its_rose_damnit

[Well, after Anise had returned - she herself fine but her doll in tatters - it was up to Dist to fix the little beast. And though he willingly agreed to it, he couldn't keep his mouth shut from complaining about something pertaining to the task.

So, he's in the shops, piling a box with rolls of paper for the blueprints, various tools - a small screwdriver, tweezers, etc. - and any kind of strong and flexible metal he can find. Oh, and a small worker's knife, a ruler, and tons of pencils. Dist doesn't joke around with his work. His journal was laid open beside said box, just in case.

Sighing, the old man moves towards his journal, at a loss.]

Honestly, this place can't even gift me with good supplies? Mm, though I'm not surprised of such a little, stinking hovel... Even the metal here is insufficient! And how am I going to cut it without--[Dist groans, and admits defeat. Picking up his journal, he sneers at it, as if the thing itself offended him recently.] ...Anyone highly skilled in mechanical engineering I, the genius fontechnician, Dist the Rose, am requesting your...assistance.

If any of you happen to have, or know where I can acquire, good, sturdy metals as well as flexible ones, I need them for a project I am working on. I need the materials sooner rather than later, of course. Though I don't expect many of you to actually have any technological knowledge, like myself, I thought it wise to ask. Maybe one of you can--

[Dist drops his journal suddenly, and the sound of quick footsteps is caught by the journal as well as his shocked voice.] Barrelow! How in the world did you... You're a wreck, what happened?! My poor fonbot...




[OOC: Forward dated to around 8am, since I doubt Dist would be walking the streets and shopping at two in the morning. Also, will tag back when I wake up. Sorry guys, my writing bug seems to come at the worst possible times.]

[One of the newest arrivals finds himself laying face first on the cool forest floor, groaning. His body ached all over, but Dist was sure that came with being shot at by a monstrous replica. One that he himself had unleashed. Ugh, what an idiot he was, to let himself grow so desperate and crazed and release that thing, only to have it kill him in the end. That had broke much more than just a few ribs. ...Well, at least it's not raining.

The white haired man musters up all the strength he has remaining and pushes himself up into a kneeling position. He removes his broken glasses and 'tsks' at them. Useless... The glass was broken. Damn that...that impostor! Dist winces and massages his chest. Most of the pain was fading there, but, oddly, his back hurt the most.

Before inspecting why - he just tacked it on to being dead - he cranes his head up and looks around at the trees around him, scowling.]

Tsk, this isn't exactly what I had envisioned of Hell. Fire and brimstone and all that... Agh, damn this pai--[Dist hisses and recoils his hand quickly as it passes over his shoulder and brushed up against his wings. His eyes widen and a bitter smirk spreads on his lips as he looks over his shoulder and spies his wings.] Well, now. This certainly is a surprise. Someone's idea of a joke, perhaps, if even Hell won't take me.