Your name is Taylor Hebert, and today is definitely the worst day of your life.
There's been some heavy competition for that title lately, but getting shoved into a locker full of some of the most heinous filth you could imagine? That clinched it.
Also, you're fairly certain you're going insane, since you just stopped screaming and pounding the locker door in favor of narrating the suffering that is your life.
With that thought, you go back to struggling with all your might, even as your traitorous mind notes the nauseating stench, the claustrophobic isolation, the countless crawling things that feel like they're moving over every inch of your body...
You need to get out of here. You need to get out of here!
So, in a flash of light that no one else is there to see, you do.
–––––
They orbit one another, and are orbited in turn. Their immensity sprawls across multiple universes, breathtaking beauty moving in directions man has never named. Their smallest fragments, flaking off of them like dead skin, are at least the size of your head. They themselves are as planets.
Destination.
Agreement.
Trajectory.
Agreement.
Even their language is equal parts graceful and gargantuan, vast concepts expressed with the energy of supernovae.
And yet, as the two drift towards a familiar world, there's a part of you that's less than awed. A part that, no matter how long you behold the pair, still thinks to itself:
They're doing it wrong.
–––––
You jolt out of your fugue state, and find yourself surrounded by...
By...
You've always thought "indescribable" was kind of a dumb word. If nothing else, using it is still describing something. But it's really the only word that applies to what lies before you. Well, maybe throw in "chaotic" as well. Points of light dot the chaos, each a different color. They drift by as you try to take in your surroundings, anything you might have seen in your dreams (for that must have been a dream) forgotten.
While you can't describe wherever you are, you still come to a conclusion fairly quickly. Either you've become a parahuman with one of the weirdest powers ever, or you really have gone utterly insane.
You decide to assume you're a cape. That way, what you decide to do will actually matter. Also, YOU'RE A CAPE! Once you figure this power out... Actually, you'd better get to work on that.
You look at yourself and confirm that you can still recognize your own body amid this vast whatever-it-is. You also recognize a tampon that apparently managed to cling to you. As if detecting your disgust, it... Dissolves? Decays? Whatever you might call it, it's not something matter should do.
With that thought, you notice a faint itch all over your body. Associating the two might be a leap of logic, but you'd rather not risk having the same thing happen to you.
Fortunately, now that you're thinking about it, your power is surprisingly intuitive. You want to stop, and so you stop. You want to turn around, and so you turn around. Then you turn around a few more times until it actually feels like spinning and not pulling yourself inside-out along directions that usually don't exist.
Then you realize just how much distance you've covered. Well, unless the way back is supposed to look like a constellation, but something tells you it isn't. Also, the itching's definitely getting worse. You should probably pick where you're going now and head there as fast as you can.
That decided, you aim for:Opening Hand 1.2
[X] The black star
The itching isn't getting any better, so you need to choose quickly. All you have to go on is color, and whatever instinct is helping you move isn't offering anything on where to move.
You consider the gold star and think of Scion. Crazy as it sounds, maybe that's him?
Wait, no, bad idea. Terrible idea. Even on the off-chance that it is Scion, he's probably rescuing people from a hurricane or a wildfire or something. Wherever he is, odds are it's not safe for you.
The green star appeals to you on a gut level. Something feels right about it, though you can't put words to why.
And the blue star... You get the sense that your power is one of the most ridiculously overpowered Mover abilities known to man. Given that, well, Earth's the blue planet, right? You're definitely not in space, but...
That admittedly ridiculous train of thought is cut off as your eye is drawn to the black star, standing out like a dead pixel in the roiling, incomprehensible backdrop. And yet, for all your thoughts of black holes and the dangers of turning to the Dark Side, it doesn't seem like that kind of black. It feels like cool shade. Somewhere safe. Somewhere that will accept you, warts and all.
Well, why not?
Your decision made, you rocket towards the black star. At least, you're pretty sure you're rocketing, given how quickly the other stars are moving away from from it.
Soon enough, the point of anti-light resolves itself as a sphere that, judging by the odd blur, has more than three dimensions to it. Not too many more; your brain hasn't just given up on trying to make sense of it, as with the background.
As you get closer, the darkness pulls back into a shadowy outline. On the "surface" of the hypersphere is an image of a long, winding river, cutting through high cliffs and wide grasslands, thick woods and mossy fens. It ties everything together like a ribbon.
It's beautiful, but it definitely isn't Earth Bet. You look around at the other stars, now scattered all around you. Where is your home?
The full-body itching picks that moment to progress to pins and needles on the edge of pain. Right, you're on a clock. Powers aren't supposed to be able to hurt the cape who has them, but it's not like interdimensional transit is very well studied. Lucky you.
You bring your attention back to the scene before you and realize you have no idea how to get in there. You drift next to the sphere, which is about twice your height, and try one of humanity's oldest scientific analysis techniques.
...
Well, poking it didn't work. The surface is surprisingly rubbery, but that doesn't tell you anything.
You think about how you found yourself here. The desperate need to escape. Maybe try it the other way around?
You press your hands against the sphere and close your eyes.
Let me in.
Let me in!
You feel yourself slip inside. Your vision goes totally dark, then brightens through a series of greens until it settles on the color of spring leaves. Then the light unfolds like an opening flower, and you fall about a foot with a splash.
You resolve to work on your landings.
A sensory explosion strikes you like a punch to the face. Wherever you'd been, sight and touch were all that worked. Now the sounds and smells surrounding you are almost overpowering, to say nothing of feelings you've never had before. There's more splashing as creatures flee your sudden appearance, the constant drones of insects, a putrid-sweet blend of rot and wildflowers, and a loud yammering getting closer, or at least louder.
Wait, what?
You crack your eyes open. They ache like you've been looking at a computer monitor for too long. Still, your vision is clear enough to make out your moss-strewn surroundings, which look pretty much how your other senses had described them.
You stand and try to ignore the slimy swamp water now soaked into your pants. You're more concerned with the approaching din. It sounds disturbingly like about a dozen voices all chanting "Loathing" over and over again. That can't be good.
You consider using your power, but when you start to think "Let me out," there's a feeling somewhere in your chest. It's neither hunger nor exhaustion, but it's similar to both. You feel empty, depleted, tapped out. You'll fill up again, but for now, moving out of this dimension is not an option.
Not for now. But it will be. You have powers. How do you feel about that?
[X] Curious
[ ] Free
[ ] Hopeful
[ ] Uncertain
[ ] Wary
Of course, right now, you're more concerned about the approaching loathers. What do you want to do about them?
[X] Hide! You have plenty of experience there.
[ ] Run! Through the swamp! That you know nothing about! Okay, it's a bad idea, but you're panicking!
[ ] Stand your ground! You're a parahuman, and you're going to be a hero. You're not going to run from a bunch of rednecks in some backwater universe!
[ ] Try diplomacy. Maybe "loathing" means "the Messiah has come" in the local language.
[ ] Write in
Status Unlocked: Power Status
Quest Notes Updated: Taylor's Map of the Multiverse
(Congratulations on completing your first planeswalk. Elaborations (i.e. Exalted-style stunts) will be accepted for the second choice, and if it goes well, most choices in the future. Please keep the elaborations to a reasonable length. A paragraph or brief dialogue at the most.)Opening Hand 1.3
[X] Curious
[X] Hide! You have plenty of experience there.
Roughly a dozen people saying something that sounds suspiciously like "Loathing"? In an entirely unfamiliar place like this? JUST as you've arrived? Yeah, no. You may have powers, but one of them is recharging and you have no idea what the others are or how to use them. As such, it's time to fall back on a tried and true method: hide.
Fortunately, the chanting mob is loud enough that you can easily tell where they're coming from. You slip between trees and stay low, calling upon more than a year of experience in avoiding notice. Still, you stay close enough that you'll be able to determine who they are and what they're like. Who knows? They might be friendly. And maybe Sophia was trying to confess her undying love for you every time she tripped you down the stairs.
As the mob gets closer, it becomes clear that they're actually chanting "Loud thing" with a weird accent. It's Irish or Scottish or maybe Welsh. That general area.
In any case, there's a great splashing as they enter the shin-deep water, followed by murmuring and more than one confused call of "Loud thing?"
You risk a peek, and you realize that you should've been more concerned about what they are. Aside from a humanoid shape, no two look alike. Some have horns, some have claws, some are almost human, and some are anything but. The sheer variety of heights, body shapes, ear sizes, skin tones, and pretty much everything else is staggering. It's like Dr. Seuss as interpreted by Nilbog.
One of them, jaundiced and hook-nosed, looks in your direction, and its beady eyes widen. "Ooh, pretty!"
You freeze. You don't know for certain that you've been discovered. Though you might very well meet that creature's standards for beauty.
Thankfully, as the thing approaches, its gaze wanders up. It plucks a few flowers and heads back to the group. "New! And pretty!" It displays its findings proudly.
The others boggle in awe, apparently having forgotten all about the loud thing.
You move away carefully. You don't plan on staying very long, and babysitting a community of three-year olds is not on your itinerary. Maybe if you're lucky, the sun will hit the swamp just right and they'll try to fish the shinies out of the water.
After a few minutes traveling, it hits you. This isn't Earth Bet. Why were those things speaking English?-
Unless they weren't. Do you have some kind of translator power? You try to think of something to say in a foreign language.
"Um... omelette dü fromage?"
Face, meet palm. The topic of the discussion is Taylor's idiocy. This may take a while.
Now that your thoughts aren't occupied by wonder or terror, your moment of shame is interrupted by the incessant feelings coming from whatever sixth sense you've developed. You don't know how to interpret it, so it's as annoying as the four thousand seven hundred fifty-nine mosquitoes, leeches, and assorted other unpleasant things in the nearby wait, what?
You look for somewhere to sit as you sort out your brain, and a rough topography of the area fills your mind, each point a bug. You walk dazedly to a small hollow in a tree trunk and sit down hard. This is a lot to take in.
Can you do anything else besides sense them? Yes, that fly is now doing loop-de-loops on your command. Seeing through them? Right, compound eyes. That's going to take some work. How many can you direct at once?
Shit shit shit no back undo cancel!
You make a mental note to avoid blanket "come here" commands for the near future.
Okay, so you can move between dimensions, understand all languages, and... control bugs. Well, powers generally make physics curl into a ball and cry itself to sleep. Why should they follow any kind of logic?
No. You refuse to accept such an excuse. The bug control may not seem as impressive as your dimension shifting, but you just commanded a rather massive swarm. There's definite potential there, once you've figured out how to use it best.
And you will figure it out. You're not going to waste this opportunity. You're going to be the best damn trans-Earth bug controller there ever—
Okay, what is that? It's definitely not your bug detection. Do you seriously have a seventh sense?
Well, so much the better. It's another aspect of your power to figure out. It feels a... a presence. It's all around you. And it feels...
Dark. Daring. Hungry. Greedy. Driven. Sly. Noxious.
Connected.
You shudder, and everything sounds like bitter purple for a moment. Then it hits you, as surely as you knew how to move in the place between worlds. You were sensing the land. You're now connected to the land.
The emptiness in your chest has lessened dramatically, though it doesn't quite feel right for leaving this world. You're not sure why, but you'll figure that out in time. You'll experiment, and learn, and draw strength from that knowledge. You'll be a hero for all worlds. A trio of high school bitches will be utterly beneath your notice.
Wait, that last bit came out kind of villainous. Still, the general idea is the right one.
As if in agreement, you feel the energy within you... twist somehow. Like a turning key or a puzzle piece slipping into place. Your bug power flares out, and for a moment, you lose yourself in the insect life for miles around.
The moment passes, but you feel somehow greater than you were before. As if you've gone from "girl who happens to have powers" to "parahuman."
A creaky voice calls out, "Well now, what are you?"
Your heart leaps into your throat, and you realize that parahumans can still suck at the whole "socializing" thing.
[ ] Say nothing. Nobody here but us termites!
[ ] Throw bugs at the problem! Maybe it will go away!
[ ] After that weird surge, maybe you can try leaving this world to find a quieter one for experimentation.
[X] Come out of the tree and answer like a civilized human being. Quite a concept.
[ ] Write in
Status Unlocked: Known Powers, Land Bonds
Quest Notes Updated: Gallery
Character Creation Complete!
Taylor Hebert 2GU
Planeswalker — Taylor
+1: Put a 1/1 green Insect creature token onto the battlefield.
-2: Whenever a creature you control deals combat damage to a player this turn, you may draw a card.
-6: You get an emblem with "Creatures you control get +1/+1 for each card in your hand."
3
(So yes, your reaction to your powers was, in fact, a deciding factor in your primary color affinity. Note that I said "primary." There's nothing stopping Taylor from learning other colors of magic, especially not after she formed a mana bond to a swamp. As for the surge? You'll see...)Opening Hand 1.4
[X] Come out of the tree and answer like a civilized human being. Quite a concept.
Okay. Breathe. You can do this. You can't believe you even considered bees as an option. It sounds like someone's grandmother out there! She's probably just out for a Sunday stroll. Through a swamp.
"Don't try to pretend you're not in there."
Oh, right. She's waiting for you. You call out, "Sorry! You startled me."
She clucks her tongue. At least, you think she does; there's an odd effect to it. "Have to keep your wits about around these parts, dearie, or someone else will make better use of them."
You hope that wasn't a threat. You slide out of your thinking spot, not sure what to expect. Maybe she's an adult of whatever the chanting mob are? "Sorry for the delay," you begin. "I'm..."
You're stunned, is what you are. It's a tree. Yes, a tree with two armlike branches and facial features lodged in its trunk, but a tree all the same. One that's easily ten feet tell. How did you not notice it coming?
The tree crosses its branches and quirks an eyebole. "Well, what are you? A stretched out kith? A hornless elf? The world's prettiest boggart? Don't be rude, child, finish introducing yourself."
You suspect that she just damned you with faint praise, assuming the earlier creatures are boggarts. "I... I'm Taylor. And a human."
"Human? Hmm..." Its hum sounds exactly like wood creaking. It probably is wood creaking. "I've heard of many things in my days, child, but I've never heard of humans. Of course, I've never seen someone quite like you before, either, so there we are." It grins, revealing unsettlingly sharp teeth. You become all too aware that its oversized hands are just the right size for snatching up unwary teenagers, and decide to start thinking of the talking tree as "her" again.
"Um, well..." You manage to control your bladder, but have less luck with swallowing the lump in your throat. "First time for everything?"
Her boughs shake back and forth in what is probably a nod. "So it seems." Her eyes widen and her hand reaches out. "Ah!"
"AH!" You dart back into the tree. The one that isn't trying to grab you.
"Seems you're a lucky human, Taylor. Taylor?" The light from the entrance is blocked by something. "Skittish as a squirrel, you are. Come on out, dear. Old Ceadra's not going to bite."
You sheepishly return outside. "Sorry, it's just... well, you're not the only one who's made first contact today. Do all trees talk around here?"
Ceadra just stares at you for a moment. "My, my. You really aren't from these parts, are you? No, not all trees talk here, and thank goodness. I wouldn't be able to hear myself think with that kind of racket!" She gives a laugh that's anything but wooden. "No, most of the dreamers sleep in the Murmuring Bosk." She waggles a finger. "And I won't take you there, so don't even think of asking. It's a sacred place, it is."
You catch sight of... something in that hand. "What is that?"
She grins and opens her palm. A greyhound-sized ant made of leaves and branches settles itself and waggles grassy antennae. "A fertilid. Rare as an elf's mercy around these parts, but this one was walking up to you like a loyal pet."
You reach out to it with your bug power on a hunch. It perks up and looks straight at you. The feel is different from when you command a fly or a mosquito. You can't tell where it is unless you're directly connected, and its anatomy makes no sense whatsoever. There's definitely some kind of mind beyond basic instinctual drives there, but it's all wrapped up in a single emotion. You probe it, and you feel... warm. Your thoughts turn to your mom, to the good times.
Another creaky hum shakes you out of your revery. "Well, now," says Ceadra. "That's a very interesting magic you have there." She gives you an appraising look.
"Magic?" Your first impulse is to object, but you know what? Sure. If the talking tree says it's magic, you're going to roll with it. "I, uh, I can't do much."
"Anyone who can make an elemental sit up and pay attention wouldn't need to." Her mouth twists in a scowl as she sees your blank expression. "Don't have them either, do you?"
You shake your head, feeling like you've disappointed a teacher who actually cares. "No, ma'am."
"Elementals are dreams. Thoughts. Ideas given form. This little fellow is the concept of new growth." She grins again. "And very useful in my brews."
You make the connection. Fertilid. Fertile. Weird as it sounds, mind-poking it apparently triggered your maternal instincts. And now you don't want to see it boiled for tea.
"Hey! You little..."
You blink and discover that you have a new friend. The fertilid looks at you with pebble eyes, and it's the most adorable thing you've ever seen. You pet it, and the moment you touch it, everything about it becomes clear. It's not absent from your senses, just present on a different level. Its anatomy isn't the physical twigs but the patterns of energy animating them, an energy identical to that welling up within you.
With that thought, your pool of energy discharges, and a slew of memories hits you like a brick to the brain.
Patient. Strong. Firm. Living. Growing. Spreading
Connected.
You stagger as Ceadra groans. You shake off the synesthesia and see that the fertilid now only comes up to your knee, a pile of forest litter at its feet.
Ceadra snatches it up. "Blast you, you went and used half of it!" She sighs. "Ah, well. It's better than nothing, I suppose, but I'd best get it home before it decides to make nice with you again." She moves off, and you try to ignore how she seems to have no visible legs.
After a moment, she looks back. She's still frowning, but there's humor in her voice. "Well? Aren't you coming?"
You just stare at her for a moment. You're still trying to sort out the memories of the forest the fertilid came from. "Coming where?"
"My home, of course! Can't go leaving some poor dear out in the open, not even knowing of treefolk!" She clucks her tongue, and you finally peg the sound as wood on wood, like a clog on a dance floor. "I've heard a rumor or two about your kind. Supposed to be wiser, you are, stronger and more terrible. Frankly, I'm glad you're not all you're cracked up to be."
You have no idea what she's talking about. "Humans?"
She shrugs, which is rather impressive, given her almost nonexistent shoulders. "Aye, if that's what you call yourselves. Welcome to Lorwyn, Miss Taylor. I'll be your guide."
She turns and begins to trudge off. What do you do?
[X] Go with Ceadra. You have questions, she has answers.
[ ] Ask Ceadra to wait. You have a lot to process right now.
[ ] Decline and go experiment until your dimension-travelling energy replenishes itself.
[ ] Decline, but follow Ceadra home. She may sound nice, but you want to see just what she does to that fertilid.
[ ] Write in
New Land Bond: Forest
(GorgonEyed correctly guessed where I was going with this, so you get to pet the nice leaf-ant as a bonus.
Also, note that the boost to Taylor's bug control range was only momentary, a part of whatever happened to her. And yes, this is post-Mending.)Opening Hand 1.5
[X] Go with Ceadra. You have questions, she has answers.
Following Ceadra is really the only option. Sure, you might be able to puzzle something out on your own, but you shouldn't turn down free information when it's offered.
Still, getting to her home is something of a slog. You aren't trudging through any more water, but the ground isn't much more solid. It's rather exhausting, and you can't spare the breath for chitchat along the way. You're definitely going to need to get into better shape before your debut back home.
Thankfully, Ceadra seems to live on a small hill. The climb is a bit taxing, but at least it's on dry ground. At the top is another tree, several dozen feet tall. Several of its branches form an overhang. Beneath that seems to be a single wall taken from a witch's cottage, enlarged to the treefolk's scale. Various dried herbs, flowers, and roots dangle from strings hanging from the lower branches. Several shelves are carved into the trunk, filled with bowls and tools. An enormous, honest-to-God cauldron, complete with stirring rod, sits on the ground.
After giving you a few moments to take it in and catch your breath, Caedra speaks up. "To answer your question, this tree doesn't talk." You can hear her smile.
You can also feel your own blush. "I figured as much." You look for a subject change. "You've heard rumors of humans? What do they say?" After all, dimension hopping is a big deal on Earth Bet.
"Right to business, then?" Ceadra moves to her work area, threads the fertilid through one of the empty ropes, and secures it. You can't help but think of tightening a noose. "Well, I haven't heard much. Much of it's been passed down for generations, even among the giants, long-lived as they are. Hard to tell where the facts end and the stories begin."
You shrug. "Well, we've got the real thing here. We can test it out, see what holds."
She nods. "Aye, I suppose we can. The tales speak of great beings who perform feats of which I cannot even conceive. They can do damn near anything they want to. They only hurt when they want to. They only die when they want to. And you can probably guess what they look like."
"Whatever they want to?" You sure wish you had that power.
"Knew you were a clever one. I never had a name for them until now. Most of my kin seemed to think it might attract their attention." Ceadra smiles, and it feels more genuine than any you've seen from her before. "Doesn't seem so bad to me."
You have the distinct feeling that "human" isn't the right word for whatever she's talking about. With one exception. "Scion?"
"Hmm? Scion of who?"
"Most humans, even most parahumans, aren't anything like that. Eidolon comes close, but the best fit is named is Scion. He just… appeared one day, out of nowhere." Realization dawns. "Just like I did here."
Ceadra purses her fingers and ponders this. "I've never been one to believe in coincidence. This Scion of yours will likely know far more about you than I."
You certainly weren't expecting that. "What? No! I can't just ask Scion for lessons!"
"And why not?"
"He's saving people twen—" You realize you don't know long days or weeks are here. "Every hour of every day! He never stops! He could be anywhere in the world at any given moment!"
"Ah. Well, yes, that might be a problem." Ceadra's eyes turn to the sky as she thinks. "Well, I suppose I could teach you a few tricks, but I can't guarantee my magic will get along with you. You're more river weed than tree from what I felt of your little outburst earlier."
You sit near her roots. "I'd like to learn at least enough to understand what you meant by that."
She shrugs. "As you like. Hope you don't mind if I work as I talk." That said, she grabs one of the bundles of herbs above her and drops a pinch—almost a handful for you—into the cauldron. "Alright. Firstly, whatever you did just before I called out to you, it… how to explain? You felt the magic when you went and used that fertilid, yes?"
You nod. "Getting a memory implant is hard to forget. Kind of by definition."
She begins to stir. Despite the lack of a fire, something starts bubbling lazily. "And you remember the feelings you got that went with those memories?"
"Not in any way that makes sense. The smell of spider webs and the sound of pollen."
Ceadra stiffens for a moment. "Er, yes." She resumes stirring, perhaps a bit more vigorously than before. "In time, you'll understand what it all means, but I can at least tell you what to look for. There's a magic for every sort of folk in Lorwyn, but they all stem from the same five.
"Treefolk magic, for example, has three parts to it: the branches, the trunk, and the roots. The branches reach up towards the light. They are many and thin, but they have one uniting and unbreakable purpose. The trunk is the strong pillar that feeds and supports. The roots reach down into the darkness, doing what's nasty but necessary." She grins and grabs a fungus that twitches in her grasp. "That'd be my specialty." She drops the fungus into the cauldron. There's a faint shriek.
"Uh… huh." You start looking for termites. Just in case.
"The branches are white magic, bright and noble. The trunk is green magic, growth and raw power, something I felt in you."
As she names the colors, you think of the stars in the between-space. "And the roots are… black magic?"
"That they are. And I can tell from your tone you have a problem with that." Ceadra's tone is more disappointed than anything, though there's a hint of the disappointed teacher there as well. "The black may not be pretty, but it is necessary. All things must die and rot and feed the new growth."
"I thought you said the humans of legend only died when they wanted to."
She barks out a laugh. "Says the one who said only that Scion of yours matched the legends!"
You gulp. You do not like how the subject is drifting towards your mortality. "So, the other two colors?"
"Ah, yes." She bends down, scoops up some of the soil, and adds it to the pot. "Red and blue, fire and water. For my kind, one is anathema and the other's too much of a good thing. You have the latter, likely why you're such a clever one."
"Because of water magic?" You don't see the logic there, and you haven't noticed any water-based powers beyond the amazing ability to land in a swamp.
"It's a bit more complicated than that. Those five colors encompass everything. Blue's not just water. It's air and the mind and all manner of slippery things."
Ceadra stops stirring, retrieves the fertilid, and drops it into the cauldron. Whatever's in there takes on a yellow glow. "Now, I don't know about you, but after all this talk, I could use a drink. Care to join me?"
You shake your head. "I saw what went into that."
She sighs. "So close-minded, the youth of today." She moves towards the of the shelves in the trunk.
You blink. You had been using bugs to examine the area when you realized that termites only eat dead wood, and some of your fliers have stumbled upon something odd. You slip away and around the massive tree, trying to line up sight and bug sense.
There. You can make out the cockeyed peak of the collapsed roof. There's a ruined hut up in the branches, one far too small for Ceadra. And, judging by the pupating maggots, at least one corpse.
"Taylor?" The treefolk in question comes into view, carrying a bowl full of the glowing potion. "There you are, child. What's gotten into you?"
[ ] "Nothing. Just needed to stretch my legs."
[ ] "What is that up there?"
[X] "What happened to whoever used to live here?"
[ ] "I'm leaving."
[ ] Write in
You learned about the colors of magic!
Status Unlocked: Primary Color Affinity
(Hopefully final word on Worm vs. Magic: I'll be judging matters on a case-by-case basis. Note that Taylor, intersection between the two that she is, will be weird by the standards of either.
In any case, given the staggering consensus, I thought I'd crank this one out early. Also, I hope I managed to make the exposition dump tolerable.)