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expiationmeme2023-01-23 02:02 am
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
Welcome to the TDM for Expiation, a pan-fandom adventure game with fantasy, science fiction, and sometimes subtle horror elements. We ask that top-level comments are reserved for new characters and players looking to experience a taste of the world and overarching storyline. Feel free to submit any TDM / prompt-related questions to the corresponding comment below.
New players / characters looking to app are free to use TDM threads as samples in their application. Preexisting players / characters may use TDM threads as part of their AC proofs.
You may find the below links helpful in getting to know themes of the world, locations, the people, and so on.
A WARM WELCOME
The journey here has not been a particularly convenient one. The last thing you can recall is the room of blinding white and the incomprehensible voices that were speaking about you. Then came the dropping of the floor beneath you and suddenly you were falling into black. As you come to and regain a more clear vision of the world about you, you find that you are surrounded by pleasant greenery.
Deciduous trees are sprinkled here and there in some miscellaneous fashion. There are plants and flowers all about, the chirping of birds. Above you rests a fairly clear sky with a dotting or two of clouds. The sun is pleasant. Overall, it’s comfortable. Perhaps too comfortable.
MEADOWLANDS ARRIVAL
Within eyesight, though you can’t possibly know the footing distance, there appear to be fields. A portion of them dedicated to long stalk vegetables and the rest a neatly organised collection of leafy greens. Upon closer inspection, you’ll find that some of these look ready to be picked right away. Not much further past the fields are other buildings. Simple in style and not at all grand in structure or make. There’s people, too. It looks lively. The locals will tell you that you’ve set foot in Aldrip.
Not far from you, in fact relatively close if not in hand already, is a rolled parchment bound by a rather nondescript twine. If you unfurl it, you’ll find a generic welcoming message addressed specifically to you.Welcome to Expiation. We, who have found you so worthy and deserving, have declared you to be one of the Chosen.
The cryptic written greeting is followed by a collection of recorded statistics—physical and mental attributes, along with other observations about your person that clearly weren’t made by you (but may not necessarily be inaccurate).
Nearing the bottom is a peculiar line—You have been charged with ▬▬ and in accordance with the doctrine of this world, you have ▬▬ until you will face your sentencing. Prepare your defence adequately or face the repercussions.
In spite of that strange little addition at the bottom, which may or may not make sense to you, you’re not the only one arriving in the meadowlands. You have some options. Maybe check with a nearby fellow otherworlder, scour the fields, meet the locals. First impressions, after all, can sometimes last a lifetime.
WILD COMPANIONS
The collective of newly-arrived aren’t the only ones exploring the meadowlands. Curious about the various sounds created by those not native to the world, there are animals living in and near the surrounding areas drawn to the attention. Different types and sizes of birds and beasts or other creatures that may resemble ones from your home world begin to close in on your location. Do they mean to do you harm or are they only simply wary about who you might be and what you’re doing?
Some of them are incredibly friendly, especially if you’re inclined to provide them with food, or if they’re younger and they simply don’t know better. But be aware, for every young animal, there is likely to be a parent not far behind, and less inclined to be understanding of your strange fate in this new predicament. As such, no matter how cute something may be, reconsider taking it with you, else you may simply stir the ire of their families.
If you find yourself in a position where you’ve inadvertently stepped into a territory not meant for you, you’ll need to find either a strategic escape or resort to force and self-defence. Fortunately, some of these larger, more aggressive beasts, are much the same ones that the locals in Aldrip have been seeking to cull for the safety of the citizens. Maybe you can make some fast friends with the Expiation natives by bringing them something you’ve had to put down.
THOSE WHO WERE THERE
Those Who Were There are what the locals refer to their gods as, considering them responsible for their continued growth in the world, the abundance of their crops and sea life, the greenery that surrounds them, native wildlife, and some of the strangely advanced luxury items that make their livelihoods a touch more convenient.
You’ve arrived at an opportune time. Although the peoples of the continent freely show their appreciation for their higher beings, every once in a while, they celebrate by way of joyful festivals, grand songs, and more expressive means of their devotion.
FESTIVITIES
Aldrip seems to be a bit busier than usual, with a little more foot traffic than what may be considered a normal day in the life. There’s music in the air provided by lutes, panpipes, and the dulcet tones of men and women alike, expressing songs and tall tales of those they have come to revere as celestial beings. They believe that honouring their betters can be done with song and dance as much as it can be with offerings and prayer.
The town is bustling, a plethora of additional street stalls selling all kinds of local cuisine, jewellery, weapons, and accessories branded with insignias that represent the same wave motif as can be found on the charms every newly-arrived will receive. There’s raucous laughter, a plethora of drinks (alcoholic and non) that are passed along merrily to those wandering through if one doesn’t have a drink already. It’s the perfect way to integrate yourself with the people whilst taking in the celebration.
A portion of the town has had the land cleared, set up with a minimalistic coliseum ring for archery competition and one-on-one combat. Winners of these exchanges don’t get anything grand, but are presented with plenty of free food and drink, and some may even be awarded with some modest badge accessories from the local shops for providing the people with some sport.
Out by the fields, closer to the shoreline of the Talion Sea, there’s a grand pillar of fire that’ll burn all through the day and into the dark of the night where more music follows and accompanies spirited dancing.
SENTIMENTAL OFFERINGS
If you’re searching for a momentary reprieve from the bustle of the festival, there’s a modest walkway of cobblestone that will lead you from the main streets of stalls, drinks, and making merry. Following the way it winds and curves will eventually take you to an elaborate display of dried flowers, jewellery, fanciful cloths, and other items. Some of these hang from nearby trees. Some are draped over an altar fashioned of dark wood.
A local who spies you there kindly explains that it’s a place to leave items of offering for Those Who Were There, as gratitude for all they have granted their loyal people. They also explain that the more sentimental attachment you hold for the item you give up, the more pleased the gods will be with you. What does that mean, exactly? It’s difficult to say, but it seems that it might endear you to the locals at the very least.
Those who leave an item will receive a noticeable wave-like mark on the interior of their dominant hand wrist, almost as if it’s a brand of some kind. This is temporary mark and will only last the length of the festival, but if locals see it, they will be more inclined to give information on the land, the people, and perhaps even extra drinks, food, or shop wares.
Even if you don’t leave an item, as you’ve only just arrived and you may not have much on your person, the locals won’t punish you or think ill of you. It’ll give you a chance to gather yourself before you go back to the festival proper. If you choose to go back at all. The relative quiet is so welcoming, after all.
THE GLITCH EFFECT
NO SIGNAL
If you’ve arrived in this world with a mobile device or something akin to (notebook, laptop, and so on), you’ll find that whilst there are no electrical outlets, there are slender and flat platforms available to keep items of this nature with a charge. You cannot connect to a network and there’s no signal for a connection to grapple onto. That said, programmes that don’t require a connection to be of use (note taking applications, calculators, games), are still operable.
You may find, however, in the use of these programmes that perhaps images are not displaying properly. The colouration may be inverted. There may be unexplainable lines drawn across graphics. Text may not accurately be presented, instead a jumble and tangle of letters, forming what looks more like a mass of verbal tendrils across your screen.
Bizarre and strange sounds may emerge from your device, sometimes a low hum that may be indiscernible to others. Sometimes a high frequency that lingers in the air. It may be just a flash of sound. It may be several seconds long.
Furthermore, it is possible that you may find strange imagery imprinted on the screen temporarily, even where there should be no graphic at all. It’s there for a moment or two before it fades away, almost as if it’s subliminal messaging. The strange imagery is difficult to make out—a highly detailed eye, or perhaps what appears to be an angular face. No two images will be the same, though some may hold some eerily similar depictions.
This strange happenstance will occur periodically until the festival reaches its conclusion.
STATIC BUZZING
Don’t think if you didn’t arrive with a mobile device or related that you’re free from some of the strange electronic phenomena. Devices that are native to Expiation will experience similar errors. The difference is that the devices as a collective (personal computers, printers, cameras, the platforms for charging devices, and more) will emit a fluctuating and repeating frequency of sound cycling from high to low. Some will be able to hear it, some will not, but for those who do, it will come accompanied with a static buzzing sound, as if a connection somewhere is on its last proverbial legs.
There isn’t a means to stop the sound from emerging without depowering the device in question and even the locals don’t seem to know what to do. There are several devices strewn about Aldrip, however, so even if you should unplug one, there will be others expressing the same assault on the ears. Aldrip’s people don’t seem particularly alarmed, however, explaining to those who ask that this sort of thing simply happens every so often, and should they but have faith, Those Who Were There will handle all things ‘in good time.’
Unlike the personal devices brought in by newly-arrived, the electronic devices of Expiation will not display incorrect / jumbled graphics, text, or bizarre flashing images, which may be considered a blessing in disguise, despite having to experience the potentially annoying hum. This strange occurrence, too, will mysteriously end once the festivities have drawn to a close.
Hythlodaeus | FFXIV | OTA
[Of all the things Hythlodaeus had expected the Lifestream to be, rolling fields and a boundless seeming azure sky were certainly not close. Nor, for that matter, was the discussion. For the brief moment that he could not open his eyes or take stock of his surroundings, the sound of voices, so many voices, seemed to pervade all aspects of the senses left to him.
He thought- for a moment anyway- that he could detect multiple souls- yet in an instant, the conversation all but falls dead. He is left to solitude- standing alone some distance away from distant hills- blinking at both the shock of suddenly finding solid ground under his feet, so very much to see, as well as the sudden sensation of a faint breeze carrying temperature and scent.
The nearby structures are marked of course- and, quite simply, for lack of anything else available to him at this moment, he heads toward them. Shakily, at first. For it had been so very long since he had experienced the simple act of walking, yet he does make it without incident.
And of course, there is the matter of the parchment.
It is a small curiosity as to how exactly the bound strip of paper does not simply blow away on the gentle breeze- yet due to none coming to claim it for themselves, it is not long before it is unfurled.
...And yes. That's most certainly quite a lot of information on him. Rather formal too.]
A Chosen? I daresay quite the mistake's been made...
[Much less the accusation. That garners a rapid blink.]
Surely not.
[He cannot help but look around. And, upon finding the first plausible person, they are taken for a local.]
Greetings! Might I ask where I would find a representative from those who preserve order here? I fear they have quite the wrong impression.
A warm welcome (wild companions) ◢
[Hythlodaeus could not help but be impressed with the sheer variety of fauna that could be observed on the outskirts of the smaller settlement. There was all manner of things viewable to his eye- creatures large and small, some all but identical to organisms that he himself knew rather well, and some which were unknown- nothing short of fantastical.
It was the former that had put him into quite the spot of bother.
As he had neared a babbling, gleaming brook, something had caught his eye. An ambystoma- he was most certain. Something, at least by the laws of his star, uncharacteristic for the fact that it was alone, likely separated from its kind by the current.
Normally, he would be resolved to observe. For normally, anything that could not survive by its own merit had no business being alive. But what could be said? He could not help the fact that he had affection for his particular animal. And that, sadly, was his mistake.
He had barely put a foot in the water before the ground shakes. The cause of it soon presents itself. An enormous eft, clearly the tiny creature's mother, slimy, clumsy, and remarkably bulbous, lumbers directly toward him. It opens its maw menacingly- emitting what can most accurately be described as roaring displeasure.]
...Oh dear.
[The ambystoma, now in Hythlodaeus' hands, shrieks with delight.]
Those who were there (Festivities) ◢
[Mad accusations and vengeful slimy mothers aside, coming here was not without its joys. And truly, the festival was right up Hythlodaeus' alley. After what had seemed all but an eternity of somberness, of silence, of such terrible terrible despair, Hythlodaeus seemed to have no issue whatsoever with integrating themself into the festivities.
It had started, as most things tended to, with a drink. A drink had led to his lingering over a troupe of dancers attired in so very bright colours, their movements unlike all he had ever seen- which in turn had led to open admiration of the music being played so skillfully, so merrily- more than a few lighthearted conversations, and of course, open appraisal of the goods and wares offered by the merchants.
He is informed over each of the items held within his hands, of course. The storekeepers are more than content to tell him about each of their goods- long tales of how the stones for the jewellery are sourced, how the colours of a particular ring suit him so very well, how he should try some of the local cuisines- yet all are met with the same inescapable truth. Regrettably, although the wares are so very charming, the food appears so very delicious, that as a new arrival, he simply has no means of payment to hand.
That is, until one storekeeper points toward the archery ring. He is told that perhaps an exchange could be on the cards, and while to the storekeeper he has most certainly laughed it off, returned the wares and (jokingly) asserted that he anywhere near a bow would be the cause of a terrible accident, Hythlodaeus, as he lingers on the outskirts of the ring, cannot look anything but tempted.]
Those who were there (Sentimental Offerings) ◢
[As the festival had worn on, Hythlodaeus had taken great pleasure in exploring each and every avenue, every winding path, and every nook and every cranny which had been in sight. Some paths had taken him to more bizarre stalls- some holding charms and food that seemed unlike all else he had seen before. Some had taken him to groups of revellers enjoying private company and private music and discussion of private topics, yet the most recent path he had taken had led to something else entirely.
It is a solemn affair, most certainly. The reverence the people display to the altar of immaculately preserved flowers, shimmering jewels, and heavy, labourously created cloth is palpable. And Hythlodaeus cannot help but follow suit. These are not his gods. His faith had ever been in those around him, and the culmination of their efforts- yet this place...
... His lack of knowledge, of faith, did not make the display any less special. There is effort here. He is certain. There is reverence and there is faith- and that is enough to make the display mean something.
After he is given a small explanation of a great number of things- of what the altar means, of why their people leave their tributes in this place, by a helpful local, he finds himself bringing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose- something which is covered, of course, by the crested mask that adorns it.
Perhaps the sentiment is the effect of more than a few drinks by now, coursing throughout his system. Or perhaps it is the fact that obscuring his features in line with the ideals of those from his star long gone- his own ideals- are hardly worth anything any longer.
He removes it.
And silently, he lays it upon the altar.]
A warm welcome (wild companions | for old time's sake)
[The parchment was read with brief, practiced efficiency and put from his mind - for the moment. After all, the accusations within are not precisely false. Yet he's far more interested in gaining some understanding of where he is and how he came to be here. And why he is here and not drifting within the deep, quiet tides of the Underworld.]
[He learns swiftly that he is not the only one, yet among them none seem to know any more or any less than he has already surmised. And with that does his exploration begin in earnest - and that leads him to a color which is bright and pure and half-remembered. 'Tis like awakening from a nightmare and succumbing to a fever dream; both, simultaneously.]
[What choice has he but to find where it leads? So follow it he does. With heavy (and hurried) steps does Emet-Selch come across the brooklet which (presumably) leads out towards a larger body of water. And there, planted firmly within the sights of a comically large eft - is Hythlodaeus.]
[Although he will never admit as much, to anyone, it takes Emet-Selch some measure of fortitude to keep his tone even, even bored.]
Can I not take my eyes off of you for one moment without you delving headfirst into some manner of mischief?
[Not even the most charitable of Ancient historians could conceivably refer to 12,000 years as "one moment", but leave it to Emet-Selch to try. He raises his arm, dark energy blooming at his fingertips.]
Set the thing down.
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Of his Sight, absolutely. Yet moreso, his heart. His soul. His all. Taking notice of any of the brilliant hues of any of his own kind's soul here, of all places, would have been a given. Regardless of the circumstances. Regardless of the time, the place. For their souls had always shone so much brighter than all else.
Yet this man- this dear, dear man- His soul... it is all but blinding. To him, it permeates all.
He does as bade. He leans, so slowly, toward the water's edge, allowing the tiny pink creature to enter the water. And instantly, darkness envelops him. Teleportation, but of course- and instantly, he finds himself at the other man's side.]
Hades...
[Never mind the fact this dear friend is preparing to cast something!
Never mind the fact the eft may still decide to charge!]
Do forgive my saying so, yet I must ask. Were you not taller?
[Height is hardly the crux of the physical change visited upon this man from the last time they had seen each other. But it serves to address all of it. On Hythlodaeus' part, he cannot help but smile.]
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[Though he had provided his true name and his true face to a certain hero deep in the depths of the Tempest, it has been centuries, if not millennia, since someone last called him by it. A real someone, that is, and not simply a phantom of his own creation. Hearing it now, his soul wavers for the barest blink of an eye, his brows arching in unobscured surprise.]
[Yet why is he surprised? There is nothing surprising about any of this, other than the timing, the circumstances, and a certain absent sense of triumph. He had lost. Yet despite that and his own waning memory of those halcyon days, the Hythlodaeus before him is real. He has no doubt. For who else could appear so pleased with himself for reaching such a conclusion about his current form? And at the worst of times!]
Of all the things you could have said to me, you're truly going to open with that?
[Wrenching his focus away from that mirthful smile, Hades scowls at the mother eft. The smaller creature has wobbled through the water and found purchase clinging to the other's side, yet the adult beast's displeasure still rumbles audibly.]
[A barrier? Or an enfeeblement perhaps...? Hades huffs, the sound hissing through clenched teeth.]
You're just as insufferable as ever.
[Though that is not necessarily a complaint. (It is a complaint.)]
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The first being the eft of course. Which has, by the by, all but signalled its coming attack with the sudden arching of its back and the filling of a large mucus sac overlaying its throat, ready to fire a rather disgusting projectile- The second, the vague, creeping, so very familiar ache of guilt that all but gnaws upon his soul. Saying that, for the moment, it is a simple thing to push both aside. The creature, he is most certain, will not pose a problem given who is beside him. The reliability of the man alone, Hythlodaeus is certain, would see the beast felled before it could even fire.
The guilt...
Well.
He has felt so much guilt. So very much of it. Could he not just cling to the single sense of joy he has experienced for millennia?
To do so is selfish. It cannot be denied.
And yet, he does. Because anything- truly anything- other than sorrow, other than guilt, is everything.]
Oh, come now. [His voice is even, steady. Betraying the smallest laugh of sheer delight.] Your body is very much changed. Do you truly think me unconcerned?
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[That hardly sounds like a fashionable entrance, now, does it?]
[An impatient sigh follows, energy crackling and rising over the span of Hades's gloved hand.]
Nay. I think only that you could spare a sliver of attention for your large amphibious playmate rather than simply leaving me to clean up after your mess!
[He hurls the spell directly at the creature just as its mouth has begun to open. A purple haze disperses about the beast, causing its arched spine to flatten and its sorry excuse for limbs to grow limp and insubstantial as it sinks onto its own belly there in the shallow water. Still - at least for the moment.]
[Hades slowly straightens, lowering his arm - though not before realizing that he has stepped foot into the stream in order to stay the creature and is now up to his ankles in brisk, silty water.]
[The sound of that laugh, he supposes is reward enough, so long as they can be done with the thing and move on to someplace dryer before it reawakens.]
...If you are so concerned.
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[Well. He would have finished that thought, but the spell has already gone off. And yes, he cannot help but halfturn in amazed wonderment at the effect of Emet-Selch's magicks- at how such a furious creature could enter such a deep, docile sleep in all but a moment- though his attention to it (nor the ambystoma atop it) does not last long.
Almost immediately, his gaze is back upon the man before him. And he cannot help it- never could, really- but there is most certainly a hint of smugness to his voice.]
Precisely as expected. Your skill with magicks never ceases to amaze.
[But oh. Oh dear. The bottom of the strangely coloured robe that the other is wearing seems rather soggy, which as he would expect, would result in quite a great deal of distemper. He moves to the edge of the riverbank, extending his hand to him.]
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[Hades does not, as it happens, accept the proffered hand. He does, in fact, glance at it, and for a moment is seems as though he might take it, might wish very much to take it and to verify for himself that it is indeed solid and real. But instead he merely follows Hythlodaeus, sloshing through the shallow water and the clinging mud to join him on the bank, the hem of his robe dripping where he stands.]
[...Or where he bows, rather. The years have not been kind to Hades, as Hythlodaeus has no doubt already observed. Though his form cannot precisely be called old, the signs are there. The sunken eyes, the weary wrinkles, and a tiredness that seems to dominate his mien.]
Might I suggest we be gone from here? Although I doubt the thing will awaken for some seconds more, I would prefer not to waste my afternoon continuously subduing the creature. Unless, perhaps, you've a mind to take it with us.
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[All elation, excitement, ...honestly, joy, aside, the fact that his offer was not taken sobers him somewhat. There is a moment- fleeting, most certainly- where his eyes meet the other man's. Something is perceived- and he cannot help but feel himself sink. It is gradual, most certainly. Yet his smile does turn somewhat rueful. It doesn't leave him, of course. Yet there is knowing in it. A vague understanding of something very unspoken, unsaid.
His hand returns to his side, and he nods.]
Tiresome as such is and ever has been, I would not seem ungrateful for your assistance. I fear matters would have become rather dire were it not for your arrival.
[In silent agreement, he begins to walk. And, as it would simply not do to be in such silence, with such a dark cloud over them...]
I have little idea as to how this has happened. Or what is in store for us. ...Yet I am also grateful for your presence.
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[Hades knows well the sacrifice which has paved his own path, what his people have relinquished for the sake of the star. Many of their names he remembers, many of them he had encountered throughout his tenure as The Third Seat. That Hythlodaeus is able to be here with him at all surely means that something must have changed. Could it then be that Zodiark (or at least, the shell of what He once was) is no more? It is inconceivable.]
[Dark cloud or no, now hardly seems the time to play coy about their present state of affairs. His shoulders sag as he emits another long sigh, and he murmurs under his own breath, just loud enough to be heard.]
...So am I.
[His eyes dart away then, and Hades returns his attention towards the path ahead, his voice regaining to its usual volume and inflection.]
Though I am certain you would have discovered an opening one way or another, either with or without my interference. I simply noticed your soul shining more brightly than the others, and so I came.
As to how this happened, I confess I know as little as you do. All I can say for certain is that I know not where we are. "Expiation", or so it is written. Yet there is no place such as this upon present-day Etheirys nor anywhere within the Aetherial Sea.
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[And an accusation, more than likely. His eyes once again flick over Emet-Selch in small concern, for however powerful the sorcerer- he feels it. He cannot help but feel it. The issue of any alleged crime is not touched upon though. Not when the thought conjures the memory of a particular conversation upon the moon...]
Well!
[A gentle, very gentle bump of his shoulder against Emet-Selch's padded and armoured one follows as they walk.]
I suppose the first thing to do will be to find the office which has distributed these missives. I do think I saw some buildings to the south. Of crude make, most certainly- and while I doubt they are indicative of a city, making contact with any form of civilization may be a prudent first move.
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Assuming such an office exists. It may be that the nearby town is little more than an outpost, and the government center is located elsewhere within the province.
At the very least, the natives should be able to provide some form of clarification beyond what can be gleaned from the missive - as you've suggested. I've encountered several others waking within these fields, yet they are equally unaware of what precisely has transpired.
[A shake of his head, for although Hythlodaeus has the right of it, he has no doubt this venture will prove tedious.]
I suppose that means some diplomacy is in order.
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[Or not at all.
His words are light- jovial. Yet there is an undercurrent to them, a tiny note of faint worry. Serving a purpose. Now that is a troubling thought. Punishment seemed to be the only reason thus far, yet he could not help but wonder what exactly gave them the right to disrupt the order of things and raise the dead to atone for their perceived crimes.
Atoning too. Were any of the crimes real, atonement meant nothing here, so very far away from those allegedly hurt.
Yet. Diplomacy. He smiles at Emet-Selch then, just in time for a squelch.]
If you'd prefer, I would be pleased to take the lead.
[The smallest hint of laughter is in his tone, and his soul- just for a halfsecond, glimmers.
...Blame the squelch.]
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[He repeats the words with a note of disdain. He will be curious to see precisely who these people are - these ones who believe themselves to hold authority over matters beyond them. As to the hows, such a theory calls the Crystal Exarch and his discoveries within the realm of time travel to mind, of summoning others forth from the beyond - not simply shades or approximations, but an entire person both body and mind. Have such magicks been mastered by another? It's an altogether disturbing thought for a field he himself has not managed to unravel.]
Suit yourself. I've had more than enough diplomacy for at least another lifetime and shall be more than satisfied to watch the proceedings from afar.
[As much as he claims to find peace in simply being an observer, they both know he has a tendency of stepping in when things are about to go awry.]
Though if I may, you might as well be out with it. I can tell you are amused, and I would prefer it if you got the giggles out before we start delving for answers.
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[He has precious little idea that Emet-Selch's skill in diplomacy has most certainly developed and changed likely beyond even his own given the lifetimes upon lifetimes he has lived, and what he has chosen to do with those lifetimes. So, that is not quite the reason he says such.
Instead, it is something else entirely. Chiefly that accused or not accused, (and really. why would such a very great man be accused of anything untoward?) an introduction would be a good thing. Those of this world should perceive him, should see him, should know him.
...That, and he values his insight. They always were better working as a pair- covering weaknesses, and amplifying strengths. And truthfully, the notion has him decidedly less worried about the entire thing.
So it is settled. He makes a few strides along the field, until...
Well. That is said. And he cannot help it. He truly cannot. Yet there is something about the other man's tone that sets him off again.
His hand moves to his mouth. And he cannot help but laugh.]
...I've missed you, Hades.
[So very much.]
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Those who were there (Sentimental Offerings)
The altar has given him pause. Though these people hold fast to their faith, Hermes is hesitant to join in. Much emotion has been poured into this offering, and on his own he frets about what he should contribute. He's surprised to see a familiar silhouette amongst the crowd, and moreso the face behind the mask. ]
You mean to get rid of it?
[ His tone is more curious than accusatory. Having spoken with some people from here and elsewhere, Hermes has left his mask hanging around his neck. So far he's seen many more people without a mask than wearing one, and has removed his as to stand out less. But to offer the mask as a sacrifice seems a more permanent way to remove it, and that's what has him curious. ]
aaaa, hermes!!!
The dead have no power over me. You will be silent- as silent as the grave!
A terrible memory.
...So very, very terrible.
The colour of Hermes' soul is the same as the one from that scene. Yet it is purer. Gentler- prettier, actually. Less marred by time, by tragedy, by madness, and by such unfathomable sorrow- yet it is hardly pure. No colour ever was.
Well. He thinks to himself. Enough of that. He turns.]
...
[He takes a moment. A single moment to take the measure of the man before him with his peripheral, before he slips into what is natural. A practised, easy smile graces his features as he regards the ghost, honestly before him- feigned coyness prevalent in his tone.]
Well! Given that we are a far stretch from where such articles signify the proper courtesy- not to mention social conventions here appear quite different- I imagined that the best thing to do was to show willingness.
[And. Far more importantly, he takes a few steps closer- away from the altar. And.]
It has been a while, my friend.
[Because that's what they are... or were.]
hello there!
But then Hythlodaeus's charm returns, and Hermes can't help but envy his ability to be at ease even in such an odd situation as this. Though the array of new sights and experiences has filled his heart with curiosity and wonder, he feels off-kilter in a new way. Hiding his aberrant thoughts is much harder to do in such an unfamiliar setting. Hermes smiles somewhat bashfully in greeting, running his fingers over his old mask. ]
Our masks are indeed strange here, but it feels stranger still to dispose of it entirely because of our own custom. [ His eyes wander back to the crowd, to the celebration and hope that surrounds their prayers. A source of dynamis in a world where aether couldn't overwhelm it.] I hadn't considered that we might not be able to return.
[ It's a strange thought, but one that he's less sad about than he expected. ]
How long has it been, Hythlodaeus? Though I'm still adjusting to the role of Fandaniel, I've been in Amaurot more often than not of late.
[ He doesn't doubt there's a time difference, but his mind buzzes with questions. If they pulled multiple Chosen, why would they come from different times? ]
hello hello! hermes is a big favourite of mine so im soooo happy to see him aa ;;
regretunfinished thought made manifest to his half-faded soul as it lingers on in could very well be a conjured environment yet to be rationalized, it is well and truly disregarded.He, personally, could not have manufactured such sincerity, even in memory. Nor such an undercurrent of quiet introspectiveness pervading each of Hermes' words.]
That is certainly one way of looking at matters. Yet personally...
[His eyes move to the side, the very picture of coyness. Yet there is a telling quirk upward of the edge of his lip- a playfulness brimming at the surface. He is close now. A single step from the other before he stops, his luminous eyes moving to Hermes' own- voice lowering- as if sharing some great secret.]
I would not imagine it merely disposed of. More entrusted, in the same manner as any other of these important items given in reverence to the values of this society. [His voice then evens.] Besides! ...Were this to be the result of some terrible accident on someone, somewhere's part and soon to be reversed, creating another would be as simple as procuring a length of aetherial rope.
[Were he alive, yes. Yet he is not. He would never have to consider the possibility of finding himself within civilized society so very barefaced- so uncouth. Yet it is misdirection at best. He knows, well, that any form of lie is impossible. Hermes himself had said that he holds the seat of Fandaniel- so he would know it for what it was immediately.
At the question, he does have to cast his mind back- yet his response is silken. Of course, the bureau of the architect would have sent the proper congratulations with all the appropriate flowers and fanfare. He is certain.]
Indeed so. I do hope that with time, the city is becoming almost as enjoyable to you as Elpis.
[What could be said? The fact Hermes adored his work and the facility itself was fact to him beyond what Kairos had stripped away. As for the question of time...]
Would you care to walk with me? I think here hardly the place.
[A play for time, most certainly. Time to consider how to best answer.]
he's also a fave of mine so i'm excited to set him down somewhere and see what happens
[ The mask itself is a small trinket, symbolic only in their perception. Entrusting it to their new neighbors would be a sign of respect and a potential boon to their ritual. But Hermes has spent so much time hiding under his mask, adhering to its meaning and hiding his true thoughts behind it that it feels odd to discard it for such a long time. But this is not their home, and their masks are merely - truly - objects. ]
You're right. It bears a personal meaning, but is not irreplaceable. And in the moment, best left behind. [ He places it on the altar, tentative at first but almost relieved to let it go.
He does manage a smile afterwards. It's not Elpis or Amaurot, and that's the beauty of it. All of it is alien to him. The people and the surroundings are so different, and there's so much he has yet to learn. ]
I rather think it might be.
[ The parchment left with him brought considerable unease that he's struggled to shake, but the possibility of new knowledge genuinely excites him. He may finally have an answer to his greatest question without having to burden an innocent being with the arduous task of asking. In that at least, he's of a good mood. ]
Of course. I'm sure there's still much to catch up on. Lead the way.
[ A walk with a familiar face might do him some good. ]
shananigans will happen between all the nightmare fuel with these two, I hope!
It was all still so very relevant. Despite his reservations about taking the seat and leaving the outpost he had so loved in the hands of his colleagues, the red mask of Fandaniel was a testament to all that had come with it being so very hard-earned. Truthfully, Hythlodaeus would not have chosen to judge the decision to decline if Hermes had done so. Yet that is not what happened.
So surprised he is- yet it is good surprise- characterized by a small nod of assent as well as his eyes turning, briefly, into crescents. He moves close to Hermes once again after he has taken his last look at the altar- at the white and the red mask lying nestled amongst so many other treasures- and he walks with him. ]
Well. I certainly feel lighter. I imagine we'll be in differing attire next.
[An impish smile soon accompanies that remark (for it is a joke!) and as he weaves his way in and out of the crowd he never strays too far from the man beside him. Even now, his sight is at work. There is something different about Hermes. The mark that had formed itself upon his wrist is the culprit most certainly, for he did not have the benefit of his sight in regard to self-examination and had, as of yet, no cause to sense his own.
Curious. Yet harmless, he decides. For there is nothing about it that should give way to concern or suspicion. So, he decides to push it to the back of his mind, and begin to answer the foremost questions first.
The answer comes as he turns to examine a stall selling all manner of food items, as well as drinks. A quaint kind of stall- with a long window at the front and a bench for sitting attached.]
As for how long it has been...
[Moments ago in his memory, if one were to go by the hue of Amon's soul. Regardless, the creature that seized control of lord Zodiark was not Hermes. He is certain.]
Nigh on an eternity, regrettably. I believe that I stopped counting the years long ago. As I stand now, I have returned to the star.
[His eyes move to Hermes' own then, and they appear somewhat saddened, just for a small moment, perhaps indicating that he had reconsidered an affirmation made long ago. Yet he moves on.]
...However! There is something to be said for absence making the heart grow fonder. It truly is wonderful to see you once more- regardless of the circumstances.
hahaha YES! YES!!
Differing attire? I haven't had to think about that sort of thing since... [ Meteion's girl form needed something to wear. ] ...well, it's been a while. I should hope the aesthetics aren't too important.
[ He can't help the downturn of his lips at the mention that Hythlodaeus is dead. That in itself is strange, though the sadness is tempered by the fact he's still here to talk freely. What a mystery that is, but probably not one best studied in the moment. ]
It has not been so long for me, though I should hope your circumstances were ideal.
[ He should perhaps offer congratulations - or perhaps consolation, given the look Hythlodaeus gives him. Hermes cannot help but feel sorrow at the loss of a friend. ]
I'm glad to see you too, and am happy we could meet again after your return.
[ He has so many questions, none of which he can bring himself to voice. ]
<3!
[Tiny, insignificant comment regarding attire aside, He can see Hermes' sadness as it comes. The other man makes no event of it, no comment of it, but this moment strikes him as remarkably similar to that time. A time so very long ago in one of Elpis' meeting rooms when Hermes had been reminded that his way of thinking was indeed dysfunctional by their standards. Where something had been important enough to him to rail, to appeal, and the bravery to speak out had not changed a thing- had not stopped his predecessor from returning. Had not changed the fact the red mask of Fandaniel was to go to him.
Hythlodaeus had not helped, back then.
He had not even put himself in Hermes' shoes to try and better understand his sentiment, even privately. Merely labored a point as if it were the single right answer, and moved on.
There is regret. Given time and hindsight, of course there is. And the desire to do better. Not to prevent what had already happened. There was no redressing that. More like to improve upon a personal failing in hope of a proper apology. Yet even then, how exactly to do that is quite difficult. Even now, Hermes himself has forgotten that time, so being direct about it is hardly befitting.
Fortunately for him, a start to that apology soon presents itself.
The stallkeep, having noticed the men lingering (and seeing the marks upon their wrists) soon endeavors to provide food to them. This sustenance takes the form of two skewers each. One with chunks of meat skewered upon them. Another with varying colourful vegetables. Each skewer has been grilled over an open fire, and truly, smells quite wonderful.
Hythlodaeus watches, bemused, as the gift appears. He listens to the stallkeep illuminate that no, there is no charge- and that visitors who respect their ways are deserving of help.
A kind gesture, most assuredly. Yet he does have a feeling...
He turns to Hermes.]
How delightful. Yet, if I may confide something in you in my remit as a half-faded soul given form once more, [His voice lowers as he lies.] I detest vegetables. ...I always have, and have no desire to offend the bearer of this gift.
So if you would be so kind...
[He moves a hand to Hermes' plate, and takes the (suspected) offensive skewer of butchered, seasoned and grilled animal from it. And he replaces it with his own vegetable skewer, something that he hopes is far more appropriate.
There is a saying that Convocation members know lies the moment they are spoken.
If it is true, he suspects Hermes knows that like a very good Ancient, Hythlodaeus hardly indulged preferences- and therefore did not make waste of anything when he was alive. ...Yet perhaps it would be viewed as their lie.
On Hythlodaeus' part, perhaps a start to that apology.]
no subject
[ Pondering the possibilities leaves Hermes blissfully unaware of Hythlodaeus' thoughts. It isn't something he's put much thought into before as he's never much cared for it, but there could be more to learn about these new people based on their differences. It's very important to him that he keep an open mind.
He doesn't remember Hythlodaeus doing so, but that moment so long ago was one of many of its kind. Hermes had reflected on his own doubts and parsed out the oddities before finding the bravery to voice his concerns, but even those who regarded him highly had dismissed them out of hand. He wasn't sure this place would be different (he'd been charged with a crime after all) but he didn't want to inflict the same duress on strangers.
As such, he's polite as possible to the vendor despite the rather awkward situation of getting some food he's not entirely comfortable with. The lack of charge is promising, but Hermes isn't sure how to bring up the subject without offending their benefactor. Fortunately he doesn't have to.
He smiles at Hythlodaeus as he switches their skewers, grateful not to have the broach the subject. His voice is dry, but quite humored. ]
Well, we all must make sacrifices.
[ It's an attempt at a joke. ]
no subject
[A small laugh accompanies that. Yet it is a gentle one- a quiet one- and he does very much hope that Hermes would not feel that it is at his expense, for truly. He does make quite the point. The societal norms of this culture would have to be gleaned. Especially since all he has spoken to find themselves accused, and soon to be at the mercy of it. He imagines Hermes isn't an outlier.
As he begins to eat, he decides that perhaps the subject should be broached. As well as something else he thinks Hermes should know.]
I find myself in quite the fortuitous position- or as lucky as one can feel having been restored to form, rudely awoken within another time and upon another star, and accused of some great crime. Of our greatest minds, you are the third of which I have encountered here.
[His food is removed from his skewer, and he chooses to pluck each piece between his fingers to eat. An act somewhat more delicate than chewing at a stick, after all.]
...I have counted Elidibus, the Emmissary. And Emet-Selch, the third seat. With three fourteeths of the Convocation directly involved, I imagine we'll be out of this scenario quite swiftly.