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Slouching Toward Yathrib

Clever monkeys, stupid monkeys

listen to the angry psychic near-human with a knife. the angry-knife-soph knows

Damn monkeys.

Corpses and slaughter don’t scare me. I waited in that pile of bodies on New Yangtze station for three days for my chance, and once they were sure they’d secured the place, there was plenty of slaughter in the night. Chintzy metal, but a job well-done is satisfying in its own way.

Stupid monkeys. Stupid monkeys scare me.

They wanted to investigate the distress signal. An old distress signal, asking after food. Food. On its face, it was bait. Should have seen it sooner, but once we saw the bodies it was a bit obvious. No chewing, no real signs of fighting over what was left.

It got worse. It wasn’t a disease.

The fountain was a trip. These humans, meddling with things they don’t understand. You don’t come to my gods with a stack of monkey heads without knowing what you’re doing. Scream into the night long enough, and something may answer… best to not attract a lion in the jungle though. Mortos’ Get… it still gives me the shakes.

They seemed to handle a touch of the old black medicine a bit worse than me. Blessed superior Ukari brain structure. Thank you Rilos.

They were calling out for answers. Maybe a splinter cult, not in on the real deal, maybe they found their answer and we saw the results of amateur-hour thaumaturgy in the auditorium.

When I started to hear what was up in my head, it started to click.

This one is under my protection. Still Angry.

I tried to tell them without cutting myself off at the knees (“I’m hearing things”, “I can read the ‘evil writings’ and we should back off”. Good way to get shot by Sir Tightass.)

The door slammed. Figures. A good trap always shuts before the rabbits bolt.

We went looking for the control center.

Ugly bit of business with the electronic-trigger mine. Good on them for building it into the floor, I was only expecting after-market, like claymores. Dame Fitz-Malak did a good job. Need to encourage her a bit… she may want to talk to some friends-of-friends…

Ran into a golem. I was pretty sure it was a hologram, or a droid. Figures… f-ing droid Colonel.

If we’d stood there talking to it, we’d have been there all day, and it might have wised up and called for help or triggered something nasty. I’m not unhappy with how it turned out. Bastard.

Once the monkey-priest had fisted the golem, we pulled some answers and intelligence. Easier with monkeys… real teeth, real nerves…

Scratched a quick prayer onto my hand. Strength from Glanglun-Untya, Sukara to put right what the monkeys put wrong, and Sapa because… if it isn’t our destiny to survive, it doesn’t really matter anyway.

Screw debate. Temper the boss’ rage, leave them hanging, let the monkey-priests get all scared, and speedily commune with Amdwontha. Try to smash up whatever ritual circle is going on, open an airlock if it looks like something blasphemous-and-organic is growing. Knock in the ceiling, that kind of thing.

Fortunately, Plan A went pretty well, and the boss didn’t charge the evil hungry thing. Got a new jumpkey… more crazy-fun next time.

I need some better kit, if I’m going to keep doing this.

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lucasthegray bdewhirst

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