Opening Hand 1.6
You definitely want answers, but you take a moment to consider how to phrase the question. Ceadra's been kind to you in the time you've known her… but that's been less than hour. If a friend of years can turn on you...
Screw subtlety.
[X] "What happened to whoever used to live here?"
"Noticed that, did you?" She shakes her head. Er, trunk. "Should've known you weren't that foolish. Still, thank you for humoring an old woman as she rambled on."
This is sounding uncomfortably like a villain speech. You poke at your energy reserve. It feels mostly restored, and you can also feel the same omnipresent essence as before. This place is different enough to draw upon. "Please answer the question, Ceadra."
She shrugs. "As you like, though I don't think you'll like the answer." She gives a surprisingly caring look. "Still, it'd do you good. Maybe toughen you up a little."
You have a hunch. "I think I'd rather find out for myself then." Before Ceadra can ask what you mean, you reach out to the land.
Playful. Hedonistic. Anarchic. Reckless. Insatiable. Madcap.
And yet...
It demands something of you, something you don't understand and can't provide. There's something like disappointment, and the connection does nothing to bolster your energy supply. Not immediately. You feel the potential grow, but you have nothing more to work with.
You try to understand what just happened. "You… you must have done something to the former residents."
Ceadra sighed. "Let's not mince words, Taylor. I killed them."
You suspected. No, you knew. But still, to hear it from her… "Why?"
"I needed a new place, and they were already on their last legs."
Not what you were expecting. "What?"
She rolls her eyes. "They were boggarts, Taylor. They multiply like rats and die even faster. Some of them kill themselves, just to find out what it's like to die. This particular warren had taken such a fascination with death and were killing themselves faster than they could replenish their numbers. I just sped the process along a little." She raises the bowl meaningfully. "They even thanked me for it. They'd never tasted a treefolk's brew before."
You take a step back from her. "So earlier…"
"Well, I may not be a boggart, but I do have some curiosity. I wanted to see what would happen when one of the fabled ones tried my recipe. If half the legends were true, the worst you'd do is critique the spices."
You can feel yourself shaking. "How many?"
She blinks and pauses. It's like she'd never even considered that. "Couldn't have been more than a dozen. As I said, they were on their last legs. And really, Taylor, they were boggarts. Nasty things. A bunch of them ruined my last workshop."
She keeps talking, but you aren't listening. This goes beyond bullying. This is just evil. You're a hero. You feel the need to do something, and your powers respond in kind. The question is, what do you need to do?
[ ] Show Ceadra the error of her ways.
[ ] Visit justice upon her.
[ ] Honor the passing of the fallen.
[ ] Get thee hence from this forsaken place.
[X] Write in
New Land Bond: Auntie's Hovel
(First die roll of the quest! This was basically to determine whether Ceadra would bullshit you or just admit it, and to what degree. A 98 pretty much meant full, unvarnished truth. Still, this is Lorwyn, so you at least got a warning.
Ceadra, as you may have determined, is a Thorntooth Witch. Lorwyn's monoblack Treefolk are creepy. You have the poison-peddling witch, the magical masochist, and the serial killer who views his actions as pruning weeds. This is a case where the necromancer may be the least disturbing member of the group.)
Opening Hand 1.7
[X] Give Ceadra the benefit of the doubt. Accept her answer, but proceed with caution.
Your power cries out for release, spurred on by your horror and indignation. Energy patterns—screw it, call them what they are—spells flicker through your mind faster than you can process them, magic to distort, dismiss, destroy…
No. You clamp down on your power, rejecting all of the impulsive ideas. You don't have the right to do this. She's not a human. She's not even an animal. You don't think any ethicist in all of human history ever considered the question of a sapient plant. You can't judge her fairly. Really, it's not your place to judge her at all. You can't get any further outside any jurisdiction you might have than where you are now.
And if you keep telling yourself that, maybe you can accept it.
Still, you can't completely divorce Ceadra from her deeds in your own mind. There's probably still a lot to learn from her, but you can't bear to be near her right now. Just thinking about doing so brings to mind the harmless mob who indirectly welcomed you to this world.
Really, it's best if you just walk away from the situation for a while, preferably in a direction she can't follow. Just because you're giving Ceadra the benefit of the doubt doesn't mean you trust her any further than you can throw her. Furthermore, your barely averted outburst seems to have paved the way for you. It'll just take a little more effort and you'll be on your way.
You ignore the tears running down your face and smile at Ceadra, who seems oddly surprised. And closer. "Thank you for what you've taught me. I may be back soon."
Then your power wraps around you, and when it unfolds, you're floating in the space between spaces.
Whatever this place is, it's just as incomprehensible as before, and as hostile. You look down and see the mud caked on your pants and shoes break away, torn and twisted until it's indistinguishable from the background.
It strikes you that proving your abilities is going to be tricky when any evidence is annihilated in transit. You're going to have to think about that once you're somewhere that isn't trying to eat you. For now, though, you need to pick a new destination, preferably home.
As you survey the stars, picking out the ones you recognize, you feel something pulse through you from behind. You turn just in time to see the black star behind you turn bright yellow.
Where do you go?
[ ] The white star
[ ] The blue star
[ ] The red star
[ ] The green star
[ ] The bronze star
[ ] The silver star
[ ] The gold star
[ ] Back to Lorwyn
(Oh, Spacebattles. I let you pick how the awesome magic of a planeswalker scorned will manifest itself, and you decide to play it safe. Never change, you guys.
In any case, this is, naturally, the last section of Opening Hand. After all, it's the seventh one. Next time is an interlude, then the second arc.)
Interlude 1
"And really, Taylor, they were boggarts. Nasty things. A bunch of them ruined my last workshop, and it was no easy feat to chase off those elves, let me tell you. Why…" Ceadra paused. There was a change in the air, and bringing her attention back to the present told her what.
The "human" stood stock still, eyes wide and unseeing, Then she began to shake. Her body flickered with teal faerie fire and her eyes glittered with many facets. Suggestions of wings formed in the wisps of her power, now dragonfly, now butterfly, now strange forms Ceadra had never seen.
The witch watched, prepared to defend herself if it came to it, but nothing happened. Taylor began to cry tears of raw mana, and the teardrops took wing and flitted about her like the courtiers of fabled Oona. She rose into the air on her almost-there wings, her toes dangling a kith's hand above the ground.
Ceadra sighed. She had seen a few lose control of their magic in her many years, and that was a few too many. "I liked you, Taylor," she said. "I'll make this quick." She drank her potion, sweet as new love and bitter as regret. Warmth flooded her limbs, so much she felt she might burst into flame. But her body held as she knew it would, and she approached the human, claws poised to strike the child down before she did herself in. Ceadra had never known one who used the green and the blue together, but she knew it couldn't be pretty.
Besides, there'd be some truly unique reagents in that body. It'd be a terrible shame for them to be ruined by uncontrolled magic.
But before Ceadra struck, Taylor smiled, mana writhing like worms between her teeth. In a voice like a million buzzing pests speaking as one, she said, "Thank you for all you've taught me. I may be back soon."
With that, her strange human magic erupted, teal-glowing wings of all descriptions bursting from her back to wrap her up like a spider's meal. Even as the witch watched, the cocoon shrank. No, it receded, moving far from anything Ceadra could understand.
That wasn't an uncontrolled surge, Ceadra realized. That ludicrous outpouring of mana was intentional and directed. The witch then considered what she'd taught the strange girl: the fundamentals of her magic, her favorite recipe, the fastest way to solve a living problem…
For a moment, Ceadra Foulapple, witch of the Mudbutton Fens, knew both humility and fear.
Then, in what was destined to be the last time the statement would be so dramatic, the sun set.
(Scroll down to read 2.1)Parley 2.1
[X] The blue star
You mentally file away the color-changing plane for now. Definitely something to investigate should you determine that it isn't something that just happens out here. The other stars seem to be the same colors and in the same positions as you remember them, but the change frequency could be a lot longer...
Again, a mystery for another day. For now, you need to pick somewhere else to visit.
The green star still appeals to you on a visceral level. This time, knowing the colors of magic and your relationship with them, you think you know why.
That brings your attention to the bronze star. The "Olympic stars," as you find yourself thinking of them, don't mesh with what Ceadra told you. You wonder how they fit in to all of this.
And, as you consider the point of light, you swear you can feel something look back.
You quickly put Lorwyn between you and it. Thanks, but no thanks, Nietzsche reference!
This puts you in the perfect position to consider the blue star. Blue star. Blue planet. Surely it can't be that simple?
Well, one way to find out.
Not getting knocked out by exiting a world does wonders for your endurance. The itching has barely intensified by the time you're close enough to make out details in the outside. And when you do...
Holy shit, you were right. Earth glitters before you. Which is actually kind of weird, because while you got a good view of a lot of Lorwyn, it wasn't from much higher than the treetops. Also, if this indicates all the possible places where you could end up...
No. You can't delay this. Just thinking about how Dad will worry...
Planeswalk Accuracy: 66/100. Two out of three ain't bad.
You press your hands against the skin of the universe, focus on home, and ask to come in. Your answer is a blue rush, growing greener until it's what's becoming a familiar shade between the two.
Landing: 21/100. Well, you didn't break anything
The light unfolds, and once again you fall about a foot, landing ass-first in something wet. You really hope this doesn't become a trend.
The good news is that you recognize this particular something wet. You're on a bit of beach in the Boat Graveyard, which means several things: you can direct your reentry, you're almost certainly on Earth Bet, and you know how to get to your house from here.
A shiver reminds you of a few other relevant facts: it's January, you're not dressed for the weather, and you're sitting in soggy sand. You rectify the third one easily enough, but the others are out of your control right now. For all of Winslow High's many, many faults, at least it has central heating. Being skinny as a rail isn't helping either, nor is the sun setting behind the city.
It strikes you how incredibly stupid it would be for you to get superpowers and magic, only to die of hypothermia. You don't plan on letting that happen. But how should you go about avoiding it?
[X] Look for a pay phone to call Dad for a pickup.
[ ] Take the bus back home.
[ ] Experiment with your powers.
[ ] Just look for somewhere warm for now.
[ ] Write in
(Welcome home! It's kind of cold. Stunts are recommended for the third choice. Otherwise, I'll just roll a die to see how well it works.)Parley 2.2
[X] Look for a pay phone to call Dad for a pickup.
You admit that the chance to use Brockton Bay's unofficial power testbed is tempting, and you'll definitely try to do so in the future. For now, you have a few higher priorities, though you do make note of your ability to sense the crabs in the bay. And control them. Can you...
No, no, you'll have plenty of time for all of that later. And you're honestly kind of worried about the bit of you that was wondering about using red magic to keep yourself (and everything else) warm. Right now, you need to contact Dad. For all you know, a year could've gone by while you were outside of the universe without you knowing it.
The Boat Graveyard isn't exactly the best part of town, but finding a working pay phone is fairly painless. Better yet, one of those coin-operated newspaper things is right next to it, and looking at the date on the Herald confirms that no weird time shenanigans have taken place.
Good. That's the "time" part of your worries taken care of. You're not too concerned about the "space" part. The presence of the Graveyard implies the presence of Leviathan... or an incredibly vindictive Dockworker's Association, in which case either Dad isn't in charge or this is some kind of weird evil mirror universe.
You spend the better part of minute laughing at the mental image of your father with a goatee. Yeah, you probably don't have anything to worry about there. You really needed that laugh, though.
At this point, you realize you're stalling. Also that your fingers are going numb, which proves to be a great motivator for biting the bullet.
You're honestly not surprised to find that you have no change. The contents of your pockets were probably reduced to their component atoms when you first left Earth. Thinking about it, you're probably lucky that your clothes survived.
...
You try your best to unthink that thought. You should probably stay on Earth for a while, so you can forget it before you next leave. Just in case.
Fortunately, you're not going to be stopped by an absence of quarters. Cell phones being the sensitive subject that they are, Dad made sure you knew all the alternatives. You press 0.
The response is pretty quick. "Operator."
"My name is Taylor Hebert. I'd like to make a collect call." You recite his work number.
"Just a moment, Taylor."
You smile as you hear the phone ring. That was easy enough. And a much nicer operator than you were expecting. You didn't recognize her accent, though. Something Canadian?
"Taylor?"
You don't think you've ever been happier to hear that voice. "Hi, Dad."
"Are you alright?" He sounds like he's ready to leap through the phone lines. He must've heard the tears you're holding back. "What happened? Were you mugged? Where are you?"
"I'm a few blocks away from the Boat Graveyard."
"What? Why?"
You hesitate. Somehow, you'd never considered that you might have to answer that. "It's... complicated. I'll explain everything when you get here."
Dad sighs, and you can feel the guilt forming a weight in your stomach. "I'm going to hold you to that, kiddo. I'll be there in fifteen."
You've only delayed the problem, but at least you have time to think. What are you going to tell him?
Special Vote:
Since there are far too many possibilities here, I'm opening the floor. You choose what to tell Danny, what to keep from him, what lies to tell, and in what order you tell it all to him.
Subjects to consider include but are not limited to:
• The bullying (That it's happening, who's doing it, how long it's been going on, etc.)
• Your powers (That you have them, what you can do, what you think you can do, etc.)
• The Multiverse (Where you've been, what you've done, who you've met, etc.)
• Plans for the future (School, cape affiliation, exploring other universes, etc.)
Sample submission:
Plan THE MAGUS QUEEN!:
[X] Speak using a swarm
[X] Powers
-[X] "Bow before me, mortal, for I am like unto a god!"
[X] Bullying
-[X] "No longer am I the timid creature who quailed before petty nuisances!"
-[X] Swear revenge on those who trespassed against you.
[X] Future
-[X] "From my living throne, I shall rule the Eastern Seaboard with an iron fist!"
-[X] Cackle evilly.
-[X] Conscript Uber and Leet as the first of many henchmen.
Note that you can either describe dialogue and actions or use Taylor-spoken statements to describe the core of what you want to communicate. Furthermore, you aren't required to cover all four of the topics I mentioned, and you're certainly welcome to come up with your own. You can either propose a plan or vote for a pre-existing one. (You can vote for the sample, but I wouldn't recommend it unless you feel like cutting all ties with your old life, likely driving yourself somewhat insane.)
Bear in mind that Danny will interrupt at times, may not want to change the subject when you do, and can take only so many revelations before being overwhelmed. The more you try tell him, the less likely it is that you'll be able to get to the lower priority stuff now.Parley 2.3
[X] Plan Noliar
By the time Dad pulls up, you think you have something. You also think your arms are going to fall off. You've never been quite so happy to see that beat-up pickup trick, springing inside the moment you hear the door unlock. The heater is manna from heaven.
"Good God, Taylor, what happened?"
Right. You can try to become one with the lovely, lovely warmth later. You have a few confessions to make. Thankfully, Dad hasn't moved the truck, since you haven't buckled up yet. "D-d-don't start driving, y-yet, Dad." Stupid chattering. "I, I…" Deep breath, Taylor.
God, his face. This is exactly why you didn't want to tell him about the bullying for so long. This hurt that he knows he can't do anything about. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
You look away from him. You'll never be able to say anything if you're looking at that face. "No. This has to be said, Dad." Another deep breath. "I… I got powers today. I'm a parahuman. That's how I ended up out here."
The hug is kind of awkward, given the positioning, but you lean into it as best you can. "I guess you're going to want to join the Wards, then." Dad sounds resigned to the idea.
A bit ahead of when you wanted to bring it up, but you were prepared for this. "Not necessarily."
Dad sit backs and looks at you like you just asked him what water was. "You don't want to be a hero?" He tries to hide it, but you can pick up the hint of relief in his voice.
You shrug. "Well, I do want to help people, but first I need to figure out just what I can do. I may be able to do more good running a business than fighting crime."
He sags in his seat. "Taylor, don't think I want you to give up on your dreams, but you have no idea how happy I am to hear that." He smiles. "So, what can you do?"
You fold your arms. "It's… kind of a weird grab bag. For one, I can sense and control insects, spiders, crabs… anything with a simple enough brain, I guess, though that's one of the things I want to test. Then there's the one that got me to the Graveyard without a jacket."
You look up as you put your thoughts in order. "I move between worlds. Not different Earths, more like different universes, ones that work a lot differently. The place I went to was like a fantasy novel, full of little goblin things and talking trees and evil witches. Actually, those last two were the same person."
"An evil talking tree witch?"
You shake your head. "I know, it sounds crazy."
Dad pats you on the shoulder. You turn to him and see a warm grin. "Taylor, you're smiling for the first time I've seen in more than a year. As long as you're okay, I don't care if you went to a tea party with a jabberwock." He frowns a bit. "But why did you come back where you did?"
"Well…" You feel your smile strain. "There's also somewhere between here and the fairy tale land. It's literally indescribable. I can't stay there long, and the only things I can make sense of while I'm there are the worlds I can enter. Even then, they're just colored stars." You fold in on yourself a little. "I was lucky to find Earth on the second try. I was trying to get home, but I ended up on the beach. I think I can improve my aim, and I'm pretty sure moving between worlds is just the tip of the iceberg. Again, practice."
Dad leans back in his chair and huffs out a breath. "Well, kiddo, we'll get through this together." He reaches for the ignition.
You don't want to, but you have to. "There's… one more thing."
"Another power?"
"No. It's…" You have to drag the words out of yourself. "Well, you know school hasn't been good for me lately."
He just nods, his sorrow clear.
"Well, it's all because of three girls. And…" Your gut clenches. Damn it, telling your father the truth shouldn't be harder than traveling between universes! "One of them," you choke out, "is Emma."
"Emma?" Dad echoes. "Emma Barnes?"
"I don't know why." You sniff. Your eyes are watering. "She's been a completely different person since high school started. She and Sophia and Madison have been making my life a living hell ever since."
The engine starts. You blink. "Dad?"
He glares at the road like it personally offended him, and his hands have the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip. "Buckle up, Taylor."
You do so, then wipe your face with one hand. "We're not going home, are we?"
"No." Dad shifts into drive. "We're going to paying the Barneses a visit."
What do you do?