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**Schazer** · 10-04-2009, 05:42 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

reserved after you too. Agreeing with AF.

GBCE · 10-04-2009, 05:43 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

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SleepingOrange · 10-04-2009, 05:44 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

The spider was collapsing in on itself, forming a roiling mass that was gradually sorting itself back into the boxes. It worked as quickly and efficiently as ever; soon, the only items not in the boxes were the pen, paper, and ink, and a pair of gears, which were hovering about eye level and clicking together, propelling imaginary clockwork.

The pen started drifting lazily, apparently pensively, across the paper; the golem's thoughts were less pointed and utilitarian than usual. It seemed to be... musing.

there is an interesting property of objects from my perspective

form dictates function and function sets form

take these things as an example

-the gears waggled at Reccxer-

i have never encountered these objects before but i know what they are for and how they work and with a little concentration what these ones in particular have been used for in the past

and that is what intrigues me about this

One of the boxes opened, and the sphere from earlier hovered lazily out, a small amount of dried blood still crusted on it.

i am having a harder time than usual deciphering this thing

but i think i may have figured it out

touching it will send your mind to somewhere or somewhen else

it is less of a transportation than the sharing of a

of

of a living memory

your mind travels elsewhere but your body lays limp and inert waiting for your minds return

obviously this is unacceptable in our situation

but if you know the way of it and touch it just so

it will hide your physical presence

or send it with your mind

i am unsure

this thing is somehow tied with this place and it may be worthwhile to see what it can do and where it takes one

and it may not

There was a pause for a moment, and the pen tapped on the paper, flinging a few errant blots across it.

i think

on less basis than is likely wise

that what you have done is approximated this things function

indeed the sphere feels somewhat odd now that we are here

i cannot pretend to know what you did

but i worry that we may not be here physically

The pen scribbled little circles for a few moments, the gears spinning faster

there are many things i do not understand

Gestalt was frustrated.

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**btp** · 10-04-2009, 05:47 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

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Reserved after Schazer.

GBCE · 10-04-2009, 06:34 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

The Sunset had been watching the proceedings silently, trying to make sense of the bizarre situation. It strolled slowly and monotonously down the length of the abyss, ignoring in general the antics of the other contestants. Strolling quietly and mechanically, the rigid being reflected happily on its seeming non-presence. The fact that the others had failed to notice the Balancer was of no concern to it. They will all inevitably betray one another in the end, and The Sunset's non-involvement in such squabbles was perhaps for the better. The being strode smoothly up to the wall that contained them, and ran a hand over the containment. Thick. Solid. In all likelihood, comprising more than the simple bricks it appeared to.

The somehow unnoticed, massive entity went about its own machinations quietly. It was unlikely that it would do much at the moment- unless provoked.

The idea of trying to escape from this battle seemed foolish to The Sunset, though he had heard others speak of it. Why attempt to break free of the grasp of an entity powerful enough to rip beings from the multiverse and strew them about in this cloaked plain? Nowhere that could be penetrated would be deep enough to escape. But such foolishness would be attempted, and the Balancer would do nothing to stop it. For now, it just tried to get a grasp on the situation, starting with the nature of the others. The Vyrm'n, in particular, was of concern to the being.

**Schazer** · 10-04-2009, 07:41 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Vyrm'n took in Maxwell's words. They fell in the Faceless' mind like drops of water upon a pot earth as barren as the ground the two sat on. It was a stream of consciousness, without the usual filtering and purifying which went on before it reached you. Somehow, that always made the words seem more distant; tools to effect a change you saw, rather than the change itself.

In comparison, Maxwell's rambling engulfed Vyrm'n's psyche, and the dark spirit revelled in it. It was a flow that neither demanded nor rejected response from the Faceless, happy with it either listening or responding. It was exactly what Vyrm'n had longed for, without realising it, in the harsh laboratories it had been experimented in; harking back to the long-forgotten shared song all the Faceless sung in unison at the edge of the universe.

His is a beautiful soul, Vyrm'n thought to itself. The only beautiful thing I have seen since... ever. I must protect him.

"... the things you can't remember tell the things you can't forget..." Something in Vyrm'n stirred at those last words. Maxwell seemed to detect its response, and glanced up at the Faceless. "Yes?"

I... know where my family are. I suppose, if I had freedom, I'd go back to them. But... I don't know why. Why I want to. Something in me does know, but I don't remember... Maxwell was about to reply, when suddenly the Faceless rushed off its seat, almost leaving Maxwell sprawling.

"What happened?" The Faceless' demeanour had completely changed, hackles of jagged crystalline nature rose from the bend in its towering bulk. Maxwell, uncertain, placed a hand on the smooth darkness-

What'sgoingonwheredidtheygothere'stwomissingbutist illsensethemwhat'shappeningthisisimpossible
and swiftly pulled his hand away with the rush of uncontrolled thought coursing through the Faceless. It darted across the ground until it stood in front of the spot where the Professor and the golem had been only moments before. Maxwell caught up some moments later, trying to figure out what the Faceless was staring at. Vyrm'n's focus was shuffling between what registered in his senses and Maxwell, who stood there looking confused. Suddenly, the array of knives and other parts of Gestalt emerged from the dark being, and fell to the ground with an unresponsive clatter.
Withdrawing its preferred writing-knife, Vyrm'n carved roughly in the ground:

<THEY ARE STILL HERE BUT NOT HERE.>

Maxwell blinked, and studied the offending patch of ground. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "What am I supposed to be-" Vyrm'n grabbed him roughly, and pulled him infront of the Faceless so its bulk towered over him. A single thought echoed through their link - You will see it as I see - And then before Maxwell had time to respond, it lunged forward and engulfed the man in darkness.

Maxwell thrashed and tried to escape, but the darkness soldified around his limbs and face and would not yield. He noticed, at least, it had given him enough space to breathe. A moment later, Maxwell tasted fresh air coming through a gap to his mouth, although the channel must have been curved for no light reached him. To see like the blind, you must blind also, explained Vyrm'n. Maxwell didn't respond; he was trying to conserve his breath in case something went wrong, and still hadn't gotten the hang of replying in the same manner to the Faceless.

The connection opened again, but this time, Maxwell sensed the creature's entire being rushing at him like a torrent. At the front was a message. Take it. I will protect you. Maxwell couldn't have refused even if he wanted to. The Faceless' being engulfed him, dissolving and consuming the existence of Maxwell Deakin.

An instant later, the rushing stopped. Maxwell tried to open his eyes, but somehow found the notion ridiculous. Trying to stand, or move, seemed to yield a similar reaction from his mind. He extended his consciousness around, to see what was there, and found Vyrm'n all around. A blizzard of light swirled around Maxwell, although this blizzard appeared slowed down, every mote heading in an indiscriminate direction at a pace that would take forever. Every single piece sang out a story that rang in Maxwell's hearing; or what had substituted for that sense. Although the song was shouted at by every atom, no two in time, Maxwell managed to get the gist of some of it.

This is Vyrm'n, Maxwell thought to himself. My point of reference hasn't moved. That would mean... he extended his consciousness out beyond Vyrm'n. If every one of those points was an atom, it should have taken forever to cross the several feet of darkness that shut Maxwell off from the rest of the world, but he quickly realised it was simply a matter of scale. Scale and focus.

Leaving the boundary of Vyrm'n's matter, Maxwell took in what the Faceless' senses showed him. He could differentiate everything at an atomic level, every point of existence singing out to Maxwell the nature of its being in the same way Vyrm'n's particles did. The song of the air and earth and wind and walls was somewhat quieter than the cacophony within Vyrm'n, but the sheer abundance of EVERYTHING else and its associated singing was almost enough to drive Maxwell insane. He wondered how Vyrm'n managed to avoid it, and listened to Vyrm'n's song again for clues. Focus on one thing. That would do, Maxwell thought to himself. To start with, he listened to the air. Maxwell heard the wind, and not just the song its constituent atoms of air and dust sang to him. The vibrations of sound resonated in Maxwell, matching a known sound and let him recognise it as wind.

Extending his range of consciousness even further, Maxwell noticed the other feature of Vyrm'n's "vision": The matter of sentience was brighter, its song louder, than the rest of the music around it. Maxwell could "hear" the presence of Galus, Samuel, Cabaret, the Sunset, and of course Vyrm'n easily. He counted them and noted their positions, before remembering he was supposed to be looking for the missing two.

Restoring his focus to the patch of earth where Armidillo and Gestalt had last been, Maxwell was surprised to see their song was still present, though quieter than the non-sentient matter of this plane. In a process akin to tuning, Maxwell shifted some facet of his being until their song reached the volume similar to what Vyrm'n's had been. He noticed that while Vyrm'n's was still strong, the others' songs had faded into the background.
He glanced around at the matter on this plane, and was amazed to find himself in a lush, beautiful garden. Living things without sentience, again, had their own song; not as loud as sentience but louder than dead matter; which was richly complicated to suit each atom's complex story of use and reuse in plants and animals since the dawn of time.

The professor looked at Maxwell in amazement. "What on earth are you doing here?" Maxwell started, and couldn't really find an answer. He noticed on that on this plane, he was stuck in the position he was entrapped in within Vyrm'n on the other plane. As such, it was rather awkward and his feet weren't touching the ground. He must've looked rather stupid.

Back on the barren plane, Vyrm'n noted all of this, albeit with a vision slightly obscured by the cry of matter in this plane. The process to extricate Maxwell from the garden was easy enough, to break the connection should do it as Maxwell was still, technically, residing on this plane also. Noting its friend's embarassment, Vyrm'n adjusted his body so Maxwell stood a little more normally, though his feet still didn't touch the ground.

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GBCE · 10-04-2009, 07:58 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

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GBCE · 10-04-2009, 08:28 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Archduke_Ferdinand.

The Sunset noticed that the number of bodies here was lessening, and the notion that they might dissipate to a place it was not within disturbed the Balancer. So it tapped into the fibers of its being.

The Sunset was built to traverse his universe like a kind of wild engine, splatter from planet to planet and eliminate whatever rogue being he had caught scent of. A very sinuous and organic engine was present within his form's memory, a kind of genetic pull that guided him to where he needed to be in his plane. Slowly the machine went into a kind of trance, analyzing the world around him and darting back and forth to find the trail of the creatures that had been here.

It drifted like this for many minutes, its old structure trying to divine information from a place drastically different from the world it called home. Trying to fight the ineffable pull of failure and loss. It was so difficult to find a trail- but then one presented itself.

The combined energies of the being called Faceless and the 'professor' it had encompassed.

The air around the Balancer became tense and angry, like some kind of great cosmic event was in the works.

Its tar-like, rusty purple strands began vibrating and growing thick, pulling the entire suit together in their madness. Tender cords became rigid pipes, hydraulics based off the machinations of reality itself pulling air and material together like so many pieces to a puzzle. Sizzling bolts of electricity sprayed from its form, and the earth around the being shook like a gelatin earthquake.

All of a sudden the space around the Balancer seemed to whirl and collapse into a bubble as his form shook.

A heavy green bolt spilled from his arm and into the ground around him, though it stopped short of any target. A singularly massive whorl of power sizzled around him, encompassing him like a great opaque bubble of power.

And then it popped.

In the green Eden that existed behind all the lies, a sudden woomph emanated, followed by shockwave. A black patch of earth now existed where once did flowers, and a smoking, steaming, pulsing suit of armor took its place, guns smoking and the audible sound of something powering down filling the air. Smoke pillowed out of his form. A year ticked off a meter on his chest.

The Sunset had arrived.

GBCE · 10-04-2009, 08:56 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

Dairy of Professor Armidillo Reccxer: I honestly thought I had more time! First that Maxwell Deakin fellow shows up, floating I might add. Then that machine-like suit of armor, what was it called again? Oh yes, The Sunset shows up. This garden is much smaller than the endless field, so if combat does erupt I'll have to take that into account. for now, I choose to Ignore that machine, and focus on the fellow with the rapier. "What on earth are you doing here?" I asked him, not really expecting an answer. suddenly, he went down to the ground, peculiar. My friend Gestalt seemed agitated by the presence of the Sunset. I would focus my attention on it later, for now I wanted answers from this chap, mostly if he could be trusted.

That Sunset may be the missing piece of the puzzle...

**btp** · 10-04-2009, 09:00 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

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GBCE · 10-04-2009, 09:02 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Languidiir.

BOB WHY ARE YOU DOING ANYTHING OTHER THAN PODCAST WORK >:V

**btp** · 10-04-2009, 10:17 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

So it seems the others have found their way into the garden before me. No matter.

Samuel had found what he needed. A tiny sphere had been sitting, sleeping apparently, alongside one of the walls. With this, it would only take a moment to transfer his consciousness to the true labyrinth field; however, he would first need to deal with the Ursian and his newfound magician friend. While the two men following him had proven useful during his search, he highly doubted their ability or desire to fully protect him should another contestant wish to interfere with his plan.

"Is that it?" Galus shouted gruffly "Did you find your doorway?"

Samuel smiled, "Indeed, Galus, this is the nexus of which I spoke; however, it seems that I will not be the first one to enter the garden. Several of the contestants have found their way into it before me. How they learned of it, I do not know."

"Sounds like you failed in your mission then. Couldn't keep them out."

"Unfortunately, that is the case. I hate to ask too much of you, but at this point, I desperately need your help." At this a wary expression covered Galus' face. Samuel continued, "At least one of the other contestants have entered the garden by mental projection. This means that their bodies still exist in this plane. If one tampered with them, it should disrupt their connection, thereby ejecting them from the garden."

"And you want us to do this for you? Why should we?"

Samuel's voice took on a more urgent tone. "Because I am unable to do this alone, and timing is critical. I am not asking you to put your lives on the line for a cause I am certain you do not believe in, but at the very least I need you leave now to investigate this for me."

"If it's all the same to you," Cabaret spoke up, "I'd much rather stay here, it's much more peaceful."
"True," said Galus, "I'm sorry Samuel but your crusade to save this place is not on my agenda."
"Yes, I'd much rather listen one of Galus' stories. Did you know he used to be a pilot?"
"I still am a pilot."
"Well, not technically, I mean you're not in a plane."
"Piloting is a part of life. You don't simply cease being a pilot once you leave your vessel."
"Well that's just silly, pilots can fly, and you certainly can't fly right now not with than scowl on your face you can't."

"Enough!" Samuel yelled at the two, and a foul stench spread about him. The grass at his feet withered further until it rotted into a cloud of dust which began to swirl about the Karmist, creating a dark nauseous fog that started to encroach on the field around him. Galus reached for his holster and a stiletto popped into the magician's hand. "I had truly wished to avoid resorting to these measures, but you two have left me no choice." The line of dying grass continued to spread outward from the Karmist's feet as the dark cloud rose higher, obscuring both Samuel and the orb he carried.

Inside the cloud, a transaction took place. You, nexus. You reside in both worlds, this one and the one I wish to visit. Your garden here disgusts me. I can feel it's untainted life pulsating all about me and yet where I currently stand I can do nothing about it. I wish to enter this garden in the same manner you do. Yet I know you cannot give up this ability easily. Therefore I shall give you something, something of which the very concept is so forlorn to you that you can not begin to comprehend its full worth. I shall give you release from the toils and tribulations of your existence. From you I shall take the burden known as life and with it your ability to enter your sacred realm. This is not an exchange you can avoid, nor will any protest serve your benefit. I suggest you take it with dignity.

A piercing scream ripped through the labyrinth field and a cry of agony coursed though the garden. Before Galus and Cabaret the cloud of smoke twisted warped about its center. It compressed itself into what appeared to be a dark seed, which then dropped into the ground below. Standing motionless before the seed stood Samuel, hands covered in ash, his body a ghostly pale. His face stared blankly ahead. His eyes appeared dark and hollow. On his forehead, sat an odd symbol. The orb was nowhere to be seen.

---

In the garden, Samuel saw for himself what the forces of Karma had told him. A vibrant world of beautiful colors and endless life. Flowers blossomed all about him. Birds chirped their morning songs and tiny critters skittered to and from their homes. A dark grin spread over Samuel's face as he echoed his earlier declaration. "Hello, you abominable living world. I have arrived to give you the death you so profoundly deserve."

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GBCE · 10-04-2009, 10:44 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Opirian.

Galus jumped backwards ready to strike Samuel if he turned out to be dangerous. "Whats going on with you?" Galus asked, but the karmaist made no reply or even attempt to speak. Galus drew his knife from his right shoulder and flipped it around sp that the blade faced away from his thumb. He brought up his pistol and his knife together, the knife pointing to the side the gun pointing towards his target.

He won't attack, not just yet he's focused on this world, this man was truly dangerous. He knelt down on the ground and faced away from Samuel, "You'd be a better ally than an enemy, but if we go through with this contest than we will have to eventually fight," he said spewing out the obvious. He then turned slightly towards Samuel and asked, "if you can hear me can you give me any hint as to our enemies location?"

GBCE · 10-04-2009, 11:19 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

Diary of Professor Armidillo Reccxer: As I was about to ask that Maxwell Deakin fellow my questions, I felt a tremendous darkness enter the garden. I quickly turned to my friend and said, "there is something I must do, watch over these two and point the laser straight up if they give you any trouble." I quickly Ran over to where I felt the darkness form, suddenly I saw that Samuel Therion fellow standing around, the air around him was stale and dead, the grass surrounding him was brown and bent. suddenly, he saw me I knew I had to react quickly, I soon began to feel a dark energy reach out towards me. I suddenly remembered that strange meteorite I had found in the Congo, And I changed my composition to match that strange rock. Samuel then said, "strange, I can't seem to kill you by changing your karma flow, tell me how you managed such trickery." 'I have changed my composition to that of nutronium, A strange element I found in the many years of travel that I've had. It has the peculiar characteristic of resisting all known forms of energy, and some that are unknown." I said. "Ah, I see you've rendered yourself immune to my attacks, in other words, you've cheated!" "Oh, nothing like that, I've just evened the playing field, I'm not immune, I just resist that's all" I quickly replied. "Then what are you waiting for, an invitation? Strike the first blow, attack, do something!" he said. I chuckled and said, "you would like that, wouldn't you? No, I will not strike. I will wait until you have proven that you are an enemy, not a moment sooner." the two of us stood there, waiting for the other to strike the first blow.

If this one weren't so evil, he could play a great role in my plan...

**btp** · 10-05-2009, 02:27 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

Back in the labyrinth, the pale shell of Samuel stared lifelessly at a pensive Galus. The dark empty eyes expressed no emotion, and the body gently swayed back and forth. Is he even there? Galus wondered. Galus took a few steps forward to further examine the hollow figure when a dark sprout rose up from the ground where the seed-like clod of dust landed earlier. Cabaret held the six inch stiletto heel up defensively, though it shook wildly in his hands.

"Um, Galus I'm not sure we should bother him just now..." Cabaret warned, still shaken from Samuel's highly disconcerting outburst.

Galus ignored the magician's plea; he was one for caution, but not a caution derived from fear. Knife at the ready he further approached Samuel. The sprout quivered and the ground about it began to rumble. Cabaret reached up his sleeve for another weapon and pulled out large snakeskin cowboy boot. "More shoes..." He muttered, frowning.

The rumbling grew and Galus took one final step forward. Up from the ground below Samuel sprung a plethora of dark black tendrils. They wrapped around the motionless form covering it in a shell of thick briers. The sprout as well burst forth from the barren ground. Long pointed thorns covered its now massive stem. Several tendrils shot out at Galus who nimbly jumped back, barely avoiding their serrated grip.

Cabaret looked up at the towering creature and then down at the two pieces of footware in his hands. He bit his lip and muttered to himself, "I'm gonna need a bigger boot."

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

Samuel stared at the odd man standing before him, taunting him. The aftereffects of his Karmic transfer had far exceeded what he had prepared himself for, and he had, for a moment, lost his composure. Samuel inhaled deeply, the foul stench about him faded, and the rotting effect on the flora around him subsided. Unlike his labyrinth bound counterpart, this Samuel retained all of his original features, save for the small mark embedded onto his forehead. Samuel grinned at the professor who stood there, waiting.

"I'm terribly sorry for snapping at you like that. Don't worry. I have no interest in you. That is, as long as you stay out of my way." Samuel turned and began to head toward the center of the garden.

"What an odd duck," mused Reccxer. As Samuel passed by, Reccxer asked, "What exactly is it that you intend to do here?"

Samuel paused for a moment, and turned, grinning, "I'm headed to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. I plan to feed this garden the fruit it longs for, and reap the benefits of it."

The professor tilted his head, not quite understanding. "What the devil does that mean?"

"I means, dear sir, that I intend to kill the Labyrinth Field."

GBCE · 10-05-2009, 03:23 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Alice.

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SleepingOrange · 10-05-2009, 03:26 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

I will tentatively reserve after Bob

GBCE · 10-05-2009, 03:36 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

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GBCE · 10-05-2009, 03:41 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Alice.

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GBCE · 10-05-2009, 04:05 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

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**Schazer** · 10-05-2009, 04:41 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Reserved after orange.

GBCE · 10-05-2009, 05:03 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by yousodumb.

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SleepingOrange · 10-05-2009, 05:55 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.

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Armidillo furrowed his brow and stared after slowly retreating figure.

"What on earth am I supposed to make of that?"

His eyebrows raised when he saw the usually-imposing man stumble and fall, barely catching himself on his elbows before his nose plowed into the dirt. The professor walked slowly towards the prone figure, then sped his step as he saw a number of metallic flashes rise from the grass.

-

Samuel was smirking on the inside as he walked away from Reccxer. Whether or not he admitted it to himself, every man liked being a little dramatic sometimes, and Samuel had given them quite the prelude. If he had his say, this would be a tragedy in one act; swift, snappy, and expertly-choreographed. A tour de force. That was about the time the yo-yo tightened around his ankles and he found the ground rushing up to meet him.

-

Multitasking comes naturally to a being whose body is made up of a number of discrete objects. At the same time as some nasty business involving a yo-yo and a number of small blades was happening, an animated pad of paper was having a calm conversation with a hovering man in a greatcoat.

the suit of armor does not concern me at this moment it has done nothing remotely hostile thus far and seems to have come here under its own power

i am much more interested in you

why are you hovering i have come to expect your kind to be very terrestrial

"Well, I, uh..."

i think that you are not here in the same way i am here

i am uncertain

but this place is unusual

a duality

i do not think where we are is real

and since i am here i question my reality

but first and foremost i question yours

i propose an experiment

Maxwell tried to twist as what looked like an ivory-handled letter-opener hovered to the height of his midriff, but found he wasn't really able to do much. The steel flashed in the light as it rocketed towards Maxwell's gut.

look at it this way

it will probably not be lethal one way or another

-

Stretched thin, the schrotgolem's aim was a slightly off. A cleaver, a flensing knife, a switchblade, a railroad spike, and one half of a brick from the labyrinth wall thudded, one after another, into the ground where Samuel would have been had he not rolled quickly. Several dragged through the soil towards the karmist as a handful of rocks and small ceramic figurines hovered around his head, trying to knock him silly. Samuel kicked, snapping the string around his ankles, but it kept knotting itself together and was joined by a length of bramble and a clay-cutter. He swatted a grinning stoneware donkey away, bruising his forearm but sparing himself a broken nose or worse, and swore. As he struggled to free himself and stand up, he heard the pounding of feet coming closer and someone shouting.

"What are you doing?"

Gestalt was tired of being stymied.

**btp** · 10-05-2009, 06:16 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by bobthepen.

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**Schazer** · 10-05-2009, 06:55 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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On the barren plane, Vyrm'n stood, more alone than usual, ignoring Galus and Cabaret's antics with the demonic plant. Maxwell as a projection had been going surprisingly well to date, that was, until the schrotgolem threw a letter-opener at him. Vyrm'n didn't have time to respond to the projectile and terminate the link with Maxwell before the man got a stomachful of letter-opener.

Maxwell's body in the garden jolted slightly as the blade embedded itself in his stomach, but otherwise his projected form did not change shape or position, other than Maxwell starting to scream with pain, unable to move his hands to pull out the weapon, each stomach-contracting gasp of pain causing him further agony.

Vyrm'n was not oblivious to any of this, as its already shaky perspective of the garden was blotted out by Maxwell's howling. The Faceless nearly panicked and released him from the darkness, but luckily for Maxwell stopped itself in time. Trying its best to make itself heard over the sound of matter in the garden and Maxwell's own screams, Vyrm'n intended with every once of his being that Maxwell COME BACK COME BACK COME BACK COME BACK COME BACK.

Through the haze of pain and singing atoms, Maxwell heard Vyrm'n's chant and trying and failing to ignore the pain, tuned his consciousness back to Vyrm'n's plane with difficulty, his presence in the garden fading until nothing was left. The sense of being disappeared again; immolating Maxwell's perception of a body; though the essence of Maxwell just wanted to curl up in a tiny ball deep inside the Faceless and sleep there despite this inconvenience. Incapable of executing this action, Maxwell sufficed with redefining his being so his new song was agony. The response of Vyrmn's matter was swift and unequivocal.

NO. Maxwell paused his reassessment of himself for a moment, while Vyrm'n figured out how to handle this. The trouble with Maxwell having a Faceless' way of seeing the world was that telepathy was impossible, as it required a non-passive mind with a sense of identity.

It decided the best course of action was to talk to him using logic. Admittedly, this was another trait not renowned in Faceless, but for Maxwell, Vyrm'n was willing to have a go.

Vyrm'n released Maxwell gently, first exposing his face so the man could breathe, before letting gravity do its thing and letting an unresponsive Maxwell slide limply out of the black. As only the last tendril of darkness kept the two in contact, Vyrm'n considered how best to do this. Forming an arm at the ready, the Faceless pulled the last bond away witih a snap; it was a movement designed to cause as little disruption as possible, like pulling the second block out of a layer in a jenga tower and leaving the remainder teetering on the centre block.

Vyrm'n was stiller than usual, arm still at the ready.

Maxwell had been too caught up in his own pain to notice any movement, but he felt the breaking of their connection with an abruptness as the song of matter ceased to soar through his mind. The silence was what unnerved him into opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings. Then a part of him recalled the letter opener in his stomach, and he would have started screaming again if Vyrmn had not anticipated this and threw one arm over his face to blind him, another grabbing the man's arms to stop him reaching for the wound.

Stop. Think. It's what you're good at.

"But... I'm hu-" the arm engulfed his mouth, leaving Maxwell incapable of continuing.

Are you hurt?

Maxwell was about to try and mangle out a barely intelligible reply about how it should be obvious even to a bloodless Faceless that a letter-opener through the stomach would count as a painful injury, and then he realised why it wouldn't be. He stopped struggling; the Faceless released his mouth again so he could talk. Careful, now. You believed you were in the garden; you were. Now tell me, are you hurt?

Maxwell thought this apparently obvious question through carefully, letting Vyrm'n listen to his train of thought. "My... body was trapped inside you, then I saw things your way." Vyrm'n seemed satisfied with this statement, so Maxwell continued, doing best to ignore the stabbing pains. "You can see as far as you like without moving, so I can too." Agreement. "Then I saw somewhere were you weren't... so my body wasn't either. I even conjured up a... image... of myself, to substitute for my lack of body on that plane." Ascent. "So... when the golem hit me, I only believed it did." Vyrm'n seemed to still be waiting for something. "But, it didn't. Its weapons and my body are on different planes."

At this point, Vyrm'n released Maxwell's arms, and removed the blindfold. His first reaction was to check for a wound, then stopped himself. It would be ridiculous to go looking for an injury that had never really been made. Maxwell instead turned, with an effort to fight his instincts, to face the unmoving Faceless. "Thank you for saving me there. And... showing me the way you see the world. I can't comprehend how you can stand that, but I suppose you can get used to it... You truly are a remarkable creature, Vyrm'n. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to rest for a moment, that was quite a lot to take in..."

Vyrm'n shifted its form into one more comfortable for Maxwell to rest upon than the withered grass, content for now as the man relaxed and began muttering to himself again. Its view of the other plane was now blind, so it instead amused itself by watching the proceedings betwen Galus, Cabaret, and the killer plant.