Scene #1096:

Owner	Pose
Quentyn Westwind	Now this, this is something. Quentyn stands right on one of the more sudden, jarring horizones-- where reality quickly transitions to virtual. He turns several times in several ways-- facing the digital world-- then the real-- then half-digital and half-real in his vision. As Quentyn does this, he sometimes taps the eraser end of a pencil against his chin. Then the boy jots down a lot (very enthusiastically at that) in a notebook he carries.
Jonothon Starsmore	There might be something that disturbs him out of his note-taking here, though. A sound that echoes oddly in the mostly-digital space. It's... an electric guitar? And it's not just arpeggios, either. That's a popular song from Earth's 'classic rock' era, played by the hands of someone who's been playing guitar for a number of years. Not only that there's a MASSIVE energy signature near here. It's hard to tell what kind, but psionic is a major part of it. If Quentyn can sense energy, he's probably going to feel a very sharp niggling sensation wherever he senses it. Otherwise, the sound of the guitar will lead him right to its source. It's... well, Jono. A thin, very nondescript-looking Caucasian fellow with brown hair and brown eyes. He's wearing a black shirt, black coat, black pants, and black boots. The only thing that's really unusual is that the lower part of his face is wrapped up tightly with black wrappings, from just under his nose down into his shirt. He's sitting with his legs folded under him, and there's an electric guitar in his lap, and an amplifier next to him. Where's it plugged in? Out here, who knows? Maybe he's stuck it the plug the ground and that's running it. Anyway, he is the one playing the guitar.
Quentyn Westwind	Unusual, perhaps, for certain cultures of a place called Earth some say they are from. Quentyn, not an Earthling and having seen a lot of strange things in the multiverse, not to mention clothing styles... Well, it's not something the teen pegs as unusual. Massive energy signatures, on the other hand... well, if it's the sort of thing a mage might sense, that will pique this mage's interest. Quentyn meanders in that direction until his bespectacled eyes come upon Jono himself. The source? A very powerful mage? The white mage cocks his head and listens to the music for a little bit, and takes down a few further notes in that notebook of his.
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono's not exactly the most perceptive guy in the Multiverse, so it takes him a few minutes to realize he's not alone. It's the scratch of the pencil that gets his attention. He stops playing in mid-note and looks up. "Oh, uh... hi." He sounds a little surprised. He shifts to stand up, reaching over to turn off the amplifier and then setting the guitar against it. Always turn it off first, feedback is painful.
Quentyn Westwind	A close observer would notice Quentyn startles a little himself. Just a slight slip of the pencil, followed by a flip around to the the eraser end to fix it, but it's there. The teen looks up, fiddles with his glasses for a second, and greets with a tentative smile. "Um, hi." Awkward pause, at least on Quentyn's part. He looks at the guitar and amplifier for a moment, but they don't hold his interest-- perhaps his world has something like it. "Umm... I'm Quentyn." Pause again, but his next question is as curious as it is cautiously tentative. "Are you a mage?"
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono winces a little when he notes the startling. "...Sorry," he offers politely, rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. The introduction gets a nod, though, and he replies, "Jonothon. 'Jono' if yer want." The question... catches him off guard. "A mage? Me?" He blinks. "N-not that I know of. Why d'yer ask?" There is very definitely an accent there. Very thick Cockney accent, to be precise. And a couple other odd things about his speech. His mouth is wrapped up, but his words aren't muffled. For that matter... he doesn't appear to breathe, either.
Quentyn Westwind	Jonothon, in turn, might place Quentyn's accent as Russian... or at least similar. It's very light-- definitely there, but light. "Nice to meet you, Jonothon," Quentyn returns the introduction with a quick, small smile. But the smile is quickly replaced by a more thoughtful look. "Um... I thought I... felt something..." Quentyn fiddles with his glasses again and, though he doesn't actually lean forward or anything, seems to peer at Jonothon more closely. Suddenly realization dawns on him. "Umm... you're one of those... cyb... cyber-- um, the people with the constructed bodies, right?" He smiles fleetingly at the sudden understanding.
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono tilts his head as Quentyn mentions having felt something. Then he seems to understand. "Oh. Oh, that." But he pauses when Quentyn asks him if he's artificial. Cyber? Oh wait. "A cyborg?" He shakes his head. "No. I'm human." Pause. The next word has a slightly bitter edge to it. "Mostly." He waves a hand, though. "Yeah... that energy was me. Sorry about that, I can't 'elp it. It's, er..." He pats the center of his chest. If Quentyn's hearing is good, he'll note it doesn't sound normal. It sounds... hollow. Like patting the face when the mouth is open. "It's in 'ere."
Quentyn Westwind	"Oh." And now the teen just looks puzzled again. But he just answers the next part. "Oh, um... nothing wrong with it," Quentyn shakes his head a little to emphasize the point, "It was just, um, unfamiliar." He reaches into his hoodie's hood ot scratch the back of his head and gives a kind of lopsided, sheepish smile. Like most of his seems to be, it's short lived, however. And from the light tilt of his head, his hearing is pretty good. Human. Mostly. Hollow sound. The boy looks very, very confused, face crinkling around his nose. "I-I see," the student says in a tone that suggests he really doesn't.
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono seems to understand that Quentyn's still confused. Part of him just wants to leave it at that, but... well. Quentyn's not from his world, and doesn't have the context to understand it without explanation. "...I'm a mutant. Was a human, but when I was in me teenage years, somethin'... happened. Powers manifested. Mine was... well." He pauses, raising a hand to pull at the top of his wrappings, over his cheek. And then something strange happens. A tiny flame emanates from under the wrapping. But there's something about it that's not normal. There's no heat coming from it, and the reddish color at the edges of the flames look like there's static in it-- like the 'snow' on an old analogue TV when there's no signal.
Quentyn Westwind	Comprehension dawns again. "Oh, like a black mage!" At first Quentyn barely gives the flame a glance, but that something about it makes him look once more. And a little more closely. But still only for a few seconds. That kind of sheepish smile appears again. "That doesn't mean you're not hume," the teen says in a way that suggests it would be, if not ridiculous, at least pretty silly to stop calling a mage human because they're a mage... and it sounds like that's how Quentyn's categorized the other youth. As though to underscore the point, aether gathers around Quentyn and he opens his palm upwards where it gathers. Some kind of Light-attuned spell, if Jono has the senses for it. And the student lets it disappate again. "See? I'm still hume." He grins and punctuates it with a nod.
Jonothon Starsmore	'Black mage'? Jono blinks, and then shakes his head. "I don't 'ave any magic, no." He fixes his wrapping, so the flame is hidden again. "That 'appens all the time. Can't turn it off. That's in 'ere." Again he pats his chest. "That's why me codename's 'Chamber'." It's a little easier to talk about it with someone who doesn't have the same stigma against him. Sadly, Jono doesn't have the senses to tell magic. He sees the light, however. "...A photokinetic?" he inquires. They seem to be on two different levels of thinking.
Quentyn Westwind	"I see," Quentyn says. He only seems to use that phrase when he actually doesn't see, doesn't he? But this time he pulls it off more smooth. "Um. White magic. I'm a white mage," the teen grins. "And um..." He looks around at the surroundings. "Do you know what this place is called? It feels a little bit like I stepped off the edge of the universe..." The white mage taps his pencil against his chin as he says that, and then scratches the back of his head again.
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono blinks again. 'White Mage'. Opposite of 'Black Mage', obviously. Though he doesn't know what a 'Black Mage' is. Maybe a necromancer or something? Well, he does ask a question, so Jono notes, "I dunno if it 'as an actual name. But this's where cyberspace an' the real world start to mix. That way--" He points in the direction of the Cyber Core-- "It's fully merged inter realspace. A lot of cyber-oriented worlds unify in this area."
Quentyn Westwind	'Cyberspace'. Quentyn taps his chin with his pencil again and it looks like this might actually be something he gets a notion of. Some people can literally plug into computers... here you can step into them. Somehow. Well ok. He scribbles down notes in that notebook of his again. "I think I kinda get it," Quentyn nods, still a touch hesitant. "Is your world around this place?"
Jonothon Starsmore	"Nah, not my world," Jono replies. "The New York 'o my world unified in the Strait of Americas." He shrugs a shoulder and tilts his head. "Which, uh, makes sense, what as how New York's in America. Dunno where the rest 'o my world went, though. It's probably around the Multiverse somewhere, though."
Quentyn Westwind	Quentyn blinkblinks and his eyes widen just a little. "Worlds can /break up/ when they--" He's interrupted by a beep from his pocket, but he finishes weakly with "...unify?" But after the first surprise he calms and... looks a little relieved? Perhaps glad that his own world is whole. He fishes a phone out of a pocket and glances at the display before pocketing it once more. "U-Um... sorry..." he flashes a small, apologetic smile. And the student does look reluctant to leave these things unquestioned. "I have to get back and prepare for tomorrow..." He holds up a hand as a wave in farewell. "Nice meeting you, Jonothon."
Jonothon Starsmore	"Sometimes, yeah," Jono replies. "Depends in a lot 'o things. I dunno how it works, truth be told." However, when Quentyn speaks of needing to leave, Jonothon nods. "Nice meetin' yer, Quentyn. Be careful out there."