Scene #5863: Scholarly Sins

Owner	Pose
Carna	Enark has become a very aged ghost. His eyes are still young and bright, oddly enough, and his face is still young even though it is lined and wrinkled. Even his gray hair. It is the same sort of effect as if one used make-up to try to make a young child look like an old person. Or photoshop to color someone's hair and add lines to their face without changing any of their other features. It's the same person, with a fascimile of 'old' laid over it, without involving any actual growth or development. The skin doesn't sag, the hair has not gone thin or receded. His aging is supernatural, not mundane. As he has invited a number of people to his study to tell them 'something important', he begins, once all have arrived by explaining his appearance. Wilson is gone, so there's no mimic furniture to worry about. The piece of the floor where the recliner was once bolted is still missing. There's still all the scrapes and threadbare carpet from its constant lunging and stalking. So all the other furniture scattered around is safe to sit upon. The Blue Scholar folds his hands in his lap, lookingg down at the carpet that still shows signs of corrosion from primordial corruption eating and twisting it, and waits for everyone to be settled. Then he says, "I once told Kord that the self-image of a Lit, of one of the native Dead of Lumiere, is a strong aspect in determining our appearance. Our spiritual manifestation is strongly tied to our psychology, our self-perception, and the integrity of our soul. To make a radical change to one's appearance or the way one's body function requires a drastic, traumatic experience or foreign element being introduced. I've certainly had that." Those who saw Enark with the same Corruption that once infested his study flowing into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, using him as a conduit of some kind, but failing to corrupt him, may think he refers to this. Or to the multiple instances of being impaled and recovering. Or the general horror and misfortune of Lumiere. But no. He doesn't look up as he says, "Someone once told me, 'The Dead don't change. Not really. The only change we can experience is loss, and we can only gain by taking from others.' I believed that for a long time. And then, I dared to believe it was wrong." He shakes his head. "It's not. I have gained through loss. And another has gained by taking from me."
Count Kord	A figure clad in red and black, a color scheme not comforting to natives of this realm, sits nearby in a chair made of shadows that emerge from the ground behind him. His long tail coils around the chair's left side, the end twitching with a soft 'tap tap' on the floor, like a content feline. Kord's face isn't human anymore, instead sitting in a gentle smile reminiscent of a certain shadowy god, perhaps an imprint of his experiences here, and a cosmic joke when one considers how contrasting that inspiring god's purview is to him. Fitting for the topic at hand, in any case. Change can be extreme when it happens. "Go on," he prompts, his voice gentle now compared to when he originally met Enark. His perspective of the dead is kinder now... he feels more of a duty or kinship to them. It's still baritone and now seems to echo with that cliche supernatural vibration.
Staren	Wilson is gone. Staren strides into the study and is about to greet Enark when that hits again, and he briefly hangs his head. Then he greets with a more subdued 'hey' and sits down. He's wearing his armor because for all he knew Enark's study could have been corrupted in the time between Enark sending the message and his arrival. Lumiere just sucks that way, much like Lordran. Since things seem safe for the time being, though, he removes his helmet for comfort. Enark explains about the appearance of the Lit. "So... after all these billions of years, you finally feel old?" Then he gives further depressing monologue. "Oh come on! That can't be the only way... What does that even mean? You've gained our friendship and all you had to 'lose' was your loneliness!"
Carna	Enark glances to Staren. "I speak in more definite terms, and less abstract, concerning the change I have experienced through loss." His eyes return to the floor. "In our first visitation to the past through the Halloween phenomenon we have experienced twice before, we encountered younger versions of two of the Stone Devils, known presently as Resaran and Lasyra. The latter briefly sought our cooperation in defeating the one named Luc, for twisting their organization into its current form. We have not seen her since Luc and the Stone Devils launched an assault on Tacet Sanctos and the Church of Bleak Mercy. But back then, in the distant past, she was still a child, bearing injuries suffered in life. So too with Resaran. This is because a child's self-image is much more... Malleable than an adult's. It has not yet been 'set in stone' as it were." Enark stands up slowly, tiredly. "But in our second visitation, they were both older, and their injuries seemed to be mended. That is not something that happens, generally, for the reasons I just explained. The mere passage of time is not in itself enough for the Dead to change." He walks around the chair he was seated on, towards a wardrobe that stands against a wall of book shelves. "When Lady Houken retrieved our Lady Tamamo no Mae from Emblem City, they brought someone back with them. Unfortunately, she was unable to survive outside of that corrupted place. She was... A 'memory ghost'. Less even than a spirit like myself. However, because I had violated a promise I made to all of you, to make no more MMIMICs, I was able to save her. You see, I was constructing a new body to save someone else I had promised to bring back here in Lumiere. I wanted to make another Perfect Mimic." He stops at the wardrobe. "I apparently did so properly, because the vessel was perfectly suited to receive her... As long as I was willing to make a sacrifice of part of my own soul." He opens the doors of the wardrobe and steps back expectantly. He then waits patiently. "May I introduce you to a girl we have met before, by a different name, and of a more progressed age. Her Death Name is Lacey." Timidly, a dark-skinned girl with white hair steps down out of the clothing storage object in a simple, patched-together dress. She looks extremely nervous, but she curtsies to the assembled strangers while keeping her head down. "N-nice to meet you." she stammers.
Count Kord	Kord watches with an almost statue-like patience. The serious tone does not destroy the creature's gentle smile, as none of this is new to him. There was a time when he tried to ply Enark for secrets he believed the Scholar was keeping from them, but now he's ready to just wait until the man divulges what he's talking about. Only the rise and fall of Kord's chest disturbs this sight. He still needs to breathe. His head swivels to take note of the wardrobe. He gives a skeptical look from what Enark was explaining... but then his eyes widen. And he stands from his seat, the shadow chair receding into the floor. He approaches slowly, and comes to a halt to stand a comfortable distance away from Lacey. He blinks slowly, once or twice, observing her. "I shall get you better clothing, Lacey," he says, "Those rags will not do for someone as important as you." He stands up and looks to Enark, smiling wider. His mouth can get rather wide now. "This is wonderful," he says, gleeful, "Ah..." A beat. "That would mean you gave a piece of your soul the first time as well," he muses, bringing a claw up to his mouth and looking up toward the ceiling.
Staren	Staren didn't go to the Halloween things since they sounded INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS, so all that is new to him. "I... I really don't mind you making more mimics, as long as they're not mindless monsters that just want to kill us. I wouldn't have saved the Perfect Mimic body otherwise." He smiles at the news that Enark has successfully brought someone back from the dead... Or whatever the right words for that would be in Lumiere. The cat-man gives a cheerful wave to Lacey. "Likewise. I'm Staren." He considers how to describe himself for a moment. "...an Action Researcher, I suppose you might say. Welcome to the land of the--" he looks around, "well, okay, this is still the land of the dead, but..." he gestures vaguely. "You get the sentiment, right?"
Carna	Lacey nods like someone eager to please. But all she gets out is, "Y-yes." in response to Kord. Enark nods as well, though more tiredly. "Which might explain the change to my internal structure, that only became more... Bleedy-woundy sometime after the fake Crow injured me. I am sure Staren remembers how bereft of spilling innards I was as he tried to mend me." Enark moves to the nearest seat and sits, head resting on one hand. "As long as I can succeed perfectly every time, yes. I suppose that will not be an issue, Staren. I suppose we can only hope the rest of the people I promised feel the same. That Priscilla feels the same. I admit there was some self-interest in informing people other than her first. Having people who can understand and speak on my behalf, instead of reacting from a position of emotion to a betrayal, might go well towards extending my longevity a bit longer." Lacey side-steps a few times to get closer to Enark. Nodding her head to Staren. "Yes," she repeats, then hesitates as she asks. "Where is Miss Maej Cits? And Miss Houken? And... Do you know where Soupi is? I heard she was here." Enark tiredly makes a discombobulated and extremely complex floppy-hand gesture of ambiguous nature that seems to indicate that two of those names are the aliases used by people abducted into Emblem City, that they are somewhere other than here, and that she does not realize their true identities still despite it being explained, and that it's really best that they do it themselves, and he's not really equipped to instruct children on the facts of death, and also that he is grateful that his head is still attached to his shoulders after his admissions, but he really doesn't have the energy to say all this right now after all that exposition.
Count Kord	Kord doesn't get it but he lets Enark relax after all of that. He focuses on Lacey now. "You might know me as Aepicus," he introduces, "My true name is Kord. I am not of this realm called Lumiere. Many of the others of Emblem were like me: trapped in a place they did not belong, shaped to be people they were not supposed to be. You will be able to speak with those three again sometime soon," in the grand scheme of things, he leaves out, "So do not worry over it much. Tell me, do you know how to use a weapon? Have you had any combat training? Lumiere is... a dangerous place, and it is best you know how to defend yourself." He's so calm, so patient, and strangely kind.
Staren	Staren shrugs. "I can't speak for the First. I doubt this will be seen as a betrayal, but it might be seen as making you less trustworthy. Or perhaps she will consider the extenuating circumstances warranted it. He tilts his head and looks a bit concerned at Enark's gesture. Did Enark explain poorly, or is Lacey just too mentally immature to understand the concepts? Or maybe they just haven't been explained properly. "I don't know where miss Houken is, exactly. I haven't seen her in awhile. Same with Maej Cits, who goes by Caster or Tamamo no Mae. Soupi goes by the name Kushiko, and lives on a ship deep in space. She remote-controls bodies to interact with us. Presently, she is sparring with one of my best friends." He retrieves a small holoprojector, and starts working on getting a camera feed from the Shrine of Adversity. "Is there anything you need?"
Carna	Lacey seems quite overwhelmed. If she knows the name Aepicus is doesn't immediately register. But she stayed in an orphanage and not knowing everyone in all of Emblem City is hardly surprising. But she bows anyway. "Nice to meet you. No, I... I have no idea how to fight." She glances nervously to Enark and says, "Mister Enark... He said I was safe here." Enark lifts his head and says, "For a given value of 'safe', but it is, at least, USUALLY safe here." That does not appear to be reassuring to Lacey. She looks to Staren and then back to Kord. "I should ask Raziel--I mean Resaran if that's okay. He knows how to fight. He always said the Gargoyle Knights should know how to protect people. But that sounds really scary." She seems even more scared by Staren saying that Soupi is fighting his friend. "I-Is Soupi okay!?" she starts to run over to Staren but halts a certain distance away from Enark as though there were an invisible physical tie to him. Lacye clutches at her stomach as she practically jerks back. Enark says, "Oh, yes. If she tries to move too far away from me, there is some connection between us that prevents it. I can move away from her just fine, but not the reverse. It is why she has stayed here so far. Among other reasons. I would like to note that she appears to be younger than the Lacey I met in the first Halloween party. I believe that THIS Lacey may have..." He looks to her, but has no real reason to be delicate about it. She has to have accepted her death by now. "...Expired earlier than the one we know. No doubt a distortion of history as part of how corrupted Emblem was." He has not, apparently, informed her that Emblem is gone and that version of Resaran/Raziel with it.
Staren	Staren's expression at the word 'safe' does give Enark reason to clarify. He tilts his head when Lacey says fighting sounds 'scary' -- he's so used to dealing with Elites that it sounds STRANGE to hear someone say that out loud. He looks even more confused when Lacey seems worried that Soupi's not okay. Why would she be sparring unsafely? "Of course she's okay. She's been through far worse stuff than sparring matches all the time." He strokes his chin after Enark reveals the mobility issue. "Hmm. That's strange. None of your other mimics were so limited. Any idea why? Could it be because you used a part of your soul? What if someone else picks her up and moves her away?"
Carna	Enark waves off the concern. "I didn't spend much time apart from my first Perfected Mimic, as we had limited secured space available to us. That very proximity was, at times, a cause for consternation. But it was that or the Unlit. So it is possible that the tautness of this invisible binding will slacken with time, as she develops more... 'Herself'ness. As her identity and individual soul strengthen, it is likely that will be able to venture off on her own. It might be an unintended safety precaution in the creation process, to keep a newly-created 'life' of sorts from wandering off without knowing the dangers of the world, but not binding the protector of such an ignorant soul incase I need to go off and do something for some reason. Convenient." He stands again and moves towards Staren so that Lacey can watch the fight. "It is only reasonable to assume that's how it works, since my first attempt eventually left me. I suppose enough time passed and he learned enough that he was fine to travel. As mentioned, she is younger than the one who eventually became Lasyra. She may not have had any cause to experience direct combat before now. And she was protected after she died, by Lady Tamamo, not abandoned to fend for herself with other children like... Her other self." He shakes his head. "This will require much adjustment. I'm not sure she understands concepts like outerspace and so on, so let's keep it simple." Lacey rubs her stomach as she follows along with Enark until she's close enough to see, not at all appeased by the news that Soupi, or Kushiko rather, has been fighting in more terrible battles than this one, given her only familiarity with the other girl. "It feels like there's a hook in my tummy." she says as she tries to peek at Staren's device. Having dwelled in Emblem for so long, the idea of screen-based viewing and communications isn't new. She looks over to Aepicus, or rather Kord, and then nods minutely. Assent to his offer. "If Soupi is fighting, I will too."