556/Psyber in Wonderland

Psyber in Wonderland
Date of Scene:	07 September 2014
Location:	A Quiet World
Synopsis:	Mizuki invites Psyber over... for tea. And beer, apparently. Oh, and some talking happens. Probably a lot more of that, actually.
Thanks to:	Psyber, for tanking the verbosity.
Cast of Characters:	183, 253

---

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    This has been a long time coming. And why? Well, as it has been stated, Psyber is one of those interesting types that got Mizuki's attention early on. Perhaps less obviously, he also triggered some authorial sense reactions, probably because he's been involved in so much absurdity at this point that his 'protagonist readings' are off her proverbial charts. But all of that is completely irrelevant and probably wouldn't make any sense to anyone but her anyway. In fact, it doesn't really make sense to her either; she's just read so many novels that she has 'theatrics' inscribed over the left ventricle of her heart. Which, by the way, does not exist because she's some sort of thought phantom.

    But I'm rambling. Aren't I rambling?

    Mizuki invited Psyber over for tea, because she is not only the Goddess of a realm, but also the queen of originality. More than anything else, though, she just wanted to show off her Clock Tower. To prove to him once and for all that she is Gothic and broody, and that she does nothing - nothing whatsoever, ever - to merit any sort of teasing. He's met at the doors by two girls in dresses. Probably maids. Only, these maids are both holding scythes, and that one with pink hair is giving him a pretty yandere, toothy grin. At least the one with silver hair looks reasonably demure, but that one on the left... man. He's probably seen enough temperamental girls - Levi would probably be a good example - in the Confederacy to know one when he sees one.

    But assuming he doesn't see fit to tease either of them, he is lead to the elevator in the heart of the next room without incident, and the trio travels up a long, winding passage that looks like something from a Disney ride, or the Twilight Zone. A bunch of crooked portraits and asymmetrical figures line the walls, many of them lighting up in vivid colors as the floating cradle of the elevator rides upward.

    And eventually, the Surreal Express delivers him to his destination: a massive, empty room whose floor is covered by a red carpeting, and whose walls display four truly massive portraits that would be the horror movie, eyes-follow-you kind if they weren't so bizarrely large. No, in this case they just might make Psyber wonder if he had stepped into some manner of circus funhouse. Or if he had shrunk; this place does give off a pretty prevalent 'Alice in Wonderland' sorta vibe, underneath all of the ominous overtones.

    On the far side of a room, his host sits on a couch before a massive, stained-glass window. Her hand is limply clutching a teacup, which in turn is hung over the only other piece of furniture in the room: a fine wooden coffee table where the complementary saucer rests. A silence hangs in the area for a spell before the pink-haired goal eviscerates it with a fairly decent yell:

    "'EY! MIMI! Guy you said was coming over is here!" Mizuki turns back from the couch for a moment before hopping up, and... appearing right in front of him not 5 seconds later with her hands folded at her waist. She gives him a small bow. "Welcome, Mister Psyber. I'm glad that we finally managed to find a time that is agreeable for both of us."

    Given that they're in a clock, any sentence containing the word 'time' might feel just a little loaded. Like it was a pun.
Even if it wasn't.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Pinning Psyber down for a good time to have tea is a borderline impossibility some days. Muchless dragging him into some conceptual world realm to do it. He usually has much less time than he'd like to do such a thing, and much more caution. It's not hard to tell that even here, he's carrying weapons. Two guns on his belt underneath his trademark coat, which is over a casual pair of jeans and a shirt that reads 'No Fat Chicks'.

    He looks awkward at the two guards and then follows in when the girl appears before him, "It is a pleasure to finally see where you spend your time when you're not out being an author for the Multiverse." He looks around slightly, "I don't often receive social invitations due to the busy nature of my work, so this is a rare treat for me."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "Wait, wait a minute. Does that thing seriously say--" Palora, the pink-haired girl, sneaks in front of Psyber, gawking at his shirt. "... it DOES! It freaking -DOES-!" She barrels out laughing. "Man, I don't know where you got this guy from, Mimi, but -- OW!" The silver-haired girl has moved over to her, and is currently pinching the louder one's ear with a pair of fingers. "D-Damnit! Cut it out! Seriously!!" But Callia does not cut anything out, and continues to hold her by the ear, eventually placing a hand over her mouth when she refuses to quit her raving. She gives a nod in Mizuki's direction, then one to Psyber. "Please pardon the interruption."

    Mizuki, whose eyes had narrowed a bit in response to the spectacle, returns with a small headbob of her own. "... thank you for subduing her, Callia." Then, back to Psyber, once again magically full of the same vim that she had when he first saw her. "Oh, I am still an author for the Multiverse when I am here, naturally. This is just where I give my thoughts and reflections on the things that I have seen substance. And, occasionally, have the pleasure of company such as yourself." She gives another, small bow. "But on that note, I fully intend for this to be a rare treat in ways exceeding the mundane. It will still be relaxing, mind, but there will be artistry for you to appreciate as well. Come follow me, would you please?" She gestures to the couch at the far side of the room, and starts off that way.

    Assuming he follows her as requested, she would briefly look up to the stained glass window that so dominates the room and... wave a hand. Suddenly, the pane becomes translucent, allowing a clearer view of the world outside. Currently, it would seem the Clock Tower is staring down an endless ocean at the extreme of an infinitely long cobblestone pathway. To anyone who was used to living in an urban area, the sheer... absence would be striking; there are no homes along that road, or anything. Just some swaying blades of grass here, maybe a tiny lone tree there... but otherwise, it seems so barren as to be tranquil.

    Mizuki turns back to Psyber, still sporting her usual grin. "My clock's face doubles as something of a panoramic aperture to the rest of the world, you see. Since I can move this edifice virtually anywhere in this world, I can have whatever visual I please to look upon when I'm relaxing here. I thought that, perhaps, you might like some variety as we enjoyed our drinks."

    Speaking of drinks, Callia and Palora aren't far behind with a filled teapot and a tower of treats - finger sandwiches, scones, the works - in their hands. Conveniently enough, there also happens to be a larger table on which to place them now, and a second couch. All of which that he is fairly certain were not there the last time he looked. 'Dream world' indeed.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber simply smiles charmingly at the pink-haired girl gawking at his shirt, "Glad you like it," He says to her before she's dragged off by the silver-haired companion. He looks a bit perplexed at this before saying to Mizuki, "An interesting pair they make. Very different, almost caricature-like opposites of one another." He muses while following her.

    "Truly you are a master in this world," He notes, looking around it slowly at all the changes, subtle and obvious, that show her influence over the place, "It must have been quite a shock to come to the Multiverse and find many others not unlike yourself." He further conjectures. A defense mechanism of his to keep the conversation off himself is to steer it towards other people and their own verbosities, "How long has your world been like this?"

    He takes a finger sandwich and idly nibbles on it, walking along behind Mizuki.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Regarding the sisters, Mizuki nods. "That's not a coincidence. They were actually my first exercise in creating autonomously sentient thought forms, and the only ones that have ever been able to successfully venture outside of this world. I based each of them on polar opposite facets of my personality. Callia is my politeness, while Palora is my --" Almost as if on cue, the pink-haired one interrupts again. "Could you NOT say embarrassing crap like that out loud?? Ya don't have to tell every other jerk that asks, y'kn -- ghh!" Again, her mouth is covered by her sister's hand, and she's left to struggle and writhe in futility. This seems like it happens pretty often.

    Mizuki sighs to herself before continuing. "... while Palora is my more mischievious, childish, and reactive side. Neither of them form complete halves, but they are some approximation of that. And despite their various -inquities-," She stares daggers at Palora a moment, "I am still quite fond of them. They're good company when I tire of the silence that pervades nearly every orifice of this utopia-in-progress." Psyber doesn't have to try hard to keep the conversation focused on other things, however, and Mizuki seems quite content to prattle on.

    "Yes, this world is just a reflection of my mind, and as such I have a certain wield over its machinations and aesthetics. Though I'm not the only one with that power -- other people may manipulate things just as easily, you see. Bring a table into existence there, make a chair appear there... even alter their own appearances, actually. And alter the weather." She smiles radiantly. "The infinite possibility of it all is one of my greatest points of pride. Really, don't be afraid to try it yourself!" Yet, somehow, her self-aggrandizing has its way of winding back around to her conversation partners eventually, it seems.

    "But ah, it's been like this as long as I can remember. We have existed exactly as long as one another, and we have always been together. I created it, in fact! Though... 'create' is a funny word when you're dealing with dreams. And the details of its inception elude me..." She gently raps a few fingers on her cheek for a few moments. "... most of that is unimportant, though."

    Finally by the couches again - that really is an inordinately long walk for a single room - she takes a seat and gestures for Psyber to do the same. There's an extra couch there now, so he doesn't have to sit right beside her... if he chooses to sit at all. Some strange souls prefer to stand.

    Meanwhile, Callia and Palora take their positions to the right and left of the pair, still holding their weapons. Seems Mizuki isn't all that keen on lowering security unnecessarily either.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Did you create it, though?" Psyber asks curiously, leaning back and dropping down onto the couch as he watches Mizuki curiously. The reason he's wearing the coat is simple, if private. He doesn't want anyone to pick up on the scar on his back, which is likely glowing under his jacket in a world like this.

    "I mean, you say you don't remember from before you created the world? What if it's all a dream and at the core of your world is a comatose girl conjuring you and this world from a hospital bed to cope with the mental stress of a car accident~?" Psyber says mysteriously, wiggling his fingers at Mizuki, "You were never reeeeeal, you're just the hallucinated projection of a girl's desire for control over the uncontrollable!"

    He grins a bit before leaning back in his seat, "No really, nice world you've got here."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki seems pensive when he asks if she 'really created it'. Of course she did! But... what comes next, accompanied by the mystical finger wiggling and the phenomenally complementary tone, gets a snort. She has to act very, very quickly to hold a sleeve over her mouth before she laughs as gracelessly as Palora before her. She sets down her teacup and holds up a lone finger with her free hand to request 'one minute'. And when her gigglefit finally finishes, she shakes her head horizontally.

    "I highly doubt that." She swishes her hair a bit, striking a cinematic pose with a hand to her chest. "But I cannot refute the possibility, because I am, of course, a witch of Infinity -- one who accepts all happenstance, contrasting or no, in simultaneity." She takes a breath and calmly exhales, moving her hands back to their rightful place on her lap. "Though I do have a soft spot for tales of that nature, and for sickly people, oddly enough. Typically speaking I'm rather immoral, but that is one area in which that prevailing attitude lapses." She narrows her eyes slightly now. A 'turn the tables' sort of look.

    "But even if this is some poor, dying girl's fever dream, you are still interacting with it. Whether you're a figment of my imagination or I a delusion of yours, we are both here at this moment, speaking. If that's the case, then I don't think that 'ending revelation' would make this any less real."

    She turns her gaze to the window now, swiping her left hand to the right a few times. Behind Psyber, the visual beyond the window changes... eventually stopping where one has a view of the ocean. Far in the distance is what would appear to be an underwater city cloaked in mysterious azure lights, and nearer to the window itself float a small quantity of tropical fish and other examples of vibrant marine life.

    "But really, you're an interesting fellow. It simply wouldn't do to make this conversation solely about me and mine." She refocuses her gaze on him. "Tell me: how did you come to be in the business you are now? 'Paranormal investigation' is a rather fantastic job description, don't you think?" She tilts her head a bit. "And with those wings of yours, I very much doubt you belong completely to some mundane, arbitrary variant of the human species. Though do tell me if I ever become too invasive." She picks her teacup back up, and gives it a sip... puckering her lips a little in disgust. 'Eww, this is lukewarm...' She mutters. Callia meanders over and conjures a flame underneath it for her, earning a smile from her 'master', who nods. 'Thank you, Callia.'

Psyber (253) has posed:
    The conversation shifts to him. Luckily they're easy to answer questions with the same overlapping single answer, "I'm a half-angel." He says pretty simply, as if an explanation for everything was in those four words. He does eventually elaborate, "Black wings are a rare genetic mutation. Ill-omens, some thing. Truncated history is that I went into exile over some disagreements, lost the wings, went into hunting because it fit my skillset, got the wings back later after I joined the Multiverse, yada yada."

    He waves a hand slightly, "When you reach a certain level of power, you either become a villain or a hero. Or both. I elected to hunt things that threatened humanity because it was what I was taught was the right thing to do. Eventually Paranormal Hunting turned to Paranormal Investigating and now here we are."

    "I'm sure your origin story and the creation of your world here, learning to grapple with your powers. All that is a much more fascinating tale."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "Hmm." She slowly nods her head, taking another sip of her tea... and smiling a little at how much better it tastes after being re-heated. "Well, my wings have given me nowhere near as much trouble. They simply exist because I find them beautiful. And because I have an affinity for Ravens that stems from my adoration of a certain human author, but all of that is really very dull." She rolls a hand. "All personal interest material with no relevance whatsoever to the more grandiose, weaving fibers of history that have landed me where I am now." Her eyes suddenly widen, though, as if in realization of something astonishing. "Ah! But before I drift elsewhere, might I say that I love your usage of the word 'truncate'? So many in this Multiverse seem afraid of polysyllabic and mildly esoteric verbage. It's good to see that you aren't."

    After another series of nods and another sip from her cup, her expression becomes a bit more serious. "Though, yes. Any degree of power requires quite a bit of knowledge and tact to control. A fitting analogy would be a giant standing beside an ant -- the giant must tread very lightly so as not to disturb the ant. Or perhaps one could view powers as a safecracker, that only yield the desired results with a gentle touch? Whatever the case, I believe I grasp your meaning." She clasps her hand. "But regarding 'heroes' and 'villains', my favorite figures on the celestial tapestries are and always have been the subverted archetypes. The antiheroes, the antivillains... people doing all of the right things for all of the wrong reasons, or vice versa. Something to really wrap your blood pumping organ in steel chains and squeeze at it, if you will." She smiles.

    "I do very much respect the gravity you see in your position, however. People need their knights and their heroes, even if they aren't solely that in reality. Even if they have more to them than the nobility and sword brandishings." She collects her breath again. "Though aalll of that aside..." She levels her gaze with Psyber's again. "I am compelled to describe the weight with which I view my own station. I am she who looks beyond all of this 'good' and 'evil' nonsense and tries to decide whether the world that exists once peace has been achieved will truly be peaceful. Sapient-sentient beings tend to -need- adversity -- if ever they are freed from it, I know not what they'll do. This sort of constant pressure from both sides is almost like a necessary equilibrium, I've begun to feel. 'Peace' is not itself, but rather the best mixture of 'calm' and 'active' that is conducive to growth, and happiness."

    "And it is for this reason," She just keeps talking, "that I must chronicle more than my own egocentric inner ramblings. And that I must take into account at least the rudiments of the tales of others, so that I may reflect upon and learn from them as well. Oh, and much of this appeals to me, personally, as well; reading for pleasure is never out of the question, no, no." She finishes off this cup of tea. "But all of that aside - I hope I'm not putting you to sleep - I hope that you won't mind at least a few more inquiries regarding yourself, as they arise. One-sided discussions are boring, even when you're as verbose as I am."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Anti-heroes are people who are great in theory, but for one to exist you ask someone to take a terrible burden upon themself." Psyber says, addressing a part of Mizuki's statement that stands out most to him, "Few understand the full gravity in creating an anti-hero. True anti-heroism, that is. One can be dark or have a pragmatic look, but to truly understand what makes someone become an 'anti-hero'..." Psyber stops, bringing his fingers up to make air quotes, "... few people grasp the gravity. The Union particularly holds this flaw, being so filled with people who grow accustomed to the belief that if they try hard enough, their ideals will prevail."

    He seems rather focused on this topic, "To create someone with the traits of an anti-hero in literature, you simply fabricate a being. To make someone truly like that in our..." He waves a hand around, "World? You must take someone with beliefs, ideals, morals. Someone with a code and a virtue. And then you must tear them open to a point of almost untennability. Make them choose between what their beliefs are meant to achieve... and the beliefs. The beliefs they held will become the knives you use to carve out pieces of their soul. Their beliefs will make them the villain. And if they choose to finish what they started and accomplish the goal, at the end of it all, the damaged pieces of that person, what is left... that is the anti-hero."

    He smiles a bit wryly at Mizuki, "The enviable ones are the heroes. The narrative favors them more. They get to keep their beliefs and succeed some day."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    So it looks like Mizuki inadvertently tapped into something personal without asking for it out loud. So the 'antihero' concept is something that he either knows very well, or has thought about extensively. Something tells her, though, that it's both; some little bits of personal experience that lend themselves to the explanation. Was it someone that he knew? Himself? All of the above? She briefly considers prying further into this, but something else tells her that she shouldn't push too far. She recalls the safecracker analogy briefly, and nods to herself. Probably best to consider the simple fact that she got such an impassioned return from him as her 'victory' for the time being.

    But the marginalizing thoughts set aside, Mizuki does listen to his 'lecture' with rapt interest. The sisters do too, Palora even chiming in with an 'Oh, shit...' closer to the end, glancing to Mizuki. The lady herself hangs her head briefly in contemplation, raising her gaze just in time to catch the smile. After another breath, she conjures a reply:

    "Innocence is always enviable. Not having to choose, and not seeing the full scope of the ramifications of what you're doing... being able to look from one fixed point to another, as point A traveling to point B, is always easier than waking up to the realization of all of the other, less 'attractive' variables that matter." Pause. "I've never had the sort of responsibility placed upon me that would allow me to feel such things. But enlightenment and disillusionment take greater precedent than pleasure for me, you know. I respect the terminally ill and the terminally philosophical for much the same reasons: both of them have traveled so far down the paths of their lives that they have begun to see a void beyond it all, or in some cases, they have jumped in to that void outright." She makes a shrugging gesture. "... it isn't enviable, no. But I want to drink the poison so that I may not seem such a frivolous child to people who have seen the bitter truths of the world. People like you, if I may hazard a guess." She links eyes with him for a moment. "Does that make sense? I envy that the 'antiheroes' lack the overly romanticized thoughts that give their station the mystique they do to people like me." She sighs faintly, tapping her fingers to the ceramic of her empty glass. "This is my real reason for being in the Union, if I may say so for my own catharsis. I'm just a trifle masochistic that way, and I have no idea how foolish I am." She closes her eyes a moment. "My form of metacognition is fairly self-destructive."

    She allows for a bit of silence after that, moving the visual behind the clock now to an alpine forest where a snowstorm is taking place. The window begins to frost over just slightly, and the gentle sound of falling snow envelops the room.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "You will reach the proper line of thought the more time you spend with people like Arthur Lowell and the less you spend listening to Staren," Psyber says to her simply, taking a flask out of his jacket and unscrewing the top to take a drink from it before it vanishes back into his jacket, "Arthur is a man who has lost everything, but maintains his beliefs and codes. But understands levels of necessity. Of the people I see you most associate with, he is probably your best guide." Curious that he doesn't nominate himself, but he also never views himself as a role model.

    He looks her in the eyes, meeting her gaze when she wants to lock eyes with him, "As for your hazarded guess? Yes. I am not the hero of any story. I'm the plot device wheeled out when the true heroes can't bring themselves to see past their morality towards the greater good. My actions are necessary evil and all my victories are Pyrrhic."

    It's a wry and jaded laugh that he gives, leaning back in his chair, "If it helps you, you can think of me as the epitomized endgame of the anti-hero. The jaded martyr."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki takes her own turn for a smile that mimics Psyber's own, while still remaining a bit more reserved in nature. "Arthur is an enigma. He caught my interest almost immediately in spite of his surface demeanor, which is very much something that should have made me disregard him." She shakes her head. "But there is so much knowledge there, and so much experience. Yet, in him I have seen this... sensitivity. From what I've read, that Sburb game really does take everything from the players, and has taken everything from him. And he still has the same heart that he did days after it started." She nods, setting her teacup aside. "Even without your counsel, I believe I would've sought to learn more about him first simply because of that."

    Callia meanders back to the coffee table and fills Mizuki's glass, though it goes ignored for now. "Though I'm glad to see that my vision is not so cloudy that I failed to recognize those who have truly seen some of the worst that reality has to give. Miss Homura, Miss Klum, You, Mister Nathan, Miss Himei, Miss Amalthea... though I've not the foggiest notions as to what you all have been through, my innate ability to sense history through words and attitudes has at least told me whom." She shakes her head. "I seek to surround myself with those individuals that will teach me more of what I want to know, but at the same time, I've no desire to break into things I've no right to. And besides, my reasons for wanting to know are quite self-centered and depraved as it is." Then, there's a sudden shift in her demeanor. Her smile widens and becomes just a trifle more genuine as she beckons Palora over, whispering into her ear. Then, a bottle of fine wine appears on the tray.

    "You know," She looks like she's suppressing a laugh, "things with origins inside of my world cannot leave its boundaries. That includes food and drink. That means, of course, that you could drink your fill, reap all the benefits, and then lose all of the drawbacks as soon as you emerge on the other side of the warpgate." She clasps her hands. "If you ever need incentive to come back for a spell~."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Perhaps some day I will tell you that story. Though my personal experience only involved a few of those people. We all share a common event or two, but separate pasts. It is a heavy burden," He waves a hand idly, "You may find that the major event for myself only overlaps with two of the people on your list, actually." He notes mysteriously.

    "Still, the best teacher for you will be experiencing true loss and hopelessness," He notes, "That's what we all went through and it's why we're different from, say, Staren or the Ponies or Miss Kinomoto. We were forced to make the decision that compromised us for the good of the Multiverse. There was no... expositionary third option for us. No 'we all win completely'."

    "Staren has yet to learn that. So have many people." He shrugs, "The Multiverse makes it so many of them may never learn it, because their methods prove successful. Failure and success are fickle mistresses here."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki nods along with his words, electing to stay a bit more quiet this time. Instead of immediately opening her mouth to reply, she just takes her glass into her hands and daintily sips from it. Eventually, she does add something of a more quiet nature: "Thank you for not being offended by the idea of someone wilfully pursuing that sort of thing. Many people balk at the very idea, or spend even more time reminding me of how little I understand." She smiles. "But I suppose you've grown out of trying to keep people from destructive decisions, yes? You're the sort who believes people are responsible for themselves and their own actions, even if you try to help where you can." She nods to herself.

    "Though I wonder..." She taps her head. "I wonder what sort of tragedy could befall someone who lives in my ivory tower of tranquillity, where everything I lose I could simply resurrect with a thought. Perhaps the stars will align in such a way that that becomes the 'solution' to the tribulations that currently plague my home. Or perhaps I will actually find someone that I care about enough to sacrifice for, and then lose them." She's motionless for a moment before continuing. "... interesting to muse on the possibilities, at least. But I'll let that all rest for now." She waves a hand. "This world is large enough that I need not look for tragedy. In all likelihood, it will find me. So for now, perhaps I should focus on giving you, dear fellow, a chance to relax."

    The visual outside of the window becomes one of the night sky, where thousands of stars twinkle in the distance. She stands and slowly walks over to the window, looking outside. "So, you wanted to know my origin story? It's quite as simple as this: as early as I remember, I was floating amongst a white nothingness. Eventually, thought came to me, and I found a way to dream a body into existence. Then I found something akin to a star, and everything began. I fashioned my home from the energy of thought or some other nebulous thing I cannot fully understand, and afterwards, creation was as easy as painting." Pause. "There's really nothing else to say. My whole life beyond that has been writing stories and finding people who have been through great tragedy and granting them asylum here. The scythe motif hints at connections to the Grim Reaper, you know."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    The first series of her ponderance is dismissed with a shrug, "I don't stop you because your decisions are your own, yes. I can give advice, but it is not my place to interfere with the natural arc of another's life unrequested." He states simply, leaning back in his chair.

    "You won't know what it'll be until it happens. When it does, you won't welcome it. It will be a victory that turns to ash in your mouth, devoid of flavor and choking in its completeness. You may regret asking for it, in all honesty," He notes, rubbing his hands together and shrugging once more.

    "Yours will be an interesting journey, Miss Mizuki," He adds with a note of finality, clapping his hands together once, "I am not sure where it will take you, or what parts you will play. But it will probably have all the makings of a story you seek. Love, loss, beginnings and endings. Just try to make yours a happy ending. Too many of us are relegated to the worst of endings in the Multiverse."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "'To not interfere with the natural arc of another's life unrequested' sounds curiously like drafts for an author's creed that I've dreamed up before, actually." She nods to herself. "So I can certainly respect that." Turning away from the window, she makes another of her shrugs. "And if I don't welcome it when it comes, then I will have what I seek. To imbibe that brutality, so that the taste may linger forever in my mouth, even when I have had time to despise myself for ever wishing to inflict upon myself the pain." She's... still smiling here. "I hope that it will all be in my future. I have lived long enough without having any cause for mourning. Now is the time I see fit to feel as the characters in the books that I've read do, so as not to remain on the outside looking in with glossy eyes. The Multiverse has given me this opportunity, and I will seize it."

    Looking to him now, though, she quirks an eyebrow. "And dare I ask: are my speech patterns infectious? You've sounded progressively more poetic since you've come here. I do so hope that there's not some mental virus circulating about my domain. That would make me quite the horrible host, if you left with more mental defects than you came in with." She allows herself a little chuckle. "But I will say one, final, melodramatic bit before I turn you lose from this... erm. Well, this conversation did become very one-sided, in hindsight. You are awfully good at what you do, aren't you? All of that, and you told me nothing directly." She pauses a moment before adding a bit more gently, "... but even so, I feel I've learned something about you. Whether that's something that is illusory or something that is real, I don't really know, but either way I am given the satisfaction. So thank you." She bows her head.

    "Ah, but I got sidetracked. My last comment: if I do not get what I purport to 'want', and if my soul remains free from the weights attached to your own, I shall then attempt to make myself a healer for people in those situations. Not someone to take away their past, or to make them come to terms with it... but at the very least, someone to help them cope. That would be a suitable alternative to genuine understanding, I suppose." She breathes in, quick and sharp, and exhales. "And with that, I am finished. Your ears have earned a reprieve from the chafing of my words for a spell." She walks back over to her couch afterwards, and sits.

    "But if you'll indulge a final curiosity." She rests her cheek in her palm. "What, if anything, do you consider to be your purpose? Your drive? What philosophy or goal keeps you from trending toward the Confederacy? I will earnestly not prod any further if you'll answer me that."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber shrugs vaguely at her second remark, "I'm a social chameleon. I model the way I talk after the people around me. Don't worry about it too much." He notes, reaching out and flicking her in the forehead before dusting his hands off, "And whatever you believe you have learned from me, I hope it helps you understand things a bit better. I won't pry."

    But if she wants his blunt tones, he does wave a hand at her final inquiry, "My purpose is to do what others won't. When the time comes that we need to commit a great evil for an even greater good, that's my purpose. And ultimately, in what I suspect will be much to Staren's displeasure, when the time comes for someone to die for the greater good, that will probably be me too. My purpose is to get the job done at any cost, even if it's my own life."

    "As for what keeps me from the Confederacy? I amass power. I amass skills and abilities in order to match the monsters of the Multiverse. But the balance is that I never ask anyone to sacrifice for my own power except myself. And that's why I could never be a Confederate. Whatever pieces I carve out of my soul in the pursuit of power and goal, I will never force another to sacrifice or suffer for my personal advancement. That is why I cannot be a Confederate."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "If and when the time comes for you to make that sacrifice, you will be well remembered." She smiles a more humble, sober sort of smile. "If what I've observed has any truth in it, you've left quite an impression, and will continue to do so. Perhaps I'll write a compilation about you eventually, too; immortalize you to the fullest extent that one can with simple words." She tilts her head slightly. "I do wonder why you keep coming back to Staren in particular with regards to the overzealousness that plagues the Union in some places. Is he really such a paragon of that mentality, or is he just the one that you have the most personal experience with? Or perhaps it's just because I know him?" She shakes her head. "Ah, but you don't have to answer that. The point gets across, and that's what is important."

    At the next part, she smiles. "A true guardian angel, then. A true... Knight of Faith, if I may be allowed a reference to common philosophy. A Knight of Faith who invests complete faith in themselves and in their goals, or beliefs. Or that's the more modern rendition, anyway -- the 'beliefs' bit used to be 'God'." She nods to herself. "At the very least, the trails of your life have given you that. Where I sit now... I lack any sort of direction. I'm emerging now from a dream I've been dreaming for some amount of time I've long since forgotten how to measure. Sometimes, nihilism is its own disease, and if I have something profound impact my life - something bad or something good - I believe I may find a reason to care. People like you are inspiring in that way."

    "But you have a life to return to, don't you?" She straightens her expression a little, bowing her head. "... even if you are living in the ashes that follow your own apocalypse, never forget how much your presence, and your help, may mean to someone. Even if that is something that you already know well, it is the only advice I can think to give." Smile~. "I always feel bad if I cannot impart something thought-provoking and calming upon my friends before they leave. So that is my attempt to do so for you."

    The image outside the clock snaps back to what it looked like when Psyber first entered, and the glass itself slowly fades back into existence. She probably did that so he could easily find the warpgate on his way out.