Webber (
two_souls_wedged_inside) wrote2023-06-25 07:24 pm
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Entry tags:
PSL for
freedomsuitsme
The sun dips below the Constant's horizon, the cracked moon not yet visible in the orange sky. Webber approaches the garden, stopping to marvel at a shiny purple onion bigger than their spidery head. Bigger than the icebox! Bigger than Glommer! They poke it, then sniffle involuntarily and dab at their eyes as a puff of onion gas escapes.
"It's making all our eyes tear up... Oh, Mr. Maxwell! We have something important to tell you!" They wave their more human-sized arms at the tall, thin man currently digging Spiny Bindweed vines out from between the vegetable crops with a shovel. "WX asked if it was okay to invite Mr. Eyeball over tonight and Ms. Wicker said they could do it so we need to make sure everyone's ready!"
This is definitely not the way WX-78 phrased their request; Webber's paraphrasing.
"It's making all our eyes tear up... Oh, Mr. Maxwell! We have something important to tell you!" They wave their more human-sized arms at the tall, thin man currently digging Spiny Bindweed vines out from between the vegetable crops with a shovel. "WX asked if it was okay to invite Mr. Eyeball over tonight and Ms. Wicker said they could do it so we need to make sure everyone's ready!"
This is definitely not the way WX-78 phrased their request; Webber's paraphrasing.
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It does, however, have a similar penchant for summoning little minions. Here come four more fruit flies to throw him off his rhythm! At least Webber has the garden handled, digging up fresh weeds and speaking soothingly to the plants.
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Yes, perhaps it's not the most efficient use of Nightmare Fuel, but if it insists on playing a game of numbers, so be it!
He steps back and opens his Codex Umbra, waving a hand over its pages. Slowly, silhouettes rise from the ground, taking the form of swordsmen. Maxwell smirks, closing the book and dodging back with his own sword, right before the largest fly can dart in for another sting.
"Do your worst, pest!"
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Webber steps over a big hunk of Leafy Meat and picks up a fistful of seeds and a rounded pink fruit that fell from the fruit fly's husk. They sniff it, and stick their tongue out as if planning to lick it before visibly changing their mind and backing off. "Smells kinda like a big raspberry, but it doesn't look like one."
One of the fruit flies seems to have been spared by the shadows; it's green with a red belly and it's more concerned with squeaking lovingly at the plants than attacking either of the survivors.
There's barely any light left in the sky, although it's not quite nightfall yet. The Constant's moon is beginning to peek over the hills in the distance.
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"How are you holding up? We should head to the center of camp as soon as we're ready."
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It's getting darker. Wasn't there something he was supposed to do? Right, watering the plants! He takes the watering can out and gives them a sprinkle. As he does, a prismatic beam of light erupts from the camp, shooting off into the sky above.
You feel an evil presence watching you...
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"That insufferable automaton, they couldn't even be bothered to wait- come on, child! We'll fix you a snack once we've stopped this from spiraling out of control.
He bolts for the center of camp.
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The Eye of Terror turns its gaze toward Walani
The surfer looks up languidly at the enormous eyeball. "Stop lookin' at me like that, eyeball-dude."
It responds with a guttural bellow. Wilson, Willow, and WX-78 come running from their positions by the Terrarium, already equipped for battle.