LUNA/LNH: Leadership Crisis Net.ropolis 2023 #12

[Jeanne Morningstar]

LEADERSHIP CRY.SIG NET.ROPOLIS 2023
Issue #8
Unlimited Maid Works
By Jeanne Morninstar


The first known sighting of the Office was in the time of ancient Sumer, 
in cuneiform tablets in which grain merchants seeking to performordinary 
transactions complain of becoming lost in a palace of endless twisting 
corridors. However, it is likely far older than our world and indeed our 
universe.

For as long as the Office has existed, there has been the Instrument 
which is its heart, which grants power and dominion over it–originally a 
chisel, today a Red Stapler. And as long as the Instrument has existed, 
there has been the Great Game–a contest built to find the one worthy to 
wield it.

The last Great Game, in which I was involved, ended with the 
Instrument’s destruction. Since then, the Office has been unstable, 
easily swayed by powers such as Acton Lord. A mage or, more likely, a 
god with the right amount of power and determination might be able to 
restore the Instrument to life by channeling the Office’s energies 
through a suitable archetypal focus.

But I am not sure the world would survive another Game.

–research notes of the August One


    		 [lcs_2023]


A while ago, Masterplan Lad, quite against their will, had started to 
jump plots. It all started shortly after they got their wings, when they 
were in the Peril Room, still trying to figure out how exactly they 
worked. They’d fallen sideways through reality and found themselves in 
the other side of Net.ropolis, where a tsk.force had been assembled to 
try and deal with the Post-Time Shifter. At first they had assumed that 
was just a side effect of their foe’s continuity-mangling powers, but 
then they found themself pulled while taking a shower into a delicate 
diplomatic meeting between the free Dorf and the Remymikii on Webster’s 
World, which led to embarrassment for all concerned.

They’d gone to Doctor Stomper for help, who determined this was more of 
a magical-narratological rather than a pseudoscientfic-narratological 
problem and sent them to Occultism Kid, the new one. Which is what 
they’d been dreading. They weren’t exactly looking forward to take 
magical life advice from a teenager.

"So here’s your problem," said Occultism Kid. "You and your Writer have 
been through a whole slew of life-altering events lately. You’ve become 
unmoored from your original purpose and haven’t quite found a new one. 
Am I right?"

"…yes," said Masterplan Lad.

"Okay. So what you need to do is…"

"Yes?"

"You need to sit down and just concentrate on your breathing for five 
minutes."

"That’s… it?"

"Yep. Well, you’ll learn to meditate for long periods later."

"That’s just what my therapist told me."

"Well, they were right. The thing is, your background means that you’re 
very good at a lot of advanced things but struggle with more basic 
things. You are more skilled at abstract narrative magic than just about 
anyone else, even me. You’re used to advanced spiritual techniques and 
inhabiting spiritual planes. Your problem is you’re not used to 
physicality. You have a body now, and you have to learn to live with it."

"… I see. So… mindfulness practice, then?"

"Let me tell you something. When I was a kid, I used to hear about that 
all the time.  And here in America all that mindfulness stuff has been 
commodified to hell and back. But the annoying thing is, it works."

So Masterplan Lad sat down and breathed for a while, and the irritating 
thing was, it did work. It wasn't something they could think about for 
very long, though. They still fundamentally weren't used to having a 
body. All these sensations and reactions–heartbeat, breath, arousal–that 
weren't, generally speaking, under their consicous control. The flood of 
sensations that went with taste and touch. It made them miss the days 
when they were a being of pure spirit that only took on a body 
conditionally, but those days were long gone.

Now here they were, staking out the waterfront at midnight along with 
Manga Girl. Preparing for a fight, one of the two contexts in which they 
were the most immediately conscious of and vulnerable in their body.

The being they were tracking, the Unknown Ninja or whatever they were 
calling them, did not seem to leave any kind of presence or trace in the 
world. They were surrounded by a narrative void, just as Kid Unknown 
was. It was troubling to have to deal with even one such being, let 
alone two.

"Any sign of that ninja?" said Manga Girl

"Hmm," said Masterplan Lad. "No. If I had to take a guess, I'd say 
they're in the water."

"Really? Net.ropolis just shifted to the Great Lakes like five hours 
ago. What kinda sicko would want to swim in there?"

"Ninja are a breed apart."

They looked at the choppy waters of the lake and saw nothing. "Getting a 
little tired of waiting over here." Manga Girl stretched out her arms 
and cracked her knuckles, infinite movement barely contained within a 
human space.

"No," said Masterplan Lad. "Believe me, this is the appropriate moment 
for a dramatic confrontation and it should be happening right about..."

They saw the ripple in the water before they saw the ripple in the 
narrative flow, somehow. Either way it was too late.

The ninja's sword flowed from their scabbard and aimed itself at 
Masterplan Lad. Instinctively they reached out to block it with their 
umbrella, remembering too late they no longer had it. They unfolded 
their wings and tried to strike at the ninja with them instead. But 
barely anything had been written since they'd lost the umbrella and 
gained the wings, so they were unused to them.

But the ninja was just as confused by the sudden appearance of the wings 
as Masterplan Lad themself had been. The surprise threw the ninja off 
their rhythm long enough for Manga Girl to hit them with a perfectly 
executed drill-kick.

Masterplan Lad stretched out their wings and, sending out narrative 
vibrations, sought to pierce the narrative void and reach the being 
contained within. Their feathers jingled like bells. This should be over 
now–

But the world was beginning to lose focus around them.

Too late, they tried to center themself, pull their mind away from the 
battle, feel the movements of their body. But something deep within 
their body held them back. They were in a grip of a spell, and the 
vibrations of their body were feeble in comparison to the vibrations 
which held them.

Space fell away, the matter of their clothing rearranged itself.

They reached their hand out to Manga Girl, but she receded into the 
distance, to fight the ninja alone.


    		 [lcs_2023]

    		
In an empty room, before a meticulously drawn magic circle, a magician 
stood. She took her phone out of her pocket and pressed the button on 
the gacha app, laying it in the center of the circle. She took her place 
before it, her ostrich by her side.

It's time for Maria Hart to join the Game.

All over the city, the other mages from different factions were 
preparing themselves and summoning their Servers. One space had been 
left empty. Traditionally, there'd be room for a Trenchcoater in the 
Game, and most Trenchcoaters quite rightly wanted nothing to do with it, 
so that meant it had to be her.

If any of the others had known about this, they might very well have 
asked what the hell she wanted with the Universal Office, considering 
that the Office is the source and summit of Order itself, and the magic 
of the Trenchcoaters is completely antithetical to that.

But Maria wasn't even doing this for herself. Well, she was a little 
bit. Controlling the Office would make it a lot easier for her to get 
ahold of estrogen.

But mainly, she was doing this for Victoria.

If she had control of the Office, she could rebuild the link to the 
Infinite Library and get her past back. For that, anything would be 
worth it.

She wouldn't even need to keep control of the Office once she was done. 
Acton Lord could go take it over again for all she cared. (Was he dead 
now? Was there another one? Not her problem.)

She knew damn well that she was going into the Game with a lot of 
disadvantages. She did not nearly have enough money to pay for all the 
microtransactions on the app. She'd be up against enemies with deep 
pockets, like the Wizard Mafia's representative, and truly powerful 
mages like the one the Kiwi Council was fielding.

But she could win if she was determined and clever enough. And she was.

She pricked her finger with a pin and scattered three drops of blood in 
the circle.

"C'mon, c'mon," she whispered. "Baby needs a new pair of shoes..."

The sigil began to glow with a pale blue light.

With a sharp burst of pain the symbol appeared on her outstretched hand.

"Grawk," said Sunny, the Ostrich, her familiar.

"You said it," whispered Maria.

Within the circle a figure began to take shape. What kind of thing would 
her Servant be–hero, legend, god or demon?

When the light faded, there was someone with wings stretched out behind 
them, wearing a maid's outfit. And she knew them immediately.

"I ask... Are you my Client?" they said.

"...Dee? Huh. Shoulda figured..."


			[lcs_2023]


NOTES:

Of course the Fate series parody that Drew vaguely set up in the last 
chapter was something I was going to jump in on. Just as Drew did with 
the Ultraman homage I threw their way. I'd been wanting for a while to 
do a Lunaverse-focused cascade involving Maria and exploring different 
magical factions in Net.ropolis and now... I guess that's this one.

The Client/Server terminology was Drew's suggestion, as was the title.

Masterplan Lad, Occultism Kid III, Maria, Hart, Sunny: Jeanne Morningstar
Manga Girl: Jeanne Morningstar via Amabel Holland
August One/Occultism Kid I: August Yang

-- 
Jeanne Morningstar, The Confused Cyborg
Chief Procrastinator, Commission of Ecumenical Translators

I believe the hyperbole
I see the fourth colour
--King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, The Fourth Color