MY BEST SELF: Princess Fay

Resolving GET OUT OF DANGER: My best self. Absorb Princess Fay and banish Dreadful Love Fay. Lose Morgan as a FRIEND. Gain Tess as your FRIEND. Regain MIND MELD.

Now that you know your demons a little better, confronting them face to face, it's time to make some choices, before the thought-forms bearing your seeming, Dreadful Love and Princess Fay, tear each other apart.

It's come down to who do you want to be.

Fuck. Fay has the weepies again.

You kneel down to where the thought-forms are struggling, grab each of them by her platinum-blonde hair and tell them "STOP."

They stop. At least you have Mean Girl Fay on your side and not in your face. It still doesn't stop the weepies, but Mean Girl helps you hold your face taut and pretend it's not leaking.

"Sit up, you two," you say. They sit.

Princess Fay gives you The Look. Dreadful Love Fay gives you a frown. Your shoulders clench.

"Fay," you say, addressing Dreadful Love. "Stand up with me."

You face off, one hand on her shoulder. Such hunger, such doubt, almost despair. I hate how much I love you.

"Stay here." You repeat the admonition to Princess Fay. It'll last a bit. You turn away and walk toward the little store of materia magica that the secret apartment holds. You're sure there's something that will do. A bottle. Pale blue. Rosemary, that's for remembrance. Faceted. Prism-cornered, throwing rainbows. That one.

You tuck the bottle away in a pocket of your gold-trimmed brown robes, along with your wand.

You return to your two seemings, your own **** love of Morgan, Tess's idealized vision of her princess. "Hold," you caution again to Princess Fay. She acknowledges with a nod as she sits upon the floor.

"To me," you tell Dreadful Love. You stare again, eye-to-eye. Yes, it's time. "Fill yourself from me." You step forward and embrace her. When your lips touch, you fill her full of all the love you've taken from Morgan, filling her hunger and need, until she's full and you feel quiet stillness inside.

No more weepies for Fay.

As Dreadful Love stands, looking a little lost, but dreamy, full for the moment, you conjure a compulsion around her. CHARM helps her stay calm, to trust you. You feel a little hollowness inside. In a burst of resolve, you conjure her into the bottle and bind her. Thrice times three you seal the bottle, thrice times three you ward yourself. The hollowness turns into lightness, the lightness into eager desire. You wrap the bottle in purple silk, nine times round, and tuck it into your robe.

"Come to me, beloved," you tell Princess Fay. Extending a hand, you lift her to her feet. Her eyes brighten, no longer distant and haughty. "Come to me, my better half, Galatea of Tess's dreams." Your eyes sparkle at one another, glacier-blue to glacier-blue, under fine brows and white-blonde crowns of silken hair. How much in there is you, how much is Tess, how much is simply the shape that fills a longing? "The one who got away." So beautiful, so clever, so dazzling. Does she ever doubt?

You give Princess Fay one final command. "Let me fill myself from you." A sparkle in her eyes, desire or fear or madness, you know not. But she lets you guide her, as you lower yourself to the floor, to lie on your back, your face staring up into her sex. Her perfect sex, fringed with the finest platinum fleece, a perfectly curved mound, her labia a long pink bolster parted to show her pinker, brighter inner lips against her paler-than-ivory thighs. At a touch on her knees, she bends, descends, her fragrance a maddening, jasmine-and-lemon-blossom elixir, her sex dripping nectar as her thighs bend, in which, as her labia squish down upon your nose and mouth, you finally taste yourself, a hint of sour cream and musk. You lick, you slobber, you gorge upon Princess Fay's ambrosial confection of a cunt, at length lighting upon her swollen clit, a fat little olive to your own shy pearl. You lift your arms to grip Princess Fay's soft buttocks, her silken skin. Cake. The cake of Tess's dreams. There's a tingle on the back of your tongue, a little sparkly feeling as you drink in Princess Fay with your lashing tongue and your sucking lips.

Princess Fay's thighs tremble. She locks her legs tightly to the sides of your head. She threads her fingers through your hair and cradles the top of your head. Without a sound, her hips buck, grinding her cunt hard, harder, harder yet into your face. Pain, your teeth cutting into the inside of your lips. Her limbs lock tight, and finally her voice rises in a high scream.

With the fragile boundaries of her fragmentary soul erased in ecstasy, you seize the moment and suck Tess's dream lover into yourself.

When you're able to compose yourself and rise to your feet, you feel a thrumming through your aura, overfull with Sad Girl Fay and Mean Girl Fay and Princess Fay, yet loose, unbound, with gaps where Dreadful Love Fay and **** Lost Fay no longer abide.

But you feel more yourself in this moment than you've ever been.

"Fay, you're bleeding," Tess says. There's only one of her. She's wearing Library Girl's glasses, but her ear is still overgrown into the bat-like cup she transformed it into before you faced down the throng of fragmentary Tess and Fay things.

She seems to be back together, if a little alarmed by having been beset by her sad, bad, mad selves as solid thought-forms.

"What?" you say.

"Your chin? Your lip, there," Tess says.

You lick your lips. Bloody. Your brow is throbbing, a swollen egg from when you and Mean Girl Fay butted heads. One cheek tingles with heat from the slap you gave Mean Girl Fay. Your scalp hurts a bit from where she pulled your hair.

"Your ear?" you prompt.

"Oh." Tess strokes her fingers over it, once, again, a third time, and it flows back into itself. "Transformation is so easy here," she says. She peers at you through Library Girl's glasses, her coppery eyebrows lowering. "Fay, is something wrong? You look different."

"Nothing's wrong," you say. "Not really. But you can kiss it better."

Tess leans forward. "Well, well, well, Fay, what were you eating?" she says, her nostrils flaring as she takes in Princess Fay's heady sexual scent. She laughs. "Or who?"

Your lips meet. She jolts with shock and pulls back.

"Fay!" she says. "You didn't?" she says. Her mouth droops open and she stares.

"I did," you say.

"For me?" she says.

"Find out yourself," you tell her.

She searches your face, a suddenly-unfamiliar landscape. You call on Princess Fay to lend a look in your eyes.

"Fay? Is that still you?" she says.

You wait her out. You can feel her doubt, her desire. Tess is part of you now, a little bit.

You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows.

Tess throws her arms round you and crushes you tight, sobbing. When she lifts her head from your shoulder and meets your eyes, you feel that lightning-crackle of a connection that you'd known so often in Minerval.

"You did it for me," Tess said. "You did it for me?"

"I did it for me," you tell her. "And you're part of what makes me. What made me."

Tess looks on you in wonder.

"Let's go home," you tell her. "Let's go home."

The little bottle with Dreadful Love Fay still rides beside you. You're not sure why you kept her. An impulse. But she was so much of you, for so long, she turned you inside out with her hunger for love.

And now you don't need her.

A quiet emptiness where once there would be weeping. Raging. Fear.

Morgan, sweet Morgan, who had saved you with her love from being only Mean Girl Fay. Who would you be to each other now?

With the thought-forms gone, there's surprisingly little sign of the struggle now concluded.

"I'll lift the wards and banish, and let's go home," you tell Tess.

Tess nods her head, the chains of her Library Girl glasses swinging with her motion.

You uncast the warding circle and banish, banish, banish, leaving House Beavertail's secret apartment cleansed of all the frightful, hungry striving.

You're tired, but feeling triumphant in the strangest way. Who are you now, Fay Applebum, who are you now?

Just hoping you don't wake up with a headache.

You have Ambition +2, Bravery -1, Cunning +2, Diligence +0 and XP: 2
You may use either STAMINA or MIND MELD as a Sex Move.

FRIEND: Tess Lectura, House Beavertail, originally of House Minerval.
FAVOR: Morgan Woodbine, still your roommate, late of House Minerval.

You have a date to HAVE SEX with Cook, who walks about in a mouthwatering scent cloud of cinnamon apple tart. Or does she hold a different scent for you now?

Roll +DILIGENCE(+0) to ENCOUNTER Morgan upon your return.

⚀⚀ + 0 = 2, Miss.

On a Miss, describe how Morgan reacts unhappily to your sudden change of heart.