Tell us we shouldn’t hate success.
A few days back from whenever you want this item to appear, a great media event took place. A famous band, formed from members of the public based on a reality TV show, sought for a new member. The announcement brought hundreds of hopefuls down to audition – and one of them was Emily Andersen.
Like all of them, she tried. Like most of them, she was turned down. Unlike most of them, after being turned down, she killed herself.
Shortly afterwards it was discovered that the winner of the audition was, in fact, a professional dancer who entered the audition and was known to the judges. Many of the population were filled with fury at the idea that all of the public hopefuls had been wasting their time, but the producers argued that they had after all chosen the best entrant, and they had no rules stipulating that professionals couldn’t enter.
Emily’s rejection slip, still tear-stained, is still lying on her bedside table in her house. But because of the circumstances involved, it’s more that it once now. It channels all the bottled-up misery, envy, and fury felt by some of those who have learned that they’ll never have their dreams. Maybe they shouldn’t feel that way, but they do, and it’s there. Everyone who’s ever been told that life isn’t fair – regardless of how unreasonable their demands – has some place in Emily’s Rejection.
What it does: The effect of Emily’s Rejection is simple, and brutal. Any person who handles it for the first time is immediately struck by a Blast dealing damage equal to the number of people who are jealous of, or hate, them.
Note that it has to be people who are jealous of them specifically. People who are jealous of a general class that they’re a member of don’t count. However, people who have contained, or “dealt with” their jealousy, do count – if jealousy of that individual is in their Id, it doesn’t matter if the Ego has controlled it.
This means that the vast majority of people can handle it without too much trouble – they might feel nothing at all, or a vague, nagging pain somewhere. However, the consequences if somebody better-known got ahold of it do not bear thinking about.
Fortunately, it’s easy enough to destroy. Just tear it up. A torn component of Emily’s rejection still deals damage, but equal to the proportion of the original that it is (eg, if it’s torn in half, taking a half deals damage equals to half the number of people jealous of you, rounded down). Shred it, or rip it into confetti, and it’s gone for good. Writing or drawing on it does not affect it, and neither does including it in something else. This provides a nasty shock to anyone who thinks they can recognise it by sight.
Take it? Destroy it? Post it to your enemies? How many people do you think might hate you? But do something. If you don’t, the dancer who took her place in the band will visit the house to attempt to save face with a respectful broadcast. The single person who is the cause of jealousy and hate for hundreds of people will be handed the slip on live broadcast TV.
You don’t want that.