Chrysalis 1.6
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The flash of the emergency lighting atop the various police, ambulance, and other such vehicles glinted in strobing red and blue off the edge of the knife in your hands. Shuddering at the thought of how close this blade or one just like it came to being planted in your various vital bits tonight, you set it atop the burnt bandolier full of cutlery you'd asked Glory Girl to let you grab from beside where she'd cratered an Oni Lee copy. You still weren't entirely sure why you'd wanted to take his discarded gear. A trophy? Maybe. Frowning, you amended the thought. It wasn't so much a trophy as it was a reminder. No matter how terrifying it had been, you'd made it. You survived.
The knife returned to its spot, you pulled your arm back inside the cozy confines of the surprisingly large blanket paramedics had managed to produce from one of the nearby ambulances. Your ungainly extremities hidden under the covering, you tried to ignore the little pit of dread your stomach seems intent upon collapsing down into. Now that the adrenaline rush prompted by your flight and then fight had begun to wear off, all the questions which you'd forced to the periphery of your mind loomed their way back into your thoughts. Just what had happened to you? You remembered your locker...then, something hazy, indistinct. It had seemed important at the time, but even as you tried to place that sense, the very last vestiges of the memory evaporated like dew in the sun.
Huffing out a sigh with a billowy cloud of breath, you wonder where Glory Girl had gotten to after she'd left you to the attention of paramedics. She'd been skeptical when you'd mentioned that most of the blood on you and soaked into your clothes wasn't your own. You'd started to dry heave again at the memory of being showered by Oni Lee's gore, but had managed to force the memory out of such visceral recollection. Eventually your insistence that you weren't going to bleed to death there on the rooftop had managed to convince her. The fact that you weren't noticeably bleeding at the time had probably helped. Although, now that you thought about it, why was that? You knew you'd gotten cut. More than once. The stinging in the wounds as you'd moved had been proof enough of that.
<I believe I'm more than capable of explaining that.> There was a pause, followed by a more hesitant, <If you wish, that is.>
<Speaking of things I was trying not to think about,> You nodded nonetheless, <Might as well.>
<Very well. It is part and parcel of the changes our chrysalis made upon your body. You will find yourself more proof against harm than you were. Disease need not be anything you concern yourself with. You can stop bleeding with a simple act of will. You heal quicker, as well. A matter of hours rather than days or weeks. You also heal more thoroughly than you would otherwise. Very few, if any, things in your world might prove capable of damaging you in a manner sufficient to leave so much as a scar once you're fully healed. Also, short of outright amputation, there's not much that can actually disable you for more than the short term. Even then, that term is shorter than it would be.>
You consider that for a moment. That could explain the fact that you didn't need bandages. <So you're, what, some mental construct my powers came up with to make using my new thinker powers and the others easier?>
<What? Oh, oh, I see what you're getting at. No. I am not. In fact, I have absolutely nothing to do with your parahuman powers whatsoever. Neither do any of the things you've been doing tonight. And I am not some mental construct. I am a demon. And seeing as you're stuck with me, I would appreciate it if you treated me with a bit more respect than implied by your repeated attempts to dismiss me as a non-entity.>
<Sorry,> you manage to think back at it. <It's just a hell of a lot to take in. And nothing in the world really maps to what you're telling me. It's...just kind of easier to assume I'm going crazy.>
<Well,> it suggests, <that, or the fact that the parts that don't conform to anything in this world don't actually originate in it.>
<What? You mean you're from another dimension, another Earth? Like Aleph?>
<Yes, but also no.>
You blink at that. <Um...okay? How so?>
<I come from a different reality entirely from your own. Not simply a different dimension, but a different universe from your multiverse.>
<So...these things I'm doing, the speed the agility, the super-analysis, those aren't because of my trigger event? Those aren't my parahuman power? Powers? I,> you trail off, hoping the mental presence can alleviate your confusion.
<No, they are not. As far as I can tell, the only thing that is due to your parahuman abilities is your ability to sense those presences you've been thinking of as alien beings. The powers you've displayed so far are entirely because of something which, while in certain wasn't it isn't dissimilar from a trigger event, is entirely distinct from one in very important ways. It happened after your trigger event. I don't know if you clearly remember, but I offered you help. You accepted. When you did, my flesh was unwoven into the substance of the coccoon which surrounded you. My spirit, meanwhile, commingled and grew intwined with yours. And additionally, your (admittedly oddly vestigial) soul bound to the Exaltation I carried inside me.>
<The what?>
<Exaltation. It...the precise nature of what it is is a bit involved and highly complicated, but essentially think of it as a force-multiplier for human potential. That's how the first ones started out. Yours in particular has been...jailbroken is probably the best term for the process...has been jailbroken in order to commingle it with the essence and patterns of cosmic beings known as the Yozis. They were the Primordial Titans who created my world. As much forces of nature or principles of existence as they were beings. They...lost a war. A very long time ago, their creations rebelled against them. Killed some, imprisoned and maimed the others. Those that were killed are, frankly, no longer relevant. We're fairly certain they no longer exist anymore. Those that were maimed...fundamentally altered in their very natures, they were bound to oaths of surrended and trapped in an imperishable prison, forever kept separate from Creation and the rebellious gods and mortals that lived there. Those prisoners are the Yozis.>
<I...wow. That's...that's a lot to take in all at once.>
<It is? Oh dear, and here I thought I did a good job of giving you the short version of the story.>
<That's the short version?!>
<Quite. It's a bit over-simplified, but it gets across the cogent points.>
You shake your head ruefully at the thought of that. After a moment, something occurs to you. <Why me?>
<Pardon?>
<You heard me. Why pick me? Out of everyone in the world you could have given this power to, why me?>
<Er...that's oversimplifying it a bit, but, well. Most people in the world weren't suited for it. It...it takes a great deal of heroic potential to even be capable of being host to an Exaltation. And for an Infernal Exaltation such as you have, it requires more.>
<More? What, more heroic potential? Then why the hell pick me of all people. I'm nothing; I'm a nobody.>
<Where to start. First: you're wrong on both counts. The additional requirement for an Infernal Exaltation is that the person must be one of heroic potential and they must have been tempered by the knowledge of loss and failure. Loss and failure is etched into every mote of the Yozis' beings, and only one who shared the understanding of pain they have could have resonated properly with such an Exaltation. As to your second statement, the absurd one, you...you have no idea, do you?> It sounded vaguely incredulous.
<What? It's...it's just truth. If I vanished tomorrow, it's not like anyone but my Dad would miss me.>
<Perhaps not immediately. But in the long run? Absolutely. You...I have some ability towards precognition. I used that on your fate, your destiny before I approached you. As destiny was set to unravel, Taylor, you might well have been the most important person to have lived on Earth. Minimum of the top three.>
You send a wave of withering scorn in response to that. If he was going to try buttering you up, at least he might as well pick something believable to try and sell it. <Me. The most important person ever to live on Earth-Bet? Hardly.>
<You're both right and wrong there. I didn't mean on Earth-Bet. I meant on Earth. As in: any of the Earths. And apparently there are more than two, by the way. That...apparently is safe for me to tell you, though the specifics of how and why you were fated to be important...aren't. The more I told before its time, the worse things would be.> The voice paused a moment, before adding, <Not that any of it applies now. You're Exalted. Fate is yours to change and dictate to your whim as it stands already.> Softening, it proceeds, <Your fate wasn't set to be anything approaching a pleasant one. I'd rather spare you, spare both of us, from ending up that way, if possible.>
You took your time to think through that. Unable to think of any adequate response, you just shrug and return to stewing in your own worries from before. You weren't entirely sure what to make of all this or even what your life would be like now, for that matter. You were pretty sure that a secret identity would be all but impossible to maintain looking like you did. Though...you had met Glory Girl. Maybe, just maybe she'd be willing to introduce you to her sister. And maybe she'd be able to fix you. Though, given how much she worked saving lives, you weren't entirely sure you could feel good about taking up her highly valuable time.
It took a moment for you to realize that someone was talking to you. "S-sorry. What?" You asked, opening your eyes to find Glory Girl hovering nearby at eye-level. "I...I didn't catch what you said."
She simply shrugged in response. "I was just asking what you wanted to do now. Normally Mom or Aunt Sarah would handle the debriefing, but honestly...Mom's busy working out details on who gets credit for what on the E88 that got captured tonight and tying Armsmaster up so he doesn't just march over here and try to badger you about joining the Protectorate before you have time to process everything, and Aunt Sarah's still calming my cousin down after a fight that almost went a bit badly for her." She shrugs. "Since all the fighting's done, there's not a lot left to do. I figured I'd go see how my sister's holding up with all the folks that got wounded tonight, since she should be just about done with that now." She offered a hand to help you to your feet, which you took. Stepping over to it, you pick up the bandolier and pull it back under your blanket-cape. Somehow, standing out here with it wrapped around you reminds you of all the times you ran around the house as a child with your sheets or a towel tied around your neck, playing at being Alexandria. That sense of childishness only made you feel more out of your depth. "I know you said you didn't need medical attention, but I'd still feel better if you let Amy give you a quick once-over. Either way, though, just let me know whatever it is you decide, ma'am." She offered a friendly grin, clearly trying to put you at ease.
ooo
[Intimacy: Glory Girl / Victoria Dallon - Awed Admiration (She was so unbelievably nice!)] 2/2 scenes, Established!
[X] Time to face the music.
--Go over to where Brandish and Armsmaster are still caught up in discussion. You're not sure you're ready for the Wards, but...well, it wasn't exactly as though you had other options, either.
[X] Just what the doctor ordered
--Accept Glory Girl's offer of a Panacea check-up. While there, broach the subject of whether your...alterations within the Chrysalis can be fixed.
[X] Past-curfew check-in
--You really should try to get ahold of a phone and call Dad. He's surely worried sick, since you didn't come home from school today.
[X] Write-in
--Some other action not listed in the above.
The knife returned to its spot, you pulled your arm back inside the cozy confines of the surprisingly large blanket paramedics had managed to produce from one of the nearby ambulances. Your ungainly extremities hidden under the covering, you tried to ignore the little pit of dread your stomach seems intent upon collapsing down into. Now that the adrenaline rush prompted by your flight and then fight had begun to wear off, all the questions which you'd forced to the periphery of your mind loomed their way back into your thoughts. Just what had happened to you? You remembered your locker...then, something hazy, indistinct. It had seemed important at the time, but even as you tried to place that sense, the very last vestiges of the memory evaporated like dew in the sun.
Huffing out a sigh with a billowy cloud of breath, you wonder where Glory Girl had gotten to after she'd left you to the attention of paramedics. She'd been skeptical when you'd mentioned that most of the blood on you and soaked into your clothes wasn't your own. You'd started to dry heave again at the memory of being showered by Oni Lee's gore, but had managed to force the memory out of such visceral recollection. Eventually your insistence that you weren't going to bleed to death there on the rooftop had managed to convince her. The fact that you weren't noticeably bleeding at the time had probably helped. Although, now that you thought about it, why was that? You knew you'd gotten cut. More than once. The stinging in the wounds as you'd moved had been proof enough of that.
<I believe I'm more than capable of explaining that.> There was a pause, followed by a more hesitant, <If you wish, that is.>
<Speaking of things I was trying not to think about,> You nodded nonetheless, <Might as well.>
<Very well. It is part and parcel of the changes our chrysalis made upon your body. You will find yourself more proof against harm than you were. Disease need not be anything you concern yourself with. You can stop bleeding with a simple act of will. You heal quicker, as well. A matter of hours rather than days or weeks. You also heal more thoroughly than you would otherwise. Very few, if any, things in your world might prove capable of damaging you in a manner sufficient to leave so much as a scar once you're fully healed. Also, short of outright amputation, there's not much that can actually disable you for more than the short term. Even then, that term is shorter than it would be.>
You consider that for a moment. That could explain the fact that you didn't need bandages. <So you're, what, some mental construct my powers came up with to make using my new thinker powers and the others easier?>
<What? Oh, oh, I see what you're getting at. No. I am not. In fact, I have absolutely nothing to do with your parahuman powers whatsoever. Neither do any of the things you've been doing tonight. And I am not some mental construct. I am a demon. And seeing as you're stuck with me, I would appreciate it if you treated me with a bit more respect than implied by your repeated attempts to dismiss me as a non-entity.>
<Sorry,> you manage to think back at it. <It's just a hell of a lot to take in. And nothing in the world really maps to what you're telling me. It's...just kind of easier to assume I'm going crazy.>
<Well,> it suggests, <that, or the fact that the parts that don't conform to anything in this world don't actually originate in it.>
<What? You mean you're from another dimension, another Earth? Like Aleph?>
<Yes, but also no.>
You blink at that. <Um...okay? How so?>
<I come from a different reality entirely from your own. Not simply a different dimension, but a different universe from your multiverse.>
<So...these things I'm doing, the speed the agility, the super-analysis, those aren't because of my trigger event? Those aren't my parahuman power? Powers? I,> you trail off, hoping the mental presence can alleviate your confusion.
<No, they are not. As far as I can tell, the only thing that is due to your parahuman abilities is your ability to sense those presences you've been thinking of as alien beings. The powers you've displayed so far are entirely because of something which, while in certain wasn't it isn't dissimilar from a trigger event, is entirely distinct from one in very important ways. It happened after your trigger event. I don't know if you clearly remember, but I offered you help. You accepted. When you did, my flesh was unwoven into the substance of the coccoon which surrounded you. My spirit, meanwhile, commingled and grew intwined with yours. And additionally, your (admittedly oddly vestigial) soul bound to the Exaltation I carried inside me.>
<The what?>
<Exaltation. It...the precise nature of what it is is a bit involved and highly complicated, but essentially think of it as a force-multiplier for human potential. That's how the first ones started out. Yours in particular has been...jailbroken is probably the best term for the process...has been jailbroken in order to commingle it with the essence and patterns of cosmic beings known as the Yozis. They were the Primordial Titans who created my world. As much forces of nature or principles of existence as they were beings. They...lost a war. A very long time ago, their creations rebelled against them. Killed some, imprisoned and maimed the others. Those that were killed are, frankly, no longer relevant. We're fairly certain they no longer exist anymore. Those that were maimed...fundamentally altered in their very natures, they were bound to oaths of surrended and trapped in an imperishable prison, forever kept separate from Creation and the rebellious gods and mortals that lived there. Those prisoners are the Yozis.>
<I...wow. That's...that's a lot to take in all at once.>
<It is? Oh dear, and here I thought I did a good job of giving you the short version of the story.>
<That's the short version?!>
<Quite. It's a bit over-simplified, but it gets across the cogent points.>
You shake your head ruefully at the thought of that. After a moment, something occurs to you. <Why me?>
<Pardon?>
<You heard me. Why pick me? Out of everyone in the world you could have given this power to, why me?>
<Er...that's oversimplifying it a bit, but, well. Most people in the world weren't suited for it. It...it takes a great deal of heroic potential to even be capable of being host to an Exaltation. And for an Infernal Exaltation such as you have, it requires more.>
<More? What, more heroic potential? Then why the hell pick me of all people. I'm nothing; I'm a nobody.>
<Where to start. First: you're wrong on both counts. The additional requirement for an Infernal Exaltation is that the person must be one of heroic potential and they must have been tempered by the knowledge of loss and failure. Loss and failure is etched into every mote of the Yozis' beings, and only one who shared the understanding of pain they have could have resonated properly with such an Exaltation. As to your second statement, the absurd one, you...you have no idea, do you?> It sounded vaguely incredulous.
<What? It's...it's just truth. If I vanished tomorrow, it's not like anyone but my Dad would miss me.>
<Perhaps not immediately. But in the long run? Absolutely. You...I have some ability towards precognition. I used that on your fate, your destiny before I approached you. As destiny was set to unravel, Taylor, you might well have been the most important person to have lived on Earth. Minimum of the top three.>
You send a wave of withering scorn in response to that. If he was going to try buttering you up, at least he might as well pick something believable to try and sell it. <Me. The most important person ever to live on Earth-Bet? Hardly.>
<You're both right and wrong there. I didn't mean on Earth-Bet. I meant on Earth. As in: any of the Earths. And apparently there are more than two, by the way. That...apparently is safe for me to tell you, though the specifics of how and why you were fated to be important...aren't. The more I told before its time, the worse things would be.> The voice paused a moment, before adding, <Not that any of it applies now. You're Exalted. Fate is yours to change and dictate to your whim as it stands already.> Softening, it proceeds, <Your fate wasn't set to be anything approaching a pleasant one. I'd rather spare you, spare both of us, from ending up that way, if possible.>
You took your time to think through that. Unable to think of any adequate response, you just shrug and return to stewing in your own worries from before. You weren't entirely sure what to make of all this or even what your life would be like now, for that matter. You were pretty sure that a secret identity would be all but impossible to maintain looking like you did. Though...you had met Glory Girl. Maybe, just maybe she'd be willing to introduce you to her sister. And maybe she'd be able to fix you. Though, given how much she worked saving lives, you weren't entirely sure you could feel good about taking up her highly valuable time.
It took a moment for you to realize that someone was talking to you. "S-sorry. What?" You asked, opening your eyes to find Glory Girl hovering nearby at eye-level. "I...I didn't catch what you said."
She simply shrugged in response. "I was just asking what you wanted to do now. Normally Mom or Aunt Sarah would handle the debriefing, but honestly...Mom's busy working out details on who gets credit for what on the E88 that got captured tonight and tying Armsmaster up so he doesn't just march over here and try to badger you about joining the Protectorate before you have time to process everything, and Aunt Sarah's still calming my cousin down after a fight that almost went a bit badly for her." She shrugs. "Since all the fighting's done, there's not a lot left to do. I figured I'd go see how my sister's holding up with all the folks that got wounded tonight, since she should be just about done with that now." She offered a hand to help you to your feet, which you took. Stepping over to it, you pick up the bandolier and pull it back under your blanket-cape. Somehow, standing out here with it wrapped around you reminds you of all the times you ran around the house as a child with your sheets or a towel tied around your neck, playing at being Alexandria. That sense of childishness only made you feel more out of your depth. "I know you said you didn't need medical attention, but I'd still feel better if you let Amy give you a quick once-over. Either way, though, just let me know whatever it is you decide, ma'am." She offered a friendly grin, clearly trying to put you at ease.
ooo
[Intimacy: Glory Girl / Victoria Dallon - Awed Admiration (She was so unbelievably nice!)] 2/2 scenes, Established!
[X] Time to face the music.
--Go over to where Brandish and Armsmaster are still caught up in discussion. You're not sure you're ready for the Wards, but...well, it wasn't exactly as though you had other options, either.
[X] Just what the doctor ordered
--Accept Glory Girl's offer of a Panacea check-up. While there, broach the subject of whether your...alterations within the Chrysalis can be fixed.
[X] Past-curfew check-in
--You really should try to get ahold of a phone and call Dad. He's surely worried sick, since you didn't come home from school today.
[X] Write-in
--Some other action not listed in the above.
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