Current Training: Weapon Proficiency 0/10 - 5/10
Current Energy: 11
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
(Taylor Hebert)
It was a perfectly normal Saturday.
She woke up at exactly five in the morning - per her usual. She glanced at Emmy, whose current emulation was such a heavy sleeper that she had a hard time fathoming how he had managed to wake up early to prank her days earlier. He was splayed out on her bed, body at an awkward angle that left him with his face pressed against the wall, and his arms bunched up underneath him in a manner that she would have probably found profoundly uncomfortable.
That too, was 'normal' for her.
Nemesis, who woke up at about the same time as she did but was rarely happy about it, grouchily propped herself up in the bed, shooting a sour look at Emmy, or rather, the holsters Emmy kept his firearms in, and paused for a moment to consider.
Taylor could tell pretty much immediately that the sword spirit was trying to decide whether or not to bite him. As much as Nemesis was - by most metrics and definitions - a psychopath, she still had a reasonable person buried in there somewhere. She loved Emmy as much as Taylor did, like the family he was, and so she wasn't rather pleased by having to see him getting cut in half twice yesterday.
So as much as she claimed to hate Emulations that used other weapons, Taylor doubted that hatred ran very deep.
More importantly, the decision to harass Emmy was - for both Taylor and Nemesis - quite normal.
[Can we talk now?] Ozma asked her politely.
He said it with the same tone of voice she'd imagine her boyfriend would use if he wanted to break up with her.
…if she had ever had a boyfriend.
And that, decidedly, was not normal.
'Sure. I've been thinking about it, and I think If I can flex it right, I can get the ferry to fly while letting it dock at leyline intersections to charge.' She thought blithely at him.
[Or you could get the plans for anti-gravity thrusters from Remnant, and make use of the mine beneath our feet.] Ozma opined pointedly.
'Yeah, but it's probably top secret or something anyway, right? And you know, I was wondering if I could get your help with setting up a barrier, because while I'm pretty good at it, I'm not 'ignore a nuclear warhead' good.' She proceeded, ignoring his statement.
[I will consider it, if you will return to Remnant.] Ozma repeated.
'I- are you just going to answer everything I say like that?' She asked bitterly, her shoulders slumping slightly as she observed Nemesis finally make her decision, then slowly creep across the bed to lunge at Emmy - who 'coincidentally' rolled over in a way that left the sword spirit to slam face first into the wall instead of him.
[The possibility exists, yes.] The ancient wizard in her head replied succinctly.
'Can it wait a little bit? Like… just a bit? A few hours- no, a day, even!' She rapidly tried to convince him.
Annoyingly, her least favorite power hummed along in the back of her head, rapidly filling in and expanding on plans to raise a nation, become a godhead, and take over the planet.
Somehow, she found her planning power more disconcerting than her combat thinker power, and that was saying a lot. There was a reason she almost never engaged the ability, except in the most minor of ways. It wasn't really all that good for fighting, or even figuring people out - but provided with a big enough problem, it was practically prophetic.
And the last thing she needed right now was to seem like even more of a prophet.
[If you must. I will be honest, I am not as pleased by the return of my people and the destruction of Salem as I thought I would be.] Ozma returned, sending along with the thought a pulse of fond exasperation.
She'd never had much interaction with her Grandparents, because her father's parents were dead, and her mother's parents hated her father. Still, she imagined having a grandparent constantly looking over your shoulder was about the best way she could describe Ozma's relationship with her. In the absence of a driving goal to work towards, he was prone to laconic or dry commentary and had a tendency to try and convince her to do things 'the right way', which more often than not translated to 'the old person way'.
'Tell me about it…' she grumbled back at him, halfway unintentionally directing the thought in his direction.
Emmy had woken up by now, and was playing a game of keep away with Nemesis, who was snarling like a feral animal as she leaped around the bed to try and catch him.
[I have often had occasion to ponder the meaning of my existence.] Ozma pivoted, changing topics.
Taylor lifted an eyebrow at that but otherwise chose to remain silent, moving to her dresser to try and trick it into spitting out a pair of sweatpants instead of a sundress or some other more traditionally girly attire.
She didn't hate wearing bright colors or dresses as much anymore, but she still preferred to be utilitarian about her outfits. She'd heard enough stories from Vicky about wearing a miniskirt while flying overhead to grasp that high speed movement and women's fashion didn't typically align very well.
[I realize that you don't ascribe to the concept of a higher power. I've seen your thoughts on the matter - even the Gods I have directly met and spoken to, in your own mind, you simply consider them 'godlike' in power - not true Gods.] Ozma continued, and she restrained an urge to sigh.
The dresser had spat out a yellow sundress and tights. Not ideal.
[However, I believe that I was out here to help you remember what it is to be human. I'm sure you realize that at the rate you accumulate power, you will eventually qualify in the same category of being as my own Gods. Who, I should add, would be very likely to create life and then abandon it.]
'I said I'd go back!' She bit back at him.
[I am aware. However, a touch of shame and humility can never go amiss.] Ozma stated smugly.
Taylor glowered down at her sundress before slipping it over her head and tugging it down.
Stupud ancient wizard and his stupid moral lessons and stupid reminders to be responsible. She was fifteen. She felt like she had a certain amount of allowance for bad decisions baked in. Even if she didn't have powers, or even if she just had different powers, she was sure she'd have made some mistakes by now.
So with this thought in mind. she defiantly whirled on Emmy, her various powers causing her dress to swirl artfully around her instead of flopping around messily, and pointed at her long time friend.
"You have to actually teach me something this morning or I'm going to order pizza for dinner-" she started, imperiously,
"I see no problem with this." He fired back, ducking under Nemesis.
"-and only get toppings you hate." She finished, ignoring his commentary.
She had to say, for as much of a lunatic as this version of Emmy was, his antics made the expression he made when you finally got one over on him particularly satisfying, if she did say so herself.
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
(Multiversal Emulator)
"You better not screw up my stuff. I got an organizational system going on here, and I don't wanna have to fix it." Trainwreck grumbles at you, as you carefully eyeball the space you have to work with.
Taylor shoots a pointed look at the multiple piles of seemingly random scrap, then turns an unimpressed look on Trainwreck.
"Organizational system?" She asks blandly.
"Yeah, I know where everything is 'cus I put it there, and I remember it 'cus I aint a dumb teenager. Organization." Trainwreck fires back.
Your Master squints at him.
"I feel like I should be offended." She says warily.
"That's 'cus I insulted you, but you had to think about it, 'cus you're a dumb teenager." Trainwreck responds smugly, shooting a shit-eating grin at her. She rolls her eyes then turns to you, where you are carefully lowering the doors to the garage and locking them in order to ensure no one accidentally stumbles into your training space.
"You're a bad influence." She accuses you.
"I prefer to think of myself as the ideal sexy role model." You return with a smile of your own. Now finished closing everything down, you turn and gesture loosely at the dozens of random pieces of weaponry lining the walls.
"Rules are simple, grab a random weapon, you have ten seconds to try to hit me with it, then you have to switch." You explain pleasantly.
"That's it?" Taylor asks suspiciously.
"I leave that explanation to my lovely mini-Master!" You say with a swift bow.
Nemesis - because even if she is helping that doesn't mean she likes it - takes the opportunity to pop out of nowhere and land on your back, using your bow as a platform to point angrily at your Master.
"I'm gonna sit on your shoulders and slap you on the top of the head whenever you miss!" She declares imperiously.
"What? Why? How does that help?" Taylor demands with some annoyance.
"Oh, it doesn't. It was just the only way she'd agree to let you touch another weapon." You say, tilting your head up to look at your Master but quickly angling it back down when Nemesis takes a step forward to put one foot on top of your head.
"Aren't I generous? I even let you fool around a bit! Praise me for my forbearance!" She demands.
When your Master sighs and turns to grab a weapon from the walls - it looks like a cross between an axe and a blunderbuss - Nemesis huffs and stomps her little foot on your head.
"Oh praise be to the great God-slaying blade Nemesis! May her beauty and power forever be among us." You say dryly.
"Hm, hm! I like that! Emmy, you have to say that everyday now! Twice–no, three times a day!" She cheers.
You and your Master sigh.
Trainwreck… Well, Trainwreck just laughs.
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
(Multiversal Emulator)
"Hey, small menaces, you in there?" You call out, rapping your knuckles against the door to the bedroom Mem shares with Mun.
The door quickly opens, and you find Mun standing in front of you - dressed in grey flannel pajamas, despite the fact that it is currently three in the afternoon.
"Sup. Taylor was looking for you guys. We gotta go deal with some stuff in another dimension. Do you wanna come with us?" You ask casually.
"Sure… Hey uh, before that…" she says, trailing off. You can't help but be suddenly very concerned about what she is going to say next. It isn't in Munin's character to be at a loss for words. She'd sooner speak genuine nonsense than not speak at all.
"Hey, don't trail off like that - I'm getting anxious!" You half joke. The tone is joking, but you are being entirely serious.
In the great big family of individuals your Master has more or less created from thin air, you like to consider Mem and Mun as your baby sisters. And woe betide anyone that hurts them.
Not that they can't handle themselves, but, you know, as an older brother, you feel like you have a divine right to meddle.
"Well–I don't know! She's been like this all day! I don't mind getting to stay home and play video games, but it's still creepy!" Mun huffs, stepping aside and beckoning you in.
As always, the sisters' room is almost perfectly split down the middle. One side a horrendous cramped mess of clothing and other small objects, not unlike a bird's nest, and the other, meticulously organized and arranged. Three new video game consoles take pride of place in the center of Mun's half of the room, as well as an obscenely large television, and stacks of video games tall enough to constitute their own portion of the room.
You lift an eyebrow at that.
Guess she decided against a pony, which is good, 'cus one of those would be pretty hard to hide.
Maybe you should take away that credit card, though - it's getting cramped in here, and you doubt your bird brain of a sister will think to stop buying stuff before it becomes unmanageable.
Perhaps guessing your current train of thought from the direction you are looking in, Mun quickly hops up, shifting to her bird form, and obscuring your vision by flying up into your face.
"She's just been sitting on the bed like that all day." She quickly squawks, drawing your attention back to Mem's side of the room, where indeed, the taciturn girl is laying on her back in bed, still wearing her pajamas.
"Is this why we didn't see you guys at breakfast?" you ask curiously. You hadn't thought much of it, at the time. Taylor has a tendency to gather the whole family up to eat in the mornings, but it isn't a sure thing, especially if some of them are busy or otherwise just prefer to sleep in.
She usually lets it go on weekends, at least. Mun gives the bird equivalent of a helpless shrug at your question, and you frown at her for a moment, before striding over to stand next to Mem's bed - Mun lands on your shoulder as you do so.
"Hey, you sick or something?" You ask, crouching down next to the bed so you are on eye level with the girl.
"I do not believe so." She states flatly, without turning to look at you - her stare remains firmly on the ceiling overhead.
"Then what's with this? Come on, we did good work yesterday! Haven't you always wanted to deal with your estranged father's creepy, goth, ex-wife?" You say with the beginnings of a grin that quickly fades as Mem answers you.
"Yes." She says succinctly, still not turning to face you.
"So… what's the problem, then?" You venture to ask.
"I do not feel better. I was born knowing my purpose, and I sought to achieve it by any means necessary. Now that I have, I do not know what is left to do." She says succinctly.
"People aren't born with a purpose." You say after a second to ponder the situation.
"You are correct. Apologies. I was made with a purpose in mind." Mem amends.
"Yeah, but you were born a month or two ago in the basement. Listen, kid, humans–we don't have that kind of thing. No one does. You think that Ozpin guy was born knowing what he was meant to do in life? You think Taylor does?" You point out.
"Irrelevant. They are people. I am a weapon." She responds, perhaps a touch irritably.
"Take it from a guy who's weapons are people - that's bullshit." You interject with perhaps a bit more force than you had intended. Perhaps it is the fact that you, Multiversal Emulator, are yourself essentially just a weapon that can think - but you reject this kind of thinking with every fiber of your being.
"...What then?" Mem asks. And her voice is small, and desperate. There is more emotion in those two words than you have heard from Mem in her entire life. You understand instinctively that she isn't just asking for the sake of the conversation. She genuinely wants to know what comes afterwards.
"I don't know. That's how people work. They aren't like Grimm-" or devils "- they aren't born with a purpose, and they aren't given one. Everyone has to make their own way in life. You make your own purpose. You do the things you enjoy. You protect the people you love. You chart your own destiny. That's what it means to be human." You explain firmly.
Perhaps some of your convictions, not just from this emulation, but from you yourself seep through, because Long Memory finally twists her head to the side to look at you. Her eyes are sunken - likely because she hasn't slept yet - and her expression is more annoyed than anything else.
"That is a very long winded way of saying 'figure it out yourself'." She accuses you.
"That's 'cus that's what it is. Seriously, ask your sister. Mun what's your purpose in life? How do you get through the day?" You say blandly.
"The hell should I know? I'm an abandoned clone. I wasn't even the intended effect of something like you are, stick-head. I'm like, three steps removed from anything anybody ever wanted or asked for. You were made a person on purpose. I was made by mistake, and brought back from the dead on a whim. I'm technically less than two months old." the bird on your shoulder snorts, as though explaining the tragedy of her life is an old hat that doesn't bother her at all. You frown at her description of the events leading up to her existence, and tentatively reach a hand up to stroke her avian hand, which she happily leans into.
"Life is what you make it. You're too young to be worried about that kind of stuff. Just enjoy screwing around with Aisha and your friends, doing insane magical crap, and being a kid. Sooner or later something will come up you think you have to do. That's just how life is." You explain gently.
"...I am thousands of years old." She returns with a pout, and you can't help but allow a faint smile to cross your lips.
"Yeah, but as far as being a person goes, you're only a bit older than your sister. Most humans don't start in on the existential crisis stuff until at least their thirties. Come on, there's nothing you can think of that you wanna do? Even just for fun?" You push.
"...I like magic." She admits slowly.
"See? There you go! Just… keep eating boogers or whatever it is kids your age do, and you'll be okay. Now, you wanna come help me convince a bunch of bird people that your Mom isn't God or what?" You finish, standing abruptly and snickering at Mun's squawk of annoyance at the sudden motion.
"Do you have to do that? Do you know how hard it is to balance on a moving object like this? Huh?!" Mun complains, turning to rapidly peck at the side of your head. It's harmless - definitely not done with enough strength to hurt you - but you can't help but lean away from the quick impacts and wincing.
Mem, for perhaps the first time since you walked into this room, perks up and levers herself upward.
"There's a rune for that." She offers helpfully.
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
Branwen Camp, Remnant
You, your Master and the kids all appear in the middle of the bandit camp.
No one ever specifically said it was a 'bandit' camp, but you can read between the lines well enough to grasp that.
You are here for two reasons.
One, to tell Raven Branwen that Salem has been dealt with - which means that anything she does after this, she's doing because she wants to, not for some 'greater good' or 'survival'.
Two, as per a conversation you had roughly five minutes ago;
'Hey, you think those girls and your sort of sister from another dimension are okay?' You ask curiously.
'Yeah, why wouldn't they be?' Taylor asks you quizzically.
'We kind of left them in the middle of a camp of - I assume - murderers and thieves.' You point out.
'...shit.'
"Really?" Your Master asks with an incredibly bored air about her as you appear, and suddenly dozens of weapons are pointed at you.
"I mean, I guess I respect the snappy response but, seriously, put those away before you get hurt." You say with an easy smile.
"It smells here. Don't you people have showers?" Mun asks, entirely unbothered by the dozens of men with guns pointed at her.
"Water Dust is expensive. They likely save it for potable water. I could probably make a shower with runes though." Mem offers thoughtfully, and with much more… expression than is common to her.
"We aren't making violent transient's showers." Taylor says dryly.
"I don't think they count as hobos if they have walls and stuff around their camp." You respond idly, as all four of you observe one of the bandits rush off to get Raven - who stomps out of her tent much more irate than the last time you saw her.
"You." She growls, her hand immediately going to her sword, before her demeanor relaxes, and she turns a more smug air on your Master.
"I take it you've already given up on foolishly dying to make a point?" She says, eyeing Mem and Mun as though trying to decide their exact monetary value as people. It's both creepy and unpleasant, and it would make you dislike her even if you didn't already hold her in the lowest esteem.
"What?" Taylor asks, briefly taken aback before shaking her head. "Oh, no, I already dealt with Salem. I just came to pick up Yang and the others." She says.
She says it with such absolute calm, and phrases it so much like an afterthought, that you can't help but snicker at the three and a half seconds it takes Raven to parse the sentence and fully understand it.
Then she scowls.
"A lie. Of course. I should have expected as much from one of Ozpin's ilk." She says with a snort and a dismissive wave. You can tell from the tension in her stance that she is prepared for battle, but at the same time, is visibly projecting calm apathy to her men.
For a woman who claims that strength is the only thing that matters, she is remarkably good at small group politics.
"My daughter and her friends have already left. I imagine they are safely back at Beacon by now. Such a waste of potential. Surely you understand-" She begins, as though to lecture your Master.
"Great, thanks, hope I never see you again." Taylor says bluntly, immediately turning and ushering the kids back through the Gap that deposited you here.
"I dunno, I'm thinking of visiting. I could make a habit of pissing off your alternate reality mom." You say with a shrug as the last person to enter the portal. Raven - who until this point almost certainly had no idea she was even tangentially related to your Master in any way - blinks once at your statement, but before she can comment you are already through the Gap.
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
Beacon Academy, Remnant
"Taylor!" You hear the call coming towards you almost as soon as you step free of the Gap again. There is a soft whoosh of air - one that, in retrospect, you are sure your Master is faking given her strength and durability - and then you witness the blond-haired Yang swinging Taylor around like a small child.
"I was so worried! Hey, are you still preparing to do that thing with the witch lady? She's real right? I started packing in case you needed help!" She blurts out after swinging your Master in a circle a few more times and then depositing her on the ground in the middle of the bedroom you have appeared in.
"I-" Taylor opens her mouth to respond, clearly unsure of how to deal with the sudden closeness and affection.
"I would like to note that I dislike the sudden uninvited presence of a man in my bedroom in the middle of the afternoon. It's highly inappropriate." The white haired girl - Weiss, you think her name was - states grouchily.
"Your objection has been noted." Ruby says with an exaggerated degree of faux seriousness that breaks down as soon as she lays eyes on Mem and Mun.
"Oh my gosh! People younger than me?!" She blurts out, rushing forward to dart around your sisters.
"I am technically thousands of years old." Mem points out.
"Ignore her. She's particular." Mun says with a snort.
"Are you training to be Huntresses too? Are you, like, alternate reality Huntresses? Are they called that where you come from?" Ruby rattles off, much to Mun's sudden distress.
"...I already handled the ancient witch queen thing yesterday. I just forgot to come back. There were some… complications…" Taylor says evasively.
"That why your hair is white? We could totally dye it! I'm fond of blond myself." The blond says, striking a pose.
"No, the–well, my hair is white now because my powers made me part demon but–that's not what the problem was." Taylor says with a slightly helpless shrug. Yang pauses in her self-important posing for a second, to squint at your Master at that.
"Part… demon." She says slowly.
"Yeah it's… there's a whole multiverse of weird stuff out there and there's something about sentient vending machines that I usually use to explain this, but–look, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm sorry for dragging you out to that camp yesterday. I was in a mood." Taylor says apologetically.
Yang mouths the words 'sentient vending machines' while Ruby continues to prod your sisters with rapid-fire questions about their given vocation, and Weiss observes the entire ordeal with the detached expression of someone used to all kinds of insane bullshit happening around them at all hours of the day.
"That's–don't worry about it. Besides, I got a new sister out of the deal! And I'm still the oldest and the hottest! Booyah!" Yang cheers eventually, clearly trying to change the subject. This time it is Taylor's turn to stare blankly at her. You can tell that no one in the room fully grasps anything your Master has said about the multiverse, but equally, you can tell that none of them really care all that much either.
"The hottest?" Taylor mutters to herself before shaking her head. "You don't have to… I know we don't really know each other." She says, loud enough to be heard now.
"Don't sweat it. Now I've got two baby sisters." Yang insists.
"I'm not really-" Taylor tries again.
"Hey, just because we don't have the same dad or mom doesn't mean we aren't sisters. Family is Family." Yang says with an iron determination that causes you to flinch slightly.
It's very clear that the lesson Yang derived from her mother probably wasn't the one she would have liked to impart.
"O…kay…" Taylor says slowly, still clearly on the backfoot.
Usually, she's the one confusing the people around her with new information. It's very obvious that she isn't accustomed to being on the receiving end of such.
"You mentioned a complication." Weiss finally interjects, drawing everyone back on topic.
"Oh. Right. I accidentally uplifted an entire civilization and now I have to go convince them I'm not God. I really don't wanna do it, though. Like, really, really, don't want to go back there." Taylor says, looking embarrassed.
"...oh, the horror." Weiss says in a flat tone of voice as though trying to convey either how little she believes that statement, or how little she sympathizes with it.
Probably both.
"Whiiiile I'm here though." Taylor says, changing the subject. "You know a bunch about mining Dust right? I found a bunch of it under my city. I'm pretty sure my company already bought the rights to it - I'll have to check - but I have no idea how to mine it safely. Do you think you-"
"Why Taylor, as the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, a teammate of both your sisters, and a lady of fine breeding and consummate skill, I would love to help you take excessive advantage of this hitherto unnoticed resource. How much Dust exactly?" Weiss says, suddenly seeming much more intense.
Well, that's one way to change topics.
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
The Slightly Less Dark Continent, Remnant
"Aaaand there's a village. How is there already a village?" Taylor asks with some dismay as you emerge into the sky over the continent.
Saying there is a village is something of a misnomer.
There are several, loosely connected villages, each of them growing at a pace you would consider absurd under normal circumstances. You wouldn't have been able to tell if your Master hadn't chosen to show up so far in the air, but the whole damn continent is already teeming with buildings, and the faint hints of greenery.
You had suggested to her that descending from the clouds probably wasn't a great look if she was trying to avoid claims of godhood, but the alternative was to open a portal full of nightmarish eyes in front of the people below, which had similar problems.
"It's been less than a day!" Taylor shrieks in dismay. She has Long Memory - in cane format as she cannot fly - in one hand, Mun on one shoulder, and you, grasped firmly in a bubble of air that your Master is absently manipulating.
"Didn't you say they were magic? If there were thousands of you, how long do you think it'd take to build a city?" Mun asks curiously.
"That's not the same!" Taylor huffs as she begins to quickly descend to the ground.
"I mean…" You hedge.
"It is!" Taylor insists.
As you descend, you begin to see great flocks of birds drifting through the sky. That wouldn't be entirely strange, except that you are reasonably certain every single one of those birds is a person. More so than even that, each 'flock' is dragging behind it - again, via magic - a variety of things. Some of them are dragging massive quantities of stone from one end of the continent to the other. Some appear to be lifting bundles of seeds or flowers. Yet others appear to be carrying livestock, or in some cases, just plain raw meat.
Remnant doesn't have the same systems of international shipping and codependence that Earth does. It couldn't, not with all the Grimm making it impossible to live outside of designated zones.
But by that same token, the planet has an unfathomable number of untapped natural resources, just waiting for someone enterprising and capable to take advantage of.
Like, say, someone who could fly, avoid the Grimm, and use magic to transport things most people would need heavy machinery to even lift.
You are not unnoticed as you descend. While your Master is using Onmyoudo to manipulate the air for her own gliding descent, formations of birds take up position to either side of her, darting ahead of her path to clear it of any other individuals who might not necessarily have noticed her arrival.
By the time you touch down on the ground in the center of what appears to be a fairly well established village - complete with stone walkways, stone houses, and a well at its center - there is a procession of people kneeling for her.
You suppose one perk of everyone being able to fly, is that you can get pretty much anywhere you need to in a hurry.
"I see you managed to put together clothing fairly quickly." Taylor notes to the woman leading the procession - the only person not kneeling. You vaguely recognize her as the woman you spoke with before leaving the day before, though that might just be because she is obviously carrying the dagger that was once Salem at her hip.
As much as your Master describes her as having clothing on, she is really just wearing what looks like the pelts of several animals stitched together. It isn't very glamorous, and not even a third of those present have clothing as of yet, but you suppose even magic can't speed up the production of worked goods like clothing.
Probably, anyway.
"We–I thought it inappropriate to greet you ungarbed, Nexus." The woman says, clearly nervous.
"Right… so…" Taylor begins awkwardly, idly setting Mem to one side so that she can return to her humanoid form.
The eyes of everyone present dart to the silver haired girl for a moment, but no one dares to comment.
"Wow, I really see what you mean about this. It's extremely awkward." Mun says with a shake and a ruffle of her feathers.
You can see in the woman's eyes that she wants so badly to ask who the hell Mem and Mun are. You can also see the odds that she actually does so.
Effectively nil.
"Be polite." Taylor mumbles absentmindedly to Mun, lifting a hand to stroke her avian neck. Then to the woman she says;
"I never got your name."
"This one is called Merida, Great Nexus." She responds immediately.
"Great. Merida then. Can we talk in private for a minute?" Taylor outs forth, then, as an afterthought adds; "And can everyone stop kneeling?"
Almost at once the entire group rises to its feet, and Merida makes a gesture that sends them off to do… whatever it was they were doing before you got here.
"Of course. I apologize but we do not currently have accommodations to fit one of your stature-"
"Any house will do." Taylor says immediately, interjecting before the woman can begin to genuflect at her.
"O-Of course." Merida stutters out, before wincing at the perceived mistake and turning sideways to gesture at one of the many stone huts lining the hastily made street you are on.
Your Master quickly nods at her, and your group follows her into the hut - which is sparsely furnished with a wooden bed frame, a mattress stuffed with what looks like leaves, and a smattering of other obviously magically crafted objects.
Merida - clearly unsure of where she should stand, or if she should sit - quickly maneuvers herself to be standing in one corner of the room, opening the door for Taylor to sit on her bed if she wanted to. She doesn't, but Mem and Mun do, with the bird girl shifting to her human form as she does so.
"How did you change your garb with you?!" Merida blurts out immediately, momentarily forgetting that your Master is present. Mun pauses to stare at her like she would at a particularly dimwitted student, and then smirks at her.
"When I change there's this… like, pulling feeling, like I'm being turned inside out, and I just sort of go like this and drag my stuff with me." Your deeply aggravating little sister says, making a bizarre grabbing motion with her hands as though that explains anything.
"...What?" Merida mutters at her in confusion.
"I brought her back earlier than you. She has had more time to practice." Mem explains neutrally.
Again, Merida does a double take, pivoting from Mun, to Mem, then back to your Master.
"I have very accomplished daughters." Taylor says dryly as the woman attempts to parse this new information.
Of course, because you are still in the middle of clearing up a series of comical misunderstandings, the joke goes rather over the poor woman's head, and she instead gets down on her knees and practically cracks her skull bowing to the ground instead.
"Apologies, great ones!" She bellows loudly. "I have shown you disrespect and-"
"Enough of that." You say on behalf of your Master who is entirely too creeped out by the behavior to do anything about it. Mem seems unphased by the behavior - likely too accustomed to how normal Brocktonians already treat your Master - but Mun sits up and preens like a peacock.
"Look, we came here because it's important that you understand that she's not a God. She's just a person, same as you." You say tiredly, marching over and pulling the woman to her feet.
"But- the things you've done- can do-" She blurts out, even as your Master waves a hand and cures the quickly forming bruise on her forehead.
"I'm- just pretend I am an inordinately powerful wizard. Not a God, okay?" Taylor says quickly.
Merida gestures helplessly around her.
"Isn't the difference… negligible?" She says with a forlorn whisper.
Taylor blinks at that, as though unsure of how to respond to the question.
"I- we are now united. You did not bring back a single nation, you brought back parts of several nations. Right now we are united in survival. Right now, those people - my people, believe they are working towards something, something important. A God-given duty. You- you cannot take that from them." Merida says resolutely.
"Hey, if Mom is a God does that make me-mmph!" Mun starts to say, but has her mouth covered by Mem who is clearly better able to read the mood.
"I don't want to lie to these people, though." Taylor hurriedly explains.
"Then don't. I will. I only ask that- that you help us where you can. Please. We are already struggling to obtain food, the nights are cold without any clothing to protect most of us, and reports from gatherers sent to other continents speak of giant metal cities. We were angry when you brought us back - but without something to unify us, we will just be scared, desperate, people." Merida begs.
It's admirable. In a sense, this woman is on her knees begging a being she knows could destroy her and everyone she knows with minimal effort for assistance. She's even correct in pointing out that the difference between an inordinately powerful person and a God is largely academic. The question remains however - what does your Master want to do about it?
"I would like to help." Mem speaks up, interrupting the tense silence as your Master thinks things over.
"Kid?" You ask curiously, turning to eye her.
"Grandmother says that if you start something, you should also finish it. I do not see how abandoning these people after using them is any better than what Salem did." She explains. Your Master gets a far away look in her eyes you have come to associate with heated debate with the ancient wizard that lives in her head, and then she refocuses on Merida, her lips pursed.
"...I'll find someone to help explain the world to you." She eventually says.
"And… I'll try to find a way for you to call me, in an emergency." She adds.
"Thank you." Merida utters with a gasp of relief and a half restrained sob as what could have been the moment of her death passes.
"I'm going to have to modify those runes…" You hear Taylor mutter under her breath.
You don't fully understand what that means, but you trust that she knows what she is doing.
Mostly.
Saturday, March 19th, 2011
Beacon Academy, Remnant
(Cinder Fall)
It was six in the afternoon, and in the absence of any notable danger to the lives of her charges, Cinder had chosen to finally relax somewhat. Those who had been tailing her had slowly deigned to leave her alone, her machinations had effected to clear up what little remained of the White Fang, and Neo had… well, Neopolitan hadn't quite given up on freeing Roman, but she had at least accepted that she would have to wait for a more opportune time to do something about his incarceration.
Thus, she was in the middle of getting her nails done at a local salon when the portal to hell opened up and she fell through it.
And then she was in a dimly lit stone hut, with a tribal looking woman, two children, a homeless man, and God.
"Wha-" She opened her mouth to ask as her panic spiked and she instinctively reached out for something to defend herself with.
"This is Cinder. She's got a spell on her neck that I just modified to kill her if she attempts to selfishly manipulate you. She'll be helping you acclimate to the modern world." God said blithely, before turning to eye her.
"See that dagger?" She said, gesturing at the black and fleshy weapon adorning the tribal woman's waist. Cinder nodded dumbly at the question, unable to find the words to respond without incoherent rage spilling forth from her lips in the form of a scream.
"That's what's left of Salem. Do good here and maybe I'll let up on the whole… 'die if you screw around' thing. Maybe. I'm going to open a Gap to your room in Beacon. It'll last a week at best. Don't disappoint me." She said imperiously, before stepping into the portal to hell she had just opened.
She was quickly followed by the children and the hobo.
Leaving her alone with the Tribal Woman.
"...my first lesson is never to offend God." She said in as neutral a tone as she could manage when she was god knows where, surrounded by god knows who, and intended to help with god knows what.
And she did mean that all literally.
The woman nodded along with the statement as though that made perfect sense. And for once, Cinder felt just the slightest amount of relief that she wasn't the only person that knew what was walking around pretending to be human.
It was quickly smothered when an enormous naked man burst through the door of the home she was in.
"I FOUND THE MOST MIRACULOUS DEVICE!" The stout man declared, waving about what looked like an old rusted gun.
He was holding it by the barrel, and his gesture to pass it to the woman pointed it straight at him, which wouldn't have been an issue if the woman hadn't made to grasp it… by the trigger.
This time, Cinder did scream.