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?
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.
--[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.>
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.
