We're Here To Talk About Your Car's Extended Warranty...

[Will]

Even walking forward was a little odd at the moment, sort of like wading through knee-deep water.


The closest person to talk to was the faun, or whoever it was, sitting at the bus stop, casually flipping through a newspaper as he waited. At the very least, he seemed the least busy.

He flipped through some pages, ears twitching as he heard the two approach. He looked up for a moment, acknowledging them, and then scooted over a little bit, hooves clattering on the pavement, to make room on the bench.

[Miriam Bell]

"Great, we're in Narnia." Miriam mutters before putting on a more cordial tone.

"Hi there. You wouldn't happen to be able to tell us what this place is?"

[Will]

"Hrm? Oh, it's a bus stop. It's the, erm..." he said, squinting up at the sign. "The 37? I think that's the one that comes out this way? No. No, that's not right it's the, uh, 21242," he nodded.

"What are you two supposed to be?," he asked, conversationally.

[Miriam Bell]

"I don't think we're supposed to be anything other than ourselves."

[Samantha McManus]

"We're not really supposed to be here, but it wouldn't surprise me if there were a couple of people who looked like us somewhere around here."

[Will]

The faun frowned and cocked his head in confusion, as if they had given the wrong answer.

"Well, I'm fairly new, too," he said, after a pause. "But trust me, you're all welcome here. At least, I think we all are," he added after moment, absentmindly scratching the back of one leg. "They've been really nice so far, at least."

"Did you not...like, check in? Like, you're lost-lost, and not just wandering around?"

[Miriam Bell]

"No we're not even supposed to be here, I don't think. We're not.. part of this. We're not even Wills."

[Will]

The faun nodded, chewing on his lower lip for a minute.

"I think I see what you mean," he said, considering things. "This must be really confusing to you. But, sometimes the best solution is..." he said, reaching out as if to put one hand on Miriam's shoulder. And then, with a tug, he *pulled*.

Miriam's arm stretched out, elongating from bicep to elbow, thinning out as it went. The faun twisted a little, causing the appendage to curl in on itself, spiraling. And then, the faun *tugged*, and the entire thing popped off, leaving an exposed grey blob of clay where the socket should be.

He smiled a little abashedly, as if it was an entirely normal thing to suddenly rip someone's arm off.

[Samantha McManus]

"That... doesn't seem very helpful?"

[Will]

"It's a lot to take in, I know," the faun said, smiling up at Sam. "But it's OK! It's new, and it's scary, but you're in a safe space here. You can be a...goth lady? And a big muscular redhead? Red hair's kind of an odd choice," he added, "but I can't wait to learn more about it."

[Miriam Bell]

"Bloody hell!" she shouts in surprise. "Or... rather not?" she glances at the odd grey socket where her shoulder is supposed to be. "Wait, no no no, we're not..." she glances at her shoulder again.

"I better not be a Will who soaked up a little too much of Miriam's - of my - mind!"

[Will]

"I mean, maybe? It's possible to lose yourself so deeply in a form you forget who you really are. But if you know about us, then that doesn't seem...quite right," the faun said, scratching behind one ear. "You ARE an odd duck, aren't you?" he added, absentmindedly, twisting Miriam's detached arm and folding it in on itself.

Miriam's shoulder didn't have any pain -- if anything, there was just a slight tingling sensation where the arm stopped and the air began. A bit of clay dripped off the wound, but apparently...dissolved in midair before it could hit the floor?

[Samantha McManus]

"Okay so... the surface of the cauldron definitely has a function. And it probably doesn't know much else than doing... you know, that."

[Miriam Bell]

"Because it only knows Will and Will-related things. Which means it shouldn't be too hard to get back out, right? If it treats us like Wills?"

[Will]

"Okay so... the surface of the cauldron definitely has a function. And it probably doesn't know much else than doing... you know, that."

"It can be disorienting at first," the faun agreed. "There's a worry about being less special, like you're not one of a kind. That's kind of what I was worried about, me and the rest of the Wyldclay. But it turns out it's more of a... a found family sort of thing? Like, when you're so similar, the small differences you have matter even more. And everyone's so willing to share their stories. It's been quite...pleasant, really."

"I'm Will," he said, reaching out to shake Sam's hand, as if that wasn't a ridiculous thing to say.

"Because it only knows Will and Will-related things. Which means it shouldn't be too hard to get back out, right? If it treats us like Wills?"

"You're looking to get up and out? Alright," he said. "We'll take the bus into the middle of town, get you all sorted and ready to go. Sign you in, sign you out, the whole works. I guess I can show you around a bit."

[Samantha McManus]

"Sam," she says, shaking his hand.

"You've really never seen me before?"

[Will]

"Well, to tell you the truth, us from the Wyldclay? We're just settling in; we haven't been here long. I'm still getting the lay of the land myself. Give me a minute," Will said, closing his eyes and thinking.

"I think someone like you was mentioned at some point? Yeah, I'm sure of it," he said, trying to sound more sure than he felt. "Maybe there's a writeup in the paper..." he added, picking it back up. "Sssssaaaaammmm, Sam, Sam, Sam...I know there's something in here..."

[Miriam Bell]

"Could be that the paper or media is how they access shared memories?"

[Will]

"Oh, it's not the only way, but yeah, we write up our experiences and share them with one another," Will nodded. "Gotta get all the juicy details in there, right?"

Will showed the newspaper to Miriam. The front page had a photo of the Wyldclay and Will shaking hands with one another, staged and looking at the camera, along with an article that started detailing out aspects of the High Summer Court -- the first in a seven-part series, it promised. Various fae stories seemed to be the big important stories on the front, but other, regular features were further back in the paper -- an article talking about sales at Kneadful Creations, another going into detail about the various paperwork that had been filled out for ASHLIE regarding the ongoing development of Mutant Town. A point-counterpoint opinion column, with two writers arguing about the relative benefits of sugar versus honey as a sweetener, from the perspective of two different cups of coffee.. "15 people who used the recliner in the study hall; number seven will shock you!" And so on, and so forth.

"I've got a lot of back issues to catch up on," Will said, sheepishly. "That's actually why I'm waiting for the bus; I was going to check out the library. Not all of us really care about everything that was going on, but it seems like if I'm going to go over the top, it'd be good to have a quick refresher on who all is up there. It's different than the Society, or so I'm told."

[Samantha McManus]

"Then there's more of you that came with the Wyldclay than just the bastard that uses a whole can of Aquanet every morning."

[Will]

"Yuppp," Will said, popping the P as he spoke. "I mean, the Paragons are obviously the main ones of us," he continued, "And are the ones who kind of make up the main body, you know? The pieces of the whole, or so they try to tell us. The rest of us come as ... Passing fancies? Idle thoughts? New ideas, given physical form."

He paused for a moment smiling wistfully. "I never got his name, but he was at the bonfire on Lugnasadh, with a bottle of the most delectable dandelion wine. Sweet on the tongue, but not as sweet as his lips. I'm not usually one for beards, but it worked for him, my fingers running through it. And I wondered, from then, what it would be like to be him, living in that moment, playing those pipes. And so now I'm here! And because of this clay, this space, Ill get to go Up Top at some point and really experience it. And then I'll come down here and tell everyone about it. It's quite like paradise.

And if you two are new Paragons, rather than passing fancies? Then we'll get the best bits out of you once you're checked in. It will be good; you'll see." He nodded, tapping one hoof on the ground.

[Miriam Bell]

"Let's hope the process is tailored to the fancies and paragons..." Miriam mumbles, having been witness to Will's way of processing things in his mind.

[Samantha McManus]

"Thinking they don't have a concept for things winding up here that ought not be here."

"Because if they're here, then obviously..."

[Will]

"Well, of course you ought to be here. If not, you'd have drowned," Will laughed. "I mean, look at you. You're propagating through the clay. It's in you and around you and of you. If you didn't belong here, it would have filled your mouth and lungs and you would have choked to death on the pure, unfiltered source. Whether you're a paragon or an idle fancy, you belong here. You're part of us," he grinned, tapping his chest a couple times. "And we're part of one another."

Will took the remains of Miriam's arm, which he had been balling up and playing around with in his hands while the three were talking. It was now more of a tendril, or a tentacle, tapering to a smooth point at the end. With a sudden motion, he plunged it onto -- and very quickly into her side, Sam's own body giving way slightly as the clay of the arm and her side parted and melded and sealed together. Sam had experience with multiple limbs before, and with changing bodies, so this wouldn't be entirely unfamiliar, though there was perhaps more of a not-unpleasant pins-and-needles tingling sensation as her new tentacle-arm sort of locked into place. Presumably, this was how Will experienced his own shifting, which was of a distinctly different flavor to Sam and her normal reliance on "bones" and "tendons" and "the basic laws of human anatomy".

Will stepped back, pleased with himself, though he cocked his head to one side. "But...maybe not exactly the same as one another?"

[Miriam Bell]

"It's like the concept just slides off their mind, yeah." she agrees, eyeing Sam's new arm. "Yeah, sure, I didn't need that anyway."

[Samantha McManus]

"In fairness, I really don't think these are our bodies."

[Will]

"No, these are definitely your bodies," Will said. "And I am hearing you; I'm just trying to walk you through the five steps of the change curve. Denial is a very popular phase, it appears."

"But I do think you're different. From one another, at least. You, Sam," he said, pointing at Sam, "seem to be more...well, more. More adept with the clay. I think you're like a Paragon, while, uh, Will over here," he said, pointing to Miriam, "is more like me. Maybe she came out of your head originally?"

[Miriam Bell]

"Wow. Wow! We're going to have words about that later."

[Samantha McManus]

"I'll thank you not to imply that I hallucinated my girlfriend, even if you are a passing fancy."

[Miriam Bell]

"I might not be a paragon but I'm at least a fashionable trend." she huffs.

[Will]

"No no no!" Will said, throwing his own hands up. "I mean, I'm one of those, too, right? It's not a hallucination; the clay makes things real and permanent. Do you prick us, do we not bleed?

...Well, some of us don't, but we've chosen to exist as flesh and blood when we're Up Top. You know what I mean.

And hey, I could be wrong. Like I said, I'm not a Paragon; I just live here. I'm just a faun waiting for the bus to do some reading. Maybe you're both Paragons, and I can't tell. Maybe you're both just parts of the other guy, and something happened to scramble your brains up there. It certainly wouldn't be the FIRST time.

I mean, you fell in the middle of the street. That's not normal! Why don't I take you into the hub so we can get you checked out and checked in? Get everything sorted."

[Samantha McManus]

"...we're at least probably going to find someone more clued-in, there."

[Will]

"Well, one of us doesn't know what we're talking about. And maybe it IS me. But I suspect it's not only me, at the very least. You didn't even know where you were!" he chuckled, rapping his knuckles atop Sam's head and leaving a faint indentation in her hair.

"C'mon, we'll give you the nickel tour."

And indeed, around the corner came a playful beep and honk, as a bizarre elongated vehicle rounded the corner, swaying from side to side slightly as it cruised up the street. Will's face was in sort of a turret on the roof, spinning around to look for people who needed a ride.

Will stuck his hand out, waving down the bus, which trundled to a stop in front of the trio. He waved to the bus itself, which smiled back at them as it continued to spin around. The door squeaked open, stairs morphing out of the metal of the bus to allow for the three to enter.

The bus was big enough to hold a bunch of passengers, but it was mostly empty. The trio would double the number of visible passengers. There was a large, green orc lady with a brass ring in her nose, resting one arm against the window and taking up most of one bench. There was a woman who looked more like the Will that would hang out in their apartment when they wanted their girlfriend around, flipping through a book. There was a half-boy, half-bat creature, his talons piercing the roof of the bus as he hung upside down over the center of the aisle. That, apart from a bag of grocieries and some assorted trash on the ground, was it.

"Hey everyone!" Will (uh, the faun Will) said as they got on board. "This is Sam, and this is Will. They're new here!"

The bat-boy responded with a slightly awkward smile; a more genuine one on the face of the girl. The orc gave them a glance, and then went back to looking out the window. None of this seemed to bother the faun, who clomped down the aisle and found a spot to sit.

[Miriam Bell]

"This is... maybe not weirder than normal but it certainly feels like it branched out." she says, nudging some trash out of the way with her foot. She's fairly certain that too is Will, perhaps on a slightly higher level than, say, the ground, but she's also pretty sure that the garbage wants to be treated as such.

[Samantha McManus]

"We diversified them. Some of this is to be expected," she says as she boards.

[Will Stantn]

"Now, to the best of my knowledge," the girl said as they walked past. "Miriam Bell and Samantha McManus typically have two arms, not one and three, or two and a tentacle. OK, so Sam is a little more variable than that, but just speaking of the laws of averages."

She scooted over, with a smile, despite there being plenty of room on the bus. "So either you're some strange variants I've never met, or you're new at this and don't know what you're doing, or you're very new at this and don't know what you're doing."

[Will]

"I think Sam might be a paragon. Two in rapid succession! And Will is her first variation," Will added, helpfully.

[Miriam Bell]

"Hey, I'm not the one who decided to disarm me. I know perfectly well who Miriam b--who I am and what I look like."

[Samantha McManus]

"Okay, let's... let's bloody fix this before it gets ridiculous," Sam grumbles, working with both will and frustrated fingers to try and mold the tentacle back into an arm.

[Narrator]

It was a bit like trying to walk while drunk for Sam. She knew what she was trying to do; she was a shapeshifter after all. And ultimately, that's all this was. The tentacle...arm...thing felt just like the rest of her; a little off from being wherever this was, but part of her body notwithstanding. She would lack the finesse she normally had, however -- overshooting and overadjusting as she gradually wrangled it back towards at least a generic interpretation of 'arm'.

It had probably been a while since Sam was this bad at it, but with some patience and some elbow grease (sorry, not sorry), she began to feel individual fingers emerging once more; wriggling them to show they worked. Joints, rather than smooth delineation. It didn't quite look like either her own arm or Miriam's arm, but it was at least now, theoretically, useable as an actual human being's hand, just one placed halfway down her side awkwardly.