Scene #8609: Wish to Meet Again-2

Owner	Pose
Evehime Gevurah	Return to the wayhouse, suspended in the 'Night Before', as Evehime had named it, is a simple affair for how insane it is in concept. The site of the overgrown castle in the midst of that grey-blasted wasteland is already known to several. The rain-washed walls and wind-weathered rubble pose no especial threat. The oppressive air of your trembling bones. Your flattened pulse. The way you can't hear your footsteps, like they're drowned out by a much louder sound you just can't hear is perhaps several degrees worse than before, but no more than a deeply unpleasant deterrant. A long and uneasy walk is most of what anyone needs, to see the promised result of Marc Heller's work. Hmm. No. The spread of bleached sand and choking roots; purple-black tendrils that pulse like guts and bulge with mismatched eyes definitely wasn't this big before. Not by a lot. It's just that ragged sliver of quivering blackness between you and everything outside of 'here'. Since the last time, it has visibly begun to 'scab over'; narrower than it was when fully open, wider than it was when fully sealed, strung through with sticky filaments of glistening quasireality that drip reflective quintessence when disturbed, like recently congealed blood plasma. An indication, if an imprecise one, of how dedicated Marc has been to the impossible task set before him. And, incidentally, context as to the absurdity which is Evehime thrusting her hands into the two-dimensional abstraction in three-dimensional space and tearing it open once more. The inaudible-yet-bone-rattling humming in the air intensifies to the point of a single, nauseating throb. Long-dormant dust leaps from the ground follows it in a writhing wave. The glistening roots underfoot emit the stench of formaldehyde. But, beyond the Gevurah shaking the iridescent gore of reality off her fingers in disdainful little droplets, it's practically a formality to step through. A walk down the street-- the long, winding, pale lit street, suspended over the infinite void as a singular zigzagging bridge-- to visit a friend.
Ishirou	Ishirou is back again to this place. His clothing hasn't changed at all, still sinking into baggy and concealing clothing, instead of what he used to wear. Probably good, for this trip, because the eyes were a bit too much, and this place /felt/ cold. This place ever more felt like a scar, that someone was trying to drag itself into the landscape... He shakes the thoughts away. Evehime gave very specific instructions the last time, so this time around he pondered different questions in his head. More to the fact that... he found a chunk of his past, what did he actually want? What did he desire from this wish now that he got something... and really didn't want it? That was a real question... what did he really want? Well... his body was one thing, but that's a different story. Phony would probably destroy him for what he did to himself, and for what reasons... but that'd be almost kindness next to what he feels like now. What was beyond that?? The next thing was something Eva couldn't do either. Regaining himself, detoxing himself from all this negativity and pain. Treated those he loved with love, those he didn't know with patience and kindness, and anyone who didn't fit into that with patience and kindness. That last one was going to be hard... but he'd do it. He has to. What comes after that..? What does he want so bad that he risked life and limb against a force of nature? Why was it so hard to think of something like this for himself..? Though it's not something to be envious of, he realized it too. He can't imagine Marc's pain, losing someone so close to himself like this... Other than his steps, he didn't seem to make any other sounds.
Redshift Operators	That notoriously nuclear gang of fixers and criminals is back again. Their connection to Sapient Heuristics is loose at best, but their interest in the wishgranting is clear and obvious. The gruff leader most of all, but somehow least focused on the specifics of anyone else's wishes. It's, oddly, the astronaut who speaks. "I wonder how that impossible goal got accomplished." They say. "It seemed symbolic. So I think I don't get it. But I'd like to, at least a little. I want to know." "You gonna get into punch-mysticism too, Newt?" "I have long encouraged such development." "Just kinda unexpected. Out of character. Hey, I'll support too." "I want to know." The astronaut repeats in the exact same tones and the exact same pacing. Where's Marc now? Well, for now, they're just following along with the cluster of operators. Having chronically oscillating focus means that they let the quietness of the space subsume them, without truly resisting or embracing it.
Persephone Kore	The wayhouse eventually emerges into view- all three stories of it, the white stone and steely gray glass, nearly perfect. Was it ever destroyed? Evehime shattered it utterly in front of everyone, but seeing it intact again, that feels like a dream. Only those with very good eyes might spot the hairline cracks from here. Marc can reassemble, but not repair. The man himself walks out to meet you, looking as pleased with himself as his austere humility ever allows. Painted nails and slightly longer hair aside, he's just as neat as the party left him. Hermitage is no excuse for sloppiness. "Gevurah. May it please you," he says as soon as he's in earshot. He nods politely, sweeps the rest of the group with his eyes, and then lets a little smile slip. "You didn't need to come. But I'm glad you did. Come in; inside." He pivots and leads the way. And, nearly as soon as one's inside, it looks childishly wrong. The first instant might be convincing. Anyone who isn't Marc's height will see discrepancies immediately. Those closer to six feet only need to tilt their heads or take a step to the side for things to misalign. It's all been arranged to look perfect from exactly one perspective, like a diorama of itself: objects have been reassembled as facades with no backsides. Where curtains once hid the wall, he hasn't bothered to remake the wall behind them. He can't possibly think this is really 'how it was'. It's utterly unhinged. There's half of a mug on the table, for crying out loud, and a gaping hole under the table where he hasn't even reassembled the floor. Did this place get to him? Did he run out of time? And yet... "'Recreated as the flower, without perception or judgement'. Is this not, Evehime Gevurah, precisely the way it was? I've taken great pains not to make any inaccurate assumptions, you understand." He picks up the half-mug, walks over to the pantry, pours some water, and returns. His telekinesis keeps the water from falling out the missing half of the mug. Then he takes a sip, as if that were perfectly ordinary, and puts on a small smile. "Make yourselves at home."
Angela	Tennant and Rook seem enamored enough with Marc's wish to return again and lend their hand--or maybe it's Gebura, once again quietly overseeing them, who has brought them back for another Gevuradventure. Regardless, the two Agents haven't changed their gear since their last Evehimexcursion. Not that shifting around gear is likely to help too much when it feels like they're delving into an Abnormality's world where the rules are dictated outside the typical norms they are accustomed to. Justin Rook looks at those 'quasi-reality' filaments with a kind of quiet awe while Tennant goes on and on about Jet Li's The One. "It's a multiverse but there's only one hundred and twenty five worlds--" Tennant is saying. "Why only a hundred twenty five?" Rook frowns. "Uh, what?" "It just seems like an arbitrary number to me." Tennant frowns as they rack their brain to consider if there's actually a reason for why they picked the number hundred twenty five. "I think they just picked the number randomly." Rook nods as if he won an argument that nobody has having, swinging Penitence over his shoulder as he looks towards Red Dwarf. He glances up and over to Marc after as he speaks up. "Speak of the devil." He gives Marc a casual salute with his index and middle fingers from his forehead. "'Course we're coming. We're not the type of folks to leave a job half done." "Have you enjoyed any martial art flicks?" Tennant asks of Marc resulting in Gebura jumping in with a, "Oh quit it already. Let him focus." The Agents otherwise follow after Marc and-- --it's the mug that draws Rook's attention. He doubletakes at it and he squints. "Is this place unfinished...?" Marc just outright drinks from it and Rook frowns. "This place isn't going to suddenly obey physics when we least suspect it is it?"
Ishirou	Ishirou snaps out of his silence, isolation, and deep thought. He is out of his head as he stares at the house... constructed from... A single point of view, and looking like it'd blow over if there was a strong wind. Ishirou looks initially concerned but then remembers Marc is fairly strong psychically... so this should be fine unless he's feeling mischievous today. Which, then... really will only get you a fright instead of hurt. He looks at Rook, "No he's keeping things together with his powers, we're safe here," he says, with an affirming hand on his back. Ishirou pauses and speaks, despite his dark mood and thoughts, he says something positive. "I like your perspective on this, Marc."
Kukuru	'You will now reassemble this place as it was.' 'What you must retrieve to rebuild the wayhouse is now lost in an infinite space of non-being.' 'Recreate it as the flower, without perceiving or judging it,' How much work has Marc accomplished in those weeks that Evehime had granted? How far has he come, and how much is there left to do? For someone like Kukuru, even trying to imagine what the end state should look like is nigh impossible, never mind actually doing it. At most, she knows that with the kind of power he has, it wouldn't be nearly so impossible, but her ability to picture how that would happen even with weeks of time to pull parts from the infinite nothingness is... Lacking. It's not as though she's oblivious to that, but the questions Evehime leveled at her, and the answers to her own questions to the Gevurah have given her quite a bit to think about since last time. She's even made some strides towards thinking about the importance of her experiences, understanding her own nature further, but something's still missing. Grasping the Unconquered Night still evades her, but two out of three still has Kukuru feeling pretty okay. She's feeling even better when she sees Marc's work firsthand, though, beaming with... Pride? No. Pride would involve something she actually contributed to personally. This is something else. Relief? Elation? Whatever it is, she's just really happy to see that he's come so far. Even Evehime tearing reality open to open a path to see more doesn't startle Kukuru out of that glee, although she does wait on the other side for the Gevurah to step through before offering her a rectangular takeout container full of homemade stuff. "Evie~ I couldn't decide what to bring, so I put a bit of everything in. Oh, but remember to wash your face after you eat. The grease can be bad for youyr skin." It's all fried to a perfect golden brown and only slightly soggy thanks to the hole punched in the lid so it doesn't steam up too much. Marc, too, gets a box of the same stuff a short while after she sees him coming out of the wayhouse. She doesn't rush over to deliver that right away, of course, since she knows Evehime's got some work to do, but she does wait until after the invitation to come in is given before she passes it over with a gentle pat on the arm. Things look a little off to her at first glance, and then Kukuru steps over, and then things look really wrong. Instead of looking shocked, though, she giggles softly when he explains his reasoning behind this, then goes to check on one of those half-mugs herself, to look at it from several angles, then to step back to find that one perfect angle again and just gaze at all of that work from where it looks just right. "No judgment, no perception, and without using his experience or expression for any of it... So that's why you were asking about those koans, right?"
Nephra Tangent	Misty rain clings to Nephra's rainjacket as a thin film of refraction over the already-transparent vinyl. It's working at its purpose, at least- save for the patched-over scuffs and tears. With the clear red hood pulled up to shield her head, Nephra's already-spotty one-eyed periphery vision is distorted and constricted, but with the ever-present hunch to her shoulders and downwards tilt, her glare still meets the eyes dotting the gnarled roots with timid wideness. It doesn't take a breeze blowing to make her shiver. Loose-tied boots are twisted awkwardly to step on firm stones and sand instead of pulsing rootwork and gall-like eyeballs, clunking in arrhythmic syncopation and slipsliding every few motions on wet moss clusters. Hands stuck in pockets do little to help balance her, and she has precious little gear with her save the detached halves of her spear slung by a canvas strap across her back- in retrospect, the steadyness afforded by holding onto something like that could have helped, but her mind is preoccupied with the racing thoughts over why on Earth she's even come back here, so much so that the tail-end of spotting Ishirou- Paladins Chevalier, and person who has directly put out bounties for her capture -enter through the ripped-open portal, only spikes her heart rate after gloved fingers are already pushing the cobweb-esque quintessence aside to step through herself. Ah. Goddamn it. Second time's really pushing luck. If anything, that's motive enough to actually put her foot through and head in, just to see. Nephra almost aims a salute at Marc, even forming her hand into the shape, but quickly puts it back down at her side the moment Rook does it first, and instead defaulting into a too-toothy grin that winds up both forced and meaner than one ought to. She breaks it off into a small cough. "Haha. How's your big retreat been at, ah, the world's weirdest hotel, mister? You run through all the brochure-listed activities and stuff yet?" A statement just to fill air that won't let sound linger well within it, spoken flat and hollow, as Nephra shrugs her coat's hood off. She rocks on her feet from heel to toe, and where leather ought to squeak from the dampness, nothing much comes of it all. Nephra shoots frequent side-eye glances at Ishirou as they all set off, despite his sullen demeanor, as if scared he'll try and do something. Between those, though, she still absentmindedly finds herself walking near the bridge's railing as the group departs, gloved fingers miming the shape of walking legs across its top. "Woah. Haha. You turned it into one of those fancy new art galleries, huh? Everything strung up on..." Oh. No string there. "...You got a name for this piece?" Nephra seems far more brazen to poke around the wayhouse than last time, regrettably, and the invitation to make herself at home sends her into a slightly-giggly expedition to fidget with arrangements of ornaments and flatware, the exact sort of things that'd be labelled with 'do not touch' if it were a gallery. It's not hard to guess that her assumption that she shouldn't is the exact motive behind why she is.
Evehime Gevurah	The Gevurah had posed the entire party the same contemplations as she had Marc, before. The one hand clapping. The original face. The look of the flower. Most had answered, and she had taken what they'd given into her own response, so she must have listened to them at least. The fact that she has nothing to say to them at all, this time, at least along the way, feels wrong. If she didn't want them here, it would be as easy as doing nothing to keep them away. If she intended them to learn, too, then there'd be nothing gained and a great deal lost by walking the long road in dead silence, save for the perfect meter of heavy footsteps. <J-IC-Scene> Redshift Operators \| Red Dwarf says, "Taking it back. This is definitely Neutron-style, times a hundred." It's oddly appropriate that the moment of arrival is where Evehime chooses to suddenly reply to what people had said ten to twenty minutes ago. It's tough to tell whether she'd thought about it the whole way, had been distracted thinking about something else the whole way, had seen no need to bother at first, or intended to not preoccupy her mind with anything beforehand. "There is little mystical about it. It is spiritual knowledge, of a measure, but it is a kind that is not inaccessible to intellect." she appears to correct Red Dwarf, if distracted. "Though it slips through the fingers of the grasping and comprehending mind, and falls from the hand of 'that which says I', there is no surrender of self necessary to know it. The knowing is worked by the tools of idea and impression, without need of the divine universe. Abandoning presentiment is nothing alike abandoning 'self'." She says, in the same moment she turns her head to look at Rook, gaze skimming over both of them, "You have been taught wrongly. Consider it a correction of knowledge, or a restoring of a natural sense. Not unearthly revelation." Yet, oddly, as Evehime stops at the threshold of the wayhouse, the last through the door, for the fact that she'll block it by staying there, there is one assertion that she responds to very abruptly. The choice of which one is strange, too. Head and shoulders taller than Marc, surely, more than anyone present, Evehime can spot every single utterly ludicrous inch of whimsical cheek all around her. It's like answering a test question with a drawing of a dinosaur. But even before she greets Marc, Evehime hears, 'No he's keeping things together with his powers' And says, "This is a wayhouse.", as if it were some gently self-evident refutation. Kukuru orbiting around her is enough for Evehime to unfold one arm and hold her hand out in a pause gesture, indicating that she belay her mothering behaviour for the moment. Not long after, however, she gestures towards a spot on the far table; clearly a silent suggestion to leave the food she wants to share at a place meant to eat it, later, which would be very polite and kind, where it not for the fact that the table is missing two legs and an underside.
Evehime Gevurah	'...You got a name for this piece?' "Indeed. Tell me what its name is." Evehime finally says to Marc. She finds him instantly, which means she'd known exactly where he was, and simply been fully focused on staring at the three dimensional scribble all around her instead. The question feels strange to hear. As if she expects he already knows the answer, but is forcing him to handle the rope just to see what he does with it. <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "I think it's just... half." While waiting, however, she enters the second room, and removes a mug from the table. Despite functionally being a third of a drinking vessel, the way she handles it could deceive someone into forgetting that; there's a sort of effortless grace to it that makes only displaying its front-facing side seem perfectly natural. So much that it seems almost idiotic; like she's talking to a child; when she lowers it a bit beyond what should be a comfortable holding height for her, and says, "Tell me what this is."
Redshift Operators	The gruff gunman gives a quick motion of his head, one that slightly flicks an antenna of his helmet's receivers, in greeting to Tennant. The astronaut repeats things the way that Evehime has said them "This is a wayhouse. I get it. I get a little bit of it." They stop speaking for almost ten seconds before their gruff leader nudges them on the shoulder with the back of his hand, prompting them to actually explain. "We already know that what's here means that there's a wayhouse here. It's not an assumption to make. The word 'wayhouse' has always meant what we're looking at right now. So it's not a different manifestation of the word. It's not bridging any gaps to say that this is a wayhouse. It's just more humble and obvious about the presentation." "Nah, Newt, you've still lost me. Help me out." "If you know how a magician does their trick, you call what they do 'stage magic'. And if you know only the one half, how it looks, and don't know the other half, you still call it 'stage magic'. The other half of the perspective doesn't change the term, or the substance. So acknowledging what you understand clearly is a kind of honesty. It doesn't miss the target. It just acknowledges that other perspectives exist, by leaving them out and not pretending it knows them." "Don't think I'm gonna understand this one." "I will understand it, and turn it into a sword technique." "Okay." The giant, entirely lacking telekinesis or other ways of reinforcing anything, simply sits down somewhere, probably on a half-chair, something that could not, in any way, really, truly support his dense muscular weight, silently drawing no conclusions about function as much as the reassembler drew no conclusions about its back half.
Persephone Kore	"I'm afraid Sapient Heuristics is rather strict on the glorification of violence," Marc says to Tennant while the others inspect his work. His eyebrows lift, but not disapprovingly. "For the sake of the little ones, you understand. Though, while I'm off-station, if you've any to recommend...? You're an aficionado, I take it." He smiles dutifully at Ishirou's praise, and then asks, like he's trying to gently teach a lesson: "And what is my perspective, Ishirou? In your own words." Kukuru's pat pleasantly startles him, or at least he amiably pretends it does. His telekinesis supports the half-mug as he releases it, taking the fried gift with lips-parted reverence. "Oh, my. This is... And so soon after... you really won't let us look after you, without trying to look after us back. Well, I'd be a hypocrite to critique that. Thank you greatly, Kukuru." He pulls her in for a one-armed hug, eyes lingering fondly on hers. It'd be impolite to stuff his face, but the quiet eagerness with which he nibbles on some of the snacks a minute later hints that he's gotten very bored of whatever food is stocked here. He dabs his lips on a napkin before answering Nephra. "Mm. Yes, I'm afraid I've quite exhausted the local amenities and entertainments, Miss- pardon me, is it 'Miss'?- Tangent. I'm quite grateful my work left me little time for boredom. Oh, but it's always nice to have more chances to meditate, isn't it?" That's unusually wordy. Maybe he senses she wants distracting. Evehime soon distracts him, however- if the main point of coming here can be called a distraction. He soaks in her assessment with receptive self-assurance; even though she hasn't rendered an explicit verdict yet, there's no sense he's anxious for it. "Tell me what its name is." Marc starts to answer, stops, then straightens himself up with a little tug at his collar. Quite firmly, and a little proudly: "Why, I have no idea at all."
Ishirou	Ishirou watches Evehime go get another glass. Only a third... He also listens to Marc, who is trying to teach him a lesson while also explaining himself. He also listens to the astronaut explain, while making his comparison to stage magic. Ishirou takes a step back, both reflecting and walking through his own way through the house that they did with Marc. Trying to think about how he would have moved, and trying to reflect on that with his own memories. He realizes, after some time... he can't exactly make the connection. This is because his perspective is different. This is... very similar to how someone close to him sees things, the world around her. Sure, it's not as... extreme here, but... He's led off the thought for a moment, noticing Nephra stare at him and be... cautious? Concerned? Worried..? He can't put a finger on it, but for once she seems to be treating him as if he's the time bomb, and not her... whatever, no don't think about her. She's not why you're here. "I... think I get it. This is the perspective of the object according to someone who would have walked through here as a passerby would have... a way house. It isn't a place you stay for long, but a place you pass through. So instead of taking in every bit, you only take in what you can perceive.." he says both as an answer to Evehime and to Marc. "So it's still a cup, but only the parts you interacted with. But if you don't see the rest, you can't perceive it..." he pauses, is this what Evehime was thinking about with whom Marc lost? There is more to this, and he feels he sees the edges but not the whole thing.
Angela	"Er," Tennant says to Evehime. "About...movies?" "There's no way she's talking about the movie, Tennant." Rook counters. But the idea that Evehime is talking about him being wrong about physics is something he's a lttle less willing to state aloud. He's actually a little fearful of what a restoring of a natural sense might entail. He considers this a healthy reaction but the idea that he considers it a healthy reaction hits him like a chill. He's already acknowledged that Marc's goals are surpirisingly or not fairly in line with the Company's. And his own--but he's never been the best at Attachment. Abandoning presentiment. "Face the Fear..." Rook murmurs. "...Yeah, I guess I was never really..." ''I will understand it, and turn it into a sword technique'' "Heh, would love to see it." Rook manages a grin at White Dwarf, just barely missing (fortuitiously) Nephra's near salute of her own. Tennant focuses on what they do know. "Well, I really enjoyed this one I watched called Kung Fu Hustle which is like Looney Toons meets wuxia style martial arts flick. Plays with expectation a lot and--well, mm... There's Everything Everywhere All At Once. That has people shoving stuff up their butt." Tennant cups their chin as they're now considering... "You know, I was thinking 'These two films don't glorify violence just express it, the real messages are of peace' but then I was like 'but the violence is pretty awesome' so maybe any sort of martial arts flick, even if the message is ultimately about seeking peace--is nonetheless sort of glorifying violence by its very nature? Just by expressing violence in such a cinematic and artful way?" Tennant crosses their arms, mulling on this in further detail. "But you know, it IS really artful, and it isn't as if anyone truly gets hurt in the viewing..." They gesture with their other hand. "On the other hand, there is definitely a scene in EEAAO where a lady wields her tiny dog on a leash like it's a Kusarigama so..." They mime moving their hands up and down. "It ''is'' very funny. I ''am'' a film afficianado though. I mean, not just martial arts films? It's ... Well, being honest, the entertainment back home really blows so getting access to all this multiversal entertainment really gave me something to feel passionate about. It's like a new frontier!"
Kukuru	<J-IC-Scene> Nephra Tangent says, "Haha. Hey Marc? That mug half full or half empty?" <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "I think it's just... half." <J-IC-Scene> (NPC) Marc Heller says, "Oh, thank you. But don't take it back. It is rather spiritual still, I think." <J-IC-Scene> (NPC) Marc Heller transmits a genteel sip. "I can't imagine what you're talking about. The mug is quite complete." "If it works, it works." Kukuru concludes with a firm nod as though already understands. She doesn't, but she also does! Kind of. It's not the sort of understanding that comes from her own experiences with how mugs usually work, but from what Marc and Evehime are displaying with it. Even if it only looks like part of a mug... It's still doing mug things. She doesn't need to question it further than that, if that's how it's working. Thankfully, Evehime gives her enough direction that Kukuru doesn't dote on her more than she already has, nodding quickly and placing it on the table without a second thought as to how many legs it actually has versus how many legs and undersides a table usually should have. It's standing, after all, so why shouldn't it be able to hold the food container? '... you really won't let us look after you, without trying to look after us back. Well, I'd be a hypocrite to critique that. Thank you greatly, Kukuru.' "Mhm! It helps me feel better, too, becaaause... I like doing this. Things feel more right when I can do this." She replies with another cheerfully absent-minded giggle, leaning into the hug while using both of her arms in return and looking right back up at Marc with her usual softness. "Did you get enough rest while you were doing all this? Your..." Kukuru's gaze drifts to his hair, and then purses her lips while looking over at his fingers. "... Hmm. I can help with that later if you want. Oh, but human hair is... Different from what I usually do anything with." He's probably not into the same styling that the kids at home like, right? Or their parents, even. 'Is this place unfinished...?' 'This is a wayhouse. I get it. I get a little bit of it.' "I think it's perfect for what it needs to be: A nice wayhouse for everyone that needs it. Although I've never heard it called that before..." She explains to Rook with a pleasant hum, inwardly feeling a little proud for actually looking that up beforehand. She soon joins Red Giant in taking a seat, holding one leg to her chest with her hands held around her ankle lightly. Is there even enough surface area to sit on it? It looked like a chair from where she was standing, and that's enough for her to just take it as is and not look at it again while taking a seat and simply trusting that it is, in fact, a chair. 'Don't think I'm gonna understand this one.' "Maybe it's easier if you... We know that we don't understand it yet? I mean, there's a whooole lot of things that I don't understand yet, but if my family and friends-" She looks back over at Marc, Tennant, Rook, and Evehime meaningfully. "-tell me that these are what they are, then I don't have to worry not understanding right away while I'm using it. I can just keep learning until I do."
Nephra Tangent	'Miss- pardon me, is it 'Miss'?' "Huh?" Marc's request for clarification sparks an odd confusion across Nephra's face, as if she's been tossed a trick question. "What's that supposed to mean? If you've got a jab lined up just throw it. I can handle myself." A long moment's pause, with jaws chewing at the inside of her lip, and a hollow smile quickly gets called up to it, and wipe away the quizical expression. "Haha. Exhausted all of it, huh. You get bored enough to try an' see how the bulbs of the streep lamps outside work? Betcha' didn't." She has no basis to assume he didn't- blind faith and hoping he was task-focused enough not to bother are all she has, the specific point picked more from a faint thought she'd had wandering back across the bridge this time. If his goal was to distract her, she's distracted, at least a little bit. Nephra finds the squeakiest cabinet she can to rifle through, in such a way that it may be unclear whether she's just trying to cause a ruckus, or actually hunting for snacks. It's maybe too optimistic to imagine anything behind facades has been reconstructed, though- so instead, she trapses to look again for the wall-spanning windows she'd spent her focus on the last time she'd been here. 87, Not like the view from them'll be any different.) 'Indeed. Tell me what its name is.' Nephra startles when her half-jabbing question gets followed up by Evehime herself saying something, her mouth partially opening as if to protest, before an awkward shuffling hand instead fixing on a pocket-stored lollipop to peel and silence herself with. It's embarrassing to try for a joke and stumble into something the teacher latches onto, after all. 'Why, I have no idea at all.' "...That's a mighty wordy title." The lollipop crunches even as it muffles Nephra's words a bit. "Guess it's the sort you'd 'spect from the trippy abstract stuff, though. Haha. How long it take to come up with something like that?"
Evehime Gevurah	'Why, I have no idea at all.' Evehime exhales, so deeply, so slowly, that it takes the full count of ten to reach silence. Her eyes close, and by the count of ten again, there has yet to be so much as a twitch of motion behind her eyelids; she simply stares into the dark only she can see. Then, spoiling the double perfect ten, the corner of her lip quirks just a second out of step, and then she lifts her free hand to her face, and-- quietly laughs into the back of it. Yes. There's no mistaking it. That answer of Marc's is what set that tremor in her chest and that subtle bounce into her shoulders. The way her eyes are shut still shows that they turn up at their corners, even gently warping the markings near them. Concealing it with a hand is a courtesy, and probably a habitual one. Her eyes glitter a little when she opens them again. The residual heat of a smile still lingers on her face, when she lowers her hand, tilts her head, and says to Marc, "This is a perfect answer." Just then, her gaze wanders down to Marc's fingernails, and something about that causes those smiling embers to glow, by some sudden, revitalizing breeze. "And that is an excellent one." she says, ostensibly to Neutron, though she seems too caught up in fondly watching Marc sip from half a cup. "When one seeks refuge at a wayhouse, what they have come seeking is warm air, strong walls, a ceiling that keeps away weather, a bed to lay in, food to eat, the essence of comfort, safety, rest. They do not seek refuge along the road, in search of table backs and cup bottoms, or so many bricks and such shape of seats." She'd seemed more or less content to leave it at that, and to allow a shared understanding germinate between Neutron and herself, but it seems that Ishirou asking for more is enough reason to keep speaking, because she does. And yet it still sounds as if she's talking to Neutron. "A traveller who is truly upon the road, will think nothing of these things, save perhaps the joy of the novel. They will see comfort, safety, rest, and call it a wayhouse. How strange it is, that so many who believe themselves travellers, will seek warm bedding and dry floors, and be confused and repulsed by a chair of two feet. They did not come seeking a four-footed chair. They had sought any suitable to rest in. The stump of a tree would suffice. And yet, upon seeing that chair of two feet, they have already deceived themselves, believing that their confusion must come from somewhere; and thus the illusion that they had sought a wayhouse of trivial specifics is born." She slowly sets the partial mug down, and says "It is a cup. You have recognized it as such. You have no thought in mind of how large it must be, of what material, what shape, for a cup to be as a cup. If I were to remove one grain, it would be a cup. If I were to add one, it would be a cup still. I did not ask 'what are the attributes of the cup', or 'what is wrong with the cup', or even 'what type is the cup', but merely what it is. Your 'impression' has comprehended its nature as 'a cup', but a hunger of mind has demanded more, unasked, and transformed 'a cup' into something else. I have shown you none of these things. You have defined the cup with qualities it has not presented to you itself, and which no one has need of knowing."
Evehime Gevurah	Releasing her grip on he mug, setting it exactly where it was, solid side facing the rest of the room, not an inch out of perspective, Evehime says to Tennant, offhandedly, yet with a certain strange weight, "If you had love of violence, you need only skewer your trusting friend. If you had need of violence to have love of martial art, a story alone would not suffice. Violence and nonviolence; this too is a false duality. There is 'violence' without 'art'. There is 'violence' without 'strikes', or 'motion', or even 'intent'. A strike thrown that impacts nothing is 'nonviolent'." "Thus martial art is neither a matter of peace or killing. It is grasped, as well, through nonduality. As 'art', the more the artist adds to encourage one correct interpretation, the more muddy and worthless it is." She looks over to Kukuru seating herself obediently, a tinge of fondness creeping back into her voice. "Context is necessity to story, but not in the simple comfort of the moment." '...That's a mighty wordy title.' And, yet, a moment of displeasure. Patience, perhaps, in the way she looks down at Nephra, for having been one that had come out to fight her before, and having let a single crack show in the shell around her heart, but a limited kind. "And here, now, the instinct. That if it is not one thing, or its opposite, then there should be a third, unrevealed secret. A space between the two, or a point undiscovered. In expecting a name, and being given none, you have invented one. You have seen him given a choice of all the names that exist, and when he has answered 'none', you have taken 'none' to be another choice you did not see. That 'none' is a name, itself, and cannot be the absence of one. I am curious why this is." And, finally, back to Marc. "As I am one last thing, before I declare that your training is completed." "In infinite dark, at infinite distance, in infinite space, tell me how it was that you found your first piece, and then all the others after it. Before you recreated this wayhouse exactly as it was, there is this matter, of how you have found its pieces, and from where."
Persephone Kore	"You're close," Marc says to Ishirou, and it's approval rather than reproach. He holds out the half-mug for Ishirou to inspect. "You know, this mug might have had two handles. I wouldn't know. I only saw it from one side. It would be natural, wouldn't it, to 'complete' it with only one? But I would be telling myself a lie." "In other words-" he looks to Evehime while sitting down, and somehow he makes sitting feel even more formally attentive than standing- "the lesson is of seeing without judging, of perceiving without foreknowledge, if I have grasped it right. Of unlearning something that even children know." He puts on a deeply familiar and jarringly warm smile when Kukuru explains, but his eyes are faraway. "You're a lot like her, too, aren't you. I think I know why you connect. I'm not the one you need to worry about overtaxing myself, but..." His smile turns uncharacteristically lopsided. He doesn't seem self-conscious of the breach in composure. "If you insist, it might be nice to have you advising on my hair. Yours is enviably well-kept." Marc chews thoughtfully on another piece of fried food while Tennant explains. He licks his lips afterwards- a compliment- before dabbing at them again. "Well. That does sound delightful- most of it, anyway. It's not as though I'll judge you for it. Only, children aren't as critical as we are, are they? They learn so readily from example, I'm not certain they can be relied on to tell 'cool' from 'good'. And with, you know..." He gestures at the waystation telekinetically holding itself together. "A child 'swinging around a dog' could be much worse for us, couldn't it. Not that there's much harm in me stealing away for a movie night." He'd shown no indication of hanging on Evehime's judgement before. But when she falls to quiet, even Marc leans forward in his seat. Eighteen, nineteen seconds... and then he joins her in soft laughter. It's a sweet sound from him. One doesn't get to hear it often. "I was certain, regardless, that I'd learned something of value," he says while pushing himself up to his feet. "It brings me joy that it could make you happy too, Evehime Gevurah." Her last question stills his joy to contemplation again. The answer is slow, but not uncertain. "I wished to be nearer to Emery. That brought me one piece, and then another. All of my wishes, in one way or another, are that." Then Marc moves towards the door. One last thing slows him: catching Nephra's eyes, and Nephra's remark.
Persephone Kore	"I'm sorry," he says, and the little dip of his head seems to mean it. "I meant to give you the chance to tell me what sort of person you are. If you wanted it, of course. But you've been very informative." His lips make a smile that's all sympathy, no joy. "You're 'the sort of person who has never been asked that before'. Aren't you?"
Ishirou	Ishirou listens. That's all he can do, at this point. This is a step beyond the understanding he can actually normally try and brute force, that he can reach out and look around with. The understanding of... not what something inherently is, but what one perceives. This brings back the idea of the true face, of the questions on the way... He picks up the mug once Eve puts it down, takes it to a seat at the table, and sets it down. While Marc also explains, perhaps a bit more in the way he can understand, what is being taught. This is what he was being told too, by Sakura... Well, not exactly the same, but they touch just ever so slightly. Seeing without judging. He sets the cup down and then lays his head on the table in front of it, simply... Looking at it. He's not actually trying to 'look' at it, not exactly the way he'd normally do. He isn't scanning it, or trying to understand /it/ but rather trying to metabolize the lesson here. Throwing away the knowledge that even a child would have, and instead seeing and experiencing without your own perceptions. He also doesn't look unhappy for once, he looks thoughtful. Finally, he looks at Marc, "So what does this tell you about your lost relative..?" he asks, "If you wish to tell us... if not I'll respect your wishes, it is personal.." Then to The Gevurah... "I lost the desire for what I wished for, during that fight... though I think it wasn't ever about that wish. I just don't know what it is that I want, truly, in my heart.."
Redshift Operators	"Recognizing false dualities and reconciling them through rejecting the premise. A common aspect of the zen koans, and a common aspect of your lessons here." The ninja speaks up more here, nodding sagely at what Evehime said. But it's still the astronaut who takes the lead for the Redshifts, when speaking now. "You focused on your objective and nothing else. Devised a mental model of a world in which your objective was completed, and then took individual steps to make it real." They seem to be processing those words as they speak them. There's a long period, maybe ten or twenty seconds of total silence, before they nod and seem to have a more positive posture. "Yeah." There's a bit more energy in that. Maybe they're happier. They turn to Evehime now. "Does this mean you'll grant the wish? Or does this mean the wish is already being granted?"
Kukuru	'... a lady wields her tiny dog on a leash like it's a Kusarigama so...' Kukuru puts a note in her phone to look that up later. It sounds exotic, but today's been a lesson in learning not to make so many assumptions about the vast swathes of things she doesn't know about. 'Why, I have no idea at all.' 'This is a perfect answer.' Should Kukuru have been tenser about the question and the answer? No, why would she be? Marc's clearly learned a lot through all of this and worked incredibly hard to recreate the essence of a wayhouse, of everything that this place needs, and of not seeing what isn't there. Evehime hasn't steered him wrong in the slightest, and it comes forth so straightforwardly that even Kukuru can understand the answer when she hears it. And hearing so much about about food, about bedding, warmth and comfort, safety from the outside... It's enough to make Kukuru want to take a nap right then and there. It reminds her of simpler times, too, before she learned even a quarter of what she knows now, and even before she joined the Concord. Breathing in all those nostalgic feelings has her actually yawning (into her hand, to be polite), and she returns Evehime's gaze with a warm smile in turn. "Mhm! Safety, warmth, comfort, fullness... Once you have all those, context and everything else can come through suuuper easy. Nobody's feeling rushed to say things they don't want to, nobody's distracted by what their body needs or whatever's outside that could hurt them... That's the kind of feeling this place needs way more than all that other stuff. It's the kind of feeling I want to give my family whenever I'm around them, too, but..." She looks up at the ceiling, then yawns softly. "Building stuff outside of that funny place sure is a lot of work, huh? Marc really did a good job here..." She murmurs while looking towards the opposite side of the room next, a curious glint suddenly coming to her eye. What DO the beds feel like here, anyway? She'll have to find out later. First... There's more to listen to, as Evehime asks Nephra about that invented name, and as she asks Marc one more thing about his methods, to find that first piece that led to the rest. These queries hold onto Kukuru's attention like a vice, even prompting her to start thinking about how all of this ties back to Marc's wish. There's Marc's response to Kukuru herself, as well, and she nods slowly in response while tapping a finger to her chin. "Hmm... We are, aren't we? It's hard not to, when we both care about a lot of the same people so much." She laughs again, then brushes a crumb off Marc's face and pops it into her mouth nonchalantly. "Even if I don't need to worry about you overworking yourself, I will. It'd be really unfair for you and her and... Eeeveryone else that's important to me if I only cared about anyone that's not as strong as us." She yawns after that, letting some of her drowsiness slip through again, even if it's slightly exaggerated for once. "Besides, I wanna spoil you and Phony. Food, haircare, rest, anything else you want, even if you don't really need it. Especially if you don't. That's part of being family, too. " She affirms with a firm nod, giving Marc another clap on the shoulder to urge him onwards.
Angela	Tennant looks at Rook. "Dude, no." Tennant says, "Oh no, I mean, I figured as someone with a Fixer's background--" "Well I mean I get that a word can be violent, a look can be violent, but I don't think that has anything to do with my background..." Rook comments back. Neither really know Marc too well--having known him for precisely two engagements and with the kind of professional slathering that prevents them from getting too close, but Tennant's professional slathering is pretty thin relatively speaking so they are happy to go on and on about martial arts and film. "Well, I suppose that's what those ratings are for." Tennant admits. "I figure kids can tell that film isn't exactly real but that doesn't mean they are unaffected. it's shown that kids can hold onto ideals btter than adults too, right? So I'm not sure that's a hundred percent true, like, even pulling you out from the typical struggles of life doesn't mean you didn't learn about struggle, or even intuitively comprehend it. Adults get good at compromising and they start with compromising on themselves first." They glance towards the waystation and admit, "Well in cinema's defense it's really funny." They blink precisely once. "But yeah, they don't neccessarily have the best grasp on effect yet... Media literacy. Takes some work." Tennant grins, "But if that means I can dial you in on the next one, always down to take suggestions." Tennant's great trauma is Petra telling them that they need to pick better movies and this has, unsurprisingly, manifested in Tennant watching more movies.
Nephra Tangent	'I am curious why this is.' The gut-flinch answer of "Dunno!" jumps out of Nephra's mouth faster than her face can twist itself into an embarrassed grimace- which, too, is short lived before it's back to the hollow not-really-a-smile grin. She doesn't really look Evehime's way, just down and to the right, eyepatched-side of her face hiding the rest of it. "Haha. Think you're thinkin' into it more than me. I just thought it'd tick him off to twist that 'cause it wasn't what he meant. Y'know. The whole 'Who's on first?' sorta thing. I don't think I can even take credit for the joke. Haha. It's old format." Nephra exhales, slow, a pause in her rambling. "It's not like I've got a stake in if he named it all or not. But you both do, right? So." A shoulder shrug caps that off. It shouldn't be so casual to admit to that sort of sentiment, but her focus shifts to crunching the head of her lollipop into dissolving smithereens between molars. "Ain't no philsop- philoso.." Another crunch. "Ain't thinking about it a lot. Don't think it's gotta be some extra secret thing. Just think you don't want it to be." Fingers trace along the wood of the wayhouse table, similar to how she walked her hand across the bridge's railing, as her boots scuffle toe to heel beneath her, carrying her just to move instead of whithering more beneath a glare. The notion that there is patience to wear thin, unfortunately, makes it devestatingly hard to not test the durability of it by force. "If I invented its name, does that mean I get some sorta plaque sayin' so? Like old libraries and stuff? Those are neat." 'I'm sorry,' "Ain't nothing to be sorry 'bout if you're just gonna back down like-" Marc's ensuing exit and gaze meeting her flighty eye causes her, from the sympathetic tone alone, to slow in her aimless pacing and shut off her automatic reply. "Tell you what.. informative? I'm not hiding anything, just- don't look at me like that." She's frozen for a second, quietly chewing at the white cardboard lollipop stick still somehow between her teeth. There isn't quite the same hollow hoarseness in her voice when she puts out a small answer to the final remark, and it comes out almost whining- confused, and embarassed as to not immediately have an understanding of what's suddenly pityable. "...What's that supposed to mean..?"
Evehime Gevurah	'It would be natural, wouldn't it, to 'complete' it with only one? But I would be telling myself a lie.' 'the lesson is of seeing without judging, of perceiving without foreknowledge, if I have grasped it right.' "You have grasped it completely. All that need be done to polish it is work." Evehime says, in warm, sonorous affirmative. "Beyond credit as one of Persephone Hesed's disciples, I am impressed by your ability. Even for myself, a similar task was a year and one day of my own labour and contemplation, when pushed to admit the terminus of my thinking. This cannot be a measure of only your closeness to her, or your resonance with them; you need carefully explain nothing for me to see clearly that you have contemplated this for a very long time." 'Does this mean you'll grant the wish? Or does this mean the wish is already being granted?' "I have brought definition to the desire in his heart. It is subtle, but distinct, that his wish has been sharpened and tempered from mere impulse and yearning into a sequence of movements with an absolute eventuality. In this sense, it is granted already, and this moment is merely some time before that in which he has granted it himself." For some reason, she seems to particularly enjoy speaking to Neutron in this indirect, yet strangely thorough manner. The way in which they ponder it quietly for a while, then display an unexpected degree of comprehension, seems to please her. "But we are, indeed, finished in this place." 'That's the kind of feeling this place needs way more than all that other stuff' "Ultimately, all things built by human hands are made to the specification of 'a feeling'." says Evehime. "This is the sole definition of human craft. The pursuit of a sense felt by other humans . . . Practical and artistic are, too, false dualities. A place of practical comfort is impossible to create, without pursuing the 'feeling' of 'being comfortable'." 'I just don't know what it is that I want, truly, in my heart.' "You are fortunate. This is precisely the lesson that must be learned before looking inward to find a true and pure yearning. Wishes without goals cannot be grasped as long as your understanding of things requires a 'reason' for them to 'be'." 'It's not like I've got a stake in if he named it all or not. But you both do, right? So.' 'Y'know. The whole 'Who's on first?' sorta thing. I don't think I can even take credit for the joke. Haha. It's old format.' "And so, in giving into impulse to defy convention, you have only thoughtlessly chosen another's." says Evehime. Neutral. Strangely light. But just a little dangerous. "Your urge to disrupt, to betray expectations, continues to only succeed in painting over a new and unknown thing with a tired and well-known paradigm. In attempting to prevent others from looking inside of you, by giving them no answer at all, you reveal everything about who you are, where you are from, what you know, and are attentive to, by the very pattern of where you choose to borrow these false and prefashioned answers from." "You have not once refused to answer, nor concealed intent, nor vexed any judgement; rather, you have always brought with you the flag of an old and powerful nation. Delusionally, you live your life the champion of an empire, colonizing all else in its name, and yet believe you are an enigma, without any attachment." There's a brief pause, as Evehime translates a more complex and universal thought, down through layers of more specific interpretation, until it is properly sharpened down to a truly lethal point. "Turn your hair brown, shed that jacket for a suitable dress, lay down your spear, and find a man to wed, if you must insist so strongly that it cannot be escaped."
Evehime Gevurah	'I wished to be nearer to Emery. That brought me one piece, and then another.' Preempting Marc's way out the door, Evehime's hand falls on top of his head. Gently, almost shockingly so, her fingers slide through his hair, and rest on his cheek. The way she looks at him is so bursting with the little bits and pieces of so many different feelings that it's nearly impossible to read. The way she reaches around his back with the other arm, and briefly squeezes him to her chest, is not so difficult at all. "It warms my heart to know that they have invented humans after all." Evehime says, with one long breath. "I would want nothing more for you to continue to do so."