Gestalt, A Worm x PMMM Faux-quest

Dalek Ix · Jun 29, 2021

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Gestalt
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You are Rachel, and you're a magical girl full of regret. Specifically, you regret making your wish and getting your costume before you realized that your brother was, perhaps, the biggest dummy who ever lived.

In your defence, you really had no way of knowing it. After your- after That happened, he'd really stepped up. Getting a job, taking you to school, generally being there for you and mom... Your naive past self had thought the world of your big bro. He was the best, and you'd punch anyone who said otherwise in the mouth.

So of course you'd followed along with everything he said, and listened intently when he described what he and his friends were doing to protect the neighborhood from Bad People. And, of course, when Kyuubey (or was it Cubey?) came along... well, you couldn't say yes to the fluffball fast enough!

It wasn't until your mom had caught you practicing your attack names and, white-faced, taken you aside to tell you all the other things that your brother hadn't told you, that you learned that people didn't really associate the Empire 88 with the Good Guys, and your big brother was a massive, massive dummy.

That had... not been a good week. You very carefully not think about it.

Regardless, you're now stuck with the costume your impressionable, naive younger self thought looked cool; starting from the bottom, you're wearing shiny black boots and leggings, and a smooth, grey skirt that goes down to your knees at the front and your... calves? at the back, secured by a fancy black belt with shiny silver bits. Above that, a comfy white button-up shirt, and over that, a very fancy grey coat with black and silver trimmings that everyone who wasn't a massive dummy would immediately realize to be the sort that Bad Guys wear.

You sigh, and glare at your reflection in the mirror. You tug at the shoulder things, and feel a small victory seeing that all the really bad symbols are finally gone. Kyuubey had warned you that changing your costume would not be a quick and easy thing to do, especially since your wish wasn't suited. But, bit by bit, you were turning your outfit into something less. Well. Evil. Yay.

[-] Continue changing your outfit.
[-] Go out to hunt.
[-] Turn back.

[X] Go out to hunt

You open the window. It had previously been rusted shut, probably since before you were born, but as a Magical girl it had only taken you a bit of elbow grease (and some generous application of oil) for you to correct that. It still takes a bit of finagling to get it open, but soon it is, and you slip outside, pulling it closed behind you before you jump from the small ledge there to the roof of the building behind yours.

You kinda like your territory. It's not so big that it's annoying to patrol, and you have the dubious honour of laying claim to Winslow High. A part of you wonders why a high school is such a massive Witch magnet. The rest of you is really happy you don't go there.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, your mind starts to wonder...

[-] Think about your family.
[-] Think about your lifestyle.
[-] Think about capes.
[-] Think about other Magical Girls.

[X] Think about your family.

You'd rather not.

Your mom is... You think she's doing better, but she still doesn't go out of her room very often. Your big brother is still a massive dummy who you will never forgive for making you get such an awkward Bad Guy costume but he still walks you to school and cooks meals and goes to work and tucks you in at night and- And. You don't know. You don't know what to think.

You very carefully don't think about your d- about Him.

Your Soul Gem is a little darker, now.

[X] Think about other Magical Girls.

Your neighbors and peers are... They're alright. You think. You're pretty sure they didn't believe you when you told them that your stupid outfit was your stupid brother's fault and you are not a Nasty. Nazi.

Regardless, other than the initial 'lets scare the new girl' routine, they've kept to themselves, although there's a particular pair who keep fighting each other. It wouldn't be nearly as annoying if they didn't do it through telepathy and wake up every other magical girl in Brockton Bay at 3 A.M. and didn't stop untill everyone else was threatening to stab/shoot/cut/blast them.

[X] Think about capes.

You... guess that you ought to be on the same side of the Protectorate, awkward costume nonwithstanding? Then again, Kyuubey warned you that revealing yourself to them has a very good chance of Not Ending Well.

Kyuubey also seems to not like Capes in general. It doesn't have anything against people who are Capes and has some vaguely-praising things to say about Armsmaster if you ask, but it always goes into a little rant about where their powers come from. And for the love of everything good, never try to compare being a cape with being a Magical Girl.

Personally, you have mixed feelings about Capes. One one hand, Glory Girl is so freaking pretty and Assault is really cool and you most definitely do not have a crush on him shut up and Miss Militia makes you squeal in general because your powers are basically a Magical Girl version of hers and you just know you'd be besties. Once she got over your costume. Maybe. You hope.

On the other hand, all the Protectorate heroes and even the Wards get toys and merch. This makes you, Rachel, Magical Girl and slayer of Witches, very jealous.

Anyways, enough about that.

[-] You reach Winslow High
[-] Speaking of Glory Girl...

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Inspired a little by the faux-Quest structure of Subsumption. Just like it, this isn't actually a quest, although I don't mind people discussing the "votes".

Dalek Ix · Jun 29, 2021

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Gestalt
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[X] You reach Winslow High

Moving over the rooftops looks cool, because being able to disregard silly things like "roads" and "crosswalks" and "traffic" by not-quite-flying over it all is Cool. It is part of the definition of Cool, and anyone who didn't think so was objectively wrong.

It is also a lot harder than you'd think and something of an adquired skill. For one, being able to jump several blocks at a time didn't necessarily mean you'd land where you wanted to without at least some ability to aim. Not to mention how slippery snow and ice could make your destination and your takeoff point; you knew from painful experience that it was entirely possible to slip when taking a jump and end up flat on your face.

For another, capes also use the rooftops. And as much as you think Glory Girl is incredibly pretty and want to have several things autographed by her, you'd rather not have her spot you while you're out hunting, even if you had a less villainous costume. New Wave isn't the Protectorate, but...

... hold on.

<<Hey, Kyuubey?>>

<<Yes, Rachel?>> The "cheerful" voice answers.

<<You told me that showing myself to the Protectorate capes was a bad idea, but what about New Wave?>>

<<Unknown,>> the stuffed catrabbit thing replies, from... somewhere, <<New Wave is a relatively new parahuman organization compared to the Parahuman Response Team, and so there is no data on what their response to a Magical Girl would be.>>

You feel hope.

<<So, theoretically...>>

<<However, Glory Girl is statistically likely to "Shoot First" if she believes she is facing what she thinks is a "villain",>> Kyuubey ruthlessly plows over your hopes and dreams. <<Furthermore, as New Waves believes in accountability and transparency above all else, it's not out of the realm of possibility that they might desire that your identity be revealed to the public at large if you were to join them,>> he adds, sowing salt for good measure.

You peer over the aircon unit you're hiding behind at the retreating figure of Glory Girl and grumble at the unfairness of it all.

==========

You are so happy you do not go to Winslow, and every time you come here you remind yourself of this. You cast a tired eye at the collection of gang tags on the walls of the school; the janitors hadn't even bothered to do anything about them over winter break, and you suspect that they only applied a fresh coat of paint after several layers of spray paint had accumulated.

But that's just the surface. The parts that anyone can see. As a magical girl, you're treated to a little extra, because of course you do. The building seems to be in a miasma of despair and hopelessness, the weight of which settles on shoulders in a way that makes you shudder. You sometimes wonder what the hell happened here to make it this way, but you're not in a hurry to find out.

Either way, Winslow's depressing atmosphere attracts Witches like moths to a lamp, which means that it's always a good idea to check here first; starting a hunt with some guaranteed success was always a good thing.

"To work, to work," you sigh, and head to one of the side doors. You place your gloved hand on it and are about to use your magic to tease the lock open when the door just swings open on it's own.

You hope that it's just a janitor who forgot to lock up after themselves, but you just know that that's not the case. Someone else is in here.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, count to ten, and summon your magical weapon in a flash of greyish blue light; the utterly massive machinegun-spear thing settles into your arms, engravings glinting in the low light.

<<Alright, who snuck into Winslow this time?!>> you snap over telepathy, shoving the door open and stepping into the school.

It takes a moment for the replies to come in.

<<Jesus fuck, could you give a little warning before you scream into my brain!?>>

<>

Those are the couple which are always fighting at every opportunity. Anna and Andrea.

<<Hey, at least she's asking us first!>> A laugh; Sarah, her name is, and she's more of a joker. <<That means that she's open to the possibility of it not being Ze Joos~!>>

You groan. "Give me strength," you mutter.

<<How do you even... Whatever! It's not the Jews, it's never been the Jews and I've never said it was the Jews in my entire life! Someone broke into Winslow again and I wanna know which of you jerks did it!>>

<<And why should any of us answer that, you goose-stepping freak?>> That was Anna, and you can feel the sneer.

Because Winslow is my territory and the only reason you can hunt here too is because I let you.

You grind your teeth. Winslow is yours, yes, but it's such a Witch magnet that you don't terribly mind the others popping over to grab a seed or two, so long as they ask first. Because you're a good person. And a good person shares, even if she would be perfectly justified in turning certain freeloading, poaching jerks into swiss cheese-

<<Girls, girls!>> Sarah chimes in again, <<Please, calm thine tits; it's a little too early in the night to start losing neighbours.>> A pause. <<And to answer you, Rachel; I've been busy with the hospital for the last week or so, and you know I always ask.>> A pause. <<And I happen to know that the usual suspects haven't been there since you last caught them. Not even Annie!>>

<<That's because she stole half my stockpile!>> Andrea hissed.

<<You told me I'd have a share!>>

<>

<<You did not you little-!>>

You try your best to tune them out. <<How am I supposed to believe that?>> you shoot back at Sarah, moving deeper into the school, towards some faint voices you can hear somewhere in the building, <<All I have is your word.>>

<<You're right!>> Sarah gleefuly agrees, <<So let's ask our favorite faustian fluffball; Cubes!>>

<<Sarah is correct,>> the voice of Kyuubey pipes in, <<There have been no magical girls at Winslow High since you interrupted Andrea, yourself excluded.>>

There's a pause.

<<... I could've asked you this,>> You state, groaning as you bury your face in your left hand, Sarah laughing her ass off over telepathy even as the other two continue to bicker, <>

You hear giggles, and you freeze. You can hear them getting louder, closer.

<<... Kyuubey, who else is in here?>>

<<Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess,>> it answers you, <<Both are students at this institution.>> A pause. <<Sophia Hess is also a Ward of the Protectorate, known as "Shadow Stalker".>>

"Oh fuck me."

[-] Hide!

[-] Confront them!

Dalek Ix · Jun 29, 2021

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Gestalt
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[X] Hide!

You have no idea what a Ward is doing in her own school this late at night, especially during winter break. You also have no idea why they decided to bring someone who isn't a cape with them.

Are you interested in finding out? Maybe. It is your territory, and you prefer to know what the heck is going on, especially since you come here damn near every night.

On the other hand, you're also not particularly interested in running afoul of someone who is a professional superhero while in your particular Magical Girl outfit. Cape powers could be bullshit, and while you can't quite recall the Wards' powersets as easily as those of the "Main" Protectorate heroes, you know the way your luck runs.

And even if Shadow Stalker was friendly... Kyubey hadn't had any particularly encouraging things to say about what happened to magical girls who came into contact with the PRT.

And so you do the rational, sensible thing and duck into the first door you can find; not even having to use your magic to unlock the door. You end up in a staff room, you think, the door opened up a crack so you can see. Just in time, too, because you spot two girls heading down the hallway you were just inside of.

Your first reaction is that the redhead is rather pretty if you ignore the wicked gleam to her eyes and the cruel curve to her smile. Your second, more instinctive one, is that the other girl has to be Shadow Stalker because she's dangerous. And for once you don't feel the need to justify yourself for thinking that; Emma Barnes is clearly up to no good, whatever reason she has to be here, but Sophia Hess has an entirely different aura to her; the way her eyes scan the way ahead, the way she moves silently through the hallway, the expression she has on her face...

"I can't wait to see her face!" you hear Emma Barnes giggle with glee, "Oh, this is gonna be epic!"

... you have a sinking feeling that something awful is afoot. Your right hand reaches into one of the many pockets your costume has and fishes out your cellphone --you'd gotten into the habit of transforming without it on your person specifically so you can use it without having to dismiss your costume-- and turns on the camera app. Holding your breath and forcing the arm holding the phone to stay rock still, you snap a picture.

*click*

Sophia- no, Shadow Stalker's head turns towards the noise of your stupid freaking phone making utterly unnecesary camera shutter noises, because of course whenever you have a good idea something has to come along and fuck it up. Of-freaking-course. You shove the thing back into the pocket you took it from and edge away from the door, trying not to make a sound even as your hands grip your weapon in a low-ready stance. Again, no idea what her powers are, but between the short range and the monstrous fire rate of your weapon, you're reasonably certain that you'd turn anything short of Alexandria into swiss cheese...

... Except then you'd have to deal with, you know, having killed one of the Wards for the crime of breaking into a school you don't even go to. In front of her friend.

You force your heart to slow the heck down and then point your weapon up and away from the door, you incredible idiot. The footsteps grow close, and you hear Emma giggle and cackle some more, before Sophia breaks her silence and joins in with her, although much more low-key. They'd left a "surprise" inside "her" locker, and Emma in particular seems to be looking forward to "her" finding out.

They reach your hiding spot, and then keep walking past it. You keep waiting. You hear the door you all came in through open and then close shut, and the lock turn. You keep waiting, slowly counting to thirty before you allow yourself to breathe again.

<<Hello? Hello? Testing? Earth to Rachel?>>

And then Sarah butts in again through telepathy.

<<That,>> you growl at her, stepping out of the staff room and back into the hallway, <<Was not fun.>>

<<Awww~!>> Anna coos, mockingly, <<Blondie's all scared~!>>

<<... You know,>> you muse, finally starting your hunt for Witches, <>

You can feel her smugness vanish, and allow yourself a smirk.

<<As much as I enjoy your implied death threats,>> Sarah pressed on, <<Could we go back to the issue of "What the heck were those to doing?".>>

<> you tell her, <>

You wish you'd said that with more conviction that you felt. Stupid telepathy.

<<... Why are you interested?>> you fire back at Sarah, hoping to deflect from your own response.

She falls silent for a moment. <<Just... curious,>> she answers, telepathy working to betray her emotions as much as it did yours.

You ignore her, and go back to hunting witches.

...

You ignore her, and go back to hunting witches.

...

You-

<<Okay,>> you grumble into the aether, <<Fine. But I refuse to be part of some clique drama in a school I don't even go to!>>

<<If you don't go there, why the hell is it your territory?!>> Andrea snaps. You don't bother dignifying that with a response, turning on your heels and trotting the way Sophia and Emma had come from, going up the stairs to the second floor. At first, you don't find anything out of the ordinary; neat rows of abused lockers on both walls, interrupted by doors leading into classrooms, everything decorated with gang signs written in sharpie. You're almost about to turn back when the smell hits you.

<<Urk.>>

<<Rachel?>>

<<Nothing!>> you snap at her. There's a faint whiff of something deeply unpleasant in the air, with a faint twang of iron...

You follow it. Down the dark hallways, past the gang signs, past one locker after another untill you find yourself standing in front one which can only be the source. The locker is especially beat up, and taunting, mocking, abusive messages are scawled on it, directed at the owner. Some deep, subconscious part of yourself already knows what this is, but you find your right hand moving towards the padlocklock. Grey-blue light dances on the combination wheel, alinging the mechanism behind it.

You take it off, and pull the locker door open.

[-] You really wish you hadn't.

Dalek Ix · Jun 29, 2021

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Gestalt
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[X] You really wish you hadn't.

You very nearly vomit your dinner. Your weapon clatters to the ground as you bring your gloved hand to your fave, covering your mouth and pinching your nose to block out the smell, but even the mere memory of it is enough to send your stomach twisting, to say nothing of the sight. The locker is full of used pads and tampons and other things you don't recognize and don't want to.

<<WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!>>

While it's not terribly good manners to shout over telepathy, especially at these hours, at this moment you couldn't give less of a damn. What the fuck. What in the name of all that is good and holy is this. This is horrible. This is disgusting. This is, utterly, utterly awful and you hunt nightmare monsters for a living!

Who does this? Who the fuck does this?! How sick in the head do you have to be to do this? What malfunction do you need in the brain to stomach through the effort it would take to pull it off?

You stagger away from The Locker and retch. The fight to keep your dinner inside you is successful only because you remember you can turn off your sense of smell.

<<ARGH!>>

<<Rachel? Rachel?>>

<<What did I say about screaming in other people's heads!?>>

<<Earth to Rachel? Hello?>>

<<Fuck off!>>

<<No, you fuck off!>>

<<...>>

<>

<<QUIET!!>> It shouldn't be possible, but you swear you can feel Sarah's voice bouce around your skull. She has the decency to sould a little sheepish over the link. <<Anyways, Rachel? You there?>>

Deep brea- Shallow breaths! Very tiny shallow breaths!

<<I'm here,>> you answer, <> Your eyes are drawn to The Locker again and you shudder, <<It's awful. It's disgusting.>>

<<What is?>> Sarah asks.

You tell them. Anna and Andrea's skepticism is neatly shut down by Kyuubey, who "helpfully" confirms what you're looking at --you still snap a picture of The Locker with your phone before shutting the door and locking it. You can feel the revulsion through the telepathic link from the two girls. The incredulousness. Even with the Faustian Fluffball backing you up, they still have a hard time believing it.

The only thing you get from Sarah is one question.

<<What locker is it?>> After you rattle off the number, there's a small pause, and then:

<<Oh...>>

<<What do you mean, 'Oh'?>>

Silence.

<<... Sarah? Sarah? You there?>>

You try a few more times, and never get another peep from her. Eventually, you stop trying.

And now, there's the question of... well, what do you do? You'd --repeatedly-- said that you wouldn't get involved in shenanigans at a school you don't even go to. This has nothing to do with you.

You stare at The Locker. The slurs and abuse scawled and scratched all over the metal surface.

Ugly.

Bitch.

The ugliest girl in school.

Why are you still here?

Die!

Freak

Why don't you just die?

You make a decision.

The lockers are small, and attatched to some sort of rack by a few bolts, and the rack itself is anchored to the wall. You force your fingers between The Locker and its neighbors, the thin sheet metal bending easily at your efforts. The smart thing would be to get some supplies from the janitor's closet and clean out the locker that way, but that requires some subtlety your're not in the mood for.

No, what you're in the mood for is brute force, collateral damage, and putting the fear of God into those animals. You want them to know. Know that someone saw what they did. And that that someone is really, really pissed off.

Your hands make handholds in the metal, and the cheap, tiny bolts holding it in the rack snap when you tear the entire, offending thing from its place. The lockers to either side are far from unscathed, but it would take some rather drastic revelations for you to care less about them.

Growling, you make another handhold in the top front edge of The Locker and drag it behind you. You know exactly where to get rid of this...

==========

Your first Witch of the night gets an unwelcome surprise by having a school locker thrown into its two-dimensional, sketch-drawing, ink-spewing excuse for a face. With that out of the way, the hunt begins in earnest.

==========

The morning seems a little brighter. The more cynical part of you suspects that it's all in your head, but you choose to believe that, today, the sun decided to shine a little more on Brockton Bay.

You don't quite float down the stairs to the kitchen on a cloud, but between successfuly getting rid of The Locker, a clean, shining Soul Gem and three new Grief Seeds, there's no hiding your good mood. You don't even give your brother the usual stink-eye when his back is turned, making breakfast for the two of you and mom. He's already dressed for work; crisp white shirt and kahki pants and semi-formal shoes. He works at an accounting firm somewhere downtown; a junior position, but he's said that his bosses think he shows promise.

You almost forget that he's a Nazi. And that some of that 'promise' has as much to do with him sharing your blonde, light-skinned, blue-eyed look as it does hard work. But you can pretend to forget for a little while, and the beam you give him when he ruffles your hair is genuine. Breakfast is pancakes with whipped cream and, in your case, an excessive amount of maple syrup. The two of you eat in silence.

For five minutes.

"... Rachel?"

"Mmhmm?" you mumble around a mouthful. You glance up at him and then do a double-take. Your brother doesn't often look worried about things, at least, not where he thinks you can see him, so seeing that expression on him --lips pursed, eyes not quite meeting yours-- immediately sends your mood down a few notches.

You swallow, and then ask the obvious. "What's wrong?"

It takes a moment for him to answer. He sighs, runs both hands back through his hair, and you can see the moment he decides to be direct.

"I got an e-mail from Clarendon last week; they're not letting you come back after winter break."

Your fork clatters to the table. "WHAT?!" you screech, and then wince when your brother shushes you, a meaningful look towards the stairs. "What?!" you repeat, voice a little lower now, "That's...!"

Deep breaths, Rachel. Big, deep breaths!

"They can't do that!" you hiss, "That's bullshit! My grades are... they're not the best, but they're good!"

"I know," your brother reassures you, "And it's not that, it's..." He sighs, again. "Rachel, what did I tell you about getting into fights?"

And then everything clicks into place. "Oh."

"Yes, 'Oh'," your brother says, voice neutral. He takes out a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, unfolds it, and lays it flat on the table, facing you. You don't need to read it.

Received several complaints from parents involving altercations between their children and Rachel...

...extremely agressive...

... we try to encourage more peaceful ways of resolving conflict...

...has been warned several times...

"Oh," you say, again, sinking into your seat. Everything seems to be still for you, even though a tiny part of your crystaline soul rages at the unfairness of it all.

You never started fights. You ended them.

"... I'm sorry," you say. It doesn't feel nearly enough to even begin to cover how badly you fucked up.

Your brother looks at you with sympathy, and you think you can detect a trace amount of guilt. "I know you mean well," he says, "But... well, not everyone will see it that way, sadly."

The comparison is obvious, and it takes all your willpower not to give your brother the nastiest glare a younger sister has ever given.

Again, he runs his hands through his hair. "Good news is that I was able to find you someplace where you could transfer to on short notice," he continues, "Bad news is that... Well, to be frank, the place is terrible, but I didn't have a lot of options on such short notice." A small smile. "Hopefully, it'll be temporary, but in the meantime just... bear with it, okay?"

It's moment's like this where you don't even know what to feel like. Happy that your brother isn't piling blaming your for your incredible fuck up and sympathizes with you? Angry that he's comparing your bully-hunting with what his skinhead buddies do? Happy that he so obviously cares about and loves you? Despair at the fact that his love for you will make him work harder for a bunch of Literal Nazis?

You shut your eyes tight and nod, and try to feel nothing at all. "Okay."

You stay silent for a few minutes, and then a nagging question comes to the fore.

"... What's this new place called?" You ask.

Happy that you seem to be accepting this, your brother then answers.

"Winslow High."

...

MOTHERFU-

[-] You hate everything and everyone (Timeskip).
[-] The universe hates you (Timeskip).
[-] You should've known that a day that starts so well would end like this (Timeskip).
[-] ... Well, at least you'll get to watch Those Two when they see what you did to their "prank" (Timeskip).

Dalek Ix · Jun 29, 2021

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Gestalt
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[X] You hate everything and everyone (Timeskip).

You are now standing before the entrance of Winslow High. You've been here before, but usually in the context of Magical Girl Shit, and not in your civvies, with your backpack slung over your right shoulder. And you normally rooftop-hop your way here, not get dropped off by your brother.

(You've struggled with what to think of him since he dropped the bombshell on you. You've been struggling with what to think about him for a long time. You try not to think of him too much, or too deeply. You fill up you Soul Gem more slowly that way.)

You most certainly did not expect to be here as a student at any point of your life. In fact, you were quite happy not to be a student of Witch Central, thank-you-very-much. But, here you are, a freshly minted student of Winslow High.

You hate everything and everyone.

You gaze at the students filing in, and can't even summon the energy to pretend to be surprised at the gang colours being worn by the students; you'd seen more than enough badly-drawn swastikas and pan-asian grafitti in your patrols here to have no doubt about the sort of students which come here. Which was another reason you'd been glad that you didn't study here.

Note the past tense.

Hate. Everything.

You allow yourself to kick the pavement in a way that others might've been tempted to call 'petulant', and trudge towards the main doors, making a point to shoulder through a group of racists having a staredown with a different group of racists.

Fight me. I kill nightmares as a part-time job.

Thankfully, your reason prevails --barely-- and you duck away before either group can get a good look at you. It briefly ocurrs to you that maybe the ABB famboys would be a bigger problem than the Empire fanboys, what with you looking like an aryan stereotype, but you're not gonna put much faith in that.

You push through the doors, and so begins your fist day at Winslow.

==========

Well, not really. First, there's some administrative stuff to do. Present yourself to the Principal --Ms. Blackwell, a blonde, narrow woman who dressed as if she were going to a funeral after work--, get your class schedule, agree to follow the school rules (you read as far as "4.- Hate Groups and Gangs", which says that the students are most definitely not allowed to be in the gangs a good proportion of them are junior members of, and try not to look up from the paper), get your locker combination and locker...

Oh. Speaking of which.

You climb up to the second floor to reach your locker, and note that there's a commotion some ways away, a small crowd of students gathered around where The Locker used to be. Standing some ways away, you spot Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess, plus another girl --a brunette. Emma was fuming, fidgeting in place and glaring at the crowd, which forced you to hide the smile creeping into your face. Brunette looked nervous; she seemed to be friends with the other two, from the way she stood with them, but the fact that she hadn't been with Emma and Sophia for The Locker was telling.

Shadow Stalker was... calm. She looked to be waiting patiently, her eyes scanning over the crowd, and there was something unfathomable about her expression. Or maybe not so unfathomable.

You'd made the same face when you'd discovered Anna poaching Witches on your territory. The comparison disturbs you, and you wish you hadn't made it. In fact, you immediately discard it; it's ridiculous.

You turn towards where they're all looking at. Through the small crowd, you see someone standing still as other students come and go. Tall, gangly, with long, curly black hair.

Two things occurr to you. First, that this might possibly be The Locker's owner.

Second, that you tore this girl's locker from the wall and threw it a dimension of misery and nightmares.

And now she has no locker.

You suddenly feel like banging your head against your own locker, because God in Heaven you are a moron.

[-] Leave. Leave now. Forget about this. Forget about this with every fibre of your being. You saved her from The Locker. That's enough.

[-] You are, in fact, responsible for this, even though you did save this girl from The Locker. It would be better if you didn't actually tell her that, though, what with you doing it while doing Magical Girl Shit.
-[-] You need to be subtle about it, though! Watch her closely. See where she goes when the bell rings. Ask around. Put your ear on the floor; someone's gotta be talking about a locker being torn out of the wall. Approach her during lunch, casually.
-[-] You are as subtle as a bag of hammers. Accept it. Embrace it. Go over there and say hi, like the clueless new girl that you actually are. Nobody will suspect a thing.

Dalek Ix · Jul 2, 2021

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Gestalt
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[X] You are, in fact, responsible for this, even though you did save this girl from The Locker. It would be better if you didn't actually tell her that, though, what with you doing it while doing Magical Girl Shit.
- [X] You are as subtle as a bag of hammers. Accept it. Embrace it. Go over there and say hi, like the clueless new girl that you actually are. Nobody will suspect a thing.

You consider the option of Subtlety. After all, Bluntness was what got you into this mess, since you decided that the best way to deal with The Locker was to tear it off the rack, and throw it into a Witch's face. You do this very briefly becase, lets be honest, Subtlety isn't something which gives you the warm fuzzies. Your preferred path from A to B is a neat, straight line, your magical weapon is a machine gun with a ludicrious fire rate, and your prefered method of problem solving is to apply your fists to the problem until it agrees to fuck off. It helps that you do not look like someone who could knock someone twice your weight into the ground.

Although considering that punching problems landed you in Winslow in the first place... er, nevermind. You got this. Besides, your plan requires no violence at all! Hopefully!

You stuff your stuff into the locker and, armed with naught but your utter cluelessness, you mosey over to the gawking crowd. You sort of gently shove your way to the front, and find yourself right next to The Locker's owner.

She's taller than you (which isn't that uncommon; you yourself are on the short side of things), and her clothing is dark, plain and modest; the wardrobe of someone trying very hard not to stand out. She wears square-rimmed glasses, and her eyes are quite wide and expressive.

And right now, they're expressing a sentiment you're quite familiar with. "Fuck this," they say, "Fuck this entire day. This is a low I didn't even think was possible. This is rock bottom and I can already hear my life reaching for the dynamite to keep digging."

It's a very specific sentiment.

You stiffle a wince; after all, you're the reason this girl's day suddenly got a hundred times worse --and judging from her expression, her days suddenly getting worse isn't exactly an uncommon occurence, which doesn't exactly help. And yes, you saved her from The Locker, but it's not like you can just tell her that.

Second rule of doing Magical Girl Shit; "Don't tell anyone about doing Magical Girl Shit".

You glance away from --you refuse to call her "Locker Girl"-- your new future friend, and examine the damage again. It's just like it was when you left it, and you make the appropiate noises of surprise and shock at the damage you caused.

"So, uh," you start, giving your new future friend a nudge on the elbow, making the other girl start and turn towards you. "Does this happen often?"

She stares at you. Excellent. You have her undivided attention.

You smile. Time for some introductions! "Hi! I'm Rachel Zoranski; this is my first day here at Winslow!" you chirp, "What's your name?"

"Taylor," the girl blurts out, inching back a little at your forwardness. "Taylor He-" She shakes herself. "Listen-"

"Was that one yours?" you ask, inching forward, giving the empty spot on the rack a meaningful look.

"Yes," Taylor forces out, that one word heavy with frustration. "Now-"

"Oh, by the way!" you cheerfully interrupt her again, "What class do you have next?" You shrug off your backpack and start to digging through it, looking for the schedule, "I have no idea where all the classrooms are, so I was wondering-"

"Drop the fucking act, okay?!"

You stop, jerking away from Taylor's sudden outburst. The other girl's glare drops a moment after seeing your expression, and a very complicated series of emotions fly across her face in a very short amount of time. Regret. Longing. Despair. And, at the end, resigned acceptance.

"Just... leave me alone," Taylor tells you, voice dull. She looks exhausted. "It'll make your life much easier if you do."

Without another word, she shoves past the crowd and leaves, shoulders hunched. The crowd mutters in her wake, and you stare at Taylor's retreating form. Your fingers twitch. Well, that could've gone a lot better, but at least you have a name. You're gonna count that as progress.

Shortly after, Principal Blackwell arrives with maintenance personell (read: a single old, hollow-eyed janitor). Yellow caution tape is appiled to the area, statements are made for assigning 'temporary locker space', and the woman instructs the students to clear the area and prepare for class, the students grudgingly following through.

You do the same. You find your schedule in your backpack and only have to glance at the room number to know where to go. You've here practically every night, after all.

Orienting yourself, you start walking. Math is first, then History (yay) then Lunch. You'll keep on the lookout for Taylor; the girl clearly has issues --not that you blame her for them-- but you can be very persistent. In a contest between terrible coping methods and unrelenting effort, the-

Something out of the corner of your eye. Left side. Your step becomes a hop backwards, and a hand just barely misses the spot where your shoulder was. Shadow Stalker and you blink at each other for a moment; she clearly hadn't been expecting you to react so fast, and you definitely hadn't been expecting to run into her so quickly; maybe corner you during lunch or something. Or while you were in the bathroom.

Welp, guess we're doing this now!

Shadow Stalker and you stare at each other. Her eyes narrow. Yours do the same, the thumb of your right hand rubbing the ring you're wearing on your middle finger.

You remember watching a nature documentary. It had a segment about how predatory animals behave upon encountering each other for the first time. This is a lot like that.

The other two girls gawk at Shadow Stalker and you for a moment. Emma's the first to collect herself; her smile is a nasty thing, 100% pure, distilled Alpha Bitch. You hate her immediately.

"Oh, you must be new here," she speaks, voice tinged with faux-sweetness. Her currently-unnamed friend snaps out of it and moves to support her.

"I am," you tell Emma.

"I'm Emma," Emma introduces herself, and gestures at her flunkies, adding, "and this is Sophia and Madison"

"Name's Rachel," you answer.

"Think of us as Winslow's welcoming comittee," Madison giggles. The three of them are arranged so that you're pressed between them and the lockers to your right. You stay exactly where you are. Something clicks in you head, and you realize what Shadow Stalker had been trying to do.

"You know, throwing people against the lockers is a funny way to welcome people," you snark at them, still keeping most of your attention on Shadow Stalker. You decide to just get on with this. "Alright," you tell them, arms crossed, "I've done this song and dance before; You three are the queen bees, and I'm the lowly newcomer nobody. Let's skip the posturing and just say what you want to say."

Madison looks a little taken aback, but Emma just looks vaguely annoyed. "I'd watch your mouth, shorty," the redhead tells you, warningly, "but if you insist..." An acid smile. "That girl you were talking to? Taylor Hebert?"

You have a sneaking suspicion about where this is going. "What about her?" you ask, as if you didn't.

Emma leans forward. "Well, here in Winslow, we have a few rules about her," she tells you, words dripping with poisoned honey. "They're not written down anywhere, but everyone understands that it's better to follow them."

Translation: this is something we've the other students into doing.

"Those rules are; Taylor does not exist." Emma tells you. "And since you can't talk to someone who doesn't exist, then it's best if you don't try. And if you hear someone who doesn't exist... well, it's best to just ignore that, hmm? Wouldn't want people to think you're crazy."

Ah. So that's how it is.

"Think you can follow the rules?" Madison pipes up.

You've seen this before. Maybe not this specific little 'trick' of Emma's, but you recognize what she's done here. Isolation. Exclusion. Cutting off avenues of escape, and relief one by one, until the only ones left are... less than reasonable. You have to wonder how she got so much of the school to go along with her.
[-] Pretend to go along with it. Feign interest. Share a little. Ask questions. Pretend to be impressed.
[-] Remember what you promised yourself. No. Not even as a lie.
-[-] "No."
-[-] "Nah."
-[-] "I do what I want."
--[-] "Also, fuck you."

Emma? Emma is nothing. Shadow Stalker is the real threat of the three.
[-] You recognize that half-crouch stance. That look. She does not hunt like you do, but she fancies herself a hunter all the same. She might not know exactly what you are, but she knows there's something more to you.
-[-] Stare her down. Assert dominance. You are a hunter of nightmares. Show her that the food chain has been rearranged.
-[-] Even better; get under her skin. Ignore her. Dismiss her.
[-] This dominance thing is wierd. Let's not do that.

Dalek Ix · Jul 5, 2021

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Gestalt
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Emma? Emma is nothing. Shadow Stalker is the real threat of the three.
[X] You recognize that half-crouch stance. That look. She does not hunt like you do, but she fancies herself a hunter all the same. She might not know exactly what you are, but she knows there's something more to you.
-[X] Stare her down. Assert dominance. You are a hunter of nightmares. Show her that the food chain has been rearranged.

For the moment, you ignore Emma and Madison a little more than you already are. Instead, you focus on Shadow Stalker.

She's an athletic-looking girl, you realize, seeing her from this close. Lean. Fit. Runner's build, probably on the track team. On the surface, there's nothing to indicate that she's anything more than a jock with two 'X' chromosomes, a nasty attitude and a worse taste for friends. The physical muscle to back up Emma's psychological abuse.

But... maybe it's something to do with your Wish, maybe it's because you've been interacting with other girls who hunt nightmare monsters for a living, maybe it's some intuition that has nothing to do with being a Puella Magi at all, something from before. You're not sure why, but you just

Know

that there's something more to Shadow Stalker. You don't even think of her as "Sophia Hess", you realize.

Shadow Stalker is looking at you intently. Her posture is smultaneously relaxed, but wired; coiled up and ready to strike at the least sign of weakness. She's closer than the other girls, making your lack of verticality all the more apparent; an obvious blow, but you've gotten over being short a long time ago. You've seen this before.

A hunter. Sizing up a newcomer. Testing you. Seeing where you go in the food chain. Are you predator, or prey? Someone to be wary off, or someone beneath her? She'd make a good Puella Magi, if Kyuubey had gotten to her.

Don't let her think of you as weak. She's that kind of person.

You step forward. Back straight. Your hands twitch; you've been a Magical Girl long enough that your body longs for a weapon in your hands. The ring on your middle finger seems to call for you, your crystaline soul demanding that you transform and show this bitch that this is your turf. Your territory. If she hunts here, it's only if you allow it.

Her eyes narrow at your defiance. Your lips twitch; a flicker of a smile. She's not used to people not backing away from her, and isn't sure how to deal with you. Given she's a Ward, you imagine she hasn't had the chance to go against a real opponent. Not yet.

She's in for a surprise.

"What's wrong?" Emma pipes up, "Never seen a black person before?"

Your staring match with Shadow Stalker comes to a sudden, screeching, catastrophic halt, as you're unpleasantly reminded that she's not the other member of the Bitch Posse in the vicinity. You feel you face go through all sorts of fascinating shades.

"Ye- I mean n- I mean I was just-!" You trip over yourself as your automatic response to trips over itself, ending in a frustrated growl. "Rrrrgh!"

Shadow Stalker smirks.

This isn't over, you communicate with your eyes.

Bitch I know, she communicates with hers.

Giving a small huff, you turn to face Bitch One and Bitch Three next. Emma's smirking at you in a way that makes you want to punch her into next week, and Madison is giggling. You decide that you can't really make an excuse for "We were establishing the Tough Girl pecking order", let alone actually admit to that, so you just raise an eyebrow as if she'd just interrupted you and your reaction to being implied to be racist wasn't to flail around like a moron.

"Hm?" you say.

"The rules, shorty," Emma reminds you, as if speaking to a small child.

Ah. Yes. That. Emma's oh so clever little trick to isolate Taylor.

You've seen this before. Maybe not this specific little 'trick' of Emma's, but you recognize what she's done here. Isolation. Exclusion. Cutting off avenues of escape, and relief one by one, until the only ones left are... less than reasonable. You have to wonder how she got so much of the school to go along with her.
[X] Remember what you promised yourself. No. Not even as a lie.
-[X] "No."
-[X] "I do what I want."
--[X] "Also, fuck you."

You almost want to know how she did it. Shadow Stalker is obviously the physical part of The Trio, Emma would fancy herself the brains, and there must be some reason Madison is kept around besides Girl Posse Tradition. You wonder about the logistics of intimidating the alumni of Winslow High into making one girl a Persona non Grata.

At least, a part of you wants to know. A part of you who speaks Emma's language. You suppose you could, with a touch of butt-kissing, a dab of feigned compliments, and an ounce of acting, wriggle your way into The Trio as a fellow. You could even imagine a sort of double (really tripple) agent sort of thing; pretend to pretend to be Taylor's new friend to further their bullying efforts.

However... You promised, didn't you? And even though it doesn't take a Thinker to know that that would be the ideal plan, and that the course of action you are bound to follow through is a terrible one which will get you in all sorts of trouble and fighting and High School drama you really don't need...

You Promised.

"No," you tell Emma. The smirk slides off of her face, and it is glorious to behold.

"... No?" she parrots, as if she hadn't quite heard you.

"No~," you tell her, a playful lilt to your voice and the most annoying smile you can put on your face, "No, Non, Nein, Nyet, Nah, Nope~!" You clarify for good measure. "I do what I want, and if I wanna talk to the girl on the receiving end of your little bullying campaign, then tough luck." A pause. "Oh, oh that note; fuck you. Now, if you excuse me, I have things of actual importance to do, and it's not talking to Winslow High's Girl Posse; I've had enough of those in my old school, thank you."

"You'll regret this," Emma hisses, eyes alight and hands clenched.

"I'm enjoying this already," you shoot back, and give yourself a little high-five at thinking of that comeback. Using a little of your Puella Magi nature, you duck past Emma and Madison before either of them can make a move towards you; one of the benefits of being so short. You get some distance between you and then, and then look over your shoulder for a little parting shot.

"Oh?" you call back at them, "By they way... Little word of warning: If I find any surprises inside my locker... or Taylor's..." You give a momentary pause, long enough to see Emma and Madison's faces flush, and Shadow Stalker's head snap to stare at you.

You can feel your cheeky demeanour evaporate, and allow the Puella Magi to show through. Emma and Madison take a step back at the look you give them, although you have to give Shadow Stalker credit for not backing down.

"I will change your lives."

You let that hang in the air for a moment, and then turn back forward. You can already imagine the target being painted on your back, and you're certain that the next few weeks of school are going to be hell for you.

Your heart is beating like a drum in your chest, and a grin is splitting your face. For some reason, it doesn't feel like you've made a mistake.

==========

You reach Math class with plenty of time to spare. You push the door open, and stop. And Stare.

Taylor Hebert stares right back at you, from a seat right in the middle row, off to one side. The two of you blink at each other, and you double-check the room number with what's on your printed schedule and yep, this is your room.

Feeling a little optimistic, you flash Taylor a grin and a wave. The other girl just stares at you, eyes dull. Slowly, she turns away, and lowers her head down onto the desk.

You choose to ignore this, and skip into the classroom. Or, well, start to skip into the classroom, before coming to a dead stop at your second, and far more significant surprise. Your jaw drops.

Sarah stares back at you from her seat, dead center of the classroom, looking just as shocked as you feel.

<<...Rachel?>> your fellow Magical Girl sends over telepathy.

<<Sarah!?>> you blurt out over the link.

Um...
[-] <<Excuse me, what the fuck?>>
[-] <<This is your school?>>
[-] <<So, uh, fancy meeting you here?>>
[-] <>

Wait. This makes no sense.
[-] Actually now the way she was acting when you found The Locker makes sense.
[-] Actually, this really doesn't make sense. If this is her school how come she just let you take it as territory?

Dalek Ix · Jul 6, 2021

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Gestalt
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[X] <<So, uh, fancy meeting you here?>>

You did not expect to meet one of your Magical Girl neighbors at Winslow.

... Okay. Correction: You didn't expect to meet one of your Magical Girl neighbors at Winslow during school hours. You've met Anna, Andrea and Sarah here on occasion; the first two usually when they're poaching, and Sarah because you tend to go out to hunt at the same hours.

Needless to say, this is one surprise that you're not expecting. And from the utterly shocked look on Sarah's face, she's in the same boat as you.

<<So,>> so force out into the aether, <<uh, fancy meeting you here?>>

The silence smothers your attempt at levity.

<<Rachel,>> Sarah hisses into the connection, <<What the hell are you doing here!?>>

<<This is my school now,>> you blurt out, and immediately correct, <<As in. I go here now. This is the school I go to.>>

You hear more students approaching, and you fly into action, sitting down between Taylor and Sarah, closer to the former. Sarah pretends to busy herself in a book, and you pretend to be utterly, utterly bored and not show a single thing about the psychic discussion.

<<Since when?!>>

<<Since today!>> you hiss back, shooting Taylor a thumbs-up with all the optimism you seem to lack at the moment. She raises he head just enough to give you a dull, flat look, and then goes back to pretending to be closely inspecting her desk. <<Clarendon kicked me out during winter break, the bastards, and this was all my br- WE. This was all we could find on short notice!>> You give a pointed look at some of the obvious junior gang members shabling into the classroom. <<You think I want to be here!?>>

Sarah does a thing in which she sends the impression of her raising an eyebrow at you over telepathy.

<<... Sorry,>> you mutter back, glancing away from her.

<<... It's fine,>> Sarah sighs over the mental link, closing her book and slipping it into her backpack. She pulls out a notebook, and you scramble to do the same. <<Winslow's a shit school.>>

Understatement of the year.

Yoy drum your fingers on the table, thinking. Between Anna, Andrea and her, Sarah is your "favorite" neighbor. She's a trollish, cackling hyena, who almost never leaves an opportunity to make fun of your unfortunate costume, or your assertive personality, or whatever else she happened to find amusing at the time. But, unlike the other two, she always called you before helping herself to Winslow High, unlike the the shameless poachers-

... Wait.

Wait. This makes no sense.
[X] Actually, this really doesn't make sense. If this is her school how come she just let you take it as territory?

Wait one freaking moment.

<<... this is your school,>> you note, flatly.

<<Mmhmm,>> came the disinterested response.

<<This is your school. You go here for classes.>>

<<Uh-huh.>>

You want to gesture wildly at Sarah. <<And you just. Let me take it. As hunting territory. Even though you ought to have dibs on it. Even though Winslow is a freaking amazing Witch magnet.>>

Sarah hums at you over the mental link. <<Yep~!>> she chirps, <<Sure did!>>

A pause. You shift in your seat. You're sort of aware of The Bitches Three being amongst the students coming into the classroom and taking seats, but you're too busy trying to appear to be the picture of normalcy. It mostly consists of trying not to stare at Sarah like she's grown another head.

<<...Why?>> You hazard to ask.

<<You know, that's a really good question,>> Sarah tells you sagely, <<Really on point. Speaking of good questions, why is Emma Barnes looking at you like she's plotting to murder you during lunch?>>

You want to strangle her.

Glancing around, you catch sight of Emma, a few seats over. She is, indeed, looking quite murderous. You make sure you stare right into her eyes before turning back towards the front of the classroom.

(Out the corner of your eye, you catch sight of Taylor staring at you, expression mostly hidden behind a curtain of wavy dark hair.)

<<She's doing that because I'm being a horrible spoilsport who doesn't play by her rules,>> you tell her.

You can feel her nodding over telepathy. One of these days, you have to figure out to do that. <<Wonderful. How does it feel to commit social suicide on your first day of school?>>

You contain the urge to scoff. <<Oh, come on, she can't possibly have that much of the school under her->>

Right side, close!

Duck under the reaching hand of a passing student. Deflect with your right arm.

<<-thumb.>>

You glance up to catch sight of someone wearing red and green, and features that indicate some level of East or South-East Asian descent. ABB fanboy. He sneers down at you, and swaggers past. Giving a closer look at your other classmates, you see a handful in ABB colors, and you're not getting the warm fuzzies from the way they're looking at you.

Look away. Ignore the smirk on Emma Barne's face. Doubly ignore the way Taylor's no longer looking at you. Deep, deep breaths.

<<... She's got the gangster-wannabe's in her pocket, doesn't she,>> you send Sarah's way, mental voice flat.

<<They're in Madison's, really,>> the other Magical Girl sends back, <>

"So that's what she's for..." you mutter under your breath. Over telepathy, you send, <<Alright, I answered your question, now answer mine, please?>>

<<Well~... You know, such a fascinating question really needs a proper answer->>

<<Sarah.>>

You can feel her mentally rolling her eyes at you. <<Fiiiiiiiine. You're no fun, you know? So, here's the story; Winslow used to be in my territory, but then Anna and Andrea chased me off. Then you arrived and chased them off.>

A pause. The students are seated and the Math's teacher, an older, wiry man with a thin, reedy voice that you're certain must've been trained for decades in the art of lulling people to sleep.

<<Anna's a pain in the neck for me to deal with, Andrea's not that far behind, and together they're awful. Using my shield to block that machinegun of yours and getting in close with my sword... Maybe I can push you off, but then I'd be dealing with them, plus Winslow's right on the edge of what I'm comfortable patrolling.>> A mental shrug from Sarah. <<So eh. Besides, it's not like I really lost Winslow, hm?>>

You... Well, you suppose that makes sense. In fact, that's a rather sensible reason, leaving aside the little fact that now you are the unfortunate one who has to deal with Anna and Andrea. You very carefully don't mention this.

Kyubey then chooses this exact moment to jump onto your desk.

[FORCED] ~QB Time~ ／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

[-] You think you need to establish some ground rules with Sarah. She's not a bad person, and you sort-of trust her, but it's better to lay everything out on the table, especially if you're gonna be seeing more of each other now.
-[-] Speaking of which, maybe you should talk with her a little more? Get to know her better?
[-] You wonder what The Bitches Three did to get the ABB fanboys gunning for you. Besides the fact that you look like an aryan stereotype. Give this a good think during class.
[-] You should check on Taylor. She isn't looking too well.

Dalek Ix · Jul 9, 2021

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Gestalt
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[FORCED] ~QB Time~ ／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

Kyuubey hops onto your desk with a feline grace. It sits down and stares at you unblinkingly with its red eyes, fluffy tail swishing behind him.

It takes a lot of experience to not react to something only you can see, made worse because of Kyuubey's "habit" of showing up out of nowhere. You swear you've seen it come out of places it couldn't possibly be hiding behind, almost cartoon-like.

<<'Sup, Cubes?>> Sarah chirps, casually.

<<Hey Kyuubey,>> you greet the creature, trying to gently shoo it off of your desk so you can start taking notes on the class in a way that doesn't make you look like a crazy person.

(You glance at the whiteboard and blink at seeing several formulae that weren't there before. Oh joy.)

<<Hello, Sarah. Hello Rachel,>> Kyuubey greets you, hopping up onto your left shoulder, weightlessly balancing there. <> it notes.

<<She has,>> Sarah "helpfully" confirms, <<She's also picking a fight with Emma Barnes, her pet Cape, and more junior ABB than you can shake a katana at.>> A pause. A grin. <<All on her first day! Must be that Aryan Superiority I keep hearing about.>>

You take back everything good you've thought about Sarah.

<<Give me strength...>> you mutter into the aether, <<But yes. Making friends with Taylor, and The Bitches Three can go fuck themselves.>> You scowl into your notes, injecting a tiny bit of your Puella Magi nature to catch up to what the teacher is writing on the board. <<Also: Puella Magi. I fight a lot worse than some gangster-wannabes every night. I'm not particularly worried about them.>>

<<And Sophia Hess?>> Kyuubey questioned. <<Are you worried about her?>>

You bite your lip. <<Shadow Stalker is...>> You resist the urge to rub your temple. <<Honestly, she's the one that's actually kinda worrying to me.>>

<<It's not like she can escalate though,>> Sarah points out, <<nobody here's supposed to know she's a cape. So long as you don't go tearing more lockers out of walls, she's limited to "normal" high-school bully shenanigans.>>

<<And yet,>> Kyuubey notes, looking at you, <<Even knowing this information, you are still concerned about a possible confrontation.>>

<<... Yeah,>> you confess, <<She's already doing things she shouldn't be doing under the PRT's nose. What's stopping her from doing some more?>>

Plus, you're pretty sure you've pissed her off enough for her to get a little risky. People like her don't like to be challenged; they live convinced they're at the top of the food chain, and can be quite upset at finding out that that's not the case.

<<So yeah,>> you conclude, <<High school pettyness, plus some wannabe-gangsters, plus a Cape.>> A pause. <<Hooray for me, I guess.>>

<<It would not be outside the realm of possibility for those threats to be negated by complying with Emma Barnes' demands,>> Kyuubey... said. It didn't sound like a suggestion. More an observation.

You scoff mentally. <<Yeah. Maybe. But fuck no.>>

<<Why?>>

Kyuubey's question gives you pause.

<<Why not?>> You shoot back.

<<You are planning to expend considerable effort and resources, with the possibility bodily harm and of escalating confrontation with a Parahuman, for the sake of Taylor Herbert, an individual who you do not have any history, familiar relationship, or share any other social bond besides the bare minimum.>> It's tail flicked. <<You also do not owe her anything, currency or otherwise. From her previous reaction to you, it is apparent that she would prefer you not do this. Taking all that into account; why?>>

You glance at Taylor. She's hunched over her desk, tall body almost shrunk in an attempt to be less noticable.

You've seen people look like that. You don't need to see her face to know what it looks like. You've seen it. Up close.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

You look away. You can't bear to look at her again right now.

<<...Because fuck Emma Barnes, I do what I want,>> you growl into the link. <<Anyway, why are you asking?>>

Kyuubey tilts it's oversized head at you. <<Parahumans are a recent phenomenon,>> it explains, <<We are still examining how they interact with Puella Magi; previous examples have pointed to those interactions being of detrimental value, but we are starting to reconsider that theory.>> The tail flicks. <<Your conflict with Sophia Hess, or "Shadow Stalker", is of great interest to us in this regard.>>

You blink. Once. And then again.

<<... You want to see me fight Shadow Stalker?>> You ask it. It... certainly sounded that way, kind of?

<<Not necessarily,>> Kyuubey corrects you, <<While a violent resolution to the conflict is more in-line with our predictions involving you->>

<<Hey!>> You protest. Sarah cackles like a hyena via the mental link.

<<-a more peaceful resolution is also valid,>> the Incubator continues, <<We will leave that to your discretion, of course.>>

You fume silently. You try to take notes, but between the droning voice of the teacher and the speed at which things are being written and erased on the whiteboard, you decide to completely give up at this point and are waiting for the bell to ring for the next class.

... Although...

[X] You think you need to establish some ground rules with Sarah. She's not a bad person, and you sort-of trust her, but it's better to lay everything out on the table, especially if you're gonna be seeing more of each other now.

<<Okay,>> you start, directing your... thoughts(?) towards Sarah, <<ground rules.>>

<<Yes, my Fuhrer?>>

You. Mustn't. Strangle. Her.

<<Ground. Rules,>> you grind out. <<If we are going to be sharing this school during daylight hours, I would like to have some sort of agreement before anything happens.>>

You can feel the pout. It's uncanny.

<<Your lack of trust wounds me.>>

<> you state, and ignore the dramatic wails Sarah sends into your head, <<Rule one: No Magical Girl Shit during school hours. No Grief Seeds. No Witches. Unless it's vitally important. Let's just be... normal girls, while we're here.>>

<<Normal girls with telepathy, you mean?>> Sarah quips.

You sigh. <<Sure. Yeah. Rule Two: mention my brother out loud to anyone and you will die.>>

<<Harsh. Not even to a girl interested in someone tall, blonde and-?>>

<> you growl.

<<Fiiiiiiiiine.>>

<<That's it,>> You finish, <<Two tiny little rules. That's all I ask.>>

<<But they sound so boring,>> Sarah whines, <<Wait, I've got an idea for one! Rule Three: That little feud you have with Emma? I want in.>>

You pause to consider this.

<<... Why?>> you ask, dreading the answer.

<<School is boring and having front row seats to Rachel vs Winslow High sounds exciting~!>> Sarah chirps.

<<... Why do I get the impression that you're not gonna actually help me?>> you mutter telepathically.

<<You'll have my emotional support,>> Sarah solemnly promises you. <<But yeah, that's my one condition to agreeing to that.>>

<<...>> You try very hard not to make a face. <<... Fine. Whatever.>>

<<And with Cubes as our witness, the deal is sealed,>> Sarah cackles.

<<Your agreement has been noted,>> Kyuubey informs you both, just in time for the bell to ring. He hops off of your shoulder and onto the desk. <<We'll be in touch, Rachel, Sarah.>>

A pause.

<<You as well, Taylor Herbert,>> it adds, and then jumps off of your desk, vanishing just out of sight.

... Wait. What?

Wait, what!?

Slowly, you turn left, to find Taylor Herbert looking right at you. Behind her glasses, her eyes are wide.

<<... Hello?>>

[-] ?????????????????????????
-[-] What the fucking fuck? Since... Since when? How? Kyuubey, you bastard, where the fuck did you run off to!? Come back here right this instant and tell me why in the name of all that is fucking holy you didn't say Taylor was hearing everything we were saying over telepathy untill literally the last second!
[-] !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-[-] Shit. Okay. Okay. We can salvage this. We can. Uh. Fucking... Is there anywhere in this building we can go where we can discuss Magical Girl Shit in private?!
--[-] And... fuck. Emma and Shadow Stalker. And the ABB wannabes. Gotta lose them. Can't act suspicious. Kyuubey you stuffed catrabbit bastard you can't just do shit like this!!

Dalek Ix · Jul 12, 2021

==========
Gestalt
==========

[X] ?????????????????????????
-[X] What the fucking fuck? Since... Since when? How? Kyuubey, you bastard, where the fuck did you run off to!? Come back here right this instant and tell me why in the name of all that is fucking holy you didn't say Taylor was hearing everything we were saying over telepathy untill literally the last second!

You are not happy.

You are, in fact, the diametric opposite of happy. You are anti-happy. You are un-joyful. You are dis-felicitous.

You immediately begin to communicate your state to the rest of the world. Well, the parts of it that can hear you via Magical Telepathy.

<<KYUUBEY YOUR CATRABBIT BASTARD!!>> You go off, just barely remembering to hide the utterly murderous expression on your face by pressing your forehead against your desk, <<WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU RUN OFF TO?!>>

<<Huh,>> Sarah says, completely nonplussed. <<'Sup Taylor.>>

<<... Hi?>> the newest member of the magical community of Brockton Bay ventures out. Her voice is much like it was when she spoke; soft, with a certain fragility to it. And also very suspicious.

<<COME BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT AND TELL MY WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS FUCKING HOLY YOU DIDN'T SAY TAYLOR WAS HEARING EVERYTHING I WAS SAYING UNTIL LITERALLY THE LAST SECOND!! KYUUBEY!? KYUUBEY!!?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!>>

<<...?>> Taylor is confused enough that you can feel it over telepathy.

<<Don't mind her,>> Sarah chirps, <<Rachel really doesn't handle surprises well.>> She hummed. <<Must be an Aryan thing.>>

<<...??>> This doesn't seem to be helping Taylor's confusion. Then again, Sarah isn't the sort of person to solve problems.

You lightly thump your fist against your desk. <<Sarah,>> you growl into the link, <>

You can feel her pout again. <<Hey, I find it funny!>>

<<You know!>> Taylor pipes up, voice a little more forceful, <>

Oh. Right. You should probably... Yeah.

The bell rings, interrupting your thoughts. You quickly dump everything into your backpack and rush out the door as fast as you can, Taylor not all that far behind you. Sarah, who isn't a social pariah with a bull's-eye on her back as far as you know, can take her sweet time changing classes.

Taylor catches up to you --the benefit of being taller. She opens her mouth to speak and you make very sharp No gestures at her, tapping the side of your head.

<<Short version: Sarah and I are Magical Girls. Kyuubey is the name of that catrabbit bastard you saw, and it's what made us Magical Girls. For some unfathomable reason, it decided to include you into the conversation Sarah and I were having, and didn't say it was doing that because it has no concept of "privacy".>> A pause. <<... Actually, how long were you been listening in?>>

<<... Since, "Because fuck Emma Barnes",>> Taylor tells you. She glances around, as if expecting something to come out of nowhere.

Or, rather, someone.

<<Before that I was sort of just... hearing things. Noises that were almost words, but I couldn't really tell what they were.>> A pause. <<And then I saw, uh, Kyuubey standing on your shoulder, and I thought I'd finally gone off the deep end.>>

You wince.

<<Sorry about that.>> You try not to run your fingers through your hair. <<And. Uh. Sorry about ranting in your head.>>

An awkward silence falls over the two of you. You enter the room for History class (yay) ahead of everyone else. Taylor tries to offer you a seat closer to the wall, putting herself between you and the rest of the class, but you gently push her towards the less exposed spot.

"I can handle myself," you tell her out loud. She looks at you questioningly, and starts when you add over telepathy, <<I'm a Magical Girl, Taylor. Those ABB wannabes are small fry.>>

She stares at you through her glasses, and slowly takes her seat. "That's-" She stops herself. <<That's the second time you've said that you're a "Magical Girl",>> she notes over telepathy, <<What is that? You sound like you're some sort of Cape...>>

<<... Kinda?>> You rub the back of your head, glancing at the door. <<And also kinda not?>> You blink, suddenly horrified. <<... I just sounded like Sarah. She's contagious.>>

Taylor stares meaningfully at you.

<<... Right. A Magical Girl is kinda like a cape, except instead of a Trigger, we get a visit from Kyuubey,>> You start to explain. Students start to file in, shuffling through the door. You catch sight of Emma and smirk at her, just barely holding back on doing something more obviously rude at her. <<Kyuubey then offers up a contract; in exchange for a wish, it turns you into a Magical Girl.>>

Taylor frowns at this. She realizes that she's emoting to a conversation that nobody else can actually hear, and instead pulls out her book, pretending to read it, <<In exchange for a wish, he turns into something like a Cape?>> she asks you, sounding more than a little skeptical.

<<Yep~!>> Sarah butts in, making Taylor start. You glance at the rest of the students, and watch Sarah chat with a few other girls as she makes her way down the aisles towards her own spot in the classroom, smoothly maintaining both conversations. <<You get your heart's desire, superpowers, weapons you can make appear out of thin air and a cute costume.>> A pause. <<Unless you're Rachel, in which case you get an awkward costume.>>

<<Thank you,>> you grind out at her, <<Geez. Wow. Thanks for that. You are so freaking helpful.>>

<>

Taylor gives you a confused look. <<...Why is your costume-?>>

<<Not talking about it,>> you bluntly interrupt her. Thankfully, unlike some people, Taylor is capable of getting a hint, and changes tracks.

<<So... What's the catch?>> she asks you, <<He can't just...>> She paused. <<You said the wish is in exchange for being a magical girl.>>

Clever one, isn't she?

<<Yeah,>> you confirm, <<Magical Girls have to hunt Witches.>>

<<And when a Magical Girl talks about "Witches", we're not talking about the ones with pointy hats that ride on brooms,>> Sarah pipes up, <<We're taking monstrous, soul-sucking nightmares of antediluvian design, lying in a lair of their own whims that is tangent to the rest of reality, commanding legions of monsters! Us, Puella Magi, champions of love and justice, must find these pocket universes of despair and slay the evil within!>>

Something darkens in Taylor's face. <> she snaps at Sarah.

<<She's not,>> you agree, flatly.

<<I'm not,>> Sarah agrees, throwing both of you into a loop, <> A telepathic shrug. <<Two out of three's alright.>>

[-] Keep talking about Witches and Magical Girls. Sarah's... well, Sarah. Pressing her on this will just end in Taylor and you being frustrated.
[-] ... You know, you do wonder why your fellow Magical Girl just stood aside and let The Bitches Three do their thing. Two-on-one sounds like better odds for getting Sarah to admit to something instead of her usual shenanigans.

Gestalt, A Worm x PMMM Faux-quest

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