Words of the Constant
Bland.
An empty vessel awaiting decoration or light.
A temporary reprieve from the shadow.
Purely decorative.
I believe it is Wilson's turn to fetch bulbs.
Every lovely flower must one day wilt.
Who's afraid of the dark?
Uninspired.
If only life were that simple.
My my, aren't we special.
What a staggering sight!
Well it's certainly not deer to me.
Even I'm afraid of that guy.
It's best to be rid of it.
Disgusting.
The wretch is being puppeteered!
Keeps it cold like my heart.
Don't say I didn't warn you when it all goes up in flames.
Do I have to do everything around here?
Deerclops are so myopic.
Filthy.
The gem imbues its attacks with a fearsome power.
That's not doing anyone any good.
Function over form.
A rudimentary ward against dampness.
A more robust ward against dampness.
That looks out-of-place.
Mostly just background noise.
I can use this to find my missing parts.
It must be right under my nose!
This is the right direction.
I should keep my eyes peeled.
It's the starting mechanism.
I need to insert the divining rod.
Progress!
The portals lead to the next rod.
So I'm to be a dock builder now, am I?
Do I look like a common laborer to you?
I can only imagine how grotesque this will look...
I'm not the roll-up-your-sleeves type. Ask the handywoman.
Here I am, toiling away for a frivolous diversion.
I'm no middleman.
I'll permit him to stay so long as he keeps cooking.
A fiery fly.
Those scales sure are nifty.
Spacious and stylish.
Such a spiffy design!
How undignified.
The red gems are producing a sweltering heat.
With only one gem it is only moderately scorching.