"No problem." It hadn't been, and the ring should be good for as many shots as people wanted to take. Sangamon Taylor, magical taxi service. It didn't have much of a ring to it, except for the stupid pun. It also meant an infinite, if hypothetical, source of beer.
As for risk, well, he was still certain there'd be a catch. A 0.001% chance of teleporting straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect industrial-sized food supplies. Increased risk of insanity, cancer, death. Couldn't have caused the amnesia, since that started as soon as the intercom had squawked on-off-on after dinner, unless the effect could time travel. If he woke up with his memories excised again, he could always prove that false by not using the damn thing.
He didn't like relying on systems he couldn't understand. Magic blod stones that broke the laws of physics definitely qualified. So did comic-book planets full of robots, radioactive spiders, wide-scale resurrection. Not to mention the zombies. About the only thing plausible around here was the soldiers and their guns, and testing their reality was a bad idea. There was a time and a place for peaceful protest, and he wasn't Gandhi. Learning the laws of magic like some new science was the best he could do. It still grated.
On the other hand, he'd gone ruins-hacking with Indiana Jones. Fuck that still sounded awesome to say. Even in the privacy of his own skull. Risking death came with the territory, as did dubious metaphysics.
"Wonder how many people have made it down there. Not much intel on the board, but there have to be a bunch, even if they had to go the long way down. Be nice to know what we're jumping into in the future."
no subject
As for risk, well, he was still certain there'd be a catch. A 0.001% chance of teleporting straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect industrial-sized food supplies. Increased risk of insanity, cancer, death. Couldn't have caused the amnesia, since that started as soon as the intercom had squawked on-off-on after dinner, unless the effect could time travel. If he woke up with his memories excised again, he could always prove that false by not using the damn thing.
He didn't like relying on systems he couldn't understand. Magic blod stones that broke the laws of physics definitely qualified. So did comic-book planets full of robots, radioactive spiders, wide-scale resurrection. Not to mention the zombies. About the only thing plausible around here was the soldiers and their guns, and testing their reality was a bad idea. There was a time and a place for peaceful protest, and he wasn't Gandhi. Learning the laws of magic like some new science was the best he could do. It still grated.
On the other hand, he'd gone ruins-hacking with Indiana Jones. Fuck that still sounded awesome to say. Even in the privacy of his own skull. Risking death came with the territory, as did dubious metaphysics.
"Wonder how many people have made it down there. Not much intel on the board, but there have to be a bunch, even if they had to go the long way down. Be nice to know what we're jumping into in the future."