AltonicKeys

Hey Guywhorepeatsthemselfthreetimesfollowedbyafourthstretchedoutword, what's that one really good movie with the blue guy with the big head? Oh, woahhahooauhuOAghoureAAAIUOOuuhg. owAAAA

Look man, you just have to accept it. Just think about it. Is your calculator haunted and mind controlling you? Ohhhh. That makes only a little bit of sense, but I would prefer it that stays way.

Granted. What? Why would I be lying? Why so accusatory? I wish for a nice, cozy suit of armor.

Oh great Lord Mistborn, grace me with your infinite wisdom in the language of the gods! That fails to explain the chair, but does a great job providing exposition for the incoming invasion.

Granted. You can freeze time, but you freeze as well, and so you can't unfreeze it. As time is frozen, you cannot age. Good job, you are now functionally immortal. I wish to never run out of pencil lead.

@SpiritOfWrath

So, about limbs... Can kandra use their organic matter however they want, or do they have to form the shape of whatever they ate? For example, could a kandra take 20 human femurs and become a 20-point star and move around like a sea urchin? Could they take 60 femurs, and become a 20-point star, each limb with 3 bones, 3 points of articulation, like a finger?

Granted. You can now speak every language, but everything you say is in English. I wish for a reeeally good cheese

Keys frowned, not expecting a surprise attack. Which was... to be expected, he supposed. That's funny. Wonder if he can make a joke out of that. Probably later though, and he instead draws his handy-dandy space blaster. A small handgun in case of the rare emergency, though Keys has begun wondering the definition of "rare." Surveying the surroundings, he speaks up. "Anyone know what this is? Any beef they'd like to reveal?" He starts aiming the weapon at the archer, but doesn't fire yet.

What is this tomfoolery. What is this unformatted, raw text in front of my eyes. I decide to blow you up with my mind powers. The Sandwich lands on the ground where you once stood.

Keys pointed at the stranger with a smile. "No I do not! Even if I did, it's probably not in this world and/or planet! Supposedly here, there's only the Inn and some junkyard. Try to walk down the roads outside, you end up here." He squinted at the odd pieces of paper. "So I guess, if going there is your goal, your first step is to find something/someone who can get you there. Usually a portal, but that was Mister Fadran's thing." He looked up at everyone. "Unless someone has freaky magic powers they'd like to reveal?"

"Mister Fadran? Still back on that adventure I mentioned earlier. Stupid rain planet made getting back here difficult. Until I got thrown into a weird vortex thing, of course. But yeah, I guess he used this place to house lost travellers, like me. And I assume you guys?" He shrugged. "Well I dunno. I just got here. As long as I'm not constantly rained on, I'm happy."

"Well I stayed here for barely an hour before leaving, but welcome to the Mipmap inn! Or... Mix-match?Mishmash, I think. yeah. Welcome to the Mishmash Inn!" He raised his hands in a welcoming gesture. "I'm Keys, but call me whatever you want."

"Oh yeah, I came here... Maybe a year ago? Crazy how much it's changed. I guess that's what happens when the owner goes off on an adventure." He tried wiping most of the water off his raincoat. "Apparently there's no way back there, so I can't get back to him. That's alright though, that place sucked big time." He paused, looking up and studied the room. "So what's happening here? Evil, secretive plotting in the evil secretive inn? Love what you've done with the place by the way."

In quite a convenient moment, an odd portal opens in the hallway outside the map room, dumping rain onto the already rotting floor. Following the water, a person fell through, who then scrambled to his feet to try to get back up. In quite an inconvenient moment, the portal closes, and the person signs in defeat. It takes a moment for him to look around and realize, "Hey, I remember this place. Sorta." He peeks in the lit map room. "Hey, I don't remember you guys. What's up?"

I enter the charred wreckage of the Desert. This is. uh. Not good. So I sweep it under an adjacent rug to cover it up, as if nothing happened. Because nothing happened. cough

Granted. The bright lights beam down on you. The collective heat of the stadium is making you sweat even further. A hundred identical people stand around you. You're confused, disoriented, and tired. So tired. How long have you been playing? Feels like hours. What's the score? Does it matter? What are you even playing? The crowd moves away. All that matters at this moment is to lie down, preferably somewhere cold, close your eyes..... Someone shouts your name. You open your eyes. No one's around you. Behind you, your teammate is about to get swarmed by the enemy team. You lock eyes across the floor. They nod, and throw the ball way over. Everyone's heads turn to follow the ball, which lands in your surprised hands. A basketball. You turn around. The basket. But you're tired. Your legs are weak, arms are shaking, the edge of your vision is starting to blur. The shouts around you are starting to blend together into a horrible cacophony of shouts and yells. Why are you even trying? The sounds are getting louder, the lights are getting brighter. But then... The light reminds you of something. The shine reminds you of someone. Your dear friend. Lerasium. They've been through so much, unfortunate name included. Just to get you to this spot. To play in this court, this stadium, this grand city of dreams. And at that moment, you realize. You can't let them down. Can't let their efforts go to waste. So, despite the sounds, the lights, despite the fatigue, you push the ball down. It hits the floor with a clear thump, washing away the noise. You catch it in your hand as it comes up, then push it back down again. And you start running. A mad dash for the net, a wild, instinctual moment. But no one can stop you. The opponents made a fatal error of leaving you alone, allowing you crystal clear passage to the basket, which you gladly take. And a moment before you hit the pole, you jump. No. You soar. The ball in your hand raised up at the bright orange rim, like an arm reaching up for heaven. A single tear leaves your eye as you whisper, "This is for you, Lerasium." And like an angel descending down to earth, your hand crashes down on the net. Your feet hit the ground as the ball does, and a loud buzzer sounds. You look up at the scoreboard.... oh actually, uh no you didn't exactly swish, but you kind of dunked. oops. I wish for a really good burger

I, coincidentally being in the same house as you, trip on the rug, spilling my hot steaming cup of indescribable sludge all over the rug. The rug is no longer nice.

Granted. You have A bent bar of some alloy, which actually is steel, but it only got F grades in school. I wish for a really cool rock, that does NOT cause bodily harm to me.

He eventually finds one. The floor mostly level, and there is a small trickle of water leading from the ceiling through another passage.

Ferris stands fully, grinning. Finally! He gives himself space from the wall to swing fully, but close enough to be hidden from the tunnel. He swings a few practice hits like a golfer and waits for the sound of feet.

Slightly concerned, Ferris sits up, slightly more attentive. Though he was familiar with the typical antics of airhorns and noise machines, he did't expect anyone to bring or build one here, in a game based on hiding. Otherwise, he stretches his arms and kept his back to the entrance wall.

Hello hello I am curious and concerned? I think I wanna join but I have no clue what happened in Great Spirits so I am intimidated