[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/VnLpajD.png[/img][h1][color=c0c0c0]E N D I N G S   &   B E G I N N I N G S[/color][/h1][sub][color=c0c0c0][b]Mentioned:[/b] Zarina, Abdel [@YummyYummy], Ayla, Maura, Ashon [@Ti], Fiske, Dory [@jasbraq], Cola Brothers [@Jumbus], Niallus [@Echotech71][/color][/sub][/center][hr][hr][center][h3][color=c0c0c0]Apology Tour[/color][/h3][/center]
[color=c0c0c0][hider=Chapter One]Marceline was seated at her desk - well, not truly [i]hers[/i], but the desk where she was staying - reviewing the mail that had built up over her two weeks of absence. [color=598527][i]Worthless, bothersome, worthless, worthless, ugh - okay, [b]why!?[/b][/i][/color] She flipped through them quickly, recognizing addresses and seals and sorting them based on those. [color=598527][i]Bothersome, yes, worthless, yes, maybe, [b]seriously?[/b][/i][/color] Generally, moments like this, where she sat in the light and warmth of the window, doing things with her hands, were the best. She could forget, for extended periods at a time, that half of her body didn't work and, when she forgot that, she could also forget that she had caused it all through her stupidity. 

She stared at the last letter in the pile, successfully distracted indeed. It would've been the first to actually arrive after she'd been unable to check her mailbox, so it was likely almost two weeks old. Her heart beat a little faster and, instinctively, she made to push back her chair with her feet. [color=598527][i]Fuck.[/i][/color] She glanced down and saw only the desk and the letters on it but, beneath, she knew they were there, motionless on her wheelchair's footrest unless one had slipped off from a careless maneuver or simply because they seemed to love doing so. She settled the letter on her lap, reached down to unlock her brakes, and pushed herself back up into a proper sitting position. The trick of it was to think of herself as only the portions she could feel, stacked on and connected to a bunch of deadweight below that was only useful insofar as it was a structure she had to account for. [color=598527][i]'Balance with what you have'[/i][/color] Jocasta had told her, and she tried to do it. [color=598527][i]'Better to fall forward than back. Your range of motion will stop you.'[/i][/color] If Marci hadn't mastered it, per se, she no longer existed in a constant state of instability, terrified of tipping over at any moment her arms weren't supporting her. [color=598527][i]And they all make it look so easy, somehow,[/i][/color] she thought of her mother, of Jocasta, of Isabella, Luisa, and Felix with some jealousy. In the future, that would be her, she told herself. She'd adjust. She'd adapt. It'd be seamless enough that some other poor little crippled kid would look at her and take heart in a livable future. [color=598527][i]Fuck that.[/i][/color] It provoked an immediate sour reaction. [color=598527][i]I hope there's no kid who [b]ever[/b] has to deal with this.[/i][/color]

Big, imprecise, cumbersome thing that she was now, Marceline turned on the spot and began 'pacing'. It was not a habit she wanted to lose, even if it felt unnatural right now, and it was good exercise anyhow. There was no missing the arms on her mother, Jocasta, Isabella, and the others, built up through years of wheeling themselves around. Just the thought of doing so should've made her tired, but the letter on her lap prevented it. [b]"Dearest Nina,"[/b] read the envelope, complete with the wax seal of House Hohenfelter, and she knew that it was not from Jurgen or - [color=598527][i]Manfred is gone.[/i][/color] She reached the end of the room, released a big breath that puffed out her cheeks, and turned, rolling back almost absentmindedly. Yet, there was never anything absentminded about her limited movement these days. Everything was onerous and intentional and less than it had been.

She made two complete trips to the ends of the long room, Domino hopping out of his bowl and trying to pace her, before letting herself drift to a stop midway through the third, slewing slightly to one side. Her fingernails dug into the envelope and tore the top open, but she paused. Who could say what emotions the letter might stir up? Who could say she'd be in a state to write on the other matters she would need to once she read it? Dropping it onto her lap, her hands found her wheels and she rolled back to the desk, her ground octopus anticipating her and planting himself at its corner proudly. After petting him absently, she took out her quill and inkpot, dipped the former into the latter, and pulled a paper from the tray. 

[hider=Dearest Zarina,]
I am sorry. I shall dispense with the usual pleasantries and smalltalk, for they feel so very meaningless now. I am sorry that I did not tell you. I am sorry that I made a rash decision, the consequences of which I shall live with indefinitely. I am sorry that I have left you to fend for yourself, not that you aren't capable of such. I find that all I do these days is dwell and hope and be sorry for things. I do not wish to. I wish to simply return to you, to my friends, to my classes, responsibilities, and to our business. I wish to resume normalcy as if nothing were amiss - and were it really so! - but, even with the help of the Gift, the injuries I have suffered in my foolhardiness are of such severity that I currently cannot. I believe that Jocasta has spoken with you at some length on the subject and so you must recognize the scale of the adjustments that it now falls upon me to make. I cannot say, with certainty, when I shall return but, rest assured, that I [u]shall[/u]. 

You are a truer sister than I have ever had, though nothing so simple as blood binds us in twine, and I shall abide by you for as long as I live. I simply need... time. I need to heal - not physically for, with the aid of the Gift, I am as well as I shall ever be again - but in my mind and in my soul, if a creature such as I truly has one (that was a jest, by the by). I must have some time to mourn a self that once was and shall never be again, to mourn the myth of my own invincibility that I cultivated dangerously following a string of unlikely and at-times unwarranted successes, and to come to terms with the failure of my own vaunted genius, which Dami has seen fit to humble in a most emphatic way. I must be able to look myself in the mirror, reduced as I now am, and still have regard for the woman I see before I might expect others to have such for her out of anything more than courtesy. 

I have been, latterly, in a wretched state but, these past two days have found something of a fire: some spark of determination. There is only so long one can wallow, after all. I wish to be effective upon my return. I know that I shall have to accept some assistance from time to time, but I am resolved to [s]stand[/s] stand on my own merits and I refuse to burden anyone with more than the odd favour, such as one might expect between friends and family. To this end, I have received dispensation to travel via spatial portal to the Refuge of San Agustin de las Arenas, where I expect to undergo rigorous training and therapy so that I might be able to resume my duties, lifestyle, and friendships with full rigour and ability upon my return. Stay safe, stay happy, and rest knowing that I am with you in spirit until such time as I appear, quite unexpectedly, smiling at you from the other side of a table.

Yours truly,

Marceline Hohenfelter von Meckelin-Thandau[/hider]

Satisfied with her work, Marci took a moment to fold it into thirds, slide it into an envelope, and seal it. Briefly, she considered heading over to the kitchen for some salted jerky and a cup of water, but it was too much trouble and she already had the start of her next letter firmly in mind. She took out a second paper, dipped her quill again, and began.

[hider=Dear Ayla,]
I hope this letter finds you happy, healthy, and... I promise I had a third adjective in mind when I began! In any case, the sentiment still stands. I apologize, as a friend, for perhaps not making the time for you that I should have, of late. You are ever a ray of sunshine and I fear I have spent so much time focused on matters far grimmer that I convinced myself were of paramount importance. I really have been rather ghastly, I fear. 

In any case, I wish to reaffirm that you are somebody whose friendship I treasure and to reassure you and others that, while I shall be away in Torragon for a couple of months at the Refuge of San Agustin de las Arenas, I plan to return a good deal healthier in mind, body, and spirit than when I left. Keep yourself well and feel free to use the sugars I've left in the pantry to make churros and tartas if you wish (I shall expect your best upon my return)! 

I ask you to give my regards to Kaspar, Ashon, Rikard, Abdel, and Maura - most especially the latter. I may have been placed, through my own arrogance and subsequent misfortune, on a path to understand and admire her somewhat better than before. Stay safe, stay wonderful, and keep smiling, Ayla.

Yours Truly,

Marceline Hohenfelter von Meckelin-Thandau[/hider]  

Domino had distracted her right near the start, but it was no great matter. This letter, too, she reread, folded, and sealed, placing it on the desk above the one to Zarina and the second towards the Méatan supplier she had unintentionally stood up. She cracked her knuckles and breathed deeply, the act nearly unsteadying her. [color=598527][i]Godsdammit. Fifteen going on Sixty.[/i][/color] A third paper was pulled in anticipation by Domino. A quill was inked - not by Domino - and she set to work on her third and most difficult one.

[hider=Dearest Fiske,]
I hope that this letter finds you well. Others have told me that you were healed fully after our disastrous intervention, but I now know well what the proverbial 'they' mean when they say that wounds of the heart and soul often outstrip those of the flesh. I shall not endeavour to sugarcoat matters: Juulet's reprise has rendered me a 'true tethered' now and half of my body is no longer mine to use. That is the hard truth of it. I shall not walk for as long as I live. It is something I am still coming to terms with, but I trust that, in due time, I shall reconcile myself to it and make the best of things.

More than anything, however, I do not want you to blame yourself. I do not want you to dwell on any mistakes you may have made. Going after Juulet was a foolhardy act, undertaken at my urging and under the auspices of my desire for revenge. It was arrogant and ill-advised and, more than once, you surely felt reservation about it though you were too much of a gentleman, too far caught up in the wake of my singleminded determination, to express such. I took advantage of that. I took advantage of you and used you for my ends. I am terribly sorry.

No matter what anybody says, you are a good person. I play at being one, but I am not. You're funny, clever, and decent-hearted beneath your veneer of roguishness. I know your truth. I, on the other hand, have become a soulless creature of greed and ambition that my mother would surely be ashamed of were she able to keep better tabs on me. I thought that I was smarter than everyone else. A few victories and near-victories had me looking down upon them. Perhaps such a humbling experience will change me, but I doubt it. One's nature is, to an extent, Dami's choice and hence immutable. 

I will be gone for quite some time. I remain uncertain as to when I'll be back or even [u]if[/u] I shall return. I love you, but I don't want you to wait for me. I know that you're in pain right now, but it will fade and you will be happy. This is, most of all, what I want. You deserve someone who can match the heart and soul you put into life, who can match you in mind, body, and spirit, and these are not things that I cannot do. Sail on, chin up. Live forever.

Love,

Your Marceline[/hider]

Her breath came heavy and shaken and she blinked a couple of times. Her elbows rested on the desktop and, dully, she placed the quill back into the inkpot. Unceremoniously, Marci brushed the back of her wrist across her eyes, shook her head as if to clear it, and caught her balance once more. She hurt. She hurt but she tuned it out, sitting here at this damned desk by this damned window gazing out at the narrow streets of Mudville outside. Two weeks, it had been, since she'd felt the wind in her hair or the sun unfiltered on her skin. Two weeks, she'd been an upper body unable to adequately move itself about the world. Only in the last three days had the cabal of Isabella, Jocasta, Luisa, Felix, and Yalen allowed her to stay in the former's apartment alone while they went about their errands. If they could do it, then surely she could! She breathed again, against the mounting frustration. She breathed again, to practice keeping her balance. She breathed again - though it was so musty in here - to feel everything she could of her body. Domino had returned to his bowl, but she had one last letter to write.

[hider=Dear Dorothea,]
I hope that this letter finds you well. I know that Manfred's passing was not easy for either of us, and I still think about him often. I am writing to you for two reasons. The first is to assure you of my continued regard and reassure you that my absence from the daily lives of friends and family such as yourself is not a permanent matter. As you know, Fiske and I sought our revenge on Juulet, the Mad Avatar, for the pain she caused me, you, him, and so many others. We wanted to rid the world of a tyrant and avenge Manfred. Instead, the gods saw fit to humble us for my arrogance. I am rather a 'true' tethered now, and shall remain so indefinitely. I am headed back to Torragon for some time to practice skills that I will need to learn and to acclimate to my new reality so that I might not be a burden upon my return.

This brings me to the second matter. Though I am clearly not equal to the task and have learned at great pains never again to fly too close to the sun, I believe with even greater certainty now that Juulet must be stopped. Her reign of terror needs to be checked by parties both powerful and determined before she can do further damage. You survived her the first time, and I find myself desirious of any insight you could offer on how one might do so. She has been telling the most vile of untruths, calling you murderer while trying to absolve herself. I find these attempts as farcical and pathetic as I'm sure most do, but they are backed up by the very real power and fear she commands, and you know what they say about a lie oft repeated. I had hoped to break her power but find that I have only burnished it. We need a coalition of the willing and the strong so that the threat she represents may finally be laid to rest, once and for all. If I am no longer fit to participate directly, at the very least, I shall offer everything else that I have.

Stay strong, Dorothea. Stay well. I very much hope that we shall speak upon my return.

In Solidarity,

Marceline Hohenfelter von Meckelin-Thandau[/hider][/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h3]No Apologies[/h3][/center]
[hider=Chapter Two]Five sealed letters lay on her desk, ready to be sent, and the feeling of accomplishment that came with their completion filled Marci with the ambition to do more. She glanced out the window. It wasn't so very far to the post office and she certainly knew nobody in Mudville anyhow. She would just be, to them, some tethered girl rolling down the street on a quick errand. Something electric filled her at the thought. Two weeks cooped up inside. She breathed once more. She could do this - in fact, she [i]needed[/i] to. She reached forward, snapped her wheelchair's brakes open, and backed up.

Then, it was was there, still on her lap. In truth, she'd forgotten all about the letter with the seal of House Hohenfelter. [color=598527][i]Shunedammit[/i][/color], Marceline cursed inwardly. It was already opened as well. All alone in this house save for Domino for perhaps another hour, the fifteen-year-old let out an audible groan. Why were they contacting her now? Had they somehow heard [i]already[/i] or was it about Manfred? Letters like this often took months of travel unless they were sent by dragon or by portal. Sitting there, a couple of feet from the desk, Marci prevaricated. Surely, they knew that she did not wish to be called by that forgotten name, and they had done it anyhow. She swallowed. [color=598527][i]Okay, fuck you. Nothing's gonna ruin this mood.[/i][/color] In one quick motion, she ripped the paper from the envelope, unfolded it, and read.

[hider=Dearest Nina,]
Your mother and I imagine that this correspondence might take some time to reach you, during which we hope that you will have had the opportunity to come to terms and make peace with the terrible loss that has befallen our family. Above all else, however, it has cast into stark relief the necessity of supporting one another amid the tumultuous sea that is life and death as the Gods will it. We are writing to offer our condolences and our support as parents and to reach out to you in the hopes that we might come together and be reconciled as your brother would've wanted. 

Manfred wrote to us often and he spoke with pride about the accomplished young woman you have become. That is something your mother and I would very much like to see for ourselves, for the mistakes of the past have kept us too long apart and it is high time that those are set right. Much as we must accept that Eschiran has seen fit to claim a son and a brother, we also take this as a call that we must not lose our only daughter as well. From your brother's letters, we were so very heartened to hear that you have found treatment for your affliction and, in your sixteenth year, walk among your peers as any other. The tethering is a terrible test and we thank Oratz that you have overcome it and remain in good health. To then learn from your brothers that your coffee business in Ersand'Enise is thriving has only added to our joy. You have had to make your own way and, having set your noble privilege aside, have ventured into the merchant's world and proven your abilities and pedigree.

You were born a Hohenfelter of Meckelin-Thandau and, by all accounts, you yet go by the name. If it is perilous, then it is also an exciting new world we live in during these years of Dami-Zept. The full support of your parents and our house is available to you, and many options for your future remain on the table and might be discussed when we meet. We shall be arriving this Velleß the 33rd, for the Ahn-Zept festival, and we heartily look forward to seeing you.

Your Father,

Reichsgraf Jurgen Hohenfelter von Meckelin-Thandau[/hider]

For a moment, Marceline merely sat there, stiller than she had been while reading the letter. She had reacted, of course, with all manner of expressions and more than one audible snort. Now, however, she was frozen, and remained so for a handful of seconds. Then, with a suddenness that surprised even Domino, she folded the letter, tucked it back into the envelope, and tossed it into the rubbish bin by the desk, nearly pitching over in the process. She caught herself with her arms, but had missed her shot. She regarded the fallen envelope for a moment, resolved to simply leave it there, and drummed nervously on her wheels.

Her ground octopus slid down the leg of the table to retrieve it and, at that, Marci's expression brightened as if getting an idea. She rolled forward a couple of pushes, plucked it from his tentacles, and resealed it carefully with binding. Pulling back up to her desk, Marceline reached inside and took out the precious red ink she'd had Jocasta bring from her quarters on the Godsroad. This, she dipped her dried quill into and, with it, she underlined the name 'Nina Hohenfelter' and wrote a new message upon the envelope: [color=ed1c24][i]Incorrect address. Return to Sender.[/i][/color] [color=598527][i]And now it appears I have [b]six[/b] letters to send: one for each of the gods plus another to make the Darhannics happy![/i][/color] She smiled, quite pleased with herself and, backing away from the desk, carefully set them upon her lap.[/hider] 
[hr][hr][center][h3]Foolhardy[/h3][/center]
[hider=Chapter Three]At first, it went well. If she wasn't quite brave enough to carry herself [i]in[/i] her wheelchair with telekinesis, Marci lifted off and floated to the bottom of the stairs before bringing it down after her and climbing in with the help of every ounce of upper body strength she had and (mostly) a healthy dose of kinetic magic. [color=598527][i]Gonna have arms like Mr. Secto in no time,[/i][/color] she thought ruefully, but then there was the door and, outside, lay the sidewalk and the rest of the world. [color=598527][i]Fuck it. You've come this far.[/i][/color] An electric sort of impulse took hold of her. [color=598527][i]You're gonna do it. It's not hard. You're gonna go outside on your own, and Jocasta's gonna pee herself out of surprise when she gets back.[/i][/color] The idea of buying some bananas from the fruit market occurred to her, for such was the girl's momentary excitement and confidence, but it evaporated as soon as she opened the door. 

Clumsily, she backed up, taking in the great blue sky before her, the step down to street level, and the miasma of smells, sights, and noises that made up a sidestreet in Fascino. For a moment, as she eased out of the doorway and onto the landing, she felt utterly inadequate to the task before her. [color=598527][i]It's a fucking quick walk over to the post office.[/i][/color] She shook her head to clear it, used some more telekinesis to shut the door, and considered the step. She'd watched her mother or Jocasta pop a wheelie more times than she could count, effortlessly hopping down a curb or single step, but Luisa and Isabella always turned around and went in reverse, doubling over to keep their weight forward. There was a quick flash of something unwanted in her head, but then she cleared it. [color=598527][i]This'll be automatic before long. Figure it out.[/i][/color] Marceline drew from her surroundings and simply lifted herself down with the Gift. 

Then, for the first time, she was there on the street, in an area of Mudville she half-knew. A handful of locals passed by, glancing her way until she glanced back. Children played at the mouth of a nearby alley. [color=598527][i]Right.[/i][/color] Marci looked up at the sky before twisting first one way and then the other. [color=598527]Left from here.[/color] Businesslike but eager, she set hands to wheels and... it was [i]impossible[/i]. The road was little more than hard-packed dirt and, if it was blessedly dry, it was terribly uneven. She couldn't go so much as a single normal, straight-line push without one of her wheels hitting some bump or divot or getting stuck in a groove. The wagon ruts were ferocious. For about a hundred yards, she laboured, as people went to and fro about their business, heads turning to regard her, sometimes leaning in to whisper to each other, before moving on. 

By the time that she had reached the Searoad and its wide, flat flagstones, Merceline's arms and shoulders were aching and every ounce of her earlier confidence had been siphoned. Here, there were hundreds: people, carts, horses and wagons: a chaos she hadn't even considered before. All about were the tents and hovels of the refugees, in places nearly blocking sideroads and shop entrances. It was... left from here, and any thought of bananas had long since disappeared. Marceline waited for an opening, pushed forward, and inserted herself into the flow of pedestrian traffic. Even here, it was not easy going. She could see little amid the sea of torsos, and some people missed her entirely. The road was sloped towards the gutters and she felt herself inevitably slewing in their direction such that she had to correct every second or third push, unable to even find a regular rhythm. Every once in a while, there was a gap between flagstones that stopped her dead or twisted her about. Her stupid feet were all too happy to dive off of their footrest at the slightest provocation when this happened, of course. In short, Marci found herself a general hazard as people swirled around her, playing an impromptu game of 'avoid the cripple', except when they didn't and nearly ran into her.[/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h3]Samaritan[/h3][/center]
[hider=Chapter Four]Then, as she caught a good flat stretch of road and found herself considering trying to pass a cluster of slow-moving elders, she was there. The Fascino Postal Office perched to her left at the outer edge of the emporium that gave the suburb its name. Marceline came to a stop, turned, and glanced down at her lap, alarmed for a second to see the letters gone before remembering that she had tucked them into the rucksack hanging off the back of her chair. There was one step up and she gathered herself for it, deciding to simply use the Gift to boost her over. That was when she felt a hand take hold of one of her wheels. [color=F5ECCE]"Oh! Girl!"[/color] offered a yasoi man, [color=F5ECCE]"I help you. Okay?"[/color] She hadn't [i]asked[/i] for the help and was loath to take it, but then his other hand was on her other wheel. [color=598527]"I'm uh... quite okay!"[/color] she insisted, but he seemed both confused and implacable. [color=F5ECCE]"I help. No pay."[/color] As if she [i]ever[/i] would've paid him for something she could manage herself! 

Marci was about to protest further when he shot her the most pleading look and his eyes flicked ever so quickly over his shoulder to a trio of rough-looking characters waiting at the mouth of a sideroad across the street. All three were yasoi: one, a man with bright red hair and a twitchiness to him, the second a woman with black hair, sharp features, and the air of a leader, and the third a young man, enormous in every way possible. [color=598527]"Well, if I don't have to pay, then I won't say no,"[/color] the tethered replied, hardly missing a beat. There was a mystery to be solved here and she wanted to solve it but, for now, she managed to get her front wheels up in a momentary wheely, and he pushed her up the step, rushing awkwardly around her to get the door. [color=598527]"Thank you kindly,"[/color] she offered, rolling into the small office and keeping one hand on a wheel while twisting to retrieve the letters and her coinpurse from her bag. 

[color=F5ECCE]"Oh, six?"[/color] he asked, and she looked up at him. [color=598527]"Yes. Lots of correspondence to catch up on."[/color] 

[color=F5ECCE]"Busy life."[/color]

She pursed her lips, nodded, and made a noise of agreement, wheeling up to the end of the line. [color=598527]"So,"[/color] she began, [color=598527]"What's happening with those three?"[/color] She tilted her head in the direction where they had been and surreptitiously reached out with her senses, getting a read on the big one before picking out the other two in the energetic noise of the street. They appeared to be huddling close, possibly talking.

Her unwanted 'helper' tilted his head quizzically and she took notice that he was a bloodchild. [color=F5ECCE]"Sorry. Not know."[/color]

The clerk finished with one customer and Marci moved up a bit, grateful for the smooth, flat wooden floor. She considered. [color=598527]"Three bad people,"[/color] she tried, and he narrowed his eyes before nodding in tentative understanding. [color=598527]"Why?"[/color]

His eyes widened and he nodded more fully. [color=F5ECCE]"They say give money."[/color] He rubbed his fingers together in the universal gesture for cash. [color=F5ECCE]"Small money."[/color] He shook his head and gestured adamantly at himself. [color=F5ECCE]"I okay give."[/color]

[color=598527][i]Loansharks,[/i][/color] Marci decided, [color=598527][i]or something like it.[/i][/color]

[color=F5ECCE]"They tell more money. More give."[/color] He looked distressed and Marci pursed her lips. She could sense his shadowy pursuers moving but, then, more importantly, the line moved. [color=598527]"And they hurt you?"[/color] she asked, trying to speak slowly and clearly. She pounded her palm with her fist for emphasis and just barely caught her balance. For a moment, the yasoi's eyes seemed to evaluate her, but then he answered. [color=F5ECCE]"Yes. Very hurt. They get me. They break."[/color] he made a 'breaking' gesture with his hands.

[color=598527]"They do this to many people?"[/color]

He nodded eagerly. [color=F5ECCE]"Many! Much time."[/color] He shook his head. [color=F5ECCE]"Cola Brother."[/color]

[color=598527]"What's your name?"[/color] Marci asked.

[color=F5ECCE]"I Vanin."[/color] He tapped his chest proudly. [color=F5ECCE]"Come Tanso but Tarlonsoi break Tanso. Come here."[/color]

She nodded. [color=598527]"I'm sorry,"[/color] the teen replied, grabbing hold of her wheels absently. [color=598527]"I understand losing a home."[/color]

He nodded slowly, partially understanding, and Marceline glanced up at the counter, where an old woman who had shot Vanin a couple of dirty looks earlier was taking unusually long. [color=598527]"Say, Vanin, will the Cola Brothers come and break me if I help you?"[/color] 

He concentrated on her words for a moment and, deciphering them, shook his head adamantly. [color=F5ECCE]"Oh no no no,"[/color] he promised. [color=F5ECCE]"You no live here. You Ersand'Enise. Tether."[/color] Up ahead, the old bat was finally almost done, counting her change before leaving. [color=F5ECCE]"They... scare you."[/color] He scowled. [color=F5ECCE]"Scare to you."[/color]

[color=598527]"Scared of me?"[/color]

He nodded. [color=F5ECCE]"No... hurt Ersand'Enise'soi. Big Eloam'soi come. Hurt he."[/color]

The old woman shuffled off and, gratefully, Marceline rolled up to the counter. Only her head and shoulders were really above it, but there was no missing the wary look sent in Vanin's direction. [color=598527]"Good afternoon, sir!"[/color] the girl chirped. [color=598527]"He's with me."[/color]

The clerk nodded, gesturing with a pencil. [color=00aeef]"Usually, we don't serve their kind in here."[/color] It was a refrain she'd heard more times than she cared to count, especially back in Kerremand, where such sentiment ran high. Certainly, Marci could understand it - Constantian Yasoi were simply more likely to commit crimes - but she had always believed in judging a person's worth based on merit and competence, two factors which she was no longer certain that [i]she[/i] possessed. The teen pursed her lips. [color=598527]"Well, for what it's worth, it's [i]me[/i] you'll be serving."[/color] She jerked a thumb in Vanin's direction. [color=598527]"He helps me with things."[/color] She sighed and glanced down at her lap. [color=598527]"I'm sure you understand."[/color] If life had dealt her the cripple card, Marci was ill-disposed to ignore whatever silver lining it might hold. She would play it for all it was worth. She smiled uncertainly and coaxed some blush in her cheeks. 

[color=00aeef]"Right, erm... yes. Well, I see no problem, as long as he keeps to himself."[/color]

[color=598527]"Very good. Now, I have six pieces here."[/color] She handed them over one by one. [color=598527]"And postage fee..."[/color] she opened her coinpurse and took out a handful of Owls, practically [i]feeling[/i] Vanin's eyes snap to it. She glanced back his way and, ashamed, he quickly looked away. [color=598527][i]This was never going to be free,[/i][/color] she realized, [color=598527][i]else you'd prick my conscience with every fibre of your sad story.[/i][/color] She wasn't categorically opposed to helping him out, however, so long as he earned it.

Business was conducted quickly, with a minimum of fuss and smalltalk, and only a couple of people appeared behind Marceline in line, their glances split between the girl in the wheelchair and the yasoi refugee who should not have been in here. She shelled out for dragon postage on the one to Méatu. Her friends were too close and the Hohenfelters not worth it. Then, she was finished and, taking back the coinpurse, she tucked it firmly under her legs. [color=598527]"Well, Vanin,"[/color] she declared, making for the doorway, [color=598527]"Looks like those Cola thugs are gone."[/color]

He regarded her quizzically and she realized that any form of wit or colloquial speech would be wasted. [color=598527]"Colas gone. You are safe."[/color]

[color=F5ECCE]"Ah!"[/color] he exclaimed, rushing ahead of her to open the door, [color=F5ECCE]"Cola. Yes. Safe."[/color] She rolled through and reached out to hold it for him as he squeezed around her on the landing. [color=F5ECCE]"Qitoip! Thank you!"[/color] He bowed slightly as she caught herself by grabbing a wheel and nearly smacked into his shins. [color=598527]"Well, I'm... go home now,"[/color] she said, trying to enunciate everything. In truth, the prospect was daunting and she would be relieved just to roll through the doorway. Jocasta would probably be along at anytime and they could eat dinner. Marceline had resolved to ask her about further temporal training. It was the only thing of interest she'd done in the past week and, counter to what many held, it had proven reasonably intuitive. [color=598527]"Thank [i]you[/i],"[/color] she added. Vanin pursed his lips, scampering ahead of her as Marci decided to try reversing down the step Isabella's way. With only a bit of trepidation, she backed slowly up as a couple of passersby rubbernecked to watch. 

It was so quick - [i]too[/i] quick! Her wheels went off the step and, the next thing that Marci knew, she was pitching backwards. Then, she stopped, Vani's hand on her back. Marci's own shot out, gripping his shirt and, with the help of a small kinetic boost, pulling herself up. His other hand, which she imagined had grabbed her wheelchair near the front, retreated. Heart hammering, she heaved a couple of breaths. [color=598527]"Thank you,"[/color] she panted, [color=598527]"Sorry."[/color] 

[color=F5ECCE]"Okay!"[/color] he assured her, backing away. [color=F5ECCE]"No worry."[/color]

Marci smiled in thanks and settled her left foot, which had gone rogue, back onto the footrest. She pushed herself up on her arms to readjust her sitting position as he bowed and started fading into the crowd. Indeed, she now began to feel the prick of her conscience as she'd predicted she might. He'd saved her considerable embarrassment and she'd given him nothing but a momentary respite from those gangsters. [color=598527]"Hey!"[/color] she called, wheeling into the thick of the traffic, [color=598527]"How about you help me out for a bit longer -"[/color] He was already at the other side of the street, waving goodbye. [color=598527]"- and we'll forget the part about doing it for free!"[/color] Once again, she had forgotten, and she rolled forward, having to pause for a large wagon to go by. [color=598527]"You help more,"[/color] she practically shouted, [color=598527]"I give money. Okay?"[/color] Now, he was out of sight and she searched with her energy sense. He was running. Marci's stomach crystallized and she reached under her legs: nothing. [color=598527][i]FUCK![/i][/color] She made it to the far side, pushed her way into an alcove, and lifted herself clean out of her wheelchair with the Gift. The coinpurse and the three magus it contained were gone. [color=598527][i]Idiot![/i][/color] she berated herself. Had she become feeble of mind as [i]well[/i] as body?

Instinctively, she turned to hurry down the sideroad where Vanin - if that was even his true name - had vanished, tracking him with her energy sense while drawing liberally from the surrounding motion to boost her speed. The futility of such an effort became clear after only seconds. Even with magic, the rate at which he outpaced her was incredible and - one of her front caster wheels went straight into a divot and she pitched forward and hit the dirt. People around her stopped. A few gasped. Then, most started moving, leaning in and murmuring to each other, while a couple rushed over to help her up. Rudely, Marci waved them off. She flipped her wheelchair back upright with the Gift and lifted herself into it the same way. She'd done the same thing that she usually did: enhance her speed with siphoned kinetic energy and split her attention between movement and tracking. Angrily, Marci whirled on the spot. She'd lost him now: just one of hundreds of moving energy signatures, and he'd evidently stopped running, wherever he was. Not even caring to look if one of her feet had slipped free of the footrest, she pushed herself back onto the Searoad. She wasn't sure when the tears came, but they did. She didn't care if these strangers stared at her: the crying girl in the wheelchair. Soon, she'd be far away in Torragon and she might never come back. If she did, she'd learned her lesson: [color=598527][i]Unless your name is Jocasta Re, you're not a physical actor as a tethered. You just aren't.[/i][/color] She knew what she should've done: she should've stayed put, taken him out from a distance, and then caught up at her leisure, but she'd become so used to having all the benefits of the tethering with none of the drawbacks. How she missed being fast! How she missed being able to [i]do[/i] things! It was all so hard! It had to get easier, [i]right!?[/i][/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h3]Cookie[/h3][/center]
[hider=Chapter Five]Numbly, Marci rolled back to the entrance of Isabella's apartment, making a sort of game of assiduously avoiding obstacles - even the ones that looked small. She found Jocasta waiting at the foot of the stairs, eating a cookie, a small bag on her lap. [color=ffdead]"Not a banner day, huh?"[/color] she asked, and her younger counterpart, hair sweaty and dishevelled, snot dribbling from her nose, dried tears staining her cheeks, let out a snort. It turned into an ironic laugh. [color=598527]"I've had worse,"[/color] she replied. [color=598527]"Three, to be exact."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"I don't suppose a cookie would help?"[/color] Jocasta offered, reaching into the small bag. 

[color=598527]"Can it make me walk?"[/color]

The older tethered smiled, half in jest and half in sombre support. [color=ffdead]"Only if you're more special than me,"[/color] she replied, brandishing her half-eaten sweet.

[color=598527]"Worth a shot."[/color]

Jocasta waved Marci in with her hands, and the younger girl remembered how to hug in a wheelchair, turning at the last second to be at a slight angle so they could reach each other. She squeezed Jocasta perhaps harder than she should've and found herself wishing, in some forbidden place, that she was hugging Zarina instead. [color=ffdead]"Hey kiddo."[/color] The senior tethered spoke into her shoulder. [color=ffdead]"You didn't do bad today."[/color]

[color=598527]"Fuck sake, Jo. At least don't lie to me,"[/color] Marci murmured into her shoulder.

Jocasta pushed herself back a little to provide some separation. [color=ffdead]"I mean, I take it something bad happened, but you went out on your own for almost an hour."[/color]

[color=598527]"I got robbed,"[/color] Marci groaned, deflating. [color=598527]"Three magus."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Welcome to Belleville. You're officially a citizen."[/color]

Marci tried to laugh at the joke. It was true. This place was a dump. She couldn't, though. [color=598527]"But I got targeted in the first place because..."[/color] she trailed off, looking down at her legs and wrinkling her nose in disgust. She smacked the tops of her thighs. [color=598527]"This fucking bullshit."[/color] She shook her head. [color=598527]"And I couldn't even [i]do[/i] anything! I mean, he just got away with it! The old me would've -"[/color]

Jocasta held a hand up to forestall further comment. [color=ffdead]"There's no 'old' you and 'new' you,"[/color] she counselled firmly. [color=ffdead]"It's just [i]you,[/i] Marce."[/color] She shook her head. [color=ffdead]"The same smart, inventive, secretly really caring little bugger I've known for far too long."[/color] She squeezed the girl's shoulder. [color=ffdead]"But your paradigm's paraplegic now and you have to train your mind and - yes - even your body, because it's not useless even if it's changed, to go about things differently."[/color] She thrust the cookie into Marci's hands. [color=ffdead]"Here. Nibble. It's good and you're hungry."[/color]

[color=598527]"Thanks, mom."[/color]

Jocasta sighed. [color=ffdead]"Wanna go for a little walk?"[/color] She tilted her head in the other direction where Marceline hadn't been. [color=ffdead]"We can talk."[/color]

[color=598527]"Walk?"[/color] Marci challenged.

[color=ffdead]"Same shit, and saying 'roll' just doesn't have the same ring to it."[/color]

[color=598527]"It's just so [i]tiring[/i]."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"I bet, but didn't it feel [i]good[/i] to be outside, to [i]move[/i] a bit again, until things went wrong?"[/color]

It was Marci's turn to sigh. [color=598527]"Sure. I'll go for a roll."[/color]

Jocasta snorted and turned halfway, giving her younger counterpart a warm smile. [color=ffdead]"You know, it only gets easier. I [i]do[/i] promise that, and you were doing things right on your way back, at least when I saw you."[/color]

[color=598527]"What? Wheeling along with my head down, staring at the ground like some kind of troglodyte?"[/color] She came up beside Jocasta, mimicking the act in an exaggerated manner, but the older girl just kind of shrugged. [color=ffdead]"It becomes sort of automatic after a while, like muscle memory."[/color] She shrugged, pulling ahead again, and glanced back and to the side. [color=ffdead]"You do a quick scan of the ground every five or so pushes and you just develop a sense for it."[/color]

[color=598527]"No way I can just skip to that point, huh?"[/color]

Jocasta glanced back, offered an apologetic smile, and shook her head. Marci pushed harder, endeavouring to catch up, and she pulled up beside her friend. [color=598527]"And I know I should've used my tethered range and taken the thief out first before trying to catch him. It was just instinct. It's like I have to... completely reset it. You know?"[/color]

Rolling along leisurely, Jocasta looked her way. She could see the other tethered's eyes quickly flick towards the ground first, doing that check she had told Marci would become automatic. The younger girl made a point of following suit. [color=ffdead]"That's [i]exactly[/i] what you have to do,"[/color] the blonde allowed, nodding slowly. [color=ffdead]"All of it - all the walking stuff - has to go out the window. Retrain everything. Retrain how you think of yourself, the world around you, and how you interact with it."[/color] Jocasta slowed for a moment and brushed some crumbs off of her lap as she waited for Marci, who had swerved around some wagon grooves. 

The younger tethered considered, furrowing her brow. [color=598527]"That's good advice and I'll take it coming from you, but..."[/color] She grimaced. [color=ffdead]"It sounds like a ton,"[/color] Jocasta interjected, [color=ffdead]"right?"[/color]

Marci nodded. [color=598527]"Yeah, kinda,"[/color] she squeaked, coming to a stop. [color=598527]"I wanna believe I can do it. I wanna believe I can just feel like... [i]me[/i] again, but it's this huge mountain and I don't know how to climb."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"One step at a time,"[/color] Jocasta advised, swivelling around to face her, [color=ffdead]"trite as that sounds."[/color]

Marci rolled her eyes. [color=598527]"And there's [i]another[/i] idiom about walking."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"You get used to it,"[/color] came the reply, as the older girl took a moment to push herself up on her hands and sort of hang there for a moment. 

[color=598527]"That thing you're doing,"[/color] Marci queried, [color=598527]"That's not just to change your sitting position, is it?"[/color] Jocasta shook her head. [color=ffdead]"Ooh boy."[/color] She let out a low whistle. [color=ffdead]"You haven't learned about the fun fun fun that is pressure sores."[/color] She wriggled her eyebrows. [color=ffdead]"Good thing you're a binder,"[/color] she concluded, letting herself back down and taking a moment to shift her feet.

Alarm pulsed through the younger tethered. [color=598527]"I know about them!"[/color] she retorted. [color=598527]"My mom was always worried about them."[/color] She glanced down worriedly at herself. [color=598527]"Should I be doing that too?"[/color]

Jocasta pursed her lips and considered, setting hands to wheels to start moving again. [color=ffdead]"Not essential yet,"[/color] she allowed, [color=ffdead]"but you should probably start building the habit."[/color] Marci followed, starting to feel the burn of tired muscles again. [color=ffdead]"You've still got plenty of meat on your legs,"[/color] she continued, reaching over and squeezing a thigh. [color=ffdead]"Nice big hammies here."[/color] She patted it a couple times and pulled back, having skewed a bit close to her younger friend. She brushed some hair from her face. [color=ffdead]"Only really becomes an issue once they wither and get all skinny from lack of use. Your bones will punch right through the bottom if you don't relieve the weight once in a while."[/color]

Marceline looked down in horror at her legs and Jocasta grimaced. [color=ffdead]"Maybe a bit much for a beginner-level course?"[/color]

The former bit her lower lip nervously. [color=598527]"Now you've got me living in fear of becoming a skeleton."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Sorry, Marce."[/color] Jocasta offered, before waving the rest off. [color=ffdead]"Won't be an issue for like... months, and you're a good binder anyhow."[/color] She shook her head. [color=ffdead]"Shouldn't be a problem as long as you check regularly and don't do anything dumb."[/color]

Marci breathed in and out and forced something like a reassured smile. [color=598527]"Right, well, that's... comforting."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Just gotta roll with it, you know?"[/color]

[color=598527]"Finally, some accessible idioms."[/color]

Jocasta grinned and let out a snort. [color=ffdead]"You know, I'm gonna start paying more attention to that stuff now."[/color]

[color=598527]"Baby steps,"[/color] Marci replied jokingly. 

[color=ffdead]"You're a magnificent little bitch, you know that?"[/color]

Marci let herself coast for a minute, eyes flicking at the ground to ensure it was safe. She raised her hands in a little heart-shape. [color=598527]"Aren't I, though?"[/color] She batted her eyelashes.[/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h3]Accessible[/h3][/center] 
[hider=Chapter Six]Jocasta rolled her eyes and the two of them continued on in easy silence for the next minute or so. Above them, the sky was blue, birds perched on rooftops and laundry lines, chirping, and children played at the mouth of an alleyway. It struck Marceline, then, how [i]good[/i] this moment was but, hot on its heels - another walking idiom - came the realization that it would've been even better with Zarina: the missing third member of their trio, and - hell - with Ayla, too! How much Marci missed just hanging out with them, eating those 'family' dinners in the dining room on Taldes evenings, doing homework - and inevitably goofing off - in the study well into the hours of Dami and even Ipte, playing cards or chess in the drawing room with a bit too much wine and Kaureerah's idle strumming as accompaniment. [color=598527][i]"Ipté!"[/i][/color] she sighed, grabbing hold of her wheels and skidding most dramatically to a stop. [color=598527]"I've been just horrid."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Oh Gods, no,"[/color] groaned Jocasta. [color=ffdead]"Not another bout of self-loathing, [i]please[/i]."[/color]

[color=598527]"[i]Easy[/i]. Don't get your knickers in a knot, bruja."[/color] Marci rolled her eyes, turning about. [color=598527]"It's just coming to me that I've given almost no consideration to my literal best friend in the world."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Yes, I was wondering when you might remember me."[/color]

[color=598527]"Oh fuck off. I love you."[/color] Marci swept some hair from her face and took a bite of the half-eaten cookie that had existed in purgatory on her lap for the past twenty minutes. [color=598527]"Iss Zawina,"[/color] she grunted between chews, brandishing the sweet as if to add emphasis. [color=598527]"I fuckin' wuv hew."[/color] Presently, the fifteen-year-old swallowed. [color=598527]"And I miss her and I've been oh-so pigheaded because I didn't want her to see me at my worst."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"I mean, I'd argue you're -"[/color]

Marci glared daggers and Jocasta grinned, taking a couple of aimless pushes out of some sense of restless inertia. [color=ffdead]"But are you, still, in seriousness?"[/color]

The the younger girl took and released her umpteenth considered breath of the day and shrugged. [color=598527]"I'm good right now,"[/color] she admitted, [color=598527]"borderline great, which kind of proves the whole idea that I need to surround myself with people I care about."[/color]

Jocasta smiled, genuinely and without a hint of teasing or playful malice. [color=ffdead]"Good. [i]Good![/i] Thank Ipté."[/color]

[color=598527]"But then who knows,"[/color] Marceline admitted. [color=598527]"I'm up and down these days, though I think I need to get out more and that'll help."[/color] She looked about and pursed her lips. [color=598527]"'Cause then'll come the next time I need to go to the privy and that'll send me into another tailspin because I can't fuckin' [i]pee[/i] like a normal person, Eshi forbid doing [i]more[/i] than that."[/color]

The older tethered grimaced knowingly. [color=ffdead]"It gets better,"[/color] she offered, [color=ffdead]"And you'll learn stuff back at that place."[/color]

[color=598527]"Or then I'll hit some crack or bump and faceplant,"[/color] Marci continued, [color=598527]"Or get fed up with pity glances and 'poor thing' murmurs."[/color] She sighed. [color=598527]"Or it might just be nothing at all more than my regularly scheduled daily bout of self-pity and hatred."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Sooo..."[/color] Jocasta trailed off. [color=ffdead]"That's a 'not ready', then?"[/color]

Marci wobbled her palm in a gesture of uncertainty. [color=598527]"It's a hot and cold,"[/color] she admitted. [color=598527]"I wanna just launch right back in and move on and get to the point where I'm a happy little cripple going about my life with friends and loved ones, but I feel like I have [i]so[/i] much I need to work on and I should set some time aside to work on it."[/color]

Jocasta, busy absently dribbling a rock with her front casters, looked up and nodded crisply. [color=ffdead]"Yeah,"[/color] she agreed, [color=ffdead]"If you want me to be honest, I think your assessment is spot on."[/color] She continued nodding, absently, pensively, and her eyes darted to the road they'd been heading down for the past little while. [color=ffdead]"You know how I feel about that place,"[/color] she admitted. [color=598527][i]I do,[/i][/color] thought Marci. [color=598527][i]You can't even bring yourself to say its name or what it is.[/i][/color] There were times when she just wanted to [i]hug[/i] Jocasta, to heal those wounds that she knew lay deep in her quasi-sister's psyche, but it also felt ridiculous at the moment. Marci was the one in need of help right now. She would have to extricate herself from this pit she was in if she ever wanted to put herself in a position to help others again. [color=ffdead]"But it'll do you good,"[/color] her senior was saying. [color=ffdead]"Your mom, Oscar, Laëlle, Ricardo, and the older tethered: they're good people and they'll put you through the crash course you need."[/color]

Marceline nodded and swallowed. [color=598527]"I know,"[/color] she admitted. [color=598527]"I know, and I'm starting to actually really look forward to it."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Good,"[/color] came the reply.

[color=598527]"But, speaking of courses -"[/color]

[color=ffdead]"I've got the whole package: already dropped off at home."[/color] Jocasta paused. [color=ffdead]"Well, 'home'",[/color] she amended, adding airquotes with her hands. 

[color=598527]"And I can hand them in at the end of the semester?"[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Long as you hand them in before the next semester starts, and not like... the day before."[/color]

Marci nodded. [color=598527]"I will. I promise."[/color] It would be okay. It would [i]all[/i] be okay. She simply had tasks to do and she would do them, as she always had. [color=598527]"Thank you."[/color] She swallowed and smiled brightly, glancing up at the sky in relief. [color=598527]"[i]Dami.[/i] I feel like it's actually achievable, like it can all be done."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Watch you get a forty-nine on your final."[/color]

Marci cracked up. [color=598527]"Oh my Shune,"[/color] she laughed, [color=598527]"Like that one guy that time. It was Niallus, right?"[/color]

Jocasta grimaced amid her laughter. [color=ffdead]"I think so! The big Eskandish boy toy."[/color]

The younger girl pursed her lips exaggeratedly. [color=598527]"Aren't they [i]all[/i], pretty much?"[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Good point,"[/color] her senior allowed.[/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h3]Jutsu[/h3][/center]
[hider=Chapter Seven][color=598527]"Anyway,"[/color] Marci released a last, mirthful breath and absently dusted some crumbs off of her lap. [color=598527]"I was also hoping you had more on temporal that you could teach me, or at least some more books and instructions, like exercises and stuff?"[/color]

Jocasta's face became concerned. 

[color=598527]"Oh, don't gimme that look."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"It's playing with fire, Marce."[/color]

[color=598527]"Technically, that's pyromancy."[/color]

Jocasta wasn't smiling. [color=ffdead]"Are you gonna take this seriously?"[/color]

The younger girl recentered herself and nodded meekly. [color=598527]"Sorry."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Temporal magic is powerful."[/color]

[color=598527]"That's why I need it."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"It's not a plaything."[/color]

[color=598527]"I don't wanna play with it. I wanna protect myself and the people I care about."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"You're not a little baby seven-point-one anymore. You're an eight-point-three tethered. Your actions have consequences."[/color]

Marci glanced down at her lap in pointed annoyance. [color=598527]"As I well know,"[/color] she countered, and Jocasta softened somewhat. [i]Everybody[/i] had a button that could be pushed, and much as she loved Jocasta - truly - like a sister, Marceline would not hesitate to push it as many times as she needed to get herself this. All of the monsters, all of the tyrants, and all of the heroes who stood up to them had it, and she would be at their mercy if she didn't. She didn't need to be a hero. She just wouldn't let herself become either of the other two. [color=ffdead]"Sorry, kiddo,"[/color] the older tethered offered, perhaps knowing how it bothered her, [color=ffdead]"I don't mean to be harsh, but I can't have you fucking around with this stuff and causing aberrations and bringing down Knowers left, right, and center."[/color]

Marceline nodded. [color=598527]"No, you're right. I understand."[/color] She threaded and unthreaded her fingers, glancing down at them and then back up. [color=598527]"I have zero intention of using my magic stupidly or for personal gain to the detriment of others. I just... need to have it in my back pocket, you know?"[/color]

Jocasta seemed to study her for a moment, and Marci met her gaze evenly. At times like these, she seemed more a teacher than a friend or sister figure. [color=ffdead]"Mkay,"[/color] the older tethered decided. [color=ffdead]"I've got some things for you for when we get back."[/color] She nodded slowly, as if digesting it. [color=ffdead]"Techniques I've only really taught Zarina."[/color]

Marci glanced in a random direction, into the distance, before reaching out with her senses and working her way to the Godsroad. Part of her lit up with nervous excitement at the prospect of her [i]other[/i] sister figure being home and the two of them meeting up before she went to Torragon, but it was not to be. She'd recognize Zarina by energy from eight kilometers away. [color=598527]"She's not home, by the way,"[/color] the younger teen offered, [color=598527]"So it looks like you won't be pulling my carcass along across the city today."[/color] She sighed. [color=598527]"I wish I hadn't gone all hermit. Like... wouldn't it be poetic if something happened to her instead of me and then I never got to -"[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Stop,"[/color] Jocasta cut in. [color=ffdead]"Stop worrying."[/color] She came up at an angle and grasped Marci's shoulders. Absently, the latter realized that she was taller than her friend. It had never been a fair measurement before. [color=ffdead]"She's strong. She's no dummy. She's just killing some oversized lobster and, to my understanding, Ayla and Penny are both there too."[/color] She squeezed gently and Marci breathed. [color=598527]"You're right."[/color] She nodded, trying to convince herself. [color=598527]"But I should be there!"[/color] she protested. [color=598527]"We always have each other's backs and if something - "[/color]

[color=ffdead]"It won't,"[/color] Jocasta said, cutting her off firmly, [color=ffdead]"and, if she [i]does[/i] get overpowered, you can be sure there wasn't a damned thing [i]you[/i] could've done about it if you were there."[/color]

Marci regarded her dubiously. [color=598527]"Are there any tethered on that crew?"[/color]

Jocasta furrowed her brow for a moment, thinking. She bit her lip by way of response. Marceline tilted her head and raised her brows knowingly. [color=ffdead]"Okay, it's also a city built into the seaside mountains,"[/color] the former admonished. [color=ffdead]"You wanna wheel your ass around there for however many days?"[/color] She shook her head. [color=ffdead]"You're already huffing and puffing after an hour and a half on level ground."[/color]

[color=598527]"Hardly what I'd call level."[/color] Marci rolled her eyes, setting hands to wheels and pointedly butting her casters up against a rut. She glanced up at her counterpart.

[color=ffdead]"Lotta places, this passes as 'better than average',"[/color] Jocasta warned. [color=ffdead]"That's why you need the secret cripple no jutsu you'll learn in Torragon. You are [i]far[/i] from being able to cope as you are now, lil' brandæble."[/color] 

Marci glared again. [color=598527]"What the hell is 'no jutsu'?"[/color]

Jocasta grinned and paired it with a shrug. [color=ffdead]"Nikanese. Basically like a technique."[/color] She circled around the younger girl. [color=ffdead]"So, since we're not going on an adventure right now, back to the castle?"[/color] Already, she was wheeling ahead.

Marceline nodded, but then pulled up short and grimaced. [color=598527]"Guess so, yeah."[/color] She rolled her neck and rubbed at it. [color=598527]"I'm just so fucking sore: my neck, my hands, my back... Can we take it easy?"[/color]

Jocasta circled back until they were beside each other. She leaned over and patted Marceline on the back, giving her shoulder a squeeze. [color=ffdead]"Come on, suunei. You've only got a few hours left here and I wanna make you a nice dinner. We'll grab Yalen and Isabella too."[/color]

[color=598527]"Who's cookin'?"[/color] Marci inquired, [color=598527]"You or the manwife?"[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Oh hoo hoooo, you little shit. Got a spicy tongue on you today, dontcha?"[/color]

[color=598527]"I'm supposedly a brandæble."[/color]

[color=ffdead]"S'pose I answered 'Domino,"[/color] Jocasta countered, and it took the younger tethered a moment to grasp her meaning. [color=598527]"I'd cry,"[/color] Marci replied and, after a snort, that seemed to take the wind from Jocasta's joke. [color=ffdead]"Yes,"[/color] she answered belatedly, [color=ffdead]"the plan is to have Yalen cook."[/color]

[color=598527]"Oh happy day!"[/color]

[color=ffdead]"Unless I get home before you."[/color]

[color=598527]"Oh you fucking..."[/color]

Jocasta was already racing out ahead.

[color=598527]"I'm too slow!"[/color] wailed Marci, endeavouring to catch up. 

[color=ffdead]"Your cripple no jutsu is soft and weak!"[/color] the senior tethered called over her shoulder, smile devilish.

[color=598527]"I'll fuckin' show [i]you[/i] cripple no jutsu. Wait'll I catch up and break your legs!"[/color][/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h3]Home[/h3][/center]
[hider=Chapter Eight]In the end, Jocasta won. She took mercy on her defeated opponent mostly thanks to Domino deciding to cuddle with her once she was home. Before long, Yalen arrived, and Isabella appeared shortly thereafter. There was a sense of nervous anticipation in the air as they talked, they laughed, and they ate. It felt good - almost like Marci's real house and her real substitute family - but she could not stop thinking of Zarina, of Ayla, even of Ashon, Kaureerah, and Penny. Before the sun set, the young tethered found a few minutes to pack her better clothes, some essentials, and a small mountain of books. It wasn't enough. She was slow, even with basic tasks, and it only cast into starker relief how badly she needed to return to the motherland and learn. Isabella came over to help and, soon, it was a group effort. Domino's tub was temporarily emptied once he'd hydrated, and he clung to the bottom of Marci's wheelchair as had become his habit of late. She wished he'd have picked a spot that didn't leave her constantly worried that she'd run over a tentacle, but he was an idiosyncratic little fellow, and there was no un-convincing him once he'd made up his mind.

[color=ffdead]"Come here,"[/color] ordered Jocasta, as the air began to hum with still-gathering temporal energies. [color=ffdead]"I won't get to hug you once I'm busy ripping up space and time."[/color] They came together at that slight angle that Marci had learned, and it was one last hug in the series: one that she should've shared with her housemates, too. [color=ffdead]"I love you, lil' brandæble, okay?"[/color]

Marceline did not begrudge her the hated nickname this time. [color=598527]"I love you too,"[/color] she murmured into Jocasta's shoulder, probably drooling slightly on it. They released each other with one final squeeze, the senior of the two backing up and the magical hum intensifying. Isabella rolled up and dropped a stack of bound books on her lap, exchanging a quick hug and an admonishment not to dress like a bum while she was away. Yalen bent over and embraced her as well, settling a second set of books carefully atop the first. He held onto the ground octopus' tub a little bit longer, and Marci felt like nothing so much as a great, cumbersome, overloaded human shopping cart. The air began to swirl and, moments later, there was a hole in reality connecting the living room of Isabella's spare apartment to the courtyard of San Agustin de las Arenas. Marci took a deep breath, balancing the items on her lap with both her chin and some kinetic magic, and strained her arms as she pushed off. Expertly, Yalen threw the copper tub like a discus, and it sailed through the portal. Marceline rolled forward, barely audible on the smooth parquet floors of the apartment. The air grew cool and dry and she could hear the crunch of dirt beneath her wheels. 

She was home.[/hider]
[hr][hr][center][h1]F I N[/h1][/center][/color]