Save Scumming Interlude - Mister Couchtop

Interlude - Mister Couchtop

He sat upon his cushiony throne and observed as his servant paced.

She had changed recently. For one, she was leaving the house for extended periods, which was unacceptable and rude. He did not like this. For another, her scent had changed, more stress, more... heat, more nervousness.

He was willing to allow his servant so leeway and reassurance, to make it through these troubled tis. Just the night prior he had allowed her four strokes of his most majestic of tummies.

Mister Couchtop jumped as the servant suddenly began to caterwaul in her strange servant tongue.

"I think I get it. But it's so... urgh. It's too simple and too complicated at the sa ti. That can't be it."

None of these words were the ones he'd deigned to learn, such as his majestic na, or 'food.'

"Okay, okay... back to the basics then." She continued to pace, now with her arms waving as she made her noises. "Magic depends on emotions, but it's more complicated than that. So so emotions empower spells to do elental stuff."

He followed her gesturing hands, like little birds in flight.

"If you're really angry, if you're enraged, and you have the right kind of core and magic, you can spit fire. It's fireballs and firebolts and fla walls. Big, flashy spells. Lots of heat and flas. I've seen that shit in vids my whole life. But like, there's anger too. That's not rage. It's not as... it's not as primal, right?"

Ah, that last was directed to him. Perhaps she enquired about his hunger? "Myown," he replied.

"So, anger is also fire and heat and all that, but it's more stable, lasts longer. So we call it magma. It's not better or worse, just different, more... solid. Water has Ice as well... and I think there's others that have the sa pattern. Fashy elental, then more solid elental."

She continued to pace, this ti away from the cupboard that held his snacks. He lowered his head.

"Then there's the 'outer elental' stuff. Annoyance. It's got so fire, but not nearly as much. Instead, all the spells are like... self-buffs? Debuffs? They make you hit the thing that annoys you hard and light it on fire. It's less direct, more... there's a word I'm looking for, but I can't find it, Mister Couchtop."

He twisted to the side, rubbing his luxurious fur upon his cushion. Ah, why couldn't the servant put out so fresh clothes in a nice heap? That would be very enjoyable.

"Okay, so what's the next down the chain? Rage is fire. Anger is magma. Then Annoyance feeds... also fire, but it's more about... enchanting effects? No, not that. More like buffs. Buffs work. So, fire-thed buffs. And past that? There's another layer. It's on that stupid chart but it's not labelled. Irritation? Mild discomfort?" She snorted.

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"Right, okay. So, it scales, the emotion being less... not less strong. Maybe less primal? Urgh, that's too edgy. Whatever. Less primal. Less animal. More complex. More complex ans less physical."

She continued to pace. "So what does that an for ? Fucking... Remorse is on the chart, but there's not a single cantrip for it. And there's none for any of the other complex emotions stuck between two emotional branches. Except Love. Because fuck ."

"Urgh! Okay... chill... Remorse isn't bad. Can't complain about bullshit ti powers. Wait!"

She jumped and he sat up a little straighter. Then she ran over to the machine, the one that created a square of light and which was warm to lay upon, with the little clacky keys. Soon she was tapping away at these.

He considered moving over and resting on the space her hands occupied, but she seed very animated, and he didn't want to be servant-handled at the mont.

"Okay! Okay. Remorse is ti as an elent. Only it's entirely non-physical. I don't send my body back, I send mories. Sohow. Right, so... I really need access to a better database. I'm upping that on the priority list. Not that it'll do anything until I figure out at least a couple of cantrips."

She rubbed at her face, then idly tip-tapped on the computer. "Oh."

"Oh, co on. Why didn't I see this the first ti?" Leaning forwards, she squinted into the light. "'A magic-user will find that spells within their emotional and elental range will be easiest to cast. Spells one degree of separation away will have a corresponding drop in efficiency of between twenty and eighty percent.' Crap."

"Okay, wait... I'm Remorse. If I do top-end Grief of Loathing magic, that ans that I might have access to like, Boredom and Pensiveness as emotions to empower... basically self-buffs and debuffs. Damn, I'm never going to be able to fling fireballs around. That's... four degrees of separation away from . So... what, is it four tis twenty percent? Probably more like eighty since I suck at this."

She leaned back in her seat with a groan.

Mister Couchtop, being a good owner to his servant, rose with great effort and gracefully leapt down onto the ground then up onto his servant's lap.

There. All the distress was gone. There was no need for such sighing when she could rub his smooth fur instead.

"This is going to take forever, Mister Couchtop. If I want to hide my core's type or whatever, then I need to suffer through two schools of magic at the sa ti. It's a good thing I have magical bullshit to help, hmm?"

He purred as the servant spoke his na. Goodness, how helpful he was.

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