aefenglom | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Name: Entrapta
Date: Septeril 11th
Format: Text

HELLO ENTRAPTA HERE I AM LOOKING FOR HELP FROM ANYONE IN DORCHACHT WILLING TO ASSIST WITH COLLECTION OF SPARE PARTS FROM RADIOS LAWNMOWERS SEWING MACHINES ETC ETC ANY MACHINERY OR SCRAP METAL THANKS!!!! I WOULD JUST DO IT MYSELF BUT I AM SUPER BUSY. I CAN PROVIDE COMPENSATION IN THE FORM OF USEFUL DEVICES FOR AVOIDING DETECTION WHILE WE ARE HERE

I AM NOT BUILDING ANY BOMBS THIS TIME!!!!

I AM IN HIDING BUT I WILL SEND YOU THE ADDRESS + INSTRUCTIONS TO AVOID THE TRAPS!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

WHERE

[ ARE YOU doesn't get sent, shoddy Dorcharct reception. ]

PLEASE STAND BY FOR PRIVATE COMMUNICATION
I BELIEVE THIS NETWORK IS MOSTLY SECURE AS I HAVE YET TO SEE ANY EVIDENCE OF SIMILAR TECHNOLOGY USED IN THIS CITY HOWEVER IT'S NOT IMPOSSIBLE THEY COULD FIND SOME WAY TO INTERCEPT THESE MESSAGES AND PUBLIC EXCHANGES WOULD BE EASIER TO MONITOR

[ A minute later she privately messages him an address, along with a list of detailed instructions for avoiding several booby traps that apparently litter the place's yard and porch. ]

OK

[ And so ... either this is a summary tag of Entrapta being left a pillow case full of odds and ends leftover from Geralt's magpie investigation grinding, or an action one of him stuck in some crazy laser-grid evasion Twister pose, attempting to carefully put down the pillow case on the step. ]

[ Let's be real, when it comes to complex arrangements of magical laser sights, spider-web tripwires and weight sensitive floor panels, those instructions were probably just going to be a Bake Off technical challenge style 'avoid setting them off'.

Entrapta shows up perhaps surprisingly quickly, descending from somewhere higher up on the building on a cord of silk, just sort of upside down like she's Spider-Man. This is fine. ]

Oh, hi!! Are you the person from the network with the super short responses?

[ Damn you, Paul Hollywood. Bread week is over!!

Geralt turns his head, awkwardly, still in this very questionable position, looking at the young woman descending like an erotic aerial performer with all her clothes on-- no, like a spider, definitely a spider. We all have different life experiences. ]

Yeah. I think.

[ Is it safe to move? He doesn't move. ]

[ Entrapta is pretty unerotic, to her credit. Or her discredit, depending on how you feel about erotic aerial performers. ]

Great! Let me just deactivate this...

[ She swings over to perch on a very specific area of the dilapidated wooden porch railing, where she reaches down and messes with what looks like some more arachne-silk. Something closer to Geralt clanks disarmingly, and Entrapta hops down off the railing and clasps two of her four hands together, pleased. ]

Okay! You can move now. I mean, you would've been able to move before, if you wanted, obviously, you just probably would have wound up getting launched across the yard, hahahaha! D'you wanna come inside?

[ Yeah, if he wanted. Finally free, Geralt stumbles forward and manages not to eat shit only because of long-practiced balance. He still looks like a loser, though, skidding to a halt with one hand out as if to preempt a faceplant.

Hurf. Ok. He straightens up and gives her a look. ]

Alright.

[ What is even going on, anyway. ]

Awesome, just a second!

[ Entrapta absconds upwards. A minute or so later there's some noise from inside the house, as though of someone disabling more traps. Then she opens the door and gestures Geralt inside. ]

Hi! So what'd you bring?

[ Heckin wild.

Geralt holds up the bag while stepping inside as directed. ]

I don't know. [ He shrugs. ] We don't have machines with parts this small, where I'm from.

[ There's some total junk in there, but some proverbial gems, too, as far as intact parts. Things he's used as markers to track scents or individuals, their purpose served, no longer needed. ]

Oooh, great!

[ Entrapta takes the pillowcase and eagerly peers inside; for all the apparent caution implied by the booby traps, she sure as hell doesn't seem concerned about just sticking her face into a bag of junk a stranger gave her.

She talks while plucking various items from the bag and examining them keenly, a little distracted by this bounty but nonetheless asking out of genuine interest: ] So what kind of machines do you have where you're from...?

[ This is clearly her thing, so .. knock yourself out, lady. Geralt doesn't mind intense personalities; it makes things easier for his weird, mutant brain and its dulled emotions to understand. ]

Sometimes a sovereign or a rich sorceress will have a clock, [ he says. ] I hear the palace in the last elven city has running water, but I've never been there. And it's probably magic, as most things that move independently are.

Oooohh, interesting.

[ She's starting to sort the objects from the pillowcase into different pockets, an involved process that involves all four of her hands. ]

So you do have magic, though? What kind of, ah, practical applications does that have?

[ Man, the Lionhdead Spider Cult people would lose their minds over her. Not a thing in here smells like death or cannibalism. (Don't google it the monotheistic religions in The Witcher are BAD) ]

Depends on what you mean by practical. Some people would say in war. Some people would say in jewelry forging and age revision.

[ TOO LATE I DID, don't worry geralt entrapta's never hurt anyone...directly ]

[ She raises her eyebrows, stopping what she's doing – or at least slowing down a bit – to look up at him, now. ]

Oh, huh! I guess I meant just, ah, anything it's used for, but it sounds like people use it for a lot!

Those who can, [ he agrees, and opts not to go into at-home politics. Magic is the most advanced art and science on the Continent, and responsible for every major progressive move - if not directly, then because someone in power had the best team of mages churning out information. And yet witch hunts still happen, magic still ends up outlawed, and all sorts of dumb shit. Because people are people, he figures. ]

Not so, where you're from?

Mmm, not really! There are a bunch of different kinds of magic where I'm from but most of the really serious stuff is kiiind of restricted to Princesses and people who're willing to get a little weird. It sounds like magic in your world is more how it is in this one...?

It's not quite so widespread, it's more like - [ he shrugs. ] Those with the power have their fingers in a lot of pies.

[ And various foundations that were built using magic are so strong that they've held up through generations of clumsy, average humans with no maintenance. Always present, even without actually being technically present. How does one explain that? With words?? What does Geralt look like, someone formally educated? ]

What are you making?

[ She thinks she gets that, but while she's interested enough that she'd ask more questions – well, then he asks about what she's making. Her face lights up even more. ]

Oh! Ah, a few different things! I'm working on improving a bunch of the Resistance's tech, like their radio equipment, cloaking devices, dispel bombs...

[ Likewise, Geralt thinks he understands all of those things. If only from recently-learned context. ]

Good.

[ Go team Resistance. (Or, later in the month, go team literally demolish this stupid hellcity, whatever.) ]

Even though I think I remember you assuring everyone you weren't making bombs. Dispel sounds familiar. I make plenty, at home.

Oh, hahahaha! No, I meant bombs for, you know, causing large scale destruction! That's the kind I'm not doing. These ones are exclusively for dispersing an enchantment to cancel out a specific magic – I suppose the mechanism could be repurposed to cause harm if it was paired with the correct enchantment, but the device itself isn't destructive!

[ She beams. ]

What kind of dispel stuff do you make? Is it something similar?

Ah.

[ Geralt's somewhat amused, but it's hard to tell. ]

Mm, sort of. There's a substance called 'dimeritium' where I'm from, and it can block magic. I haven't seen anything quite like it here.

Demeritium... [ At some point she seems to have produced a notebook from about her person, because she's writing that down in it with her two free hands. ] Interesting – I've never heard of anything like that! What kind of composition does it have? Is it naturally-occurring?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only