#steedsprite

You wake back in the Land of Salts and Sonance without your usual cheer. Two burdens lay now on your shoulders. Your awakening on Prospit instilled in you all the knowledge due you in your role as a Seer. You see – in a sense beyond your mere physical eyes – the constructs of the game, and the infinite worlds beside you just out of reach. It is a terrible burden you’ve been dealt, to see every doomed timeline and know where and why they went wrong. If you so choose, you might be able to contact all those doomed Tiffanies and Gregs and Elizabeths and Steves, but you would never be able to save them.

More importantly, though, your mom wasn’t there to wake you up.

You only caught the door of your room closing when you sat up in your bed in your tower on Prospit. After you got your bearings, you flew around a bit. The other two Prospit dreamers’ rooms weren’t far away, so you wandered over. Liz was already gone from hers, but Steve was there. You didn’t want to intrude on his reunion with his mom, though; Liz had said that he was worried about her. The figure wandering the streets looked like Greg’s dad, so you’re pretty sure he’s okay.

But your mom wasn’t there.

You head back into your house and up to your computer. Hopefully one of your friends knows something.

-- equineEngineer [EE] began badgering siliconSwashbuckler [SS] –

EE: steve? SS: Tiffany! You made it! SS: I am so glad to hear from you. EE: im glad youre okay too! :) SS: Are you ready to get started? EE: not yet EE: i saw you on prospit SS: Oh, your dreamself is there too? SS: That’s cool! EE: im glad your mom is okay SS: Me too. SS: I was sure that I had lost her back there. SS: But apparently some weird guy saved all our parents so they could wake us up. EE: my mom too EE: ? SS: Yeah. Didn’t she wake you? EE: no EE: i didnt see who it was but i think it was gregs dad SS: Eeek. SS: He scares me. EE: me too X( SS: My mom said all our parents made it. EE: phew SS: I guess we should get started. I know I’m not your server, but I can still give you some advice. EE: thanks steve! SS: No problem. Did Liz deploy all the machines for you? EE: yea EE: and i got a bunch of grist when i saved that mole SS: You have moles on your planet? SS: Man, everybody has great consorts except me. EE: oh steve ;) SS: Go ahead and try some alchemy.

--

You know that if you concentrated, you could see all the other yous’ alchemy attempts, and you could see which ones work and which ones wouldn’t. Instead, you shake your head and clear your thoughts. It’ll be more fun if you don’t know what’s coming.

Obviously to start you’re going to need adventuring clothing.

Lab Gloves && Horseback Attire = CHEMIST’S CHAPS

The pair of riding pants you created are made of a material you don’t recognize – it’s elastic without tearing, and it has enough friction to keep you from sliding off the saddle. On the  waistband are warning labels informing you that the pants are shielded from alpha, beta, and gamma radiation, insulated against heat and electricity, and resist corrosion. Gleefully you slip them on.

Lab Gloves || Horse Calendar = LUSTRIOUS LAB COAT

Your new coat is made of horse hair; it’s silky smooth, like snuggling up to Marie and wrapping her around yourself. The same warning labels cover the inside of the coat, rather than marring the gorgeous exterior.

Okay, these clothes are practical, but you need something with more pizzazz.

Chemistry Set && Homecoming Dress = ELEMENTAL EVENINGWEAR

The ball gown is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. It shimmers a brilliant orange, as though it’s made entirely of sequins. On the shoulder is stitched a small square with the letter H in it. You tap it a few more times. As you scroll through the elements, the dress changes color to match the flame produced when burning that element. You stop at Barium, leaving the dress a muted green. At some point you have to find the time to wear this and strut your stuff. The neckline is just low enough to drive Greg crazy.

Steedsprite nuzzles up to you and snorts. In the distance you can see a herd frightened about something. That’s right; if you’re going to keep dealing with imps, you should probably make something to defend yourself.

Riding Crop && Mortar / Pestle = CROP DUSTER

Your crop is now a hard white ceramic. As you swing it, little flakes sprinkle off it.

Blech. You need something way better than that.

Crop Duster || Chemistry Set = TOXIC TRUNCHEON

Now your crop looks normal – aside from glowing a bright green. You draw a pair of matching gloves from your new coat and pick it up. When you swing it, you accidentally hit the lamp over your bed. Within seconds it dissolves into a puddle of goo.

Yeesh. You should leave this in your Strife Specibus.

--

EE: im back! SS: Did you make anything cool? EE: i made a bunch of new clothes! EE: and the hottest dress! :O SS: Oh man. I hope I get to see it. EE: maybe! EE: oh! gregs back! EE: im going to go see if he needs my server stuff SS: Oh, okay. SS: Be careful, Tiffany. EE: you too steve!

The LAND OF SALTS AND SONANCE is beautiful. Endless meadows stretch in every direction, dotted with posies and lined with occasional fences. A pleasant breeze ruffles your hair, and you hear the hundreds of wind chimes that dangle off the fences dance in the breeze. Around the place your house landed are mounds of crystalline powders. You smile as you try to identify them by their color – yellow piles of sodium chromate, bright orange potassium dichromate, and brilliant blue cupric sulfate.

As you take in your surroundings, Steedsprite floats over to the nearest white pile and starts lapping it up. You giggle and run your hand through her ethereal mane.

Panicked whinnies behind you spin you around. A pair of SEED IMPS are standing around a large hole in the ground, kicking dirt into it. They’re really hideous now – long faces with circle glasses and stubble, four arms, spiky hair, and lacy corsets wrapped around their midsections. You take a moment to be skeezed out before charging in for a strife.

Nothing can ever hope to stand up to your Cropkind Specibus. You wield blunt instruments with zeal and skill, and sure enough, the two imps are quickly dispatched.

As Steedsprite sniffs the fallen grist, you peer into the hole. A long, thin nose tipped with whiskers pokes out, twitching before ducking back in. You scoop up the spoils of your victory and sit back to wait. After a few minutes of quiet patience, a giant mole pops its head out and sniffs the air.

Gingerly, you offer out your hand for it to smell. You certainly don’t mean it any harm.