062914-LegDay

 CSO: Meouet, Libby takes you into her rooms and sets you unceremoniously on a lab table. "You know, Meouet, maybe if you'd stopped flying for 5 minutes I'd have known you had a real injury sooner."

 CURRENT taciturnContagion [CTC] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.

 CTC: "You would fly if you had wings too..." Meouet puffs her cheeks a little in immature protest.

 CGT: ~"Flying iʃ rather addictive, conʃidering we don't generally have the opportvnity to do ʃo ovtʃide of becoming a helmʃman," Ryʃpor remarkʃ aʃ he walkʃ in.~

 CGT: ~"Apologieʃ for..." He waveʃ a hand. "It tendʃ to come on ʃtrong in the firʃt few tranʃformationʃ. I ʃhvdder to remember Dina in her early dayʃ."~

 CTC: "Still, how did you come across that a-" she winces "ability."

 CSO: Libby clicks her tongue again. "I can fly whenever I please. I find it tends to make one forget themselves. Ryspor, do you still have that eye?"

 CGT: ~"Ah, yeʃ." He decaptchalogveʃ it and handʃ it over.~

 CGT: ~"Doir diʃcovered it initially, I believe, throgh a ʃerieʃ of lvcky alchemizationʃ. I covldn't tell yov the formvla."~

 CSO: "It's a henshin pen. They worm their way into every session. Some kind of cosmic joke."

 CTC: "That's a shame... I mean, Oh."

 CSO: "More trouble than they're worth, unless you need a writing implement. They're cheaper than a regular pen grist-wise.

 CTC: "Really? That's just..."

 CGT: ~"Oh, yov can vʃe them for writing? Faʃcinating."~

 CTC: "Wait, what?"

CGT made CA an OP.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~He qvirkʃ an eyebrow. "Hm?"~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Cheaper than actually making a pen."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby takes the eye and uses it to examine Meouet's leg. "As expected. Almost as bad as Sami was. Ryspor, would you go over to my cabinet and pull out three milky white vials and an olive green one, and an injector?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~He nodʃ, and walkʃ to the cabinet, pvlling ovt the reqveʃted itemʃ.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: Meouet is kind of confused.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "So what are you planning to do?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Heal yovr leg, moʃt likely."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "I guess I meant how. Sorry."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Haʃ Libby told yov abovt ʃtimʃ at all?"~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "No."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby pulls her device out of her pocket and hits a few buttons. "In a few minutes we'll have a cast for you. These," She holds up a milky white vial, "will dull the pain. And this," She holds up the olive green, "Will regrow your bones, quickly and painfully. Hence the white vials."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Yov may feel, ah, a tad giddy, to ʃay the leaʃt." He grimaceʃ aʃ he rememberʃ hiʃ encovnter with the pearl ʃtim.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Wait-a-minute"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "If I get giddy, don't let happy-go-lucky shipper-chan chat with me."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "No, we wont. Ryspor, your henshin pen."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~He relvctantly handʃ it over. "It'ʃ not aʃ if I waʃ going to rampantly tranʃform. I do take precavtionʃ, yov know."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;">CCA ceased responding to memo.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: She captchalogues it. "That's why you always have a transformation buddy. Why do you think most magical girls are part of a team or have an otherworldly advisor."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "Now, Ryspor, go into my lab and get the cast on the printer, please."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~He nodʃ, ʃtill ʃlightly pvt ovt by the confiʃcation of hiʃ pen, and retrieveʃ the caʃt.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: While he's gone, Libby removes Meouet's shoe and sock. "How'd you break it, exactly?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "The Death Waltz. I failed to notice the light at one point and got swept over so quickly that I twisted it. And the skates had a mind of their own and had me put all my weight on it after that, so here we are."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: She nods, reaching for the cast as Ryspor comes in. "The cast is waterproof, this should only take a few days. "

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "It should be fine if i stay off it."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby nods. "You're going to stay off it." She snaps the cast in place over Meouet's ankle. "And you're going to take your medicine. Understand?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Yes, Thank you..." Meouet blushes a little. "Sorry..."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby takes the injector, and loads it with the olive green and milky white vials, then presses them against meouet's calf through a hole in the cast, injecting all at once.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: Meouet looks at the cast, a bit befuddled

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Waterproof? What's the point if it's mesh-looking like this?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "You're not to put any weight on it, understand. Flying only, or sitting a lot. The cast just holds your leg in place. It will degrade and fall off on its own when you're healed."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "huh..."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"That'ʃ qvite clever. What material iʃ it made of?"~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "Ground up, dead carapacians in a suspension of glue made from the souls of the damned."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "It's plastic, Ryspor, GodOS."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Oh," Ryʃpor ʃayʃ, looking conʃiderably relieved and blvʃhing ʃlightly.~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "I'll stay off it."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "All right. That's all I need you for right now. Meouet, you'll be a bit groggy so if you need to nap here that's fine. Ryspor, you get your pen back when Meouet's healed, and you have a transformation buddy. Understand?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Tell me more about these pens though. Like... If they're so inexpensive to make grist-wise, why don't we all have them?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "I want to have a pretty dress. I mean. ... Not too importnat..."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Becavʃe only a ʃelect few people have the code. I received it from Nvllar, who received it from Doir."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Aw... I've talked to all of you at least once. Why didn't anyone tell me. " Meouet frowns a little pathetically.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: Libby fiddles about in her desk, and hands you a fat black pen. "Alchemize that with something good. And thematic."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Thematic?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "Magical Girls are based around a theme. You need a theme to be a good magical girl. The more open your theme is, the moor you can do."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: more*

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Perhapʃ we can be...'tranʃformation bvddieʃ'?" He ʃmileʃ hopefvlly. "I imagine I'll be mvch leʃʃ likely to ʃhip yov if yov're ʃeen aʃ an ally."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "That's silly~." Meouet examines the pen.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "What theme is Doir then?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "Justice"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "What theme did Ryspor gets?" Meouet rubs her eyes.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"...ʃhipping, apparently. Both literal and figvrative."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "So we have Love, Justice, and..."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Happineʃʃ? I'm not ʃvre what yov'd prototype to achieve that reʃvlt, however."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "There can be no happiness. Meguca is suffering."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Oh good graciovʃ, not that tired phraʃe again. I heard qvite enovgh of that back on Alternia."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "Creation is too broad."

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CTC: "I'll sthink aboud it when i wake up." Meouet lays down.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~"Oh, all right. Good night, I ʃvppoʃe."~

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CSO: "You get some rest, Meouet. I"ll speak with you later." She grins at Ryspor. "Care to take a walk with me?"

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;"> CGT: ~He ʃmileʃ. "Certainly."~