XP to Next Level: 814

Perry was so close he could taste it. Gorm had netted him slightly more than twenty-thousand XP, and ONE completed quest could finish his ascension.

Or a couple dead folk.

Perry didn’t really care one way or another, but his ethics model didn’t allow for it.

Instead of paying his uncle a ‘visit’, he was forced to sit through every soul-healing activity Natalie could think of, even consulting with gramma for advice.

Gramma’s advice was basically ‘you can make an environment conducive to healing the soul but you can’t speed it up beyond a certain point.’

So the family dinners and smothering hugs continued. And now he didn’t even care enough to follow through with his uncle.

His kid’s name’s were Seraphine and Gareth.

Gareth was calm, sleepy and growing a tuft of tarnished gold hair. Seraphine ‘danger’ Zauberer was raven-haired, and seemed affronted at every aspect of living and determined to take it out on the people around her.

Perry was fairly sure she only cried because she didn’t know how to do war-cries yet.

Perry caught himself smirking at that, touching the corner of his mouth where a flicker of something had penetrated the vast ocean of ice inside him.

Huh. Maybe there is something to hugs, family dinners and sleeping together.

Perry pretended to sleep eight hours at a time because it would make Nat sad otherwise. He really only needed about half an hour.

Why am I even sticking to this ethics model?

Perry understood intellectually that it was the last anchor to keep him from going off the deep end. A rope tied around his waist while he swam with the sharks. A last, last, last line of defense for when everything had gone so far sideways that his only hope of regaining humanity was ‘fake it ‘til you make it’.

But what was the point? It was exhausting and it was delaying level fifteen.

He wasn’t getting any better, either. Aside from the occasional smile, he was, on average, declining in mental fitness as his severely unbalanced Attunement drew him on the path to insanity.

Perry winced as he thought back to The Tide, quickly cutting off that line of thought before he could dwell on it too much.

He’d charted his decline. Probably better than Nat had, actually. He saw the desperation lurking behind her gentle, encouraging smile, even though he didn’t care. He saw the way Heather was subtly afraid of him.

But his ethics model said he shouldn’t ditch it, and that was good enough for Perry. If he started modifying his rules now, in his altered state, all bets were off.

So he stayed and continued to get worse.

Because honestly, he didn’t have strong feelings one way or another.

Perry was sitting at the dinner table, staring at the fresh wildflowers that Nat had harvested this morning before she went to work to brighten the room.

I wonder if she knows I can feel them screaming in pain? Perry wondered. His attunement was hella high right now, and the barrier between Otherness and reality was a…razor thin membrane. Perry could even see where Sophie and Gna’kis’s thoughts touched upon him, pressing up against the dimensional membrane like a hand on a shower curtain. If he had a sharp enough knife, he was pretty sure he could pull them through and stabilize their physical forms without even using a ritual.

They couldn’t see each other, though, since they were approaching him from nearly diametrically opposed metaphysical directions.

Perry glanced over at the empty chair across from him and squinted as it pulsed with newfound importance.

Something’s coming.

“Paradox,” Solaris said as he snapped into existence in front of him, presumably waltzing through his grandmother’s security team.

It wasn’t that hard.

“Tom.” Perry said.

“I heard you got back to Earth from your mom a month ago. Feeling any better?”

“Not really. You here to kill me?” Getting killed by Solaris was too fast to feel anything. So that was good.

“Hmmm…” Solaris frowned, chewing his lip. “How likely would you say you are to go on a rampage that ends life on Earth?”

“Ehhh…fifty-fifty. I might try, but it’s against my ethics model and probably more effort than its worth. Should someone remove my ethics model and present sufficient motivation to level up quickly, I probably would make the attempt.”

Solaris’s eyebrows rose, and the fingers on his left hand shook momentarily before he clasped them together.

“What are your odds of recovery, would you say?”

“Ehhh…” Perry did some guesswork. “Not great. As it stands now I’ll probably be too far gone in a couple weeks.”

“And have you taken any steps to fix yourself?”

“No.”

“Do you care if you live or die?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I fuckin’ do.” Solaris said with a growl. “Your parents are some of the best friends I’ve had in sixty years. Some of the only friends that are still alive, and I’ll be damned if I have to put down their son like a rabid dog.”

“That’s not really my problem, is it?” Perry asked. Priorities are completely realigned after death, so concern for his family’s feeling after his death was a nonissue.

“Most people would have an issue with being killed,” Solaris said, leaning back in the chair.

“Eh.” Perry shrugged.

“Tell me about your ethics model that’s preventing you from committing genocide.”

“Anything that makes Nat sad, I don’t do.” Perry said.

“You realize that dying would make her sad right?”

“Yep.”

“…could you fix yourself, if you wanted to?” Solaris asked.

“Pretty easily. I could level up and manipulate my stats in such a way that my imbalance is resolved, allowing the healing to take hold.”

“And why aren’t you doing that?”

“First: I don’t care. Second: Because for a brief moment after I level, my imbalance will go from five point seven nine to six point zero eight, an instantaneous increase in my current imbalance of about five percent, probably snapping my grasp on reality. I’m so close to the edge…five percent is a lot. And third: I’m terrified of the mental backlash I’ll experience should I succeed and raise my Stability, allowing me to feel again. It seems less painful to just gradually go insane, all other things being equal.”

“For your last concern, I can tell you right now that your women would much rather patch up a nervous wreck than bury a corpse. And let me tell you, Natalie would do a good job of it.”

“That’s fair.” Perry said.

“For your second concern…What if you had people on-hand to pull the plug?”

Perry considered that for a moment. A safety net to kill him and save his family if him gaining a level was the very last straw.

“And for the first problem, how about your girlfriend would be VERY sad if she found out you just gave up when there was a way you could’ve fixed yourself?”

“Could work. I been entertaining an idea about how I can get to level fifteen without damaging my Stability any more than I need to. No violence.”

Not that Perry didn’t want to hurt his uncle: He totally did, but that kind of behavior was famously destabilizing and Perry needed to reign it in as much as possible if he was going to stay human and present in this reality

While as the same time killing as many of his uncle’s potential futures as possible to maximize the XP he could squeeze out of him.

“An idea? Do tell.” Solaris said, leaning forward in his seat.

***Paradox***

“How’s the fit?” Nat said, adjusting the circlet around his head.

“Feels like getting a hug from every direction at once.” Perry said.

Stability + 17

The massive influx of artificial Stability was an interesting feeling. It was like being hugged on cold winter day. The hug provided warmth, sure, but the cold was still just outside, pressing in with inescapable persistence.

It wasn’t the 30 points he’d hoped for but seventeen was more than an enchanter could’ve ever hoped to make without high technology and a burning desire to protect their loved one.

The circlet would probably be a national treasure if this had been one hundred years ago.

“Sorry it took so long,” Nat said sheepishly.

“No, I’m the one who forgot to tell you my plan,” Perry said with a shrug. Which was stupid, now that he thought of it, but the delay wasn’t from stupidity, but simply staring at the wall in a fugue state, only answering questions when asked.

Even now, he had difficulty motivating himself to do the plan. The soul-damage was still there, it was just no longer quite as exacerbated by Attunement imbalance, so at least he could care. A little bit.

“How do I look?” Perry asked, spreading his arms.

He was in Manitan style formal wear enhanced with Mox feathers, which made the light catch all the bedazzling across his chest and glitter brilliantly no matter what the ambient lighting.

“Eh, good enough,” Heather said. Perry trusted her opinion more than his own, since she spent so much time thinking about fashion.

Heather and Nat were wearing their Mox-feather gowns as well, looking outrageously good as the mox feather bent the light to cast only the most flattering shadows.

It wasn’t necessary to look better than everyone else, but it added a certain…je ne sais quoi to his revenge on his uncle.

Sure, Perry wasn’t going to humiliate him, as per their agreement, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to have him feeling good about himself either.

“I’ll take it. Let’s do this,” Perry said with a nod.

The three of them filed out of the limousine and craned their necks to take in all of his uncle’s mansion, a sprawling six-story building meant for one family and their servants.

It was draped in lights, tinsel and various Christmas decorations. A carefully tended coating of pure white snow topped the mansion’s roof.

Around them, party-goers filed into Charles’ home, a few of them doing double-takes at Perry and company.

“Oh, there’s our escort,” Perry said as the evening’s plug-pullers arrived.

If Perry started acting weird, they were tasked with killing him immediately. Funny thing is, I act weird all the time, so… Well, I’ll worry about it later.

“Good evening Paradox,” Chemestro said, wearing a vacuum-sealed tuxedo. “This is Nocturne, Guile, Freddy Steel and Truthslayer. We’ll be your anchors for the night. Here’s a list of behavior that will earn you summary execution.”

Chemestro held out a crisply folded piece of paper.

Perry pocketed the note without reading it and offered his hand to the assembled supers.

Nocturne and Truthslayer shook Perry’s hand, but Guile and Freddy Steel avoided touching him. Perry wasn’t insulted. There were a lot of things you could do to someone on contact, and presumably Nocturne and Truthslayer had ways of telling if someone were to try something, while the other two didn’t have that level of extrasensory perception.

“Nice to meet you all, it’s a pleasure to be killed by Solaris’s Anchors. You ever been to a Frepon family Christmas party?” Perry asked. The five of them shook their heads.

“Cool, because they outdo themselves every year, and since I suspect it’s all downhill from here, you may be attending the best Frepon Christmas party ever,” Perry said, mentally commanding his drones to assemble above the mansion.

They winked like stars in the sky as they surrounded the Frepon protective dome, scanning the surroundings and calculating the changes that would need to be wrought on the surrounding scenery.

They were extensive.

“Why do Manitians celebrate Christmas anyway?” Chemestro asked as the eight of them fell in step, heading for the entrance.

“It made us more palatable to the primarily Christian demographic of North America.” Perry said as they approached the massive open double doors allowing people entrance. “Politics.”

“Greetings, sir, Ummm…the greeter held a green and red satchel out, but balked when he identified Paradox.

“Am I not on the list?” Perry asked.

“Um, no, you’re on the list, Paradox, sir. Here, reach into this sack.” He held out the sack and Perry reached in, his hand disappearing into nothing as the sack was seemingly bigger on the inside. A moment later, he pulled out a cheap rubber sticky-slappy-hand.

Perry inspected it critically.

“The bag gives you the toy you most enjoyed when you were a child,” the greeter said, looking mighty nervous.

“Sweet,” Perry said, expertly slapping Nat on the butt with it, eliciting a squeal as she pulled out a DIY science kit.

“Perry!”

Perry held his hands up in surrender, the rubber sticky hand dangling from his middle finger.

Heather got a Barbie with extra outfits, Nocturne a guitar, Guile a dollar-store plastic kunai, Freddy steel a Solaris action figure, and Chemestro got…

A water bottle.

“Why do you ruin everything?” Perry asked, staring at Chemestro as they headed inside.

“Water bottles are useful.” Chemestro said. “They can add resistance when endurance training, and in survival situations, they’re indispensable.”

“It doesn’t matter that you like water bottles, it was meant to be an icebreaker, but now everybody’s gonna see your water bottle and know your childhood was the shittiest, ergo, the most worthy of sympathy.” Perry said, motioning to the rest of the crowd, who were showing each other their childhood toys, chatting and laughing.

As a Christmas-themed icebreaker to get people talking, it was a pretty damn good idea, but Perry could only imagine how expensive the ‘childhood toy’ sack was.

“You think I could grab some hors d’oeuvres with this thing?” Perry asked, hefting his sticky hand as they entered the main room, where Manitians of all species were mingling, chatting, doing double-takes at him and generally avoiding standing anywhere near him and his entourage of five professional killers.

“Bet.” Freddy Steel said.

Fwip.

The sticky hand shot out and grabbed a sandwich, and at the moment of impact, Perry exercised his Spendthrift perk to keep the thing held together.

A moment later, Perry was eating a tiny sandwich, pleased at having fulfilled a childhood dream.

“Mmm, tastes like sticky-hand.” Perry said.

“Probably would be wiser to just use your hands.” Truthslayer said, looking displeased at her coworkers.

“Hey look, open bar!” Nocturne said, gravitating towards the row after row of fine Manitian champagne, tilting his Anubis mask back to reveal an unfortunate underbite as he began nursing a bottle wholesale.

“What are we doing here, exactly?” Guile asked, among what Perry would think of as ‘the professional three’

“We…are waiting for the host to make an appearance. What we do up until then is a non-issue. Enjoy yourselves.”

Fwip.

“Is it necessary to use your sticky hand to acquire everything?” Chemestro asked as Perry retrieved a glass of some kind of mixed juice from the bar, using Spendthrift to make the liquid too viscous to splash out in transit before rendering it normal again.

Perry locked eyes with the poster child for steroid abuse.

“…Yes.”

Perry felt a tug at his sleeve and spotted Nat looking up at him with pleading eyes.

She pointed at the dance floor.

She missed out last time we went to one of these things, Perry thought. Even if I die tonight, she should at least get her dance. Perry shoved the drink and toy in Chemestro’s hands before taking Nat’s.

The next hour was a magical time, slow dancing with Natalie and Heather to Christmas music poorly performed on traditional Manitian instruments.

The sound was bad, but the hallucinogenic musical effects of the enchanted instruments made up for it, as the other dancers turned into slowly twirling pine trees frosted with snow, lending the illusion of a perfect moment shared only with the other dancer.

Natalie blushed hard and stepped on Perry’s toes occasionally as they danced, but it wasn’t a problem. She only weighed ninety pounds, after all. What was important was how much she was enjoying herself, her racing heartbeat, and the trembling in her fingers and legs as they brushed against his own.

The pure emotion transferred into him through those trembling brushes against his skin, setting all his nerves alight.

After a few songs, Nat reached critical blush and swapped out with Heather to fan herself off and drink champagne.

Is she 21 yet? Perry thought as Heather clasped his hand and they began slowly traversing the dance floor.

Heather matched Perry better in all respects, save personality. Heather’s body slid around him like fine silk, subtly using her power to achieve a level of grace that an unaltered human couldn’t hope to match.

That look in her eyes, though. Pure competitiveness.

“Just ‘cause you’re the mother of my children doesn’t mean I’mma take it easy on you.” Perry said.

“It’s cute you think you can keep up,” Heather said, dropping his hands and heading over to the band, where she requested something a bit more challenging.

A short time later, they were whirling across the dance floor, glaring at each other and having the time of their lives as the other dancers slowly fled the floor to give them room.

Perry wasn’t naturally a talented dancer, nor a particularly experienced one, but with his Body and Nerve as high as they were, it came easily enough. He learned instantly, and his reflexes were fast enough to fix any mistakes mid-step.

“You’re gonna have to do more than get flaccid,” Perry said, accommodating his balance as Heather swooped around him unnaturally quick.

“Oh?”

Heather split in two as her soul exited her body.

Perry caught her wrist with his left hand, tugging her back towards him in a spin that brought her to his chest, facing away.

“Nice try,” Perry whispered into Heather’s ethereal ear.

Perry felt a shiver travel down Heather’s spine for a brief second before Anya pulled his other hand. She was animating Heather’s physical body, which still held his right hand.

He unrolled from Heather and allowed himself to be tugged into Anya’s arms, the ghost grinning up at him with Heather’s face.

“This hardly seems fair,” Perry muttered as Anya lowered him into a dip, taking the lead. She leaned forward, bringing Heathers face inches away from his own. Alarms were blaring in Perry’s mind as Anya’s lips brushed against his own, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Perry was frozen until out of the corner of his eye, Perry saw Heather’s ethereal hand, and he took it. Anya let go of him, and Heather drew him back up into a twirl, leveraging his superhuman strength to recover from the awkward angle.

Perry danced to the best of his ability with the two, attempting to navigate the murky waters of dancing with two people at once.

Despite Perry’s best efforts, he only had one body, and eventually had to tap out, leaving Heather standing victoriously in the center of the ballroom, rejoining her body. The cheater.

Perry was somewhat surprised at the applause from the surrounding spectators as the two of them went back to the tables.

Perry collapsed into the chair beside Nat, borrowing her folding fan.

“You guys are fantastic!” Nat said with glittering enthusiasm. “You should dance more often. At home. While I watch.”

“Perv,” Heather said, tousling Nat’s hair.

“That was cheating,” Perry said. Anya kissing him wearing Heather’s body had wildly thrown him off his game.

“All’s fair in competitive ballroom dancing,” Heather said with an evil grin.

Perry liked Heather’s evil grin.

The soft sound of a microphone turning on filled the air, informing Perry that the time for fun was running short.

Perry grabbed another three tiny sandwiches and shoved them in his mouth while the audience turned to face the raised stage where the musicians had ceded the area for a well-dressed servant with a microphone.

“Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce the host of the twenty-fifth annual Frepon Christmas party; Charles Frepon!”

Chuck emerged from the curtain with a bouncy step, seemingly reveling in the wave of applause cresting as he arrived at the mic.

“Good evening my fellow Manitians!” He said, launching into his prepared speech as he scanned the audience. “I believe Christmas holds a special place in all of our hearts. It doesn’t have to have the same meaning for us for it to mean something. It represents unity. A bonding between ourselves and the people of Earth, and the Frepon family is glad to…”

He met Perry’s gaze, freezing in place.

Perry winked.

“…fuck.”