Episode 57- Where the social circle expands.
"You see, humans have had magic since ancient times. But, through the ages and especially now, as far as a typical citizen is concerned, magic doesn't exist. Ghosts also are often regarded as myth or fabrication, but mostly on the periphery of civilization or communities which didn't have any kind of contact with them." For some added level of comfort, They sat in thin air, legs intertwined.
"First and foremost, Ghosts are a pretty new development. During our long journey on the five gigantic colony ship, the AI that was guiding us observed some useful anomaly that caused our species to awaken our psionic potential. But magic!" They suddenly raised their index finger into the air, mimicked by the two smaller shroomman.
"Magic is completely different! Psionics are all about the power of mind, and using it to interact with the world in a simplistic way. Magic, oh magic…" They let out a wishful sigh. "First and foremost, it's unique for everyone. All of the magicals had an affinity, sometimes more or less specific. Let's take my friend, Stetmann for example, he is a scientist focusing on the mechanical side of things. He is capable of creating electro currents, but also can shape metal on a micro scale, making him capable of doing something usually only machines can do."
"Magic is all about manipulating the world around oneself, in a more or less drastic way. Usually our capabilities are limited by our mind only. As of right now, We can create and shape spores, as other mushrooms do, and create a proto mushroom network, but anything more? I still need to think…" Wit's words drifted off, pausing the dialogue for a moment. Nope, nothing came to his mind, eureka was yet to come.
"But Our brother? For a long time, he just passively affected the minds of those around him, and nothing more, but now? He started to affect his surroundings for real! Thanks to the eternally useful culture and all forms of art, Dobromir finally figured out what he could actually do. Kind of telekinesis though not too strong, and words! Using a legendary game, he finally found some use for his forever talkative mouth."
Speaking of the Infected, there he was rushing to their current place. Every so often, his increased speed would quickly peter out, causing him to shout and run at more than full speed yet again.
"There is also Our sister, looking at her now, it seems that she went into fire category, watch! She is even leaving contrails, I guarantee you that on a closer look you will witness all of the glory of Our family."
They waited for a minute in silence… And a minute is all the others needed. Dobromir stopped before them, not tired in the slightest. His zergy body took care of the fatigue, and his overly talkative nature prevented him from being out of breath.
Shortly after, Jaruga stopped suddenly before them, almost kissing the ground. On hands and knees and out of breath, she breathed deeply for a few seconds. In a blink of an eye she regained all of her vigor like it was nothing, And quickly yanked two sets of her own feathers.
"Here," She thrusted one pair in Wit's hands, "Here." And did the same for Dobromir. "I will find some use of them, maybe, at some later time. Now, I am in an even bigger rush, everything needs to be ready by tomorrow. Astalavista." She walked a little away, to the place her two companions just arrived, wheezing in both cases. "Things to do, little time, play nice with them, you two!"
And she left even stronger contrail behind her, probably because she left her cumbersome luggage behind. The other two seemed to have a limited capability for any kind of interaction for now.
Dobromir looked at the three feathers in hand, thoughts and options swirling in his mind. Wit just loosened Their outfit around the chest a little, and tucked it right there. The feathers fused themself with the body and… just remained there, akin to three thick chest hair.
An Epiphany! Very carefully with fingers and a bit of magic, Dobromir split every feather in two, and held it in the area just under his nose. The feathers fused with his body, and gave him a rather comical look before he focused. His skin started rippling and weaving, and the feathers seemed to be completely hidden from outside. But! Just after a few seconds, the hairs sputed from around his upper lip, creating a mustache! Sure it wasn't too abundant, and sure the color of red, orange and silver were weirdly intertwined, but…
"HAHAHAH! A facial hair, finally! Take that, stupid zerg biology! Normal, healthy hair finally adorns my misshapen face!" This was followed by a myriad of different winning poses with arm muscles bulging in every single one of them. The sounds of "Yeah!" and "Oh yes!" weren't lacking either.
"I could not wish for a finer research specimen than you, little miss."
"I have a name, you know?"
"And did I hear it even once?" Her reply was only a 'harrumph'. "So a little missy it is."
The little pilot was still chained to her warden, and both were at the field tent arranged close to the Po'midorian space port. Overall, most of the ships were created, stored and maintained inside the facility, underground. The aboveground consisted of many, many elevators, of all shapes and sizes that were taking the ships inside and outside the facility.
For safety reasons and yada, yada, The Chief Researcher of the Po'Midor was forced to take her field lab from home and bring it there. The giant command center was still in the cosmos, waiting for a landing to be cleared out and secured, just in case.
Dobromir was, of course, let in without problems but the rest of his companions had to wait a little longer. Maria wasn't out of breath and fully energetic, despite practically rushing here as fast as she could. Studying a zerg infection in progress, and a seriously slowed one in that, was a one chance in a million.
And as her nameless charge was probed, prodded… had fluids taken out and injected in… A myriad of scans of all kinds… The infected woman, slowly but surely gaining awareness over the span of weeks, looked around. Very close stood some soldiers, albeit wearing mostly melee weapons instead of ranged. They were… not as guarded as aggressive as they should be, really. Or maybe they knew something she didn't.
In the vicinity besides the flat catches of elevators, she saw fields of grass and… flowers? A brief memory flashed in her mind, vanishing almost instantly. Shrugging that feeling off, she looked at the forest line that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, in a big, big circle. Also, a considerable distance away was a dense groping of… blocks. A place where people were living… a lot of people.
Her mind drifted away again, though this time her eyes stared not at the beautiful stars, but the vibrant flowers, barely swaying in the gentle wind. Somehow, she never felt more peaceful. Reaching a shallow zen state, she stood there as her charge whined, complined and trashed sometimes this way and that.
"I stand before you, and you stand before me. Our level of knowledge about each other wouldn't excel the bare minimum. So, as loose acquaintances, I welcome you to lesson zero, teached by student for students. I hope that our cooperation will become fruitful, void of any unpleasant experiences."
The triplets looked at him with annoyance. Nahida's face didn't betray any particular emotion, she just wanted to know why he was speaking using overly and over the top words… And Trixie…
"Trixie must you stop right there! This is a bad influence left by the old witches and wizened coots! Merlin the 13th! Return to your senses! Don't forget who you were!"
The forest clearing they were in fell silent for a moment, not even a gentle breeze accompanying this event. Nahida, conquered by curiosity, formed with her fingers a square to look through, like a weird lens.
"Respectable Miss, being incredibly polite is hardly a sin-"
After a certain discovery, Nahida leaned over and whispered to the closest triplet, Dixie, "Something is actually clouding his mind." As the pointless back and forth continued, Dixie considered her options. Noddin towards her Info Giver, she slipped away, unseen by her target.
Rolling a few to the side, and then forward, Dixie completed her Half Circle of Sneaky Tumbles. Creeping towards her target, she took a deep breath, intervened her fingers, raised above her head and leapt into the air. With a shouted "Healthy Bash!" She landed a hit on her target, sending him sprawling to the ground, unconscious.
She received a nod from the white and green adorned girl, and a thumbs up with the biggest grins from her sisters. Trixie just sighed. "Oh well, I guess talking wouldn't make much difference anyway."
As Dixie left her target, Trixie walked over to the prone man, and checked him over. "Welp, he's unconscious. You better prepare some fruits for him as an apology." She turned back and saw their pouts, together with crossed arms. "Just because you were right didn't mean he needed to suffer trauma to his head. Now, do as Trixie said!"
With some groans, the triplets left, leaving the white haired duo along with the unconscious man. Compelled with a hand gesture to explain, Nahia walked forward towards the prone person and caressed his head, focusing on something.
"He was… compelled by something, or someone, to speak only the nicest and most respectable words. It's mostly harmless, but still unpleasant." She looked at Trixie again, seeing a questioning brow raised. "It's gone now, he should be fine." Looking at him again, she added "Mostly."
"Trixie sometimes wonders why her predictions are so specific and show only a very small piece of the future, bereft of any surroundings. Anyway, stay with him, Trixie will bring the extra students."
"Sooo… Dear and only brother of mine, why aren't you rushing around like our dear and only sister? We are pretty sure that you have just as much, if not even more matters to deal with."
"Pshaw", Dobromir waved his hand up and down, showing his nonchalance towards the matter. "My matters are so individualistic, that they deal with themselves. And headaches are just a natural occurrence when dealing with anything related to me."
Yes, Mina was still catching breath. No, Miko already recovered, though she didn't have an easy way to communicate with others, yet. There wasn't something like a universal translator, those needed to be tailored to every species separately, and then tweaked a little more for each individual. Creating one for a fox who hardly was present on the planet was certainly beyond anyone's business. Though maybe she should start forming words in mid-air, but how, exactly? She could turn herself into a mist, but something else, hm…
And double yes, Dobromir noticed the two additional little shrooman in his sibling's party. He was a dense idiot, but certainly not stupid nor brain dead. His sibling Protoss companion, on the other hand… He took a few exaggerated steps forwards, like walking towards a particularly panicky animal, and leaned towards her.
She leaned back, which was probably the most similar action that both Protoss and Terran would do. Only the assuring little hand squeezing her own made her stand ground. When she heard from Wit about Their infected sibling, she expected something… she didn't know. More wild? Cold and calculating? Instead she met an intense personality, similar to some of her more older and eccentric brethren.
"Hmmm…" he gently lifted her hand with his own, looking rather intensely at her skin. She knew better than to make any moves under scrutinization of… potentially deranged individuals. "Her skin is smooth, undoubtedly marking her as young, and female." He left her alone, taking a step back. If she had a lung she would- 'Sigh' she slowly turned her head towards her little talking in-between. The little one subconsciously shared his feeling with her, making her actually experience exhaling an air. Wow. Just… words, failed her.
Dobromir, not noticing or simply ignoring this, turned towards his sibling. "Even if only on hologram, I did see Raszagal and her skin was far from smooth. Doubling it with her 'voice' and way of 'talking' I can safely assume that she was old. I did see some protoss varieties briefly during our skirmishes with UED, but I couldn't guess their ages for the life of me. Tell me dear sibling, for someone with much more experience, how old could she ever be?"
Wit didn't even look at Vella, instead the eyes behind the mask turned towards the sky. "Average protoss lives approximately for one thousand years. High Matriarch Raszagal remembers how Adun, instead of murdering the protoss against Khala, helped them escape to Shakuras where they come to Nerazime. She is the oldest protoss that we know of. Artanis is young, but definitely an adult. I wager he can't be older than three hundred years. Now, protoss stop being 'younglings', as in kids, when reaching hundred years, or passing a trial in the Templar caste. At the end of the day…" He turned back towards Vella. "You are somewhere around 150 years old, right?"
She was feeling bashful, but why? She turned her head to the side, avoiding anyone's eyes and nodded. Being treated… dismissively was practically doubled in her case, compared to her 'peers'.
"You are already older than almost all humans, but if we compare the lifespans and culture, you are more or less our age." Wit nodded to Dobromir's words. "Anyway."
The infected turned around, directing his gaze at a certain four legged companion of his sister. "Tell me, my orange friend, did our sister adopt anyone into the family?" Miko shook her head… then stopped, tilting her head to the side, thinking. She nodded again, just without full confidence. "So not yet, but maybe eh?"