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countryclub2022-12-25 08:15 pm
reddosmod) wrote in countryclub2022-12-25 08:15 pm
Entry tags:
DECEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME!
DECEMBER 2022 TDM
UNFORTUNATELY ALL TOO STANDARD ARRIVAL
THE MISDIRECTED
FROSTQUAKE
CODING
Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!
All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.
Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.
Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.
If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!
IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Man in front of broken glacial ice]
[Image Two: Human face and shoulders, dripping blood with flaking skin]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Monstrous Human with sideways mouth and eyes]
[Image Two: Solitary Snowy Forest]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Frozen Zombie]
[Image Two: Icequake!]
All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.
Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.
Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.
If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!
Prompt One
[Image One: Man in front of broken glacial ice]
[Image Two: Human face and shoulders, dripping blood with flaking skin]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Monstrous Human with sideways mouth and eyes]
[Image Two: Solitary Snowy Forest]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Frozen Zombie]
[Image Two: Icequake!]
WHEN: Last Week of November/First Week of December
WHERE: The Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Horror, Frozen Wastes, Possible Transformations, Extreme Cold, weird offers of juice under suspicious circumstances?
WHERE: The Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Horror, Frozen Wastes, Possible Transformations, Extreme Cold, weird offers of juice under suspicious circumstances?
The Heart of Winter in Trench is no time to enter the city as a sleeper. The entire beach is fully iced over with a glacially thick sheet of ice. Numerous patches of thick ice and heavy snowfall can be found around town, though they are shoveled to leave the paths accessible. Where the previous year, skates were rented and offered to those who wish to skate, the ice flows are far too craggy and irregular to be safe. Instead, cleats are given to those who greet and bring the sleepers to shore. Holes are bored at regular intervals deep into the ice flows and lights are lowered down into the holes to give guidance to sleepers' approach. When Sleepers rise from the depths, they find themselves in small wooden enclosures to protect from howling winds and bitter cold, able to form their bodies there in relative comfort in front of a censor with rocks heated by coldblood-infused stones especially for the purpose.
Outside of the bitter, and vicious cold, arrival to the city is a muted, quiet and otherwise uneventful occurrence. There are no tides of monsters. There are no horrific things waiting for people who arrive. There is simply a bone-chilling cold that numbs the soul a little. To help the people as they arrive, not only are they given their backpacks but they are also offered thick mugs of cocoa to help them cope with the cold. It seems to be helping quite a bit, actually. Yet, something about all of this seems off. The people of Trench are nervous, and there is an air of uncertainty in everything.
SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
Where normally there would be large food stalls set up and games, displays of beauty such as ice sculptures, the cold is bad enough that the people of Trench want not to be out as much as possible, and doubtless neither do the Sleepers. They are hustled and bundled from one small structure to another. Heavy winter furs that look reminiscent of great wolf pelts are given to everyone, especially those who have no clothing. But it is otherwise a strangely muted affair, though the people whisper of hope that the Shedding Ceremony is about to begin, and with it is the hope of new life and new birth in the City of Trench. In time, many will find that the symptoms associated with Madame Generosity's ceremony of shedding one's older self are in full swing throughout the month of January, complete with possible transformations and itchy, scaley skin conditions. Lovely.
Before every new sleeper leaves, however, a final gift is given. It is a small box, which contains a hand written note in scrawled black ink that is alarmingly similar to squid ink. This same box appears the morning of January 1st on the doorstep of every single home of a sleeper in Trench, without fail. If a person in Trench has strange accommodations, they nevertheless find this box where they would normally wake, or around a corner in the early morning with their name on it and no explanation. Inside the box are always the same items: 1 gallon of orange juice, 6 cans of chicken noodle soup, 4 boxes of tissues and what looks like an old world-war I era gas mask. The hand written note reads clearly 'DRINK THE JUICE!' Nobody in Trench seems to know why or who gave them.
Outside of the bitter, and vicious cold, arrival to the city is a muted, quiet and otherwise uneventful occurrence. There are no tides of monsters. There are no horrific things waiting for people who arrive. There is simply a bone-chilling cold that numbs the soul a little. To help the people as they arrive, not only are they given their backpacks but they are also offered thick mugs of cocoa to help them cope with the cold. It seems to be helping quite a bit, actually. Yet, something about all of this seems off. The people of Trench are nervous, and there is an air of uncertainty in everything.
Where normally there would be large food stalls set up and games, displays of beauty such as ice sculptures, the cold is bad enough that the people of Trench want not to be out as much as possible, and doubtless neither do the Sleepers. They are hustled and bundled from one small structure to another. Heavy winter furs that look reminiscent of great wolf pelts are given to everyone, especially those who have no clothing. But it is otherwise a strangely muted affair, though the people whisper of hope that the Shedding Ceremony is about to begin, and with it is the hope of new life and new birth in the City of Trench. In time, many will find that the symptoms associated with Madame Generosity's ceremony of shedding one's older self are in full swing throughout the month of January, complete with possible transformations and itchy, scaley skin conditions. Lovely.
Before every new sleeper leaves, however, a final gift is given. It is a small box, which contains a hand written note in scrawled black ink that is alarmingly similar to squid ink. This same box appears the morning of January 1st on the doorstep of every single home of a sleeper in Trench, without fail. If a person in Trench has strange accommodations, they nevertheless find this box where they would normally wake, or around a corner in the early morning with their name on it and no explanation. Inside the box are always the same items: 1 gallon of orange juice, 6 cans of chicken noodle soup, 4 boxes of tissues and what looks like an old world-war I era gas mask. The hand written note reads clearly 'DRINK THE JUICE!' Nobody in Trench seems to know why or who gave them.
WHEN: Last Week of December through End of January
WHERE: Outside of the Main Districts of Trench, the Wilderness
CONTENT WARNINGS: Horrifying Monster, Body Horror, Being Lost, Severe Disorientation, Hypothermia, Possible Death
WHERE: Outside of the Main Districts of Trench, the Wilderness
CONTENT WARNINGS: Horrifying Monster, Body Horror, Being Lost, Severe Disorientation, Hypothermia, Possible Death
There is no real warning about what comes. Somewhere in the last week of December, people just occasionally turn up missing. The numbers are never alarming, but they're greater than should have been expected in the month of January. Trenchies seem clueless to this, and the Hunters are left scratching their heads. They do not know what is causing the added disappearances, as none of the usual signs and warnings attend the recent uptick. This alone has them unsettled, and Trenchies begin to travel resolutely in pairs and trios everywhere that they go. The reason why becomes all too clear if one strays outside of Trench's main districts and wanders the roads between the districts or anywhere near the farms during this month and a half.
There is something out there. It can never be seen directly, but the sense that you are being watched is inescapable. Hints of a figure in the shadows of the trees are nothing new in Trench, but there is a definite air of malevolence to it, one that is obvious and pointed at your person the moment that you recognize that it is present and acknowledge its existence in any fashion or form. The creature is never there if you look directly at it, but if you happen to catch it more closely out of the corner of your eye, the horrifyingly twisted form of a human being whose eyes and mouth are turned sideways is barely visible, pointing at you!
This would be the time that many good hunters would attack, yet the creature is a slippery one. It never actually attacks directly and any time a person tries to turn to it, it is simply gone. Indirect attacks can cause it to flee, but it always comes back at some point, seemingly invulnerable to attack. What it does, rather than attack, is far more nefarious as its mere presence can be disorienting to anyone who encounters it. All sense of direction becomes lost, and the person can find themselves wandering further and further out into the wilderness, even if they were originally within sight of their destination. The more lost they become, the more that their mind descends into a fugue, one where concentration becomes worse and worse, and memory seems to slip away until they lose all sense of identity. The further out, the colder it gets, and the more the smell of rotten eggs lingers, fetid in the air.
The spirit is eventually identified by some of the Arcane Scholars as not being native to Trench, and they believe it is from somewhere much further in the north, from places far removed from this town. There are only snippets about one of their kind ever being encountered in Trench before, and the reports said it eventually became lost and left again, as will this spirit. It is indestructible and unkillable, as it is already dead. The only true defense is to, when the smell of rotten eggs comes along, to cover the mouth and nose completely. The burning of incense also helps, anything to block out the foul odor, which turns out to be the likely vector of its disorienting effect. If they happen to have a compass that unerringly shows direction from prior events, those too can be a protection of sorts finding their way back. If one travels too long out in the wilderness, though, there are fears that one might become as lost as the spirit and die in the wilderness, ultimately sharing the fate that brought it into existence. Even those who escape the spirit's wrath may have lingering memory issues, though those should pass over the next week.
There is something out there. It can never be seen directly, but the sense that you are being watched is inescapable. Hints of a figure in the shadows of the trees are nothing new in Trench, but there is a definite air of malevolence to it, one that is obvious and pointed at your person the moment that you recognize that it is present and acknowledge its existence in any fashion or form. The creature is never there if you look directly at it, but if you happen to catch it more closely out of the corner of your eye, the horrifyingly twisted form of a human being whose eyes and mouth are turned sideways is barely visible, pointing at you!
This would be the time that many good hunters would attack, yet the creature is a slippery one. It never actually attacks directly and any time a person tries to turn to it, it is simply gone. Indirect attacks can cause it to flee, but it always comes back at some point, seemingly invulnerable to attack. What it does, rather than attack, is far more nefarious as its mere presence can be disorienting to anyone who encounters it. All sense of direction becomes lost, and the person can find themselves wandering further and further out into the wilderness, even if they were originally within sight of their destination. The more lost they become, the more that their mind descends into a fugue, one where concentration becomes worse and worse, and memory seems to slip away until they lose all sense of identity. The further out, the colder it gets, and the more the smell of rotten eggs lingers, fetid in the air.
The spirit is eventually identified by some of the Arcane Scholars as not being native to Trench, and they believe it is from somewhere much further in the north, from places far removed from this town. There are only snippets about one of their kind ever being encountered in Trench before, and the reports said it eventually became lost and left again, as will this spirit. It is indestructible and unkillable, as it is already dead. The only true defense is to, when the smell of rotten eggs comes along, to cover the mouth and nose completely. The burning of incense also helps, anything to block out the foul odor, which turns out to be the likely vector of its disorienting effect. If they happen to have a compass that unerringly shows direction from prior events, those too can be a protection of sorts finding their way back. If one travels too long out in the wilderness, though, there are fears that one might become as lost as the spirit and die in the wilderness, ultimately sharing the fate that brought it into existence. Even those who escape the spirit's wrath may have lingering memory issues, though those should pass over the next week.
WHEN: First week of January
WHERE: Anywhere around Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Natural Disaster Horror, Frostquakes, Falling Peril, Sinkholes, Fear of the Dark, Frozen Zombies!
WHERE: Anywhere around Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Natural Disaster Horror, Frostquakes, Falling Peril, Sinkholes, Fear of the Dark, Frozen Zombies!
At first you think you're being treated to something spectacular! There's a small scale aurora that shows itself in the sky over your head. It's breathtaking and quite stunning to behold. The truth of the matter is all too real almost immediately afterwards however. There is a dull, booming crack as the frozen ground underneath your feet breaks and shudders, giving way! It's an earthquake, or more accurately a frostquake. In and around the city of Trench, as the temperatures shift in the dead of the cold of the Bone Moon, ice flows and patches of snow shift and compress against the ground, causing localized earthquakes to occur.
These frostquakes can damage buildings, causing items to fall, breaking plaster and the like. They are not, however, strong enough to do permanent harm to the buildings unless they are themselves structurally unsound. Each of them is localized, their experience not traveling more than two city blocks way each time one strikes. However, if you are unfortunate enough to be outside when it happens, they have an alarming habit of striking under the feet of unwary sleepers. Every time one of these frostquakes occurs, a patch of ground opens up temporarily into a deep sinkhole!
Falling into the hole can be an unpleasant sequence of events, but the ground beneath is littered with snow and something soft. Though banged up, the sleeper should be able to survive the fall intact. It's getting back out that is the problem. The walls aren't sheer, but it's a difficult climb. A rope can be thrown down, but it's very dark and cold in the space, making it hard to see much of anything. The real danger lies in the fact that they find that they are not alone! The 'softness' that they landed upon turns out to be a small number of other unfortunate souls who once fell in a prior frostquake, their bodies freezing to death long ago and rising as undead, waiting for an opening to escape. They attack blindly and though they can be defeated, they are still quite strong. Unlike some zombies, they do not hunger for flesh, but for the escape from their icy tomb and will do anything to crawl their way out, where they can wreck havoc finally on the living! Better deal with them quickly!
These frostquakes can damage buildings, causing items to fall, breaking plaster and the like. They are not, however, strong enough to do permanent harm to the buildings unless they are themselves structurally unsound. Each of them is localized, their experience not traveling more than two city blocks way each time one strikes. However, if you are unfortunate enough to be outside when it happens, they have an alarming habit of striking under the feet of unwary sleepers. Every time one of these frostquakes occurs, a patch of ground opens up temporarily into a deep sinkhole!
Falling into the hole can be an unpleasant sequence of events, but the ground beneath is littered with snow and something soft. Though banged up, the sleeper should be able to survive the fall intact. It's getting back out that is the problem. The walls aren't sheer, but it's a difficult climb. A rope can be thrown down, but it's very dark and cold in the space, making it hard to see much of anything. The real danger lies in the fact that they find that they are not alone! The 'softness' that they landed upon turns out to be a small number of other unfortunate souls who once fell in a prior frostquake, their bodies freezing to death long ago and rising as undead, waiting for an opening to escape. They attack blindly and though they can be defeated, they are still quite strong. Unlike some zombies, they do not hunger for flesh, but for the escape from their icy tomb and will do anything to crawl their way out, where they can wreck havoc finally on the living! Better deal with them quickly!
lord asriel belacqua | his dark materials | darkblood
① ARRIVAL
② MISDIRECTION
③ WILDCARD
Arrival
He's keeping an eye on the world around him, but he's giving just as much of his attention to the twelve-legged spider he holds in the palm of one hand. Chrollo glances up when he's called out, and lowers his hand to put it back in his pocket as the spider crawls up his arm only to stop partway up.]
I think you can have your choice of several right now.
[His own cause isn't here for him to pursue, but he's not nearly as interested in throwing himself into a new one as this other Sleeper is. Chrollo spends a moment studying the leopard and the man.]
Depending on whether you prefer threats solved by violence or by other means.
no subject
[ the unusual spider draws his attention, and asriel looks between it and the sleeper holding it briefly. it could easily be a strange pet, but it's a habit to assume it's a daemon before anything else. there's nothing inherently wrong with spider daemons, but one tends to see trends in certain forms across certain professions.
asriel has not historically had many fans within those professions, most importantly.
he has to remember that he's in a new place now, and even familiar things can take on new meanings. it's too thoughtful and levelheaded for him, meaning it's probably come to him from stelmaria; he shoots her a look and then finishes his thought. ]
The impression I've gotten of this place so far is that humanity has many different concerns than those back in my world. There is a time and place for a soft touch, and considering us all crawling out of the sea as squid creatures is quite normal to the locals, I'm not certain this is it.
no subject
[The only thing worse than someone motivated for a cause is someone without one, looking for anything to hold onto. Chrollo has seen that before.]
That said, there does seem to be an abundance of monstrous threats, and those seem fairly straightforward.
[Chrollo doesn't sound too worried, but he's also not fully as detached as he would be if he were interacting with someone who knew him as more than a stranger on the street.]
But perhaps that should wait a little while as well, unless you're that eager to sink your claws into something.
[Is it a need to fight, or a need to do something, anything at all? Either one is a problem, but people who just want violence are easier to redirect to places where they won't get in the way.]
no subject
Do not mistake my curiosity for foolishness. It will take time to learn about this place, but I had hoped to save some by narrowing our scope in the asking.
[ he won't admit that he worries about what will happen to him if he's too idle. his cause defined him, so it would make sense that he ended when it did. there are a lot of empty voids in his life, but he only knows how to try to fill this one, but he isn't sure with what exactly anymore. the self-doubt only serves to make him unpleasant. ]
If monsters are what keep you up at night, perhaps an exterminator is what you need. I'm interested in something much greater than that.
no subject
No one has ever suggested that anything keeps Chrollo up at night, and he just gives this man a bland smile at the suggestion that he needs an exterminator to deal with monsters.]
I've always found that the worst monsters wear the shape of men, but that doesn't sound like your kind of problem either.
[Chrollo reaches into his pocket and pulls out the notebook he's been taking notes in since his arrival, and flips to one of the first pages he filled after his arrival. Running into someone knowledgeable as soon as he arrived was quite useful.]
The patron pthumerians are sick, or so I've been told. It's a relatively recent problem, too. Does that satisfy your need for something 'greater'?
no subject
I spent many years fighting against enemies like that, only to discover that they were but an arm of my true adversary. If you find yourself with enough of a recurring problem, you consider a source instead of engaging in futility.
[ he imagines he's being taken seriously now at the notebook's appearance. or it's an attempt to appease him so he'll go away. he doesn't care about the intent so long as he gets what he wants.
is it what he wants..? asriel isn't sure yet, but the fact that he has to think about it is a start. he exchanges a brief look with stelmaria as if to confirm. ]
I gather from what you're saying that these are either entities that should not be capable of falling ill or, in their doing so, have been enough of a detriment to everyone else to constitute a problem. Is that correct?
[ alright, so, fine... now his interest is piqued. ]
no subject
They are the strongest entities here from what I've learned. I couldn't say if they should or should not be able to fall ill, but I have heard that as they become ill, so do those of us who came from the sea. Treating our illness likewise improves their condition.
It's a curious relationship, if it's true. We're caught in a strange symbiosis, the patrons, us, and the people born here.
[It goes very much against what Chrollo knows about how abilities work, and he genuinely looks forward to investigating this himself. To understanding the nuances of it, the how and why. Even if it's not something he can use himself, it provides the same kind of puzzle he gets with skill hunting, even if it's not as easily explored.]
no subject
[ it's hard not to be bitter in his position. he sacrificed everything to ensure all people were guaranteed a freedom which they can take for themselves and is not granted by some greater entity. now he finds himself bound to something unwittingly. it disgusts him enough that the snow leopard rumbles with his unexpressed distaste.
he scowls a little, determined to abandon that thought; feelings are a waste of resources. ]
If it is unnatural, it may be similar to what I've observed. Something vital slowly draining from the worlds. Higher beings feel it more keenly than we do because more of them is made of the stuff.
[ asriel says "stuff" like it ought to be a proper noun. he dares not name what he's thinking because he's engaging in wild speculation. whatever asriel is now, he's still a scientist.
his mood's also improving, temperamental as expected from someone with a cat for a soul. stelmaria's tail twitches in a mixture of muted excitement and anxiety. ]
But it's in the blood here, isn't it?
[ he laughs darkly, having a thought. ]
They used to accuse me of all sorts of things, you know? Oh, heresy, of course. But all sorts of grotesque absurdities only the terminally
repressed would ever dream up. I suppose blood magic is relatively mild, all things considered. What do you do here? Are you a scholar?
[ the man goes around taking notes, which seems like a scholarly thing to do. ]
no subject
What is heresy but a break from fallible humanity, in the end it's up to everyone to decide what's true or not based on what they observe. Humans are often such deceitful and selfish creatures.
Being a scholar was never my calling. I do whatever catches my interest, or what I feel is necessary. There's a lot to learn here, and I doubt I'll run out of new topics any time soon.
[While Chrollo enjoys learning for the sake of it, that's been a mere side hobby for a long time now, something to do during long periods of waiting that accompany his true calling. This man, though, seems like he could be useful. If Chrollo finds himself in need of someone willing to push the boundaries of what's acceptable, of what's wise, in pursuit of answers.]
no subject
[ asriel has always been an idealist solving things at the top and assuming the rest trickles down. it's worked out well so far and he does his best (arguably), but he's never claimed to be concerned with the evils of humanity either, only the Authority. ]
I suppose that's well enough. Better a curious mind than the alternative.
[ he has no idea what chrollo might be thinking, but all leads are useful now. ]
I'm Lord Asriel Belacqua, and this is Stelmaria. Whatever else she's become, she is still my daemon.
[ a sigh. asriel almost had daemons figured out once. for all his curiosity, the idea of starting over is still tiring. ]
If you discover anything of interest, I should like to know about it. If you require compensation, I'm sure we can find something agreeable.
no subject
[It's something Chrollo has seen often in history. He has no interest in sharing the truth, or, in most cases, hiding it. Not on that scale. The little lies perpetuated to carry out a job aren't a grand deceit.]
I don't have any fancy titles or station, nor do I think that word, 'daemon', means the same thing where I'm from. I'm Chrollo Lucilfer, I'm afraid I don't have any introductions to make with The Spider. It had no form until now.
[Chrollo does give the twelve-legged spider a genuinely fond look. It has all its limbs, even if they were missing two legs, two people he has yet to choose replacements for after their deaths.]
If you feel I've pointed you in the right direction for researching why the Pthumerians are ill, would you mind indulging a few of my questions?
no subject
[ asriel has always done as he pleased, so why shouldn't anyone else? everyone is special. ]
This world seems better about that than my own, at least. Trench does not have the luxury when it's enough to survive, I suppose.
[ it's more challenging, and he doesn't mind it a bit. the challenges are just bigger distractions, and he'll be glad for those when he's more settled, and the immediate novelty of a strange new reality has worn off.
it would be easy to drag out the philosophical discussion further, but given chrollo's introduction, something else has caught his attention more directly than all that. coming from a world like asriel's, where the magisterium is just an exalted name for the church, it's not something you tend to hear in the wild. ]
In my experience, 'daemon' often has a negative connotation in many worlds. I'm curious, though, how someone fared with a surname like that if yours is one of them.
[ he has questions about that spider, too, strange as it is. too many legs, maybe. ]
I will answer your questions first, however. I did say I would compensate you.
[ and he doesn't have much else to his name right now. he'll not let on about it any more than he has to, though. ]
no subject
I'll start with how you have knowledge of other worlds, then, are you- or, were you able to travel freely between them or was it something you made or discovered?
[This is a first for Chrollo. He supposes it might not be impossible with nen, but what kind of person would it take that the expression of who they are would lead to an ability for traveling between worlds? The type of person drawn to being a Hunter, perhaps, but would being a Hunter satisfy someone with a thirst for other worlds?]
no subject
[ even now, here, after so much, the first steps are still exciting to recount. his work eventually took him to war, but he has never lost his passion for the science itself. ]
My work was in elementary particles, you see, and I took a particular interest in a specific particle that didn't behave as the others did. Difficult to detect unless you know what to look for and, rather more importantly, how to engage with it.
Eventually, I discovered that the same interaction that causes the Aurora borealis also causes the very fabric of the world itself to thin. With the right tools, I was able to confirm my theories visually and then, ultimately, I opened a way and crossed.
[ he makes it sound much easier than it was, as if accomplished with a snap of his fingers and not the span of years and dangers and, often enough, death. ]
I perfected that technology over time. The first attempt was quite—... crude. It became rather elegant by the end, however.
no subject
I don't think I understood all of that completely. Aurora makes sense, but it sounds like you're speaking about something specific.
[Chrollo knows very well how long new technology takes to set up and establish, and the pitfalls that are found in early implementations.]
First attempts in anything are rarely ideal, it's more luck than anything else.
[In technology, in nen. Everything, really. Skill hunting is a delightful exploration of the strengths and weaknesses of other people's creations. Sometimes turning a flawed and poorly constructed ability into something useful is more satisfying than stealing an ability that's already elegant and refined.]
no subject
[ but asriel circles back to the beginning because he is always interested in sharing his knowledge when it's wanted. ]
What do you know about the Aurora? There is no point in adding to it until we establish that much.
no subject
It's a light show high in the atmosphere when certain conditions align. I've never studied meteorology much. It happens over most of the world, but more commonly further north or south and very rarely near the middle ocean.
no subject
[ physics are already broken in Trench, so it should come as no surprise other worlds might also have unique features, and yet... ]
When particles in the upper atmosphere interact with the solar wind from the sun, we see the light show you describe. The combination of anbaric forces makes the boundaries between one world and the next much thinner, allowing light to cross. Under the right conditions, I was able to take a special photogram of a city in the sky.
What I was really looking for was called Dust. It has no charge and is invisible to the naked eye. It has the unique property of being selective, as well. A mountain with a tunnel carved into it will attract more than one never touched by man, and a wholly artificial structure gathers the most Dust of all. Adults are bathed in it, but children attract hardly any at all.
[ he watches, curious to see if chrollo might make any sense out of those examples. ]
As you might imagine, these revelations were alarming to those who fear most what they fail to understand.
no subject
[Chrollo follows the explanation easily enough. The magnetic field, the sun. The idea that auroras cause the barrier between worlds to be thinner is a bit more of a stretch, but perhaps those who are unaware of nen think the same of things Chrollo knows as simple truth.
At first he thinks the 'Dust' might simply be Asriel's word for 'nen', but he describes several properties that quickly disprove that theory.]
Interesting...
[Perhaps 'Dust' is attracted to aura. People leave very minute amounts behind that are usually undetectable, and only extraordinary craftsmen accidentally imbue an object with enough to be visible later on.]
And what does this have to do with daemons and how you use the connection as a source of energy?
[Chrollo can see the way aura flows between the two of them, very different from Chrollo and his own omen which behaves much more like an emitter's nen beast.]
no subject
I see where your priorities lie.
[ it's not a judgement; he wouldn't bother with a full explanation if it were. ]
Learning to control Dust and manipulate it allowed me to harness the energy present in the bond between human and daemon, which is significant. Stelmaria and I would essentially complete a circuit, and that energy is amplified and converted. At one point, it allowed me to construct a craft that could travel between worlds simply by having the intention to do so.
[ he's proud of it because it was amazing. ]
no subject
That must have been something to see.
[Asriel is certainly someone to keep an eye on.]
Turning will into action is an important skill to master.
[Was it the machine that made it work, or Asriel's certainty that it would work that allowed him to travel? There's no way for him to know for sure without risking leaving Asriel unable to do so by merely voicing the question.]
As for your earlier comment about my name... daemon is an outdated word to my ear, replaced by more modern terms. Few people give the church power over their lives anymore and fewer still truly believe. Money and power are the dominant religions now.
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[ asriel is the product of privilege, so he understands very well the importance of money. he likes to think he's done his best to put his position to the best possible use. ]
I picked up quite a lot about the technology in other worlds far more advanced than mine, but the terminology hasn't all stuck.
What do you call your spider if not a daemon?
[ he might as well ask. ]
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[Chrollo spends a moment moving his spider from one hand to the other just to watch how it moves all twelve legs.]
You have a rather dim view of governing bodies, but I can't say you're wrong. It has its uses, but there will always be places where such systems fail. Where 'justice' falls too heavily on those who are innocent and not at all on those who deserve it.
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[ he's met people whose daemons were invisible and internal and people who were followed all their lives by their deaths, so it's not unusual that there is no easy analogue to describe the spider. mostly it's a reminder of how little he actually knows for all the worlds he'd managed to cross into briefly in his time. ]
My view may be dim from your perspective, but it never needed to be more complicated than that. I have always fought for freedom and a just world ruled by sense and logic instead of fear and cruelty.
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