fandomhigh | Thurviving Mad Thcientithtth [1.08]

The Danger Shop looked about as far from something as technologically advanced as a danger shop as it was possible to get. As the students walked through the doors they were plunged into night, the only illumination coming from a full and rather red moon, high in the sky. It was more than enough for them to see by.

Which they might later come to regret.

"One of the hallmarkth of the traditional mad thcientitht ith a burning, one might thay obthethive, need for partth. Unlike Igorth, who collect body partth in order to heal people, they are only interethted in building the nathtietht creature they can. The other thing about mad thcientithtth is that they rarely have a lot of money." Igor waved a cheerful hand at the seemingly endless graveyard, and the mausoleums scattered liberally through the grounds, and then pointed at a pile of shovels, picks, and burlap sacks, useful for anyone who'd forgotten their satchel.

"That'th where you come in. What can't be bought mutht be acquired. Head on out and try and find a few bitth and pieceth." There was a long pause, and then he took pity on them; he knew people tended to be squeamish. "None of the partth are human. There'th only bitth of animalth and mythological creatureth out there. Dig them up, break into the mautholeumth, thteal them from each other - the goal ith to get in, get a piece of thomething, cover your trackth and get out again." He grinned toothily. "You'll be uthing thome of thethe pieceth next week."

[ooc: plz wait for We have OCD]

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Ath you do.

Gavin Darkthlighter

Agneth Nitt

Andwoo Welths

Rodney McKay

Cimorene of Linderwall

Bender

Jenny Sparks

Jeff Murdock

Do what you do. Boggling, cursing, fleeing - these are all totally acceptable.

Gavin could almost understand Igor clearly now.

That kind of scared him. He so didn't want to break into a lisp during a combat situation.

Still, clarity was helpful here.

Agnes looked warily at the graveyard. "The bitth and pietheth don't happen to have thoulth lying around guarding them, do they?" she asked. "Thith lookth like a good plathe for ghothtth."

Rodney was thinking about being sick. He felt it would be justified.

Looting and graverobbing. Finally something he could enjoy. Bender wasn't rubbing his hands in glee, but it was a close thing.

There's fresh graves and old, mausoleums, and spooky stairs leading down to spookier crypts.

No human bits, though. Only animal - real and mythological - are represented. They can be as clean and tidy or as not as you want. Find and collect a few bits and pieces, tuck them into the sacks, leave then near Igor, then you can escape!

Gavin set off, walking slowly past old graves as if he might disturb them if he walked too hard or too disruptively.

He found a grave tucked away and in shadows in a corner of the graveyard and he decided to dig there. He used his hands, sifting through the soil delicately and found a few small fragments of bone and...other things he wasn't going to think about. He pocketed them in his sack.

He moved onto another grave, digging out only a small square this time and going straight down to find a few more small things. He refilled the whole and patted it down.

As he headed back, he stopped every so often, never in any sort of pattern to collect other things that he found near the surface of the soil and dropped them in his sack.

He finally set his sack down next to Igor before he escaped.

Andrew was totally okay with this assignment. Bits and pieces didn't bother him at all, though he could do without the smell.

He quickly filled his sack.

Rodney was really glad that he had gloves in his bag as he opened the door of a mausoleum. While chanting "just get it over with" under his breath the entire time, he pushed the lid off a tomb. With his eyes tightly closed and his face turned away, Rodney reached inside and grabbed something solid. Still without looking, he dropped whatever he picked up in his sack before moving on to the next tomb. He repeated this at each tomb in the mausoleum before fleeing back outside and leaving the sack of mystery parts by Igor. He didn't stick around to chat.

Cimorene set to the task with her usual efficiency and ignored the ick factor of the task.

Mud. Mud. Fossiled egg. More mud. Bender was noticing a theme as he trawled through some of the more recent graves. A few bones, several squelches and hardly anything valuable later he decided to abandon the graves. Only poor people or not-people got stuck in a hole in the ground.

Bender set about looking for the mausoleum with the sturdiest door, and levered away until he could fit an arm through, stretching deeper in. Getting the goods was more difficult; the scales and bones fitted through easily, the jar - "Thtupid door can bite my ath," needed extra work.

Eventually the jar of squishy organs that had used to be on something's insides joined the rest of Bender's collection, and he sat down to count his loot. "What kinda thing hath thix tailth?"

Instead of a girl, it was a bolt of lightning who entered one of the mausoleums. Less messing with the door that way. Then the bolt of lightning became a girl, grumbling and pulling on her gloves. "Gross gross gross." She tossed what looked like a lion's paw, a batwing, and a spiral-shaped horn into her sack and lightning-ed on out of there to deliver the goods to Igor.

Although something inside Agnes turned up her nose at the task and absolutely refused to go grave robbing, the more practical side of her was in control.

She was also aware of two very important things, viz:
1) This was important. The pieces she gathered would be used in class next week.
2) It was only an illusion, anyway. The smell and the ick weren't really real, and she wasn't really desecrating graves or anything like that.

With that in mind, Agnes set about methodically looking for the freshest graves, and picked up bits with as little decay and as much meat on the bone as possible. She made absolutely sure to have a decent brain, heart, lungs, and eyes before even bothering to look at more exotic things like legs, tails, wings, horns...

In the end, it was a very heavy sack she brought back to Igor. It might be a truism that the entire economies of some countries were built on the lifting power of little old ladies in black dresses, but Agnes was neither little nor old, and she struggled to drag her bag of spoils through the muck.

Unless he's fled, in which case you'll simply be talking to yourself.

Gavin has not fled. He is, in fact, there if needed.

He's really rather pleased with all this, and his grin might be a wee bit disturbing, especially if anyone realises he's putting the finishing touches on next week's class.

Mod what you like within the parameters set!

Thurviving Mad Thcientithtth [1.08]

Thign In [1.08]

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While Igor Talkth

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Hunt For Parth

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Talk to the TA

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Talk to Igor

OOC