RP:Ranok Gets the Finger

Part of the Venturil's Bane Arc

Background

For reasons known only to itself, a severed portion of a finger formerly belonging to Maladroit, the eerie familiar of the Necromancer Tenebrae, has attached itself to the message board in Kelay via a sucker-like extrusion on its rubbery tip.

Kelay Tavern

Ranok was there, poking at the fleshy appendage on the board. Oh, he wasn't stupid. He was a scientist at heart, worked with dangerous chemicals that explode or worse at a moment's notice. He was using a stick, in the most scientific manner possible.

Maladroit's finger seemed to enjoy being poked at. Playful filaments of wormlike, black matter wound their way around Ranok’s poking device, giving it a little tug, just for fun.

Ranok was a fairly worldly man. Still, this thing was creepy. And niggingly familiar. Three electric blue lights bloom over his right shoulder, contrails of afterimage etched into the air from their passage. Intangible as they were, they were able to get much closer to the severed appendage then the smith wielding the Stick of Science was. Right hand scratches his chin idly, "Hy...feel like Hy've seen dis before. Dis kan' be a remnant uf de Vailkrin Entity...doze vere kleaned up. Avfully energetic." The lights bob and weave in their equivalent of a shrug, though like as not only Ranok would really recognize the gesture.

The finger took a blind and probably unseemly liking to those lights. In a welter of curious filaments tugged itself free of the board with a little 'pop', and proceeded to swarm up the stick in the general direction of Ranok.

Ranok nearly wasn't paying attention to the movement of the finger he was poking. The lights flare suddenly, the air gaining the distinct smell of ozone, "Whoa!" Opting to not allow this creepy thing to touch him (he'd had completely enough of these sorts of things when he'd lost his arm in the conflict borne of the Vailkrin Entity). The Stick of Science was heretofore dropped swiftly, and a step taken back. Metal fingers flex, the appendage a crude thing. He was working on improving the thing over time. Right now it was a rough replica of a human's skeletal system, made of metal and mechanics rather then bone and tendon. Still, his hand reaches into his pockets, looking for a jar or something. Cursing the lack of feeling from his primary, the task would take entirely too long for his liking.

The gaunt’s prodigal digit was thus abruptly dropped. Not keen to relinquish its new plaything, the severed finger and its several 'tendrils' kept a hold on that Scientific Stick, waving it about like some hideous and miniscule orchestra conductor from another dimension. Moments later, using a few of those tendrils as erstwhile limbs, it slithered toward Ranok again, attempting to poke him in the ankle with the stick - the smith was not the only one with scientific curiosity, even if he had a brain and opposable thumbs, as Maladroit's finger did not.

Kumorohyou walks in to find Ranok fighting against...a finger. Raising a brow in fascinating, the panther's exoskeleton begins to materialize around him, making him look more like a bipedal insect without a face. It was his environmental suit, his best physical weapon, his symbiotic partner.

Maladroit's finger was hardly a threat. In fact, it was the one perceiving itself to be threatened at present -- and would wave that stick about as if to indicate 'engarde!' while not really meaning it.

It did that whilst intermittently attempting to poke Ranok in the ankle. It was no cowardly finger.

Ranok was a bit torn, here. On one hand, metallic as it was, this thing was fairly interesting. He hadn't much time to study or construct, save for pursuits for the greater good. On the other, multiple tendriled things of horror weren't things you should poke. As late for that piece of advice as it was. Once again, the lights float down to the stick wielding appendage. A voice that emanates from everywhere and no where in particular remarks, in a voice equally devoid of inflection or emotion, <Most curious. It seems to be making an attempt to learn, or contact you.> Ranok nearly irritably kicked the thing, to the point where his foot was moving, but then he halts. No, don't touch it. Didn't want to get the boots dirty...plus it was awfully huggy, looking at that stick. "Hy tink Hy might try to kapture it. Hell if Hy know vat to do vith it. Chust vatch it break de jar und go on a rampage as an abomination uf science." He still hadn't found that jar. Keeping half an eye on the thing was distracting him, and he really hadn't organized his pockets in far too long.

Kumorohyou 's massive Spirit stretches forward, seeking to collect data on the creature from a distance. Was it threatening, or simply frightened. To Ranok, the exotic feline speaks in an equally foreign accent, "You could try taking a step back, and seeing if it follows."

The un-appended appendage seemed to have taken fright at all the various reactions to it, though how it perceived anything at all was simply too ludicrous a question to ponder on for long. Offering Ranok's ankle a swift poke, it abandoned its stick-ish prize and on those same weird filaments went swarming back toward the wall, presumably attempting to regain familiar territory on the notice-board.

Maladroit itself was 'peering' in the window, looking somewhat like a faceless and dark reflection of the feline's armour. Its featureless head canted, dog-like, as it encountered the exploits of its former finger.

Kumorohyou looks out the window, the glow of his turquoise eyes the only facial feature that could be seen behind his translucent visor. His Spirit detects the presence of the gaunt, but he couldn't necessarily tell what it was through the window. Staring back at the small finger, he would soon draw the conclusion. "Of course."

Maladroit raised a set of fingers that did indeed resemble the one slithering away from Ranok, and proceeded to tap those on the glass.

Kumorohyou approaches the window, his voice having the tone of multiple people whispering along with his own voice, "You left something behind...Why?" The panther was curious to see if logic or conventional reasoning was even a driving force for this entity, or if madness was its preferred rhetoric.

Ranok found *a* jar, though it was currently occupied by some sort of red liquid. He was being incredibly careful with it. Hard to tell, but motions were slow and deliberate. "...Hy tought Hy kleared dese out..." Onto a table it went. Hopefully, no one knocked it over. The liquid inside was quite happy to conflagerate at a moment's notice in the presence of oxygen. He returned to the pockets, arm actually going nearly up to the elbow. Obviously, the size of them was larger on the inside then out. A glance sent at the window when the tap was put onto it. Then a double take. Watching the smith's expression would be an interesting thing. Grimjawed surliness, to one of mild puzzlement, and then to rage, "Hyu!" Now it all clicked. He remembered where the damn thing was from, as well a certain kidnapping nearly two years ago. "Vere HYU are means dat SCHE hain't far behind. She vould kome back after Vailkrin vas torn up, gotterdammerung hall!" He'd withdrawn the questing hand from his pocket, finally having found the jar he was seeking...unfortunately, motor control over the artificial limb wasn't what he wanted it to be. Emotions still caused wonky control. In this case, the flash of anger made the hand contract into a powerful fist, shattering the jar and sending it raining glass.

Maladroit had no ears at all, and was also being talked at through a thick pane of glass. Nevertheless, the Necromancer's familiar nodded it faceless head. Then it shifted away from the window, next to appear as a dark and rather disturbing shape in the doorway. Pony-sized and resembling in shape a horrendously emaciated gorilla with horns and a spike-tipped tail, flanked by a pair of furled leathery wings, the abomination knuckle-walked stoically into the tavern. There, it paused to once again ponder the peculiarities inside.

The finger scuttled faster up the wall, suctioning itself back onto the board and retracting its tendrils.

The creature from whence the finger had come surveyed this, then leveled a blank look upon Ranok, and while it bore no expression at all the familiar seemed to radiate a sense of 'look what you've done now'. The question of the necromancer's return was deftly ignored.

Kumorohyou noticed that the creature did not respond to his vocal query. The panther then attempts to forge a temporary arcane link with his Spirit, a unseen pathway that allowed for universal communication, much like telepathy. Through it, he indicated to Maladroit that the shaman is non-hostile, and wishes to know who and what the shadowy creature is.

Maladroit knew full well that the shaman meant it no harm. Which was, by and large, why the shaman was not currently battling for his life. The gaunt creature shrugged off the arcane link, as one would a an annoying insect or.. scientist.. and lowered itself to its haunches. Nothing like it had ever existed in the lands, and never would again - and now, its Mistress was missing. It saw no reason now, or indeed ever, to explain itself. The familiar did, however, transmit a burst of imagery mainly concerned with squid, as if to apologise for its lack of co-operation.

Ranok dumps the shards of glass onto the ground, scooting them under a table before Nancy could see. "She left vith hyu. She took hyu vith her. Und now hyu return. Vere iz de master holdink de leash?" Boots, clad in mechanical workings, clomp on the wood as he approaches the gaunt. Shrugging off the mental imaginary himself, with the assist of his armor, which still bore the trio of lights bobbing along, he stops fairly close to Mala. "Plottink zumddink, no doubt. She's picked a grund time to kome back. Hy'd suppose she doesn' know about de ruination in Vailkrin, but zumddink tells me she does. Vebbed schpider as she iz. Feh. Not my headache, tough."

Ranok was more angry then anything, truly. What demands he could make of Mala were few. One may suppose he just wanted someone to yell at.

Kumorohyou blinks slightly at the strange imagery, before taking a step back, watching the shadow but listening to what Ranok has to say.

Perhaps the smith had forgotten -whose- familiar he had been... To the gaunt, a yelling-at was water off a duck's back compared to being crushed to paste and fed to a hungry chitterling. Or being left disembodied and in agony for decades at a time. Anyway, it could bear being hollered at, and since the point of Ranok's ranting was entirely moot, it figured it was best to allow the smith his conniption, so it could it utilise its time in studying the shamanic being with the interesting armour. Another curious tilt of head, Kumo's way. Meanwhile the finger was pretending to be a advertisement or something, in order to avoid the attention of the loud thing with the metal extrusion.

Ranok stops his grumblings, subsiding into a fumy sort of anger. Much like how eskimos have seventy two names for snow, one might be able to name each of the strata of Ranok's various levels of surliness. Metal digits twitching with the remnants of emotion flowing through him, he turns his attention to something else he could actually effect. Capturing that digit. Now that he knew who it belonged to, it was best if he removed it for public safety reasons. The lights, for their part, were floating over to Maladriot, moving around the gaunt in casual circles. They weren't harmful, though they had presence. Seen without eyes, they'd be much bigger then they were in reality. Or was the truth the other way around? Only person that knew wasn't exactly telling. Made of electrical energies, touching would result in a mild shock as the discharged, nothing more. Draeta, its name was, and it was quite interesting in Mala, having never seen an example of magics twisting in quite this way.

Maladroit had encountered whole dimensions full of electrical beings in its wanderings, and so had little curiosity where Draeta was concerned, since the being was not apparently a predator of note. Maladroit's finger twitched, as if homing in on Ranok's intent, and pushed its suction cup harder against the board. Meanwhile, the gaunt was deciding to knuckle-walk a little closer to Kumorohyou, its spiked tail twitching and head canted.

Kumorohyou stands where he is, his armored tail swishing and making a slight clinking noise, the chitinous plates along the appendage rubbing together with each movement. The surface of the panther's exoskeleton seems to shift slightly, a low stuttering noise indicating that it was, in fact, a living thing. The panther's Spiritual presence was but the shoreline along an ocean of power, but he would not seek to engage the creature unless he was forced to defend himself.

Maladroit stretched forth a finger -- this one firmly attached to its hand -- and gave that living armour a gentle prod, unless the shamanic creature inside it managed to convince the armour to avoid the gesture.

Ranok had fished another jar from the duster. This one was a really sturdy one. Made of so-called Unbreakable Glass, it usually held chemical compounds that were highly unstable, which was to say 'explosive'. Large enough that a fist could be inserted into its opening, the thing could be used as a weapon if one had a mind to. Up to the board, with its suctioned hitchhiker, to seemingly inspect it.

Maladroit had discouraged the invasive spirit-thing emanating from the panther, for the panther's own good - Maladroit's mind was no place anyone but the gaunt itself wanted to be, but with no way to communicate this quickly, the familiar simply pushed the questioning energy away. In its consciousness swam unspeakable abysses, out of time and out of space, in frightening and insane dimensions, where a creature like itself was more at home than here, in Kelay tavern... The armour was interesting, though. And there was matter of Redhale, and the message. Also, the matter of the severed finger..

The finger, in some unfeasible and inexplicable manner, managed to look very stubborn.

Kumorohyou 's Spirit withdraws from the creature, his armour glowing with pale-turquoise lines similar in pattern to a circuit board as Maladroit prods the surface. Other than that, the shaman does nothing else but wait. He wants to see what the shadow will do.

Maladroit did nothing more than make tippy-tappy noises on the armour with the prodding digit. Sitting down once more, it leveled its blank visage at Kumorohyou, then back to the armour, as if asking, what is it?

Ranok shifts his body a little, pops the lid off the jar...and in a motion, pushed by the smith's considerable strength and assisted by the springing of small blades from the tips of his artificial fingers, piledrives his hand through onto the board. Sinking deeply into the wood, curling as they do, creating an impromptu cage around the stubborn finger. Really, Ranok knew how to handle stubborn. Stalwart, immovable, and absolutely refusing to budge? Well, sometimes the ground they walked on was easier to move. So, with that in mind, and the wrenching of wood, grunt of exertion, and splintering, he tears a hunk of the board right off, plus the finger. Quickly, before it can really scuttle anywhere, he does his best to shove the hunk of wood, metal hand and all, into the jar. A click, and the hand pops off, and the lid slammed on, hopefully trapping the severed digit in the sturdy confines of the jar.

Kumorohyou 's armor is not metal, but a chitinous, biological material. Unfortunately, he was still not sure how to communicate complex ideas to this shadow familiar.

The finger, upon being imprisoned, immediately set its flesh unravelling into long threads that wound their way around - and into- that metal hand. Soon, the contrived limb would be completely infested by an irritated digit. Hopefully Ranok wouldn't be needing it any time soon. Or, if one took the finger's point of view -- hopefully, he would.

Ranok did need the hand...but not that one, specifically. It was a bit of a sacrifice, removing the appendage from his wrist, as it forced a downgrade until he could make another. Still, though, as he raised the jar, propped up on the stump of his forearm and splayed organic fingers, he couldn't help but wonder what reattaching it after its infestation would result in. Ranok also has Kirien's Christmas present, too.

Kumorohyou said to Ranok, "So who is this exactly?"

Inside the jar, the infested hand clenched its fingers - the digit enjoying this newfound multiplicity. Shortly after, it unfurled its central portion, in what approximated -in this world, and several others - a very rude gesture. Not that the scrap of Maladroit's odd flesh could possibly be aware of that. It was just.. stretching.

Maladroit itself ruffled the leathery matter of its wings, turning to Ranok as if it too wanted to hear his reply to Kumorohyou's question.

Ranok answers gruffly, "An abomination. But dese days, vat hain't? A pet uf Jolie's. Bitch dat she vas, vunce sicced on me to kolleck me. He lost a toe from dat vun, so Hy suppose Hy've kollected a finker dis meetink. Keep dis up und Hy'll hef my own gaunt, heh. No but really, dis tink iz actually kind uf kreepink me out." He didn't like watching his work be corrupted so. He liked that hand, but it was the only way.

Kumorohyou turns back to Maladroit, the shaman inspecting the creature with great curiosity. The panther was looking at what feels like a void, but it wasn't something that surprised him terribly. He had endured the Hellplane as one of his rites of passage into the Shaman Council.

Maladroit, on perception of said reply, did not chuckle, for it had no mouth at all, nor any organ necessary to such a noise. And yet, somehow, the creature radiated an air of high amusement.

Maladroit’s gave that armour another poke.

"*the panther's Spirit communicates his query to Maladroit* So what brings you here? Just passing the time and waiting for this Jolie?~"

Kumorohyou attempts to commune silently with Maladroit, the armor that calls itself Timeless Chorus making itself appear inert as it is poked by the shadow familiar. In reality, it was still attempting to collect information on the creature as it touches the chitinous surface.

"*a glimpse of endless wheels of stars, before the panther’s Spirit is unceremoniously shoved out of the familiar's mind, like an unmannerly drunk being ejected from a tavern*"

Maladroit shrugged its bony shoulders at Kumorohyou then, as if to communicate that it was all for the best.

Kumorohyou blinks slightly, before shrugging his own armored shoulders. Clearly this creature wasn't interested in talking to him.

Quite the contrary - Maladroit was sharply interested in communicating with the panther. Just.. in a way that would not turn Kumorohyou's mind to so much paste. This presented an equally interesting problem, one the gaunt would ponder while watching Ranok and the thing in the jar.

Ranok was actually interested in how the appendage was infesting the mechanisms of his hand. Was it taking control of the runes that operated it, removed from the powersource that allowed them to operate? Or was it growing tendons to take advantage of the structure to work in much like an actual human's hand would? If the hand was to be lost and be replaced, may as well learn from it all.

Ranok shakes the jar a bit, too, simply because that was what you did with things stuck in jars.

Maladroit's finger was doing all of the above, and a few things Ranok wouldn't think to wonder about, too. The result was a biomechanoid hand, however. One that was, if a hand could be said to hold expression at all, glaring sullenly at the smith.

Kumorohyou sends Maladroit a biological schematic of a humanoid, highlighting the ears and mouth that could help with communication, before withdrawing again*"

Maladroit swivelled a blank look toward Kumorohyou, exuding a sense of ineffable patience. Then, with only a brief perusal of the thing in the jar, the familiar took off in its oddly graceful, shambling gait toward the door.

Ranok said to Maladroit, "Ven hyu see her, remind her dat she schtill owes me qvite a bit. " Maladroit paused but did not turn around. It had no way to explain that it was not going to be seeing its Mistress any time soon. For every action, there is an equal and op[posite re-action. One rift closed, one monster expelled.. another rift opened, another monster.. well, it wasn't hard. Maybe Maladroit would find a way to explain it to Ranok some day. The creature shambled onward, through the door.

Kumorohyou raises a brow, feeling grateful that the creature was being patient rather than upset. As the creature leaves, the shaman takes a seat in the corner, looking over a book that is made of similar material to his armor.

Ranok fehs, watching the shambling creature go. Such as it was. In the meantime, he might learn a thing or two from the captured hand. Tucking it into a pocket, giving a nod to Kumo, the smith withdraws as well, off to his own business.