Scene #2522: How I've Been Killing Time Lately

Owner	Pose
Mizuki	At Arthur's approach, the Silent City is as true to its namesake as it ever was. Even in the midst of such a blusterous storm, there is no noise: the people walk by unphased, albeit in possession of some garments and utensils more fitted to the weather. It's almost sad, really, since the sound of a car whizzing past a street corner in the rain might be almost nostalgic, but it's not as though he'll be left alone for long anyway. In all likelihood he is at the door before those thoughts even have the ghost -- or at least, more than the ghost -- of a chance to broach themselves, and immediately his thoughts would be tempted by the cataclysm that currently threatens the floorboards. Yes, for the Autumnal leaves that so decorate the doorway are not the only clutter in this vicinity -- certainly not. In fact, in this instance they seem to make up less than a quarter of the mess in its totality... questionably, even less. Most of the tile is stained white, black, Mizuki's traditional hues of monochrome; though certainly, tainted with different tools than the average imaginative paints. All of it seems to have been wrought in paper and graphite: page after page of written work are scattered and thrust aside, some of them swept up in the cutting winds that seem to twist through the doors before they have the opportunity to close themselves. Yet in the midst of this tempest, Mizuki is nowhere to be found. Only Fenestra is there to greet Arthur at the door, yet the moment she attempts a wave the papers on her desk are sent flying. They soar like leaves to become a part of the growing conference in the center of room, a gathering which is evidently held by... well. The lady herself. She can be seen perched on the concrete railing of the fountain, yet another mess of texts fluttering around her in such concentration as to obscure her body completely. Every now and again one of them is thrust out of the group with such disdain that the gesture may worry any onlookers, and one such balled mass - a union of at least 20-some papers - lands at Arthur's foot. And it is only when it gingerly taps the tip of his shoe, grazes his form, that the mad creature who had called him here is finally roused from her waking slumber. All the papers fall at once, many of them being lost forever when they are soaked in the fountain. She bats her lashes until she is convinced that she is free of whatever had possessed her before, then she promptly rubs her eyes as the final proof. With a deep, deep draw of breath, she stands, almost tripping herself on a stack of books just short enough to have been missed. She stumbles forward with a loud crunching noise, and by the time she has made so that she is within a few feet of her guest, her cheeks are a fairly bright cherry hue. She brushes back her bangs -- themselves quite embarrassingly unkempt, you'll note -- before bowing deeply to him. There is only a second further of silence before she states rather hastily, "I... had -intended- to set all that aside before you got here. It's very maddening, though, you know, so...! And so I... seem to have forgotten myself, somewhat. A bit. Perhaps." She clears her throat, swaying unsteadily for another moment before... well. She does the only thing that she should be expected to in such a flustered appearance, and after so long: she hugs him. She trusts that he's used to this by now, if he ever will be, so she doesn't fret over his reaction.
Mizuki	Thankfully, though, justification of that odd display is quick in coming once she steps away. "You see, this is what I have been doing since I started my little... sabbatical. I've been researching, going through as many worlds as possible in some meager attempt to find the answers to my questions. I want to find something, anything, to distract me from... that thing. What I've been thinking of doing? ... you do know. Don't you know? Ah, I may not have clarified... but that doesn't matter." She grabs her forehead quickly, walking off to the side with a few clicks of her shoes. "I've been piecing things together. The best components of all the worlds I've ventured to, I've kept. Categorized. Organized. I'm trying so very desperately to find an answer, and I have been since everything was finished with Sophia. I thought, perhaps, that the Apostles would be helpful, but the more useful of them still refuse to speak with me. This is why I'm in such disarray! They... I... I can't..." She takes a deep breath, folding her hands together in front of herself. "But." She raises a single finger of her left hand. "I've thought of a distraction. A diversion. Something I wanted you to see. It isn't a story or world like the others I've shown you, quite, but it is... it is something that I've been working on. A rough draft of a rough draft, et cetera et cetera. I'm sure you understand. This..." She picks up a large stack of papers that were previously concealed behind a bookcase off right. She tosses them out, after which all of them - 200 or so, but the numbers don't matter - begin floating around her in concert. "This is the /new/ Book of Heaven. My study of... my study of utopia. Of the ideal mind, how and where it can be achieved. More than that, though, it's," She pauses a moment just to smile, "a very pretty thing to look at. Now, if I may?" She... seems to be asking his permission for something, but in her haphazard mood her meaning might be hard to grasp. Does she want to show him the inside of a book world, maybe? Yes, that's probably it. Or something similar.
Arthur Lowell	Arthur's approach is as it usually is: A mix of forced-confident swagger and sober respect for the atmosphere of the world. The former recedes as the latter progresses. He's out in the storm without much care for his dryness, and it's unlikely he'll will himself dry or anything like that once he gets inside. He remembers the place well, he's been here multiple times, and each of them left a bit of a mark on him. So the storm outside is matched by the storm inside, and Arthur simply watches with his usual wide grin, until Mizuki seems fully woken from her strange state. By that time, he's standing in front of her, grinning widely with his hands planted on his hips. "Can't figure why'd you be FORGETTIN' YOURSELF. You ask ME, you're a pretty UNFORGETTABLE PERSON!" He tilts his head a bit. "Huh. I don't think... No, I don't think you told me entirely. You hinted a bit, but I've kinda just learned to take the vague foreshadowing for what it is, not stress out a lot. "Hey, slow down a bit, okay? Seems like your words are getting ahead of your thoughts. No rush, 'kay? You need some time to get your thoughts together, I'll give it to ya." He replaces his grin with a friendlier sort of smil, and then leans forward to look at the manuscript Mizuki's at work on. "Huh. Well, uh, as long as it's not..." He scratches his head. "You know. As long as it's not that, I'm up for it. Looks damn pretty from the outside, at least. Hit it, Mimi, if you're working on something I'll be happy to take a look!"
Mizuki	Mizuki smirks confidently at Arthur's initial reply, but... well, yes, she should slow down. So before she sends him off anywhere - and no, it won't be /that/ place - she steals a moment to compose herself. She takes another, deep breath, this time seeming to slow even the revolutions of the papers. Newly synchronized with the beating of her metaphorical heart, the sequence of her fabricated breaths, the papers... glow. Gradually they begin to shimmer in a sort of golden glitter: they melt away from top to bottom, each page folding as if under the pressure of a fire and dispersing in the form of hundreds of stars throughout the library. Mizuki takes advantage of this time to fold her arms behind her back, as is more her custom, and to appreciate the visuals as her concerto comes to life.
Mizuki	It starts directly beneath them. Blades of grass take the ground. Every floor tile and board is obliterated to make way for them. Those massive bookcases, at least as tall as four grown men, are likewise crippled, all of them bowing to meet with the coming wakes. At that moment the fountain explodes into a geyser likewise -- the water blasts away the ceiling so that it can flow into the sky, coloring a swirl which is soon illuminated by a newly-appearing sun. That may distract Arthur so long that he won't even notice as the rest of Silent Night's main floor is transformed into a sort of... truncated medieval village; buildings wrought from stone and wood rise around the land as the land itself... ends, and an ocean as expansive as the sky itself begins to roll below.
Mizuki	In the distance, similar continents to the one they're currently perched upon begin to form. It's as though fog is clearing with the appearance of each and every one, heralded further by the swirl of clouds that appears... only a modest throw above them. It continues to form further and further, far past what can be seen and where only one so attuned to space as Arthur is would be able to feel, and then Mizuki finally reopens her eyes. "Then perhaps you're due a bit of explanation," She belatedly offers. "This," She gestures wide to the still mostly unformed world around her, strolling closer to the land's edge, "is the tapestry. The starter area. The building block. The epicenter." She rejoins her hands at her waist. "This is the place where all souls will first congregate... if I succeed. And if I do not find a better solution first."
Arthur Lowell	Arthur gives that pleasant smile again when Mizuki slows, and then sits back to watch. These things are always a great lightshow, and his eyes slowly trace from the changes at the floor up the flow of the countain to the sky itself. He is indeed quite distracted by the time the village forms, looking around with wide sorts of eyes. Despite his insistance on pretending to be cool, he is always rather genuinely fascinated by these sorts of things in a way that is far more emotional than coolness ought to allow. That world in a book trick Mizuki's world has never gets old.
Arthur Lowell	He then turns his focus on Mizuki, tilting his head. "Hell." He says, his wide eyes blinking for a moment as he collects his own words. "Great place to start out. You sure you don't do much game stuff? This really reminds me of that, in a kinda way. Maybe this is just what people think of whenever they think of a starting place and they're making a world the way you are. The sort of smallish medieval island kind of thing?" Then there's a few chuckles. "Gotta admit, though, not gonna fit a ton of souls here with that sort of thing." Then he blinks, as if finally sort of realizing what Mizuki said about souls in the first place.
Arthur Lowell	"Wait, 'all souls'? Whad'ya mean exactly?" Arthur's tone isn't accusatory in any capacity, it's just curious. Extremely curious, in fact! "I'm not sure I get it all the way. I remember the Seekers starting out somewhere else, but this seems like something new. Where are those comin' from?" He doesn't intend to stay still too long, of course. Gently rising off the ground weightlessly, with his usual antigravity shenanigans, he seeks to start drifting around, perhaps with Mizuki's guidance or perhaps just at random, examining the area they're in properly.
Mizuki	"Oh, come," She says, "you should know better than most that /physical size constraints/ hold absolutely no ground here. This is a place of theory and concept. Size is irrelevant. A potentially limitless number of anything could fit here, particularly since the presence of other sentient beings expands the world on its own power. Say, if a world were to be drawn in to this place. The basic structure of this particular area would expand to compensate, and -should-, due to its impressionability, immediately mold itself into a form more familiar to those entrants." She turns to face him again, smiling. "In other words: there is no limit. There can be as much of 'this' as people need or desire for there to be, and all of them can be just as isolated, or just as populace. All based upon preference."
Mizuki	'All souls.' That phrase actually makes Mizuki blink and stiffen her expression, too... at least for an instant. "Now, this is a bit of a pet project of mine... but don't you think, perhaps, that the Seekers make things happen too gradually? And don't you think, just theoretically, that people would inflict less harm upon themselves if the concepts of 'scarcity' and 'competition' were abolished? Well, that is what this world gives. I want to share this world with more of the world, plainly speaking, and I want to isolate it from the darker concepts that inspire things like, say... destruction, mortality, bigotry, that sort of thing. I want to corral as much of the world as I can into a condensed, manageable sphere so that I can better decide how to accomplish this. That is, how I can pick-and-choose the best things in the panoply of emotion... whilst preserving the full flavor of experience, even that which is derived from negative areas."
Arthur Lowell	Arthur, as he drifts, turns back to Mizuki and seems to recline, as if on some antigravitational couch. "Huh." He says, propping his head up on a hand. The elbow leans against nothing at all, of course. "Honestly, I wanna say I totally think that, or maybe I totally don't think that, one way or another. I mean, when I did my whole," He waves his hands a bit. "Godly transcendence of the human condition into a being capable of creating worlds." He stops and goes back to reclining. "I guess all I did was sort of make exactly what we already deal with, instead of a perfect deathless utopia. So, on one hand, I don't actually understand on a human level most of what was going on up on the higher levels of thought I can run, but apparently when some bit of my mind looked at this from a godhood perspective I thought that scarcity was a good thing."
Arthur Lowell	Then Arthur shifts over, focusing on the other hand. "But then, like, at the same time? Fuck godhood. You know? What's that side of me know about humanity? Jack shit-all, I'll tell you." He chuckles briefly. "So I'd say, honestly, I just gotta see it to know my gut opinion. I know if anyone can do it, it's you, Mimi, but, at the same time, hell if I know if anyone can." He shrugs, casually, and pleasantly. "You got a good foundation. Proven stuff, stuff that works, you know? But at the same time, who knows what happens? Long as you're being careful, I think this is worth trying out. Long as you're just working with volunteers or something like that."
Mizuki	"Scarcity," Mizuki raises her finger as if to request a 'turn', "is excellent -- a fine regulator. But it, as with anything else, comes with some noted drawbacks. It... it instigates greed, competition; biology necessitates that creatures need to develop some form of individual identity in order to support -themselves-, look out for -themselves-." The other fingers of her hand raise so that she is now holding a flattened, vertical palm. "Yes, it works in the context of things as they are. But that is what I meant by 'ideal mind', or at the least, a part of it. In order to create a 'utopia', one cannot only focus on making things ideal for the minds that dwell there, but must also consider what /mind/ would be ideal for its place of dwelling. First, therefore, I must create a world without scarcity, then fine-tune the mind so that those living there can be perfectly happy. Then things will be impressionable enough, 'pure' enough, that I will be able to further adjust things. Make them enduring, rather than constricting."
Arthur Lowell	Arthur seems to ponder this idea. "Hmmm." He seems pretty well lost in thought about this, for several seconds, close to a minute after a while. After he gets his thoughts in order, he seems to agree, in a way. "Well, alright. I think I can understand that." He bobs his head back and forth, doing a sort of shrugging gesture as he goes. "I mean, 'refining the mind' sounds a bit iffy just by nature. Remember, we totally just got done with the fallout of the last mind-improvement scheme, right? But, at the same time, rejecting that just 'cause of humanity being humanity, nah. No way. That's closed-minded shit, so I'm not gonna do that." He begins focusing less on Mizuki herself, now lying back with his fingers linked behind his head, contemplating.
Mizuki	Mizuki's expression seems to dip further when Arthur mentions 'close-mindedness.' She knows that she's guilty of that to some extent, but... how far is that necessary? How much must one believe in ideas they know aren't true, how far is one allowed to take unsavory 'means' in pursuit of the ultimate 'end'? She pauses a moment, caught in the same sort of silent contemplation as Arthur himself must be. When she finally snaps out of it, though, it's with a wave of her hand. "Bah," Before that hand clamps itself against her forehead again, "enough of my melodramatic, apocalyptic banter. I'm sorry, thinking the way I do... embitters people to some extent. I give myself far more responsibility than I'm entitled to -- I know that. But, ah, to address something you said before... no. No, I won't subject any worlds to this great experiment who do not explicitly agree to my terms. My first thought was Eryl's world due to its current state, but I've yet to broach the subject with them."
Arthur Lowell	"Nah, nah, melodramatics, that's fine. Like I said, I'm just trying to avoid being close-minded about this. I suppose, way I see it is, there's no easy rules. Like, medications for psychological issues, those are a thing. Those alter the way people think, and you could say they pull out some part of them. But then there's lobotomies too, and everyone thinks those are bad." He gestures up at the sky. "I wanna see where you go with this." He says, in a lazy sort of tone. "Mostly 'cause, I mean, it could turn out fine, yeah! And that'll be hella cool if it does. There's just not any real rule I can say, 'this is how you can do that in a good way, this is how you can do that in a bad way'."
Arthur Lowell	He winds up sort of circling around Mizuki, lazily. Still reclining, of course. "I think if you get volunteers, and I think if you take this slow and cautious, it could be good. Keep kinda... Conservative with the mental shenanigans? Probably fine. You'll probably get some pushback, lotta people think humanity's some rigid structure that you can't ever alter." He makes a firm, throttling sort of gesture with his hands. "But, nah." He relaxes and goes back to reclining. "I think humanity's a sort of amorphopus cloud, or maybe it's a river, or maybe it's just not even real in the first place. You know it when you see it, but every time you see it, it looks different or it's made out of something new, and it's always changing even when you're staring at it."
Arthur Lowell	Arthur raises one hand, index finger pointed. "But I know you, and I know what you're like. That's why I wanna help out, s'why I wanna make sure you're doing this right. 'Cause, you know /me/, I am aaaaaaaaall about that humanity. Humanity's my jam, that shit is what I'm all about." He chuckles. "So yeah, this is a solid foundation, and honestly? A world of lobotomies is probably better than some of the shit going on down in that sandy buttcrack of a world anyway." He makes a cheerful shrugging motion, grinning wide again. "If you're gonna start anywhere, start there."
Mizuki	Sandy... buttcrack. Well! She shouldn't be surprised, but the old woman in Mizuki is quite frankly -appalled- right now. It would certainly show in her widened eyes, too, so she's quick to address it: "You'll pardon me, but I had -quite forgotten- that you were capable of such vulgarity. I'm..." She holds a hand to her cheek, "... entirely unsure whether it's /reassuring/ in some perverse way, or just outright disgusting. But why don't we interpret it as the former and leave the issue be, hmm? We'll say your linguistic preference is just another of your endearing traits. Just... so long as it doesn't become as ubiquitous as your shouting quirk." And so it was that the Mage of Space derailed all her thoughts on revolutionizing the world because of an off remark regarding Eryl's -- No. ... no. Hang on.
Mizuki	"Though that aside," Back on track now, "I would love to have a 'supervisor' of sorts. I think that you - and perhaps Psyber if I can convince him that this isn't just Book of Heaven re-done - would both be good counterweights against my fanaticism. In fact, thinking on it now, he and I are involved in a rather massive upheaval of systems in Priscilla's world at the moment, one which he suggested, so he may not be so averse to the idea after all. And neither would she be...? Hm. I'll have to ask the both of them. But before you begin to trust my judgment too too much, I do want to clarify a few more things." So she says, but she stops on that syllable, looking around a moment. "... and so I will, but come come. It's doing this place a terrible disservice if we just lounge around here. Though that was entirely my fault! Apologies."
Mizuki	So if the Godkid is amenable to following her, Mizuki leads him on a short flight over the ocean. She points out a few aquatic cities not at all unlike the Waterway, a few strikingly RPG-esque shipwrecks, and other such oddities before the duo finally find themselves on a fairly secluded island. She guides him further to a fallen log which can be used as a cozy bench of sorts, and from there she points out the floating continents. They... certainly do cut quite the visual when set against the sky. It accentuates them quite nicely when one can actually see the clouds rather than being above them, or heaven forbid, -among- them.
Mizuki	In a gesture of thanks, Mizuki dreams up a beverage inside a coconut container -- probably a soda, for what else would any coolkid worth their salt imbibe -- before beginning her due explanation. "As I told Riva," She begins, "I plan to reconcile the 'collectivism vs. individualism' argument by giving everyone a... sort of controlled permeability to their thoughts. People will be able to maintain and withhold whatever emotions and memories that they choose, but when they have fully assimilated with my world, they will also be able to... telepathically share themselves with others. Now I realize, if one so chose to release -all- of their memories into another person and they so chose to receive them that we could have some composite people, but that is... their choice, I suppose. But it's my hope that, for the majority, the simple fact that people can share that sort of closeness, that intimacy, that it will foster a sort of peace you and I could never know."
Mizuki	"Then," She goes on, "I would systematically request the removal of any... more troublesome human traits. The ones founded in biological nuance that will no longer have any relevance. I'll remove one's ability to become bored, and replace it with a more enduring aspect of childhood curiosity. At first I worried that people would have no drive to innovate without boredom, but I am fairly confident now... that that is not the case. Just more observation I've gone through. More of the motions, as I've been reading my books."
Mizuki	"But the actual feelings derived from those tendencies," She rolls her hand, "would endure. I would put them in a sort of 'suspended animation' -- some sort of collective unconscious of inexplicable sensations which I'll then 'rewire' -- reattach to different stimuli. The feelings of deep melancholy? They'll still occur, but they will be inspired by something else. Hatred, racism, sexism, bigotry, all that nonsense? People will understand it fully, semantically, distantly; enough to be sure that the efforts of ancestral humans do not go to waste, but also so that those ideas may never be internalized themselves. Precautions will also be taken to isolate the less savory ideas where they will -not- have any impact on the collective unconscious aforementioned, but can be accessed later if need be."
Mizuki	"In a way," She concludes, "this system is not unlike your 'dream bubbles.' Thoughts that collide. Memories that can be accessed, but not in the most direct way. Errant bits and bobs that influence one another in unseen ways that are not meant to be directly comprehended. My world would employ a system of 'fate', but it would be more benign, and I would limit myself to control over the organization and intake of concepts to ensure that nothing goes awry. I would become a sort of... celestial computer, I suppose, parsing things. But I would eventually remove my ability to directly manipulate others' minds. I would not trust myself with that, nor anyone else. Not when one has influence over... so much. No. I am too human for that responsibility."
Arthur Lowell	Arthur follows along, flying over the ocean in his drifting, weightless way, and sips at the beverage lightly as he listens. He keeps quiet -- respectfully so -- during the discussion, thoughtful and silent. And once again, long after Mizuki is finished talking, he seems to spend some time in thought. Just silently thinking, eventually even settling down on the surface of the beach they've stopped at. It'll take him some time to assemble his words.
Arthur Lowell	"Huh. Well. Like I said. It sounds like it'd be plenty easy to take that as a pretty evil-sounding kind of plan. Being in charge of people's minds and all, y'know?" He leans on one elbow, propping up his cheek. "On the other hand... Huh. It sounds like, maybe it'd be better. I dunno. Like I said, that's tough to judge, tough to kinda settle on." He sips at his drink again, in thought for a moment. "I think this is something to try. Sounds like something we oughta find a better solution for, but I guess I don't really have any idea how to do that. Already saw that yourself, huh? Meantime, this is as good as it gets."
Arthur Lowell	"I'd say, be patient, maybe. Not like either of us is running out of time. But then, that didn't really work out for some people, plus it's the cliche jerk move for a god to push that on people. And every second's dead bodies in that sandy... Eryl's home. His world, I mean. Yeah." Cough. "Honestly, I totally understand you needing to do this sometime soon, and I'll one hundred percent agree that maybe the horrible apocalypse land is the best place to start. As long as you got fewer screaming dying gods in your dream-bubble inspired thing, hey, that's fine by me. Probably a step up for that world in general, even if it turns out to be evil. Totally lesser evil."
Arthur Lowell	"But then..." Arthur sips his drink until it's gone. "Then, at the same time, we could wind up with some weird zombie stuff going on. So, you know, keep... Cautious, I guess. Keep on the conservative side. And if you start going mad with power or something I am legit gonna duel your shit, just putting that out there. And that's only /if/ I don't do it before Riva." There's a light chuckle at the end there, and it fades in a good-natured way, until he seems to be more serious. "Really. I wanna supervise, and I want you to... Y'know. Be you, be who you are. Do what you're supposed to. But I wanna get a good look at what you're doing, and, I mean..." He shrugs, helplessly, laughing a bit again. "I gotta do what I gotta do too. So we'll see how it goes, and when it goes, I'll have you knock it off one way or another if you step over a line. 'Till then, you've got my backing, one hundred percent." He gives a thumbs-up and one of those tooth-gleaming grins.
Mizuki	In this case, at least, Mizuki affords Arthur the same degree of humility that she was shown. She keeps quiet and nods in acknowledgment of what warnings and considerations Arthur has to share. She... doesn't know why, quite, but she gets the impression that his pauses, his careful considerations of each statement were not only a product of him mulling over the concepts she was broaching, but also his sensitivity to her own feelings of them. "Thank you," She half-consciously mutters, though once she has she struggles somewhat to verbalize what it had been for. Arthur would probably know, though, if he were to notice the return of order to her own appearance: not a lock is out of place now, her hands are more calmly in her lap, her gestures are less erratic. This chat, for whatever other merits it might have had, seems to have calmed her considerably.
Mizuki	And perhaps for that very reason, even when she could just as easily swoop them up with a single motion of her hand, Mizuki begins snatching up the other papers she had left on the ground. Or... what? Y-Yes, they're... back in the library. When did that happen? Knowing this place, likely the moment Mizuki began to feel more secure, but knowing that does very little to alleviate the inherent sensation of vertigo. Once she's had a few moments to gather the papers out of the fountain and stow them somewhere else, she turns to face her guest again, smiling. This one is a much more... benign smile; much more relaxed, restrained, genuine. Having this one for comparison might make even more obvious the state she must have been in before. That is likely the nearest thing she can feel to true exhaustion.
Mizuki	"I should not like to have Riva's boot in my face, no," Is the first thing out of her mouth when she finally sees fit to talk again. "Nor would I ever wish to make the lot of you regret the effort you took in sav... helping, me. I'm not the sort to feel indebted for life nor bound by some honor code to honor your every request because of that, and yet I'm not sure that even -my- loose morality could abide killing the lot of you when you all risked your lives for me. That seems such an incongruous return, you know? Too imbalanced. No narrative symmetry." She images a rope into existence with which she binds another stack of papers immediately before flying them off to Fenestra's desk for sorting. It's a good thing that she's so conscientious -- there probably aren't many librarians more busy than her in all the Multiverse.
Mizuki	"Likewise," She idly adds, "I've always found the concept of zombie-centric media so... droll. I don't quite grasp the overwhelming fascination with them, but I suppose it has to do with morbid curiosity. A very particular morbid curiosity. It is as though someone asked, 'What particular imaginative essence can incorporate just the right amount of viscera, just the correct amount of psychological horror that people would /love/ to /fear/?' Go too far beyond their rotting faces and you've gone over the line, but stay within those bounds? -Utter-. -Perfection-." She pinches her fingers closed as she enunciates the word 'perfection', flashing another grin. "Anyway, no. I have no interest in spurring a mindless apocalypse. Quite the opposite, actually! ... if all goes well."
Arthur Lowell	Arthur shakes his head, and smiles brightly. "Mimi, trust me. I know you gotta be you. You gotta... You know, fight the bad stuff that comes from human nature, and you gotta keep trying to improve humanity, and things like that. Just the same as I have to be what I am. Doesn't mean killing, and it sure doesn't mean holding grudges. You go over the line, I'm not holding grudges about that, I'm just knowing, that's who you are. Neither of us got more right than the other deciding where the line is." He looks around, realizing they're in the library now! "Oh, huh, back so soon. Anyway, so long as you're not pullin' out bits of /my/ brain, I'm not holding grudges 'bout this." He chuckles a bit and waves in a dismissive way.
Arthur Lowell	"They say life's too short to hold grudges. I say, fuck that, we're immortals, life's too /long/ to hold 'em. Me, I don't really think the whole changing humanity bit is the way to go myself, but I'm also not the guru of absolute wisdom here, I'm just some guy. I wanna see where it goes and make my decisions when it does, but I'm also not gonna think a lot less of you if it goes bad. You gotta do this, it's just..." Arthur makes a sort of nebulous throttling gesture indicating some sort of visceral intensity or another. "It's like breathing or beating your heart, you know? It's something you gotta do, same as the stuff I do. It's just who you are. And as far as I care, that's pretty great, because you're outrageously cool."
Arthur Lowell	"So, I say, give it a shot, I'll help out, and if it crosses my lines I'll get you stopped, but there's not anything gonna happen that'd make us less friends. I mean, the only thing I'd get mad about is you messin' with /my/ brain. And then, I guess I wouldn't get mad about that." He stops his weird gesticulations long enough to scratch his head. "Because then my brain would be messed with." He shakes his head again, clearing it, and gives Mizuki a broad smile. "Anyway. That's how I feel, really. I wanna see where this goes, wanna watch, figure out where I stand on it, and wanna help keep it in line. I say give it a go, liked what I saw."
Mizuki	Mizuki nods in a gradually quickening fashion as Arthur acknowledges that this is 'just something that she has to do,' and by the time it's her turn to speak her head is bobbing... a fair bit more rapidly than her demeanor will usually allow for it to. "Yes, yes, yes," She says, "you -understand- it! I was hoping so very dearly that one would grasp that idea before I go about putting any plans into motion. This is not some fly-by-night, flight-of-fancy 'curiosity' of mine: it is a compulsion I have. It is my life's work... my many lives' work. In a sense, I am the sentient concept of the precise form of change which I would usher into the world. My original was -born- of her desire to change the world, and even if we are not the same person, it still manifests in me, now, as a -need-. Clear to me as another person's craving for food, or air, or sunlight."
Mizuki	"While it is not my 'fault', per se," She goes on, "it is still a fact of life that my existence was made possible by the sacrifice of an entire world. An -entire world-. I... I know that you have seen entire worlds be destroyed, but can either of us truly understand what that means? All those lives, lost; all to kindle some torch so that I could carry it here, now. I am fairly certain that, if anything in all Creation justifies a feeling of entrapment toward the idea of the betterment of humankind, it is that: knowing that your very existence was made possible for that purpose. And no, this is not some prophecy or fated business which I was set upon to fulfill, but I am still a wish. I have a task I must complete, and I know that I do. Worse yet, I have my own philosophical inclinations toward my task as well. That makes me all the more vehement."
Mizuki	Only after that last word is she able to take another breath, calm herself again. "So... yes. This is something that I -must do-. The only reason I have any faith that I'll not be driven power mad is knowing that here I sit, 400 years old, and each moment of my life I have had absolute conceptual dominion over this realm in which we sit -right now-. Yes, it made me mindbogglingly arrogant, -no-, it did not drive me to tyrannical abuse of those that dwell here. I only hope that that will not change should I seek to extrapolate the here, elsewhere." She leans back and studies the ceiling a moment, stroking through her hair. "But you have faith in me. You have no idea... or I should say instead, I -want- you to know how heartening that is for me. I became so used to having people say that my ambitions were tainted, evil; I developed a sort of..." She lowers her voice somewhat, "... Staren complex, if you'll afford me the spot of rudeness."
Mizuki	"So I will tread carefully," She finishes. "I will be as patient as I possibly can. I admit that I should be much more patient considering how long I have lived, but the resolution of things with Apathy has given me this incredible sense of... urgency. I feel several centuries younger, earnestly! I feel such a sense of vigor, of renewal, that I must do -something-. It is an -itch-. Even if I should not allow an urge to wrest me in the direction of Multiversal Domination, I see no reason why we cannot use it to help someone. Solving all the troubles of Eryl's world, at once? Showing people joy and comfort they have never no, no, nor even comprehend in any other happenstance? ... I should say that we should all look forward to that. Caution, yes, care; but all due excitement. Excitement, at the good that could come of this. Please, try to believe that a better future is coming too. For so many people. Us, too, perhaps."
Mizuki	"But I -will- be counting on you," She says. "To measure my ambition. To tell me if I've gone too far. To... hold me back, when Faruja and I inevitably lambaste eachother over my various sacrileges. For all that, you will be my compass. My conscience, if necessary!" She locks eyes with him a moment, batting her lashes when she realizes what she has just said. "... you. My conscience. Oh dear goodness, how far have I fallen?" Then she breaks into another wide, wide smirk before laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. No hugs this time, though! Mercifully.
Mizuki	"But if you think that what you saw today was... anything, then just you wait. Just you wait until the day comes when Eryl and I preside over the ceremony of stars then blankets that hills of his home in flowers again, that gives all the homeless a place of respite, all the hungry a meal. One, fell swoop that banishes all scarcity for all time... but that encapsulates, in its own way, the tribulations of the people who had fought for that day without my help. I'll not marginalize them either... even if it means forcing them to see how their toil has, at least in part, made their dream come true."
Mizuki	She's silent for a moment before she raises a glass... of water, apparently, to the ceiling. "To the future," She says, "to that capricious, looming entity which even we, in all our 'wisdom', scarce can predict. Cheers!" Then comes a long, long sip that invites Arthur to do take the same. If, of course, it wouldn't violate Coolkid Code. ... or even if it would, perhaps.
Arthur Lowell	Arthur sees Mizuki respond so positively, and seem so much more at ease about things compared to how she was earlier, and it just makes him feel so wonderfully warm and positive. He raises his own drink again. "To the future." And he drinks! Taking it all at once. "You know me well enough, you know exactly what I've been lookin' for here. So long as you know where we stand, I don't think we're gonna have problems. It's good seein' you with some energy, you know? It's good seein' you really, /really/ boucin' back from that business with Apathy." And then a cheerful smile. About as close as Arthur gets to '^u^'. "Mimi, you can count on me. Always." He shares her humor in the idea of him as a conscience (dear god) but he's far more focused on this part of things. And then, with a satisfied look, he goes back to drift-reclining in a pleasant, happy sort of way.