How did we roll past the max points on a d900? Skill bonus?
I gave a +50 bonus because this was
just after Jaune found out in-story about,
aaaalllll of Ada's horseshit. I gave a +50 bonus
directly before I made the dream roll.
Then I rolled a 900, so I just fucking tore up my notes and wrote the Passionflower dream instead. If you'd gotten dream 20, it essentially would have been the same, except with it being a choice to either pull an
incredibly risky move and go for it, which more likely than not would have led to a bad end, or leave it and find ways to take the strain off, keep yourself safe, mitigate the effects, all that good stuff. If I had rolled anything
other than a 900, but above 900, you wouldn't have gotten the Passionflower dream, it just wouldn't have been so uncertain whether you could have pulled it off.
Well, this quest is a treat. I honestly haven't enjoyed a piece of fiction this much in a while.
The fact that it's partially transistor has a bit to do with it.
Thank you. This quest has always been a labour of love, even as I grow worse and worse at the actual
labouring part, but posts like these always make it worthwhile. One of these days I'll keep a routine.
@Prok this may be a non-sequitor but whenever I think about aura arts for the quest, the first thing that pops into my head are the nen techniques from Hunter x Hunter.
Without giving too much away, Aura Arts is a study of intimacy. Intimacy in body, mind, and soul, and the ability to be presently aware in and of them, and presently aware in and of the body, mind, and soul of others. Once you are present within your soul, controlling it is like moving your body- not something you think about, something you
just do. After that...
You must learn to dance.
Anyway, update.
You're not going to lie- you're a little angry that you fell for that. Not,
as angry as you were, mind, that's a
long way off… but you're still a little
irritated.
Frankly, you just want to end it quickly. Dove is, and it doesn't grate too much to admit it, the better duellist. Even if his Semblance isn't living rent-free in your head anymore,
he's still in there- he's skilled at feinting, taking cheap shots, and keeping people off balance so they can't counter it.
Now, while you respect all of that; you know what?
You're skilled at bending the flow of time around your little finger and you think it's time that talent got put to good use.
"Engage Turn()," you whisper.
"What was that?" Dove asks, a thread of concern running through his voice. "... Jaune, are you alright?"
{Acknowledged.}
Nervous system connected. Acceleration begins on your count.
No count. Do it.
"Mr
Arrrrrr…"
The slowdown follows a softer curve than it did in the Signal exam or Weiss's near-assassination. You watch with some interest as Professor Goodwitch's face slowly petrifies, lips and tongue never forming the final stop of your name. In this extended timeframe, Dove simply looks like he's still waiting for confirmation that you're good.
CNS connection stable. Time dilation in effect. Turn() fully engaged.
Just the words you wanted to hear. You start with dessert; taking a step back, just so you're not quite within ballroom dancing range of Dove, you queue up a Load() instance.
Heavy Attack: Load()
2d10, DC 3: 7, 8. Partial Success.
You slam the Transistor down, and the instance forms in front of its eye, the result of an equation designed to draw energy from one of the Transistor's many sources, before compressing it all into a twist of folded space, where it continues to draw power and loop it back around- a neverending explosion, looped around on itself in an infinite maze of paths of least resistance. The mass of snarling power and cubes bounces towards Dove, waiting for the right imbalance to set it off. Turn() readjusts, shifting time forward just enough to let you watch him register the attack.
"Whhhhaaaat thhheeee...-!"
And for your next trick- setting it off.
{Crash()?}
Yuh-
huh.
You slam down your sword and trigger the first queued Crash().
Light Attacks: Crash()
3d10, DC 2: 10, 9, 10. CRITICAL SUCCESS! Crashed status effect autoprocs!
7, 8, 9. Success!
3, 7, 7. Success!
The wave of destructive analysis, a thousand bars and lines of light, wash over both the Load() instance and Dove himself. The creation of a Crash() file has always been a little hit or miss, but something about his Aura lets it worm through the cracks much easier than usual. Some people are unlucky like that- his file is roughly 18 terabytes in size, documenting every minor structural flaw in his Aura and every weak point in his blade or his body, and the Transistor uses this to redial your attacks to focus on them.
You trigger a second Crash(), dragging your sword out of the rapidly Restore()ed hole in the stage you just made.
{Uh, Jaune-}
A second wave passes over him
. Turn()'s ability to accelerate begins to waver, and you slow down just enough to watch him finally
register what's happening. His face twists from dull surprise to pain- you watch him grit his teeth, bringing up his sword to defend himself.
One more. You raise your sword and bring it down again, triggering a third Crash()-
{JAUNE WAIT NO-}
SHIT FUCK NO IT JUST TRIGGERED WHAT-
You watch in horror as Dove slides back just a little more, the third Crash() washing over him. with it, Turn() begins to reach its limits. Time flickers just enough to let you watch Dove's Aura bar
firmly hit the red, and the Load() instance begin to vibrate like an angry Rapier Wasp nest.
Warning- opponent Aura critically low. If that instance goes off, his Aura will break and the excess energy will strike him directly.
...
Fuck.
{I'm sorry, I wasn't quick enough to tell you.}
No, it's fine, you weren't, exactly paying attention. It's on you for not making sure.
For just a moment, though, the idea of just letting this run its course, letting the Load() explode unimpeded and shatter his Aura and give him a few burns and internal bruises to show for it- it
does appeal to you. For just a moment, it's
worth being kicked out of Beacon.
Sanity reasserts itself a moment later.
… Any plans?
{Place yourself in the blast, maybe push him to the ground. It won't break your Aura, and he'll still be lower than you in the end. Hopefully, you'll,
not be put on probation.}
Ha... this is gonna
suuuuck.
{Mhm. I'm sure he'll appreciate the whole not being grievously injured thing, though.}
Oh, don't patronise me.
{Okay, fair enough.}
You judge a short-range Jaunt(), Bracket automatically dialling down the energy needed to perform the jump. With a sigh, you queue it up. Blip. You're now in front of Dove. You feel the pull of some preserved momentum from the quick hop, pushing you towards him.
Turn() ending in three. Prepare yourself.
The instant you stop moving in Turn() time, you let go of the Transistor and wrap your arms around Dove's waist. Dove, still stunned, doesn't put up a fight as you wrestle him to the ground, lifting him off his feet and slamming him onto his back.
"GET DOWN!"
The Transistor places itself between you and the ensuing explosion, but it still blows you and Dove to the floor. Your back is being licked by the sun- a wave of heat and energy waves over your back, and you feel your Aura begin to
crack under the pressure, growing thin on the other side as you knock chins with your opponent on the way down. Thankfully, Load() is only a short-lived explosion.
{... Aren't all explosions short-lived by default? Isn't being short-lived kind of the defining characteristic
of an explosion?}
Save the semantics for after the concussion wears off, please.
"Cease!" Professor Goodwitch calls out, her voice snapping off the walls like a gunshot. "Mr Bronzewing, Mr Arc, sheath and disengage your weapons, and then I expect a
very good explanation for what just happened."
The Transistor silently floats off of the stage, leaning itself against the stair railing as the bright turquoise light inside dims to almost nothing. Pulling yourself to your feet, you unconsciously offer Dove a hand.
Breaking one's Aura is a very unpleasant experience- not only has the light of your soul been shattered into a billion pieces, but you're suddenly at the mercy of the
strains of fighting at a superhuman level. The low-level enhancement of muscles and bones, the
cushioning needed to work on that level of physicality without tearing yourself apart; gone.
Dragged down to the level of mere mortals after fighting like gods. He's going to feel like hell for the rest of the day.
It doesn't surprise you much when Dove, having just had the wind knocked out of him, doesn't acknowledge you, instead trying to suck air into his paralysed diaphragm. You keep your hand up for him, and when Dove finally notices, he stares at it with some bemusement.
As soon as your fingers make contact, you realise that you can't feel his Aura at all; if the explosion didn't break it, slamming him into the ground must have finished the job. You haul him to his feet with a grunt of effort, steadying him when he starts to sway. With a calming breath, you look at Professor Goodwitch.
… And your assembled classmates. The reactions are varied, on a spectrum from mild surprise to outright
shock. You realise that almost nobody here outside of your team has seen Turn() up close before, and even they haven't seen you use it so…
{Maliciously?}
Let's say
efficiently.
{Uh huh.}
Professor Goodwitch raises an eyebrow at you, and you give a little wheeze of panic. Public speaking. Not your forté.
"Uh, I…" you start, quickly petering off into nothing.
Your instructor sighs, choosing mercy instead of letting you flail for the words.
"
After class, Mr Arc," she says, though not with any kind of heat. "Vacate the stage, please."
You nod and check on Dove again.
"You okay?"
"I'm, fine, I think. Hey, um- Jaune?"
When you turn back, you see that he's offering you a hand. Looking at him, you see no sign that he feels bad about losing- even to something as extreme as Turn().
"Good fight."
You give him a faint smile and shake his hand- a little tension leaving you when you feel his Aura slowly recovering. A little bit of sportsmanship never hurt anyone, right?
{Mmm… once or twice, but those were heel matches.}
Pft-
shut up!
Blue cackles to himself, inordinately proud that he got you with that.
|||
After an awkward explanation of Turn()'s quirks, Goodwitch, thankfully, does
not give you detention or turn the Transistor into an ornamental cube. Instead, you were given a polite
threat request to better manage your ability to crunch many actions into a small amount of time.
{It's all fun and games until you accidentally vaporise an opponent.}
It can still be fun and games after that.
The pair of them have been yammering back and forth for the past couple of hours, attempting to keep you awake through your Grimm Studies class. Soon, lunch rolls around, and you can breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that you're now no longer in danger of passing out from sheer boredom. You take a sip of your cafeteria coffee- you saw Oobleck take some earlier so you
know this is the good shit- and sigh in contentment. Ada, Creme, and Lumen take sips of their own beverages and sigh in much the same way.
You did it. You all made it to lunch, on five hours of sleep, and you think Team JACL did pretty well, all things considered. Nobody passed out, nobody was called out in class for snoozing, sure,
you got shot in the head but hey, that's Combat Training. Besides- after that, you've never felt more awake in your
life.
"Hey, uh, you wanna take our lunch outside? Some of the little courtyards have benches, and it's a nice day out," Creme suggests to the rest of you.
Never say you can't pick out a request for a private conversation when you hear it.
"Sure, lead the way," you say, picking up the paper wrapper your burger came in and wrapping it up again.
Ada and Lumen look down at their dishes- some kind of grilled fish, and a bowl of beef and rice- then at each other. With a shrug, Lumen forms a blue serving tray and takes Ada's food with him. You do your best to ignore the odd stares drawn by your exit, though it does speed your pace just a little. Nobody stops you, so, you leave. Isn't it nice when things actually go your way?
The courtyard is quite pleasant, and does indeed have a bench and picnic table, alongside a cloistered path that held pots and planters with delicate flowers that wouldn't survive under direct summer sunlight. Bracket points out a couple of odd scuffs; as if they'd been stored on their ends, then very rapidly dragged across the ground. Now that he's pointed that out, you can see quite a bit of damage to this little courtyard. It's all minor damage, naturally, but it's still…
damage.
It's recent- the repairs are less than a day old. Looks like lots of impacts from… something small. About the size of a human fist.
Uh… huh.
"Creme, why is this courtyard so… banged up?"
Creme freezes in place, eyes suddenly focused on nowhere nearby. A moment passes, and then she's back in the room.
"Oh, uh, haha, this is where the CQC elective took place. Ozpin can get…" that far-off look is back, "e-enthusiastic."
The word wavers in her throat, and you watch her hand tremble a little around the paper cup of coffee she'd brought with her.
{Brothers, what did he
do?}
You don't know, you're not unpacking it right now, not your circus, not your monkeys. Instead, you just nod in commiseration, because
oh boy you're about to make things worse.
Even as you think it, your willingness to tell them the whole truth wavers. Too big to keep to yourself. Too big to give away to your friends.
Fuck, this sucks.
{They already know enough that if you try to lie to them, they'll figure it out. It's too late to back out now, Jaune. All we can do is choose how we want to approach this.}
"Jaune? Are you okay? You've not touched your food since you sat down," Creme asks you.
Glancing at her, you realise that your teammates are staring at you with concern.
"Uh… I'm, fine. Just, not hungry, right now."
Lie. You are
ravenous. Any kind of fighting makes you seriously consider the logistics and culinary challenges in
actually eating an entire horse.
"... Is it about last night?" Lumen asks. When you look at him, you watch the flash of orange in his eyes wick away, disintegrating back into light fast enough that you almost think you imagined it.
"... Yeah. I, uh… have a lot to say, and I'm… going to, definitely, just trying to figure out what to talk about first."
"Take your time. It sounds like you're spoiled for choice," he replies patiently.
Boy, he doesn't know the half of it. How are you opening, anyway?
[] Ozpin- "... Ozpin's an immortal wizard who wields magic. The Transistor broke because he used said magic to make it stop thinking after it tried to poke his soul a bunch. He's not mad, it's fine, they made up."
[] Ada- "Ada I kinda let slip that Boriah Lee's coming here for you, I am- so sorry, it just kinda… came up in conversation."
[] The Process- "... So, he knows about the Process now. He was…" Awestruck? Left speechless? Beyond ecstatic? "... impressed."
[] Rip Off The Bandaid- "... Have any of you ever had a Witch-Queen dream?"
