Tatterdemalion

Monster Hearts: Sleepshy Rise

SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET
ABSOLUTELY FERAL

A beast makes its way through the woods. It sniffs at the wind. Whenever it notices something interesting, that is the whole world condensed to a single point. Russet ears twitch, the whole unseen world unfolded before them. The Forest is alive, alive, alive! When it comes upon the bones of a stag, it realizes at once that they are not stagnant, cast-off shells, but that they are being consumed and broken down to be remade in the nuclear furnace of a wolf’s womb or the incandescent workshops of a tree’s leaves spread to tear open rays of sunlight and pour them greedily down its branches, and that all life is a circle, life to death to life, and how selfish, how provincial of the underworlds to think that the careless cast-offs, the invisible soul, is anything more than a bit of dream and fluff that gets lost as the mushrooms turn meat to pulp and then are ground between the lips of those who graze upon them?

The beast throws back its head and screeches in delight. It flings itself headlong into jumping, scampering, cartwheeling, all its senses alive, lit from within by the fire of divine providence and inevitability. When it arrives at a stream it lowers itself to drink, and the cold sharp water is the best thing it has ever had. When a thing with a head like a snake and a belly full of baying hounds lurches beside her to drink, it offers the new guest scritchies and raspberries on its noisy tumtum. Then it wades into the water and lets the current wash its scent away, wash tomb-dust away, it scrubs at itself with its nails until it is fresh and clean and new.

It eats a really weird bug and doesn’t even care.

***

LATER

Time is nothing to a tree. This means that in sufficient quantities of trees, time goes quite queer. This is why people who live out in the woods are Like That.

An arm comes through the window. It is black with matted hair and mud, and its nails are long enough to scratch the wallpaper. The arm is connected to some sort of Woods Creature or Sasquatch with bright green eyes, which bounds in as if it owns the place, the ears on top of its head twitching. It sniffs the air.

It grins.

And it lunges at Sam like a wild beast, things like “this is a terrible idea” and “don’t I still have to get him to sign off on detention” completely forgotten. You’re stuck, vampire! Time to spin the wheel a little!!

Timmy, Annalee— do you recognize this wild, feral, Wood-mantled thing as Elodie? Don’t worry, either way, she’ll mostly be back to normal tomorrow. Probably. So feel free to just freak out and run for it.

[7 on Lashing Out; Thanqol gets to decide how bad the harm turns out.]

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

POTENTIAL 0

Wumph. That’s the overwhelming sound-sensation of a wing-harness’s gravs being activated for a chicken-hop, as practiced paratroopers call it. Sara soars up in an arc, sunlight cutting through the smoke to gleam on her shining stained-glass flight suit, her aviators cracked and her hair a frizzled mess. She doesn’t bother to show off. She’s hurting and furious (you used a child) and she’s focusing all of her power on one very specific point.

She twists her wrists in Command Mode, the safeties already shut down, and she rockets straight down at Maria, all of her weight and momentum brought to bear on her heel. This is going to hurt, but it’ll hurt Maria more. Probably.

Contact.

Pain ripples up @SARAHPHIM’s spine. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. If Maria had seen her coming, she would have set herself to Fortification and let @SARAHPHIM snap her leg on that invincible sternum like a twig. But she’s off-balance and has a brave Admiral clinging to her face. Everyone panics when their air supply is compromised.

She launches herself off Maria into a very challenging backflip, wing gravs having reset to Cruise due to the impact, and upside-down— as Maria topples like a hobbled Titan— she sends a shearing, dangerously high-powered scythe through Maria’s shoulder. It’s vicious and, if it had been aimed somewhere more vital, might have killed Maria outright. Tigers aren’t tame cats, after all, and that moment of raw but controlled viciousness is the kind of thing that makes her fans go wild.

But she didn’t do it to be vicious. Just the opposite.

She did it so that Amy Bentham’s skull didn’t hit the ground hard enough to risk killing her. Clutched tight to Maria’s side, she would have hit the ground with horrifying force, the weight of Maria bringing her straight down at high speed and the tight hold not allowing her to roll with the fall at all. Instead, she’s knocked aside, that arm still locked around her as she tumbles. She’ll be covered in soot when she gets up, but as the arm goes into power saving mode, she’ll be able to heave it off of her.

Sara lands hard and her leg gives out under her, leaving her in an awkward half sprawl. “Run, squirt! Go!” She glances over at Amy and sees a moment of hesitation, and grasps at straws. “I promise I’ll save the bear! Now fucking scram!”

There’s honest desperation in her voice as it cracks. It’s an Afraid Adult Voice, because she knows she only blew off one arm, needing to get it perfect to save the kid’s life. She did not eliminate the rifle.

She made her choice.

[9, but because I have Influence on Amy, that’s a 10. Clearing Angry.]

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

Lil’ Euphie!

Everything is finally making sense. For a little while there, you were worried you’d lost it! Your sense of self, shattered on the floor, reflecting shards of yourself. But it’s okay now. It’s all so bright and shiny! All you needed to do was fix all those pieces back together, and let your Euphie-ness fill in all the cracks!

So what if there’s another Euphie? You’re clearly the best one. Once you win, you will have proved it, and then you can switch places with yourself and next time you’ll be in charge of the maze and she’ll be the one winning the competition! It’s all so wonderful!

The world around you is plastic. Everything contains the seeds of being something else hidden in its heart! You have inside you the Shortcut to Art. With a glance and a wave of your hand, what once was solid warps and twists like molten glass to fit your vision! You are Creating! This is what it must have felt like for the devil-matrons when the world was freshly-baked and theirs to shape into form!!

Tch. Princesses. They’re still jealous of you, Euphie. Jealous of your vision. Except for delightful little Mittens! You love her so, so much! You can’t wait to take her on walkies, and give her ear scritches, and keep her so, so, so safe. You’d rather crack the world in half than see her hurt. You’ll keep her safe and yours forever and ever and ever...

***

Kathelia!

You adjust the Labazaar Quartz Telescope and bring the glass dragon into focus, and proceed to confirm one of your theories! This is so exciting! Like many species of butterfly, this dragon’s oversized, impractical eyes are actually a form of ocelli, or eyespots. Ocelli are commonly used for mimicry of a more dangerous predator or to draw attention away from vulnerable body parts, though some species use them for intraspecies communication and even courtship, such as the famous ocelli on a male peacock’s feathers. Instead, the visual organs of the glass dragon are hidden at the intersections of its scales, small hard coal-like eyes with many facets. This is so exciting, and might mean Eupheria has broken the record for most eyes on one animal! Of course, you already know the top ten animals with the most eyes.

It’ll be impossible to approach the dragon without waking it up unless you use invisibility, unless its eyes have special abilities? It’s entirely possible! If you can find several different invisibility methods, you could even do tests!

Moving on, you also note that there are gardeners tending to the flowers. They have the heads of lions, wings like bats, and the bodies of jocks. You take an instant dislike to them. Notably, several seem to be tending to a thick, thorned topiary statue of Argossa with a glowing red light at its crown, one that immediately strikes you as familiar. It’s one of Alina’s lights!

Weirdly, instead of complimenting you on your cleverness and analytical skills, Alina and Kyouko seem to be freaking out.

***

Mittens!

It’s time to goooooooo.

Momma waved her toy Caduceus at you, and maybe she can actually use it, maybe Eupheria’s playing along, but chain-trees and scarf-vines are bursting out of the ground in a grim and terrible forest all around you. Kyouko’s scream could shatter glass as she hops from foot to foot, her curse making her practically useless in the face of danger. Everyone knows cheerleaders need to be saved by heroic princesses, after all!

The way up the hill is becoming a very, very dangerous obstacle course, and that’s before you get to that glass wall. Your Momma opens a door in the side, and after she walks through... she closes it seamlessly.

Eep! That manacle nearly got you! Run!!

***

Adila I!

“You’re the secret master of the Watch?” The Jedadi Princess seems dumbstruck. “I... I thought you’d be taller,” she manages to say, lamely.

“Alina’s in danger?” The Iluminan is evidently Alina’s sister. The resemblance is obvious, though she seems, if anything, more hotheaded. She’s a danger. Eliminate her from the situation as early as possible.

The Rowani seems to be coolly evaluating you— a kindred spirit? Perhaps she could be trusted more than the rest. And then the small, mousy princess squeaks. “It’s not the glass snake!”

What?

Then the earth explodes and the Snake-Husband of Jedad rears up out of the ground with a terrible bellow.

Ah.

Well.

This is inconvenient.

Especially because the glass snake has been half-freed from the prison you painstakingly made for it, and is throwing itself furiously at the Snake-Husband. While this means they might neutralize each other, their flailing and laser eyes mean that you might be crushed by two hundred tons of stone or glass, squished into paste.

And... are they both writhing like they’re about to vomit?

Best to evacuate.

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

Jessamine!

You collapse into the grass, gasping. The fire protection charm boiled off you in the last stretch, and then there was nothing for it but forcing your way through. The heat stole the air from your chest, made you squeeze your eyes shut and grope blindly through the crack, and even now, heat radiates off you. You lie there, heaving in sweet breaths, listening to the groans of the princesses you led into the Bazaar.

The princesses.

You push yourself up, force your teary eyes to open, and look around. Helya is lying with her back on the grass, doing breathing exercises, staring upwards. Of course she’s recovering fast; she’s even participated in the races they do at the Gulch. Tashanna is holding Ninian close to her chest as they lie gasping in the grass. This is your warband, and you couldn’t ask for better, especially with Hornet safely outside.

You take a moment, closing your eyes to let your stomach settle, and that’s when the giant glass snake smashes through the ceiling of the glasshouse. It slams hard against the earth in a torrent of filthy dark water, narrowly missing Ninian and Tashanna with a swipe of its tail, and begins hitting its head rhythmically against the ground. That’s when the ground begins to shake ominously.

Something’s coming, and fast. If you could see through the downpour, you might stand a chance against this thing...

***

Adila I!

Princesses.

The ones in this chamber are a good example of the breed. They’re exactly clever and resourceful enough to get in well over their heads. Luckily for them, you need them. Their status as uncursed free agents means that they will be excellent distractions for Eupheria.

The plan is coming together. Now, all you need to do is save these princesses, convince them to follow your orders, and bring them to the next inane sports event Eupheria has up her sleeve.

Go ahead. Do what you do best.

***

Mittens!

On the hill, there is a tree. On the tree, there are three golden apples, hanging from a branch.

Around the tree is a giant googly-eyed glass dragon in all the colors of the rainbow, sleeping fitfully. Around the dragon is a garden full of the worst plants in Hyperborea, a nightmare of vines and princesstraps and sleeping nettles. Around the garden is a wall, smooth glass without handholds.

You’re the second one here. Halfway up the hill, you can see the bright clothes of your Momma—

And that’s when a trapdoor opens in the grass nearby and Kazelia and Kyouko get tossed out in the tackiest tourist wear, locked in pillories and gagged with “I <3 The Labazaar” scarves. Well, there’s some help.

But there’s only three apples.

Eupheria is starting to make the competition a little fiercer now.

(If you just left Kyouko behind, you and Kazelia and Momma could all win!)

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

The Nightmare Roc!

You started existing just a little bit ago. When you came into existence with a flash of power and will, you knew that you were the nightmares of Princess Alina Cascade. You were born of her, from her, for her. That's the whole of your world so far. And that's why, when Princess Alina Cascade starts to tell you who you are, you listen, beating your wings in a torrent to keep yourself upright as you clench your claws into the walls of this chamber. You listen.

And you decide that if she's not afraid of you, that means you get to decide what you're going to be.

You toss her up into the air, and watch as she plummets, but you don't lift a feather, because you know she'll whip out her light and catch herself. With a beat of your wings, instead, you soar upwards.

You will find the ceiling of this chamber and break through until you see the sky, and find the storms, and in them find the wind and the rain that make life worth living.

***

Adila!

The snake-wife is smashing through chamber after chamber, going down, down, downwards -- away from Dandy. The bog is spilling out all around you, dank and filthy water, but there's no way it's going to drain fast enough to save Dandy. She's all alone up there, stuck at the bottom of a slowly-draining swamp, and bad girl! Bad! You left her!

The snake-wife is ignoring you, but as she wriggles along, her throat is forcing you down deeper. It's taking all your strength just to stay where you are, running the Red Queen's Race with all your might, and bad girl! Bad! You left her!

You are the watchdog, the Hound of Devilhome! You protect! Bad girl!

***

Kathelia!

"Order! Order! We call this market court to order!"

The chaos and uproar all around subsides, if only barely. The Market Judge looks down at you over the top of his spectacles, sitting on a throne made out of law journals. You have been locked in pillories that keep your hands up by your head, which means that Kyouko's ears, sticking out of her pompoms, are the only visible parts of her face, so she can't see any glares that, say, a nerd might be giving her over the public humiliation.

"We charge the accused with attempts to break market peace, attempts to circumvent the Laws of Queen Eupheria, criminal mischief, obstruction of justice, and conspiracy! This being done, we find the accused guilty on all counts!"

Hold on, what? Aren't you supposed to get the chance to defend yourself??

"We sentence them to a fine no less than what they hold on their person, to be given trendy souvenirs with a never-lose charm so that they may advertise the market in all subsequent chambers, to be given no less than fifty spanks with a paddle to be delivered to the rear, and then to be cast out of the market! Open the door and prepare the paddle!"

He bangs his gavel on a souvenir paperweight and a gremlin scurries off to fetch the keys, even as the kettle drums begin their ominous beat and the Ceremonial Paddle of the Market is presented by Penny of Penny's Paddles and Pastries. But even now, there's a chance, if you can somehow break free from your restraints and go after that gremlin, to avoid absolute humiliation in front of a crowd!

Go ahead and roll to Get Away, if you like, or just take your lumps.

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

POTENTIAL 0
ANGRY

THEN

The laboratory was mobile, contained primarily in Site A (code name: SHOEBOX) and Site B (code name: MAINTENANCE CLOSET), with the hardware stashed at Site C (code name: BEHIND BOILER). Lab hours were from 1-3 AM, with additional resource reallocation objectives pursued throughout the day.

Most of the work on the drone was theoretical at that point. She’d be able to procure one easily enough, jack a console controller, handle the surgery herself. She’s got the diagram sketches inside Site A. But it’s not going anywhere if the engine doesn’t work.

It had taken a long time. She had to print out photographs in bulk at Mercury Express, and that was after downloading them off cameras and hard drives and deleting them one by one, whenever she had time to herself. Mami would freak if she figured out what her ward was doing: the best thing. The only thing.

Isn’t the cliche that parents would do anything for their kids?

She opened the shoebox, removed the photo stacks, did her best not to look at them. Her dad’s buzz cut and stubble. Her mom, holding her all wrapped up in a soft blue blanket. Dangling over the ground while she held herself up by their hands in a floral dress. Her baptism.

The last stack was the supplementals. A printout of a police report (“1 dead, 3 injured in gas station shootout.”). Medical bills left unpaid at the end. The old apartment lease.

All science required a leap of faith. She’d done test runs, and had confirmed some relevance, but... at the end of the day, she didn’t know what would happen. Whether it would work. Whether she’d still end up living with Mami, or whether she’d delete herself out of existence. (Still a better result than not proceeding with the experiment.) Whether all of it would end up being useless nonsense, leaving her stuck having destroyed every link, everything that had remained— but the ache in her chest at the thought was further evidence that it had to work.

She picked up the first picture and stared at it for a dangerously long time through the night vision goggles. They’re at BeachWorld for her sixth birthday and she’s got her hands proudly behind her back, her face scrunched up in a grin, her parents on either side of her. Dad had saved up for months to afford the tickets. She’d never felt more loved in her whole life.

They would have wanted this for her. The picture is proof. Their love is the proof. Their love is the key.

In the dark, the pepper grinder roared to life.

***

NOW

“Put her down.” Is that her voice? Sounds like she put gravel in her mouthwash this morning. When she wipes her face on her bodysuit’s sleeve, the gunk that comes off is black and oozing. Not ideal.

The rifle whines to life. Three shot burst to the head. Sara throws her weight into the hardlight shield that sends the bursts ricocheting around, knocking herself off balance. She barely pulls herself up in time to knock away the next burst.

“Put her down.” Why is she still talking? Her throat feels like it’s been fucked with sandpaper. Her nostrils flare as her lungs claw for breath. “Now.”

Autofire mode. Intended to overload her volatile hardlight. It works, but too bad for Maria that’s exactly what Sara was planning on. The brief pulse and flash of the overloaded shield exploding outward forces Maria to change her visual filter settings in case @SARAHPHIM is trying to close the distance. Instead... well, all around them is debris and a ruined shopping district full of Product Display Cubicles. There’s literally no way that Sara can limp away after that display, and after the feedback to her engine during the overload, she’s got to hope that she can painfully crawl into position to get the drop on Maria without being found early. Because in that case, it’s all over for her.

And no kid deserves to watch someone get gunned down in front of them. Doesn’t matter if it’s a gutted shopping center full of middle-classers or a gas station at ground level. No kid. No kid. Deserves that.

[Are you watching closely? On a 7, Sara gets an opportunity to strike and exposes a weakness or flaw, but it doesn’t last long and she’s definitely still entangled.]

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

POTENTIAL 0
ANGRY

The wings? Oh, you’d better believe she’s keeping the wings after this. With a sweeping gesture, she takes to the skies once more, and begins the classic Superhero Aerial Defense. There’s a reason that so many superhero flicks have this as their climax: it builds tension, adds an obvious ticking clock of “when it hits the ground you lose,” and at the end of the day, there’s a part of us still scared that a predator is going to swoop down and attack us on the open plains of our communal birth. Shooting upwards, defanging the hungry sky, satisfies us and tells us: you’re safe.

This is the opposite of what @SARAHPHIM is trained to do, you know. She’s supposed to avoid everything here effortlessly, not make sure she hits literally everything coming at her. Instead of making a bullet pattern with deliberate holes, she needs to make one that deliberately knocks debris in towards the center, turning the battlefield below into a chaotic, flaming hell — and she needs to do her best not to crush Euna or Ferra in the process. Well, all she can do is pray they don’t get taken out by a screaming comet of twisted metal she sent their way.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. There’s still debris getting through, too small for her to get a bead on, but still deadly enough to kill those below. She revs up the hardlight generator until it’s as hot as a brand, a coal placed by an angel beneath her spine, and she wraps a net of searing light around the chaos, instantly incinerating the debris falling through it.

Her legs go limp, and only the wing harness is keeping her up as she screams, her nerves hot fires, her hands clenched into claws, as she gives her all and then some. Her mind is a white-seared tiger-desert of instinct. The camera drones swinging around her catch it all: the blinding web matrix, the spears and claws that expertly skewer falling death and send it hurtling into the hell this fallen angel hangs above, and the sweat dripping down her agonized face.

Forget the airplane. This is the new benchmark for ballsiest thing @SARAHPHIM has ever pulled off.

[Choosing to escalate the situation below, and to take Influence over the civilians.]

Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

Alina!

This is miserable. You take one step into the storm and it is the worst step. You take another step into the storm and it is the new worst step. You take another step into the storm and it is the new worst step.

The path is narrow and slick with rain, and the wind tears at you like frozen knives, like cruel fingers digging into your fur, like Oberon’s sword in your breast. It takes every bit of your incredible sense of balance and poise, not to mention the leg control of a dancer, not to get blown off your feet into the pounding, booming, horrible storm below.

And that’s when the Nightmare Roc swoops overhead. It’s... it’s worse than the real thing. You catch a glimpse of black glass illuminated by inner lightning, and huge yellow eyes large enough to drown in. Eupheria intends to punish you, to make an example of you.

The Nightmare Roc will wait until you have a glimmer of hope, and then it will descend on those huge wings and drown you in the storm. This is how this game works, little kitten.

***

Dandy!

Well, ain’t this a pickle and no mistake? Here you are, hooves sinking into the wet mud grass, and a bunch of poky pikes pointed at you, and Adila being slowly swallowed by a thrashing, furious giant glass snake.

You take a breath and let all the noise fade away. Don’t listen to Adila; your concern won’t save her alone. Don’t listen to the helpless pleas of the sacrificial victims; you can’t save them unless your head’s screwed on right.

You wade into the muck and then lower yourself into the water completely, until your hat’s left bobbing on the surface, and as your heartbeat slows and your held breath stills, and you know calmly that you could stay down here for half an hour if you needed to, but that you won’t be going back up on your own either, you push your arms up to the elbows in the mud below...

And your fingers curl around deep roots.

***

Adila!

Well. This is how you go. You have one claw clinging desperately to a forefang, even as the powerful muscles of the Snake Wife’s throat pulls you inexorably backwards to some terrible fate.

That’s when the swamp explodes upwards at the Snake Wife. There are branches grabbing at her, trees wrapping her in a bear hug, weeds lashing themselves into ropes and thorns nailing them down. You even have one tossed to you, blooming into fresh flowers!

This is Dandy throwing everything she’s got into this plan. She... she might not be coming back up. She’s probably stuck down there, weak as a day-old kitten, tangled up in roots. As soon as she’s pulled up, the plants will go still again, but... but she’s underwater and how long can she hold her breath, anyway???

Go ahead and roll to Finish the Snake-Wife with Sense.

***

Kathelia!

Okay. You examine the keys on offer at Hogarth’s House of Hot Hams, which are whittled from hambone, and relegate them to Subclass D in the notebook you bought at Sheets And More! to keep track of everything. This one is Volume IV. Volumes I-III are in your sparkly pegasus backpack. You rub your eyes exhaustedly, wondering just where Kyouko hopped off to. She was just here a minute ago...

“HEY! LISTEN UP! TEAM KAZELOUKO IS HERE TO WIN!”

Oh. She’s up there on an upside-down tower, shaking her pompoms, standing over... a trussed-up gremlin dangling upside-down over a treacherous drop.

“EVERY HOUR! WE DON’T GET THE KEYS! I WILL CATCH YOU! AND STING YOU WITH BEES! ANOTHER VICTIM, IT COULD BE YOU! IT’S UP TO YOU, WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO DO!!”

Stop gawking up her miniskirt, Kathelia, and pay attention to the fact that Kyouko just declared war against the entire market, and implicated you as her partner in crime. Everybody is staring at you, and a giant deer-centaur is snipping its claws menacingly as it clops dramatically towards you, followed by gremlins carrying carpets and ropes for wrapping you up in, and... oh dear. Where’s Shiva when you need a ride??

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

I posted a lame post and then I made it better with the edit function, btw

Masks: Resurrection Roundabout

POTENTIAL 0
ANGRY

“Euna? I’m going to take out the Knights.” Baby steps! At least she’s taking the time to explain herself! And she’s not yelling about how she totally wouldn’t have gotten hit by that drone and Euna ruined an awesome shot, not even a little bit. “I am going to hit them like the fist of an angry goddess and watch them explode into hammy confetti. Please give me a flight corridor.”

She jumps. She burns. She plummets through the drone fire, with Euna close behind her, and she waits with nerves of steel for the right time to open her wings and open fire. She’s tight, limbs close in against themselves, as she refuses to admit that this is terrifying. Her stomach drops out and plummets like a stone, and at least if she was falling upside-down she’d be distracted!

Like, not so distracted she’d hit the ground. But she wouldn’t get to see the ground zooming towards her at high speeds. So thanks for that, Errant. If not for the kisses and the possibility of another date (on Mars? the sky’s the limit!), she’d be chewing her amazing, beautiful teammate out.

Errant’s got the flight corridor on lockdown, but Sara can’t resist spearing a few drones that get too close on her way down. I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re Toxic...

Then she lets the wings extend at the last possible moment, the deceleration intense but it makes for an incredible shot, and shining silver spears start raining down on the prancing, posing knights as she roars like an avenging angel: “Get away from my friend!”

[The narrowest 7 I have ever rolled on Direct Engagement. Looking to Impress, Frighten, or Surprise.]