Saving Private Jester - Printable Version

The stone continued to resonate, though nothing more... for now. It was awakening--that much was for certain.

But it seemed it needed some final catalyst. Something familiar, perhaps..?

Maybe once Fleas did pass out, and the collar hit the stone..? Unless it occurred to her, first, to take it off and place it down.

Inside the chrysalis, there came a sound faintly like a snore.

Anyone within the tunnel would've heard the vigorous, dog like shaking. The jingle of the chain. She was still going. She had been, for the past three minutes. She paused to breathe, stumbling as the room swayed around her. "H...hold on, jester." It was taking a lot to wake this stone. But it was working. The stone was glowing. The exertion left her panting hard enough to begin drooling. But pride was warm in her chest. Fleas coughed, swaying.

"You're.... you're taking your time waking up, huh? I haven't given up though... I'll shake this collar hard as I gotta." She took in a deep breath. Alright. She began to shake herself out again. She kept it up for an impressive four more minutes before the dizziness got to her. She stumbled to a drunken stop.

Fleas swayed on her feet. The world swam. Her paws were grappling with a floor that felt like it'd become liquid. She couldn't fall over. She still had to free the jester. These were Fleas' last thoughts as she hit the floor. She landed on the chrysalis with a thunk, passing out as soon as her skull hit the crystal. Her snores joined the jester's not soon after. She wouldn't be awake to see her handiwork, but she had managed to fail forward enough to make it happen.

"When I speak"
When I think

The jackal wore herself into unconsciousness--and when the black slid back from her eyes and she awoke, it would be to a soft and repeated push at her neck, and a softly worried hum.

"...Ummmm." (Push, nudge, push.) And once she was awake: "Are you awake? Are you--okay?"

The scent of the chrysalis filled her nose. Before her, on the shattered remains of his ruby gemstone, crouched the Jester: now without his clothing, sure, but it was fine. He was decent. He had fur, after all... in fact, he looked very distinctly like the Carnival imps, if Fleas had met one.

One dark-furred hand came up to scratch his foxlike muzzle, and green eyes probed her--then fell to the collar at her neck. "That's... mine? Or-..." (He hesitated, glancing to her.) "It used to be." He rocked back in his crouch, a bit, elbows resting on his knees, and looked around. "So-... how long have I been out? -Did Master Nemean send you? Am I still fired?"

The glance he flashed her way was worried.

Fleas has discovered The Jester.