“Shut up and brace yourself!” is the best reply Jakob can make given their rapid descent into the Earth’s atmosphere. For a first-time space traveler he sure is getting the full brunt of the experience, even going so far as to create a new constellation of cutlery for Henir’s followers to come.
The Ladlevatein, unfortunately, begins disintegrating as they enter the Heavens and crash-land atop some temple—hopefully not belonging to a god they actually care about, Jakob hopes—and the lights cut out.
All he can feel is the sweaty, constricting feeling of Add nearly bending his multiple selves sideways. With the mech shut down, its audio functions are likely disabled, preventing them—mercifully—from having to listen to the rain of ruined spoons from the outside.
Indeed, all of the Far and even the Near Shore is experiencing a meteor shower of sorts, as molten former-spoons pulled in by the Earth’s gravity find themselves careening to the planet’s surface like the heated barrage of a million space guns. And thus the infamy of Henir continues to grow, with the nascent legend of the great Ladlevatein and the apocalyptic Ragnaspork which must follow in their wake. Never again will the denizens of the Near Shore look upon their dinner sets the same way again, and all who revere Henir must now observe the holy trinity of spoon, fork, and knife.
And somewhere within a secluded area of the Near Shore, an artist is hard at work painting one among many of his madness-induced eye-portal paintings, which are now weeping rains of fire that, upon closer inspection, appear to be painstakingly drawn spoons.
At the Far Shore, however, things aren’t proceeding as pleasantly.
“We’ve made it safely home, haven’t we?” At least, he thinks so. It’s hard to be sure when his vision’s cut off and they’re upside-down, but Jakob doesn’t let that get him down. After all, he’s already considering the immediate consequences of their actions, and he’s torn between breaking them out of the cockpit or keeping Add inside and out of trouble while he deals with some very angry gods.
…Then again, Add being in the cockpit in the first place is what started this whole mess to begin with. Right then and there Jakob has to make an executive decision:
“Ugh, I can already tell that we’ve left quite a mess out there. At least change me back so I can see the extent of the damages.”
For all the puns you’ve been dishing out I guess I can cutlery you some slack
The Ladlevatein, unfortunately, begins disintegrating as they enter the Heavens and crash-land atop some temple—hopefully not belonging to a god they actually care about, Jakob hopes—and the lights cut out.
All he can feel is the sweaty, constricting feeling of Add nearly bending his multiple selves sideways. With the mech shut down, its audio functions are likely disabled, preventing them—mercifully—from having to listen to the rain of ruined spoons from the outside.
Indeed, all of the Far and even the Near Shore is experiencing a meteor shower of sorts, as molten former-spoons pulled in by the Earth’s gravity find themselves careening to the planet’s surface like the heated barrage of a million space guns. And thus the infamy of Henir continues to grow, with the nascent legend of the great Ladlevatein and the apocalyptic Ragnaspork which must follow in their wake. Never again will the denizens of the Near Shore look upon their dinner sets the same way again, and all who revere Henir must now observe the holy trinity of spoon, fork, and knife.
And somewhere within a secluded area of the Near Shore, an artist is hard at work painting one among many of his madness-induced eye-portal paintings, which are now weeping rains of fire that, upon closer inspection, appear to be painstakingly drawn spoons.
At the Far Shore, however, things aren’t proceeding as pleasantly.
“We’ve made it safely home, haven’t we?” At least, he thinks so. It’s hard to be sure when his vision’s cut off and they’re upside-down, but Jakob doesn’t let that get him down. After all, he’s already considering the immediate consequences of their actions, and he’s torn between breaking them out of the cockpit or keeping Add inside and out of trouble while he deals with some very angry gods.
…Then again, Add being in the cockpit in the first place is what started this whole mess to begin with. Right then and there Jakob has to make an executive decision:
“Ugh, I can already tell that we’ve left quite a mess out there. At least change me back so I can see the extent of the damages.”