Bathic
!!Z9LmIhi3uII
(ID: lfZF6n4Y)
9/27/2025, 1:58:19 PM
No.6311460
Not much to do in there. Unless, for example, you forced your evil lackey to explode in there, coating the place in red stuff. Yucky, invasive, murderous, lizard-loving red stuff. Red stuff which doesn't require Crown expertise to use, or absorb into your already-horrible giant evil body, if, for example, you wanted to escape the inevitable and "win." Not that Ramsey would do that, of course. That would be cheating. She'd have to be dying to consider it viable.
"C'mon!" you yelp, and snap your fingers at Gil, who obligingly beetles and trails as you leg it. You are in the red-soaked temple; so is Ramsey, comfortably straddling the altar, her axe blades longer than you are tall. Your sword is right there in the middle of her chest— the cloak is gone. Below the head she's black-scaled and ridiculously muscled. Above the head she's leering. "THOUGHT you'd make it! You just don't know when to give UP, don't you?!"
"I— you're not allowed to say that! I had you— I almost killed you! You're dying! You're the one who doesn't know when to—" You swallow. "I mean, halt, evildoer! Your failure is inevitable! It's not too late to hand over the Crown! And my sword, please."
"HOHOHOHOHOHO! Hand OVER the Crown."
"Yes! And my sword."
"GO FUCK YOURSELF ON A RUSTY NAIL! What would YOU even do with this?!" Ramsey raises a protective hand over her head. "Let me guess. You'd make everything BORING?"
"No! I'd— I'd use it to help everyone who needs help, and I'd fix things, and—"
"BORING!"
You fold your arms. "It's heroic!"
"IT'S BORING! BOOOO!" She cups her hands around her mouth. "Fucking CHEATER can't think of anything fun to do?! Not one single thing?! GIMME A BREAK!"
("Lottie," Gil whispers, "don't you think you should—")
Shh! You're having a heroic conversation! This is in all the books! "I— I don't care about fun! I care about saving the whole entire world! Now fight me, villain, or hand over the—"
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ramsey is leaning down at you. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Get new material! Brand's getting stale! We're done with fighting."
"You're just mad you lost!" you hiss.
"DONE with fighting. Tried that. Guess who fucked it all up? Maybe do a little self-reflection? Boy, you'll be thinking, I wish I fucking FOUGHT good ol' Jean Ramsey. I wish I FOUGHT HER, instead of sneaking around, and dancing around, and pulling all that GULLSHIT. Nope. Done with fighting. ''''Fighting.''''" She makes quotation marks with her fingers. "Crown's off-limits. Say bye to the Crown! Bye, Charlotte Fawkins!"
She's making a squeaky voice for the Crown. You actually probably should do something. (Are you allowed to turn back into a lizard yet?) But she still has The Sword, and— though you refuse to rest— the weariness is starting to kick back in. "Wait! You need my crystal to be God, don't you?!"
(3/4)
"C'mon!" you yelp, and snap your fingers at Gil, who obligingly beetles and trails as you leg it. You are in the red-soaked temple; so is Ramsey, comfortably straddling the altar, her axe blades longer than you are tall. Your sword is right there in the middle of her chest— the cloak is gone. Below the head she's black-scaled and ridiculously muscled. Above the head she's leering. "THOUGHT you'd make it! You just don't know when to give UP, don't you?!"
"I— you're not allowed to say that! I had you— I almost killed you! You're dying! You're the one who doesn't know when to—" You swallow. "I mean, halt, evildoer! Your failure is inevitable! It's not too late to hand over the Crown! And my sword, please."
"HOHOHOHOHOHO! Hand OVER the Crown."
"Yes! And my sword."
"GO FUCK YOURSELF ON A RUSTY NAIL! What would YOU even do with this?!" Ramsey raises a protective hand over her head. "Let me guess. You'd make everything BORING?"
"No! I'd— I'd use it to help everyone who needs help, and I'd fix things, and—"
"BORING!"
You fold your arms. "It's heroic!"
"IT'S BORING! BOOOO!" She cups her hands around her mouth. "Fucking CHEATER can't think of anything fun to do?! Not one single thing?! GIMME A BREAK!"
("Lottie," Gil whispers, "don't you think you should—")
Shh! You're having a heroic conversation! This is in all the books! "I— I don't care about fun! I care about saving the whole entire world! Now fight me, villain, or hand over the—"
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ramsey is leaning down at you. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Get new material! Brand's getting stale! We're done with fighting."
"You're just mad you lost!" you hiss.
"DONE with fighting. Tried that. Guess who fucked it all up? Maybe do a little self-reflection? Boy, you'll be thinking, I wish I fucking FOUGHT good ol' Jean Ramsey. I wish I FOUGHT HER, instead of sneaking around, and dancing around, and pulling all that GULLSHIT. Nope. Done with fighting. ''''Fighting.''''" She makes quotation marks with her fingers. "Crown's off-limits. Say bye to the Crown! Bye, Charlotte Fawkins!"
She's making a squeaky voice for the Crown. You actually probably should do something. (Are you allowed to turn back into a lizard yet?) But she still has The Sword, and— though you refuse to rest— the weariness is starting to kick back in. "Wait! You need my crystal to be God, don't you?!"
(3/4)