Waaaaiiit a minute. Something is up, and I know it? I’m gonna slapdash-edly jump to conclusions about that. I punch the questgiver with my robot arm and yell “What’s this REALLY about, sentient kazoo golem? You KNOW we’ll find the documents!”
inky's radical attempt at preventing assault fails, unfortunately, as her Radicality alone cannot overcome loyaldog's potent Ferocity attribute. loyaldog punches the cloaked questgiver in the face, and Kyo throws a set of brass knuckles at her, surely as a gift of goodwill for the formation of a new party.
"GO TO THE DESIGNATED AREA SO I CAN BLOW YOU OFF," one Kyo shouts as the questgiver falls to the ground, then runs out of the bar, the other Kyo following close behind. During the commotion, amithea slips away to canvas for loosely-secured cartographic canvas, though she ultimately has to settle for parchment.
Only inky and loyaldog are left to witness the head of bright, colorful pink and light blur hair revealed as the hood fell. Truly, this is no child. Nor a kazoo, or any entity composed thereof. This is, quite simply, a troll. Or perhaps a gnome. A gnoll? Regardless, the two remaining party members are witnessing something incredible.
Dom! is not witnessing something incredible. He is standing off to the side, staring into space, visions of aggressive boots crawling in the edges of his vision.
Meanwhile, in an alleyway, Kyo makes a purchase, unknowingly violating civil rights and ethics laws. A ping appears on a local constable's Delinquometer.
Kyo, Delinquent Vagabond, at the Alleyway of Trade Affairs
While Kyo is admiring his cool new cloak, it suddenly flies out of his hands and out of the alleyway. He stares dejectedly out at it for awhile and, empowered by strange knowledge that he has committed a criminal act, and by the disappointment he feels at the loss of his beloved new article of clothing, he creates a new stat for his statblock, assigning himself a starting value of 1000 points for the crime he's somehow sure he's committed.
CRIMINALITY SCORE: 0000001000
If he gets ten million, he thinks, he might level up. Time to get cracking. What was that place the kazoo kid mentioned? Tootie's Alry? He wonders what an Alry is. Maybe he'll find out when he robs the place.
Enough of this, matt decides. The life of a cloak is not the life for them. It was appealing, for a short while. Decadent, even. Being worn on grand adventures, going places, being tattered and weathered by the sands of time, and above all, making people look more mysterious. But no, it's not right. matt doesn't want to make people look mysterious. matt wants to look mysterious.
"Taxi!" they shout at a guy in a yellow bowler, the band patterned with a black and white checkerboard. "Taxi!" matt shouts again.
"How did you know my name?" says the guy, approaching. "Are you an oracle?"
"Or a cull."
"Take me to the most exciting place in town," says matt, remembering to add the dialogue source tag at the end so the reader can find their place again if the previous exchange had them lost, "and step on it."
"Step on what?"
"My bicycle isn't a tandem bicycle," says Taxi, looking over at his yellow bicycle, which has been here the whole time, "so I don't know what I can do for yo— huh?" Looking back, he sees that matt is gone. But little does he know, matt is not gone, and little does he know, he is now wearing two hats. Much does he know, however, he is quite spooked. Perhaps the strange one who knew his name was some sort of ghost from a long forgotten past. That would certainly explain things.
He gets on his bicycle and starts pedaling to Smalltown Madeline Medium's Medium-to-Large Medium Services, splitting the party even further.
Dom! the Lost Mixologist, in the Intro Sequence Bar
While amithea is staring intently at a piece of parchment, and inky seems to be pondering the nuances and tenets of being totally radical, the patrons of the bar get a little antsy, and panicked murmuring breaks out. It breaks out because the boots at the edges of Dom!'s eyes, transparent and ephemeral, converge into one boot, while at the same time, the boot in the realm of Dom!'s mind converges with whatever other nonexistent entities it may have on the other side of reality.
Patrons shout and get louder, and move to get out of the way. The boot floats into the air, then charges forward at Dom!, striking him square with a steel-toe boot in his flesh-gut gut. Sent flying by the impact (-64% VIM, -48% VIGOR, ) of the blow, Dom! flies through the bar, almost hitting amithea before she quickly ducks the projectile. Smashing through the back wall, (-36% VIM, -36% VIGOR) flies off into an endless, dark void that seems to have displaced the outdoor space, being sealed outside of it as the wooden planks and pieces reconstruct themselves into the wall.
Dom! has been booted to Nowhere.
inky the Pondering Daredevil, in the Intro Sequence Bar
The boot turns to inky, and the sole opens. An incredible transformation occurs, with whirring parts and pieces slipping into place, until a rigging set with wheels appears below the boot. The boot has become a rollerskate. It begins to roll menacingly towards inky, its neat, leather surface becoming a radical red.
amithea the Xenocartogrinterpreting Magician, in the Intro Sequence Bar
amithea stares intently at the parchment's faded map, tuning out the noise. It's probably just some rowdy drunk, anyway. Let's see. Where can she go from here, she wonders? Tipsville is probably that dilapidated looking city on the map. Especially because it seems to be marked, "Tipsville". What a detailed illustration! Though she's not sure Tipsville is quite that big. Surely, the rivers must be a little wider comparatively.
She drops the map. "Whoops!" she says, bending down to pick it up as some sort of projectile flies over her. Straightening up, she holds the map up to one of the Fantasy-approved magical fluorescent lights lighting the bar, hoping to see the lines better with the light illuminated through it.
loyaldog the Adjective Technosynthesist, in the Intro Sequence Bar
CRIMINALITY SCORE: 0000000100
"Okay, so... why the Al’s Tootery thing?" asks loyaldog, ignoring the commotion in the background, like cool heroes do when they're talking to shady folk in corners.
"Owwww. Why... why would you do that!? I'm not... I'm not tellin' you nothing," says the gnoll with the cotton candy hair.
"I just wanted to punch children."
"I'm not a child, gnolls just have high voices!" he shouts, holding his nose, "What's wrong with you?"
"Well now I have to go find two children to punch. Now answer my question."
"I ain't tellin' you nothin'."
"I'll punch you again."
The gnoll starts saying strange babble. Baby babble, it sounds like. loyaldog starts wanting to punch a baby a little.
"... What are you doing? I'll punch you."
"GNOLL MAGIC, BITCH."
"THAT IS INAPPROPRIATE LANGUAGE!" loyaldog shouts with indignant fury, raising her cool robot fist to punch this adequate approximation of a baby, but she finds herself punched instead, a spectral fist emerging from the wall above the gnoll and striking her in the face. (-22% VIM, -31% VIGOR)
You have angered the questgiver.
Kyo and the lowercase crew
WEAM SPIRIT: ???%
SPLITTEDNESS: As a particularly pedantic hair
I calculate the amount of damage my robo-punches can do and my rate of robo-punches per second to figure out the amount of time it would take for me to kill this gnoll. I then determine how much time it would take for him to kill me.
If I'd kill him first, I beat him to a bloody pulp while yelling "Considering my username and gender, that's kind of an accurate term, but I STILL DON'T LIKE IT!"
If he'd kill me first, or if we'd both die at the same time, I run out of the bar and join Kyo in his delinquency while yelling the same thing.