Figuring out the most likely reason for Mary’s disappearance was, of course, great, but it didn’t solve the actual problem of Mary being missing.
Scratch that, it added more of them.
Lily had fucked up in some vague mindcontrolly way and was currently lying on the bench, staring blankly at the sky, and silently panicking about the upcoming horror–seriously, did she eat babies while he wasn't looking, or what?–of actually explaining things. The whole street was basking in the aura of her talking herself up and gathering enough courage to come clean, and then promptly realizing that she was almost ready to tell the truth and having her brain short-circuit in horror, losing the bravery she had gathered in the process. It was a cycle that was frankly annoying to experience, because holy shit she did not bother to hide her thoughts at all. Dennis was pretty sure that the girl didn’t even notice that she was broadcasting her mental state like an overenthusiastic radio station. He would bet money that there were death row inmates more chill about their execution than Lily was about admitting that she did something ‘wrong’.
It was a pitiful sight, and reminded him too much of his own ‘dark moments’ to be comfortable, but he had no fucking idea how to fix it except forcing the issue. He was also pretty sure that forcing the issue had at least a fifty percent chance of blowing up spectacularly, like the girl deciding to turn into the wind and never come back, or some other dramatic nonsense like that. She was like a bomb that could explode if you poked it wrong, and Dennis wasn’t sure how to help without making it worse. So, that was problem number one.
Problem number two, Mary was still missing. Obviously. And while the reassurance that she was probably just running away and not being eaten by a spider-clown was reassuring, there were quite a few complications to that. She could still get killed or eaten by something, especially if she had gotten far enough away. He was fast, but there was a limit to his speed. It could take him a second or two to reach her when she triggered his skill, and lots of nasty stuff could happen in that time. Also, there was a vague limit to Heroic Senses’ range. Also, she could always stumble on a ghost, fog-monster, or something else that he couldn’t deal with. So, that was problem number two. Mary wasn’t safe, and that bothered him.
Problem number three – Mary wasn’t just unsafe, but also more likely than not actively catastrophizing about Lily’s ‘evil mind-control’, and she had a way to communicate with the nearby city. Depending on how paranoid some people were, there could be a fucking witchhunt on their heads soon, and that would be a pain in the ass to deal with. Finding Mary was a priority not just because he didn’t like the feeling that she was unsafe, but also because the whole thing had the potential to grow into a miscommunication disaster of epic proportions. Not good, that.
Sure, he could understand where she was coming from, but damn, just send a fucking message pigeon to clear this shit up, right?
Actually…
He walked up to El’el, who was notably sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the street from Lily, almost as far away as possible. She glared at him warily as he approached.
“Yo,” he said casually, raising an arm in greeting. She didn’t answer. “Can you magic up a way to send Mary a message?”
“I cannot,” she said coldly. The tone reminded him of some of his old coworkers who hated their manager’s guts but had to remain polite. Some people were weird like that. “Just like for divination, I do not have anything to establish a sufficient link.” While the words were polite, Dennis had a strong suspicion that there was a ‘go fuck yourself’ hidden somewhere behind them.
So, problem number four. El’el, for some reason, didn’t like it that he stopped her from casting her ‘reveal the truth or whatever’ magic. Honestly, she was behaving more like a prisoner than an ally. Stuck with him to dodge the holy inquisition, and forced to endure Lily’s bullshit, the elf was basically a Mary 2.0 in the making.
It was amazing how much shit could hit the fan because something silly got blown up out of proportion.
What was even more amazing was the fact that Dennis felt like he was the only one who acted reasonable and level-headed about this. Almost, like, he was mature or some shit.
Like, really? Were they being serious? What the fuck was wrong with these people if Dennis felt like a voice of reason? One ran away, the other one acted like he was bullying her, and the third one was still in the process of deciding if she’d like to have a panic attack or not.
What the actual fuck?
Couldn’t he have a sane and mature party member to manage this stuff? Was that too much to ask? Dennis was, literally, the least qualified person for the job.
He sat down beside El’el, still lost but willing to try out some heroic speeches. Or, just to talk. It was weird. The fact that he even bothered was weird.
“Um…” The words didn’t come. “Nice weather we’re having?”
Dennis was pretty sure that this was the first time in his life when he did smalltalk. It felt wrong.
El’el didn’t reply.
“Do you think it’s possible to pass through solid objects by vibrating really fast?” He tried again, but picked a much better topic than weather. “Vibration phasing powers? How fast do you think I need to be to do that? I tried to phase my hand through a wall once, but all I got was a cramp. How do you even ‘vibrate’? From my point of view, it just looks like I’m jerking my arm erratically. It looks silly. Feels the same.”
She eyed him, not really impressed, but at least that was a reaction. He was on the right track.
“I’ve never heard of ‘vibration phasing’ powers,” she answered, more out of politeness than anything else, it felt like. “But Dexterity is movement. I am sure some of its reflections can grant intangibility.” She paused, but now he could see some gears turning behind the brooding. “Very hard to do with wizardry if you want to avoid some nasty side-effects, I think. Maybe there’s sorcery specialized for that kind of thing?” And just like that, he had her monologuing. Was that progress? “Though I don’t think there’s sorcery that can grant ‘just’ pure intangibility. It would be turning into shadows or light, or bending space. Maybe something ghost related? Illusions? There is a sorcery path that allows the wielder to treat themselves as an illusion. That could work… But with vibration? Why vibration? I guess if you treat vibration as a type of shimmer, you could convert–” Her speech was slowly tapering off, turning into mutterings as she was getting lost in her head, now engrossed in the idea of making a ‘vibration phasing’ spell or something.
He sat nearby, silent, just listening as her speech turned more and more into a half-crazed mystic nonsense. Her brooding was forgotten, replaced by a manic, mad-scientist look as she summoned random glyphs in the palm of her hand before discarding them with a wince, deeming them ‘wrong’.
Okay. That happened. He definitely pushed a button. He didn’t know that there was a button. Note for the future – he could distract El’el from pretty much anything by making her talk about magic.
Did that work for his purposes? Did he succeed? She was definitely not brooding anymore. He was pretty sure she forgot about her problem with Lily altogether, at least for the time being.
He’d take it. It was a rare win when he achieved his goals through talking, without even the threat of violence. A glorious victory for socially-capable Dennis. All that he needed was to talk about speedsters a bit, and it fixed everything. A complete success.
“Nice talking to ya,” he said, smiling, and stood up. El’el didn’t answer. He was pretty sure she didn’t hear him.
He stretched, and nodded to himself.
One problem fixed, three to go. He looked in Lily’s direction.
The pit of anxiety that was Lily did not look approachable at the moment. She seemed to be in her ‘oh shit’ phase of psyching herself up.
He sat back down.
Could he do something about Mary, then? She wasn’t savable under his ‘default’ Heroic Senses settings, but maybe he could target a group that she was a part of? It had to be something that needed saving, that he could do something about. She wasn’t a confused level one person, obviously. Not a part of the city people either, not that they needed saving. A part of the nerd group? Again, what would he save them from? Stupidity? Bad taste in hobbies?
He groaned, closing his eyes.
He just had to wait. Surely Mary would stumble on a deadly monster sooner than later.
/ - /
“This is a bad idea,” their driver, Mark, muttered again under his breath.
Evan agreed in principle, but couldn’t resist pointing out the mistake that the man was making.
“This is the best option out of an array of bad ones,” he said calmly. “While risky, doing nothing would have presented an even greater risk.”
Five of them were riding in a convertible pickup truck. Not big enough of a fighting force, in his opinion, but he was convinced that bigger groups were inherently more dangerous to be in. Five was considered to be the best balance of mobility, fighting power, and stealth, according to people’s experiences. Bigger parties were stronger, but worse at avoiding unnecessary battles, which was a great detriment. Smaller parties, unless they consisted of elites, were often too weak to fight off common threats.
He found it funny how the real world turned out to mimic what he knew from games. After all, a five-person squad was the common number from both the tabletop roleplaying games and MMOs, among other things.
They even mimicked the party roles, somewhat. Was it because it was efficient, or because people tended to do what was familiar to them?
Mark was their driver, their guide, and the de-facto leader of their rescue party. He was also one of the elites of NLA, possessing both a high level and two skills, one good for scouting and another for battle. Not that Evan saw them in action yet. He was just told.
Three people sat in the back of the truck. Jack, as he insisted on coming and had a strong enough offensive skill to be allowed to do so, and Bill and Daniel, Mark’s subordinates. Together, the three of them were enough to shoot down any wildlife that Mark didn’t manage to avoid.
Evan himself was seated in the front passenger’s seat, hence he was granted the pleasure of listening to their guide’s continued whining. His role was that of a semi-guide, as he was the one to whom Mary sent her butterflies. Not that he was incapable in a fight. It just wasn’t his role here.
“We don’t do rescue missions like that,” Mark kept whining. “This is going to be a disaster, I tell you.”
“How do you do rescue missions then?” Evan asked in a bored tone, looking out the window. Despite being in a car, they were quite slow. A limitation of Mark's skill?
“We don’t do them,” Bill said from the back. “If a party goes missing, nine times out of ten they’re already dead, and you’re sending a team to risk their lives for nothing.
“And one time out of ten?”
“Could be even worse,” Mark said morbidly, watching the road carefully. “Fucking no one does rescue anymore. It always goes wrong.”
“What a positive bunch y’all are,” Jack muttered. “Elites my ass.”
“Check your fucking tongue, you–” Daniel started cursing.
“You do understand why we’re doing this, right?” Evan tried to play peacekeeper. “This is important.”
“Well, we’re going, aren’t we?” Mark said with what sounded like a false bravado. “An elf from another world, an elite mind-controller, and a friendly-fucking-neighborhood speedster walked into a bar… What level is he, you said?”
“We don’t know,” Evan answered. “Much higher than yours, going by the feel.”
Mark was silent for a while.
“Did you know that they usually call me when we need to deal with overpowered puppies?” he said quietly. “What the fuck am I supposed to do against that guy? Ask him politely to leave? Or should I be talking to the mind-controller? That’s going to be great. Great idea. Great plan. Fucking amazing.”
“I advise we avoid violence at all costs,” Evan said seriously.
“No shit Sherlo–”
“Didn’t we pass this stop sign already?”
Mark hit the brakes. The car stopped abruptly.
“Which one?”
Evan pointed at the sign. It was slightly bent, which was the reason he remembered it.
Mark was looking at it with such intensity like the thing personally pissed in his breakfast.
“Yeah, I remember passing it,” he said after some time. “I also distinctly remember not turning around.”
“The engine sounds muted,” Bill said quietly.
“What does that mean?” Jack asked, confused.
“Means we’re fucked, mate.”