3550/Resurrection and Rebirth

Resurrection and Rebirth
Date of Scene:	19 December 2015
Location:	A Quiet World
Synopsis:	Wherein a group of unionites deliberately create, then subsequently walk into, Omelas.
Thanks to:	To Volund, for help with code. Thank you, Volund! ^^
Cast of Characters:	Kotone Yamakawa, Arthur Lowell, Staren, 183, 236, 238, 253, 255, Rebecca Chambers, Theo Morrison, Riva Banari, Eryl Fairfax, 570, 626, Tomoyo Daidouji, 847
Tinyplot:	The Book of Unification

---

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The scene is set amid the bluster of darkened clouds and thunder that strikes without sound.

    All those who dwell within the Silent City have, either out of fear of the storm or some premonitions of what was to come, fled inside their homes. As it always has been, nothing can be heard within the bounds of this particular subsidiary of Mizuki's World, but in this case that does nothing to take away the 'noise' from the atmosphere. Truly, it's like watching a hurricane pass by from within a bubble of soundproof glass. Were this place not so entirely under Mizuki's control - or at least, as much so as she still claims that it is - one might be worried for the well-being of the city's population. So perhaps it's just as well that there is no time to allow one's thoughts to linger on them -- in this case, the group can trade concern over one group of lifeless, imagined creatures for another such group. One sealed within a book.

    As one may recall, today is the day when the world within the Book of Unification will be born. Weeks have passed since the group left their respective mementos with the Masked Woman, and by now their communion with the book must surely be finished. They will be returned to their owners once the world has manifested itself, but until then the group can only watch. This world will be their 'trial', as it were: a test of humanity's merits. It is two-parts narrative excursion and another two-parts Shiori's grand experiment, wherein she may use you, and all you represent, as a case study to prove that humanity and its subsidiaries, among all sapient things in Creation, have the right to, in some speculative future, transcend. Perhaps it is a fruitless endeavor, trying to judge so large a group. Perhaps it is the most excruciating arrogance on the part of the would-be observer. But you have chosen to undertake this anyway. And so it will continue.

    More than a simple test, though, this adventure will also determine the fate of a world that has long since been lost to time and memory. The world that serves as the foundation of the test in the Book of Unification was once a breathing entity just like the Earth, though some terrible fate changed that. It may have been thousands of years prior, or millions, or even billions -- the time is irrelevant because it is not, nor was it ever rendered in a way that could be stated relative to your current position in temporum. Still, one may take solace in knowing that, should they succeed, they will be ending an otherwise unbreakable, an otherwise unyielding cycle of unequivocal suffering on the part of those contained within the book. That the majority of these people are miserable in the month-long period that continually repeats before the end of their world is a simple statement of Fact. Therefore, the morality of this can not be disputed.

    The gateway is open by the time the heroes-to-be arrive. The doors to the library Silent Night have been left ajar, the foyer of the building left exposed to the tempest wracking the outside world. Amid the leaves the weave through the air and the puddles that likewise snake their way through and across the marble tiles is a book that seems somehow impervious to it all. This is the Book of Unification. This is the portal in question, and the goal of this short adventure. Its presence can not be ignored: as such, its form has been cloaked in a shimmering light of golden fire whose interior is tinged with amber. Perhaps this light represents an outpouring of energy, or something grander; we shall never know. For us, it is only, can only be an indication of its import.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The book is flung open, a vortex of pitch and stars hanging suspended above it. Walking toward this vortex seems to draw one closer without their conscious effort to walk. It is a compulsion that seems equal parts mental, physical, and spiritual, and so by the time one should have their feet at the base of the tome's opened pages, they have already reached their destination. Here they would join others in a slowly growing mass. The Masked Woman would greet them here, her younger compatriot waving to the lot of them from her right flank. The former's posture is nothing like what it was before with its slouched complacence: her arms are folded neatly and stiffly behind her back such that she looks almost statuesque. She is truly a worthy semblance of an angel to command that they not be afraid.

    It may bear mention that the world around the group is nothing like the gateway realm some may remember. There is no fireplace, nor papers, nor books. There is only a wide, wide, infinitely wide canvas of swirling, mist gray. One may glean the impression through some more implicit sense that they are high, high, too high: past the tip of the most sharp spire of a mountain were any such thing to be incarnate here for reference. This is so that they may witness this event holistically rather than separately. So that they may see the world be given life in earnest, rather than as some microcosm of itself; some more minuscule facet that could not communicate the grandeur to its fullest extent, nor stir the soul in quite the same measure.

    Here you are no mere human. Here no immortal needs be bound to the fickle reason conjured by a world that demands all life must swirl in a cycle of ashes to ashes. This is not one day, but Seven, and within this stint you will not only bear witness to the birth of a world, but be a key component of what renders that life entire. For this period of how-ever many days, or months, or years within which it will transpire, you are God.

    "We will begin when all are present," The Masked Woman informs.

    And so she waits in all austerity, all silence, and all apprehension. This is the time wherein others may make their greetings before things begin in earnest.

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    That the doors to Silent Night are open and the book is right there in the foyer, is a blessing of sorts. Setsuko had expected to have to navigate the library again; she'd taken care to memorize their previous route, but in a place like this there's no trusting that one's memory will be correct - either due to the changing of the library itself, or due to some effect warping perception or memory. So it's a thankful thing that they will not have to go hiking through the literary labyrinth.

    So the demigod walks with her usual calm, steady gait, right up to the book, right into the vortex. The peculiar effect is noted, but not a cause for concern, in large part because Setsuko trusts it to take her where she's going. But 'where she's going' has changed enough that when she arrives, the swordswoman arches a silver eyebrow. Some part of her can sense the importance of what this place has become. The significance of both the location and the moment. And yet she can only bring herself to murmur a simple, almost comically-understated observation. "You've redecorated."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The little girl beside the Masked Woman answers Setsuko in her compatriot's stead. "Oh! Not really, uh... this is... a different place. We can still go back there some time, though! You just popped up here this time for, um... reasons. Stuff. Stuff I don't really know how to explain, though. Sorry!" After a moment's pause, she adds, "THIS place is about to get redecorated though! It'll probably be really pretty!"

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa didn't need to be told long to arrive here she'd been aware the call would come and it comes. She doesn't take long to get herself to Mizuki world and comes to see just how this will play out. She understands the stakes, or at least has an idea of them. She's more than uncertain about what's going to be happening today. Well how it will take shape but that doesn't take loing she briefly greets Mizuki and then settles back in. The book opens and she did not expect this, but she looks and is just dragged towards it so to speak. She doesn't take long to settle in. She nods to the masked woman and her companion.

"So this is time. I'm not sure if I'm ready for this to be honest but well can't drag my feet on this now can I?"

She notes to the masked woman.

Rebecca Chambers has posed:
    Ever since she joined S.T.A.R.S., Rebecca Chambers found herself constantly wondering what she was getting herself into with a lot of her cases and missions. Even after enlisting in the Union, she constantly questioned what was truly going on until she accepted it as reality. Thus, the concept of something being too unworldly or of a similar nature to that has become the norm for Rebecca. So when Mizuki requests assistance, Rebecca is quick to respond. Using the intel she's received, Rebecca makes her way to where things are happening.

    Upon her arrival, Rebecca takes no time to gaze at any of the scenery or things like that. She knows she has a mission to accomplish, and she quickly makes her way to the location known as 'Silent Night.' Whether it's a code name or a real name is unknown to Rebecca until she arrives at the location and realizes it's the real name.

    It doesn't take her long to find her way to where the others are gathering, and as soon as she arrives, she stares at the masked woman and her companion for a moment before rendering a formal military salute. "I hope I didn't take too long, because as soon as I got the communication I came as quickly as I could, but I did get a little lost at one point. Nevertheless, I have arrived and am ready to assist in any way I am able to!"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "Correct," Responds the Masked Woman. "Now is the only time for what is about to transpire. There can be no other."

Staren has posed:
    Mizuki's world! Staren performs his usual test of IMAGINATION POWERS outside the gate, then races to the silent city, flying as fast as IMAGINATION will take him.

    Staren wonders why this area is so stormy now. Huh. Well, there is IMPORTANT BUSINESS to take care of right now, so no dawdling. He makes his way through the library, to the vortex, once again as a cat...

    ...Only to see, /this/ time, there is /plenty/ of room. In fact, there seems to be nothing /but/ room. Staren resumes his normal form and looks around. "So, um... where is everything? Is this, uh... well, what's going on? And did you two enjoy the games?"

Riva Banari has posed:
It was a dark and stormy night.

A perfect beginning to a story. A perfect time to sit by a fire and weave tales into a chain of memory, beyond twilight to the edge of sleep. That time that since immmemorial has belonged to poets, bards, and singers of song.

And so it was that Riva arrives in the Silent City, dancing through the rain and skipping over the puddles, a flash of red and brightness amidst the quiet storm. To the library, she proceeded, stepping into the halls with equal parts anticipation and trepidation. And yet her curiosity as ever wins out, the Templaress moving with the others through the labyrinthine library halls to reach the place where this world joins with another.

From one world -

- to another.

As she arrives into the swirling non-light, her eyes shine with wonder. The Masked Woman prompts them, but it doesn't stop Riva from clapping her hands in excitement, and turning to give the Masked Woman a quick wave. "Man, this is going to be /awesome/, M!" And then she turns and immediately moves to Emmy and gives her a big hug, since she seems more pro-hug than Serious Cat M. "And Emmy! I can't wait to see how this goes down. Aren't you excited too?"

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Kyra Hyral was actually quite excited to see the results of this grand experiment on Shiori's part. A world, created through the collaboration of many different sources, built brick by brick by the whole /beings/ of people invested in it's creation? It all sounded so high level, so fascinating, that she nearly couldn't sleep the night before they were to meet with Mizuki.

    As was the case when anything fascinating happened in the Multiverse, Kyra has brought along her mPro camera-a wearable camera made popular by the professional dungeon runners of her world-ready to record what transpires tonight. Barring interferrence from the world, of course, she will even 'Lifestream' this to her viewers back in Galianda. Given the subject matter, the stream is likely to get heavy traffic tonight from curious Galiandans.

    The new camera is much smaller than her older one and easily missed, the device perched neatly over her right ear, easily mistaken for a headphone with a pen attached to it. Everywhere she looks, the camera points as well. The recording starts, with a small bit of narration, at the gateway, "The threshold to the Book of Unification." she notes as she follows the others through. Then, once through: "Oh, uh, the room from earlier seems to have disappeared. We're..." She looks around at the gray expanse. "It's like a cloud. A cloud of...well, not nothing, this isn't void. It's like something...the building blocks of life?" It's less a question and more narration for the Viewers At Home. "'And thus She spake, unto the Chaos, 'Become and Be Shaped, Become and Be Patterned, Become and Be Life.' I know that one is going to get me downvotes but it feels appropriate to quote Cosmos here."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "This is the canvas!" Responds the younger girl. "So, yeah! It's... what's happening today. I mean, in a way. -IT- isn't happening, stuff is happening -TO- it! ... but I'm pretty sure that's what you meant anyway. Ehehe~." And as to the question of the games? She nods her head fervently. "YES! Oh my God they're the best things ever! ... I mean, after drawing. But they actually go together really well!"

Kimiko Shinobu (570) has posed:
    A young girl with long, silver hair is here, tied back in twintails. She's dressed for a biting winter, in coat and scarf. Her name is Shinobu Kimiko, and she is a silent observer, whether walking into the book, or observing those of this world, and not of this world, with them.

Auron (236) has posed:
    Those who have observed Auron's discomfiture on airships or plains might find it odd that he doesn't seem at all ill at ease so high up above the everything. Gray, swirling nothingness with the spires of mountains poking through the clouds doesn't seem to be really be too upsetting to him. As he arrives, he finds a place to stand quietly and watch the birth of the world.

    Auron's in his typical outfit, with a minor twist. He's made an effort to look as he did as a young man. He's left his left arm out of his coat, and hie shades and collar are nowhere to be found. Additionally, rather than leave his hair to flop over his shoulder in a haphazard ponytail, Auron has pulled his hair back in a neat ponytail, tied with a white ribbon wrapped several times around the ponytail. The same way he wore it before Braska died. That had to have taken him some time.

    Mind, there's no way to look completely like the man he was. The scar and added twenty years to his face rather preclude that. Also his hair's just a bit too spikey to lay flat like it used to, and quite a bit grayer. But he's making an effort, anyway. But in the end it should be enough. It's a look at the man he was, glimpsed through the filter of the man he is.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    For Riva, the Masked Woman gives no response whatsoever. Emmy, on the other hand, rushes to her side bouncing excitedly up and down. "SOOOOOooo excited!! I'm so glad you guys all made it!"

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber's here! He's hanging out in the usual casual manner of simply hanging out that seems to offset the constant formality, pomp, and circumstance that goes with Mizuki's world and most of its doings. He appeared with Theo, actually, travelling via his secret power. When he had emerged from whatever portal, tear, or otherwise hole in reality that the two appear from, he had simply looked at Theo with a slightly blank stare and said, "So uh... you travel that way all the time? ... huh. Huh."

    For now he seems content to stand around quietly with a pair of earbuds in his ears and rock on his feet, humming gently, "Hmmmhmm hmm bidding my master, it's a disaster, hmmm hmm hmm." His hands are in his pockets while he waits for things to get under way.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    You have already heard many stories of the world's creation at this point. You have heard those of Gods giving form, those of a creator drawing upon a canvas, those of a holy being's carcass becoming the foundation of the land amid the ocean.

    In this universe, all these pretty tales of the beginning of life can be stated whilst still bearing some resemblance to the truth. Yes, and as many an angel have sought to tell the simple men of the Earth, the machinations of that birth - the how - are not for mortals and their kindred to comprehend. Still, by some similar device you have arrived here, before the beginning. You have arrived before God created the heavens and the earth. You have arrived when that earth is formless and empty. In so doing, you may already have managed to glean an understanding of something that would baffle even the original envoys of the Lord's message.

    Above, below, and all around, there is only gray. The landscape never saw fit to resolve itself as any particular form or hue, so it settled on this intermediary: an undefined visage of milky-white that avails the eyes to naught but confusion. Though as we well understand, this will never do, not for the narrative we have set out to accomplish. For us, there must be some reason, some degrees of separation, something to break the shapes and colors into things we can rationalize as separate. So there must be something to illuminate this world of absence, to give it that life. There must be something to render the land itself in such a way that we may empathize with it and feel its pulse. With intent to solve this quandary does the first venerable edict arrive:

    "Let there be light."

    The command comes not of word, but of pure intent; it comes not from any one heart, but all hearts present, each of them working and speaking in concert with one another to achieve a single end. Perhaps those who usher along this change have no idea how, why, or in what way that have done so, but they would certainly know in an instant that their mere presence has wrought something absolutely irrevocable. They have spoken, and the world has listened. Something churns deep below, at the heart of things -- so, too, does some mirror in the nonexistent sky reflect each rumbling noise that begins to course through the quaking Earth. For the first time in millennia, or perhaps for the first time since time's beginning, there is motion. So the first ingredient of life is cast into the mixture.

    At once, motes of light erupt from the ground beneath the feet of the observers. White begins to flood one hemisphere of vision, the newly lightened space becoming the 'sky' and the darkened realm beneath becoming the 'ground'. The latter cuts a hazy elliptical shape across the former, still too muddled for one to resolve as a 'hill', but simple enough for one to finally perceive distance. There is a surface now upon which they may stand, and some reference for the observers to begin to see this as a planet in earnest rather than some fever image imposed upon one's closed eyelids. Sound, too, begins to penetrate to them: amid the storm of motion still rumbling beneath them and the rush of gleaming, crystalline flecks, some tone like a distant windchime is eventually conjured. To add to the conflagration is a sudden rush of wind: a chilled gust that bursts forth with such power that it might rattle the balance of the unsuspecting, only to calm into something more reminiscent of a continuous breeze once all the bluster has gone away.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    With these phenomena, sound, touch, and sight have constituted themselves here. The world has emerged from an indefinite blur to something more aptly described as a photo-negative, or an outline, or a silhouette. This has left the realm, perhaps moreso than ever before, impressionable. This has lain its soul bare for the appraisal of all onlookers. More than for mere appreciation, however; the world's beating heart cries for contact, yearns for the imagination of a human spirit to give it life.

    It is at this point that one may look back down to the ground and realize the presence of others again. They'll note another sound: murmurs of water, undulations of a puddle as feet tread its surface. The Masked Woman comes back into focus, looking to the rest of the group. She is for a moment silent before, after her seemingly interminable absence, she speaks again.

    "The world has made for you a foundation," She says, her voice tempered by a distant authority as though she were behind a podium, reading from a script. "Speak, and it shall listen. Open your minds and focus your every thought on whatever sounds you are able to hear, whatever sensations you are able to feel, and what semblance of the land you are able to perceive. Listen to the world so that it might hear you in kind. In so doing, you will become its harbingers."

    She does not literally mean for them to speak; it's more likely that she's asking them to continue focusing on whatever is happening here. Whatever will make the connection between them and the world more open and clear, perhaps, and in this instance that seems to be a form of undivided focus. Meditation, one might call it, or communion.

    No further direction is given. People are left to turn what thoughts they will to the budding realm, or otherwise to refrain from doing so and leave these formative musings to others.

Theo Morrison has posed:
The call goes out. Theo, in Boston at the time, decides he might as well take a short cut. This isn't something he intends to be late for.

Not a minute later, Theo slides out of a briefly-writ hole in space, a gap that the eye retreats from. What passes for reality wipes it away heartbeats after he passes, the world resolving around him into the storm over the city. Not something he should be left out in, he thinks. "Yeah, that's the way it goes. It might take a sec for you to remember what directions are," Theo remarks to Psyber. /He/ doesn't seem any worse for wear...

He beats feet towards the library proper -- the /correct/ library, since there's evidently more than one (note to self, he thinks, examine others later). The moment he gets there, the book draws him in. He doesn't hesitate, instead striding towards it with definite purpose. The myr that is almost always at his side is missing; his backpack is slung over his own shoulder for a change, the wooden tray tied firmly to the top loop. He takes a step... and finds himself in a place that is oddly familiar.

"Woah." Theo looks this way and that, trying to reconcile direction and destination in the canvas. It's like the Blind Eternities, he thinks. Not unfamiliar, but not the norm. He works his jaw for a moment, trying to put words to it. Something comes to mind almost the second Kyra starts to speak.

The world seems to handle the phrasing for him. Theo just sort of blinks as things all around him start to /be/. Actually, the fact that there is a concept of 'all around him' again is a nice and tension-relieving touch all its own.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    The soundless lightning has already played havoc on Eryl's implants, so he's sprinting to get inside the library. Seeing such a formerly austere place exposed to the elements has brought about a look of concern on his face. Mizuki would never let such a thing happen...

    But, the book beckons! Thankfully, Original Face has it marked as a concealed teleporter with fancy effects, so the diplomat strides ahead into it. But what lies beyond is certainly... different. The boundless tepid void and the uneasy sense of vertigo make his head pang... but who would want to miss the birth of a universe? To behold such a sight, he'll suffer all the migraines in the Multiverse.

    Others may note that his edges of his cape is now being held together by a medal pinned to his chest, of a sword surrounded by musical notes. He bows his head to their hosts and smiles. "It begins today. Thank you for all your help, and for any help you may have to offer in the future."

Konoe Kanno (847) has posed:
     As Konoe recalled, it was about time. She returned to this world, to that library, to that book. All was prepared for her, for their arrival. Though rather loathe to step into that vortex again, she stepped forward, pushing down her apprehension as she was drawn back into that world.

     But rsther than return to that fireplace she shee remembered, she found herself high, high above. In a mist of constantly swirling gray. "......?" Konoe blinked. "This is...um...new." She muttered, 'stepping' closer to approach the others. Seemed like she was late. Whoops.

     Without giving any pleasantries, other than a few nods, the miko looked down below, watching as the process began. Light shines, and the earth shakes. Sky is born, and land is created. Konoe's eyes widen a little bit at the witness of this phenomenon. Was this truly the process at which a world was created? Was this how 'Gods' started everything? From a canvas of nothing? Now she truly wondered.

     But wondering about that wasn't really the right time now. Instead, she followed the Masked Woman's suggestion and focused. She didn't allow herself to think about any one thing, and simply looked on, taking in as much detail as she could while watching as this new world was created before her eyes. This was something that she didn't want to miss a single detail of, if she could help it.

Beli Klum (238) has posed:
    Beli's arrival is a quiet one. She's familiar enough with the library that she doesn't give much pause to the area; it's just a matter of getting to the world in that book again.

    /That's/ a stranger affair. It's...completely different from how it last was. A broad, sweeping land of...nothing? Odd. The rephaite is clearly a little jarred at first, but after a brief confusion, she offers greetings to those who've come as well and waits to see what's going on now.

    And it certainly is an impressive event.

    Beli was present - orchestral, even - in the creation of another world already: Purgatorio, the land she watches over now. It was different from this overall, but the similarities are all too striking to her to not recall that incident. It's for that reason that /her/ world is the first thing she thinks of: light and dark in conflict, with gray shielding those caught in the middle and lashing out at both. Both peace and duality at war with one another. The Masked Woman tells them to focus, and while Beli certainly tries to focus on the world around her, she can't avoid those mental connections fixating in her mind repeatedly.

    It makes her frown a little in frustration at herself, but...whatever.

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    "I see," Setsuko replies, inclining her head in both greeting and acknowledgement of the younger girl. "Then I'm looking forward to seeing it." The arrival of others draws nods of greeting to each in turn, especially those who were here for the previous meeting and left items behind. Psyber gets a brief, confused look from someone not at all used to seeing him listening to music. Kimiko, however, shortly finds the demigod standing next to her, just before the show starts.

    And what a show it is.

    The coming of light. The separation of heaven and earth. It is so primal, so basic a distinction, yet so significant to the very concept of a universe's existence, that she can only watch in the silence of a low-key, but profound awe. Only when the Masked Woman speaks does Setsuko truly force herself to recognize what she is seeing and hearing. To examine it, intently. To look out over the land newly-formed, to close her eyes and listen to the subtle sounds of a world taking shape. To smell what scent she might catch on a newborn breeze.

    And without meaning to, the silver-haired woman finds herself thinking back to her childhood, to the pristine stillness around Blue River in winter. It's... nostalgic, in a way that almost aches.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki has been watching all this transpire in silence since it began, her expression held spellbound in its own form of reverence. It's perhaps ironic considering the circumstances and location, but one could just as easily forget that she was here at all with how she has mingled into the crowd, and how her body seems almost translucent. Still, she manages to notice Eryl as he arrives. At the sight of his medal, she lays a palm gingerly upon its surface, tapping it twice in succession before pulling her hand away. She gives no words, though she does share with the savior a quite unique smile of peace, of contentment.

    For some reason Eryl might garner the impression that that sight of her will stick with him for quite some time to come.

Rebecca Chambers has posed:
    The words which are spoken send mixed feelings to Rebecca, but the way they're spoken really sit with her in a unique way all the same. She focuses as best as she can on what's being said, and then things start to get underway. At first, the light that comes out seems to startle her, but then she remembers the instruction to focus, and that's just what she tries to do, as difficult as it may seem.

    Taking a deep breath, Rebecca lowers her eyes a little, as if attempting to clear her mind a little while she focuses on the land. It's not an easy task for her, since she's mostly an action junkie who doesn't handle things like this. But she does manage to get it, and then she finds herself looking deep into her thoughts. Unfortunately, the thoughts she feels aren't the most positive ones. All she can focus on right now is the incident that took place at the Arklay Estate in Raccoon City, with the reminders of the Ecliptic Express nightmare that led to her meeting Billy Coen and learning the truth about the Umbrella Corporation.

    Rebecca squeezes her eyes shut as if to try to dismiss them, but there's nothing she can do. Shrugging a little, Rebecca attempts to just let her mind stick with what she's got in her mind right now. Hopefully, by doing this whole thought process thing (for want of a better term in her opinion) maybe something will come of it in a better way.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Arthur's here. He left his mark before, and he'll leave his mark now. When DID he show up? Well, it probably doesn't matter. What matters is that the messy little rocket jerk is here to do his thing. And today, that means making a universe, in a sense! Arthur's familiar with that. He's done it before, albeit not so indirectly. Back then, he had to come up with all the uncollapsed waveforms to BE collapsed.

    This time, it oughta be easy. For Arthur, he has a special way of listening. He's far from a Seer, but the kid, floating casually and relaxedly along, looking for all the world like he might as well be asleep despite the incredible display just a moment ago -- no matter what, it's STILL impressive to see a world forming -- will begin to gently extend his senses as a Mage of Space. He can feel and direct the collapse, the gradual observation-dependent formation. He can give it form on subatomic levels while the others handle the macro scale. He'll listen and watch with the ears and eyes of a god well-versed in the construction and composition of a universe, to a deeper level.

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa smiles fainly to the Masked woman there's not much more to day now is there? She listena dn watches from this point. She pauses she does not really hear the command she just feels it and everyone seems to be effecting it, she does not know just how but she sees clearly it is, prehaps that is enough for her. She's witnessing the birth of an entire world so to speakj that everyone here has had an effect on. She listen and attemps to focus her mind on the task at hand which is what she feels, whaqt she hears she has abd thusly Kotone remains intely focused on the Land and what will come of it. She does however She's just beyond words at this point for the moment.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "I hope that was picked up." Kyra murmurs after she hears 'Let there be light.', or rather, feels it, though it is felt so powerfully that it seems like the words have been spoken. It at least ushers in a tipping point with distant rumbling and pulsing light, the existance around them resolving like a slow-loading, still rendering high resolution picture.

    She doesn't narrate anything after that, especially as the Masked Woman speaks, filling the role of narrator for them. Maybe this was the part the Masked Woman had to play from the outside, given that she didn't seem to be a part of the story.

    Kyra turns her attention to the surface, listening to the sounds of those below, straining, curious, to see what's going on. If it was a Book of Unification and they started at the /start/ of the book, that must mean the people were not unified yet, were they? They must have a lot of conflict.

Riva Banari has posed:
As anticipatory as it is, the nature of this simple yet profound alteration of existence manages to keep Riva from blabbering on. Her highly energetic (some might even say hyperactive) demeanor is suddenly engrossed in the multisensual nature of the act of creation around her on a scale never really comprehended before. The light is divided from the darkness, the land given form.

To Riva, it gets kind of Biblical in her mind. But that's how she is.

As the foundation is laid, Riva ponders for a moment, and smiles. "I can't think of better company for this." She comments quietly, and then closes her eyes, her stance changing as she seems to strain, listening or searching out things intently. What couldshe be looking for? Or is it even anything in specific?

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "Now," Speaks the Masked Woman, "we begin."

    She takes a step forward, and the world beneath her feet pulses as though it were water. Her arms move to neutral positions at her sides before she lays her palm against a certain section of the air. A translucent barrier appears with her touch, ripples of cerulean light emanating from her hand with a gradually quickening pace. As the group bear witness, the waves grow faster, and faster, and faster still. Finally, when the pressure becomes too much for the ethereal wall to bear,

        it shatters.

    The dam breaks. A deluge of cosmic proportions spills forth.

    Winds strong enough to stay the feet of Atlas cut and weave visibly through the area. White streaks dance a conflagration around all those present, perhaps even blinding them to the first true display of the world's rebirth. A brilliant light flies from the Masked Woman's opened palm, striking the gray 'hill' twice, leaving flecks of emerald in its wake both times. Grass. Before it hits the ground a third time, it takes to the air in a phenomenal burst of golden energy the likes of which were cloaking the Book of Unification before. Bolts of its light rain from the heavens in the following of its ascent, and each one that makes contact with the ground brings renewed life. Dots of green fill the landscape until there is nothing else to be seen, then once the progenitor of all these flames finds its throne within the clouds, blue erupts far above. Sky. Cyan blankets the world above the plains, leaving only small splotches of the mist-gray behind as clouds.

    If one were to appraise the land as it is now, they would see a world in earnest: rolling hills, swaying ryes, and some time later, even trees. What was once difficult to describe as anything at all has in the span of several moments rendered itself as a planet capable of sustaining life. This might have taken the Earth four and a half billion years. This same process has transpired here in practically the bat of an eye.

    Though the children of the would-be sun continue to dance across the newly-christened ground. Those of them that happened to land on grass after their kin had already colored it with their power take on different forms: animals. Flowers. Ponds. Character and variety is given to the land as quickly as the land itself was wrought, and so soon enough there are strange creatures akin to wildebeests and buffalo roaming to and fro, massing together as they're born in a rush to move elsewhere, away.

    It is only after one has appraised these creatures for long enough that they would begin to realize that things are moving quickly, much too quickly. Their forms blur and race from one side of the visible world to the next. They graze and run and walk with impossible speed. Only by watching them and the equally disorienting sway of the rapidly-forming tree canopies would one realize: it is not natural. Time has quickened, and it is hurtling them further and further in time. Seasons pass in milliseconds. Spring dries Winter snows so quickly the one can barely comprehend that there was ever a Winter at all, but by the time they have had this thought seven more Winters would already have come and gone. Days pass, years pass, eons pass. And by the time the world gradually begins to slow, the group would see something new on the horizon. Something strange.

    Something human.

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    From nothingness to life. From nothing to everything. Even now, some subconscious part of Setsuko is more aware than the rest of her. That part of her realizes that they're all seeing things much faster than they actually happen. Happened? She's not sure. It feels as once as if they are directly witnessing a world's formation as it happens, and as if they're simply looking into a distant past.

    Only the appoach of something vaguely familiar draws her out of her stillness. She takes a half-step forward, as if to improve her viewing angle. She knows it's futile, but it's instinct. She's curious.

Staren has posed:
    Let there be LIGHT

    Staren clenches a fist unconsciously as he feels/thinks/wills that <span class=" bold_fg_w bg_n ++ ommand.

    chw">Light.</span> It illuminates the feared unknown, makes it known. Understood. Either to be worked around, or to be controlled and used to allow people to shape their own destiny...

    Light. When people can see clearly, they need not fear so much, the fear that drives people to do desperate, horrible things, to think only as far ahead as they can see in the darkness...

    Light. It illuminates where people are, and the way forward.

    Too many universes are without any light but what the people there can eventually learn to shine on their own, from a darkness that is nasty, brutish, and short.

    Can they shine more light here...?

    

    Staren shakes his head slightly as the world... resolves, squinting until matter and distance become a thing. And then suddenly he stumbles back at a gust of wind. He watches the masked woman and his companions curiously as they stand here at this... still-forming world. He gasps softly as the dam breaks, and... life appears. Animals and plants. Staren's wowed taking it all in for a moment, before he notices what's missing:

    People.

    This world is meaningless without people. But... oh, time is passing. Is this evolution? Fascinating... Staren tries to notice things, catch details, but it all goes by so fast...

    There.

    Without thinking, Staren tries to approach, get closer, to see the first thing that matters in this world...

Rebecca Chambers has posed:
    What is this view? What is Rebecca seeing?

    She stares in disbelief and confusion, wondering what she's truly looking at. Is this supposed to be some kind of premonition or something? Or is it some kind of relaxing subliminal message? Whatever it is, Rebecca isn't sure what to make of it, so she just continues to observe it, waiting to see what will come next. It's almost surreal, yet Rebecca isn't too surprised by it after all she's been through.

Konoe Kanno (847) has posed:
     As the world continues to take shape, Konoe merely remained where she stood, making no effort to get closer or 'see'. Curious and apprehensive, she watched as grass formed, and figures took shape, then began to move through the environment at paces that looked...wrong. Or odd in any case.

     Were they watching time fast forward? Or were they looking in on the past? Konoe couldn't tell, but she kept silent all the same and watched. And eventually, figures appeared on the horizon. Figures that looked vaguely human. Her eyes narrowed in an attempt to sharpen her vision and better see what they might be.

Auron (236) has posed:
    It is indeed blinding, to Auron's single remaining human eye. He closes it, until he can acclimate to the light. He probably misses some of the formation. But once he can see again, he too opens that eye again, and watches as the world forms, season pass faster than his mind can comprehend. He's aware it's happening but he can't keep track of it. He doesn't try. This is creation-level stuff, things he's not going to be able to grasp. So he just stays quiet and watches as the world takes shape.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Standing on the horizon is the framework of a cylindrical building that is still being built. It is but a thin line to split the sky in twain from here, but one can see that, judging by its distance, it must be impossibly tall to be visible from this location at all. The still-hastened pace of time beats ever onward, propelling the group forward by increments of months at a time. As these months - or minutes, for them - tick away, the structure continues to rise further and further into the sky. Eventually it grows so large that one must look up to see its peak. Just a few more centimeters by their perception; just a few more and it might even go so far as to reach the stratosphere. And it is clear by the pace of time that this has not occurred in eons, but mere decades. In sixty, perhaps even fifty years, people have created an edifice so tall as to breach the gate of the clouds themselves.

    Yet time, as ever, is without concern for human toil. There comes another period of time where flames overtake the city forming at its base, and where clouds of smoke obscure the sight of it. Brilliant swords of every vivid color imaginable - magically rendered spears, perhaps - fire at the building in question until the entire cylinder snaps in half. In just as short a time, the work of these architects is undone, and the high half of the tower cants to one side. In time, it falls. It lands to earth in a cataclysmic surge of smoke and ash that must surely have crushed a quarter of the city's houses, to say nothing of what the ensuing shockwave must have done to the rest. Indeed, and the sound of its landing can be heard even here, slowing the river of moments itself just to make its death kneel known.

    For a time, then, all is quiet.

        The tower never again grows in size.

    Yet people endure. The city at its base rebuilds, and what remains of the tower is maintained. Instead of building upwards now, the people of the realm build around themselves. More flecks of silver and stone begin to dot the landscape: cities, settlements, roads. They eventually reach so far as to make a small gathering of shacks shortly in front of the group watching this all take place. Given a few more years, these ramshackle abodes transform into stone-clad mansions. Streets form, followed by marketplaces aside them. And chapels form, their stained glass the only constant as day and night rapidly switch positions.

    After this city has reached what would appear to be the zenith of its growth, only then does time begin to normalize. The passage of day into night slows such that one can see the sun and moon gradually arcing over the horizon rather than rushing like the animals across the plains so many years past. Yet when time seems ready to settle into something more reasonable, more traditional, more like what those who have come here would consider 'normal', something else happens instead.

    It stops entirely.

    The sun locks into place on the periphery of sky. The moon is never seen again. Twilight is visible for the first time since the group has been watching this world progress; this is, after all, the first time when it has existed long enough for it not to pass them by. Yet the trouble is more that, once it is present, the twilight never abates. Blades of grass still sway, trees still move, and one can easily tell that time is continuing to progress at a quickened pace, and yet the sky never changes. This takes its toll with phenomenal speed, withering many trees and harshly thinning the grasses from the hills. The buildings of the city before them begin to show wear, too -- something that has hardly shown at all in what must have been a hundred years. Why in Creation would such a conscientious people only grow complacent now?

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Before that inquiry can be answered, time halts for the observers as well. Time finally clicks into place, signaling the end of their journey. Though they likely had not noticed her for the duration of the 'artful' display, the Masked Woman has nevertheless been present with all the rest. Seeing her cue to speak again, she begins anew:

    "The world has been born. Now it will be tempered by your hand."

    With those words, she raises her palm to face the lot of them. Spheres of light in too many colors to enumerate begin to emerge from those present. These lights swirl around the Masked Woman as a carousel of the personal artifacts they had bequeathed to her revolve around her person, coaxing their respective lights to them. And when each pair has joined together they sail across the sky in glorious amber arcs, racing to unknown regions of the realm.

    Though they cannot be seen, echoes of their deeds feed back here in the form of short snippets of thought. Like words etched upon their minds, they speak, conjure, and inform.

    These messages are to follow.

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa can't help but think of several creation stories briefly and wonders about it but the world is taking shape before them all. She watches the whole thing take shape. She's watching a world take shape at an overclocked rate and she sees the history of a world pan out in a blink of an eye. She wonders is this how it looks to God she muses but soon enogh commeth humanity.

Staren has posed:
    It's hard to see the tiny humans, but the works of their hands are visible even to the gods. Staren leans down, curiously watching the tower build up. To what purpose are they building, Staren wonders?

    But then, in no time at all, it's destroyed. Was that a war? Or an attack by something else, unseen? The humans abandon their tower, though. Staren frowns and his lips pout slightly in disappointment. Did they give up? Or was the tower /actually/ a mistake? It's too hard to tell just yet. At least the humans are building again, one way or another. Staren frowns slightly as he notices there are churches now, when there weren't before the tower fell. Should he be worried about that?

    Time stops.

    And it seems to /actually/ be eternal twilight... the plants are dying, and the people, judging by the wear on the buildings, must be dying too.

    Staren frowns. But, there must be yet people. Otherwise, there would be no purpose to their coming here.

    Time for it to be tempered by their hands, huh?" Staren nods, standing up and slipping his hands into his pockets. "Alright, let's do this."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "...wow." Kyra breathes out, "This is...I doubt many people get the chance to see a civlization rise and fall." The speeded version of things did give her a slight headache to watch and comprehend, but she pushes through both annoyances, eager to see where this goes. She seems excited to see metal come about more prominently, awaiting the skyscrapers she's sure to follow.

    Then it all abruptly stops, as if creation was placed on pause. "Wha...oh, so we're supposed to-"

    She watches lights emerge from everyone there, looking from here to there, lingering on Riva before she scoots forward and tries to poke one of the lights leaving her fellow redhead. She completely misses the lights leaving her.

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    Distant war. Though Setsuko knows not the sides, nor their reasons, nor the victor or defeated, she knows it when she sees it. When she /feels/ it. War, with cataclysmic consequences for those swept up in it. The felling of the tower is the only time Setsuko closes her eyes, in brief acknowledgement of those now lost. And it is truly only brief, for if she keeps those eyes closed long, she knows she'll miss the rest.

    Then time comes to a halt, and yet moves on. Blue eyes widen slightly. A world suddenly without day to feed the plants, a world locked in perpetual twilight. If years are passing like this, then this world is... it's in a bad way. No wonder they're here.

    The light from within Setsuko is a brilliant, deep sky-blue, and looking into it almost seems to be like looking into a storm. When it merges with the small case she'd left behind, Setsuko can only watch in silence, and wait, and watch.

Riva Banari has posed:
And the prologue, such as it is, completes itself. Nature turned by the hand of man, and an expression of beautiful hubris cast down in a blaze of overwhelming devastation.

An example of man's cruelty to man, or something more? Riva cannot judge. All she can do right now is feel. She inhales sharply as everything stops, but it is when Kyra pokes at a sphere that her and her eyes snap open as she emits a sudden, "Meep!"

She looks around for a moment at the others, squinting at Kyra and giggling for a moment before her attention moves to the Masked Woman. She watches the spheres, the gifts given to them be cast into the world in one form or another.

One form or another...

Riva fidgets for a moment, rubbing her chin, and she leans over to give Kyra a comforting snug. "That was a thing, wasn't it?" She says quietly.

Auron (236) has posed:
    It's when time stops that Auron feels a pang of pity for the world. Dying while still alive, and never able to really die. Being Unsent is a little like that... walking about but knowing all too well it's not life inside you that's keeping you going. So he's all too ready for this to be fixed. He does look at the lights coming out of him. They don't look like pyreflies quite, but it does make him remember a handful of things.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    Eryl smiles at Mizuki as she taps her gift to him. "It's a fitting title," is all he says, letting the moment between them linger in silence otherwise. Though he doesn't show it in body language, he is on the metaphorical edge of his hypothetical seat right now. And then it begins.


It's amazing.

    The absolute genesis of the world, in such stunning detail, in such vivid verisimilitude that Original Face... cannot peg it as an illusion. There's too many small details for it to be a trick of the mind, far too much thought to be just a thought. It simply dismisses it as some kind of holographic show, so Eryl can watch in peace. Every moment is saved, stored and backed up within his implants, so he can watch it again.

    The sudden rise of a tower that exceeds the heavens naturally makes Original Face conjure up the Tower of Babel, Bible verses flashing through his mind. So it's no surprise to him when it falls, but being by the hands of Man makes him raise an eyebrow.

    And then, it all comes crashing to a halt so suddenly that Eryl actually flinches a bit. The words of the Masked Woman makes him turn to face her, his eyes widening as motes of light drift from his form. 'Still just a holographic show' he reassures his implants as he watches his tie absorb those specks and shoot off into the horizon.

Konoe Kanno (847) has posed:
     And then came civilization. Or the beginnings of it anyway. That tower rising into the sky got Konoe's attention, and made her head tilt. Why would they build such a high tower? It almost seemed like they were trying to reach god by their own hands. The sight of the tower being half destroyed made her blink. ...Looks like someone or something had the same thought.

     Eventually, time seemed to normalize, suggesting that they were reaching the end of this fast forwarding.

     Then time stops. "Hm?" It took a second for her to realize. She looked towards the Masked Woman, and then down, watching a light escape from herself. ".......?" Quizzically, Konoe watched as the light left her and was collected with others. This is what she meant by them contributing?

     ...But what did she contribute? She had no idea. Maybe she'd know if she saw it.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    By now, several of the personal effects have been sent spiraling across the world like the stars before them. The first group of these send back their own messages: words, images, and emotions.

    The first of these depicts an aging man with a stern face and silvering hair. He is clad in a tan uniform decorated with all manner of badges that demonstrate an exceptionally high status in his organization, an idea that's solidified all the more by the tasseled epaulets at his shoulders. He keeps his arms folded behind his back as he strolls past a group of lower-ranking soldiers, his jackboots harshly grinding the rubble beneath them as he walks, his gait slowing at times so that his eyes may bear into the souls of those unfortunate men and women under his command. By the end of the vision his face has contorted in rage as he soundlessly barks some command and the lot of them go dashing off down a barren pathway.

    Something unseen identifies him as The Sergeant. The word instills mild discomfort in all those who hear it, if not outright fear.

    The second of these depicts a city in a ravine between two sheer mountain ranges. The occupants of this region have built homes on stilts and affixed them to the mountains to give themselves more space to live, begging the question of why they have chosen to live somewhere so claustrophobic in the first place. This does not remain a question for long once one has seen the visage of one of the people who dwell here. Their face is one of twisted bone and mangled flesh that seems never to have fully formed. The left side of their face, too, is nothing but bone structured around the vestigial components of what might once have made a human eye. One may easily call them a zombie, a ghoul, a monster; anyone would call them frightening to behold. Still, a perfectly normal young woman clutching a basket of flowers emerges from a nearby shack, sharing a pleasant wave with this character. Might this be a place where such disparate creatures may know peace?

    This hamlet shall be known as The Truce. The words carry the same sensation as a soft spring breeze.

    That image fades away, its constituents swirling until they congeal once more as a forest floor. It seems at first a quiet, somber place where light gingerly streams past the canopy and the only sound to be heard is the rustling of leaves with the wind, but a glance to the East proves this untrue. Here there is a chapel of sorts, but with the staircase leading to its rear entrance collapsed and innumerable holes littering its roof. The structure looks sodden and dismal in spite of its lofty, holy consecration, and this sight is made all the more miserable by sounds of wicked laughter and the shattering of glass bottles. The silhouettes of marauders throwing blades at a cowering individual tied to a stake can be seen through a dreary windowsill, and something subliminal may lead one to believe that, with this vision, the edifice itself is crying for help.

    This place shall be known as The Shrine. The words are enough to fill one with a feeling of sobering lament.

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa mouth is haning open as the people build the tower and then it comes down in a storm of suffering and carnage. She frowns a bit wondering what is the tale of tha tower, the whos and why to it. She may yet find out but she keeps focusing on the world and what will comes. She starts to pay even closer attention to everyone here. The Sergeant gets a bit of a chill from her, The Truce on the other hand gets a more gilmer of hope from her and the Thrine? She has ah urge to go in there and flip some tables...

Staren has posed:
    OH. That's what the masked woman meant...

    Staren frowns slightly as he sees The Sergeant. He doesn't seem like a nice man. They made him? Not intentionally, surely...

    A town in a strange place. Interesting. Staren /does/ wonder why they live there. Not that 'because they can' wouldn't be answer enough for humans to live somewhere... but with the ruins of civilization ripe for the taking...

    He startles at the sight of the ghoul. Zombie? No... the light of intelligence shines in its single eye. What...

    And a human finds it /normal/..

    The Truce... Oh.

    /Oh/.

    Staren's heart is warmed and he smiles. Humans and monsters both inhabit this world... and it seems they don't live in harmony elsewhere, but in one place, light shines.

    The third vision is one of some building. Staren doesn't care much, until... Ah. As the last vision was of light, so this one is of darkness. He frowns and growls subconsciously... but, at least /something/ here seems to know this is wrong, and cries out for them to do something...

Rebecca Chambers has posed:
    Rebecca can only stare with tons of mixed emotions as she watches everything go down. In some ways it's almost like being in a dream while for other ways it's almost like some kind of old memory coming to life in a sense. Regardless, she is beyond a loss for words at what she sees. She can't understand everything, it's all so many things at once...

Konoe Kanno (847) has posed:
     More details begin to take shape within this world. People, places, things. However, one in particular sticks out to her. A place whose peace seems to have been disturbed. Lost to the whims of time and man. A building that has seen far better days. A church? A shrine? Konoe's ears twitched at the faint sound of cruel laughter emanating from within. "......" It bothered her. It bothered her greatly, but she couldn't place why...

Auron (236) has posed:
    Auron closes his remaining eye to more clearly focus on the images and emotions without the sight of what his eye can see confusing him. His hearing is his best sense, so it should follow that many of the images that come with this should be accompanied with sound. How much is going on? Probably more than can be translated to human sense. Hence closing his eye; he's restricting the input a little more, filtering it through the sense that he's developed the best. But there's a lot that isn't filtering out. So the closing of his eye should help him focus better on it.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    And now, visions. This, Original Face does not like at all. Not something that can be written off as literal tricks of the light. He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales slowly, trying to calm the ache...

    But The Sergeant...

    For the first time in years, Eryl actually experiences a purely physiological reaction, untempered by his augments. A sensation of something dropping into the pit of his stomach, his skin feeling drawn, a cold sweat breaking out, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end...

    Nothing his implants know can explain it either, so that's another 'error' on the pile. But these sensations fade as the visions move on, and while the others still cause aches, nothing as extreme as the first. How... who was that man? Some kind of drill sergeant it seems, he certainly fits the clich�. Marching up and down a line of soldiers, barking orders. It doesn't seem to follow... how could that be his contribution?

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Kyra giggles at the reaction poking one of Riva's colored spheres elicits from the artist. It's enough to make her poke even more of them if she gets the chance, sticking her finger into them like she's going to pop bubbles. "I know, right?" She wraps an arm around Riva and hugs back, giggling again.

    The giggling fades as images are presented to them. Kyra, being Kyra, hates The Sergeant on sheer PRINCIPLE, he being some kind of jackbooted authority figure.

    The little hamlet is...strange to her. There is no Truce between monsters and Humes on her world. Seeing them living together without conflict is very strange to behold. The Shrine...stirs regret, though she's not sure why exactly.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    After the previous mementos have departed, this group follows closely behind. The glorious streaks of energy they leave behind are a welcome reprieve from the otherwise unrelenting, ashen veil that so dominates the sky.

    The fourth vision encountered by the group is that of a beautiful meadow. The three waterfalls that pour into its basin, however, arrive from places far less beautiful. Though the meadow itself is filled to the brim with crystalline waters and gentle fauna of all kinds, almost no life exists beyond this interval. Rocky crags dominate the landscape, and it looks as though this place has seen much turmoil. Earthquakes, shifts, perhaps even wars have worked together to make this a region where only moss, if anything, is allowed to grow. Yet in spite of the fact that all creatures within the basin have ceased to move, and even though the waterfalls have ceased to churn with the stoppage of time, a sound can still be heard here. The gentlest of chimes emanates from this place at certain times of day, always playing the same tune, always eager to provide solace for any who are able to make the journey. Sadly, one may well garner the impression that that only so seldom transpires.

    This hollow shall be know as The Vale.

    For the first time since these visions began, though, a more pronounced sound can be heard. As the mists conjuring the vision come back together as the interior of what would appear to be a restaurant, one can hear music -- something seemingly Celtic in origin, played by a lute and flute in tandem. It's an upbeat tune, and as the vision rounds a corner, one can immediately see six-some individuals crowded around a gentle risen area - a stage - clapping their hands and, in spite of the dismal conditions of the room they occupy, smiling along with the performance. The performers, too, seem to be smiling... or that appears to be the case at first. In reality they are both wearing matching masks: bronze masks fixed into grins. One might garner the impression that these are only two of a much larger group, however; that they represent something larger than themselves.

    And that group they represent would surely be The Merrymen, the famous - or as the case may sometimes be, infamous - gathering of wanderers, minstrels, couriers, and storytellers.

    For the next vision, the mists again conjure the likeness of a forest. This wood, however, is far different from its more quiet predecessor that held The Shrine. This is a realm of vibrant color and gilded leaves, of water so pure as to render one's reflection. It is the sole place in all the world where nonhuman animals have managed to weather the severance of time, and it has aptly been called the Forest of Hope. All these traits may lead one to believe this place is quite idyllic, but all this comes with a price. One may well feel a pronounced apprehension to coincide with the promise of this place, though the vision would come just short of giving this warning specificity. 'Beware the allure of the golden forest,' Is all one could understand. Alas, its true nature may only arrive in some future revelation.

    This would-be paradise is Hoffnungwald -- The Mirror Forest.

Staren has posed:
    And on the tail of that unsettling vision of darkness and pleading...

    A place of peace, and solace. Staren has never been one for quiet meditation, though. Seldom has he felt it would help him, except perhaps to help him fall asleep. Still, at least it is not a vision of anger or darkness...

    The Merrymen. Staren smiles, starting to rock back and forth to the music slightly. Bringing joy to people's hearts is another form of light.

    And at last a haven of nature. Staren does not idealize nature, but... in a world like this, a place of surviving animal life may have a part to play. Staren wonders if the apprehension is a warning of the natural, or the supernatural...

Auron (236) has posed:
    For some reason, The Vale catches Auron's attention as particularly sad. A place that offers solace, so far beyond the reach of people that no one would ever know it. The Merrymen are interesting too... do they sile under those masks, or is the smile merely that... a mask? And the Mirror Forest gets suspicion. Maybe it's too good to be true. But that feeling of apprehension and warning is definitely something to be considered...

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa more comes a frozen land of beautiful lands and haunmting song The Vale, the Merrymen come next which gets her intrest even in a dark time people still need to laugh but the Mirror forest almost feels like a type of Security system from her home and it purts her on edge as she watches it pan out before her.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The seventh vision is twofold. It first shares the likeness of no more than four individuals seated on finely wrought, red satin seats that have been gathered comfortably around a fireplace. Their clothes are almost Western in design in ways that make them seem reminiscent of The Sergeant's uniform. One of them, a man with pure white hair and misty white eyes, sets down a glass of wine before unceremoniously tearing a page from what would appear to be a holy text. He proceeds to condense this page into the smallest sphere before throwing the thing deep into the hearth, the warm light of the blaze sweeping over his eyes in a way that makes him appear somehow wrong, somehow twisted.

    The vision loses itself within the swirl of smoke called to life by the discarded page, but it soon returns in another, equally lavish room. This room, however, is decorated with gleaming alabaster tiles and well-woven tapestries rather than silk, and its general atmosphere would be immediately reminiscent of the Vatican. Here sits a a woman with intense red hair, veiling her face with an ornately decorated fan. Beside her is a massive man whose face might as well have been carved from the side of a mountain, one of his mighty hands grasping a glorious staff that swims with the light of life. Further from them stands a younger man clad in armor, his hands balanced over the pommel of a downward-pointed sword, his eyes cast outside a window to the extreme left of the room.

    The first of these groups was without a doubt The Tinkers. The latter could only have been The Valiants.

    Once the latter image departs, there is a short pause before another arrives -- a brief period to highlight the subsequent one as belonging to a separate object, a separate person. Here manifests a mighty castle of Eastern make, its ornately tiled roofs punctuated at high corners by golden statuettes and handwritten charms that hang from its rafters. Yet once the visual has had time to pan out far enough, one can begin to see wear on it as well, and far more such damage lingering within its surrounding village. Some houses look worn whilst others have collapsed entirely, but the castle itself still stands, both its flanks guarded by warriors clad in armor wrought in distant, bygone days. Though the working population that meanders about the area seems tired, aimless, even forlorn, still an aura of almost chivalric honor pervades the realm within its walls.

    This is The Rampart. The words carry with them a musty scent of tradition and a pale breeze that mourns the loss of its past.

    For the tenth time the mental vortex swirls shut, reopening once more in depiction of a caravan traveling the road. They ride together on a wagon powered by some mixture of magic and steam, an engine loudly whirring at its base whilst an adjoining pipe expels white-tinted clouds to the errant breeze. They are a group of all species and sizes, of children whose postures make them seem equals to their older peers, and of people who examine foaming beakers even as the uneven roads may threaten to spill their concoctions in their laps. They seem somehow innocent yet somehow dauntless; somehow weary yet somehow zealous. It's unclear where they must be going, but it's all too evident that the packages and chemicals they carry will only be used to the benefit of all living things.

    These are The Luminaries. The words alone can fill a troubled heart with hope the likes of which is rarely seen.

Staren has posed:
    Oh hey, more visions! Staren doesn't have enough information to form an opinion on the Tinkers or the Valiants. He shakes his head sadly at the Rampart, clinging to the past, and then smiles and nods approvingly at the sight of the Luminaries.

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    A swirl of information, of emotions. A stern and cold commander whom Setsuko's divine side instantly identifies as wrong, and a likely enemy. A peaceful hamlet where the malformed of the world may find a life of dignity, to perhaps know the peace they should be entitled to. A holy place long fallen to disrepair, longing for the magnificence it once held. A remote meadow offering succor, but too far out of reach. A cadre of performers, bringing entertainment to a world of despair. A hauntingly beautiful forest that offers a temptation too good to be true.

    But it is the Rampart that most strikes Setsuko. The march of the forlorn populace, their fighting spirit gone. The rigid guard around the aging castle, still standing by their duty. Setsuko's human and divine sides both resonate with this place, and she knows that she'll be going there, with only 'when' being undefined.

    And all of it. All of this world and its misery, overseen by an angel, broken in heart at the sight of the world's misery. All of it watched from the roadside by a man who calls no place in it his home.

    A whole world sprawls out. Touched by their presence. It's almost too much to take in.

    It's several seconds after the vision fades before Setsuko finally stirs from her stillness. She listens silently, turning to look back and forth between those who speak, before finally speaking up herself. "I can't speak to what the people of this world might need. I believe that learning about them and their trials is important. But... I can say what this world itself needs, with just a glance. The answer is 'time'."

    She rests her hand lightly on Zanjintou's sheath at her side. "I don't know how we'll do it or what effect it will have, but we'll eventually need to restore time's flow. The stagnation is choking this world to death."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    Any harkening back to The Sergeant immediately makes Kyra wary, which is why she observes the room filled with people dressed as him with some unease. She doesn't know what to make of the blatant disrespect of some kind of holy text. Vague disapproval on her end? She's not sure. But...

    The pupils of her green eyes shrink suddenly, a clear reaction of shock at the following vision. Blinking, she shakes her head, then looks away. By the time she looks back, the Rampart has been presented and relief follows. Strange, they all reminded her so much of Sir Gawain. He wasn't here with them now but...maybe somehow, somewhere...

    "...chemists?" Kyra suddenly says with surprise. "Hey Riva-" she starts poking her friend, excited by this, "Hey, look at that, chemists. I so bet that came from me."

Auron (236) has posed:
    The Tinkers and the Valiants... opposite sides of a conflict perhaps? Auron can't tell. Many of the things he's seen, he figures, would require context, and he doesn't know many of the people who contributed to the world enough to be able to draw it. The Rampart, worn yet still standing against the ruin of stopped time. The scent of tradition brings mixed feelings. The Luminaries in their machina/magical wagon draws a smile of whimsy.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    More visions, none of which resonate as strongly as The Sergeant. Clearly, the involvement of others... but whose? And what does it say about them? Without his body reacting so violently, Eryl is able to save the visions he is having to his implants. Asking the populace might help in locating each one.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber casts a worried look over at Eryl when he dabs his face with the hankerchief, "Are you alright, Eryl? I know the supernatural can give you... some problems." There's a look of genuine concern on his face as he inspects the cyborg man with his red gaze. He does answer, though, "Yeah. I got the visions. Places, people, things of interest. It seems there is much to do."

Riva Banari has posed:
Riva chuckles. "That's not something to worry too much about, Beli! All we have to do is enter the world, and then just go in whatever direction seems interesting! We'll hit all the fun places eventually!" She turns and pats Kyra on the shoulder. "Soon, Kyra! We'll dive right in soon!" She chuckles again at the poke. "Only one way to find out, right? Who knows?"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The next time the mists rejoin in perceptible form, they cast a view on a bed of clouds frozen in motion. They lay far, far to the West, above a ruined city that has long since been abandoned to monsters, but that still lies within range of the Great Tower's view. Seated atop these clouds is an angel of fair feature, her skin smooth and immaculate, her eyes stained a deep fuchsia. Her eyes are cast low to her aerie such that she cannot see the desolate world below, and tears stream down her cheeks, burning holes into the clouds as though they were formed of acid. She draws her wings close around her body for warmth, or failing that, for comfort, as her eyes squeeze shut in a truly heartbreaking display of anguish. It is some time before she takes to the sky again, soaring away at the highest plausible speed, glittering flecks tracing behind her as she flees.

    She is The Mourner, the lone angel who has chosen to stay with humanity through its ordeal.

    Finally, the next vision settles upon the skies above a Romanesque Ruin -- something that might well have been a college forum in centuries past. The image gradually zooms until it settles upon a lone man, his left foot balanced on a half-collapsed marble wall, his hand cupped around a cigar as he lights it with a magically conjured flame. He holds it to his lips whilst he runs fingers through pitch, raven-hued hair, tossing it aside only moments later so that he may hide his hands in the pockets of a trench coat. The scene completes with him walking away quietly, his expression utterly illegible, his eyes likewise concealed by a pair of sunglasses that utterly obfuscate any stories they may have to tell.

    This man is The Wanderer. He could be no other.

    It seems at last that the visions have completed, and that the world has made its reply to the group's appearance. As such, one more vision is unleashed upon their senses. This one does not focus on any particular part nor person of the world, however, but rather glides over it holistically. It shows every hill, every contour, every village, and every lake in vivid detail; it almost seems to brand a map of the universe on to their eyelids such that, each time they close their eyes, they would see its resonant silhouette. Not only this, but it would seem that some knowledge of the state of things has been imparted upon them as well. All this information come together would present itself just so:

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Omelas - <A Quiet World> (Location #34)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Forticine. Levacine.

Heliocine and Metacine.

Casucine, Insolicine.

Sonucine.

These are the seven virtues that were once venerated in this world. One
might argue that they still are, but their meaning has changed: where once
they were fruits of one's spirit, they have decayed to become tools of the
theocracy, slogans by which people are corralled and controlled. Indeed, in
the wake of the stoppage of time it seems that the Holy Varsal's edicts
have eclipsed everything -- love, family, integrity, even need itself.
Everything. People are desperate for a return to normalcy as they have been
for the past fifteen years, and in their eyes the Archbishop is the only
voice that remains to guide them. This has given him, and his bishops, near
unlimited control over the cities and peoples of Omelas.

Yet let it never be said that the human penchant for rebellion and
individuality is not as tenacious a thing as their avarice. Some ten years
ago, an alternative appeared in the wake of a successful revolt in the
Westernmost provinces of the theocracy: The Watchtower. Comprising about
twenty percent of the world's population to the Varsal's sixty, it can at
times seem a modest and disorganized enclave to the untrained eye. One need
only see the mighty turbines and gear-clad towers that churn inside their
cities' walls, however, to understand that their might is not in size, but
in knowledge; their technology has in the span of mere decade grown at
least fifty years past that of the theocracy's finest. Though this has not
yet given them such an edge that they have been able to overtake them
definitively, The Watchtower has nevertheless set out on a campaign that
has instigated perpetual battles at their borders. These feuds wage even
now.

Though far less populated than its larger brethren, there still exists
a third bastion for the sentient creatures of this universe: Exodus. A
small collection of what could only be called city-states governed by a
federal oligarchy, The Consortium of Hands, grants solace to the monsters
of the world who are not welcome in human society. Though lacking the
military might to do away with either the Holy Varsal or The Watchtower,
they see no need to intervene; rather, they bide their time, awaiting the
day when humans will simply eradicate themselves. Monsters are the future,
they feel, and in the wake of mankind's disappearance they will be the
world's new masters.

Regardless of their backgrounds, however, all occupants of the world
must cope with many of the same issues. The most prominent of these is the
immutable truth that time has stopped. On that day when God departed, it
was a brisk afternoon in fall where the sun was on the cusp of setting.
That sun never fell, and it has remained suspended in that exact position
for fifteen years. Likewise, all non-human animals ceased to move -- people
awoke to find their pet dogs and cats as statues, and rain droplets paused
hither and thither in the air. Only humans, it seemed, were spared the
abrupt end of chronology. Much to the horror of mothers, however, they soon
found that any children born into this twisted world would emerge as
something terribly wrong. These corruptions of the human form are the only
other creatures able to live in this universe: the aforementioned
'monsters'. Amid all this horror, the knowledge that people would no longer
need food, nor water, nor death was little consolation.

At the present rate of things, The Consortium's prognostications grow
more real by the day. Humankind may one day exhaust itself, and then Omelas
would truly fall silent.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contents Exits
Arthur Lowell <God Tier> <#37> Exodus
Auron <Normal> <#36> Kallipolis
Beli Klum <Standard> <#0> Outskirts
Eryl Fairfax <Suit With Cape> <#38> The Collapse
Kimiko Shinobu <#35> The Holy Varsal
Konoe Kanno
Kotone Yamakawa <Normal>
Kyra Hyral
Marisa Kirisame
Mizuki <Dream Witch>
Na`Sabal-Une Fang <Sweater Nasa>
Priscilla <Mortal Guise>
Psyber <Demon Hunter>
Rebecca Chambers <Normal>
Riva Banari <Casual>
Setsuko Kaminagi <Zanjintou>
Staren <Boy Genius>
Theo Morrison <Casual>
Volund <Rawr>

Staren has posed:
    More visions come...

    An angel. She is so sad. There is probably a lot of sadness in this world. And... the wanderer. He seems familiar somehow. Like a misplaced elite, already here before them...

    It all comes together: There was a god, who left. Staren sighs. And then, time stopped in a very peculiar way. Interesting...

    Clearly, unraveling this mystery will be key to their quest.

    An outdated theocracy clinging to the past. A faction of engineers reaching for the future... And yet, neither can get along with monsters, except in The Truce. Hmm.

    It feels like a puzzle where the pieces don't quite fit together, because they're missing a few. Staren supposes they'll have to find them...

Beli Klum (238) has posed:
    Each vision strikes Beli with a deep impact, her sympathetic soul being pushed by every sight and sound shown to her. After the tumultuous chaos of the earlier events, it's more than a little jarring: The Sergeant's fury, The Truce's placidity, The Shrine's mystery, The Vale's silence, The Merrymen's joy, The Mirror Forest's eerieness, The Wanderer's solitude...

    ...and yet the agonizing tears of The Mourner stab into Beli's heart nearly enough to inspire the same. Familiar, certainly, but it's not something she expected to see or have /others/ see. She seems to forget to breathe for a second, and her hand lifts to settle over her mouth as if to conceal her reaction from the others.

    Is this what the Masked Woman meant when she was taking their items from the outside? Is this the effect she's had on the world...?

    The feeling of intense guilt that settles over the rephaite pushes away her sympathetic sorrow as she regains her composure. That guilt is enough to harden her a little and let her hand fall from her lips, though it can't seem to leave her once peaceful expression after that.

Auron (236) has posed:
    A mourning angel and a wandering man are the last to form. The angel fairly radiates sorrow, and it pulls his brow into a frown. He can understand why, if she's been here the whole time. The Wanderer is as mysterious as the rest of the world, and draws a quizzical look/expression/thought from Auron. Whichever seems more appropriate.

    What impact might these people have on the world? Where did they come from? What's their place? These are questions that can be answered later. For now, Auron continues to watch as the last vestiges of the new world form, still frozen in time. Perhaps that's what those from outside are supposed to change?

Riva Banari has posed:
The welter of sensations and images that assault Riva seem to transfix her, keeping her still as important things filter back through that deep, intimate connection between creator and created...

But are they the creators of this world, or assistants?

Riva's expression is one of mixed emotion. Always one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but there is so... /much/ here... Riva flumps down, sitting as she tries to assimilate it all and remember everything.

"I wonder..." Riva ponders aloud, before trailing off.

Still, she eventually looks back up and watches the grand overview of the land they will be investigating, meddling, and otherwise causing trouble with.

"This is going to be awesome."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    More pieces. All throughout, Kyra watches, still half-clinging to Riva, still recording. Her gaze lingers on the angel for a long time, intrigued as she always was by angelic beings. No doubt her classmates would be equally so.It is a shame that the camera could only record the sights and not the impressions that Kyra is feeling from the whole process.

    "This is the world we made...?" she questions, "So...um...why's it kind of /broken/?" There's no reason to not put that bluntly, glancing downward as Riva plops to the ground, "Is that the weight of our combined, uh, flaws or something? Well, maybe not, that might make it worse. Like. Unstable..." It never occured to her before that if it drew from all of them, it might draw something unpleasantly unpredictable from her. But in this case...

Riva Banari has posed:
"It if was working right, why would we be needed to fix it?" Riva simply replies to Kyra. "That's the main challenge we're probably here to figure out."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki glances to Kyra, clearing her throat in an effort to get her attention. "As I am able to understand," She says, "there was a world prior to this that we are using as a template of sorts. We were the catalysts for that world to be reborn as it has been, but we have only edited ever-so-gently. It still reflects the flaws and strengths of those who have come, yet those reflections are more... subtle. The rest of this world stands alone. This world and its people are - or at the least, were - individual, living, and breathing entities at one point in time." She folds her arms neatly behind her back now, fixing her gaze on the tower still in the distance.

    "That is a part of the reason we are here, after all. To 'save' them, if such a thing is feasible."

Staren has posed:
    Staren nods at Mizuki's explanation. "Right! So..." he rubs his hands together. "How shall we get started?"

Konoe Kanno (847) has posed:
     So many things happening, and then it's over.

     This is it.

     This is the world they made.

     "......"

     Konoe tilted her head aside the other way, feeling a vague sense of disappointment. It seemed kind of...inadequate? Is that the right way to put it? But then again, a world created from whatever they had contributed surely wouldn't be some kind of paradise. But still...

     "What do we need to do?" That was the question of the hour. "Do we...go down there and help them?" It sounded kind of presumptuous to her. To think they would go forth and 'save' people and things. But that was the most immediate way of thinking about it.

Kimiko Shinobu (570) has posed:
    Throughout this, Kimiko has remained quiet, simply standing--or in any case, being--by Setsuko's side, and observing. Watching, remembering, and... anything else, is not visible. Those who know her may guess, but otherwise, it is difficult to tell what is not spoken.

    To Mizuki, she turns her head. "Yes. If we can, then we will." Half to Kyra, "We would not be needed here, otherwise."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki looks to Konoe and Staren next. "I believe the Masked One will explain all of this to us in due time. Alas, though, there is no particular need to go rushing off. We may be better advised to reflect on what we have learned and return at a later date."

Riva Banari has posed:
"I think the first thing we need to do is go down and start learning about this world." Riva comments. She snugs Kyra again, and stands back up. "Wouldn't you guys agree? We need to meet people, do things, figure out who is who and what is what. Experience what life people have in this world, and maybe find ways to make it a better place for them in our own ways."

She chuckles. "The time to be gods is over. Now it's the time to be people."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Many things wash over Psyber, many different visions and realizations of the world around him, of the world being formed around him, and the impact people have had upon it. But his face betrays little emotion about the whole thing. If there's one thing the half-angel has become carefully proficient at, it's the hiding of all emotion.

    The unthematic music in his ears helps with this. In fact, he even murmurs under his voice, "...backpack's got jets..." In a sing-song tone. He rocks on his feet. If Setsuko was weirded out by seeing him listen to music earlier, he's not surprised. He's been notably more upbeat in the past month or so, even before Nathan's issues were resolved.

    But one thing catches his eyes. He tilts his head at the vision of The Wanderer. The flat look on his face cracks into a very faint grin as he sees him conjure flame from his hand. Psyber's own right hand curls into a faint fist in reaction. He lets out a soft 'tsk' noise and makes a mental note to investigate him.

    "This will be an interesting world to investigate."

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa more visions a angel crying for the state of the world and all those who suffer within in it. She takes a moment to let it all sink in she shakes her head for a moment.

"I agree Riva... we need to leanr about this world before we go to do anything else...there and maybe so Riva, maybe so."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "/Oh/. So the world was already sort of there, we just...jump-started it a little with pieces of ourselves." Kyra concludes, her thoughts drifting back to the items they shared and the lights that escaped each one of them.

    She grins over at Riva, "Well in /that/ case..." Kyra rubs her hands together. She saw the world recreated. She saw this 'Varsal' hold people to their will. More importantly, she saw opportunity for rebellion. She speaks aloud, half to Riva, half to Kimiko, "I can't wait to get started~"

    Ominous?

Beli Klum (238) has posed:
    Beli looks to Riva and, after a moment, offers a soft nod. "...yes. Of course, blending in may be difficult, but...I guess interacting with those in this place will be the only way, at this point, that we can learn anything about it. And, more importantly, resolve whatever struggles they face."

    She frowns softly, considering. "...where to /start/ is another matter, when we have a whole world ahead of us..."

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    And then, it's over.

    Eryl fishes a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at his face with it. "That was... something. Just to clarify, did everyone experience visions also? Of places and... people?" He then begins to rattle off what he saw in detail, looking to everyone to gauge their reactions.

    And now the eternal question; 'what now?' Eryl already has some answers for that. "We must familiarize ourselves with this world. People, politics, factions, dangers and opportunities. All we know for now is that time has apparently stopped. Finding out why is the first step."

    He carries on, pacing back and forward... it's oddly familiar. "We must excel at this test. The lives of millions depend on us. Leave no stone unturned. Starting with the things we saw would be a good start. From what we have heard, this place has experienced a time loop up until we arrived. What we saw must be what we caused. Differences, divergences. Places where we may be able to unravel that loop."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Just as the channel to the visions seems ready to close, however, the minds of anyone susceptible would be flooded suddenly with static. At once peoples' minds are assaulted by both the visual of television static and the nauseating noise that accompanies it without fail. After several moments of this, the visual shatters like glass, revealing someone familiar levitating beside the Masked Woman, before the backdrop of the newly-born world. She seems both familiar and unfamiliar, both near and far away. She has the same black hair, the same crimson eyes, and the same stiffened posture as ever.

    It's Mizuki. But it also is not.

    She regards the group with eyes that seem somehow void of feeling, an expression that seems entirely muted. Seeing this reflection of her, so similar yet so completely dissonant, would surely be disorienting for anyone acquainted with the true Mizuki. She drinks in a deep, deep breath, closing her eyes a moment before opening them again when she sees fit to speak.

    "... please," She says, her voice imploring, pleading. "Please, for once... allow me to have this world without argument. I can save them. I have the power to override reality, to free them -- from the bonds of the physical world and their dismal predicament alike." She sighs, shaking her head. "This is useless, though, isn't it? My way is the way of the villain. To wish an unending, happy dream upon them is to condemn them, to infringe upon their 'free will'. No, be still your tongues. I've heard it all before, and we've no need to go through all of this misery again." She turns away from the group, facing the collapsed tower in the distance. "Since I've no choice," She says, "I'll play this game. I must. I have no quarrel with you, but I will not see them saved by you, only to trap themselves anew in the future. I will never yield to your blind faith in the human spirit; it has slighted me one too many times. Just as you," She says, canting her head back at them, "continue to disappoint me."

    Then Mizuki's doppelganger departs just as soon as she had arrived. The Masked Woman turns back to the group as if ready to say something, but Mizuki holds up a flattened palm. "I believe that was my contribution," She says. "And I offer all due apology for her in advance."

    "But," She continues, her voice only somewhat shaken for the ordeal of her clone's appearance, "I believe that was all of these 'contributions', yes?" At that question, the Masked Woman gives a nod. "Yeah," Responds the latter, tone suddenly far more relaxed, posture beginning to slouch. Her hands even meander behind her to cradle her head. "And thank the fucking Lord for it. I swear, if I had to talk all stiff and proper like that for another second I was gonna freakin' puke out my eyes." With that remark, Mizuki's own eyes go rather wide. "... th-thank you kindly for that mental image, Masked One." The latter waves a dismissive hand. "Don't mention it."

    "And oh," The Masked Woman goes on, "you guys can leave whenever you want now. I mean, unless you want to start exploring right away, but I get the feeling just watching the big ol' cosmological opera here was probably pretty tiring on its own. I mean, you know how long road trips can make you tired even though all you're doing is sitting in a car on your ass for a few hours? Yeah, it's like that. Just a lot more, uh. 'World Creationy'? ... sure, that sounds about right."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Though it isn't long before the masked woman's posture stiffens again, this time in a rather sudden revelation. "Waaait wait wait," She calls, "there's one more thing I'm forgetting here." She claps her hands twice, the sound only slightly muffled by the gloves she wears. In an instant the objects that had departed earlier dart back to her side, albeit lacking the golden auras they were cloaked in some time prior. "You can have these back now," She says. "I've got no reason to keep 'em, and I know they had, uh. Sentimental value to some of you or whatever? So yeah." The objects float to their respective owners of their own volition over time so that they don't have to go searching. Meanwhile, the Masked Woman rubs at the base of her neck. "Heh... sorry 'bout that. Wasn't trying to steal them from you or anything, honest!"

Rebecca Chambers has posed:
    Rebecca's seemingly fallen into a trance with all that has been shown and whatnot. Now that it all seems to have ended, she collapses to one knee a little, almost like her body has been mentally overwhelmed. After a few deep breaths, she finally pushes herself back up. "All right, I'm sure we all saw that," She says. "But, what should we do next? Is there some kind of plan of action we should be making?"

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone watches eceyrhting else play out and the (The Luminaries get her attention she's curious about them and wishes to know more but first it will be as Riva has said she has to go learn more about the world she would have much to lean but as Mizuki speaks up and she's silent she says nothing. She turns her head to the masked woman and nods.

"I understand you should have your rest and we need to think about what to do next."

Auron (236) has posed:
    The not-Mizuki's sudden appearance, monologue, and disappearance gets a raise of Auron's visible eye. "Hmf." That's about all he has to say on the subject. He's heard /that/ tune before, too. And it brings back unpleasant memories of Yunalesca and her insistence that the Final Aeon was the only 'hope' Spira had.

    Anyway. His sphere is returned, and he nods once to the Masked Woman. "Thank you," he says, tucking the sphere in his coat. He remains quiet for questions. There are a lot of people here, and listening is paramount right now.

Kimiko Shinobu (570) has posed:
    Kimiko's opinion on happy dream worlds should not need mentioning. In any case, she won't be. A level stare is all she gives.

Staren has posed:
    And then, static! Staren holds his hands over his ears and shakes his head. Freaking bees... wait, no, this is something else...

    "Is that Shiori? But why'd she let us in...?" he can only growl in annoyance as whoever it is seems set upon their way, whatever it is.

    Then Mizuki explains that it must be her contribution. Oh. He gives her a look of... pity? And places his hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. I don't think we exactly got to... choose..."

    He looks to the masked woman and the little girl. "Oh, um... you can keep the videogames and communicator... I have plenty."

    Staren shrugs. "I'm up for exploring this world immediately. But... I probably shouldn't do it alone, if folks aren't up for it. I'd be a terrible ambassador..." He blinks, as another thought comes to his mind, and turns to the masked woman, holding up hands to his ears. "Hey, um, is not being human... how's that gonna work out here? Do we become humans when we enter the world, or are we seen as monsters, or what?"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman brushes her hands together and heaves a mighty sigh, clearly glad to be done with her 'performance'. Still, people are bound to have plenty of questions, and the first of these comes from Rebecca. The Masked Woman turns to face her, laying a hand on her hip. Conversationally. "So uh," She glances to Riva, "she kinda has the right idea. Thing is, this world is set up in a way where it will deliberately try to put you on the right track no matter what you do. So you can go anywhere, anywhere you want, and you'll eventually meet the right people, see the things you need to see. It may be a world, but it's still a book. And that's just the way books work, man." After a bit of a pause, though, she adds, "But, yo. You want -my- suggestion? Go to that little town over there," She gestures to the city nearest the group's viewpoint. "It's called Eridine. That's the closest place, so naturally, it's probably a p-good starting point."

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    There is simple, defiant silence from Setsuko for the most part, when they're faced with Mizuki's 'contribution'. She simply stares, her expression grown stern. However, just before the 'villain' of this world departs, the demigod speaks up in a simple voice.

    "I would hardly call it fair that you spare yourself our speeches, then subject us to one of your own. In fact, there's a word for it. Use your imagination."

    Then she is gone, and Setsuko is left with the real Mizuki, her allies, and... her chopsticks. Oh. Right. She reaches out to take the small case, and then pockets it. "Some time soon, I want to visit the Rampart." She pauses, as if that's not right, and then adds, "...no, I think I need to. If I'm going to understand this world, it will be the place where I learn it best." At that she turns to glance in Psyber's direction, wearing an expression that's somewhat rare for her - one of quiet, simple request. She'd like to make that their first stop, and he's one of the prime authority figures here.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    Eryl looks to Psyber, and offers a weak smile as he tucks that handkerchief away. "Oh, fine. It starts to clear up right away once the event in question has stopped." And then another one starts because of course it does. Eryl puts the heels of his palms to his temples as the Mizuki who is not Mizuki appears from the hissing nothingness.

    rue to his word, Eryl is back to normal after a short moment (though the fact that she's floating is not good). He goes to interject, but she's clearly not in the mood to argue, only to rant. So his tongue is still until she disappears. "Well, it's good to know that our contributions do not behave entirely the same as we do. Because yours was terribly rude," he says to Mizuki with a small, mirthful smile, trying to inject some humour into a sore situation.

    The tie is gratefully received! Eryl unpins the medal to get the cape off. Turns out, he hadn't replaced it until now. Some might notice some kind of pendant around his neck which is carefully moved aside so he can put the tie back on.

    Questions, questions... "Ah yes, I wanted to ask you and the young lady something," the diplomat says, addressing the two hosts. "What happens to you after we complete the test? Would you pass on with the souls, should that be how this ends?"

Konoe Kanno (847) has posed:
     "......"

     Silence was Konoe's overall answer in the end. Silence and a faint sigh. She had nothing to say. She'd seen what the world wanted to show them. For now, she was going to think on all that had transpired. No need to go rushing in yet, according to Mizuki. And to be honest, she wasn't quite raring to go barreling into this place at the drop of a hat just yet.

     The appearance of Mizuki's doppleganger draws a vaguely surprised look upon Konoe's features. She'd never seen the girl like that before. Utterly emotionless. And then she began speaking. Something about saving this world? Denial of the human spirit? ...It was strange. Some part of her was still unsure of what this 'human spirit' was herself, despite having it explained. But that was a matter for another time.

     With the departure of 'Mizuki', Konoe looked towards the real one. "...." That was never not going to be weird.

     Once given the okay to leave, Konoe took one last look at the world, and then nodded. With that, she turned and began to head off without another word, if able. No need for speeches or pleasantries, is what she thought in her mind. She wasn't good at that anyhow.

     Anything else, she'd work out in time.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber nods his head to Eryl and says, "If Regenesis allows it, you should see about getting an examination from Ellestaria. She's a bionatural and supernatural support specialist and researcher. I'm sure she might have some insight. I doubt she can fix it, but she might make it more tolerable," He suggests to the man with the rubbing of the back of his own head, "I just hate seeing it eat at you like that."

    The answer Psyber gives Setsuko is fairly benign. When she gives him a quiet look of request, he lifts his hand and waves it a bit idly. It may seem dismissive, but to people who actually know him, it's easily recognizable as the Psyber Standard Gesture: 'I have no objection, do as you see fit'.

    "I may try to track down The Wanderer. Or research into the local world structure."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Mizuki briefly glances to Setsuko as she responds to Shiori. It's subtle, but does she... wince? Perhaps she does, faintly. She's quick to hide her face thereafter, though, in flustered attempt to conceal the gesture from prying eyes.

Beli Klum (238) has posed:
    If the rest of this has been shocking, then the Nega-Mizuki that appears is particularly jarring for Beli. Seeing that person who most definitely is /not/ Mizuki, yet close enough to be mistaken at a glance. Is this what the Masked Woman told her about in their last meeting?

    Beli can't seem to find words, but the displeased stare she levels at the girl speaks more clearly than she can.

    The doppelganger is gone, and the rephaite sighs, lifting a hand to rub at her face. She finds herself at a loss for words still; this whole thing is still far more than she expected, though how could she have expected much at all from the creation of a world? One which, it seems, everyone has brought something of their own into, whether or not they intended to.

    "...I appreciate your patience," she remarks softly to the Masked Woman, far too distracted to register the contrasting vulgarity of the woman. There's a brief huff of air, but Beli doesn't speak much more after that. She'll listen, certainly, but she's trapped in her thoughts after everything she's just seen. Too many thoughts, and not really enough words to voice them.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Eryl speaks. Mizuki faces him with a smile, but the moment the subject of Shiori comes up, she winces once more. Something about her smile... shifts, contorts in a manner almost sickly. After several bats of her eyelashes, though, it may as well have never been on her countenance at all. "Yes," Mizuki says, "she was rather." She has nothing to say beyond this.

    Then the little one is addressed! She seems excited at first, but once the inquiry is lain out in full, her expression gradually dips. It dips until her eyes are cast to the floor and she's soundlessly muttering an unintelligible reply. The Masked Woman comes to her aid, here, laying a hand on her shoulder and facing Eryl in her stead. She accepts her help with a few sniffles and a nearly tearful smile.

    "We're just phantoms," She says. "Never alive to begin with. When everything's over, we'll disappear. 'Fraid that's just the way it is."

Riva Banari has posed:
Just when everything is open and bright, when thigns are rolling outwards and promising infinite possibility...

That is when they have to come. It was an inevitability. And for someone like Mizuki, narrative impetus is perfectly enough for it to force the issue then and there. When the static strikes, Riva looks up, shocked at the unusual reflection. Something in it causes her jaw to tighten and put her on the defensive, the hair on her neck standing up.

As requested, for now, Riva says nothing in response as the being floats away... And she then turns to give a worried look at Mizuki for several moments. "That... was an example of what we should be expecting elsewhere, isn't it?" Riva relaxes slightly, fidgeting. "I wonder..."

She sighs, then, closing her eyes for a moment. This gives the bracelet time to bop her in the head. "Meep! Ack, again!" She says, and she snatches it out of the air. "It's not a big deal, though." She replies to M. "This was just a little something I got recently to... remind me of something." She says obliquely, before slipping it back on. "I guess the memories are important too, huh?" She smiles for a moment, before turning to look back to the others. "I guess we should get any questions we have out of the way before we jump in headfirst. For all we know, it might be a while before we see our friends here again."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman runs a hand across her fa -- that is, her facade. Once she has taken a moment to calm herself, she looks to Psyber. "If you're lookin' for the wanderer, I can help ya there." The Masked Woman reaches into her pocket, pulling out a compass, clad in gold, and lightly tossing it Psyber's way. "The needle on that thing always points to him, so that will probably be easier than you were expecting."

Staren has posed:
    Staren then turns to the masked woman. "Come on, after all you know about us, you think we're just gonna let you fade away? Maybe we won't be able to do anything... but the whole idea of us being here is to see if we can do something even Shiori couldn't accomplish, right? So... at the risk of holding out cruel hope... Know at least that we /want/ to save you." Staren looks back to Mizuki. "Hey, is there any chance they can like, go live with you after this is all over?"

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    Mizuki's fallen face... okay, don't joke about that. Don't even bring it up ever again. And now the young lady and the Masked Woman too. He is just making all the girls upset today, isn't he? He looks at the two and only says, "We shall see what we can do." No point in making promises until they know more, right?

    Finally, he looks to Psyber, and manages a wan smile. "We shall see if I can fit in an appointment then. But save your pity for this world, for it needs it far more than I." He goes silent after thing, casting his mind back to their first visit. The things he said, about how everyone must not let their fears of what their contributions say about them hold back the mission...

    "Everyone." He looks to the group. "Due to a strong physical reaction to the vision, I suspect that The Sergeant is what I have added to this world. So I would like to meet him." A look to their hosts, and a smile, both polite and apologetic. "Do you have any hints to offer?"

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "I had a strong reaction to that guy too, actually, but only because I /despise/ people like that." Kyra notes. "But personally, I kind of want to meet these Watchtower guys. I kind of like how they think." Her thoughts drift to the white-haired man, burning pages of the book, "Not sure about the Varsal. They're too..." she makes a face, "...familiar for my tastes."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    In response to Riva, Mizuki gives something of a small, guilty smile. She locks her left hand around her opposite wrist, inching closer to the woman.

    She gives no verbal response, however.

Theo Morrison has posed:
Theo has mostly been silent and observing while the whole of the world is... created? Rediscovered? He has a couple of questions about where it fits in that sort of scheme of things. He grunts, making the first sound he's made in a while when the static and nega-Mizuki (Ikuzim??) shows up. There's an exchange, and... they can go?

First thing's first, though.

Theo finds a place to sit, settling cross-legged wherever there's room and unslinging his pack. He opens it up and fishes around in it, eventually finding what he needs: a sketchpad and a pencil. He starts to fill white-space with a fervor, making notes and sketches about the myriad things that he saw, heard and felt before the sharpness of their recollection fades away.

"There's probably a way to keep you around," he mumbles. "All we gotta do is get clever about it. Hmmm..." The planeswalker looks up a little. "I've probably got something... but I'm busy /now/, so..." Theo points off to his side with his pencil. He says, "Myr Servitor," in a way that's more a mystical intonation than a remark.

Nothing happens.

A couple seconds later, Theo looks up again, positively puzzled.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman stares - or seems to, anyway - at Staren for a long several seconds. Eventually she gives a long, long sigh, putting up her hands in a shrugging gesture. "Y'know," She starts, "here's where I would wanna say some melodramatic shit, like, 'save the little girl, just leave me, I'm not worth it', but I'm guessing that if you found a way to save one of us you'd save us both. So sure, if you can actually crack that one, go for it. I wouldn't mind living a couple extra centuries, if I had the option."

    Then, back to Mizuki. The woman, still looking ever so slightly vulnerable, responds to Staren with a soft nod. "Of course," She says. "They are always welcome."

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
The Luminaries have got Kotone's attention she was curious about them she looked over to the Masked Woman for a moment.

"I'm curious about the The Luminaries and would like to try to find them when I get a chance how might I do this or would it be bust to just swearch on my own?"

She pauses looking at Theo for a moment puzzeled as he was, where was the Myr Servitor?

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman and her younger compatriot both look to Eryl. The Masked Woman raises her hands in a gesture that would suggest her preparation to deliver a response, but the little one pre-empts this deliverance with a quick tug on her robe. The Masked Woman thereafter yields the explanation to her, giving her a quick pat on the head in support. "He's in the capital city of the Holy Varsal," She says. "And they don't let just anyone in there. There are biological tests to get in, to make sure you aren't monsters. And even then you have to pay to get a pass, in local currency. So... so I don't know if you'll get to go there right away. Sorry."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman turns to face Kyra. "Oh-ho," She says, "like the Watchtower, huh? Yeah, they're pretty neat. I mean, some of those guys are pretty creepy, but there are gonna be creeps no matter where you go, right? So just be careful, and you'll probably be okay. Probably."

Staren has posed:
    Staren nods to the masked woman. "Of course." Then he turns and gives Theo a quizzical look. "You can't summon minions here? Huh... Better check if your cards still work before we get into a fight..." Staren scratches his chin. "Guess we'll need to go over everything and see what works here and what doesn't." Staren looks at Kotone, then at the masked woman. "I'm not sure what my contribution is... The Truce and The Luminaries both felt right, you know?"

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    Eryl kneels down to smile at the young girl. "Thank you very much." Back to his feet, and look to Kyra. "Well, I apologize that my contribution is not to your tastes Miss Hyral," he says with a grin on his face. Clearly joking.

    "I am not getting to mine any time soon, barring some kind of infiltration. Which I would rather not do, it would be hard to help them if they are so suspicious of us," he says. "So, if people do not mind, I will attempt to help in any other way I can. If you are planning an excursion, do let me know if my services would be of use."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman wags a finger almost teasingly at Theo. "Ah-ah," She says. "You've gotta find your Virtue before you can draw magic from this world. See, God in this world is the source of all magic. It's not really ambient like it is in most places, so you have to either speak God's language to use it, or... well, or steal it from him manually. You'll figure one or the other eventually. Probably."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Yeah, they seemed cool." Kyra loops an arm around Riva's, "I'm not afraid of creeps. Not when I've got Riva around to watch my back!" Plus a Servant if things got /really/ bad. "Pfff, oh, Eryl, clearly you need to be more considerate when contributing to the re-creation of a world!" She wags a finger at him, clearly kidding. She pauses, "Hey wait a second..."

    She turns to the Masked Woman, "What do you mean by Virtue?"

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    Virtue? That's a new one. Setsuko turns her head slightly, curiosity in her eyes as well.

Staren has posed:
    Staren blinks. "Gotta find our Virtue? I would guess Logic or Compassion for me, but... I guess it doesn't matter too much for me, as long as items still work." Staren glances at Theo. "I'd offer you guns, but if you end up in a fight having to use one, things have gone horribly wrong, right?"

Riva Banari has posed:
"I bet it's not Patience~" Riva calls from the sidelines. It's clear she's just joking, though.

Theo Morrison has posed:
"It doesn't look like it's..." Theo glances between Staren and Kotone, and then trails off. His expression sours when he gets told about God and the source of magic and Virtues and the like. "Oh. Great. I don't suppose you've got a linguistic primer on 'deity'?" The Virtue question already got asked, anyway.

He glances at Staren. "Pretty much. I've still got some stuff from the frog place, and a couple artifacts out of Ravnica, too, but..." Theo looks seriously bothered by the limitation. You can almost see the wheels turning as he starts to try and find a way around it.

Staren has posed:
    Staren's ears flick and he laughs at Riva's comment. "That's for sure!"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman looks at Kyra, clicks her cheeks, and points fingerguns at her. "Now /that/," She begins, "is definitely the right question to be asking right now. I mean you probably could have asked any idiot in the world down there about them and they could give you a pretty decent explanation, but I think I have a better idea of what you guys, specifically, would wanna know about 'em. So here we go." She clears her throat. "The Virtues are the seven main tenets of the Holy Varsal, kinda like the 'Heart of Benevolence' or whatever in Mencius. In fact, some dudes call them the 'Seven Hearts' instead of the 'Seven Virtues'. I'm kinda having trouble remembering off the top of my head, but I think the main ones you guys have to be worried about are Forticine, Levacine, Heliocine, Metacine, Casucine, Insolicine, and Sonucine. Now I know, I know, that sounds like gibberish, but these just don't translate into you-speak. You're gonna have to get acquainted with them eventually."

    "For now, though," She goes on, "they mean roughly these things, in order: Courage, Succor, Knowledge, Ambition, Curiosity, Novelty, and Justice. Everyone in this world has a virtue attached to their spirit, and finding those is the key to using magic. See, God is still up there somewhere, pumping out magical energy all the time. But he'll only give it to you if you appeal to one of the seven parts of humanity that he loves most. So the equivalent of 'channeling' here is literally getting in touch with your virtue, and more importantly, knowing what it is.

    "If you can't find a Virtue," She continues, "or you just don't want to, then you're gonna have to make a trip to the Watchtower. They sell devices there that'll let you take energy from God more directly by using scientific principles instead. So basically, pick a Virtue or go buy a Watchtower device thingy. Your choice."

Theo Morrison has posed:
Theo, while finding this really cool and being actually interested on a narrative and intellectual level, is presently insecure enough about his sudden and conspicuous lack of phenomenal cosmic power that all he manages to do is mutter a low, "Friggin'... /side-quests/," about the whole thing.

It'd probably be funnier to him if he didn't feel so suddenly naked.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "Or, hell," She throws in one last tidbit, "you could even just bring, I dunno. Do you have energizer batteries where you people come from. Yeah. Just bring along a few energizers pumped full of mana and you'll be good to go."

Staren has posed:
    Staren listens to this. He shakes his head slightly at the mention of Mencius. He has no clue what that is.

    "Hmm. I think... I think I can agree with a lot of those. I mean, they're all good things..." He shrugs with his hands held up slightly by his sides, "but I guess if they weren't, they wouldn't be 'virtues', huh? Well, alright. So, how exactly do we channel, can we just try each virtue and see which one works?" Staren scratches the back of his neck. "Not sure how I feel about relying on power from this god of theirs, but if I don't have to do anything I don't like in return, I guess it doesn't matter, and there's always devices as a fallback."

Setsuko Kaminagi (255) has posed:
    Seven virtues practiced by this world's people... and more importantly, coded into its very fabric. Courage, Ambition, Justice, all principles near to her family's philosophy. Setsuko considers silently for a moment. She'll have to look into that, too. "I would imagine that if it were that easy," she says in response to Staren, "It wouldn't be worth mentioning here. Getting in touch with the virtue one holds most strongly in one's heart is never easy."

    The swordswoman closes her eyes and takes a breath, then opens them again. "For now, I think I'll retire, and consider my plan of action. This is no small undertaking. It's probably the largest one I've faced yet." The operative word being 'yet'. She's fairly certain her own world's trials will rival it, but that's a ways off yet.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
    "Well clearly!" Kyra puts her hands on her hips, looking at the Masked Woman. She flinches, though, when she mentions that there are seven of them, which is, incidentally the same number of virtues that are common across the various Cosma sects on her world. She'll /really/ feel terrible if this turns out to be her contribution because she's still of the opinion that Cosma is a terrible thing to inflict on anyone.

    But the translation reveals different virtues entirely. Kyra relaxes. "Well, you're in luck, Staren. Patience ISN'T a virtue here. It is in Cosma, incidentally, but not /here/."

    She rubs her chin, "Which to pick though...multiple of those appeal to me."

Staren has posed:
    Staren looks at Kyra. "I'm not sure we /get/ to pick." he comments.

Kimiko Shinobu (570) has posed:
    Kimiko is curious about something that's basically covered by what Staren said. She has an idea of what virtue appeals most to her, but no knowledge of how to test this. And if Setsuko's reasoning is right, she can't just try it out. So she just stands there, tilts her head a bit to one side, and looks faintly puzzled.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman looks back to Kyra and Staren, pointing to the latter with a series of slow nods. "Kid's right, actually. Your Virtue chooses you. You've just gotta find it, and the only way you can really do that is by... experimenting. Check out the world for a while and see what stands out to you most. Then something will happen that will make you realize what your Virtue is. That's the only way it can really happen, though. Sorry."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber lifts his hand and makes a dismissive gesture towards the Masked Woman, "Pass. I don't wanna get involved in etho-magical politics, to be honest. I'll just do whatever I can without getting much involved in the magic or channeling parts of it," He notes with a slight yawn. He seems fairly casual with her, particularly because he's figured out who she is. He takes a cigarette out of his jacket and lights it, "But I'm more than happy to help however I can otherwise."

Staren has posed:
    Staren slips his hands back into his labcoat pockets and cocks his head at the Masked Woman. "Hmm. I don't like the idea of relying on powers that finnicky and vague. I guess I won't be enchanting new golems here... good thing I don't rely on magic for much."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman looks back at Psyber, arms folded at her chest. "I can dig it," She says. "Besides, I think you can handle yourself just fine without magic, right? Or you have as long as I've known you," She says. The words carry with them something like the hint of a smile -- her way of saying that she knows he knows. Something subtle in her voice might even suggest to him that she's happy about it. But if she is, why is she holding that information back, anyway?

    Maybe she's just weird. Or really coy. The latter seems as heriditary as things can get when it comes to Mizuki's world, after all.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
    Aha, the magic of this world! Eryl pays close attention to this, even though he feels as if it won't apply to him. But judging by that explanation... "So even those of us who are not typically capable of magic would be able to do something if they find their Virtue?"

    How very interesting... but of course, the first thing people do is start thinking of what fits them best. "Given that we are contributing to this world in ways that are not immediately obvious, do not assume that what you think would fit best is what you would get. Perhaps there are aspects of yourself you deny which best fir your Virtue."

    A glance at Psyber and Staren, and a slight frown. "Saving this world might depend on the Virtues. Do not dismiss them just because you are uninterested in them from a 'power' viewpoint. I myself do not use magic, but I plan to learn all I can about them. You never know what detail could be the key, especially since this is meant to be a test of our qualities."

Theo Morrison has posed:
Theo has, by this point, lapsed back into silence broken by the sound of a pencil on paper. It's hard to tell if it's thoughtful, sullen, or some mix of the two.

Kickotron is also silent, because he presently does not exist in this world. Lame.

Staren has posed:
    Staren blinks. "Wait, /do/ Virtues provide entirely new powers? Hmm... Probably best to look into those devices, then." He rolls his eyes and turns to Eryl. "Come on, this is /me/ you're talking about. Do you really think I'm the best person for dealing with powers like this? I work with stuff I can /analyze/. Me trying to use this instinctive feely stuff... it just sounds like a headache. For everyone, because do you really want to listen to me going all 'But HOW does that WORK?!'?" He flails his hands in the air for emphasis, then pockets them again. "There are other people who mesh with that kinda thing much better. Going 'Oh man, I am all /about/ Ambition, I bet it works for me!' seems like it'd be..." Staren shakes his head. "it wouldn't go well. Leave me to working out reality's rules and exploiting them, somebody else can take the emotional mystic stuff."

    Staren turns back to the masked woman. "Theo's got a problem, though. Would the Watchtower have a device that could restore use of his magic, or does he need to either figure out his virtue or we figure out how to cheat this whole set-up and get another way to use his powers?"

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Kotone Yamakawa pauses at the mention of virtues and being able to actually draw magic? That was something Kotone didn't expect given her world has the magical out put of a grain of sand. She's bene quits for the most part as she's been listening and thinking about a lot of what's going on here she pays close attention about the virtues though it is impornat and she knows. She thinks about what the Masked woman has said.

"So your saying their creator is still watching for some reason? Is this a test or did something else happen? Either way we should play by the local rules and figure out what our virtues are."

Staren has posed:
    Staren looks at Kotone. "Just by /being/ here we're breaking the rules. We're /already/ messing with the world, with our... 'contributions'. The only rules we might have any obligation to follow here are any Shiori set when she made the challenge, and I'm not sure sure about even /that/, as long as we can find a way to save these people."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman looks back at Staren. "They don't give you new powers," She says, "but they can amplify abilities you already have, whereas a device may weaken them depending on the circumstances. As for whether they have a device that can help your friend... actually, I dunno. You're gonna have to ask the dudes in Kallipolis about that. I was only given enough info to help you with the basics, not little things like that." After a bit of a pause, she suddenly says, "Oh, oh, and yeah. You probably guessed this, but Kallipolis is the Watchtower's Capital."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    The Masked Woman ponders Eryl's question a moment, resting a hand on her cheek. "Well this is where things get weird," She says. "The thing is, traditionally, people in this world would learn what their Virtues were before a certain age, and so them developing their abilities would naturally... go along with them getting their Virtue. Get it? They're supposed to go hand-in-hand, so you guys 'acquiring' them after the fact like this is really exceptional. To the people down there it's probably witchcraft or some shit."

    "So long story short?" She shrugs. "I don't even know, man. Maybe you can learn some new abilities by channeling a Virtue, or maybe not. Just, play around with them a little once you get them, I guess."