The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
Magic night. I've been walking again, and cat wouldn't be left behind. It's after sunset, even the afterglow has faded. A few stars are beginning to show, but there's a fog gathering.
I look around for cat and see him touching noses with a white wolf who stands foursquare over a sword in the grass. The blade gleams in the scant starlight.
I can hear chanting in the distance: ita, ita, ita
Pouring myself a big glass, I go upstairs to contemplate the closet. More chanting wafts in.
Something cold against my foot startles me awake. I stare for a few seconds at the sword, lightly covered in condensed mist. Something's ... the wolf has gone, so I suppose I should get up.
I can feel the cold of the metal even through the leather wraps as I put the sword back in the sheath.
I don't know how long I've been asleep, and that contributes to my bleariness.
As does ...
What the hell? Someone's calling me?
Hey, quick reminder: what's the addy of the site with the map of Sang Sacre?
Good catch, billytea, I'll put it in the thread description.
Hans walks into the lab. His clothes are still wet from the thunderstorm that is always outside Castle Gudanov. "I put all those things in place boss. Quite a fog out there."
"Ahhhh. Not just a fog, Hans. A breakthrough in projection technology. The fog merely provides a substrate for the projectors you deployed. I have constructed a city-sized halographic theatre out there. I think it's time for a little demo." I press the big red button to active the array of halographic projectors.
Hans scratches his head. "So what does it play?"
"Good question. Needless to say nobody supports my format yet. So I had the Castle mainframe to take recordings of the most watched TV shows in the city and perform the calcuations to interpolate the 2-D images to interactive 3-D."
As if on cue, Inga steps into the lab having overhead the very last part of the conversation. "Interactive?"
"Yes, not only will the computer play back random scenes from the shows, but it will play them back so the characters interact with the viewer. It's not as sophisticated as it sounds, it just plays it back so the viewer is substitued for a character that was in the scene. No new content or anything like that."
I'm feeling giddy and un-like myself. A little kissing, a little hugging, a little grab-ass, and I join the crowd chanting.
i-ta! i-ta! i-ta!
"Clovis, if you don't hold still, how am I supposed to adjust your bow tie?"
"i-ta! i-ta! i-ta!"
Leaving my excitable Devilbunny to his bouncing around the store, I take last look in the mirror. The top hat is securely pinned in place, the black velvet and white satin striped skirt is full and swooshy enough to possibly knock over people as I walk by them, and the lace ruffles from the white poet's blouse are cascading just so over the top of the black and white striped corset.
"Honey? Do you think I should put on more glitter?" I call.
Pete walks out, buttoning the last button on the jacket of his black silk suit.
"No. In fact, I think you're wearing enough glitter for the whole town. How many packages of rhinestones did you affix to your face?"
"Just two. Help me put on my batty wings."
"wings wings wings wings! me too!"
"Clovis, remember what happened the last time you wore wings. If Hector hadn't helped get you out of that tree ..."
I pick up my Devilbunny. Pete extends his arm. We stroll out of Goblin Market, and off to the town center.
We're getting closer to Town Hall. The fog seems to be getting thicker. I catch a flash of red out of the corner of my eye and whirl around.
"Was that a Mountie?"
"What the hell?!? Is that a group of priests in a lingere store?"
"Boss, you ain't gonna believe this."
Uh oh. "Something interesting?" I ask hesitantly.
"I think I just saw the penguin being chased down the street by Ruthie Camden."
"Oh. You know that's unpossible, right?"
"Well for sure it was the bird, and the girl looked a helluva lot like Ruthie Camden..."
I step outside and peer out into the fog. No bird, no Ruthie. As I turn to go back in, a figure catches my eye. It's a woman with gray skin, and white hair. Her movements have a birdlike quality that seems familiar somehow. Nah, it can't possibly be her.