*000000*

[X] "This isn't a fight, this is an attempt at an execution." [X] "...I can see how this would work, but it hasn't accounted for the other ABB capes, or even ordinary thugs. And that's not going into the fallout, or the legal ramifications... I want to support this, but we should get input from somebody more experienced. Like Feather, a woman from Ravinca who's job is literally 'police woman who fights giant monsters.' She's in Washington right now, should I ring her up?"

AN: A lot of the subvotes were pretty close, but the overall tone was pretty clearly 'try to point out flaws Taylor sees with the plan.'

((()))

"You aren't looking for a fight," you say with mixed feelings, "You're trying to execute him."

"Fair fights are for sports and suckers," Lacey says with a glare, "Lung is a known killer. The only reason there isn't a kill order out on him is because you have to be politically trouble before they'll put one out."

"Which is bullshit anyways," Kurt says through grit teeth, "Any perp who violently resists arrest is legally subject to equal or overwhelming force, depending on the state. Some shit in the government is protecting parahuman criminals, and it's getting hundreds of people killed each year."

"...I get why you're riled up too," you say, "I can even see how this is supposed to work. But have you thought through the legal ramifications of this?"

"If things go right," Kurt says grimly, "Nobody will know who did it. If they don't go right, but don't go horribly wrong, nobody will know who tried. If things go bad enough that anyone knows who took a shot at Lung, the law will be the least of my problems."

"I want to help you," you say, the idea of getting some back at the ABB holding no small amount of appeal to you as well, "But we should get input from someone with more experience on this. Feather is-"

"You want to get help from your magic cop friend from Ravnica?" Lacey asks incredulously, "Are you serious?"

[X] "Do I want advice from the woman who I witnessed kill a demon twice as large as Lung has ever been? From the woman who has led armed forces against actual giants? From the woman who is, quite literally, a guardian angel? Yes. Yes I do."

((()))

"Given Feather is an officer who has led fights against literal Giants, I've seen her fight-"

Kurt lurches to his feet, shaking his head, and stalking out with tightly pursed lips.

Lacey sighs, and rises to her feet more slowly, looking at you sadly.

"I'm glad you've found someone trustworthy you can rely on," she says gently, "But if you think bringing a cop, who's also an ambassador, in on something like this is a good idea, you're just still too young to be part of something like this."

"I've fought literal demons," you retort.

"I'm sorry you had to go through something like that," Lacey says, shaking her head as she heads to the door, "Nobody should have to, especially at your age. Stay away from the docks, okay?"

Kurt's sound-dampening effect fades, and you hear his pick-up truck start out on the driveway.

"...Shit," you growl.

((()))

"Things didn't go well?" Emma says a little while later, entering your room at the Barnes with two bowls of ice-cream.

"No," you say with a frown, "They-"

"Don't tell me the details!" Emma says, setting one of the bowls next to you, then raising one hand, "It's best if I don't know. I'm just hoping nobody aside from Lung gets killed in this-oh."

After catching sight of your expression, Emma grimaces, and takes a bite of ice cream to fortify herself before continuing.

"I guess all you can really do then," Emma says, "Is do your best to keep anyone else from getting killed."

"...If I can," you say with a sigh, "I don't know what to do."

"Sometimes all you can do is nothing," Emma says with a resigned shrug, "I had to deal with that a lot last year. It sucks, but sometimes you really don't have any good options except enduring until a better chance comes through."

...You're not sure you agree with that.

What does Taylor do next?

[] Get on with her own responsibilities. She's not exactly short on them.

[] Try to bulldoze her way into Kurt & Lacey's plot.

[] Tell Feather about things.

[] Write-in.

((()))

AN: Wow, I am genuinely impressed with how thoroughly you guys messed that up. Kudos to Datakim for at least trying to take a conciliatory tone about things, but the rest of you seemed pretty determined to role-play the headstrong teenager who fails utterly at understanding the perspective of others.

I mean, it fits reasonably well for where Taylor is in life now, but that's not usually the direction that questers seem to want. There were just so many ways to take the conversation positively, but I guess almost nobody was interested in that.

I expect I'll have to discuss what happened here more later, but oh well.[X] Tell Feather about things.

AN: Because this is such a mess and the voting is actually clear for a change, I'm posting today rather than waiting a day.

((()))

"…I think I need to talk with Feather about all this," you say with a sigh, "She'll know what to do."

"Hopefully," Emma nods, "Finish your ice cream first though. I didn't haul all of that up here for nothing."

The ice cream helps your mood a little. Emma needling you about 'tall, dark, and handsome' is both annoying and helps shift your mood onto something else at the same time.

((()))

When you return to Washington the next day, the first order of business is packing things out of the hotel rooms, which doesn't take very long with magical assistance, and heading down to the intended site for the new Embassy.

Apparently, being willing to put down pounds of physical gold for a down-payment lets you expedite purchasing property, and the Ravnicans generally agree there's no reason to delay things. Sharp and Rodriguez arrange a small courier bus to take you to the site, which is a somewhat dingy-looking empty lot, one which has a few stray broken bricks and bits of glass remaining from where an old building was bulldozed.

While the land itself isn't anything special-bare dirt where the old building was, patchy grass for the rest of the lot-it's a very scenic location. Next to a small forest on one side, and an open field on the other, you can see a few nice houses along a winding road on the far side of the field. Across the road from the place where you were dropped off is another open field gently sloping downward towards the Potomac River, with more forest and houses between you and the river.

"The Travilah area is pretty sleepy," Miss Sharp says, gesturing around with one hand, "Normally an embassy wouldn't be put anywhere near so far out, but with your own power-based transportation, and enough space for a helicopter pad if anyone needs to come to you in a hurry, I hope this suits your needs."

"It's lovely," Feather says with a smile.

"Nothing done by mortal hand is ever 'perfect,'" Elias says, "But this comes as close as reasonably possible. Actigall?"

Actigall steps forward and pulls a small finely-crafted model of a portal out of one of his pockets, and holds it up while casting a spell you've only read about; Magnificent Mansion.

A shimmering haze appears in the door, and Actigall smiles broadly, gesturing for all of you to follow him through it. Passing through the haze, you feel a faint tingling sensation, and then…

Step into the most luxurious home you've ever entered.

"It'll last over thirty hours," Actigall says, "And I can refresh the duration with a daily casting. It should serve while something more permanent is constructed."

"It will certainly make a clear statement that this is not like other embassies," Elmira says, glancing at Sharp and Rodriguez, who are both doing a good job of maintaining their professional cool in spite of their surprise, "Where did you put the sun room?"

"The center of the third floor," Actigall says, gesturing up one of the sweeping staircases, "The spell can't create life, of course, so if you want to make a proper arboretum out of it, that'll be dependent on you."

"I suspect we'll be here long enough that I shall," Elmira says, striding up the stairs.

"Bookwyrm said she wanted to discuss something with me in private," Feather says, "Where would we go for that?"

"Our bedchambers are in the West wing," Actigall says, pointing towards one of the doors, "Pick anything except the ones next to the basement access, that's where my lab will be."

Feather nods and leads you away. It doesn't take long for you to find the indicated bedchamber, and you find yourself briefly fascinated with the translucent conjured servant you pass along the way, clad in red and blue Izzet livery.

"So," Feather says as she enters one of the bedrooms, "What did you want to discuss?"

"Well," you say, making sure the door is firmly shut behind you, "I met with two of my parents old friends last night, and…"

It doesn't take long to describe the situation, and you find the same frustration and confusion you felt the night before rising in you as you do. Feather listens attentively, asking a couple questions about specific details, but otherwise just letting you unload until you get to the point where Kurt & Lacey walked out.

"Oh, Taylor," she says gently, disappointment on her face as she reaches over to lay a hand on your shoulder, "I'm glad that you trust my advice so much, but you really should not have told me about this."

"What?" you reply, caught off guard, "Why?"

"Because I'm here as an Ambassador," Feather says, "And you've just made me aware of a criminal plot that is essentially aligned against a corrupt legal system. You've put yourself, me, and the entire Ravnican delegation in a very difficult situation now."

"How?" you ask.

"I suppose you've been focused on the more hands-on cudgel-and-cuffs side of law enforcement than the process of law and courts," Feather sighs, "Being aware of the scheme makes both of us vulnerable to being charged as accomplices if it's carried out.

"Worse, it's clear that the intention behind this plot is to actually attempt to return law and order to a crime-ridden area. I don't know the fine details of your home city's situation, but their argument that the PRT and Protectorate could have dealt with Lung is compelling on the surface.

"This situation is representative of why it is so important for the League of Wojek to be diligent in their duties. If the legal law enforcement body fails at enforcing the law, it forces the citizenry to choose between suffering under lawlessness, or to take up that duty and enforce the law themselves.

"Right now though, we are trying to create a permanent peace treaty with the larger government body the PRT and Protectorate are part of, something that will affect trillions of lives. If we assist your friends, we will be transgressing against their sovereignty, something no sovereign appreciates.

"If we turn them over to local law enforcement, not only will we be aiding a corrupt institution, we will be likely outing the fact that Taylor Hebert and Bookwyrm are the same person to significant portions of your State Department, as well as seeing that information becoming officially known to the PRT, rather than implicitly known by a handful of its more trustworthy members.

"If we do nothing, and Kurt and Lacey end up arrested, we may be implicated after they are interrogated, and then we will have a major diplomatic problem on our hands, one which could be used to force us to make concessions in return for nothing."

"But what should I have done then?" you ask as soon as it's clear Feather is finished speaking for the moment.

"I don't know enough about the specific situation to be certain," Feather says, shaking her head, "I understand you were put in a hard situation with no clear good solution, but involving any member of the Embassy, even just making us aware of it, was the one thing you definitely should not have done.

"The only lawful way we can become involved in this, is turning in your friends for conspiracy to murder. Aside from that, the only thing we can do is nothing, including even giving you advice on what to do."

Feather's body language makes it clear that while she would really, really like to help you with this situation, it genuinely is not something she can afford to assist you with.

((()))

AN: I can honestly say, this is the first time I've ever run a quest where people tripled down on making a bad decision. Even when it was directly pointed out that bringing in Feather might be a bad idea, people bulldozed right on in.

Even after Lacey tried to tell Taylor on her way out, people doubled down again, and it was barely even mentioned in thread chatter that maaaaayyyybe there might be reasons this was not a good idea beyond 'Kurt and Lacey are clearly morons who are going to get themselves and a lot of other people killed.' (A conclusion which people jumped to with little thought in and of itself.)

I almost feel like people were threading the needle to disaster. If the 'just get on with your life' vote had won, then Taylor wouldn't have helped, but that would have been the worst of it.

The particular tragedy here is that there were so many ways this could have gone well. Someone even got close to one of them, saying 'hey maybe we could use our Artificer levels for something here?'

A few simple solutions Taylor could have suggested that would have markedly improved the situation:

1. Put the 'Merciful' magical property on a bullet. Instead of Lung dying, he'd get KO'd. That makes the whole thing massively more legit, arguably not illegal at all.

2. Offer to use Invisibility and Teleportation to give Kurt a guaranteed instant-extraction method.

3. Offer to make whatever gun they got their hands onto even more lethal, to up the odds their plan succeeded.

But no, instead not only did you lot not vote for Taylor to do something productive, you had her basically try to barge into something that K&L had been planning for months, and immediately start trying to take over planning before they could cover anything more than the broadest strokes of the plan.

So not only was Taylor doing something foolish, something that voters kept pushing for across multiple votes, but you had her behaving incredibly arrogantly towards Kurt and Lacey, acting straight into the overconfident and disrespectful teenager cliché.

Even after everything else, Taylor could still have not betrayed K&L's confidence by not spilling the secrets that had been shared with her. At that point, you didn't even have the excuse that nobody had specifically pointed out that talking to Feather would have political and diplomatic implicat

Spats with your parents' friends aside, you still have other things you need to do, including familiarizing yourself with your new mid-term residence.

The mansion that Actigall conjured is huge, with a dozen bedrooms, a library (unfortunately without books), a dance hall, two dining halls, a solarium on the top floor, some sort of magical pseudo-kitchen, and a full dozen different living rooms, lounges, and similar.

The windows look out on what seems to be a crude approximation of what's actually outside, but looking at it with Detect Magic reveals it's really just an illusion; stepping outside shows that it doesn't reflect what is currently outside, such as ships going up the river.

Anyone Actigall designates can command the cosmetically-enhanced Unseen Servants that staff the mansion, which makes for a good opportunity to practice what you'll be working with later. Miss Sharp is somewhat fascinated by them, and you spend a good quarter-hour trying to explain the magical principles behind them, and why they're so stupid.

"So it's basically like a magical computer," she eventually concludes, "It can only handle some kinds of inputs, and it gets much more difficult to try to make them meaningfully smarter."

"Sort of," you say with a nod, "I don't know much about computer coding, so I can't say for sure."

"We should get someone to try mixing the two," Sharp says, "I'll ask Actigall if he thinks it's worth the time."

You leave her to go find the Izzet, and continue your sweep of the mansion.

Elmira is bringing in some topsoil from just outside the entrance, and you end up helping her get some situated in the solarium, where, as a Dryad, she apparently intends to sleep.

The kitchens are the last place you spend any real amount of time, and it's mostly spent studying the mixture of Conjuration, Abjuration, and Evocation the greater spell matrix of the mansion uses to prepare a nine-course meal for a hundred and fifty people.

The sheer breadth and complexity of all the magic involved in this really drives home how sharp the difference between fifth-circle and seventh-circle spells are.

And how crazy it is that you've come so far, so fast. You only started practicing magic last year, and you've come farther in that time than some professionals do in a lifetime. Whatever the magical thing empowering you is, it's pretty intense.

Once you finish your self-guided tour, and setting the Unseen Servants to cleaning the small amounts of dirt tracked onto the floor, you find yourself at loose ends.

What is Taylor going to be intending to do with her time?

As an abstraction, we will consider there to be two time 'slots' per day, and thus fourteen in a week. Five will go to her responsibilities at the embassy, two to working towards her GED, leaving seven more to be decided on.

A few potential options:

[] Spending time socializing as Taylor.

[] Spending time socializing as Bookwyrm.

[] Putting in extra time with Actigall doing magic research.

[] Shadowing Elias as he does diplomatic work.

[] Going flying.

[] Acting as an independent hero?

[] Trying to patch things up with Kurt & Lacey, maybe help their plan either succeed, or them survive if it fails.

[] Write-in.

For vote format, if you want to double-down on something, put it in a second time like this:

[] Putting in extra time with Actigall doing magic research.

[] Putting in extra time with Actigall doing magic research. X2.

If the X2 wins enough votes, that activity will get two slots.

I am specifically including further interaction with K&L as one of many options, because of how low vote participation was during the conversation with them. If it gets six or more votes (six chosen because that's more than 10% of the last vote total), but not enough to take up one of the seven time slots, I will interpret that as a decision to try to clear the air with them, but make it clear Taylor will be sitting out their plan on the whole. If it does get into one of the time slots, Taylor will make at least one attempt to help them, if it goes badly again, that'll probably be it.

Once Taylor was talking with them, every vote had to involve interacting with them somehow, but this option will hopefully let us get a better gauge for general thread interest in following that plot thread in comparison to other things.

[X] Spending time socializing as Taylor. [X] Spending time socializing as Bookwyrm.

[X] Putting in extra time with Actigall doing magic research.

[X] Putting in extra time with Actigall doing magic research. X2

[X] Going flying. [X] Shadowing Elias as he does diplomatic work. [X] Trying to patch things up with Kurt & Lacey, maybe help their plan either succeed, or them survive if it fails.

((()))

Living in a magical mansion is a bit weird, but you could get used to the comforts of silk sheets and a magical serving staff handling a lot of the basic chores. Miss Smith is brought in for a trial period, and the two of you get some experience with directing Unseen Servants around.

Only one genuinely interesting thing comes up during the days of settling in though, and that's when you're helping Actigall's team with more dimensional magic study.

His first order of business is doing a lot of detection work around the property, and getting Sharp and Gonzalez to let him take some scans, which he compares to the Ravnicans and yourself. Various esoteric energies exist in different concentrations and 'frequencies' in different dimensions, and establishing what's normal for Earth Bet compared to Ravnica is an important part of that.

It only takes a couple of days for him to come to a very important conclusion, which he presents to the entire embassy.

"Preliminary findings indicate that the dimensional membrane around Earth Bet is much weaker than that around Ravnica," Actigall starts with.

"Is that dangerous?" Elias asks.

"Not in any direct way," Actigall says, shaking his head, "'Weak' carries some negative connotations that are not appropriate. Perhaps a better way to put it would be the chasm between realms is less wide, or…"

He trails off for a few moments, clearly deep in thought, before starting again.

"Imagine the Astral Plane as being like an ocean," he says, "The deeper that you go, the more pressure you're under. All 'Prime Material' planes exist within the Astral Plane at differing depths. Ravnica is so deep within the ocean that no light penetrates so low, while Earth Bet is close enough to the surface that a non-amphibious sapient can comfortably swim about."

"What are the practical consequences of this?" Feather asks.

"Traveling to other planes should be much easier from Earth Bet," Actigall says, "While the coterminous demiplane of Agyrem is the only destination close enough within the Astral for 'normal' travel from Ravnica, Earth Bet should offer us ready access to any other plane that is at a reasonable 'depth' within the Astral."

"So you want to engage in further exploration," Feather concludes quickly.

"Yes," Actigall says, "While the people of this plane have understandable reservations about opening it up to settlement from a population a thousand times theirs, allowing us to stage through here to settle other worlds, especially if we can find one which is mostly or completely empty, is something they should be much more amenable to."

"Reasonable," Elias says with a nod, "But don't attempt such a travel experiment without a thorough understanding of what might go wrong, and be sure to discuss it with our liaisons first. We don't want to spook them with dangerous experimental magic conducted inside their borders."

"Of course," Actigall says with a nod, "I'll need some time to prepare safety measures my intended experiments anyways. It should be adequate time for them to give an official response."

A few other details are discussed before the small meeting breaks up, and Actigall approaches you with an odd request.

"Taylor," he says, "You may recall our attempt at a safety test during the experiment that returned you to Earth Bet the first time. In order to prepare for similar tests, I will need a large monkey, a large lizard, and a roughly Elmira-sized tree. Could you set about collecting them for me?"

"Uh," you say, "That's something I've never had to do before, but I can definitely look into it. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to buy a tree fairly easily, but I don't have any idea how hard getting ahold of the rest is, so I'll have to get back to you on that later."

"Of course," Actigall says with a nod, "It'll be three days or more before I'm ready for the test regardless, so you certainly have some time."

...You get the feeling he doesn't really understand what not having Nivix's established resource base immediately at hand means for the availability of strange things like monkeys and giant lizards.

What do?

[] Write-in.

((()))

AN: A bit surprised with the vote outcome; I had particularly not thought socialization would lead, much less strongly so, but it suggests good things for Taylor's work/life balance. I almost went right into writing some social scenes as a result, but decided pacing would be better for something more object-oriented first.

[X] Questioning things. For Science! Now with government oversight.

- [x] Clarify: Why these specific creatures? Warn Actigall that it will probably take longer than three days to get a hold of a large monkey.

- [x] Research: spend a few hours researching what organizations would oversee such experiments then approach your government liaisons (with Actigall's permission) about the best way to get in contact with them.

- [x] Practical: ask Actigall if you could participate in the experiment as his aid/gopher since you have had limited experience from the side not stuck in the circle.

AN: Vote turnout was tiny; I suppose I'm used to the voter-base of BQ, which has a lot of older grognards well-known on the thread to be trustworthy with esoteric subjects.

((()))

"I think there's a bunch of bureaucracy involved with using animals for testing," you say, "I'll get things started, but it might move forward at the speed of paperwork."

"Do what you can," Actigall says with a nod, "This will be a learning experience for both of us."

"I guess," you say, "I'd like to be part of one of these experiments outside of the circle for a change."

"Of course," Actigall says with a proud smile, "I believe you have a bright future ahead of you with the Izzet, and I'll be happy to help you along that path."

The positive feedback leaves you feeling good in a strange way, and you find yourself surprisingly energetic for someone about to go confront the dreaded bureaucracy.

((()))

Getting the tree is about as easy as you expected. A quick internet search at one of the local libraries shows you where the nearest Christmas Tree farm is, and by the time the librarians are finished getting over the shock of having a Dragon walk in and ask where the public computers are, you're flying off towards the closest thing to 'rural' in the DC area.

You can put on a pretty good turn of speed, and satellite maps are as useful as you'd expect for finding things from the air. You have to stay under five hundred feet unless you get a Pilot's license and start carrying a radio beacon and at least two running lights, but half that is easily enough to find the farm, especially since it isn't all that far from the embassy site.

Long rows of evergreen trees are kind of distinctive.

You circle down towards the farmhouse and the modest dirt parking area around it. There's a dog on one of those zip-line style restraints, and unsurprisingly the Golden Retriever starts barking as soon as you get near. Resisting the urge to snarl it into submission, you instead carefully walk up onto the farmhouse porch, and knock gently on the door.

"Hello?" you call, "Are you willing to sell trees out of season?"

"Coming!" a deep voice replies, steadily drawing closer to the door, "Sorry about the dog, Bernie's not usually like this."

The door opens, revealing a well-muscled man in late middle age, whose eyes widen as he catches sight of you.

"Hello?" you say, but he's already flinching to the side, and then your eyes widen as he pulls a shotgun from beside the door.

You dive out of the way, but fortunately he doesn't actually get as far as pointing at you, instead taking a deep breath as he stares at you.

"Hello," he replies a bit stiffly, "Who and what are you?"

"...I'm Bookwyrm," you reply a bit hesitantly, resisting the urge to spread your wings in preparation for fleeing, "And I'm here for a tree."

"...Fair enough," he says, carefully setting the gun aside again, "I'd recommend you warn strangers you don't look human when you go visiting. You're one of those case-somethin' capes?"

"They've got some sort of category for me," you reply slowly, "I have all the normal mental faculties of a human."

"Alright then," he says, taking a deep breath, "Sorry about the gun. I'm Sam, and I do sell trees off-season, but full price even if they aren't as big as they would be come Winter. Let's head around back and I'll show you the stock."

"Thank you," you say, carefully stepping towards the door as he sits down, and starts putting on a pair of boots, "Uh, is it normal to keep a gun by the door around here?"

"Get crop damage from deer," Sam says as he starts lacing the boots up, "They'll eat the bark off saplings and kill 'em if you let them. Local G-men don't like using a proper rifle for hunting so close to town, so I have to make do with buckshot."

"Huh," you reply, "I'm a city girl, and putting a gun right by the door would just be asking for someone to pinch it in a B&E."

"Part of why I don't like cities much," Sam says, shaking his head and standing back up, "Okay for visits, wouldn't want to live there, but this world has all sorts. What d'you want the tree for, anyways? Some kind of special diet requirement?"

"No," you say, shaking your head, "It's, uh, well another parahuman whose body is like a tree, we're doing some experimental stuff, and want to test for adverse effects as best we can."

"Sounds sensible," Sam says, pulling a broad-brimmed hat onto his head, before stepping out and closing the door behind him, "Come along then. I'm guessing you'll want a tree about person-sized?"

"Yeah," you say, padding along after his long-legged stride, appreciating how he's making an effort not to stare at you, "She's tall, but not huge, maybe five eight, if that helps."

"It should," Sam says, "I suppose with teeth like that, you're carnivorous?"

"Omnivore," you say shaking your head, "My stomach acid is strong enough to melt stone; there isn't much I can't eat."

"Hm," Sam replies, glancing your way for a moment as he opens a small fence gate, "Those wings are functional?"

"I flew here," you reply.

"You interested in helping me track deer?" he asks, "Birds-eye view would help keep the oversized rats from getting away from me all the time."

...You're fairly sure that this is his way of actively trying to make you feel welcome after your awkward introduction.

Reply how?

[] Politely decline.

[] Sure, so long as the pay is worth it.

-[] And as a flying 'parahuman,' your time is worth quite a lot.

[X] "I'm pretty busy already, unfortunately. But if you want I can do a fast circle of the area for 'for venison on the hoof' before I have to head home after having dinner here."

((()))

"I could do a quick circuit of the area for you," you say, "But I'm pretty busy, and don't really have time for a protracted hunt of 'venison on the hoof.'"

"...Tell you what," Sam says, "After we pick out your tree, you see if you can spook any hoofed rats towards the farmhouse with a quick sweep from the far pasture up towards th' farmhouse, and if we get anything, I'll give you the tree and a haunch from the deer."

"And if I don't spook anything?" you ask.

"Quarter off the price of the tree," Sam says with a shrug, "Just remember, you can't take 'em down. DNR gets picky about who I have helping me with the shooting, but anyone can drive."

"Sounds fair," you say with a nod, "...I'm pretty fast, what if I catch one without killing it?"

"Ain't no laws about that," Sam says with a grin, "Probably because there's been no need."

His smile is a bit infectious, and you're in a pretty good mood by the time you reach the tree field he's leading to you, which is replete with seven and eight foot tall evergreens.

"Most people like Fir's for their Christmas trees," Sam says, "Not as messy as Pines, an' the look is pretty nice too. If you're looking for one that weighs about as much as a tall woman, an eight footer should be about right. How you plannin' on moving it?"

"I'll pick it up and carry it," you say with a shrug.

"Well," Sam says, looking you up and down again, "You are the size of a horse, so maybe that'll work. If'n you need help, my boy'd be willing to come 'round with his pickup if you pay him twenty bucks or so, 'pending on how far you need it taken."

"Not far," you say, "I'll keep that in mind if it's too heavy. How 'bout this one?"

Sam hums and steps up to the eight-foot tree in question, giving it a solid kick at the base of the trunk, making the whole thing shake.

"Almost doing me a favor, picking that one," he says, "By next Winter, it'll be too big for most houses, too small for the fancy folks who want a monster in their foyer. Usually a hundred bucks for something like this."

"That's in my budget," you say with a shrug.

"I'll grab my saw," Sam says, heading down towards a shack at the end of the row of trees, "It'll probably last a good month if you keep the stump in water. If you want it picked out with some of the roots, that'll take a lot more work, be a lot more expensive."

"A month is fine," you say, "Tests should start in a few days."

"Alright then," Sam says, pulling a chainsaw out of the shed and giving it a quick look-over, before opening the small gas tank and starting to fuel it up, "Don't think I have any ear pro that'd fit your head; if your ears are sensitive, you might want t' get some distance."

"I'll be fine," you say; your ears are quite sensitive, but they're also supernaturally durable, so it shouldn't be a problem.

It only takes a couple of moments for Sam to line himself up with the tree, then he starts up the saw with a roar, and smoothly severs the trunk in a matter of seconds.

"Alright," he says, pulling his earmuffs down, "Gotta be careful how you carry a tree if you want to keep the branches nice. Firs are fairly forgiving, springy branches and all, but no point being stupid about it."

"We can leave it there for now," you say, "It doesn't make much difference where I pick it up from, unless I need the pickup to help, so no point in extra work we might not need. How far out should I go if I'm trying to herd any dear on your land towards you?"

"Half the small forest over yonder is on my land," Sam says, gesturing towards the full grown trees just past this field of evergreens, "But Patrick wants the deer gone just as much as I do, so go right ahead and start your sweep from the other side.

"Alright," you say, moving far enough from the Firs to unfurl your wings, "I'll give you a couple minutes to get back to your house and arm up before I start my sweep. I'm pretty tough, but be careful where you're shooting, okay?"

"Of course," Sam says with a nod, "I'll be shooting from the balcony. Always shoot from an elevated position if you can, puts the bullets in the dirt if you miss."

You return his nod, then leap up into the air, flapping swiftly as you move towards the small forest in question. It's only a couple hundred yards across, and you can smell prey animals within. You never really took the time to go snooping through woods in Dragon form before, but you still recognize the scent of squirrels, birds, and chipmunks from their city-dwelling kin.

You find a convenient branch sticking out from a large oak tree to perch on, on the far side of the forest, and consider how to do this while you wait a couple minutes.

What do?

[] Fly through the forest and just scare them towards Sam.

[] Get aggressive, see if you can grab a deer directly. You're confident of your ability to not lethally injure one before you get it under Sam's gun.

[] Write-in.

((()))

AN: Probably just one more update on this little outing. I originally was planning on just doing a paragraphs of 'Taylor gets a tree from a Christmas tree farm,' but I decided breaking up the 'people stand around and talk to each other' scenes with actually doing something would be good.

[X] Fly through the forest and just scare them towards Sam.

-[X] Test out your roaring skills

((()))

After what you hope is long enough for Sam to get back to his house and into firing position, you take off from your tree branch, trading a little altitude for speed as you wing your way into the forest.

It isn't a particularly thick forest; big trees, widely separated, with most of their branches higher up, but even so, you're constantly forced to bank and weave in order to avoid smacking your wings into trees or branches.

You've gotten a lot bigger since your last visit to Bet.

It's easy to forget that in the air, and while you're aware of that when you're moving on foot, on all fours you're still around the same general height as your human form. Your wings though, stretch dozens of feet now, and flying through the forest really drives the sheer scale of that home.

Unsurprisingly, the sheer amount of ruckus your movement kicks up sends every critter in sight fleeing, rodents, birds, you see a reptile or two, and after a few moments, one deer.

For a moment, it freezes at the sight of a half-ton of winged death bearing down on it.

You roar.

It runs, exploding into great leaping bounds of motion.

A primal part of you is pleased as you chase after, especially once you manage to herd it out into the open, and can start flying properly, your wings straining pleasantly against the air as you begin to overtake, and-

BLAM.

-The deer collapses like a doll with its strings cut, a red mist blasted out of its chest; you backwing hard, touching down alongside what is very swiftly becoming a corpse, and see that half the heart and a lung has been blown out its flank.

"Nice shot!" you call, vaguely wishing the Boros had been so well-equipped during your sojourn in the lower city, "It's dead."

Technically it twitches once or twice more before going completely still; even a heart-shot isn't quite instantly fatal, but that's just the body trying to resist the inevitable. After it gives up the ghost, you wrap one claw around its neck, before throwing yourself back into the air, and heading towards the farmhouse.

Sam steps out of the farmhouse just a few seconds before you arrive at the empty dirt parking lot, and his eyes widen as you gently plop the carcass down in front of him.

"Proper super-predator alright," he says, shaking his head, "It'll take me an' the wife a while to butcher the deer, but I can help you haul the tree out right now if you'd like."

"No need," you say, shaking your head, reaching into a small pouch attached to the back of your choker, and pulling out a small card with the embassy's interim phone number on it, "Just call this number and leave a message when I can pick up the venison, I can move the tree by myself."

"You sure?" he asks.

You show him what a Dragon smirking looks like, before leaping up into the air again, and soaring over to where your tree is waiting. Gliding down towards it, you begin casting Teleport, finishing the spell just as you're in range to touch it, dragging it through the dimensional membrane to the embassy grounds in an instant.

Tree, get.

((()))

Monitor lizards are available, at a significant price, at an upscale pet store in the DC metro area, but you're fairly sure that there's legal differences between a pet, and an animal intended for experimentation, so you decide to check with Miss Sharp before trying to purchase one.

"Regulations about animal experimentation are extensive," she says with a small frown, "I'm fairly sure that an embassy legally being sovereign soil of another nation technically side-steps all of those regulations, but I'll have to look into it for you before we can be sure. I assume this is for something Actigall is doing?"

"Yes," you say with a nod, "Though you should ask him if you want the details. We'll also want a primate, as close to human as possible for testing purposes."

"...That'll be even harder to get," Miss Sharp says, "There's a few smaller species of monkey that are commercially available as pets, but anything large enough to be dangerous is much harder to get a hold of. I know Chimpanzees are used for near-human testing, and the only companies that sell them do so for research purposes or zoos, not to private customers…"

She pauses a moment, rolling her eyes.

"Though as usual, I'm sure anyone with enough money can persuade them to take a purchase."

The Ravnicans (and you) bringing gold and platinum currency has certainly made an impression on the woman.

What path to pursue the two living specimens?

[] Work with Ms. Sharp and Elias to get them through 'normal' channels.

[] Money talks.

[] You could go visit Africa under your own power, couldn't you?

[X] Work with Ms. Sharp and Elias to get them through 'normal' channels.

((()))

Miss Sharp's initial prediction turns out to have been more or less correct. Since the Embassy is considered sovereign territory of Ravnica, nothing you do on it with animals is subject to US law or regulation about animal experimentation.

However, as Elias puts it 'That doesn't mean we can't proactively demonstrate good faith.'

He spends about three days jousting with the Washington bureaucracy, getting passed around various levels of 'I wish I could help you, but that's not my job/department,' Miss Sharp helping as she can. In the end, he decides that leaving a paper trail about trying to jump through the appropriate hoops is the best he can reasonably accomplish, and asks Miss Sharp to find a trustworthy observer along for Actigall's experiment instead.

"I'll get a volunteer from the Humane Society," Miss Sharp declares, "If you want national recognition, it's them or PETA, and the best you can hope for from PETA is misguided idealists. Humane Society volunteers actually know the harder side of taking care of animals."

"We'll trust your expertise on this," Elias says, "Though this still leaves the difficulty in actually acquiring the creatures we need."

"We can just get the lizard from an exotic pet store," you chip in, "I found one online partway between here and Boston. I haven't found any public sellers of chimpanzees who'll sell unless you've got the paperwork for being a certified research firm."

"Well," Miss Sharp says, "That leaves either finding a private collector, or sourcing one from overseas. Ten years ago, I could probably have found you a couple of reasonably trustworthy sources in Africa, but the parahuman warlords in sub-saharan Africa have turned the whole region into a hot mess.

"There's probably a couple of reasonably reliable suppliers in India still, but you'd still have to go to close the deal in person if you want to make sure you aren't getting scammed. If you're outside North America, Europe, and what's left of Japan, physical currency rather than digital transfer or checks are generally required."

"I'll leave actually acquiring the creatures to you," Elias says, nodding towards you, "Don't commit yourself to anything foolishly dangerous though."

"I'm as interested in keeping my scales intact as anyone else," you reply dryly.

((()))

You spend another half-day researching where you could get a chimpanzee online, and deeper looking finds a few options available.

First, you have the locations and addresses that a few companies in Africa used to operate out of. It's possible some of them are still active, just incommunicado due to the rampant violence and turmoil across most of the continent destroying so much infrastructure. Some of them were right on the western coast though, so they're fairly close, such as things go.

Second, it's pretty easy to get locations for the natural ranges of chimps in Africa. You could just go look yourself. The advantage this is you avoid the focal points of conflict in Africa (generally cities), the disadvantage is you have to actually find them yourself.

Third, there's apocryphal reports of a group of chimps living in the forests of Florida/neighboring states, made up of escapees from zoos and private collections. You have no idea if it's true, or even what county they're in if they are there, but on the upside there's little to no risk to safety.

Fourth, you could go to India. There's no native chimp population there, but there are other species of monkey less closely-related to humans. The upside is that India does have a fairly stable government, so you don't have to worry about some warlord deciding you'd make a good 'recruit' or trophy. The downside is that the local cape culture has conflicts every bit as bad as Brockton Bay did, but with much larger numbers, and slightly better discretion about not tearing into each other in places where nasty collateral damage is a threat.

Finally, there are a number of southeast Asian countries that could also supply non-chimp monkeys, but most of those are under varying levels of influence or infiltration by the CUI. The Vietnamese are famous for their fierce resistance to Chinese aggression, but the rest of the region exists in a detente of not accepting 'imperial legitimacy' of the new Chinese Emperor, but not trying to get the Yang-Ban to show up in their borders either.

What does Taylor do?

[] Try to find an African Vendor.

[] Try to find a Chimp herself.

[] Look for the totally-not-sasquatches in Florida.

[] Off to India!

[] Off to SE Asia.

[X] Look for the totally-not-sasquatches in Florida.

AN: Sorry about delayed update. Allergy season is acting up again, and while I don't feel bad, my energy levels have crashed, and I've been sleeping 3+ extra hours in a day, still feeling exhausted.

((()))

1000 miles from the DC area will get you to pretty much any part of Florida. There's the nominal risk of being off-target due to your lack of familiarity with the area, but fortunately pictures are enough for you to Teleport in over Jacksonville.

The first thing that hits you when you arrive is the sheer humidity of the place. Maryland and DC aren't exactly 'dry,' but it's still Spring up there, while southern Florida feels like it's already in the hotter parts of Summer.

The heat is the second thing to come to your attention, thermals everywhere as you spread your wings and don't even need to flap as you glide a few hundred feet above the city. Being able to just glide along is nice, especially as you get used to the sun hitting you a lot harder than you're used to in either Brockton or Ravnica. It's not unpleasant, scales don't burn the same way skin does, but it's not at all what you're used to.

Once you've spent a minute or so getting your bearings, you head away from the city, moving South inland, towards where the local monkey enclaves are supposed to be.

There are four confirmed species in the wild, Rhesus and Crab-eating Macaques, 'Common Squirrel Monkeys,' and Vervet Monkeys. None of them are even remotely close to human sized, but Vervets are used in some tests because they're similar to humans as far as social behaviors go, and Macaques are used in more physical testing.

You're heading for 'Ocklawaha River,' which you have no idea how to pronounce, which is where Rhesus Macaques are supposed to be. If you can't find any there, Silver Springs State Park is further to the southwest; if you can't find any there, you'll probably give the whole thing up as a bad job.

Before you even manage to cruise past the city limits, some local parahuman flies up to meet you; you manifest Force Screen as a precaution (Inertial Armor being sufficiently long-lasting that you just keep it up any time you're not in a safe place), and cautiously wait to see their intentions.

In the style of Earth Bet heroes, the approaching man has a sleek armored costume, gray armored sections over a white undersuit. Like many parahumans, there's no apparent source to his thrust, no wings, no engines, just zipping on up towards you.

"Ho there!" he calls, in a voice that's trying a little too hard to be deep, "You're a new face for Jacksonville."

"It's my first time visiting," you say after a moment's thought, "I'm just passing through on my way to look for some monkeys."

"...Can't say I was expecting that response," he says, pulling up alongside you, "I'm Jaguar Jordan; you are?"

"Bookwyrm," you reply, waving at him, "I assume you're a local hero?"

"You're that healer that big fuss up in New England was about!" he says, snapping his fingers, "Seeing you in person, I guess the name makes sense. I am with the local Protectorate, was out on patrol, and caught sight of you."

"Well," you say, "I'm not here to cause trouble, so you can get back to your patrol."

Jaguar chuckles at that, revealing the normal timbre of his voice, which is a touch high-pitched for a man, but not enough so that you understand why he'd try to fake it being lower.

"If I didn't know you were an affiliate," he says, "That's the exact kind of thing that would get me to follow you as long as you were in the area."

"If you want to watch me try to catch a monkey," you say with a shrug, "You can come along, so long as you can stay quiet."

"Sounds a lot more interesting than another dull patrol," Jaguar laughs, "And when I'm at lower speeds, my flight is soundless, so I think I will come with."

"...Okay then?" you say, a bit surprised by his decision, "Don't you have criminals to deal with?"

"If something comes up, dispatch will alert me," he says, tapping his helmet over his ear, "It's… right, you're from Brockton Bay."

"I'm not sure how that's relevant," you say, shrugging as you start picking up your pace a little.

"Cape geeks have known for years the Brockton was the, ah, armpit of America," he says, and you're fairly sure he had a less polite term in mind, "When it came to cape gangs and crime in general. For whatever reason, while you got the occasional article about it, none of the big news networks ever really focused on it, not until 'D-Day Boogaloo' a few months ago."

"D-day Boogaloo?" you ask, glancing at him with some amusement, "The big PRT op that finally went and cleared the E88 out?"

"Exactly," Jaguar says with a nod, "Like, I knew in vague terms there were some fascist-themed capes up there, but I'd kinda assumed it was like gangs here in Florida. Three or four capes, maybe a half-dozen, and with enough sense in their skulls to mostly keep their heads down, and have their turf fights at night in secret, maybe inside a warehouse."

"Why would they do that?" you ask, continuing to accelerate.

"Because otherwise the law would come down on them like a ton of bricks," Jaguar says, shaking his head, keeping pace without any sign of strain, "I had no clue that they had fifteen capes, more than twice the entire Protectorate line-up for the city. That shit was unreal to hear about, especially when it wasn't until after they'd festered there for years and someone finally brought the hammer down on them."

"So you don't have open cape fights in the streets in Jacksonville?" you ask.

"Maybe every couple of months?" Jaguar says with a shrug, "And it's rarely more than two or three, who always break it up quick. I'm our fastest first-response, and I've collared three villains just by showing up to literally grab them by the collar. There's a certain minimum threshold of stupid it takes to be a career criminal, but there's also a maximum threshold, where they're too dumb to stay on the streets long."

"When law enforcement is capable of actually putting them away," you comment.

"Which is almost everywhere in the country," Jaguar says, "There's some places where politicians get up to corrupt shit, and apparently Brockton was one of them, but everywhere else, the police and PRT have absolutely overwhelming force compared to any group of thugs, and that's before you bring in the National Guard or the feds."

"Director Armstrong did say Brockton Bay was a lot worse than Boston," you say with a frown, "What's crime fighting in Jacksonville like?"

That turns out to be a subject he's willing to go on about at some length, enough to get you to your first destination and then some.

Meta-vote, see Jaguar's description?

[] Yes, hear about crime-fighting in Jacksonville.

[] No, skip to monkey hunt.

[X] Yes, hear about crime-fighting in Jacksonville.

((()))

"Most days the nastiest thing I have to deal with," Jaguar says, flying on his back and facing towards you, "Is calling in a speeder or what looks like a drunk driver to the regular fuzz. I might see a mugging or purse-snatcher; there's always some idiot who thinks they're a lot sneakier than they really are, and if I'm on night patrol there's decent odds I'll be able to catch a drug deal."

"...I'm jealous," you say frankly, "Cape fights weren't super common back in Brockton, but the low-ranked thugs were usually roughing people up in a mugging pretty much every day, and fighting each other at least once a week."

"It isn't strange to hear about idiots getting into street brawls in the nastier parts of town," Jaguar says with a frown, "But that's more like once a month, and actual muggings are rare. Pick-pockets are more of a problem here, and that's the PD's jurisdiction, not ours."

"It's not exactly a violent crime anyways," you say, resisting the urge to shake your head; you're flying fast enough now that changing your aerodynamic profile that much is a bad idea, "What are actual cape fights like?"

"I probably see the most action," Jaguar says, "Since I'm a pretty fast flier, and as a Brute 7, I can tangle with most things without much fear. If a cape fight lasts long enough for me to show up, it's usually either two enemies that are pretty closely matched, or a running fight as someone tries to disengage and doesn't really succeed."

He pauses a little and smirks.

"Those can actually get pretty ridiculous," he continues, "Blasters and a few Shakers are generally the only ones who can have a running fight at range, and it's rare for two Movers to fight, so unless a Master has high-speed minions, you're basically looking at a car chase. Most people are shit with guns, and shooting while moving, at a moving target, means they're probably not going to hit shit either."

"Sounds like something out of Hollywood," you say.

"It's almost disgustingly close to that," Jaguar says, shaking his head without disrupting his flight, "Frankly, most rolling shoot-outs in movies have the characters more accurate. Not a lot of parahumans bother practicing with guns at all, much less enough to be good with them on the move, so they're frankly a lot more dangerous to everyone else in the area than each other."

"That's kind of sick," you say.

"It is," Jaguar says with a sigh, "Car chases are some of the easiest things to deal with. I'm a lot tougher than I am strong, but it's pretty easy to reach into a car and rip out the keys, especially when you're immune to most bullets.

"There was one running battle with two blasters in cars, but they wrecked each other before I could catch up. I mostly just had to pry their remains out of the cars."

"Remains?" you say, "Neither of them survived?"

"No," Jaguar said, shaking his head, "Blasters with Brute powers are very rare, and wrecking a car that's going fifty or more is pretty dangerous business. The one who got hit first was smart enough to wear his seat-belt and survived the crash, took a shot at the other guy as he closed in to confirm the kill, then cut himself up on shattered glass crawling out.

"Autopsy said he was high on PCP, and already had internal bleeding before he slashed his hands and knees up. Hit the other guy right in the head with his plasma burst though, killed him instantly."

"That sounds a lot more lethal than what usually happened in Brockton," you say.

"Most capes who last the first few fights get pretty cautious," Jaguar says, "Even Brutes like me can't be completely careless. Plasma will kill me just as well as anyone else; probably be more painful in fact. Experienced capes mostly skirmish, and withdraw if they can't find a decisive advantage. Capes that don't die pretty quickly."

"What about capes powerful enough to survive being reckless?" you ask.

"Incredibly rare," Jaguar says, "And if they cause enough trouble, then one of the Triumvirate come for a visit, and that's pretty much the end of that. I'm honestly confused why the disaster zone in Brockton lasted as long as it did."

"So am I," you say with a frown, "What's the biggest cape fight you've been in?"

"Got called down to Miami to support an anti-drug-runner operation," he says, "They had three parahumans protecting one of their dinky little 'submarines' that can't even properly submerge. The Coast Guard got word that they had cape muscle, so they wanted fliers or people with defensive powers to support them."

"How'd it go?" you ask.

"It was pretty hairy," Jaguar says grimly, "I wasn't in much danger myself, but their capes were a Blaster, a Shaker with gravity-manipulation powers, and a Thinker who had some kind of sense for where people and things are, that warned them we were coming, and let him shoot RPGs with nasty accuracy.

"He managed to get two hits on the Coast Guard cutter past Ironclad's barriers, killed a couple people, injured a lot more. Didn't help them much when the cutter's five-inch gun landed a hit; I think we fished four of them out of the water, and only two survived."

"That sounds like a monthly or seasonal fight in the Bay," you say, this time shaking your head as you begin to slow down, "How long have you been caping?"

"Six years," Jaguar says, "Are we here already?"

"Getting there," you say, "Now let's see…"

How to try to find and catch a monkey?

[] Fly over until you find one to try to swoop down onto.

[] Go down to the forest floor and try to be at least somewhat stealthy.

[X] Fly over until you find one to try to swoop down onto.

AN: None of the options were 'traps,' I was wondering whether someone would think to write-in using Invisibility, and think about whether or not it was an ability you wanted to reveal to the Protectorate.

((()))

Deciding to take the high approach, you slow down about as much as you can without stalling, and start searching the treetops for monkeys.

"So," Jaguar asks, keeping his voice low, and sweeping the trees with his own eyes, "What do you want a monkey for anyways? Odd dietary requirement?"

"Power test for someone else," you say, shaking your head, "We want to make sure it won't have adverse effects on humans. Because legal bureaucracy is bullshit, it's legal for us to use a monkey, but it'll be weeks or months before any of the companies that sell animals for testing would actually do it."

"Ah," Jaguar says, nodding sagely, "The single biggest argument against joining the Protectorate, paperwork."

You nod slightly, your attention now mostly on the trees below. Unsurprisingly, just reaching the correct area doesn't mean you immediately spot monkeys, but it doesn't take long before you start hearing something that's definitely not the kind of forest noise you're used to.

Unfortunately, when you bank around in that direction, what you find is a frog on a riverbank. Not a species you've seen up in New England, but given you're a thousandish miles away, that isn't exactly surprising, is it?

On the plus side, flying along the river valley, shallow as it is, lets you see into the forest canopy laterally, which is a lot easier than trying to spot things through the leaves from above. It only takes a couple more minutes to catch non-squirrel movement in the tree branches after that.

"Left," you say quietly, and Jaguar's head snaps around, taking a couple moments to catch sight of your target as well, "I'll have to smash through some of the smaller branches to get into there, but-"

"Let me handle it for you," Jaguar says, raising a hand, before rocketing towards the small colony of monkeys.

...He is a lot smaller than you, and won't need to go into a semi-controlled dive because of the need to tuck wings in. You'll let him give it a shot.

He slips almost-soundlessly between the riverside trees and their branches, but still doesn't manage to get within fifty feet before the monkeys spot him, and scatter in a mass of shrieking chaos.

The chase is on!

...You're glad you didn't try this; those monkeys are very maneuverable among the tree branches, and Jaguar ends up smashing his way through a good few branches himself.

He does catch one of the monkeys though, wrapping a hand firmly around its neck and upper body, which he somewhat sheepishly drags back out of the forest, to where you've perched on a felled tree that's sticking out over the river.

"Well," he says, trying to make his voice sound deeper than it actually is again, "A bit harder than it looked, but I got one… You only needed the one, right?"

"Yes," you say with a laugh, extending a large claw to take the scrabbling little thing from him, "Just the one."

"Right then," he says, shaking his head, "We can get back to Jacksonville in plenty of time to finish what's left of my patrol. I assume you have some means of contacting whatever teammate teleported you down here?"

What say?

[] Nothing, just wave and teleport out.

[] "Actually, that won't be necessary; thank you for your help this far." Then teleport out.

[] Go along with the ruse that you can't Teleport, and follow him back to town.

[X] Go along with the ruse that you can't Teleport, and follow him back to town.

((()))

Unfortunately, you don't have any spells or Psionic powers capable of safely rendering the monkey unconscious, and you're not exactly keen on trying to use physical force, given how small and fragile the thing is.

Consequently, after less than a minute of flight, the monkey decides that being quiet and playing dead isn't helping, so it starts shrieking, rendering continued conversation with Jaguar functionally impossible. He keeps flying along back towards Jacksonville with you for a few moments, before shaking his head and accelerating.

"I'm glad I could help you get the thing!" he shouts, "But I'm not staying around it any longer than I need to! Bye!"

So-saying, he pulls away from you rapidly, receding into little more than a dot in the distant sky, and not long after that, slipping out of sight completely.

"I should learn Silence," you grumble to yourself; you try shaking the monkey a few times, but it just shrieks louder.

After a couple minutes, you determine that pushing the limit of just how fast you can fly at least dulls the sound a little, the rushing wind both tearing away some of it, and force yourself to just hurry back to Jacksonville as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, there are some relatively low clouds in the area when you get back to Jacksonville, so you're able to simply wing your way up out of sight before casting Teleport.

((()))

"It's much smaller than I would have preferred," Actigall says, shaking his head as he looks down at the Macaque he's magically stunned, "But I suppose if it survives, that's a clear indicator that a more robust humanoid would survive. How long will it take you to get the lizard?"

"A couple of hours," you say with a shrug, "Just a quick flight over to an exotic pet store."

"Excellent," Actigall says with a smile, "I'll set the experiment up for this evening."

"You wouldn't happen to have a scroll, wand, or potion that could let me stun the lizard?" you ask, "That'll make getting it back here a lot easier."

"I'll have Clare pass you something," Actigall says, "She's dealt with uncooperative test subjects for much of her career."

((()))

The trip to the pet shop is pleasantly mundane; the worst you have to deal with is people staring at you. Fortunately, nobody jumps to the conclusion that you're a villain, so things are just awkward, rather than dangerous.

Four figures seems really steep to you as an American who grew up middle-class, but in terms of gold, it's less than five pieces. Some currency exchange rates are hard to wrap your mind around the practicalities of, even if the math is simple multiplication.

When you get back to the embassy site, a large tent has been erected, and Actigall is inside of it, setting up a double-layered spell circle. The inner circle you can easily identify as relating to dimensional transfer, the other is a dense mixture of Abjuration, most likely intended to keep any side-effects from leaking out.

It's not as impressive as the setup back at the Izzet laboratories were, but it certainly shows that he's been doing a lot of preparation to try to make sure that even if something does go wrong, it'll result in frustration rather than disaster.

Miss Sharp is present, alongside someone in a costume you vaguely recognize, doubtless as observers.

"Bookwyrm!" the cape greets in a jovial tone, stepping forward and offering you his hand, "I'm Radius, here for observation and security. It's good to know there's a healer in town."

"And it's always good to have some extra security," you reply, not entirely sure how to respond, "You've been briefed on what Actigall will be attempting?"

"Travel to an unknown Earth," Radius says with a nod, "We still aren't entirely clear on how Ravnican 'magic' and parahuman powers interact, but mine establishes circular barriers that have been impermeable to pretty much everything, unless they get overwhelmed. I understand you're something of a grab bag?"

"Somewhat," you say, "Healing in case of injury is the only immediately relevant ability I have. What-"

"It's time," Actigall calls, gesturing for silence as he steps back from the spell circles, "If any of you have aversions to eldritch or extra-dimensional imagery, you'd best leave the tent now."

"...Is that a problem?" Miss Sharp asks.

"Some people vomit when they see more dimensions than they're used to," you say with a shrug, "And Conjuration magic is built around moving or tearing through dimensional boundaries."

"I can't say I have any known aversion," Radius says dryly, "Let's hope that I won't. What's going to happen?"

Actigall starts his chant.

"He's going to try sending the tree and two animals through a momentary dimensional rupture," you explain quietly, "The collars he's put on them are enchanted to bring them back thirty seconds later, through a recasting of the spell with the targeting coordinates basically reversed."

"The full explanation he gave me was much more verbose," Miss Sharp says with a faint smile, "Thank you for being succinct."

You raise a claw and everyone falls silent; a moment later, there's a flash of light, and the three spell targets are gone.

"Rupture formation as expected," Benzo declares, his eyes glowing with an Arcane Eyes spell, "It's re-sealing at slower rates than tests done on Ravnica."

"Expected," Clare replies, "There was some unexpected flux in how the spell lattice connected to the different targets. Might not get the tree back."

"Nothing to do but wait to know for sure," Actigall says tersely, his own eyes glowing now as he stares at the circle.

A few moments later, there's another flash of light, and the monkey and lizard are back. The monkey is shrieking and immediately tries to escape from the tent, but Clare grabs it with a paralyzing touch spell before it can get anywhere.

The lizard is almost motionless, twitching on the ground, and it only takes you a moment to realize that it's dying.

"Bookwyrm," Actigall calls tersely, and you leap forward to heal it.

"It'll live," you say, carefully probing the lizard as your Lesser Vigor spell slowly patches it back together, the internal bleeding already long since stopped, "This is nothing like the wounds we saw when we arrived here from Ravnica, it looks like nasty fall damage more than anything else."

"What's the telling sign for that?" Miss Sharp asks, staring down at the lizard with some restrained distaste.

"Damage across almost the entire body," you say, waving your claw from its tail up to its head, "If it was more concentrated, it could have just been hit by a blunt weapon, run over by a car, or maybe stepped on by an elephant. The fact that it had broken bonus and burst flood vessels under its scales up and down the whole length of its body, that most likely means falling and hitting the ground hard."

"How likely is 'most likely'?" Radius asks.

"I'm not a professional veteranarian," you say with a shrug, "And obviously I'm not cutting it open for an autopsy. Maybe there's something else that can hurt it like this that I'm just not familiar with; that's my best guess though."

"Given the monkey came back entirely intact," Actigall says, approaching and using a spell to ensure the lizard doesn't start struggling once it is fully recovered, "And is much lighter and more agile, this seems to be a reasonable conclusion. Bookwyrm, if the lizard requiress no further healing, I need you to go and look for our tree.

"It's impossible to be certain until we find it, but the best spell inspection I've been able to manage suggests the tree was also returned, it simply came back off-target, much in the way that a Teleport may be."

"...It could be off by miles," you point out, "And a fair bit of the surrounding land is forested."

"Yes," Actigall says with a grimace, "I will be attempting scrying to locate it, but if that fails, or it's relatively close by, your flight and eyes make you by far best able to find it swiftly."

"...Alright then," you sigh, shaking your head and heading towards the tent exit, "I'll go have a look around."

"Thank you," Actigall says as you leave.

You don't particularly mind going out for another flight, but if the tree was off by a substantial margin, it could take days of searching to find it, and that's presuming it didn't appear inside of some structure or another.

...Once you're up in the air, it takes you less than a minute to locate it in the next field over, just on the other side of one of the exurb residential streets.

Rolling your eyes, you swoop down to collect it in your claws, and then wing your way back to the tent.

((()))

A second round of the same test is set up within an hour; you're a bit surprised at how quickly it's pulled together, but given 'falling damage' is the only expected hazard, a quick casting of Feather Fall deals with the issue.

The second round brings back three fully-intact test subjects, though you do need to go and fetch the tree from the neighboring field again, suggesting something in the targeting section of the spell matrix is having trouble. You suspect it's related to how many fewer trees there are in Ravnica compared to Earth Bet, or at least this part of it.

Actigall repeats the test a third time before he's satisfied with the results. After that he and the other two Guildmages disappear into their basement lab, with word that he'll probably be ready for sapient testing 'next week.'

[X] Grinding for GED.

AN: I really had not expected this option to get many votes, much less win, but I'll just treat this as a challenge.

((()))

"One of the strangest things in modern pop culture," Wencelas says, "Is how easily economics is side-lined, or conflated with sociology. I partly blame how many schools have jettisoned Home Economics classes, but that definitely isn't the only reason, and I just don't have enough information to know for sure.

"We'll start with the basics; what has more value, a glass of water, or a glass of diamonds?"

"Diamonds, obviously," Emma replies immediately, "I assume there's a trick to the question?"

"Somewhat," Wencelas says, "In most circumstances, you'd be right, but what to a man who is literally dying of thirst?"

"Then obviously the water," Emma says, "I'm guessing the lesson is about different things are different levels of important in different situations?"

"Precisely," Wencelas says with a nod, "At one point, significant parts of the world valued salt just as highly as gold. Now, between salt mines and byproducts from desalination, salt costs less than a dollar per pound, while gold goes for hundreds of dollars to the ounce."

"Technology changes the value of things," Emma says with a nod, "But it's not the only thing."

"Indeed," Wencelas says, "The two most fundamental factors in economics are supply and demand. You could be the only source of albino turkeys in the world, but if they taste terrible, you're not going to sell many. A few people might buy them for the novelty value, but that's it. Conversely, everyone in the world not just wants, but needs air to breathe, but since the supply is built into the planet, and plants renew it without human labor being required, nobody is selling air."

"They do sell pure Oxygen though, right?" Emma asks.

"They do," Wencelas nods, "And it has specialist uses in industry, medicine, scientific experimentation, rocketry, etc. You can bet your ass though, if all the companies and individuals working in those fields could get the same work done with normal air, they wouldn't pay the expense for getting pure Oxygen supplied.

"Let me frame it from another perspective. Have you ever met the Amish?"

"No," Emma says.

"Yes," you say, "But only for like, half an hour. We stopped at one of their little fresh produce places off the highway on Summer vacation once."

"Members of the Amish community have made a commitment not to depend on technology that they cannot recreate or repair themselves," Wencelas says, "That's simplifying it pretty seriously, but I respect the fact that if the entire world underwent a complete economic collapse, the worst thing they'd have to deal with is desperate refugees and beggars asking them for food. How much do you think one of the Amish be willing to pay for a smart phone?"

"Nothing," you say, "Even if it is a ridiculously capable device, and can cost a couple grand for other people."

"Precisely," Wencelas says, "In a similar way, Emma wouldn't have much use for a full set of football pads, football players aren't likely to spend much money on anything at a Claire's, much less make-up."

"Unless they're buying something for their girlfriend," Emma says with a smirk.

"Gifts are relevant to how economics work," Wencelas says, "But that isn't a new source of demand. I think the basic point about how different resources have different values, and it's based on how much people want them, you understand?"

Both of you nod.

"Good," Wencelas says, "Now, the full depth and breadth of how supply and demand can interact is an entire profession in and of itself. Doctoral students can specialize in studying how it all plays out within a single industry. The important basic concept I need driven into your skulls, is that the more people want something, and the less of it there is, the more the cost goes up."

"And the more of something there is," Emma says with a nod, "And the less people want it, the less it costs."

"Exactly," Wencelas says, "If I had my way, this would be taught in grade school, it's not like it's a hard concept. The next concept I'm going to try to get through to you, is relative personal value. Emma, do you know how much money your father makes?"

Emma shakes her head.

"As a non-partner lawyer in New England," Wencelas says, "He probably makes within the average range of two to five hundred thousand dollars a year. Let me show you something."

He turns his laptop around, and shows an online property listing for a fancy-looking manor-house. It's huge, with a half-dozen bedrooms, a library, an indoor pool, two kitchens, and a small personal theater. The price listing is just over five hundred thousand dollars.

"Now," Wencelas says, "I don't know where in the range, or even outside of it, your father's income lies. But let's say he makes right at the top of it, five hundred grand a year. Why hasn't he bought something like this?"

"...Taxes?" Emma guesses.

"That probably factors into it," Wencelas laughs, "But the key here is something else."

"He has a lot more to spend money on each year than just a house," you say.

"Exactly," Wencelas says with a nod, "Some things are necessities; food, water, shelter. Some are functionally necessities in a modern society; transportation, electricity, internet. Past that, there are many more things that we want for basic quality-of-life matters, like a couch to sit on instead of the floor, or outright luxuries, like a big-screen TV, a nice sound-system, the jacuzzi tub in your parents' master bathroom, etc.

"If your father had unlimited money, I'm sure he would buy an outright mansion for himself, a sports car, take vacations to exotic parts of the world every year, etc. But this four bedroom house in a nice part of town gives him enough of what he wanted, at the cost asked for, or maybe that he negotiated down to, that he was reasonably happy with the purchase. Here-"

He takes his laptop back, and brings up an image of a graphed upward curve, before turning it so the two of you can see it again. The Y-axis is marked 'Cost,' the X-axis is marked 'Personal Value.'

"-Economists talk about how demand is infinite," Wencelas continues, "And in abstract that's true. If we could, everyone would live in fabulous mansions, eat the finest food, enjoy the best entertainment, wear the most stylish clothes, etc. Everyone wants to go as far to the right on this graph as they can-

He drags his finger along the line towards the right, gradually moving upwards with the line.

"-Getting a nicer and nicer home, or literally anything else, but sooner or later the money runs out-"

He stops his finger where the curve steepens to about forty-five degrees.

"-And you hit the point where what you're buying has as much personal value as what you're willing to pay for. One of the most important things for young adults to learn-"

He taps a button on his laptop, and a dozen other curves, each drawn in different colors, pop up on his graph.

"-Is that when you're an adult, you're going to have to make these kinds of decisions in competition for each other in each part of your life."

"You can buy the most fashionable dress for the Summer," Emma nods, "But will you have any money in the budget for Fall fashion in a couple months?"

"Yes," Wencelas nods, "But more than that, will you have enough money for food? Would you rather live in a studio apartment and eat well, or in a nice two-bedroom house, and eat nothing but rice and beans while you make the mortgage payments?

"Conversely, if that two-bedroom house is in a safe part of town, but the studio apartment is in the middle of ABB territory, is it worth eating nothing but rice and beans in exchange for the safety?"

"This sounds really complicated," Emma says with a grimace.

"It is," Wencelas agrees, "Having a good understanding of economics, finances, and accounting will help you understand how much money is really worth, and what you can actually do with it, but it's just information. You have to make a personal value judgment about what you want to do with your money; skill with economics will help you use your dollars to fill that objective as best you can."

((()))

AN: This one kind of ran away with me. Whenever I get to a part of a story like this, I find myself wanting to put in something I wish someone had taught me when I was still in school. I mean, I figured it out for myself, but stuff this basic should be taught explicitly, not just implicitly.

It's one thing to tell people 'budgeting is important,' it's another thing to explain why beyond 'you don't want to run out of money.' Everyone knows you don't want to run out of money, but a better framework helps someone resist their 'I want thing now' impulses because you've planned for a thing you know you'll want later.

Unfortunately, a significant chunk of what you go through for the GED in particular is pretty dull. Aside from the basic mathematics and grammar, most of it is fairly useless rote learning. Regurgitate some dates, name some historical figures, name a few laws (both scientific and legal), but no questions about what they actually mean, or why they are the way they are.

Fortunately, your memory is pretty good at this point, so going over the material twice and taking notes lodges everything in your head fairly firmly.

Most of the rest of your time is spent helping Emma wrap her mind around things. She's not slow, in point of fact her IQ is a little bit above average. You've always been better than Emma at book learning, but now the discrepancy between the two of you is large enough it's a little embarrassing.

At least she doesn't seem to be embarrassed by it.

Shortly after the evening's tutoring session ends, there's a pleasant surprise; Melissa arrives at the Barnes'. She doesn't live horribly far away, but you know it's well past Boston, so driving down here must have taken at least four or five hours.

"Taylor," Melissa says, surprising you a little bit with a very aggressive hug, "It's so good to see you again!"

"Good to see you too," you reply, "What brings you down to Brockton?"

"Partly to visit friends," Melissa says, her emotions playing out in the shadows moving across her skin, "And partly to try to get help or advice, maybe both. The PRT is trying to recruit me."

"Recruit you?" you reply, "That's…"

You're not entirely sure what to make of that. Back on Ravnica, recruiting young teenagers as apprentices, cadets, message-runners and the like, is not just normal, but expected. Here on Earth Bet, an ambitious teen might get their first part-time job at sixteen, but nobody expects anything more serious than working a cash register or stocking shelves.

"For the Wards," Melissa explains, "I can't really hide that I'm a Parahuman now, and while they haven't quite been pushy, they've been pretty persistent."

"Well," Emma says, stepping in for a hug of her own, before leading the taller girl upstairs towards her bedroom, "Do you want to join the Wards?"

"I do like the idea of becoming a law officer," Melissa says, "But if you join the Wards, they basically take control of most of your life, and while you aren't required to join the Protectorate afterwards, Mouse Protector was literally the only case of a hero who didn't that I could find online.

"Most importantly, I don't think they'd let me go back to Ravnica, and I want to train more with the Boros."

"...You want to go back to Ravnica with me in two and a half months?" you say, caught a little off-guard.

"Yes," Melissa says, something fierce in her voice, "I've agreed with my parents not to; but the next time after that, I'd like to."

"Uh," you say, "I'm not even sure when the next time I'm coming back will be."

"Then you clearly haven't thought it through," Melissa says, shaking her head sharply, "I know you're smart enough that if you had, it'd be obvious. At least three of the Guilds are pretty committed to doing business with Earth Bet, so they'll be coming back and forth as often as they can. You're not dead-set on not doing it, so even if you don't like the idea for whatever reason, they'll have big enough carrots to get you to keep making the trip."

"...Yeah," you agree with a nod, "They do. So, what advice did you want from me?"

"Well," Melissa says, the intensity in her voice and posture fading, "I was hoping there was some easy magical or Psionic way to, well…"

She gestures to her face, which is currently crossed by wavy lines of darkly pigmented skin, the waves slowly subsiding down towards her neck.

"You can't really go out in public without being taken as a cape," Emma says, "Or if you're lucky, someone who's been subject to some cape's experiment."

"Yeah," Melissa says with a sigh, "I'd been worried how my parents would react to what I look like now; thankfully they were just worried it was hurting me, but I hadn't really put much thought into how I can't really go out in public, and I've only had my best friend back home visit me. I'm not sure who else I'd trust to keep quiet about what happened."

"If I remember right," you say, "Magic equipment will work properly on you, it just takes a little longer to attune, right?"

Melissa nods.

"I don't have a Hat of Disguise or anything like that," you say, "But I'm fairly sure the Izzet have the skill to either make, or help me make, something that could do the trick. But-"

"-But magic items are really expensive," Melissa says with a grimace and a nod, "Even something really 'cheap' would cost hundreds of thousand of dollars. I have a moderate amount of gold still from what the Izzet were paying me, and my parents are ready to mortgage the house if that's what it takes to let me go out in public again."

Something in your chest seizes at that, but you forcefully shove the jealousy aside and focus on the moment at hand.

Melissa has a serious need here. Apparently she's basically been a shut-in since she got home, and that's going to get rough to deal with, fast.

What do you want to do?

[] Just pass the request on to the Izzet. Given she wants to go back to Ravnica, they're probably willing to work out a deal with her.

[] Try to personally contribute to solving her problem. You know a fair bit about item crafting, even if you haven't practiced it much yet. That won't get rid of all the materials costs, but it'll help.

[] Recommend she just be a public cape