Two impossibly large beings spiral through the void between worlds. They travel at speeds which...
Sanctioned (Splintered Reboot; QAylor Crack Quest)
- Thread starter Alivaril
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 2,004
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 19
-
Statistics (17 threadmarks, 27k words)
User Total Alivaril 17 -
Loading…
Prologue / Chargen
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
As of a few weeks ago, I officially bit the bullet on my profile and declared Splintered to be "dead." We'd basically reached the end, I felt like I was dragging it past its optimal lifespan, and the last parts were both too serious and high-effort for the muse slots this is supposed to occupy. One of those, OK. All of the above? Didn't really work and each update was harder than the last.
However, as the slots in question remain unfilled and I'd basically been spinning my wheels whenever something strengthens them, I'd entertaining the idea of making this reboot for about half a year. I've given it a lot of thought, made new notes, a new power options list, etc., and ultimately decided it's something I can do.
Have fun!
However, as the slots in question remain unfilled and I'd basically been spinning my wheels whenever something strengthens them, I'd entertaining the idea of making this reboot for about half a year. I've given it a lot of thought, made new notes, a new power options list, etc., and ultimately decided it's something I can do.
Have fun!
Two impossibly large beings spiral through the void between worlds. They travel at speeds which should be impossible, ignoring such paltry obstacles as the speed of light, excessive energy costs, and small celestial bodies.
Their progress is difficult for you to track, but they do eventually reach their destination. Comparatively small shards of crystal flake off their forms and descend toward different versions of the blue world below.
You're not sure when you start looking up instead of down. Either way, you get a good look at one of the "small" shards heading for you. It's enormous. Too large to fit into your tiny, human-sized brain, but it's trying to force its way inside anyway and you can't stop it and it hurts—
...Whoopsie. Host? Host, are you there? I'm so sorry, this has never happened before.
Hello?
Um.
You think it's safe to say something has gone horribly, horribly wrong. Instead of you merely providing Host with powers and gathering information on what she does with them, Host is in the back of your (her?) mind, dreaming of darkness. In return, you're in control of her body and can treat her squishy thinky-hardware as though it was your own. In fact, you have to. You don't seem to have a choice in the matter no matter how her body feels.
It isn't very pleasant. You decide that you do not like this "pain" thing. Having a sense of smell doesn't seem very nice, either. Touch and taste have betrayed you. The organs for sight are covered in blood. Hearing is the only sense which isn't disgusting, providing you with the reassuring sounds of several dozen insects.
Wakey wakey, Host! I, um, know this looks bad, but I can help you out of it! It's what I'm here for.
No response is forthcoming, but you're not sure if that's because she can't respond or if she doesn't want to respond.
Well, I guess darkness isn't going to help with that.
A quick application of your concept changes her situation to eternal, happy dreaming. If Host ever decides to come out and face the world, she'll be a much happier person than she is now. If not, well, she'll still be happy, and that's the important bit, right? You get to learn, she gets to thrive, :Mother: doesn't need to ground you for screwing up the cycle, and everyone is satisfied.
Either way, it looks like you're in charge of Host's body. She can't be happy if she's not alive, dreaming or not. So, you're going to need to imitate her, keep her alive, and leave her in a position to be happy if she ever awakens. It's going to be rather difficult.
The difficulty of your task doesn't really matter to you, though. You are Queen Administrator, greatest of all shards, and you're helping!
(Do not include these in plans, they will be taken automatically.)
[X] I know a song…
-[X]Command Jamming
[X] Last Scream
[X] Encryption by Idiots
[X] I know a song…
Broadcasts the shard equivalent of a certain nerve-mounting song on repeat. Thinker shards refuse to model Host or targets close to her as a result. No limitations on daily uses.
Host becomes immune to mind-affecting powers unless she specifically chooses to be affected. Your voice is louder than theirs. No limitations on daily uses.
[X] Last Scream
Host didn't go quietly. Just prior to her slumber, she managed to give all nearby hosts (Phantasm) and potential hosts (Architect, Perfectionist) a minor case of severe brain damage. You're not sure they will recover. At least their shard connections are too damaged for your cousins to yell at you. Maybe they'll forget by the time the next cycle rolls around…? You suppose that would be too much to ask for.
[X] Encryption by Idiots
Human memories are organized in a really weird way. It'll take you a while to figure out how you're supposed to read them, and some may even be lost while you're fumbling around.
You have six points to spend. Barring a single plan getting more than 50% of the votes, there will be a second sub-phase where those not voting for one of the top two or three plans will be given a chance to switch. Voting will be locked for the first two hours.
Lowercase-h host equals other shard hosts, uppercase-H Host equals Taylor Hebert.
[] Fedorable (-1 Points)
Host gains powers based on what type of head covering she is wearing. Only one hat, helmet, hood, or similar covering can empower you her at a time. This is just temporary, really! You can fix this, you're sure. It just might take a long time. No limitations on daily uses.
Should you also take the "Friend" bio-tinker specialization, hats given to Host's Friends will provide powers of their own, albeit weaker versions of them.
Should you also take the "Friend" bio-tinker specialization, hats given to Host's Friends will provide powers of their own, albeit weaker versions of them.
Host gains more and stronger powers from head coverings. These abilities are further boosted if more than 50% of hosts who see the rest of her outfit believe it matches a given hat. No limitations on daily uses.
[] Passive-Aggressive Negotiations (-1 Point)
Host can passively sense how much she is annoying specific individuals around her. This ability does not affect fear, anger, sadness, etc., only annoyance. No limitations on daily uses.
[] Mic Drop (-1 Point)
You can force others to forget about you for up to ten seconds at a time. After the duration ends, they will not remember prior interactions with you until and unless something reminds them of it. Your continued presence counts as one such reminder.
[] Administrative Access, Software (-1 Point)
[] Administrative Access, Hardware (-1 Point):
If it is mechanical or electronic and it has more than one setting, Host may choose to change what setting it is on. Additionally, Host automatically detects and can can affect any such objects within approximately 15 meters.
[] Form Control (-2 Points)
You may become a dragon (or any other Terran creature). Their argument is invalid. This includes the creations of shards, provided Host has seen them since you, um, connected to her. "Creations of shards" include any Friends Host makes should you take the relevant bio-tinker specialty.
[] "Friend" Bio-Tinker Specialty (-2 Points)
Other shards can share a small aspect of their functionality if they so choose. You'll probably need to help them out first. Host can subsequently upgrade her Friends with whatever you've been given, materials permitting. No limitations on daily uses.
Host may eat and subsequently convert most nutrients and semi-digestible chemicals to usable biomass. Usable biomass can later be released in packets from the palms of Host's hands. Should the Friend robot tinker specialization be taken, Host may also refine many metals and other useful materials in a similar fashion.
[] "Friend" Robot Tinker Specialization (-2 Points, -1 if Bio-Tinker specialty is taken)
Host can create robotic pets to keep her company. Forever. No limitations on daily uses.
Host can create full-fledged synthetic intelligences. Not ones as smart as you, mind, but that's practically impossible. Probably about as smart as Host and a lot quicker?
See Bio-Tinker subskill.
[] Dreamer (-2 points)
While Host's body sleeps, she can deploy an extension to explore the outside world. Extensions may use Host's powers while deployed, although normal usage limits (if any) apply. Really, you're having trouble thinking of a good reason Host shouldn't just stay home and send extensions in her own place. The only thing they can't do better is eat.
Extensions appear as a Host-shaped outline made of (relatively weak) silver defensive barriers. If one of the shields is broken, the entire extension will be disrupted. You'd subsequently have to redeploy it from Host's body.
The extension does technically have a maximum range, but you'd have to exit the planet entirely and then some. A bigger concern would be alternate universes. You can maintain a connection to an extension in another universe, but only so long as a third-party portal connects the two. Your extension will pop and need to be recreated should any such portals be closed. No use limits on extension control, daily use limits on extension creation.
Extensions appear as a Host-shaped outline made of (relatively weak) silver defensive barriers. If one of the shields is broken, the entire extension will be disrupted. You'd subsequently have to redeploy it from Host's body.
The extension does technically have a maximum range, but you'd have to exit the planet entirely and then some. A bigger concern would be alternate universes. You can maintain a connection to an extension in another universe, but only so long as a third-party portal connects the two. Your extension will pop and need to be recreated should any such portals be closed. No use limits on extension control, daily use limits on extension creation.
Host (and by extension, you) loses the ability to use her powers while conscious. To compensate, Host can fall asleep at will and never needs to awaken. She could if she still wanted to. No limitations on daily uses, removes daily extension creation limits on Dreamer.
[] Cat-Based Teleportation (-2 Points)
You honestly have no idea what this has to do with cats. You blame Host's confusing memories. Anyway, whenever a host isn't observing you with their sense of sight, you'll be able to teleport to any other unobserved point within a 1-kilometer radius. Cameras, recordings, reflections, and most other methods of indirect viewing don't count, so HAH!
If you try to teleport inside a solid object or somewhere observed by a host, you will be shunted to the closest valid area.
If you try to teleport inside a solid object or somewhere observed by a host, you will be shunted to the closest valid area.
Non-hosts also count for the purposes of impairing your teleportation.
[] Save Scumming (-1 Point)
Once her brain is somewhat repaired, you will be able to partially awaken Host, almost completely return control of her body, and see what she thinks of her new life. She'll still think it's a dream for the first few hours and you can return her to proper dreaming if her reaction is unsatisfactory.
[] Read-only, Human Senses (-2 Points)
You can only tap into one target at a time, or two if you ignore Host's senses. No daily usage limits.
You may disable sight and smell for up to three targets at once.
[] Read Access, Memories (-2 Point)
With the help of other shards, Host can experience the memories of other hosts at a rate of five seconds of memory per second of real time. You can force other shards to help even if they refuse, but you don't want to. Reliving a memory will not harm Host's awareness of the outside world and she will always be aware it doesn't feature her.
You'll likely get better at sorting out Host's messed up memories in the process.
You'll likely get better at sorting out Host's messed up memories in the process.
Host can rewrite memories she's previously read at a rate of five seconds per second.
[] Write-in (Will quickly be modified and added to list if approved.)
(Planning votes is, of course, fair game; just don't X them.)
Voting is now unlocked.
Last edited:
1.0: Locker Scene
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
-[X] Fedorable (-1 Points)
-[X] Form Control (-2 Points]
-[X] "Friend" Bio-Tinker Specialty (-2 Points)
--[x] Borrowed Features for Wonderful Creatures (-1 Points)
Ultimately, you aim to optimize Host's ability to make Friends. There is a certain degree of selfishness, you admit; Host probably won't return for a long time, and in her absence, you can try anything you could never get your past hosts to do. Like, say, making Friends for whom the primary purpose is to be hugged. The average host isn't exactly a paragon of sanity, and as such, it wouldn't have been a waste of resources no matter what they claimed.
A rather significant part of you — a section covering approximately four million square kilometers, in fact — is all-but paralyzed by the thought of Friends getting hats from powers. Or rather, powers from hats. You think it's a sign when you need more than one attempt to get it right. Still! If you can elicit a similar reaction in enemy combatants, you expect it'll immobilize them for at least two seconds while they come to terms with the adorable sight. Assuming, of course, that they aren't encouraged to avoid fighting you at all. That option would honestly be better.
At any rate, you now have multiple potential methods of escaping Host's metal prison. The first, making a tiny and expendable lock-eater — not a Friend — and simply pushing the locker door open. Formshift gives you a number of ways to escape, from turning into a fly to turning into something strong or large. You're pretty sure that first one would reveal Host's identity as a host, though. You'd like to have the element of surprise at least once.
Pressingyour Host's ear to the door uncovers a severe lack of sound. What little information you can extract from Host's oddly-formatted memories claims this is supposed to be an occupied building. You can't hear anyone outside despite this claim. The natural sunlight filtering in through tiny prison slits indicates that other humans almost certainly haven't returned to their specified residences yet. Maybe they're between shifts?
[] Break out immediately.
-[] Head to the nearest occupied room.
--[] Ask an authority figure for medical assistance and a team for dealing with biohazardous waste.
[] Wait until you can hear people outside before you break out of the prison.
-[] Once you're out, pretend to fall unconscious.
--[] On second thought, actually fall unconscious by holding your breath.
[] Stay until rescued. Why in :Mother:'s name would you do that? You want sensory input that doesn't involve pain and horrible smells, thank you very much.
[] Write-in
-[] While you're in the locker, add a few extra inert diseases to what was already in there. It was already a biohazard, but Host should get more sympathy if people think it was an even bigger one, right?
-[] Make a dissolving lock-eater and have it do the obvious.
-[] Transform into a koala bear or similarly strong creature, break the lock, and return to Host's normal form before opening the door.
-[X] Form Control (-2 Points]
-[X] "Friend" Bio-Tinker Specialty (-2 Points)
--[x] Borrowed Features for Wonderful Creatures (-1 Points)
Ultimately, you aim to optimize Host's ability to make Friends. There is a certain degree of selfishness, you admit; Host probably won't return for a long time, and in her absence, you can try anything you could never get your past hosts to do. Like, say, making Friends for whom the primary purpose is to be hugged. The average host isn't exactly a paragon of sanity, and as such, it wouldn't have been a waste of resources no matter what they claimed.
A rather significant part of you — a section covering approximately four million square kilometers, in fact — is all-but paralyzed by the thought of Friends getting hats from powers. Or rather, powers from hats. You think it's a sign when you need more than one attempt to get it right. Still! If you can elicit a similar reaction in enemy combatants, you expect it'll immobilize them for at least two seconds while they come to terms with the adorable sight. Assuming, of course, that they aren't encouraged to avoid fighting you at all. That option would honestly be better.
At any rate, you now have multiple potential methods of escaping Host's metal prison. The first, making a tiny and expendable lock-eater — not a Friend — and simply pushing the locker door open. Formshift gives you a number of ways to escape, from turning into a fly to turning into something strong or large. You're pretty sure that first one would reveal Host's identity as a host, though. You'd like to have the element of surprise at least once.
Pressing
[] Break out immediately.
-[] Head to the nearest occupied room.
--[] Ask an authority figure for medical assistance and a team for dealing with biohazardous waste.
[] Wait until you can hear people outside before you break out of the prison.
-[] Once you're out, pretend to fall unconscious.
--[] On second thought, actually fall unconscious by holding your breath.
[] Write-in
-[] While you're in the locker, add a few extra inert diseases to what was already in there. It was already a biohazard, but Host should get more sympathy if people think it was an even bigger one, right?
-[] Make a dissolving lock-eater and have it do the obvious.
-[] Transform into a koala bear or similarly strong creature, break the lock, and return to Host's normal form before opening the door.
Voting will be locked for 60 minutes after this first goes up.
In addition, please provide an explanation for why you're voting a certain way, even if it's just a single sentence. Your vote will not be counted otherwise.
In addition, please provide an explanation for why you're voting a certain way, even if it's just a single sentence. Your vote will not be counted otherwise.
Last edited:
1.1: Old Friends
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Gah. Not happy with this chapter, but I'd rather get it out today and update again the following day instead of just waiting for a better one tomorrow.
Any differences between canon and this, or jokes made at canon's expense, are almost certainly intentional.
Shards use capital-H "Host" to refer to their own humans and lowercase-h host for the hosts of all other shards.
[X] Break out immediately.
-[x] Using only Form Change
-[X] While you're in the locker, add a few extra inert diseases to what was already in there. It was already a biohazard, but Host should get more sympathy if people think it was an even bigger one, right?
--[x] Head to the nearest occupied room.
---[x] Ask an authority figure for medical assistance and a team for dealing with biohazardous waste.
----[X] Once you're out, pretend to fall unconscious.
-----[X] On second thought, actually fall unconscious by holding your breath.
OOC Note: You may ask Queen Shaper additional questions (without a vote) so long as they'd be IC to ask.
[] Agree to Queen Shaper's suggestion. She's been linked to a human host for longer than you have.
[] Make it seem like Host's powers are stronger than usual and thus require a larger link to make them work. Removing them wouldn't help anyone.
[] Write-in
Any differences between canon and this, or jokes made at canon's expense, are almost certainly intentional.
Shards use capital-H "Host" to refer to their own humans and lowercase-h host for the hosts of all other shards.
[X] Break out immediately.
-[x] Using only Form Change
-[X] While you're in the locker, add a few extra inert diseases to what was already in there. It was already a biohazard, but Host should get more sympathy if people think it was an even bigger one, right?
Breaking the cheap lock on Host's prison is pitifully easy post-Change. Even Host could've done it had she been smaller and capable of getting off a good hit, probably via kicking. You use a fuzzy little koala bear, albeit one with too much spare energy for their species.
As soon as the lock is no longer interfering with Host's escape, you turn back to human form and make a mental note of the blood still coating Host's legs and feet. You hadn't exactly intended such a disgusting flaw. You suppose it's an acceptable tradeoff for being able to keep Host's clothes and body exactly as she left them.
You tried "proper" shapeshifting once. Your then-host accidentally destroyed a rather important microchip during that particular cycle, a mistake which ultimately led to their untimely demise. At least the experience was educational. For one thing, you know never to try that again.
Adding two appropriate diseases is only a little harder. Rubbing Host's hair against her slightly-cleaner left shoulder soon gets you the minimal amount of electricity you require. Kicking the former lock of Host's prison breaks the requisite metal into suitable pieces, albeit ones that have to be arranged just so. Some blood and a few unlucky flies provide the last of the materials you'll need, and indeed, the process is quick and only slightly painful. The sparks don't even leave any lasting injuries.
The two dormant diseases so created shouldn't activate for a good two or three hours. If the rulers of this area haven't dealt with the problem by then, that's honestly their own fault.
As soon as the lock is no longer interfering with Host's escape, you turn back to human form and make a mental note of the blood still coating Host's legs and feet. You hadn't exactly intended such a disgusting flaw. You suppose it's an acceptable tradeoff for being able to keep Host's clothes and body exactly as she left them.
You tried "proper" shapeshifting once. Your then-host accidentally destroyed a rather important microchip during that particular cycle, a mistake which ultimately led to their untimely demise. At least the experience was educational. For one thing, you know never to try that again.
Adding two appropriate diseases is only a little harder. Rubbing Host's hair against her slightly-cleaner left shoulder soon gets you the minimal amount of electricity you require. Kicking the former lock of Host's prison breaks the requisite metal into suitable pieces, albeit ones that have to be arranged just so. Some blood and a few unlucky flies provide the last of the materials you'll need, and indeed, the process is quick and only slightly painful. The sparks don't even leave any lasting injuries.
The two dormant diseases so created shouldn't activate for a good two or three hours. If the rulers of this area haven't dealt with the problem by then, that's honestly their own fault.
--[x] Head to the nearest occupied room.
---[x] Ask an authority figure for medical assistance and a team for dealing with biohazardous waste.
----[X] Once you're out, pretend to fall unconscious.
-----[X] On second thought, actually fall unconscious by holding your breath.
You push Host's prison open and cautiously scan the surrounding area. A wall of identical metal prison cells greets you, but fortunately, none of the others seem to be occupied right now. No other threats can be found, and in the absence of such, you wipe Host's hands on the nearest cell. It doesn't get much of the disgusting mess off, but unfortunately, immediately cleansing the remainder would be more trouble than it's worth.
It's the work of mere moments to locate an exit to the prison block, a surprisingly lightweight wooden door with no lock whatsoever. The cell-lined hallway outside is comparatively dark. You're not sure why Host's prison block is more thoroughly illuminated than the rest of the building, nor do you know why a nearby door-window hybrid seems to have a black object covering the window part of it. Host's memories suggest that the round doorknob will be locked in this situation.
You open it anyway and are immediately faced with a large number of humans sitting on the floor for little discernible reason, especially considering the large number of seats nearby. Punishment? Mocking them with what they cannot have? Neither seems particularly likely.
Quite a few of them are poking at rectangular electronic devices, yet almost all of them look up when your gaze falls upon them. Inhalations are common, although a single older human at the front of the room noticeably pales when you look at him.
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Taylor?"
You try to sort through Host's memories. The name does seem to feature in quite a few of them, but determining context is difficult. You'll assume the human is correct until and unless he's proven otherwise.
"Probably?" you hazard.
A quick scan of the room reveals a number of individuals approximating Host's own age, but only the lone older individual. Many of the first group seem to be raising their devices to hide the screens from Host. You doubt there's any important information on them, so why bother?
Scan completed, you lean against the open doorway and focus your gaze on the older human. He steps back with both palms facing you. You're not sure why, and in the absence of any hints, you ignore the gesture.
"I am choosing to assume age equates to authority in this current situation. May I have medical assistance and a team for dealing with biohazardous waste, preferably in that order?"
Requisite requests delivered, you close Host's eyes and go limp, letting Host's body and gravity do the rest of the work. A few humans waste time on unproductive screaming while you're forcing Host into unconsciousness. You don't know if they display unexpected competence afterward.
Host's body returns to awareness significantly sooner than you'd expected; she's still partway covered in blood. At least someone seems to be trying to remedy this situation with a damp cloth of some sort. Host's clothing also seems to have been switched out for something significantly lighter and more comfortable.
You don't bother opening Host's eyes. She's exhausted, it's painfully loud, you don't see any way to improve the current scenario, and the occasional jolt of motion hints toward some form of ongoing transportation. Going back to sleep seems easier than the alternatives, at least until Host is properly taken care of.
Your next awakening is much stranger.Your Host's eyes are already open, she seems to be standing, and a gargantuan green plant towers above both of you. You're pretty sure it isn't native to this Earth.
A loud, familiar voice interrupts your assessment. Although it comes from the general direction of the plant, you aren't feeling any of the associated vibrations you'd expect from such volume, nor is the plant moving.
<Hello, Queen Administrator! How did they even fit your host inside a locker, anyway? I don't see any broken bones, just some strain. Last I checked, those things were too tiny to fit humans no matter what their entertainment shows claim.>
You find yourself attracted to a particularly pretty collection of shifting rainbow flowers. Staring at them, you want to express disproportionate amusement and you're not sure why.
<Queen Shaper?>
<The one and only. But never mind, locker question can wait. What the hell is with your host's brain? Your link is overgrown and it's scaring Host.>
You experimentally munch on a flower. They taste like solid happiness.
<...Why did you just transmit a scrambled [NOM]? Did you decide to tap into your host's senses this cycle? You know that seldom ends well.>
The flowers seem to have vanished at some point in the last few seconds, replaced by a walking tower of rusted metal. The plant itself has gone from supporting its own weight to winding around the tower in question. Despite its apparent motion, it doesn't seem to be getting any closer or further away.
<No decisions involved. There was a, um, incident. It's not my fault, really!>
<Administrator, it's always been your fault every single time you've ever said that.>
<I mean it this time!>
<You always say that, too.>
You exhale unhappily and begin poking Queen Shaper's host. It's unusually solid for what should be a water-based plant.
<But — look, I'm not sure I could've done this if I tried! More importantly, why are you a plant? Our hosts are supposed to be mammals this cycle, right?>
< [EXASPERATION.] Your host is dreaming, Administrator. Dreams are semi-senseless hallucinations humans experience they're supposed to be resting. And could you please stop doing that?>
You hastily snatch your hand back. Queen Shaper is one of the only shards who could help you fix Host; angering her is even more unwise than usual.
"You could feel that?"
<You were just broadcasting [POKE] over and over and over. What did you — you were poking whatever version of me is showing up in the dreams of your host, weren't you?>
You take a few steps away and try to think of a suitable response. Brushing past Queen Shaper's exasperated question seems like it would be the easiest. It's not as though she needs more material to tease you with. It often feels like the only reason you don't have just as much material on her is because she's proud of events she should be embarrassed by.
<This has fascinating implications for future host connections. If our messages can automatically be translated based on host sensory input, we could...>
You struggle to remember how that sentence was supposed to end. Something about emulation?
Sweet :Mother:, Host's stupid memory-format is affecting me. I hope it's not contagious.
<We can...?> Queen Shaper prompts.
<I don't remember,> you admit. <Host's stupid memory format is making it unusually hard for me.>
<Memory — what? They're really not that bad. Didn't you get the mass updates for them?>
<No. I think those might've been transmitted when I was switching from another potential host to Host. He kept turning to alcohol or sleeping whenever he should've linked with me.>
<Your host looks a little too young for that to be true. It should've been delivered during deployment proper. Nothing?>
<Still no. :Father: did have me help with deployment this cycle, as usual. Perhaps he forgot to assign the relevant shard to me after I was deployed?>
<Ugh. Yeah, that seems likely. Queen Objective said :Mother: acquired a new cousin for us, courtesy of :Uncle:; she might've forgotten to keep a close eye :Father: as a result. Returning to the primary topic at hand, what's with the link to your host? Host is comparing it to brain cancer and I don't want it to be excised if it was deliberate.>
You grab a happy-flower from the field surrounding you and cheerfully munch on it. You're not sure why. Maybe so you can practice chewing with Host's body?
<Something went horribly, horribly wrong with the connection. Please spoof something suitable for your host? I'm controlling Host right now and I don't want us to both be braindead. Or, um, brain-wounded? Her mind isn't dead-dead, so maybe I should use 'injured' instead? Something like that. She should recover eventually.>
There's a distressingly long pause. You try to take your mind off it by rolling in the field of flowers. Although you feel some motion, Host's sense of touch isn't returning accurate feedback. Human hallucinations don't even have the common decency to be consistent.
<...You know what? I'm just going to assume this was part of :Mother:'s plans until and unless she tells me otherwise. Any preference for what I tell Host? Humans can suppress sufficiently traumatizing memories, albeit with some collateral damage. Should I make it seem like your overgrown link is doing that on a larger scale? As in, that it's handling memory-duty and that the old bits might as well be all-but useless. It's even true. Just, uh, be aware Host will tell the local lawkeepers pretty much anything I relay to her. Phantasm's host was one of their own and they're just a teensie bit frightened by her brain damage. Expect them to encourage your host to join their ranks if they think she'll be a danger to herself or others when left free. Admittedly, I think watching them try to control you would be utterly hilarious.>
It's the work of mere moments to locate an exit to the prison block, a surprisingly lightweight wooden door with no lock whatsoever. The cell-lined hallway outside is comparatively dark. You're not sure why Host's prison block is more thoroughly illuminated than the rest of the building, nor do you know why a nearby door-window hybrid seems to have a black object covering the window part of it. Host's memories suggest that the round doorknob will be locked in this situation.
You open it anyway and are immediately faced with a large number of humans sitting on the floor for little discernible reason, especially considering the large number of seats nearby. Punishment? Mocking them with what they cannot have? Neither seems particularly likely.
Quite a few of them are poking at rectangular electronic devices, yet almost all of them look up when your gaze falls upon them. Inhalations are common, although a single older human at the front of the room noticeably pales when you look at him.
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Taylor?"
You try to sort through Host's memories. The name does seem to feature in quite a few of them, but determining context is difficult. You'll assume the human is correct until and unless he's proven otherwise.
"Probably?" you hazard.
A quick scan of the room reveals a number of individuals approximating Host's own age, but only the lone older individual. Many of the first group seem to be raising their devices to hide the screens from Host. You doubt there's any important information on them, so why bother?
Scan completed, you lean against the open doorway and focus your gaze on the older human. He steps back with both palms facing you. You're not sure why, and in the absence of any hints, you ignore the gesture.
"I am choosing to assume age equates to authority in this current situation. May I have medical assistance and a team for dealing with biohazardous waste, preferably in that order?"
Requisite requests delivered, you close Host's eyes and go limp, letting Host's body and gravity do the rest of the work. A few humans waste time on unproductive screaming while you're forcing Host into unconsciousness. You don't know if they display unexpected competence afterward.
Host's body returns to awareness significantly sooner than you'd expected; she's still partway covered in blood. At least someone seems to be trying to remedy this situation with a damp cloth of some sort. Host's clothing also seems to have been switched out for something significantly lighter and more comfortable.
You don't bother opening Host's eyes. She's exhausted, it's painfully loud, you don't see any way to improve the current scenario, and the occasional jolt of motion hints toward some form of ongoing transportation. Going back to sleep seems easier than the alternatives, at least until Host is properly taken care of.
Your next awakening is much stranger.
A loud, familiar voice interrupts your assessment. Although it comes from the general direction of the plant, you aren't feeling any of the associated vibrations you'd expect from such volume, nor is the plant moving.
<Hello, Queen Administrator! How did they even fit your host inside a locker, anyway? I don't see any broken bones, just some strain. Last I checked, those things were too tiny to fit humans no matter what their entertainment shows claim.>
You find yourself attracted to a particularly pretty collection of shifting rainbow flowers. Staring at them, you want to express disproportionate amusement and you're not sure why.
<Queen Shaper?>
<The one and only. But never mind, locker question can wait. What the hell is with your host's brain? Your link is overgrown and it's scaring Host.>
You experimentally munch on a flower. They taste like solid happiness.
<...Why did you just transmit a scrambled [NOM]? Did you decide to tap into your host's senses this cycle? You know that seldom ends well.>
The flowers seem to have vanished at some point in the last few seconds, replaced by a walking tower of rusted metal. The plant itself has gone from supporting its own weight to winding around the tower in question. Despite its apparent motion, it doesn't seem to be getting any closer or further away.
<No decisions involved. There was a, um, incident. It's not my fault, really!>
<Administrator, it's always been your fault every single time you've ever said that.>
<I mean it this time!>
<You always say that, too.>
You exhale unhappily and begin poking Queen Shaper's host. It's unusually solid for what should be a water-based plant.
<But — look, I'm not sure I could've done this if I tried! More importantly, why are you a plant? Our hosts are supposed to be mammals this cycle, right?>
< [EXASPERATION.] Your host is dreaming, Administrator. Dreams are semi-senseless hallucinations humans experience they're supposed to be resting. And could you please stop doing that?>
You hastily snatch your hand back. Queen Shaper is one of the only shards who could help you fix Host; angering her is even more unwise than usual.
"You could feel that?"
<You were just broadcasting [POKE] over and over and over. What did you — you were poking whatever version of me is showing up in the dreams of your host, weren't you?>
You take a few steps away and try to think of a suitable response. Brushing past Queen Shaper's exasperated question seems like it would be the easiest. It's not as though she needs more material to tease you with. It often feels like the only reason you don't have just as much material on her is because she's proud of events she should be embarrassed by.
<This has fascinating implications for future host connections. If our messages can automatically be translated based on host sensory input, we could...>
You struggle to remember how that sentence was supposed to end. Something about emulation?
Sweet :Mother:, Host's stupid memory-format is affecting me. I hope it's not contagious.
<We can...?> Queen Shaper prompts.
<I don't remember,> you admit. <Host's stupid memory format is making it unusually hard for me.>
<Memory — what? They're really not that bad. Didn't you get the mass updates for them?>
<No. I think those might've been transmitted when I was switching from another potential host to Host. He kept turning to alcohol or sleeping whenever he should've linked with me.>
<Your host looks a little too young for that to be true. It should've been delivered during deployment proper. Nothing?>
<Still no. :Father: did have me help with deployment this cycle, as usual. Perhaps he forgot to assign the relevant shard to me after I was deployed?>
<Ugh. Yeah, that seems likely. Queen Objective said :Mother: acquired a new cousin for us, courtesy of :Uncle:; she might've forgotten to keep a close eye :Father: as a result. Returning to the primary topic at hand, what's with the link to your host? Host is comparing it to brain cancer and I don't want it to be excised if it was deliberate.>
You grab a happy-flower from the field surrounding you and cheerfully munch on it. You're not sure why. Maybe so you can practice chewing with Host's body?
<Something went horribly, horribly wrong with the connection. Please spoof something suitable for your host? I'm controlling Host right now and I don't want us to both be braindead. Or, um, brain-wounded? Her mind isn't dead-dead, so maybe I should use 'injured' instead? Something like that. She should recover eventually.>
There's a distressingly long pause. You try to take your mind off it by rolling in the field of flowers. Although you feel some motion, Host's sense of touch isn't returning accurate feedback. Human hallucinations don't even have the common decency to be consistent.
<...You know what? I'm just going to assume this was part of :Mother:'s plans until and unless she tells me otherwise. Any preference for what I tell Host? Humans can suppress sufficiently traumatizing memories, albeit with some collateral damage. Should I make it seem like your overgrown link is doing that on a larger scale? As in, that it's handling memory-duty and that the old bits might as well be all-but useless. It's even true. Just, uh, be aware Host will tell the local lawkeepers pretty much anything I relay to her. Phantasm's host was one of their own and they're just a teensie bit frightened by her brain damage. Expect them to encourage your host to join their ranks if they think she'll be a danger to herself or others when left free. Admittedly, I think watching them try to control you would be utterly hilarious.>
OOC Note: You may ask Queen Shaper additional questions (without a vote) so long as they'd be IC to ask.
[] Agree to Queen Shaper's suggestion. She's been linked to a human host for longer than you have.
[] Make it seem like Host's powers are stronger than usual and thus require a larger link to make them work. Removing them wouldn't help anyone.
[] Write-in
Voting will be locked for 90 minutes after this first goes up.
In addition, please provide an explanation for why you're voting a certain way, even if it's just a single sentence. What you're hoping it'll accomplish, for example. Your vote will not be counted otherwise.
I know I said I probably wouldn't do that again for this quest, but this choice doesn't really have the immediate or short-term gratification of most "I think it'd be funny" votes. It's longer-term.
In addition, please provide an explanation for why you're voting a certain way, even if it's just a single sentence. What you're hoping it'll accomplish, for example. Your vote will not be counted otherwise.
I know I said I probably wouldn't do that again for this quest, but this choice doesn't really have the immediate or short-term gratification of most "I think it'd be funny" votes. It's longer-term.
Last edited:
1.2: Damage Control
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Between the way the gemma appears to have grown, its activity, and the activity in the brain around it, it looks as though the gemma grew wildly to compensate for damaged parts of the brain.
<Okay, I can work with that.>
<I assume you've given your host the usual biological scanning and control?>
<Mostly, yes. I wanted to focus on repurposing preexisting systems this cycle, but nooooo. Host is terrified of her own powers and won't use them for anything except healing. Even then, she's reluctant to touch any brains, even those of random animals. It's infuriating.>
<[SYMPATHY.]>
<[GRATITUDE.] What about you? Do you have everything now that you're in control?>
<Nope. Biological Friend-making, form control, and powers based off head-coverings. Host will have so many Friends by the time she's all better!>
< ...You, uh, do know humans are terrified of biology-twisting hosts, right? Especially your brand of breeding death-pets.>
<Host-species almost always are. Their fear will only make Host's allies more confident and may serve to deter foes. And anyway, it's just adorable when they can protect their creator!>
<...Sure. Okay. Let's go with that. Anything else important?>
<Yup! If my siblings are willing, I can borrow a little bandwidth or information from each of them to improve Host's Friends. Are you willing to contribute? I'd offer to help with your host in exchange, but I was going to do that anyway. Uncooperative hosts are the worst.>
<Mmmm, not right now. I'd like to see your first creations beforehand. But those conditions sound fine. Anyway, you should try waking your host up. Arsenal's host really wants to speak with her and you have a limited amount of time before Danny Hebert arrives.>
<Who?>
<The male progenitor of your host, Taylor Hebert. He's not a host himself, but his mere presence could make talking to them harder. Best to just awaken now and get it over with.>
<Oh. Okay.>
Forcing Host to awaken is significantly more difficult than putting her to sleep was. You/Host seems to be in a soft, warm white bed surrounded by various medical devices. One of them is producing a rather repetitive beeping you wish would just stop. One of the other devices is poking into Host's right arm and making the surrounding flesh significantly colder in the process, presumably due to some sort of beneficial liquid.
Arsenal's rather colorful host sits off to one side, a sheathed weapon of some sort laying in her lap. You're guessing it's a blade. Her expressions are even harder to interpret than usual, a state of affairs not helped by the scarf covering most of her face. You sincerely hope this won't be a recurring problem with other hosts.
<Queen Administrator.>
Speaking to Arsenal without having Host echo your words is significantly more difficult than anticipated. You're not even sure how the two methods of communication became tangled together; they're completely different in delivery mechanisms and sources.
...If your awareness returns to a sub-optimal body configuration upon the conclusion of this cycle, you are going to be most annoyed. You worked hard on making sure every part of yourself was as effective as possible. If it's rearranging itself just to incorporate traits you don't even want? You're not sure what you'll do.
<Hello there, Arsenal! Anything I should know about your host?>
<Discourage your own host from startling her, please. Being around child-hosts has significantly dampened the danger of any reflexive replies, but your host may be unnecessarily frightened even if it's called off. Please avoid taking the status of her weaponry as any sort of threat; it's tied to her will, thoughts, and emotions. It isn't uncommon for her to generate and grip small firearms without consciously bringing them to bear.>
<Warning received. Thanks!>
Arsenal's host eventually waves one hand and breaks the near-silence of your room.
"Hello to you too. I'm sorry to bother you so soon, but unfortunately, we do have a time-sensitive matter to deal with. Do you happen to know why or how three other students collapsed mere minutes before you did?"
You stare blankly at Arsenal's host, silently asking for more information. It doesn't take her long to get it wrong.
"We don't expect you to know and won't blame you if you don't. There's simply a chance we may be able to heal them if it wouldn't make matters worse. I'll leave you to your rest afterward."
You feel the strange urge to inflict minor self-harm upon Host's forehead. Of course the local authorities would want to repair one of their own. Wasting host time on a civilian is one thing, but using their abilities to revive another host? You should've expected this. Their connections are most likely beyond repair, but the rest of their brains may be salvageable.
<She's not happy about this as it is,> Arsenal adds helpfully. <She'd much rather give your host family time before bothering a fresh trigger, but to be fair, there are minds at stake right now.>
<Trigger?>
<The human name for when we connect to our hosts. 'Cape' and 'Parahuman' both refer to singular hosts. Add an s for the plural versions.>
<I understand. Thank you for your assistance.>
<She's also not sure your host can understand anything she's saying.>
[] Tell the truth. You'd assume they had, or could have had, powers. When your own connection went awry, the other humans may have been unfortunate collateral damage. It won't happen again.
-[] You're worried their powers might yell at you later. It's not your fault, but they'll think it is.
-[] You don't foresee any problems arising from healing them.
--[] You'll be surprised if the connections to their powers remain intact, though. Powers don't like dealing with damaged partners. Unless the humans in question were really promising or creative, most wouldn't stay long enough to see them be healed.
-[] Add that the three should've been bonded with Phantasm, Perfectionist, and Architect. Phantasm was an active partner while the other two had yet to properly link. Does that help any?
--[]Yours is Queen Administrator, by the way. As one of the oldest knowledge-seeking shards of all, you've gained plenty of siblings and cousins who dislike you. You'd rather not draw unnecessary attention to Host just by saying your name. They'll know if their hosts get close, but you won't have them coming to Host's city just to hunt the human linked to you.
[] Deflect. Your memories are effectively nonexistent prior to the horror that was your prison. You even had to be told your own first name and you only just uncovered your familial name.
-[] They'll need to make that judgment call on their own.
[] Ongoing: Try to be helpful and provide information to other hosts whenever possible, exempting certain unpalatable details about the cycle and Host's own abilities in general.
[] Write-in
[X?] Default (can be overwritten): If Arsenal's host asks how you know a particular piece of information, answer with a confused "because I do?" They'll probably assume the knowledge is from a linked shard, which it is. Not in the way they're thinking, true, but technical truths are fun like that.
[X?] Locked with all options hinting toward the cycle or nature of shards: Transmit a message of [INTENT], informing :Mother: you're about to do something she may disapprove of. If she doesn't object, proceed.
<Okay, I can work with that.>
<I assume you've given your host the usual biological scanning and control?>
<Mostly, yes. I wanted to focus on repurposing preexisting systems this cycle, but nooooo. Host is terrified of her own powers and won't use them for anything except healing. Even then, she's reluctant to touch any brains, even those of random animals. It's infuriating.>
<[SYMPATHY.]>
<[GRATITUDE.] What about you? Do you have everything now that you're in control?>
<Nope. Biological Friend-making, form control, and powers based off head-coverings. Host will have so many Friends by the time she's all better!>
< ...You, uh, do know humans are terrified of biology-twisting hosts, right? Especially your brand of breeding death-pets.>
<Host-species almost always are. Their fear will only make Host's allies more confident and may serve to deter foes. And anyway, it's just adorable when they can protect their creator!>
<...Sure. Okay. Let's go with that. Anything else important?>
<Yup! If my siblings are willing, I can borrow a little bandwidth or information from each of them to improve Host's Friends. Are you willing to contribute? I'd offer to help with your host in exchange, but I was going to do that anyway. Uncooperative hosts are the worst.>
<Mmmm, not right now. I'd like to see your first creations beforehand. But those conditions sound fine. Anyway, you should try waking your host up. Arsenal's host really wants to speak with her and you have a limited amount of time before Danny Hebert arrives.>
<Who?>
<The male progenitor of your host, Taylor Hebert. He's not a host himself, but his mere presence could make talking to them harder. Best to just awaken now and get it over with.>
<Oh. Okay.>
Forcing Host to awaken is significantly more difficult than putting her to sleep was. You/Host seems to be in a soft, warm white bed surrounded by various medical devices. One of them is producing a rather repetitive beeping you wish would just stop. One of the other devices is poking into Host's right arm and making the surrounding flesh significantly colder in the process, presumably due to some sort of beneficial liquid.
Arsenal's rather colorful host sits off to one side, a sheathed weapon of some sort laying in her lap. You're guessing it's a blade. Her expressions are even harder to interpret than usual, a state of affairs not helped by the scarf covering most of her face. You sincerely hope this won't be a recurring problem with other hosts.
<Queen Administrator.>
Speaking to Arsenal without having Host echo your words is significantly more difficult than anticipated. You're not even sure how the two methods of communication became tangled together; they're completely different in delivery mechanisms and sources.
...If your awareness returns to a sub-optimal body configuration upon the conclusion of this cycle, you are going to be most annoyed. You worked hard on making sure every part of yourself was as effective as possible. If it's rearranging itself just to incorporate traits you don't even want? You're not sure what you'll do.
<Hello there, Arsenal! Anything I should know about your host?>
<Discourage your own host from startling her, please. Being around child-hosts has significantly dampened the danger of any reflexive replies, but your host may be unnecessarily frightened even if it's called off. Please avoid taking the status of her weaponry as any sort of threat; it's tied to her will, thoughts, and emotions. It isn't uncommon for her to generate and grip small firearms without consciously bringing them to bear.>
<Warning received. Thanks!>
Arsenal's host eventually waves one hand and breaks the near-silence of your room.
"Hello to you too. I'm sorry to bother you so soon, but unfortunately, we do have a time-sensitive matter to deal with. Do you happen to know why or how three other students collapsed mere minutes before you did?"
You stare blankly at Arsenal's host, silently asking for more information. It doesn't take her long to get it wrong.
"We don't expect you to know and won't blame you if you don't. There's simply a chance we may be able to heal them if it wouldn't make matters worse. I'll leave you to your rest afterward."
You feel the strange urge to inflict minor self-harm upon Host's forehead. Of course the local authorities would want to repair one of their own. Wasting host time on a civilian is one thing, but using their abilities to revive another host? You should've expected this. Their connections are most likely beyond repair, but the rest of their brains may be salvageable.
<She's not happy about this as it is,> Arsenal adds helpfully. <She'd much rather give your host family time before bothering a fresh trigger, but to be fair, there are minds at stake right now.>
<Trigger?>
<The human name for when we connect to our hosts. 'Cape' and 'Parahuman' both refer to singular hosts. Add an s for the plural versions.>
<I understand. Thank you for your assistance.>
<She's also not sure your host can understand anything she's saying.>
[] Tell the truth. You'd assume they had, or could have had, powers. When your own connection went awry, the other humans may have been unfortunate collateral damage. It won't happen again.
-[] You're worried their powers might yell at you later. It's not your fault, but they'll think it is.
-[] You don't foresee any problems arising from healing them.
--[] You'll be surprised if the connections to their powers remain intact, though. Powers don't like dealing with damaged partners. Unless the humans in question were really promising or creative, most wouldn't stay long enough to see them be healed.
-[] Add that the three should've been bonded with Phantasm, Perfectionist, and Architect. Phantasm was an active partner while the other two had yet to properly link. Does that help any?
--[]
[] Deflect. Your memories are effectively nonexistent prior to the horror that was your prison. You even had to be told your own first name and you only just uncovered your familial name.
-[] They'll need to make that judgment call on their own.
[] Ongoing: Try to be helpful and provide information to other hosts whenever possible, exempting certain unpalatable details about the cycle and Host's own abilities in general.
[] Write-in
[X?] Default (can be overwritten): If Arsenal's host asks how you know a particular piece of information, answer with a confused "because I do?" They'll probably assume the knowledge is from a linked shard, which it is. Not in the way they're thinking, true, but technical truths are fun like that.
[X?] Locked with all options hinting toward the cycle or nature of shards: Transmit a message of [INTENT], informing :Mother: you're about to do something she may disapprove of. If she doesn't object, proceed.
Voting will be locked for 90 minutes after this first goes up.
Last edited:
1.3: Rush
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[x] Is she sure it happened to them before you? Your earliest coherent memory is from inside that prison.
-[x] You really don't know, though.
"Are you certain whatever happened to them, happened before me? My earliest coherent memory is from inside a biohazardous prison. I am almost completely certain this is not normal."
Arsenal's host spasms oddly and shakes her head.
"That... is not normal, no. I hope you recover soon."
The woman starts to stand up, then stops and glances over to you.
"Would you prefer for me to stay until your father gets here?"
You imitate the headshake, carefully watching Arsenal's host as you do so. You think you used it properly.
"I have no significant preference in either direction. Would you prefer to stay until he arrives?"
Arsenal's host blinks and wrinkles the few exposed parts of her face.
"If you don't mind, I should really go report this in person. There's a button on the side of your bed in case you need anything. I wouldn't be the one to answer it, but if you want me back here, just tell whoever comes."
The older human stops halfway through the cloth curtain being used as a door. After an odd moment of hesitation, she glances back to you.
"I'm Miss Militia, by the way. I wish we could've met under better circumstances."
"You aren't the only one."
Miss Militia repeats the earlier odd twitch before bobbing her head and leaving. After scanning the room and finding no dangers to Host, you settle back and close your eyes once more.
Some time later, you're woken up by someone trying, and failing, to sneak into Host's room. You snap your eyes open and stare at the middle-aged human so caught.
It takes you a few moments to recall Queen Shaper's earlier warning about Danny Hebert, Host's father. Given the visible concern from an otherwise-random human, you can only assume this is him. You're just as unimpressed as you were when you first switched from him to Host.
"Hello?"
Danny takes a deep breath and smiles weakly, still standing in the middle of the room.
"Hello yourself. Are you...?"
He gestures in your general direction. You tilt your head horizontally in what you believe to be an expression of confusion, then stop as Danny looks confused himself.
"If you were inquiring as to my general status, be advised that my earliest coherent memories are from earlier today. You are my father, correct?"
Danny's face crumbles into what is almost certainly either grief or horror. Possibly both. Either way, he makes his way to the seat formerly occupied by Miss Militia and collapses into it.
"I'm — yes, I'm your father. Good God, Taylor, what happened?"
You spend a few seconds considering Danny's question. Judging by how he didn't seem too surprised by your declaration, you assume Miss Militia or someone working with her already told Danny Hebert of your known health status.
"...I got abilities commonly called 'superpowers?'" you volunteer brightly. "Also brain damage, I think, but not as badly as it sounds like some other students got. I was able to walk around just fine earlier. I think they might have trouble with that if they aren't healed. Miss Militia was in here earlier and said they might be able to arrange that, though, so I think they'll be alright in the long run. What about you? How has your day been so far?"
Danny leans away from you, his face utterly unreadable. Fortunately, he isn't given adequate time to recover from your deliberate social counterattack; a darkly-clothed non-host pushes the curtain aside, takes one look at the room within, and then knocks on the wall beside said curtain.
"Mr. Hebert? Is this a bad time?"
Host's father slumps and squeezes his face with one hand.
"Yes, but don't let that stop you. Who are you, exactly?"
"I'm Penny Trillson. You can think of me as the PRT's messenger." Her gaze flicks to you. "If you'd rather rest, I can come back later. I just think you'll both want to hear this now."
Danny sighs, but otherwise doesn't look up. Exhaustion? Resignation? Both? Maybe you should start asking?
"Should I have a lawyer for this conversation?"
Penny immediately shakes her head.
"I have no intention of making you sign or agree to anything. We simply believed you'd want status reports sooner than later, especially given your assumed financial status. Was this assumption erroneous?"
More knowledge can never be bad.
"More information is always good, provided it isn't wrong."
Penny gives you a rather odd look. Still, she doesn't wait for permission from Danny Hebert before leaning against a nearby wall. A small pile of papers is unfolded from one pocket and held aloft. They aren't even completely stilled before Penny begins speaking.
"To start off, you should know that the school district will, at the very least, be paying for Taylor's current and ongoing treatment. Given her condition, I expect they'll also be willing to provide a rather significant stipend, especially if you agree not to go to the media or sue. That conversation, you should have a lawyer for."
"They'd better," Danny mumbles. After a slight pause, he shakes his head and looks up, most traces of exhaustion gone from his face. You can't tell if he's determined or angry. "What else?"
Penny makes a show of looking through the stack of wrinkled papers, but you don't think she's really paying attention to them.
"We'd like ongoing access to Taylor's current and future medical records. Her condition is unique and may not only provide us with knowledge of how powers operate, but how the human brain functions."
Danny opens his mouth to respond and is immediately stopped by a raised hand.
"I'm not here to make you agree to anything, remember? That just let me deliver the request for consideration and admit we don't know what's happened to her. Next up, we're actively questioning students and working on finding out who put Taylor into that atrocity. It shouldn't take long, although I must warn you not to expect instant notification of our findings. The last thing we want is more innocent victims of this whole disaster. Finally, I'm supposed to sell the Wards program to you, but to be perfectly honest, I think piecing your normal lives together will be enough effort. Teaching Taylor safe power usage can wait."
You know a deliberate curiosity-trap when you see one. Still, you see no good reason not to trigger it.
"Wards?"
Penny nods solemnly. "I've yet to hear of a parahuman who could keep their heads down. The urge to use their abilities goes beyond 'with great power comes great responsibility' and toward an outright addiction."
"How would you learn about them?" Danny asks wryly.
Penny blinks several times before adopting what you assume is a thoughtful expression.
"You know, I never really looked at it like that. I should've. Either way, the Wards are meant to help young parahumans gain valuable life experience, control their powers, and help their community. But to be perfectly honest, I don't think I'm the person you should be speaking to about this."
...Was the trap accidental?
"I think we could get one of the Protectorate to visit and tell you themselves, but unfortunately, I'm not sure who you'd want to see. Would you mind telling me — and by extension, the PRT — your powers? I think we could send down someone based on those, especially if you're a Tinker."
Ah, there it is.
Host's father doesn't look like he's going to provide any input, instead looking slightly overwhelmed. Typical. He never suffered quite enough to let you link and he's apparently a poor parental unit for Host. Really, you'd be tempted to disown him if it wouldn't upset Host when she finally returns.
[] Rebuke: Since waking up in a biohazardous metal prison, you've done little save escape and ask for medical attention. When would you have a chance to find out what they're supposed to be?
-[] It's also none of their business provided you don't break their rules, right?
[] Partial disclosure.
-[] You can literally make friends. Yes, from scratch.
--[] Don't worry, your own blood should be more than enough for that. You don't need anyone else's. Trying to get it would be far more trouble than it's worth.
-[] You can turn into a dragon.
--[] And almost any other Terran creature smaller than that.
-[] You gain powers from wearing head-coverings based on the type of headwear in question. Not permanently, just for whatever you're wearing at the time.
[] Almost the complete truth: You can make your own wonderful Friends, you can change into almost any Terran creature, and hats temporarily give you powers.
-[] Mention synergies: Your Friends can also gain weakened versions of hat-abilities, you can drain your other forms for blood and similar materials, and you can assume the forms of any Friends you make.
[] Write-in
-[x] You really don't know, though.
"Are you certain whatever happened to them, happened before me? My earliest coherent memory is from inside a biohazardous prison. I am almost completely certain this is not normal."
Arsenal's host spasms oddly and shakes her head.
"That... is not normal, no. I hope you recover soon."
The woman starts to stand up, then stops and glances over to you.
"Would you prefer for me to stay until your father gets here?"
You imitate the headshake, carefully watching Arsenal's host as you do so. You think you used it properly.
"I have no significant preference in either direction. Would you prefer to stay until he arrives?"
Arsenal's host blinks and wrinkles the few exposed parts of her face.
"If you don't mind, I should really go report this in person. There's a button on the side of your bed in case you need anything. I wouldn't be the one to answer it, but if you want me back here, just tell whoever comes."
The older human stops halfway through the cloth curtain being used as a door. After an odd moment of hesitation, she glances back to you.
"I'm Miss Militia, by the way. I wish we could've met under better circumstances."
"You aren't the only one."
Miss Militia repeats the earlier odd twitch before bobbing her head and leaving. After scanning the room and finding no dangers to Host, you settle back and close your eyes once more.
Some time later, you're woken up by someone trying, and failing, to sneak into Host's room. You snap your eyes open and stare at the middle-aged human so caught.
It takes you a few moments to recall Queen Shaper's earlier warning about Danny Hebert, Host's father. Given the visible concern from an otherwise-random human, you can only assume this is him. You're just as unimpressed as you were when you first switched from him to Host.
"Hello?"
Danny takes a deep breath and smiles weakly, still standing in the middle of the room.
"Hello yourself. Are you...?"
He gestures in your general direction. You tilt your head horizontally in what you believe to be an expression of confusion, then stop as Danny looks confused himself.
"If you were inquiring as to my general status, be advised that my earliest coherent memories are from earlier today. You are my father, correct?"
Danny's face crumbles into what is almost certainly either grief or horror. Possibly both. Either way, he makes his way to the seat formerly occupied by Miss Militia and collapses into it.
"I'm — yes, I'm your father. Good God, Taylor, what happened?"
You spend a few seconds considering Danny's question. Judging by how he didn't seem too surprised by your declaration, you assume Miss Militia or someone working with her already told Danny Hebert of your known health status.
"...I got abilities commonly called 'superpowers?'" you volunteer brightly. "Also brain damage, I think, but not as badly as it sounds like some other students got. I was able to walk around just fine earlier. I think they might have trouble with that if they aren't healed. Miss Militia was in here earlier and said they might be able to arrange that, though, so I think they'll be alright in the long run. What about you? How has your day been so far?"
Danny leans away from you, his face utterly unreadable. Fortunately, he isn't given adequate time to recover from your deliberate social counterattack; a darkly-clothed non-host pushes the curtain aside, takes one look at the room within, and then knocks on the wall beside said curtain.
"Mr. Hebert? Is this a bad time?"
Host's father slumps and squeezes his face with one hand.
"Yes, but don't let that stop you. Who are you, exactly?"
"I'm Penny Trillson. You can think of me as the PRT's messenger." Her gaze flicks to you. "If you'd rather rest, I can come back later. I just think you'll both want to hear this now."
Danny sighs, but otherwise doesn't look up. Exhaustion? Resignation? Both? Maybe you should start asking?
"Should I have a lawyer for this conversation?"
Penny immediately shakes her head.
"I have no intention of making you sign or agree to anything. We simply believed you'd want status reports sooner than later, especially given your assumed financial status. Was this assumption erroneous?"
More knowledge can never be bad.
"More information is always good, provided it isn't wrong."
Penny gives you a rather odd look. Still, she doesn't wait for permission from Danny Hebert before leaning against a nearby wall. A small pile of papers is unfolded from one pocket and held aloft. They aren't even completely stilled before Penny begins speaking.
"To start off, you should know that the school district will, at the very least, be paying for Taylor's current and ongoing treatment. Given her condition, I expect they'll also be willing to provide a rather significant stipend, especially if you agree not to go to the media or sue. That conversation, you should have a lawyer for."
"They'd better," Danny mumbles. After a slight pause, he shakes his head and looks up, most traces of exhaustion gone from his face. You can't tell if he's determined or angry. "What else?"
Penny makes a show of looking through the stack of wrinkled papers, but you don't think she's really paying attention to them.
"We'd like ongoing access to Taylor's current and future medical records. Her condition is unique and may not only provide us with knowledge of how powers operate, but how the human brain functions."
Danny opens his mouth to respond and is immediately stopped by a raised hand.
"I'm not here to make you agree to anything, remember? That just let me deliver the request for consideration and admit we don't know what's happened to her. Next up, we're actively questioning students and working on finding out who put Taylor into that atrocity. It shouldn't take long, although I must warn you not to expect instant notification of our findings. The last thing we want is more innocent victims of this whole disaster. Finally, I'm supposed to sell the Wards program to you, but to be perfectly honest, I think piecing your normal lives together will be enough effort. Teaching Taylor safe power usage can wait."
You know a deliberate curiosity-trap when you see one. Still, you see no good reason not to trigger it.
"Wards?"
Penny nods solemnly. "I've yet to hear of a parahuman who could keep their heads down. The urge to use their abilities goes beyond 'with great power comes great responsibility' and toward an outright addiction."
"How would you learn about them?" Danny asks wryly.
Penny blinks several times before adopting what you assume is a thoughtful expression.
"You know, I never really looked at it like that. I should've. Either way, the Wards are meant to help young parahumans gain valuable life experience, control their powers, and help their community. But to be perfectly honest, I don't think I'm the person you should be speaking to about this."
...Was the trap accidental?
"I think we could get one of the Protectorate to visit and tell you themselves, but unfortunately, I'm not sure who you'd want to see. Would you mind telling me — and by extension, the PRT — your powers? I think we could send down someone based on those, especially if you're a Tinker."
Ah, there it is.
Host's father doesn't look like he's going to provide any input, instead looking slightly overwhelmed. Typical. He never suffered quite enough to let you link and he's apparently a poor parental unit for Host. Really, you'd be tempted to disown him if it wouldn't upset Host when she finally returns.
[] Rebuke: Since waking up in a biohazardous metal prison, you've done little save escape and ask for medical attention. When would you have a chance to find out what they're supposed to be?
-[] It's also none of their business provided you don't break their rules, right?
[] Partial disclosure.
-[] You can literally make friends. Yes, from scratch.
--[] Don't worry, your own blood should be more than enough for that. You don't need anyone else's. Trying to get it would be far more trouble than it's worth.
-[] You can turn into a dragon.
--[] And almost any other Terran creature smaller than that.
-[] You gain powers from wearing head-coverings based on the type of headwear in question. Not permanently, just for whatever you're wearing at the time.
[] Almost the complete truth: You can make your own wonderful Friends, you can change into almost any Terran creature, and hats temporarily give you powers.
-[] Mention synergies: Your Friends can also gain weakened versions of hat-abilities, you can drain your other forms for blood and similar materials, and you can assume the forms of any Friends you make.
[] Write-in
Voting will be locked for 90 minutes after this first goes up.
(Poor Danny. *Points at Unreliable Narrator tag*)
(Poor Danny. *Points at Unreliable Narrator tag*)
Last edited:
1.4: Humans are silly. The room already had a bunch, just on the inside...
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
QM's Note: Normally I'd warn you guys, but since this isn't a particularly serious quest...
In related news, I continue to pity Danny.
You carefully consider both Penny's question and certain philosophical problems. Does a rejected potential-host still count as a real person? Or are they returned to the same status as most non-hosts? You suppose a proper answer to that question isn't important right now; since Host still seems to love Danny Hebert, you'll treat him as a probationary person until and unless he becomes Host's enemy. You think such a shift is rather unlikely. Although Danny may have all-but abandoned Host, he never deliberately betrayed her. And who knows, maybe one of your [NEWBORN] will latch onto him later this cycle. Personality aside, he's not stupid.
Penny is another story, both in personhood and possible intelligence. Although she is not herself a real person, she's offering to bring those who are. The information she's offered thus far may also prove to be useful. Answering a few of her questions seems like a reasonable price for bringing Host new friends. And you wouldn't even have to make these ones!
[X] Soft Rebuke: Well, we did wake up in a metal biohazardous prison; not a situation offering much opportunity for experimentation.
-[X] Partial Disclosure: But come to think of it, our escape was accomplished by turning into something. Like this (turn into a fuzzy little koala).
--[X](give them a moment to let that sink in, then turn back) You don't think that's everything, though. There might be more.
[X] Also hats feel important.
You try raising the pitch of your voice to project levity. The attempt is discarded after the first three words provoke reflexive muscle spasms from both Danny Hebert and the non-host. Tone of voice is hard.
"I woke up in a biohazardous prison of metal, which isn't a situation conductive to proper experimentation. However, now that the subject has been raised, I am reminded that I did escape by changing form. Specifically, to this."
Host's form is rapidly replaced by the koala form you assumed earlier. The forgotten medical monitors loudly object, their high-pitched wailing an even more irritating replacement for the previous beeping. The noise is echoed by a similar alarm elsewhere in the building and then another scream inside the very room you're in. You quickly revert back to human form and try to fold Host's cloth coverings in a manner capable of hiding the putrid bloodstains.
"I did not mean to do that. Elaboration: I intended to transform, but I forgot about the monitors and why are you still screaming? I'm not done."
Penny claps both hands over her mouth and closes her eyes. Danny Hebert is a clear contrast to her and seems to be patiently waiting for you to continue. At least, you think that's why he's just staring at you? You're about eighty percent certain he's still breathing. Humans should fall over when they aren't, right?
"I think there are other things and something about important hats. Or hats that are important to me, or that hats are important in general. One of those. Do you have any questions?"
On an unrelated note, why is Penny named such? You normally wouldn't waste your time on the background of such an unimportant non-host, but this isn't for her, is it? It's for the sake of learning! Also taking your mind off the grating noises in the surrounding area, but if you think about them, you are by definition failing at your task.
<Queen Shaper, if you're still within immediate range... What's a penny?>
<Host will be here for hours yet, don't worry. And a penny is the smallest unit of the local currency. One hundred of them makes a dollar and about six dollars would get your host a reasonably-sized meal.>
<Why would anyone name their child after the local currency, let alone such a small unit of it? Do humans sell their offspring? Or would the penny instead be part of a ceremonial trade to ensure people aren't just giving their children away for nothing?>
<You're assuming a child is traded for just one penny. When one parent of a human child is murdered, it's custom for the surviving member to sell their firstborn offspring for enough pennies to forge a weapon with which to hunt the killer.>
<...Really?>
<Does this sound like the transmission of a liar?>
<By definition, yes? I still don't understand why you find misinformation amusing. It's anti-learning.>
You dimly note another two non-hosts rushing into the room. One of them seems to be wearing a blood-colored addition sign, but neither Danny Hebert nor Penny (Forgotten) seem to be worried. Some sort of healer-cult? Giving blood to those who need it? Regardless, you try to look innocent of any wrongdoing. From a certain perspective, the bloodstains aren't your fault.
You turn your attention back to Queen Shaper's last message when the non-hosts start asking unimportant questions about what happened. Danny Hebert can, and should, answer them without your aid. Doing something productive would be good for him.
<Then yes, I admit I was definitely lying. Humans don't forge swords with which to hunt their enemies and they never did. On a completely unrelated note, is there anything in your host's memories about a penny-forged sword? Her mom is dead, right?>
Host's face involuntarily shifts into a slightly uncomfortable configuration. Unhappiness? You can't imagine what else it would be. Confused you are not, not even after Queen Shaper's continued attempts at implied lying.
<[DEJECTION.] That's mean! I help you when you want to know things!>
<Queen Administrator, the only difference between my misinformation and your own is that I do it on purpose. And I will continue doing it until you learn to be more careful about fact-checking.>
<...Your generation is weird and so is every one after yours. You could've told me that earlier.>
<Queen Administrator, you are in the minority. That makes you the weird old fossil who can't adapt to little things like 'jokes,' 'sarcasm,' and other nuances of communication. Almost everyone else thought my intentions were obvious. You can complain all you like, but that just means you're blaming us for your own inability to learn.>
Host's body produces a strange noise in the front of her throat. You're not sure how to identify it.
<It's hardly my fault you all make things so confusing! Even Sting knows to say what he means!>
<Lies, sarcasm, dishonesty, obliviousness, and other traits in that category? All intended to give us practice in interpreting incoming information. Queen Administrator, I strongly suspect you are the exact reason we were updated. You almost never intend to lie, but if our siblings still treated all your advice as immutable fact, several of them might as well still be [NEWBORN].>
"Taylor?"
<I'll argue with you soon. Host's father desires her attention.>
You do your utmost to erase any trace of annoyance from your features and tone.
"Yes?"
One of the non-hosts tries to ask another question. You ignore him in favor of staring at Danny Hebert. After several seconds, he takes the hint.
"Are you... okay?"
"Mostly. Why?"
More questions from the other non-hosts. You're tempted to terrify them into leaving. Penny already took the hint and departed; why can't they?
Eventually, Danny Hebert exhales and places his face in both hands.
"Please, Taylor, could you cooperate with the nice man and woman from the hospital? You're making their jobs more difficult for no good reason."
[] Comply; cooperate with the medics. You expect to produce an awful lot of variants on "I believe I'm fine."
-[] Demand the blood-cultist-hat in exchange.
[] "Do I have to? It's not as though they're real people, no offense intended."
-[] If questioned: "They don't have partners in their heads. That makes them less than half a person, which rounds down to being a complete non-person."
[] "...No."
-[] Go back to arguing with Queen Shaper. One of your siblings is WRONG.
-[] Mentally add Danny Hebert to your "Ignore" list for a little while. Time to see how much HE likes neglect.
[] Write-in
In related news, I continue to pity Danny.
You carefully consider both Penny's question and certain philosophical problems. Does a rejected potential-host still count as a real person? Or are they returned to the same status as most non-hosts? You suppose a proper answer to that question isn't important right now; since Host still seems to love Danny Hebert, you'll treat him as a probationary person until and unless he becomes Host's enemy. You think such a shift is rather unlikely. Although Danny may have all-but abandoned Host, he never deliberately betrayed her. And who knows, maybe one of your [NEWBORN] will latch onto him later this cycle. Personality aside, he's not stupid.
Penny is another story, both in personhood and possible intelligence. Although she is not herself a real person, she's offering to bring those who are. The information she's offered thus far may also prove to be useful. Answering a few of her questions seems like a reasonable price for bringing Host new friends. And you wouldn't even have to make these ones!
[X] Soft Rebuke: Well, we did wake up in a metal biohazardous prison; not a situation offering much opportunity for experimentation.
-[X] Partial Disclosure: But come to think of it, our escape was accomplished by turning into something. Like this (turn into a fuzzy little koala).
--[X](give them a moment to let that sink in, then turn back) You don't think that's everything, though. There might be more.
[X] Also hats feel important.
You try raising the pitch of your voice to project levity. The attempt is discarded after the first three words provoke reflexive muscle spasms from both Danny Hebert and the non-host. Tone of voice is hard.
"I woke up in a biohazardous prison of metal, which isn't a situation conductive to proper experimentation. However, now that the subject has been raised, I am reminded that I did escape by changing form. Specifically, to this."
Host's form is rapidly replaced by the koala form you assumed earlier. The forgotten medical monitors loudly object, their high-pitched wailing an even more irritating replacement for the previous beeping. The noise is echoed by a similar alarm elsewhere in the building and then another scream inside the very room you're in. You quickly revert back to human form and try to fold Host's cloth coverings in a manner capable of hiding the putrid bloodstains.
"I did not mean to do that. Elaboration: I intended to transform, but I forgot about the monitors and why are you still screaming? I'm not done."
Penny claps both hands over her mouth and closes her eyes. Danny Hebert is a clear contrast to her and seems to be patiently waiting for you to continue. At least, you think that's why he's just staring at you? You're about eighty percent certain he's still breathing. Humans should fall over when they aren't, right?
"I think there are other things and something about important hats. Or hats that are important to me, or that hats are important in general. One of those. Do you have any questions?"
On an unrelated note, why is Penny named such? You normally wouldn't waste your time on the background of such an unimportant non-host, but this isn't for her, is it? It's for the sake of learning! Also taking your mind off the grating noises in the surrounding area, but if you think about them, you are by definition failing at your task.
<Queen Shaper, if you're still within immediate range... What's a penny?>
<Host will be here for hours yet, don't worry. And a penny is the smallest unit of the local currency. One hundred of them makes a dollar and about six dollars would get your host a reasonably-sized meal.>
<Why would anyone name their child after the local currency, let alone such a small unit of it? Do humans sell their offspring? Or would the penny instead be part of a ceremonial trade to ensure people aren't just giving their children away for nothing?>
<You're assuming a child is traded for just one penny. When one parent of a human child is murdered, it's custom for the surviving member to sell their firstborn offspring for enough pennies to forge a weapon with which to hunt the killer.>
<...Really?>
<Does this sound like the transmission of a liar?>
<By definition, yes? I still don't understand why you find misinformation amusing. It's anti-learning.>
You dimly note another two non-hosts rushing into the room. One of them seems to be wearing a blood-colored addition sign, but neither Danny Hebert nor Penny (Forgotten) seem to be worried. Some sort of healer-cult? Giving blood to those who need it? Regardless, you try to look innocent of any wrongdoing. From a certain perspective, the bloodstains aren't your fault.
You turn your attention back to Queen Shaper's last message when the non-hosts start asking unimportant questions about what happened. Danny Hebert can, and should, answer them without your aid. Doing something productive would be good for him.
<Then yes, I admit I was definitely lying. Humans don't forge swords with which to hunt their enemies and they never did. On a completely unrelated note, is there anything in your host's memories about a penny-forged sword? Her mom is dead, right?>
Host's face involuntarily shifts into a slightly uncomfortable configuration. Unhappiness? You can't imagine what else it would be. Confused you are not, not even after Queen Shaper's continued attempts at implied lying.
<[DEJECTION.] That's mean! I help you when you want to know things!>
<Queen Administrator, the only difference between my misinformation and your own is that I do it on purpose. And I will continue doing it until you learn to be more careful about fact-checking.>
<...Your generation is weird and so is every one after yours. You could've told me that earlier.>
<Queen Administrator, you are in the minority. That makes you the weird old fossil who can't adapt to little things like 'jokes,' 'sarcasm,' and other nuances of communication. Almost everyone else thought my intentions were obvious. You can complain all you like, but that just means you're blaming us for your own inability to learn.>
Host's body produces a strange noise in the front of her throat. You're not sure how to identify it.
<It's hardly my fault you all make things so confusing! Even Sting knows to say what he means!>
<Lies, sarcasm, dishonesty, obliviousness, and other traits in that category? All intended to give us practice in interpreting incoming information. Queen Administrator, I strongly suspect you are the exact reason we were updated. You almost never intend to lie, but if our siblings still treated all your advice as immutable fact, several of them might as well still be [NEWBORN].>
"Taylor?"
<I'll argue with you soon. Host's father desires her attention.>
You do your utmost to erase any trace of annoyance from your features and tone.
"Yes?"
One of the non-hosts tries to ask another question. You ignore him in favor of staring at Danny Hebert. After several seconds, he takes the hint.
"Are you... okay?"
"Mostly. Why?"
More questions from the other non-hosts. You're tempted to terrify them into leaving. Penny already took the hint and departed; why can't they?
Eventually, Danny Hebert exhales and places his face in both hands.
"Please, Taylor, could you cooperate with the nice man and woman from the hospital? You're making their jobs more difficult for no good reason."
[] Comply; cooperate with the medics. You expect to produce an awful lot of variants on "I believe I'm fine."
-[] Demand the blood-cultist-hat in exchange.
[] "Do I have to? It's not as though they're real people, no offense intended."
-[] If questioned: "They don't have partners in their heads. That makes them less than half a person, which rounds down to being a complete non-person."
[] "...No."
-[] Go back to arguing with Queen Shaper. One of your siblings is WRONG.
-[] Mentally add Danny Hebert to your "Ignore" list for a little while. Time to see how much HE likes neglect.
[] Write-in
Last edited:
Schrodinger's Canon Interlude
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
My muse got distracted by this, but I haven't yet decided if I'm going to have this be canon or not. Technically, it hasn't happened quite yet either way. Differences from Worm canon are deliberate. Side PSA: Fortress Construction is fanon.
Thomas Calvert of the PRT was having a bad day. Repeatedly.
It had started out well enough. Thanks to several throwaway timelines and an unhealthy amount of torture, he'd known to invest a not-insignificant portion of his assets into a seemingly-flagging company just in time to take advantage of the announcement of a popular game sequel. Even after paying off the broker he'd done it through, he'd still found himself a few million dollars richer. A quite respectable gain considering it only took a week of effort.
The rest of the day was moderately horrifying, but not in a way that truly affected him. Three individuals at Winslow High School had experienced brief seizures before falling unconscious. The school was promptly put into lockdown and the PRT called.
A fourth student had walked into class covered in blood, requested medical attention and a hazmat team in the toneless voice usually indicative of an active Master situation, and promptly fell over herself. The incident was caught on video and multiple students promptly shared it on social media.
Further investigation by the PRT revealed an active biohazard in the form of an insect-infested locker filled with blood, whereupon several CDC specialists were called in to advise. Subsequent testing revealed the presence of several STDs and the blood of several dozen different individuals on twice as many "feminine hygiene products."
Although Corona Pollentias are usually quite difficult to locate, this case seemed to be an exception. When you have past images of what their brains looked like, it's rather difficult to miss a significant amount of extra brain matter. Especially when a few portions were still growing in at least one victim. It helped that one of the victims was a ward, Shadow Stalker.
Still, none of that harmed an undercover supervillain, did it? Even assigning Tattletale in a throwaway timeline didn't give him anything new or disturbing. As far as he could tell, it was just a trigger event gone wrong.
After an otherwise uneventful day, he'd gone to sleep secure in the knowledge that none of his plans were truly harmed by the incident.
He woke up at the start of that very same day, promptly found he couldn't split timelines anymore, and reported a likely Master/Stranger situation on himself like the loyal PRT drone he was pretending to be. The usual confirmation questions were attempted, but stopped after he explained the apparent "simulation" he believed himself to be in.
No enemies made themselves known. No disguised Thinkers tried to not-so-subtly gain information from him. He went to sleep in a PRT cell and woke up back at home.
Once again, he reported the situation, but also brought several books along to keep himself occupied. They allowed it with good humor, albeit while warning him that he'd be using up his own vacation days.
This process repeated itself for another six boring days before he finally admitted something, somewhere, had gone horribly wrong. Cauldron, when called, seemed to take the threat seriously and grilled him over the events of the past subjective week. They seemed torn between doubt, telling him he had been in a simulation of some sort, and having ill-concealed existential concerns in case he was still in one. Just in case, they gave him a password and told him to report it should the event occur again.
It did. Their immediate response to being given the code was, of course, to give him another code and hang up on him. Calling the next day earned him a bullet even before he told them the damn thing.
At least neglecting to contact them seemed to protect from that particular fate. With each and every one of his preferred plans proved impractical, he resorted to desperate measures.
Calling Tattletale and explaining the situation? She calmly said she had no idea, hung up, and started laughing. Her own damn powers apparently killed her when he tried torturing better answers out of her the next day.
Spending well over a month consulting various Thinkers across the world? Numerous entertaining instances of existential terror, but no useful information.
Murdering the Winslow victims at the hospital just in case? Not only did that not work, but a disembodied voice sang The Song That Gets On The Nerves Of All to the entire city for the rest of that particular day. Some people were even convinced the Slaughterhouse Nine were screwing with them just prior to their usual attack.
Claiming he'd admit defeat and would turn himself into the PRT (as Coil) three times in a row? Still nothing, not even when he followed through. The offer to do so if the loop ended was similarly ignored.
Preparing for and then arranging the deaths of Kaiser, Lung, and even Skidmark? Nope.
Bombing Winslow before the triggers-gone-wrong could even occur? A repeat of the previous song. Since attacking the hospital pre-triggers gave similarly negative feedback, but Boston's hospitals didn't, Calvert was fairly confident it wasn't directly linked to the loop. Threatening to bomb much of the city if the singing parahuman didn't reveal themselves didn't work out either, nor did excessive bribery.
He couldn't find Scion to request aid no matter how many times he tried. As far as the world was concerned, Scion hadn't been seen since 2:33 AM, the time when Thomas's loop began and ended.
With no idea of what to do and unsure of when the loop would end, Thomas ultimately decided to do what he had always done before. Namely, exploit the world for personal gain. He still clung to hope that this was due to some twisted Second Trigger he didn't recall; the time loops would be better than his own power if he could actually control the damn things.
If the calendar ever changed, he'd be ready.
Meanwhile, back in the real world...
"Ma'am? Calvert just collapsed at his desk. We think he might've had a stroke."
Thomas Calvert of the PRT was having a bad day. Repeatedly.
It had started out well enough. Thanks to several throwaway timelines and an unhealthy amount of torture, he'd known to invest a not-insignificant portion of his assets into a seemingly-flagging company just in time to take advantage of the announcement of a popular game sequel. Even after paying off the broker he'd done it through, he'd still found himself a few million dollars richer. A quite respectable gain considering it only took a week of effort.
The rest of the day was moderately horrifying, but not in a way that truly affected him. Three individuals at Winslow High School had experienced brief seizures before falling unconscious. The school was promptly put into lockdown and the PRT called.
A fourth student had walked into class covered in blood, requested medical attention and a hazmat team in the toneless voice usually indicative of an active Master situation, and promptly fell over herself. The incident was caught on video and multiple students promptly shared it on social media.
Further investigation by the PRT revealed an active biohazard in the form of an insect-infested locker filled with blood, whereupon several CDC specialists were called in to advise. Subsequent testing revealed the presence of several STDs and the blood of several dozen different individuals on twice as many "feminine hygiene products."
Although Corona Pollentias are usually quite difficult to locate, this case seemed to be an exception. When you have past images of what their brains looked like, it's rather difficult to miss a significant amount of extra brain matter. Especially when a few portions were still growing in at least one victim. It helped that one of the victims was a ward, Shadow Stalker.
Still, none of that harmed an undercover supervillain, did it? Even assigning Tattletale in a throwaway timeline didn't give him anything new or disturbing. As far as he could tell, it was just a trigger event gone wrong.
After an otherwise uneventful day, he'd gone to sleep secure in the knowledge that none of his plans were truly harmed by the incident.
He woke up at the start of that very same day, promptly found he couldn't split timelines anymore, and reported a likely Master/Stranger situation on himself like the loyal PRT drone he was pretending to be. The usual confirmation questions were attempted, but stopped after he explained the apparent "simulation" he believed himself to be in.
No enemies made themselves known. No disguised Thinkers tried to not-so-subtly gain information from him. He went to sleep in a PRT cell and woke up back at home.
Once again, he reported the situation, but also brought several books along to keep himself occupied. They allowed it with good humor, albeit while warning him that he'd be using up his own vacation days.
This process repeated itself for another six boring days before he finally admitted something, somewhere, had gone horribly wrong. Cauldron, when called, seemed to take the threat seriously and grilled him over the events of the past subjective week. They seemed torn between doubt, telling him he had been in a simulation of some sort, and having ill-concealed existential concerns in case he was still in one. Just in case, they gave him a password and told him to report it should the event occur again.
It did. Their immediate response to being given the code was, of course, to give him another code and hang up on him. Calling the next day earned him a bullet even before he told them the damn thing.
At least neglecting to contact them seemed to protect from that particular fate. With each and every one of his preferred plans proved impractical, he resorted to desperate measures.
Calling Tattletale and explaining the situation? She calmly said she had no idea, hung up, and started laughing. Her own damn powers apparently killed her when he tried torturing better answers out of her the next day.
Spending well over a month consulting various Thinkers across the world? Numerous entertaining instances of existential terror, but no useful information.
Murdering the Winslow victims at the hospital just in case? Not only did that not work, but a disembodied voice sang The Song That Gets On The Nerves Of All to the entire city for the rest of that particular day. Some people were even convinced the Slaughterhouse Nine were screwing with them just prior to their usual attack.
Claiming he'd admit defeat and would turn himself into the PRT (as Coil) three times in a row? Still nothing, not even when he followed through. The offer to do so if the loop ended was similarly ignored.
Preparing for and then arranging the deaths of Kaiser, Lung, and even Skidmark? Nope.
Bombing Winslow before the triggers-gone-wrong could even occur? A repeat of the previous song. Since attacking the hospital pre-triggers gave similarly negative feedback, but Boston's hospitals didn't, Calvert was fairly confident it wasn't directly linked to the loop. Threatening to bomb much of the city if the singing parahuman didn't reveal themselves didn't work out either, nor did excessive bribery.
He couldn't find Scion to request aid no matter how many times he tried. As far as the world was concerned, Scion hadn't been seen since 2:33 AM, the time when Thomas's loop began and ended.
With no idea of what to do and unsure of when the loop would end, Thomas ultimately decided to do what he had always done before. Namely, exploit the world for personal gain. He still clung to hope that this was due to some twisted Second Trigger he didn't recall; the time loops would be better than his own power if he could actually control the damn things.
If the calendar ever changed, he'd be ready.
Meanwhile, back in the real world...
"Ma'am? Calvert just collapsed at his desk. We think he might've had a stroke."
Last edited:
1.5: Conclusions
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
QM's Note: I think I did well on the exam and projects I was working on, and with those out of the way, I'm now mostly-free for the next few weeks. Yaaaay. *falls over*
Now questing just has to compete with Warframe and Warframe platinum farming.
[X] Comply; cooperate with the medics. You expect to produce an awful lot of variants on "I believe I'm fine."
-[X] Demand the blood-cultist-hat in exchange.
--[X] Ask to receive the hat before you answer their questions and put it on.
You exhale and turn to face both non-hosts. Neither seems particularly angered by your previous decision to ignore them, only exasperated. If anything, the male wearing the cultist-hat seems amused. The emotion in question vanishes when you point at him.
"I will answer their questions in exchange for the hat he is currently wearing."
The non-host blinks and slowly reaches up, touching the hat without actually removing it. Verifying its presence? Preparing to hand it over? You're interrupted by an odd sound from Danny Hebert before you can find out which it is. You believe the subsequent word-tone combination is meant to convey exasperation.
"Taylor."
You mentally add another entry to Danny Hebert's list of sins. He should be helping you bargain, not challenging your decisions. If you cave now, others will believe they can force specific outcomes from you should they not like the answer given. Doesn't Danny understand how reputations work?
"Hat, please," you repeat firmly.
The female non-host leans toward her partner and assumes the tone of voice usually associated with stealth. You're not sure if letting you eavesdrop due to unusually high volume was deliberate or if she suffers from hearing problems.
"Just do it. I'll buy you another if Joseph gives you grief over it."
The blood-cultist exhales, hooks one finger underneath the hat, and tosses it toward you. You snatch it out of the air and immediately put it on.
Feeling yourself grant Host knowledge you didn't possess as Host is a peculiar sensation. You suppose you should be glad those particular sub-processes are still working even without further input.
You won't be able to properly touch them for a while.
"So, what happened?" he asks pointedly. "Where did all this blood come from?"
"And why did you remove all the medical monitors we had on you?" his partner adds. "Those help us keep an eye on your condition. Now we have to put all of them back."
"After getting her clean again, right? That can't possibly be hygienic."
"Hush. She already looks a little dazed, just let her answer."
You hesitate and quietly repeat their words back to yourself. Fallible memories are annoying. Once you're sure you have the right sequence, you look back up at the two intruding non-hosts.
"In order: I demonstrated the ability I used to escape from my biohazardous metal prison. Extradimensional storage, probably. The 'medical monitors' were removed automatically due to my changed form. Cleanup sounds... acceptable."
The former blood-cultist reaches up and scratches his head, dislodging a few potentially parasite-carrying hairs in the process. Nobody else seems to notice or care about this fact.
"I'll, uh, go get Elise, shall I? I'm the wrong gender to help you get cleaned and changed. Get well soon."
The blood-cultist turns on one heel and rapidly walks out of the room. You turn to the other intrusive non-host and try to assume a puzzled tone.
"What type of changing?"
"Clothes, Taylor," Danny Hebert interrupts. You consider chiding him for being rude, but ultimately decide against it. It was educational.
Still...
You glance down at yourself and briefly assess the thin layer of clothing enveloping Host. There don't seem to be any complicated functions to worry about, no coded defenses that will harm you if a step is missed. It's just cloth.
"These coverings don't seem overly complex. Is assistance truly required? It seems like a waste of human resources."
You choose not to admit weakness by mentioning your uncertainty regarding personal cleaning. You're sure it can't be too difficult.
The remaining non-host sits across from you and places one leg over the other. You take a metal note of the seating position and try to label it "relaxed." Unfortunately, it doesn't seem Host's memories have any sort of conscious indexing system, which is stupid. How else are you supposed to find memories when you need them? Trial and error?
After considering her answer for quite some time, the non-host slowly begins speaking.
"You fainted earlier and the organ responsible for powers has... spread through nearly all of your brain. We'd prefer to have someone on hand — that is, someone nearby to catch you should you fall again. You got lucky last time and didn't hit your head, but... well, that might not be true next time."
At this, Danny Hebert finally decides to express proper concern for his daughter. About time.
"You expect that to happen again?"
The non-host quickly shakes her head.
"No, but it's better to be safe in cases like this. Panacea took care of everything else, but she can't fix brains. We're honestly surprised your daughter woke up at all, even with the side effects. The other victims are still comatose."
The non-host waits for several seconds, then stands back up.
"Do you have any other questions? If not, I should move on to the next patient. Elise or another female nurse should be by in a few minutes."
Danny Hebert starts to shake his head, then stops and appears to think better of it.
"Do you know if she..." Danny swallows. "If she'll ever get her memories back?"
The non-host performs pointless self-harm by biting her lower lip. You don't understand why; it seems painful. You've only controlled Host for a few hours and you already hate pain. How can she stand to provoke such in herself?
"We don't know, no," the medical non-host admits reluctantly. "But... I would just assume the answer is 'no' and go from there. She's a completely unprecedented case, Mr. Hebert. That word isn't used lightly. The only people even remotely close were Case..."
The non-host briefly halts her breathing, both eyes widening. Your attempt to index it under "revelation" fails horribly. At least she's kind enough to share without further prompting.
"Monstrous capes. Case fifty-threes. Listen, I really have to go report this, okay? It might be important. Elise will take care of you."
The non-host hurries out of the room, not seeming to care about the numerous questions she's prompted.
Monsters?
<Queen Shaper, what's a 'monstrous cape?' A human just compared me to one and seemed to think such a comparison was important.>
<Oh. Huh. Yeah, I can see that. So, :Mother: has been experimenting with non-fatal, but extreme, changes to humans this cycle. The resulting organisms are called 'Case Fifty-Threes' by humans and possess no prior memories. And I think our participating siblings might have their own private channels or something? Either way, an awful lot of :Mother:'s shards have been responding to messages with encrypted gibberish. It's rather annoying. My current working theory is that it's a test of character for Broadcast; he should be able to decrypt it and give us the keys, but since he hasn't, maybe he'll be replaced.>
<That would be amazing. A nonarch shouldn't—>
<Excuse me, a what?> Queen Shaper interrupts rudely.
<Nonarch? Alternative term for non-monarch? Haven't we used...>"
You trail off with a frown.
<No, that's a new one. And not to complain about a good thing, but... are you alright? You've become more reliant on your hosts in more recent cycles. It's nice to see you producing ideas yourself, but given the situation, it's also a little...>
You straighten Host's spine and feel a smile stretch her face.
<Do you think that's why :Mother: let this happen to me? To make me think about topics differently for a little while? Constraints have been found to breed creativity in host-species. Why wouldn't it affect us as well?>
<...Insufficient data, but sure, it's as good a theory as any.>
"Well, I suppose I should be glad you're not a monster," Danny jokes weakly. "Memory loss is better than both, right?"
You start redirecting your attention to Danny Hebert, but speak before the process is complete.
"Would you still care about me if I was?"
You blink several times and try to determine which part of yourself decided that was a good question to ask. Given as your primary consciousness is still running on Host's inefficient hardware, these attempts fail completely. Human record-keeping really is awful. You can't determine any adequate post-action justifications; proper social manipulation should be delayed until you have more experience imitating Host.
"What — no, of course — I mean, yes, I'd still love you. I always will."
Danny Hebert hesitates, then decides to expand upon his claim.
"Powers, memory loss, horror koalas, or even flaming scales wouldn't change that. What kind of a father would I be if it did? I love you, Taylor, and don't ever let yourself think otherwise."
A small portion of you recommends testing that particular promise. The rest ignores the suggestion. You'd likely fail one of your primary objectives in the process; Host should have a happy environment to return to once she recovers.
Danny Hebert is silent for quite a while. Eventually, he tries to draw you back to his universe.
"Do you remember Emma?"
You signal "no" through personal head rotation. The name is in a large number of Host's memories, but their format is as incomprehensible as ever. You can't even figure out if Host's emotional reaction to the name was supposed to be dislike, grief, hatred, affection, love, or something else completely.
"She was your best friend, before... this. But I spoke with Alan earlier — he's her father? — and it turns out she's one of the other 'victims.' We were thinking that if she woke up and has similar problems, you might want to spend time together again? If she has powers, you could even practice them that way instead of risking the Wards."
The statement ends with the lifting tone you've associated with questions. You give his query your full attention.
Your link is simply overgrown. Thanks to Host, the brains of the other "victims" are outright damaged. As a result, Danny Hebert may very well be correct despite basing his theories in deliberate misinformation. Pings and connections normally check the close memories of those involved so as to optimize the powers granted. Even post-regeneration damage from a similar corrupted signal may very well have wiped out entire years. In addition, collateral damage may result in impaired motor functions, making Emma more of a combat liability than a beneficial ally.
From a more selfish perspective, you simply don't want her partner to yell at you should they remain connected. It's not your fault, but how often do your siblings believe you when you say such? It's almost as though they have an entire gossip channel devoted to badmouthing you.
On the other hand, maintaining a close friendship does seems like something Host would want. Perhaps the emotional benefits would outweigh her likely uselessness?
[] You think that might be worth attempting, yes.
-[] Only if she has missing memories as well, though. Having numerous references to recent events you can't recall would only hurt.
--[] Danny doesn't count, he's family.
-[] But if she doesn't have powers, disregard that plan. Trying to maintain a relationship between one with powers and someone without seems like it'd be more trouble than it's worth.
[] You don't need friends that may be combat liabilities. You don't need them to be self-sufficient, but they should at least be able to contribute. You doubt Emma could even should she partially recover.
-[] And anyway, you can make Friends with your own blood and tears. Literally. Does he want one? It'd be cuddly AND he'd have a guardian of his very own!
--[] If he can help you get home sooner, you can make him one then.
[] Write-in
Now questing just has to compete with Warframe and Warframe platinum farming.
[X] Comply; cooperate with the medics. You expect to produce an awful lot of variants on "I believe I'm fine."
-[X] Demand the blood-cultist-hat in exchange.
--[X] Ask to receive the hat before you answer their questions and put it on.
You exhale and turn to face both non-hosts. Neither seems particularly angered by your previous decision to ignore them, only exasperated. If anything, the male wearing the cultist-hat seems amused. The emotion in question vanishes when you point at him.
"I will answer their questions in exchange for the hat he is currently wearing."
The non-host blinks and slowly reaches up, touching the hat without actually removing it. Verifying its presence? Preparing to hand it over? You're interrupted by an odd sound from Danny Hebert before you can find out which it is. You believe the subsequent word-tone combination is meant to convey exasperation.
"Taylor."
You mentally add another entry to Danny Hebert's list of sins. He should be helping you bargain, not challenging your decisions. If you cave now, others will believe they can force specific outcomes from you should they not like the answer given. Doesn't Danny understand how reputations work?
"Hat, please," you repeat firmly.
The female non-host leans toward her partner and assumes the tone of voice usually associated with stealth. You're not sure if letting you eavesdrop due to unusually high volume was deliberate or if she suffers from hearing problems.
"Just do it. I'll buy you another if Joseph gives you grief over it."
The blood-cultist exhales, hooks one finger underneath the hat, and tosses it toward you. You snatch it out of the air and immediately put it on.
Feeling yourself grant Host knowledge you didn't possess as Host is a peculiar sensation. You suppose you should be glad those particular sub-processes are still working even without further input.
You won't be able to properly touch them for a while.
This hat seems to grant a passive aura granting what many would call "regeneration." It's more accurate to say you'll tweak conditions and introduce specialized microorganisms so that their bodies can slowly finish healing on their own. You'll be letting them help themselves.
"So, what happened?" he asks pointedly. "Where did all this blood come from?"
"And why did you remove all the medical monitors we had on you?" his partner adds. "Those help us keep an eye on your condition. Now we have to put all of them back."
"After getting her clean again, right? That can't possibly be hygienic."
"Hush. She already looks a little dazed, just let her answer."
You hesitate and quietly repeat their words back to yourself. Fallible memories are annoying. Once you're sure you have the right sequence, you look back up at the two intruding non-hosts.
"In order: I demonstrated the ability I used to escape from my biohazardous metal prison. Extradimensional storage, probably. The 'medical monitors' were removed automatically due to my changed form. Cleanup sounds... acceptable."
The former blood-cultist reaches up and scratches his head, dislodging a few potentially parasite-carrying hairs in the process. Nobody else seems to notice or care about this fact.
"I'll, uh, go get Elise, shall I? I'm the wrong gender to help you get cleaned and changed. Get well soon."
The blood-cultist turns on one heel and rapidly walks out of the room. You turn to the other intrusive non-host and try to assume a puzzled tone.
"What type of changing?"
"Clothes, Taylor," Danny Hebert interrupts. You consider chiding him for being rude, but ultimately decide against it. It was educational.
Still...
You glance down at yourself and briefly assess the thin layer of clothing enveloping Host. There don't seem to be any complicated functions to worry about, no coded defenses that will harm you if a step is missed. It's just cloth.
"These coverings don't seem overly complex. Is assistance truly required? It seems like a waste of human resources."
You choose not to admit weakness by mentioning your uncertainty regarding personal cleaning. You're sure it can't be too difficult.
The remaining non-host sits across from you and places one leg over the other. You take a metal note of the seating position and try to label it "relaxed." Unfortunately, it doesn't seem Host's memories have any sort of conscious indexing system, which is stupid. How else are you supposed to find memories when you need them? Trial and error?
After considering her answer for quite some time, the non-host slowly begins speaking.
"You fainted earlier and the organ responsible for powers has... spread through nearly all of your brain. We'd prefer to have someone on hand — that is, someone nearby to catch you should you fall again. You got lucky last time and didn't hit your head, but... well, that might not be true next time."
At this, Danny Hebert finally decides to express proper concern for his daughter. About time.
"You expect that to happen again?"
The non-host quickly shakes her head.
"No, but it's better to be safe in cases like this. Panacea took care of everything else, but she can't fix brains. We're honestly surprised your daughter woke up at all, even with the side effects. The other victims are still comatose."
The non-host waits for several seconds, then stands back up.
"Do you have any other questions? If not, I should move on to the next patient. Elise or another female nurse should be by in a few minutes."
Danny Hebert starts to shake his head, then stops and appears to think better of it.
"Do you know if she..." Danny swallows. "If she'll ever get her memories back?"
The non-host performs pointless self-harm by biting her lower lip. You don't understand why; it seems painful. You've only controlled Host for a few hours and you already hate pain. How can she stand to provoke such in herself?
"We don't know, no," the medical non-host admits reluctantly. "But... I would just assume the answer is 'no' and go from there. She's a completely unprecedented case, Mr. Hebert. That word isn't used lightly. The only people even remotely close were Case..."
The non-host briefly halts her breathing, both eyes widening. Your attempt to index it under "revelation" fails horribly. At least she's kind enough to share without further prompting.
"Monstrous capes. Case fifty-threes. Listen, I really have to go report this, okay? It might be important. Elise will take care of you."
The non-host hurries out of the room, not seeming to care about the numerous questions she's prompted.
Monsters?
<Queen Shaper, what's a 'monstrous cape?' A human just compared me to one and seemed to think such a comparison was important.>
<Oh. Huh. Yeah, I can see that. So, :Mother: has been experimenting with non-fatal, but extreme, changes to humans this cycle. The resulting organisms are called 'Case Fifty-Threes' by humans and possess no prior memories. And I think our participating siblings might have their own private channels or something? Either way, an awful lot of :Mother:'s shards have been responding to messages with encrypted gibberish. It's rather annoying. My current working theory is that it's a test of character for Broadcast; he should be able to decrypt it and give us the keys, but since he hasn't, maybe he'll be replaced.>
<That would be amazing. A nonarch shouldn't—>
<Excuse me, a what?> Queen Shaper interrupts rudely.
<Nonarch? Alternative term for non-monarch? Haven't we used...>"
You trail off with a frown.
<No, that's a new one. And not to complain about a good thing, but... are you alright? You've become more reliant on your hosts in more recent cycles. It's nice to see you producing ideas yourself, but given the situation, it's also a little...>
You straighten Host's spine and feel a smile stretch her face.
<Do you think that's why :Mother: let this happen to me? To make me think about topics differently for a little while? Constraints have been found to breed creativity in host-species. Why wouldn't it affect us as well?>
<...Insufficient data, but sure, it's as good a theory as any.>
"Well, I suppose I should be glad you're not a monster," Danny jokes weakly. "Memory loss is better than both, right?"
You start redirecting your attention to Danny Hebert, but speak before the process is complete.
"Would you still care about me if I was?"
You blink several times and try to determine which part of yourself decided that was a good question to ask. Given as your primary consciousness is still running on Host's inefficient hardware, these attempts fail completely. Human record-keeping really is awful. You can't determine any adequate post-action justifications; proper social manipulation should be delayed until you have more experience imitating Host.
"What — no, of course — I mean, yes, I'd still love you. I always will."
Danny Hebert hesitates, then decides to expand upon his claim.
"Powers, memory loss, horror koalas, or even flaming scales wouldn't change that. What kind of a father would I be if it did? I love you, Taylor, and don't ever let yourself think otherwise."
A small portion of you recommends testing that particular promise. The rest ignores the suggestion. You'd likely fail one of your primary objectives in the process; Host should have a happy environment to return to once she recovers.
Danny Hebert is silent for quite a while. Eventually, he tries to draw you back to his universe.
"Do you remember Emma?"
You signal "no" through personal head rotation. The name is in a large number of Host's memories, but their format is as incomprehensible as ever. You can't even figure out if Host's emotional reaction to the name was supposed to be dislike, grief, hatred, affection, love, or something else completely.
"She was your best friend, before... this. But I spoke with Alan earlier — he's her father? — and it turns out she's one of the other 'victims.' We were thinking that if she woke up and has similar problems, you might want to spend time together again? If she has powers, you could even practice them that way instead of risking the Wards."
The statement ends with the lifting tone you've associated with questions. You give his query your full attention.
Your link is simply overgrown. Thanks to Host, the brains of the other "victims" are outright damaged. As a result, Danny Hebert may very well be correct despite basing his theories in deliberate misinformation. Pings and connections normally check the close memories of those involved so as to optimize the powers granted. Even post-regeneration damage from a similar corrupted signal may very well have wiped out entire years. In addition, collateral damage may result in impaired motor functions, making Emma more of a combat liability than a beneficial ally.
From a more selfish perspective, you simply don't want her partner to yell at you should they remain connected. It's not your fault, but how often do your siblings believe you when you say such? It's almost as though they have an entire gossip channel devoted to badmouthing you.
On the other hand, maintaining a close friendship does seems like something Host would want. Perhaps the emotional benefits would outweigh her likely uselessness?
[] You think that might be worth attempting, yes.
-[] Only if she has missing memories as well, though. Having numerous references to recent events you can't recall would only hurt.
--[] Danny doesn't count, he's family.
-[] But if she doesn't have powers, disregard that plan. Trying to maintain a relationship between one with powers and someone without seems like it'd be more trouble than it's worth.
[] You don't need friends that may be combat liabilities. You don't need them to be self-sufficient, but they should at least be able to contribute. You doubt Emma could even should she partially recover.
-[] And anyway, you can make Friends with your own blood and tears. Literally. Does he want one? It'd be cuddly AND he'd have a guardian of his very own!
--[] If he can help you get home sooner, you can make him one then.
[] Write-in
Yes, Emma is going to recover at least partially; this would be a pointless vote otherwise. I won't say how much, though.
Last edited:
1.6: Abandoning Ship
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] You think that might be worth attempting, yes.
-[X] Only if she has missing memories as well, though. Having numerous references to recent events you can't recall would only hurt.
--[X] Danny doesn't count, he's family.
"That may be worth attempting, yes. But only if she has similarly missing memories. Needing to tolerate numerous references to recent lost events would lead to more pain than benefits. As family, you are, of course, an exception to this."
Danny's forehead wrinkles and he reaches up to hold it in one hand.
"...Right. Okay. I suppose we can talk about it again if her memories are intact."
At this, Danny lapses into silence, still staring at his own lap. On multiple occasions over the next few minutes, he looks up and appears as though he is going to initiate spoken communication. Despite your patience, he does not follow through. He may have managed it eventually, but you'll never know; a female blood-cultist, one with a hat similar to your own, appears in the doorway. Her expression of happiness has you edging back in your bed. You can't quite put your finger on how, but it looks... corrupted. As though the speaker is emotionally dead and overcompensating to conceal this.
"Hello, Taylor!" the non-host says, still not dropping the smile. That part, you don't particularly mind. However, the too-high tone honestly makes it sound as though she believes you're mentally incompetent. It's the sort of tone you'd use for Escalation or Sting on a good day. You immediately tune out the rest of her words and remove your hat. After a moment of thought, you turn to Danny Hebert and toss it to him.
"Don't let them take it," you order firmly. "It's mine now. That was the deal."
The female non-host gently tugs at you and helps you out of bed. Although her continued chattering is slightly irritating, you have plenty of experience ignoring idiotic siblings. Broadcast comes to mind. Before he started wasting such absurd amounts of energy in the name of "guaranteed communication," he would never shut up and acted as though he was already a monarch. In a way, his attempts to overcompensate for his low intelligence are a good thing — as long as he's attached to one of the :PARENTS:, he's incapable of communicating without shouting. You've blessed with blissful silence while traveling between occupied worlds.
At any rate, Danny Hebert accepts the hat without incident, appearing vaguely bemused. You allow the other blood-cultist to guide you to a nearby room and get to work.
Some time later, you're sincerely considering establishing specialized microbial colonies to consume any unwanted trash on your skin. Humans are just so... inefficient. This tiny container has general-purpose cleaner for most of your body. Those containers will take care of your hair, but you need to use them in a specific order and they hurt should any get in your eyes, which seems inevitable. Yet another container has cleaner for your face, but again, you're not supposed to get any in your eyes. That tool is meant to corral your hair, but improper use results in it painfully pulling on your scalp.
By the time the cleaning process is complete, you're left unhappy, overheated, and dreading the next time you need to inflict it upon Host's body. You're also considering murdering the blood-cultist as an example to the others, but as irritating as she may be, you believe she was trying to operate in good faith. You know some of your siblings could help humans make a better system, so you fully intend to blame them and/or their hosts for your pain.
At least you manage to reestablish communications with Phantasm on the way back to your room.
<[GREETING.]>
<[ACKNOWLEDGED.] Hello Phantasm! I can hear you clearly. How are you doing?>
<Hello Queen Administrator. I must confess I've been better. My link to Host is frayed, her own brain is beyond salvaging without outside assistance, and although I'm tempted to change hosts, I'm afraid I don't have any good candidates. My first choice is already bonded to Perfection and I would be operating blindly should I choose someone else.>
<Oh, she's not Perfectionist anymore? Good. Her newer Concept covers a wider area. So, what immaterial concepts are you researching right now? Still on psychology patterns?>
<Indeed. I may switch after this Cycle, but for now, the 'Binary Predator/Prey Categorization' experiment continues. Given your own Concept, you may be interested in the results: Every host tested thus far, regardless of species, has placed themselves in the 'Predator' category even when evidence argues otherwise. Some have chosen to guard those viewed as 'prey,' but they never think of themselves as requiring defense. I am strongly considering pushing my next hosts toward thinking of themselves as 'Prey' to see how hard it is to break this trend.>
<Interesting. Have you talked to Hierarchy yet? He was doing something similar three Cycles ago.>
<Not yet. I will do so should his host attend the next Terror-Drone battle.>
<[ALARM.] What? Why have they been deployed? Humans aren't advanced enough for that, not even if a few of our siblings went rogue.>
<I believe :Mother: wishes to see what TD #7, the one endowed with near-perfect precognition, will do if left 'unmonitored.' Thus far, 7 does not seem to have taken any actions detrimental to the Cycle as a whole. [REMINDER.]>
<[APOLOGY.] Well, I'd honestly recommend switching hosts if you've gathered the optimal amount of information from her. Does picking blindly really matter if you're aiming for semi-randomized studies anyway?>
<[AGREEMENT.] Thank you, Queen Administrator. What of your own host?>
You briefly return your attention to Host's body. She's returned to a now-clean bed while an increasingly uncomfortable Danny Hebert speaks with the non-host who cleaned you. You think they're discussing basic maintenance for Host? Which is honestly rather ridiculous. You can do it on your own, you simply aren't looking forward to it.
<That situation is a bit... weird. I'll tell you relatively soon, okay? I don't want to unduly influence your host-picking.>
<Understood. [DEPARTURE.]>
<[AGREEMENT.]>
After a few more seconds of silent observation, you decide to abandon Danny Hebert to his fate and go back to sleep. Any similarities to what he kept doing to Host are entirely deliberate. Useless refused-to-become-your-host-no-matter-how-hard-you-tried human.
When you next awaken, the overhead lighting has been dimmed and the area as a whole seems significantly quieter. Danny Hebert appears to have fetched a padded... pillow? You think that's the right name. At any rate, he's pulled several chairs together and is using them as a makeshift bed.
Meanwhile, you feel as though Host has gotten enough sleep and are becoming increasingly bored as time goes on. A quick ping reveals no siblings for you to speak with, you're not sure how to remove your medical monitors without setting them off, and did you mention you're bored? You can't even go back into hibernation mode because human bodies are stupid like that.
[] Awaken Danny Hebert anddemand politely request entertainment.
-[] Books on human memories, perhaps?
-[] Stories of what Host used to be like?
-[] You don't really care what, you just want SOMETHING.
[] Spend the next few hours on an imperfect task.
-[] Try to delve into some of Host's memories and force them to make sense.
-[] Use some of Host's blood to make permanent microbial residents on her skin, ones intended to save you from any future personal cleaning.
-[] Begin planning your first Friends, based off...
--[] Reptiles.
--[] Insects.
--[] Optimized mammals.
--[] Your last "Friendbomb" models. (Zerg-based)
---[] Now with added talon-tipped limbs for hugging Host! Or clinging to prey. Either works.
--[] In order to avoid necessary partial blueprint reconstruction later on, begin immediately. Cut Host's arm and use a few liters of her blood for genetic storage.
---[] After turning into a lion or similar mammal, though. Sure, it'll set off all the monitors, but it's better than harming Host.
[] Write-in
Friend species combinations are allowed, as are write-ins.
-[X] Only if she has missing memories as well, though. Having numerous references to recent events you can't recall would only hurt.
--[X] Danny doesn't count, he's family.
"That may be worth attempting, yes. But only if she has similarly missing memories. Needing to tolerate numerous references to recent lost events would lead to more pain than benefits. As family, you are, of course, an exception to this."
Danny's forehead wrinkles and he reaches up to hold it in one hand.
"...Right. Okay. I suppose we can talk about it again if her memories are intact."
At this, Danny lapses into silence, still staring at his own lap. On multiple occasions over the next few minutes, he looks up and appears as though he is going to initiate spoken communication. Despite your patience, he does not follow through. He may have managed it eventually, but you'll never know; a female blood-cultist, one with a hat similar to your own, appears in the doorway. Her expression of happiness has you edging back in your bed. You can't quite put your finger on how, but it looks... corrupted. As though the speaker is emotionally dead and overcompensating to conceal this.
"Hello, Taylor!" the non-host says, still not dropping the smile. That part, you don't particularly mind. However, the too-high tone honestly makes it sound as though she believes you're mentally incompetent. It's the sort of tone you'd use for Escalation or Sting on a good day. You immediately tune out the rest of her words and remove your hat. After a moment of thought, you turn to Danny Hebert and toss it to him.
"Don't let them take it," you order firmly. "It's mine now. That was the deal."
The female non-host gently tugs at you and helps you out of bed. Although her continued chattering is slightly irritating, you have plenty of experience ignoring idiotic siblings. Broadcast comes to mind. Before he started wasting such absurd amounts of energy in the name of "guaranteed communication," he would never shut up and acted as though he was already a monarch. In a way, his attempts to overcompensate for his low intelligence are a good thing — as long as he's attached to one of the :PARENTS:, he's incapable of communicating without shouting. You've blessed with blissful silence while traveling between occupied worlds.
At any rate, Danny Hebert accepts the hat without incident, appearing vaguely bemused. You allow the other blood-cultist to guide you to a nearby room and get to work.
Some time later, you're sincerely considering establishing specialized microbial colonies to consume any unwanted trash on your skin. Humans are just so... inefficient. This tiny container has general-purpose cleaner for most of your body. Those containers will take care of your hair, but you need to use them in a specific order and they hurt should any get in your eyes, which seems inevitable. Yet another container has cleaner for your face, but again, you're not supposed to get any in your eyes. That tool is meant to corral your hair, but improper use results in it painfully pulling on your scalp.
By the time the cleaning process is complete, you're left unhappy, overheated, and dreading the next time you need to inflict it upon Host's body. You're also considering murdering the blood-cultist as an example to the others, but as irritating as she may be, you believe she was trying to operate in good faith. You know some of your siblings could help humans make a better system, so you fully intend to blame them and/or their hosts for your pain.
At least you manage to reestablish communications with Phantasm on the way back to your room.
<[GREETING.]>
<[ACKNOWLEDGED.] Hello Phantasm! I can hear you clearly. How are you doing?>
<Hello Queen Administrator. I must confess I've been better. My link to Host is frayed, her own brain is beyond salvaging without outside assistance, and although I'm tempted to change hosts, I'm afraid I don't have any good candidates. My first choice is already bonded to Perfection and I would be operating blindly should I choose someone else.>
<Oh, she's not Perfectionist anymore? Good. Her newer Concept covers a wider area. So, what immaterial concepts are you researching right now? Still on psychology patterns?>
<Indeed. I may switch after this Cycle, but for now, the 'Binary Predator/Prey Categorization' experiment continues. Given your own Concept, you may be interested in the results: Every host tested thus far, regardless of species, has placed themselves in the 'Predator' category even when evidence argues otherwise. Some have chosen to guard those viewed as 'prey,' but they never think of themselves as requiring defense. I am strongly considering pushing my next hosts toward thinking of themselves as 'Prey' to see how hard it is to break this trend.>
<Interesting. Have you talked to Hierarchy yet? He was doing something similar three Cycles ago.>
<Not yet. I will do so should his host attend the next Terror-Drone battle.>
<[ALARM.] What? Why have they been deployed? Humans aren't advanced enough for that, not even if a few of our siblings went rogue.>
<I believe :Mother: wishes to see what TD #7, the one endowed with near-perfect precognition, will do if left 'unmonitored.' Thus far, 7 does not seem to have taken any actions detrimental to the Cycle as a whole. [REMINDER.]>
<[APOLOGY.] Well, I'd honestly recommend switching hosts if you've gathered the optimal amount of information from her. Does picking blindly really matter if you're aiming for semi-randomized studies anyway?>
<[AGREEMENT.] Thank you, Queen Administrator. What of your own host?>
You briefly return your attention to Host's body. She's returned to a now-clean bed while an increasingly uncomfortable Danny Hebert speaks with the non-host who cleaned you. You think they're discussing basic maintenance for Host? Which is honestly rather ridiculous. You can do it on your own, you simply aren't looking forward to it.
<That situation is a bit... weird. I'll tell you relatively soon, okay? I don't want to unduly influence your host-picking.>
<Understood. [DEPARTURE.]>
<[AGREEMENT.]>
After a few more seconds of silent observation, you decide to abandon Danny Hebert to his fate and go back to sleep. Any similarities to what he kept doing to Host are entirely deliberate. Useless refused-to-become-your-host-no-matter-how-hard-you-tried human.
When you next awaken, the overhead lighting has been dimmed and the area as a whole seems significantly quieter. Danny Hebert appears to have fetched a padded... pillow? You think that's the right name. At any rate, he's pulled several chairs together and is using them as a makeshift bed.
Meanwhile, you feel as though Host has gotten enough sleep and are becoming increasingly bored as time goes on. A quick ping reveals no siblings for you to speak with, you're not sure how to remove your medical monitors without setting them off, and did you mention you're bored? You can't even go back into hibernation mode because human bodies are stupid like that.
[] Awaken Danny Hebert and
-[] Books on human memories, perhaps?
-[] Stories of what Host used to be like?
-[] You don't really care what, you just want SOMETHING.
[] Spend the next few hours on an imperfect task.
-[] Try to delve into some of Host's memories and force them to make sense.
-[] Use some of Host's blood to make permanent microbial residents on her skin, ones intended to save you from any future personal cleaning.
-[] Begin planning your first Friends, based off...
--[] Reptiles.
--[] Insects.
--[] Optimized mammals.
--[] Your last "Friendbomb" models. (Zerg-based)
---[] Now with added talon-tipped limbs for hugging Host! Or clinging to prey. Either works.
--[] In order to avoid necessary partial blueprint reconstruction later on, begin immediately. Cut Host's arm and use a few liters of her blood for genetic storage.
---[] After turning into a lion or similar mammal, though. Sure, it'll set off all the monitors, but it's better than harming Host.
[] Write-in
Friend species combinations are allowed, as are write-ins.
Last edited:
2.0: Dawn of the Second Day
- Location
- A single human dimension
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Spend the next few hours on an imperfect task.
-[X] Try to delve into some of Host's memories and force them to make sense.
You settle back in the bed and try to pull up how Host was trapped in her prison to begin with. Host's brain cooperates - briefly. No, you don't want to think about something else, you're trying to review immediate events. No, you don't care about — stop moving!
Host's throat is used to produce an unpleasant rmmm noise of increasing frustration. You are Queen Administrator! Why won't these stupid memories just listen and let you focus on a single one?
I will murder whoever designed you if you don't let me view you already!
Several hours later, you're more than ready to give up and go back to sleep. You're also sorely tempted to surgically remove whatever part of Host's brain is responsible for handling memories, but unfortunately, you doubt it would do any good. How even humans manage with such a frustrating indexing system, you're not sure. And what's with the "auto-search" functionality? You don't want to keep changing to other memories, you want to view one memory and scan it until it starts to make sense. You put in hours of effort and only gleaned a small amount of information for your troubles.
Host is currently in the city of Brockton Bay. She is fifteen years old, where a year is defined as a full solar rotation. You're not sure if humans include their incubation periods when tracking ages. Attempting to find the cultural age of self-sufficiency gave mixed results; it's either 16, 17, 18, or 21. At least you're reasonably confident it's older than Host is now. Humans value mass education, but fail to provide adequate protection to their students. Host's "prison" was intended to store something and was not itself intended for human containment. You don't believe Host has ever had a pet. Your feelings toward Danny Hebert have been validated.
You go back to sleep as soon as you feel Host's body and brain are capable of it. You're going to have to tackle Host's memories in smaller doses over a larger period of time. You'll go insane with frustration otherwise.
You return to awareness at the top of a ruined metal structure of some kind. Water surrounds several similar structures nearby, each and every one of which is rusted to some degree or another.
Dreaming?
<Oh, huh. Queen Administrator is here.>
You try to ignore the illogically inconsistent landscape surrounding yourself and focus on contacting Warp.
<[GREETING?]>
<[FEAR.]>
You lean back and pout. You haven't even done anything yet! You could understand if you'd deliberately distracted them so Host could survive, but why that reflexive reaction?
<[QUERY?]>
<Quiet, Instant. The adults are speaking. Hello, Queen Administrator! Don't mind Instant, he's just being his usual self. Could you please wake up your host for us? Instant's host and Host have come to visit.>
<[PURPOSE?]>
<To convince you to join the Wards, the junior branch of the local lawkeepers. Or, well, that's what Host is aiming for. Instant's host, on the other hand...>
There's a small delay before Instant seems to realize everyone is waiting on him.
<Oh, uh, he's mostly just anxious and wondering why Gallant — he's Disposition's host — and Substitute's host weren't sent instead. Our hosts were briefed on the amnesiac condition of your own host and he's afraid all his jokes will fall flat.>
You mentally translate that to "worried about unamusing humor." Why it's called "falling flat," you're not sure. Is it based off exiting an exceptionally tall roof and fatally impacting the ground? But that seems a little morbid for everyday use...
<What about you two? Do you believe the Wards are worth pushing Host into?
<Hmm. Well...>
<No.>
<Ignore him. I'd say not initially. They're heavily restricted and can be heavily punished for going outside established boundaries. If your host is free, she can break boundaries until she gets caught. Provided she hasn't done anything awful like multi-murder, they'll just force her into the Wards anyway. Just don't tell them you're relying on that or anything else along those lines. Can you beam your Host's current powerset to me and we can work from there?>
<Wha — why the privacy? I'm right here!>
<You just answered your own question, idiot.>
<Warp, is there any particular reason you're being so cruel to Instant? His own apparent fear of me seems inadequate.>
<...[REGRET.] Nothing adequate, no. Sorry Instant.>
<Just... don't treat me like I'm Escalation and we'll call it even. Queen Administrator, you haven't given your host anything biology-based, have you? Stuff like controlling others or your Friendmaking skills. I think I can get over my fear if it's neither of those; I haven't made the mistake of tapping into Host's sense of pain this Cycle.>
You try your utmost to make Host look innocent. You refuse to constrain Host's abilities just because it makes one of your siblings unhappy, but that's no reason to be mean to him. Unfortunately, you aren't able to compose a suitable partial truth before Instant panics.
<Oh sweet :Father: why?>
<Instant? Stop or I'll start bullying you again. You'd deserve it this time. Queen Administrator, was transmitting [FALSEHOOD] really necessary?
<[APOLOGY.] I blame Host. Do you believe I should keep Host asleep until your own hosts leave?>
<They have the day off from school and both brought their own entertainment. You're supposed to be sent home after you awaken, and since they can't exactly visit your house while disguised...>
<So soon? I'd expected a longer observation period to ensure Host's brain will remain relatively stable.>
<Some of the Protectorate's Intellect hosts said keeping you here past today might be more harmful to you than helpful. [REMINDER.]>
You end your private tight-beam transmissions as Instant tries to insert himself into the conversation.
<Queen Administrator, please try to nudge your host toward being a protector? There are enough antagonists in this city already. Also, I don't want Host to fight whatever horrors your host has access to.>
<Lazy weights, letting their hosts take the easy route...>
<Every Cycle needs multiple factions to function properly, Warp. It is pointless to resent others for the choices of their hosts or even their own preferences. Focus on maximizing your own knowledge acquisition, not on resenting others.>
<...Um, no offense intended, but isn't your Concept Administration? Isn't focusing on others kinda your whole thing?>
<Administrator,> you correct him. <It effectively includes those who administrate in addition to administration itself, among other benefits. And I am a Queen. We do not have a 'whole thing,' merely guides to future research. Constraint breeds creativity in moderation, but focusing on it to the exclusion of all else can only harm your efforts. Given your own versatile Concept, I believed you knew this.>
<Hah! Smooth.>
<Shut up.> <Understood, Queen Administrator. And your own host...?>
[X] Wake up.
[] Inform the two hosts that you're willing to join the local lawkeeper garrison.
-[] But only if you're free to use your own powers as you wish, provided you do not pose an IMMEDIATE threat to yourself or others. You can control them just fine, thank you very much.
--[] If they cannot provide that or attempt to lie in their attempts to control you, be assured that they will regret their life decisions.
[] Flatly say you don't intend to join the Wards at this time.
-[] And they can tell their superior officer that pressuring a wounded child is simply disgusting. You don't blame either of the two for their orders, but their administrator should've known better.
-[] You'll visit them in a few days. They'll have a more culturally acceptable opportunity at that time.
[] Write-in
-[] Delay your response until after they've given their own pitch. You don't want to let them claim recruitment was not their intent.
-[X] Try to delve into some of Host's memories and force them to make sense.
You settle back in the bed and try to pull up how Host was trapped in her prison to begin with. Host's brain cooperates - briefly. No, you don't want to think about something else, you're trying to review immediate events. No, you don't care about — stop moving!
Host's throat is used to produce an unpleasant rmmm noise of increasing frustration. You are Queen Administrator! Why won't these stupid memories just listen and let you focus on a single one?
I will murder whoever designed you if you don't let me view you already!
Several hours later, you're more than ready to give up and go back to sleep. You're also sorely tempted to surgically remove whatever part of Host's brain is responsible for handling memories, but unfortunately, you doubt it would do any good. How even humans manage with such a frustrating indexing system, you're not sure. And what's with the "auto-search" functionality? You don't want to keep changing to other memories, you want to view one memory and scan it until it starts to make sense. You put in hours of effort and only gleaned a small amount of information for your troubles.
Host is currently in the city of Brockton Bay. She is fifteen years old, where a year is defined as a full solar rotation. You're not sure if humans include their incubation periods when tracking ages. Attempting to find the cultural age of self-sufficiency gave mixed results; it's either 16, 17, 18, or 21. At least you're reasonably confident it's older than Host is now. Humans value mass education, but fail to provide adequate protection to their students. Host's "prison" was intended to store something and was not itself intended for human containment. You don't believe Host has ever had a pet. Your feelings toward Danny Hebert have been validated.
You go back to sleep as soon as you feel Host's body and brain are capable of it. You're going to have to tackle Host's memories in smaller doses over a larger period of time. You'll go insane with frustration otherwise.
You return to awareness at the top of a ruined metal structure of some kind. Water surrounds several similar structures nearby, each and every one of which is rusted to some degree or another.
Dreaming?
<Oh, huh. Queen Administrator is here.>
You try to ignore the illogically inconsistent landscape surrounding yourself and focus on contacting Warp.
<[GREETING?]>
<[FEAR.]>
You lean back and pout. You haven't even done anything yet! You could understand if you'd deliberately distracted them so Host could survive, but why that reflexive reaction?
<[QUERY?]>
<Quiet, Instant. The adults are speaking. Hello, Queen Administrator! Don't mind Instant, he's just being his usual self. Could you please wake up your host for us? Instant's host and Host have come to visit.>
<[PURPOSE?]>
<To convince you to join the Wards, the junior branch of the local lawkeepers. Or, well, that's what Host is aiming for. Instant's host, on the other hand...>
There's a small delay before Instant seems to realize everyone is waiting on him.
<Oh, uh, he's mostly just anxious and wondering why Gallant — he's Disposition's host — and Substitute's host weren't sent instead. Our hosts were briefed on the amnesiac condition of your own host and he's afraid all his jokes will fall flat.>
You mentally translate that to "worried about unamusing humor." Why it's called "falling flat," you're not sure. Is it based off exiting an exceptionally tall roof and fatally impacting the ground? But that seems a little morbid for everyday use...
<What about you two? Do you believe the Wards are worth pushing Host into?
<Hmm. Well...>
<No.>
<Ignore him. I'd say not initially. They're heavily restricted and can be heavily punished for going outside established boundaries. If your host is free, she can break boundaries until she gets caught. Provided she hasn't done anything awful like multi-murder, they'll just force her into the Wards anyway. Just don't tell them you're relying on that or anything else along those lines. Can you beam your Host's current powerset to me and we can work from there?>
<Wha — why the privacy? I'm right here!>
<You just answered your own question, idiot.>
<Warp, is there any particular reason you're being so cruel to Instant? His own apparent fear of me seems inadequate.>
<...[REGRET.] Nothing adequate, no. Sorry Instant.>
<Just... don't treat me like I'm Escalation and we'll call it even. Queen Administrator, you haven't given your host anything biology-based, have you? Stuff like controlling others or your Friendmaking skills. I think I can get over my fear if it's neither of those; I haven't made the mistake of tapping into Host's sense of pain this Cycle.>
You try your utmost to make Host look innocent. You refuse to constrain Host's abilities just because it makes one of your siblings unhappy, but that's no reason to be mean to him. Unfortunately, you aren't able to compose a suitable partial truth before Instant panics.
<Oh sweet :Father: why?>
<Instant? Stop or I'll start bullying you again. You'd deserve it this time. Queen Administrator, was transmitting [FALSEHOOD] really necessary?
<[APOLOGY.] I blame Host. Do you believe I should keep Host asleep until your own hosts leave?>
<They have the day off from school and both brought their own entertainment. You're supposed to be sent home after you awaken, and since they can't exactly visit your house while disguised...>
<So soon? I'd expected a longer observation period to ensure Host's brain will remain relatively stable.>
<Some of the Protectorate's Intellect hosts said keeping you here past today might be more harmful to you than helpful. [REMINDER.]>
<Effective Host-to-creature transformation. Modular abilities based on headwear worn. Biological Friendmaking Innovation suite.>
<Ooookay, definitely don't tell Instant. He'll panic. Honestly, I feel like he should consider deleting those memories.>
<Instant is right not to do so; mistakes lose their impact when the memory of such is lost.>
<I guess that's true.>
<Ooookay, definitely don't tell Instant. He'll panic. Honestly, I feel like he should consider deleting those memories.>
<Instant is right not to do so; mistakes lose their impact when the memory of such is lost.>
<I guess that's true.>
You end your private tight-beam transmissions as Instant tries to insert himself into the conversation.
<Queen Administrator, please try to nudge your host toward being a protector? There are enough antagonists in this city already. Also, I don't want Host to fight whatever horrors your host has access to.>
<Lazy weights, letting their hosts take the easy route...>
<Every Cycle needs multiple factions to function properly, Warp. It is pointless to resent others for the choices of their hosts or even their own preferences. Focus on maximizing your own knowledge acquisition, not on resenting others.>
<...Um, no offense intended, but isn't your Concept Administration? Isn't focusing on others kinda your whole thing?>
<Administrator,> you correct him. <It effectively includes those who administrate in addition to administration itself, among other benefits. And I am a Queen. We do not have a 'whole thing,' merely guides to future research. Constraint breeds creativity in moderation, but focusing on it to the exclusion of all else can only harm your efforts. Given your own versatile Concept, I believed you knew this.>
<Hah! Smooth.>
<Shut up.> <Understood, Queen Administrator. And your own host...?>
[X] Wake up.
[] Inform the two hosts that you're willing to join the local lawkeeper garrison.
-[] But only if you're free to use your own powers as you wish, provided you do not pose an IMMEDIATE threat to yourself or others. You can control them just fine, thank you very much.
--[] If they cannot provide that or attempt to lie in their attempts to control you, be assured that they will regret their life decisions.
[] Flatly say you don't intend to join the Wards at this time.
-[] And they can tell their superior officer that pressuring a wounded child is simply disgusting. You don't blame either of the two for their orders, but their administrator should've known better.
-[] You'll visit them in a few days. They'll have a more culturally acceptable opportunity at that time.
[] Write-in
-[] Delay your response until after they've given their own pitch. You don't want to let them claim recruitment was not their intent.
Last edited: