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You can talk to Canary, but you do not control Canary (for now).
Other threads (quest posts are identical):
- SV thread:
Into the Coalmine (Worm Quest)
- SB thread:
Into the Coalmine (Worm Quest)
You can vote on any of the three, but your vote will only be counted once (that's only fair for the other participants.)
- Posting on several forums is allowed provided that you mention that you voted elsewhere. (A quick "I also voted on ..." is enough.)
I advise you to check out the votes on those forums (they are visible even without an account).
- That's because I tally the votes from all three threads!
- My post are strictly identical, no need to read them again.
- It already happened that different options gathered a majority on different threads, and one got to be overruled
Sometimes, in the middle of the day, you start and realize that you have no memory of the last few seconds.
That had been happening to me a lot lately. I was tired, very much so. I pushed into the night to finish a couple projects over the past week, which made me even less productive during the day, so I had to work at night even longer, and before I knew it only coffee was keeping me awake. Still, right now I was kinda freaking out.
Because the paralysis was new.
I couldn't move my fingers. My eyes were closed, and I could not open them. It was not that I was sleeping, I was lucid, as lucid as usual at least, but I just... could not move. It definitely took a lot of effort, or rather focus, to even twitch.
Wait a second. I... I think I just moved my arm a bit. Maybe?
Okay, let us focus on something else. No sight for now. I could smell makeup, and the same sort of hair products you smell in hairstylist workshops, the ones for women. There was also a weak, sweet smell of sweat mixed with deodorant. Coming from above was the faint droning sound of high end air conditioning, and about as loud was the distant hustle and bustle a few rooms away.
None of that was familiar.
I could also hear tight, deep breaths. My own breath. My chest felt constricted in an unusual way, as were my thighs, while my arms and chins were uncovered and rather chilly. Whatever I had on me, it was definitely not what I had been wearing a few moments ago.
Suddenly, I leaned forward, or rather my body leaned forward, pressing my palms on my eyes, and took a quick deep breath. Then, I looked up.
Sitting in front of me -- I was sitting too, apparently -- was a dashing young woman, in her early twenties. She looked the part of the nordic beauty, not a supermodel but definitely attractive, tall with sculpted cheeks, hair-fine brows, golden green eyes, and hair so blond it looked like a sunflower. Decorative, yellow feathers dotted her immaculate hairstyle. She was wearing a very elegant dress, full of glitter and cheerful, bright colors, that emphasized her slender, yet well-toned frame even more. One glance told me it would be way out of my budget by orders of magnitude.
Also, she had been crying. Slight streaks in the bright make-up marred her cheeks, with more where she brushed the tears away. Some more shone on her cheeks.
My hand brushed away some wetness from my face. The girl did the same.
Shoot. That was a mirror? What happened to me?
"What... You... Fuck off!" the girl exclaimed, gritting her teeth, pointedly looking at her own reflection.
I would have flinched back if I could. Okay, no annoying the young woman. The, um, me, I guess? Just keeping to myself, yes I am ma'm. Also, what the fridge is happening. Am I suddenly a passenger in another person's body? Or is that some kind of schizophrenia mixed with one heck of an hallucination?
At the same time, I couldn't help but think: geez, that's a darn nice voice.
My -- her eyes narrowed. I -- she turned around, scanning the rest of the... yes, definitely a dressing room, a very well-equipped one, like you found in first class concert halls. Dresser with a rainbow of outfits, full-length mirrors with powerful lights, swinging stools, coat rail. There was no one in sight.
Whoever she thought she had heard, she seemed to revise her judgement. She took a deep breath to calm down, and spoke more softly, concealing most of the edge and distress behind a rehearsed prosody.
"I am not taking autographs at the moment," she said cautiously. Gosh, was her voice beautiful. "Please go see my agent, she should be in the lobby, just right out the door."
She waited for an answer. I couldn't spot anyone, and no one seemed to be hiding. I also hadn't heard anything. Who was she talking to?
"Are you making fun of me?"
She stood up, striding towards the door and looking left and right, inside the dresser and behind the coat rack. She even peeked through the dressing room's door and into a short, dirt brown-tiled corridor. No one was there. No mystery admirer.
I waited with bated breath. A beat. Then two. Still nothing moved in the room.
Was the girl crazy?
"That's it, joke's over," she exclaimed. "I'm calling security."
Still no voice. The girl definitely was crazy-
Wait. Was she hearing my thoughts? No, that would be impossible, but... Well, was it really more impossible that what I was currently observing? At least, it was easy to test.
Jeez this is awkward. Um. Let's try projecting my thoughts over to her.
Can you hear me?
"Yes, obviously!"
Nailed it. Okay, I'm not sure about the "obvious" part, but nevermind. This is crazy. I, uh -- please stop looking around like that, I am kinda, um, in your head at the moment.
"What?"
Yeah. I am in your head. Seing through your eyes, hearing through your ears, feeling through your skin, etc. No clue how it happened.
She thought about it for a second. I almost drew a breath of relief. Maybe we could discuss the situation civilly, after all.
Then she plugged her ears and eyes with her hands, and started humming, the way one does to cover others' voices.
... Are you trying to muffle my voice out? Rude. Also, not very effective. You know I am in your head, right?
That made her pause. She stopped singing, not yet removing her hands, before speaking up aggressively.
"Whatever it is you want, I will not join your villain team. I only want to make a career singing, nothing more. Now get out of my head."
What team? And I don't want anything -
"I am calling the PRT," she said, stepping towards the door.
No no no. Please! Listen, I promise it is not a prank. I mean you no harm. If I could get back to my own body, I would. Let us start from the beginning. I'm
[ ] Norman.
[ ] Elise.
[ ] Luis.
[ ] Kimiko.
... And you?
"As if you didn't know."
Really, I don't. I'm not in your head -- well, I am, but I cannot read your thoughts or anything.
"Paige. Paige Mcabee." She replied after a beat.
She did not sound particularly reassured, or friendly for that matter, but at least she was answering my questions. Her hand was on the door's handle, but Paige wasn't opening it. Small victory, for now.
Nice to meet you, Paige. I, um, I like your voice a lot. Are you a singer?
"Yes," she said slowly, as if to a dimwit. "For a couple years already. I go by Bad Canary on stage."
Bad Canary. Hah, good name. Fit the colors very well. The feathers in her hair were a nice touch too. It kind of reminded me of that story, with superpowered humans and a hero who could control bugs; there was this one singer inside, who was unjustly sentenced to an inescapable prison because her voice could...
Wait.
Hold on.
Paige. Your voice. Can it control people?
"No. My singing voice can induce a light trance, but people need to be exposed a lot to start becoming suggestible. It cannot happen during casual conversation, whatever the duration. People tell me my voice is otherworldlingly nice to hear, but it is perfectly safe."
Right. She didn't say that defensively at all. What a load of PR BS.
What day are we?
"May 16. 2010."
What was the timeline? In the story, the protagonist got her powers in January. Was Canary already in a trial by that time? No, that was not the important part. What did Canary do to be prosecuted in the first place? It had something to do with her powers, definitely. She was in an argument, and insulted someone, probably her abusive ex, and that guy ended up hurting himself by following her prompting. Did that happen already?
Paige, sorry if this is getting personal, but it is very important. You may be in danger. Do you have an ex-boyfriend?
"Yeah," she said coldly. "The cheating bastard. He's not important."
Did you have an argument recently?
"How is that your business?"
Listen, you don't need to answer, okay? Just consider this. Did you, by any chance, insult him right before he left? An insult that he could try to follow literally if he was under the influence of your voice?
Paige crossed her arms defensively. She thought for a moment.
"If I did that," she said finally, much more subdued, "I wouldn't mean it as an order."
Did you, by chance, tell him to "go fuck yourself"?
Her cheeks reddened. "I mean, he deserved it."
Crap.
[ ] We have to get out of here.
Convince Paige to flee, so as not to be here when the police or the PRT shows up.
[ ] You have to catch him.
Try and find Paige's ex and cancel the injunction.
[ ] I may know a bit of the future...
Explain what you know of her situation to Paige. Hopefully, it won't be too far from the truth...
[ ] (write in.)