Igor's Warehouse, Apocalypse Avenue - Late Friday night
"Oh, yes, Scraps. This is excellent." There was a complicated array of wires, threaded through curling, curving, twisting glass tubes, stretching from the wall socket to a tank filled with bubbling, glowing goo. There were vague shadowy lumps floating in it.
It definitely wasn't water. Even the water in the Ankh River didn't look like that. "Perfect, perfect," Igor muttered to Scraps, who was watching with interest from his basket under the workbench. "You might want to close your eyes."
The made-of-many-dogs, recognising the tone of voice, covered his nose with his paws and did as he'd been told. Igor flipped a switch and there was a loud buzz as one hundred and twenty volts of power travelled up the wires and into the tank.
The liquid bubbled. It oozed. It flared into bright and glowing life, illuminating the warehouse, then faded as Igor once more flicked the switch.
What remained in the tank was the culmination of weeks worth of work. Noses, some shapely, some not, with two little human legs growing out of them. There were a dozen of them, all jumping up and down in the tank and, who knew how (Igor certainly didn't), emitting high pitched squeaks.
Igor grinned a huge and merry grin. "Captive lightning certainly makes things easier."
Whistling tunelessly, he put the lid back on the tank for the night and trundled off to his bed, Scraps trotting behind. If he'd been a little less pleased with himself, he might have thought to put a weight on top of the lid. The noses were active and their legs, though little, had a heck of a leap in them.
[ooc: just establishy!]
It definitely wasn't water. Even the water in the Ankh River didn't look like that. "Perfect, perfect," Igor muttered to Scraps, who was watching with interest from his basket under the workbench. "You might want to close your eyes."
The made-of-many-dogs, recognising the tone of voice, covered his nose with his paws and did as he'd been told. Igor flipped a switch and there was a loud buzz as one hundred and twenty volts of power travelled up the wires and into the tank.
The liquid bubbled. It oozed. It flared into bright and glowing life, illuminating the warehouse, then faded as Igor once more flicked the switch.
What remained in the tank was the culmination of weeks worth of work. Noses, some shapely, some not, with two little human legs growing out of them. There were a dozen of them, all jumping up and down in the tank and, who knew how (Igor certainly didn't), emitting high pitched squeaks.
Igor grinned a huge and merry grin. "Captive lightning certainly makes things easier."
Whistling tunelessly, he put the lid back on the tank for the night and trundled off to his bed, Scraps trotting behind. If he'd been a little less pleased with himself, he might have thought to put a weight on top of the lid. The noses were active and their legs, though little, had a heck of a leap in them.
[ooc: just establishy!]