Wrangling teenage emotions is hard enough on good days, but what if on bad days they could manifest as giant flesh and blood monsters?
Pacific Rim meets Friday Night Lights as knee-jerk rebel Sage Sawyer is forced to join her high school "tourneytub...
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Roaring, the crowd greets her.
Talia Amphigore. The once and future Jackalope. She soaks in the noise. The applause. The Warren, come alive for her. She feels their collective thunder like a thousand pats on her back.
She made a mistake, but now she has returned.
She steps Calypso out onto the court.
To be back in her own cockpit, gripping her old trusty yoke?
To smell the scent of fresh grass beneath her tub's pulsesteel feet once more?
Tonight suddenly seems infinite.
It may be cold. It may be drizzling. The stars may all be covered by an endless squall of clouds below them. But the lights are on. The thaumaturges are manifesting their humors. The umpire is about to blow her whistle.
The Jackalopes' last game was played in a lightning storm miles and miles away, but the electricity has still somehow managed to carry over.
Talia can feel it in her bones.
At the other end of the court, the Jackalopes' opponents, the Redbloom Comets, stalk about back and forth, their powder blue and red tubs shimmering in the dampness. Sparkling water droplets, lit up by the floodlights, stream down their pulsesteel armor plating. They look about as ready to go as she feels. Both teams' cities are gathered all together at the center of each turf, set beneath large earthen mounds. The Comets' mound may look sturdy, but Talia is pretty confident she could blast Calypso right through it. She smiles. Grits her teeth. Rolls her tub's shoulders.
Behind her, Peter has already manifested an incredibly oversized burgundy bird. Like an eagle, but bigger. Nastier. Angrier. Talia could have taken over the manifesting duties tonight, but she wanted to focus on wrangling. On moving about the court. On speed. Staring down Peter's monstrous thunderbird humor, Talia is reassured, once again, that she made the right choice. Peter has certainly learned how to become the best thaumaturge on the Jupiter Jackalopes. No one can deny that. Not anymore. Not even her.
On the other side of the court, the Comets' thaumaturge, in a tub called Gollygosh, has manifested a humanoid humor, surrounded by an ever present fireball. This being, made entirely of flame, swoops out from its manifestation station, just as Peter's thunderbird follows suit right past Talia in Jackalopes turf.
The gauntlet has been thrown.
The whistle has been blown.
Game on.
Peter subs out for Gee while Talia quickly plans her own course of action. She watches as both humors charge one another, clashing in mid-air just above the central mosh ring.
Their tussle is fiery, feathery, fierce...
Meanwhile, Sage and Gee are busy shielding Jackalopes city from the two Comet wranglers baring down on their position. They understand tonight is Talia's night. She's supposed to be the hero. They're just here to facilitate her. For the first time since the accident, Talia thinks maybe she misjudged Sage Sawyer.
