“You remember that you got hit but forgot how to make portals?”
“do you think getting hit on the head again might fix it? i saw something like that in a show once”
is it possible to somehow make the horse our new teammate
I got better idea
“Gabriel we are NOT killing the horse!”
“Relax I thought he gonna be worse, actually seems like pretty nice guy”
Gabriel pulls out bottle of Jack Daniel’s offering it to the horse
can horses even drink alcohol?
“Why are you offering alcohol to the horse, god, thing. Actually better question, where on earth did you get alcohol from?”
“Stole it from Lucky before he shot me, want some too?”
“No thank you, stuff tastes absolutely horrid.”
“Weak generation as always, I have no idea how people cant drink a whole bottle alone”
“i don’t think a student should be drinking”
“Dont make a big deal from it now”
“This conversation is just… honestly, I don’t even know anymore, lets just get back to rehearsal already.”
“There is huge hole in wall that the horse made and we are like on other side of country so…”
Calypso looks a bit panicked now that Gabriel mentioned how far they were from the school now.
“…Crap. My Aunt’s gonna be so pissed with how far away I’ve gone! How the hell am I going to explain all of this to her?!”
“Just say Lucky kidnapped you and wanted money but you somehow broke free and ended up there because of him. I mean we could go back on a horse but some guys almost killed him, by the way arent you able to travel trought ink that you left around?”
“I mean, yeah I can get back via ink, but I’m not going to tell her that I was held for ransom!”
“Any better idea then?”
Somewhere near the school…
“Gah! What the hell am I supposed to do!?!?”
Lucky, still covered in the bloody remains of the other cultists in his car, collapses into the driver’s seat, exhausted from the hours of constant driving.
On one hand, telling the cult that the… Horse? fucking died would fall into his responsibilities.
On the other hand, however, explaining to the big guy that they not only failed to capture the horse-god-thing alive, but instead also let it fucking die would likely not be in his best interests. Especially since he killed the other cultists who were supposed to come with him on the mission. In hindsight, there was no reason to shoot the other cultists and all killing those people did was make getting back home much harder without having the neighbors call the police. Luckily, he remembered to dump the bodies in the middle of nowhere and somehow managed to park the extremely bloodied car inside of his garage without anyone calling the police, though he attributed that to his somewhat whimsical luck.
“…Heads, I call them. Tails I don’t.”
A coin flips through the air, landing on…
Heads.
Sighing, he pulls out his phone. Lucky mutters a curse and begins calling the big guy. Though it seems Lucky’s luck blesses him once more, as the big guy does not pick up his phone.
“…Please leave your message after the tone.”
“Hey, so I’ve got good news and bad news… And worse news and even worse news.”
“Good news, I bought the whisky you wanted! Bad news, I can’t find it. Worse news, everyone in the car I was in died, and some of the convoys suffered crazy amounts of damage from what I was hearing on the talkies. Even worse news? We completely failed the mission. We failed to capture the target, and I’ve been told they killed it.”
“Does this mean I gotta find a new job?”
Hanging up, he slowly steps out of his car.
“Now, how the hell do I clean this?”
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