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.>