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Keldulas posted:I can't help but feel that a hellhound leather jacket is just going to get Fuzzy MORE attention. "Oh, this thing? Yeah, I went deep into Pullayup to take it down". It would also have a pretty heavy "don't gently caress with me" energy, though, so it might cancel out. I imagine it would also be pretty resistant to fire, which would make fighting more easier!
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Apr 8, 2020 03:28
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Ice Phisherman posted:The history of the Irish potato blight has a lot to do with capitalism for example. Steak and potatoes were the main staples of the Irish and because potatoes are so nutritious, the Irish could eat them and would be taller, better built and more attractive than their English counterparts because their diet was better. But they would experience crop failures and go into famine because potatoes were prone to crop failures. You don't need to go back to the potato famine for that. This is ongoing right now, with farmers destroying food because they can't sell it, while food banks are struggling to make ends meet: https://www.npr.org/sections/thesalt/2020/04/03/826006362/food-shortages-nope-too-much-food-in-the-wrong-places Capitalism doesn't care about meeting peoples' basic needs, only about capital. The Grapes of Wrath also has a section that is very apt to what's happening there: quote:“The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country. Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.
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Apr 8, 2020 07:57
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha and Chip - Tuesday, August 20th, 2075 – Morning – Blake Island At the appointed hour, at the appointed place, after consulting with worried elders who could not accompany them for this task, five people ducked their heads to enter a mud hut that deceived in its outward simplicity. It was an implement of the shaman, serving as barrier, container and stage to do great magic. In their hands, each carried a simple gift, covered by colorful cloth. Their garb was equally simple. Not ritual garb, but comfortable, for the process would take hours. Already prepared was a hill of reagents in the center of the hut: Beach stones, plant cuttings, bones, shells and other pieces of the natural world that inside, magic had pooled. These were there to keep the ritual from harming those performing it, at least overmuch and had been deemed safe. For it was a great working and this hill would be depleted before the shamans. They all sat down in order of their giving, give to the right, receive from the left, in a rough circle around that pile on rough hewn logs. Julie sat next to Kenji, who sat next to Chip, who sat next to Fuzzy, who sat next to Sasha, who completed the circle by sitting next to Julie. While everyone else sat, Kenji stood, head nearly brushing the top of the hut. He’d learned the ritual and was therefore ritual leader. “Sup?” he asked. Sasha pulled a face. “Sup?” she asked, incredulously, “I thought this was supposed to be a big, important ritual.” “It is,” he said, “But what we’re putting together is about friends. I don’t want to make it anything other than what it is.” Sasha rolled her eyes, but smiled. Then she looked to Fuzzy, whose hand she held, threading fingers tightly. Sasha had been groggy yesterday, but had made time after downing a few caffeinated drinks. It had been a good day for both of them. “So what do we do?” asked Fuzzy. “Talk, catch up, give gifts, invite bigass spirits to show up, have a party, you know, normal poo poo.” “I’m still a little worried about the spirits,” said Julie. Not that Julie was going to dissuade them all from trying to contact a few mentor spirits. Julie needed to talk to them to gain insight, though she wondered if the process would allow for her to talk alone. Julian and Mother Bear hadn’t been clear on that as these were spirits with a will. “Bigass spirits,” said Kenji, with a wink. Julie quirked an eyebrow at him. She was on guard enough and rested enough that a wink from him wouldn’t make her stomach do flip-flops. The smile that followed afterwards was what did it. Julie was getting better about these things. “Fine,” she said, suppressing her feelings, “I’m worried about the bigass spirits.” “You should be,” he said, “They’re powerful, old and interested in people. Julian said that until the ritual is done that we shouldn’t go through any doors. We’re going to be in a kind of um...What do you call it…” Kenji snapped his fingers a few times to summon up the phrase. When that failed, he pulled out his commlink, checked his notes and then put it away again. “A liminal space,” he said, slowly, as if tasting those words, “A transitional space between one place and another.” “Oooh, big words,” teased Sasha. Fuzzy poked Sasha in the side with her free hand. She squeaked once and squirmed. “Be nice,” said Fuzzy. Everyone had a small laugh. “I’ve had to learn this stuff inside and out, so I’ve been able to learn a big words or two,” said Kenji, “The words weren’t as important as the feel though. This is more art than science. Anyway, liminal spaces means we’re going to be between things and it’s going to get weird and a little dangerous. Julian is going to keep watch from outside, but he’ll have a hard time getting in due to all of the magic being slung around and if he does, that may ruin the ritual.” Kenji looked to everyone in turn, his easy smile fading into seriousness. “Stranger danger rules apply. Don’t accept candy from strangers or anything until we settle on a mentor spirit, don’t get in any strange cars or on a horse or anything that moves so you won’t leave the space, don’t pledge yourself eternally to a bigass spirit, don’t step out of the space at all. Doors represent that. That also means any kind of archway, tunnel, hole, that sort of thing. Don’t do it. We may transition from one place to another and that’s okay, it’s the same space.” “Like VR,” said Sasha.” “Yeah, sort of like that, but with magic,” said Kenji, “You’re in the same space, but if you leave that space, someone is going to have to go get you.” “Sounds smart,” said Chip. “You know it,” said Kenji, “You feeling good, Chip? You ready for this?” Chip shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted, “I can cast magic, but ritual magic is different. I don’t know it. That means improvising. Normally I help people cast magic, but I have to cast it on my own as an equal participant this time. Spirits normally don’t do that. I could wait if you want. Maybe learn? It’s not a big deal.” “Nah, you’re in, not out,” said Kenji, “We’ll cover for you.” Chip couldn’t help but smile and through their emotional link, Julie sent him a few good feelings of encouragement. “You’re in,” said Julie. “Yeah,” said Sasha, “Definitely in.” “Very in,” said Fuzzy. Those good feelings rebounded, doubling in intensity each time before Julie had to cut their link. It was too intense and she wiped her eyes as tears formed at the corners, momentarily overwhelmed. Though there was one last thing before they started. Or perhaps, she wondered, had they already? Rituals could be strange that way. “How are your sinuses?” asked Julie, “Do you need me to take a look at them?” “Messed up,” said Kenji, “But stable. I’ll want some opinions on a decision later. For right now, I’m okay. I’m on some nasal spray that makes me feel less like everything is on fire, so that’s good.” Everyone nodded, everyone worried, but to Julie at least, Kenji seemed like the mask that he kept on so tightly was a little more loose than normal. He wasn’t relaxed, not exactly, but he was better at least. Julie figured that much. Kenji sat down and gestured to the cloth over his present. “Since I’m leading this thing, I’ll give my present first,” he said. He turned to Chip and grinned. “I picked you out of the hat, so here we go,” he said. Chip leaned over the cloth with interest. Then with a small flourish, he pulled the cloth aside. On his palm was a commlink, shiny and sleek. Chip frowned down at it. “Hey,” said Sasha, “I thought we all agreed that we wouldn’t spend more than fifty nuyen. Also, Chip can’t use commlinks.” “Yes we did and yes he can,” said Kenji, “First, we did agree not to spend that much. I got this by cashing in a favor. I didn’t spend anything. Second, this is a commlink that was designed for the blind, back when they were a lot more common. It was adapted for free spirits. Instead of a glass display, which Chip can’t see, the screen changes in texture. Literally a moving picture, the screen constantly shifts. It’s based on the same tech that Fuzzy’s uses for her spearknife. So what I present to you, my spirit of knowledge friend, is access to the matrix.” Chip took it gently, reverently and gave Kenji a hug. This dragged some aww’s from the girls, even if it was followed by a sigh from Sasha. “Did anyone else cheat on the gifts?” she asked. “It’s not cheating if you follow the rules in a clever way,” said Kenji, “That’s craft.” “Still…” “I’m just setting the bar,” said Kenji, “I don’t expect to do this every time, but I did want to start strong. I have a reputation to uphold.” Sasha didn’t look convinced, but Chip spoke up. “I stuck to it,” said Chip. “Thank you, Chip,” said Sasha, piously. Chip turned to Fuzzy, who sat next to him. Without any showmanship at all, he plucked the cloth from the top of his gift and revealed a pair of socks. “Socks?” asked Julie. “Yeah,” said Chip, “Special socks.” He handed them to Fuzzy, who took them. They looked like ordinary black socks. “What’s so special about them?” asked Fuzzy. “I asked around about what people who hike or hunt a lot might like,” said Chip, “And I went into a store with Devin and bought my very first thing ever. He showed me how. The staff were really nice. Anyway, these socks don’t rip, you can use the matrix to make them heat up or cool down, breathe or don’t and they wash easily.” “Oooh,” said Fuzzy, “Can I wear them?” “Sure,” said Chip. Without any preamble, Fuzzy took off her shoes and socks and replaced them with the black socks. After some technological fumbling, Sasha helped Fuzzy turn the temperature down on her socks before she put her shoes back on again.” “They’re comfy,” said Fuzzy. Chip beamed, they hugged and everyone clapped. After all of the stress, something wholesome and uncomplicated was what most of them needed. Soon it was Fuzzy’s turn. Having laid down her cloth covered present, she picked it up again and turned to Sasha. “Hey,” said Fuzzy, gently. “Hey back,” said Sasha. “Got you something.” Sasha smiled wryly. “Is it more than fifty nuyen?” Fuzzy had to think about it, frowning in concentration as she did the math in her head. “Maybe with labor?” she asked, “They’re handmade. Not materials though.” This seemed to mollify Sasha, who nodded, satisfied. Anxiously, Fuzzy pulled the cloth away to reveal a pair of brown running shoes. They were of a high quality, made of synthleather, loosely laced. “Running shoes?” asked Sasha. Fuzzy nodded. “You always seem so much happier after a run. I saw some shoes at the LARP for sale and that gave me the idea. They were all really cheap though.” Sasha beamed, took off her own shoes and slipped these on. In the quiet of the mud hut, she laced them up and walked around in them, stretching them this way and that. “Are they good?” asked Fuzzy. “Yeah, they’re really good,” said Sasha, “Who made them?” “Dad did,” she said, “Along with the smoking jackets.” “Hell yeah,” said Kenji, “Can’t wait to wear mine.” Sasha sat down, stared into Fuzzy’s eyes, leaned in and they shared a brief kiss. A simple expression of love and affection on display. There was some cheering and clapping. “Hey, if I have socks and you have shoes, that means we’re both a pair,” punned Fuzzy. Kenji laughed. Julie shook her head. Chip wasn’t sure about puns yet and so he reserved judgement. “Ugh,” groaned Sasha, “I want a kiss refund.” “No refunds,” said Fuzzy, with a giggle. After swatting at Fuzzy, Sasha picked up her gift as she’d been walking around as well. Her anxiety was plain to see and she stared at Julie, the would-be recipient of the gift. “I uh…” began Sasha, “I mean, it’s more...Let me just show you.” Slowly, she revealed a white cowboy hat. “A hat?” asked Julie. “Yeah, uh…” began Sasha, “Look, it’s not...I mean...drat it, I’m babbling. In hacker lore, a lot of the old hackers were called cowboys and they split into different camps based on their moral code and how they composed themselves. You had your black hats, who harm people, steal and generally act like assholes. You have your white hats, who protect people. They’ll still break into a system, but they’ll do it to make sure it’s safe. Doing good outside of the law.” Sasha idly toyed with the brim of the hat before finally handing it to Julie. “You called me. I helped the best I could, but you kept people from getting hurt. You risked yourself. And I’m proud to call you my friend.” Cheeks blazing, but not showing due to her dark skin, Julie donned her white hat. “How’s the fit?” asked Sasha, a little too quickly. “It’s good,” said Julie, quietly, “Real good.” “It’s not dumb?” asked Sasha. “No, no,” said Julie, feeling the weight of it on her head, “I like it.” Julie sniffed hard. It wasn’t about the hat. It was the recognition that mattered to her. They hugged and Julie accidentally bonked Sasha with the brim, but neither seemed to care. Julie came away humbled while Sasha looked extremely pleased with herself. Everyone clapped. “I want to hear this story,” said Kenji. “Yeah,” said Fuzzy. “Maybe later,” said Julie, “During the party?” This seemed to satisfy them both. Though Chip piped up. “Hey, I was there,” said Chip, “Do I get a hat?” “I ordered an extra in case, you know…” said Sasha, “You can have it if you want.” “Does it match?” asked Chip. “It should, yeah.” “Thanks.” When everyone calmed, Julie was left last. She would complete the circle by giving her gift to Kenji. Truth be told, it had been extremely difficult to get a gift for the guy that she liked, even if he was with someone else. Nothing had ever felt quite right and she’d agonized over this since the act of gift giving had been incorporated into the ritual. Even more when she learned that she’d have to give something to Kenji. Her gift was small, easily hidden by the cloth, which outlined her palm. Then without a word, she pulled it back to reveal a simple steel ring. There was some silence between them, Julie’s eyes downcast at the ring itself. The silence stretched and Julie found herself temporarily robbed of her ability to speak. And as that silence stretched, Kenji filled it. “A ring, huh?” “Uhh...Yeah,” she said, “And a promise.” Julie began to panic, because she didn’t want it to come out like that. So she began tripping over her words. “Not like that!” she exclaimed, “I mean, I mean…” “Kenji raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Pick your words,” he said, gently, “The ritual is going to last most of the day. It’s okay.” With a deep breath, Julie nodded and tried to calm down. Eventually she managed, though she had embarrassed herself and would probably lose sleep thinking about this moment for the next few nights. “I talked to Mr. Peters,” said Julie, “I’ve been picking up bags of trash and he likes that and...Well, he gives out focuses for it. A little magical enhancement. Big ones too if you do enough. Well, I asked if I could give them to someone else and he said yes. So...You know, he’ll make it for you. Just give him that ring and he’ll make whatever you want.” Julie dropped the ring into his hand. He tried to put it on, but it was a little too small for him. So he pocketed it and grinned at Julie. “I’ll get it resized,” he said, “That’s uh...That’s real great. Promise I won’t bankrupt your favor.” “Do it if you want,” she said, earnestly, “Use it all up if you want.” This left Kenji suddenly shy. His normal smile was replaced by a small, understated one. Unable to speak, he just hugged Julie. There was some cheering and clapping and it was all to the good. “That was really nice,” said Fuzzy. “I think you just got owned, Kenji,” said Sasha, “That’s worth way more than a commlink. It’s not cheating, it’s craft, right?” Kenji threw his hands up in surrender. “I’ll just have to do better next time,” he admitted. That was that. The circle was completed. The ritual wasn’t done, but this was the first step to completing the process. Julie felt a crackle of magic in the air, the feeling positively electric, the hairs on her arm briefly standing on end. She wasn’t the only one. Sasha’s mouth dropped open and she smiled, childlike, in wonder. Chip was surprised as well and extended one of his hands, moving it like one would through a stream to test the water. “It’s amazing,” said Sasha. “Yeah,” said Chip. “What is?” asked Julie. “It’s like a...Like a…” said Sasha, words momentarily failing her. “It’s like a warm blanket,” said Chip, “If a blanket were a river made of magic.” “Yeah…” sighed Sasha, dreamily, "Or...It's that first kiss and it's so right, but made up of clouds." Fuzzy and Kenji couldn’t see into the astral. They couldn’t experience it. Julie hesitated, not wanting to leave them behind. Kenji seemed to read this, that small, understated smile, a mere ghost of a smile even, played across his face. “Maybe I’ll see it next time.” "Next time?" asked Julie. "Yeah, we might induct more members," said Kenji, "And next time, Fuzzy and I will be ready for it." Fuzzy was currently smiling up at Sasha, reveling in her delight. “I could learn if I wanted," he said, "I'm happy that Sasha and Chip are happy." “Yeah,” said Fuzzy, “Oh, wait, maybe that could be your focus from Mr. Peters? You could see the astral with a focus, right?” “Suppose I could,” said Kenji, patting the ring in his pocket. As they spoke, Julie looked to Sasha, whose mouth was open. Tears streamed down her eyes in joy. Chip reveled in the experience and he wanted to share his feelings with her. For the briefest moment, she allowed it. It was lovely. “It’s like eating a hot meal after a cold day prepared by someone who loved you,” said Julie. “Like falling in love again,” whispered Sasha, “That moment when you just know, distilled.” “Like eating new fruit,” said Chip. The feeling changed from moment to moment, positive and warm. That change wasn’t drastic, but it was like looking at a gem. It was the same gem, but multi-faceted, each revealing a new sparkle. And Julie was only experiencing it through Chip, who like Sasha, couldn’t help but see the magic of the ritual. And then, with an act of will, she opened her own astral sight and gasped in delight. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 07:25 on Aug 16, 2020 |
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Apr 9, 2020 00:07
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Hell yeah it's happening!  At first I thought the beginning felt a little over the top, and I wondered how long you were going to keep that tone. But then the "Sup" happened, and I recognized your sense of humor. I chuckled  I think we voted from them to go on a group run at some point? This update makes me want to see them go on a group run at some point. Silly Julie, presenting Kenji with a ring and not thinking through how that conversation was going to go. Kenji gives one of the best gifts and gets one of the best gifts. Feels appropriate. But also, if there's any way we can get the rest of the cast to help Julie out, we need to. Julie puts everyone before herself.  (I say this knowing full well we voted for this to happen.)
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Apr 9, 2020 02:33
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Dr Subterfuge posted:Hell yeah it's happening! I'm glad that you liked that. I'm pretty anti woo. I've done a deep dive on a lot of different religions in the past year and don't want to hijack peoples' religious traditions. It feels crude. So while there is the observance of some form of ritual, the ritual itself is about friendship and it would be weird if the ritual got in the way of emotional bonding. [quote]I think we voted from them to go on a group run at some point? This update makes me want to see them go on a group run at some point. We're going to have a vote on something that could lead us down that path very soon, actually. Probably in the next few updates. There's a lot of votes and I do try to get to them, but some can't always fit into the narrative. So I'll kick the can and try to put them in the story at some point. Sasha getting out and trying to establish an identity so she can be out in the world for example is still a thing for example. It's just hard to mix the CYOA format and writing sometimes. Apologies that it takes a long time.
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Apr 9, 2020 02:54
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha and Chip - Monday, August 19th, 2075 – Noon – Liminal Space In the astral, Julie saw magic infused with the positivity of mutual friendship. It was so thick in the air from the spell that she felt like she could touch it. For a fleeting few minutes, Julie, Sasha and Chip enjoyed something truly special and difficult to describe other than in clumsy metaphor. Fuzzy and Kenji, unable to see the astral, were not left out. In this space, so teeming with magic, plunging deeper into that liminal state, not fully physical or magical, a place between places, the magic of the astral began to leak into the physical world as the teens began to leak into the magical one. Small swirls of color here and there, but as the ritual built in intensity, the magic grew as thick as fog and left Kenji and Fuzzy enraptured by its beauty. The two had their own metaphors, their own look into something beautiful. As it turned out, that feeling was fleeting. Julie, Sasha and Chip recovered from their wonder after a time and then, later, after inadequate but heartfelt descriptions, so did Fuzzy and Kenji. No one could say how long exactly for time was stretching out into meaninglessness. They grew accustomed to those feelings and it became a pleasant hum in their heads, hearts and bellies, almost alcoholic in its giddiness, but without the loss of coordination. It was a thing of beauty shared by all, though not all experienced it all at once. With that sharing came the intensifying of magic, causing a positive feedback loop which filled the space with even more magic. So at Kenji’s urging, stories that had been planned for the party were being told now. “Uhh, so I was whipping this guy around in the air,” said Julie, awkwardly, minutes, hours, days or years later, “Levitation won’t really hurt anyone unless I drop them, but I was able to scare them.” Ritual was about focused intent and willpower. Some might expect chanting or singing, the banging of instruments and there was some truth to that. Those tended to be older styles of ritual. Modern ritual could basically be anything though so long as they involved intent and concentration on the task at hand. So Kenji had decided that Julie’s story could not wait, that it brought Julie and Sasha closer together and that this would serve the ritual and pass the time both. Though time in this place was slippery. “He was really screaming,” said Sasha, “Pretty sure he wet himself too.” “Nice,” said Fuzzy. Fuzzy and Sasha were all smiles. Not just from the ritual, but because they were truly together for the first time in weeks. For the first time, Fuzzy saw what Sasha saw all the time and decided that it was good. They held hands, fingers laced, but hadn’t folded into their own little world to the exclusions of all others that couples so often do. Instead they engaged with the conversation. Kenji on the other hand, his own astral signature damaged, was on display for everyone to see. Though that it was his soul itself that was damaged was beyond the teens, it was startling at first as all wounds were. However, like the beauty of this place, they all grew accustomed, for what flowed around inside of him was good, just like everyone else, filling those damaged spaces, reminding her of flowers in cracked concrete. The conversation faltered for a moment. Time had slipped away, but the feeling of admiration that Julie had felt from her friends had not and it made the gift of Sasha's hat all the more welcome on her head. That there was a rightness to it. And this was to the good as well, for she could see it in not only in others, but in herself, for reading one's own emotions was something that was normally impossible. So Julie could see the recognition, the admiration and her own gratitude. These emotions were affirming and the understanding of herself and others were not perfect, but at least better than normal. Meanwhile, threaded in the air in the astral, emanating from Fuzzy and Sasha as they looked at one another, were red threads of love. On occasion, Julie had seen this in others, always different. Kenji’s new affection for Saanvi burned bright, Krupa’s feelings for Joyce were more muted and tinged with doubt, but Fuzzy and Sasha’s was further adding to the nuance of the ambient magic with something she'd not seen yet. Those feelings, normally contained within a person, were leaking out into the empty space in the mud hut and this was something new, for those feelings had always been contained within a person before. Again, Julie reminded herself that this was not fully the physical world, not fully the astral and so what was impossible elsewhere became possible. The feelings of love wove together from each of the young women mingled so tightly that as that strand got longer, it was not only difficult to tell where one thread ended and another began, but Julie was sure that it had become something new and something wholly its own. Again she was struck by her faith, which told her that the love that Fuzzy and Sasha was sinful, wrong, but she could literally see it in the air like a chord, threading with other feelings from the others. She almost reached out to touch it, to perhaps experience what that kind of love would be like, but shied away, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Then that thread brushed across her cheek and for a moment, just the barest moment, she understood what it was like to love and be loved in return. Not something that burned hot and bright, unsustainable, but something comfortable. No, beyond comfortable. The total trust and confidence in one another reinforced by love. “Julie?” asked Kenji. Julie started and with her astral sight up, could see little blue lines of panic, jagged in their appearance emanate from her body. Everyone noticed this and a few briefly pulled away, each getting their own taste of Julie’s feelings. “What’s happening?” asked Julie, nervously. “Our identities are blurring a little,” said Kenji, “Julian said this might happen. Nothing critical, but it might be uncomfortable. Tell your story, affirm your identity and you’ll tamp down on it.” Despite the reassurance, Julie worried that this would disrupt the ritual, which caused even more worry to flood out of her which polluted the area with her shed emotions. Kenji reached through them with an effort of will and patted her shoulder. “It’s fine,” said Kenji, “Keep going.” “Yeah,” said Fuzzy. Julie looked to Sasha, still feeling guilty, but she wanted to touch that red thread again. Too late though, for it had dissolved into the thick fog of magic. Not gone, not beyond feeling. Instead it had become more nuance to the fog, like adding seasoning to soup, forever changing its character. “I hit a guy in the face with a dirty diaper,” said Chip. There were gasps of shock and laughter, including from Julie who hadn’t seen that. The yellow of joy rippled out in staccato bursts. The catharsis of laughter became a wind that churned the ambient magic and gave the feeling to Julie at least of churning that fog into something more like cream. “You didn’t!” exclaimed Julie. “And I fastened it behind his head,” said Chip, a bit smugly, “He ripped it off though. I was hoping he’d run around like an idiot, but he actually kept his cool.” “Trash on trash violence,” snarked Sasha. More laughter and Julie admired Chip’s fine control and it made her curious about something, her own emotional link with Chip. Kenji had warned about the blurring of personality and that was why she kept her emotional link with Chip down most of the time. So, curious, she tested their emotional link and sent a mental hello. It was a high speed burst, cutting quickly through that cream. Quick as a bullet in fact and nearly impossible to see even when looking for it. When he sent one back, Julie almost fell over from the shock. “What is that?” asked Sasha. Julie straightened out. “The emotional link that Chip and I share,” said Julie, “Apparently it’s really quick.” “I would’ve expected something like a chord,” said Fuzzy, “You know, like the string and the cans from science class.” “When did you do that?” asked Kenji. “Over the summer in AR science class,” said Fuzzy, “I didn’t do it, but I saw it get done. Then I did the can and string experiment with Sasha.” “It was super cute,” said Sasha, with a giggle, "We talked through cans." "Whispering sweet nothings?" teased Kenji. Sasha smiled knowingly. "Oh, it was definitely something." Fuzzy blushed prettily and looked away, but didn't look displeased. “I kind of always figured it would be like an umbilical,” said Julie. Fuzzy tilted her head curiously at Julie. “That’s not a vocab word,” said Fuzzy. Sasha looked to Fuzzy, wincing slightly. “You know that’s sort of…What little kids say, right?” asked Sasha. Fuzzy blinked a few times, the pink of her cheeks fading. “Really?” “Yeah.” “What do you say when you don’t know a word?” “I don’t. Usually I look it up.” “I say absolutely nothing and don’t even do that,” said Kenji. Julie rolled her eyes. “You have a commlink on you that has the entire dictionary on it…” “Oh, multiple dictionaries,” said Kenji, “I’m still learning Cantonese.” “And you don’t look up words?” Kenji folded his arms behind his head and leaned back a little, smiling. “I think it gives me a real measure of control when I could learn a thing, but don’t on purpose,” he said, “I already live at school. I don’t want to, you know...Live at school.” Julie had already rolled her eyes and didn’t want to do that again, so she sighed instead. “Fair,” she admitted, grudgingly, “It wouldn’t kill you though.” “It would make me less cool,” he said, “The kids here are vicious. Being less cool might actually kill me. It’s a mindset I have to preserve.” Julie opened her mouth to disagree, remembered Minuet and shut her mouth. But the affirmation of identity did tamp down the leak of emotions even if the story had faltered in the telling. Still, she'd probably get asked about it later during the party. It had that kind of feeling to it. Still, the good feelings and laughter kept that sweet cream texture of the astral, no, the air itself, churning. Oddly Julie could still see through it and move through it physically with ease, but it was as if she was moving through the astral with her astral body at the same time. Moving was an act of willpower and moving too much sapped her willpower. That was when she realized that she actually was exerting effort. The ritual was a task and that task was taxing. “Okay, yeah, fair,” she said. The annoyance she felt was contained inside of her for the moment. “How’s your sinuses?” she asked. “Feels like someone poured lead into my face,” said Kenji, with a careless shrug, “Had an awkward conversation with Julian. He didn’t remember the dust when I told him about it even though he took the extra from me. I think it got stolen or something.” “Ugh,” groaned Sasha, “It hurt my eyes.” “Yeah, less said. It was creepy and I'm glad it's gone,” said Kenji, “Anyway, I’m thinking about getting some bioware in my face to replace what’s missing.” There was a pause as everyone looked at him. What he was talking about would damage his magic. None of them had cyberware, bioware or had gone through gene therapy. Purity of the body meant purity of soul, or at least of the connection to the soul and that purity allowed for easier development of magic. There were some students on the island who were body purists and prized their magic above all else since any mods damaged your magic, but most had quality of life mods. “Talked it over with Julian?” asked Sasha, oh-so casually. “I mean, a bit,” he said, “He said yeah, better sooner than later. My magic is about mid-tier, so it’ll take effort to restore it compared to a newbie, but I don’t use it that much and since my magic is all body focused. Most adepts get extra 'ware. I do a little damage and since that damage is uh...Tiered…” “Tiered?” asked Fuzzy. “Yeah, like steps,” said Kenji, “You have to put in more ‘ware before you step down again. Or uh, maybe think about it like a hole. Putting in all of that tech creates the hole and then you can fill it up, but it you fill up too much, it makes a new hole where more of your magic used to be.” “Oooooh,” said Fuzzy, “So you just don’t fill it up too much and you can have tech.” “Yeah,” said Kenji, “You’ll do damage, but you can keep it minimal. I mean, I can manage this with meds and I can get surgery for the pain, but…” “Quality of life?” asked Julie. “Yeeeeah,” sighed Kenji, “If I was back in the ACHE I’d just deal because that’s what everyone did, but I was told that unless I’m on meds I’m going to have sinus infections and respiratory infections a lot. The doctor flat out didn’t know what to make of it until I said I’d come from the ACHE and didn’t ask any more questions after that. Just switched his brain off as soon as I admitted where I was from.” Fuzzy grunted in agreement. “I know what that’s like,” she said, “I say I’m from east Puyallup and if people know what that means, they step cautiously around me. Even get scared.” “Is it really that bad?” asked Chip. Fuzzy made a dismissive gesture. “It’s home,” said Fuzzy, “If you say you’re from Puyallup, most people think you live in the slums right next to Tacoma. There’s a big band of SINless that live on the north edge of Puyallup near Tacoma that commute and work for starvation wages wages. So most people assume if you say you’re from Puyallup that you’re a uh…” “Wage slave,” said Kenji. Fuzzy made a face and nodded. “Yeah,” said Fuzzy, “Almost half a million people crammed into where the ash blows from Mount Rainier are the lightest. But if you don’t mind the ash or don’t have a choice, you spread out through the rest. I bet there’s not more than a thousand people in East Puyallup.” “Apocalyptic rural girl,” said Kenji, with a wink. Fuzzy groaned in exasperation. “I don’t know what that means.” There was a little lighthearted bickering that went on for a time as people tried to explain what that meant: Minutes or years, but the stretch wasn’t terrible. The air was filled with joy so time was a joy to move through, no matter how fast or slow. “Hey,” said Sasha, anxiously, “What would all of you think if I got some cyberware?” Everyone looked at her. “What kind?” asked Chip. Sasha looked down and plucked at her shirt with her free hand. “I don’t suppose any of you would know what would help me with panic attacks? I mean, I know I should check it, but every time I try it reminds me that I have them and that can uh...” She made a little strangled noise in her throat. Fuzzy squeezed her hand. “Trigger them,” she said, quietly, “I mean I took some meds before I came so I’d be good, so no problems. I just figured…” Through the sweet cream, Julie saw it. Inside of Sasha was this emotional knot, all thorns and constricting force of grey-green and sickly pink. It looked a lot like a tumbleweed turning, but not going anywhere. It was small at the moment, but still there. Julie pulled from her memories. As a mental exercise and just for fun, she’d researched the topic beforehand. She was that type of person. So she cleared her throat and got everyone’s attention. “There are cybernetics and bioware that could work to suppress your anxiety,” began Julie, “Remember that I’m not acting as a licensed cyberware or bioware specialist or even a doctor. This is just what I’ve read.” Sasha’s attention became laser focused. “Okay…” said Sasha, “I’m listening.” “There are for instance, certain drug glands that could be implanted in your body,” explained Julie, “This is the cheapest option other than taking pills and they could produce high quality pharmaceuticals. It’s what people with long term illnesses tend to get because it’s cheaper than buying over the counter all of your life, but you still have to visit a psychiatrist for them to check on you and adjusting dosage means minor surgery. Drug glands that give constant doses are easier. As needed medication is trickier and is generally not suggested because it’s easy to overdose.” “No cyberware that does that?” asked Sasha. “Technically,” she said, “You could install a tiny machine fabricator in your body, but you’d need to fill it with raw materials, so you’d still need the drug glands or a port-a-cath installed. Filling up the fabricator with a port-a-cath needs a licensed medical technician to properly fill. It’s old tech really and people don’t use the fabbers much anymore. Better just to get the drug glands.” “Drugs with extra steps, got it,” said Sasha. “Yeah, cyberware doesn’t help much in this case,” said Julie, “There’s the pain editor, but that’s forbidden military tech only and it comes with nasty side-effects. You couldn’t feel any pain at all when it’s active and pain is useful for telling you that something is wrong.” Julie racked her brain for other options, but she knew the one that she’d eventually land on. Still, Julie wanted to give her all of her options as best she understood them even though she’d made it clear that she wasn’t an expert, just well read. “You could get a gut flora replacement,” said Julie, “Gut flora is strongly tied to depression and anxiety, but changing gut flora safely takes years and even with modern tech it’s still not perfectly understood. It’s the slow and expensive option. It can also lead to permanent personality changes.” “From...Messing with your stomach?” asked Kenji. “Yeah,” said Julie, “Thinking with your gut isn’t just a turn of phrase.” “Huh,” said Kenji, "Makes sense." “How much you change,” continued Julie, “If at all, depends from person to person. So in terms of magic, it’s minimally invasive and can yield some extremely positive side-effects. Some damage to your essence too, but you can recover to where you were with time and practice, though your upper limit will be harder to expand. That goes for the drug glands too of course.” “I don’t want to be the best at magic,” said Sasha, “Enhancement magic has limits on how much they can enhance a person. I’m where I’m at right now in terms of raw power. I mostly just want to learn new spells: Strength, agility, intuition, willpower, that sort of stuff. I already have logic, charisma and reflexes.” “When did you get reflexes?” asked Fuzzy. “Over the summer before I joined Coach Bolt’s class,” said Sasha, “I just haven’t had a reason to use it yet other than some practice.” “Fast like me?” asked Fuzzy. “No, but close,” said Sasha, “I could cast it on other people though.” “Super Sasha," said Chip, “Lifting cars, running up buildings...” “Uhh...More like...Maybe peak human performance without cyberware or bioware or whatever if I cast the spell well,” said Sasha, bashfully, “I’m pretty average in the physical department.” “You’re not average. You’re beautiful,” cooed Fuzzy. Now it was Sasha's turn to blushed. Kenji chuckled. “Right in time with that compliment,” he said, “Very smooth.” Sasha cleared her throat loudly, cheeks blazing. “ANYWAY. For strength and stuff I was thinking mostly about other people. You know, like in MMO’s, you buff people?” “Like in the LARPs?” asked Fuzzy, excitedly, “Like on me? Could I be really, really fast?” “It would make you very slightly faster, but your body would reject going too much faster if you’re using your magic. Eventually I could make you way stronger or accurate. Or I could cast two or three spells on someone at once to make them faster, stronger, more accurate, tougher all at once. Or maybe smart, savvy and intuitive.” “Whoa,” said Fuzzy. "That's useful," said Kenji. “Yeah, it really can be. Or at least that’s the plan anyway. Maybe I'll branch out into medical spells when I'm done with those since they're all health spells, but that's most likely years down the road. I’d have a hard time doing it to myself because I’d have to concentrate. So yeah, enhancement based shamans are usually middling in terms of raw power, but very practiced. Bouncing back from damage to my magic shouldn’t be too bad.” As Fuzzy closed her eyes and flexed, fantasizing about super strength. Unable to help herself, Sasha reached over and squeezed her bicep. Julie cleared her throat to get the conversation back on track. “As I was saying, in terms of your wallet and personality, a gut flora transplant, even a partial one, can be extremely invasive.” Sasha’s mood instantly soured, bicep forgotten. “Lots of damage,” said Sasha, bitterly, “I get it. It’s fine. This is hard.” Just raised a finger. “But!” asid Julie, “Geneware is probably best. It's very well understood tech.” “You want to make Sasha into a vatjob?” asked Kenji. Julie frowned. “That’s a mean word, Kenji,” admonished Julie. Kenji blinked. “It is?” “Yes, it is,” she sighed, “Try uhh...Metagenic maybe.” “I uh...Heard it all the time,” he said, “No one seemed put out.” “It’s crude.” Julie folded her arms and Kenji began to waver. “Well I hung out with a lot of crude people,” he said, but added quickly, “But okay, sure. Just...Meta...Genic. Okay. People really get bent out of shape about that?” “Some do. Some don’t.” Kenji considered this and nodded, filing that knowledge away for later. It was good to know low and high language just in case. “What’s the success rate?” asked Sasha. “Over ninety-five percent,” said Julie, “With less than a one percent risk of negative consequences and those tend to be mild. But it takes a while. One week in a...Vat, yes, one week inpatient and two weeks outpatient. But therapeutic genetics actually don’t damage your essence.” “Really?” asked Sasha. “Oh yeah. Most genetic disorders are screened out at birth and those children grow up with their essence fully intact. There’s actually a huge ongoing debate about what constitutes a genetic disorder or not. I'm surprised that this wasn't screened out actually.” Julie trailed off as she witnessed Sasha’s face fall. She'd reminded her of her family. Sasha spoke up before Julie could apologize. "It's fine," said Sasha, "My family used to be normal, not...Upper management. They...Mom and dad, they tried not to send me to the doctor much because of my disability. It would have hurt..." Sasha faltered, ugly feelings stirring inside of her. “That's...Not right now. Anyway, how much?” asked Sasha. Julie’s smile was strained. Everyone was looking, but she figured that now was the time. This hadn’t been the first time she’d pulled together money for someone. “Ninety-thousand nuyen,” said Julie. Sasha’s face fell and she started pumping out grey, greasy misery into the astral. “That’s almost everything I have,” she groaned, “I mean, I spent a bunch on upgrading my rig, but I figured in a month or two I could start coding for money and making it good with my logic spell. It really keeps me focused, you know? I can just tunnel into a task and make something really great. Most people can’t even begin to afford a cyberdeck and making bigger, more powerful terminals isn’t something that most people do anymore.” The pressure was getting to Sasha and she was babbling, ugly feelings churning faster for all to see. Julie focused on what was possible to manage her anxiety. It was far from her first time doing this. Devin had given her plenty of practice on how to give someone options when they were seeking medical help, even if this wasn't official. “It’s not a fixed price,” soothed Julie, “There’s insurance, rebates, specials. This is an incredibly common procedure and since this is usually done as a part of pregnancy, it’s rarely the stated cost. Uh...Not you being pregnant I mean. It happens to the unborn inside of pregnant women.” “I get it,” sighed Sasha, “But I doubt I’ll get it. It’s too much. Maybe...Maybe next year.” “Not too much,” said Kenji, thoughtfully. Everyone looked to Kenji, who looked thoughtful, twisting Julie’s ring around between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s not too bad,” said Kenji. “You’re not paying for me, Kenji,” said Sasha, firmly, “No.” “Hear me out,” said Kenji, “If there’s one thing I...Well, not learned, but got schooled on, it's that favors spend just as well as money.” Kenji pulled the ring up to his eye and looked through it. “And someone owes me a favor,” he said, “In fact, Joyce owes me a pretty big favor. I probably saved his relationship.” At the mention of Joyce, Julie remembered Joyce in her clinic, what had been done to him. Her? She wasn’t sure. Intensely ugly feelings swirled inside of Julie for all to see at the thought of Joyce and everyone turned to look, conversation suddenly halted. “You okay?” asked Chip. He knew she wasn’t. Their emotional link was still active. He could feel her distress and to her embarrassment, she could feel his. He was struggling with the spell and she couldn’t help him. It’s why he was being so quiet. “Can’t talk about it,” said Julie, quickly. “He do something to you?” asked Kenji, tone immediately flat. It wasn’t magic that she was bound by. No, something almost as binding and far more costly to break. HIPAA laws. Breaking those didn’t summon angry spirits as much as they summoned angry lawyers. “No, I just can’t talk about it,” said Julie, “He didn’t do anything. Please don’t ask because I can’t tell you.” She paused, racking her brain to see if she could figure out how to defuse the situation. “It’s a medical thing,” she said, attempting to stay as vague as possible, “Don’t ask me. Don’t ask him. I could lose my practice. Please don’t say anything to him.” “Oh,” said Kenji, voice returning to normal, “Why’s that?” “Because I’m not allowed to talk about what happens to my patients.” As Julie wondered if even that was too much to say, Fuzzy poked Kenji with her foot. “You’re making it worse,” she said, “Let it go.” Kenji leaned back and uncurled his fist from around the ring. “Okay,” he said, “Anyway, Sasha, Joyce owes me a favor. A pretty big one. I figure I have to get you somewhere safe for this. Tir and the Salish are pretty tight. I don’t want to send you to Tir, but maybe I can get you to the Salish. We still have most of a week before school starts again and this isn’t a big ask. Real common, right Julie?” “Therapeutic genetics are in most maternity wards and in any major pediatric care facility,” said Julie, “Even a lot of small hospitals have at least one vat.” Sasha wavered. For a time. A minute. An hour. Maybe a year. Who could say? Joy and tension warred for supremacy in the air. “I don’t want you to waste your favor,” said Sasha, finally. “A favor given to a friend is never a waste,” said Kenji, immediately. Before they could anything more, there was the sound of familiar footsteps. Or more accurately, pawsteps. Puppy had entered through the threshold, tail wagging, mouth split wide into a doggy grin. “Hey, we’re having a ritual,” said Fuzzy, “Go home.” Puppy in fact did not go home. Instead he ambled over to Fuzzy, gave her hand a lick, nuzzled against Julie’s hand, craned his head upwards to lick Sasha’s face, which made her giggle in protest, trying to fend him off. This made her growing anxiety completely vanish. Not diminish. It was just gone. Chip though, he sat very still, for he was concentrating hard and saw all of that magic, churned into something thick, coalescing into the dog’s body. The moment had been so mundane that everyone had missed the obvious. This wasn’t Puppy. As “Puppy” approached Kenji, its body changed. It became a seelk, black mutt, short fur patchy due to many scars. Sheng, named for victory, Clever’s old fighting dog, had died long ago at the teeth of another dog. But Kenji was still happy to see him, even if he was not Sheng, because he was familiar. It was Dog. “Hey buddy,” said Kenji, “Guess you heard me?” Dog sat on its haunches next to Kenji and flipped Kenji’s hand onto its head. With a laugh, Kenji began to scratch Dog behind Sheng’s one remaining ear. -- CYOA Time! Kenji is thinking about cyberware or bioware and so is Sasha. What's more important to Kenji? Body purism or quality of life offered by technology at the cost of some magic? Will Julie ask Sasha for help for Denny Park? -- We're getting into "Who gets invited to Denny Park?" We're going to start with Sasha because she's the most vulnerable. The time spent getting care if she gets it soon will keep her from actively participating, but it should also keep her safe. She can contribute if she's safe, but it would only be passively. But if she's actively contributing, she can offer matrix support as well as leadership checks to keep active participants going. If she shows up, I'm going to roll and if she doesn't roll well, I'm going to start stacking negative qualities on her like say, insomnia, nightmares, social stress, unsteady hands, paranoia, phobias, poor self-control or dead emotion. That's something that everyone will risk, but Sasha's risk will be far more severe due to her panic attacks. So someone who glitches a composure roll may very well get a mild to moderate negative trait and someone who crit glitches will get something pretty severe. Sasha skips right past mild and goes straight to moderate to severe and her composure checks are going to be more difficult due to her panic attacks, which will lower her dice pool. So there's a tradeoff here. Sasha could be asked to show up and she very likely will, but she may end up absolutely riddled with negative qualities that will take a lot of therapy and karma to remove. But if she doesn't show up, no matrix support unless Kenji shows up and feels like asking for Octo's help, which would throw her rear end into the fire instead. Or Julie could go in with just Mother Bear. Also I checked the Chrome Forged sourcebook and found a discrepancy under "Therapeutic Genetics". It states specifically that they don't damage essence, but in the book it's listed as a .2 essence drop. So I made a judgement call that one, it's very common and two, no essence drop due to how it was written in the book. It's how the middle class and above keep from suffering from say, Huntington's or Sickle Cell and such. The poor still deal with this unless they want to go deep into debt. But major health problems are normally fixed in the womb as well as the ongoing, never solved debate about things like being aneurotypical because this is cyberpunk and technology definitely allows people to make lovely decisions. Kenji can spend Joyce's favor to find a clinic that would do a prolonged but simple procedure for no cost in a safe place, most likely Council Island. After all, he's a follower of Dog and acts the part of the group's "living treasure". And that act of giving is what calls Dog as the first spirit mentor to show up. And he's not just showing up in dreams. The spells has dumped them into a kind of space between the physical and astral worlds, a liminal space. And there's so much magic floating around that Dog has literally been able to manifest a very, very tiny piece of himself to make his case for why the goodest of boys should be their spirit mentor. Keep in mind that due to wanting to end this book and not get stuck, which is what got me stuck for so many months, I picked one in particular so we could actually, you know, continue. I tried gaming it out otherwise and I just couldn't in a way that I found satisfying. Sorry about that. We're getting near the close of an arc and it's harder to improvise as that nears. Also, if Kenji breaks the minor taboo for the group of getting bioware to paper over his -2 weak immune system quality then Sasha may get some cyberware and/or bioware as well even though the geneware won't damage her essence. So if we want Sasha to get some slick chrome and slick new flesh in the form of a datajack, a sleep regulator, math SPU and maybe some mnemonich enhancers. It'll depend what Kenji can squeeze out of Joyce as well as how much money they're willing to spend. Example of a datajack. It lets you connect to the matrix much more easily and is classic Shadowrun. Really cheap too at 1k nuyen. The wires also retract into a storage compartment in the head.  A math SPU is a cranial subprocessing unit. It acts as a calendar, keeps track of time-related matters and gives a +4 to her math skill and raises the limit on technical and scientific skills by one. It will also allow her to code more easily by rolling her knowledge in math to give extra dice to assist. Today's coding doesn't have a ton of math involved, but knowing at least a little bit of Linear Algebra, Calculus, Probability, Cryptography, Geometry and Statistics helps. But Shadowrun is in the 2070's and I can imagine that the math is much harder. Also incredibly cheap at 1k nuyen. A sleep regulator allows someone to sleep for only three hours a night and wake up rested. Great for people who want extra hours in the day to work or goof off and this would make Sasha more productive. It costs 12k nuyen. The mnemonic enhancers are neat in that gives a plus one, two or three dice to all language, knowledge and memory tests depending on the rating. These are pricy at 9k per rating up to 27k. Both Kenji and Sasha can put their hands on used, standard and alphaware in terms of quality. Alphaware is more pricey and easier on the essence. Used is less expensive and pricier on the essence. We'll choose what Kenji gets later for cyber/bioware. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 14:38 on Apr 19, 2020 |
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Apr 19, 2020 02:46
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Stupid question why hasn't Sasha had this treatment while being in good with Aries? Surely her dad's position and her mom's social climbing would require their daughter who already had a genetic condition to get everything else perfect? Unless getting the process done would let everyone know about her eyes which they planned to exploit or keep hidden at all costs? I'm ok with Sasha and Kenji being chromed up a little but I prefer the gene therapy if it won't actually hurt kenjis chrome.
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Apr 19, 2020 03:53
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It sounds like we still get an interaction with the set of Spirits that interested the thread most, but you've already picked one to make the planning more manageable? That's fine. I have no idea which one I would have picked anyway. If getting the bioware would make it harder for Kenji to mask his hosed up aura, I don't think he would do it unless/until he has that check locked down. Otherwise I think he'd be willing to make the trade. Unless Kenji uses the favor with Mr. Peters to offset the loss with a focus? Power focus is a straightforward option, but I imagine it uses up pretty much all of Julie's credit and I'm not too fond of that. Kind of weird that metamagic foci are just for specific skills, though. Still half the price and seemingly much less than half the utility? I can get behind Sasha being the one who starts going iconic Shadowrun. Definitely in favor of getting her off the front lines and not having to roll against serious mental trauma. Per the vision, she's not supposed to be there anyway. Also given Kendra/Octo's role in the story so far, I think Kenji calling up Octo and making her part of this would be fitting.
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Apr 19, 2020 04:48
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Toughy posted:Stupid question why hasn't Sasha had this treatment while being in good with Aries? Surely her dad's position and her mom's social climbing would require their daughter who already had a genetic condition to get everything else perfect? I think it could be explained by social ladder climbing. "Oh, your child had to go in for what? Gene therapy? Why ever didn't that get resolved before she was born?" I imagine it wasn't critical and then poo poo happened in summer before Sasha could get it fixed. That and I hadn't read Chrome Forged really well. I thought it cost essence to fix Sasha's condition and that would have been the reason, but going back to retcon it is basically impossible now. So now I have to make something up. Ah well.  Dr Subterfuge posted:It sounds like we still get an interaction with the set of Spirits that interested the thread most, but you've already picked one to make the planning more manageable? That's fine. I have no idea which one I would have picked anyway. Yeah, I talked about this some months ago. Once I get near the end of an arc it gets a lot more difficult to keep the story on track. That means finishing it at all and also finishing it in a way that isn't unnecessarily meandering, but satisfying. In writing, endings are perhaps the most difficult part of the writing process to stick. If you've read books or watched movies, you'll frequently be disappointed by endings and some shows flat out do not have them in mind like say, Mass Effect or Lost. Endings so hated that they ruin the art. There are neat ways to write endings though and I'd like to practice it in the future for a different project. Yoko Taro, the creator of NieR: Automota and Drakenguard has a process called backwards scripting where he thinks of the ending first and then moves backwards to the ending. I can't do that with the format we're in, but I do think for days, weeks, even months about how to end a book in a satisfying way. So for example, Fuzzy and Sasha being surrounded by flowers given by a grateful community before Kenji literally cries concrete. Fun ending. Octo being revealed as a LeBlanc personality especially was probably my best ending I've ever written, especially as I'd been dropping hints for something like three books in the text and metatext and that it made perfect sense in retrospect. Nailing an ending is intensely satisfying as a writer. I view it as a kind of flourish at the end. It's fun to have curveballs thrown at me and see I each vote as an exercise in improvisation. But improv for major decisions is really hard near the end and I want to give everyone that satisfying ending. We'll still have votes, but there are just some votes I can't have because I wouldn't be able to recover. I floundered for months over trying to stay true to certain votes but also have a satisfying story and I hit the wall hard. Where I want to take the story and how I want to end it is a difficult needle to thread, but I think it'll be intensely satisfying as well if it works out like I think it will, perhaps even doing something that hasn't been done before, or at least so rarely that I've never heard of it even after looking. I'm actually surprised that flat out not being able to deliver hasn't happened before. But when it finally did my ability to tell the story fell apart and I didn't know what to do. quote:It sounds like we still get an interaction with the set of Spirits that interested the thread most, but you've already picked one to make the planning more manageable? That's fine. I have no idea which one I would have picked anyway. A few of them may show up later. Dog especially is going to show up later as he's tied very strongly to Kenji's character. I really like Dog as a kind of creative writing exercise, trying to give a spirit not just a purpose, but a personality. Something that's incredibly powerful, but at the same time it's still a dog so it acts like one and has the priorities of a dog. So now that Dog is out of dreams and in this semi-real, semi-magical space, we're going to see what he has to offer. But its personality is framed not by itself, but by Kenji's relationship with Dog. And that what you're seeing is a single aspect of an enormous intelligence that encompasses all things doglike. quote:If getting the bioware would make it harder for Kenji to mask his hosed up aura, I don't think he would do it unless/until he has that check locked down. It would not make it harder. quote:Otherwise I think he'd be willing to make the trade. Unless Kenji uses the favor with Mr. Peters to offset the loss with a focus? If I remember correctly, I think that Deadmeat actually picked it a long time ago. It's the Demara power, which allows Kenji to gain 1 rank in any skill for his magic in hours if he does the equivalent of watching youtube or reading a book on the subject for an hour. So he can become basically trained in anything without spending karma if he has the time. From golf to mountain climbing techniques to theoretical physics. Anything. It's useful for scoring C's on tests and bullshitting your way through life. However, he absolutely will be able to create a focus for himself to mask his aura. That is something he'll be start being being to do after break under the guidance of Mr. Peters. quote:I'm ok with Sasha and Kenji being chromed up a little but I prefer the gene therapy if it won't actually hurt kenjis chrome. Kenji's essence will be harmed if he gets bioware. He can get the pain resolved with some surgery, but he'll still get sick more often. Julie could zap him occasionally with cure disease, but it doesn't just make it go away. It's still a process and it's a process hampered by his compromised immune system and it may just not work. Even if it does work, it still takes time. It's not instant like say, healing a wound. But if he doesn't want to have increased numbers of sinus infections and upper respiratory infections for the rest of his life, he needs tech in him and that tech will mess with his magic. The damage is too extensive. It probably won't kill him, but this is why there's the body purism versus quality of life question. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 06:21 on Apr 19, 2020 |
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Apr 19, 2020 06:09
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I'll be honest whenever Dog shows up I have an almost pavlovian jolt of happiness and I got pleasantly caught by surprise here. It's only fair for the other spirits to get their visits but I'm all in for Dog.
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Apr 19, 2020 11:15
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Maximum cyberware for everybody! One more step in becoming a soulless machine, free of the emotionally guided sociopathy of the human race.
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Apr 19, 2020 14:50
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Did a little editing. Explained why Sasha didn't get it the therapy. Sasha's family used to be poor and if she went in the vat, it would remind others that her family used to be poor. Went back to mention Kenji's soul. Dog plays the perfect companion, licks Sasha's face and removes her anxiety completely for a time. Also I added other, minor stuff here and there. A little more characterization to Julie when she's walking Sasha through her medical options. Also spelling stuff. Thanks for the feedback.Xarbala posted:I'll be honest whenever Dog shows up I have an almost pavlovian jolt of happiness and I got pleasantly caught by surprise here. It's a kind of literary trick I play sometimes. Glad that you liked it. I enjoy misdirection because genuine surprise is one of the few things I get from fiction anymore and I'm always happy when someone does it to me, even if it's just for the sheer novelty of it. I'm actually listening to a podcast about Diogenes the Dog right now and it's pretty good. Apparently the origin of cynicism was founded around the idea of being more doglike. It's neat because it just popped into my lap. Unlike the concept of cynicism as we know it today, the cynical philosophers were more about living a life of virtue in agreement with nature, rejecting all conventional desires for health, wealth, power and fame and living a life free from possessions and property. To act as a watchdog for humanity and shrug off insults based on their lifestyle. Importantly, criticizing people about their errors, evangelizing about said errors and especially about greed, which was viewed as a major cause for suffering. It was also a precursor to stoicism and when stoicism went into decline, cynicism thrived and was later adopted in part by a lot of Christian ascetics. Coolest guy ever to live naked in a tub, mock people and eat raw meat, that Diogenes.
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Apr 19, 2020 14:53
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Since Sasha is a jack of all trades in addition to having lower magic than the others, it'd be easier for her to recover the magic loss at least. The implications of QoL-ware vs essence is one of those weird esoteric yet sensible questions I like arising out of Shadowrun.
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Apr 20, 2020 10:40
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Julie, Kenji, Fuzzy, Sasha, Chip and Dog - Time is Meaningless - Liminial Space Kenji scratched Dog’s head as the magic of this place filled up the memory of Sheng’s body completely. That creamy, pleasant cream became fog and the fog became mist and finally, the mist dissipated completely. The canine body complete, everyone waited with baited breath for what Dog had come here to say. As it turned out, it didn’t really say anything. Kenji continued to scratch its head and Dog enjoyed the scratches. Just like a normal dog, the great spirit loved scritches and scratches. There was a little scattered, nervous laughter and when Dog shamelessly rolled onto his belly for tummy rubs, this broke the tension of meeting the great spirit face to face. “Somehow I didn’t expect a great spirit to beg for tummy rubs,” said Julie. “Right?” asked Sasha. “Dog is still a dog,” said Kenji, “And dogs love friendly touch.” Then Kenji cocked his head. After a moment of reading his spirit mentor's body language, his gaze to be precise, he nodded in understanding. “Right, you can’t talk,” he said, and then looked closer, “Or...You can, but you’d have a hard time saying anything.” Dog wiggled back and forth on the dirt because Kenji had stopped petting him. So he resumed. “Watch out Kenji,” snarked Sasha, “You’ll spoil him.” Dog’s tongue lolled out in a wide, doggy grin. Then Julie, taken in the moment, giggled at the sight and reached out, paused, fingers curling in hesitation and looked to Kenji. “Can I?” she asked. Dog wiggled some more. “There’s your answer.” Julie ran her fingers through Dog’s fur, or perhaps it was Sheng’s fur, though she did not yet know the name. Its face was scared, as was its flank, back and legs, but its belly was smooth, short haired and somewhat gritty. Not from the dirt, but from not being washed. Dog had spared them Sheng's smell of the ACHE though, but did smell unwashed. No one complained. Then everyone was petting him. Though Chip was the last, waiting before bowing awkwardly to the far greater spirit and with reverence, stroking Dog’s belly. “Why so many scars?” asked Julie, quietly. Kenji’s smile faltered. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, sighed and shook his head. Normally so quick with a word, Kenji had a hard time speaking. But eventually, literally some indeterminate time later, he did. “When I dream, Dog visits me,” he said, quietly, “Not all of the time, but enough. Sometimes it’s Puppy, but mostly it’s Sheng here. He doesn’t talk, but he does say things. It’s comforting to see him though, because Sheng was probably my first friend.” Dog rolled off his belly which ended the impromptu belly rub session. It sat upright again and shook off the dirt, looked to Kenji when he was done, single ear flicking once. “How’s that?” asked Fuzzy. “Well…” said Kenji, quietly, “When you first met me, I was a mess. I couldn’t be close to people because of Edward’s rules. I was constantly scheming, constantly chasing money, constantly taking advantage of people and in return, constantly getting taken advantage of. Eventually I found loopholes around it, but I had to imagine first that I could do that at all. So this was before that.” Kenji folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. “But when I’d go over to my cousin’s apartment, Sheng was there,” said Kenji, “I couldn’t be friends to people. Even the one person who didn’t use me, I tried to use anyway. Sheng was different because the rules didn’t cover him. He didn't count. He was mean to most everyone, but he liked me. I think it was because I fed him extra from my bowl whenever I was over at Clever's.” Dog’s tongue lolled out and Kenji rubbed his head and neck. “Feels exactly the same…” he said, to himself, and then to Dog, “Thanks.” Dog sloppily licked at Kenji’s hand while the others listened. “Sheng was my cousin’s fighting dog,” said Kenji. “Uh, wait,” said Sasha, “You watched dog fights?” Kenji and Sasha exchanged a long look. “In the ACHE, everyone has to earn their keep,” said Kenji, quietly, “You can’t earn, you can’t find a place. You can’t find a place, you die.” "That's awful," she said, with growing anger. "No argument." Sasha closed her mouth, a lips becoming a thin, firm line, obviously unhappy. “In the ACHE, there’s always some fight,” said Kenji, “Something to gamble on. Clever, my cousin, he’s seriously into Muay Thai and dog fighting.” “What’s Muay Thai?” asked Julie. “Art of the eight limbs,” said Kenji, “Thai kickboxing. Real brutal stuff. Some of the other fighters in the amateur world outside of the ACHE, they retire after maybe thirty, forty fights and they could train for months between each fight. ACHE Muay Thai fighters fight at least once a week, sometimes multiple times a week. Doesn’t matter if you’re injured or not. You don’t earn, you die, just like everywhere else. You can lose and get shamed by your family, but your family won’t even let you come home if you don’t fight.” “Wow,” said Fuzzy. “Yep, you fight until you die or come out on top. The average number of fights is actually way lower than it used to be, I’m told,” he continued, “Someone might only have a hundred fights because they die. The fights are brutal. Someone might get crippled, but if they’re good enough they can get some cyber on them. Get into the cybernetic fights. That’s a deathtrap though. Just picking pieces off you. You’d see cyberware get recycled over and over again from one fighter to the other because no matter how cheap, they're still worth more than the fighters. So they're these ancient, custom pieces that are patched and patched and patched until there's nothing left of the original." "Like the ship of Theseus," said Julie. "You'll have to tell me what that means later," said Kenji, "But yeah, hand-me-down cyberware, mostly owned by the gyms. There’s this one gym on the third floor Clever took me to once, used to be a cubical farm, they dug out the bottom, flooded it and put in rice paddies and the boxers fight among the rice and the water. Real old school. That rice sells like hell since it’s mixed with the…” Kenji caught himself, shook his head and smiled self-consciously. “Anyway, sorry, fighters fight until they die or make enough money to leave,” he said, “Dogfights? Well, the dogs just die. Lower stakes. So there's no way out. I’d show up and bet on him…” “You’d bet on dog fights?” asked Sasha, angrily. “Just on Sheng,” said Kenji, sadly, “You know, like a prayer, because it was all I could do. Not that I prayed, but...It was the best I could do and I'd buy some extra food afterwards for Sheng and me. Any other money I made went to Edward and I have no idea where it went. I was maybe twelve.” Sasha’s face softened. “You didn’t go to...You know, go?” “No. I didn’t like it. I stayed away unless Sheng was there.” “Oh.” Another pause of indeterminate time. Of indeterminate sadness. “Couldn’t make it to all of his fights,” said Kenji, “But...When I could, I did. I didn’t like what happened there. I didn’t like what my cousin made Sheng do. But that’s life in the ACHE. You do a lot of things you’re not proud of to get by. Even the dogs. I just wanted to root for my friend. I wasn’t...I wasn’t okay enough to have real friends. People friends. Sheng wasn’t complicated. I’d feed him what extra I could and he accepted me as I was, no questions asked. And if I didn’t have food, he wouldn’t ignore me. He wasn't fickle. He liked me for who I was, not what I could do for him or what I had. I needed that. He got me through the times where I was too stunted for people.” Kenji kept stroking Dog’s fur and paid special attention to the thick scars tracing over Sheng’s body. “You couldn’t have taken him home?” asked Julie, gently. Kenji shook his head. “Moms would have sold him for drugs,” said Kenji, bitterly, “Pops would have laid hands on me someday and got ripped open for it. No way was he risking that. Sheng hated Pops so much. He’d growl and Pops would freeze and gently caress off because one day he was flicking a switchblade at Sheng. Don't know why, he just did that sometimes and Sheng nearly took off his hand. It’s part of why I liked him. But yeah, I couldn’t have kept him. Would’ve been nice, but in the ACHE, you need to do a lot of bad things to have things, much less nice things.” Then Kenji looked up at everyone, smiled that understated, genuine smile of his and cleared his throat. “I guess I’m making that talking part of this pitch?” asked Kenji. Dog sneezed and Kenji took that as agreement. “Yeah, so,” sighed Kenji, “I can’t tell you perfectly, but I’ll try to tell you. Dog is just like any other dog. He’s a companion, loyal, so few complications that there may as well not be any. What you see is what you get. He won’t judge you for what you’ve done, only how you treat your pack.” There was a thrum in the remaining ambient magic at that word. “He’s single minded,” said Kenji, “A real living treasure. He's happy with meager offerings and gives so much in return. Like, he’s not a god or anything. There’s no promise of the afterlife, no redemption, no philosophy. There's just pack...” Again that thrum, that ripple through the air. “...But that’s only a philosophy for people,” said Kenji, “Or at least I think so. Dog doesn’t think about it. It's baked into every dog in a way it's not into us. It’s a dog’s way of life. People complicate it, have to think about it, but at the core of every dog, there’s pack.” Dog, who wore the memory of Sheng’s body, de-materialized back into magic, the mud hut darkened and their liminal space became something else. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 11:59 on Apr 25, 2020 |
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Apr 20, 2020 22:28
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The great spirit Dog, still a good doggo :3. I like that Chip is thoroughly intimidated by the unassuming Dog. Dragonslayer going on to lampshade it would be amusing. That thrum in the magic at word pack was satisfying. Dr Subterfuge fucked around with this message at 18:52 on Apr 21, 2020 |
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Apr 21, 2020 17:51
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Shows how sheltered Sasha has been that talking to pretty much any of her friends is a rough reality check each time.
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Apr 24, 2020 23:26
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Just finished reread and it's great to see how these characters have grown. As for the ritual, Dog is, as always, a good boy. However, I feel that having him as the group's mentor spirit wouldn't provide the guidance that they could really use.
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Apr 26, 2020 22:51
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An excellent Dogge!
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Apr 27, 2020 01:23
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Julie, Kenji, Fuzzy, Sasha, Chip and Dog - Time is Meaningless - Liminial Space A lone canine stalks at the edge of a fire. It is hungry, ravenous even. The herds have moved on for the season, depriving it of its normal food. Fire has swept the savanna and so small game is scarce. Worst of all, it is alone, competing with scavengers after the rare kill of some other beast. But upon that controlled fire, which it fears, is something the canine desires more than it fears. Tantalizing to the senses, raw meat is blending with the fire to make something new. The smart, two legged creatures have made this. They are slow, but run seemingly forever and the canine has seen prey run until it can run no more, where this strange animal, dark skin shining with water, casually picks up a rock and smashes the head of the defenseless beast. They use their long wooden claws, tipped with sharp stone and the canine has seen them slay a lion from a long distance. Sometimes they butcher it on the spot, not eating, but bringing it to their lairs, cooperating to bring it home. Sometimes they make fire on the spot. Sometimes they leave the kill and the canine eats after them. So he has always kept close to two legged camps, just in case they leave a kill. Hungry and hoping to get the food, the canine stalks forward. Near the fire are males, females and their young by the smell of it and for the moment, no one attends to the meat. The canine was clever, for it was able to approach in darkness. However, the meat has a stick through it, the placement of sticks over fire alien to the canine. The two legged animals have no problem, for their front, strangely non-running paws are clever and the canine’s are not. He does not understand the secret of fire nor sticks through meat, so the canine reaches its mouth over the fire, eating a bite. It tastes good. Different, but good. There is no warm blood. No exhilaration of the hunt. But food is food and food is good. There are even some herbs rubbed on the meat. Pleasing, but not something the canine would think to do itself or on its own. There is a scream from one of the men. The canine turns to flee, still chewing its meal, but one of the long claws takes it through the side. There is pain, so much pain and the canine cannot flee, for its strength bleeds out of it. Its limbs move uselessly, attempting to run even though it has fallen. It is stung with the long claws, but the pain curiously dulls as its body grows cold. Then cautiously, the two legged one, dark skin shining in the firelight, walks up and smashes the canine’s head in with a rock. Julie and her friends witnessed scenes like this played over and over, in many variations, while sitting on their log benches. The story, not told, but shown, was grotesque. Dog was not a polished storyteller, for nature’s normal manner of communication between species is blunt and savage. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. Humans raising the corpse of a canine high in a tree to drive them off, for they valued that savage communication over the meat. Even the canines understood this and would shy away. In another story, lone humans hear their howls and would be driven like prey and then torn asunder by sharp, yellow teeth, eaten alive. Though it made them sick to watch, watch they did. Most understood that mother nature was cruel, red in tooth and claw. It was not something they enjoyed to dwell on, but as young shamans, they knew this. Dog only showed these scenes until the point was driven home. People and canines used to be savage enemies, competing with one another and occasionally that competition would end in death. Canines that were hostile to humans were driven off or killed. Sometimes they would become meat, the canine or the people. The canines that were indifferent to people? They too were driven off or killed or drove off or killed the humans. However, this was rarely the case. Humans and canines ignored one another, for predators rarely prey on other predators and each predator had their range. Instead they kill prey, for that is what prey is for. But when prey grows scarce, this causes the predators to compete and when they compete, they compete to survive and the competition is fierce. The next scene that Dog shows is that of a lone human, wounded upon the savanna, hidden among tall grass the mud of the rainy season. The gashes in its side are ragged from the claws of a big cat, now dead, but it struck out with the ferocity of a dying animal. It was a deep wound as well, so there is the smell of infection as well. It is far from the other two legs that would take care of him. It is alone, not yet dying, but weak. The predator has become prey, as all predators become when they are wounded or grow old. A lone canine approaches, curious at the smell. The two legged one attempts to raise a short, stone claw in its paws, but has not the strength. Even this makes its chest heave with exhaustion. Its stone claw drops to the ground as it waits for the inevitable. It waits for the canine to have its way. For nature to have its way. This canine is different though. It is not hostile. It is not indifferent. Instead, it is young and has not encountered two legs before. Something inside of it, that difference, unknown to the canine, identifies the two legged one not as prey, but as a potential packmate and therefore in need of care. It is not a rational thought. Two legs are two legs and canines are canines. They compete. This is the way of things. But this canine does not understand the way of things. It does not know that its impulse to help is potentially suicidal. Nature produces this variation though and looking back at the Dog’s brutal stories, even many of these friendly canines were killed by the two legs. This canine is friendly, though wary of the stone claw. It is not stupid, just different. The two legs watches with fear. The canine approaches, but scampers away a short distance, wary of a trap for other animals have their tricks. However, each time it grows closer, nearer, the smell of fear of the two legs becoming sharper as the canine grows bolder. The two legs had voided its bladder and bowels and normally this would be a signal to attack. Instead, the canine makes its final approach, not to kill, but to look up into the eyes of the two legs. They stare at one another. There in among the long, waving grass of this savanna, among the mud, two creatures, alien to one another, contemplate the existence of the other. Then this canine sidles up to the two legs and does for it what it did for itself and other canines, it begins to lick at the wound that was killing the two legs. The two legs gasps, shudders in fear, but it cannot move for it is too weak from fever. And so it does not kill the friendly canine. The canine tastes the old blood, the grit, the mud and the hints of meat underneath. The flesh is too warm and the canine understands that if it were to eat, it could gorge itself. Still, this canine is not rational, its impulse unreasonable. Predators eat prey. This was and is the way of things. But need it always be? Instead, one predator shows mercy to another. The wound is cleaned, the dirt and grime loosened by the thick, wet tongue of the canine. The infection reduced in intensity, not immediately, but over time. Two species of mutually hostile beings, predators both, competitors both, are brought together through a radical act of care. Days later, the two legs, who had succumbed to the unconsciousness, its skin hot even in the cold of the rainy season, regained its senses. It found a predator curled up next to it, still licking the wound, which had healed over. It was still ugly, but the claws of a big cat normally killed, for their claws were long and sharp. Even a scratch could kill through fever and this was deep. The two legs was solitary, unlike much of its kind and so was the canine. With effort, it stood carefully and the canine followed, wagging its tail, which the two legs did not understand. The canine barked happily, eager to see the two legs moving on two legs once more. The two legs winced, reaching for its long, stone claw and the canine darted away, but did not return for the kill. The two legs paused, completely baffled. Kill or be killed, be predator or prey, that was the way. The canine did not understand the bafflement of the two legs for the canine had adopted the two legs as one of its own. It only understood the stone claw, the universal language of violence. It could only infer the cessation of that violence, the hesitation as the two legs lowered it. Later, upon reaching the home of the two legs, a cave filled with many interesting smells and items were all thoroughly sniffed. The two legs squatted down at eye level with the canine, still wary. Neither understood one another beyond the lack of violence. Understanding was not required. The canine was irrationally friendly. And though the two legs did not understand it, the canine had adopted the two legs as pack. The first two legs to ever be adopted as pack by a canine. The two legs, which made odd noises now and again,, thought about a name for this creature, though the canine did not understand names at the time. At first it was the name for the hostile canine taught to the two legs by his old tribe, but this did not fit. Hostile canine looked the same as other hostile canines, but it did not act the same. It was friendly. It healed his wounds with his tongue. And so, while looking through the cave, the two legs strategically turned its back in the first trust ever afforded to a canine by a human and that trust was rewarded for there was no attack. It turned quickly, several times, comically, and the canine gambolled about, but did not attack. The two legs, baffled by the not-hostile canine’s behavior, searched for its food. It was cool in the cave and maybe the food was still good. The canine could smell that food: Meat, fruit and roots, though it was really only interested in the meat. The canine whined, begging for its food, though the two legs did not know what this meant. It whirled, stone claw raised and the canine backed away. There was no threat from the canine though. Intensely baffled, for the whine had not signaled an attack, the two legs decided to reward this not-hostile canine. Madness to be sure, but two legs are social creatures, just like canines. A combination of their giving nature and the decision to take a chance on a hostile creature caused the human to share precious meat. He produced food from a rough hide sack and fed the canine some stinking, but still edible meat. The canine devoured it of course and barked, hungry for more. Barking did not come with violence. Nor did eating in front of the canine make the not-hostile canine into a hostile canine. Reluctantly, as the beat continued to whine, the two legs gave the canine some of his roots and berries. The canine sniffed at these, confused, for they were not meat and eventually ate them, but preferred the meat. As days went by, Two Legs as the canine began to think of the creature and the canine lived together, both uneasy. Two Legs had mulled over names for the strange creature. Ones not associated with danger and teeth. It still had teeth, but did not seem dangerous, or at least not dangerous to him. It would not do. So he named them in the way that those of his tribe named all things, by their look, their smell, their sound or something essential to the thing to be named. And so, the first dog was named Arf, as he very much enjoyed barking. Through much calling, the canine learned not that this was its name, but how it was called, which was much the same. The teens and one spirit on the log benches burst into a fit of giggles. They’d been quiet for so long, so very long. They’d seen so much death and failure from people and canines, that this moment stood out. It was a secret, the first person and the first dog, becoming companions. “Named him Arf,” giggled Fuzzy. “You named your puppy, Puppy,” teased Julie, “You’re not any better.” Fuzzy made a farting noise with her mouth at Julie. “I’m really into Two Legs and Arf,” said Kenji, “It’s made for the trid. Buddy flick of the year.” “Right?” asked Sasha. “This is amazing,” said Chip, in cheerful awe, “Who else knows this story?” In response, many different smells flooded the room, one after the other, each distinct and very smelly. “Ugh. What was that?” asked Sasha. “Smells,” said Fuzzy, “They smelled like smelly people.” “Distinct smells?” asked Julie, “Like a specific number of people?” Arf, the first dog and Two Legs, the first dog owner grew indistinct. The scene hadn’t frozen, but it seemed to be out of focus for the time being. “Like each is a different person,” said Chip. “Why not just show us the people?” asked Sasha, “Or just say the number out loud?” “Because this is Dog,” said Kenji, “He’s big on smell and not as big on sight or numbers. I guess this is how he lists people. Not by their faces, but by their smells.” Sasha wrinkled her nose in disgust “Some of those really smelled like rear end though,” she complained. “Don’t think about it too hard,” said Kenji. “Dogs sniff a lot of butts,” said Fuzzy, “Also other stuff. It happens.” Sasha clapped her hand over her nose and mouth “Aaaah, drat it,” she groaned, muffled by her hand, “Gross.” There was more laughter. Even Sasha joined in once she figured out it wasn’t at her expense. “Can you tell how many, Kenji?” asked Julie. Everyone else looked at him. Kenji frowned in thought. “My sinuses are still on fire, but I’ll try,” said Kenji, “I got a little bit of that Dog nose magic going. I try not to use it much because it’s uh...Uncomfortable. I think I can make an exception though. Could you tell us again, Dog?” Sasha kept her nose and mouth covered, but that didn’t help. The smells were magic and magic was sometimes total bullshit, or at least that’s what Sasha mumbled into her hand. Flashes of smells came rapid fire while both Kenji and Chip closed their eyes and concentrated. “Thirty?” asked Kenji, of himself, “No, thirty-four.” “About that, yeah,” said Chip, “Good job. I think some of them might even be related. The smells I mean. Weird that I can tell that through smell. No idea who they are though.” “Yeah,” said Kenji, “Any chance we can get faces?” After a few seconds, blurry faces, not totally indistinct but lacking much of their color flashed before their eyes. “Nope, don’t know a single one,” said Kenji. “I thought dogs were color blind,” said Julie, “These still have color.” “Nope,” said Fuzzy, “Dogs can see color. Just not the same colors you and I see. Mostly yellow, blue and uh...What’s that color that’s not purple? The other one?” “Indigo?” asked Julie. “No…” “Violet?” “Yeah, that’s the one.” “This is the best,” said Chip, “I’m learning so much.” Two Legs and Arf came back into focus. Time had skipped forwards again, or maybe they’d been watching their entire lives and this was the interesting part that caught their attention. Arf turned out to be a girl, as she’d had puppies with a wild canine. Two Legs seemed intent on keeping the puppies, but some were wild. The first dog had birthed some wild canines. These were raised, but eventually driven away as Two Legs did not want to kill them. But a few were kept and these became the next generation of dogs. In return, Two Legs had children with a woman from a local tribe. These became the next generation of dog owners and were taught how to interact with dogs, how to use their speed, smell and hearing to compliment the human’s keen eyesight, accuracy with their thrown weapons and endurance. Together they hunted and brought home more prey than either could alone. This gave them time to think, to train and to understand one another, the dog and the human. Lore was passed down from parents to children and they began domesticating the dog. In return, those humans which kept dogs were domesticated in return by dogs, for it was easier to become closer if both parties tried. Some humans left dogs behind just as dogs left humans behind, but those that stayed entered into a deep symbiosis that took two previously alien creatures and bonded them. Both people and dogs thrived as a result. Over time, they witnessed the shape of dogs change, how their domestication rendered them distinct from the wolf, the coyote, the dingo and other wild canines. Dogs hunted with the men, guarded the homestead, played companion to children, for those that didn’t were killed or were driven away. Those that remained were shaped into the dog and those humans that embraced them were shaped in return. Dogs began to understand humans and humans in return understood them. Not perfectly, for they were still very different creatures. But enough. And then, something strange happened. A familiar picture of a familiar forest came into view and two familiar people, one crying, his pants soaked with urine spoke to Fuzzy. “I choose friends,” sobbed the Kenji of the past, to the Fuzzy of the past. And again, the picture of Two Legs and Arf, upon the savannah long ago, the first dog approached the first wounded man. The canine had become a dog, for while it had its nature of friendliness, it was not completely ruled by it. The first dog still had its own will. It had made a choice not to kill and eat, but to make a friend of this strange, alien creature. The first dog had chosen friends at the risk of its life, understanding deep down that to trust another is to court death. So had Kenji, with Edward’s rules, with the certainty that he would unravel if he disobeyed. Kenji had chosen friends. And so, Kenji had earned Dog’s attention. “Pack,” said Kenji, quietly. With the word spoken, the savanna faded, leaving all of them in the mud hut once more. Sheng, Kenji’s oldest friend, now dead, the current avatar of Dog, wagged its tail happily and snuggled against Kenji side. For his part, Kenji seemed to be both in deep thought mixed with the shock of the profound. And so in the way of dogs, Sheng flipped Kenji’s hand with his muzzle and onto his head for an ear scratch. Kenji scratched behind Sheng’s single ear without thinking about it, demonstrating one of the small ways that dogs had domesticated people. For the process had not been one-sided. “You’re like Arf,” teased Fuzzy. A few seconds went by as Kenji continued to consider. “Am I?” asked Kenji. “I think that’s what Dog is trying to say,” said Sasha. “I think you reenacted the ritual somehow. The first dog approaching the first person” said Julie, “Though I’m not sure how you did it. What happened there?” Kenji and Fuzzy looked to Julie. Kenji looked lost in his thoughts while Fuzzy looked awkward. “Tell you later,” was all Kenji said. “So that’s pack?” asked Chip. The spirit seemed hungry for knowledge, so he’d already changed the subject. “Piece of it,” said Kenji, “I think though…” He paused again, struggling with the concept, face screwed up in thought. “That a dog shaman relates to his people like a dog does,” said Kenji, “But can speak and understand like a person. But since I’m not a dog, I have to think more like a dog does. You know, like...Intentionally. It’s not something...Something…” “Inherent?” asked Julie. “I guess,” said Kenji, “It’s like...Dogs are born knowing most of this stuff. I wasn’t. I had to choose. So I guess it’s like uh...Philosophy for me. I’m as clueless about some stuff as Two Legs and Arf were. They didn’t understand each other, but that didn’t matter. What was important was that one took the risk and then they maintained their trust while working together. Sometimes you don’t need to understand if the trust is...Profound.” “You’re really like Arf,” teased Fuzzy. Kenji smiled wryly at Fuzzy, who’d become comfortable again after Chip changed the subject. However, upon further thought, he smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Fuzzy nodded in agreement. The visit from Dog wound down from there. There was so much to think about and so much to discuss, but that would come later. Dog allowed the teens to give tummy rubs, head scratches and cuddles. Even Chip got into it, reverently rubbing the belly of the great spirit. Each person had as much time as they wished with Dog. Then Dog came to Kenji last, looking up into his eyes and Kenji stared back. Then Kenji got down to his knees and hugged Sheng for a long time. And in this place where time had little meaning, that was a very long time indeed. But things do change. They have to end. And so Kenji let go, eyes wet. “Bye buddy,” said Kenji, voice cracking with emotion, “Thanks for visiting.” Sheng licked Kenji’s face once, turned around, looked back one more time and saw everyone waving at him. His muzzle split into a wide, doggy grin and then he padded through the entrance to the mud hut, vanishing out of sight and into the indistinctness of what lay beyond. Kenji lowered his head, wiping at his eyes, trying to hide his face. Everyone got up from their seats or moved closer to him if they sat next to him. The hug was a big one and heartfelt. “You’re our Arf,” said Fuzzy. “Very smelly,” said Sasha. “You should smell yourself,” said Kenji, voice rough. “That’s just your upper lip,” teased Sasha. “I can smell beyond my upper lip,” said Kenji, “I got magic you know.” “Then stop smelling me, perv,” said Sasha, without any heat to her voice. “I’ve got to ask you about that sometime,” said Chip, “I smelled everything different than what I normally do. Is this what it’s like to smell stuff? It’s kind of like how Oli cooks and I can taste differently. Is this like a magic smell?” The hug broke and everyone began to chat amiably about Dog and what they’d witnessed. Everyone but Julie, because she realized too late that she’d been caught up in the moment and forgotten her purpose- Her mission. She needed help and had forgotten to ask Dog about what to do about the coming riot. Deep down, she’d assumed that Dog was a god and her understanding of god was capital G God for God was that was omnipresent, omnipotent and omniscient. That Dog would just know her intentions and assist. It wasn’t a conscious thing, but a reaction born of learned expectation. Dog hadn’t understood her because he couldn’t read her mind. As a Dog, he may have been able to read her body language, but she’d been so caught up in the story that she’d forgotten to ask and so he didn’t know what she wanted. She’d failed and that feeling of failure began to consume her thoughts. In the astral, an ugly blackness leaked out of her as Julie mentally berated herself. Normally it would be contained in her body, but in this space the physical and the magical were blurred and so that blackness became obvious to all but Julie. Dog was not her idea of a deity for she only knew of the one. Then she considered if she could call Dog back, but discreetly, but no, that didn’t seem possible. She would have to speak up, but couldn’t. She might be able to to find him, but leaving the ritual space was unsafe. Perhaps even acting alone would undermine the ability to talk to any of the other spirit mentors. This ritual was based on friendship and becoming a group. If she acted alone and in secret, she may end it prematurely. This was not just some magical society, but a statement that the world wouldn’t pull them apart. “Hey,” said Sasha, warily, “Hey Julie?” “What?” asked Julie, startled, “Uh, what?” Everyone was staring at her. Chip had been banging at her emotions through their link, but she’d kept it off and so his attempts had been weak. Julie had been too wrapped up in herself. “You’re uh…” began Sasha. “Sprung a leak,” said Kenji, “I got some darkness in me. It happens.” Kenji was covering for her, not knowing what was happening or why, only understanding Julie’s sudden panic. “Umm...It’s…” said Julie, awkwardly. “You’re all right, right Julie?” he asked, “You’d say something if something was wrong, right?” CYOA Time What does Julie do? -- So spirit mentors aren't gods as Julie understands God. She messed up and assumed that Dog would just know what she needed and help her. However, she never spoke up and lost the chance. Luckily, she could ask Kenji for help later and maybe reach Dog. Here's the problem. Julie doesn't know if asking for help covertly will mess up the ritual because the ritual is based around friendship and togetherness. If the spell is disrupted, that could have some really negative consequences. It may continue, it may fall apart, none the worse for wear or capital B capital T Bad Things might happen. Not just to her, but possibly to everyone involved. The odds of Julie being able to find another spirit mentor without looking for a shaman as an intermediary is very low. The only other spirit mentor that she has access to from a trusted source would be Fire Bringer from Julian and Fire Bringer is not responding at the moment. Letting anyone else know she's seen the future is extremely dangerous and worth billions of nuyen not just for the information, but for her capture, which is why she's been so secretive. The corps and any/all governments would fight and kill to know what she knows and possess her. If Julie decides to trust those here and confess, I'm going to roll loyalty times two and composure. Any hits on the loyalty dice will do, though this may damage her relationship with those here if the hits are too low. Composure checks will be for the teens to wrap their heads around what this means, because it's a lot. The exception being Fuzzy, who already knows some of this and so the rolls will be lower and Chip, who knows everything. Or she can do nothing. Kenji will try to cover for her. It will squander the opportunity to ask mentors she normally wouldn't be able to interact with, but Julie can back out and just go through with the ritual normally. And she'll still have the mentor the group eventually picks to ask for help. So what do we do? Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 23:01 on May 6, 2020 |
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May 6, 2020 22:54
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Hmm I'm not sure if it's just me but I kind of bounced off the beginning of this update and started scanning until I saw the gang again. Arf was more engaging but more because they were talking about her? Kenji's last hug with Dog was adorable though. As for what to do, uh, I personally would play it safe and do nothing, taking the safe route and trying to ask the mentor the group eventually picks. It also protects her friends from danger and doesn't risk a panic attack from Sasha. But I'm not sure how much I like the passiveness from a story perspective.
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May 7, 2020 00:45
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I actually disagree. I think now, more than ever, is the time to bring the others into this. Yes, it's dangerous. Yes, it's bigger than any of them. But they've just bound themselves together in a very real and tangible way - what better time to trust them with her biggest secret?
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May 7, 2020 01:10
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What's the timeline exact? Weeks or months until the riot?
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May 7, 2020 01:14
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Toughy posted:What's the timeline exact? Weeks or months until the riot? It was still hot during the riot. Weeks, not months. Dr Subterfuge posted:Hmm I'm not sure if it's just me but I kind of bounced off the beginning of this update and started scanning until I saw the gang again. Arf was more engaging but more because they were talking about her? Kenji's last hug with Dog was adorable though. I'll take a look at it and see what I can do.
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May 7, 2020 01:17
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I'm down for full disclosure AFTER we pick a spirit mentor and let them know they'll be in the loop once we agree on a mentor.
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May 7, 2020 01:21
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If there was ever a time to be upfront and honest with pack, this would be it, or close to it. Either that or way too late to do anything about it. I'm worried it might muck up the rolls but, well, it just feels right. Maybe calmer heads can fudge the exact timing, but something's got to give at some point. Also, drat, I still well up whenever I read the phrase "I choose friends." Still really enjoyed Dog's perspective on dog's relationship with metahumanity though.
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May 7, 2020 01:24
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This is a ritual about bonding with your friends and trusting them, now's the time to talk about it if there ever is one. I'd even posit that withholding it and not trusting them can probably scupper the ritual as well.
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May 7, 2020 09:40
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Julie breaks down and babbles extremely disturbing future sight about how mass death is now inevitable. Depending on how to rolls go, a miasma of terror and despair engulfs all. More futures of genocide leak in as this attracts the attention of a dark and/or toxic 'mentor'.
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May 7, 2020 19:19
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My first thought as to what Julie would do here is she'd probably panic and back down, taking Kenji's save and not wanting to force what she probably thinks is "her problem" on others. But that sucks! Julie should stop being so passive, I keep forgetting this is her book and not Kenji's or Fuzzy's. If Julie is ever going to match the other two in presence or proactiveness then this is the time to come out with her secret and let everyone know that she's in trouble and so are they, but they can be in it together.
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May 7, 2020 23:20
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The big problem is that they're gonna also have to roll Shadowrun dice and shadowrun dice can really gently caress you up lemme tell you hwat
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May 7, 2020 23:29
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Get Dog back in here to consult, THEN confess
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May 8, 2020 01:07
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I would like Julie to stop being passive and speak to her friends. She might mess it up but she's going to have to trust them.
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May 8, 2020 01:34
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Podima posted:I actually disagree. I think now, more than ever, is the time to bring the others into this. Yes, it's dangerous. Yes, it's bigger than any of them. But they've just bound themselves together in a very real and tangible way - what better time to trust them with her biggest secret? Yeah, it's not a good time to be bottling that up. It's not a wholesome or even innocuous secret, and it's been casting its shadow over Julie for pretty much the entire series. She's going to need to get out from under it before she can really grow and develop into her own force, and that warm and nearly-unconditional pack energy is going to be the strongest thing she can bring to the table on her side. Having Dog involved is probably the best for her (but also probably cements the ritual); the afterglow of his presence is really going to be the next best thing. sheep-dodger posted:This is a ritual about bonding with your friends and trusting them, now's the time to talk about it if there ever is one. I'd even posit that withholding it and not trusting them can probably scupper the ritual as well. Mythologically, it feels like the kind of thing that could turn the whole circle toxic over time, a poisoned seed planted during its creation.
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May 8, 2020 03:56
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Yond Cassius posted:Mythologically, it feels like the kind of thing that could turn the whole circle toxic over time, a poisoned seed planted during its creation. yeah, agreed. Not sharing now seems like a terrible idea imo.
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May 8, 2020 11:05
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Just maybe right in the middle of a literal mystical ritual powered by friendship and goodwill is the best time to confide in your friends. I mean if the dice decide poo poo is going to hosed up so be it but it just feels right to let it out now.
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May 8, 2020 20:56
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Julie, Kenji, Fuzzy, Sasha and Chip - Time is Meaningless - Liminal Space Julie knew that Kenji didn’t understand the weight of his offer, but she was grateful for it anyway. Tempted even. Part of her simply wanted to finish the ritual, keep her head down, stay home and pretend that nothing had happened- That her prophecy wasn’t true. That there would be a protest like many others, but no massacre. This was denial and Julie rejected that. Sticking her head in the sand was not acceptable. After all, she’d been preparing. Not well, but she'd prepared. After all, she’d spent the entire summer working on her medical skills and had even spent a particularly horrific few hours plugging up bullet holes as more and more people just kept pouring in after a prolonged gang shootout. This was time spent working on her magic and becoming a better healer. This was harder to reject, but she did so as well. Simply going with the flow of her previous choices wasn’t a choice, not exactly. Not a choice, but out of feelings of momentum, obligation and resignation. To be carried along on the stream of her own choices like a paper boat. Yes at one point she’d made the choice to act, but this wasn’t enough. It was hard not to deny, not to stay home, not to choose personal safety. It was harder still to reject obligation. That she’d seen the future and that somehow made her its caretaker or steward. That there was some sort of path laid before her that she needed to walk and that there was no choice. Yes she could fool herself and yes that was a choice, but so was slouching towards the future. So it was in this moment that Julie finally chose not to deny, not to go along with the flow, but seize control of her own life. Not for the first time, but she was still a novice when it came to choosing, to acting and each small choice allowed her take charge over her own destiny. Not in the mystical sense, at least not often, but to simply take charge of herself and make decisions and accept the resulting consequences. And so Julie took a deep breath, took a look at that darkness that was literally leaking out of her body and into the astral, frowned at it and looked up at her friends. Of the four, Chip knew everything and Fuzzy knew just enough to try and keep Sasha safe. So far it had worked too as Sasha was still here. Kenji had also been at risk of...She didn't know what by Edward. Some sort of disillusion, maybe or never letting him out again. So she'd tried her best to be good to Kenji, even if the road had been bumpy. It was all she could do and it had worked, at least probably as she hadn't seen Edward in months. The future could change. Things could work out for the better. Probably. “I have something to tell everyone,” said Julie, finally. As everyone turned to look at her, Julie organized her thoughts. The ritual was supposed to be about coming together as a group. Not telling them could disrupt it, but that wasn’t why she was choosing to speak. It was because she trusted her friends. Then she paused, frowning, not sure how to start. The moment dragged on. Sasha coughed. Fuzzy scratched back. Kenji just looked at her. Chip was very still, understanding what was next. But there was so much. Her secret was so big. Every nuanced explanation died on her lips. This was something she hadn’t practiced, something she’d hoped to spare them. But that was no longer possible. You can't spare people from the future, even if the future changes. “You okay?” asked Sasha. Kenji was all smiles, still allowing Julie an out. Even now she was tempted, but she shoved that feeling away. Part of her wanted to call on Chip for emotional support, but she shoved that feeling away too. This needed to be her choice and she didn’t want her feelings treated like a scared animal to be coaxed out of a cage. “No, I’m really not,” said Julie, honestly. Admitting that felt like the first stirrings of a fist clenched tightly for a long time. Uncoiling that part of herself felt like the first step towards of relaxation. Like she was finally starting to unclench. “I mean…” said Sasha, somewhat awkwardly, “You can tell us.” “Yeah,” said Fuzzy. “Only if you want to,” said Kenji. Chip stayed silent, but continued to prod at Julie with their emotional connection. He wanted to connect, to reassure, but this was something that she wanted to do on her own. Not had to, but wanted to. So she flashed him a little smile and shook her head and he nodded a little in response. He wasn’t offended. They’d spent the last few weeks working on being independent of one another after all. “I saw the future,” said Julie, finally, just blurting it out, “Last semester. A lot of people died and I...I don’t know how to deal with it.” The unclenching continued. She’d been wound up so tight that she hadn’t known it had been so bad. Yes there was fear, but admitting what had happened to everyone had an almost narcotic relief to it. Her shoulders sagged, she closed her eyes and took what felt like the first real breath she’d taken in...Well, she couldn’t remember when. There was some laughter, but it wasn't mean. Julie knew that much. But confession? It was so nice. “Okay, not what I was expecting,” said Sasha, glibly. Kenji just snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, okay, sure,” he said, “You saw the future.” Julie imagined they were both smirking or smiling as her eyes were still closed, but she heard nothing from Fuzzy nor Chip. Julie didn’t have to look at herself in the astral to feel the tension bleed out of her. All of that pent up anxiety was fading away. Not completely and it was replaced with new fears and maintained with old ones, but her relief ruled for the moment. That pile of horror inside of her shrank. “It was last fall,” said Julie, the words tumbling out of her, “I was with Mrs. Maureen and doing a kind of initiation. You know, trying to go into the depths of magic. I was taking my first steps to it through guided ritual. Trying to lose myself in work and study because I didn’t really like myself.” The laughter stopped. Julie didn’t notice. “Pretty standard going from child to young adult stuff,” said Julie, and then she smiled briefly, “There were questions: Who am I? What is my purpose? What is my role in the community?" The room pulsed each time she asked those questions, like a heartbeat. Like when they'd talked about pack. Julie gulped. The others looked around too, confused. But it wasn't complete yet. There was tension in the air, a wound up spring, waiting to be released. So Julie tried to release some of that tension with a little transgression. "I took petote with her," said Julie, "A friend of mine had a good laugh about that later.” Julie had a flash of sitting in a prison, only a few months out, fresh out, watching Big Rita, her old cellmate, laugh until she cried. It was a good feeling. “You took hallucinogens with Mrs. Maureen?” asked Kenji. "What's peyote?" asked Fuzzy, "Is it like edibles?" "I'll tell you later," sighed Sasha, "Is someone else showing up?" "I don't know," said Julie, suddenly nervous again. “Man, I got poo poo about Long Haul and it only kept me awake," sighed Kenji, "I had to dig a hole to put in my own personal shame pole." Julie could read him now, past the mask. He was following her lead, trying to keep everyone calm. "“Then you get high with your teacher and it’s cool," he groused, "There’s no justice.” The tension was still wound tight, but she suddenly grasped it. They were all going back through her ritual with Mrs. Maureen. "Craaaaap..." groaned Julie, "Okay um...We're going to my house." “At least there's tacos," said Chip. "What tacos?" asked Sasha. Kenji opened his mouth to make a joke, but it never left his lips. Julie brought her friends home.
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May 18, 2020 00:46
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I have another update after this that should follow within the next hour or so. Editing is a pain though. Also I'm going to edit the last update and one a few updates back by request.
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May 18, 2020 00:47
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Happy Julie is doing this, though I suppose I'm saying this without the other shoe dropping yet. Definitely did not expect them to relive the vision quest. I wonder if Oracle is going to be part of it or wait until it's over.
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May 18, 2020 01:12
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Julie, Kenji, Fuzzy, Sasha and Chip - Time is Meaningless - The Freeman Household A thick hand with strong, calloused fingers deposited Julie’s favorite drink into her hands. She smiled automatically, with a delight she both felt and didn’t, the memory of a feeling and the now. It was disconcerting. “Te amo,” said her father, Charles. “I love you too, daddy,” said that echo of Julie, from her own lips. The memory of a dead man leaned forward and kissed Julie on top of her head and then ambled over to his favorite recliner. He sighed happily as he relaxed. The lump in Julie’s throat grew along with an ugly, twisting feeling in her guts. Normally she sped through this part and the next on her way to the memory of the future massacre, but it was a kind of path, or at least that’s how she thought of it. There was scenery on the way. That included her father, dead by her hands with his hands around her throat some two years ago. Her friends all stood in the memory of her living room, all confused as to how they got here, except for Chip who had been here a few times on the way to Denny Park. “Brrr…” said Kenji. "What?" asked Julie. "He walked through me," said Kenji. "Sorry," said Julie. She smiled a smile she didn't feel. "Everyone. Meet my dad." Everyone looked. No one talked. They all knew about Julie and her dad, or at least how he'd died trying to strangle her. Their faces flashed with emotions. Fuzzy narrowed her eyes and purposefully turned her back on him. Sasha's face twisted into a grimace. Kenji's face grew cold. Chip, having been here a few times and already having given the dead man the evil eye, sniffed the tacos on the air. “Where is this?" asked Fuzzy. “And where did Julie go?” asked Sasha. It was hard not to go through the motions of the scene. Normally Julie sat down on the couch closest to her dad. She’d sip her horchata and her cat, Schwoogie, would sit on her lap and purr and she’d stroke it with her soft, brown, human hand. “I'm right here,” said Julie. A smaller, human figure, maybe twelve looked at her friends. Still gawky, still gangly, but shorter and softer of skin and with a little lingering baby fat around the face. She smiled shyly at her friends and showed off metal braces, because her dad couldn’t afford to just have her teeth aligned or plastic ones or… Julie shook her head. It was so easy to get wrapped up in the past here. So easy to go through the motions. She’d even taken a sip of her horchata and it tasted just as much of home as she remembered. “Yeah, hi,” she said. Kenji seemed to be the first to realize who she was. “This your home, Julie?” he asked. Fuzzy turned to see Julie and the realization hit her and Sasha at the same time. “Yeah,” said Julie, " "This is...Was...My house. Or at least the version of my house I saw in my ritual." “Oh wow,” said Sasha. “How’d we get here?” asked Fuzzy. Julie thought about it and frowned in thought. Pursing her lips made her braces press against her flesh, which was something she really could have done without. “I think that place is a lot more slippery than I initially thought,” she said, "Kenji, you're the ritual leader. Any idea how we got here?" "No idea," he said, "This is way beyond what I studied up on. I'm just making the spell work with the rest of you. You tell me." “What do you mean the place is slappery?” asked Fuzzy Fuzzy lifted her shoes, noting that the carpet was definitely not slippery. “I meant the concept of place,” said Julie, "Not She sipped her horchata again. It really was good, spiced just how she liked it. The memory of the horchata’s flavor was sweet, but the overall feeling was bittersweet. Still, even here, she couldn’t resist horchata or the feeling of her old couch or her cat. It was lovely to dwell on things past and so she allowed herself another sip, to sit and of course, her cat jumped up into her lap and she pet him. Then she caught Chip going through the kitchen door and this roused her. “No, Chip!” she exclaimed. Chip paused at the threshold between living room and kitchen, almost about to cross over. He paused and looked at her. “I was going to get tacos,” he said. Suddenly, the dream sharpened in intensity. The smell of tacos became distinct, soy meat and cumin filled the air, her mother’s cooking. The sound of the Seadogs game came into focus, the announcer speaking. Her dad cracked open another beer and grumbled at something indistinct on the trid. A man swinging late at a fastball. The faces of the audience were hazy. The numbers in the corner was a suggestion of a score. Even her father was becoming more distinct. She remembered his frown, the way he gestured at the trideo in disdain. “Come on! It’s three-one and you don’t can’t see the fastball coming?” he growled, “Amateur hour. How the hell do you get paid millions? Anyone could see that pitch coming.” Julie shivered at the sound of her dead father's voice. It was so normal for him to drink beer on his favorite chair and complain about baseball. Her mother's cooking so familiar and heart-wrenching. She wanted to stay here forever. She wanted to flee. Instead she beckoned Chip away from the doorway. “We’re not supposed to go through doors or doorways or anything door-like,” said Julie, “I wouldn’t even mess with stairs. This isn’t just my memory. We’re elsewhere too. If you go through a doorway, you might not be able to come back. Don’t get lost.” Chip thought about this and nodded, then sat down on the couch next to her. Then Julie tried to explain herself, how the concept of place was slippery, but her friends were investigating the living room. “So yeah, place is slippery,” said Julie, “I think Dog put us deeper into that liminal space. The best way to describe this place is like dreaming.” Sasha was the first to look at her. She’d been inspecting the old trideo. Not that this had been long ago, but the tech was from the 2050’s, pre Crash 2.0, retrofitted by endless tinkering by her dad. The household devices had always been a source of constant anxiety. Yes, fixing them saved on bills. Being part of a huge family meant being thrifty, but constantly fixing things meant those things were always breaking and it drove her dad up the wall each time it happened. “Yeah, this has a dream logic to it,” said Sasha, who pointed at the screen, “I can’t read the score. Numbers are always weird in dreams. That and the moon, but I can't see the moon from here. It’s how I check if I’m dreaming or not. Dreamsign. Anyway, welcome back.” “What?” asked Julie. “You zoned out for a while,” said Sasha, “You just sipped your drink and watched the trid and pet your cat. We tried talking to you and you’d answer questions, but it didn’t feel like you were fully there. Like you were sinking into the background. I lost all of you for a while. You know, not lost-lost, but you all just sank into the dream. You only woke up when Chip tried to go into the kitchen for tacos.” “Huh…” said Julie, “How long was I out?” "Was I dreaming?" asked Chip, mouth open in awe, "I've never dreamed before. Julie, was I dreaming?" "I have no idea," said Julie. "Sasha, was I dreaming?" asked Chip, excitedly. "Maybe? You were acting like it," said Sasha, with a shrug, “Time and place are slippery in dreams. Anyway, this is pre-Crash stuff, you know that? I’m surprised you could get it to work.” “Yeah,” said Julie, “D-Dad did. It was embarrassing. Everyone had new stuff but...You know, big family.” This made Sasha pause, careful of the subject matter. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring up a touchy subject," she said. Julie looked over at the semi-distinct form of her dad and grimaced. "My touchy subject is currently complaining about baseball right next to me. I don't think you could do much worse." Sasha grimaced and folded her arms. ”Yeah uh...Sorry anyway." “No problem,” said Julie, "What was your question again?" "The tech? I've never seen a house so full of old tech," said Sasha, "Not old-old. This isn't old enough to be retro yet." "Just old? Not enough to be cool?" Sasha's grimace deepened and she sighed. "You're really making me feel like an rear end in a top hat here." Julie felt her cheeks warm. "Not trying to, sorry. Uhh...Let's see. The tech." Time passed as Julie thought about her answer. She almost slipped back into this place, but Chip leaned up against her. Julie smiled at him. Though they weren't connecting magically, it was nice to be next to him. That kind of connection was just fine. “The reason we have so much old tech is because my dad didn't get paid much and liked having kids, including me, youngest of nine,” said Julie, “Basically everyone had moved out by this point. They had me late. I have a brother who’s twenty years older than me. John. I don’t know him very well. I mean, we’d see each other sometimes, but we didn’t really have much in common. He felt more like my uncle than my brother. He was a longshoreman like my dad. Then when his job got automated and he didn’t really do much of anything.” Sasha nodded quietly. Julie was already done with the memories though. Too painful. “Anyway, we they don’t talk to me anymore,” said Julie, “No mail, no visits, nothing, not in prison or at school. Sometimes that side of my life doesn’t even feel real. Like I never had a family.” “You’ve got me,” said Chip. Julie beamed at him, feeling instantly better. She threw an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. “I do, don’t I?” she asked. Sasha grew quiet and Julie belatedly realized that she’d mentioned family in front of her friend. A sore spot for both of them, but in different ways. “Oh...Oh I’m so sorry,” said Julie, quickly, “I didn’t.” “It’s fine,” said Sasha, dully, and then much later, “How do you deal with it?” “It?” “Them being gone.” Julie frowned in thought. “Found new people,” said Julie, “Got me through. Not in the best condition though. Not always the greatest influences...” “Sorry,” said Sasha, “I know I’m not the best friend sometimes but…” “No, not you,” interrupted Julie, “Big Rita. My old celly. The rest of the car. Picked up a lot of bad habits. Ugly thoughts. Took a long time to deal with those. I’m still dealing, honestly. You're fine, Sasha. I wasn't talking about you.” Sasha nodded slowly in acknowledgement. “Car?” asked Chip. “Slang for a prison clique,” said Julie, “Who you eat meals with. Who you’re cool with. Who watches your back. I was the baby there too.” “I’m the youngest here though,” said Chip, officially. “How old are you exactly?” asked Sasha. Chip shrugged and looked longingly at the kitchen. The smell of tacos was in the air, just out of reach beyond the threshold, tempting. Julie wondered when she'd last eaten. “Oh, you know,” he said distractedly, “I was a baby for basically forever before Julie found me. Or at least really weak and small, so close enough. I was a kid for half a year after she found me. A teen for a couple weeks now. Adapting is weird. I get treated different now.” “Would tacos make adapting easier?” asked Sasha. “Sasha…” said Julie, warningly, “No going past the threshold. Any threshold.” “It’s fine,” said Sasha, “Now that I get that we’re basically dreaming I can whip up some tacos. I understand dream logic. "Yeah, weird that it's a dream," said Julie, "I wasn't dreaming when I came here the first time. I still don't get how we met a spirit mentor either. I thought you only saw them in dreams." “Well you know how spirit mentors normally contact someone?” asked Sasha, “You’ve read about this stuff, right?” Then Julie remembered. “Through dreams,” she said, and slapped her forehead, “I'm a dummy. Right. That’s how it works with Kenji and Dog. I thought we were awake though.” “I mean, we were,” she said, “And when we started trying to contact spirit mentors, or at least opening up to them, that means sleep. We’re probably all passed out on the log benches right now or asleep on the dirt floor.” “Then how are we doing the ritual?” asked Chip. “We just are,” said Sasha, “Rituals are weird sometimes.” “Huh.” “Anyway, tacos,” said Sasha, “Look over there for a second. Woo-ooo.” She pointed and made a few funny noises, directing Julie and Chip’s gaze. There was some thumping on the carpet as Sasha ran to get something. There was a long unzipping sound, like that of a jacket and when they looked back, there were plates full of tacos, both crunchy and soft, all of them hot. “Tada!” exclaimed Sasha, “Dream logic.” “Tacos!” shouted Chip. He crunched his taco between his teeth, face ecstatic as someone on the trid got walked. Julie’s father grunted and sipped his beer as the announcer lazily went through what was going on, voice indistinct. Then it occurred to Julie that she hadn’t seen Fuzzy or Kenji and looked around. There she found Fuzzy, sitting on a chair, staring outside through a window. Kenji had swiped a beer and was sipping it, looking at Julie’s father with a gaze that spoke of dark contemplation from a chair. “Are they okay?” asked Julie. “They’re in the dream,” said Sasha, “I’m babysitting, making sure they don’t go through anything. People like to wander in dreams. Fuzzy is watching the outside for intruders and Kenji is keeping an eye on your dad.” “I must not have been out that long if they're not wandering around. People wander around in dreams, right?” asked Julie. "Oh, you've all been out for a while," said Sasha, seriously, "Keeping someone in place is surprisingly hard. Luckily you've got me. I'm a pro at this stuff. I’ve been doing this dream stuff since freshman year. Got the spell and everything.” Sasha picked up a taco and crunched into it while Julie picked up a soft one out of habit. The shards from the crunchy tacos would get in her braces sometimes and getting them out was a pain. "So good," whimpered Chip. “I thought you couldn’t taste non-magical food,” said Sasha. Chip wolfed down one of the two tacos he had, one in each hand and waggled his eyebrows. “I can taste magic and sort of taste food,” he explained, “But this is different. I'm tasting it how you remember it. These are memory tacos. That means I'm tasting how you remember tacos. How’d you do that, anyway? Summon tacos?” Sasha wiggled her fingers in a vaguely magical way. “I'm a dream witch” she said, mock mysteriously. "Really?" asked Chip. "Yeah, basically. Like, novice lucid dreamers would have to actually go to the kitchen to get tacos, but then you might end up somewhere else.” “Tacoless,” giggled Julie. “Right,” said Sasha, “Even with magic I can’t just create food out of nothing. Not unless it’s an illusion and illusiory food won't actually make me less hungry. You can taste it, but it dissolve in your mouth like cotton candy, which is weird. Fuzzy and I tried with her illusion spell when I asked her one time." "Sounds neat," said Julie. "Sort of. She's not the best at casting spells, so the food tasted funny. Anyway, food summoning. I think it’s harder to literally summon food while knowing spells because I can’t just do that. There’s no food creation spell. No creating or destroying matter.” “Well actually…” began Julie. “Lalalalala can’t hear you,” said Sasha, playfully, hands briefly over her ears, “No edge cases. You’re just pushing or pulling matter to or from elsewhere and then it goes away when you stop concentrating on it. I know that's not all of it, but if I explain you're eyes might glaze over and I'll have to wake you up out of the dream again. Also don't mix up your rules about matter with dreams. Dream logic beats up Newton's three laws and steals their lunch money.” Julie smiled wrly. “Fine,” grumped Julie, “Dreams aren't the real world.” “That's right. Though I don't know if we're fully in a dream or if magic is mixing with dreams. That's slippery too, which is why I'm extra careful. Anyway, I know, magic is weird sometimes and doesn’t always make logical sense,” said Sasha, “Take tacos for instance. Since I know I can’t magic up a taco, it’s harder to get it out of nowhere. It takes years of practice with lucid dreaming to whip up something out of nowhere without a source.” “So you pulled them out of a duffel bag?” said Julie. Sasha looked down and kicked a duffel bag. “Yep. I mean I could literally make them appear, but it's a pain and it doesn't always work and if I do it too much it gives me a headache,” said Sasha, “But you could maybe, possibly find tacos in a bag. That makes more sense than pulling them out of the air." "Where'd you get the duffel bag?" "Oh, you know," said Sasha. She pointed behind the couch. "Wherever you might find a duffel bag," she said, "I actually found this one behind the couch, just out of sight." "Because..." "Because one might be there." Julie frowned. "So you looked behind the couch, looking for a duffel bag, because it might be there..." "Yep," said Sasha, "It's about expectation and desire." "And that bag might have tacos in it. You desired tacos."" "Helps that I smelled them," she said, with a long sniff, "I’ll take you on a dream tour sometime. I used to do it for sleepovers as the last dare of the night for truth or dare. The loser went first and then we’d all trade off, going through dreams. It was embarrassing, but everyone was doing it, so it was okay...Usually.” “Usually?” asked Julie. “Yeeeeah,” sighed Sasha, gustily, “Dreams are uh...Amoral. Touring through someone’s unfiltered desires with a group got harrowing a few times. Harrowing and weird.” “How weird?” “Really weird,” said Sasha, intentionally vague, “Weird and scary. Sometimes like, felony scary. I thought that that would’ve been the end of the slumber party train when I saw a girl dream up this multiple felony scenario, but it actually made me more popular for a while. When everyone sees everyone’s deepest, darkest desires, then it’s basically mutually assured destruction, so no one says anything. Let me tell you, young corporate nobility can really imagine some poo poo. Girls especially. I mean, I’ve been in guys’ dreams, but they have nothing on the girls.” “Really?” asked Chip, through a mouthful of taco. "Thought you'd slipped back into the dream," said Sasha. Chip finished the taco and licked his lips. "Nope, just enjoying food for the first time ever. Memory food is great." "It really is," said Sasha, "Sometimes Fuzzy and I go on picnics and we'll get whatever comes out of the picnic basket." “I’m guessing it has to do with the average amount of repression or something?” asked Julie. “Huh? Oh yeah. Oh yeeeeeeeah," she drawled, meaningfully, "The straighter the laces, the greater the tension. What’s underneath can get wild.” “Makes sense,” said Julie. Julie tried to summon more horchata, but it didn’t work. She was at the dregs. “Want more?” asked Sasha. “Please?” Sasha took Julie’s mug, opened a pocket of the duffel bag, tilted the bag and out poured out a drink. "That is so weird," said Julie. "Dream witch best witch," said Sasha. Sasha gave Julie’s dream cat a little scratch and gave Julie back her mug. Then Julie gave it a taste and frowned. Definitely not horchata. Instead it tasted like a thin cream of wheat, but chocolatey with nutty undertones. Not unpleasant, but not horchata either. “Is this chocolate?” asked Julie. She dipped a finger inside and it was indeed chocolate. “Oh, uh…” said Sasha, “Right, normally I make that for Fuzzy.” “What is it?” asked Julie. “Atole,” said Sasha, “Technically when it's chocolatey it's called champurrado, but she just calls it atole and so I do too. That’s the drink she grew up with. Though it was more soy-tole. She’d get it after coming back from hunts when she lived in Puyallup. It’s corn based with some...I think she calls it masa? I don’t know. I swear, she’s blonde haired, blue eyed and light skinned and I think she’s more Mexican than I am sometimes.” Julie giggled in sympathy. Ethnically she was afro-latina, for what it was worth, but didn’t really have much connection to either culture beyond food or hair styles. “Can I drink that?” asked Chip. “Sure. Regular or chocolate? I can try to get regular. Regular goes well with tamales.” “What are tamales?” he asked, excitedly, "Can you make them?" “You're talking to the dream witch. Hell yeah I can.” This time she pulled out a thermos and a cup from the duffel. Julie frowned. "Did you literally pour out a drink from a duffelbag side pouch as some sort of weird flex when you could just get a thermos?" asked Julie. Sasha didn't answer. She only smiled. Soon the tacos were accompanied by tamales. Julie once again had her horchata and Chip had atole. He ate and drank reverently, savoring each new flavor in a way that Julie knew was significant. The ally spirit of knowledge was deeply engrossed in new tastes. “Real taste?” she asked. Chip looked like he wanted to weep, he was so happy. “Real food,” he said, between bites. “Real memories,” said Sasha. “Same difference I guess,” said Julie. “Yeah, I’m the best dream cook, crap real cook,” snarked Sasha, “You want more, you ask.” “More?” asked Chip, in awe. Sasha winked at him. “Now that I know I can pull you into a dream, we’ll talk later,” she said, “And I’ll expose you to all of the delights a former rich girl has ever eaten or drank. You wouldn't believe how many five star restaurants I've been to. Better in fact. Little places you wouldn't know to go to unless you're told where it is. Menus with no prices. Corporate types dress casual. That's where the good stuff is. Five stars is overrated. Anyway, you eat up, Julie and I…” “Need to talk,” said Julie, beating her to the punch. They stared at each other Julie and Sasha. Chip didn’t though. He looked to Julie, who nodded at him and so he allowed himself to be lost in the food. “Yeah,” said Sasha, “So uh…” “The future,” said Julie. It was easier now. Making that choice. Not easy, though, just easier. “For real?” asked Sasha. Julie saw the disbelief, but also the curiosity. Previous confidence and bravado diminished, but not gone. “We’re on the road to it,” said Julie, “This is where it starts. Always here. I try to skip past and sometimes I can get out fast, but…” “You always come back,” said Sasha. "Yeah." They didn’t say anything more on the subject of home. Something they both shared. Longing for what could never be again. Julie moved on. “And then I was in the hospice, helping Kenji’s friend and this little boy they rolled in,” said Julie, "It was...Me, Marco, Mother Bear, Julian, Kenji and...Oh crap. That...That woman from the fight. The...Chinese one I think? I knew I remembered her from somewhere." "The fight in Touristville?" asked Sasha, coolly. Julie gulped. Sasha hadn't been called, only told later. There'd been an understanding when Sasha got into her own fight, but that spot seemed a little sore. "Yeah," said Julie, "He brought...Well I think you'll see her later. She's a shadowrunner." Sasha's eyebrows climbed high. "Kenji knows shadowrunners?" Julie shrugged a little. Normally Julie would have kept her mouth shut, but that piece of information might come up. Better to tell her now rather than later. "I knew bikers, gangers, thieves, murderers," she said, "That was prison. If you're in a scary place, you know scary people and Kenji is from a scary place. If you're lucky, scary people like you enough not to mess with you. If you're really lucky, they have your back." Sasha looked conflicted. “Anyway, it was winter. Near Christmas,” said Julie, “I think you were on vacation with Fuzzy.” “Cali, yeah,” said Sasha, distractedly. “Well, I was learning about myself and who I was with Mrs. Maureen,” said Julie, “The hospice is the second stop. I’d built up so much of my identity after prison around my magic and then…” “Then?” Julie stroked the cat in her lap and grimaced at the taste of the past, having a drink to wash it down. “I failed,” said Julie, “I thought I was this powerful shaman and that if I could do one thing, I could help someone get over being sick. Life or death sick, not just regular sick. I failed completely for the first time. It really hurt.” “That's rough." Julie waved her mug dismissively. “No, it’s fine,” she said, “It was good for me. Not good for the patients, but...Well, they turned out okay. Mrs. Maureen said you don’t really learn by succeeding. You learn through failure. I needed to fail. I wish it hadn’t happened when someone’s life was on the line, but it worked out without me. I think if I’d kept going like I was going, I was just going to raise myself up higher only to fall further and it’d hurt even more when I hit bottom.” Sasha didn’t say anything, she only looked contemplative. She sipped on a bottle of Fizzychug soda which Julie hadn’t noticed. The oddness of it suddenly being there wasn’t remarked on, as she’d taken for granted that Sasha could get her hands on anything in dreams. Funny how it all became so normal so quickly. “And after that,” said Julie, “The future.” “You’re serious?” “Dead-rear end loving serious,” sighed Julie, “Wish I wasn’t. I wasn’t even handling my own crap and I got handed way more.” “Well, that’s how I know it’s serious,” said Sasha. “How?” “You don’t swear much.” Julie grunted softly. “Guess not. I think it's me thinking about prison. I used to swear a lot more.” “Hmm...Then what happened?” Julie didn’t know how to sugar coat a massacre, but she could at least check in to see how Sasha was doing. “How’s your anxiety?” she asked. Sasha’s face split into a relieved smile and she let out a deep breath. “Great!” enthused Sasha, “I think Dog did something about it. Not as bad as normal because I’d taken one of my sleeping meds. Fuzzy woke me up and I was a little messed up from it, but I dealt with it and got some quality time without all that death on her. I think it’s what got me through doing the ritual. Otherwise I'd probably have flubbed it.” “Yeah, like I said, I know the feeling.” Sasha nodded seriously. “Well I was dealing, but only well enough," and continued, "Then Dog came by and gave me some licks and I rubbed him down and then...It’s gone. Not medicated away, like, gone-gone.” “For good?” asked Julie, interest piqued. “I mean, I can hope,” said Sasha, “Probably not my luck though. I'm enjoying it while it lasts and dream time means it lasts a long time. Or hardly any time at all. Depends.” Sasha turned her head to Kenji, who was still sipping the pilfered beer, still glaring daggers at Julie’s indistinct father. “Thinking about taking him up on his offer?” asked Julie. Sasha bit her lip and looked away, suddenly ashamed, cheeks darkening. “Am I that obvious?” she asked. “I wasn’t able to deal with...What we’re going to see until I got therapy,” said Julie, “Not for what’s coming, but for what had already happened. It lightened the load enough that I could start to carry it instead of just getting crushed.” Sasha focused on Julie, eyes focused. “And what’s coming?” Julie wanted to pull her knees up to her chest. As if on cue, Shcwoogie gracefully bounded off her lap and onto the carpet, tail swaying, making Julie wonder just how real her memory of her cat was. A sense of loss overcame her. Her cat was probably still at home, but she’d likely never see him again. This made her pull her knees to her chest all the tighter. “People die,” said Julie, quietly, “Badly. Unexpectedly. In rage and pain and terror.” Sasha only stared and so Julie went on. “There was a protest,” she continued, “In Denny Park. It was so full. So hot. I don’t...There were two masses of people opposing each other. A line of police in the middle. Too thin. Gunshots going off. The police were telling everyone to go home over loudspeakers. Mother Bear…” “She was there?” asked Sasha. “Yeah,” said Julie, “We were at this booth. A medical station. I think it was the school’s.” “Why would the school set up a medical station at a violent protest?” asked Sasha. Julie shrugged her shoulders and pulled her knees in tighter. “Don’t know,” said Julie, “But Mother Bear was there. So was…” Julie looked to Kenji, still immersed in the dream and lowered her voice. “Edward was there,” she whispered. “Not Kenji?” asked Sasha. Julie was quiet as she dealt with her feelings on the matter. “I think Kenji was gone,” she said, sadly. Sasha furrowed her brow. “Like, poof gone?” she asked. “Fuzzy said that Edward had killed Kenji,” said Julie, “Even now I have no idea how that’s even possible. I didn’t know how to approach it. Not even close. so...I focused on other stuff. I don't feel good about not doing much, but I tried to be a friend. That's all I could do, really.” Sasha concentrated, her frown deepening. “We haven’t seen him in a while, have we?” she asked. “Edward?” “Yeah.” Ugly feelings roiled around in Julie’s stomach. “Do you want to ask him?” asked Julie. “No, do you?” “No, but I might have to.” “Well...That’s for another time, I guess. Maybe soon. What else did you learn?” Julie hesitated, dancing around the subject of Sasha’s supposed future suicide. “I was only there for about a minute. Mrs. Maureen and me, anyway.” She wasn’t dodging the question. Only looking for a better moment. “There guiding you or there in the...Future I guess?” “Guiding me.” “What did she say?” “When we got to the riot?,” asked Julie, “Mostly she was screaming for me. Saying we needed to get out of there. We talked a little and she made sure I was okay and she never mentioned it again. I think she’s scared of me. We hit it off so well early on and now she avoids me unless I’m in her class. It’s not mean, just...I give her space. She gives me space. It’s easier that way I guess. She had um...” Julie remembered Mrs. Maureen, her beautiful face twisted up in panic and fear, her face covered in sand and tears as she clung to Julie’s shirt. “A bad reaction,” finished Julie, lamely. “Okay…” “Fuzzy was there too,” said Julie, delicately, “But not the one we know.” Again Julie looked to the window. There was Fuzzy, still looking out, a huntress in waiting. “Still don’t know how you get them to sit still like that,” said Julie. Then she looked to Chip, who was continuing to slowly eat tacos and tamales while drinking atole and sneaking drinks from Julie’s horchata. He looked to her as she looked to him and she shook her head. She was doing this alone and he nodded in understanding before going back to the food. “Practice,” said Sasha, lost in thought, “What about Fuzzy though?” Julie winced. This was something she didn’t like to remember. “She uh…” said Julie, awkwardly. Sasha watched Julie as she struggled with the event. “She hit me in the face and then held a knife to my throat,” whispered Julie. Sasha’s head whipped back as if she’d been slapped. “What?!” “Yeah.” “What the gently caress? Fuzzy wouldn’t do that.” “I don’t think our Fuzzy would,” said Julie, “This one? Not so nice. She was...Angry. Hurting. She put this piece of paper into my hand. I gave it to our Fuzzy. She thought it was significant. I gave it to her. I don't know what she did with it.” “A paper from another world?” "Yeah," said Julie, "Folded up a bunch. Folded and unfolded and folded again. Had that look to it. I had a good look at it. It wasn't magical. It was just...Paper." "Huh...Going to have to talk to her about that." Sasha was silent for a while. Julie had no idea how long and so she sipped her drink and took a look at her younger, once human hands. Finally, Sasha held up a finger. “First thing, you told Fuzzy about this? When?” Julie felt this pit open up in her stomach. Here it came. She’d never wanted to keep things from her friends. Never wanted to betray them. But here she was… “Last fall,” sighed Julie, “I went to a concert with Fuzzy because she needed help finding Oli and Tek. Their dad, Dave, asked for help watching over them just in case.” Sasha made her lips into a thin line. “Oh I remember him,” she growled, “He beat the poo poo out of her.” “They beat each other up,” soothed Julie, “Tek was…” Julie remembered that he’d come by later, having passed more than a little blood in his urine and finally got real treatment. Still, she couldn’t just say so. Doctor patient confidentiality laws were important for ethical and legal reasons. “Hurt,” she hedged, “She provoked him. Anyway, not the point. I went to Mother Bear and Julian first.” “Not us?” asked Sasha. Julie thought about it and shrugged. “I was still in that place in my life where I’d go to trusted adults,” said Julie, “I went to them first.” “How’d that work out?” Julie let out an exasperated sigh. “I found out teachers are just people and that adults don’t know everything,” she sighed, “They honestly weren’t that much help. Not even you know, emotionally. I felt like I was getting handled like a live bomb sometimes and they were so careful that they didn't really do anything. So...I went to Fuzzy to confide. In the stuff that mattered. I told her the smallest piece.” Julie’s heart sped up and quickly began to hammer in her chest, which was odd, because she knew she was dreaming now. Did the magic make it different? She wasn’t sure. Her mouth dried up as well and she wasn’t sure about that either. All she knew is that she was dreading this. That she might end their friendship here and now. “Which was?” asked Sasha, tone neutral. Julie flicked her eyes to Sasha’s, exchanging a gaze only briefly before looking away. “That you’d killed yourself.” There was more of course. Stuff about LeBlanc not having any kids. She still had no idea what that meant. That she should let Kenji get recruited by her. Not to make the same mistakes again, as if this had happened before. There was so much there with so little context. The game was nice though. Julie's attention wavered as Sasha didn't speak. Her heart slowed. There was food on the table. Pop fly into center field. Caught, thrown to short-stop and then to first base. Not a triple play, but close. Strikeout. The inning changed and changed and changed and... Fingers were snapping in front of Julie and she blinked. “What?” asked Julie, “What happened?” “You fell back into the dream,” said Sasha, “I lost my concentration and you just started watching baseball. Took me ages to pull you out again. My fingers hurt and they're not even real. That's how long I've been snapping.” Julie felt her cheeks heat up. “Sorry…” Julie’s guts, still hollow, twisted up. She’d lost her concentration and had wanted to explain, but that moment was past. Instead, to her surprise, Sasha sat down and put an arm around her shoulder. “So you’re going to ask the spirit mentors for guidance, right?” asked Sasha. “Yeah I...What?” asked Julie, suddenly startled and confused, “How did you know?” “I asked you a bunch of questions to try and pop you out of the dream,” said Sasha, “It’s harder than you think. I caught myself up once I knew which threads to pull on. I’ve been here in this room for...gently caress I don’t know. Days? Weeks? I got bored, okay?” Julie winced. She didn't remember answering questions, but Sasha seemed to. “Yeah…” “You explained it to me. Dangerous information, right?” Julie nodded vigorously. “Could get you kidnapped or killed?” Julie nodded even harder, pulling her knees into her chest so hard that her human, knobby knees hurt her chest. “And you weren’t supposed to tell anyone?” “Yeah.” “Okay, thanks for looking out for me,” she said, “I guess Fuzzy is the one least likely to screw you over.” “You make it sound so tactical,” said Julie, "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but Mother Bear and Julian weren't helping and..." Sasha raised a finger to Julie's lips. “I know they didn't. You told me. You did what you could to deal. Fuzzy can’t lie, but she can not say things. Barring someone reading her mind at exactly the right time, which she’d probably feel, she wasn’t going to say anything or betray your secret. Good call.” Julie smiled hesitantly. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought,” she said. Sasha squeezed her shoulder. “I had a long to think about it,” she said, “I raged out a little at first. Just a little...More than a little. Ate some tacos. Tried bringing Chip out of the dream through your emotional connection. Failed. It's uh...It's been a bit. Or maybe not. I don't know. Feels like a long time passed really quickly. But I think that you did the best you could with what you had. Also Dog taking away my anxiety means I wasn’t having several days or weeks or whatever passes for those full of panic attacks. Perfectly sane and rational. It was nice.” “Okay…” “Do me a favor?” “Anything.” Sasha nodded once, her face serious. “We can talk to Dog later, but we’re going to get to talk to a few more mentors, right?” “Probably. It’s kind of like...Open mic night for them. They’re allowed to come.” “Great!” said Sasha, with a fierce grin, “You want advice. I’ll help you get it. I want advice too. That’s what their deal is right, advice?” “Advice, perspective, power…” Sasha waved that away and Julie could tell that Sasha looked excited. “Forget about suicide,” she said, “It was never going to happen.” Julie’s breath hitched in her throat. “Really?” she asked, hopeful. “Yeah, never,” said Sasha, “No um...What’s the word? You know doctor stuff.” Sasha was snapping her fingers, trying to describe it. That made Julie even happier. Sasha was a smart person and if she didn't know what it was called, then she may never have been at risk. Was the future Fuzzy wrong? That pulled so much into question. “Suicidal ideation?” supplied Julie. "That where you fixate on killing yourself? Sounds like it.” “Yes.” “Then no. I was always more worried about all of you.” Another weight off Julie’s shoulders. More relief. It was definitely intoxicating. “Fuzzy will be really glad to hear that,” said Julie, her voice gentle. “I’ll tell her myself,” said Sasha, “All she does is hunt. No time for me. Frustrating. Worked a little rage out at that. Now I find out she didn't tell me...I mean, it's for a good reason, but..." "Uhhh..." said Julie, "Are you mad at her?" Sasha suddenly looked guilty. "Sorry I'm...I'm getting...Squirrelly in here. Is that a good word? My anxiety is gone, but I've just been here for so long and all I can do is dwell." "Okay..." said Julie, carefully. Sasha had thankfully not blamed Julie, but she seemed to be focusing on Fuzzy. Julie didn't know how long she'd been in this room, but she tried to ground her friend. "Fuzzy helps by providing," said Julie, as gently as she could, "She's hunting because it's a job. She wanted to get you your tuition so you'd be safe and it was something she could do for you. You didn't want it, remember?" Sasha seemed to deflate and turned her head to the side, cheeks blazing. "I remember...Just...I can't talk to her." "Then you should talk to her," said Julie. Sasha shook her head and laughed bitterly. "No, I mean, I've been stuck in this room for so long and when I try to talk to Fuzzy, I get single syllable responses. I hosed myself over out of her company. She's watching the window and won't look away until we leave. She's on guard and she's serious about it." Sasha sighed explosively. "I'm a little mad and I'm way cooped up is all and when I get mad and have too much time to dwell I'm a real bitch about it," grumbled Sasha, "I forget how focused she can get sometimes." "Oh..." Sasha managed a little smile though. "What gets me through though?" asked Sasha, "The words I, love and you are all single syllables. Nothing forced about it." Julie smiled back. "Helped you get through?" "Oh yeah," said Sasha, eyes wide, "Yeeeeah. Really yeah. Anyway, sorry, venting. I love her. Everyone has to vent sometimes though, right?" "Right." "Relationships aren't just storybook ideals where everyone gets along all the time, right?" "You're really talking to the wrong person about that." Sasha forced a smile, but there was more than a little shame in it too. "Well...If you ever want to find a guy, I can hook you up with..." Sasha paused, finger raised and backpedaled. "Nope, my social life is more hosed than yours. I'm stuck at school. Nice place, but I'm getting antsy. Cabin fever. Makes it worse being here. I think it's why I'm so hosed up at the moment. Don't tell Fuzzy? Sometimes I just need to vent. Chip just eats, Kenji mutters darkly, Fuzzy barely talks and you're the only one I can talk to." "How long has it been?" "Ffffffffuuuuuuuu...ck," groaned Sasha, "Just get me out of here." "Sure. What's that about Kenji though?" "Dark mutters. I uh...Stopped talking to him a while ago. I feel bad, but he was just making me worse and I don't think he was remembering the dream. Anyway!" Sasha sat down, suddenly very prim and put on her best smile. "Sprit mentors. Advice. Yeah?" asked Sasha. "It's in the name. Mentors." "Yeah-Yeah. I want advice. From them." Sasha grinned. It was more than a little manic. It scared Julie a little and she wondered just how long Sasha had been here. “I want to talk to my parents,” she said, “And I want to see about getting them out of jail. If you’re going to get advice, I want advice too. About all that. I can’t have my old life back, but maybe I can help them out and...And figure something out.” Julie wasn’t sure about how to feel about that. She wasn’t into politics or the news. All she knew is that Sasha’s dad was accused of flooding the city with drugs and causing massive amounts of misery. But one person couldn’t have done that all by themselves. Right? “Okay,” said Julie, relieved that she wasn’t losing her friend. “Okay, good,” said Sasha, “Do you know the way out of here?” “Yeah. I have to accept who I am again.” Sasha and pumped both of her arms into the air, then collapsed bonelessly against the couch in relief. "Free at loving last!" she shouted, "gently caress...Auuuugh. No offense, Julie, but I never want to come back here again. All right. While you’re doing that, help me herd these cats out of here.” Julie smiled and nodded, but looked to her dad, her cat, her home, breathed in the smell of her mother's cooking and listened to the game. All so familiar. It was painful, but it was her pain and she could face it now. So she stood up and offered Sasha a hand up. “Let’s go,” said Julie. Sasha took it and smiled. “Dream witch can't find the exit," she complained, but her complaint was cheerful, "Here I thought I’d be the one doing that." They grasped hands and Julie pulled her friend up to her feet. “I mean, I'm no dream witch, but I have the home field advantage." Sasha groaned. "Was that a pun?" She pointed at the trideo. "No,” said Julie, "Not on... “Because if it was a..." "Just trying to take charge more in my life," said Julie, talking over her, "You know, press the home field advantage?" Wait, since when?” asked Sasha, a hint of snark dancing around in her voice, then she frowned, "drat, I'm an rear end in a top hat right now. Squirrely as gently caress. Ugh. Sorry." “Be prepared to be uh...Unsquirreled," teased Julie, "But yeah. This take charge thing? New development. I had one of those sink or swim moments after missing my chance to talk to Dog. I sank. Now I'm working up my courage to talk to whoever shows up next.” “Learning how to swim? How's that working for you?” Julie walked towards Fuzzy, picking her to be next while trying to establish her emotional link with Chip. “Swimming is beyond me right now,” said Julie, her tone dry, " Instead I touched bottom and I'll see if I can kick off the ocean floor.” “Man, I feel that. Now let's get the gently caress out of here." And get the gently caress out of there they did. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 05:44 on May 18, 2020 |
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May 18, 2020 03:36
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Hey, there's a new Shadowrun CYOA on the forums if you want more SR in your life by poster Boba Pearl. It's still new, but I like it. Maybe go take a look. https://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3922709
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May 18, 2020 05:32
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That time skip in the middle of the dream was an interesting bit of narrative gymnastics. Lets the person who was probably least likely to handle the future sight deal with it believably without consuming many words, and quickly gets her the gist of the situation as well. Not out of the woods yet, of course. Bad end Fuzzy meeting a not-dead Sasha has the potential to be a loving trip. Oh gently caress and Kenji meeting Edward face-to-face, too.
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May 18, 2020 19:55
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