1.2
In the end Madison hadn't figured out how to use her quest item before her mom had got back and checked on her.
Jumping out of her skin as her mom had let herself into her room probably wasn't what her mom had expected when she'd opened the door and Madison knew there was no way she hadn't looked suspicious as she'd quickly shoved her notepad under the pillow behind her.
It was a dubious mercy that her mom knew some of the fanfictions she'd written thanks to leaving her notepads lying about once upon a time, but at least it meant she wouldn't comment on her furiously trying to hide something she'd been writing on.
She wasn't sure if that made it more mortifying really.
On the other hand, nearly getting a heart attack from her mom's unexpected entrance had at least answered the question of whether anyone else could see her power. Her mom not reacting at all to the lingering notification window or her Inventory and then even moving through them when she'd leaned over the bed had answered that question pretty definitively.
Though if that meant the notification windows were actually projections or just how her power expressed itself visually was a rabbit hole she quickly decided not to go down, (though she did make a mental note to make a physical note for later).
Her stomach growling as she'd finished the thought at least gave her the excuse to stretch her legs and Madison doubted her power was going to disapprove since she knew she'd need the energy either way.
Throwing on a jumper as Madison eyed her notepad speculatively she mulled over the obvious problem of having all her notes just written down like that, pausing as she pulled her arms through the sleeves as the solution all but smacked to her in the face and she blanched as the realisation.
"Why am I thinking about how to re-write all my notes in code like a super-spy when my Inventory is literally right there?!"
Snatching up the small notepad she eyed it and then the next open Inventory slot before just going for it as she went to try and push the notepad into the extra dimensional space - Or at least the visualisation of one sitting in the air in front of her.
She had barely raised her arm to try when the notepad simply disappeared from her hand and her gaze snapped down to her hand in surprise as her fingers suddenly closed around nothing in what felt like the slight brush of air against her fingers.
Looking back up she saw it sitting exactly where she'd hoped, impossible to miss as it filled the second inventory slot, Madison belatedly realising she'd left her pen clipped to it.
"Huh."
That was easier than she'd expected and she wondered if taking things out would be just as easy.
She tried reaching her hand out again with the thought to take her notepad from wherever it was actually being stored and a moment later it was sitting in her hand as though it had never left.
There wasn't a sound or a flash of light, just one moment it was gone and when she wanted it back it was. Looking back up from the notepad her gaze found the 'Memories' item again and she frowned at it.
"Then why don't you work?"
She put the notepad down on the bed behind her and tried reaching out again for the 'Memories' item but nothing happened just like it hadn't the first dozen times she'd tried.
She scowled at it.
"Maddie it's ready if you want to come down!"
But victory could wait until after lunch.
.
.
"Okay there has got to be a trick to this." Madison muttered to herself as she once more found herself sitting in bed, inventory open in front of her and notepad sitting by her side.
She'd checked to make sure her previous success wasn't a fluke and also because it was fun and so incredibly satisfying to basically do magic with a thought. Especially when it turned out after a little more experimentation that she didn't need her Inventory actually open to do so, which only made it feel (and look) even cooler.
But she'd taken the notepad out again when she was done and had left it beside her just in case it was interfering with retrieving the 'Memories' item somehow. She didn't want to assume her power had the equivalent of a bug, but powers could be weird and she figured it was best not to take chances until she figured out more.
Another surprise though had been the notification window. When she'd left her bedroom after dismissing her Inventory she hadn't even thought about the remaining notification until it suddenly appeared in front of her again after she'd gotten herself seated downstairs.
It didn't move again, but when she'd gone to the bathroom after it had appeared and then again when she'd sat on her bed it had re-appeared like it had never left at all.
Only when she was actively focusing on it did it seem to move with her, otherwise it would just float there and when she got a certain distance away seemed to reset to what she assumed was its default distance. Though it only seemed to happen when she stopped moving, which at least meant she probably wouldn't get distracted in the middle of walking down the street and accidentally walk into people or walls.
Not that testing it further was a priority compared to literally everything else and priority number one was completing the damn quest.
Any actual trepidation she'd felt about doing it had gradually been buried under her mounting frustration as the damn. 'Memories'. Item. Wouldn't. Move!
And she'd tried everything!
She'd tried her trick with the notepad (and a few other miscellaneous things besides), she'd tried what the tutorial said and accessed her Inventory through the pockets of a coat she'd put on. She'd tried giving verbal commands, she'd tried making a whole variety of grabby motions both with her hands and her mind, but it was like the thing didn't even exist at all!
If it was a game she'd have just assumed it was probably bugged or that she was being a complete idiot and then searched some forums to find out which.
But it wasn't like there was anyone she could ask! And even the posters on PHO that seemed weirdly knowledgeable at times like Bagrat and AllSeeingEye could be anyone and everyone knew the boards were monitored by the PRT anyway and there was no way she was going into the Wards.
She grimaced at the thought of power testing and how she'd probably be delegated to some kind of office assistant as the scenario played out in her mind.
"Now Ms Clements, you say your power is to be able to put things into and out of extra-dimensional space like a set of storage lockers? Yes I'm sure Armsmaster would be thrilled to have you as an assistant, he's always complaining he lacks the necessary space in his lab and I'm sure it would do wonders for his social skills."
Nope! She was going to figure out her power and become an awesome Independent Hero like Astrolojog and Mouse Protector!
Unless her power disagreed.
And it was a thought she found surprisingly easy to admit to herself. Because realistically Madison knew she would fold instantly if her power gave her a quest to join the Wards. Her power had given the chance to be better, to stop being Madison Clements the bully and instead become Madison Clements the Hero. Someone who could save others like her, like Taylor and so if her power thought she'd do the most good in the Wards? Then she'd try and be the best Ward possible (and avoid Clockblocker, Shadow Stalker and Gallant as much as physically possible.)
With a sigh of "Inventory" she flopped onto her back, watching it pop up in front of her even as she was laying down.
One thing she'd quickly noticed that was different about her Inventory was that it would dismiss itself when it wasn't in her line of sight. She hadn't quite settled on if she considered that a bug or a feature, but right then it was useful at least as her eyes tracked to her key item again and her brow scrunched in thought.
She knew she was going about it wrong somehow and idly noted that 'glaring at it till it cooperates' was another thing to add to her growing mental list of failures.
With a small sigh she closed her eyes, part of her wondering if that would be enough to dismiss the Inventory window as the rest of her thoughts chewed on the problem at hand.
What was different about her notepad and the other random crap she'd tried in exasperation that all could be stored and retrieved perfectly fine?
She thought back to some of the games she'd played and could picture the small stack of them that were still under her bed, not that she felt any pressing need to start digging them out unless she really got stuck.
Game inventories were just for storing anything your character could collect in the world; weapons, animal bits, dyes, ingredients etc. Some games let you pick up basically anything, though even then you usually couldn't just pick up things like water or fire, not without some kind of container to put them in first. She frowned, the thought niggling at her. In Age of Heroes: Forgotten Shores she'd ended up filling her entire inventory with red grassvine seedlings in the starting area since she hadn't realised they wouldn't stack... Would her Inventory let her stack things? She wondered as she followed the trailing thought. Did it consider the pen clipped to her notepad as a stack or a new singular item? Maybe she should tear out some pages from her notepad and test it... No! Madison shook her head with a frown, she had to focus. She knew she was on to something.
When she'd played A Hero's Roots she was essentially a walking armoury slash alchemist's shop. 'Walking' probably being the most accurate way to describe her character when she'd spent half the game over encumbered because she wouldn't drop the identical greaves she'd found because she'd be damned if she let the game stop her from flogging her vendor trash for more gold coins! She paused again, wondering if there was any way she could over encumber herself with her current real life Inventory and a moment later decided with a certain finality she didn't want to actually find out.
What else had she played like that she pondered as she thought back over some of the more memorable games she'd played. There was Necromancer: Absolution's End she supposed, though she'd kind of bounced off the whole dark fantasy setting when she'd started getting bullied. Picking up skeleton warrior bones, essences of life and soul remnants stopped being the kind of escapism she'd wanted to nestle herself snugly into at that point. The graphics were pretty good for the time she remembered and it was admittedly cool watching all the little particle effects when pulling the soul remnants from the bodies to upgrade her character later, even if the upgrades were all done by a pretty lame menu by comparison.
When she thought about it that was probably when she'd started playing games less in general Madison mused, with the bullying and everything jumping in price for a few months after that Villain tinker-blaster duo screwed up parts of the freight network. She definitely had plenty of games she'd never gotten around to finishing and being a necromantic mage running around collecting souls felt like a lot less of a big deal than it had at the time for her.
Why did that feel important? She paused with another frown as she scrutinised the thought. It wasn't that good of a game, the reviews were pretty middle of the road at the time and even if it did sell enough to get a sequel it wasn't making anyone's top ten nostalgia lists.
The more she thought about it the more she remembered how annoyed she was at having to deal with the menu interface for all the esoteric ingredients whenever she wanted to craft something. Having to scroll down the whole thing and manually select them one by one because the whole interface had been blatantly designed for console first, yeah maybe she wasn't in such a hurry to go back and play it. The only reason the studio had put so much effort into the loot particle effects was because half of the stuff you picked up wasn't something your character could actually physically pick up and without all the pretty flashing lights the character animations just looked kind of lame by themselves.
She stopped.
No way.
No way it was that simple.
She bolted upright as her eyes opened and almost yelped in surprise when her head passed straight through her Inventory screen that it turned out hadn't been dismissed when she shut her eyes.
"Inventory!" She snapped, opening it again in front of her and staring at her key item hard enough to burn a hole in the wall behind. It wasn't a pen or a notepad or a stupid jacket! She'd kept trying to pull something out of her Inventory that didn't exist!
Something clicked in her mind as she tried to just select the item and then a faint border appeared around it and she wooped in triumph. She focused more, not on the idea of trying to retrieve it, but to access it and felt her face split into a wide grin as suddenly a contextual menu popped up next to it like the most obvious thing in the world.
'Memories' (Item)
Use
Info
Retrieve
Displace
?
"Yes!" She cheered, grinning at her victory as she quickly skimmed over the options, though immediately noticing the last three were completely greyed out.
"I'll take it! Info!"
She wasn't sure if it was saying the word or the thought that caused the next window to pop up and completely forgot the question as her eyes registered just what she was seeing.
.
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['Memories' (Item) (Quest Item)]
M̶̭̯͛e̷̷̶̵̶̵̴̢̢̡̹̫̲̺̼͓̩̝͙͙̘̦͌̒ͦ̽̅ͬ̀̀ͮ̈́̒ͭ̂́̍ͧ͆͆ͪ̃̾̚m̴͚̀͗͘_̵̶̵̴̶̛̰̮̗͎̬͍̯̂́ͭ̓̈́ͬ̊͑ͮͩ̍̚͜͝ȯ̷̴̸̫̳͓͆ͦ̀̌̐ͥ̽ͅŕ̸̴̵̹̠͖̱̠ͯ̏ͪ͒i̷̴̵͇͖̣̙̞ͨ̎ͩ̆͝e̶̷̴̸̲̺̦͓̗͖̍̓ͨ̍̐́ͯ̀̎̕͢͠ͅͅ_̸̴̛̠̙̳͇̥̉ͮ̔͗͝ș̷̸̸̘̻͔̗͒ͭ̿͒ͦ͑ͅͅ ̷̱̖͎̉n̴͎̮̬͝o̵͖͑͆͝w̵̸̵̶̸̴̧̺͕͓̲̬̥̳͍͕͉̥ͫ̐ͧ̓ͨ̏̈́ͬ̈́̉ͮ̐͘͘͠ ̷̖̝́̄̇l̶̷̴̶̵̴̴̨̧̧̢͔̙̩̻͖̩̺̣͖̼̱͖̗͐̄ͬ͐̂ͪ͊̾ͭ͆ͩ̅̏ͧ̋̀ͥ͌̈́̕͘͘̚͜͝ȩ̴̶̥̦̳̼̹͌̀͆ͧ̂̀́t̵̵̪͉̝̄̊ͬ̂̏̚'̶̝̝͇̆͝s̸̴̢̥͇̬͕̭̔ͩ͆̇̅ ̶̺̰͑ͅņ̸̵̵̵̼͇̠͈̔ͫ̅ͥ̈ͮ͒͜ơ̷̴̶̸̸̶̢̡̼̯̤̙̞̪̬̩̹̣̗̹͆̅̇ͨ͑ͫ͗̾̒ͣ̌ͮͦ͋̈́̈́͝͝ͅt̵̷̵̶̴̢̡̮̘̘͕͇̻̏̾̈́ͬ̐̐ͥ̾͒ͥ͘͢͜͠ ̶͎͍̊͝p̷̸̧̼̘͙͈͌ͧ̊͠ͅ_̴̷̴̩̳̦͎̙̬̯̱͛̐̓ͦ́̉͗ͪ̆̚ǘ̷̶̗̩̻̈́̿ͧ̈́ͅt̵̸̷̵̵̵̵̨̰̙̱̭͇̞̘̺̫̦̝̱̓̉̓ͩ̾̎̒ͤ͊͒ͤ͑̽ͤ̓́ͭ͐͑̓ͯ̌͊͜͝͝ͅ ̷̹̎̈s̸̸̵̶̶̴̸̨̡͖̠̺̗̬̱̗̘͕͂̓͒ͤ̓̈́͗̈́̓ͦ̌ͫ̏̎ͬ̊͘͢͜͢͜͝p̵̴̴̸̛̪͕̗̠̖̬̋́ͫ̎ͧͤ̄̄͝͝ͅȏ̵̴̴̡̹̖ͯ̌̀ͫ̀̊ḭ̸̸̵̶̢̫̼̟̼̳̜̇ͦ̒̈́̋ͬ̓ͨ͝l̷̸̶̡̨͖̮̭̮̈́̈́̂ͥ̿̔̈́̄͢ȅ̶̸̵̢̛̜̙̲̟̣̋ͥ͐͌ͥṙ̸̴͙͕ͨ͊s̴̴̵͙̥̱̱̮̈ͮ͌ͥ̋͌̓ ̴̻̾̈́h̶̷̸̞͇͙̫̘͈̬̅͐̈́ͯ̔ͪ̏̽̐e̶̸̸͖̰̠̥̙̤̓̈́ͤ͆̀ͣ̅͐r̷̴̶̴̵̷̸̢̩͎̭̹͚̤̖̝͉̾̂̓ͣ̋̎ͪ̏̈ͮͧ́̔ͥ̀ͬ͒̕͘͘͠e̶̸̷̴̸̶̷̢̻̻͚̲͍̣̬̥͖̣̝̹̿̈́ͤ̈́ͪ͑̊ͮ̇̋ͧ̅̑̏ͦ̚͢͝͠͝_̴̸̵͖̮̬̫̭̇̈́ͫ͂̊ͫ̽͂ ̷̢͈̹͘͝j̴̸̶̝̦͎̙͙̻̇̇̋ͤ͂ͣ̉_̷̡̠̱̄̈́ú̷̶̡̫͇̤͉̽͒ͯ̈́s̶̶̷̴̵̶̨͍̥̲̲̤̟̱̠̠͙̭͐ͬ̑̔ͩ̀̌ͫ̏͗ͪ͋̈́̕͢͝t̸̸̶̶̶̷̵̢̢̧͉̰̖͓̥̣͉͖̥̮̻̄̎ͨ̄ͩ͊͑ͩ̿ͤ̀ͬ̀͌͊ͧ͆̂̌͘͠͝ͅ ̶̳͎̎̆̓͜i̷̴̵̡̗͓̯͓̜̽̂̔ͭ̇ͬ̉̚n̸̵̵̴̷̴̷̡̢̧̜̫̻̘̺̫̝̲͈̓̽ͪ̋ͨ̄̓̋ͩ̅ͥ̿̀ͧ͌̃͆ͮ̍̋͘ͅͅ ̷̩̂́c̶̷̸̴̤̻̭̫͍̬̾ͬ̉̓ͧ̈́ͮ́a̷̸̧͙̼̤͊̈̑ͬ͒̋̀_̵̷̵̖̘̼̗̠̺͛͗̂ͮ̃͐͋ͤ͝ş̸̴̵̷̴̡̨͍̘̣̥̿̓ͬͪͣ̍ͬ̎̊̏̕͘͝e̶̶̵̢̙̮̔̀ͥ́ͦ̃͝ͅ ̸̛͖̞͠͝ş̸̷̵̵̵̷̷̷̸̼̰̙̮̳̬͚̳̥͈̙̬͈̲̤͉͒̓̆ͤ̈́̓ͦ͊͆ͭ́ͪ̽̆ͬ̆̐ͮ̈́̀ͨ̀ͯ̉͂͜͝͝ơ̵̸̸̵̶̸̶̴̧̡̧̘͕̯̲̦͚̬͖̦̹̖͔̔ͯ̎̔̄ͦ̃͂ͨ͋ͬ̋̉ͦ̀ͨ̀̋̀͊͢m̴̙̱̻̃͐̚e̴̵̴̡͇͚͈͈͙̞̔̿̉ͬ́ͫ̅̕͠ͅ ̷̰̜̫̏ę̷̄n̴̷̷͈̖͎̝͐ͭ̀̐̌́̚͢͠t̵̟̐e̴͎̝̔̈̑ŕ̸̷̥̤ͦ̄͛́_̸̸̶̸̸̡͈̺͔̗̦̪͇͕͍͑ͫ̿̀̈́ͩ̎̿ͫ͑ͮ͝p̶̶̵̸͕̫̺̯̪̺͐̅ͬ̌̌ͥ͐̎ͪ̈́͘̚͝ͅͅr̴̴̡͍̭̬̉ͤ͠͠į̶̵̷̴̵̴̴̯͚̖̩̯̰̝͚̠̪̣̜̾ͥ̿ͪ͛̒ͧ̏̈ͩ͊̀̀ͥ̅̌͊̄̚͜͢͜͝ş̷̸̲̼́̄́ͯ̊͂ͅ_̷̷̸̷̸̵̸̡̡̩̤̦͉͖̲̟͍̭̫͛ͯ̊̇ͧ̀ͨ̌ͯ̔͐ͭ̋̈́ͩ̅̇͠͝i̴̴̶͖̯̟͕̻̓ͦ̃̅̋ͧ̈́͠ň̸̶̵̷̺̙̰͖̳̯̘͓̽̇̉ͪ͊ͬ͑̑͢_̶̵̵̸̷̶̸̷̸̢̡̘̼͙̖͙͔̳̥͇̣̞̭͍̠͎͈͓̥̿ͮ͛̓ͭ͗̍̀ͧͫ̾ͯ̀ͦ́̓́ͮ̊͒̾̚͢͝͝ͅġ̴̸̶̴̗̮̱̲̜̼̟̯ͤ͑ͦ̓͛ͮ̏͒͐͘ ̴̢͕͓͊̍̀i̵̴̴̴̶̷̬̫̣̤̱̙̮͔̬̥̯͙̿ͧ̓ͩ́͑͒̔̆ͥ͂̚̕͢͢͝ṋ̷̸̶̗̯̬͚͎̀ͣ̋͋ͧ̈́d̴̶̴̴̸̶̸̡̞͕̯͉̝̖̱̬̦͚͎̈́͐ͭ͊͐̓͑ͧ͗ͦ͋͒ͭ̾̓ͪ̐͢͝͝͠i̴̴̷̵̴̵̶̸̵̧̨͙̳͈̝̣̹̻̤̤̙̣̦̜͖̗̐ͨ̈́̈ͩ̂͌͌ͧ̅̍ͮ̈́ͧ̾ͧ͊͆ͦͭ̓̋̕̕͠͝v̸̶̶̴̧̖̖̳̺̭͕̟̄̈́ͪ̍̈́ͫ̃ͥ̏̚͠í̴̶̷̸̡̛̭̦̰̤̙̒̂ͯ͒ͯ͢͝͠ͅd̴̴̵̵̵̶̨̻̙̠͚͎̖͉̱̤̮͔̠̠̔̋ͮ͋ͥ̾̈́ͭ̏̓͑ͦ̑̕͢u̶̸̶̶̷̴̷̷̴̢̢̢͙̬̲̯͇͙͔̙̤̝̺͈͚̪̘̬̙̣̿͋ͦ̿̽̽ͣ̅̌͂ͬ̐̊ͪ̈́̇ͥ̿ͪ̃ͬ̀̏̕͢ą̷̸̷̢̜͔͍̟̙͈͙̀ͧ̎̒ͪ͒͝͝ļ̵̴̴̴̷̷̶̸̨̞̣̱̲͈̦̲̫̤̹̮̯̥̺̪͓͕̰͓̐͛̎ͬͤ́̎ͥ̉̀ͭ̉̔ͦ̂̔ͤ̄ͮ͌͘͝ ̷̬͓͈̆̚d̴̴̸̡̞̲̳̣̏͒ͤ̒͂ͤ̈́͘e̷̷̶̵̴̷̶̴̡̝̖͚͉̠̞̻̟̜͕̹͕̰̭̾̏̄͒ͤ̽̎ͥͨ̾̐̔ͭ͗ͤ̆̍ͪ̾̏̚͢͝͝͠c̸̵̵̴̷̷̷͙̩̠͓̝̗̹̭̰͚̬̺̤̽ͭ̎̑̅ͧ̅̎ͣ̓̆ͫ̓͗̑ͦ͋̌ͭ̈́͜ͅi̵̷̵̢̨͙͉̤̯̓̐̀ͣ̀̆̔ͦ͐̽ͅ_̸̵̧͉̗͔̞̈́ͮ̐͝d̷̸̸̖̮͚̦̗̼͖̂ͦ̔ͥ͐e̴̸̷̵̵̢̧̲̳̭͍̳̟̞͚ͩ͆͊̐ͪ̀ͣ̉̔ͦ͑̚͝͠ş̶̷̛̰̽̓ͪ̆_̵̸͓̮̺̎ͭ͌͆͜ ̵̼͐͒͜͝ǔ̸̶̸͎̮͍̺̫ͩ̌͋ͬ͑̎_̶̴̶̡̡̙̺̗̱̭̘͌ͣ̐͑ͥ̊͆͋_̶̸̷̠̫̭̝̖̓̀̌ͮ̈́̾ͤ̑̚ń̵̸̶̛̮͎̳̜̎ͬ͐̈ͮ̎͜͝ͅġ̸̴͎͇̝͔͊ͥ̇͆̿͜l̷͉̼̠̑̉_̴̵̧̝̳̣͓̫̅ͮ̌i̴̸̴̦͉͙̯͉̪̯̅ͮ͗ͨ̈t̵̴̶̷̵͖̪͇̣̲̺̠͉͇͈̑̓ͫ̔ͧ̇̉ͩ́͢c̷̷̶̷̴̴̴̡̢͈͇͈̳̥͖̠̣̭̜͔͚̤̎ͧ͑ͭ̈́̈́ͦ́͗ͪ̽͌̔ͬ͆̓͆͘͘͢͝_̴̻̿͂͝ͅh̵̹̐ ̷̟͈͝t̸̶̘̭̖̭̏̾ͭ͊͜͝_̸̵̷̸̴̨̧̖̟̹̙͙̠̻̈̔ͤ̆ͧ͌ͭ͊̓ͭ̊̃͜h̷̳̦̪̄̓̒e̸̵̷̳̞͕͊̀̂ͯ͒̽ͮ͛͜͝ ̷̫͔͝g̴̨͝ĺ̶̴̴̶̶̡̢̢̨̛̹̗̬̳͈̖̱ͨ̐ͭ̅ͨ͋ͤ͌͗̕i̵̲̳͊ṯ̵̣̊͝_̴̵̵̵̴̵̨̡̢̛̭̬̙̝̟̭̯͊͗̈́ͧ͒ͨ̈́̾ͫ̂̈́ͤ̋ͧ͋͆̚͝ͅc̷̸̵̵̷͓̙̝̤͈̪̩̘̽̓̓ͦ̌ͫͮ̓̉ͤ͊͝_̷̙̤͕͐̑͝h̴̶̼͓̼͖̿̍ͤ̀_̵̶̸̶̛͓̜͖̬̮̥̪̮̓ͤ̽͆ͥ͗ͬ̔͠͝ ̸̘̎́͠t̷̸̴͇̲̠̜̰͂̂̒ͮ̐̐̅ͯ̈́̈́͝e̶̶̵̸̶̫̹͖̜̗̜͎̅͛ͪ͊ͯ̉̂ͧ͒̓̃ͪ̈́̓͝_̶̵̷̷̦̜̗̟͇̜̹̣̝̔ͩ̒̓ͫ̃̍ͥ͗͐̅̚x̷̴̷̵̵̷̷̢̛͈̟͎͔̲͉̻̹͚̖̝̭͓̪̭͗̀ͦ̊ͮ̓͂ͧ́ͮ͌ͨ̃ͭ̍͘͜͝ͅt̷̳͝ ̷̞͑ą̷̷̨͖̮̥̃̃ͯ͂͒n̶̶͎̤͎̏̈́ͭ͋͗ḑ̸̫̠̅͒͠_̴̸̷̦͚̤̘̆̈́̃ͭ̊̓̅̚͢ͅ ̷̝͋̍d̵̷̸̷̛͙̺̲̖̦͖̺͕̟̆̅͂ͭ̀ͬ͆ͫ̿̓̍į̷̴̴̴͎̞͍̲̪͍̫̤́̒̈ͫ̒ͤ͆ͭ̀̈̀_̵̸̵̨̝̝͙͍̘̓͊ͤ͂ͫ̀̀͜͝s̸̸̴̡̱̖̜̆ͯ̎̐̃ͮ̑̈́͜c̸̸̸̵̸̢̛̛̙̞͙̙͖̳̜͉̩̈́̍̈́ͭ̄̿ͩ̉̈ͪͧ̇̽͝ͅỏ̵̶͓̼̭̗͗̓ͫ̋̈́͒v̶̶̵̸̺̙͎̦̗͉̰̫̉̾ͥ̉ͥ̋̒ͧ͌̅̀ȩ̴̵̵̸̴̳̥̹̳͖̬͍̦̏͑ͯ̈́̔ͣ̃̄ͬ̇͐͘͢ŕ̷̵̶̷͙̮̯̱̩͍̝̙͚̎͋̊͋̽ͪ̎ͭ̉̐͢͝s̷̶̶̵̼̩̺̟͕̥̯̹͈͆ͨͣ̂ͮ̇̈́̃͘͝ ̴̛̛̩͉̅t̴̵̸̶̨̖͎̗̤͚̮͙̝̺̒̓ͭ͊̈́ͭ̀ͬ̑̕͝h̴̸̸̸̶̛͙̹̰͚̥̼͙̣͎̪͐̃̌̔ͤ̽͐̇ͩ͐̾̕͢͢͠i̵̷̵̷̶̶̡̙̺̠͇̮̱̗̮͇̫̟͔͕̇ͯ̓ͥ̊ͤ͆̿̆ͬ͊ͤ͆͘̚͝͝ͅn̵̵̻͔̒ͩ̐̉g̷̵̴̶̛͍̣̙͓̹̱͇̙̀ͥ̈͛ͦ͗̈́̔͘̕͜͢s̴̶̴̲̙̳̭̑̑̃ͮ̓ͮ̿͘_̴̶̵̨̪̠̙̙̘̀ͬ̀ͥ͂ͅ ̵̦̣̄̃t̷̸̼͕͎̮̀̊̀͒͢͝_̷̵͍̳̍ͪ̒h̵̷̡̩̯̲̘͂͗̑ͯ͝á̸̵̵̴̵̠̹̟̮̬̱̺͇̩̪͔̿ͫ̂ͯ̊̈́̂ͣ̾ͮ̈́̏͂͜ţ̶̷̷̩̺̬̰̪̹̊́̓ͭ͌ͯ͐̚͝ ̴̡̤̀͜͠ḩ̷̵̷̶̭̝͖͎̱̫͇̀͊ͧ̄͆ͬ̐̀̅ͩ͂̔̾͘á̵̷̡̛̝̤̩̃̅͢v̵̩̞̼̏e̶̴̛̲͈͍̲̅ͬ̍ ̸͚͈̅̅͘ä̵̵̵̷̵͔̰͖̗͉̙̹̦̋ͮ̓̅̓ͤ͊͗ͥ̾͋ͦ̽́̆͘l̸̯̦̾r̵̳̼̒ẹ̶̸̶̡̼̼͉̙̒̂̈ͤ̑̅ͤ̋̈̑a̸̵͍̱̽ͤ̃̌̈d̷̵̸̷̵̷̸̡̢̛̬̯̤̖͓̣̹̬͈̲̮̱̻͑ͣ͆ͩ̿̃ͣ̔ͮ͐͗̎ͤ̅ͪ͘̕̚ỳ̵̸̷̵̡͖̺͎̘̪͔̃ͥͭͮ̋͘̕͜͠ ̶̲̏b̵̲̙̯͐̎ė̸̵̶̶̸̶̛̝̰̹̱̯͚̹̠̝ͦ͑ͣ̑̈ͨ̉ͦ̀ͩ̚̕ͅë̸̻͉̩͑n̷̶̷̷̸̶̛͚̯͔̼͔̜̝̻̫̻͛͗͒ͣ̂ͦ̓͒ͯ̈ͯ͋ͦ̃̅̽͠ ̴̫͙̰̽͑̄h̵̵̖͈͔̪͉͐̊͋ͩ͋͆͠i̶̡͖̿̿n̷̶̸̷̻̫͙̞̙̔̆ͬ̏ͥ̒̓ͨ̓̔̓͠t̵̵̶̰͓̠̺͎̗̲̲̭͒̿ͮ̽ͤ̀͛̕̚͘è̵͇͔_̵̵̸̵̵̴̢̜̬̹̘̪̜̻̮̝̖͛̎͊ͬ̄̀ͨ̂ͯ́ͬͦ̉͘͝d̸̷̶̵̴̴̝̺͚̩͙͎̩͉͚̯͎̠̟̀͗ͩ̑̀͐͑̇͐ͯ́͌̇ͬ́͘͜͢͢͝͝ͅ ̸̬͍͓̍̾͝a̷̵̪̟̜͈̮̲͂̿ͭ͑͛̾t̸̶̷̶̷͎̬̫͚̩̙͇̯̪̐ͥ́͒̎ͧ̔̉ͯ̊̊ͬ̈́͑̓͝,̶̵̦̝̼̜̈́ͩ͆͜ ̶̡̺͆͑b̷̵̷̵̦̭͉̲̠̃ͦ͛̍ͫ̿ͧ͐͂͝͝͝ͅu̸̲̠͒͋̾t̸̵̸̸̢̡̢͎͖̪̱͂ͣͭ̋͆͒ͩ͂̚͘͠͠͝ ̷̨̂w̴̷̴̶̷̧͕̹̱̰̝̯͚̎̈́ͥ̀ͤ̀͗͋ͧ̏ͤ͋͊͂͝i̷̶̸͚̥͔͕̘̜̽̃ͬ̑̎̌ͣ̀̕l̴̙͍͋̆̋ĺ̶̨͚̂͗ ̸̯͕́b̵̴͔͈̩̒ͬ̆_̷̵̛̺̜̥̲̣͂̀̆ͪ͘ȇ̵̶͈͖̞̮̩̒ͣ́ ̸͙̜̰̏̕r̵̵̡͕̱ͯ̆͌͝e̶̷̶̷̞̮̼̟̥̙̽́ͯ͐ͯ̿̅ͨ̈́̓̕ͅv̸̴̷͕̖̣̳̫̉ͯ͋̋ͦ̀̕_̸͌̓ͅe̵̩̭̜͋a̴̴̷̴̡̮̩̘̮̰̗͓̎ͫ͒ͧ̈́͆ͤ́̐͘l̵̴̵̶̶̨̨̛̟̼̟̥̺͇͈̳̏͑̔ͪ̆ͣ͒͆ͤ͒̄̇ͦ̎̓̽͜_̵͚͍̗͂̾̿ę̸̸̴̶̶̸̶̷̩̯͔̜̜̱̻̖̘̝͎͚̰̹̪͂ͯ̉̉ͬ͛ͪ͋̈́̈́ͨ̉̔ͮ̔ͫ̐̄ͦ̽͜d̶̴̶̸̶͕̖̖̰͉̤̜͎̮͎̫̲̓̎͑͒ͧ̎͆ͦ̓̎̉ͣ̋̀͑͢͝ ̷̪̻͗̀ḯ̴̲̆n̷̷̵̢̛̖̳̤̟̱̣̏ͩ̄ͨ̓̒ ̴͎͓͐̚d̷̶̶̲̯̻͊̒͐ͭ̑̃ͥ͆͛ù̷̸̠̟̲̟̃̽ͯ̇͜ë̶̴̷̶̸̡̨̡̥̻͍̝̫̞̮͚̙ͫ͆ͩ͂͐ͮ̌̄ͯ̈́̑̂͜ͅ ̶̖̿͗͋ć̶̸̸̯̜̲̦̦͓͔ͣ̆͛ͫ̔̍o̴̸̴̴̴̢̧̩̜̼͙̘̣͎̣͋̒ͤ̊́ͯ̆ͪ̉ͩ͑̑ừ̴̷̼̪͎̞̐ͣ̔͊r̵̦̂͐̈́s̵̴̵̴̶̵̡̝̣̪̮̤̺̬͙̱͒̒ͯ̊ͭ͋ͨ͂ͮ̄ͦ̏̕e̵͚̻͍͑̀͑_̵̷̵̶̸̴̵̨̡̛̗̪͉͙̟̻̟͍̟̱̞̲̳̏͒ͣ̂̀ͤ̉ͭ̀ͫ̋́̀ͦ̎ͣ̀̊̕͝͠ ̸̮̱̲̈́̌͌i̵̶̶̷̷̧͚̤͎̣̭̩̯͍̮̪͐̄ͫ́͂ͨ̑̈́̎ͫ̔ͯ͋̅f̷̧̮́ ̴̤̑ť̴̶̶̸̸̸̴̪̫̞̳̥̲̰͇͙̠̰̤͖͙̻̈̈ͫ̒ͨ̓̇̒ͫ̊ͯ̈́ͮ̄͂ͦ̏͐͝h̷̸̵̶̴̡̳͙͓͕̦̫̳͇̆́ͩ̾̎ͭ̀̈́͒ͮ͊ͨ̆͝ͅe̷̵̺̍̋͂ͣ̄́͜ỷ̴̴̵͔̹͉̫ͤ̾̇̂ͯ͆'̷̷̨̛͉̩̙̯͑̒͛ͩ̍͝ŕ̶̶̯̲͕́ͣ͆͑̚ȩ̴̸̵̸̷̶̴̴̢̬̹̗͇̺̙̦̟̣̱̰̝̫̙̐̄̈̓ͬ͑ͮ̈́̊̊ͭ̈́̔̏ͮ͗ͨ͆ͪ̑͘͢ͅ ̸̘́ṕ̴̸̷̶͓͔̟̟̠͎̟͒ͩ͛ͩ̔̄ͧ͊͝ā̴̠̥t̸̪̤̃̾i̷̛̪̔̇e̶̱͋͂͠n̵̷̸̶̸̸̸̷̡̲͕̳̲̺̹̦̫̥̙͍̼̩͉̗͍̄̈́̒ͫͧ̈́͋ͬͫ̍̑́ͫ̿̋̾ͯ̀ͭ̔̾̕͘̕͝͝t̴̸̯͎͍͆͐ͮ̐̚.̷̵̸̧̜͎͇̻͔̪͂̀͂ͮ̎ͯ́
[OK]
.
She frowned and squinted, but the text was completely garbled. She could stare at it for hours and she doubted she'd be able to make out a single letter. That was...disconcerting. But this was her quest item? The memories of just what her quest update had said rang through her mind again and she shivered, the weight of what she had, what she had to do settling on her shoulders like lead and she bit her lower lip in consternation.
Dismissing the info box she just looked at the item for a moment. It was just a blue blob, the same shade of blue as all of her notification windows, flecks of white giving it a sort of shimmering, swirling motion. It wasn't ominous when she just looked at it like that, just another gem or soul stone or memory fragment she'd seen in videogames a hundred times before. Nothing special, if it was a videogame and not currently her life.
"Well I didn't go through all that effort for nothing" she chuckled nervously to herself, bringing up the contextual menu again and selecting 'Use' before she could second guess herself a second time.
[Warning: Quest Item 'Memories' may result in loss of consciousness. Ensure you are lying down or otherwise safe and comfortable and will not be disturbed for duration.]
[Use] [Back]
Oh cool that wasn't terrifying at all. She gulped and hit 'Back', shuffling out of bed to the bedroom door and cracking it open enough that she could stick her head out and shout down the hall to the study where her mom was working.
"Mom I'm going to sleep, please tell dad not to knock on my door if I'm not up later."
"Okay Maddie, I hope you feel better after!"
"Thanks mom."
The guilt twisted as much as any knife as she shut the door and ambled back to comfort of her bed. She hated lying to her parents, hated pretending to be everything they believed her to be. That she was a good person, a nice girl, someone they could be proud to call their daughter.
That's why she couldn't back out, why as soon as she was snug under the covers, head pressed back into her pillow she whispered her Inventory open and selected 'Use' with only the briefest pause before she did it once more.
The blue orb dissolved before her eyes and she blinked as she was overcome by a sudden feeling of vertigo, blinking again as she tried to shake her head to ward off the disorientation but barely shifting more than a sluggish squirming against her pillow.
Sounds seemed to rush like running water, her overhead light she'd forgotten to turn off expanding into a flat fluorescent glow that crawled across the ceiling until there was nothing else. Her eyelids fluttered, flickering stabs of light in her vision as she tried to keep them open before they closed once more and stayed shut. The sound of the tide crashed against her mind, rising up to drown her thoughts in a muddled blur of light and noise and then abruptly and inexorably she knew no more.
Until she did.
And she found herself watching, a spectre of her own memory, confusion giving way to epiphany and the echoes of longing and regret.
"Taylor Hebert?"
"Here miss."
Madison remembered not thinking much of Taylor Hebert, she didn't look mean, didn't look much of anything and so she'd quickly tuned her out as she'd boredly looked over everyone else she'd be sharing a class with. It might have been a new start for her, especially when none of her bullies had followed her to Winslow thanks to their move, but she still couldn't help her anxiety. Her wandering gaze slipped back to each person as their names were called for the register, trying to figure out from a glance if they were safe, which were the ones she'd want to avoid and shoving everyone else into a box called 'wait and see.'
.
"Just stop following me Taylor, we're done, I'm done with you! Just get it through your thick skull already!"
She wasn't trying to watch, but Emma had a way of drawing a crowd. The redhead had quickly climbed near the top of her 'avoid' list after she'd seen the other girl yelling at Taylor the first time. But Madison was getting worried that as Emma's influence grew that wouldn't be an option forever and she knew all too well it was safer to be part of the pack than outside of it.
.
"Maybe look where you're going loser."
Madison didn't like Emma, didn't like how easily she'd started turning people on Taylor, especially what it meant if Emma ever noticed her. But it was Sophia who scared her. Madison thought she at least understood Emma, a queen bee that stayed so by finding someone to step on to the entertainment of the crowd. There was that vindictive satisfaction every time she put Taylor down, but there was also the sense there was a limit, a point where she would finally stop and she just hadn't found it yet.
But Sophia just kept bringing out the worst in Emma, kept pushing that line a little further out each time. Madison didn't know if anyone else had started to feel like she did, had started to laugh along a little with everyone else. Laughing just so she wouldn't be seen not laughing. She still hoped they'd stop soon. That one of the teachers would finally notice, that someone else would care.
.
"Hey Madison? You're in world affairs with Hebert right?"
It wasn't like she could say no. Not with Julia and the others there, the ones who would be in the class with her. Madison thought she'd been doing a good job of blending in, just laughing when Emma and Sophia did something, sometimes throwing in her own vague insult when they others did so it could be lost amongst the noise. But they'd noticed her, they thought she was actually like them and she didn't want them to realise their mistake. Didn't want to think about if she actually was for everything she'd already done. Would do to be accepted. To be safe.
.
"I heard from Julia what you did, man I wish I could have seen her face!"
It had been...easy. All she had to do was pretend to trip, let all the pencil shavings fall on Taylor and that was it. She was so nervous but it didn't even matter in the end. Taylor had just looked at her in shock and then this resignation that it was only the next thing on a list that never seemed to end. Mr Gladly believed her and half the class seemed to think it was just a hilarious accident.
And Emma and Sophia had praised her, Emma had given her a smile that proved she was safe, Sophia had encouraged her, told her what a great job she'd done and for a moment she had felt good about crushing the spirits of another girl just like her.
She hadn't gone to school the next day.
.
"Give her hell Mads!"
She was more popular. Her. Short, uninteresting Madison Clements.
She didn't even notice it at first, she was just trying to survive, trying not to find herself in Taylor's place. She'd exchanged numbers with Emma and Sophia after the first prank, been invited to one of their group chats. They'd talked about Taylor, insulted her, thought about what else they could do to make her miserable. She'd contributed.
She should have realised it just meant they expected more from her. Should have realised how poisonous success was. Every victory made her feel a little better about herself, a little taller, gave her back a little more self worth.
Emma and Sophia wanted to hang out with her even more and so had other people, even outside of school. People she'd put on the avoid list were suddenly safe because she was safe, because she was more popular than them. She'd managed what Taylor hadn't and a growing part of herself was getting better at pushing the guilt down. Pushing down the disgust when she looked in the mirror and telling herself that she was better than Taylor, that she deserved it.
.
"Please give it back Emma."
And Emma didn't.
Emma passed off the flute to Sophia, Taylor broke and she had just watched the whole thing. She had felt sick, seeing herself in Taylor's place but going through the motions anyway. She'd crushed the guilt in the shared satisfaction from Emma, Sophia and the others, reminded herself again that Taylor had brought it upon herself.
.
"I got rid of it obviously, why would I keep trash in my house? You know you really should be thanking me for doing a public service like that."
Emma had told her what she'd done to Taylor's flute and she'd laughed along, that part of herself that actually cared slowly being strangled a little more and she readily contributed her own ideas as to what the three of them could do next.
And then she did them.
Willingly, happily, sometimes just spur of the moment cruelties, some she didn't even bother telling the others about as the weeks went on, just satisfied she had pushed Taylor down a little more.
Again and again and again.
.
"Maybe you should do us all a favour and not come back!"
Sometimes it was as simple as a passing comment or even just a smirk that promised something worse later. But gradually they escalated and gradually she no longer cared. Throwing away Hebert's possessions, destroying her homework, stealing her work in class and submitting it as her own.
They'd poured drinks over her, tripped her in the halls, told her to kill herself and ensured not even the most kind hearted soul, not even a teacher would look twice as they dragged her through the mud day in, day out.
.
"Are you really calling me a liar Hebert? Just another sad pathetic lie from the girl everyone hates. I'd tell you to go and cry home to your dad, but I bet he doesn't want to see you either!"
She wasn't sure who's idea it was in the end, what should have been just a stupid joke in their group chat, but they'd kept talking about it until it had somehow become an actual thing they were planning.
Even after all the crap they'd put Hebert through it was easy to get someone to pretend to be remorseful, to pretend to be her friend for a while. Make her let her guard down, make her feel like the worst had passed and things were actually going to get better whilst the three of them had prepared.
They'd filled her locker with the most disgusting crap they could think of, one-upping each other to the point Madison knew she might finally be going too far. That she'd help start something she couldn't control as she helped fill Hebert's locker with all the worst waste from the girl's bathrooms and then letting it just sit there over the mid-winter break.
Then they'd shoved her in it. It was Sophia who had done it, she was the track star, the athlete, the one who was strong enough to manage it properly. The one who wanted it the most.
But she and Emma might as well have pushed her in too as Hebert had screamed and they'd laughed.
They'd joked to each other as Hebert had begged to be let out, laughing when they'd locked the door and walked away, knowing that for everything they'd done not a single other student would interfere.
And they'd been right.