WESSEX
Now this is where Wessex can’t help but radiate smugness as devious little twist slinks across her face. “Isla ripped out something. but it wasn’t the upgrade they wanted.” She leaves that tidbit of information dangling like some low-hanging fruit in front of the Flood, because slowly winding her way through the Great Trick. “See, some upgrades can be more harmlessly removed than others. My talons? Not so much, they’re part of my arms, activated by muscles. But things like the backsplash and my communication chip - those are easily removable.”
Shrugging gleefully, the Wraith continues on. “And the Old God demis have enough disdain for us that they don’t care to learn how we work. So I gave them an upgrade, yes. A useless one, from back when the Spire Demon existed. And because I had taken out the backsplash upgrade before we went, they were able to hit me and not have it affect them.” She lets that all sink in for a minute, giving the meat a little poke with a finger. Seems done and sufficiently cooled. Wessex launches herself off the counter and begins to open random cabinets and drawers, looking for something to wrap it in.
“It’s with Isla now, in case I die. Can’t risk losing that particular boon. Uhhh… I also gave her a staff I took off a dead Fae, looks like it was made from some Greatwood stuff, could be useful. She also had a raggedy looking shawl that seems to keep you warm no matter what. Oddly spooky looking… I don’t need it, obviously. You want it?” Aha! Triumphantly holding a bit of parchment paper aloft, she slams the drawer shut and heads back to the meat to finish their task.
Shrugging gleefully, the Wraith continues on. “And the Old God demis have enough disdain for us that they don’t care to learn how we work. So I gave them an upgrade, yes. A useless one, from back when the Spire Demon existed. And because I had taken out the backsplash upgrade before we went, they were able to hit me and not have it affect them.” She lets that all sink in for a minute, giving the meat a little poke with a finger. Seems done and sufficiently cooled. Wessex launches herself off the counter and begins to open random cabinets and drawers, looking for something to wrap it in.
“It’s with Isla now, in case I die. Can’t risk losing that particular boon. Uhhh… I also gave her a staff I took off a dead Fae, looks like it was made from some Greatwood stuff, could be useful. She also had a raggedy looking shawl that seems to keep you warm no matter what. Oddly spooky looking… I don’t need it, obviously. You want it?” Aha! Triumphantly holding a bit of parchment paper aloft, she slams the drawer shut and heads back to the meat to finish their task.
there was a time that we were kind, but now
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
don't write me, you're not fooling anyone
