“If we’re assigning blame then this is your fault for leaving me alone with explosives in the first place.”
Response:
"I don't like this."
"It'll take five minutes."
"Then I really don't like this," Sylvia insists again.
"Agree," Randy adds, jumping out of the rear of the convertible. "Lots c’n ‘appen in five minutes. This is Sylli we're talkin' about." He pauses, considering this as he pulls his hair, the color of red earth clay, into a loose ponytail. "I take i' back, this'll be great!"
"Not helping, Randy." Marni snaps. She reaches across Sylvia and pulls the passenger door handle, pushing the smaller girl's door open. "Sylvia, it should already be packed up and ready to go. Just tell them you're picking up the order under my name."
Sylvia ignores the open door, still studying her fingers. "Wouldn't Randy be better? I can run into the grocery store and get whatever it is we need," she pleads.
"'Cause Randy's also pickin' up booze and you wen' an' left your I.D. a' home, Firefly." Randy answers for himself, ignoring Sylvia's wince at the name. Marni shoots him a glare which he ignores, shoving his hand in front of her. "C'mon Mar. Gimme tha' list." She fights the urge to bite the hand as he waves it in front of her eyes and instead slams the yellow post it onto his chest. He grins, stuffs it into his back pocket, and takes off across the parking lot at a run -- all long legs and hair already escaping it's tie.
"Sylvia, you won't have to actually touch a thing. And you have to learn to manage this eventually." Sylvia is still looking at her orange-tipped fingers. Marni sighs. "Would you rather go put gas in the car?" she demands. With a huff, Sylvia gets out of the car.
Marni is screwing the gas lid back on, observing the reflection of sunlight on sea-blue fingertips, when the sky lights up in colors, followed by the unmistakable sound of fireworks.
She feels the tickle at her right ear of a speaking spell. “If we’re assigning blame then this is your fault for leaving me alone with explosives in the first place,” Sylvia’s voice hisses, “and you can explain to James why you sent me to get fireworks instead of groceries.”
At her left ear, Marni feels another tickle. “Canta even been five minutes!” Randy manages to cough out through his peals of laughter.
Personally, Marni thinks, if the newly entrusted firemage managed to set off the fireworks in that short a time, she doesn’t know if letting the girl near the alcohol section of the grocery store would have been any safer. At least this way Sylvia was already outside when her magic reacted.
These things are stupid and useless!
When the MAGIC 8 BALL isn't being frustratingly ambiguous, its forecast is always wrong! You have tested it numerous times with certain facts you know to be true. This is its reply when you ask if it is your friend John's birthday today. See? Stupid!
You guess maybe it could be used as a reverse-prediction device, and always trust the opposite of what it says. But that seems dumb to you. And anyway, the thing gives you a bad vibe. You might consider smashing it, but you are a little superstitious about whatever ominous consequences that might have, even if the occult talisman in question is a cheap piece of garbage.
I mean, its not WRONG. Im pretty sure Hussie didn’t make act 1 and 2 in one day. The guy was quick back then, but not THAT quick.
The MAGIC CUE BALL on the other hand is said to make predictions with alarming precision and specificity. Unfortunately it lacks a portal on its surface that allows you to view the prediction.
You put both of these pieces of junk back in the box.
Just give me the Seer of Light Au already.
Can we point out that Jade has part of Doc Scratch right there. Like theres never not been a cue ball that wasn’t a void in the old guys omniscience.
I wish the old coot returned in some way. It would have been interesting.
Before you go out to feed BEC, you will need to prepare a meal for him.
You clear some space on your work table so you can set up your REFRIGERATOR and COOKALIZER.
Just for fun, Jade allows you to take a stab at matching the cards to use the gizmos. It doesn't present much of a challenge for her, so she figures she might as well step aside, while providing a few generous hints.
No, no... warmer. Warmer. Cooler. Cooler.
COLD.
Warmer...
Yes. NO. Cold. ICE COLD.
Warmer. Warmer...
I dont know about you guys, but the little jade at the bottom is really adorable.
Congratulations, you advance your matching skill to the new level: YUKON HERO: LEGACY OF THE FROSTBITE AMPUTEE.
Jade is beginning to regret breaking the fourth wall for this ill advised escapade.
And Jade’s Sass has also reached the next level: Proclaimed Sassassin: Infamy of the lackadaisical comedian.
“Fuck this shit. Im out!”
If it were known in advance how terrible you were going to be at this matching game, the author may have given second thought to preparing this cool interactive Flash application.
Look at all these fruits on the loose. Good luck trying to settle them down.
This reminds me of a special moment in Act 6:
Like Father like Daughter like Mother like son.
Add this to the “things you didn’t realize were self referential” list.
You take a look at the REFRIGERATOR'S rotary interface. You wonder what he is in the mood for today?
I would find it interesting if all the stuff Mr. Harley designed was a cross between Advanced and old Fashion in functionality. An advanced mirospace refrigerator that operates with a rotary dial for example.
Ok, well it's a rotary dial so there are no buttons to press, but whatever that doesn't really matter.
You dial up a thick T-BONE STEAK, which you are sure Becquerel is in the mood for because he is in the mood for steak every day and is never in the mood for anything else.
But he does like his steak well cooked.
Mickey: Oh boy.
I find it unsettling how ill proportioned this dial is. Also the fact that the green expands out to half of “cook” fuels the same response.
He does prefer his steak rare after all.
Ha
You wouldn't exactly call it an atomic bass, but it is heavily customized to accommodate a high level of musical virtuosity, the perfect instrument for the eclectically spirited.
You've tuned the strings way down of course because your stumpy arms can't reach the low notes.
Now this makes me want older Jade to make some electronic jams. Imagine Jade exploiting her semi-sprite/dreamself existence by summoning some extra arms and absolutely SHREDDING. I WANT THIS NOW.
You switch your ECLECTIC BASS to its advanced setting.
But you promptly switch it back, since obviously it's too complicated to play it in person like this. The default setting is your preferred mode for casual jamming.
And since you can't possibly waste enough time playing music, casually jam is exactly what you're gonna do.
This is what im TALKING ABOUT. She needs at minimum 6 arms.
[S] Jade: Play a hauntingly relaxing bassline.
I kinda wish the haunting music motif came back at some point. Would be a cool throwback. OH WELL, I CAN DREAM.
You like to make yourself comfy in your plushy pile before getting down to business with your computer.
Abso-fucking-lutely Adorable.
You greet John but he does not respond. He is undoubtedly gallivanting around his house in a state of barely restrained birthday mirth. He may also be retrieving the two packages and the two envelopes which you are certain came in the mail for him earlier.
You will wait a little while and see if he returns before you head out.
Another eh thing about later in the comic is that it goes pretty...straight forward with its timeline. No dumb “initiating the conversation that happened 2 acts ago” stuff. Act 6 needed more of that.
