4148/Contact: Escher (2)

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Contact: Escher (2)
Date of Scene: 24 May 2016
Location: Lumiere
Synopsis: Some matters are clarified by speaking to a survivor among the Lit within Escher.
Cast of Characters: Staren, Priscilla, Sarracenia, 513, Count Kord, 974


Carna (974) has posed:
    A library is where the assembled explorers wind up. After a confusing, mind-bending chase through a world of unfixed physics and uncertain perspectives, and Sarracenia nearly falling off a platform into an ocean of ravenous Unlit, and people generally just being bewildered, they've caught a mysterious man, and used his keys that seem to change the destinations of the many doors... To go 'home'. Which is, apparently, a library. Not a huge one, by the looks of it.

    It is a circular room, with dull grey carpet worn through in many places to expose a black stone floor. Shelves that compose or cover the walls, all filled with books, stretch up about 30 feet, though there are also many stacks of books lying around (though in an orderly fashion). Bits and pieces of furniture (which might make the Multiversal explorers immediately wary given the greeting they received in the very first area of this tower) are scattered around as well, but there's fewer of those than there are books.

    Indeed, most of the furniture seems to have been dragged into an adjacent room, through a pair of swinging doors, and barricaded against another set of doors. There's a Shrine of Light, dull and inactive, covered in dust, right in the center of the small room that joins this library to whatever's on the other side of the doors.

    So, aside from the possibility of furniture attacks (which seems unlikely if this is 'home'), the only major concern right now should be the individual they captured. He is still somewhat out of it, though is presently restrained or tied up or similar rendered immobile. He has a big of a hook-nose, string black hair, and thick eyebrows. His attire is a simple robe, its original color indiscernible with the wearing of age and the accumulation of dust upon it. As was determined about him previously, the glow of a life force (death force?) within him is completely different from a Lantern or Unlit, to those with the senses to detect such spiritual signatures. Whereas Carna is like a stolen spark of spiritual matter in a pit of hungering darkness, this man is filled throughout his spirit-flesh with what the Lanterns term 'Light'. He is Lit, and one of the native Dead of Lumiere...

    And people likely have many questions to ask of him.

    Carna seems more interested in the library itself, poking and prodding at things warily, making sure there's no hidden defenses or traps or threats. It pays to be paranoid when just about everything can potentially kill you. So while she does not fail to cast a curious eye upon the Lit man, she trusts that the others can manage him for now.

Sarracenia has posed:
     Sarracenia is busy yelling at him! "Why did you run! Did you think we would just kill you? Were you sent to stop us? Are you protecting the dark secrets of this world? Do you realize you locked me out on a platform which led into a sea of Unlit?! What is wrong with you! What sort of hooligan does that to a princess?! I cannot fault you for not knowing, since you are of this world, but I am Princess Sarracenia Sundew, Crown Princess of the Sundew Kingdom! And we merely seek answers! No harm will come to you unless absolutely necessary!"

     She finally pauses there and takes a deep breath. "Or, of course, if you try to harm us. Now...please." She smiles kindly after that, a very practiced yet seemingly genuine smile. "Tell us how we might navigate this dreadful maze and avoid any more mimics so we might reach the top and discover a path to restoring this world?"

Staren has posed:
    "Oh, cool, a library!" Staren comments as they enter. Sarracenia asks the questions, so he keeps mostly quiet for a moment. "It's true. We just want to know what happened to the Living, and... fix things."

Count Kord has posed:
    By the end of the chase, Kord was also pretty impatient with the man, but he seemed to exude this sense of carefully restrained malice as opposed to the open and passionate shouting that Sarracenia was displaying. He stood somewhere to the side of her, staring at the man almost unblinkingly with his pair of unusual eyes, head turned just slightly to give him a bird-like posture of suspicion.

    He also still has his weapon in his hand.

    "Princess," he speaks, his deep voice hushed in his reminder, "He would be of no use to us if we harmed him." The implication there that it's the only reason he hasn't killed this Dead, especially with that predatory air around him. He didn't seem too offput by Carna's suggestion to cut off his legs, earlier.

    "I think it would be best to introduce ourselves, like the Princess here did. Most of us are Living, the only exception being Carna over there," he says, pointing out the Lantern, "She's a Lantern. If you were running from us because you thought we would want to gobble up your Light, well, most of us just don't do that. So unless you have other reasons to run off whenever you spot someone, I think you would be safest right here in this room full of pushy strangers, since we aren't going to eat you anytime soon."

    He has a strange sense of humor about all of this. Lumiere does that to him. "I'm Kord. I own the ghost that licked you."

Priscilla has posed:
    Priscilla would be lying if forced to say that she feels perfectly okay with the amount of furniture in this room. Common sense dictates that this might be one of the few places in this hellhole tower that isn't infested with mimics however (though she looks at that shrine of light pretty suspiciously), and so she takes a chance with restraining their temporary captive to one. He's something of an unattractive fellow, but it looks like he's probably done well considering he's been living out of this progressively more threadbare library for what could perhaps be hundreds of years, and Priscilla knows that humans are a lot less able to 'zen out' than she is, though now she wonders if the Lit need to eat or not.

    She goes as far to gently place a hand on Sarracenia's shoulder at the tail end of her fretful tirade, waiting patiently as she regains her composure, and probably for the poor guy to come around properly enough to answer th question(s). "Mine apologies for being so ill-introduced, but it is unseemly for an innocent man to flee from benign visitors. Now, if thou wouldst, art thou the only one left residing within this tower? If thou hast cut off this shrine for fear of the Lanterns, where is it that these doors taketh thee? For what purpose dost thou remaineth here, aside from simple fear of the outside?"

Carna (974) has posed:
    When the man finally regains his awareness, paralysis and fatigue fading... He squints up at Sarracenia yammering at him, and then haltingly turns his head from where he has been laid on a faded red smoking couch of sorts, to look at Kord, and then to Priscilla, and then over at Staren, and then he flinches when he looks at Carna. His brow furrows as he looks back to everyone in turn, before focusing on Sarracenia. His voice is raspy as though it hasn't been used in a very long time, when he finally speaks, a somewhat haughty English accent to his words. "...You're actual PEOPLE? And alive!?" He tries to sit up, but is restrained, and his momentary look of euphoric happiness and disbelief is quickly replaced with a dour scowl. He looks back to the princess, and asks, "Why did I run? Why did you CHASE me if you had no ill-intent would be a better question! Further, why would did you bring THAT thing with you!?" He indicates Carna with a jerk of his head, even though she has already moved around the room and out of sight from his position. "You're... Do you really have no idea what happened here?--No, I suppose that wouldn't be surprising if you've been surviving all this time and somehow made it down to Lumiere. How did you--" He cranes his head again to squint at Kord, looking at him closely and finding he doesn't much care for his aspect apparently and is fairly intimidated by it, because he finds elsewhere to look.

    "Listen, it has been a very, very, very long time since I have spoken to another person. I am more than a bit overwhelmed, and I am loathe to speak until that monster has been disposed of. I would also very much like to be able to sit up in my own home, and without being tied up. If you can manage the disposal of the creature, we can discuss all this like reasonable..." He looks towards Staren briefly in confusion and finishes politely, "...Beings." He DOES seem pretty overwhelmed. He has just had a lot of information dumped on him, accusations made, threats levelled, etcetera.

    Carna has not missed what has been said about her and as she steps away from a bookshelf, the sound of a knife being pulled out of a sheathe rings through the room as she begins walking at a measured pace towards the Lit man's current place of rest. It's unlikely due to taking offense, if past behavior is anything to judge by, but there aren't a lot of good reasons to be pulling a knife in here, are there?

Staren has posed:
    Staren shrugs with his hands out to his side. Why the pause? "We chased you because we wanted to know what your deal was and you weren't exactly standing around to chat. Sorry. We didn't kill you, at least! So what's your deal, are you a Living, a Lantern, or what?" He scans the mystery man for lifesigns and body heat.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord turns his head to note Carna's approach. In lieu of warning anyone just yet, he simply returns his look to the Lit and lets out a long sigh. The way he cut himself off when Kord was in focus tells the Count that he's unlikely to be the one to get answers out of the man. "Hmm. You won't talk to ME, hardly a new problem I hate to admit, so I'll just be taking this while the others talk to you in their various ways," he says, stepping forward to relieve him of the book he had on his person before, say, someone with a knife gets it covered in blood. Blood makes books very hard to read. Gets them all red and soggy.

    "You might want to stop her," he mentions to the others by way of distraction, gesturing toward Carna with his off hand, consequently pointing with the blade of his battle scythe. He's not gonna stop her himself.

    Unless otherwise interrupted, he would go about opening the book and flipping through it, appearing to just be thumbing through the pages at random, pausing here and there to read a page.

Sarracenia has posed:
     Sarracenia blinks at Kord, then smirks. "Are you informing me, or reminding yourself?" she asks the dark man before she looks over as Priscilla places a hand on her shoulder. She smiles appreciatively before looking back to the man and awaiting his answers, should he see fit to provide any.

     She is surprised to hear him demand that Carna be killed, then again when Carna draws a knife. "H-hey!" The princess quickly interposes herself between Carna and the man, arms held out to her sides to block the Lantern. "No one is going to kill anyone here! Do you all understand that?" she says in the demanding and loud way a royal does. "We are here for answers, not bloodshed. Or...esssence-shed. Whatever." She looks over her shoulder at the man. "Carna was our escort here. She wishes to restore this world from one of only death and destruction to one of life. If that is possible. So, no, we will not kill her just because you say it is needed. So far, she has been helpful. If a bit stoic."

     She looks to Carna after that. "Put that knife away. We captured this man, which means his life is now our responsibility. I will not have you harming him without a very good reason." she says. Her eyes flick to her hammer, which is resting a short distance away against a wall, then back to Carna.

Priscilla has posed:
    To give Carna the benefit of a doubt, Priscilla has an idea of why Carna would want to pull a knife. It'd be safer if she didn't with one of her own, and so when she leans over the battered old sofa, it's to sharply twist the lead knot with her fingers and break it with force rather than sawing through it with something sharp, pulling the rest of the rope off yard by yard. They have the guy here, and he's not trying to bolt. It's only polite at this point. She looks askance to Kord taking his book, but if it's just another piece of literature the man had for entertainment, there's no sense making a fuss about it yet. If he indicates that book is really important, well . . .

    "People, yes; alive, mostly so; because if we had dawdled behind, it is most likely we wouldst hath never met thee again." She doesn't even have to check Carna out to know why he's unhappy about her being here. "More precisely, it was she who brought us along, or to be even moreso, it is she who kneweth anything of this place to beginneth with. She is with us because Lumiere is her own land and not ours, and so it benefits us to bear a guide." She lets the princess go ahead with her piece, since she's more willing to vouch for the Lantern than Priscilla herself is. "Asides, it is not certain that we may interact with these echoes and murmurs and lights and other such terms in any meaningful way, being not of the dead ourselves."

Carna (974) has posed:
    When the book is taken from him, the moody man looks Kord up and down warily and says, "By all means, help yourself to my belongings. Be seated while you are at it." Then he tries to turn when he hears the sound of a weapon being drawn, appreciating that Sarracenia is interposing herself between him and the Lantern, but apparently objecting on other levels. "...You think that's a PERSON? Do you all not know what that thing IS? That monster is why the tower was sealed off in the first place!--Well, not that one specifically, but their KIND at least! Listen..." He tries to roll onto his side to look at Priscilla.

    "I apologize for running, but when the last time I was around other people involved them getting eaten by THOSE--" again with the head jerking. "--I believe I had cause for concern. For all I knew, all of Lumiere was gone to the monsters!"

    Carna has slowed her approach, but not stopped it. "Let us assume that those assembled decided they wanted the information this wretch has more than they want me around. In such an instance, I believe it would be prudent to be armed. I am not making judgments about any of you. But I do not make a habit of leaving my safety up to chance when there are conflicts of interest that could render me 'an acceptable loss'. I do not believe I will be disarming myself at this time. My apologies, princess." She does finally stop, however, and let those with a less visceral involvement handle the negotiations.

    The man on the couch seems to be paying little attention to Carna outside of the fact she seems to be a danger to him. "That is NOT a person! It's a creature that is feigning personhood by using the memories of ACTUAL people to emulate us! Can't you see that? I've no idea what a 'Lantern' is, but if that's what you call those things, then you'd best be prepared to do away with any concept that they aren't the same as the other monsters!"

    After a pause to catch his breath (for all the good that breath does for someone whose body is made of spirit-stuff), he takes stock of himself and says, "My name is Enark. Or I think at least. All I've had here for the longest time is my collection and I've spent long periods of time being other people just for a change. I am a custodian of the Library of Knowledge, or I suppose the ONLY one remaining, because EVERY SINGLE OTHER PERSON HERE WAS EATEN." He raises his voice as he directs it off in the direction of Carna.

    Carna shakes her head, and finally puts her knife away. She has gotten as much as she can hope for in terms of promises of her safety.

    "What was that!? Is it drawing another weapon!?" Enark asks panickedly as Priscilla undoes his bindings.

    Carna retorts with uncharacteristic annoyance, "I was putting it away, idiot."

    "And now hostile language! You see what I'm up against!?" he rails against the injustice, though now that he is unbound and rubbing his wrists, he can sit up and turn to keep an eye on the Lantern. "

    To Kord's perusal, it seems the book is... A bunch of bad jokes. 'Knock knock.' 'Who's there?' 'Dishes.' 'Dishes who?' 'Dishes a very bad joke.' Etc.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Enark pauses in all his protesting to look at everyone again. "If you can keep the monster on whatever chain you choose to do so with, I will just have to cooperate it appears. I am not so clueless as to be unable to recognize I can not match you in force of arms, nor would I wish to. If you wished it, I could not stop you all from killing me." He glares at Carna. "I just hope you will keep THAT from killing me in exchange for my aid."

    If Carna's eyes were visible in the shadow beneath her hat, she'd be seen rolling them. She really is going to have to let the others handle the diplomacy here.

    Enark says, "So, you said you were... Sarah, and Condor, and Precious, and... Who were you again?" he asks as he squints at Staren, still trying to make sense of his silhouette. "I am actually surprised you were able to make it through all the Monstrous Invader Murdering Incognito Constructs I created to guard the tower. Though I am glad to see that apparently monsters are not able to without assistance. Though I am even more amazed that any living people remain. Given the catastrophe we had to deal with, I'd been told that everyone up there was down here with us now." Clearing his throat, Enark says, "Let me take your questions one at a time so that I might ask some of my own."

    Enark gathers himself for a few moments and then says, "I believe I have answered why the tower is guarded and why I ran and who I am. What else did you wish to know?" He gestures towards Kord and says, "I would offer to tell you some jokes, but my favorite book of them appears to have been borrowed, by the gentleman over there." It appears that, aura of Death or not, he at least recognizes Count Kord as different from a Lantern. Odd that the Lanterns have a more difficult time differentiating.

Finna (513) has posed:
"Hey, hey. If we're in the guy's house don't be rude. He's already tied up. Observe some manners. Hospitality goes two ways, especially when uninvited!" Finna grumps over at Kord. It is, perhaps, one of the few things of PRINCIPLE that she has stated to be for.

    Hospitality's a sacred tradition among her people, after all.

    Finna emerges from behind Priscilla. How she's managed to stay quietly there the whole while's hard to say, but she gives Enark a friendly wave. For the moment she's in human form, though her tattoos are hidden by illusion and so is her Tell - Enark may have trouble seeing the latter, though most here can probably manage if they focus hard enough on what they know should be there.

    "Finna Snowdancer. Most Lanterns are not friendly. Carna is an exception. What they did, they did without knowledge. NOW they have knowledge, and that makes them as much a person as they might be a monster. Carna can think and speak and choose, and they've chosen to not backstab everyone in sight yet. That's more than I can say about MOST of the creatures infesting that sorry town. You might well be in the kindest company in all of Lumiere!"

Sarracenia has posed:
     Sarracenia huffs softly as Carna speaks of defending herself. "You certainly have a right to be armed, but brandishing arms in a peaceful situation is in bad taste." she says, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her nose up slightly at Carna. The princess blinks as she is called 'Sarah', then huffs again. "Sarracenia. -Princess- Sarracenia. Sarra is a nickname reserved only for my friends, and we are at best still aquaintances." she says to Enark. She nods at his ending comments, then looks at Kord. "It is perhaps a good thing that he practice his sense of humor. He is far too somber and serious." she says before looking at Enark again. "It is true we encountered several Lanterns that were quite willing to dispatch us, as well as nightmarish creatures that devoured everything in their path, but as Finna says, Carna is different. At least...she seems to be. Even if her memories are stolen, they are making her as much a person as anyone else now. And I for one do not know how to put memories back in someone, so it seems just as well that they are being put to some good use."

     Sarra tries to think of questions after that. "Well...you said that there were at one time people on the surface of this world, and beneath it. Are you the only 'person' left in this world? And, when did these monsters start appearing? Do you know where they came from?"

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord doesn't return the book. He spares a glance at Enark, almost imperious in his disapproval of the man's mangling of his name, and then he turns to explore the rest of the room as if looking for something more interesting to read. His lazy demeanor has returned, and eventually he carelessly stuffs the book onto one of the shelves. He makes sure to carefully avoid the furniture in the room while he wanders. It's easy to see why he's hard to distinguish from a Lantern, at least when it comes to the other Lanterns.

    "Lanterns don't seem to have memory. They write it all down in journals," he explains, his attention elsewhere, "They may have the ghost of an identity, but they are not simply mimics like the beings that fill this place. A predator must eat to live, after all, and that's what the Unlit appear to be: dark predators in many cases not fated to think beyond their boundless hunger. The few that are, like the individuals in this room, were blessed with the chance to reason with others."

    "I agree with them. Lanterns are people. That they are driven by hunger makes them no different than the Living, with our greed and gluttony..." he muses aloud, until he finds a book that seems to shut him up for a minute. Something picked at random, not really anything he was searching for.

Staren has posed:
    Staren blinks as the mystery man goes on about Carna not being a person. He shrugs and sighs. "I don't care how she came to be. She didn't choose that, did she? But she's a person now." He sighs again. "Please stop calling her an it. That's not nice." He folds his arms. "I'm Staren, and I'm a Living from another world. You're a Living too, then? Wait... MIMICs? Really?"

Priscilla has posed:
    Priscilla seems less eager to argue that point, though she more than anyone should be able to, and would have the most personal investment in doing so. Perhaps the reason she could is the reason she doesn't. "Labour under no misconceptions, we, or at least some of us, art entirely aware of the lady's nature. I believeth that she is as well, to some extent. Regardless, there were no others forthcoming. Even asserting that she is less than human, humans hath been known to maketh use of such throughout their entire history. An inarguably, fully realized person is not necessary to scout, guide, search and fight. If it wouldst comfort thee in any way, imagine her as a trained animal, rather than assuming her an insane murderer out for thine blood." Cold. Halfway right though. Even Carna knows that so many people being here means that she doesn't have the luxury of trying to jump the guy's throat even if she wanted to.

    "Thou shalt be gladdened to knoweth that there art others, here and there, though hardly many, and largely restricted to the clergy. As for the living, it is a long and complex tale, but also be gladdened to knoweth that they yet exist in some form or another. As for the monsters . . ." she pauses hesitantly. "I am certain thou must hath had much free time by thineself."

    "If thou wouldst address thineself as Enark, than we shalt do so likewise, and thou may addresseth mineself by Priscilla. As for questions, I shalt taketh the offered answers to those, and then posit what this place hast to do with the Lords of Silence, and perhaps also its original, intended purpose, if unrelated." She pauses briefly. "And as well if this library were to contain any maps."

Carna (974) has posed:
    Enark startles at Finna's appearance. Both in the 'emerging from concealment' sense and the 'how she looks' sense. But he eventually just kind of... Accepts it. Or at leat moves on without dwelling on it. In answer, he says coldly to Finna and Sarracenia, "When every friend, co-worker, and person you know has been eaten and the resulting abominations then masquerade at being them, even as they evidence signs of the behavior and memories of those they just murdered, reminding you of how they're gone and what destroyed them, then you can lecture me on whether I should accept the monsters as 'people' or not. I am tolerating its presence for now. That will have to suffice."

    He does stay silent for a time when Kord explains his own views, and Priscilla hers, and Enark actually... Inclines his head in curt acknowledgement. "I suppose that is one way of looking at it." He spares an unwilling glance at Carna before looking back to the count and then the crown-wearing woman. "It will take time to divest myself of the emotional entanglements associated with... The incident. I remain unconvinced by anecdotal evidence, but in the absence of anything more quantifiable, I shall give you the benefit of the doubt in regard to your own experiences. Just please know that mine have been... Very different."

    He sits up straighter in his seat, and adjusts his ratty robe, and takes in a deep breath and lets it out. "It is a pleasure to meet other thinking beings again, Finna Snowdancer, Princess Sarracenia, Count... Uhh... von Count? Staren, and Priscilla." He looks towards Staren and says, "No, I used to be alive. I died a very long time ago. I just kept my memories rather than stealing them." He then considers the question asked by the princess.

    "Well, yes. There were, or, I suppose, ARE, people alive on planet Earth. Or so I'd assumed before Mister Staren asserted he's from another world. Did you all move to Mars or some thing?" He shrugs and says, "It was the 24th Century when I died. I don't know the current status of Lumiere. I've been here for a very long time, you see. When the monsters originally appeared, I was still maintaining a collection of clocks." He turns towards Count Kord and asides, "Keeping track of time was discouraged, you know. It made it harder to reincarnate due to ties to this temporary existence in Lumiere before we were doused in the waters of the River Lethe by the Witches of Hades to erase our memories. The Dead do not inherently have a time sense, which makes it easier to let eons pass without awareness, but the wait got to be SOOOO boring that I collected and restored destroyed clocks as a hobby."

Carna (974) has posed:
    Then he remembers who he was speaking to originally, and without pause, he turns back to Sarracenia. "So there was some big incident, as I recall it, where the Lords of Silence did something or other about ascending or some such, and something died up there and appeared down here, and climbed up from the Underworld--" he turns to Priscilla then for another aside. "That's beneath Lumiere, along with a lot of other locations, such as Hades and Hell and Heaven and whatever other names one might want to call them by. Some of them overlap, and others are nothing like what you might think. We really had a lot of things mixed up when we were alive. Quite the shock to discover, but also not that surprising. After all, how could people who had never even been here know what it was like? What scarce knowledge we had was, I have heard it theorized, some form of mythic resonance."

    Then back to Sarracenia. "But regardless, the thing that climbed up to Lumiere was apparently not a normal spirit or Dead or whatever one would call it. It was like one of those--Or rather, like... 'Carna'. A being that was called... Oh, what was it..." He gets up, and says, "Don't remaining standing on my account. Have a seat anywhere!" As Kord moves about looking for something else to read while avoiding the furniture, it appears to have been a good idea, because a recliner lunges at him, its cushions opening to reveal quadruple rows of spike-like teeth and huge red tongue. It is stopped short by a heavy chain bolted into the floor, but it keeps trying persistently for several seconds as Enark raises his voice to say, "EXCEPT there! That's Wilson, the prototype for the others. I'm sorry to not have introduced him earlier. He's been my sole companion in all this, and as one might imagine, he is not exactly the most talkative." Oh, so a MIMIC counts as a person, but not something that can actually talk.

    Well, he at least seems willing to start changing his views or accepting others have different ones on that topic. But given how much he is talking, and how energetically, maybe he's just glad not to be alone anymore and doing whatever he can to make sure he isn't abandoned.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Enark then starts looking around the room for a book, sorting through one after another, taking the book of jokes that Kord put on the shelf thoughtlessly and slotting it somewhere it apparently belongs. "Let's see... Let's see... Ah, here." He picks up a book title, 'Glossary of Deathly Terms'. "Hmm... Ah! The First Lantern! I thought the term sounded familiar, but I'd never heard it applied except to some mythic personage. Yes, well." He walks back to the couch with the book in hand, leafing through it. "The Library of Knowledge, the full name of which is the Library of Murdered Knowledge, but I never much cared for that title, is where everything that has ever been written or recorded has been assembled after its physical destruction." he answers in regard to Priscilla's question, before remembering he's still answering Sarracenia's.

    "Oh, right, yes. Well! It appears based on the good news from Miss Priscilla, that there are indeed still people in Lumiere. So there was the bit about the First Lantern I have yet to finish speaking on, but I believe I have answered the other questions."

    Then he focuses on Priscilla herself and says, "The Lords of Silence are... Well... Hm. Are you familiar with the concept of the 'four classical elements'? Wind, Earth, Fire, and Water? And I would like to preface this explanation, and all others, by saying I was one of the youngest among the Blue Scholars, and with most of the Library closed off to me for a very long while, I still do not have access to the sum total of all human knowledge as one might expect from my time here. I do not know everything. Only what I could consolidate here before I barricaded the door and filled the area with, yes, 'MIMIC's to use the acronym."

Finna (513) has posed:
"Familiar with something close to it. Fire, Earth, Air, Water, and Wood in my world... yes, world. Some of us are from stranger places than Earth, scholar. There's an Underworld for my home... 'planet' too. Nothing to do with this one and Lumiere!"

    Finna, standing sidewys on to Enark, leans over forward with her head turned his way. Her ears twitch a few times.

    "Been there a few times. nasty place. And tolerate is all I ask. One Lord for each Element then? Lord of Fire, Lord of Earth?"

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord drops the book and immediately strikes a posture like he's going to eviscerate the hungry piece of furniture. He doesn't get the chance, though, because the chains keep it restrained and he'd rather not waste effort trying to kill something that's no immediate danger to him. He does breathe a heavy sigh as his muscles untense and it makes his sore bruises complain.

    "Okay, that got me," he mumbles, crouching to retrieve the book again. He makes note of the creature's anatomy, and how it's anchored to the wall. "Wilson, huh."

    "And these things don't attack you?" he wonders over to Enark, finally curious how he's survived in this hellhole full of living objects for however long.

Staren has posed:
    Staren listens to Enark, not sure what to say about his experiences. He nods at the comment of 'How could people know about the afterlife without having been there?' And then has a 'what' expression at the explanation of the library of dead knowledge. "I knew it wasn't really true that you can't kill an idea, but this is ridiculous. What /else/ can die and end up here, if abstract concepts go to the afterlife too? If someone admires someone else and then finds out they aren't so great, do the ideal of that person and the pedastal it was put on come down here too?"

Sarracenia has posed:
     "You have been alone here for untold eons..?" Sarracenia says softly, sounding sympathetic. She listens to the rest of the explanation, except when she yelps and leaps back as Wilson suddenly leaps at Kord. She almost leaps for her hammer before realizing the thing is chained up. She gives the furniture piece an uneasy look, but slowly relaxes. "So...Wilson is your man-eating pet?" she asks, her confusion on why anyone would keep such a thing a pet soon replaced by the understanding of loneliness. She suffers from it quite often, though she thanks the stars that she has never had to adopt a monsterous creature in order to survive the loneliness. Maybe if she'd been locked in a tower for a long time...

     The princess shakes her head to clear those thoughts, "Why are they called the Lords of Silence?"

Priscilla has posed:
    "Believeth mineself whence I say that the experience is far from unfamiliar." Priscilla responds in a suddenly rather dark turn to Enark's angry lamenting, though she goes no further. "We need not thee like Carna, but only that thou ignore her for the time being." She doesn't need to be convinced that he's one of the former living though. She can tell on her own.

    What does surprise her is the volume and specificity of knowledge he actually possesses. Longita had been very vague and somewhat confused, though perhaps simply sheltered, about her awareness of events. This man here, going by Enark, knows exactly where he is, what he's doing there, and what has gone on. Not only do they instantly have vastly more context on Lumiere's geography and the structure of the world that apparently exists beyond it, but some further context on how this world's afterlife cycle is meant to function, and some insight into the 'lives' of the dead, especially concerning what they kept; vivid, sharp, specific memories, rather than the jumbled nonsense Carna half-remembers. Not only that, but very concrete placement on what this mythical world above is, or rather was, and /when/ it was.

    "I am vaguely aware of such." she replies in response to the question of the classic alchemical elements. It wasn't a Thing in her world, but it's common enough that she's encountered it by now. "I supposeth this wouldst all go a great way towards explaining what was beyond that door in particular. Nevertheless, thou supposeth that something that was slain in the . . . World of Ashes, was it? Was responsible for this world's all but total destruction? I imagine it wouldst be quite something if it were unwelcome both in the world of the living and the dead."

    Library of murdered knowledge. Church of bleak mercy. This place continues to have such fun names. "Thou said that thine own Earth was of the twenty fourth century, yes? Where wouldst be find knowledge that was destroyed long after books ceased to be made?" Her guess is the mausoleum of corrupted data, or maybe the .pdf of vengeful revenents.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Enark raises a finger and opens his mouth but then just closes it and lowers his hand in response to Finna's words. "I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," he finally says, "Unless you are saying you are from... Another universe or something. Which sounds like something I heard a long time ago. Multiverse theory or some such? As for the Lords, I again wish to stress I do not know even a fraction of what others might. This is a very old place. But no, from what I understand, there WERE Elements with physical forms a very long time ago. There still might be. But their... 'Deathly forms' are somewhat different. Depending on the source, there were either four or eight Lords of Silence, each representing various things. I recall reading there were four pairs, with each pair consisting of one male and one female, though what their species was I could not say. Some claimed they were formed when the essence of Albion, the primordial human, was divided into four pieces, each with two aspects which manifested as individuals. Which would make them less like elemnents and more like incarnations of... I suppose you could call it... 'Humanity'."

    Enark then shrugs and says, "But then there are names of the original Lords of Silence which belonged to beings that supposedly existed long before them, which throws that origin story into question. Names like 'Los' and 'Urizen', who were supposedly around at the Beginning. Los, for instance, is said to have formed the concepts that led to the existence of humans. So how could he have been formed from the ultimate incarnation of that which he himself contributed to the making of? There's all kinds of things like that, and I have not had the chance to research and clarify." He looks towards Sarracenia and says, "The original Lords of Silence may not have even been called such. But while the Elements existed among them, they also held sway over other matters. 'Imagination' and 'Reason' and things of that nature. Tharmas, the Mystic Painter, is the Lord who governed the divine aspect of 'Sensation'. He is the Lord whom the Blue Scholars revere, and as he was a pacifist, so to is our Order devoted to maintaining the peaceful pursuit of knowledge. This tower was buuilt by him originally. Or painted into existence, I suppose is the proper term. Well!"

    Enark has sat back down by now, after looking towards Wilson to make sure the mimic is settling down and not killing anyone, as he sidetracks himself to say, "There's a chain on him for a reason. I could not be certain if he would attack me or not after being activated. And I have not been able to get him out of here on my own ever since he was. The MIMICs are as much a threat to me as to you, I assure you." He then refocuses on the subject at hand. Or tries. "Where was I..."

Carna (974) has posed:
    "Ah, yes! Apparently, there was some mighty apocalypse or ascendance or somesuch, that led to them 'leaving' somewhere. I do not know where. Maybe one of these other worlds or universes you speak of. Maybe some distant foreign land here within the Underworld. But they left, and so there was an enormous void to fill. And so the Lords of Silence who replaced them had to make-do with only fragments of power. The deathly forms of the powers that used to exist. Their powers are rather... Well... Hollow by comparison. But still far more than anything I could wield. There are only four of them, as well. There was..." He starts ticking them off on his fingers. "Maretta, of the Hollow Children. King Solmnus, Monarch of the Blackened Crown. The Seer of the River Styx. And the Eyes of the Asher. And they were supposed to make sure that no more like the First Lantern ever crawled up to Lumiere."

    He then finally leans towards Staren and says, "I'm getting to that. And you probably will not like the answer." Then he looks to Priscilla and opens his mouth only to close it again as he hunches over somewhat, his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing together, fingers interlacing and then separating, his eyes searching for anything to look at other than the people he's talking to. He's apparently nervous about discussing this.

    Eventually, he looks towards Priscilla once more and says, "Lumiere has a problem." Understatement of the century.

Carna (974) has posed:
    "It was designed as a vessel for reincarnation. Because anything that 'dies' winds up here. Concepts, beasts, people, animals, objects, structures, even fragmentary portions such as the cells that came from a larger organism. And while this realm is vast, it has its limits to how much it can contain all at once. So the idea was to send them back via a complex system of reincarnation. Some realms would rather keep or enlarge their population, for whatever reason, such as what we called 'Heaven' and 'Hell', but which probably were not really connected to a specific religion nor even bear those specific names. But needless to say, they are or were in contest with each other for greater populations of spirits and the control over Eternity that resulted from such."

    He gestures helplessly and says, "It was one billion years after the supposed death of everything that lived when I lost access to the clocks I was maintaining. I have no idea how much time has passed since then. But when all living things died, it was theorized that they flooded the Underworld, stretched it beyond its capacity. It happened without warning. I did not know how accurate these claims were, but as rumors of disaster and monsters became more and more widespread, I retreated to Escher, convinced that through the knowledge in the Library, and the wisdom of the Blue Scholars, we could find a solution."

    Enark then looks towards Carna. "And then the 'Unlit' happened. And I have not been outside since. I do not know if the Lords failed in their tasks or not. But Lumiere was relatively secure when Lord Tharmas still held his post."

Carna (974) has posed:
    "All writings, all knowledge. Memories, computers, carved stone tablets... All forms of records and knowledge. Somewhere in this tower, though finding anything specific is another matter." Enark tacks on.

Count Kord has posed:
    When Enark begins speaking at length about the finer details of Lumiere's purpose and what the Lords of Silence are supposed to do, Kord gives him much more rapt attention. There's a slow nod as he notes the danger of the MIMIC beings, as he names off several of the Lords, as he says that something happened an unimaginable amount of time ago and that led to the death of all things in the living world.

    "Hmm."

    "No wonder this whole world stinks of the unnatural," he murmurs, probably the last of his comments for the night.

Priscilla has posed:
    "As I hath said, it wouldst be very time consuming and difficult to explaineth right at this very moment." Priscilla insists again to trying to drop the Multiverse bomb, though Enark seems better equipped to deal with it than most. Despite taking the mixture of grandiloquent, esoteric, and downright occultic names in stride, she can't help but bristle slightly at the mention of a 'primordial human'. "And so we art to look for this second generation of Lords, assuming the first art far gone and beyond hope of finding, yes? Though to be truthful, I hath seen only three, and I knoweth not which was missing. As we art to understandeth however, they hath not as much failed as willfully abdicated."

    The rest causes her expression to turn significantly more grim, which is an accomplishment to make her expression turn much of anything. "I see." she begins plainly. "That is a significantly longer time than we were to expecteth." She herself is barely over a thousand years old, and that's almost half her world's significant history. "So it wouldst not be enough if the Unlit were simply to be expulsed beyond Lumiere's borders. At the very least, if nothing remains above here, there is nothing left to die, but that there is ought elsewhere than this place in which anything of use to us is contained is . . ." She's not entirely sure she wants to go all the way down there to poke at something called Hell. The spoke she had briefly glimpsed through the eldritch door had been enough to sink in Lumiere's size on its own.

    "Then I supposeth we shalt hath to enlist thine aid in further scouring this tower. However, there is one last thing I had meant to asketh of thee." she gestures upwards vaguely, but gravely. "What, precisely, is it that bleeds at the peak of this tower?"

Finna (513) has posed:
"Billion... billion..." Finna stops pacing and instead starts writing on the floor. Or... scribing something with a finger, anyways. She's not using typical numerals for whatever math she's doing. the glowing silver marks in the ground are of a very different runic design but at least seem to be base 10 if anyone studies it... "Hundred... thousand... ten thousand... hundred thousand... million... I don't know how to count any higher than that!" The 'ink' she's writing with just glows. It doesn't even seem to have real substance...

Sarracenia has posed:
     Sarracenia seems overwhelmed by the very idea of existing for so long in a secluded place. She can't believe that Enark is still sane! Not to mention, the caretakers of the world, both the living world and the world of the dead, have abandoned it! "Enark..." she says, obvious sympathy in her voice. She reaches and gives him a pat on the shoulder. "You have done amazingly even to last this long! I am called crazy by some, and I have only existed for about 19 years! How have you maintained your sanity?" she asks before noticing Finna writing. Sarra walks over and crouches down, then pokes at three more places in front of the 'million' mark. "It is 1000 million." she says to Finna, smiling gently. "A very, very long time. And apparently even several of those have passed."

     Sarracenia shakes her head at the idea again, then looks at Enark. "Enark...what was that golden tower in the distance when we were on that platform apparently outside of this tower? It seemed as though the darkness...or the Unlit...were climbing it. Steadily blotting it out with their overwhelming numbers. Why would they be so intent on climbing it?"

Staren has posed:
    "That's exactly it," Staren nods, "We're from other universes with completely different metaphysical laws! Where most of us come from, when you die, your body stops moving and your mind and spirit go on to... some afterlife or other. We don't know about most of them, honestly."

    When Enark points out conflicting origin stories of Los, Staren adds, "I've totally seen stable time loops before, too. Still not sure what meta-causes them..."

    Enark then describes Lumier's problem. "So the underworld was overfilled and all Hell broke loose, huh?" He glances around. "I liked it better as a physics joke than as reality."

    Staren considers this for a moment. "Well... With this new information... about alternate universes and such... and our quest... what do /you/ want to do? I mean, if you're tired of living here, we can take you to other worlds, although we'd appreciate if you stayed in touch to advise us on Lumiere matters."

Carna (974) has posed:
    Carna, for all the being ignored she's been getting, which she is honestly okay with. She is used to 'being unobserved' meaning 'being safe'. If there are no calls for her immediate destruction, then she can devote her time to writing as quickly as she can everything that's being said, in her journal. Just as Finna tries to work out the math, the Lantern frantically tries to record everything so it won't be lost to her. Some things, she allows to lapse from her mind. The passing of time for example. It's easier not bothering to recall days and years and centuries and all the rest. From the sound of it, it was easier on Enark when he stopped having clocks to check as well.

    Or maybe it was harder. She doesn't know. But all this about the history of Lumiere, the names of the Lords of Silence, these 'Orders', and all the rest... She wants to record that. If something happens to Enark while they explore the rest of the tower, a huge amount of information could be lost.

    Speaking of Enark, he looks up at Priscilla's gesturing, and then back to her. His eyes catch on something on the way down that makes him frown though, before he answers. "That would be a Dragon. It fell from somewhere above. One of the other Planes, perhaps, though the one closest to Barrowville is Villa de Plaguen, and I've never heard of any Dragons there. I do not know the cause of its fall, but it was impaled on the tower already during one of the last times I was able to enter the Library before I barricaded the entrance. It might have appeared in Lumiere when everything else in the world died. It's not as though we had dragons running around when I was alive. So the concept of one dying..." He then turns and squints at the door he has propped all the furniture against. "...Though I can not recall why I closed that door off to begin with. It's been so long... And what is that little tower thing there on the floor in front of it?"

Carna (974) has posed:
    So the Shrine of Light is unfamiliar to him? Even after spending so much time here?

    Speaking of time, even as he looks towards Finna, that thoughtful frown still on his face, Sarracenia pats him on the shoulder. He is only surprised and touched by the display of sympathy and comforting. Considering the complete and total absence of any human contact, he is probably quite pleased to just be around people again. "...I apologize for locking you in that place. I was panicking and thought that was the best way to halt a pursuit. And the structure you describe would be the base of Lumiere. That is not a place I visit often, for obvious reasons. All those things down there... Those are what are crawling up even now. For all I knew, they had already filled all of Lumiere with their numbers. One look at them swarming was enough to dash any hope of stepping outside these walls ever again."

    He gestures around. As Sarracenia goes to help Finna do math, Enark looks at Priscilla's crown again. He seems to be looking quite intently at it. Something is right on the tip of his tongue. Staren derails his trail of thought, and he glances over. "I'm not sure if I can leave. Either this tower or Lumiere. I'm dead. This is all a lot to take in, and as Miss Priscilla has indicated other worlds may not be the best thing to address right now, when this one is still so broken. I have spent... So much time here. Attending to these books, closed off from all the others. I am, as far as I know, the only surviving member of the Blue Scholars. This is a tower holding ALL human knowledge. Someone has to be its custodian. If I could just wander the Library again, I could spend another million years here easily. Maybe longer."

    Then he looks around at everyone. "I'll gladly offer any aid I can. But unless my Order, the Blue Scholars, becomes considerably larger in population, I would be abandoning a duty I have held for eons to leave without anyone to replace me. Can you imagine if the Unlit got into this place? How much would be lost? Of course, you all are welcome to join the Blue Scholars and assist me. We have Murmurs available only to us, and the knowledge here if we could just secure the Library that you could benefit from..."

Carna (974) has posed:
    Then Enark stares at Priscilla's crown blankly. "...I have seen that design before." he says in a monotone. Then he leaps up, running for a book shelf, and has to jump back as Wilson lunges at him, snapping and biting and trying to grab him with its tongue. "Damn you, Wilson!" Enark yells back at the Mimic, before picking up a chair and using it to force the mimic back as he reaches with his other hand for a huge black book on one of the shelves. After some lion-taming attempts with the chair, using another chair, he eventually gets the book just in time for Wilson to bite the wooden chair into pieces.

    Enark runs back over, plopping the book down on a table and says, "The Book of Los. Prophetic writings composed here in Lumiere. That crown, that crown... I've seen it, I've seen it..."

    He flips quickly through the pages, and then finds the exact or near-exact crown that Priscilla is wearing, illustrated on a page, along with some words. "Ah, here it is." He clears his throat and recites the writings.

    "She, Queen of two nations,
    Dweller within the Canvas,
    Hidden among ash and snow.

    "Blade of Eternity. Heart
    Of Mirrors. Flesh of the
    Betrayer and of Light.

    "She shall Choose a Champion.
    And they will Speak
    To the Abyss.

    "And it shall Answer."

    Enark frowns and then looks up at Priscilla. Then to everyone else here. "...It appears the Eternal Prophet did not leave Lumiere absent of guidance after all."

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord turns his head slowly, more shocked by this than by anything else that's been said, because it seems to directly reference Priscilla in particular, at least from what very little he can see of her, especially because it's her that reminds Enark of it. And then his head turns to focus on the book that Enark is holding, and he regards it somewhat critically from where he's standing as if it were the singularly interesting thing in the entire room, above all the people and animate furniture.

    He approaches to get a much closer look at the book, leaning in and resting one hand on the table to brace himself. He grunts a little sound out from the discomfort of all of his hidden bruises, the fight with that girl at Seagrass City still tingling through his nerves.

    "Real prophecy?" he wonders aloud, taken aback in a powerful way. "Is there anything else in there that we should hear...?" he wonders, looking to Enark and back to the book. He seems excited! It's something palpable that doesn't feel like aimless doom and gloom with no end, so it has lit a fire under him. He even reaches to flip through the pages while Enark is busy talking to the others, as quiet as a ghost even as he does this. Hardly a shuffle of paper.

Staren has posed:
    Staren stares as Enark recounts the prophecy. Then he gestures at the book with both hands. "See? This is what I mean. Freakin' timeloops!"

Sarracenia has posed:
     Sarracenia looks...rather jealous. Very jealous in fact. Not only does she hardly ever get rescued by heroes, but SOMEONE ELSE wearing a crown got a prophecy and she didn't! Her cheeks actually puff out a bit in a childish pout before she huffs and folds her arms over her chest before looking off to the side. "So...Priscilla might hold the key to confronting the Abyss. Big deal." she says, then blinks. "Wait...that is a big deal! How could you guys have prophecies about people from other worlds?"

     Her jealousy and pouting are quickly replaced by intrigue! Princess Sarracenia looks more closely at the book, then at Priscilla, then at the book, and at Priscilla again. "It is rather amazing." she finally says, smirking lightly. "Did you die here and get reincarnated, Priscilla?" she asks before blinking again. "Wait, you are a queen of two nations?" Sarra exclaims excitedly.

     The princess giggles delightedly before she pats Enark on the shoulder again. "Well, you may not have been able to answer all of our questions, but you were quite helpful. But, the Unlit climbing the base of Lumiere seems...bad. Is there some way to thin them out, or discourage them from climbing?"

Priscilla has posed:
    Of all things, 'dragon' was the word Priscilla had least expected to hear from Enark in response, never mind the rest. She'd managed to get the feeling that this place was attached to an overall ordinary Earth, with its more fantastical elements purely originating from the grim abyss that secretly lies directly beneath it, having lead her to believe that whatever it was atop the tower would be another sort of dark, forgotten horror. Enark assures her that there weren't any when he was around, but . . . "Couldst it not then be that such things were dead long before thou were and hath simply dwelt within other regions of Lumiere, or that they hath long outlived thee unbeknownst, and that even such long-lived beings were wiped out all at once with the other living, depositing them here as well?"

    Now she definitely intends to reach the roof of the tower, rather than just climbing upwards in vague hopes of encountering something useful on one of its floors. Unfortunately, the explanation he gives for what she and Sarracenia had seen behind that set of doors is pretty much exactly what she had feared. Obviously, this dead world has been around for a very long time, and is vast enough to have managed it while flooded with all the world's history and every living being, but it does make her wonder if there isn't some sort of time constraint on what they're doing here. "Securing this library wouldst be of great use to ourselves one way or another. If it is as thou sayest, this wilst logically be our next objective."

    She's starting to second guess bringing that crown along, even if it is far from ostentatious, by the time that Enark runs off to grab the book, briefly hesitating on whether she should try to drag him away from fighting off his pet mimic for the thing. When she actually sees it, and more importantly, hears the contents of its pages however, her countenance undergoes the most dramatic change it has in a while. It's a funny thing, being on the opposite end of one of these prophecies. She can tell that it sounds all like cryptic nonsense to anyone with ears, like any other eccentric portent of the future, but to have all the context herself, it seems almost shockingly obvious; as if no writer could have possibly done so by mistake, and had simply phrased the plain facts as imaginatively as possible. Facts that nobody else in the room is fully privy to as well.

    "That is . . . quite the guidance." she finally admits, wondering how exactly their prophet would know so much about her, or whether some other bizarre mirror of events had happened here. At this point, she wouldn't even put it past Staren's usual crazy guessing to be right. "In . . . a sense." she barely replies to Sarracenia. That's something that would take a lot of time and context to explain. "I am most certainly assured that I am as half-alive as I hath ever been however." She then finally returns to Enark. "That odd structure to thine annex is linked to a network of others. Shouldst thou render it active, thou wouldst be able to move conveniently between them across however much of this Plane is still active, though currently we knoweth only of one belonging to Peacemaker Longita of the Church of Bleak Mercy, one well hidden within Lantern hunting territory within the urban decay, and one at the base of these stairs. It wouldst maketh it much easier for us to return, though possible for others to intrude if they were to learn of it."