The Primarch Keeps Breaking Things

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SpoilerThis adventure shares a setting with Void Girl, and takes place several decades before Geri's birth. You might see some familiar names and potentially faces, but since the stories don't overlap, you won't run into VG spoilers here or vice-versa.

Onward!

Welp.

Now you've done it.

Your first day as an official Level II WARP MAGE, and you've already BROKEN YOUR FOCUS. Well done! You'd blame the baton, but with your history of mishandling mana, no-one save your own mother might pretend to believe you.

"Congratulations, Your Timelessness." Your bodyguard's voice skews towards sarcasm as he leans in to assess the damage. Half the baton's been vaporized. You really should've known better than to borrow your sister's. "You are, perhaps, the Fourth Ring of Netherym's first Primarch to break a training wand."

"It's a baton," you snap, jerking it protectively to your chest. Melted Worldtree sap smears your shirt. "Wands are for girls. And I'm not Primarch yet, so you can cut it out with the titles. Eugh..." You frown at your gold-stained palms. "Elana's gonna be pissed."

"Indubitably."

Your bodyguard shepherds you under the awning of a charms vendor's shop. You already made a scene, blinking into existence in the middle of town square, and it's the least you can do not to block the road. Passers-by give you, your ruined shirt, and your doubly ruined baton sympathetic looks.

"... Think I'll get in trouble for rinsing off in the fountain? That elf lady there looks like she'd slap you for bugging the birds."

Your bodyguard shrugs, and clasps his hands behind his back.

"You wanted to visit a 'reality you'd never seen before'," he says. "Figure out the locals yourself. Besides, it'll be interesting to see what fake name you're thrown in jail under."

Har har, you think but do not say, while your fingers grow crusty with sap. You've no intention of being hauled away by the cops, whatver they look like here, though assuming a FALSE IDENTITY sure sounds like fun.

- - - -

What will you call yourself? What will you call your bodyguard? And are you gonna risk being slapped by an Elvish senior citizen, or wash off elsewhere like a respectable human being? (No judgement.)

>_

> Name: Aedan.
> Bodyguard name: Barth (Short for Bartholomew) or Lucian
> Being respectable is for nerds.

Name: Pipple
Bodyguard: (Zephyr's suggestion, fits him!)
>Fuck you old lady we're a rebellious T E E N A G E R.

Name: Arthur
Bodyguard: Merlin
>Respectfully ask if it would be okay. Can't hurt to ask before doing it.

Name: Zork
Bodyguard: Fred the Fantastic
>Have a good old fashioned tantrum. The very core of the earth shall shatter with your rage.

Name: Eight
Bodyguard: Hellbert The Hieroglpyh

> FUCK THE POLICE COMING STRAIGHT FROM THE ETHEREAL PLANE

Name: Chris
Bodyguard: Antlers
> Ask "that elf lady there" if it's ok.

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Spoiler

> Chris
> Eight
> Barth(olomew)

"Something mundane and local-ish." You don't want to stand out any more than you already do. "Like... 'Chris'."

"Not bad," comes the noncommittal reply. "And your surname? The police will want one."

"I'm not getting arrested." You fold your arms in a huff. The cooling sap on your shirt snags your sleeves, sticking them to your chest. Smooth. "But, I don't know -- how about 'Eight'? It's a number. Can't get more inconspicuous than that."

"It is exceptionally bland."

Just for that, you consider calling him something truly uninspired like 'Fred the Fantastic' or—haha wow, this is terrible—Antlers, but you know you can't without laughing. You don't want that. People cursed with godawful pig-snort laughter draw lots of attention.

"You can be something dignified-but-boring. Bartholomew."

Your bodyguard makes a thoughtful sound. "There are worse descriptions."

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Spoiler

> Being respectable is for nerds

Avoiding the elf lady and the birds she's scattering seeds for, you approach the fountain. It reminds you of those tiered wedding cakes that grew popular in some worlds, just with less frosting and more rocks.

You reach for the water.

Tnk!

"Hey, what?"

You tap at the invisible barrier encasing the fountain. Tnk! Tnk! Seems you're not the first person who ever tried fooling with the display.

The elf woman on the park bench looks your way.

"It's for tourists like you that they put the wards up," she says with a wry smile. "Every year someone's child falls in, or they drop something, or someone drinks too much during the festival and..."

She squints at you, noting your puzzled expression.

"Aren't you here for the festival?"

"Nnnoooo...?"

You glance at Barth for assistance. Unfortunately, he's invested in his own conversation partner right now: a woman of his species, tall and tan, with bells dangling from her antlers and shopping bags in-hand.

The old woman lifts a thinning eyebrow at you.

* * * * * * *

Will you carry on this conversation, or interrupt Barth's like a jackass? Or, you know, you could do something else entirely.

>_

> BZZ! BZZ! Your second-hand last-generation cracked-screen PocketPilot is going off! Read what it says.

Tell her you were here to meet a friend but they never mentioned there was a festival on. Kind of a jackass friend, you might just bail on them and enjoy this festival instead

why are you talking to me old maid. amscray. (then you make the fart noise with both your hands until she goes away.)

> Carry on the conversation, as awkwardly as possible.

Tell her you were here to meet a friend but they never mentioned there was a festival on. Kind of a jackass friend, you might just bail on them and enjoy this festival instead

I like this. Seconded.

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Spoiler

> BZZ! BZZ! Your second-hand last-generation cracked-screen PocketPilot is going off! Read what it says.
> Carry on the conversation, as awkwardly as possible
> Tell her you were here to meet a friend, but they never mentioned there was a festival on. Kind of a jackass friend, you might just bail on them and enjoy this festival instead.

"Iiiii had no idea there was a festival on," you admit, just as a series of trolleys bearing crepe paper flower crowns, strings of brightly-coloured banners, and bottled rainglow flies rolls through the crowd behind you. "I came to meet a friend and they never told me about it. They're kind of a jerk—might just ghost on them and enjoy the party."

The old woman grins. "Good idea. There's more to the First of Summer than parties, if you're more interested in events--"

Before she can finish, your PocketPilot buzzes at your hip.

"Oh, uh--"

"You take that," says the woman. She tosses the birds another helping of grain. "I've nowhere to be."

You excuse yourself and skim the notifications quickly stacking up behind your cracked screen. The colour drains from your already pale face.

It's Elana. She's wondering about the baton.

- aghgh Aedan can you come home real quick
- I need my old wand back, it's important ;;;
- tell me if you can't make it ASAP

Sweat pearls at your brow. You suck in a breath and let it out slow, the midday sun no competitor to your own racing heart.

Haha, wow. This is terrible. Like, genuinely awful stuff. Elana looks sweet and fluffy as a blueberry muffin, but god forbid you break anything of hers. Doesn't matter that she's your twin sister—Elana's going to be capital-U Upset.

"Is something wrong, young man?"

You really shouldn't dump family problems on a total stranger. You shake your head absently, then consider the melted stump of Elana's wand.

Hahahaha.

Shit.

What now?

>_

own up

> Time for a little bit of ingenuity, a smidge of hard work, a lot of lying and a ton of stupid ideas. Let's fix the baton!

I'm glad both my suggestions got in. :p

>Just reply with a text that says "your baton is PERFECTLY FINE. I PROMISE. DEFINITELY NOT A LIE." And then throw your phone thing into the fountain, due to having already forgotten it has a force field around it.

>Make up a ridiculous story that no one would ever believe.

> Time for a little bit of ingenuity, a smidge of hard work, a lot of lying and a ton of stupid ideas. Let's fix the baton!

I'm glad both my suggestions got in. :p

YES let's fix it with our big boi brain

>Dodge the question, say you can't make it because... You're busy.
>(Busy finding a way to repair/replace the wand hooboy are you in some deep trouble)

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Spoiler

> YES let's fix it with our big boi brain
>Throw your phone thing into the fountain, due to having already forgotten it has a force field around it.
>Make up a ridiculous story that no one would ever believe.
>Say you can't make it because... You're busy.

OK, OK.

Breathe.

The megaverse won't end over a melted baton. Elana may not be above cold-blooded fratricide, but neither of you will suffer if she never finds out. Besides, training-grade foci were meant to be abused. There's gotta be some way to fix it.

Minutes tick by while you debate a course of action. You hate to betray Elana's pure-hearted trust like this, but you're gonna have to lie. Dramatically.

You swipe out a message on your screen.

- oh jeez I can't leave right now
- I'm surrounded by dying sand wyverns and Lucien's been captured by a sisterhood of Cervo succubi
- Fate of an entire village/Lucien's honor is on my shoulders, this aint something you just awalk away from
- port away etc.

- time passes way faster on this plane, I'll be back soon
- don't tell moms k? its under control, I'm a licensed Lv. II Warp Mage now & I can handle a couple adventures no problem
- g2g i think they're stripping Lucien, screen too bloody
- later Ellie

You hit 'SEND' before your conscience can press you into deleting this bizarre string of messages. For good measure, you throw the device in the fountain—

"Ow!"

—only to have it ricochet off the ward and into your face. You forgot about that.

"Classy," says Barth, who resurfaced just in time to watch you catch a comm with your nose bridge. The antlered woman who'd been chatting him up lingers in the background. "May I ask why you're bouncing things off your head?"

Um.

>_

It's the hot new meme

It's what the cool kids do, old man!

You can't distract me Barth who was that cutie you were mackin' on?

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SpoilerI am 100% sold on this adventure Tuesday. You're knocking it out of the park!

>That's just how you roll. You're a rebel that way.