In which Rachel makes a few things clear
Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
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Gestalt
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Gestalt
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"You're not." A pause. "Not yet."
Taylor's looking at you.
[X] ... concerned. Taylor is not ready to be a Magical Girl. She's a layer cake of issues and trauma, and that'll kill a Puella Magi as surely as a bullet to the Soul Gem.
"You wouldn't be able to see Kyuubey if you didn't have Potential," you say, and you feel the capital letter of that word. "Same for the telepathy."
The statement hangs in the air. Damocles's Sword. "... I could make a wish?" Taylor asks, and the hope in her voice hurts. "What could I wish for?"
"... Anything. Miracles. Curses." You pause. "There's a limit. It... depends on the person."
Silence. She's thinking about it. Considering it. What would she wish for? What could she wish for?
You have a sudden, vivid image of an empty desk.
"I could-"
Your entire being revolts at the thought. No. No.
"Is it worth your soul, Taylor?"
She falls silent. You dare not look at her.
"Don't tell me what it is. Don't tell anyone what it is. I'm not gonna tell you what to do with your life, and I know there's something you want to wish for, but..." Pause. Breathe. "Just... Ask yourself; Is it worth your soul?"
You turn towards her. You're shorter than Taylor by a not-inconsiderable margin. She still backs away.
"I'll be a Magical Girl until the day I die," you tell her, eyes locked with hers, "And when I do it won't be pretty. It'll be a violent, bloody death, and I'll be lucky to leave a corpse behind." Breathe. "Or one day my despair will fill up my soul until it breaks."
"I've accepted that."
You have. Your Soul Gem barely darkens at the thought anymore.
"Is that the sort of life you want, Taylor?" You ask her. Your voice is as light as a feather, and as heavy as the bottom of the sea.
She looks back at you. Her lips purse, and she looks down, towards the ground.
"I..." Her hands clench. You can see the painful hope in her stand against the portent you've told her.
"... I'll... think about it," she says. She's conflicted. She still wants her Wish, but what you've said has given her pause.
"Thank you," you say, and finally breathe. You mean it. It's as much as you dare ask for.
[X] Accept, ask Taylor.
You turn towards Sarah, who's been watching with an inscrutable expression on her face. "Fine," you tell her, "Tonight." You glance to one side. "Taylor?"
She starts, not expecting you to ask. She bites her lip. "... No," she answers, but before you can relax, she adds, "not tonight. I've..." She sighs. "I've got a lot to think about."
You'd rather she never go with you. At all. But you're afraid to discourage her further. Push one way and she might swing back. It'll be something you'll have to deal with when the time comes.
Sarah claps her hands together, her shield disappearing in a starburst. "Wonderful!" she chirps, "Well, I'll be waiting for you at the entrance. Midnight sounds good?"
You dismiss your weapon, and it reduces itself to nothing in a flurry of magic and steel. "Yeah," you tell her, pulling out your Soul Gem to check how full it is. "Sure. I'll give you a shout when I get there."
You start to walk.
"... Was yours?" Taylor asks you.
You stop. Turn to face her.
"What?"
"Your wish," Taylor clarifies. Her eyes are boring into yours. "You asked me if what I wanted was worth my soul. Was yours?"
You close your eyes. Breathe.
(In the corner of your eye, Sarah tenses. Like a coiled spring, ready to act.)
"No."
Breathe, out. Your loathsome costume disappears in a crack of magic.
"It wasn't."
You leave without another word.
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The first class after lunch goes by in a blur. Between it and the next, some instinct nudges you, and you duck into the background to inspect your gem.
Half a minute later, you're leaning against the stall wall. Your gem is turning back into a ring, and in your other hand is a spent Grief Seet. It's bitingly cold to the touch, and the pitch black core glows with malice. Your lips pull back into a half-snarl, and toss it away; Kyuubey briefly pops in between spaces to collect it.
You sigh, finally feeling like yourself again. Mostly. Enough that you can finally think.
(Not about that. Never about that. You thought you learned that lesson.)
The idea of Taylor contracting makes you extremely concerned about what her lifespan would be; being in Winslow in general and around Emma Barnes in specific would burn at her soul like nobody's business, untill she either broke or snapped and did something drastic. You thank whatever saints are watching that you weren't mornonically stupid enough to actually put it that way to her. There's just no way to say, "I'm sorry, but you're too sad to be a Magical Girl," without being the most gigantic asshole the world has ever seen.
Stop lying to yourself. That wasn't all you felt, wasn't it?
[X] ... saddened. You were kinda looking forward to the idea of having someone you could talk to, without having to worry about watching your back.
There you go.
... Fine. So your intent wasn't entirely pure, but you were so badly looking forward to having Taylor be a friend and... Well, it was what you were planning to do from the start anyways, partly because Fuck Emma Barnes, and partly because she looked like she needed someone friendly in her life. And... you would've been fine with that. Possibly.
But then things just happened. Kyuubey deciding that Taylor has Potential and dropping her onto your lap (and Sarah's, technically, but you wouldn't trust that one to be responsible for a paperclip). And then you had someone who could understand. Who you could talk to, without having to hide anything from her.
Except things don't work out that way. And...
Your head hits the dividing wall. Maybe... Maybe...
Something tells you that Taylor won't be the only one sorting things in her head.
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Taylor doesn't try to speak with you again untill the bell rings, sending you a halting apology via telepathy. Sarah had gently informed her on the finer points of Magical Girl ettiquette regarding Wishes, it seems.
<<It's fine,>> you tell her, <<Really!>> You flash a smile. <<Honestly, it's more my fault for letting that get to me.>>
Taylor looks like she doubts that, but doesn't challenge what you said. You reach up to put a hand on her shoulder, trying your best to be reassuring.
The two of you walk out of Winslow; the rest of the day had otherwise gone smoothly, with the added bonus that, every so often, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Emma Barnes seething.
"So, you got any-"
"Hey!"
You turn and... Ah.
It's that guy, Randall, standing in front of a dozen and change guys wearing ABB colours. He spreads his arms. "Having second thoughts, Bird Shit?" he crows.
You drag your right hand down your face. <<Taylor,>> you tell at her, <<Keep walking. I'll try and talk with you tonight.>>
She glances at the group, <<I could->>
<<Taylor-...>> Calm yourself. <<I'll be fine. Trust me?>>
She hesitates a moment longer, and then nods, waving as she goes her own way. You wave her goodbye, and next, turn to face what might be a good chunk of Winslow's Junior ABB. All of them older and larger than you are.
You crack your knuckles. "Alright, then..."
[-] Humiliate them. These guys are nothing and they should know that.
[-] You honestly have better things to do than throwing down with some gangster wanna-be's. Be as efficient as you can.