Give advice to the OC above you!

Dudley furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Demonic... energy...? What were either of those? And how did it fit in a box that small? Why did he have it in the first place? But those were questions that couldn't be answered now, this man was relying on him to help him with getting rid of the box! If he was relying on him, then it had to be something only he could do that could fix this!

What was the answer? Fire? Flushing it down the toilet? Breaking it? That's it!

"I'll eat it!" Dudley suggested proudly, pointing upwards to his grand idea. Then, he eagerly reached for the box--

"This door isn't working!" Dudley said as he continued to pull on the door that had a "Push" sign on it.

(( xe will ABSOLUTELY be fireworks's best friend without a DOUBT )) 

The comic book villain nods with great and honest empathy, as xe swings back and forth, hanging upside-down from where xe is thoroughly tied up in a mess of pastel kawaii ribbons. The caper is over at this point, and xe expects law enforcement to be here any day now. However, xer sound defeat is entirely secondary to the *REAL* issue at hand, that being this magical girl's anxieties, and their fascinating relationship to entropy. It makes the para-physicist's brain itch with a giddy glee.

"-Oof! Wow, do I hear that. Folks tend to get real attached to the laws of physics- as they understand them. I don't think people always intend to be so rigid in their beliefs on the natural order? I suppose the effort of a whole paradigm shift is just not something that the average Joe has in them to make. That's why it can take an act of BRILLIANT and UNDENIABLE TRANSGRESSION, to USHER US past society's BOUNDARIES, conquering the TERROR of SCIENTIFIC ADVANCEMENT IN THE NAME OF A NEW, THRILLING, NUCLEAR FUTU-"

Xeno starts coughing, gagging on xer own monologue. Eh, xe's already been defeated, xe can save this part for next Saturday morning- or, uh, however long it takes to break out this time. Xe shakes xer head, clearing it like an etch-a-sketch, and tries to return to a more gentle, sympathetic tone. There's more important stuff going on!

"Sorry about that. Megalomania, you know how it is. What I mean to say is- changing how people think about, well, change... it's hard? Every evolution has growing pains- which is to say, collateral damage is inevitable. All people want is to be able to rely on something, to have a predictable, unchanging source of comfort to return to. So, when you turn their reality into a roulette wheel... it can feel like an attack? WHICH IT IS! Or, at least, it is when I do it. You, on the other hand? You're a good person! You want to help people, it's in everything you do. I am certain that, if you just keep trying your best, keep using your power to save people, they'll catch up. Some schmoe you pulled from a burning building will notice that- for all the chaotic mess and silly, comical, downright convoluted solutions your powers provide, they still make the world better. You make the world better."

Xe nods, earnest- before squinting behind goggles, looking over Firework's shoulders.

"-Oh! I see red and blue flashy bits coming our way. Looks like I might be outta time. Remember- People can change, too! They can change how they think of you. Don't worry so much about trying to impress them, just focus on being a good person! And, ahh.... OH, right, almost forgot! This isn't the last you've seen of me! Curse you, Fireworks! Ecetera, ecetera! --You're doing so well I believe in you you've got this!!"

"---Listen. Listen. So, ah, little embarrassing, but nothing I can't handle!"

A frazzled Xeno paces back and forth, staticy hair splitting ends as xe tries to muster up the words to explain this.

"In a moment of questionable sobriety! I! Xeno Cherenkov! With my INFINITE GENIUS! Appear to have made changes to the access panel and accompanying 3 part escape room/obstacle course built into the entrance of my SANCTUM OF ATOMIC MADNESS, and, uh, can't get back into my house." Xe sighs, rubbing xer forehead. "The last time this happened and I got halfway into the TRIALS OF TERROR before I forgot the solutions to my own damn puzzles. I got locked in and had to eat my own shoes for sustenance. I'm a little- ehhhh, cautious to do that again. I could try and manage these blackout-puzzles on my own, but it turns out, I'm even less coherent when my projects are influenced by THE MAJESTY OF RECREATIONAL CHEMICALS, so I'm a little doubtful. D'ya think I just blow up a new entrance, and risk setting off the battle alarms? Or... what?"

/hey. I hope this doesn't stretch the thread rules too hard 🙈 blair really does think like this tho./

"You right there mate?" Blair gives a wheezy snicker. Of course the guy's not. "But yeah, lessee." He plucks the crumpled note from Veritas' hand, and reads it over.

"Your kids! Oh, man, oh man. That's sweet. Look here." He puts an arm around the man's shoulder--or, gets halfway into the gesture before he realises he's not tall enough for it, and settles for looping a skinny arm around Veritas' elbow instead.

"Listen. It doesn't matter. The past is the past. You fucked a few people over? Big deal, who hasn't. C'est la vie." (he pronounces that phonetically.) "Kids' gotta learn about the world one way or the other. Deadbeat dads are a dime a million. If ya fell outta touch, I'm tellin' ya, it was for a reason. By the time ya start feelin' bad about it, it's already wayyyy too late." Blair smirks bitterly, and holds the note aloft. "You want some real advice? Here:" now flames climb his fingers, turning the little slip of paper to ash. The remnants fall away into the breeze. "Just forget it."

With that, he wipes his hand on the much taller man's coat as he disentangles himself. He huffs a little chuckle, and pats Veritas on the arm.

"At least you won't be havin' trouble with that."

Blair clenches his teeth to suppresses another wave of shivers. God, he looks like a wreck, he knows it, and he feels a dozen times worse--withdrawls are such a bitch. Of course there's no good way to remedy that quick when you're on the road. This whole routine is so familiar, and so, so shit.

"What the hell are you looking at." He growls. He looks away with a huff. What, never seen a serious mage before? Why haven't you fucked off yet.

"Sorry," he explains, more softly, "Rough week."

Seriously? You still haven't left? He closes his eyes for a little while, and takes a slower breath. It wavers as he sighs it out (he does not have to fake this.)

"...Rough year, actually. Me mum's got Mage's Rattles. We've both been workin' ourselves half to death with conjuring work since my brother died, but, y'know, with the crop blights it's gettin' harder and harder to afford anythin'. People don't wanna pay much for mages anymore, they jus' can't account for the expense. An' I get it, it's hard for everyone right now. But," his voice breaks, "My mum's too sick from all the magic to work anymore. I've been pushin' my luck too far also, an' I'm gettin' sick too." He balls a trembling hand into a fist to try and stop it shaking, but the tremors go all the way up his arm. "I can't afford both our medicine." He sniffs, the portrait of pathetic, "But I can't stop workin', or she'll...." he trails off, and looks to you with big, glossy eyes, "What am I meant to do?"

Brown locks fall over the woman's shoulders as she turns her head to see the destruction Alistair had brought upon the room they stood in.  A frown painted on her lips, she let the other vent his frustrations out, all while observing him with sad eyes.  Rather than approach him and offer comfort he may not want in the form of touch, she moved around the room.  Picking up the mess and setting things where she guessed their rightful place to be.  

Alistair's words had struck a chord with the woman, words she'd sometimes find sometimes directed at herself.  "A waste of space?" She echoes the question back to him, holding on of his belongings in her hands.  She held it like it would shatter at any moment, if the woman so much as breathed on it incorrectly.  She turned her head to look at her troubled companion, brown doe eyes filled with concern for this stranger.  She didn't know him, but she didn't feel she had to when it came to showing others empathy.  

"I think..." She starts speaking, her voice as soft as the snow that falls in winter, "I think we generally struggle to find worth in ourselves when we feel we fail what we think it means to live.  Lives...have no measurable worth, as I think just being alive...is enough.  Living is a struggle, every day is a war, and the fact that you stand here today, another day- is a victory.  You struggle, you rage, looking for meaning but that just means you feel.  All life is valuable, and thus you are not a waste of space...." The woman's words trails off, she feels like she spoke for too long- but these own thoughts had plagued her own mind as well.

"Things are- difficult for me when it comes to my family."  The woman's words were shaky, as if opening up was causing her a great deal of distress, or perhaps her troubles were.  "We are at a divide.  The youngest and the eldest hate each other- I think, and to side with one is to side against the other.  Playing the middle man is also not an option, as that is also essentially siding with the eldest.  I don't know what to do, I just want my family bonds to be okay- but it seems like an impossible dream."  The woman's hands flew up to cover her face in her stress. 

he taps his chin with his eye closed in thought. "So in simple terms, you're feeling pressure from your family to perform a perceived duty. I'm inferring that you don't want to go into the line of work... or you feel insufficient to complete the task. Either way, heavy is the head that wears the crown. It's a complicated web, one that I don't have a lot of information on. Do you care for your family? Then I suggest playing along, or better yet finding the path in which you excel and finding a way to show it off... or perhaps better still finding some deed that they can brag about to others. You'd be surprised at how good of a distraction it is to give people like that something to puff out their chest about. It came from MY side of the family and so forth."

He gets a bit of a mirthless razor grin.

"If you don't care so much... then find yourself busy. With very important things. Yes, so very important that they simply cannot wait. might even have some karmaic justice by having whatever it is related to the goal that they've set before you. Show them the consequences of their wishful thinking. Malicious compliance is always a wonderful form of rebellion. Find out the flaws in the man. It isn't healthy to be idolized as a grand hero, makes things nasty down the line when the illusion is shattered and gives the 'Hero' a big ego. In my opinion, seeing that your goalpost is as mortal as any of us can help alleviate the pressure. True stories are better than folk tales anyway. I hope the words of this lowly theif could be of some assistance." 

Perrotte slams the tankard of ale down on the table, making a sound that's uncharacteristically loud for the careful sneak. His face is flushed, clearly he's had a bit too much. "Now. Listen here. I've got a little problem. A conundrum, a little puzzle. If you can solve it for me... I'll give you a prize." he chuckles without an ounce of mirth.

"There's a friend. And that friend likes m-you. He likes you. No-he loves you, like a schoolboy who hasn't had his first kiss yet. And he told you a special secret. That he's losing his mind, and that pretty soon he's going to be a wartool that lives for bloodlust. because a god" he spits out the word, "hates his Mom. And he makes you promise on everything that you have to kill him if he goes berserk. only problem is... you've never killed anyone before. And you don't plan to anytime soon. So you have to solve the curse instead... You talk to his Mom and she gives you a little story and says that there's a trial to take to prove that he's let go of his rage. and your stupid friend fails it-well-no- he didn't fail it... it just was rigged. And then all your friends... and this dying man and his mom looks at you and tells you to figure it out and the guy even confesses that he likes you. You do some research, look at the options, and there's a more dangerous version of the trial he's already failed... just this time if he fails, he goes rage monster instantly. And you've got one week before you have to slit his throat... what would you do?"

Prism blinks at the rancorous bar-goer, one row of eyes after another. What zi is doing in a place like this, is beyond hir. Someone from behind the counter tries to offer hir a drink- zi holds up a star-spattered hand in reply, shooing them away. A martini glass manifests out of points of light, and fills itself with a fluid like the night sky. Zi pantomimes drinking it, for the sake of appearances- zi can't hardly be standing in a bar without participating. Besides, zi can't help but get pulled in by the gravity of this man's- Is breakdown too unkind a word? It's certainly some sort of a breaking point, although he may be too deep to recognize it.

"I don't want your junk." Zi speaks, plainly, in regards to the offered prize.

"If you must leave an offering, make it a jeweled one. Besides, you won't even know if your whole crisis is averted until- a week, did you say? Tch, talk about a tightening noose..." Zi trails off, clicking hir tongue. Perrotte's explanation of this whole situation struck hir as dreadfully scattered- probably owing to that little 'breaking point' thing he almost certainly got going on. Like someone trying to track each piece of this on a napkin, zi wound creating tiny points of light for each 'player' in this problem of his- graphing them together in a constellation. Zi touches the point above them all, above Perrotte and his first maybe-love, above that person's mom and above the game. 

"...Gods are monumental, unfair beings. You almost physically can't make them happy, once they've set their mind on something. Trust me, I dated one for- well, it was either five minutes or an eon, hard to tell which, but I assure you- long enough. Still, I wish I could tell you that- I don't know, love conquers all, and you'll both be fine and skip off into the sunset, but- honestly? Even if you win this secondary trial, I doubt that'll be the end of your troubles. Gods don't like to lose. When they invite mortals to play a game, it's not because they're giving you a chance to win. It's because they want it to be your fault when you fail. It's gauche to go all fire and brimstone on your subjects- let them think you're kind enough to bargain with." 

Zi sighs, lowering that datapoint back down into the constellation. Hir hands cycle through the other points of light, reprisenting the human element of all this.

"That doesn't solve your problem, I know. It might just make you more angry, at the cosmic insignificance of it all. I don't know how this first test he took was rigged, but- since you seem half-way smart- I'll assume you're prepared for the second one to possibly be rigged, too." Zi takes a long drink. "...This isn't to say that you shouldn't try. Sometimes, it's all you can do. Will it feel worse, if he fails and goes past the point of no return, and you never even attempted the second method? Will it feel worse, to put it off until it's too late? And, perhaps, if your scattered, panicked brain has enough left to think in this direction, maybe prepare a third option. Not murdering your feral loverboy, but trapping him, until you find a solution. If one God can't help you, maybe another can. Some of them even like the pitiable ones."

Zi puts down hir drink. It vanishes. There is a rare tone, a hint of a greater sadness in hir synthesized voice.

"...Good luck."

For NP: Spoiler because Prism just kept talking

Krabby looked down for a bit as he tried to conjur up a response to this.. interesting predicament. Tapping his foot with his arms crossed. Wondering at the same time how he was being asked to give advice to a god.

He sighed and lifted his head, looking up at Prism. Squinting a bit from the light yet mesmerized at the same time from the wide variety of colors.

"While I.. personally think that on one hand I think that.. morally at least.. it is important to learn how to speak to other people and appreciate the inherit value of life and whatnot. The second one at least.. is quite important to me. Although.." he sighed again " the person you speak of seems to be quite the character.. a negative character specifically. Not saying he doesn't deserve to live if that was in consideration.. to be fair I don't think anyone deserves to die.. um.. to be fair that is just my opinion of course." 

He put his hands together looking down, pretty nervous altogether. Sweat rolled down his forhead a bit. After a second he shot back up, coughing into one of his hands.

"Sorry! Sorry um.. I suppose I got distracted. I hope you don't mind that. Anywho, my personal solution for this would be to.. free him from this kaleidoscopic labriryth you speak of if that hasn't already occurred. I also suppose indeed.. causing harm to your girlfriend. I'm not exactly a relationship specialist or know exactly what it would be like in one.. or get out of one, well I suppose that doesn't apply however I suggest you have a sit down with them and discuss why this guy.. is not a good person exactly to be around and how you personally feel about this. Within a calm manner, I believe that would be the best way to communicate this at least. "

Krabby scratched the back of his head as he finished his speech.

"I hope that helps.. I don't often give to advice to anyone but I do hope I did a good job" he chuckled awkwardly.

----------------------------------------------------------

He nervously coughed into one of his hands. 

"I'm particularly sorry to burden you with the burden of this but.. I believe that I must get this out somewhere." He put his hands together, looking down with a nervous expression on his face under his plauge doctor mask. "You know all my life.. I have lived alone, and done many things by myself. Well not all of it I suppose but most most of it. It is not something I particularly mind of course.. but it.. or more so the reason I do so is what bothers me." He rapidly taps his foot, awkwardly looking around.. for some reason he felt guilty and even a little bit embarrassed. Unsure if he should continue. "Most people are.. are afraid of me. Even when I'm in my current attire. Without it am.. a particularly.. horrible creature. Actually my eyes are almost constantly leaking of dry blood, i even vomit it sometimes. Not to mention I jave horribly skinny and long limbs. To be fair I would suppose that is not it as well I usually have my clothing on most of time unless I'm showering. My guess is my height? I don't know for certain.. considering we'll, everything- sorry I might have rambled too much. Anyways I have no intention of harming anyone. To be fair if I was them I would be quite fearful as well, but it does hurt me at least in the emotional way." He sighs. "Do.. you have a solution to this? It's perfectly fine of you don't want to do so. I understand."

(Also tag me in your response)

response for uwutuber

"Being afraid of something unusual and unknown is completly normal. I understand why people arond you act the way they do. But in regards to your problem..."

Raum stayed silent for a moment, thinking about the best answer. He got used to abnormal stuff like that, so he had to remember something from his past.

"This may sound too simple, but just... don't do any harm, I guess. Getting acceptance from people is not a quick task. They will find you unsettling, but if they realise, you are no threat for them, they will... warm up. The important part is to take it slow, do not rush into hugging everyone around you."

"As for me, i have a rather strange question. I've spent thousands of years in a place, where morality doesn't exist. I've seen all kinds of horrors and I've lost count how many times have I died. And because of that, my emotions became rather numb. This isn't much of a problem for me, I guess people around me are bothered by that. Especially new employees. So, my question is... How can i come off as a less... inhuman person?"

Garu sighed and placed his arm around Raum's shoulder. He put out his cigarette on the floor. 

"That is quite the predicament, isn't it?" he asked, leaning forward trying to break Raum out of a stiff posture. "I wish I could tell you that you didn't have to worry about it, but becoming desensitized to death could become an issue, yeah? It could make you reckless or insensitive, and things will always go right back to the start, won't they?"

Garu now lit his cigarette again, dealing poorly with the serious topic without it. He was a necromancer, and he had talked others through desensitization to mortality and revival before, but it was different for those who knew it was a problem. He couldn't speak as an exasperated mentor, only as a momentary advisor. 

"It's only natural to become numb to it, I suppose. Life, death, do it all over again, quite the hassle, yeah? And it's messing with your employees. Look, I know my way around strict bosses, so from the other side of things, how 'bout you try to lighten up a bit? Maybe it won't matter, and they won't remember the last times you met them, but each new reset is a chance to do it better, huh? Or, y'know, just forget about keeping up productivity so much. It'll help them out, and it won't matter if things reset anyway. I guess things not mattering can't always be the worst."

Garu handed you his bottle of sparkling wine, not particularly caring if you took any or not. "Hah, wouldn't you know it, I've gotten myself into quite the situation. See, there's this guy I like, and we used to date for a while. I still like him, y'know. Only problem is, he pretends we never dated. I know it's for appearances, but I feel as if he's embarrassed for anyone to know. Hm, his reason? Oh, he happens to be the owner of a large company. And, uh... my boss."

(vvv yooo chad is so cool ghjhhgfjkhg)