The Narrator
Disembodied Voice
- Location
- Somewhere Offscreen
[X] Redshirt Army
Asking Kyubey for help has not been a useful strategy, thus far. Last time we tried--and I supported trying that time--he basically told us to eat shit
We got KB to help us measure some things, like our Grief control range, and it helped us camouflage our Grief better.Have you got a link for this? I don't remember us ever asking Kyubey for anything.
"Hokay. I'll be right here, and as you can see, I'm holding my Soul Gem out. I'd like to know whether my radius of control is centered on my body or my Soul Gem," you say. With a bit of Grief, you grab Kyuubey by the scruff of its neck, lifting it into the air. "Will you help me by making measurements?"
"Certainly," Kyuubey repeats, and with that, you send it rocketing out of sight, dangling from the Grief. It makes for a pleasantly comical sight, the little white alien fluffball simply zipping away as if on an invisible wire.
You halt your Grief right at the very edge of your sphere of influence. "Alright. That's the limit of my range, in the direction of my Soul Gem. I'm going to describe a circle now."
"Proceed," Kyuubey says. You do just that, swinging Kyuubey around in a wide circle. There are a few buildings away, and you guide the Incubator around the buildings - you are trying to get help from it, after all. Does no good to splatter it over the wall right this moment.
You complete the circle, and bring the Incubator back. "Well?"
"Your range is centerd on your Soul Gem," it says. "The deviations from circularity of the path I travelled were not significant on a nanometer scale, allowing for vertical motion."
"Huh," you say. "Right. Good to know. Not unexpected, but good to know. Right. Next test, I'm going to see how finely I can disperse my Grief. That should be good right? Because I might still have my wings or my platform, but at least I don't have that following me around." You gesture at the giant pile of basketball-sized spheres sitting at the corner of the warehouse where you'd stacked them.
"Yes, that would be good," Kyuubey agrees.
You nod, and exhale, focusing on the spheres. All you want to do is to... dissolve it. You don't want Grief gas. You want tiny, tiny nanoparticles of Grief, as small as you can make them, so small they're invisible to the naked eye, so small that you can turn it into an invisible fog spread out over the entire volume of your control radius.
The spheres crumble. Not all of them. You aren't so foolish as to forget about the items you've stored away in there, and especially not right in front of Kyuubey - but you break up everything else, dividing them again and again into finer and finer pieces. Centimeters, then millimeters, then micrometers... nanometers.
You shouldn't be surprised at how you're able to render the pile of Grief spheres into dense, smoky purple fog. And it's dense by definition - you haven't spread it out. You correct that with a wave of your hand, setting it all billowing into invisibility as you set it all flowing away.
And with the dispersal comes awareness in almost impossible fidelity. You'd always been able to sense Grief with absolute precision, and this is no different. But you can feel everything around you with a billion questing fingers, the walls, the roofs, the weeds, the movement of the wind, the cars disturbing your fog of Grief particles, the...
You blush, and pull the Grief away from the human beings you sense within your sphere of awareness - the few workers still in the area.
Well then.
You stand, looking around to see... nothing, really. You don't see anything out of the ordinary, though you can vaguely feel the Grief all round you with 'just' your puella magi senses, a vague sensation you can't pin down. About what you'd expected.
"Well then," you say, cocking a challenging eyebrow at Kyuubey. "How's that?"
"Helpful," Kyuubey states, tail lashing as it stares around it. "Reducing your aerial shadow to just yourself and your conveyance reduces the likelihood of your being sighted to approximately a quarter of its original probability."
"Great," you say, reaching into your pocket for the ribbon Mami had gifted you. "Now, I'm going to do one last test."
Kyuubeys gives you a look clearly meant to be inquisitive, but you don't deign to answer it - this is a test with Mami's powers. And it might be irrational, but you feel somehow possessive of that, whatever the result might be.
With a flick of your wrist, you unfurl the ribbon to its full length, and catch the free end with bits of Grief coalesced instantly out of seemingly thin air. You grin.
You could get used to having a utility fog.
You spend a moment to tie a small rock to the free end of the ribbon, before setting it sailing out and away from you. You don't need a continuous connection from yourself all the way out to extend your range, right? All you'd need, logically, is to have the ribbon extending out of the sphere of your control... which you accomplish with the rock as a counterweight and a quick swing.
There. Now you have the ribbon crossing the border of your zone of control, lying on the roof of what you suspect is a factory. And so all you have to do is to try and channel your magic into it, right?
You exhale, and you push. You visualize your magic flowing down the ribbon, brilliant fire connected by Mami's magic, and carefully, carefully, you slide a tiny marble of Grief along the ribbon until it exits your sphere of control, still intact. Still under control.
"Sabrina?" Mami's voice sounds inside your mind.
You jerk, reacting to the urgency in her tone, and you release the magic instantly. She sounds almost strangled, voice hitched. "Mami? What's wrong?"
"Are- did you do something? Something felt- really weird," Mami says.
Crap.
"Um, I did, I'm sorry, Mami," you say, glaring at Kyuubey. You know it's listening in. "Are you OK?"
"I'm- I'm fine," Mami says. "That just- felt really strange. Intrusive."
"I'm sorry!" you say, fretting at your lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise that would work like that. Are you OK?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Mami says. She does sound like she's recovering from the surprise. "I'm fine, Sabrina, really. It was just- unexpected, and a bit weird. Though... It almost felt like you were here with me."
"I-" you shake your head. "Still, I'm sorry. At least I should have warned you or something before trying that."
"It's alright, Sabrina," Mami says, warm smile evident in her voice. Even with just the sensation transmitted over telepathy, you can't help but relax. "Did the test succeed, whatever it was?"
"It did, actually!" you say. "Um, I'm not disturbing your class, right?"
"No, no, it's a reading period right now," Mami responds.
"Ah, OK," you say. "Um, well, you know how I have that pesky range limit, right? I was thinking I could try maybe channelling my magic through your ribbons."
You can't help the blood rising to your face to stain your cheeks red. You'd intermingled bits of your soul with Mami's for a few seconds there.
"Oh. Oh!" You get the distinct impression of Mami's dawning understanding and ferocious blush, even over the telepathic link - she probably felt yours leaking over, too.
You cough, trying to fight the reddening on your cheeks. To no real avail, either. You do direct a glare at Kyuubey, though, flapping your hands at it in a gesture for it to stop staring. Not that it does you any good - it keeps its unblinking gaze on you.
"S-so, um, yeah," you manage. "Yeah. Um... Are you OK?"
"Ah, yes, I'm fine," Mami says. You can still hear the blush in her mental voice. "I'm- I'm glad it went well."
"Well, uh," you twiddle your fingers. "Uh... if you're alright with it, maybe we could try the experiment again later today? If you don't mind? I'm... hopeful about extending my range, with your help."
"Um- I'd be happy too!" Mami says, and you can feel the radiant smile from all the way over here.
"Alright," you say, smiling affectionately in return. "I'll let you get back to classes, and I'll see you soon, then."
"See you soon," Mami echoes.
You're smiling as you end the call, but the expression sours in a second as you meet Kyuubey's unblinking red stare. Madokami above, but it's... it's likeable, for what it is. For all your paranoia, it knows how to ingratiate itself. Then again, it's been dealing with humans for millennia. It's long since figured out the levers that make people tick.
Ah, well. You'll deal.
You hop to your feet, twisting from side to side and bouncing on your toes. "So, Kyuubey," you say. "Something you mentioned earlier struck me. Can magical girls die of biological old age? And we can heal telomere damage and other age-related problems?"
"Yes, to both," Kyuubey says. "It is possible for it to never occur to a magical girl that the damage of time can be healed."
"Ah," you say, rubbing your chin. "And Hideyoshi isn't old, right? I just wanna be sure."
"She isn't," Kyuubey agrees, rising to its feet and slinking towards you.
"Right," you say, pursing your lips. You stoop to grab the alien by the scruff of its neck and move it before it can get to you - it's not a cat, and it does not get to pretend to be an affectionate cat with you. You put it down firmly, away from you atop a crumbling brick divider, and step back to prop your fists on your hips.
"Right then," you say. "Can you put me in telepathic contact with Kuroki Matsuko and Hideyoshi Nao?"
"I possess the capability to do so," Kyuubeys responds. "But I will not."
"Why?" you ask, scowling at the Incubator.
"If I did that, then high demand magical girls would be inundated," Kyuubey says. "I think you would consider that a favourable outcome, but most don't."
And of course it prevents girls from easily reaching out for help. It lets people like Akiko gouge for using powers, because that's the only game in town. Artificial scarcity of the worst kind.
Damn.
"Right," you say. You can't stop the displeasure from leaking into your tone. "And you won't make an exception for me?"
"No," Kyuubey says, tail lashing slowly.
"Feh," you grunt in annoyance. Dammit, but that would have been too easy, wouldn't it? Then again... "But you're willing to advise me to go and see Miss Hideyoshi?"
"Yes," it says. "The situations are not comparable."
You grimace in annoyance. Damned rat. You'd argue, but you see no real point in it - you doubt you're going to change its mind like this, not without a long, protracted argument at the very least. Of course, there's about a snowball's chance in hell of it even happening even with said argument.
You sigh, putting the matter aside as you dig in your pocket to find your phone again, flipping it open to check the time. You can squeeze in a little more experimentation before heading to Kasamino, you decide. And it'd be more productive than talking to Kyuubey any more.
You stalk away from the little Incubator, moving to the opposite side of the yard as you extend your senses. Your Grief utility fog is definitely there, a faint sense of pressure on your senses, but you suspect it's something that can be gotten used to. You'll check with Kyouko when you get to Kasamino, first of all, and you'll need to give some consideration to whether you really want it to be your first impression to the Asunaro girls.
On the other hand, you can store a lot of Grief in the... In the cloud. Literal cloud storage. You flex your mind, dividing the Grief further. From microns, you split them down into nanometre scale particles, and with that kind of scale you have enough storage in the cloud for a fair number of Clear Seeds before you have to worry about hitting the limits.
You fold your legs and sit back on not-so-empty air, Grief condensing instantly to support you. Oh, you could definitely get used to this. Now...
Can you produce heat? Grief answers an effort of will, vibrating particles sizzling through the air to strike molecules. The air around your upraised hand noticeably warms, and you still the Grief before it reaches dangerous levels. Easy enough, given that thermal energy is little more than the motion of atoms and molecules.
Electricity and gravity are a different matter. You frown at the Grief you can't see, scowling across the yard. Kyuubey appears to have scampered off somewhere, and good riddance to it, really. You... suppose you could try and manipulate individual electrons to create current, theoretically, but electrons aren't really proper, solid things. Quantum physics and all.
You spend a few minutes attempting to corral electrons to create current, gazing outward with your powers rather than seeing the sandy ground in front of you. To no real avail. You're not sure whether you're actually doing anything, even, rather than just moving Grief nanoparticles around.
Gravity is right out. You simply don't have the mass to do it.
Two more quick tests, then, the first being...
You stand, reaching under your coat and 'withdrawing' one of your warhammers. You toss it in one hand, letting it wheel a full circle before catching it by the handle and flipping it into the air. It soars straight up, spinning end over end, and you shade your eyes against the sun as you follow it.
Of course, you don't actually have to see it when you can feel it with the nano particles of Grief, and if you can feel it, then you can catch it.
A twist of will, and Grief bands blossom out of the air in an instant, locking the hammer in place. It hangs high in the air, suspended by manacles of deep purple, and you grin.
Anyone who enters your zone of control is now even more screwed than before. Not that they weren't previously, of course, but hey.
You check your phone again. Time to go, you reckon.
"Kyuubey, you still around?" you call, looking around.
"Yes," it responds in its childlike voice. You sense its body appear out of thin air by the Grief nanoparticles displaced - behind you. You're already turning to face it. No Batman arrival for it!
"Right," you say. "I'm heading to Kasamino. For now, I'm going to see whether I can do visual camouflage of my flying platform below, can you verify it for me?"
"Certainly," Kyuubey says. You've already turned away from it, drawing in Grief from the cloud. You build your mobile oppression fortress, but you don't leave it the deep, rippling purple of Grief. You build layers of tiny, tiny scales, drawing inspiration from nature: Butterfly wings aren't actually coloured. There's no pigment in them, but they're beautifully colourful anyway because millions of years of evolution has resulted in nanoscale structures reflecting light into interferometric patterns that create brilliant colours.
Your Grief shades from its natural mottled purple to a deep red, then orange and yellow and green and finally blue as you fine tune it. You squint up at the sky, trying to match the colour.
"Vary the primary branches up by twenty-seven nanometers," Kyuubey suggests, eyes gleaming as it prowls around you. "Double the length of the trunks to present better radar absorption."
You follow the advice, and nod in satisfaction as the colour shifts to a perfect sky-blue. If Kyuubey's good for something...
"Cool. Thanks, Kyuubey. See you whenever," you say, brushing past it and striding for the platform.
Have you got a link for this? I don't remember us ever asking Kyubey for anything.
It's "We don't go to Asunaro" 2 & 3
Camouflaging our Grief was us doing a favor for it, to reduce the amount of effort it had to put into maintaining the masquerade. When we asked it to reciprocate by putting us in touch with a couple of magical girls--including the one that it had asked us to get in touch with in the first place--it declined. And we know that Kyubey has acted as a go-between for magical girls before, because that's how they arrange passage through each others' territory, like when the Sendai girls came here. So why did he refuse? Because it's not in his interest for us to make contact with those girls. If we made contact with them, we could save them, and Kyubey doesn't want them saved. He wants them to witch out. He wants all magical girls to witch out. That's his purpose in life.We got KB to help us measure some things, like our Grief control range, and it helped us camouflage our Grief better.
I support talking to Kyubey in general, but there are too many things that could go wrong if we talk to it here.
In addition to the everpresent risk of witchbombing, the risk is that we just five minutes ago told Kazumi how horrible Kyubey is, and if we're now seen talking to it, that's hard on our credibility.
Alright, so think for a moment: How does that play into us asking him about de-witching matters?Camouflaging our Grief was us doing a favor for it, to reduce the amount of effort it had to put into maintaining the masquerade. When we asked it to reciprocate by putting us in touch with a couple of magical girls--including the one that it had asked us to get in touch with in the first place--it declined. And we know that Kyubey has acted as a go-between for magical girls before, because that's how they arrange passage through each others' territory, like when the Sendai girls came here. So why did he refuse? Because it's not in his interest for us to make contact with those girls. If we made contact with them, we could save them, and Kyubey doesn't want them saved. He wants them to witch out. He wants all magical girls to witch out. That's his purpose in life.
Never forget that.
Have you seen PMMM: Rebellion?Unless a grief seed is really, really valuable in a way beyond the grief itself, there's not much reason not to offer help if he knows.
Have you seen PMMM: Rebellion?
The Incubators getting all of the grief from magical girls' magic usage without them witching out was the post-Madokami situation. And they considered the reduced output so substantive, and having witch-outs so preferable, that they were willing to abduct Homura and try to trap a god so that they could return to the pre-Madokami situation and bring witches back.
The Incubators are not okay with girls not witching out, even if they still get the Grief.
Are you suggesting that we let girls go through the trauma of witching out, then reverse the process, then let them go through it again and again, just so Kyubey can meet his quota? Because if not, then we're going to be preventing girls from witching out whenever possible, which is going to put a crimp on Kyubey's bottom line.There's a flaw in your argument here; he specifically says it's the change from a Magical Girl to a Witch that gives such an explosively huge payload of energy; this doesn't imply he'd go to such mad extents for the actual Grief Seed once it actually exists.
Are you suggesting that we let girls go through the trauma of witching out, then reverse the process, then let them go through it again and again, just so Kyubey can meet his quota? Because if not, then we're going to be preventing girls from witching out whenever possible, which is going to put a crimp on Kyubey's bottom line.
There's a flaw in your argument here; he specifically says it's the change from a Magical Girl to a Witch that gives such an explosively huge payload of energy; this doesn't imply he'd go to such mad extents for the actual Grief Seed once it actually exists.
Unless the incubators get energy from the Grief Seed rehatching.
I mean the assumption that they can non-destructively extract Grief from a Grief Seed is just that, an assumption. Asking for the incubators left-overs from energy-production could be asking for a Witch to the face, if not a broken, dead, burnt-out, shell of a Grief Seed.
Edit: Actually, does Kyuubey hand out emptied Grief Cubes to magical girls in need post-Madokami?
^ThisThere's a flaw in your argument here; he specifically says it's the change from a Magical Girl to a Witch that gives such an explosively huge payload of energy; this doesn't imply he'd go to such mad extents for the actual Grief Seed once it actually exists.
If we get to the point of asking for old seeds the Incubator took long ago, we'll deal with that then.Unless the incubators get energy from the Grief Seed rehatching.
I mean the assumption that they can non-destructively extract Grief from a Grief Seed is just that, an assumption. Asking for the incubators left-overs from energy-production could be asking for a Witch to the face, if not a broken, dead, burnt-out, shell of a Grief Seed.
Unless a grief seed is really, really valuable in a way beyond the grief itself, there's not much reason not to offer help if he knows.
PMAS seems to be assuming that Grief Seeds constantly trickle out a steady supply of Grief production, which is why Kyubey wants them.
Cite?It is.
A grief seed is a perpetual motion machine - over time, it can produce unlimited energy.
And PMAS seems to be assuming that Grief Seeds constantly trickle out a steady supply of Grief production, which is why Kyubey wants them.
A grief seed is a perpetual motion machine - over time, it can produce unlimited energy.
"Your range is centerd on your Soul Gem," it says. "The deviations from circularity of the path I travelled were not significant on a nanometer scale, allowing for vertical motion."
I know, right?I *assume* it's a sphere, but for some reason that description made me think for a second that it's a cylinder.