>>6126165>>6126175>>6126238>>6126280>>6126289>>6127041Steeling yourself, you back off until you nearly bump into the wall at the far side of the room.
<span class="mu-i">Jenova! Deactivate!</span> you mind-shout.
The extension of the top bottle disappears in a flash, and so do the spare bubbles in the one with water. You hear a series of loud pops, and almost jump as you shut your eyes out of instinct and clasp your hands against your ears. Good thing you did, because as you take a peek at the scene there are shards of bottle glass that flew a good way from the table, stopping just a couple feet away.
The vacuums produced by the empty space where the air bubbles were managed to destroy the water bottle and break the air bottle pretty badly. Water with glass fragments in it is dripping on the antique wood of the table, while the remaining bottle is rolling on its side with cracks snaking down its neck and a battered but mostly intact body.
Stepping over the transparent carnage, and noting how a few bits of glass ended up stabbing the ceiling and wall, you get a closer look at the better-preserved bottle. Even the patterns of the cracked edges seem rougher and more fractalline than your average broken glass.
Pinching one of the larger shards on its smooth surface, avoiding its sharp edges, you set it down again and fractal it out from one corner. Your makeshift blade lengthens. With another shard, you crack off part of the cloned tip. The end that falls off disintegrates immediately, leaving nothing behind, but the rest of the larger clones remain. Good to know!
Before you can experiment further, or at least clear away the glass, you hear a stomping in the hallway and knocking at the door. Someone else in the mansion must've heard the noise. Jenova bobs over in the air to float at your side.
You shove open the door; it's Terrence. His hair is half-done up and his face adorned only with a tired scowl.
"Is everything alright?" He leans into his toes and looks at the crime scene behind you, then flinches a little at your shiny new Stand. Then he sighs. You note Terrence is already clutching a mop and bucket in his hands; this mansion has definitely seen its regular share of messier occurrences. Before you can answer he shoves past you wordlessly, then leaves the room. In a minute he returns with a dustpan, broom and gloves. You realize his sigh was relief that the only liquid he was cleaning up was water.
>Ask D'Arby what his first impression of your Stand is.>Offer to help clean up.>Just take anything you need for today from the room and go downstairs. He's the butler. 