Supnautica (part 10)
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Mr Zoat
Dedicated ragequitter
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6th May 2013
23:58 GMT
So while the Fish-Eaters are busy doing reconnaissance, I've got other work do to.
The Atlanteans all want to go home. Several sounded less than enthusiastic about staying there permanently, but they all prefer returning to permanent exile. To buy a little time I dropped them off with Ted in New York, and from there they can return home once US-Atlantis relations have stabilised.
Which leaves us out of magicians.
"Um."
Next to me, Lantern Hieronymous looks down nervously on his homeworld. His skin is an unusual shade of pale blue, quite close to that of the grundymen, actually. He has fat silver hoops through each of his earlobes, a thin moustache and long brown hair which he wears combed back and hanging loose. For clothing he's picked an odd combination of Orange Lantern Corps formal robes and something an 18th century French aristocrat might wear on a formal occasion. I'm assuming that it's something rich people from his homeworld might wear, and even though it costs effectively nothing to a Lantern, he still considers it important.
"If you've got any outstanding warrants, now is the time to tell me."
"No! No. No, I never did anything important enough to get-. I mean! Of course not." He grins awkwardly and unconvincingly. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Your terrible acting. Look, Lantern Ragnar literally murdered a dozen or so people before joining up. Zartok lead a war of conquest which killed thousands at the very least. From the sounds of things you haven't done anything on that level."
"Well not objectively, no."
"'Objectively' is fairly important."
"I always wanted to do something important, it just never seemed to… Shake out. I thought being the most powerful wizard in the Orange Lantern Corps would be that thing, and then it turned out that all of those Atlanteans knew more than me. And now they're gone, and I'm back here to get some replacements."
"Did you take the opportunity to borrow the Atlanteans' manuals while they were here?"
He looks pained. "I was… Busy."
"Did you copy it onto your ring?"
"Some parts."
"Have you considered researching your species neural physiology and increasing your motivation manually?"
He blinks. "I can do that?"
"You can do anything you want. But if that's a bit much, one of my species' goddesses of intellect recently got freed from her prison and would probably be prepared to make a pact with you."
"And what does she want in return?"
"Animal livers, apparently. She might want more for a major blessing."
"But your homeworld is a long way away-. Hukh!"
I blink in surprise. He… Just got so demotivated that his environmental shield glitched. And now he's bent over in space, trying to get his breath back.
I know that magic users are rare on a galactic scale, but was this really the best we could do?
"Let's get you into the atmosphere, shall we?"
I fly downwards, careful to avoid looking too hard at anything magical-looking. We're coming here as petitioners and not as equals, after all. Ahri'ahn burning my eyes to ash is something I could take him to task on. If Queen Artemis does it, I've just got to grin and bear it.
"What can you tell me about the queen?"
"She's blonde? Mostly. Blonde and purple. I always assumed that she dyes it, but she's really good at magic so it might be an illusion or she might have altered her follicles."
"Anything pertinent?"
"She has no sense of humour. At all."
"Ah. Now, do you mean that she didn't laugh when you made a joke, or-."
"No! I mean, she wouldn't have, but when would I ever meet the Queen? She did the graduation speech at my university, but she left well before my diploma was awarded. It's just not a thing that she has."
We're through the clouds now, the strangely primitive capital city spread out below us. It looks medieval, but it's a lot cleaner and has a lot more stonework and glass than an actual medieval city would have had. We-.
Oh, that felt weird. I breached some sort of ward, and-. And by 'breached' I mean I think it failed when I passed through it. People in armour are mustering around the palace and four wyvern riders just mounted up and started flying our way.
I stop in the air and wait for them to arrive. Far more sensible than continuing an approach when they're braced for hostilities. In fact… I create a seat for myself and sit on it.
"Should I do that?"
"If you want to, yes. If you don't, no."
"But should I?"
"I fear that you have failed to understand my previous answer."
One of the wyvern-rider approaches to within shouting distance. "Ho, strangers! State your business!"
"I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. I seek an audience with Queen Artemis to negotiate the hiring of a large number of your people's wizards."
A helmet that looks like its made of steel plate turns towards Hieronymous. "And you?"
"I live here."
The helmeted head stares at him for a moment.
"Why are you blue?"
Hieronymous seems mildly offended. "That's.. a.. fairly personal question to ask someone, don't you think?"
"Do you actually need to know?"
"Do you know?"
"I assumed that's what people on this planet look like."
He reaches up and pulls off his helmet… And he's got skin that's basically the same colour as mine. Honestly, if I didn't know this wasn't Earth I'd mistake him for human.
"We don't. I just want to make sure that he's not a lich before I take you to the palace."
"Since I'm not a magician myself I can't really check, but as far as I can tell all his organs are working as if he were alive."
"Alright then." He gives Hieronymous a suspicious look, and Hieronymous tries to avoid looking like a reanimated corpse. "Please follow me down, and someone will inform the queen that you're here."
23:58 GMT
So while the Fish-Eaters are busy doing reconnaissance, I've got other work do to.
The Atlanteans all want to go home. Several sounded less than enthusiastic about staying there permanently, but they all prefer returning to permanent exile. To buy a little time I dropped them off with Ted in New York, and from there they can return home once US-Atlantis relations have stabilised.
Which leaves us out of magicians.
"Um."
Next to me, Lantern Hieronymous looks down nervously on his homeworld. His skin is an unusual shade of pale blue, quite close to that of the grundymen, actually. He has fat silver hoops through each of his earlobes, a thin moustache and long brown hair which he wears combed back and hanging loose. For clothing he's picked an odd combination of Orange Lantern Corps formal robes and something an 18th century French aristocrat might wear on a formal occasion. I'm assuming that it's something rich people from his homeworld might wear, and even though it costs effectively nothing to a Lantern, he still considers it important.
"If you've got any outstanding warrants, now is the time to tell me."
"No! No. No, I never did anything important enough to get-. I mean! Of course not." He grins awkwardly and unconvincingly. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Your terrible acting. Look, Lantern Ragnar literally murdered a dozen or so people before joining up. Zartok lead a war of conquest which killed thousands at the very least. From the sounds of things you haven't done anything on that level."
"Well not objectively, no."
"'Objectively' is fairly important."
"I always wanted to do something important, it just never seemed to… Shake out. I thought being the most powerful wizard in the Orange Lantern Corps would be that thing, and then it turned out that all of those Atlanteans knew more than me. And now they're gone, and I'm back here to get some replacements."
"Did you take the opportunity to borrow the Atlanteans' manuals while they were here?"
He looks pained. "I was… Busy."
"Did you copy it onto your ring?"
"Some parts."
"Have you considered researching your species neural physiology and increasing your motivation manually?"
He blinks. "I can do that?"
"You can do anything you want. But if that's a bit much, one of my species' goddesses of intellect recently got freed from her prison and would probably be prepared to make a pact with you."
"And what does she want in return?"
"Animal livers, apparently. She might want more for a major blessing."
"But your homeworld is a long way away-. Hukh!"
I blink in surprise. He… Just got so demotivated that his environmental shield glitched. And now he's bent over in space, trying to get his breath back.
I know that magic users are rare on a galactic scale, but was this really the best we could do?
"Let's get you into the atmosphere, shall we?"
I fly downwards, careful to avoid looking too hard at anything magical-looking. We're coming here as petitioners and not as equals, after all. Ahri'ahn burning my eyes to ash is something I could take him to task on. If Queen Artemis does it, I've just got to grin and bear it.
"What can you tell me about the queen?"
"She's blonde? Mostly. Blonde and purple. I always assumed that she dyes it, but she's really good at magic so it might be an illusion or she might have altered her follicles."
"Anything pertinent?"
"She has no sense of humour. At all."
"Ah. Now, do you mean that she didn't laugh when you made a joke, or-."
"No! I mean, she wouldn't have, but when would I ever meet the Queen? She did the graduation speech at my university, but she left well before my diploma was awarded. It's just not a thing that she has."
We're through the clouds now, the strangely primitive capital city spread out below us. It looks medieval, but it's a lot cleaner and has a lot more stonework and glass than an actual medieval city would have had. We-.
Oh, that felt weird. I breached some sort of ward, and-. And by 'breached' I mean I think it failed when I passed through it. People in armour are mustering around the palace and four wyvern riders just mounted up and started flying our way.
I stop in the air and wait for them to arrive. Far more sensible than continuing an approach when they're braced for hostilities. In fact… I create a seat for myself and sit on it.
"Should I do that?"
"If you want to, yes. If you don't, no."
"But should I?"
"I fear that you have failed to understand my previous answer."
One of the wyvern-rider approaches to within shouting distance. "Ho, strangers! State your business!"
"I am the Illustres of the Orange Lantern Corps. I seek an audience with Queen Artemis to negotiate the hiring of a large number of your people's wizards."
A helmet that looks like its made of steel plate turns towards Hieronymous. "And you?"
"I live here."
The helmeted head stares at him for a moment.
"Why are you blue?"
Hieronymous seems mildly offended. "That's.. a.. fairly personal question to ask someone, don't you think?"
"Do you actually need to know?"
"Do you know?"
"I assumed that's what people on this planet look like."
He reaches up and pulls off his helmet… And he's got skin that's basically the same colour as mine. Honestly, if I didn't know this wasn't Earth I'd mistake him for human.
"We don't. I just want to make sure that he's not a lich before I take you to the palace."
"Since I'm not a magician myself I can't really check, but as far as I can tell all his organs are working as if he were alive."
"Alright then." He gives Hieronymous a suspicious look, and Hieronymous tries to avoid looking like a reanimated corpse. "Please follow me down, and someone will inform the queen that you're here."
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He seems the sort to bring down the whole tone of her cult.
...Did he just get so 
I could see a standing detection spell not being able to cope with his concealment tattoos...
