Egress: Act 1, Act 1, Scene 4
[[When your instincts say that something should be acknowledged in the fiction but doesn’t need to be played out, or you just don’t feel like it, you can abstract it to a well-worded Oracle, or Strive if you like. I don’t use this tool as often as I ought to; my instinct is to create more fiction and named things. You can spend a Light Die to declare an Oracle answer after rolling, based on the fiction the LD stands for. One of Calypso’s inner workings is that you are the one who decides what warrants rolling for or spending resources on, and what’s worth ignoring or narrating past.
Oracle: did Pony escape from his room in time for breakfast?
Spend LD “Wacky Antics”: Yes, but it was very silly.]]
After a scene of capturegrid hijinks that read funnier live than archived, Pony managed to calm down by conforming to a routine, even an imaginary one: clean his glasses, tie his hair back, get dressed in his school uniform as if it were an ordinary day, take out his cello, and play his daily warm up.
That’s much better. Now things are beginning to make sense. All he has to do is USE KNOB on IMPOSSIBLE DOOR, and everything will be back to normal with both dads none the wiser.
[[Oracle: Is Fox Dad Pony’s first Link?
Yes, but: expose a past mistake’s consequences. His dad let him sleep in, and now he wants to talk.]]
Pony, descending the stairs, realizes the grave danger he’s in when he smells batter from the breakfast nook. Short, scruffy, apron-wearing Fox Dad is cooking on the stainless steel waffle iron Wolf Dad got him, which he only does on special occasions, which means that Fox Dad considers this morning a special occasion, which means he is going to Ask How Things Are Going.
They’re better than they were, he thinks. He’s definitely staying busy: advanced classes, test prep, table tennis, scholars league, city youth orchestra, future accountants club. He’s more or less eating in a healthy way, now that he dropped swimming after the meltdown at the meet, (god that was dumb he’s such an idiot why is he so fucking stupid.) He doesn’t have much free time to waste. He’s not being bullied at the new school. He still spends the first part of lunch in the library, browsing webnovels and message boards, but he eats with his classmates for the last ten minutes. It isn’t bad, Pony thinks, it’s just — not real. Empty. He’s eating shame. He knows why it feels so miserable to look at his reflection, but he can’t find the words to name it. It’s easier when his parents assume things are okay and he’s a star student. Staying up late and oversleeping troubles the illusion.
He’s too dutiful not to sit down. Just then, of course, Capture Mode activates. In AR, the Hateno family breakfast nook becomes an inescapable cell with a bright spotlight, and Pony is subjected to CROSS-EXAMINATION, protecting his resistance bar against a gauntlet of waffles and guilt.
[[So Fox Dad engages Pony in conversation. That Overwhelmed trauma must be making him turtle up lately, and his parents wonder what’s going on. With his Spill condition on top of Conformist, Pony will have a hard time keeping his mouth shut. What do they talk about? I draw a motif: youth.]]
Fox Dad has a glint in his eye. He thinks he knows what’s going on.
[[Strive with Teenager 1, with disadvantage due to Conformist trait. Pony tries to impress his former-rascal dad by playing at being a cool troublemaker to cover up something weirder and more online.
Goal: avoid mentioning Egress.
Danger: he wants to spend the day with Pony.
6-: Fail. He admits he was up late installing Egress, this new alternate-reality game, and now Fox Dad sees an opening for some much-needed father-son hangout time skipping school to play it. Awful! +1 DD tho.]]
In the spotlight of AR interrogation, a fox tail sways behind his dad’s apron. Egress has interpreted him.
The interface fades. He’s just a guy again, having breakfast with his weird teen. Egress beeps.
[[In addition to a new Link, Pony adds a relationship condition, Fatherly Follower 1. I note that Fox Dad has a condition of his own, Involved Parent 2, which will have to be accounted for. Pony’s parents aren’t the let-him-run-around-on-his-own type. His Escapism happens through a book or a screen.]]
Pony admits that he’d kind of like to do that. Fox Dad beams. Pony can’t say no to that enthusiasm.
His cursor hovers over the Forest Lake town map, and Fox Dad comments as he moves it.
Pony rubs his temples. Rain is beginning to patter the windows of the breakfast nook, so he goes and gets an umbrella.
They drive through the labyrinth of lawn-lined streets in their copy/pasted subdivision. Pony can tell that his dad wants an excuse to get out of here, too. Over the rhythmic noise of the windshield wipers, his dad discreetly turns down the volume on the Bacchanalia CD left in the player to continue their conversation about youth. There’s nothing here for Egress to eat, so no stylish dialogue boxes.
Fox Dad says Pony should savor this; it’s a lot harder to take a day off for any reason when you have a regimented corporate job like Wolf Dad’s. Is that what Pony wants? Pony says yeah, he thinks so, it pays well, and he respects Wolf Dad for doing it. Fox Dad smiles at that, but just with his lips. Pony looks out the rainy window, adds that he’d love to work in forensic accounting and ferret out troublemakers and cheats, the people who take advantage of the system to scam people. It isn’t untrue, and he thinks his dad will want to hear it.
The real truth is that Pony wants to be someone else. He wants a different body, a different history, a different mind, a different personhood. He wants to have been someone cool and interesting and alive, like Ruby, or even Axel. When what he really wants is impossible, the future becomes likelihoods and probabilities, not things to strive for with all his heart.
Pony tries to articulate something like this to his dad without disappointing him. He tentatively says that it might be hard to keep his hair long in a corporate job, and maybe he’ll just try accounting while he keeps looking for something new. Or, Fox Dad suggests, he could become a musician. He’s quite skilled. He could play in an orchestra, or even start his own little ensemble. Pony makes a quiet sound of imagining it. Fox Dad adds that he’s just saying there are more possibilities at his age than Pony maybe realizes. Pony says that he’ll think more about it.
Ms. Ban, the owner of Little Ms. Tea Shop, is wearing a much fancier apron than Fox Dad was this morning. He’s plainly jealous. Pony and his family have been coming here since he was a kid, and they all know she won’t spill about him showing up on a school day. Some green tea is just what he needs when he’s “under the weather,” anyway.
As they await their mid-morning tea, Fox Dad peers at Pony’s screen and asks how you “claim a Node,” anyway.
Like Axel, Pony is prompted with little AR nodes as Egress reads the tea shop. There’s one right in front of them: a tea ceremony challenge where he’ll claim the node if he can follow all the rules properly. Pony’s a natural rule-follower; he accepts the challenge, and Egress learns something about his preference profile.
But — oh no — a troop of yellow badniks file into the tea shop! These ones have binocular headsets, WALL-E looking little goons. They’ll be attempting a tea ceremony of their own, with a different set of rules and rhythm cues! Can Pony throw them off and complete his own challenge?
“we’re imps too.”
[[My co-player’s suggestion was English vs Japanese style tea ceremonies. basically they’re playing a rhythm game. I add an obstacle condition to account for: Yellions-1. Follow the increasingly-complicated protocol, find harmony with the rain, savor the subtle flavors correctly, and collect points!
Strive with Studious 1, +1 for Fatherly Follower: Fox Dad is helping out, keeping him on beat. He also rolls with advantage from his Theme Music light die: Activate!
Goal: Claim the tea shop as a Node by passing the rhythm game!
Danger: The Yellions break stuff in the shop!
10+: Full success! Pony nails it and avoids the danger. I get to take a bonus when I roll 10+, including reducing a condition: I clear Pony’s Spill 1 condition as he finds confidence in a win!
The final total is 13: for this game, whenever I roll 13+, I keep a Score die for later.
I also happen to keep a 5 on this roll, which is a Clock match. I take that cue to mark a Strife Specibus for Pony.]]
The Yellions are a challenge, but Pony’s an expert at music and etiquette and self-discipline and drinking tea. At the climax, Pony hops down from a precarious shelf, floating like Princess Peach, and clinks teacups with Fox Dad as his foot touches the ground, toe-first. (the Yellions spin helplessly on a lazy susan overstacked with cups…then they poff away.)
Pony is rewarded with XP, a new Node, and (to his confused excitement) UMBRELLAKIND as his new Strife Specibus, whatever that is.
[[Conditions: Rueful Rolemodel •, Adversarial Ally •, Fatherly Follower •
Trauma: Overwhelmed •
Light Dice: [Theme Music], Dark Dice: 3]]
[[Clock: 4, Score: 1]]