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A tall, gray-haired young woman. This was a description often given to Stelle by onlookers, and though a bit plain without any of the more fun variants or add-ons, was not something Stelle minded or disagreed with. However, on the Express, she did sometimes feel as if she did not properly earn the moniker of tall.
Particularly when Mr. Yang unthinkingly put their shared favorite cereal on the top shelf, just a little too pushed back for her fingertips to reach. That sasquatch of a man. It was totally unfair.
Groggy with clinging sleep, Stelle stared up the first mountain to Trailblaze for the day. There was, of course, a stool kept in the supply closet at the end of the Passenger Car next door for this very reason. However, not only was that back-tracking and more walking, but it was totally giving in. Maybe Pom-Pom needed it, bless their short legs, but Stelle was the mighty Galactic Baseballer! She would not be defeated by a mere, unattainable three to four inches!
Unfortunately… her usual method was not as viable anymore. After the Great Pantry Crash, it was determined that the shelves could no longer support her greatness. Also, Pom-Pom would actually kill her if they caught her trying again. Even now, mostly decided against it, Stelle double-checked to make sure the Conductor was not in the car. Stelle was not afraid of any challenge. The Conductor’s wrath? Well… That did not count.
Anyway. Problems existed with a myriad of solutions, and Stelle was a master of Trailblaze Solutions (trademark pending), so why would she give up at one or two dead ends? Nay! The tall pantry was hers to conquer!
Stelle summoned her trusty baseball bat, nearly doubling her reach. Her weapon was an extension of her, and she, an extension of her weapon. Together, a paltry few inches will not stop her! Ah, but alas… the blunt end of the bat, perfect for strength-fueled walloping, failed to do anything but push the cereal box further back. Oh cruel world! If only the bat could grab, or reach underneath the box with precision, but the beloved curio was sadly unable. Stelle supposed it would be unbalanced otherwise, even if Stelle had no qualms about a little bit of over-powered skills in her favor.
Speaking of the universe’s attempt at balance, Stelle decided to personally blame HooH THEMSELF for the absolute travesty that was her inability to scale vertical surfaces. Why did gravity have to be so unfair? If walls were flat, why not walkable? Stelle could not help but to feel as if she had been slighted, somehow—just like how jumping did nothing to let her grab the box.
Although… Stelle poked the support of the pantry experimentally. The shelf could not hold her, but perhaps if she were to use her grip strength to haul herself up the structure itself… Maybe…
Stelle was puzzling through the conundrum of needing to brace her knee against a shelf in order to gain height when the door to the kitchen car slid open. Stelle startled backwards with a very dignified yelp, thank you very much, and craned her neck from the floor to see who disturbed her concentration, so she could come up with an excuse accordingly.
Dan Heng was giving her that tired, judgemental-amused Look from the pantry doorway. “Do I want to know?” he sighed.
Oh thank Akivili. Stelle was saved from Pom-Pom’s wrath, and also the supreme defeat of Mr. Yang flaunting his height and getting the box for her. Even Himeko, with her scant inch on Stelle, might be able to crush Stelle’s pride. March and Dan Heng, on the other hand, could do little to harm Stelle’s mission. In fact… An idea occurred to her in a flash of inspiration.
“Dan Heng!” Stelle scrambled to her feet. “Let me borrow Cloud-Piercer!”
His Look, amplified by his current lack of caffeine, would have been enough to cause anybody weaker to reevaluate their entire repertoire of life choices. But not Stelle! Stelle was gaining a hard-earned immunity to his draconic gaze of inflicted common sense.
“Why?” Dan Heng asked simply, raising a skeptical brow at her polite grabby hands.
“I need cereal. Gimme.”
Cloud-Piercer, cool as it was, did not hold any special superiority over her trusty bat; however, Stelle would admit it had one crucial thing her collection of summonable objects did not: a flat blade. Stelle could totally use the blade to scoop the box like a pizza out of one of those fancy ovens. Stelle was a genius.
Dan Heng, that killjoy, clearly did not agree with her.
“Or,” he said, moving closer, “I could simply get it for you. No improper weapon use involved.”
Oh that was cute. He was so sleepy he was in denial. “Dan Heng. My dear, beloved Dan Heng. We are the same height, my friend. I’d like to see you try.”
Dan Heng hummed in the back of throat with that patented unimpressed noise he made. Then, as Stelle held his gaze steady in implicit challenge, he suddenly ceased to be at her eye level.
Stelle knew she was not free from the Morning Haze, but hallucinations?! Say it wasn’t so! But Stelle blinked and Dan Heng was still taller than her, vaguely smug looking as he grabbed the box with ease, his eyes gaining a backlit glow.
Stelle looked down to where Dan Heng’s feet hovered a few inches off the ground, the watery tint of cloudhymn gathered at his heels.
…She forgot he could do that.
Dan Heng landed silently, and the subtle shine of victory replaced the glow of cloudhymn in his eyes. “Here.”
He handed her the cereal box.
Stelle was forced to accept defeat.
“Cheater.”
“You’re welcome.”
—o0o—
Stelle craned her neck up to the rafters, where the imaginary-powered paper airplane was very stuck. An old fairy tale about flying too close to the sun came to mind as it became clear that time would not knock her beloved experiment loose. Joy.
The emptied out car was all bare bones and exposed scaffolding, because Himeko never finished renovating it, but ultimately it made the car perfect for training and other activities that Pom-Pom strictly forbid in all the furnished cars.
It meant she had nothing to break.
Stelle eyed the support beams. Hmm… Yeah, Stelle could work with this.
She would be lying if she said that she had not been sorely tempted to climb all the scaffolding before. Or at least attempt to. Stelle had not yet had the occasion to try (again, after she faced defeat the first six times) but today she had a goal! And with a goal, the universe’s ploy to stop her from climbing shall surely not come to pass!
Stelle made it a decent height before the door opened.
“You wanted to show me your—?” Mr. Yang stopped when he spotted Stelle. “Stelle. What are you doing?”
“The airplane thingy I was going to show you got stuck,” she explained, trying not to think about how embarrassing it would be if she fell in front of Mr. Yang with all of his dad-energy. “I totally got it.”
“Ah, Stelle, that is really not necessary. That is quite the precarious position,” Mr. Yang said, already jumping to Dad Mode. He sounded like he did when he had stopped her from trying to climb all the shipping crates in Stargaze Navalia, too. Killjoy.
“No, no, I got it,” she insisted. It was not like Mr. Yang could argue with the need, this time. Not even he could reach the Express car’s ceiling! Unfortunately… Stelle realized that her section of scaffolding was quickly coming to a sizable gap between her and her quarry. Drat…
Then suddenly Mr. Yang was there, floating in the air with a barely perceptible ripple of power around him. He retrieved the stuck plane and regarded her with concern. “As much as I respect your determination, I do think that this would be a nasty fall, even for you. Perhaps you should find your way down,” he suggested.
Stelle gaped. “Mr. Yang, since when could you fly?! Wait…”
She belatedly remembered the fight with Phantylia. Unfortunately, Stelle had been too preoccupied trying to survive to appreciate all of the cool abilities of her companions at full display, but Welt’s weird gravity weapon always managed to do more than she expected it to.
He looked a little sheepish. “Ah, it’s a minor ability. I suppose our adventure together on the Luofu did not grant much opportunity for it. It is a bit hard to explain, unless you are interested in how imaginary space and physical space repel each other?”
Sounded sciency. “That’s fine. I believe you.”
He chuckled. “Very well. Need a hand?”
Going down was harder than going up. “Nah, I got it.” Stelle had to preserve her pride, after all.
She made it back down with it mostly intact, but it was enough time for her to gain indignation. Seriously? Mr. Yang was ridiculously tall and he could fly? Stelle had been robbed.
—o0o—
Stelle had seen him do it before in Penacony, of course, but it had slipped her mind until she saw Sunday in the Parlor Car, duster in hand, floating near the top of the windows. She was suddenly reminded that the universe was not fair and her status as being above-average height was an absolute sham.
“Et tu, Sunny?!” she wailed, utterly betrayed.
He looked down at her with a bewildered expression. “Ah, Miss Stelle? I am afraid I am unsure of what the problem at hand is… Also please refrain from calling me that.”
Oh poor Sunday. He would learn her nicknames were immutable. But that was not the issue here.
“You can fly.” Nearly half of the Express’s passengers could fly, now, and she was not in that number. And Stelle still was not convinced that Pom-Pom couldn’t, when nobody was looking. Oh cruel statistics… Was it because…? She inwardly gasped. Was the universe sexist?! Surely it was not so!
Sunday blinked at her owlishly. “Well… I am a Halovian…” he said slowly.
Right, that meant Robin could fly too. Stelle retracted her private accusation. Still. If Stelle ever came into contact with the Equilibrium, or whatever other universe game dev there was, she was demanding at least the ability to jump higher.
“So you are…” she agreed, turning away. Unwittingly, she left Sunday very confused and concerned as Stelle retreated to her room to plot how to summon the gaze of HooH.
—o0o—
“Did you find it alright?” Himeko asked, rounding the corner of the shelving unit of the storage car.
Stelle looked over from her vantage point, halfway up the shelves. They were built sturdier than the pantry. She hoped.
Himeko stared.
Stelle stared back.
“Need a hand?” Himeko prompted, clearly amused.
“All of the fliers are cheaters,” she declared. “I will prove that we gravity dwellers have our ways! I will be the first to restore our honor.”
“The first, huh?” Himeko’s regal face curved into something mischievous. “I am afraid I must challenge you, then.”
No… “Himeko… Not you too…”
With a flick of her wrist, Himeko’s drone materialized and flew over her shoulder, gaining altitude. It plucked the desired box out of the air with a robotic arm.
Stelle had been bested on her own biological playing field.
“I concede,” she admitted heavily.
Himeko walked over to pat her on the back. “You will find your own way, young Trailblazer.”
—o0o—
“Hey, who is that?” March called from the pantry. “Stelle? Hey Stelle, I need a hand!”
Stelle entered the pantry to see March pointing to a can on the edge of the top shelf. “Can you grab that for me? Pretty please?”
She stood on her toes and managed to knock the object into her grip. Success! She conquered the edge of that frontier, if not the plane that existed beyond it. Still, the taste of victory, no matter how small, tempered the bitterness of past defeat.
“Thanks, Stelle,” March smiled.
Stelle placed a severe hand on March’s shoulder. “No, thank you, March,” she said sincerely. “For being shorter than me.”
“Aw, thanks, that’s so— Wait! Hey!!!”