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don't you mess with a little girl's dreams
Boogey Nausicaa imagines herself a hero
Permalink Mark Unread

Two weeks ago, a thing that was only doing a very poor job of pretending to be a woman crawled in through Nausicaa's window and raised its knife above her head and she screamed - 

And her friend the boogieman tore it apart.

Nausicaa had been scared of him back then. It only made sense. But he seemed so lonely hiding under her bed, so she crawled down there - and kept crawling into the infinite shadows -

He seemed to need a hug, was all. And he did save her.

They've been best friends since, and Nausicaa's become more aware. Of the way Nanny doesn't seem to sleep - no actually she doesn't sleep - and seems to know a weird amount of things, and is always meeting with other Nannies outside in the dark...

Of how her friend Sue's sister died, and how it was probably way more horrible than what the adults told them. Which was nothing. How Sue now has a monster of her own, a skeletal thing (Nausicaa's glad she only needs to keep her boogieman from scaring people, not from eating people).

How there's something wrong with two of her teachers, and how her classmate Lianne has something weird in her family and people are following Silvie around who shouldn't be - 

She's also become aware that she probably made her friend the boogieman. Three weeks ago, she saw a fox's skeleton, half decayed, and convinced herself it was going to follow her home and haunt her - 

So, naturally, it did.

And now the rain-monster who brought the drowning dreams touched her boogieman and changed him, and he's weird lately and his shadows keep dripping, and maybe if she believed him she can believe very hard in someone who'll fix him - 

A magical girl, obviously. Someone who will fight for truth and justice and humanity. Someone who can look into people's hearts and bring out their true selves. Someone who'll help because there's something horrible in this town and none of the adults want to know - 

Nausicaa sits on her bed, scrunches up her face, and believes very, very hard.

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-This isn't her bedroom. This isn't the bedroom of anyone she knows. This is a kind of bedroom that hasn't been in style for a hundred years. And her contacts aren't getting a signal. A twitch of her pinky slides the alert out of her view because there's a small girl on the bed who's scared and upset and that's more immediately important.

"Hey," she says softly. (In English. This seems like an American bedroom.) "What's wrong?" She's wearing a soft grey robe in a Japanese style, with footwraps instead of shoes and a dark blue scarf dangling loosely around her neck.

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"Something really bad is happening and my friend got somethinged by a really big monster and now he's drippy and behaving weird. Can you help him?"

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"I'll try. Do you know where he is?"

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"Thanks!"

She jumps down off the bed, bends over to look under, and calls, "Boogie! Boogieman!"

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Shadows boil out from under the bed - wet, dripping, running together - and a fox skull emerges from them to look questioningly at the child and the new woman.

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...That is very questionably friend-shaped.

"Boogieman?"

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"I made him. He protects me from monsters, but the rain monster got him."

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"Okay," she says slowly. It looks like a wraith more than anything, but her gem isn't alerting her to its presence. A soft blue nimbus surrounds her as she reaches out with her magic, trying to see if she can sense emotions from it.

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He's nervous, and somewhat alarmed, and wary of her in a protective way, and fondly exasperated at the same time. And there's something else - a deeper unhappiness, almost a dissonant screaming, like he woke from a nightmare he still can't shake -

He flows a bit closer to the child, almost hunching around her.

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That's definitively not a wraith. They strike only one note, and that always the same.

"Can you tell me more about what happened?"

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"A really big monster flew over the town in a rain cloud. Everyone had drowning nightmares. The boogieman went to look at it. He doesn't talk so I don't know what happened but he looked at it and then he started dripping and something was wrong, really wrong, and he's been acting weird and so has a lot of people - "

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"It's going to be all right, okay? I have magic that lets me help people be happier."

At the same time, she tries to contact the boogieman with telepathy. Can you hear me? Can you talk like this?

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"Yes. What are you?"

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A magical girl. An empath. What happened to you?

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"The Drowning Horror came. I - saw it - everything it was - and it was like I was drowning too, until I remembered the Girl."

"I haven't met any magical girls yet. Just the Nannies, and a windigo, and the meat puppets."

He seems wary still, tilting his head as he regards her.

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I haven't heard of any of those. Or a Drowning Horror. I think... this is not the world I know. She said she made you.

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"I think she did, but I don't remember being made. The Crone might know for sure?"

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I don't remember being made. I remember an entire life. But if she did make you, it's possible she made me as well.

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"Maybe. I don't know, I'm still figuring out how the world works." A bit of frustration: "The language is still hard."

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I want to try using my magic on you, if that all right. I think I might be able to help with the effects of the nightmare.

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He hesitates, then: "Alright."

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She takes a breath, and reaches for his emotions again. Surface manipulations are trivial, and she can toss them off almost without thinking. This is a deeper problem, more like altering a baseline state. Tricky, but not something she's never done before. The catch will be to see if it the change sticks.

Tendrils of light reach out to caress the fox skull as she digs in, peeling apart the layers of wariness and concern and protectiveness with gentle fingers. The burst of anxiety and jolt of sudden fear lurking beneath are what she's looking for. It's... odd. She's never seen something like this before. These emotions are transitory, appearing in the seconds before and after waking to fade quickly as the mind distances itself from the vision it produced. It's like he's perpetually on the cusp, there beneath the surface. She flattens the peak, smooths the edges, rounding it off with comfort, with safety, with the assurance of not being alone.

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Someone being able to do that is a bit alarming but it feels better, like the nightmare that got stuck in his head is forgetting about him, like the echo of the Horror is sloughing off -

"Thank you."

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Happy to help.

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He nods.

He's less drippy, now, his shadows flowing more like smoke around him, outlining curls of fur.

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"Did'ja help him?" Nausicaa asks the magical girl.

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"I think so. We'll have to watch and make sure it sticks, but he should be okay now."

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"Thank you thank you thank you!" She hugs the magical girl, then runs over to hug her boogieman. 

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Cute little girl.

Do you want to say anything to her? she asks the boogieman.

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"She needs to stop trying to hug the windigo, it is very worrying."

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Hugging you is somewhat worrying, from the outside.

"My name's Makoto, by the way. What's yours?"

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"I'm Nausicaa!"

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"I don't eat people."

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Do you have a name?

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"No. I haven't picked one."

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"It's nice to meet you, Nausicaa. Your boogieman says he doesn't have a name, do you want to help him pick one?"

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"He shook his head last time I offered to name him."

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"What sort of names did you think of?"

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"Good ones! Mister Shadow, Spoopy, Rogers, Dule, Patrick, Haku, Totoro..."

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"Where I come from, fox spirits are called kitsune, and they serve a celestial goddess named Inari."

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"Those are good names. I think he's grouchy about having one. He wants to be mysterious."

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"Everyone's entitled to a little mystery from time to time," she says solemnly.

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"I think boogieman works for now; I don't know any other boogiemen."

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"Leave problems for later until later gets here, huh? Works for me!" Speaking of which, she lifts her scarf and takes a look at the gem embedded above her breastbone it was covering. It glows with a blue shine, though a perceptible smear of darkness lurks at the center. About three-quarters full. She'll have to address that at some point.

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"What's that?"

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"This is my soul gem. It's where I get my magic from. The brightness is how happy I am, and the darkness is how sad I am. Doing magic uses up my happiness, but as long as there's still more happiness than sadness I can still do magic."

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" - Sailor Moon doesn't work like that. Does something bad happen if you get too sad?" Bad stuff always happens it seems...

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"The Law of Cycles will come to take me away. Or at least, it would in my home. That may be one of the things that works differently here."

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"You'd die?"

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"Well. Yes."

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"That's really bad."

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"Don't worry, I won't let it happen to me. I'm a hundred years old, so I know what I'm doing!"

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She nods, apparently accepting that of course adults get that old.

"Boogie can make people scared. Nanny might know some way to make people happy?"

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"We could try asking."

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"Yeah. I don't think my foster parents are home right now so they shouldn't notice you, but Nanny usually is unless she's having a meeting of Nannies. She's sometimes a bit unhappy around Boogie but I think she'll like you..."

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"That's good!"

Anything I should know about the Nanny? she asks the boogieman.

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"She's scary. She doesn't like me frightening people, even though I have to feed. She's old, and not human, and there's others like her."

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Thanks.

"Shall we go see her now, then?"

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"Yeah! Come on, she's in the living room."

And she heads over to the door, peaking behind it before throwing it open and running through the house calling, "Nanny!"

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Makoto follows, more sedately.

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"Yes, Nausicaa?" an old woman - her true age indeterminate, and an aura about her like the oldest of magical girls - calls, standing and turning to face the girl as she rushes into the living room.

Her expression goes slightly hard when she sees Makoto, though her voice is still friendly. "And who might you be?"

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"My name is Makoto. I'm a new friend of Nausicaa's."

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"You're not a human, and I've not seen something like you before."

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"I'm a magical girl. From an alternate universe."

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"Did something in your universe put you here, then?"

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"No, I don't think so."

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"Do you know what did?" She's glancing at Nausicaa.

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"Not for certain."

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"I did, Nanny," Nausicaa says, voice worried. "I know I made boogie so I believed really hard in someone who'd fix him."

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"Nausicaa - that's risky, didn't I tell you Imaginary Beings are often unstable?" she says, though she sounds more exasperated. "I don't know anyone who can make someone whole."

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"For what it's worth," Makoto says, "I remember a coherent personal history and world, even if it doesn't match this one."

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"Hrm. Not something I've heard of happening. It's possible Nausicaa's exceptional, or she merely made a path..."

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"I'm sure I don't know enough about this world to say."

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"I'm old, older than most of my kind, and can explain some, I suppose. There's a lot to know, if you'll be living here."

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"That would be helpful!"

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"Hm. For now - the nature of the supernatural, the magical, isn't known to most people. Nausicaa's foster parents are among the ignorant, so some excuse will have to be found for you if you intend to stick around. They don't know much about me, so I can claim you're my granddaughter easily enough. Revealing magic isn't a good idea - what people fear has a tendency to come true, after all."

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"Why is that?"

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"It's how it works. A child's belief in monsters creates their Boogieman - who will help them face their fear, if everything goes well. A community's belief and fear and worship of monsters creates the Horrors, which create the kind of fear they feed on. The gods were mighty because people thought so. I exist because a little girl believed that someone brave would come, long ago."

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"What are the Horrors?"

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"They're what boogiemen become when they grow too large, when they latch onto a specific fear to bring, and people worship them and fear them and hate them. They're too large to ever be satiated by the fear directed at them, so they bring their fear and their nightmares with them. The Drowning Horror, within an endless rainstorm, was a recent one."

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"Yes, I... encountered the aftereffects of that one. And fixed it."

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"Fixed it? How?"

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"My magic relates to the manipulation of emotion. I found the fear left by the nightmare, and smoothed it away."

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"Impressive. I'd always assumed horror-touched boogiemen were changed more fundamentally..."

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"It was buried pretty deep. I hadn't seen anything like it before."

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"It's rare. Most boogiemen aren't smart enough to notice Horrors. But if you don't have such things in your memories..." She shakes her head. "Still, we do need to figure out what to do with you - it's about an hour and a half before the adults here are supposed to return."

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"What options come to mind?"

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"You're my granddaughter, and they'll assume you're allowed to be here. You leave, and I contact the other Nannies to help you find somewhere to shelter, and presumably we then find another way for you to talk to Nausicaa. The Boogieman lets you hide in his shadow-home."

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"There's one more complication. The magic I use is renewable but finite. If I run out, I'll die. And I don't think the things I normally use to recharge exist here."

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"How is it renewable?"

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"As I use magic, I accumulate what we call grief in my soul gem. You can sort of think of it as the physical manifestation of the emotion of the same name, and if there's too much it will affect my mood. I can clear it off with special objects that can safely contain grief called grief cubes, but I don't have any of those."

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"Emotion manipulators exist, if - some kind of non-grief emotion helps? I'm most familiar with the fear ones, though. The mages probably know something, but they're not too fond of some things - especially Imaginary Beings."

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"External manipulation could help. I sometimes did that for other girls back home. It's too magically expensive to work on myself."

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"Then hopefully our magics will combine well."

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"It would be good for things to work out like that."

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"Magic's rarely a good thing, so - it'd be a nice change, at least."

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"Anyway, of your ideas for blending in, I think the first one is probably the easiest." Also puts her squarely in the Crone's power, but she's already there with the soul gem situation, so.

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"That's my thought, too."

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"Then I'm in your care, obaa-chan."

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"I'll do my best."

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"So is there time now to go find these mages or will that have to wait?"

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She shakes her head. "There's been one or two poking their noses around, but I don't know how to find any quick-like."

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"Ah well." The boogieman might know. Worth asking later.

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"For now - anything to eat or drink?"

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"That would be lovely, thank you."

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She's a good cook, and is fairly talented at gauging people's likes and dislikes, so something that's at a minimum inoffensive will soon be produced.

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Makoto's not hard to please in this regard.

"This is delicious."

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"Thank you dear. Now, do you have plans for what you'll be doing while you're here?"

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"Well, it sounds like there are a lot of problems. Monsters and so forth. If I can get my magic sorted, I'd like to help with that."

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"Good. We're always understaffed, it seems..."

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"I know how that goes. It's so hard to find good people."

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"Hopefully you'll be able to do some good, here."

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"It's been a while since I wasn't mostly management. I'm looking forward to it."

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"What do you manage, if I may ask?"

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"A sort of magical girl union. Making sure everyone had the resources they needed and enough help and so forth."

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"Good. I'm somewhat in charge of the Nannies, but, well... They don't really answer to me."

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"That sounds difficult," Makoto says sympathetically.

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"Usually we're able to manage ourselves. It's been... Fairly rare, that something big enough to demand large-scale cooperation has come up."

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"Has the situation changed recently?"

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"There's been - a lot of activity lately. More Horrors passing by than there should, a rash of windigos, poltergeists, and assorted demons and monsters have seemed agitated."

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"Some sort of gathering? A celestial alignment? A summoner? What's the hypothesis space look like?"

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"Unfortunately broad. The gods used to get up to shit like this before they were locked out. There's also powers - particularly old boogiemen or windigos or what have you, who can sometimes exert influence. Sometimes simply people being afraid is enough to start a cascade."

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"Has it been getting worse?"

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"The fear? I think it has, but - it's hard to trace cause and effect, there."

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"Lots to investigate."

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She nods. "Still, for now, let's get you settled. Investigations can wait for a decent hour."

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"I suppose it is rather late, isn't it."

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"I'll be up through the night - but Nausicaa's family will be home soon. I don't know if your kind of person sleeps?"

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"Optionally. But if I'm conserving magic it's best to keep a normal schedule."

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"Reasonable. We're not at any kind of critical point yet."

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"Hopefully one of those is still a ways off."

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"Hopefully! Unfortunately life doesn't always seem to play by hopes."

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"That's what magical girls are for."

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"Good. You've certainly done Nausicaa and her boogeyman a good service. I've been worried about those two..."

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"The boogeyman thinks you're the scary one."

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"He would. One of the duties of Nannies - and it's unfortunate - is ending Boogeymen that go... Well, bad."

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"Oh?"

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"The point of a Boogeyman is to teach people to be brave. To show a child small fears, so they may learn to overcome them, and prepare for larger fears. Some Boogeymen choose another track, and become Nannies. Rarely, some become intelligent and yet remain Boogeymen like our friend. Some go too far in scaring the children and in feeding on fear. Some feed on deep, deep fears of all humanity - a worshiped Boogeyman can become a Horror."

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"Was that how you got your start? As a boogeyman?"

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"Yes. Very, very long ago."

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"You can feel free to not answer, but uh. What did you look like?"

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"I don't remember. A shadow, I suppose, like all Boogeymen."

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"Huh."

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"It was... A very long time ago."

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"It must have been."

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She nods, and busies herself with tidying, keeping an eye out the window, then shakes her head and says, "Come on, let's get you laid down."

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"All right." These beds probably won't be smartfoam. How nostalgic.

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Indeed they aren't.

The Crone wishes her a good night, and leaves her to her rest.

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She still remembers a couple relaxation tricks for falling asleep in conditions which are less than ideal.

She sleeps for about eight hours or until something wakes her, dreaming of nothing in particular.

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Nausicaa wakes her up in the morning, happy and bouncing. Her foster parents said Miss Makoto can stay!!!

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That's great news! What a lovely way to wake up.

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Uh huh! Come on, dad's making breakfast!!!

(Don't forget not to tell them about Boogey, she whispers. The normal adults don't think the monsters exist.)

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Makoto nods solemnly. It'll be their secret.

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Secrets are fun!

She bounces around, rushes to finish her homework under her father's exasperated eye.

The mother smiles thinly at Makoto, says, "It's good your grandmother was able to offer you a place."

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"I'm very grateful. To her, and to you."

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"Nanny and mom're nice!" Nausicaa pipes up. "Are you gonna go to school with me Miss Makoto?"

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"I can walk you there, but I'm a little old to sit in on your class."

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"Oh, that's okay. But you should get to meet all my friends!"

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"All right."

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"Great!" And she turns to her homework with a renewed gusto.

Her family isn't very talkative - they seem tired and stressed somewhat - and it's quickly time for Nausicaa to go to school. The boogiemam follows along in her shadow.

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Off to school! Is it actually within walking distance or do they take the train or a bus?

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You can walk (which Nausicaa likes to do) but her parents don't like her walking on her own so she usually takes the bus. But since Miss Makoto is here they can walk! Or better yet, run!

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Whee running! Nausicaa is a good runner, she's very fast. Almost too fast for Makoto!

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She has lots of energy! And keeps to shadowy parts so the boogieman will be okay.

When she gets to school, some of her friends are already at the playground outside. Nausicaa waves to them, and they come over, and Nausicaa starts pointing people out -

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Sue is a few months older than Nausicaa. She lives with her cousin. She has a wendigo that fights off other wendigos.

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Lianne is a bit younger than Nausicaa. She once punched the boogieman in the face for scaring her friends. She's friends with the vampire teacher (but only Miss Lupei knows, and the kids aren't supposed to know), Miss Serpico.

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Silver is the youngest. She can do MAGIC!!! She's friends with the werewolf teacher, Miss Lupei, who saved her from a bunch of evil people. She's very excited to meet Nausicaa's other friends!

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Hello everyone! (A werewolf named Lupei, heaven help her.)

Her name is Makoto and she's staying with Nausicaa and her family for a while.

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"We're doing a sleepover for Nausicaa's birthday, are you gonna be there?"

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"Probably! If you won't find that an intrusion, of course."

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"That'd be great! We're also trying to get Mary and Kendra to come, Mary's got an angel and Kendra's got a spooky thing in her head. People think Mary's creepy but I think she's okay."

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"I'd love to meet them, too."

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"Yeah! We gotta go to class soon though, but I can try to get them to come over during recess. Boogie usually sits in class with me to learn stuff, but I guess the wendigo and angel hang out around here? Though I don't know if they're good at talking..."

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"The Beast isn't."

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"I guess I'll just have to be good enough at talking for both of us."

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"She's sometimes aggressive. I got her to stop eating people, I think, but she's not really friendly. - Yes Nausicaa I know you think she's friendly, you'd think a rapid badger was being friendly."

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"Rapid badgers need hugs too." It's unclear if her tone is a teasing one.

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"I'd recommend a leather apron and thick gloves."

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"See? Totally possible."

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Sue rolls her eyes.

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"And adult supervision, if possible."

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"And a common sense transplant."

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Nausicaa sticks her tongue out at Sue.

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"All right, all right. Off to class with you. I'll see you later."

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"See you Miss Makoto!" Nausicaa and the others (except Sue, who just nods) all chorus, scampering off, the boogieman following (and keeping to the shadows farthest from Lianne).

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Right then. So there's supposedly a wendigo and an angel hanging around here, huh? It would be easier to find them if she knew what they were supposed to look like. But on the other hand, if the wendigo was watching her girl, Makoto might be being investigated herself.

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There is, indeed, something lurking on the edges of the woods, that quite deserves the appellation of "the Beast." She's gaunt, incredibly so, with long ragged black hair, dark skin mottled with bruises, a mouth that doesn't fit her face, antlers, and claws on long lanky arms. She's covered in a fine layer of fur, and ragged, dirty clothes.

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Hello, she sends, looking over and giving a little wave at the same time to indicate that it's her talking. My name's Makoto. Can you understand me?

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The Beast tilts her head. There's definitely a feeling of wariness, and confusion, and - 'Not food?' comes the reply.

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Not food, no. Friend. Do you know friend?

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'The Small One,' somewhat dubiously.

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The Small One. Sue? Like her, yes.

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A pause. 'Not Small One. Friend.'

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Yes. I think. This wendigo really doesn't have a lot of words, does it? Hard to tell if she's getting across.

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It bobs a bit, then turns and ambles into the forest.

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Oookay. Well. She's not getting ripped to shreds, so. Count that as a win.

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There's a distant wailing scream, and the trees thrash a bit.

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Uh. That seems like something she should check out.

She circles around towards the trees.

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The Beast appears to have killed another, much smaller, Wendigo, and is currently helping a whirlwind of shards of glass (each of which has a single eye) fight something that looks like a brick that decided it was actually an evil tree.

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Are they... winning?

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They seem to be -

But there's more of the brick-tree-monsters, trying to slip by them towards the school.

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Well we can't have that, can we now.

She transforms in a flash, hits the ones further away with a blanket of crippling despair while building momentum with the chain of her kusarigama before throwing it to wrap around the closest one and pulling herself in to attack with the blade.

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The monsters seem highly perturbed by this, and stumble, many of them freezing.

The Beast redoubles her attacks. She keeps making aborted motions to drag monsters towards her mouth, then falling onto them with claws.

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Things are easier to kill when they can't move.

That abortive cannibalism thing is almost creepier than actual cannibalism.

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The Beast is feeling significantly frustrated right now! (Not eating things is hard and she's not even sure why the Small One doesn't want her eating Food.)

Still, with her help, dealing with the rest of the demons goes quickly.

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Well. That was fun, wasn't it?

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The glass-and-eyes thing buzzes, then wanders off (a bit slowly). The Beast turns to Makoto, tilts her head, seems to be struggling with something, before pawing at one of the monsters that had been frozen in despair.

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That was me. I can tell how people are feeling, and change it. I made those feel very, very bad.

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She rocks back, and seems to be thinking. (It's hard, thinking of things that aren't Food and the acquiring of it, but she pushed through for the Small One, and the ravenous is coming...).

'Me?'

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'I... could change your feelings, if that's what you wanted.'

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'Hungry.'

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'You want to not be hungry?'

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'Yes.'

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Okay. I'll try. Hold still.

She reaches out for the wendigo's emotions, prying deep to get at the core.

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Hunger hunger hunger, all consuming, muting everything else -

(She's screaming. She's desperate. She wants.)

(She's afraid.)

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Wow. That is... a lot. She starts by tamping down the hunger, gently, gently, waiting to see if anything rises in its place.

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Fear. Fear first. (She's going to die here - )

Impotent rage. She won't go out like this -

Grief. Strangling. Crushing. Dragging her down, swallowed only by the hunger -

But with the hunger fading, her ability to control her own emotions is - it isn't what it once was. But it's better.

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Walk before you can run. As Makoto pushes the hunger further down, she dulls the edges on the other negative emotions, adds a small boost to the positive.

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The only really positive emotion is love. She loves, and that's the only thing that survived, winning over even the hunger around the Small One -

No, that's not -

'The Small One. What. Is her name?'

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'Sue. Her name is Sue.'

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'Sue...' That's... That's familiar. Sue. She'd...

The grief lurks, like a madness worse than hunger, but... She thinks the woman's helping, with coming back to herself. There's a lot missing still, but -

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'It's all right. I'm here to help.'

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' - I. Knew her.'

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Oh no. Makoto readies for an empathic intervention.

Were you... not always like this?

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'...No. I... I was hungry. So hungry. And... I ate...'

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Shh, shh, Makoto soothes. It's okay.

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' - It's not.'

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It will be. What you've done is past. We have the whole future ahead. You can change. You can make things better. I will help you.

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She makes a high pitched noise. 'Only humans and wendigo are food. Food makes hunger worse.'

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Just because the solution isn't immediately obvious doesn't mean there isn't one. We can find something.

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Considering noise.

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We know I can help at least short-term. I'll talk to some other people and try to find out more.

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'...Thank you.'

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You're welcome.

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The Beast nods. 'There are - many threats. To the small ones.'

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Yeah. I'm working with Nausicaa's Nanny to come up with a plan.

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She makes a soft noise. 'Big wendigo. Coming. Mountains.' Her emotions dip towards grief again, and anger, and frustration.

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I'll put that on the list. Do you know when or how soon?

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'No. Not - a week. More.'

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Okay. Thank you.

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Nod. 'Just. Help.'

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I will. Who was that you were working with just now?

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Shrug. 'Doesn't talk. Protects a kid.'

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The angel, maybe.

All right. I'm going to go talk with the Nanny now. Will you be all right by yourself?

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'Yes. Think.'

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I'll be back later, if you're still in the area.

And Makoto heads back to the house.

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The Nanny's there, on the front porch, keeping a watchful eye on the neighborhood. "Anything wrong?" she asks.

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"I met Nausicaa's friends. And I helped a wendigo fight off a flock of trees made out of brick."

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"Demons. Then it's not just the boogeymen riled up... And a wendigo. Those are rare."

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"We talked for a bit. Apparently there's a big wendigo headed this way in a week or so, from the mountains."

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" - Wendigo can't talk."

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"It was telepathy, technically. She got better at using words when I dampened the hunger."

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"That's an impressive ability. Wendigo... The only way I know of to help one is to kill them. That you can reduce their hunger..."

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"I'm not sure yet if it's temporary or not. It did take a bit of magic. And speaking of which, is now a good time to go find a mage?"

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"Yes. I've contacted a few people, tracked someone down."

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"Are they local?"

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"They are now. Apparently the mages have noticed something up, too. Most don't like me, but..."

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"I'm not you."

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She shakes her head. "You're not - but you shouldn't tell them Nausicaa might have imagined you. They don't like imagined beings. Which, well, most are unstable. I've told them you're one of the mysteries, a possible unique."

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She nods. "All right. I think I can remember that cover story."

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"Good. My contact should be ready to meet now."

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"Just tell me where!"

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"I'll lead the way, how about, then let you talk."

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"Sounds good."

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Her mage contact's nearby, hanging out and looking kind of shifty in a fortunately empty park. The Crone introduces them to each other - his name's John - and then strolls over to the other side of the park.

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"So how much do you know about the situation?"

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"You're a probable one-off, and you started using your magic actively pretty recently, but it messes with your mood," he says. "Mostly depression sounded like? Which keeps you from using it. So there was a question of if the Mages could help with it."

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"That's about the size of it."

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"Some artifacts can influence mood, but we'd need authorization for those. Mage-magic is usually near-useless, but I've specialized in mental stuff enough I should be able to get some results."

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"How does your magic work?"

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"Lots of incantations telling the universe to please work this way instead, plus some twisting my brain to think it of course works that way."

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"I see. So, uh. Do we need to go somewhere else for this or...?"

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He shrugs. "Nah, can do it here. So, uh, I guess informed consent - there's sometimes emotional side effects, usually overshooting? You might be basically giddy and a bit manic for a while."

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"I think I can deal with that."

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"Right." He holds out his hand. "Easier with physical contact," he explains, "Though not needed."

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"All right." She takes his hand.

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And everything's perfect, the air is delightful, the clouds are funny, nothing can ever be wrong -

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Wowww, that's a rush. She pulls out her gem and admires it sparkling blue in the sun.

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He raises an eyebrow. "That gem's related to your emotions, isn't it?" he asks, voice curious.

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"You might think of it as a sort of meter!"

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"Convenient. Most people need to guess," he says, dismissing it as a magical mood ring.

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"Very useful, yes." She tucks her gem away again. "So that worked. You mentioned something about artifacts?"

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"Ah, yeah. Magical items. They do a lot of different things, are usually made by mages but some we don't know the origin of. We try to track them down, keep people from using them irresponsibly, so there's a lot of paperwork in getting one pulled out." He shrugs.

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"If there's one that does the same sort of thing you do, that might be more convenient than meeting up every day or two. I could help with the paperwork."

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"Bosses might want to wait until they know you're not evil? Which mostly just means hanging around for a while being conspicuously non-evil, we can't really run magic background checks."

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"Fair enough. Is there an easy way for me to contact you?"

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"Yeah. Got a cellphone." He rattles off a number.

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Right, she'll need to get a phone of her own.

"Do you have a day job or are you generally pretty free?"

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"My day job's looking out for magic. We vary a lot between too busy to think and waiting to be too busy to think, so texting's probably best?"

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"Okay! Thank you for your help!"

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"You're welcome! Easiest favor I've ever done someone, really."

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"That's good. I'd feel guilty about asking you to keep doing it otherwise."

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He shrugs. "I don't mind helping people. And I'll bug requisitions about an emotion artifact."

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"I really appreciate it, thank you."

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"Ah. No problem. Though if there's nothing else I probably should get back to work..."

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"I won't take up any more of your time. Bye!"

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"Bye!" And he's off.

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Okay. Cool. That went well. Is the Nanny still around?

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Yes, and she heads over when she notices them parting. "Everything alright?" she asks.

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"It worked! Really well, actually. He's going to look into getting an artifact that can do something but wasn't optimistic about the bureaucracy. And he gave me his phone number so I can get in touch. Is there a place to get a cheap phone nearby?"

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"That's good. And - hm. I do believe the mall has some options..."

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"I suppose I'd also need to borrow some money."

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"Fortunately I neither eat nor pay rent, so I have some squirreled away."

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"Thanks. Shall we go now?"

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"Alright. Back to the house, or do you have somewhere else to be?"

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"The mall? Or is that too far?"

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"We can catch a bus from close by."

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"That works."

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The bus is a short walk, which the Crone takes briskly, and barely has anyone this time of day. The mall itself is quiet, the small handful of people seeming almost nervous.

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"...Is this sort of atmosphere normal?"

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"Has been, lately," the Crone says, voice soft. "People are getting scared. But it wasn't before."

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"I see."

She doesn't need a fancy phone, just a cheap one capable of texting and ideally prepaid.

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Those are very easily found, at least. Prepaid flip phones seem popular.

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She'll get a pink one, then.

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"Good choice. Nausicaa might be put out you didn't get orange."

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"Orange is definitely not my color."

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"You know how kids are with favorites," the Crone says with a laugh. "Now, anything else while we're here?"

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"It might be a good idea to expand my wardrobe a bit. I can keep these clothes clean by transforming regularly, but wearing the same outfit forever might get people suspicious."

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"Hm, yes. I can afford something nice for you easily enough, but there is a consignment store and a thrift store here..."

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"I don't need anything fancy."

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"You're a good kid," she says with clear amusement. "You'll probably want a nice thing or two, but that's usually not too hard. Let's start with consignment, then."

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Makoto's taste is elegant and understated. She has an eye for pieces that combine well into a variety of outfits. It doesn't take her long to collect a serviceable selection.

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And the Crone pays for it easily enough, all in cash, then in no uncertain terms tells Makoto they won't be eating at the mall; they can go home, and the Crone will cook, or they can eat somewhere decent and not made of salt.

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Fine by her. She never really liked fast food.

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By the time food's done, there'll still be a few hours until Nausicaa arrives home. Does Makoto have something she wants to do in that time?

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Is there anything she didn't say last night because Nausicaa was there?

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"I can tell you some about how certain monsters come into being and into their endings," the Crone does say. "It's not pleasant for children to hear, though I think Nausicaa suspects a good amount of it."

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"More information is good."

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"I'll explain the wendigo first, how about, since you've befriended one?"

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"Sounds good."

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"To my knowledge, wendigos come about when humans die, having consumed the flesh of other humans recently - how recently seems to vary. Starving to death makes the transformation more likely. Wendigos are obligate cannibals; they can only eat humans and other wendigos."

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"That... explains some things."

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"About the wendigo you met?"

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"Yes. Do you know if Nausicaa's friend Sue ever had an older sibling?"

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"Yes. An older sister, who died due to a plane crash. The details were hushed up, but it is possible some people survived the initial crash - it occurred in the mountains, and it took over a month for them to find the wreck."

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"That sounds like the sort of circumstance that would produce a wendigo."

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"Might be the source of the large numbers we've been having lately... There was something odd about the crash, too, but I'd have to investigate that..."

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"What sort of odd?"

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"It's an unusual place, and there was an unseasonal snowstorm involved... And it's unusual that it took so long for the crash to be discovered. Long enough no one was alive."

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"In the complete absence of other evidence... That sounds like a conspiracy."

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"Could be. Or something singular and powerful that was interfering."

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"Trouble though, either way."

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"I'll have to do some digging to find out what's going on..." She shakes her head. "But, yes, trouble."

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"What about, uh, angels?"

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"They were created by some god long ago, I think, to destroy the creations of a different god. They're rare, since the gods were locked out, and have drifted a good bit. Did you run into one?"

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"Maybe? It looked like a glass tornado with eyes. Nausicaa mentioned one of her friends had an angel."

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" - They sometimes look like that, yes. And... What else did Nausicaa mention about her friends and monsters?"

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"Ah... There's a vampire and a werewolf who are teachers at the school. One of the girls, Kendra, has 'something spooky in her head', though I didn't have the chance to meet her."

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"Odd. Vampires and werewolves usually keep to themselves somewhat. And something living in a child's head... I don't like the sound of that."

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"Well, given how things have been going so far, I wouldn't say there's no space for hope."

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"Yes. Thank you for giving us some of that."

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"It's kind of what I'm supposed to do."

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"Still. You're good at it."

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"Thanks. So, thoughts about the teachers?"

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"I don't know. They're not - the type of being that's fundamentally dangerous to kids. I'd have to do some digging; might be able to find another Nanny that knows them, or something. Or talk to Nausicaa; girl knows a lot more than people tend to think."

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"Well, that's good to hear about the teachers. Nausicaa does seem to have a finger on the pulse of things."

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"Very much. She's a gregarious kid."

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"How long have you been watching her?"

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"A year, now."

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"What were you doing before?"

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"Helping other children. My last charge no longer needed me, so I moved on."

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"How long do you usually stay with a child for?"

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"A few years. No fewer than one, rarely more than ten."

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"For their childhood, basically?"

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"Until they feel brave enough to walk in the world without me is the usual."

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"That's very... fairy-tale."

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"A lot is, in this world, though often the more unpleasant sort of fairy tale."

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"I'm getting that sense. Definitely not the genre I'm used to."

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"Magical girls?"

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"Crossed with cyberpunk. It was the early 22nd century, back home I guess."

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"Huh. Well, good to know technology doesn't doom us all," she says, lightly.

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"Eh, not yet, at least. There's plenty of problems; wealth disparity's getting pretty bad, with lower-skilled jobs being increasingly automated. But the human race is still around."

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"We're having those sorts of problems already, so, I'm not too surprised..."

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"Yes, the trends were present for a long while."

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"Hopefully we'll be able to stop some of the more worrying supernatural trends, here."

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"I've been here less than a day and I think I've made some progress. I like that trend."

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"I do too!"

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Makoto smiles.

"Nausicaa should be getting out of school soon, right? I should go meet her."

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"She'd appreciate that, I suspect."

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"I'll see you in a bit, then."

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"Alright. Stay safe."

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Off to go meet the kiddos, then.

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Nausicaa's with her friends on the playground, and she comes running when she sees Makoto.

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"Hey there! How was school?"

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"Good! Something weird started screaming outside around lunch, though, and the teachers got really nervous."

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"But not you?"

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"I was a bit? Boogey went away then came back, though, and I think things're alright. The thing stopped screaming an hour ago anyways."

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"That's good! Anything else interesting happen?"

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There's assorted childhood concerns, but nothing especially supernatural. 

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Cool! Does Nausicaa usually go home after school or does she hang out for a while?

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"I like hanging out! Mom and dad don't get home for a couple of hours, so it's not a problem if I stay in the afterschool thing, though sometimes I'll just go home."

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"What's the afterschool thing like?"

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"We mostly play games together, though we're also allowed to hang out in the library."

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"That sounds like fun."

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"Yeah! Bet you know lots of cool games!"

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"A couple, maybe. I don't know how cool they are..."

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"We'll have to test them all, then!"

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"Okay!"

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"Come on, let's go get people! How many do we need for the first game - "

Nausicaa starts leading her over to her friends.

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"Let's see, how many do we have..."

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"Me and Sue and Silvia and Lianne, and Mary might wanna play since Silvia told her about you, and I think Kendra's not gonna wanna play but she's really curious, and Lianne's sister Emma might wanna watch? So that's - uh four to seven?"

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"Okay!" Makoto knows a couple Japanese playground games. They're similar to ones Nausicaa might already know, but the words are in a different language. Makoto can teach them if they're interested.

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Languages are neat! You can talk to people in them!

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Languages are neat! English is a good first one to have, it was kind of tricky for her to learn.

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English was tricky for Nausicaa to learn, it must be super hard if you're not used to it!

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The alphabet's easier than Japanese, at least. There's only one! Japanese has three.

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Wow! That sounds really hard!

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Korean was a lot easier. There's only one alphabet and the letters always make the same sound.

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"That sounds sensible, yeah."

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"It was designed to be that way! A king in the fifteenth century wanted to promote literacy among his subjects."

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"That's a smart way to be a king. If I was king I'd make all the writing make the mostest sense!"

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"Wow, that's a lot of sense."

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She giggles. "I have lots of sense in my head."

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"Enough to share!"

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"More like she has lots of anti-sense," Sue says, having wandered over.

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"Is this the raccoon thing again?"

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"Rapid badger. It was a rapid badger Nausicaa wanted to hug. She also tries to talk to the meat-things."

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"Have they ever talked back?"

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"No. They just try to grab people. Or there was that one with a knife."

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"Do they come around often?"

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"I don't see them much..."

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"Boogey slips off to fight something in the night a lot. I think he thinks I don't know, but it sounds like the flesh-things."

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"It's good that he's taking care of them."

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"Yeah. They're scary, sometimes."

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"Sometimes it's easier to face scary things with friends."

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"Yeah! My friends are really brave, too."

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"I can tell!"

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Nausicaa laughs, and it's back to playground games.

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And, on the walk home, the Boogeyman contacts Makoto.

'The Flesh Things are a concern,' he says, entirely without preamble.

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I figured. What have you been doing about them?

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'Killing them as they come. Dissecting the ones that aren't too badly damaged, and trying to find how they're made. Patrolling for more, and talking to the other monsters - I've been trying to contact the vampire and werewolf, but that's hindered by my inability to talk.'

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I can probably help with diplomacy. Anything interesting turn up in the dissections?

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'They're not made like humans. They don't have organs. They're just meat and fat and sometimes bones on the stronger ones. I haven't been able to identify the meat, but most of it's red meat. I think one had fragments of a crystal in its neck.'

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Definitely made things, then. Have you see anything like the crystal before?

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'No, but I haven't seen many things. It's not like pictures in my books. I have it still, in Shadow Home.'

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Shadow Home?

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'Where I rest, and where I keep my things. It is a place between waking and dreams. I can bring things out of it.'

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Neat. I might want to take a look at it, see if the Nanny has any ideas.

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'The crystal?'

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Oh. Sorry, yes, the crystal, not Shadow Home. I wasn't clear.

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'You're more clear than the Girl usually is, at least. I can retrieve it, when we're home.'

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Well, I've been practicing talking for longer. Thanks.

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Nod.

The walk home is without incident, and the Boogeyman slides beneath the bed, returning with a few shards of dark crystal cupped in his shadows.

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She takes them.

Thanks.

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He nods.

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(The crystals feel weird. They almost hum, in a way that sets teeth on edge and sings at the back of hearing.)

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Almost like an overfull grief cube. Weird.

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If grief cubes are the essence of grief, these are the essence of fear - or its cause. A yawning chasm, impossibly deep; the hairs on the back of your neck rising; darkness and odd shadows, distilled into a few shattered shards.

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Very creepy. Does she still get the effect if she sets them down and stops touching them?

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It fades, though not instantly. 

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Probably best not to leave them unattended. Is the Nanny around?

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She's findable, sitting on a bench outside, staring at a particular house.

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"Something happening over there?" Makoto asks.

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"A poltergeist, I think. It's been causing trouble last few nights, though hasn't yet tonight."

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"What sorts of trouble?"

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"Knocking things around, howling, keeping the family up. Last night it started lighting fires. I'm worried about it escalating - poltergeists aren't my area of expertise, but they usually don't get this bad this fast."

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"I'll keep an eye out for it tonight. And on the topic of things that go bump in the night, do you know anything about the flesh monsters?"

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She shakes her head. "I've never seen the like."

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"The boogieman collected these crystals from one of them." Makoto shows her the shards.

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She looks at them, narrowing her eyes. "Those... They reek of fear. Worse than a Boogeyman gone bad, but more concentrated than a Horror..."

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"So definitely not a natural phenomenon?"

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"No, definitely not. Someone made these, most likely."

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"Do you have a safe place to keep them? I'd rather not leave them lying around."

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"Where were they originally?"

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"In Boogey's Shadow Home. I have some concerns about possible resonant effects, if they are made of concentrated fear."

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"That's a good point. And he's inexperienced at handling complications, too. Still - my own home isn't suitable, not for that... But I can find a place to store them."

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"I might be able to- magically denature them. But that's likely to be expensive, perhaps prohibitively so."

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"And I'm not certain it'd be beneficial. They're unlikely to be very useful to whoever made them, like this."

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"Right. Well, here you go."

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"Thanks."

She takes the crystals almost gingerly. "I'll try to have these traced to their origins, too."

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"That'd be helpful."

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"I don't know how fast it'll be - we need to pursue other avenues while that's running, try to get the source of these things. Hopefully before any escalation."

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"Yeah, zombie apocalypses are not good news."

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"Or whatever else our enemy has in store..."

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"We'll deal with it, whatever it may be."

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"Yes. I can't overstate how good it is to have you here, Makoto."

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Makoto smiles.

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She goes to say something else, and then there's a bang and a whoosh from the house she'd been watching, and a flickering in the window.

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"Was that the poltergeist?"

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"Likely so."

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"Should I go check it out?"

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"That'd be helpful - I'm going to call the family, see if I can't wake them, I don't like that light - "

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Makoto goes over to the house.

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The poltergeist slams multiple drawers open and starts flinging the silverware around.

(He's so fucking angry! ARGH!)

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That's, uh, straightforward. How about we try less angry, more calm.

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Anger! Confusion! Slightly lower anger! Very intense confusion!

The silverware clatters to the floor.

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Makoto shows her face at the window.

Hello?

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There's a sort of shimmer in the air, a whip of dust around a humanoid body.

'Who are you?!?!'

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My name is Makoto. I'm here to help.

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Flash of anger and hate. 'I don't need help! I need them to GO AWAY!'

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Who needs to go away?

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'Everyone!!! The people!!! They don't BELONG HERE!!!'

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She brushes the emotions lightly. Gentle, calm. Small voice, small baby bird. Rage is an emotion best come down from slowly. It's too unpredictable, and can spike back unexpectedly.

Why not?

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The poltergeist is really stumped by that!

'They weren't here???'

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Soothe soothe.

When weren't they here?

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The ghost is increasingly confused and kind of lost. '...Before. I. Don't - '

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It's okay. Do you want to come out and talk about it?

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'...Maybe?'

A sort of shimmer floats out of the house, hesitating at the doorway.

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Gentle encouragement.

(Hopefully it's not a reverse vampire or something and won't combust upon crossing the threshold.)

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Leaving the house seems to greatly increase its general confusion, but it remains a ghost.

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Makoto backs off a few steps and waves to it.

Over here.

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It follows, hesitating often. The spikes of anger continue, but they seem directionless, almost.

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Interesting.

So what's your story?

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'I was - there, and there was heat and pain and light. And they changed the house and the people - '

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Who did?

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"I don't know!"

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When was this?

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"A long time?" The ghost seems confused, though.

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What's the first thing you remember?

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The ghost drifts, farther from anger.

'I. Was small.' A flicker of remembered joy. 'It was sunny, almost never sunny, we were - playing - '

The ghost seems to be getting quieter, smaller almost, like morning mist.

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Playing with who?

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'I think I see them.'

It's small, and quiet, and young and lost-sounding.

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This is adding up to something sad.

Can you reach them?

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'I think...'

What's next isn't really distinguishable. Like the thought is coming from far away, drifting along a river and settling before it reaches her.

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Well. All's well that ends well?

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The poltergeist fades entirely.

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Seems like. Where's Nanny?

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Standing on the sidewalk, hands folded in front of her, looking somewhat sad and pensive.

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"Seems like monsters that used to be people is a bit of a theme."

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"It is. There's things that were never human, but... Humans have the greatest fears of what could happen."

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"I suppose that makes sense."

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"It's unfortunate, that fear seems to be stronger - or at least more specific - than hope, here..."

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"I wonder what an Incubator would make of it."

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"I'm not sure if I've heard you mention Incubators?"

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"They're an advanced alien race who use the emotional energy generated by magical girls to stave off the heat death of the universe. Apparently they don't feel emotions themselves, and so have to rely on humans. We make a wish and get magic, and they somehow skim off the top to get free energy. They're these little fluffy bunny-cats that are almost scientifically calculated to be adorable, and I'm honestly not sure if that's their natural form or not."

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"Huh. Anything like that in our world would probably be malicious, or at least not very friendly to humans..."

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"The Incubators claim to not understand the concept of friendship. Or malice."

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"Do they at least have an idea of working for or against someone else's interests?"

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"Yes. But they don't attach any- affect to it. It's all cold calculation, nothing personal."

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"I suppose as long as the calculus is on staying allied with humans, then..."

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"As long as we're producing more energy than they're spending on magic, I guess. Though I'm not sure they'd take the time to step on us even if that changed."

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"A lack of grudges is one benefit to a lack of emotions, I suppose."

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"Yeah. Most of us find them a little creepy, honestly."

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"I can see that; humans rely on emotions a lot, in communicating."

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Makoto nods.

"Anyway. I guess that makes one problem solved tonight."

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"Yes. Thank you - both for helping the poltergeist and the affected family."

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"No problem. Do we need to, uh, explain anything to them?"

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"I don't think they'll have noticed what's happened here, and they should notice the poltergeist having left - but I can come by during the day and explain to them that a friend of mine helped their house's spirit move on."

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"All right. Are there any more in town?"

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"Poltergeists? Yes, though none quite as thoroughly - prone to acting out."

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"This one wasn't too costly. I could see if I can help the others."

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"Thanks. You're a good kid. Let me arrange us a ride around town, okay?"

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Makoto gives a thumbs up.

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And she gets them transportation shortly thereafter.

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Then it's off to do some good.

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The poltergeists are for the most part much less present than that one had been. Less capable of effecting the world, and fading away far faster. Their reasons for lingering are numerous, but mostly tied to a traumatic death related to or inside the house, and how they died seems to influence how they act out.

They can all be handled that night, at least.

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Her ambitions are lofty, but the size of her bite is precisely calculated.

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"Thank you for doing this. It's a small thing, from one perspective... But I think it means a lot."

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"Big things are made of small things. I'm happy to do it."

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"A good philosophy, yes, though perhaps it is late enough you should rest, now."

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"Good idea. There'll be more to do tomorrow."

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"Always is."

And home?

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Home. And naps.

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That night...

There's a shadow in her dreams. Lurking. Watching.

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Lucid dreaming isn't a skill she possesses, so the set of things she can do about this is limited.

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Her dream twists, shadows bleeding out, a deformed horse's skull leering from the darkest part...

There's a clatter like bones. Hands reaching for her.

A whisper.

I wonder what you are.

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What is she? She's a magical girl. Almost hard to remember being anything else, at this point.

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What is your fear, little girl?

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Ignorance. Helplessness.

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There's nothing familiar, here. Flat sands and gaping stars and strange figures in the distance - 

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She needs a handle to twist. People are handles she can usually twist. Figures are usually people. She goes closer to the figures.

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A skull the size of a planet, a woman made of stars, a horse like someone stitched and melted together pieces of horses, not knowing where the parts go or how many of them a horse should even have...

The not-horse charges her.

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That is not a good horse. That is a creepy horse. She does not like that horse. She does not want that horse to hit her. She dodges the horse.

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The horse rears, turning around faster and more fluidly than a horse should be able to -

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And is body-checked by a fox-shaped mass of shadow.

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That's not a horse. That might be a friend.

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Friend appears to be fighting the Nightmare, in a whirlwind of shadows and flesh -

But the Nightmare can strike true against the shadow, and the Boogeyman is not an experienced fighter at all.

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That's not good. Friend is in trouble. She should help. She knows how to fight; she's been doing it for a long time.

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It is, after all, her dream.

She'll find it possible to move and fight.

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Friend has confidence and surety. Enemy has fear and confusion and anxiety and nagging worry.

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That seems to throw the enemy off rather dramatically! It is a monster horse, emotions are weird and these ones are bad.

The friend starts pressing the advantage, pushing the Nightmare back to a wavering line in Makoto's dream.

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Yes. It does not belong here.

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Boogey surges forwards, and drags the Nightmare into his shadows.

Makoto's dream settles.

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That's good. Sleep should be restful.

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And, for the rest of the night, it is.

(Boogey knows better than to needlessly interfere with dreams.)

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Then she wakes up in a good mood the next morning. And in need of a conversation with Boogey.

I think I had a dream about you last night.

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'Yes. I was there.'

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What happened?

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'Something was interfering with your dream. I was wandering, and saw it. I don't know what it was.'

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Well, thanks for the help.

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'You're welcome. Thank you for reinforcing me.'

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I remember something... asking me what my biggest fear was.

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'I remember being afraid. I am not often afraid.'

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Strange dream.

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'Some things can cause them, I think.'

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I'll see what I can find out.

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'I will as well, I suppose.'

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What's cooking the rest of the waking world, then?

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There's murmurings about bad dreams. Chatter about nightmares and disrupted sleep across the city. Several people woke up screaming, horrified.

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Does the Nanny have any thoughts?

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She's worried. Nightmares - that's Boogeymen, usually. She'd suspect a Horror, if the dreams were all the same, but they're not.

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There's isn't, like, some kind of primal Boogeyman or something, is there?

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...She doesn't know.

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That's a little concerning.

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It is!

There's some people she can maybe contact, but - the origins of the Boogeymen predate her. The oldest crones when she was a new Nanny already didn't remember.

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Well. One thing at a time. Anything that pressingly needs doing today?

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Not per se. There's some investigations to do, but - the Crone has a creeping feeling that right now they're waiting for the other side to move first.

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She's not really a fan of being strictly reactive. How about approaching some of the other powers in town?

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"We can do that, yeah. Not all of them are very friendly, and I'm not actually hooked into a ton of networks - there's plenty that's slipping under my radar - though I suspect Nausicaa and her Boogeyman know a few folks, too."

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"Her friends had interesting friends, yes. I might try talking to the vampire or werewolf after school."

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"I'd encourage you to do that. I don't really have any connections in those communities myself - they're likely seeing an entirely different picture of things than us."

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"Sounds good."

She has some time to kill, then. Maybe a walk around town.

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Nothing interesting, nothing interesting...

A girl about Nausicaa's age setting a winged wooden statue on fire and laughing!

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That is interesting.

"Hello?" Makoto calls.

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" - Oh, hello!" the girl calls, half turning to look at Makoto, though she keeps the demon (currently flopping around weakly) in her line of sight.

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"Having fun?"

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"Yes! I've decided I quite like fire for this."

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"It does tend to be the most effective way to burn things."

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"It is! Fire's very useful like that!"

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"Don't you have a school to be in right now, though?"

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"Maybe... This is more fun, though."

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"I can see how it might be! Do you run across a lot of demons?"

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"Yeah, but I go looking."

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"Any particular reason you do that?"

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"I got my Angel, and he doesn't like demons, so I'm helping! And also people think it's creepy when they see someone my age setting moving things on fire and laughing. The aesthetic is very important!"

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"I think I met your Angel yesterday."

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"Huh! I'm still figuring out his language... Though I think he met someone new during school last time. Was that you?"

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"Probably. We fought off a pack of demons with the wendigo."

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"That sounds fun! The wendigo is cool, though I don't think she's enjoying herself..."

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"She's not having a great time, no."

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"I don't think I'd want to be a wendigo," she confides. "Everyone would be scared of me but not for the right reasons. I don't wanna look scary, I wanna be scary."

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"What would you want to be?"

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"Human-seeming. Maybe still a little girl, I'd have to think on that. People don't take little girls very seriously, you know. They're always telling us to be good little girls and sit down and be quiet and not start fights or talk back or have weird interests. But I'd be able to be where I'm not supposed to be, and no one could ever pin me down, and my smile would be too wide and my eyes too bright and my teeth a hair too sharp, and I'd have fingernails like knives."

"Or I'd be an angel. I used to think being an angel would be horrible, but I thought they were perfect little behaved children. Then I met my angel, and I think being the sort of angel who has to tell people 'be not afraid' would be pretty cool. Though I'd be more like a beautiful eldritch woman than a whirlwind of glass shards which are also eyes."

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"Sounds like the start of a horror movie."

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She laughs. "Maybe it is!"

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"Well, chasing your dreams is important."

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"Yes! People always seem to think I should have their dreams, not mine."

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"Speaking of dreams," Makoto asks, "did you have an odd one last night?"

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"Not any moreso than usual lately, but lately I'm either dreaming angellic sorts of thoughts, or else Horror sorts of thoughts."

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"What's the difference between the two?"

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"Angel dreams are weird. They're all fragment-y, and stuff's twisting and repetitive and bizarre, and usually there's divine fire involved. Horror dreams are just - the same over and over. When the Drowning Horror came, I kept dreaming the same drowning dreams."

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"Which one was it more like?"

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"The Horror dreams. The stuff I'm scared of, over and over."

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"I had a dream like that too. I think everyone in town did."

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"Must be a weird Horror. Usually they've got a more specific theme than just fear."

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"It was strange. I'm looking into it."

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"Maybe I can help. The Angel shows me odd things, sometimes."

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"That would be good! I might try talking to the angel too. I have" telepathy, which can help things talk that normally can't.

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"Neat! How does it work?"

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"You just sort of think at me."

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'Can you hear stuff I don't send?'

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Nope! It's strictly communicative.

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'So maybe not good for scanning for people or spying...'

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For that, I have to use other tools.

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'Cool. The Angel is really focused on fighting demons. I think he'd be more willing to help you if you help him.'

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"I'll keep that in mind. Do you know where he is now?"

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'He's nearby. There was a demon nest.'

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"Was, or still is?"

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'Probably was. My angel's quite efficient.'

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"Do you want to introduce us?"

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'I can try! Your telepathy might let you get through to him, too!'

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"I prefer not to contact people unprompted when there's another choice."

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'He doesn't know human languages, and he talks like glass all shattering together.'

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"It's still polite to put a face to the voice in your head."

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'Then I'll show you where he is, so you can wave to him when you start talking.'

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"Thanks!"

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'You're welcome! Come on, he's this way.'

And she practically skips off, around a few corners and to where a swirling mass of glass and eyes seems to have recently finished melting some odd little statues.

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Yep, that's the angel. Makoto waves.

Hello again, she sends.

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Considering whirring.

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We met yesterday. I helped you and the wendigo fight off a pack of demons near the school. If you think back at me, I should be able to hear you.

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'Unit not recognized. Transmission method not recognized.'

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...Huh. That's better than 'not authorized', at least.

My name's Makoto. I'm a magical girl. This is my telepathy.

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'Magical girl designation not in archives. Archives are corrupted. Data?'

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Your archives may not necessarily be corrupted. I'm not originally from this world. I have emotion-based powers, both sensing and manipulating.

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'Archival corruption observed in multiple scenarios. Alternate worlds not recognized. Multiversal archive exists; data is corrupted.'

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All right, then. Where did you get your archives?

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'Source data is corrupted.'

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What data is uncorrupted?

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'Demons. Weapon files. Many operational files.'

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I hear you like killing demons.

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'Terminating demons is this unit's purpose.'

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Your purpose, huh? What sort of weapons do you utilize in pursuit of this purpose?

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'The Sword of Light.'

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How does it work?

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'Mechanism files corrupted.'

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Wow this is kinda frustrating.

What effects does it have?

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'Burns targets in a line.'