(no subject)
So, maybe nothing too terribly dramatic happened in the Nexus on Halloween. No distressing LOLs or trick-or-treating monsters? In some of the adjoining worlds, there was no such luck.
In an open space a short distance from the main question area (but still in the shadow of the Sign), the rumble of a powerful engine, the screech of brakes, and irritated shouts ring out at increasingly frequent intervals. After about 20 minutes of this, a glossy and well-kept 1935 Rolls Royce Phantom zips through one of the aisles of couches, pursued by a limping Balthazar Blake. The labyrinthine layout of the question area is on his side, and it's not long before he corners the vehicle, but he seems reluctant to approach it. There's something weirdly animalistic about the way it idles, engine grumbling, headlights flashing. He hesitates, watching it, and holds up both hands as if in a pacifying gesture. "Easy, Dot...dammit! Does anyone speak car? This is not normal where I come from."
Rrrrrr, says the Phantom.
((Due to circumstances mostly beyond his control, Balthazar is now the owner of a temporarily semisentient car. The Phantom's thought processes are more along the lines of a wild animal's than human or AI, so attempts to communicate verbally aren't likely to be too successful, regardless of language, but feel free to comment or attempt to help. The car is just a little freaked out, 's all.
Tag will be slow, just to warn, but tenacious.))
In an open space a short distance from the main question area (but still in the shadow of the Sign), the rumble of a powerful engine, the screech of brakes, and irritated shouts ring out at increasingly frequent intervals. After about 20 minutes of this, a glossy and well-kept 1935 Rolls Royce Phantom zips through one of the aisles of couches, pursued by a limping Balthazar Blake. The labyrinthine layout of the question area is on his side, and it's not long before he corners the vehicle, but he seems reluctant to approach it. There's something weirdly animalistic about the way it idles, engine grumbling, headlights flashing. He hesitates, watching it, and holds up both hands as if in a pacifying gesture. "Easy, Dot...dammit! Does anyone speak car? This is not normal where I come from."
Rrrrrr, says the Phantom.
((Due to circumstances mostly beyond his control, Balthazar is now the owner of a temporarily semisentient car. The Phantom's thought processes are more along the lines of a wild animal's than human or AI, so attempts to communicate verbally aren't likely to be too successful, regardless of language, but feel free to comment or attempt to help. The car is just a little freaked out, 's all.
Tag will be slow, just to warn, but tenacious.))