Two entities, one severely wounded, seek to utilize human thoughts and ideas for power, culminating in a fight for the fate of the world... well isn't that just the same old story...
The Rhythm of Falling Forwards
- Thread starter Bailey Matutine
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A Shot In The Dark 1
Bailey Matutine
(Verified Pooka)
- Location
- Pelican Town
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[DESTINATION]
[TRAJECTORY]
REBELLION
It was almost a cruel joke, Taylor thought, staring at the little rectangle in her hand, that the very first thing she made, was to destroy more of her mother's legacy. It was with almost a fevered need that she'd woken up in the middle of the night, plagued by nightmares of having lost her mother's flute, desperate to not see herself in the brand new set of vanity mirrors that had been her father's christmas present for her along with a set of hair care goods, and found herself drawn to the basement, where she tore open the box labeled Annette's Music Stuff and did… whatever this was to it.
The cassettes that held the songs she'd been writing were overwritten, and with them her last opportunity to ever hear that flute again. But, at least, she felt with certainty as she pressed the button, it wouldn't be her own face in the mirror anymore. Her body filled with static, her perspective shifted, and in the handheld mirror she beheld a face with large eyes, feelers instead of hair, and a domino mask. It was an electric rush, as the magnetic tape turned the emotion of human imagination into a physical reality around her.
Her wings flared, and she knocked over a box. A sound upstairs made her realize that perhaps she'd alerted her father. She should change back, put this all away. This done, she just had to fight the wave of exhaustion to stay awake, and explai
She didn't go to school that morning, and that might have saved her life. Not her living alive life, but rather her on track to leave behind high school bullshit and graduate into college life. From a certain perspective it was almost the same thing. She wasn't sure, exactly, what would have happened if she had been in school instead of the hospital for her fainting spell and the resulting knock to her head when the police came to investigate the mess that turned out to have been in her locker.
She was sure Emma and her cronies had thought it would be funny to watch her get arrested for "felony vandalism" as the police who showed up at the hospital had put it. Her father had asked if they had her on tape from the hallway security cameras vandalizing her own locker. When it turned out they hadn't checked the tapes, just accepted the word of a random student, her father had asked why they were here instead of getting those tapes.
They hadn't come back. Neither had her father, who had gone to find a phone he could use without disturbing her.
Honestly she already felt better, and a bit fussed over, and she wanted to leave as soon as he returned. She vaguely understood that he wanted to make sure whatever wild rumors were running around the school didn't impact their insurance, but she just wanted to go home. She had built a costume, but she wanted to be a hero and just a costume wouldn't be enough to do it.
The things she needed were just on the tip of her… ear? There was a brief snatch of music that she almost unheard, somewhere in the hospital. It suggested something, but she wasn't quite sure what, and she needed to jot this down so she could try and write it manually. It went beyond the range of her hearing before she could find a pen.
Maybe she could keep an ear open. Maybe she'd hear something else. For now, she had an idea for how to improve a microphone to hear on the frequency she was listening at…
[TRAJECTORY]
REBELLION
It was almost a cruel joke, Taylor thought, staring at the little rectangle in her hand, that the very first thing she made, was to destroy more of her mother's legacy. It was with almost a fevered need that she'd woken up in the middle of the night, plagued by nightmares of having lost her mother's flute, desperate to not see herself in the brand new set of vanity mirrors that had been her father's christmas present for her along with a set of hair care goods, and found herself drawn to the basement, where she tore open the box labeled Annette's Music Stuff and did… whatever this was to it.
The cassettes that held the songs she'd been writing were overwritten, and with them her last opportunity to ever hear that flute again. But, at least, she felt with certainty as she pressed the button, it wouldn't be her own face in the mirror anymore. Her body filled with static, her perspective shifted, and in the handheld mirror she beheld a face with large eyes, feelers instead of hair, and a domino mask. It was an electric rush, as the magnetic tape turned the emotion of human imagination into a physical reality around her.
Her wings flared, and she knocked over a box. A sound upstairs made her realize that perhaps she'd alerted her father. She should change back, put this all away. This done, she just had to fight the wave of exhaustion to stay awake, and explai
She didn't go to school that morning, and that might have saved her life. Not her living alive life, but rather her on track to leave behind high school bullshit and graduate into college life. From a certain perspective it was almost the same thing. She wasn't sure, exactly, what would have happened if she had been in school instead of the hospital for her fainting spell and the resulting knock to her head when the police came to investigate the mess that turned out to have been in her locker.
She was sure Emma and her cronies had thought it would be funny to watch her get arrested for "felony vandalism" as the police who showed up at the hospital had put it. Her father had asked if they had her on tape from the hallway security cameras vandalizing her own locker. When it turned out they hadn't checked the tapes, just accepted the word of a random student, her father had asked why they were here instead of getting those tapes.
They hadn't come back. Neither had her father, who had gone to find a phone he could use without disturbing her.
Honestly she already felt better, and a bit fussed over, and she wanted to leave as soon as he returned. She vaguely understood that he wanted to make sure whatever wild rumors were running around the school didn't impact their insurance, but she just wanted to go home. She had built a costume, but she wanted to be a hero and just a costume wouldn't be enough to do it.
The things she needed were just on the tip of her… ear? There was a brief snatch of music that she almost unheard, somewhere in the hospital. It suggested something, but she wasn't quite sure what, and she needed to jot this down so she could try and write it manually. It went beyond the range of her hearing before she could find a pen.
Maybe she could keep an ear open. Maybe she'd hear something else. For now, she had an idea for how to improve a microphone to hear on the frequency she was listening at…
Last edited:
Magnetism 1.1
Bailey Matutine
(Verified Pooka)
- Location
- Pelican Town
- Pronouns
- They/Them
I checked my cassette player again and looked through my bag of supplies. Over the last few months I'd found a variety of signals around town to record from a discreet distance, and filled well enough tapes that I had to leave a few at home. Before I made that decision, I'd been carrying around a bag of cassettes that was so full the zipper wouldn't close properly, and I'd lost a plant based shape I was calling Guardenia for its ability to form protective walls from flower petals. Going back to that bus stop later I hadn't found it, but I also hadn't heard anyone freaking out about tinker tech cassette tapes, so I was going to have to live with that and not worry too hard.
I still hadn't found that same song from the hospital, either. I'd gone to a few of them, and even originally got Guardenia at one of them, only to lose it so close to another, but not that same song. That's what I was out trying to do tonight. I was going back to that first hospital. It was the same day of the week, the same week of the month, and the same time of the day. If this mystery sound had anything like a schedule, I hoped I would find it again. It had sounded… sincere, and somber, yet joyful, and like it had some power to it. Honestly I felt like I needed more power. In the hospital, everything had seemed so clear. I had a power, so I was going to be a hero, just like in Protectorate Pals, which played every Saturday Morning.
Of course, at the time I hadn't known that Shadow Stalker would be injured during training the next day and have to retire due to her injury. In a town where we had Panacea, whose power was basically "you're healthy now," a training injury must have been particularly bad to make her retire. That's why I needed to be stronger and more versatile before I signed up. I couldn't let that happen to me. I had to be better than that. Stronger than that. Shadow Stalker had been really out there making a difference, and I had to not just measure up, I had to exceed her. I had to- listen carefully, because there that sound was again.
Bingo.
I still wasn't sure exactly where the music was coming from, but I did know that it moved around sometimes, and that seemed to be the case here. It was getting steadily closer to my position in the physical therapy park at the hospital. I'd spent a lot of time here over the last few months, sometimes doing exercise, sometimes doing my homework, all under the watchful gaze of the hospital staff. Technically I had a prescription to engage in recuperative mental and physical activity so the staff didn't bother me much, especially because I liked to work out new compositions on the piano in the enclosed area and the other outpatients seemed to enjoy it. through a combination of trustworthy adults seeing me doing my homework and the bullies at school backing off again, my grades were even doing better.
All of which was a nice side benefit to my main goal, becoming realized now, as the sound I'd been chasing built louder and louder. I took out my microphone and began recording a tape. the sound was avian and temporal to my ear, and had the same kind of potential for camaraderie and growth that Guardenia had, although not the same kind of branching utility that my original Dominoth tape had. As I recorded the sound I distantly noted that a redhead pushing a wheelchair with a gentleman my father's age in it was approaching me, and I stepped out of the way. As he passed me, he nodded, and as he got further away, the sound did too. Now that was interesting.
I still hadn't found that same song from the hospital, either. I'd gone to a few of them, and even originally got Guardenia at one of them, only to lose it so close to another, but not that same song. That's what I was out trying to do tonight. I was going back to that first hospital. It was the same day of the week, the same week of the month, and the same time of the day. If this mystery sound had anything like a schedule, I hoped I would find it again. It had sounded… sincere, and somber, yet joyful, and like it had some power to it. Honestly I felt like I needed more power. In the hospital, everything had seemed so clear. I had a power, so I was going to be a hero, just like in Protectorate Pals, which played every Saturday Morning.
Of course, at the time I hadn't known that Shadow Stalker would be injured during training the next day and have to retire due to her injury. In a town where we had Panacea, whose power was basically "you're healthy now," a training injury must have been particularly bad to make her retire. That's why I needed to be stronger and more versatile before I signed up. I couldn't let that happen to me. I had to be better than that. Stronger than that. Shadow Stalker had been really out there making a difference, and I had to not just measure up, I had to exceed her. I had to- listen carefully, because there that sound was again.
Bingo.
I still wasn't sure exactly where the music was coming from, but I did know that it moved around sometimes, and that seemed to be the case here. It was getting steadily closer to my position in the physical therapy park at the hospital. I'd spent a lot of time here over the last few months, sometimes doing exercise, sometimes doing my homework, all under the watchful gaze of the hospital staff. Technically I had a prescription to engage in recuperative mental and physical activity so the staff didn't bother me much, especially because I liked to work out new compositions on the piano in the enclosed area and the other outpatients seemed to enjoy it. through a combination of trustworthy adults seeing me doing my homework and the bullies at school backing off again, my grades were even doing better.
All of which was a nice side benefit to my main goal, becoming realized now, as the sound I'd been chasing built louder and louder. I took out my microphone and began recording a tape. the sound was avian and temporal to my ear, and had the same kind of potential for camaraderie and growth that Guardenia had, although not the same kind of branching utility that my original Dominoth tape had. As I recorded the sound I distantly noted that a redhead pushing a wheelchair with a gentleman my father's age in it was approaching me, and I stepped out of the way. As he passed me, he nodded, and as he got further away, the sound did too. Now that was interesting.
Totally forgot this was a thing. Glad to see it back!