22nd March 2071
[no time stamp]
Sooooo, I got a few hours off and I’m high as a kite.
I had a long, very enlightening talk with Glitzy, of whom I haven’t told you by the way, and learned to ward shit on the fly. Had an idea how it works…kinda sorta.
Pro: we have a barrier now, so good luck finding us, runner-mage-asshole.
Con: 400 bucks gone for deepweed.
There’s another friendly ghoul named John here, as well as 25 merry scout girls along with us.
‘Here’ is an old place of Rook and mine, where we used to crash if things needed some cooldown. Former chemical industry building, think it was for herbicides and fertilizer…Heh, furrrrtalizer…
Ecos blew the place up, contaminating the earth for decades.
Great job, morons. Gaia will give you a huuuuge thumbs up for that.
For now, we’re safe and sound, though.
Time for a nap, I guess.
(roughly 6 hours of calm breathing and ambient noise)
‘Fog, wake up!’
Shwa? s’there trouble?
Ow! I’m already awake, dumbass!
[no time stamp]
That deepweed hangover is still riding me like a cheap whore, but I’ll get around.
Still pumped with adrenaline.
Well, what happened?
First, that mage almost found us. His or her spirit was already feeling up the area with some search power.
Turned out, though, there are some earth spirits living here.
Cute little buggers. My partner usually handles spirit matters, so I was a bit in open water here.
Worked out fine, anyway.
There was a large-ass toxic that bothered our new..friends. Way past redemption and hungry for some stolen fate that thing was out for trouble.
Toxic spirits are tough stuff. I rarely back off, but since I have to fight beings of poisonous sludge with my bare hands…you get my gist.
This one was smart, too. Not one of the hatefully rampaging toxics, nope. Ytong, as the little ones called him, had retained that earthy stoicism and patience.
And he had a healthy respect for John, who was nice enough to join the fray after Zach called him.
One of the little spirits I personally sponsored some growth – shit, that felt weird – took care that Ytong didn’t just bail out on us by melting with the ground.
I…well, I soaked what that ugly sludge ball dished out and let John do the heavy lifting.
You never guess who stole our kill, though:
No kidding. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was still high, but this is what happened.
She turned into a friggin feathered serpent-dragon-thingy and burned Ytong to a crisp.
Drake or not, killstealing is just bad etiquette.
But yeah…good to be rid of the toxic, anyway.
After this was out of the way, I patched up John, who took quite a beating for us.
Healing those people always has a touch of Russian Roulette, but I could calm him down and get his cracked ribs and messed up leg fixed again.
We also chipped in some more good fortune for our new spirit allies, so they could conceal our rusted bus some more.
And – literally – thank all spirits, it worked.
We friggin got out of this alive.
Still need to figure out the implications of hanging out with a drake…but that’s something for later, I guess.