Alchemical Solutions [Worm/Exalted] Thread 24: Xenial Xenos Xerox Xanthous Xiphos

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 2)​

***


You used to like going to school. A fact that you will never reveal to Aisha or Dennis, of course.

But that was when school promised free periods and lunch breaks in the Library or the Computer Labs, giving Sakura and you time to search and post to all the best fic sites. Not that you couldn't do that at home - and you did - but… school didn't have your mother obsessively checking your browser history. Or scanning the computer for recently-created document files.

The two of you didn't want to come home to printed-out copies of your fics covered in red with corrections and suggestions, after all. Ka-san didn't get that the two of you were parodying all those terrible-...

...

… oh no. Have you… become the monsters?

…

No. No, that's a silly thought. That's like saying Post-Para art isn't actually art-

It's not, Warden, but if you aren't going to pay attention to your instructor, could have a moment of your time?

You blink at the sardonic drawl interrupting your train of thought, forcing your attention back to where you've slouched yourself behind the propped-up Algebra I book on your flimsy plastic-and-faux-wood desk. The teacher at the blackboard way in the front is still is talking about… binomials? Um. Right. Letters in math is probably never not going to be weird to you, even if you're having a much easier time somewhat understanding all these hard math problems after your upgrade.

After checking for a few seconds to make sure the prim old lady that's giving this crash-course Algebra review for a standing-room-only classroom isn't likely to look to your corner of the room any time soon, you dip your head down past the book again and close your eyes, focusing on your Safe Space and its sole conscious inhabitant.

Namely, Lord Grasp in all his splendor casually parked in front of the giant gate, which you've been letting him use as a way to keep an eye on your own surroundings for you. With Ciara asleep and Vincent back in New Camden, you needed some way to keep him busy.

And lugging him around in your backpack would just be asking for an awkward run-in in the school halls with someone, leading to him spilling out of your bag and… well, you've written, read, and watched enough high school cape dramas to know how that goes.

You sigh. Only if you help me with this part on the next test.

The gemstones arrayed above the entrance twist as he rolls his 'eyes' and waves one of his car-sized pincers dismissively. Most certainly not, young Warden. Your academic skills are appalling, and I will not facilitate the stymying of your education in such a manner.

Inwardly pouting, you open your eyes again - both to keep up the appearance of being attentive and because now he knows that you're not paying full attention to him, too.

As if depriving yourself of constant awareness of my magnificence is anything but a loss for you, he mentally huffs through your Familiar link. Regardless. The first, most important matter that deserves your consideration: that boy in the red vest three desks to your left has been checking you out all class.

It takes all your Maker-given skill and gifts to not react... out loud. And to not immediately look.

Th-that's… you finally retort after restarting your poor, confused brain, then swallow nervously. That's impossible, Lord Grasp. I'm the old me right now. And I didn't even put on that makeup you told me to! He's not-

Are you about to insinuate that I can't discern when a common, teenaged mortal is casting lustful gazes with all the subtlety of Mount Mostath, dear Warden?

… no, Lord Grasp.

Very good, he hums. And you misunderstand my previous evaluations, Warden: this form is not repugnant, nor even unsightly, but simply… plain, as it's clear you have taken no efforts to cultivate its finer points and downplay its… well, you understand, yes?

You are not pouting.

… yes, Lord Grasp.

And I find it most peculiar that all our hard work at strengthening your resolve against the lustful and adoring masses would come apart in the face a single, lone admirer. Do you know this young man?

… is he still looking?

An exasperated sigh fills your head. No, Warden. You are safe from a dreadful moment of fleeting awkwardness should you look now.

Your eyes dart to your left, looking past the ragged-looking goth girl, the still-wet hoodied boy, to see… some new boy who's dressed in a fairly nice white shirt with a clean red vest. He looks… Thai? That's surprising; there's more Asians attending this high school than where the some of the Wards have been sent, which is why you and Sakura were transferred here originally, but since this is one of the few schools that's still standing these days? You're back to being an anomaly percentage-wise rather than just a minority. He must be one of the new transfers, and you just missed him when everyone was taking their seats.

Still, turning back to your book you feel… relieved? Less confused, at least.

He's just looking at me because I'm Japanese, Lord Grasp. Not because I'm… because old me is cute.

Lord Grasp is mentally silent for a while, not even broadcasting any emotions... which means he's upset and is thinking of ways to convince you of how you're wrong. Good thing he's easily distracted.

What was the second thing you wanted to talk about?

Mmmnn… he mentally grumbles, knowing full well what you're doing but unable to resist anyway. But then you get a feeling of… eagerness? Well, I didn't want to interrupt your attention to detail at the time, but now would be a good opportunity to critique the fantasies you were conjuring of that young man that came in late to your English class, all wet and with his white shirt hugging those defined-

Outwardly, you are the picture of a bored, half-attentive student.

Inwardly, you start screaming.


***

 

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 3)​

***


Before... the Nine, the PRT had tweaked your daily schedule at school so that you and Sakura wouldn't have any classes together. They'd even somehow found six other girls to transfer in at the same time that looked reasonably like the two of you, which was kinda eerie - both because of how quickly the PRT had managed that (only a few weeks notice) and because only one of them was even partly Japanese.

They had all signed non-disclosure forms with the PRT to keep quiet about the fact that they were part of your 'cover story', though none of the other girls were officially supposed to know which of your group were the new capes. Your Wards costumes making the two of you look different heights and sizes had helped to keep the illusion going after your reveal, but more than a few knowing glances had been cast your way by your cover-story doubles whenever you passed in the hallways or in the lunch hall. None of the other girls had approached either of you to talk about it before… everything... but that was likely because their families were apparently getting a nice payment from the PRT for helping keep your cover.

Not even two months ago, eight little Asian girls had transferred into Albion Academy of Philadelphia all at once.

Today, the first day of classes after the Slaughterhouse Nine's rampage, only one came back.

You're not sure what's worse: people confusing you for Sakura as you pass in the halls, or people confusing you for one of the other missing girls.

…

Okay, you may have glared a little too hard at that boy that confused you for Maya. She was a fourth-generation New Zealander, for Maker's sake! And she was the only one who hadn't died, her family had just moved away!

Pausing at the sound of your cell phone creaking under your mashing of its tiny keyboard, you close your eyes and lean forward to rest your head on the cool metal of your lunch table's top.

This day isn't even half over and you've had to use text messages to talk Dennis and Aisha both down from skipping out (after Chris and Missy, respectively, ratted them out to you), answer three Youth Guard emails complaining about the PRT's inability to get replacements for Wards that lost body-doubles, and now you just got your sixth email from the Image department about what to do now that your power is so different and there's only one of you.

Technically you shouldn't even be reading these emails at school, especially now that everyone's so packed in together that you have to try not to look over other people's shoulders.

But Radiant Iconography Array costs you nothing and gives no sign that it's in use, so everyone else sees you reading terrible, terrible cape lemon fics. Because who pairs Hero with anyone but Legend, really?

And no, you already asked Ciara: she didn't manage to get Hero's ghost. Her range from the Birdcage wasn't that big, not to mention that Cauldron-created cape ghosts don't 'call out' to her, and… well, it's been too long now.

"Everything alright?"

Even with all the dull chatter filling the lunchroom air, you hear the question easily enough to understand it was directed at you from across the table. Looking up- oh, it's the Thai-ish kid from Math. Um.

If you stare at the boy's concerned, not-too-bad-looking face for longer than necessary, it's because you're trying to mentally stop the mental giggles from Lord Grasp by violently reshaping your Safe Space to flip him over. Ciara will be fine inside him, you're sure.

You are also not blushing, because the RIA image you're now reshaping to also cover yourself is not blushing.

"... Hai?"

He blinks his dark eyes and winces, nervously raising a hand to wave at you over his fresh maybe-fish lunch. "Oh, uh… hi! Right, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you! You just looked ready to kill your phone..."

… did he just…? Ugh. At least in Brockton Bay everyone even remotely Asian knew enough Japanese to handle a quick greeting and to ask to be left alone, just for the off-chance of running into an ABB gang recruiter.

Still, something is niggling in the back of your head that isn't Lord Grasp. You've been keeping sane so far today by subtly giving off a blanket 'I don't want to be talked to' impression with your body-language charm, so you've largely been left alone - save by your uptight Economics teacher who seemed to take your makeshift aura as an invitation to call on you for everything. Penny and Kinzey have a different lunch period now that some of their classes got shifted around, so you haven't even had them hanging around you today.

You don't have Taylor's magic eyeballs, so you can't just X-Ray his brain to see if he's a cape. Which, knowing your luck, he probably is. Some kind of Thinker? That'd make sense why he'd single you out, since even under IAT Thinkers react weirdly to you. Or a Trump.

Okay, so… how to phrase this? He's… genuinely nervous, as far as you can tell, but he managed to push through your Broody Loner Aura for old you.

You pin him with a Level 6 Stare for a few seconds to make him squirm, then glance left and right meaningfully before meeting his eyes again and leaning in just enough that he would theoretically hear you if you muttered something. Which you don't - you just move your lips as if you were actually mumbling your words, and have your RIA project the words directly into his ears at the expected volume.

"... are you a cape?" you faux-whisper.

He goes wide-eyed, tanned face going slightly pale for a split-second as he tries to control his reaction-

… no. No. That was just supposed to be a leading question that he'd be confused by at first while denying it, which you would then counter with, "Well then I'm not interested," which would get him to leave you alone while you deal with all the dumb emails that Taylor isn't around to handle. He'd probably still awkwardly hang around for a bit, guilting you into talking to him after you finished this last email, and then one thing would lead to another and your firstborn would be named Dennis because Aisha would demand it, no matter what gender it is.

She just had to wonder aloud this morning if any of you would run into any new capes today.

You tune out the no-longer-cute boy's obviously-fake denial, close your eyes, rest your head on the table again, and sigh.


***

 

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 4)​

***


The school cafeteria is packed, two different lines for food flowing out opposite doors along the side of the huge room while tables overflow with hungry teenagers only marginally caring about whatever former cliques and groups that existed here or they brought with them from their old schools. Tensions are higher than usual with so many new faces around along with the diminished food portions that the cafeteria has been forced to resort to, but you've found that only means people typically only are more alert for stuff they're already expecting than for anything new.

So, as long as you make sure you don't bump into anyone hard enough to leave a lasting impression or make a scene, you're able to easily drag the not-cute-anymore boy out of the cafeteria without anyone really noticing. The two of you quickly scurry down two hallways and around three corners until you're just outside the teacher's parking lot entrance, and then you use RIA to amplify the sound of the torrential rainfall and dim the already-low lighting so that the two of you are hardly noticeable to anyone that might look your way.

You're not going to make it look like the two of you are making out, even though you easily could. Not yet, anyway.

The not-too-tall boy only gulps nervously as you finish off your quick group email to Director Uriel, Chevalier, and the rest of the Wards about what's happened and where you are now, then send it and snap the phone closed. He flinches at the sound, but his mouth snaps shut when you shoot him a Level 5 Glare as you plan out how this is going to play out.

Hmm. You… could just open with the Taylor Method, but that has the usual side-effect of traumatizing cute boys so much they'll never date you. You can't go full Kinzey Method because he doesn't look dumb enough to fall for that and you'd have to make you boobs way bigger, which he'd probably notice too. No, you definitely need to make him think you're a little scary, sooo… partial Alexandria Method, focusing more on the "I am serious business and know everything" part and less of the "stone cold bitch" aspect? You guess that sorta just becomes the Miss Militia Method, only a bit more wordy. Sure, that'll work.

Taking a half-step back so you're just barely in arm's reach, you shift your shoulders back and clasp your hands in front of you, then tone down the Stare to a Level 4 while altering your body language to radiate authority instead of meekness.

"Who sent you?"

His back against the damp brick wall, he blinks hard several times as he goes from shocked to confused to afraid and back again - his mouth opening and shut more than once as looks ready to say something before cutting himself off. Finally he winces and raises his left hand to his temple for a moment before shaking his head and closing his eyes.

"S-sorry, just-... what did you just do? It's-... it's like you're a whole different person?"

You frown, remembering Inquisition voicing similar complaints when you adopted different mindsets in front of her. "You're a Thinker?"

"I-... guess? I remember my…" he pauses, opening his eyes as some of his nervousness bleeds away into pain and sorrow, then crosses his arms as he retreats inwards. "Sure. Yeah."

No, he can't use pity on you! You're the mistress of pity parties, now! That won't work!

You crank the Glare up to Level 7, causing you to maybe-sorta glow a tiny bit in the dim lighting.

"You didn't answer my first question: who sent you?"

He reels back, paling, though since he's already against the wall this only causes him to bang his head against the hard red brick. He flinches at the pain, but it's not enough to distract him from your gaze.

"Nn-ah-urgk!" he half-chokes, unfolding his arms to bring one up to the back of his head and the other up towards you in surrender. He quickly clears his throat and whispers quietly in protest. "N-no one! No one sent me!"

The passion, embarrassment, and confusion in his voice… he's probably telling the truth. You don't have your Spike equipped right now, but you could up your Glare to level 8 or 9 with Rogue Cell Isolation Protocols… no. Bad Saki. No torturing the cute boy before the first date.

Huffing, you ease the Glare down to a level 4 again with a slight pout. "Then why have you been staring at me all day? Why did you try to talk to me when I clearly wanted to be left alone?"

At the same time, you tilt your head forwards very slightly while also shifting your shoulders in for a brief moment. Subtle movements that your Emotive Aesthetics of the Body Electric charm uses to clarify your questions so that he'll understand subconsciously what you're really asking: what are you seeing when you look at me?

He keeps rubbing the back of his head as he meets your stare for a few seconds, then awkwardly looks away while he blushes. "S-sorry. I didn't- I wasn't trying to be some kind of... creepy stalker or something. This… today's the first day I've been around so many people since…" he swallows uncomfortably and you nod your head in understanding: since he triggered. "A-anyway, when I look at people I can see… how they're going to... move? How to fight them, mostly? It's been hard trying to ignore it all, but then when I looked at you it… the 'you' kept... jumping around? Changing?"

He shrugs, looking back to meet your eyes as you raise an eyebrow but don't otherwise react. You thought your IAT kept your Alchemical-ness from freaking out Thinking powers? "I saw another cape in my first class and they didn't do that, so-"

You let your expression betray your shock as you hold up a finger against his mouth.

"Stop."

He stops, eyes going wide again at how you're- oh, you've moved close enough to almost be up against him. Oh well. This is - sadly - more important than cute boy proximity... even if that thought makes Lord Grasp dramatically gasp and hold a giant claw to his archway-forehead.

"You saw another cape."

He starts to hum and mumble, so you stop him again by pressing more firmly against his lips and Stare.

He nods. You consider what he's already said about his power...

"You can 'see' capes because you can see how they'd fight with their power."

He blinks in surprise, then nods. Now for the more… difficult question.

"Did the power you saw match one of the Philadelphia Wards' powers?"

Technically… well, the Unwritten Rules (which are totally written down, you've learned recently, but 'Unwritten Rules' is easier to say than the mess of court verdicts and PRT regulations that basically boil down to the same thing) mean you should only worry about making sure he doesn't accidentally out the other Wards, so the best-case right now is if he says 'yes'.

But Director Uriel pretty clearly implied to you that with Philly such a mess right now that if you see any new capes you should try to talk them up. It's for their own good!

So, of course, he shakes his head 'no'.

You lean forward and bonk him in the chest with your forehead as you sigh. So much for going to the rest of your classes today.

Dropping the hand on his lips, you bring it down to push off-

"Saki?!" Dennis and Ernest's voices call out to you in shocked unison from the other side of the hallway.

"Eeep!" you definitely don't squeal, and you definitely don't turn your push-off of the totally-not-cute boy into a one-handed shove that knocks his legs out from under him and sends him crashing down to the ground in a thoroughly-confused mess of limbs as you stumble away.

Turning back to the two out-of-costume Wards, you point at them angrily before their smirks can start growing too big.

"You saw nothing!"


***

 

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 5)​

***


You step out of the swirling vortex several feet away from Director Uriel's secretary's desk, dragging Aisha through with you in order to ensure she doesn't immediately run off. Not that Aisha's likely to bolt - you've noted an increased willingness from her to at least follow the Director's direct requests since her upgrade - but you'd rather not chance having to waste time chasing after her if you're wrong.

Mister E silently pads through the portal behind you, allowing you to mentally shut the portal down... and causing Miriam's expression to go from 'mild surprise' to 'unamused glower' as her eyes drift from the two of you to the giant black cat. And now you're curious as to the story behind that, but you probably don't have the time for it right now.

You blatantly glance at the row of international clocks along the wall her desk is against, then look back to the Director's ever-ruffled secretary. At least she appears to have combed her wild red mop of hair slightly today.

"Good afternoon, Miss Miriam," you say politely, bowing your head just enough to be cordial. She's helped you enough these last few days to have earned at least that much. Beside you, Aisha grunts and nods her head, allowing you to continue. "Could you let Director Uriel know we've arrived?"

"A-ah?" she blinks, turning back to you before giving you a frazzled smile. "Y-yes, good afternoon, Tatsu! And… Who! Just-" she pauses after her greeting is accomplished, then glances to the four full-kit guards in the waiting room's corners and waves at them to put their raised rifles and shotguns away while making a distressed hissing noise. You somewhat follow her example and greet them as well, simply keeping your smile genuine as you give them each a light wave in turn.

… at least they didn't shoot you this time, though unlike before you did wait a few seconds between opening your portal and going through. Luckily Lord Grasp wasn't with you then (much to his own dismay, and why he's on your shoulder now), and all it took was a quick hop over to Prayer to get the bullet wounds healed up, so you weren't too put out about it; really, you counted it as a lesson learned for everyone.

Once the guards relax enough to point their weapons away from your group, Miriam sighs and looks back to you with her haggard smile. "The Director said for you to head in whenever you arrived," she admits, the hand not filled with papers tapping a button on her desk phone in a sequence that you suspect is cluing the Director into your approach. "Go on in!"

You thank the stressed secretary and tug Aisha along with you to the door, open it and- make a surprised squeak as the big, black form of Mister E smoothly glides under your and Aisha's joined hands in order to slip into the room ahead of the two of you. Aisha grumbles as she uses her off-hand to swat his tail before it flicks her in the face as he passes, and inside the Director's office you hear Chevalier clear his throat in surprise while Director Uriel sighs tiredly.

On your shoulder, Lord Grasp nods approvingly. You're… going to have to review what he's been teaching Mister E, aren't you? Ugh. More work.

Director Uriel's thick-carpeted, faux-wood-paneled office still looks like it was torn right out of the 1950's, complete with weird golf and bowling trophies on one side and a full bar on the other, despite all the 'security upgrades' that you heard Taylor helped install. Or maybe it still looks the same because he got her to help? That feels more likely.

Director Uriel glances away from the computer screen on his desk just long enough to meet your and Aisha's eyes, then grunts.

"Tatsu, Who. Sit."

Chevalier - still in his full silver-and-gold plate armor - turns from where he is sitting in one of the two 'big people' chairs in front of Uriel's massive mahogany desk and gives each of you a nod… then looks to Mister E as the horse-sized saber-toothed cat immediately claims the second reinforced chair and begins a staring contest with him. Rolling your eyes, you let go of Aisha's hand as the two of you take the two normal-sized leather chairs in front of the Director's desk.

Uriel himself looks… healthy, at least, but you're pretty sure that's only because he isn't like Director Piggot and actually lets Prayer heal him every morning to keep his crazy workload from making him sick. Still, the bags under his eyes are probably permanent by now. He's also back to wearing his PRT trooper armor (except the helmet, which is hanging on his chair behind him), so that's… probably not a good sign for why he called the two of you in immediately after school got out.

He stops typing just after Aisha snorts at something she finds funny, taking his hands away from the keyboard as he turns fully towards the four of you, though his eyes focus on you first.

"Of the four new capes you spotted and talked to, two are on the line right now with their parents, talking with Miss Militia and Erasmus. Good work."

You blink, but unlike Aisha you manage to control your frown. "I thought Erasmus was transferring to Las Vegas-"

"He returned this morning - they rejected his transfer request," Uriel waves away, glancing at Chevalier, causing the armored hero to shift in his seat and clear his throat awkwardly. "Can't imagine why."

A slow grin spreads on Aisha's face. "Hey. Lemme do a patrol with him. Welcome him back home, you know?"

"Aisha, no-!"/"Who, no-" both you and Chevalier sigh at the same time, the frown evident in his voice matching your own, only for the two of you to be cut off by Uriel raising his hand for silence. Your reactions halted, the Director raises an eyebrow as he slowly glances between an all-to-eager Aisha and Mister E - who has stopped staring at Chevalier and is now staring at him… hungrily.

Closing his eyes, he leans back in his padded leather chair and sighs. "He's not slated for neighborhood patrols right now, he's too useful keeping things in the relief camps running smoothly. He was the one who helped recruit almost all the Wards that were here before you all transferred in, and I'm making sure he's going to at least be observing when these new four come in for the song and dance."

Cracking open one eye, he levels it at Aisha… and shrugs. "We're the good guys. Keep that in mind."

You cough lightly in your hand and glare at your fellow Alchemical, hammering in the point wordlessly that he means no stabbing unless you catch him in the act.

Aisha's gleeful expression shifts as she considers this, eventually settling on a more knowing grin as she shrugs in return. "Eh, sure. I've got better things to do, anyway."

The local Protectorate leader sighs and clasps his armored gauntlets in front of him while leaning forward, his voice growing serious - heavier than you think you've ever heard from him before.

"Unfortunately... you're not wrong," he pauses, waiting for Aisha's smile to dim before tilting his head to Uriel. "Director?"

The veteran PRT Director closes his eyes again for a few seconds, then draws in a long, tired breath before bringing his right hand up to his phone and tapping one of the buttons with the blinking lights next to it.

He lets out the breath in a weary sigh. "Rebecca, you want to do the honors?"

You control your reaction as a confident, familiar voice comes through the speaker.

"Very well, Martin," Alexandria's voice echoes out, her tone grim. "Tatsu, Who. And your… familiars. I am Chief-Director Costa-Brown. Normally I would say that what I am about to reveal to you would not leave this room, but I am fully aware that your… Assembly... keeps no secrets between each other. If Vajra and Weaver have not received this information by the time you speak with them next, ensure that they know they are not to disseminate this any further. Am I understood?"

You sit up a bit straighter in your chair, and note out of the corner of your eye that the room's atmosphere has even caused Aisha to still her light fidgeting.

"Yes, Chief-Director."

… you elbow Aisha in the shoulder.

"Uh-... right. Yeah, sure."

Both Uriel and Chevalier give Aisha unimpressed glares, and for once she actually looks a bit sheepish. You will cherish this memory forever.

The PRT's Chief-Director makes a brief grunt of acceptance through the phone. "Good enough. At 2:15 PM today, five of the seven most-recently-revised Endbringer attack modeling programs simultaneously began showing erratic predictions for Leviathan. The deep-sea monitoring net had not detected any movement from Leviathan since all three Endbringers went 'dormant' following Behemoth's attack on Brockton Bay, so a deep-sea drone was dispatched to secure visual confirmation of its current status."

Uriel leans forward, taps a few keys on his keyboard, then reaches up with his other hand and spins his monitor around to face the four of you.

Filling the screen is a single image, revealing the pitch-black abyss of the deep sea contrasted with the murky grey sea floor lit up by the camera drone's onboard strobe lights.

And a dark - almost black - stone replica of the second Endbringer, its hunched, reptilian form detailed well enough that you can almost feel it looking directly at you through the camera.

Beside you, Aisha opens her mouth but the Chief-Director continues before she can get a word out.

"Upon discovering Leviathan's disappearance, the few PRT Thinkers capable of even marginally piercing the Anti-Thinker effects surrounding the greater Philadelphia area were contacted. Through careful questioning, we have determined two things: that the weather patterns that have kept the low pressure systems in your area are unnatural, and that the amount of water falling from those pressure systems is more than what should be up there."

You swallow. Well… that explains why the rain's been so bad these last few days, at least.

When the Chief-Director doesn't immediately continue, Chevalier clears his throat.

"You said the modeling programs are giving different predictions for Leviathan? Do any of them show it attacking us?"

Alexandria gives a quick grunt that you interpret as her way of 'nodding' over a purely audio medium. "All of them do, but at wildly different times - some a week from now, some give us months. The new information given by our Thinkers will hopefully help to narrow this window down, but for the moment we are operating under the expectation that - given the obvious trends of the last few months - Leviathan will either attack upon Weaver's return to Philadelphia or whenever a new member of Weaver's Assembly is brought to the Brockton Bay Crater for… processing."

There a brief grinding from Chevalier's gauntlets tightening, but Aisha's loud snort of amusement drowns that out quickly.

"Right, so… basically what we were all expecting anyway? What's the problem, then?"


***

 

[Gromweld]

Double Post because it's my Birthday, so I can do what I want.

And what I want is MORE VOTING!

CHAPTER 10.6: LIGHTNING ROUND VOTE 02

What's Next On Saki's Afternoon Schedule: (Choose ONE, NO STUNT)
[ ] Continue Interrogating Valefor
[ ] Meet A New Ward With The Other Wards
[ ] Encounter New Gang
[ ] Talk With Accord
[ ] Talk With Elite

VOTING CLOSES:
Sep 15, 2019 at 7:00 PM ​

 

[Gromweld]

VOTE CLOSED

... and XenForo 2 upgrade by SV means my old Vote Tally program doesn't work anymore. Phooey. Ah well, looks like another has been created to fill the gap (and not being able to modify/edit the built-in Vote Tally feature means it's unusable in my eyes...).


TL;DR VOTE RESULTS: VALEFOR GETS MORE HAPPY FUN SPIKE TIME


What's Next On Saki's Afternoon Schedule: (Choose ONE, NO STUNT)

[X] Continue Interrogating Valefor
No. of Votes: 10

Spoiler: Voters

[X] The Lowtide
[X] Killer_Whale
[X] landcollector
[X] Phyrexia Unbound
[X] sainen
[X] Sapient_Ham
[X] Silently Watches
[X] Sitxar
[X] veekie
[X] Vyrexuviel

[X] Talk With Accord
No. of Votes: 9

Spoiler: Voters

[X] Daemir
[X] Datakim
[X] Derpmind
[X] Ekzentric Lohner
[X] Gumiho
[X] rags
[X] Shykta
[X] tenchifew
[X] VNodosaurus

[X] Talk With Elite
No. of Votes: 3

Spoiler: Voters

[X] FunkyEntropy
[X] Scify
[X] uju32

[X] Meet A New Ward With The Other Wards
No. of Votes: 2

Spoiler: Voters

[X] kenhikaru
[X] Sworl

Total No. of Voters: 24

 

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 6)​

***


The aftermath of that bombshell is relatively tame beyond Aisha's eager blustering, with Chevalier and the PRT Directors doing most of the talking. Really, you were only there because the PRT was actually holding to their word about leaving Taylor alone during her vacation; in the event Leviathan (or any of the Endbringers) showed up early, you'd likely be tasked to go grab her and explain what was going on, and with Aisha's extreme combat upgrades she and Prayer were going to be in the front line defense while Taylor and the rest of the Protectorate figured out a strategy. Prayer herself would be getting this news with Director Piggot later today, hopefully, as the Camden teams are busy handling some problems right now and can't break away for this meeting.

You manage to hide your own curiosity at that, but Aisha nearly leaps out of her chair and asks what the problem is and if she can go help. Costa-Brown, Uriel and Chevalier all shut her down, even despite Mister E's attempt to do an adorable whine in protest.

You give the big kitty a back scratch for a good effort, but that causes him to expect you to keep going for the rest of the meeting. Lord Grasp mutters about not spoiling him, but he's so soft... you don't mind. Really.

For now, the PRT is going to coordinate with the other government arms to begin issuing warnings that the rain is forecasted to continue for the next week, which in turn will generate evacuation orders for anything near the major waterways. In addition, the PRT will begin moving all of the current shelters to the west side of the city, away from the rivers and as high above sea level as is possible while still staying within the Greater Philadelphia area.

You try to pay attention to most of it, but the creeping dread of having to face the Endbringer that sank a whole island takes the larger part of your attention. Especially when Kyushu isn't… wasn't… that much bigger than the part of New Jersey that's between you and the ocean… right?

It's a good thing Mister E's fur is so fluffy. You'd feel a lot worse without his quiet rumbling under your scratching.

Unfortunately, your totally-not-brooding means you're a little surprised by how quickly the rest of the meeting flies by, ending with Chief-Director Costa-Brown calling you and Aisha out again in order to reiterate the need for silence about... all this for now. You give a more confident response than you feel, but at least you don't have to poke Aisha to give a verbal answer this time. Alexandria-in-disguise thanks you for your discretion and hangs up, and then Director Uriel waves for the two of you to get on with the rest of your afternoon while he talks some more things over with Chevalier.

So, naturally, you tap Aisha and Mister E and drag the four of you into your Safe Space.

Directory Uriel only told you not to enter his office that way, after all.

"Ohhhhh yeah," Aisha giggles with glee, turning around to face you as she rubs her hands together. "I was hopin' it'd be Leviathan next! Behemoth'd prolly just turn my beamsaber off or even turn the blade around so it stabs me. And the Fuckin' Simurgh'd just keep in the air like a pussy."

… Glare Level 8 is too nice for her, but you don't want to jump straight to the mind-control Charms. Yet.

"Aisha," you begin, slowly, carefully bringing your hands together as a formal dress you saw on the Internet a few days ago shimmers into being around you through careful RIA exploitation. "If Leviathan fights us here, at best most of Philadelphia will be completely destroyed and the rest will be halfway underwater. That's if it doesn't decide to just sink all of New Jersey on its way to get to us."

She pauses, blinks, and leans slightly away from you while being unable to break eye contact.

"Err… uh… b-but we can stop him before he gets going! That's the way they beat him before, right?"

You keep Staring.

"We just got out of a meeting that showed Leviathan is either going to sit in another dimension pouring water on us until the city washes into the Delaware River and we all drown, or is hiding somewhere just waiting to pop up at the worst possible time with a surprise tidal wave in his wake. What makes you think that this fight will end any different than Brockton Bay if we fight Leviathan here?"

Some of the color drains out of her face at the mention of Brockton Bay, but she swallows her fear down and rallies as quickly as you'd expect.

"Okay, right. So… so then we don't fight 'im here! We get Taylor to trick him into going to the Cradle first and we just let Doom Ball…" she shrugs, "... I 'unno, turn him into a pink elephant or something? I'd be down with that, even if it means I don't get to fight."

You frown some more, but Lord Grasp picks up on some of your uncertainty and voices it for you.

"Your enthusiasm is commendable, Miss Memory, but what dear Warden is trying to communicate is that you must take care with voicing such desires aloud. Your Assembly is shaping the destinies of multiple realms, and such efforts draw the attention of greater powers. You do not wish to give your version of the Maidens - or worse, whatever menial servants maintain your reality's Loom - any tempting... ideas. Your Assembly has enough on its plate without adding to it unnecessarily."

You blink. Aisha blinks. Mister E nods sagely.

"Wait, like Murphy's Law?"

"That's… no," you huff, turning to look at your shoulder scorpion. "That's not what I was trying to say. At all. We don't have spirits, remember?"

He huffs and hops down to the black jade tiles of your dimension's surface, waddling away while gesticulating with his pincers as he makes space for his transformation. "Oh, I am well aware of that preposterous notion you've all purported, Warden. There is something keeping your reality together, mark my words, and from all my experience I have learned that it is not worth giving bored laborers ideas."

You turn back to Aisha and sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose to clear your thoughts again, but as you open your eyes you note that she's already wearing a thoughtful expression that implies your message has already gotten through… somewhat.

"Just… don't brag about wanting to fight the Endbringers in front of anyone else, Aisha. I know you want to, but… every time they've shown up for Taylor they've done something new. And you can't survive getting ripped in half like Prayer can."

"... Bladedancer brags about wantin' to-"

You Stare.

After a few seconds, Aisha realizes what she was saying and runs a hand through her purple-streaked hair, heaving a sigh to match your own.

"Yeah, yeah, way to be a buzzkill. Whatever. Fine."

"Good," you nod politely, patting her on the head. She's as tall as you now, even with her pushing HSA to its limit to make her as short as possible, which… well, she mentioned that barely anyone remembers her at her middle school from before her upgrade, so hopefully it wasn't a problem when she returned today. "Now, where should I drop you off?"

She glares at you flatly, slapping your hand away before her eyes drift past you as she considers the question.

"Ehhhh… I guuueeeesssss I should go check in with Bro so's I can tell him I actually made it through the whole day there. You can hit inside the Wyld Hunt garage, right? Rather not deal with the rain if I don't have to."

You close your eyes and- hmm. You drove there with Prayer to pick her up for training yesterday, but the garage was closed then. Can you push your mental viewing point…?

The portal behind you spins up, showing a twisted, distorted view of the low-light interior of the Wyld Hunt's garage. Turning halfway, you gesture to it graciously and smile.

"Just barely."

She snorts, then makes a lazy gesture at Mister E for the giant fluffball to follow her through.

"What 'bout you? Anything planned for the rest of today? You can swing by for dinner tonight if you want."

Your smile doesn't crack, but it's a bit of a strain to keep Aisha from noticing.

"Ah, I already promised I'd help deal with some clean up and paperwork that Taylor's not around to help with. I don't think I'll be free in time for dinner, but thank you."

Aisha's a hair's breadth from entering the portal when she stops, then slowly turns to give you an eye-full. Beside her, Mister E pauses and mimics her.

"Hey. You're not turnin' into Tay on us, are you? You're gettin' eight hours a night, right?"

You wave your hand, dismissing the concern. "Maaa, I'm not working that much, Aisha. It's okay. Go on."

Rolling her eyes, she sighs and throws her hands up before striding through the shimmering air of the portal, her Familiar lingering a moment longer before turning back and padding through himself.

You sigh and check your watch. 4:54 PM.

A little late, but Director Uriel should have made sure they knew you've been in a meeting.

The massive portal in front of you wavers as the Wyld Hunt's garage shifts into a different scene, one with far more white, significantly better lighting, and vastly more security.

With a second thought, a group of hexagon tiles to your left rise out of the floor to head height, then fall back - leaving behind their blonde, disheveled cargo.

You bend down and brush the hair out of Ciara's sleeping face, then turn back to Lord Grasp's palatial form as he quietly shuffles forward. You nod to him and stand up just as his 'mouth' of a front gate opens and dozens of streamers and blankets pour out to scoop up the thirty-something pre-teen and pull her back into his care.

"You don't need to wake her up right now, but I... may need her help later if things go bad," you wince, sighing. "Be ready?"

The eight giant gemstones twist once, glimmering as he raises his car-sized pincers and snaps them closed with a ringing, shearing chime.

"Always, my dear."

Letting your RIA shift into your Wards costume, you slowly walk through the portal after making sure the opening has already been apparent at the other end for several seconds. The colors of your Safe Space's portal bleed for a heartbeat into the tesselating black-and-white hexagons before resolving into the reality of the PRT interrogation observation room. The squad of PRT troopers has their guns trained on your portal already, but as it shuts down behind you they lower their rifles and containment foam throwers.

Agent Thorn and Agent Wilson are here already, the two also wearing full PRT trooper gear with additional reflective faceplate protection - you only recognize them because they're both shorter than you, though you've been polite enough in your interactions with them these past few days not to point that out.

"Agents," you greet, bowing your head just enough that they appreciate your deference - Agent Thorn nods while Agent Wilson just waves off the pleasantries. "I apologize for being late, the meeting ran long."

"No problem, Tatsu," Agent Wilson's pack-a-day voice rumbles through his helmet. "The Director said you're up for takin' another crack at Valefor today. Have everything you need?"

Even with all the craziness at school today, you'd still had the few minutes you needed to hop into Lord Grasp's vat chamber and swap in the Charms you'd be needing for now. They're not nice Charms.

You smile behind your illusory mask and raise a hand to reveal the spike extending from it.

It's not a nice smile.

"Lead the way."


***

 

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 7)​

***


When you'd first learned that the PRT's holding cells are only one floor below the ground level - above their quarantine level, even - you'd been confused. Wouldn't you want to put your captured criminals as far away from freedom as you can manage? Why put jail cells even closer to the surface than the Wards and Protectorate housing?

The reasoning you'd been given by the introductory PRT instructor was that parahuman powers are so ridiculously varied that anything short of a large, dedicated prison center was an exercise in futility. The holding cells in the PRT HQ were not meant to hold criminal parahumans more than a night or two at the maximum, existing only as the stop-over point between either a medium-security parahuman prison (like the one that the Nine attacked in the north part of Philly) or the Birdcage. Some cities actually made the attempt to reinforce, sequester, or hide their jail cells, but the instructor had shrugged and admitted that it didn't seem to actually do much in the long run except waste taxpayer money and put the base in more danger from even more destructive escape and breakout attempts.

It wasn't until after learning about Cauldron and how the PRT is barely more than a... holding pattern… for the end of the world, that it finally made real sense. In a twisted, depressing way. Cauldron needed parahumans out in the world getting stronger and fighting the Endbringers, not rotting away in jail cells - all except the uncontrollable monsters, who went to the Birdcage for eventual release in the final battles against Scion (or for Ciara to… collect).

During your night-time trips to Cauldron's bases while everyone else on vacation was sleeping, you had asked Contessa - while she escorted you down featureless white halls, from practice subject to practice subject for your Doom Spike - if they actually had plans or ideas for how to run a real justice system once Scion was gone.

She hadn't broken her stride or even turned her head to acknowledge the question, but she was silent for longer than the usual amount of time it took her to respond to your other questions.

"We don't expect to be a part of whatever remains."

As with everything she says and does, there's obviously lots of different meanings and reasons behind her response. At first glance, it's a statement that they don't expect to survive the final fight, even if there is still pockets of humanity left over in the end. Thinking a bit more, there's the idea that the survivors wouldn't (or shouldn't) trust whatever's left of Cauldron. But you know what she's really trying to do: she's still trying to dissuade you from getting them boyfriends.

It's not going to work. Love will give them a reason to hope for the future! Also, everything you've watched and read indicates that sex helps mellow people out, so they definitely need that, too-

The heavy, reinforced steel door that is suddenly in front of you because you've totally been paying attention to where you're going slides open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the sterile white room and its lone, awful inhabitant.

Just when you'd started to have happy thoughts. Ugh. It always figures.

Valefor is just the worst. How dare someone so pretty be so disgusting. He even makes the muzzle, blinders, and restraints look kinda- no! Ugh! Bad Saki!

Tilting his head at the sound of the door opening, the skinny twenty-something manages a chuff of a laugh.

...

Taking a steadying breath, you nod to yourself after shoving down all those thoughts and give a quick glance to your PRT Trooper guides and leave them behind as you enter the cell - the door swishing shut immediately behind you.

Lord Grasp hops off your shoulder with a menacing grumble, expanding as he does so until his 'tiny car' sized form takes up most of the free space in the room when he lands halfway on the bed and halfway up the wall. With a bit more force than is necessary, he grabs the orange-jumpsuit-clad deviant in both gilded pincers and holds him up in the air so that you can take his seat on the bed for yourself.

He struggles and grunts for a few seconds at being manhandled, but after not even budging Lord Grasp's… grasp on him in the slightest he eventually sighs and goes limp.

He knows what's coming, anyway.

You raise your left hand to your mouth and politely clear your throat. Might as well get started.

"Ward member Tatsu beginning interrogation of Elijah Mathers, alias 'Valefor'," you begin clearly, following the script the PRT has given you. "Given the ongoing threat posed by victims still under the influence of Mr. Mathers' ability and the time-critical nature of this ongoing conflict within the city, Mr. Mathers is considered to still be an active combatant that is resisting lawful arrest. Proceeding with application of Interrogation Spur in the hope of obtaining details on remaining victims within the Greater Philadelphia area."

The PRT don't think that you calling it Personality Override Spike would look very good if this ever got played in court. And you've gotten the hint that you should never mention your Transcendent Brutality Programming charm on the record.

Valefor stiffens for a split second before resuming his struggles, making a strangled grunt of desperate protest… not that the cameras and microphones can tell, what with your RIA making him sound like he's trying to curse you out.

That wasn't in the script, but you think it adds flair to the scene.

With Lord Grap still holding him vertically in front of you, you briefly consider where to actually strike him with the charm. PRT testing showed it worked even simply piercing a target's pinky finger (and it was super creepy how the spike never poked out the other side, no matter how deep it went), and Cauldron testing revealed that the 'hit' didn't leave lingering damage even when piercing the spine or brain. His hands and legs are bound at the wrists and ankles, but… he's being difficult.

Balling your right hand into a fist, you drive the chopstick-long soulsteel spike into his left thigh. The sturdy jumpsuit providing a hint of resistance before the needle pushes through, but there's not even a hint of trouble as the spike pushes through his pale skin and wiry muscle.

But even as your knuckles strike home against his leg, you feel as if your momentum is still carrying you forward… despite your physical body remaining perfectly still. It's a feeling you're still not entirely used to, partially because you recognize that part of you is flowing out and into him-

Dozens of practice sessions allows you to ignore the innuendo and focus, twisting your spiritual extension into a vice-like grip. Whatever pale shade of a resistance Valefor might have been able to put up if he had a real soul is crushed-

You blink.

Your family rented the movie Deliverance two years ago because Sakura wanted to see the famous 'dueling banjos' scene. While the rest of the movie had been… distressing… and your parents had stopped the movie early, the living conditions in that movie had stuck with you as what you imagined rural American living must be like: rustic, down-to-earth homes of wood and brick surrounded by deep forest, and without most of the modern amenities like, TV, Internet, and indoor plumbing.

Though the world around you now is hazy - as if built from a flickering, shifting, half-solid mist - it still resembles the weathered wooden porch from which that boy played his banjo. Except instead of a single rocking chair facing out into the deep autumnal forest beyond, there are two.

Valefor regards you with narrowed eyes, bent forward slightly in his chair as he rests his chin on his clasped hands. After a half-second of consideration, he begins to open his mouth-

"Ah, ah, ah," the old woman in the chair to his left tuts, holding up her hand to cut him off. She's smiling at you, but this time it's strained and doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"You had your turn. Let Mama do the talking now."


***

 

[Gromweld]

Chapter 10.6
(Part 8)​

***


This "Mama" figment was present in your previous interrogation of Valefor - at the scene of the crime where Aisha caught him - but as odd as her presence had been then, she had largely remained quiet save for humming a bit and being… handsy with your mental projection within this mindscape. Patting your shoulder and hand, humming absently at the memories of Valefor's actions in Philly that you dragged up; you'd been weirded out by how affectionate she was being to you despite the fact that Valefor's own mental avatar had called out to her for help several times, but she'd she hadn't spoken a word for the brief time you'd been in his head.

But the weirdest thing was that your charm didn't appear to affect her, at least directly; you normally have nearly full control of the mindscape's shape, but a few absent attempts with the POS's primary function to reform the mental 'waiting room' without her did nothing. Instead, you'd gotten the distinct impression she wasn't a part of his mind, but rather that she was - like you - simply visiting.

You had noted all this during your debrief, but while it had raised some eyebrows and generated some concern there hadn't been much of an immediate response. Only after it had been passed up the chain of command did you receive an immediate order to return from vacation and give a full break-down of everything she'd said and done. In return, you'd been cleared for an ominous explanation of what little the PRT actually knows about "Mama Mathers."

"Anyone that ever sees her goes insane. Thinkers that even try to observe or perceive her go insane. She is why we haven't brought the hammer down on the Fallen; any attempts at scouting them out risk the scouts' lives, and it's understood now that she knows when she's been perceived so they have enough warning to prepare or move."

Thankfully, the PRT's past track record with Mama Mathers indicates that you would have noticed her trying to Master you by now - you weren't forced into Master/Stranger quarantine, but Director Uriel held you back from going back into his head until this afternoon just to be on the safe side. Still, the general consensus (without Taylor's confirmation) is that your Industrial Survival Frame is yet again proving to be the most useful defensive Charm in your arsenal.

You feel so many random, light 'ping's against against your ISF these days that you have to agree.

With all that known, the decision had come down from the Chief-Director to push your advantage… and with everything you uncovered in your quick interrogation last time, your standing order to 'look, don't touch' had been rescinded.

"Not that we can see what goes on in there. Just..." Uriel had sighed, deliberately keeping his eyes on his computer screen as he shooed you out with a wave. "Be careful fighting monsters."

Frowning, you ignore Mama Mather's attempt to take control of the conversation and swipe your left hand in a wide gesture... and push.

The mountains, the trees, the house, the chairs… even your own avatar's body, it all falls apart and disperses into empty mist that leaves only behind an empty, endless white void. Valefor's mental avatar also loses much of its coherence, his expression fading from anger, to shock, to finally a half-conscious blank stare into the nothingness beyond. Here, now, in the Personality Override Spike's most primitive, most basic mindscape, only one thing remains solid.

"Ah-!"

The weathered fifty-something woman half-stands, half-floats in the white abyss, the abruptness of the scenery change fluttering her baggy green dress as she tries to 'steady' herself by clutching onto - and into - the shoulder of Valefor's avatar. Her arm find purchase somewhere in his murky form's chest, which she uses as an anchor briefly before casting her head around to look for-

"You," she hisses, cold blue eyes darting back and forth with a manic hatred. "What're you doin' t' my boy, you abomination?"

Creating an avatar for yourself had mostly been to make it easy to keep a single point of view, and a scene something for it to stand within. Now, bodiless in an empty void, you're sort of… everywhere and nowhere. It's distracting for you, but it's probably even worse for her when your reality-shaking voice comes from all directions.

"ANYTHING I WANT."

Her eyes go wide for a split-second, but then she sneers into the void with a mouthful of yellowed teeth…

… only for the sneer to quickly turn into a wicked grin.

"Me first."

Then she turns, unhinges her jaw, and blasts apart the wispy countours of Valefor's head with a soul-rending scream. The rest of his body quickly follows, with the colors and definition of the hazy avatar billowing away until all that's left is a vague colorless mist in the rough shape of a human where once floated Valefor's self-image.

As her scream dies off, Mama Mathers clicks her oversized jaw shut with a smug, ear-to-ear grin as she turns away from the empty husk of her son to stare out into the void that is you.

"Sorry, dearie. Just needed 'ta discipline 'im first."

...

You don't have a face, but you mentally adopt a flat, unimpressed expression that you make sure comes across in your tone.

"AM I SUPPOSED TO BE IMPRESSED?"

Her grin - and one of her eyes - twitches. She opens her mouth to respond, but you decide that showing is better than telling, here.

Reaching out first through the core POS Charm, you create a solid glass box around Valefor's empty mental husk - ejecting Mama Mathers' arm from it in the process, sending her spinning away in the void briefly before her image twists and distorts until she's motionless and stand-floating 'upright' again with a furious expression.

"ANYTHING YOU CAN DO…"

Then, since you just watched it all happen, you toggle the charm's Memory Implantation Surge submod and simply… rewind.

"I CAN DO BETTER."

You're not one to enjoy teasing people too much - that's Aisha's job - but… you can make a few exceptions here and there. Her rage-filled scream would be making you smile, if you could.

And really, she should be mad - if she'd done that to him when you hadn't been in the mindscape, you're not sure if your Charm would have been able to pull off a full restoration of Valefor's mind. If what she did is anything like how the Simurgh twisted Mannequin's mind (and Contessa making you stick your Spike into a brain in a jar was blech)? Your Charm can see if a person's mind and memory has been altered, but… well...

If they don't have a soul and it's not a recent change, your Charm can't really tell what was there before. You can make guesses based on context, but it's fuzzy at best - Armsmaster was lucky you were right there, and even then you weren't entirely sure how much the Simurgh twisted things.

Not that you're going to tell her any of that, of course. Still, despite the front you're putting up that was probably one of the more terrifying things you've seen. How did she do that? Judging by the little shapeshifting tricks she's doing now, she probably has control of what she looks like - the PRT said people were going insane, seeing and hearing things, sometimes even losing bits and pieces of their memories…

There was definitely no mention of people getting their minds blasted apart!

Your first plan to deal with her (if she was still here) was based on a faint idea: that maybe wiping out Valefor's memory of his mother might wipe out whatever hooks she has into his mind. But if she just wiped out his whole brain and she's still here then that obviously isn't going to work as a cure - for him or for anyone she's affected before-

The screaming, cursing form of Mama Mathers warps and expands, her human body unravelling into a gigantic, nightmarish horror that hurts to look at as she throws herself at Valefor's rematerializing form, passing straight through the box you made and tearing into his mind once again.

… You know what? Forget the other back-up plans! You're jumping straight to the experimental big gun that hasn't been tried yet!

For a brief, split second you focus your intent, causing a copy of your Alchemical body - in Maximum Hotness mode - to materialize next to the massive, reality-tearing horror that is Mama Mathers-

-and then your avatar drives a Personality Override Spike into her.

And pulls.

The Mind-Ripping Probe submod twists, and in your mind you feel… a hollowness, a wrongness. One of its functions is to absorb spirits, not… whatever the Void this thing is.

You don't care! It's like a spirit, and you want it gone!

Gritting your avatar's teeth, you can feel the entire mindscape bend and warp around the jet-black spike as you pull… and pull… and pull…


For a brief, torturous moment, it feels like you're trying to drag a mountain through a straw-


-and then there's a snap, a crystalline shattering as something gives way, and Mama Mathers' fractal, fleshy body implodes and disappears into the Spike with a twisting pull of shattered reality.

Your avatar is sweaty and panting, you feel like you just spent ten hours being tossed around the training grounds by Bladedancer, but at least you…

… wait. Shards. Oh, Maker, what did you just-?

Mentally, you peer into the part of your soul that's attached to your Personality Override Spike. There should be… huh? Nothing? Where-

In the back of your mind, in the depths of your Safe Space, a continent of metal slams down with vindictive finality.

PRISONER PROCESSING: COMPLETE

… uh oh.


***

 

[Gromweld]

"Uh oh" is right! Once again, we are about to see what happens when you succeed too well.

Without giving everything away, Saki did indeed hoover up Mama Mathers' Shard but left Mama herself in Earth-Bet (she's not a spirit). Given the mechanics of Shards, that means anyone with even a weak link to her power is having a Bad Time. I'll leave it up to others to extrapolate the full extent of what that means for now, but suffice to say that many, many people have just been affected by the Africa-sized mass of crystalline flesh being ripped out of its reality, flailing and screaming all the way.

While Saki technically has the tools to run damage control on this mess herself, she generally looks to others for guidance when the waste management chute empties into the rotary blades - when the full scope of what's occurred begins to dawn on her, to whom should Saki turn?


Overwhelming Success Management: (Choose ONE, NO STUNT)
[ ] End Taylor's Vacation, Work With Taylor First
[ ] Taylor's On Vacation, Work With Cauldron First
[ ] Taylor's On Vacation, Work With Director Uriel First
[ ] Taylor's On Vacation, Work With Local Assembly And Read-In Allies First

VOTING CLOSES:
Oct 6, 2019 at 7:00 PM ​