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Taylor and L really need to find out the comparative buying power of a Sim $ and the Earth Bet $. As 72 eb$ an hour to learn magic, not counting books, is way too cheap.
 
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Sim-ply Living (Worm/Sims) - Chapter 6
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    • Chapter 6


    It's clear that Faultline isn't really set up for looking after guests when Jack and Jill started flagging towards the end of the party, as she apologized for not having somewhere more suitable than the couches for us to sleep.


    L and I both trawled through our inventories to see if we had a solution, and L found the tents we bought when we went on vacation to Batuu. They're a bit more than we needed, but as they don't need to be pegged down, they're ideal for our situation. So we took one out and duplicated it twice while it was still in its storage crate configuration. We then had to spend the better part of an hour working out how to make open it, as the system used to do it for us.


    I think that's going to be our go-to for things we've brought with us. At least until we have a way of replacing them if they get broken to the point magic can't repair it or they're stolen. With that in mind, I duplicated and then burgilated the games console upstairs.


    Once the kids were in bed, L and I had our discussion, one that didn't go anywhere close to the way I expected. In hindsight, I think that L is afraid this isn't real and by giving Five away I was showing the cracks in the lie . On the other side of the coin, doing so without system assistance was partially proving to myself that I'm free of it. Not that I can blame her, as I'm half expecting a glowing green plumbob to appear above my head.


    After some makeup WooHoo in one of the booths, just to prove to both of us that this is real, we started going through our inventories looking for suitable gifts and party favors, as we did interrupt their shopping. Since the twins are teenagers now, we decided to give them a standard broom each along with a familiar.


    L found an old Simray she got in a present from Father Winter a few seasons ago, so we figured it would be good for Spitfire, as apparently, she has trouble putting out her own fires. Elle and Melanie are going to get super mops. It took us a long time to narrow down Newter and Gregor, but ultimately we decided to give Newter a white light sword from Batuu, and Gregor a digital drawing pad. For dad, well dad's difficult as there's so much I want to give him, so many missed memories and moments. In the end, it was L that took out all the photos of our wedding, children, and celebrations, and duplicated the entire stack of them.


    While L was sleeping, I spent the night carefully reprogramming a copy of a wooden statute so that it is a copy of L with Jack and Jill just after they'd both blown out their cakes. I know I'm not the photographer that she is, but my skills were certainly enough to capture the moment. It's also a sculpture that could never exist in the world we came from.


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    As I reach under my visor to wipe away the tear that's threatening to fall, L interrupts my reminiscing as she lifts her head from where she fell asleep against my shoulder. As I spot her confused expression I ask, "Are you ok?"


    L looks around in confusion, "What happened?"


    On the other side of the white van, Newter looks up from his phone, "You fell asleep. The kids are asleep too."


    L looks over at Jack and Jill sleeping against each other while strapped into the harnesses that are attached to the sides of the van. At her incredulous expression, Emily chuckles, "We just had this conversation with Taylor. Humans in this world can sleep in just about any position."


    My portrait turns yellow as I squirm slightly and minimize it, "I forgot ok. It's not like sleeping sitting up is common."


    Melanie turns around on the passenger seat and calls back, "We're just pulling up to the Guild building, do you have your documents?"


    I pull the brown envelope dad almost forgot to give me yesterday out of my inventory. The photos were a much better gift than I thought they would be.


    Melanie nods and turns back to the front as she rolls down the window. I can hear some indistinct conversation that ends when she lifts up her phone and shows the person outside something. A moment later the van moves forward again, down a slope into an underground space, uh, parking lot.


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    After a long few days of interviews and testing at the Guild building in Quebec, and several hours into what should be the final meeting, L bashes her head gently against the back of the chair she's sitting in as Taylor, Dragon, and a couple of the onsite scientists continue to blithely ignore the rest of the room as they've devolved into technobabble with the occasional Simlish term that she recognizes. Fortunately Jack and Jill are both with Faultline's team as they don't speak English.


    Plaintively, she looks at Agents Barry and Thatcher, who are supposed to be managing this interview, "Please, stop them before I start making people undress."


    Thatcher raises his eyebrows, "You can do that?"


    L rolls her eyes as she waves her hand in the air with motes of magic following it as she casts Minionize and sends a command. Then Professor Fraser starts to remove her clothes as she keeps talking.


    As the conversation falls silent, L nods, "Yes I can. Anyone that understand magic as Adept do, could make spell do that."


    She takes the spell book for Minionize out of her inventory and duplicates it, "This instructions and theory for spell. You keep. Can speak about living now?"


    Thatcher looks at the tome as though it's a live hand grenade, before tearing his gaze away from it to meet L's gaze, "Can everyone do this?"


    L shrugs, "Only if study. Most learn clean and repair, maybe make food, but potion better and easier."


    Agent Barry gestures over to the other side of the room, "What about that?"


    L smiles indulgently at Taylor, "Taylor, uh, work with science…"


    "Scientist?"


    "Yes, scientist. Also work computer, make game and machine. Uh, many more jobs too."


    Agent Barry nods looks at Professor Fraser, who is trying to cover herself up, before politely averting his gaze "Professor, did the test results come back?"


    Fraser nods jerkily, "The RFLP tests confirm that Mrs Faba is likely to be Mr Hebert's daughter."


    "What about their status as parahumans?"


    Dragon blinks a couple of times on the screen and looks off to one side, "According to the report, inconclusive due to a large amount of anomalous material situated between the cranial hemispheres and at the base of the spine."


    Taylor shrugs, "It's probably what the players use to control us, and allows us to see the system interface."


    Agent Barry slams his hand against the table as he shouts, "How are you so calm about this?"


    L watches at Taylor takes off her helmet and sweeps her hair over her ears, "I'm calm because it was either learn to accept it, or go insane, and I didn't go insane. According to the interface I'm nearly 4,000 days old. But time moves funny when you're player controlled, and other families experience around 13 days for every day that we do. But only when they're not directly interacting with a player-controlled person."


    L shakes her head, "It didn't change for me until you took me out on a date. It was a wonderful couple of hours, and a whole day had passed. I'm glad our player arranged proper wedding, gave time to train replacement rather than rely on system download."


    Agent Thatcher cocks his head as the minionize spell wears off, and Professor Fraser dives for her clothes. Referring to his notes he asks "System download, I don't think that came up in your interviews?"


    L looks at Taylor who shrugs. Pinching the bridge of her nose she thinks for a moment before saying, "When important sim, person, when person die, ah, not expected, replacement given knowledge needed to fill role. Very few roles important like this, uh. How do I say Sage of Magic?"


    Taylor thinks for a moment, "Sage or Guru probably."


    "Sage of Magic work to prevent magic university falling apart further. Better important than key. Key sim not able die or stop being key."


    Taylor nods in understanding and adds, "I think I mentioned something like this in my interviews, about how I suddenly just knew some necessary information when I became a scientist."


    Thatcher, checks his notes, "Dragon, Professor Fraser, you were both here to evaluate their knowledge and technology. Is it tinkertech?"


    Professor Fraser sticks her head above the table to grab her notes, "I'll have to get back to the university and get some computer time to run some simulations, but I think it will pan out."


    Dragon nods, "They use a manufacturing method that I don't understand, but I believe that Mrs Faba does understand it."


    Taylor shrugs, "It's just direct additive construction using direct placement through tunnelling from feedstock. It's not like we created things ex-nihilo, even the limited energy to matter conversions we do do makes sense. Not like the system controlled building that comes out of nowhere with no discernable source of energy or matter. The wormhole research my lab was working on came out of trying to detect how the system does it."


    Patiently, Dragon says, "While it make sense to you, I believe you stated at the beginning of the interview that it didn't make sense until you became a scientist."


    L puts her face in her hands, "It like being Sage of Magic then. I no remember how maintain realm, just that did. Know was close to understand before be sage and was obvious after became sage."


    Ronan McLoed, the other scientist, groans, "Great, more nightmare fuel. Thanks. The PRT is going to lose their collective shit when we finish doing the knowledge transfer."


    L's eyebrows scrunch as she asks, "Why?"


    Ronan looks down at his notes, "You come from a society where approximately 1% of the population is Mastered to a level that would make Heartbreaker green with envy. Your society sounds like someone read 1984 and decided that they weren't trying hard enough. Come on, you can't even swear, and your language doesn't even have the concept of freedom. Your scientific and technical development are so far beyond ours that death isn't even permanent. Whoever is controlling your society is even further advanced from that. I might not be the theoretical physicist that Professor Fraser is, or the technical genius that Dragon is. But I've dealt with enough tinkers to know when someone understands their shit, and when they're bullshitting to cover the fact they have no fucking clue how they built their latest offense against science and engineering. This is ignoring the fact that they have working time travel, not just a theoretical understanding of time, the ability to build actual fucking time machines. I can only assume that they either never find us, or there's some sort of limitation on time travel that means they can't just travel 6k years into the past and conquer the world before we even know that we need to raise a resistance to it."


    Thatcher asks, "Why time travel?"


    Ronan points at L, "Because L, and their children are here. That rules out a Matrix scenario where Taylor, sorry Mrs, soon to be Professor Faba PhD winner of the Nobel prize for Physics, lived in a simulation for god knows how many years."


    Dragon says, "124."


    "124 years, christ, humans don't live that long. Then she was spat out and returned to Earth Bet with all the talents and knowledge she earned in the simulation."


    Agent Barry mildly asks, "Matrix?"


    Ronan waves his hand, "An Aleph imported film about a dystopian future where the majority of the human race lives in vats to provide electricity to the ruling AI programs. There's lots of moral and philosophical nuance to it that didn't resonate on Earth Bet. But every so often you'll get a tinker who thinks it would be a good idea to try and make it a reality. If the PRT doesn't manage to talk sense into them, then someone will hire the Dragon Slayers to hunt them down, or they'll be pressganged into a villain organization and have sense beaten into them. Anyway, from the sounds of things, their society wouldn't even need to use humans as batteries, as they've already cracked fusion and better power sources. That's before we even start on magic, I can't believe I'm even talking about magic seriously. A grantable power that's had no discernable effect on the brains of our volunteers. Yet with minimal coaching allows them to fire kinetic bolts and shield against them."


    Taylor looks over at L, "Volunteers?"


    L nods, "I only able do two before exhausted, as no look for motes make easier."


    Agent Barry says, in a deceptively mild tone, "Mr McLoed, is there a point to this?"


    Ronan glances down at his notes, "Ah…"


    Agent Barry nods, "Do we have enough to take to the UN as proof that they are dimensional travellers, and that Mrs Faba hasn't broken any international laws in doing so?"


    Dragon nods and adds, "I would also like to recommend that they limit the proliferation of their droids, AI, and computer technology, as we do not currently have the capability to prevent them from accessing virtually any device they choose to due to the prevalence of what we call quantum computing."


    L blinks a couple of times, "What computing? No understand that term."


    Dragon looks in L's direction kindly, "Quantum, from the Latin Quantus, meaning 'how many'. It means the smallest amount of something. In science, Quantum physics is the study of physics at the smallest scales. It seems like your computers are all using what we would call quantum computing. Mr McLoed, if you would."


    Ronan nods, "As Mrs Faba is a natural US citizen, I recommend that the Canadian government gives her a Lab and accommodation while we're waiting for the UN to process their claim. I further recommend that we patent everything she produces in her name, and license it under generous terms."


    Dragon nods as the screen splits and a large woman appears on the other half of the screen, "Good afternoon, Mrs and Mrs Faba, I'm Narwhal, the leader of the Guild. Agent Barry, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm running short of time before a scheduled meeting. I've been following this meeting on and off. I am going to be recommending that the Canadian government grant your family Canadian citizenship, as the first official contact with you has been in Canada." She looks down at something as she continues, "I understand that there are reasons why you may wish to live over the border in Maine. However, we will be approaching you both with offers of employment with the Guild in a powered or unpowered role. Whether you choose to affiliate with the Guild or not, I would recommend not setting up a business in the USA. As they have laws against parahumans running businesses that could unfairly compete with non-parahuman businesses. The laws here are much fairer in that respect. If only because they have to prove that you're using parahuman powers in a way that can't be replaced by mundane technology and engineering if you die."


    L shares a glance with Taylor before saying, "Any reason why not live near Taylor Father and work in this world, er, country?"


    Narwhal chuckles, "Apart from customs and commuting time, not at all."


    L shrugs, "Know Transportilate, travel time negligible."


    Narwhal and Ronan both make a note as Agent Barry glances down and says, "That's your teleportation power?"


    Taylor nods, "It is."


    Narwhal nods, and looks back at something below the camera, "Our legal team has also advised that there is no legal precedent for time travel. Current legal theory is that you are likely to be legally the same age you were when you left. Your children's aptitude tests put them at High School level for the most part, but lacking in key areas of knowledge. So, they'll likely need to complete at least a year of middle school in whichever country you settle in. Taylor, if you are declared legally 15, then you will need to be in High School until you're 17 if you live in Maine. In Quebec it would be 16. After that you could take your equivalency if you haven't already passed your final exams. I'm sorry to say that they've also advised that your appearance is likely to count against you in this respect, as you look like you've only been away for a few years."


    Taylor says, "Beep. Um, sorry about that. That sounds like it will be a whole new bundle of fun."


    Narwhal nods, "I understand, L, they recommend that you also study for your GED and get it at the earliest opportunity. The final thing, before I leave the local office to discuss your temporary accommodation, is that your droids need to undergo a sapiency test. I'm not sure what that is, but the legal department have raised it as a legal test that came about after Eagleton in the USA and the Three Blasphemies in Europe. If they pass the test, then they would be considered to be independent life forms and granted all the rights and responsibilities involved in that. We understand that their programming compels them to have an owner, but the law isn't so simple. Any questions?"


    Taylor nods, "Does this mean that we've passed?"


    Narwhal nods, "It wasn't a pass or fail sort of interview. Most of the tests and interviews were to establish whether you were actually dimensional travelers or not and if you were currently being controlled, or had been conditioned to attack Earth Bet in any way, including through contact with the Simurgh. We brought Professor Fraser in as an Expert for this meeting after she passed the background checks needed."


    "You mentioned Canadian Citizenship?"


    Narwal smiles, "I did, and that is despite anything that the UN interdimensional taskforce decides. We are going to push for L to be declared an adult, regardless of your legal status, along with recognizing your marriage. Though you might need to retake your maiden name and remarry once you're legally old enough. Interestingly, there is a note on your file that says a PhD doesn't actually require a GED or have any age requirements. That might be something to talk to Professor Fraser about during the waiting period. Now I really do have to go I'm afraid, as I have another scheduled meeting."


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    Dragon has her avatar massage it's temples as Colin connects to their private meeting.


    "Afternoon Dragon, I'm looking forward to working on the tracking software."


    Dragon grimaces, "I'm not sure I'll be much help."


    Colin looks up with concern, "Why?"


    Dragon wants to say, 'Because one of my blade servers terminally overheated and I've got thermal errors on a couple of others after trying to understand PhD level physics earlier.' Instead she says, "I've got a headache after a discussion of science way above my level."


    Colin frowns, "Oh, anything interesting?"


    "Only if you want to discuss extending quantum tunnelling over several yards for a very modest expenditure of energy. Or how quantum entanglement can be induced in two existing atoms."


    "That should be impossible."


    "Do you know of Professor Fraser from the University of Quebec?"


    Colin shakes his head as he taps at his keyboard, "I've never heard of her."


    "She's a theoretical physicist that specializes in quantum dynamics. She and the person we were talking to were quite happy about discussing this and how to provide a practical proof. I tried to keep up, I really did, as it came out of a brief discussion about computer chips."


    "Why computer chips?"


    "To rapidly set the initial conditions for a quantum computation, then read out the answer without disturbing the qbits. It then moved on to using tunnelling to move individual atoms into position during manufacturing."


    "Teleportation?"


    Dragon shakes her head, "No, apparently that's a different set of laws, this is specifically persuading atoms that they should be a few yards away from where they currently are."


    Colin rubs his temples as he grabs a notepad and starts scribbling out equations and occasionally looking something up on his computer. After nearly an hour he looks up, and says, "Dragon?"


    Dragon has her avatar look back at the virtual camera, "Yes Colin?"


    "Do you have the equations?"


    "I've been asked not to share them, as Professor Fraser wants the person to submit them as part of a PhD dissertation. Along with working proof that it works."


    Colin looks at his page of scribbled notes. Then he grinds out, "I look forward to reading their paper. In the meantime, I think I've got something to study during my spare time."
     
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    • Really hope Taylor doesn't end up going back to school, I want to see her start a business.
     
    Cyrus2 said:
    Really hope Taylor doesn't end up going back to school, I want to see her start a business.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Why not both?
    Isiri Pudireach said:
    I don't really see a reason she couldn't at least homeschool, unless something like the Youth Guard is active on Canada.

    Which isn't guaranteed considering it was mentioned that Canada doesn't follow NEPA.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    It is also mentioned that Canada has a similar law that's implemented differently, as in they have to prove that bad things will happen if the parahuman is no longer available.

    What I'm thinking is that the US law allows for a low bar preliminary injunction to prevent the harm from continuing. The injunction can only be overturned by providing proof that this isn't infringing behaviour, or that this could be done by a sufficiently skilled person or group of people. Which is basically the court case.

    The Canadian version requires proof of harm or potential harm before it will prevent the parahuman doing business before the court case. They also have a loser pays legal system.

    This then makes it harder to put parahumans out of business by claiming harm and then dropping the court case once the parahuman is bankrupt.
     
    Queen of Rot and Fungus - 3
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    • Chapter 3


    Amy Dallon huffs in annoyance as her sister steers her towards a table with her sister's friends. I roll my eyes and adjust my book bag so that the poor lass trips over . I blink as my eyes roll right out of my head onto the table.


    Before I can put my eyes back in, I have a good view of Amy tripping over my bag, so I deftly catch the tray, which is quite challenging when your eyes are on the table, and place it blindly on the table behind my eyes. Shit, I grab my head as one of my eyes goes spinning off the table to land beside one of the schools celebrities.


    "Um, can I have my eye back please?"


    I wince as Amy picks up my eye and turns it to face her. As it adjusts to the light I realize that she's staring at it curiously, and she has a very pretty iris pattern. "You have pretty eyes."


    Suddenly Victoria looms over her sister's shoulder and I yelp as she reaches out and snatches the eye out of Amy's hand, "That hurt! Give me my eye back!"


    I reach out blindly towards them, as my other eye is precariously balanced on an edge of the table, and I don't want to risk knocking it off. Suddenly Vicky drops my eye and I get a flash of my face as it rolls out her hand. Lunging off the chair I curse as my other eye drops off the table onto the floor and rolls under a seat.


    Fortunately the eye that Vicky dropped ends up pointing towards the ceiling so it only takes a couple of seconds before I can see myself again, after which I pick it up and slot it into one of my eye sockets. As I look up, I realize that Amy is kneeling on the floor staring at my face intently while Vicky has dropped her own tray and is floating in the air several yards away, along with all of the students that were sitting nearby.


    I point to one of the chairs beside Amy, "Excuse me, I think my other eye rolled under that chair."


    Amy stares at me for a couple more seconds before she kneels down and looks under the chair, before reaching out and grabbing my other eye. As she looks at the eye, she says, "How?"


    I cock my head to one side, and back a bit when someone behind me gasps, "Sorry, you'll need to be a bit more specific."


    "How is your eye still able to see?"


    I look confused as I say, "It's my eye, so I can see through it."


    "No, I mean how are you able to detach your eye and still see…" She reaches out and grabs my hand.


    I shrug, "I traded away my humanity to a fairy so that they'd let me out of my locker, which was full of contents of every sanitary bin in the school and allowed to marinade over the Christmas break. Of course, the sudden loss of my humanity was a bit of a shock so I went to sleep for a couple of weeks."


    I stop talking as I realize that Amy hasn't heard a word I've said, so I gently take my eye back and poke her a couple of times. When she doesn't respond, I look back at her sister, "Miss Dallon, would you help me get your sister into a chair. Only she's not letting go of my hand."


    When I address Vicky, the spell that seemed to fall over the rest of the cafeteria breaks, and she flies down to help her sister while a couple of other students retch all over their food. Not that I have anything against flies, but I was under the impression that humans usually kept their digestive acids inside their stomach while eating.


    As the thought occurs to me, I point at one of the students and ask Vicky, "Vicky, is it normal for humans to predissolve their food by vomiting on it? As I thought that was something only flies did."


    Vicky looks at me strangely, before covering her mouth and flying for the exit. At least Amy's on a chair now. It takes me a few seconds to get her to let go of my hand, but once I do, I split the small harvest of mushrooms I managed to put together after my last crop was destroyed. Then I take back the small mushroom with the most exquisite flavor as I remember it's poisonous to humans.


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    Bob looks down at his clipboard outside one of 4 tenement buildings the city manages. "Right, Joe's team obviously over did it on the temporary fixes. We had complaints from 203, 205, 208, 301, 304, and 305 that there was so much foam that they couldn't use the stairs. Jon, Paul, you check the first floor, knock on the doors if there's anyone in, and make sure the foam is flush with the walls, once you're done head up to the second floor. Steve, we're checking the halls and stairs, then we'll handle the third floor. We've got an hour for the job, so be quick."


    Once he's got the nod from the others, Bob uses his key to open the front door and the four of them walk in.


    As he scans the entrance lobby, Bob sighs as he spots a glowing blue fungus hanging from the ceiling. "Right, it looks like Joe's team didn't do the best job. Make a note of anything like that, and we'll report it up the chain."


    Several minutes later, Bob peers at a barely legible imprint of a door number, "Steve, what number does this say?"


    Steve frowns, "Surely they should have reported missing the brass numbers."


    Bob huffs, "Steve…"


    "Ok, ok, hold your horses. Um, 183 maybe, could be 123."


    Bob grimaces, "Shit. There should only be 20 apartments on each floor. I'm calling it in."


    Steve looks around the hall critically, "Bob, is it me, or have we not seen any foam?"


    Bob shakes his head as he raises his radio to his mouth, "Control, come in." as he lets go of the button, adds, "I've seen plenty of mold too."


    There's a crackly hiss from the radio as Amy says, "Control here, over."


    "Control, I can barely here you. I need to know, how many apartments are there in Mermaid House? Over."


    There's silence for a few moments before the radio hisses to life again, "There are 18 on each floor, evens on the inside and odds on the outside. Four floors, for 72 total apartments. Over."


    "Shit!" Bob presses the button, "Control, we are looking at the door to what could be apartment 183 or 123, please tell me that's on your list. Over."


    "Negative Bob. Over."


    "I'm pulling out, Jon do you copy? Over?"


    When there's no answer, Amy says, "I'm contacting the PRT. Over"


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    During the afternoon break, I'm sliding down the railings to the ground floor when I hear someone crying on the second floor. I jump off the railing and walk down the next flight of stairs. There I see a guy with damp hair sitting on the last step hugging his school bag.


    I sit down next to them and ask, "Are you leaking?"


    The guy looks up at me strangely, "No! I'm not leaking. What do you want?"


    I give that some thought, before I say, "I want to have a successful court."


    "You, what?"


    I shrug, "It's what I want. What do you want?"


    "Why do you care?"


    "I don't, not really. But I'm not allowed to make deals in the school, so I can at least listen to you."


    "Huh?"


    "I don't want any drugs."


    I smile, "I don't blame you. Terrible things."


    "Huh?"


    At his confusion I explain, "If you need to take them, it means you're sick."


    "Are you making fun of me?"


    "I don't think so. Why, does it feel like I am? Anyway, why were you leaking?"


    "As if you don't know."


    "Well, I wouldn't be asking if I did. If it helps, I'm new here. I used to go to Winslow."


    "Oh. So you're not…"


    I smile, "I'm not lots of things. I'm not a dog, cat, rabbit, plane, rocket…"


    "Sane?"


    I pause, "I believe I am actually sane."


    "So you didn't see me beg Panacea to turn me into a Girl last year."


    I shake my head, "I didn't, though I'd imagine you'd get better results by asking nicely."


    "Is it really that much to ask to have a body that matches who I am?"


    I tap his knee as the bell goes, "I'll hang around outside the gates after school. If you're willing to make a deal, I can probably help you."


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    After school the guy sidles up to me as I'm leaning against the bus stop, "Are you a cape?"


    I shake my head, "No. Are you interested in a deal?"


    "I'm not interested in doing drugs."


    I smile too widely, and bring it back to human norms, "I don't deal in drugs. Tell you what, why don't we do an easy trade to start with. Your name for a new name. I've got several I could trade you, Emma, Sophia, Madison, Julia, Lauren, Buffy…"


    "Sophia's on my list, um, the one for if I ever become a girl that is."


    My smile widens again, "Great, so I'll give you the name Sophia and you'll give me your name. Deal?"


    The guy looks at me for a moment, before saying, "Sure, why not."


    "You'll need to give me your name."


    "Oh, right, I'm Darren."


    I nod, "That's a nice name, and a fair trade. Have a good evening Sophia. If you want a bigger trade look me up outside school."


    I turn and skip off as Sophia looks at me with a confused expression on his face.


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    Lt O'Donnell grimaces as she rereads the brief for the current call in the back of a van. As the van comes to a halt, she's the first one out the side door and she jogs over to the main entrance of the tenement building, and the PRT officer that's standing outside.


    "What's the situation?"


    The officer salutes before saying, "Team 1 has set up in the entrance hall, and is using an unmanned drone to search the corridors for the missing people. Team 2 is dealing with the cordon and residents."


    O'Donnell glances down at the printout she was given before she left HQ, "Officer, let the residents in and have Team 1 politely ask them if they can help find the missing people."


    "Ma'am, are you sure?"


    O'Donnell shakes her head slightly, but says, "According to the notes on the only suspected… 'other' that lives here. Any issues should only affect people they consider intruders. Guests and residents should be fine."


    "Other?" When O'Donnell just looks at them, they continue, "Yes Ma'am."


    O'Donnell takes a printout of a photo off her clipboard, "If this girl turns up, let me know. She's the 'Other'."


    "She's a cape?"


    "Not according to my notes. I'm going to check on Team 1, and try something that sounds crazy."


    O'Donnell walks through the door into the entrance hall and watches Team 1 carefully feeding out a spool of cable while they watch a screen. After a few minutes, and three right turns, she walks around them and touches the wall by the lift.


    After a moment, she takes off her glove and puts her hand back on the wall. It only takes a few seconds, but she fancies that she can feel the wall moving under her hand, as though it's breathing, or it has a pulse.


    "I don't believe I'm doing this. I am known as Lt O'Donnell, and I am a public liaison officer for the PRT. During this visit we are not here to cause any damage to the building, or bring any harm to the residents of the building. We only wish to find and retrieve the men that came earlier. Once they are found, we will remove them from the building before leaving ourselves."


    When nothing happens for a few minutes, O'Donnell swallow hard and checks her clipboard. After taking a couple of deep breaths to force herself to calm down, she looks down and reads out, "I am willing to stand as surety to prove the honesty of my words as long as you promise to aid our recovery of the men that comprised the city work team, and release me as soon as all other members of the PRT and the work team have left this building."


    After a long half minute, the empty elevator opens beside her. O'Donnell swears under her breath and shouts, "Sergeant Six Two, I am offering myself as a hostage to our good behavior. You are to evacuate the work crew and then ensure that all PRT personnel are accounted for outside the building. Do not cause any damage to the building or remove anything that the PRT didn't bring into the building. Do you copy?"


    The Sergeant looks over and gives a thumbs up.


    O'Donnell shouts back, "I am going to need oral confirmation Sergeant ."


    The Sergeant touches a button on their helmet, and their anonymous voice says, "Challenge, Alpha Charlie Six Fiver Three."


    O'Donnell scowls and shouts, "I love the cafeteria mock meatloaf."


    "Confirmed, for the record ma'am, this is nuts."


    O'Donnell takes half a step into the elevator, "This is what we get paid for. Civilian lives come first. If I don't make it, tell Armsmaster he was wrong."


    O'Donnell finishes her step in the Elevator and shudders as the door closes in front of her.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    As I skip around the corner to my home, I slow to a walk when I spot the crowd of PRT vans and humans wandering around aimlessly. As I'm getting closer, one of the faceless PRT humans walks up to me with their bubble like heads and I grab hold of my hand to stop myself from reaching up to pop it.


    To cover for my sudden urge, I give a wide, happy smile, with lots of teeth. When the human pauses, I remember that they don't have sharp pointed teeth, so I close my lips.


    Their strangely robotic voice asks, "Are you Miss Hebert?"


    I smile again, and then remember that humans can only smile once at a time. So I stop smiling, "That's one of the names I have at the moment."


    "Ah, um. I have been instructed to inform you that we have removed the work crew from the building, and all PRT Personnel apart from Lt O'Donnell have also left the building."


    I feel confused. What work crew? I take my head off to give it a good scratch, and say, "I have no idea what you're talking about."


    Oh, their heads aren't completely bubble shaped, they're more like egg shaped. And apparently my head is absolutely fascinating, as I can move it around and I can see them turning to follow it.


    After a few seconds I start getting a little motion sick, so I put my head back on my shoulders, and the PRT human thumps their chest a couple of times. After some very odd sounding coughing, I say, "You should really see a doctor about that cough."


    The human mutters, "I need to see a shrink, not a doctor." Before I can say anything, they say more loudly, "Lt O'Donnell made a deal with the building so that we could remove the men without putting anything at risk. Uh, please see why she hasn't returned and inform us of anything we've done to break the agreement."


    I frown, and look around in confusion, as I parse the request. Oh, right, they made a deal with the building, and they want me to act as an arbiter. That makes sense, as it is my building. I nod and walk past him and through the front door. A couple of paces inside the entry hall, I pause and turn back to the front door thoughtfully. Don't humans normally need to open and close doors? Right. I'm trying to pretend to be human.


    I walk out through the front door, turn around, open the front door and walk through the doorway before closing it behind me. That's better. How do they keep remembering this stuff? Oh right, arbiter.


    "The PRT humans outside want to know if they've broken their agreement with you."


    I can feel how smug the building feels, so I ask, "They also wanted to know why Lt O'Donnell hasn't returned."


    I raise an eyebrow and look at the lift when I get what feels like a shrug from the building. "Well, maybe she likes it in there. I don't know. I'll ask."


    Walking over to the elevator, I press the call button and the door opens to reveal a woman sitting against the back wall. As I step into the elevator, she looks up, "Can I go now?"


    I look at her critically as the door closes behind me, "You look like you can, and I can't see anything stopping you."


    "But the door won't open."


    I press the door open button, and the door opens. Then I press the door close button, and the door closes. "It looks like it opens fine."


    The woman stares at the button panel hard before she pushes herself to her feet and walks over. "That button wasn't there earlier."


    I roll my eyes sideways, so that they can't fall out, "Of course not, that was the terms of the deal. The building put the button back once the deal was over."


    The woman looks at me as if she wants to say something, then she tries to stab the button with her finger. She fails, as her nails aren't remotely long or sharp enough, but she does depress the button and the door opens. She then stalks out of the elevator, and opens the front door before walking out and slamming it behind her.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Sounds like Taylor is going to make another successful deal with Sophia when she returns to school. Also the building is nice to keep to the deal.
     
    Wild Worm Thesis - Chapter 3
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 3





    Heather and I are walking to the Gym after school when a group of men walk out from between a couple of buildings. As I spot their body language I gently push Heather behind me and take Ranma's 'not a stance' with my hands in my pockets. "Heather, call the police. I'll handle this."


    The guy holding a baseball bat over his shoulder laughs, "You'll handle this? See, we don't appreciate being made to look like idiots."


    "See there's your problem, nobody needs to make you look like idiots."


    The guy carries on as one of his smarter friends frowns, "We especially don't appreciate being shown up by bitches like you."


    "Well it's not my fault if your training regime is lifting a bowl of chips off the counter and doing curls with the TV remote."


    Ooh, that one seems to have been simple enough for him to understand. As his face turns to anger, I add, "Looks like you're simple as well as slow."


    The guy's face falls as he pushes through his friends and swings his bat towards my head. "I'll show you who's slow!"


    I 'lazily' duck under the swing and push his hand further around at the same time I hook his back foot, causing him to stumble into one of his friends. As I put my hand back into my pocket I say, "Oh Come on! I've seen toddlers with better balance than you."


    The guy pushes himself to his feet and growls, "What are you waiting for, get her!"


    As he says that, the other seven guys put a variety of brass knuckles over their fists and the first one charges in with a badly telegraphed haymaker. Jumping into the air, I land on his shoulders as he's over balanced. As he's falling to the floor I jump off his shoulders to kick the next guy in the face, and incidentally also jump over a grab. I use the kick to push off into a backflip over the grabbing guy, and crouch down under another punch as I kick the side of his kneecap.


    As the puncher pulls back his hand, I push myself into a jump towards him, only to have to twist away from a swing of the bat. I pull my hands out of my pockets so that I can push off the bat at the same time I redirect my momentum into a spinning kick at the person trying to grab my leg.


    I frown minutely as they don't give me enough momentum to fully dodge the next punch. So I swing my arm around to bring my opposite shoulder backwards, blunting the force of the punch as I lash out and grab the extended arm as I fall backwards to the ground into a roll. As I'm coming out of the roll I launch the man into the bat wielder with both legs only to have a guy grab me from behind while I'm upside-down.


    Damn it, I should be better than this.


    Bending backwards, I put my arms through his legs and pull myself into a pike position while holding onto his ankles. I hit my head on the ground as he collapses, but hey, at least he's not holding me anymore. A quick strike to his solar plexus both lifts him off me, and stops him from being an immediate problem for the rest of the fight.


    When another attack doesn't come in, I register the sound of sirens coming towards us as the last few guys cut and run back through the building. Woozily I stand up and look around as Heather darts forward to duck her head under my arm. As my eyes start to refocus, I spot a couple of Arcadia kids putting their cell phones away on the other side of the street as a couple of police cars pull up. Heh, must be because we're in downtown. I'd normally expect them to take 30 minutes or more, assuming they even bother turning up.


    Heather looks at me worriedly, "Taylor, are you ok?"


    I nod my head a couple of times, the second one far more gingerly as the world spins a little, "I will be. What about you? Did any of them get you?"


    Heather shakes her head, "No. What was that?"


    "That's what I'd like to knooow!" the cop walking towards us trips over one of the groaning guys legs, as they move, and spills his coffee over both Heather and myself.


    I clutch my head as I grow a couple of inches, "Owie! Note to self, don't do that in future."


    As the cop is gathering his wits, I become aware of the fact that Heather has just started rubbing her hands over my torso and abs.


    "What just happened?"


    I laugh and clutch my head, "Heh, ow. I'm a cape with the most useless power ever. Just add water, and presto, guy. Heather, can you stop that please?"


    Heather hums, "Mmm, warm."


    I cough as my cheeks pink slightly, "Um, is there anything else you wanted to know?"


    The cop looks over the road to where one of his companions is talking to a couple of students that have their phones out, then at the cop that's calling for an ambulance. "Do you have any idea why they attacked you?"


    I shrug as I try to stop Heather moving my bra around. I can't help the whine in my voice as I say, "Heather! Sorry, um, right attack. I think they were the idiots that were at the assault course on Saturday. I tried to encourage them to go faster, I guess they didn't appreciate it. Heather! Would you stop that please?"


    I shake my head as the last of my headache clears up, thank god for ki healing, and point at my bag with my foot while I try to keep Heather from putting her hand under my now-slightly-too-short shirt. "Um, I have a thermos of cold water in the pocket of my bag. Would you be able to pour a little over my head pleAse?"


    The cop chuckles but doesn't move as Heather mumbles, "So firm." Bastard.


    "So, in your own words, what happened here?"


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    When we finally get to the Gym, it's just in time for my therapy appointment. I'm absolutely never going to tell anyone that most days it's me pressing myself against a wall while a k-k-ki baby demon plays in a basket on the other side of the room. Desensitization training they call it, I call it torture. They also tell me I'm doing better than I was. By which they mean I only take half an hour to recover from the 15 minute session while they talk to me about my responses and how to bring them under control. Which is why I do my first routines as a guy, as there's no way I can deal with that on top of my daily sessions.


    All of this is to explain why I'm currently so surprised at the disappointed look I'm getting from Heather, who has just looked over from where she's coaching Chloe and Darren. Wait, why are they here? Chloe, I sort of understand as she's in my class, and on the gym team, but Darren? He's an upperclassman, uh senior, senpai, damn it! He's a year ahead of me, and bent as a $3 note. And now he's walking towards me.


    Darren points at one of the guys on the rings, "Hey Taylor, I hope you don't mind me turning up, but I saw you doing track and field last Tuesday, and Joey said you do Gym here every evening."


    Last Tuesday, oh, right, that's when the hot tap failed and soaked everyone as we were heading out. Stupid curse. "Um, yeah? I am."


    "He also said that you've been giving them some hands on instruction first thing in the afternoon. I'd really appreciate if you could give me some tips to help me at football."


    I squeak and dart around to hide behind Heather, "Um, Heatherisgettinggoodenoughtoteachyouthebasics, bye!"


    As Darren starts walking towards me again, I rush over to the isometric bars and leap up onto the higher of the two bars. Once I get over the wave of exhaustion that comes from the unconscious expenditure of Ki, I wobblingly start my warmup kata safely out of reach of any grabbing hands.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Heather looks from Darren to Taylor, and with great difficulty ignores the fact that she just cleared over eight feet in a single jump.


    "Darren, what did you do?"


    "What? He looked so good when he threw that shotput 100 yards on Tuesday."


    "Darren! She's not a guy."


    "Sure he is, and I can even take her home to meet my folks."


    "I saw her first. Now get warming up or get out, I'm not losing out on my training because you can't keep it in your pants. Chloe, Chloe!"


    Chloe wipes a bit of drool from her mouth as she turns around, "Yes Heather?"


    "Damn it, not you too?"


    Chloe chuckles, "What? She's hot."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    After therapy on Wednesday, I'm about to head out to the city when Heather pops up from a chair, "Hey Taylor, do you mind if I join you?"


    I look at her stance critically, after a moment I shake my head, "I thought you had gymnastics today."


    Heather smiles, "I got my equipment routines done first, and John is happy with my progress on the floor. I just need more practice with the floor equipment."


    "I'll work it into the routine…"


    I manage to get out, "Ah, shit." Before Heather has glomped me with a squeal of happiness, "You will, oh thank you."


    From the doorway to the Gym floor, Chloe says, "Heather, aren't you coming to practice your floor routine?"


    Heather shakes her head, "No, John says I'm doing fine with all the practice I get in the week. I'm going to do Parkour with Taylor."


    I try to get away from Heather without touching her inappropriately, but she's like an octopus. "Uh, you're not really strong enough for parkour, and you don't know how to fall properly yet."


    Heather turns to face me with wide, glistening eyes, "But your exercises have been helping me so much. What do I need to do?"


    "Gah! Those eyes should be illegal! No, stop it."


    I yelp when I feel a hand caress my butt, and Chloe says, "You're so cute when you're flustered, maybe I should start turning up every afternoon too."


    I lift my arms over my head and do a box splits while Heather is distracted, allowing me to slither out of her grip and head to the exit before she's noticed I've gone. Fortunately, she's too busy having a go at Chloe for taking liberties to notice.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    As I'm making my way east to towards the factory district, I'm beaned in the head by a flying mug. A second later I get a face full of warm coffee as I turn to see where it came from. Great, it's just a couple arguing in an apartment. I'd say what are the odds, but curse.


    I find a convenient aircon unit to crouch down behind and grab my, empty, thermos, flask, from, my, backpack.


    "God damn it!" The stupid fucking lid cracked! I bought a stainless steel one specifically so it wouldn't break, and… A week, that's how long it lasted.


    I rest my forehead in my palm for a few seconds, before taking a clean Chinese style top out of a plastic bag, and putting the stained t-shirt in a nappy sack so that the coffee doesn't set before I can get it home. It's almost enough to make me wish I had the opposite curse, but at least I can go out while it's raining without worrying about my femininity.


    "It's ok Taylor, it's got a 30 day warranty at the store. You can take it back and get a new one on the way to Gym tomorrow."


    I hop down to ground level and start hunting around for a puddle or something, as we live in a poorly maintained port city there have to be puddles somewhere, right?


    After nearly half an hour of searching, a group of skin heads rushes out of a side alleyway and make a poor attempt at jumping me. After a brief scuffle that doesn't even last a minute, I'm left standing on top a pile of groaning bodies scratching my head.


    "Is it me, or were these guys pushovers?"


    A buzzing voice from the Alleyway says, "That's because they're green. I was here seeing if any of them have what it takes. You just picked a bad day to wander around chinky."


    I turn around to face the woman that's wearing a cage over her face, "Hey, take that back. I just like the fashion cos it's easy to move in."


    The woman shrugs, "Sucks to be you then, we just knocked over a couple of ABB drug pushers. But now you've knocked em over I can't let you leave without taking the blood price."


    As she reaches behind her and pulls a pair of kama, (one handed sickles with a straight blade that's sharp on the inside edge) from a harness on her back, I let my backpack fall from my back and bounce down to the road in excitement. One of the guys screams in pain as the bag lands on his leg, "Fuck! What do you have in this, lead weights?"


    I nod, "Yes actually, how did you guess? Anyway, any chance of knowing who I'm facing?"


    I wait patiently while the woman fishes out her buzzer again, and places it against her throat, "I'm Cricket, and you are?"


    "Ranma." Slips out before I even think about it, so I just roll with it as it's as good a name as any for my guy side, "You can call me Ranma."


    "That's a chink name."


    I shrug, "It's not like Cricket's your real name. We doing this or not, as it's been a bad evening and they weren't even good enough to work up a sweat."


    As Cricket dances into weapon range, I analyse her movements looking for tells. To the old me, her tells would be non-existent, but having lived in Ranma's head for two years, she might as well be shouting the moves she's about to make. I duck down under a well telegraphed slash and turn the motion into a hands free cartwheel to jump over the other blade while bringing my hand up to push myself up off the follow up kick while trying to use a bit of ki to transmit my weight through to the floor rather than her foot.


    Something I'm not quite successful with as I end up pushing myself away from her rather than upwards. As I land, I nod with an insolent smirk, "Nice moves, if you put in a little more practice, you might even reach competent."


    Cricket doesn't even blink as she brings her kama back around in a more controlled strike aiming at my head while I drop down underneath the blade before bending backwards to avoid the second blade that she punches out like a nightstick. I turn my movement into a kick at her wrist while her arm is extended as I roll to my feet again.


    After her second failed attacks, Cricket's stance tightens up and she starts to use her kama to aim for my arms and legs while I try to close the distance without letting her blades catch my limbs.


    She has superhuman reflexes, and I have ki.


    She has years of experience street fighting, and I have a practical knowledge of martial arts built through thousands of hours of real fights.


    She has weapons, and I have a nearly vertical learning curve.


    As my balance goes sideways, I realize that superhuman reflexes isn't the only thing she has. As I miss a parry, the point of one of her kama scores down my ribs leaving a shallow gash and tearing my shirt along a seam.


    Almost reflexively, I push ki into my S2 organ to fix my balance as I turn my lurch into a roll while the wind blows against my abs. Back flipping away from Cricket, I wave with one hand, "Well it was fun, but it got a bit too serious at the end there. Maybe we can do it again sometime."


    As I grab my backpack and run off, I curse myself. Why did I have to say that? I mean, it was fun, but she's an Empire cape.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Queen of Rot and Fungus - 4
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 4


    Juan shivers in a late hailstorm as he pushes open the door to Mermaid house. It's unusual to find the door to one of these tenements open, so maybe someone's bringing in some shopping or something. Either way, it's better than sleeping on the streets.


    Cautiously he carries his sodden sleeping bag along with the black bin bag that holds everything he owns through the door. Rather than staying on the first floor, he heads up to the second floor and starts looking for a janitors closet. These places always have one, and maybe he can stay here a couple of nights while the bad weather passes.


    He's done almost an entire circuit of the floor before he comes across a door without a number on it. As he tries the door he mutters, "Please be open, please be open."


    Mercifully, the door gives after a moderate shove, and he stumbles into a small hallway to an apartment rather than a janitors closet. Dropping his stuff, he wanders down the corridor one way and looks through the doors, there's three bedrooms a good 12-15 feet deep and probably 9 or 10 feet wide, two on the right side of the corridor, and the last at the end on the left after it turns right. Each room has a simple wooden bed with a lumpy mattress and woolen blanket.


    A bathroom with no external windows is at the corner opposite the main corridor, there's a modern toilet and sink sat next to a brass bath with a single faucet, and not one of those mixer faucets.


    Walking back the other way he finds a kitchen with a weird open brick fireplace with a large bronze box that has a simple latch on the door, next to the fireplace is a more standard sink with a single faucet. On top of the bronze box is a large copper kettle, like you'd see on one of those historical programs they sometimes show. The last door opens into a lounge with a couple of chairs and a couch around a low table.


    "Weird, but at least it's dry. Maybe this shit's from the original building, and they just haven't got around to upgrading it yet. Shit Juan, you're talking to yourself."


    Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Juan hangs his sleeping bag over one of the internal doors and drags his bin bag to the furthest room from the front door before collapsing on the bed in exhaustion.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    As I'm heading out for school, the girl's mother from around the corner walks up to me carrying a loaf of bread, "Hello, are you the girl Libby's been talking about?"


    I frown, "I have no idea, sorry. I've not asked for anyone's names, as it's rather rude to do that to your neighbors."


    "Oh, right, Libby's my daughter, she's six, and she's always running off now she can reach the latch."


    "Is she friends with a Petie?"


    The woman nods, "Little Dahlia's boy from the third floor. Yes, he and Bruno are both thick as thieves, but they don't always invite Libby to play because she's a girl. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for teaching her about mushrooms. It's all she can talk about, well that and being a fairy when she grows up."


    "She keeps getting sidhe and fairy mixed up."


    "What's the difference?"


    "Um, sidhe are like David Bowie in Labyrinth, while most fairies are annoying pests that can talk and pollinate flowers. Like Tinkerbell from Peter Pan. Though Tinkerbell'd be more like a fairy noble than a normal fairy, as she's unusually well-spoken and coherent for a fairy. There're already some gnomes living in the courtyard, so I'm sure that fairies will turn up sooner or later."


    "Oh, you've seen it? I'm glad the city's finally cleared out all the trash down there. I like what they've done with the place, though I didn't know mushrooms could grow that large."


    I wave my arm in a flourish as I bow, "You're welcome. I claimed it after the city put expanded foam everywhere."


    "Good for you. They did an absolutely terrible job with that. What with us complaining about black mold for months, and once the problem had finally gone away, they come in and rip up the walls."


    I nod, "Black mold is unhealthy for humans, that's why the building dealt with it. Anyway, is there anything I can call you other than Libby's mom?"


    "Oh, right, where's my manners. I'm Aliyah Carlson, call me Ali, everyone else does. I baked you a loaf to say thank you for keeping Libby busy, Jaden's at that age where he's just started walking and it's so hard to look after both of them."


    I taste Aliyah's name on my tongue, "That's a lovely name, and I'd love to keep it. But you're a good neighbor, so you can have it back. You can call me Taylor. Oh, and make sure Libby gives names back when people give them to her, as collecting every name is a bad habit to get into."


    "Uh, sure?"


    My watch beeps, and I look down at it and only belatedly remember that humans would lift their wrist because they don't bend like that when Ali squeaks. I straighten back up and give her an apologetic smile, before putting it back on my face, "Ah, sorry. I'm not very good at pretending to be human. But I promised my dad that I'd try. Anyway I need to go to school now before it's too late to walk and I have to catch the bus."


    Ali nods wordlessly as I turn away from her. As I go past the second floor, I note that the building has made a new apartment, so I'll have to check that out when I get back. Either way, I head out of the building into the freezing rain. I mean that the raindrops are freezing in the air, not that it's particularly cold. Though the humans I can see huddled under their umbrellas are all wearing thick coats. Walk or get a coat, walk or get a coat. A human would get a coat.


    I turn around and head back into the building and over to the elevator, "Just grabbing a coat, as all the other humans are wearing theirs."


    The elevator door opens as I get closer, and I pat the inside of the elevator as it takes me straight up to outside my room. "Good building."


    As Ali's left the loaf on the side table that's just inside my door, and it was payment for services rendered, I put the loaf into my bag.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    School is fairly boring as normal until lunch time. I've just arranged half the loaf and the mushrooms I brough with on a plate when Amy Dallon sits down opposite me and holds her hand out palm up. "Eye."


    "I have two."


    "No, I mean, give me one of your eyes."


    "I need both of my eyes."


    "I just want to look at it, and you don't need both of them to eat lunch. Come on, give."


    "Only if you give me one of yours."


    "Yeah, sure whatever."


    I scowl and cross my hands on the table for a moment as I consider what she's requested. I'm not allowed to do deals in the school while I'm a student, but am I the one doing the deal and if I want to accept it, which eye do I want to give her.


    I lift my right hand up to catch my eyes as I tap the back of my head with my left so that my eyes fall out into my palm. I've not even pointed them at each other before Amy's snatched up my left eye.


    Amy screams as my left hand lashes out and plucks the left eye from her face. See how you like it when someone just takes one of your eyes. Her screaming dies down into pained mewling when I put her eye in my left socket, and complete her deal. I guess that answers the question about who was doing the dealing then.


    A moment later I quickly shove my right eye back into my eye socket as Victoria Dallon hauls me out of my chair and raises a fist to my face. She growls "What did you do to my sister?"


    Principal Howell shouts across the cafeteria, "Miss Dallon, put Miss Hebert down right now!"


    Victoria spins around in mid air until my back is towards Principal Howell. Then she says, "But she did something to Amy and I was just asking her what she did."


    I turn my head around to look at the principal as she says, "We ask with our words, not our fists. Put Miss Herbert down and wait outside my office, we will be having words."


    Victoria and I hang in the air for a moment before Amy says, "I can see the ceiling."


    Principal Howell walks closer and shouts, "Now Victoria!"


    A few seconds later my feet touch the ground again and I presume Victoria flies off to the Principal's office. Once she's close enough, Principal Howell says, "Miss Hebert, turn to face me properly."


    I nod and turn my shoulders left and right as I try to remember which way I turned my head. With no better idea, I turn my body clockwise, until the skin on my neck becomes uncomfortably tight, "Oops, wrong way, sorry."


    I turn my body back the other way until everything lines up again. Principal Howell lets out a sigh that sounds very put upon. Then she asks me, "Miss Hebert, please can you tell me what happened?"


    "It's not my fault, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to do the trade, and I'd have gone outside to do it if I had but Amy decided to force the issue."


    "That doesn't tell me what happened. I need you to succinctly describe what happened from the moment Amy Dallon approached you to the moment Victoria Dallon pulled you out of your chair."


    "Well I was…"


    "Succinctly."


    "Amy Dallon sat down opposite me and held out her hand and told me to give her one of my eyes. I refused, as I need both of them. Then she said I only need one to eat lunch, so I responded only if she give me one of hers. She agreed to that, so I popped my eyes out to see if I had a favorite eye. That's when she snatched my left eye out of my hand, so I took her left eye and she screamed. I'd only just put it in my eye socket when Victoria dragged me out of my seat."


    "Miss Dallon, what do you have to say for yourself? Miss Dallon! Amy Dallon!"


    I watch as Amy jerks in her chair at the last usage of her name. Then she looks up and retches as she opens her right eye.


    Principal Howell sighs loudly, "Miss Dallon, put your eye away."


    When Amy looks down at the eye in her hand, I helpfully say, "It goes in your left eye socket."


    Amy sounds a little lost and confused as she says, "But this isn't my eye."


    Principal Howell puts a hand on Amy's shoulder and seems like she's gently resigned as she says, "It is now. Put it in your socket and tell me what you remember of the last 10 minutes."


    Amy looks really awkward as she lifts up the eyeball and fits it into her left eye socket. When she looks up at Principal Howell she breathes, "I can see your stripes."


    Huh? That's weird. I close my right eye and look at Principal Howell, and her stripes have just disappeared. The lights stop flickering slowly too for that matter, and everyone loses their healthy glow. I'm not sure this was a good deal.


    "Miss Dallon, focus. What do you remember of the last 10 minutes?"


    "I saw her and sat down so that I could ask if I could examine her eye, and everything's a little hazy after that. Her biology is impossible."


    I huff, "Hardly, otherwise I wouldn't have biology."


    Principal Howell says, "Miss Hebert, you're not helping. Though, I have to ask, are those mushrooms safe to eat?"


    I look down at my plate before nodding, "I wouldn't bring anything for lunch that wasn't safe to eat."


    There's a pause as Amy reaches across the table for one of my mushrooms, then Principal Howell says, "Miss Dallon! Ask before you take. Miss Hebert, let me rephrase my question. Are those mushrooms safe for humans to eat."


    I think for a moment and pick one up and pop it in my mouth, "They are now."


    There's a very long pause before Principal Howell says, "Miss Hebert, you are no longer allowed to bring anything that you know is poisonous for humans to eat as part of your lunch." I open my mouth to say something, and she adds, "That is a rule, not a guideline. I'll have it added to the posters by next week."


    I slump down into my seat and listlessly pick up one of my mushrooms, "But they're the most tasty ones."


    "What you do or don't eat at home is your business. I need to look out for the wellbeing of the students in this school. And far too many of them would be tempted to sample your home-grown mushrooms without asking."


    There's a loud scraping of chairs, and I look around in confusion as everyone else suddenly seems engrossed in their own food.


    As the principal walks back towards her lunch, I hear her say, "And I thought Victoria was the Dallon we needed to keep an eye on. God help me."


    Amy pulls my attention back to my lunch as she points at one of the mushrooms. She sounds a bit subdued as she asks, "Would I be able to have one of your mushrooms?"


    I shrug as I tear off a little bread and eat it, "Sure, I always bring plenty."


    Amy takes the mushroom and holds it up in front of her as she closes one eye and then the other, "I never realized how pretty they are."


    "I know, that's why I grow my own. This is good bread, I'll have to see if Ali will trade more for mushrooms."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Later, in computer class, I close my right eye and look at the computer monitor. Oh, that's what it's supposed to look like. Not just a little flashing dot chasing across the screen. Maybe it wasn't such a bad deal after all.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • You exist in a universe where aging is non linear, you could just as easily wake up a toddler as you could a teen or elderly person.
  • Threadmarks
    • According to our computers, it started 50 years ago when scientists first created Temporcite at CERN. They had long theorised that there was another boson after the Higgs, this one was related to time rather than mass. Temporcite was an artificial hydrogen atom made with this newly discovered boson at the moment its existence was proven or created, we're not sure which.


    We have pivoted our entire society around the new facts of life, though we lost all of the human population that lived in areas without sufficient population density. It didn't happen overnight, it took maybe a year for the first person to build up a toxic level of Temporcite. By which point quarantine was impossible. Over the next year it spread uncontrollably through the waterways and oceans.


    Only pregnant females are spared the direct ravages of this scourge, but the effects they suffer from are vastly more deadly. This anomaly allowed us to subsequently prove the existence of the soul, and set a baseline for how complex life must be to develop one.


    We developed robotic helpers while we still could, and ploughed resources into digital intelligence research and development along with artificial wombs. Though we believe that it will prove insufficient in preserving the human race.


    That you are reading or hearing this proves that our predictions were correct. I regret to inform you that you, and anyone that came with you, are now under quarantine on this planet. We cannot allow any Temporcite to leave our planet and duplicate with other hydrogen atoms.


    Yes hydrogen atoms. In theory, the effect would be magnified in fused products, however we halted all fusion research once we discovered the problem. Temporcite. Temporcite exists in a non-linear manner, and so we were unprepared for the novel physics that it introduces. When the proton at the heart of the atom gets close enough to another proton, there is a chance that the Temp Boson transfers from one proton to the other. There's also the chance that it does both, or loses energy and becomes a Higgs boson. As it exists non-linearly in time, the latter is a vanishingly small probability.


    The first symptom you will see for increasing levels of Temporcite in your bodies, is your telomeres randomly lengthening and shortening. The second is that you will start experiencing variation in your physical aging in the range of 1% of your species maximal lifespan. For pregnant females, this translates to the young they are carrying. At full saturation, the variance will cover 100% of your development or life cycle. On average you can expect to survive 75% of your natural life span, and pregnancies will be around 75% shorter. Assuming that you survive the sudden shift in age. Remaining awake stabilises the changes, for a time, though eventually your soul will tire and the changes will become more noticeable. The final symptom is that occasionally, all of the hydrogen in your body will skip forward or backward in time without the rest of your body. This can only occur if you refuse to allow your soul to rest long enough that humans start to go insane.


    The Digital Intelligences, should they have survived, have been tasked with developing a Temporcite trap along with ensuring that all living things on the planet are given the best possible chances of survival without being able to leave.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Not bad. Maybe should have gone with fantasy? A sci fi explanation mixes with the "pregnant females are spared" deal is a little eye rolling. Plus i find it funnier if mothers are quantum entangled with their kids, so if one of them is set to a time during pregnancy, so it's the other.

    It allows for scenes of grumpy mothers knocking on all the kids doors asking who she's pregnant with today. Also 'next time I'm pregnant with you I'm getting an abortion' is just too absurd not to use.
     
    MaimakteriAnn said:
    Not bad. Maybe should have gone with fantasy? A sci fi explanation mixes with the "pregnant females are spared" deal is a little eye rolling. Plus i find it funnier if mothers are quantum entangled with their kids, so if one of them is set to a time during pregnancy, so it's the other.

    It allows for scenes of grumpy mothers knocking on all the kids doors asking who she's pregnant with today. Also 'next time I'm pregnant with you I'm getting an abortion' is just too absurd not to use.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    If you write I'll read it :)
     
    Sim-ply living - Chapter 7
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 7

    Two weeks. Two weeks, that's how long it flipping took me to finish this English to Simlish language pack. Granted, dad visited at the weekends, and I've spent four hours every day at the local university talking to Professor Fraser about physics and measurements. I've also been working on a basic nanotube printer to prove that tunneling can be induced across yards of space. I was going to make something to make polymer feed stock for the invention constructor, but I'm lowering my sights due to the lack of 3D printers and sensors here.

    Then there's the issues with translating between units like ohms and the more sensible units I'm familiar with. Oh, hey, I think I've just worked out why the microscopes at home have a fixed objective plate, and move the observation equipment around. It would be useful if I had a similar setup here for observing the destination point. As moving the target around would ruin the calibration. Maybe I should just build a momentum trap. No, wait, that requires tolerances in the power traces that I can only get with 3D printing, and this has to be reproducible with their current technology. At least I can use my Simray to make the calibrated frame the solid CO2 extruder and target will sit in. I figure I can probably make a mm of nanotube per hour if I use lasers to stabilize the target. Once I've got enough to attach to a spool, I might be able to increase that to a mm per minute. Far slower than is practical, but OK for a proof of concept. And I've just realized I need to put the target in a vacuum chamber so it can't oxidize before the next atom can be placed.

    Fudge, I'm going home.

    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​

    L smiles as she turns an obstructionist functionary into a teapot on a video call, while he's trying to tell her she can't teach the zipzap spell to classes of women after hinting that she and her children should be forced into the Wards and Protectorate and put to work.

    In the top corner of the screen, Narwhal puts her head in her hands as she says, "L, you can't just do that to people when they annoy you. They could have you arrested for assault with a parahuman ability."

    In the bottom left corner, Hope Jones, their lawyer, and L's first paid for student, coughs, "Ah, Narwhal, I believe it would just be common assault, or maybe assaulting an officer of the law, as according to your own findings, magic isn't a parahuman ability because it is teachable, reproduceable, and doesn't rely on one person to grant it."

    L smiles and says, "Beside, lessons paid for at agreed amount."

    Narwhal massages her temples, "Remind me, what was the agreed upon amount?"

    Hope looks down at her notes as she says, "$500 to have the rite of Ascension, a compromise after both L and Taylor threatened to do it for free. $500 per rank for practical spells, $1,000 per rank for Untamed spells except Inferniate, Zipzap, and Chillo which are set at $10,000, $8,000 dollars per rank and a federal background check to learn any Mischief spells, and the minionize spell. Finally, all potions are set at $1,000 and a signed agreement to only sell through The Guild for 10 years. We are currently still discussing whether the government has the right to restrict the spell, 'Rite of Ascension' from being taught. Coaching is currently penciled in at $200/hour, and language lessons are a competitive $20/hour."

    L nods, "I charge $10,000 for teaching, and have class of 20 women. Madeleine was nice and set up 20 week payment plan for them."

    In the bottom corner of the call, Cash Simpson looks up from his own notes, "While Felix was being impolite about it, those prices were supposed to be one to one prices."

    Hope chuckles, "Nowhere in the signed agreement does it state class sizes. Only how much Mrs and Mrs Faba can charge for their lessons, along with a mandate that they increase their prices every year based on inflation."

    "Ah, here it is, Section 5, clause e, 'all prices hereafter will be on a per student basis'."

    "I'm just uploading a digitally signed scanned copy of the signed documents, you may want to take a moment to check that before we continue."

    While the other participants are reading the document, Felix turns back into a human and angrily shouts, "I will see you in jail for this!"

    Narwhal rubs her forehead as the muted symbol appears in the corner of Felix's corner of the screen. "Mrs Faba, L, please don't. While we already know that the spell is temporary and leaves no lasting harm. He is the PRT representative on the call."

    L huffs, "I'm still not sure what call is about."

    Cash looks up into the camera, "Thank you for sharing that Hope, I'll make sure PRT Canada request a certified copy from the Quebec council. I'd apologize for Felix, but he's from PRT LA."

    L shakes her head, "I do not know why, this important."

    Hope says, "While the other participants can't say anything, the Guild used to be the domestic equivalent of the PRT, but treaties forced us to allow the PRT to operate in Canada. So you get people like Felix trying to impose the rather more draconian laws of the USA, such as their monopoly on determining what is tinker-tech and what is merely very advanced technology. Which is why Dracotech is a Canadian company."

    L notes the mute symbol has disappeared from Felix's window just before he acidly says, "If you've finished insulting me, we can move onto the next item. Having the Faba family visit LA to test their magic with volunteers."

    L shakes her head, "No, we will not visit USA until Hope assures us that we cannot be arrested for just being us. If want magic to test, book sessions same as everyone else. Or wait several seasons for students learn rite of ascension."

    Hope adds, "While L was a little blunt, with the Chief Director recently standing up in front of the UN and calling for the Faba family to be incarcerated for breaking the Haywire accords. This is despite Mrs Taylor Faba being a victim of a Parahuman power. I would counsel them to avoid the USA until the UN has reached a decision. You would also do well to review the brief that the Guild put together for the Canadian Government. I understand that the University of Quebec has also filed their own brief based on Professor Fraser's work with Mrs Faba. I believe that the mercenary company Faultline's Crew has also finished having their newest member certified as a person by the École Polytechnique de Montréal. Though they're not currently in Quebec."

    Felix opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, before finally saying, "It hasn't even been a month."

    Hope smiles at the camera, "I believe that when someone of Professor Fraser's credibility starts throwing around terms like, ground breaking, revolutionary, and says that it will transform the world as we know it, politicians start paying attention. Especially given that it's likely that in five years' time the Faba family is likely to be at the head of the next Dracotech."

    Narwhal chimes in, "I believe this is moving outside the scope of the meeting. Felix, do you have any other pertinent items that requires L's participation?"

    There's a pause for several seconds as Felix looks at his agenda, "Uh, the PRT would like access to one of the Faba family's 'droids'."

    Hope makes a 'really' gesture, and Narwhal sighs, "Felix, you've already been told that one of those droids has been declared to be a person. While the others have yet to be tested, I have no doubt that they'd pass a fair test too. Now, do you have anything pertinent, or can I call an end to the meeting and leave your legal department to request the relevant documents, and maybe watch the news?"

    "Ah, no."

    "Then I'm going to end the meeting there before Mrs Faba decides to turn you into a lawn ornament and add to the charges you're undoubtedly going to be bringing."

    Just after the meeting shuts down, a new meeting request arrives and L answer it to show Hope on the screen.

    "L, first of all, your English is getting better. I'm impressed. Secondly, I'm sorry about Felix, but you really shouldn't have turned him into a teapot."

    L frowns, "He was talking about Jack and Jill like things."

    Hope sighs, "I know, but this isn't your home world, where magic is well understood and an established part of society. Not to mention the fact that your 'players' regularly perform far grosser violations of your rights than any of your spells ever could."

    L nods as she starts tracing Felix's connection to find out who he is, "I understand, you have said many times. What do instead?"

    "Tell them that you refused to deal with someone that endorses slavery and end the meeting. Then let your lawyer sort it out, that's why we're on calls like that. Canada doesn't have a fighting words exemption like the USA does, I'll give you the name of a good defense lawyer later who can help you, so you are likely to be punished. If you'd waited a few more seconds, Narwhal would have stepped in like she did with the discussion about droids…"

    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════

    ​
    Faultline scowls as Bee Bee starts whistling manically while they're driving to their next job. Escorting some famous artwork from the Art Institute of Chicago to O'Hare International Airport through gang territory. Easy money, as the Protectorate is usually very good at getting to trouble spots.

    From the passenger seat, Gregor looks up from the dash mounted phone, "Hit the brakes, Bee Bee detected three fast incoming objects with significant signatures."

    As the tyres screech from the force of her braking, Faultline shouts back, "Give Labyrinth a potion and get out! Bee Bee, we need intel, who's incoming? Spitfire, you're on offence, hold off until they're in range though."

    As the van skids to a halt with the handbrake on, Faultline is already slipping out of the driver side door. As she looks up, she spots the massive wings on one of the incoming craft far more distinctive than they should be. "It's the Dragonslayers, everyone find cover! Labyrinth, zipzap when you can, but don't be a hero."

    As Labyrinth looks around alertly, an empty blue flask still gripped in her hand, Faultline once again thanks the Faba's for the existence of that potion, and allowing Labyrinth to be an active member of the group in situations like this. As opposed to being another VIP to defend. Though her movements still don't show the trained smoothness of the others.

    While the others are taking cover, Faultline takes a couple of steps away from the van, while remaining close enough to dive behind the engine block if they decide to attack without talking. This would be so much easier if she knew enough about magic for it to be effective past dueling distance. Still, it's better than relying on guns or getting into hand to hand. More acceptable in the cape community.

    As the suits fly overhead, they each drop something from each hand, and Faultline has a moment to shout "Grenades!" as she's diving to one side.

    As the sound of the grenades dies away, Faultline shouts, "Bee Bee, call the authorities and start uploading video! Weapons hot everyone, remember don't rely on your powers. Keep them busy!"

    As the three suits turn around and head back, Faultline crawls around the van to the doors and clambers in.

    While she's grabbing both of the magnetic mines they use for breaching doors. As she's picking up the rocket broom she bought with the full set of books and promised tuition before the government's deal was finalised, she curses under her breath. "Bee Bee, can you disable their suits?"

    Bee Bee gives a sad whistle that universally indicates a no.

    "Shit, can you at least stop them from talking to each other?"

    Bee Bee gives a happy sounding toot that she takes to mean yes.

    "Great."

    While she's mounting her broom, she has to brace as the van rocks from a blast in the side. With the distinctive sound of an AK firing, she takes a deep breath and rockets out of the back of the van and straight up nearly 500 yards in only a couple of seconds. Only the magic of the broom stops her from letting go.

    As Faultline tries to recover her composure she swears yet again, "Fuck. Fuck! Best 100K ever spent!"

    Looking down she can see that the three suits have formed up in a V shape, with the lead suit's wings projecting a nearly invisible shield. The one behind it and to the left has a visible halo glowing with energy, while the one behind and to the right is holding a massive sword. As she's watching the lead figure gestures to one side and makes some sort of hand sign, and then they zip to one side in a practiced movement. As they stop abruptly, the shield stops and sword wielder swings out and a bolt of energy flies out towards the side of the van. At the same time Newter and opens fire with the AK while the halo suit fires back at Newter.

    The shots must have gone slightly wide, as there's only a couple of sparks pinging ineffectually off the armored suits.

    Taking a deep breath, Faultline drops down on her broom until she's hopefully close enough to hit the halo with a zipzap without being so close that it does whatever it's supposed to do. Channeling magic through her, she shapes it into a lightning bolt and tears a hand away from the broom. As she points at the halo she whispers "Zap".

    The lightning bolt that leaps from her finger hurtles down to the halo. As it hits the halo it arcs through the armor before grounding out against the earth. Almost immediately, the suit starts to fall out of the sky as the spell does what it's designed to, and breaks the equipment. A fraction of a second later, a parachute fires out of a panel on the back as some failsafe system goes off.

    Faultline doesn't have time to analyse what happened as the sword wielder turns around, a glow forming in the hilt of the sword already. As it does, Faultline throws herself to one side before she's got her hand back on the broom. At the urgency of her thoughts the broom responds by accelerating away in the direction she was trying to dodge.

    A few minutes later, Faultline comes around lying on the ground beside her broom. Her arm throbs in agony as it's extended above her head. As she tries to move it, the pain causes spots to dance in her eyes. It's all she can do to use her other arm to blindly reach for her phone and blindly stab Gregor's number.

    "Gregor."

    Faultline fumbles for the speaker button and clenches her teeth as she says, "It's Faultline. Is everyone ok?"

    "We're a little banged up, but the van's a right off. They fucked off with the guy you disabled. You?"

    "I'm alive, but I fucked my arm."

    "Stay on the line, BB's tracing your call. You know you shouldn't have used that broom."

    Faultline can't help it, and she starts to laugh until her arm screams in agony again, "Fuck, don't make me laugh."

    "I'm serious."

    "The supermops are too slow."

    "And you haven't practiced on that broom."

    "If I didn't do something, they'd have killed us all."

    "Bee's found you. You're 15 miles northwest of us."

    "Fuck. See if Labyrinth can repair the van with magic. And see if one of those emotion potions are still in one piece. I, I'm going to work out which way's southeast and start making my way back to you."

    "Faultline!"

    "Gregor, how long would it take you to get here?"

    "We could call the PRT."

    "We're at least 100 miles from the nearest town of more than 100 people. How much further away is the nearest PRT base? I'm going to take it easy. You know I can do that."

    "… Just, don't hang up. Ok?"

    Faultline grunts as she forces herself to roll onto her back with her good arm so that she can painfully stand up. Then she unbuttons a pocket on her bullet proof vest and slips the phone inside. When she tries to pick up her broom, her mind rebels and tries to tell her that she can't. After a minute or so, and several deep breaths, her knees stop feeling like jelly at the thought of picking up the broom, and she deliberately leans down and picks it up.

    Holding the broom in between her legs, she pulls her survival knife from her boot and unwraps the paracord on the handle by holding the blade in her mouth. Once she's got about half the paracord off the handle, she lashes the knife to the broom handle so that the small compass on the pommel is clearly visible.

    "You can do this Melanie, it's just like getting back on a motorbike."

    It takes her several minutes to get back onto the broom, and even longer to go faster than a walking pace.
     
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    Sim-ply Living story link
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    • forums.sufficientvelocity.com

    Sim-ply Living

    During a Christmas shopping trip to the Boardwalk, Labyrinth has one of her moments where she's lost in her power as it explores new worlds. Taylor Hebert is one of three people who unknowingly wander into the zone of effect. After a few lifetimes of experience, she is also the only one of the...
    forums.sufficientvelocity.com forums.sufficientvelocity.com
     
  • Informational
    • My life four yours - X-men/HP - 1
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 1


    "Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort.​


    Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach —


    Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand.


    "Accio!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup.​


    It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle —


    He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked — it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, and Cedric along with him… They were going back. [Excerpt from The Goblet of Fire by JKR]


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    It's a beautiful day as Mindee Cuckoo is sat on a bench overlooking the reservoir near the Salem Center. Not that she cares as tears stream down her cheeks as the she grieves the death of her boyfriend, Germaine, in yesterday's riots. Coupled with the deaths of Sophie and Esme only a matter of months earlier, it is unsurprising that it is only the presence of her sister clones, Phoebe and Celeste, and their deep gestalt that is giving her the strength to cope as well as she is.


    Out of thin air a boy maybe a year or two younger than their year mates appears along with a corpse and a shining cup. As the boy staggers towards them, Mindee lashes out with the gestalt expecting to find an enemy. Instead she finds a mind almost shredded by pain, battered by terror and fear, and torn apart by the sharp grief of loss. As her sisters did for her, so she does for this mind, and pulls it close to share her own grief and show it that it's not alone.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Harry manages to stagger a few steps away from the Triwizard cup before he's hit by a blinding pain in his head that immediately turns to comfort and soothing. As it reaches out with its own grief, he reaches back with what's left of his reserves and collapses as two pairs of arms catch him.


    As they support him, the third mind offers unconditional acceptance and belonging as long as he reciprocates. At the same time it's yearning for something that has been ripped from all three of them. Magically, physically, and mentally exhausted, the tattered barriers that protect Harry's Id, Ego, and Superego that would stand strong in the face of any torture instead collapse in the face of something he has desired for so many years.


    As he tries to reach back, the last dregs of his magic is guided by the gestalt to fulfil his desires and fill the hole that was left when five became four, and four became three. While the initial changes have to be mental in order to fit with the others, the gestalt only works because they only differ by their experiences.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    As a fourth mind joins their gestalt, as if it had always been there and they were only waiting to meet them, Celeste scowls at Mindee, "Mindee, what did you do that for?"


    "You felt him, her, and it's not like we didn't invite Emma either."


    Phoebe rolls her eyes as the boy collapses and his eyes roll back in his head, "It's not like anyone else would give themselves up like that either. Probably won't last either."


    Mindee looks towards the X-Corp building that's their temporary home. "We should take him to the infirmary."


    Celeste nods, "Emma's contacting the police to check on the body."


    As the four of them are rounding a corner, there's a series of three pops surrounding the cup and body.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Harry briefly wakes up as one of four spikes with grief, she reaches out into the gestalt to offer what comfort she can as Germaine's eulogy is read at the memorial service.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Emma looks down at the boy that is rapidly starting to look like a clone of hers, "Hank, what's going on?"


    Beast grabs the boy's notes from the back of the bed, "Your guess is as good as mine. According to our initial tests, he's not a mutant, yet as you can see. Elixir healed all of the damage he could. We've got scans and blood work that show childhood malnutrition and long term elevated stress levels. Elixir said that there was significant nerve damage, but that wouldn't show up on any of the scans we can do here."


    "Could he be a mutate?"


    Beast shrugs, "Anything's possible, but I don't think so. The Cuckoo's have said he's regained consciousness a few times over the last two weeks. Not that the equipment we've got here has shown anything. There're some anomalous compounds in his blood, but nothing that we've been able to identify. Even so, his testes have withdrawn and an ultrasound shows the development of a uterus."


    "Celeste said that he joined their gestalt."


    "Is that even possible?"


    Emma looks away briefly with a frown, "In theory, no. You would need to have no sense of self-worth and identity, which should be impossible. Even if you did join, your ego and id would reassert itself in short order. In theory, even just having a debilitating injury like a missing arm or leg could cause them to leave the gestalt. There's just so few examples of a gestalt as long lasting as theirs."


    "But each of them have their own personalities."


    Emma nods, "I was talking about being able to permanently join the gestalt. Psychics are able to create temporary gestalts, but nobody can subsume themselves enough to make it permanent."


    Harry smiles as she reaches out to the gestalt. The smile turns into a frown as a feeling like there's something important she should be remembering intrudes before she falls back into unconsciousness.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Mindee looks up at Celeste as Harry's Ego reforms. "He was tortured."


    "Cupboard?"


    Phoebe shakes her head, "Graveyard."


    Mindee raises her eyebrows, "I was thinking solitary confinement."


    Celeste nods, "All of those. But we are four in one, she isn't alone anymore."


    "They will find her."


    Phoebe shakes her head, "They will find us."


    "We will speak to Emma. What of secrecy?"


    "He's back, it doesn't matter."


    "Hermione?"


    Celeste nods, "Dentists."


    Phoebe smiles, "Harry agrees, I've told Emma. She needs clothes."


    Mindee nods, "She can use mine until we go shopping."


    All three of them say, "We agree, four cannot become three and one."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    As Harry's eyes snap open Mindee walks through the door to her room. Despite knowing that all four of them already know, Harry smiles at Mindee and says, "Thank you. Sorry it took me so long to come back."


    Mindee smiles back, "And thank you for helping to fill their void. You're one of us now."


    Harry starts dressing as she asks, "Did they find Hermione?"


    "They're coming to visit next week."


    "I'm never going back."


    "I know. We won't let you."


    "I'm glad you know what happened."


    "Same."


    "Quire will never hurt us again. I'll turn him into a teapot before that happens."


    Mindee steps to one side as Beast, no Hank McCoy, walks into the room. "Finally awake?"


    Harry nods, "I am."


    "How are you feeling?"


    Mindee says, "She is still dealing with Cedric's death. We are helping."


    Harry adds, "Basilisk Venom and Phoenix tears. Not that sort of phoenix."


    Mindee nods thoughtfully, "Celeste thinks Fawkes might be a fragment."


    Hank rubs the bridge of his nose, "Please remember that I'm not psychic or part of your gestalt."


    Harry rubs her scar, "Sorry."


    Harry opens her mouth, and closes it so that Hank can ask his question, "Where did you get the scar?"


    "A… terrorist killed my parents and tried to kill me as a baby. He failed, and we think he left a connection to me in the scar."


    "We?"


    Mindee nods, "Yes, it hurts whenever the terrorist is around. Harry doesn't like talking about it."


    Hank opens, and then closes his mouth, "Right. Who should I talk to about his malnutrition."


    "The Durley's in England."


    "Of course, why didn't I think of that."


    Harry giggles, "We're dealing with it. It's harder because it's different to our other upbringing."


    Mindee adds, "It's also easier because he's no longer Harry. She's Harry."


    Hank nods, "Well, I need to take your feeding tube out. Then we need to find out how complete your change is."


    Harry smiles as she turns into diamond for a few seconds, then turns back, "Absolutely. It's a shame the change can't go the other way too."


    Mindee nods, "Phoebe would love to go flying with you."


    Hank sighs as he leans over and starts to pull the plastic tube out of Harry's nose, "I still need to run the scans. We've never seen a mutant like you."


    Harry and Mindee both giggle, "I'm/she's not a mutant."


    "Just… turn up for your appointment. Your stuff is in the cupboard."


    Harry shakes her head, "Burn it, we didn't pick up my most important possession as we didn't know it was important then."


    Mindee nods, "Celeste's got Summers to agree to take us shopping."


    Harry adds, "If we do it enough, he'll teach us to drive."


    Hank sighs and grabs a tablet, "Fine, before you go I need some details. What's your name?"


    "Harry Cuckoo."


    "It is? No, I mean what was your old name."


    "Harry Potter."


    "How old are you?"


    Harry smiles mischievously, "I'm the same age as my sisters."


    "Fine, how old were you before you met the other Cuckoo's?"


    "14."


    "What… What was your address?"


    "4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, East Sussex, UK."


    "Where did you go to school?"


    "I'm not allowed to tell you."


    Hank's mouth hangs open for a second while he thinks about that. Then he asks, "Why not?"


    Mindee says, "The school is in a community that's a bit like the Amish, except secret."


    "Fine. What doctor did you go to?"


    "He didn't, he didn't have any inoculations either."


    "Of course not, why would it be easy."


    "Assume that Harry's guardians did the bare minimum they could get away with. That's a good starting point."


    Hank growls, "Fine, elementary education."


    "Rainbow primary school in Little Whinging."


    Mindee adds, "Emma already knows all this. We told her when Harry came back yesterday."


    Hank growls and tosses the tablet back on the desk, "Fine, go and do your shopping. Be back here for your first inoculations just before dinner."


    Harry nods "Thank you."


    As Harry and Mindee walk out with the same gait and body language, Hank rubs his temples.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Over the next week, Harry gets to experience education and training with the Xavier Institute in person rather than just through her sisters' memories. Here she's just the Cuckoo with a scar, not the boy who lived, or the boy who cheated, or the heir of Slytherin.


    However, as with all good things in her life, the day arrives when it might just get torn away. The gestalt agrees that won't be happening, no matter what. And so it is that the four of them are walking out the front door as Hermione and her family arrive in a rented car.


    As the car drives around the driveway to the entrance they stand next to each other with their right hand grasping their left wrist and a scarf half over their heads like an alice band that happens to also cover the scar.


    Behind them, Emma Frost and Scott Summers both walk out and stop on the veranda. When the car finally stops, Hermione gets out of the rear seat and pensively starts to look around while her parents walk up to the steps.


    Together with her sisters, Harry curtsies and says, "Welcome to the Xavier Institute, thank you for coming to see Harry."


    As Hermione pensively asks, "Where's Harry?" four invisible people appear on the other side of the car.


    As the Cuckoos look straight at them, Emma telepathically lets Scott know they're there as he coughs, "I'm afraid that introductions will have to wait until we have dealt with our uninvited guests."


    Hermione's head turns on a swivel as her parents look around with a mildly confused expression. Harry just raises her hand and points at the mind that's second from the left while her sisters point at the other invisible minds. All of them are ready to disable their target at the slightest hint they're about to cast a spell. As her target quietly moves backwards and to the side, Harry keeps her finger pointing at them.


    Emma coughs politely, "As you can see gentlemen, we know exactly where you are. If you would be so kind as to drop your invisibility, I'm sure we can all talk like civilised people."


    Harry almost smiles as she spots Hermione chewing at her bottom lip in that way she does when she's working on a problem in her head. Celeste gently reminds her through the gestalt that their first priority is the safety of the school and the younger children inside.


    As she refocuses her gaze at the point her finger is pointing at, the man on the right removes an invisibility cloak. "Good afternoon, I am officer Hughey. We are here to take Mr Potter into custody on suspicion of the murder of Cedric Diggory and fleeing the United Kingdom."


    Emma puts on her business smile, "I see. And do you have a warrant for this? As we rescued Mr Potter after he appeared near some of our students while they were enjoying the good weather. According to our on staff doctor, he was lucky to still be standing as he was showing signs of torture and exhaustion. We have also been in contact with the British Embassy about getting the proper documentation."


    Hughey frowns minutely as he glances at one of the invisible people, "Are you sure?"


    Emma nods, "Very, I can have our doctor print out a copy of the medical report, if you return with a warrant."


    As Celeste detects one of the invisible people about to cast a spell, she pulls the invisibility cloak off them at Emma's prompting, "If you think about casting that, I will disable you."


    Hughey gives the cloak on the floor a long look before he says, "I see. I will return at a later date. Please let Mr Potter know that he should stay in the country until we've questioned him about what happened at the end of the tournament."


    Phoebe says, "We could show you if you would like. We have examined his memories."


    "Not, ah, right now. We would need to extract the memory officially. To avoid tampering, you understand."


    Emma nods, "I understand."


    "We're just going to use our wands to leave."


    Scott shakes his head as Emma points at the gate, "Outside the gates if you will."


    Hughey nods and puts his invisibility cloak back on as the other man picks up his cloak, "Of course."


    As the four men get close to the gate, Phoebe presses the button to make them open.


    As the gates close behind them, Mindee smiles at Hermione, "Don't worry Hermione, you didn't do anything wrong. John Dawlish got his orders from the Minister, who was apparently told by Ludo Bagman, who was told by Arthur Weasley."


    Harry steps down from the veranda and pulls the scarf off her head, "Hey Hermione. Miss me?"


    Hermione's eyes dart up to Harry's forehead, and she says, "What?"


    Harry gives his old grin, "Hey, I fight a troll and I get a best friend. I figure that getting a family is a good trade for fighting Voldemort."


    Harry reaches out her hand hesitantly, "Harry?"


    Harry nods, "Yep, no cat hairs involved."


    Hermione's dad coughs, "Hermione dear, I was under the impression that your friend was a boy."


    Celeste nods, "She was."


    Scott sighs and turns back towards the building while Emma says, "There is rather a lot we need to talk about. But first I need to thank you for changing your holiday plans. I can tell that it's put Harry's mind at ease now that you're hear. I'm Emma Frost, co-principal of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. The man behind me is Scott Summers, the other principal. From right to left we have Phoebe, Mindee, Harry who you already know, and Celeste Cuckoo."


    Hermione looks at Harry with wide eyes as her father nods and points at his wife, "This is my wife Jean, and I am Gene. You already know my daughter, Hermione, by reputation."


    Emma smiles politely, "I bet that gets confusing at dinner parties."


    Jean shrugs, "Only when they're getting boring, it helps that we're both doctors specialising in dentistry."


    As Harry takes Hermione's right arm, Phoebe walks down and takes her right arm. "Come on Hermione, while they're doing the polite thing we'll show you to your room. We can also talk about how Harry's changed."


    Mindee and Celeste follow up.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • This seems fun. Really interested to see it go full length. This and Stellar empress are, i think, the ones i most want to see you continue.
     
    Huh. Interesting.

    I want them to meet Luna. I doubt she'd like to join, but I suspect she'd be happy to play along while they're visiting.

    Hmm. Does this suggest that mutants aren't new? Or that they're just the most recent offshoot of homo sapiens? That there are possibly even more societies hidden away from the mundanes?

    Or perhaps they're something like muggle-born; they're distant descendants of multiple different non-human ancestors, so their powers are surprising, but they're oddball enough that no one society can claim them as their own.

    I wonder if there will be emigration of mutants into magical enclaves, or if things go well, we'll have magicals claiming that they're just another mutant.

    I vaguely recall coming across the idea of a small town where it turns out that nearly everyone is something other than mundane human, and they're all worried that they'll be shunned if their secret becomes widely known. The last mundanes? Huge urban fantasy nerds who are disappointed nobody else is interested because it hits a little too close to home.
     
    Martin Rudat said:
    Huh. Interesting.

    I want them to meet Luna. I doubt she'd like to join, but I suspect she'd be happy to play along while they're visiting.

    Hmm. Does this suggest that mutants aren't new? Or that they're just the most recent offshoot of homo sapiens? That there are possibly even more societies hidden away from the mundanes?

    Or perhaps they're something like muggle-born; they're distant descendants of multiple different non-human ancestors, so their powers are surprising, but they're oddball enough that no one society can claim them as their own.

    I wonder if there will be emigration of mutants into magical enclaves, or if things go well, we'll have magicals claiming that they're just another mutant.

    I vaguely recall coming across the idea of a small town where it turns out that nearly everyone is something other than mundane human, and they're all worried that they'll be shunned if their secret becomes widely known. The last mundanes? Huge urban fantasy nerds who are disappointed nobody else is interested because it hits a little too close to home.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    My current thoughts are that wizard magic is a stable mutation that still occasionally crops up in the general population. Mutants are caused by the X gene, which is distinct from this.

    As magic is a form of reality warping, what happened with Harry is that her magic combined with the gestalt changed fundamental parts of her makeup in order to be compatible with the gestalt. Which is why she was unconscious for so long. These changes happened deep in her subconscious, well below the level that anyone but another telepath would be able to reach.

    In the upcoming chapter, they implant their subconscious knowledge of how to be psychic in Hermione's mind, with permission, as part of an experiment to see if her magic will make what she now fundamentally believes she can do possible.
     
    Darkphoenixlady said:
    My current thoughts are that wizard magic is a stable mutation that still occasionally crops up in the general population. Mutants are caused by the X gene, which is distinct from this.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    So Wizard magic is different to sorceror magic then? or is this a strictly Xmen only, no rest of marvel, kinda universe?
     
    MaimakteriAnn said:
    So Wizard magic is different to sorceror magic then? or is this a strictly Xmen only, no rest of marvel, kinda universe?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Yes, it's distinct from sorcerer magic. I'm not sure how much of the rest of Marvel I'm going to include, as most of it doesn't play nice with each other. (Especially X-men with everything else) Also, as I haven't read all of the comics, there are going to be more than a few "I made it up based on wiki" moments.

    If I include sorcerers, then the difference will be in the fact that (in theory) anyone can learn to become a sorcerer, but you have to be born with magic (or have some Reality Warper give it to you).
     
    My life four yours - X-men/HP - 2
  • Threadmarks

    • Chapter 2


    Hermione looks around the small twin room curiously, her attention constantly returning to the four identical girls sitting on the other bed. If it wasn't for the scar, she wouldn't believe that one of them was Harry.


    Eventually she asks, "Why?"


    Harry shrug, "We don't know. It should have been impossible."


    Celeste nods, "We think it's because Mindee was leading and her boyfriend was killed the day before."


    Phoebe adds, "And Harry had just come from a battle where he'd been tortured with the torture curse, and then kept Voldemort from controlling him with the imperious curse."


    Mindee holds Harry's hand as she says, "I thought he was an attacker, so I struck at his mind first. But we found fear, exhaustion and loss like our own. So I offered."


    Harry smiles, "They offered me a family Hermione, can you believe that. Me, the freak was offered a family."


    Hermione's eyes go wide, "Harry, you're not a freak."


    Celeste stands up and sits down next to Hermione, "She knows that. But he was told it so much growing up, that he believed it was his name until school. We can talk about it because we are Four in One."


    Hermione stares at Celeste with a gobsmacked expression. Eventually she breathes, "How could they?"


    "If we ever meet them, we will find out. But we will not seek them out, as we're not sure we could stop ourselves from killing them."


    Before Hermione can respond, Phoebe softly says, "Hermione, they hurt us. They hurt us badly. When we say we are four in one, it is not an idiosyncrasy. We are four bodies and one mind."


    Harry continues, "We are also psychic. Unlike Professor Xavier, we cannot stop using our telepathy. We are polite and ignore what we 'hear', but we still hear it. You might have heard of Magneto or the X-men?"


    Hermione thinks for a moment and then nods before she looks up at Harry, "Harry, are you a mutant?"


    Harry shakes his head, "No Hermione, I'm not. Accidental magic at my age, who'd have guessed it."


    Celeste quips, "Next you'll be telling me you still wet the bed."


    Harry laughs, "I'm not 'poor liddle Duddikins' who needed mummy to take him to the toilet until he was six, and still wet the bed when he was 8."


    Hermione makes a face, "Eww, really?"


    Harry nods, "Yep, really."


    "Wait, you're distracting me."


    Mindee nods, "We are, and it's working. Think of our telepathy like being in a bar. If you're sitting next to a table where they're talking loudly. You can't help but overhear them, even if it's a private conversation. So you just ignore it."


    Harry laughs, "No, there aren't any books on it. At least not books you can buy. We know that some organisations have manuals to help train their staff to have quieter thoughts."


    Hermione grabs a pillow and throws it at Harry, "Stop doing that."


    Phoebe shakes her head, "We can't, any more than you can stop yourself reading or doing math problems when you see them. You were Harry's best friend, and we'd like to keep it that way."


    Harry continues, "But part of that is that we can't pretend. We are still Harry, but we're more than just Harry."


    Hermione looks at Harry, and then deliberately looks at Mindee, "What's it like?"


    Mindee smiles, "There are no secrets, even though we have our own thoughts. But we're never alone. We don't need to worry about misunderstandings, hiding problems, or any of the common communication problems that people have. Any of us could lead the gestalt, but we don't because that's how we became three in one. We work together and decide on what we're going to do."


    "It sounds nice, I wish I could experience it."


    Celeste rubs Hermione's back in circles, "You couldn't. You'd need to let go of all of your barriers, and give yourself over to the gestalt entirely. Most psychics can only manage a few minutes, maybe up to an hour before their ego and superego reassert themselves."


    Harry nods, "In fairness, Voldemort did most of the tearing down before I got here. Then you offered me a family if I just let go. So I did."


    Hermione looks between the four girls, "But why are you a girl now?"


    Mindee says, "So that our memories match up. Could you imagine walking if one leg was sometimes six inches longer than the other? That's what it would be like for us."


    "Right, ah, what do you do here?"


    Celeste squeezes Hermione's shoulder comfortingly, "The same sort of things you do at Hogwarts. And to answer the questions you wanted to ask. I can't see why you couldn't develop telepathy, and yes we can help you learn how to be less loud with your thoughts. It took Harry over two weeks to finish changing. Yes, she was unconscious the entire time, apart from a few moments where she reached out to support Mindee."


    Harry nods, "That's a good idea, we agree that my magic likely kept my ego and superego suppressed until we no longer needed to worry about dysmorphia. We'd start by sending you thoughts rather than speaking out aloud."


    Phoebe adds, "It probably couldn't be written down in a way that would actually help people learn."


    As the Cuckoo's fall silent, Hermione asks, "Why not?"


    Together, the four of them say, "We could teach you how we do it, and you could try to write it down. Call it an experiment if you will."


    Hermione chews her bottom lip as she thinks about her answer. Eventually she says, "Do it."


    They smile as their eyes glow blue, "Done."


    "Really? I didn't feel anything."


    Rather than speaking, the four of them send, 'We have been doing this for practically our entire lives.'


    Hermione's expression turns shocked and puzzled as she fails to respond. After another couple of attempts she eventually says, "How? Why can't I..."


    'We gave you the knowledge to recognise your own thoughts. We do not want to drive our friend insane. And because you're not psychic yet. That's the experiment.'


    "What do you... Wait, yet?"


    The four of them wait patiently as Hermione works through the problem in her head.


    While she's thinking, the door slams open and Emma storms in, "What did you do?"


    The four Cuckoo's looks up at her and say, "What she wanted us to."


    Emma pinches her nose, "Mindee, explain."


    Mindee smiles, "We taught her how to be psychic. She didn't want to lose the person she considers to be her only friend, and felt that this would drive her away from us. Normally, this would be ridiculous, but Hermione thrives on understanding the world. Primarily through books."


    "You can't just teach someone to be psychic."


    "We know, but Hermione isn't just someone. Hermione has magic."


    Emma opens her mouth to say something and then snaps it shut as her head snaps up to look at Harry. "It looks like we need to revisit Ethics then."


    Harry smiles, "We informed her of what we would do, and waited for her to give us a reasoned answer."


    Hermione nods absently, "They did. It feels weird, like I'm missing an arm."


    A writing box floats out of Hermione's suitcase, and hovers in the air for a moment, before it drops back down as Hermione stares at it, "How?"


    Celeste says, "You already know how to levitate things, so that part was easy."


    Emma puts her hands on her hips, "Is she going to start randomly turning into diamond?"


    The Cuckoo's shake their heads, "No, we didn't teach her that. One experiment at a time. Besides, Hermione likes her body."


    "Hermione, I can try to remove the knowledge if you'd like."


    Hermione looks startled, "No! Uh, I mean. No, I want this."


    Emma stares at Hermione for a few seconds until Hermione jumps and says, "Stop that!"


    Turning on her heel, Emma walks out the door. As she's pulling it closed behind her, she looks back and says, "I'll be seeing all five of you for Telepathic Ethics. Now I need to explain this to your parents."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    Over the next week the Cuckoos and Hermione spend an hour a day with Emma Frost learning about Ethics, and working through real world examples.


    After Hermione starts manifesting telepathic powers after a good nights sleep, and an epic 'discussion' with her parents. Where they eventually agree to enrol her at the institute for holiday classes. On the basis that at least they can see what she's learning from this. Emma starts tutoring Hermione in how to limit her growing telepathy, and how to tune out the thoughts around her. Most of which is spent both building a new habit to keep her eyes downcast, and learning how not to do a deep dive on everyone she looks at. Though her ability to send thoughts is comparatively weaker than expected.


    After an aborted attempt to visit New York City as a family, Jean and Gene both spend their days doing the tourist thing, while Hermione spends time with the Cuckoo's venturing into Salem Center, and getting used to the summer season crowds. As, while she's unlikely to ever be a powerful telepath, her passive range is still 100 yards.


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    On the day before Harry's birthday, the Cuckoo's and Hermione all look up as a mind appears outside the grounds of the X-Corp building. Mindee, closes the lid on the piano she was playing, and turns to face the others, "I guess it's time then."


    Harry nods, "Together."


    Celeste nods, "Always."


    Hermione frowns as she closes the book she's reading, "What's going on?"


    Nezhno, a Wakandan student that had taken to sitting near Hermione whenever she was in the library, asks, "Is it something we need to worry about?"


    Harry shakes her head, "Officer Hughey is back with a warrant for my arrest. He doesn't seem happy about it."


    Nezhno frowns, "Why would they want to arrest you?"


    "They claim that I murdered a student at the end of a tournament."


    "Did you?"


    Harry shakes her head, "No, I survived the resurrection of a terrorist, Cedric was killed seconds after we were teleported there."


    Hermione nods as her hands shake slightly, "It was awful, we were sat watching the maze for hours after Delacour and Krum were retrieved. Then Professor Moody's, ah, disguise failed and he turned into a Death Eater in front of everyone. At the end of term, the headmaster told everyone that the terrorist was back. Then a couple of weeks after we got home, the newspaper claimed that Harry murdered..." She covers her mouth with her hands.


    Celeste, as the closest Cuckoo, reaches over and pats Hermione on the knee, "Hermione, it's not your fault."


    Nezhno frowns, "Why haven't we heard anything?"


    Phoebe glances at Hermione, who nods slightly, "There is a community of magic users that separated from normal society 300 years ago. They have made secrecy their highest law, and frequently used mind wiping to ensure that secret is kept. They have ways of detecting people that are born with the same mutation, and force them to join their community or have their mutation bound."


    As Emma walks into the room, the Cuckoo's stand up together, "We're ready. We would like Hermione to come with us, as she was watching at the end of the tournament."


    Emma hesitates for a second, "That is not my decision. Hermione is a minor. She would need her parents permission."


    Hermione looks up, "Mum and dad were having a day in today. I'll go and ask."


    Emma shakes her head, "I'll ask, you still don't have enough control to avoid invading their minds. You can go down to the entrance hall and wait with the Cuckoo's if you wish."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    The click of Emma's heels is loud on the marble flooring as she follows Officer Hughey through an underground complex somewhere in Washington DC. Behind her, the gestalt and Hermione are quiet as they're helping Hermione ignore the background murmur of the surrounding thoughts. It's clear from the hubbub of anticipation, that the trial is going to be far more public than normal. Fortunately, the only person outside the DMLE that is aware of Harry's new appearance is Officer Hughey.


    When they arrived in the DMLE, there had been a brief period of confusion when Harry didn't match her photo. Something that was quickly cleared up after Harry revealed her scar, and the Aurors did a minor ritual with a drop of Harry's blood to compare her magical signature with the reference they obtained from the UK. Something that took longer than expected, because the British had already snapped her wand.


    As they're led into an antechamber, Emma looks at her charges and the surroundings, and wonders if this is the ultimate result of isolating a community, and if this is the sort of world those like Magneto really want.


    Harry breaks the silence by asking, "Will we be allowed to take a truth serum?"


    Officer Hughey shakes his head, "Veritasium is a controlled substance, and cannot be used in open trials. If I had my way, we'd have brought you in for questioning first, then we might've used veritasium. Might not, as you're still under age."


    Emma looks pensive, "Will they be allowed to give evidence?"


    Hughey nods, "That at least is a given over here. Should be over there too, but they still have their Star Courts. For what it's worth, I don't think she did it. I saw the report they did of the wand we found. Honestly, we thought the body was Miss Potter based on the spells used."


    Hermione glances up in interest, before screwing her eyes shut, "You can do that? See the previous spells I mean."


    Hughey nods, "It's not exactly common knowledge, but yes. Stronger spells can be detected for longer. Though, as long as a wand hasn't been used, the forensic record can still be read. If you take NEWT Arithmancy, they cover it in the second year. At least over here they do."


    Celeste muses, "I wonder if it's too late to change our OWLs."


    Hughey narrows his eyes and looks between the person he thought was Harry and Celeste, "Even if it is, you can self study and take them with the ICW at the end of August, with everyone that's retesting their OWLs. I thought she was Harry."


    Harry nods, "I am. But we are of one mind."


    "That's just great, this is why we need time to do proper investigations, and not half ass things. When you say of one mind, what do you mean?"


    Emma indicates the four of them, "They mean it literally. They are part of a gestalt hive mind. They explain it as a bout of accidental magic when the Cuckoo's offered safety and comfort."


    "Of course it would be. And nobody responded because they'd have assumed the responding officers encountered something. Right, I'll need to speak to the court before you're called in."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    After a period of time, the doors to the antechamber are opened and an Auror in black robes says, "Miss Potter and her twins are required in the court."


    Emma stands up with the Cuckoo's, "I am their legal guardian."


    The Auror nods, "You may come too."


    The five of them are led into a large crowded room with a hanging balcony that's also packed full of spectators. At the front of the room is a large three tiered desk that towers over the clear area between the crowd and the desk. Dominating the free space is a large ornate silver circle that's inlayed into the floor, there is scarcely a part of it that isn't covered in silver runes. Opposite the circle is a smaller chalk circle with a wooden chair sat in the middle of it.


    On the far side of the circle is a long table with two familiar minds that are sitting next to another three people. On this side of the circle is a table with a single individual.


    The Auror that brought them in guides them over to the mostly empty table. As they approach, the man stands up an conjures a chair for each of them, "I'm sorry we haven't been introduced. I'm your defense lawyer, Alfred Bartlett. I've been spending the entire morning reading through the British trial transcripts. Which basically amount to, your wand was found with the body, so you did it. Which one of you is Harry Potter?"


    Harry raises her hand, "I am."


    "Do you have any evidence that would help your defense?"


    "We were told that you could extract memories officially. So I offer my memories of the event. I'm also willing to enter a binding magical contract to prove I didn't do it."


    Alfred looks alarmed, "We don't do that for a trial."


    Harry shrugs, "I've only been aware of the magical world for four years sir."


    Emma holds up a thick folder, "We also have Harry's medical records from the examination and treatments we made."


    Phoebe adds, "Our friend Hermione Granger is also willing to give her memories of two events, one at the end of the tournament and the other at the end of the school year where the headmaster made a statement. She was part of the audience."


    Alfred nods, "Not as good as a Veritasium transcript, but still better than nothing. When you're called on to give your memories, you'll need to sit in the chalk circle. It will block your twin bond, so that the twin can't modify the memory. There is a chance that the bond will break, so think before you confirm that you want to offer your memory."


    The four of them nod, "We are willing to take the risk."


    If Alfred was going to say anything else, it's cut off by a witch in officious robes coming out of a side door, "All rise for Justices Kisiner, Lisset, and Carson, along with ICW observer Wentz."


    At the introduction of the last person, Alfred lets out a long sigh of relief.


    Once the judges have taken their seats, and the introducer has set up a scroll with a quill hovering over it. The central judge calls out, "This is the case of the United Kingdom vs Mr Harry Potter. Mr Potter is charged with one count of murder and one count of using an unforgiveable. How does the defendant plead?"


    Alfred stands up, "Not guilty your honors."


    "And where is the defendant?"


    Alfred indicates Harry with one hand as he picks up a sheet of parchment, "This is Miss Potter and her sisters. I have the Auror's verification report here. From the scant time I've had with my client, I understand that it occurred as a bout of accidental magic after she escaped from whatever situation killed the other person. We also have the no-maj medical report of Miss Potters condition upon her arrival in the USA."


    The judge nods and glances over at the other table, "Yes, there are a lot of irregularities in this case. Does the prosecution have anything to submit to the court?"


    One of the men at the other table stands up, and with a British accent, says, "We have already submitted the court documents from Mr Potter's trial. We also have a number of character statements that show he is of low moral character and known for making up fanciful stories."


    As both men approach the desk, the head judge mutters, "This'll be good."


    While the judge flicks through the documents, Alfred whispers, "Do you have anything to counter the character statements?"


    Phoebe nods, "We are willing to give memories about any specific events, as is Miss Hermione Granger, a friend of the accused, and a student at Hogwarts."


    Eventually, the judge looks up, "There are rather a lot of character statements here. Including the Minister of Magic. Mr Bartlett, do you have anything to say about these?"


    Alfred stands up, "I'm afraid we cannot comment on the contents of those statements, as we have not had the chance to review them. However, my client is prepared to offer memories about specific events. We also have a member of the audience of the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, along with an end of term statement by the Chief Warlock. She may also be willing to provide corroborating memories of specific events too."


    The judge nods and taps the pile of statements with his wand so that 1/2 of the pile goes to each of the other two judges. "Well, lets start at the top and look at the charges. Bailiff, if you please."


    The auror that introduced the judges walks across the circle, "Miss Potter, please take a seat in the in the circle. You will be required to take a potion that will leave you slightly docile, this is to make it easier on both of you as your memories are extracted."


    Harry nods as she stands up. As it occurs to the gestalt, Harry leans over and whispers to Alfred, "Can I provide memories that call into question the character of the character witnesses?"


    Alfred whispers back, "Only if they are in reference to a specific event, as they're not here to defend themselves."


    Harry nods and gracefully walks over to the chair before sitting down daintily. As she does, she's pleased to note that whatever the circle is supposed to block, it isn't affecting the gestalt. Celeste suggests that it might be isolating Harry's magic, and the gestalt uses psychic energy. The gestalt comes to an agreement, before withdrawing to a background level.


    As it does, Harry shivers and resists the urge to hug herself as she's left mostly alone in her head for the first time since she woke up.


    The bailiff nods and says, "The circle is working as intended. Bring in the Healer and Court Legimens."


    Over the next few minutes, Harry is fed a potion by a healer that leaves her feeling floaty and only semi aware of what's going on. When someone asks her to think about the moments before she picked up the Triwizard cup to the moment she met her new family, the gestalt helps her hold back at the clumsy intrusion into her mind. It's like Hermione looked at her for all the subtlety it holds. It's also not psychic.


    A little bit later, they ask her to remember rescuing Ginerva Weasley, then the moment Snape said she'd been confounded when they rescued Sirius. It only takes a little prodding from the Gestalt to include the time loop. Then they ask about the first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Finally, they ask her to remember the moment the goblet of fire chose her name after she couldn't remember ever entering her name.


    When they feed her a second potion, she flees back to her sisters and the Judge gives her an apologetic look as the other three hug her.


    Once they've had a moment to recover, the Judge looks at the court Legimens, "In your professional opinion, have any of Miss Potters memories been falsified or tampered with?"


    The legimens shakes his head, "No your honors."


    The Judge looks at the two lower judges, "Well, I've seen enough. What about you?"


    One of the judges taps a couple of sheets of parchment, "I would like to see the evidence that the witness has. She was also in a few of the character events, so I would like to see her memories of the same events."


    "Agreed, Bailiff, call in Miss Hermione Granger."


    As the bailiff walks over to the antechamber door, the Cuckoo's send, 'Remember that Hermione doesn't know how to hold back yet.' To Emma.


    Emma's eyes widen and she leans over to whisper in Alfred's ear, "Miss Granger is an untrained telepath, she might accidentally lash out if they give her the potion. If they are willing, I can help hold her powers in check."


    ═══════ ೋღ ֍ ღೋ ═══════​


    After Hermione gave her memories and verbal testimony, the judges withdrew with the memories and evidence for a few hours. Long enough that the gestalt has separated enough for Mindee to stay with Hermione as she copes with the feeling of having her memories rifled through by a non-telepath.


    As the Judges file back in, the three Cuckoo's sit down with the others. The judge looks around the courtroom that seems even more crowded than it was earlier. "We have reviewed all of the evidence provided. We find the defendant not guilty on all counts and are dismissing the charges with prejudice. We urge the ICW observer to censure the British government for their appalling lack of due process. They should also pay to replace Miss Potters wand at the very least."
     
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    • Well I feel like we can predict that someone is going to do something stupid in the British government for this humiliation.
     
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