We're Gonna Have to Go Through It


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#15


A couple of feet away would still be a lot too close, as would become evident soon enough to Adam. Whilst Peter chased the orbs, successfully capturing one within his jar, the thing moving in the dark paused.

A stench hit the air before Adam at this close distance; something rancid, something bovine. And as a few of the orbs drifted lazily by, he would see the creature lower its head, from which protruded two gigantic, curving horns.

The minotaur roared its displeasure at the intrusion into its domain, bringing a bulging arm up to swing at the drunkard that had staggered right up to it.
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#16
Adam
Some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels

Well, Adam had no chance of dodging the arm swinging towards him. At the close promixity and his drunken instincts considered he barely even notice the hand coming towards his face then he was on the floor, gasping and lifting a hand to his cheek. "Oh, fuck!" He exclaimed down towards the ground, then reached down for his gun, fingers fumbling on the handle.

Turning up he aimed his gun to the face of the beast and without hesitation shot a bullet aimed up through it's chin, yelling to pet:"Fucking stab it or something!"



But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean









Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#17
For a moment, this was almost nice. Peter had managed to catch one of the orbs in his jar, and it seemed like it cast just enough light to get them through the basement, for Adam’s.... god horn. Peter still wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, between how fantastic it sounded and the fact that Adam was drunk and had only said something after they’d arrived.

Peter was already half turned towards Adam when a shape from the darkness knocked him to the ground. A dagger was materializing in his hand as Adam shouted, instinct moving Peter before the words actually reached him. He wasn’t close enough to stab it, wasn’t fast enough to close the gap between the beast and himself before it had the chance to hit Adam again, so he wasn’t left with any options. At least, no good options.

After a moments pause, the knife left Peter’s hand, thrown the same instant Adams gun went off. The sound made him stumble back, fear gripping him, but he kept his eyes on the creature, the more immediate danger still fresh in his mind.

”Hey! Over here!” He didn’t think the dagger alone would be enough to get the things attention, but hopefully his taunt would do it. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d be able to sidestep any charge mwdevtiwards him.
Peter
try, try your
whole life
to be righteous
and good


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#18


Ah, the minotaur. Guardian of the labyrinth, strength and rage rolled into one. Formidable, to say the least.

Unless up against a gun.

It was Adam's drunken state, ironically, that saved him. So close was he to the creature that, at point blank range, not even he could miss. The shot fired, lighting up the basement around them for a brief and shining moment - before it promptly shattered through the back of the beast's skull.

Its rolling eyes managed, briefly, to flick to Peter, undoubtedly leaving some nightmare-fuel in its wake, before it sagged forward, tongue lolling, horns dragging its head down faster. Right on top of Adam.
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#19
Adam
Some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels

Luckily for Adam, it seemed the monsters here had not evolved to defend themselves against pistols. The bullet struck true, shooting up through the Minotaur's head and killing it. His cry of victory was cut short though as he was suddenly crushed by the smelly, wet, hairy carcass, pushing him down to the ground.

"Peether!" He yelled, his voice muffled by the minotaur nipple currently pushing down on his face. "Peether! Come helth me outta under thith fuckin' thing!" One arm escaped from the weight and wiggled about, trying to grab something to drag on and acheive his freedom.


But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean









Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#20
The dying eyes of the Minotaur froze Peter, his own eyes widening in abject terror. He was no stranger to death, or dying, but the way they’d locked on him, they way he’d called them to him. It sent shivers down his spine.

There was no way to tell how long he would have stood there had Adam not started yelling, Peter starting almost automatically at the sound of his name. Hesitantly, almost unwillingly, he approached the corpse, setting his little jar of light down on the floor so he could grab Adams arm and tug. And tug. And *tug*.

After a long moment straining himself, Peter grumbled, and started pushing against the Minotaur itself, trying to do anything to give Adam the chance to get out. Rolling it seemed easier than trying to drag Adam out from it anyway.
Peter
try, try your
whole life
to be righteous
and good
Adam Pikely
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Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#21
Adam
Some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels

Adam yelled out in pain, though he was mostly just whining, as Pet pulled at his arm. When he felt the hand drop his, he nearly panicked, wondered if he was to live under a stinky minotaur corpse for the rest of his life. But then suddenly the pressure was lifted, Adam taking large gulping breaths as his lungs filled back up, the weight gone.

"Fuuuck. Thanks." He sat up, rubbed a hand through his hair as he looked about. "So where's this fucking horn then?" Expecting to see a plinth or chest containing a mythical trumpet, he wobbily got up and took a few steps about the room. The thought that Ludo could have just tricked him into a wild goose chase did come to mind, but he didn't want to give up just yet.

Horn...horn....horn...horny...haha. No, focus. Horn...

He scanned the room. After an embarrassingly long amount of time, his eyes rested on the dead minotaur. ...Oooooh. Pulling the dagger from his hip, Adam walked over and placed the blade against the base of the creatures horns. "Hold it still. I'm gonna cut it off. It...might smell." He began to saw back and forth, pulling at the bone.




But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean









Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#22
”You’re welcome.” Peter said softly, once he had caught his breath again. ”Are you... okay? Hurt?” This is the reason he’d even bothered to tag along, if he hadn’t, Adam woupd be stuck under a corpse and no one would know. He shrugged at Adams next question, and went to collect his jar of light. How was he supposed to know where the horn was? He’d been here just as long as Adam.

He was content to sit and watch Adam try to work through the puzzle on his own. If he were crueller, it might have been funny how long it took him, but Peters silence was lore fuelled by the fact that this was Adam’s quest, not his, and he hadn’t asked for help. When he was, he moved easily, putting his foot on the creatures head and setting his weight against it. Peter watched Adam work, his head cocked. ”Why... why would it smell?”
Peter
try, try your
whole life
to be righteous
and good
Adam Pikely
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Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#23
Adam
Some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Takes more than a stinky fat bull falling on me to get Adam fucking Pikely." Adam insisted, though as he dusted off his shirt he felt more than a few immediate aches in his back, knew he'd be paying for this particular adventure for a while, especially once the drink wore off and the pain became more real.

Peter obediantly came to help him and Adam began to cut at the flesh, wrinkling his nose as blood poured from the cut at the base of the horn. The question threw him off-guard and he frowned up at Peter. "Because...I'm cutting into a big monster's skin and shit? You never cut a monster? They've usually got green blood or smoking bits or just stink."

While this minotaur appeared to have blood the normal colour and no poison or smoke, there certainly was a smell, one that did not help Adam's nausea at all as he ripped the horn from it's head with a sickening crunch, lifting it up in his hand as blood and other substances he didn't want to think about that much oozed from the wound in the creature's head.

"...So...now what?" He asked, holding the horn in his hands. It was unclear whether this was directed to Peter, his eyes fixed on the item in his fingers.


But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean









Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#24
Peter met the drunk mans gaze balefully, the look rather bold coming from him, not that Adam would necessarily recognize that. ”They just... smell like blood. This... this just smells like blood.” He could only assume that between the two of them, he had more experience with things like this. That wasn’t necessarily a fact e was proud of, but he did think made him more of an authority on things like this than Adam.

Without anymore words from either of them, Adam got the horn loose, pulling it free with a violent squelch. The sound was enough to make Peters stomach flip, and as soon as he wasn’t needed anymore he stepped away, taking a breath of air that didn’t all but taste of copper. The other man had the same idea, though a much harder time escaping the smell, given the gore his arm was now caked in.

”Didn’t the... the god tell you what... tell you what to do?” There was still a healthy dose of skepticism in Peters tone, but he did Adam the courtesy of stepping close to look at the horn, resisting the urge to pull a scarf over his nose. He had made too big a deal about the smell to do that now. The horn didn’t look special to him. Not any different from a bull horn, at least. He’d have thought something a god would want would’ve special, unique in a way this wasn’t.
Peter
try, try your
whole life
to be righteous
and good
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
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#25
Adam
Some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels

"Yah, and blood fucking smells bad, duh." As much as it was clear Peter had...some stuff going on, Adam didn't really believe he'd been so used to violence that he now liked the scent of blood. Such a thing would be so melodramatically tragic that he didn't wanna accept it.

Before he answered Pet's question, Adam held the horn in his hands for a moment, staring as if expecting it to do something, send out sparks or sing a song. But the horn stayed still and silent, just...well, a horn. Ripped from an animal. Disappointed, he sighed and got up, holding the horn by his side and pulling a face.

"No, and I'm wondering if it was just to keep me busy..." Grumpily he raised the horn up and moved his mouth from side to side, frowning at it. "You know of anything these can do?"





But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean









Peter Pikely


Age: 33 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#26
Peter cocked his head and watched Adam turn the thing over and over in his hands, making faces at it the whole time. He didn’t see how it would help, but maybe Adam would... remember something again, or come to a sudden epiphany. He did agree with the idea that it had just been to keep Adam busy, though he tried to not let that thought show on his face too much.

”I don’t uh... don’t think it... it can do anything on its own.” Peter pointed, hesitantly reaching out towards it. His fingers trembled slightly, like he expected Adam to pull the horn out of reach, or worse. ”Maybe you have to... you have to... have to make something with it? The man who ow... who I worked for, when I was, um, younger? He had a gun with the handle made from horn.” It did seem the kind of task that might be a little beyond Adam.

There was a possibility that they were thinking about this too hard though. Peters hand brushed against the bone, and he shrugged. ”Maybe it... God? Just wants a... Just wants a horn.”
Peter
try, try your
whole life
to be righteous
and good
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#27
Adam
Some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels



"Gun handle could be cool..." Adam agreed, turning the horn around in his hands, though he knew he lacked both the skill and motivation to make such a crafty gun. Not that he wanted Pet to know that though, so he nodded as if actually considering it.

As Peter's hand came up to stroke against it Adam flinched as if he was going to snatch it away, but didn't actually move. "..I guess. It did really like this little toy I had. Maybe it...just likes fun things." It was disappointing, not how he liked things to end, but it was a definite possibility. He sighed and shoved the horn into his bag, turned to Peter and clapped his hands.

"Right! Well, I'll work it out later. You wanna get outta here, adventurin' buddy?"

But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean











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