Innverse Stats | The Roots (Pt. 3)

Name	Text
Mrsha	The door closed, and the very last thing Mrsha saw was her own face wearing a look of disbelieving fear.
Mrsha	And Mrsha wondered if she’d killed herself. Or just turned off another reality where she’d landed on her back and gone exploring. She didn’t know.
[Pavilion of Secrets]	She did know she’d watched herself die, breaking her neck when the [Pavilion of Secrets] had hurled her into a wall in its wrath. And witnessed another reality where her mother had gone looking for her and never come back.
Mrsha	Mrsha, the real Mrsha with a bloody bandage on her head, sat down and pulled something out of her bag of holding. It was a little journal that Teacher Shassa made her keep for school. Mrsha pulled out an auto-inking quill, a gift from Selys, who hated the inn now, and wrote a few lines.
Mrsha	Mrsha, the real Mrsha with a bloody bandage on her head, sat down and pulled something out of her bag of holding. It was a little journal that Teacher Shassa made her keep for school. Mrsha pulled out an auto-inking quill, a gift from Selys, who hated the inn now, and wrote a few lines.
Shassa Weaverweb	Mrsha, the real Mrsha with a bloody bandage on her head, sat down and pulled something out of her bag of holding. It was a little journal that Teacher Shassa made her keep for school. Mrsha pulled out an auto-inking quill, a gift from Selys, who hated the inn now, and wrote a few lines.
Mrsha	Mrsha, the real Mrsha with a bloody bandage on her head, sat down and pulled something out of her bag of holding. It was a little journal that Teacher Shassa made her keep for school. Mrsha pulled out an auto-inking quill, a gift from Selys, who hated the inn now, and wrote a few lines.
Selys Shivertail	Mrsha, the real Mrsha with a bloody bandage on her head, sat down and pulled something out of her bag of holding. It was a little journal that Teacher Shassa made her keep for school. Mrsha pulled out an auto-inking quill, a gift from Selys, who hated the inn now, and wrote a few lines.
Mrsha	If I am real. Now I don’t know. I’ve never asked myself if I was real. If someone closes a door and I vanish, I think…I’d be upset. Because I feel real. But what if I’m not? What if I’m another Mrsha in a door?
Mrsha	Mrsha hesitated. She got up and slowly opened the door that had shown her the Mrsha with a bad back. She peeked inside and saw the alternate-reality Mrsha standing there, staring at—
Mrsha	Mrsha hesitated. She got up and slowly opened the door that had shown her the Mrsha with a bad back. She peeked inside and saw the alternate-reality Mrsha standing there, staring at—
Mrsha	Mrsha hesitated. She got up and slowly opened the door that had shown her the Mrsha with a bad back. She peeked inside and saw the alternate-reality Mrsha standing there, staring at—
Mrsha	Mrsha shut the door fast.
Ryoka Griffin	If anyone finds this message, I really didn’t mean to fall through the hole in the garden. I swear; I was just looking, and I had no idea the Faerie Flowers had been growing roots. Damn things. Ryoka never told me the flowers sucked.
Ryoka Griffin	1. All the other realities kept calling Ryoka ‘Ryoko’ for some reason. That’s stupid. Why?
Rags	2. I can sort of read the thoughts of people, even if they’re not me. Or get, like, a summary of their lives. Can I do that with more than just Rags? I thought it was just me.
Sheta	3. Is there an Empress Sheta creeping around here or was it just the imagination of the alternate Mrsha?
Mrsha	3. Is there an Empress Sheta creeping around here or was it just the imagination of the alternate Mrsha?
Mrsha	4. None of the other realities knew about the fae. They thought they were stories. If I know about Faerie Flowers and their roots, does that make me the real Mrsha?
Mrsha	She studied her list. Then, Mrsha looked down the hallway that was so much like the one the other her had been exploring. A long, endless hallway.
Mrsha	With a few quirks in her reality. Mrsha stared up at the ceiling, which was, instead of a roof, a second hallway. She concentrated—and flipped into the air. Gravity inverted; what was up became down, and Mrsha landed on her feet on a new ground, now staring up at where she had once been standing.
Mrsha	With a few quirks in her reality. Mrsha stared up at the ceiling, which was, instead of a roof, a second hallway. She concentrated—and flipped into the air. Gravity inverted; what was up became down, and Mrsha landed on her feet on a new ground, now staring up at where she had once been standing.
Mrsha	Okay. Mrsha rested her paw on the door’s handle and hesitated. But then—she steeled herself and opened the door.
Mrsha	Not fully, but just enough so she saw that fraction of another world in there. Mrsha carefully and deliberately left the door ajar, fishing something out of her bag of holding.
Mrsha	When she looked up, her shoe was still on the ceiling, keeping the door open. Mrsha nodded to herself. If she had paint, she could have marked the door. As it was, she just memorized the door—it was black marble and had a stone handle. Then she turned and began walking back the way she’d come.

The door closed, and the very last thing Mrsha saw was her own face wearing a look of disbelieving fear.

And Mrsha wondered if she’d killed herself. Or just turned off another reality where she’d landed on her back and gone exploring. She didn’t know.

[Pavilion of Secrets]

She did know she’d watched herself die, breaking her neck when the [Pavilion of Secrets] had hurled her into a wall in its wrath. And witnessed another reality where her mother had gone looking for her and never come back.

The Roots (Pt. 3)

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