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un: trienemybest; video

[The video feed opens in Varian's creepy basement lab where health and safety regulations go to die. The boy himself isn't looking that great, his skin has a grey-ish tinge to it and he looks more exhausted than usual. But that's fine, he's fine. He turns the camera around to take in some sapphires on his workbench. Some are soaking in various chemical substances, some are under a microscope, some are in various steampunk-y machines: it's clear some testing has been going on. ]

So, Flynn was kind enough to give me some of the crystals that grew on his corpse during...whatever weird new thing death is here. [He doesn't sound as excited about this as his usual projects and anyone who knows about his deeply unfortunate past will know why.] I have experience in creepy, magical death rocks -no...no I'm not going to elaborate on that- so I decided to study them. They seem to be crystalising the actual cells of the body- so not just a separate coating. I also found traces of warmblood within the crystals themselves, which I think is what Flynn is? A-anyway, it seems they're working on a cellular level, like they're what jumpstarts the reversal of the cell degeneration after death- so- so it's possible they're what reverses then entire process.

Anyway, moral of the story is, they're probably super important in resurrecting people so maybe don't mess with the process when it's happening? Of course, without having any other samples to compare this to, it's all conjecture right now.

[A beat, he turns the camera back to himself, grimacing.]

Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. Please don't take that as encouragement to get yourselves killed in the name of science.

[Another beat, then he waves a hand airily.]

Thaaaaaat said, this is October, so statistically, there's a high chance that a not-insignificant portion of the population will be dead by the end of the month. So...if you wanna donate your death crystals for science then, that would be less...morally grey. Probably? Probably.

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[Illarion, no!]

Well, I don't know if this is a land of death really. I know I'm not dead back home. [He got better.] This is more... I don't know. Somewhere else. Something else.

[Varian catches the lack of movement. Ah. That... makes some sense. Still, Varian understands wanting to be treated the same as everyone else despite disabilities that might put them at a disadvantage. So he's not going to draw too much attention to the fact- he'll... keep playing it by ear, chuckling at the joke.]

Hah, thanks, I appreciate that. They've probably noticed with all the explosions by now, but you never know!

[He clears his throat- ah rumbled.]

Sorry, just... making sure? But hey, you never know, you might really find stairs against your moral beliefs!

[He starts inside, still speaking so Illarion can follow the sound of his voice.]

There's Fern- he's...uh he's my boyfriend. Then there's Luz, Luca and Reaper. If you've met any of them? They're... well, we're kind of our own little family here.

[Illarion absorbs the notion of Trench being something else that wasn't an afterlife, weighing that notion against his own beliefs. It certainly fit facts better: He wasn't (strictly) dead either and shouldn't be in Navia unless he'd been properly cremated. (He also should not have gone through a squid as an intermediary form on his way. That was nowhere in his theology.)

But where else would everyone, and everything, collect if not that? This couldn't be Generation's realm beyond the sky and star-river.] Mm. I have more to learn, then, before I am passing judgment on where we must be.

[Which is, in fact, why he is here!] It is kind of you to make sure; do not apologize. [He still isn't wholly used to being blind, truth be told, and how...differently people feel and act when they learn that. Politeness about it is an easy pattern to follow, however.] And I suppose I might--are yours particularly offensive, before gods and men?

[He ambles after Varian, stretching out his other senses to take in the ((feel)) of the house, how it smells and ((tastes)). What he can perceive does seem well-kept; not quite a proper refuge by shrike standards, but close. A home indeed, as well as a house.] Unless I have spoken to them without hearing their names, I have not met any of these.

[A pause.] Varian, Luz, Luca, Fern, and--Reaper. One of these does not sound very much like the others. I take that is her use-name, yes? Or else I am very sorry her parents had such odd tastes.

[That cultural default to female pronouns is going to bite you in about three seconds, Illarion.]

Edited 2021-10-25 08:20 (UTC)

Don't worry, it... takes a while to get used to. I've only been here for two months, I'm more used to the dream than anything else.

[He says it gently, carefully. It's a lot to get used to, and he sure as heck hasn't yet. Trench plays by similar rules as Deerington once did, but at the same time it's extremely different. He chuckles a little at the comment though.]

Last time I checked, they were just regular stairs, but maybe I'm just blind to their awfulness.

[You just never know!! The is definitely a ramshackle place, the sort of home you'd expected from four extremely bizarre teenagers and one smoke man living in it. As they head through the kitchen and down the big, stone steps that lead to the basement- the chemical and metallic smells grow considerably stronger. ]

Oh hah, do you mean Reaper? That's a guy. I...I don't think it's his actual name, but it's the one he likes to go by. Luz is the only lady living here.

[As they proceed through the house, and the decorations get progressively weirder, Illarion finds himself distracted from the conversation at hand. He hums a noise of agreement at the notion it takes a while to get used to; Varian could say that again. Also, is that a tyrant lizard skull? Incredible.

He'll have to ask whether or not they killed that one themselves, soon.]

--Ah? Yes, Reaper. I am taking it he is human, then; it is a use-name found among women, with us. [Since they were far more often being intimidating in the front lines than men.

He hesitates at the top of the stairs for a split second, tipping his head this way and that, before clattering down after Varian as confidently as if he could see his footing.] These do not seem particularly offensive, by the by.

[The reek of an inventor's laboratory, on the other hand... Is not really offensive, either, but it definitely wakes some interesting memories.] Did you find all this in the dream, too? The parts of your laboratory?

[The house really is what one would expect when an eclectic bunch of teenagers and one weirdo adult live under the same roof.]

Oh he's- I think was human, once? He's...not quite that anymore.

[He's actually pretty impressed with Illarion's movements, chuckling a little.]

Thanks- glad to know. And originally it was just a basement in the dream. This is the house I woke up in. I set up all the lab while I was living in the dream. Then the whole thing followed me here to the waking world.

"Not quite that," [Illarion echoes, thoughtfully. As someone not quite what he'd started out as, on two fronts, he can already relate.] Is it a story you can tell, how he came to be not human?

[If not, well, not his place to pry further.

He stops at the base of the stairs, stretching out his senses to take in what he can of the lab. Much of it ((feels)) inscrutable to him; the sort of thing Kel collected and he was never allowed near enough to form a sense of.]

This seems very kind of the dream, to give you back your lab as you move on. Did anything about it change oddly?

It's a story I don't know, honestly. He's very guarded about his past. All I know now is that he's made of smoke- for the most part. He can solidify, but...yeah.

[And he knows Moria was working on a cure, but Reaper very much declined Varian continuing on from that, so he left it as was.

The lab is definitely...eclectic a mix of various machines half-finished and a lot of bubbling chemicals creating whole new things- experiments in the process of being. Varian heads over to one of the desks, rummaging around through some folders.]

Weirdly, no. It was exactly as I left it. I honestly expected it to be...well at least in need of a clean, but it was fine.

[Made of smoke. Illarion's eyes widen at that, his curiosity clearly piqued. ...Though most of the questions this bit of information raises are likely not ones Varian's got answers for.] This is a marvel.

[Though, from his own experience becoming something very different than what he'd started as--twice--he knows better than to imagine it's a fun experience. ...Perhaps he'd have to poke into that, though. If he got the chance.

Illarion is--fortunately or unfortunately--not one to know from labs; all he can tell is Varian's seems reasonably well-stocked. Certainly enough he now knows where to come if he has anything that might require a technological solution.

...He stays by the stairs, however. Jostling any of this (or giving into the sudden, intrusive thought to swat one of those beakers off a table) might be a bad idea.]

As would I; it should have aged some, if only a few years. Perhaps whatever kind impulses guarded you in the Dream have not left you.

((ooc: I think I'm running out of steam on this one--shall we call it a wrap in the next couple of tags or so?))

[Please don't swat the beakers, buddy, there would be so many explosions. ]

That's what I was expecting. After all, from what we've been led to believe, this world is a looong time in the future of the dream dying.

[He scoffs lightly, picking up some folders, before handing them over to Illarion.]

Buuuut you'll figure out pretty quickly that logic doesn't always apply here. Here you go, all my notes. They're...uh- written. If that's a problem like I can...try and dictate them for you?

[[ooc: not a problem at all! we can do that]]

[He accepts the folders as they're given him, running a thumb over them lightly to gauge their contents. What's there is enough to tell him--]

You would be a very long time doing this, yes? [It's said with a smile.] I think, this is too much of an inconvenience. Perhaps instead there is a way to ask the Omni device to do the reading?

[Not that he'd have any idea of how to do it, but it seems like a sensible notion to him. If it can read the text dispatches sent to it and take pictures, then...]

[There's definitely a lot of them, a year and a half's worth of his own observations, and notes from those that were in the town before him. ]

I would...probably take a while, yeah. But maybe the Omni would be able to read it for you. They seem pretty advanced.

[More magic than science, really.]

Anyway, feel free to keep them as long as you need to- I hope they help.

I will explore what it can do. [If it can take pictures, he can also copy the notes... Which will spare him the difficulty of storing them long-term when he doesn't have any fixed residence.

He gives a shake of his head, putting that musing on the shelf for later.]

Certainly they will help, as I am starting from very little, and you seem a good observer. [He smiles to punctuate the praise.] I will get them safely back to you once I am done having them read.

Which, if you do not mind, I would go to start on right now.

[The praise means a lot. Varian's always had a tendency to be a little needy when it comes to external validation. ]

No problem, I'm glad I could help. Uh...I'll catch you later.

[Illarion might've picked up on that need, just a little. Call it parental instinct.

It hurt nothing and helped much to make Varian know he's appreciated.

He touches two fingers to his forehead in what's recognizably a salute.]

You as well. Perhaps you will have a name for me by then, yes?

[And with that, he takes his leave.]

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un: trienemybest; video

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wow that html sure borked

rest in pieces, a tag

so tragic

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