Matilda was both proud and shocked at the shot. Square in the noggin like the good ol-days. Though she could do without the over dramatics by the boy. Her strength score had been in the gutter and dropping ever more every other year since passing into the third age Bracket. Being elderly sucked, but the bonuses to wisdom were no joke.
After a few moments of reminiscing she felt it was about time for the boy to cut the act or at least retort to her... But he wasn't moving.
"Don't tell me he's another fool who put everything into Intelligence, it doesn't Actually make you any smarter it just raises your attack with spells and makes visualizing easier..."
The poor fool must have been one of the many that got swept up in that stupid theory posted by that hack of a mage Jorvenox. The mans already won the 'best sellers' author award three years in a row for his sensationalized drivel and steered countless of the younger generation off their true class paths.
Everyone thinking that their "totally unique" and "Amazingly complex" random ass assortment of placing Stat points into entirely unrelated skills, perks and even main stats, will some how make them the strongest there's ever been, because they're doing something "New"... It aint broke so why bother fixing it.
And there she goes again on one of her inner monologues. They've been happening a lot more than she'd like as of late. And yet, the boys still out cold.
"Sigh.. Guess I'll at least help the poor fool out of the street. I don't want to deal with a Gorey mess if a carriage or one of those newfangled auto-carts passes through."
After a few un-nerving crackings of her knees she finally managed to drag the man to her gate. He was dressed shockingly well, and she was beginning to fear he was some rich snob moving into one of the fancier places nearby.
"Lets just hope he's not. Best that way than the alternative."
Though the man was incredibly heavy for his build. She was sure she didn't feel any huge muscles under that suit and his long scrawny legs almost made her convinced he'd stated entirely into Dexterity, though that can't be right if he couldn't even dodge a rolling pin hucked by an old fart like her.
"I'm too old for this, lets just hope he forgets it and is just grateful he didn't get run over."
Around an hour later.
Peter woke to a feeling somehow even worse than the travel sickness of whatever you'd call that... Meatball tree dimensional express?
Looking around he found himself laying against the fence post out front that same house from before. The pie was sadly gone now.
No hope for desert for breakfast it seems. What even happened? and damn my head feels like I just came back from a trip to nans after she found out I cheated on midterms...
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"I wonder if she's still making jams and butternut syrup... I should have visited more while I had the chance."
The weight of the situation was starting to creep in on Peter. He was gods knows where, with who knows what done to his body. He wasn't even sure any part of him was left untouched by Montage's crazy... well. montage like marathon of "fixing" whatever it thought was wrong with him.
It was coming back all to fast and thinking about how little time he spent with his nan, gramps and everyone else wasn't helping.
"Mr. Paddington!!!"
Peters eyes dilated as the revelation shook him to his core. Who was going to take care of Mr. Paddington! Who was going to give him belly rubs, who was going to trim his overabundant main! who was going to change his litter!!!!
Warning: Stress levels exceeding estimated predictions. ANALYSING, Please hold! |
Report: Error found in class assignment & registration |
Requesting update: System B_232_753_DOT_CORE Outdated |
Request granted: System B_232_753_DOT_CORE Updating |
Update complete: New designation: Montage_DOT_CORE |
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