*Aghhh* The groaning of over a hundred drunkards fills the Falcone estate's backyard. As we walk in, we see dozens of teenagers and adults spread out on a platform. Some are in the fields, while others are on the roof, whereas the majority congregate in large dunked piles. At the foot of this pile, we can see a black splotch slowly moving, trying to escape the colossal weight that pins it to the ground. A minute later, the pitch-black slug slips free, exhaling a sigh of relief before charging to the hand pump for a refreshing splash of water. Reaching it, it pulls out an undefinable limb out of its round form grasping the metal construct. At first it seemed nothing has happened until a torrent of water hits the slug. These goes on for a while.
Coming out of his ivory tower, old Dunchin pauses as he surveys the especially empty village. After running through dozens of memory skills, he concludes that he is getting too old for this and needs a break after his successors rise to the position. Going along with his morning routine, he grins a devilish smile. "Combine Shout!" "Empower Sunshine!" "Sudden awakening!" He reentered his tower; he shouted with no shame in his voice, and only a childish giggle escaped his lips. The snoring groans of the Flacons evolved into enraged shouts.
First there is the twitching; piles tremble in indignant rage as their individual pieces are jolted with the force of a hundred espressos. Obviously, they are still hungover. Then there's the rolling; individual tucks and turns cause smaller units to be crushed and pushed for space. In response, someone goes beyond an intelligible groan; others copy and follow suit, resulting in a very loud domino effect. The blotch didn’t care, though, as it was already awake. The validity of this claim is dubious at best, as the thing hasn't moved and is still spraying itself with a continuous blast of water.
A towering man emerged from the estate, his muscles gleaming in the sun; he wore cut shorts, no shirt, and a very large, very crocked hay hat. He goes back to one of the smaller piles first, flashing his hands briefly before diving into the tangential mass without dismembering its constituents. “Come on, come on!" Mumbling as his hands dig through various body parts "Gotcha!" exclaimed the titan, pulling out his haul.
Small, weak, and emaciated in appearance, with bones poking through paper thin skin, bruises were forming on the smaller man's shin he was dragged out by. "Two more minutes, Antonella?" Mumbling, the half-asleep mage cast a spell, having brushed off the majority of the shout. Throwing the old fool on to his shoulder the giant calmly walks over to the water pump.
Noticing the dark spot soaking in the water he waves “Morning champ, how’s your CON doing?” Motioning to his head before whipping out the fragile pile of bones over the steam of water. The spot waves back before motioning a “So-so.” Having its source of water taken the spot slugs of for some refreshments indoors.
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Man nodding continues to blast the mage with water, hands flashing out again before the water pump spews raging river of water at the still mage, shattering his shield and soaking his robes. “Sea and Land” a gurgled voice intones the water now more interested in the parched ground then the mage. “I’m up, I’m up” waving his lazily through the stream cutting through as if air.
Slowing down his pumping, the titan responds by pointing at the still bruised shin of the other and asking, "Are you going to fix that?" The tone was both condescending and humorous. Docs was born with a rare negative trait: halved CON doubled VIT, but he got a mutation that quadrupled his mental states instead.
The blob stopped before entering the estate, tuning around to see the tense stalemate between the two. The story goes that he did that to squeeze out some stat-mana to heal his dad. The story goes that he did that to squeeze out some stat-mana to heal his dad. Though If Mom's description is correct, the reason there are no scars running up and down Dad's chest is a result of those inflated statistics. Is he still upset about crippling the Docs class? Shaking his head at his father’s denseness, both literal and metaphorical, he goes onward on his quest for some juice.
When the blob entered the estate, he noticed the very scratched up and dirty floor, and disgusted, he used "Repeal Ink" to float his dark body across it. Entering the kitchen, he finds the copper-red-skinned boy, Will, crafting a hangover beverage meant for a dwarf. When he notices some of the freezer ingredients, he asks, "Hey, did it hurt?" Even now, the blob was fixated on Will's mutation choice. Double heat resistance, double cold weakness, he shivered at the thought.
Turning around and noticing the floating pitch-black orb, he called before shaking his hands and head, "You said it before." "Situations can be prepared for; daily success, though future sacrifices are required," he said, shrugging. "Besides, you got me that new heating skill; I'll be back to normal in no time!" The blob didn’t share the same joy: "You couldn’t leave the forge during the winter." "And then you got the others to do something hair-brained and make a walking forge, so what’s the issue?" The question was firm and directed to the root of the blob's incessant whining about his situation.
Looking back, the blob can see his father drying himself as he and his friend started a water fight, soaking and waking up nearby brick heads. Raising his mental numbers for his dad he responded. "I feel responsible for your choice." The room immediately became tense. "Double weakness to cold? Long term, we can fix that, but, in the meantime, your..." The blob stopped as I tried to find the right word.
"I’m what?" Will he stop making half-cooked rocket fuel to listen to his friend’s worries? "Vulnerable?" Unsure if that was a good word. "Vulnerable?" He then points at Doc. A master earth and water mage now, an eager prominent paladin in the past. “He doesn’t seem to be having issues with your dad.” The question acting like a hammer that asked if your stupid.
"I know, I know, I’ve done the math; your choice is great; it’s just..." Will threw a bucket at the blob, catching it, he was then doused by its inky contents, giving it an even darker appearance. "We’ve had this conversation before?” Exasperated "I'm fine, you're fine, the group is fine, and if we get a problem, we will deal with it as a group." Pausing for breath before gesturing to himself, he said, "This isn’t a problem, just an opportunity, so you better make some new training regimens." Shaking his fist before finishing his concoction.
Walking off with the now foaming tankard he stops before saying "Oh yeah the twins are in the freezer." Leaving the now shaking, dripping blob before it rushed for the freezer.