Base Status
The Heap - Current Upgrades:
Tinkertech Castle
Friend or Foe Barrier
Friend In Need
Simple Shikigami Network
Current Energy: 5
Current Training: Crystallized Wisdom (5/10) - (7/10)
[Multiversal Emulator] / Emmy
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"F-four?" Taylor asks hesitantly, wincing but refusing to fully shut her eyes as she stares pleadingly at you through the lenses of the Crystallized Wisdom.
Presently, you are in the Hebert's living room, patiently allowing your Master to try and guess how many fingers you are holding out - behind your back, of course.
Now, an interesting point about this particular Noble Phantasm, is that it does not pull information from nowhere. Your Master does not simply look through the Crystallized Wisdom, get given all relevant information, and then parse it. All of that does happen, but the mechanism by which it operates is important to note. Conceptually, the Crystallized Wisdom, is all the knowledge and wisdom of the dragon you killed, condensed into physical form. All the information it provides comes from a viewpoint. To wear the Wisdom, is to look through the eyes of Fafnir, to behold all that he would see, to partake in all his insights.
And Dragons, whatever else they may be, are ancient, powerful, and above all - smart. Comparing the mind of one of those things to the mind of a human is like... well it's like comparing a Shard to a Human.
So in order to determine how many fingers you are holding up, your Master must first identify what information could feasibly provide that information. Then she will have to pick that out of all the information the Wisdom are not doubt bombarding her with. Then she will have to interpret it. From long experience you know there are a variety of ways to go about this. The simplest would be to examine the visible section of your forearm to see what muscles are currently being flexed.
"Incorrect. Three." You answer kindly, smiling at the constipated look Taylor gets on her face in response.
Currently her success rate for these little games of yours is probably something like six successes for every ten attempts, with two of this six mostly being pure luck and guessing.
"This sucks. Can't we just fight or something, and the winner gets the annoying glasses?" Taylor says with a pout, finally pulling the Noble Phantasm from her face.
You smile wryly, not just at the vaguely hopeful expression on your Master's face, but the eager look Nemesis is sending you from behind her, where she has just appeared hanging off Taylor's back.
"No... no I don't think that's likely to help now is it?" You point out in amusement as you stick your hand out, palm up, so your Master can return your glasses to you.
"No..." Taylor grumbles, rubbing at one temple in aggravation.
To say your Master finds the Wisdom tedious and somewhat pointless as far as powers go would be an understatement. To her mind, she can achieve most of what the Wisdom can using some applied magic. The problem is, in order to apply magic to a problem you have to both notice the problem, and have the time to create the necessary spell work and tools to enact your solution.
Both things the Wisdom are supposed to help with.
" 'Kay but, can we fight anyway?" Nemesis asks, still sounding hopeful. Your smile begins to strain at the edges.
"That feels... distinctly unwise." You hedge, taking a careful step around the couch so that you can cook your Master - who has an obvious headache - breakfast. You enjoy a good fight as much as the next person. But you highly doubt your Master would be happy with the type of anemic, held back spar you would need to be undergoing in order to have a battle anywhere inside the city limits.
And while your Master is exceptional at controlling her physical strength, her mystical might is... somewhat less disciplined.
"Aw come on! I'm bored! Taylor! Tell him you're bored!" Nemesis complains, flailing in a short lived tantrum that has her bonking your Master on the head repeatedly - something Taylor barely even responds to beyond rolling her eyes and sighing.
"Gonna get changed." She grumbles as she meanders up the stairs, Nemesis still struggling on her back like a monkey.
You manage to make eye contact with the sword spirit as she ascends, just in time for her to rudely stick her tongue out at you - and then return to complaining to your Master that she is bored.
Taylor Anne Hebert / Nexus
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011
Winslow High School, Brockton Bay
She approached the school that day knowing something was going to happen that day. Even without her previous days declaration - which she could admit in retrospect, she was very embarrassed by - there was just something in the air that day.
She tried to ignore the way other people threw furtive gazes at her when they thought she wasn't looking. She... sort of wasn't, really, but her Thinker power registered it as enough to provide her options to respond with, which meant she was just as aware of them as if she had been paying attention.
She didn't mind the sudden return of scrutiny. This would be the third time the school had gone out of it's way to pay extra attention to her. The first, because she was the local punching bag. During Emma's time at the school, she had made it very clear that the first rung you had to climb to go up the social ladder was making Taylor's life worse in some capacity.
And well... most of the people she saw regularly had done just that.
The second time had been when they were all afraid she was going to go Carey and murder all of them. She'd be lying if she said she never considered it, but only once or twice, and always with an immediate feeling of revulsion at the thought.
...The intrusive thrum of her Combat Thinker power didn't count.
And finally now, her third time in the limelight. Because she was 'pretty' now, apparently. She didn't know what to think about that. She had looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't think she looked any different. Certainly, she looked like she had been to a spa or salon of some kind, her hair now required approximately zero combing, her face was clear of even the hint of any kind of acne or blemish, along with a host of other minor alterations - but they didn't fundamentally change her. She could, in her own mind at least, have gotten a similar affect by just spending a bunch of money on looking good.
So was she really prettier now, than she had been in the days when she was spat on and derided for being an ungainly stick of a girl?
She wasn't sure that was the case.
Unfortunately, everyone else disagreed. They disagreed vehemently.
Which is how she found herself gently banging her head against her locker door that morning before first period, already exhausted from the focus being placed on her.
'I could -' Emmy began to say but she cut him off.
'No killing anyone.' She replied reflexively.
'...I was going to say 'create a distraction' but I suppose if you squint at it, murder would technically fulfill that criteria.' He responded to her dryly.
She groaned. At this point, she had generally come to think that the people Emmy became followed sort of a pattern. The stronger someone was, the less likely they were to have even the vaguest inkling of a moral compass. That was a pattern that seemed largely borne out until Sigurd had appeared. On his own, and had he been a normal human, the man could easily qualify as a member of the Triumvirate, if not rank above them. However, he was also unfailingly polite and friendly. Which was why she had to frequently remind herself that he wasn't a psychopath.
She was just about to go ahead and ask Emmy for that distraction when she felt a presence behind her and turned around to find a nervous looking boy wearing a grey hoody and tattered jeans awkwardly waiting to garner her attention from... well way too close. If he had been even vaguely threatening she might have accidentally moved to dismember him well before this, but as it was, he was such a non entity to her thinker powers ability to detect threats that it had just ignored him.
Which was just sad, given that it responded to just about everything, even just neighborhood cats.
"...Can I help you?" She asked, throwing on her patented fake smile and darting a look around the hallway, noting she only had a few minutes before she had to be in homeroom.
This happened to her with some regularity, although it had quickly slowed to a crawl once the school had acclimated to the new normal. In particular, when the... ugh... she hated the name so much... the Panda Gang had sprung up. Despite her best efforts, it simply wasn't possible to completely eliminate bullying. She wasn't omniscient. So now and then, someone who knew she took a dim view of such things would seek her out to ask for help.
She usually did. Sometimes she got someone who - in not so many words - basically asked her to murder their tormentors though, in which case, she had a quick talk with the bullies, then reported the entire problem to a teacher. She didn't trust or like any of the teachers in this place besides Mrs. Knott, but they typically jumped to deal with problems she brought to there attention nowadays.
The adults held onto fear of her for a lot longer than the kids had. Except for Gladly, who obliviously seemed to think she liked him for some reason.
"Um... do you play chess?" The boy asked her suddenly, drawing her up short and causing her mask to slip slightly, as she stared at him slightly befuddled.
"...A little?" She answered hesitantly, old instincts and habits kicking in as she immediately started trying to spot the incoming prank.
The boy immediately brightened at her answer then spoke, in a much louder, more excited voice than he'd been using until that point.
"Great! I challenge you to a game of chess!" He declared loudly.
What. That wasn't what- she in no capacity had implied- why would-
She couldn't help it. Started laughing. Quietly at first, then louder, until she was basically braying like an ass in the middle of the hallway. Putting a hand on the boys shoulder - who's name he had never bothered to provide her - she petered off into a light chortle.
"Oh... hah... wow. I really didn't mean it that way. No offense. I'm sure you're very nice." She told him, shaking her head. That last part was a lie. Pretty much any student who had been at the school for any period of time during her bullying was most certainly not anyone she thought kindly of. But she figured laughing in his face was embarrassing enough without her insulting him.
"I- I thought-" He began to splutter, his face turning cherry red.
"Read it in a book, thought you could get my respect by outwitting me, then go on a whirlwind romance?" She asked, cutting him off.
He nodded mutely in response.
"Good effort I guess. But this isn't really outwitting me. I'm not a genie, you can't rules lawyer me." She said, pausing when the bell rang overhead, signalling the start of classes.
"Anyway. Keep trying. Just uh... not with me." She apologized awkwardly, quickly darting away.
[That poor boy.] Ozma noted in pity.
'To a fallen warrior.' Emmy intoned gravely.
'Boys.' She thought, rolling her eyes and putting the entire thing out of mind. She had to get to class after all. Stupid attempts to trick her into dating someone didn't negate that.
[Multiversal Emulator] / Emmy
Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
'Today's the day' Your Master declares to you as you step through her Gap into the Heap.
'...What?' You ask in pure confusion.
"Today's the day!" She repeats out loud, yelling into the Garage. Trainwreck immediately whirls around with a wide smile on his face.
"Today's the fucking day?!" He yells boisterously.
"Todays the day!" Your Master agrees.
"Fuck yeah! Oh uh- is Emmy around?" Trainwreck cheers before pausing and glancing around. You make yourself corporeal in response to the question, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the way your Master becomes suddenly pleased that you are being addressed directly instead of through her. She's very adamant that you are an individual and not just her projection. It can be... awkward... at times.
"Yes?" You ask curiously, darting a looking between the two.
"Small Menace was around earlier. I think she might have stolen one of my show pieces." He tells you with a lazy shrug.
You freeze. Blink once. Glance around the room in search of the missing piece of Tinkertech Weaponry. You immediately spot a gap in the endless array of scrapyard weapons where what would be a Dagger for Trainwreck once was, but to Aisha would probably qualify as a short sword.
"And... you let her take it?!" You nearly screech. You don't think you've ever felt quite so frantic as this Emulation.
"Eh. She said it was for self defense and shit. Besides, you taught her how to use the thing." Trainwreck says, casually pushing a pile of metal to the side so he can pas by it to reach Taylor.
"I taught her how to hold it and not stab herself! You gave her a sword with a buzzsaw in it!" You yell in dismay.
"Hey look, she's basically fucking living in the attic at the Dojo. She ain't gonna hurt no one." Trainwreck tells you seriously. That... well it sort of calms you down at least.
It also worries you. You were under the distinct impression that Aisha would have gone home at some point after your last conversation. Apparently, you were wrong. Which leads to the next most obvious question; has she been going to school? Do her parents know where she is? You are a legendary hero from myth - a preteen girl shouldn't be this capable of giving you an ulcer.
Turning, you can see Taylor giving you a considering look, and can already tell what she is about to say, so you quickly get out ahead of the problem.
"We kept Jamie!" You point out, not quite... petulantly... but pretty close. Your Master's eyebrow goes up in the patented Hebert look of disbelief and accusation. Like someone's mother having just caught them stealing a cookie from the jar.
"I'll talk to her. I promise." You state resolutely, which seems good enough for your Master, because she only spends a few more seconds staring at you before mentally shifting gears back to her original topic of excitement.
"Right! To the Wardstone!" She declares, marching through the Castle like a woman possessed, eventually pausing on the way past the Workshop and poking her head through the door.
"Mem! Come do fun magic stuff with me!" She yells excitedly at the smaller girl. You here a sudden clattering, then the squawk of a bird being summarily woken up, and then the Shikigami quickly steps around the corner to walk next to you, Taylor, and Trainwreck, her hair a disheveled mess that Evil Dinah makes worse by more or less nesting in it.
"What will we be doing?" Mem asks in her usual neutral voice, tinged only slightly by excitement.
"We- actually before that. We can't keep calling you Evil Dinah. For one, I don't know you're actually evil, and for another, it's a bit of a mouthful." Taylor says as the group continues to move forward, gesturing at the bird on Mem's head.
"You've been calling me Evil Dinah? What the fuck is that? Why can't I just be Dinah!" The bird complains immediately, flapping it's wings in agitation. Mem cuts this line of complaint off by placidly lifting two hands overhead and pulling Evil Dinah down to eye level with herself.
"You are the ghost of a clone that has been turned into a bird." She points out, her tone not once changing from anything but conversational. She's just stating facts. Weird, weird, facts.
"...Yeah but-" Evil Dinah protests weekly, looking away from the cutely staring young girl.
"I think we should call her-" Mem states plainly.
[ ] Write-In
The group pauses for a moment to take that in, then as one shrugs and moves on from the topic, mostly ignoring the birds weak protests and demands to be merely called Dinah.
Eventually you it to the Wardstone, where your Master pulls Mem to her, to hover over the complex matrix of magics that have been layered upon ever since the Heap was created.
"Right. So. I've been saying this for a while but - I want a Wizard tower." She declares, gently pulling Mem's hands towards the stone and then placing her own on it.
"...Yes." Mem agrees almost immediately. You suppose she would. She's a Wizards Staff after all.
"Gonna build a big ass gun..." You can hear Trainwreck muttering behind you.
"M-master. Are there not more practical uses for your time? Better defenses? More space?" You jump in, realizing your Master might be about to do something simultaneously whimsical and terrifying.
Taylor gives you an almost pleading look when you are finished.
"I did have some ideas." Mem chimes in, earning a scandalized look from your Master. She blushes slightly but doesn't retract the statement.