imaginarymods | NPC Inbox.

[The wand has nothing to contribute.]

[Then again, the wand has never been much of a conversationalist. What it communicates is words, not feelings. So it sits in Wash’s hand, communicating nothing.]

[The umbrella, on the other hand, is exuding a faint aura of good humor. Or maybe that’s Wash’s imagination? It might not mean anything. Might just be the effect of its association with a teammate. Regardless, he’s not going to get anywhere just staring at it.]

[Well, this is going exactly nowhere.]

[Wash pockets the wand, turning his gaze to the umbrella. There's something to it - something he can't quite put his finger on, but it's not unfamiliar. It's a bit like always knowing which gun had Freckles in it, even when he was silent.]

[(Admittedly, that gun never left Caboose's hands and had a confetti trigger, but still.)]

[It's worth investigating, but he still hasn't ruled out the idea that there might be someone invisible here, messing with him. Stranger things have happened, especially in Faerun. After a moment, he reaches out to Athena and asks her to watch the perimeter, only to receive some sass in return that she already is, but okay, she'll watch it extra hard, just for him. It's not perfect, but it'll be good enough for now. Hopefully.]

[He sighs and turns his full attention to the umbrella.]

How did you even get here?

[Because questioning inanimate objects has worked well so far, right?]

[He'll wait for an answer, but if he doesn't get one, it's time to use mage hand to pick up the umbrella and see what happens.]

[Whatever that sense of amusement was, it's easily doubled now. This guy sure is a crankypants, huh?]

[The umbrella doesn't do anything for a long moment in response to Wash's question. Then it . . . falls over? The tip pointing at Wash. And a tiny bit of smoke comes out.]

[When it hits the sand, it combusts with a very quiet oomph to create a very small. Pair of legs? Made of fire? Yeah, that's what it seems to be. They walk jauntily across the sand for a few steps before disappearing into a pile of ash.]

[To Wash's credit, he doesn't startle when the umbrella falls over, seemingly of its own volition. He doesn't startle when it smokes. All he can manage for the fire legs is a blank stare.]

[What in the actual fuck is going on here.]

[...is it trying to communicate?]

You...walked here?

[Wait. Hang on.]

Smoke once for "yes" and twice for "no." [A beat.] And three times for "it's complicated."

[Oh, this is easy. A quick succession of smoke balls emerge from the umbrella, one-two-three. They don’t quite drift away on the wind; instead, each forms the very vague impression of a child’s drawing of a bird, Vs spread across the sky, before dissipating.]

['It's complicated.' Of course it's complicated. He watches the smoke become birds, of a sort, and drift off. I saw eight birds, says a hazy memory, and he puts a pin in that for now. That comes later, when he has time to think.]

[If he has time to think. God only knows what this place will throw at him next.]

You...flew here. [Kind of. Maybe.] Are you...alive?

[The umbrella judders, rolling sideways on the sand, then the other way again. Jostling sand around. It's — yeah, it's laughing? This is hysterical, apparently.]

[Three puffs.]

[...why is this his life. Ask a simple question, get laughed at by a potentially-animate-it's-complicated object. He lets it roll around for a bit and heaves a long-suffering sigh.]

Are you done?

[It spins in a 360 degree circle before settling. Innocently.]

[Yes, it seems that it is done. For now.]

[He gives it another few seconds. Sure, umbrella. He believes you're done.]

What do you want? [Wait, that's not a yes or no question. Dammit.] Can you show me what you want?

[This engenders more hesitation than any previous question has. It almost seems like the answer might be no, but then there seems to be a spark of inspiration. One smoke for yes, and then it . . . dives towards Wash’s bag, shoving at it with its pointy end, trying to knock it over.]

[Okay, that's an answer Wash can work with. He opens his bag and upends it, dumping the contents onto the beach. It's going to be a bitch to get the sand off of everything later, but hopefully it'll be worth it for information now.]

[It doesn't take long for the umbrella to find what it's looking for. Buzzing through the upended contents, it quickly pokes the Octopod Tunic out of the mass and onto a bare patch of sand, then turns to Wash expectantly.]

[...welp.]

We're going swimming, huh.

[More poking.]

[Poke poke poke. Looks that way, doesn't it.]

Okay, okay, give me a minute.

[Off goes the shirt, on goes the tunic, and he takes that minute to shove everything else back in his bag, fasten it, and hide it as best he can before picking up the umbrella by the handle.]

Lead the way.

[...provided it can, but at this point Wash is just rolling with it.]

[Umbrellas are capable of an astonishing number of things, as Wash is learning today. It loops its hook around his wrist and tugs gently at it until it's followed, and it leads him to . . .]

[Miso Fou's lake. It doesn't want him to go to the cafe, though. Instead it unhooks itself and falls with a slap into the saltwater lake itself, then spins around expectantly.]

[It's not a terribly long walk to the cafe, where there are definitely people and they are definitely watching. Wash wasn't exactly looking forward to being an octopus in public, but...well, the umbrella insists. He steps into the water, slips under the surface, and suddenly Wash isn't there anymore and an octopus is in his place. He waves a tentacle at the umbrella - you lead, he'll follow.]

[It leads.]

[As a matter of fact, it's shockingly fast underwater. Some combination of propulsion and what is clearly magic, gusts of air and water churning around it and propelling it forward. If Wash isn't careful, he could easily fall behind.]

[There's a tunnel under the lake. It looks unfamiliar as the umbrella leads Wash into it, and then all of a sudden it doesn't look so unfamiliar at all. Flora with a faint glow decorate the walls of the widening tunnel. Soon enough, they're joined by bioluminescent coral. A jellyfish floats by, then another, and more.]

[This is the Cavern of Memories. Call it a back door. Down here, everything is connected.]

[Once propelled into the greatest chamber, the umbrella stops the constant churning of water and lets itself float, spinning slowly in the current left behind. Only once its momentum has slowed does it begin to move on its own initiative again, drifting from one jellyfish to another and hovering in front of each, then bopping them lightly on the bells with its tip.]

[This doesn't seem to work very well at first. Memories pop up, but none of them are the one the umbrella wants, and certainly none are of anyone Wash knows.]

[But then something starts to go right. Either the jellies are beginning to understand what they're dealing with here, or the umbrella has simply hassled enough that statistically one was bound to get somewhere helpful eventually, but regardless: a bell shifts to a new scene and the umbrella pulls back to watch.]

[This is the interior of . . . something. A structure, metal, a room maybe, but in terrible disrepair. A giant piece of metal has been slapped over a massive hole. Other repairs have been made with equally slapdash methods. Scattered around the room are people, most of which are still unconscious, crumpled with their backs to the viewer.]

[The focus is on two women. One, an elf woman, barely sitting up but struggling towards consciousness tooth and nail. The other is Lucretia, sliding down the wall to collapse on the floor. She looks much younger. She looks exhausted. Her head is in her hands. The elf woman begins to move towards her, slowly and painstakingly, as Lucretia speaks.]

[There's no sound, and she says a lot of things. But the first two sentences are spoken slowly and are the same thing twice over. It's almost certain Wash can read her lips, under these circumstances.]

[I made it.]

[The fuck-]

[If Wash had half a second to think, he'd be grateful that he'd already had experience being an octopus and knew how to swim in this body; as it is, it's all he can do to keep up with this stupidly fucking fast umbrella.]

[Wash doesn't come to a stop until it does, and he takes a few moments to just float. He'd be bitching about the pace if he could talk; as it is, he just waits and watches, following along behind the umbrella until it finds what it's looking for, keeping an eye out for his jellyfriend all the while.]

[It's when the umbrella pulls back to watch a scene that Wash pays full attention to it. After a few seconds of watching, it hits him - he's seen this before. It's hazy, something after Candlenights, and it definitely doesn't belong to him, but...he remembers this.]

[There's a bit missing, though - an answer that, as far as he knows, none of them ever really got. He points a tentacle insistently at the elf woman. Who is that?]

[Hm. The umbrella doesn't respond to this right away, floating gently on the current and allowing itself to be pulled slightly away from this first jellyfish. The question, it seems, is a difficult one to answer through such roundabout methods.]

[After a few long moments of ponderous drifting, the umbrella does a half-turn and pokes cautiously at a smaller jellyfish. A figure appears in its bell, from the back only, but it's clear it's the same elf. She's wearing a long red cloak; she has a red umbrella hooked over her wrist. She lifts it and idly shoots a fireball from its tip into the air. The fireball coalesces into the shape of a dick, then smokes into nothing. Soundless, she laughs.]

[Another jellyfish gets poked. The same elf appears, body crumpled in its red robes on the sandy surface of some unknown desert under a purple sky. She dies in the memory. From her body, a spectral form emerges, wrapped in a red robe, skeletal and intangible.]

[A third jellyfish. The undead elf looks down on an elf man who is almost a carbon copy of her in her living form. He looks frightened. She repeats the maneuver with the fireball dick, and he looks a little less frightened.]

[The umbrella turns to Wash again, drifting back and forth uncertainly.]

[Wash follows, and waits, and watches, because what else is he going to do? These aren't exactly easy questions to answer when you're limited to jellyfish pantomime.]

[But the elf woman has a red umbrella - the same umbrella? - and that catches his eye. She's in a red robe - the red robes are from that hazy memory - even dead (undead?), she's still in a red robe - Hayner had mentioned meeting a red robed person in Lyrabar - and a copy of her? A relative? Someone-]

[It's a lot of information, and...well, jellyfish pantomime isn't terribly effective. After a few moments, Wash points to the first jellyfish - that umbrella - and then points at the umbrella. Is that you - that same umbrella? Are you connected to her?]

[This she can do. Yes or no, she can absolutely do. One puff for yes, although it comes out in a stream of bubbles.]

[That's one question answered, at least. It's the same umbrella, possibly more. He floats for a moment, thinking. He has questions, but pantomime is fucking frustrating, and he can't exactly talk underwater. The umbrella would probably follow him to one of the underwater air caverns, but that doesn't mean he could get a jellyfish to-]

[Wait. Wait.]

[He holds up a tentacle - wait here - and swims off deeper into the caverns, towards the larger groups of jellyfish. Jellyfriend has to be around here somewhere - Wash just has to find them.]

[The umbrella doesn't like being told what to do, if the long rush of hot air in Wash's direction is anything to go by — but it does stay, spinning in irritated circles.]

[Jellyfriend is much more obliging. As soon as the familiar silhouette of the octopus swims into the main chamber, there's movement off to the side, and then it comes bopping up towards him. What's up! Hey! It flashes a wave on its bell.]

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