As the helltrolley approaches, Crowley has the presence of mind to use his minor miracle on his restraints. With the help of his and Aziraphale’s Wonderland dice and their +4, a 19 has Crowley escaping not only successfully but with no injuries whatsoever. Aziraphale also successfully casts Sanctuary on the train, slowing it down fractionally.
On Eleanor’s end, her soccer-mom-asking-to-speak-to-a-manager Vicious Mockery made us laugh, so with a +1 for that and Michael’s assistance, she succeeds with an 18! Despite the negativity that spews from Eleanor along with her haranguing, that success stops the train—
Well. Not exactly. The train does stop, but it’s not Eleanor who stopped it. No, it’s Adrian, the Manager himself, who appears in form if not in presence, a very convincing illusion hovering in front of the trolley as it lurches to a stop. It’s only due to Eleanor’s extremely successful Mockery that his form is flickering so clearly, but it’s obvious to those on the train: Adrian is the magical equivalent of a hologram. Nothing more.
Is that what he’s been this whole time?
He looks at those in the trolley, gaze cold as he considers them one by one, before drifting over to hover in front of Eleanor.
“You don’t want to play? All you had to do was say so.” He clicks his tongue, flickering in midair. “I hate to see anyone in Wonderland so dissatisfied. And you know what they say: the customer is always right. I really must be a terrible manager. Time to reassess my life, choices, and outlook on the world.”
He snaps his fingers, and the rest of the party — Battler, Crowley, Aziraphale, Michael, and Mia — along with 7 dead elves and 3 alive but unconscious elves, are dumped in a pile at the entrance to Wonderland. When they open their eyes, the dice price has been paid.
Crowley has, on a very nuts-and-bolts level, a sudden and unpredictable case of nerve damage. On a practical level, he will at random intervals throughout the rest of his tenure in Wonderland feel as though his body, in part or in whole, is on fire. Aziraphale, meanwhile, has begun to remember something that never happened — Falling. For the rest of this mission, he will be unshakably certain that he is no longer an angel.
And Michael? Veteran torturer Michael? Well, unfortunately, he’s suddenly very, very easily squicked by gore. Blood, guts, gaping wounds, weird eyeball stuff? He can’t take it. He’s that person in the theater at a slasher movie who keeps whimpering and covering their eyes, to the point that you wonder why they even came.
Which is bad timing. Because back in the guts of Wonderland, the Manager has just let loose his hold on the trolley, sending it barreling forward at its only remaining target: Eleanor.
Michael and the rest have only a moment or two to collect themselves before her mangled body drops on them from above. Pinned to her shirt is a note, in handwriting eerily reminiscent of Chidi Anagonye’s: A+, Excellent Application of Principles.
no subject
As the helltrolley approaches, Crowley has the presence of mind to use his minor miracle on his restraints. With the help of his and Aziraphale’s Wonderland dice and their +4, a 19 has Crowley escaping not only successfully but with no injuries whatsoever. Aziraphale also successfully casts Sanctuary on the train, slowing it down fractionally.
On Eleanor’s end, her soccer-mom-asking-to-speak-to-a-manager Vicious Mockery made us laugh, so with a +1 for that and Michael’s assistance, she succeeds with an 18! Despite the negativity that spews from Eleanor along with her haranguing, that success stops the train—
Well. Not exactly. The train does stop, but it’s not Eleanor who stopped it. No, it’s Adrian, the Manager himself, who appears in form if not in presence, a very convincing illusion hovering in front of the trolley as it lurches to a stop. It’s only due to Eleanor’s extremely successful Mockery that his form is flickering so clearly, but it’s obvious to those on the train: Adrian is the magical equivalent of a hologram. Nothing more.
Is that what he’s been this whole time?
He looks at those in the trolley, gaze cold as he considers them one by one, before drifting over to hover in front of Eleanor.
“You don’t want to play? All you had to do was say so.” He clicks his tongue, flickering in midair. “I hate to see anyone in Wonderland so dissatisfied. And you know what they say: the customer is always right. I really must be a terrible manager. Time to reassess my life, choices, and outlook on the world.”
He snaps his fingers, and the rest of the party — Battler, Crowley, Aziraphale, Michael, and Mia — along with 7 dead elves and 3 alive but unconscious elves, are dumped in a pile at the entrance to Wonderland. When they open their eyes, the dice price has been paid.
Crowley has, on a very nuts-and-bolts level, a sudden and unpredictable case of nerve damage. On a practical level, he will at random intervals throughout the rest of his tenure in Wonderland feel as though his body, in part or in whole, is on fire. Aziraphale, meanwhile, has begun to remember something that never happened — Falling. For the rest of this mission, he will be unshakably certain that he is no longer an angel.
And Michael? Veteran torturer Michael? Well, unfortunately, he’s suddenly very, very easily squicked by gore. Blood, guts, gaping wounds, weird eyeball stuff? He can’t take it. He’s that person in the theater at a slasher movie who keeps whimpering and covering their eyes, to the point that you wonder why they even came.
Which is bad timing. Because back in the guts of Wonderland, the Manager has just let loose his hold on the trolley, sending it barreling forward at its only remaining target: Eleanor.
Michael and the rest have only a moment or two to collect themselves before her mangled body drops on them from above. Pinned to her shirt is a note, in handwriting eerily reminiscent of Chidi Anagonye’s: A+, Excellent Application of Principles.