Disclaimer: I do not own Worm, the Slut Life CYOA, or any other CYOA or work mentioned or used in this story. They belong to their respective copyright holders. Please enjoy.

Recruitment 1.0

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"Where am I?" Taylor groaned woozily as her sedatives slowly wore off. Then her final memories hit. "The locker!" she exclaimed, bolting upright. Taylor gasped in pain as the sudden movement caused a previously minor headache to flare. Her heartbeat echoing in her ears as it suddenly began pounding didn't help. She tried to not hyperventilate, more because she didn't want to breath in any more of that vile air than she had to than in order to keep calm.

"Ah, Miss," a voice began before pausing a moment, "Hebert. Greetings." As Taylor blearily looked towards the speaking blob, it continued. "My name is Jacob Tricher."

"Who?" Taylor asked.

"Now," the man continued, "I don't expect you to have heard of me. Our corporation doesn't have much of a presence in your neck of the woods, yet. We're looking to change that, however. Starting with you." He paused again, but continued before Taylor could comment, "Ah, yes, your myopia." He held out what she knew had to be his hand. "Here are your glasses."

Taylor took the glasses and put them on, watching as the blur resolved into a man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, wearing a suit. "Thanks," she said, giving her glasses the final adjustments to make them comfortable. Now, what did you want with me?" Taylor immediately repressed the twinge at how plaintive that sounded.

"Hm, yes," Jacob Tricher mused. "You probably would like an explanation."

"That would be helpful,"Taylor replied dryly.

Jacob leaned forward. "Alright, let's start with the basics. This company is the premier television network here, calling on talent from many worlds."

"Many worlds?" Taylor interrupted to ask. "You mean I'm not on Earth Bet? Did you kidnap me?!"

Jacob visibly winced. "That is one way to interpret it, yes," he began. Holding up a hand, he quickly continued, "However, we prefer to view it as conducting negotiations away from distractions. If you turn down our proposal, we'll return you back to where you were, none the worse for wear."

Taylor relaxed minutely. At least they weren't going to force her into anything, assuming Jacob was telling her the truth. "So, you're what? So kind of recruiter?"

"Essentially, yes," Jacob agreed. "It's my job to find suitable candidates who might be amenable to joining one of our shows. When I find someone suitable, we bring them to a corporate office, where we discuss the details of the offer. Those who agree are sent on to Legal to hash out all of the details of their contracts, and those who don't get sent back to continue with their lives as though this opportunity had never presented itself."

"That sounds, reasonable," Taylor offered. "So I'm in your corporate office, while," she looked down at herself before finishing, "still in a hospital bed. Is this how you meet everyone?"

"Ah, yes, that," Jacob began with a nervous chuckle. "You're something of a special case. The reason you're in a hospital bed in a gown instead of in a chair and dressed, is that we didn't want to make you uncomfortable by dressing you while you were still sedated. As for the rest… we are not in the main office." He paused for effect before continuing. "Due to special considerations in your case, we are currently in orbit. We'd normally be on the surface, but there are… issues we'll need to see to first."

Taylor blinked. What issues could cause… Only one thing made any sense. "Am I a parahuman now? Do I have powers?"

Jacob took a moment to flip through a file before replying, "Ah, yes, that is the nomenclature used. Yes, you are a parahuman. Unfortunately, your mind is having issues dealing with the increased stimuli, so we decided it would be easiest to remove you from the stimuli before having this conversation. If you agree to our proposal, we will slowly acclimate you to the stimuli until you can function normally regardless."

"What are you talking about? What kind of stimuli?" Taylor asked.

"According to your file, your terminology would rank you as a mid-tier Master, with the ability to see through the senses of those you control," Jacob explained. "The human mind is not used to being bombarded with the senses of a few others, let alone what you were experiencing, so your mind hasn't had to to learn how to process all of the additional input yet."

Taylor had a sudden, sinking suspicion. "And what happens if I decide not to agree?"

Jacob put on what looked to be a practiced grimace. "Should you decide our offer is not for you, we would be legally required to return you to your world as you currently are. Our doctors believe it'd take at least a week of near catatonia for you to adjust in those conditions. Depending on your parents and the hospital, you could either be discharged into your parents' care or sent to a dedicated facility for the duration."

"But-" Taylor protested, "my dad can't afford that!"

Jacob shrugged. "Unfortunately, our company can take no responsibility for your welfare beyond ensuring you are returned to where we picked you up properly. There are provisions for cases when doing so would result in your immediate death, but this is not the case here. Ultimately, should you reject this opportunity, you and your father will be no worse off than had we not made the offer at all."

"Fine," Taylor growled, crossing her arms angrily. "And don't expect me to forget that you still haven't explained what you want from me." After a second of thought, she added, "Or what your company is called."

"Ah, right," Jacob began, leaning back in his seat. "We would you to be a contestant in a reality TV show we host."

"A reality TV show?" Taylor asked flatly. "Really?"

"Oh, yes," Jacob confirmed. "It really is quite popular the universe over. If you join, cameras would broadcast your life for all who wished to watch. In return, based on your length of service and the choices you make, you would have to potential to receive quite the impressive reward. Of course, most of that would be explained in further detail by our Legal department. And you may find a few, though not many, of your options restricted in light of your abilities."

"That doesn't sound too bad. What was that about length of service?" Taylor asked. "I don't want to be away from Dad too long."

"I wouldn't worry to much about that," Jacob said encouragingly. "One of the rewards would have you back in your bed picoseconds after you left. He wouldn't even need to know you've gone. In fact, if I recall correctly, that option also includes a decent cash payout, which could definitely help your financial situation." He paused for a moment before continuing, "As to the length of service, that's really all up to you. While you can, and many do, choose to remain a contestant in perpetuity, the standard term is one year and can be extended up to ten years. The shortest term you can do is six months."

"Seems reasonable," Taylor agreed.

"And it would give you plenty of time to adjust to your new powers," Jacob added. "So," he continued, pulling out a single paged form and a pen. "What do you say? Want to be a contestant? This form just says you're willing to join up. The full contract would be handled by Legal."

Taylor looked at the paper with some skepticism. "This'll give me time to figure out my powers, get me enough money to help Dad, and get me back before he can miss me?"

"If you pick the right rewards, certainly," Jacob said smoothly.

"Fine," Taylor decided. "I don't want to end up in the mental ward or something. I'll sign up."

"Great," Jacob said cheerfully, passing over the paper and pen. Once Taylor had given the contract a quick look over, glancing over the SL logo without comment, and had signed it, he continued, "We, at Slut Life, are happy to have you as our newest contestant."

"Wait, what?" Taylor demanded, her eyes snapping fully open as she stared at Jacob.

"Now, remember," Jacob said as he retrieved the papers from Taylor's limp fingers and shuffled it back into his file, "while the details of your contract will be worked out later, the Contestant Registration Form you just signed is binding."

Taylor continued gaping at the man in disbelief.

"I'm sure you're still recovering from your ordeal, so I'll leave you to get your rest. We'll have something delivered shortly to begin your acclimation to your abilities and some food for when you get hungry. Get a good rest, we're expecting great things from you."

As the man left, Taylor could only ask, "What did I just sign up for?"