#anonymousadvisor

[collectivestuck-blog]

59

THIS IS SUCH A TERRIBLE IDEA

You’re currently running for your life because you followed the advice of a guy who you’ve never met who seems really creepy and untrustworthy but you don’t exactly have any other choice and she’s right behind you and you’re not sure if this counts as a heroic death but you really don’t want to find out and there’s the exit…

As you dash out of Echidna’s lair, you clutch the Captcharoid Camera to your chest. Your weird guide laid out what sounded like a good plan at the time. First, you’d use the code he gave you to make the camera so you could obtain captcha codes easily. Then you’d go to the Land of Factories and Frogs and take a picture of the denizen Echidna. That code would let you make the Quills of Echidna, the final element necessary to perform a scratch.

What he didn’t tell you was that you were sneaking into the home of a giant spiky snake monster who doesn’t like visitors.

It looks like you’re finally safe. She won’t leave her hole. Enormous gusts of her hot breath rush out, but she’s clearly staying put.

-- siliconSwashbuckler [SS] began badgering anonymousAdvisor [AA] --

SS: You could have told me I was pissing off a giant snake thing! AA: Echidna is the mother of monsters. I assumed you were well versed in classical mythology. SS: The only echidna I know of is a red guy who punches things and shows up in games that stopped being good years ago. AA: My apologies. Did you succeed? SS: Yeah, I took the picture. SS: I’ve got a code now. AA: Wonderful. You’ll need to alchemitize that.

--

You enter the return gate and travel back to your home. The island hasn’t changed at all in the past month. Waves still lap at the shore, filling the air with the scent of salt. Seeing this place again stirs something within your chest.

--

SS: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of missed this place. SS: Will it come back after the scratch? SS: It’s my planet, right? Do I get a different one, or will I come back here? AA: I’m afraid that is beyond my knowledge. AA: Skaia works as it wills, and it tells its secrets to no one. AA: It’s of no particular consequence, though. AA: You have completed your quest and reached god tier. As you are neither a Time nor a Space player, those two objectives are the purpose of your planet. SS: I guess. SS: I get another sprite, too. AA: Correct. And you will have the foreknowledge to choose a more productive prototype. SS: …There’s something seriously wrong with me. SS: I almost thought that I was going to miss that idiot. SS: I’m going to get to work.

--

You head back up to your mom’s room. The house is surprisingly untouched. Part of you thought that there would be imps camped out eating out of your fridge and playing your consoles, but it looks like they left the island alone after you left. Maybe they have their own hideout with weird imp games.

--

SS: Uh… crap. SS: These are stupid expensive. AA: They are a weapon of legend and an integral part of resetting the game state. SS: I don’t have enough grist, even after a whole month of grinding. AA: There is enough in your shared storage. SS: I don’t really feel comfortable spending everyone’s grist on one weapon, even if it’s that good. AA: All of that grist would be lost in the scratch regardless. And your friends will not remember it. SS: …I’m kind of getting cold feet about this. Are they really going to be okay besides forgetting everything? AA: Yes. The scratch will not harm them. AA: And it is the only option for you to secure a second chance at Miss Orrin’s affections. AA: That is what you want, is it not? SS: You’re right.

--

You empty the entire Slopbox. The Alchemiter chugs for a few minutes, and then the top floor of your house explodes. Sitting in the wreckage of your mom’s room is an enormous pair of pearly white needles with jagged edges. They have be at least three stories tall.

--

SS: Whoa. AA: Indeed. SS: Uh, so what do I do now? AA: You have additional space in your Strife Portfolio, yes? SS: Yeah. I was thinking about making a gun to fit in the holster of my coat. AA: Apply the Quills instead. You will need the Needlekind specibus to operate the scratch construct. SS: Aw man. Alright.

--

The Quills vanish into your Portfolio, leaving you in the middle of the hole in your house.

--

AA: Time is of the essence, Mister Garrison. AA: Your window is closing. SS: Alright. I just want a moment to take a last look. If I never come back here, I still want to remember it. AA: Very well. But don’t let your nostalgia compromise your resolve. SS: Don’t worry. I’m committed. SS: I’m going to fix everything.

[collectivestuck-blog]

58

Wow, what a fucking waste of time.

You’ve spent the last month stumbling around in twilight, trying to find some special mirror or, even better, a joke to cheer up the cool cute girl you’ve been spending all your time with. She likes good anime and can argue better than you can and she’s clearly crazy over your stupid best friend who’s an idiot asshole for not seeing how goddamn awesome she is. He definitely doesn’t deserve her.

This is all his fault. He’s been whining about his stupid crush, and it drove everybody away. Liz refuses to talk to anyone (not that she really talked to you much anyway), Greg’s been kicked out (finally), and Stephanie hasn’t laughed at even your best jokes. Steve always talked big about being a badass leader – captain of a ship or lieutenant of a squad – and you always backed him up. But now he got the chance to show that all that gaming and all that hero worship meant something, and he flopped like a dead fish.

You study the next mirror. Like all the others, its frame is a dull metal – brass or something, probably. You’re no metal expert (you’re more a classic rock guy). The dim light projected by your Digital Display bounces off the reflective surface, but it dies out after a few feet. This isn’t it either.

Maybe you’ll just stop. You did kind of abandon your own quest. Sure, it was kind of impossible, but you could give it another shot. You’re not exactly doing anything useful here.

-- bebopBelter [BB] began badgering anonymousAdvisor [AA] –-

BB: yo BB: you there weird dude AA: I am always here, Mister Stelios. BB: i think im going back to my world BB: were not getting anything done here AA: I’m afraid that no longer matters. BB: huh AA: Mister Garrison has finally begun the final preparations. AA: Your game is coming to an end. BB: what AA: You have spoken to Miss Orrin. You are familiar with the concept of doomed timelines. BB: yea BB: she said when we make a mistake we stop being the alpha and all end up dying AA: Correct. And your course is finally set. BB: shit BB: did steve fuck everything up BB: i fucking knew it BB: im going to kick his ass AA: No, Mister Stelios. AA: This has always been your doing. AA: As Prince of Light, you have always been your own worst enemy. At every step, you have sabotaged yourself and your compatriots, and it is now beyond repair. BB: bullshit BB: i didnt do anything AA: Shall I lay it all out for you? AA: This all began that fateful Tuesday. AA: Steve had requested you as his server player. Due to your negligence, he was forced to contact Mister Carsten, who demanded a boon in exchange. AA: Mister Carsten demanded the payment of that boon in the form of a return to communication between himself and Miss Orrin, which Mister Garrison facilitated. AA: This led to the two lovebirds reconciling with a kiss, an event Mister Garrison witnessed. It pushed him over the edge and gave him the motivation necessary to put an end to this failed session. BB: your lying BB: theres no way thats my fault AA: I am far from finished. AA: Your unreliability required Miss Nestore to provide you with a compressed version of the software necessary to transport you to the Medium. AA: This manifested as a slight quirk in the operation of the Phernalia Registry; you were able to do something you should not have been allowed. BB: i sold the alchemiter AA: Had you the Alchemiter, you would not have found your personal quest impossible. Your arrogance would have been tempered, and you would have discovered the necessary components to finish your anthropomorphic vehicle. AA: Your quest would have been successful, and you would now be capable of preventing Mister Garrison from erasing you from existence. BB: no BB: your fucking full of shit AA: And I am still not finished. AA: The guardians who raised you and your friends woke you on Prospit and Derse with my aid. AA: They should have waited for Miss Orrin to enter the Medium and focused on her first. AA: Instead, your grandfather feared your unrestrained temper and chose to abandon my suggested order. He insisted on waking you immediately in an attempt to give you counsel. AA: This led to his battle with one of the agents of Derse. His victory inspired your guardians to meddle in Dersite affairs. The Derse royal guard was placed on alert, making them capable of intercepting and injuring Mister Carsten’s father. AA: Now Mister Carsten and Miss Orrin are on Derse staging a rescue instead of blocking Mister Garrison on the Land of Salts and Sonance. AA: The Prince is a dangerous class, fit only for one who can channel its destructive power for benefit rather than harm. AA: The Light aspect is among the most powerful, governing chance and opportunity. AA: A team with a Prince of Light needs him to be extremely competent, or he will bring them to ruin. AA: You are a failure, Mister Stelios, and you have cost your friends everything. AA: I suggest you simply wait for Mister Garrison to fix your mistakes as he always does. AA: It will not be long before he wipes this slate clean, and paradox space can forget what an utter and abysmal failure you are.

-- anonymousAdvisor [AA] blocked bebopBelter [BB] --

You…

You…

You did it again, didn’t you?

He’s right. You fucked everything up. And Steve’s going to abandon everyone to try to fix it. And he’s probably right.

You’re just going to sit here and wait for the world to end.

[collectivestuck-blog]

57

You are freaking awesome.

Parrots of every color imaginable flock around you as you float over your Quest Bed. A veritable rainbow swirls around you as you feel the incredible power of godhood course through you. The first real wind the Land of Tides and Trials has seen rushes through the palm trees, bolstering the glow that you feel rushing out of every inch of your immortal body.

…

OH GOD YOU LOOK SO STUPID

Your entire outfit is decked in the same red-and-pink hues as your Quest Bed. The heart insignia is emblazoned on your shirt.

More importantly, your lower half is only covered by a fuchsia speedo.

You do not have the legs to pull off a sexy pair of underpants.

-- anonymousAdvisor [AA] began badgering siliconSwashbuckler [SS] --

AA: Welcome to god tier, Mister Garrison. SS: …Um. SS: Is it normal to be half naked? AA: For a Page, yes. AA: You are uniquely blessed. AA: The Page class is difficult, starting extremely weak. SS: …Yeah, that sounds like me. AA: And yet with experience and understanding, it is the strongest class of all. AA: Pages are capable of feats beyond that of any other. AA: And you'll have plenty of time to understand how to harness that power after the scratch. SS: Do I have to keep wearing this? AA: No. You are absolutely allowed to return to your previous attire. AA: But it is hardly worthy of your newfound potential. SS: Yeah, I think I'll change.

--

You go back to wearing the Captain's Accoutrements. It's a whole lot more dignified.

--

SS: So now I'm god tier. Whatever that means. AA: The ramifications are legion. AA: First, you've transcended the limits of your ordinary Echeladder. AA: Scenarios that would previously challenge you are now inconsequential. AA: This is important, as the Medium will resist your efforts tremendously. AA: It will require all of the power you have mustered in order to find success. SS: Limit break. Got it. AA: Additionally, you now possess functional immortality. SS: Functional? AA: Outside of two cases, you cannot die. SS: And those cases? AA: First, if you were to die a heroic death – defending the life of another, for instance – the demise would be permanent. AA: I don’t foresee this being a problem. SS: What? Why? AA: You won’t encounter any of your friends on this task. You will need to travel through the lands of Mister Carsten and Miss Orrin, but both are otherwise occupied. AA: The other case is a just death. Should you abuse your newfound power and then find yourself dispatched by a hero, you would be seen as justly slain. AA: Again, this is no issue for you. AA: Outside of those two instances, should you suffer a fatal wound, you will simply revive instantly. SS: And this will let me live through the scratch. AA: Precisely. SS: Okay. Now what? AA: Might I recommend a test of your skills? The automatons are still on the island with you. They will prove a fine demonstration of your abilities. SS: Oh yeah. Where did those come from? AA: A loan from the Land of Whim and Will for your ascension. They are no longer necessary.

--

You flex your newly supercharged muscles. It’s like having lightning running through every vein. On a lark, you try doing a loop in the air. A new sense you don’t quite understand governs your flight, giving you perfect aerial control. You pull out Archimedes’ Worldmover and roll it along your shoulders, spinning it and flipping it with tiny muscular contractions. Every minute movement is precise and perfect, better than you ever were before. You snap your staff out, the crisp motion cracking the air.

The sound draws attention. Your murderers stomp through the jungle, enraged that you’re someone still alive. Their enormous metal fists still drip with your blood.

You smirk, whirling the staff before you like a buzzsaw. Payback’s a bitch.

[collectivestuck-blog]

56

After a wonderful eternity, you finally break your kiss to breathe. Greg seems just as stunned as you.

TIFFANY: So, uh, hi. GREG: Hi yourself.

Your face is flushed. There's a tingle that's running through your whole body.

GREG: So… TIFFANY: So. TIFFANY: Can we make out some more?

Ugh!

Your stupid BadgerBud chimes, totally killing the mood.

And it's a weird message too. All blank. You try highlighting the empty spaces.

-- anonymousAdvisor [AA] began badgering equineEngineer [EE] --

AA: Hello, Miss Orrin. I'm afraid we haven't the time for proper introductions. AA: I am a friend of Mister Garrison and Mister Stelios. And I would like it if you would consider me a friend as well. AA: But we're on a very tight schedule. AA: Your beau's father won't last long. EE: what? EE: gregs dad is in trouble? AA: Indeed. AA: Mortal danger. AA: You are capable of rescuing him, but you must act now. EE: umm EE: youre some weird guy who wont even type in a legible color EE: why should i trust you? AA: Ask your alternate selves.

You open your infinite sight, and your doomed selves have the same conversation. In some of them, the creepy stalker guy sends a picture of Greg's dad being ripped apart by the queen of Derse. By the time those versions of you receive the picture, it's too late to save him. Greg never forgives you.

EE: eep! EE: okay! EE: what do i do? AA: I have taken the liberty of placing your dreamselves in position outside the Derse royal palace. AA: If you inhabit them now, you can stage a daring rescue. AA: But you must act quickly. EE: so we need to go to sleep? AA: Immediately. AA: Should you need assistance, I can provide. EE: yes! EE: hurry!

You lock eyes with Greg. He's confused. You plant a quick kiss on his lips, and then you both lose consciousness.

[collectivestuck-blog]

55

-- anonymousAdvisor [AA] began badgering siliconSwashbuckler [SS] --

AA: I apologize for that momentary distraction. You once again have my undivided attention. SS: How am I supposed to get to Tiffany's world to scratch this cymbal? AA: That is a simple matter. You will fly through the Gate that connects you to Mister Carsten's planet, and from there you will ascend into the Gate to the Land of Salts and Sonance, SS: How? In case you haven't noticed, I am not a bird. AA: The solution that is also the solution to the other problem of a scratch. SS: Which is? AA: The temporal energy released by the scratch construct will completely reset the universe. AA: All events preceding the moment of the scratch will be undone, and no record of them will exist. SS: So no one will remember any of this. AA: Correct. AA: Which would rather defeat the purpose. If you are to prevent this unfavorable outcome, you will need to retain those memories. SS: And how do I do that? AA: You will need to reach a level of power previously unseen. AA: Immortality, Mister Garrison, overrides the power of even a scratch. SS: Uh, I'm not immortal either. AA: The fix for that is far simpler than you would expect. AA: It requires very little on your part. SS: Okay. What do I do? AA: One moment. I will need to move your dreamself, and I cannot do so while you are consciously inhabiting its form. AA: A special privilege granted the Heroes of a session.

--

The air pops, and your sleeping dreamself appears on the deck of your ship. It's kind of weird, staring at yourself next to you sleeping in yellow pajamas. You have the urge to poke yourself and see what happens.

--

AA: That would not be wise, Mister Garrison. SS: Huh? AA: Do not disturb your dreamself. It will play a vital role, and you need it unharmed. SS: Okay. Now what? AA: The whirlpool in front of you will take you where you need to go.

--

More sailing. It was really cool at first; you got to be a real captain, with a cool ship of your very own. She was quickly christened the Flying Shadow, a nod to one of James' animes. By now, though, it's just a chore. The novelty has worn off, and days of baking in the open air have soured your opinion of high-seas hijinks.

Travelling through a whirlpool never got any less frightening. You sail directly at it, feeling the sharp current yank your ship off course. The raging waters throw you back and forth, and with a lurch you're dragged into the dark abyss.

Then you just pop out of another one and sail away.

This time, you emerge in front of an island you're sure you haven't seen before. It's got all the hallmarks of a tropical island - palm trees, coconuts (god you hate coconuts), a jungle just beyond the coastline. This is only the second island you've seen with a path through the jungle, though. Most are completely untamed, forcing you to carve your way in.

--

AA: Here you are. Your destination is within. SS: That last time you sent me down a jungle path kind of really sucked. AA: This will be far better. Trust me.

--

With a frustrated sigh, you drop the gangplank and head ashore. The path is much shorter, and it only takes you a few minutes to reach the clearing at the center of the island.

--

SS: What is this? AA: Stand on it. I will do the rest.

--

You climb onto the stone slab. It kind of reminds you of a bed - there are four stone columns at the corners like bedposts. Some sort of white orb sits at the top of each, just like the towers on Prospit. That gives you a bit of comfort; the bright planet has always been relaxing, and nothing terrible happened there.

At the center of the slab is an oddly drawn heart. The left half is solid, while the right is a thick line marking out the outline. It's a brighter red than the rest of the slab, looking almost pink.

--

SS: Okay, I'm standing here. SS: Now what?

--

The air pops.

Standing in front of you are two giant robots. They look just as confused as you for a moment, and then they focus fully on you.

You only have a moment to gape before they pulverize you.

[collectivestuck-blog]

54

Another perfect operation completed due entirely to your management skills. As always, calm, confident direction saves the day.

Ms. Nestore proved surprisingly resourceful in a desperate situation. You're still not quite certain how she managed to rewire the strange small one's explosives, but it produced results. In the end, nothing else matters.

You consult your PDA for updates on your team. Now that you wrested control of the Battlefield's sendificator, you can travel between Prospit and Derse with acceptable levels of hassle. The arrangement isn't perfect, but it serves well enough. You don't do any of the traveling, of course; management needs to sit back and be objective, a state difficult to maintain when avoiding inconvenient stabbings.

Derse is now down three archagents. The Curious Deputy was dispatched by the Nestore girl's handiwork, and the Dersites learned the folly of using explosives. Stelios fought the Hale Behemoth several times before the giant finally succumbed to its wounds. You must give the old man credit; while fist fighting the beast was far from the most efficient solution, it did frighten the Derse royal guard into giving you room to operate. An effective leader allows his team to function according to their strengths, and the old man has a right hook worthy of song.

The Duplicitous Drudge proved far more difficult to overcome. Unlike the other two, he was intelligent enough to avoid frontal confrontations after his encounter with Ms. Garrison. Your games of cat-and-mouse occupied most of the last month. He would appear to threaten your subordinates, and you would attempt to draw him into disadvantageous fights. Even with you coordinating careful traps, your team was unable to pin him down. Finally, you pulled out your secret trump. The Drudge never expected Madam Marek to wield a cane with such ferocity. He didn't realize his hostage was a plant until she was raining blows upon his carapaced head.

All that remains is the Sinister Schemer himself. He's clearly your dark mirror, maneuvering his team in attempts to counter yours. Each move has been carefully calculated; he managed to neutralize Ms. Orrin, and it cost you dearly to recover her. The folly you committed in trying to place her in the field demonstrated the enemy's cunning and resolve. You haven't made that mistake again - she's far more useful organizing the Prospit army.

At last, though, the game is coming to a close. You've deduced the Schemer's location with minimal Prospitan sacrifices, and you've placed your team in position to prevent his escape. A reserve unit is on its way from the Battlefield. The noose is tightening with every passing second. It's a shame to see such a worthy adversary fall, but you'll savor the victory regardless.

…

Of course. Every plan must have its wrinkles.

-- anonymousAdvisor [AA] attempted to address efficiencyExpert [EE] --

AA: I told you we would not speak again. I'm afraid that was not entirely accurate. AA: What is about to happen will happen regardless, but I am now inclined to give you a short explanation. EE: I have nothing to say to you. Our business was concluded. EE: And after the threats I received previously, I will do no further business with you. AA: I had no intention of working with you again. AA: I am merely fulfilling my previous promise. EE: You made no such promise. AA: I told you that your son would be caused incredible strain when you would be hurt. AA: And indeed, it will. AA: I would say that I am sorry for this, but I have lied enough already.

-- anonymousAdvisor [AA] announced an adieu to efficiencyExpert [EE] --

That man.

You have no idea what nonsense he was spewing, but-

…

You are no longer in the Orrin girl's tower on Prospit.

You are now in the throne room of Derse.

In front of the Black Queen.

Who has a fully prototyped RING OF ORBS SIXFOLD.

And a terribly wicked smile.

This was not part of the plan.

[collectivestuck-blog]

53

NONONONONONONONONONONO

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!

THIS CAN’T HAPPEN!

YOU CAN’T LET THIS HAPPEN!

BUT IT’S HAPPENING!

HOW?!

AA: My condolences, Mister Garrison. SS: …Go to hell. SS: I don’t know who you are. SS: But I never want to speak to you again. AA: That would not be wise, Mister Garrison. AA: After all, you do want to undo this, don’t you? SS: What? AA: All of this misfortune that has befallen you. AA: All of the mistakes you’ve made that have led up to this moment. AA: I can help you wipe them away. SS: … SS: You can? AA: There is a way to wind back the clock. You can start over, armed with the knowledge you’ve gained from your tribulations thus far. AA: You can correct your mistakes. AA: It will require sacrifice. AA: It will not be simple or easy. AA: But if you wish it, yes, I will help you. SS: I’ll do it. SS: Anything to fix this. AA: Wonderful. AA: Then let me tell you about a scratch.

[collectivestuck-blog]

51

-- siliconSwashbuckler [SS] began badgering anonymousAdvisor [AA] --

SS: How am I not there by now? SS: I’ve been sailing for a goddamn month. AA: Patience, Mister Garrison. AA: You will arrive exactly when you must. SS: How about I arrive when it’s convenient for me? SS: Like weeks ago? AA: Temper, Mister Garrison. AA: I have not led you astray.

--

Why did you bother trying to talk to him anyway? He’s never helpful. No one is ever helpful.

For the past month, you’ve been stuck on a ship built out of driftwood by monkeys, sailing in and out of whirlpools and accomplishing not a damn thing. Your stupid guardian says you’re taking the correct path, but you’ve definitely passed by the same island three times. It probably would have been faster to try to find this stupid treasure on your own.

Of course, you haven’t been very successful in your own endeavors. When Greg was banished, you had the perfect opportunity to spend some quality alone time with Tiffany. And you fucked it up like always.

Almost every conversation with her has involved Greg. You both have bitched about his behavior, but it’s pretty clear she always means it regretfully. She definitely wants him back. You’ve tried to steer the conversation to other topics, like stuff you both enjoy, but your miserable social skills meant that you could only talk for a few minutes before drifting back to Greg.

This abject failure to impress Tiffany carried over to your other relationships as well. Liz has been no help whatsoever, and things with James turned terrible quickly. You had a huge argument over it. Sometimes you look back over the BadgerBud conversation, trying to understand what the hell happened.

--

BB: maybe you should stop trying to flirt with a girl who has no interest in you SS: She does not have no interest in me! BB: really BB: then why the hell does she always talk about another dude SS: Because he’s an asshole! BB: yeah BB: its not because shes not into you BB: its all the fault of the guy who isnt even here SS: Like you have room to talk. SS: You’re no Casanova yourself, dumbass. BB: you goddamn idiot BB: your blaming me because your too stupid to see when its hopeless BB: and go for someone who clearly cant stop thinking about your fucking stupid ass SS: What, Liz? SS: You’re the idiot, idiot! SS: Liz doesn’t think of me that way, and I’m not into her either. BB: o my god BB: you are that fucking clueless BB: what the fuck does she even see in you SS: I told you, she doesn’t. SS: Try listening sometime, smartass. BB: your goddamn hopeless BB: keep on failing like the loser you are BB: im fucking done with you

-- bebopBelter [BB] blocked siliconSwashbuckler [SS] --

SS: Yeah, well I’m done with you too!

-- siliconSwashbuckler [SS] blocked bebopBelter [BB] --

You still can’t believe he thinks Liz is in love with you. That’s stupid. She’s like your sister. You watch each other’s backs, like two halves of a square or something.

Of course, now you can’t talk to him. Not that you want to – if he’s going to be a stubborn dick, he can go fuck off.

…No.

…Please no.

-- audaciousArchitect [AA] began badgering siliconSwashbuckler [SS] --

AA: Steve. AA: I know you’re there. AA: If you don’t respond, I will exercise my power as your server. AA: I’ll drop something on you. SS: You know, I was really enjoying not being bothered you for a month. SS: I was talking to an AA who didn’t constantly tell me how terrible I was. SS: It was great. AA: Steve. I need to talk to Tiffany. SS: No. SS: She and I have actually had enjoyable conversations lately. SS: You didn’t come up in them at all.

--

He doesn’t need to know.

--

AA: Steve. I’m sorry. AA: I was an ass. AA: Now please, tell her to talk to me. SS: Ha! SS: If you think I’m going to believe that, you’re a bigger idiot than James. AA: …Please, Steve. Accept my apology. SS: No. AA: …I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. AA: I’m calling in my favor. SS: What? AA: When I agreed to be your server, you promised me a boon of my choice. AA: This is it. Get Tiffany to contact me. SS: … AA: You owe me, Steve. You know you do. SS: …

--

No. You don’t.

--

AA: Are you the kind of guy who would go back on your word?

--

You are.

For him, you are.

…

No. Damnit, no, you aren’t.

--

SS: …I hate you. SS: I fucking hate you. SS: Hold on.

--

Why are you doing this?

-- siliconSwashbuckler [SS] began badgering equineEngineer [EE] --

SS: Tiff. EE: hi steve SS: Greg wants to talk to you. EE: he does? :O SS: Yeah. EE: did he apologize to you? SS: Yeah, he did. EE: :)!!! EE: yay! EE: brb

--

You shouldn’t have done that.

--

AA: Good news, Mister Garrison. You’ve finally arrived. SS: What, here? AA: Yes, the island before you. The treasure you seek is there.

--

You steer your ship up to the coastline and lower the gangplank. It’s a short trudge down the beach to a trail through the dense vegetation. Everything is eerily quiet; you haven’t seen either an imp or a monkey hiding in the shadows.

After a few minutes winding through the jungle, you reach a clearing.

--

SS: This is it? AA: Yes. Your prize, Mister Garrison.

--

You poke the wooden chest with your staff, and it fails to react. The hinges creak as you lift the lid.

--

SS: What is this?

--

It’s a thin metal rectangle, the size of a notebook. The glass on the front has been divided into six squares. You fumble on the side, finding a button. When you press it, one of the squares lights up. It’s filled with a picture of yourself, right now, peering at the screen in your hand.

You press the button again. That screen goes dark, and the one beside it lights up.

It’s the Land of Salts and Sonance. You recognize it from the description Tiffany gave you.

And there she is, standing on a hill. It looks like she’s waiting for something.

Or someone.

No.

Fuck no.

Hell. Fucking. No.