ꙮ You don’t, yet, have a good intuition for the character of the light in Samudra. It could be mid-day, it could be later than that? You’re fed and watered, at least, delicious spicy stew from Whisker-Clan’s refectory. But you’re somewhere new, somewhere you’ve never been, and there’s new sights to see. Do you really want to stay indoors under such circumstances?
No song playing
Up next: 0 songs
2 listening
- Aurelius
- The Awoken
Scene Archives
← Active ScenesRipple's Docks
#awoken
#synthesis
loves a good home, but is hardly a homebody. Of course he’s going to take the opportunity to go carousing through the reeds of a new place!
takes a path along the coast of the city first, close enough that the water is inescapable from any corner of your eye, though it tries to when he glances up at the hexagonical towers further inland. But for the current moment, he’s got his eyes relatively level, taking in the place and people around him. Every now and then a particularly determined essence of seafoam will reach him (it’s a Herculean task, for seafoam), the scent of the sea and its invisible, humid embrace mixing with a flow of the air current.
ꙮ It’s hard not to find a path through the city where you can’t see, or aren’t thinking about, the water; even on the island proper, even when building-rafts are right packed close together. The sea surrounds, here, and it extends in every direction, and the -smell- of it in the air, the feel of it on your skin, is nigh everpresent. Distant sounds of dock-business; another Glass Ship approaching and unloading, this one laden with cargo from somewhere being carted out of the bubble box by box. A scampering of Kushtaka pups chasing after each other down a wooden walkway, laughing and hollering and making outlandish claims they ran past too quick to catch.
ꙮ How close are you -to- the water?
is effectively on a boardwalk’s level of close to the water- you hop a single railing and soon you’ll be ankle deep in sand and stone and a quick jog out will have you fighting the tides.
ꙮ Something small, with a voice like a bright bell, says: “Hello!”
looks about for the source of the voice! “Hello!” he responds before finding it.
ꙮ ”Hello! Hello!” You can’t quite actually see it, properly, but it’s coming from the waterline?
leans over the polished nearly railing, and then does a half-hop up, swinging his legs over to seat himself up on top of said railing. He starts focusing in, looking down at the waterline. “Hello and hello again!”
ꙮ There’s… a tiny, brightly-coloured creature in the water, all tendrils and streamers and soft, amorphous forms, with an underlying structure that’s like if intricate lace could swim. “What’s your name?”, it asks, with the same bell-bright cheer.
has got to take a closer look, and he pushes off of the railing into a graceful double footed landing. He lightly walks across the gleaming sand, closer to the creature. “My name is Awoken! What’s yours?”
ꙮ It wiggles and swims around in a tight circle; some of its bright colors shift, as the Awoken approaches. “I don’t know! Sometimes we like to ask people what their name is in case their name is our name also! It hasn’t happened yet.”
squats before the surf. “But you’ll know it when you hear it?” he asks, lightly, almost teasingly.
ꙮ ”Maybe?” It swishes back and forth, in the water, amiably.
: “Okay, then let me take a few cracks at it.” He brings a hand up to rub against his chin.
: “Senje? Mahou? Morningstar? Waver? Lethe?”
ꙮ ”Hmm. No. But those are cool names. Maybe they belong to someone else? Let me ask.” It emits a series of clicks and clacks and chimes and then goes back to swimming around in weird little imperfect circles.
: “Ah, it was worth the try.” He dismissively waves the chin hand. “But anyway, how’s the water treating you?”
ꙮ ”It’s nice and cool and comfortable. How is the air treating you?” Another of the creatures darts through the water, and chimes out “Hello!”
: “It’s light and breezy and tastes of the water! Oh- hello!” He shifts attention slightly, but honestly it’s more like he’s juggling between the two.
ꙮ The second one: “I heard that there were names happening!”
: “You want ‘em, we got ‘em! I’m Awoken! What’s your name?”
ꙮ It cheerfully says, “I don’t have any idea!” The first one turns around, out of a tight spin, and goes, “Oh, hello! I don’t remember my name, either.”
: “Zero for two, huh? Okay. I got five more on deck.”
: “Granphelgor. Sandy. Hikaru. Mischa. Bethany.”
: “Any bites?”
ꙮ Both of them spiral around each other for a second and then unison a cheerful “Nope, thank you though!”.
ꙮ From -behind- you, there’s the sound of gentle, muted, very random and aimless piano keys.
: “Ah well, what’s in a name, anyway?” he shrugs. “A song without a name is no less sweet,” the words playfully dripping from the tongue, but he doesn’t turn about just yet.
ꙮ A voice that sounds like many voices all at once, slipping into and out of unison and intricate, complex harmony: “First time meeting the noöplankton?”
: “Well that certainly sounds like a name, and far more concise how I would later recall them as such.” He does turn, now. “And yeah, first time that I can recall, at least!”
ꙮ Hovering behind you in the air is what looks for all the world like a collection of pearls, strung together on imaginary strings, forming swoops and catenaries through the air, loops and whorls-within-whorls; most of it is always, at all times, in motion in some capacity, even if the entire… entity? Is relatively holding still relative to you. It is, in the vaguest possible sense, approximating a humanoid shape, at least some of the time. And then - ⁂
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Onkyang Ngatso Nyamdu Chenrezig
goes very quiet, listening, rapt.
: “Hello!” He’s now miming the noöplankton’s tone and lilt.
waits until the song ends to respond, holding itself with profound care, its constituent pearls not clacking against each other at all until it’s over, and then, in wonderment and clean unison: “That one is… mine?” Another pause; it’s -visibly- thinking at max speed, pearls whirling and circling for a few moments, and then their voice is back to polyphonic complexity, almost trying to say more than one thing at the same time, just this side of legible: “Sorry! Sorry. There have been these -songs- and I am a song-collector and I think that I just heard my own and I am incredibly perplexed and forgot my manners. Hello.” It whirligigs amiably. “Anyways, I was about to say that the noöplankton tend to congregate here. Visitors from outlying towers and settlements often have not encountered them before. I could not help but overhear you offering them names. That was very kind of you.”
: “It wasn’t the least I could do! (That would have been offering no names.)”
: “But… that’s really interesting, what you just said! Well, all of it was interesting, but the song bit.”
: “You heard that too, yeah? It was beautiful.”
swivels around while staying crouched. “And did you catch the song’s name, too?”
whirligigs in bafflement. “You also heard it!?” They split into three -distinct- streams of pearls and immediately do a loop-de-loop around the Awoken before coalescing back into one person, in their excitement. “Nobody else has ever heard them before. Just me.” Wheels within wheels of them start spinning absently as the rest of them continues talking. “I have its name, but I have no grasp of its meaning. It is not Ancient, nor is it the common tongue, nor is it any of the constructed languages I am familiar with that have been invented and used by those on distant outlying towers. It is a mystery!” They sound -tremendously- excited by this.
eyes flicker to the side, and then back to the swirling pearls. His lips widen into a growing smile, of understanding and surprise.
: “Well then… do you have a name, my present pearlescent personage?”
spins their wheels vigorously at the Awoken, curiously. They KNOW that expression! That’s a great expression for a person to have! However, it is time to answer the polite direct question first, and speculate later! “I call myself Synthesis.”
: “Pleased to meet you!” He nods and slowly stands up, jamming his hands- thumbs out- in his coat pockets, and he leans forward.
: “Providence has smiled upon thee this day, for you will become enlightened!”
does something with their strands and whorls that is, somehow, immediately legible as ‘you have my attention’.
tries his best to prounce it: “Onkyang Ngatso Nyamdu Chenrezig…” he probably flubbed a bit here and there, but he’s not stopping now. “…is…”
then suddenly straightens up, his coat kicking foward as a hand of his shoots up to chest level, extending the pointer.
: “Oh, but I didn’t even ask. How do you feel about shortcuts?”
looks -immensely- perplexed, and its whorls become even more intricate, even more shaped-like-themselves, and they take quite a while to extricate themself from their own thoughts. “You have good Counsel, friend. That is a good question to ask. I…” -their voice shades into a smile’s tone. “-exhibit the virtue of Curiosity, perhaps to a fault. It once led to hardship for who I once was. I have, since, learned to be wary of shortcuts.” Another pause. “I hypothesise, however, that you understand the meaning of the words. Am I correct?”
takes a moment to digest this response, and there’s a slight head tilt in thought. But he’s quick to recover, and full-chested, he replies: “You are correct! I can, in fact, reveal the entirety of reality to you with a few careless words.”
: “And as happy I am to walk any strange path, I do realize it is hazardous for some.”
focuses, intently, on the Awoken.
: “However…” His chuckle is bassy, and tempting.
: “What’ll it be? Learn the truth on the beachhead from a wayward traveller? Or labor, wave by wave, eroding the mechanism which the universe hides from you?”
takes, again, a few moments to respond. They look out into the distance - into the sea, into the dark clouds overhead, shot through with light. “Mmm. ‘The root of knowledge is observation; the fruit is prediction of future events.’ If I do not observe facts for myself, how can I hope to correctly hold them within my strands? But how can I observe facts which are occluded and occult to my senses, yet available to yours? And what does that mean, if that is the case. Mmm.” There’s another long pause, and then they shift positions, and they start to sing.
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Sanctuary
ꙮ It is not a song with words, of course, but they reproduce the song effortlessly and correctly.
tilts his head back, his mouth slightly open, lips slightly pursed with a question he isn’t sure how to ask.
adjusts their position, and observes the Awoken’s reaction, and without any words spoken it seems to answer whatever question they had. They are -vibrating- with a strange sense of joy. “Hypothesis. You have heard -all- of the songs which I have heard.”
: “Now that, I don’t have an answer for!” He laughs from the chest, his head tilting back even more.
: “Where in the world did you even hear that song!”
laughs with the Awoken, a polyphonic, almost discordant joyous cascade of chimes and clacks and tones. “I have no idea! I keep hearing it! It is beautiful and true!”
: “It sure is. It always feels like a welcoming to a grand stage.”
: “Can you do The Rite ~ Overgrowth and Embers?”
looks at the Awoken like he’s just confirmed ANOTHER of their hypotheses without them even having to ask, and they’re pleased as punch about it, and they adjust position, again…
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: The Rite ~ Overgrowth and Embers
: “Ahh… yeah, that’s the one!” He stomps in the sand to the drums, remembering his movements- a weaponless slash here, a twirl and strike there- “-Fiend of brass and blue, remember the dance of the rite!” He swirls a finger into the air, and a circle of pellucid gnosis draws into the sand, and a flash of gnoisis produces the conical, filegree fiend, who takes a bow toward Synthesis before nodding at Awoken. The two move in concert with the music, Awoken dramatically pointing, the fiend manuvering its own weaponless strikes before calling out in a wordless howl- Awoken leaping over it with a two armed slash, the both of them righting themselves to dash forward and skid just past Synthesis, bent over in stage performance overly wide and theatrical slashings.
would be applauding the performance, if they had hands! As it is, there’s a flickering auroral light that winds its way up and down and through their whirls and catenaries, the core of them spinning rapidly in place, and you feel like that somehow conveys the appropriate emotion.
and the fiend take a bow, and the fiend sinks back into the ground, dissipating.
: “Now that’s a fun mystery. There’s only a handful of those who I’d say are aware of the same… oops, maybe that’s telling!” He jokingly raps himself on his head with his knuckles.
: “(It isn’t telling much, though, they’re also in town. You’ll likely meet them!)” he stage whispers.
: “(And they’ll upend the cart in their own ways, too!)”
looks thoughtful. “‘That which can be obliterated by Truth, ought to be’, after all.” They look -wry-, though, somehow. “Relinquishment is silent as pertains to some of its corollaries. And yet it is a Virtue. And if I ever felt like there was -not- much more to learn about this world in which I live, I would… simply cease.” Their wheels spin. “I would very much like to meet them, I think. And learn about what… outlying tower their circle calls home.” They look thoughtful, for a few moments, peering at the Awoken. “Hypothesis. I have heard some of their songs. And I have not yet heard yours.”
: “Is it still a hypothesis if it’s 100% true?”
laughs at a private joke. “A hypothesis can never be proven true. It can be supported, corroborated; it can face the light and be found fast.”
: “In that case… you still haven’t answered my offer. And to help twist the decision even tighter-“ He puts his hands back in the pockets, thumbs out again. That’ll happen a lot in this getup. “I know the lyrics too, but I think the song title alone would be enough to inspire you to walk a path that you could accept and develop for yourself.”
clacks to themself with amusement, considering the ramifications, and the ramifications of the ramifications, and the ramifications thereof, and– what happens is, they’re just lost in thought for a while, again. “…the title, yes. But not the lyrics. Too much to consider at once is liable to overwhelm the organs of perception and thought. I would not visit thoughtstorms upon the home that took me in.”
: “The pact is sealed.”
leans back, and points dramatically at Synthesis.
: “Translated, it is,”
: “All-together, All-seeing.”
flails some of their strands out in reflexive reaction to -something- about the way the Awoken said that, and some of the pearls detach, whirl -close- to the Awoken’s face for a few seconds, and then return to Synthesis’ gestalt. They tilt to the side, slightly, whirling in thought. “…Hunh. Noted. I thank you, scholar.”
holsters the dramatic point. “The rest is up to you, Synthesis of thought!”
is going to be lost in thought for a -while-. “Indeed. I am… very much looking forward to meeting the… rest? of you. I believe I shall prepare a gift, when I do.”
: “I’m looking forward to it! And in the meantime, would you care fielding intrusive and probing questions?”
: “I cannot promise I will be able to answer them, for all of the many reasons for which a question might not be answerable. But I am still a Scholar, and…” …they pause, for a moment, and their voice shifts, slightly. “…-I- believe that -means- that you should always be able to -ask- the question.”
: “Right! So!” He leans back forward, and his eyes have shifted from looking, to staring. “Y’know… this isn’t actually the first time I’ve interacted with a collective of ambulatory minerals, though you’re a lot more… actively fluid? (And… is a pearl even a mineral? You seem very pearly, at least.)”
: “But, still, that’s a really low sample size of interaction.”
whirls within whirls, and leans forward slightly, and reaches out a tendril to deposit a single small pearl into the Awoken’s hand. “A fragment of me, to study as you see fit. We are both what one can see with one’s eyes, and also, more than that. There is a mineral- like the iridescence produced by the shells of some animals that live in the sea. If you crack open a single pearl, that is all you will find. And yet!” A delighted auroral-shimmer. “It is not a question that yet has an answer which satisfies me! Many scholars study it.”
: “The form hasn’t hampered any communication or understanding, at least, your form.” He rolls the pearl around the palm of his hand.
: “Also… the gnosis control which is bound to you…”
: “It glows with a noticable intensity along four axis.”
: “What… am I observing, here?”
whirls, and whirls, and looks inward, in perplexity. “…Again, you possess powers of observation which I do not. Fascinating.” Several beats. “I… something which, in a way, was also me, had capacities which this me does not possess. I…” -they consider for a moment, how to express this. “If I split myself in half, and did not reunite, each half would be… much less than what I am. I lost a not-insignificant fraction of myself. I hypothesise that what you observe is a… scar, from that process. But I cannot be sure.”
has a moment of reflection on what it would really mean to poke at a scar, and clearly the reflection did not stop him at all, because his hand goes to the side of his belt.
: “So… prepare the senses, focus your gnosis, because what you will experience through a safeguard of cork and glass is about to be produced in front of you. Be determined, and be quick, for a chance to observe lightning is measured faster than a heartbeat.”
moves his fingers, and there’s a light clack sound, and he holds up the bottled Potential Essence, a thumb firmly holding the cork in place.
: “Ten.”
: “Nine.”
: “Eight…”
-
Synthesis, the Arcanist invoked their Alethic 🔴burning gnosis [d4: (2, 3)] -> 3.
-
Synthesis, the Arcanist used their techné It Looked Back (Lower DC when attempting to comprehend sidereal concerns.)
extends their strands with open curiosity and wonder- an immediate, impulsive decision, under the time pressure, rather than a careful calculation -
ꙮ -and perhaps that’s why they don’t really get anywhere, in the brief moment that they have available; they flinch, stopping themselves from -truly- applying a probe of burning gnosis to the sealed jar out of concern for what that might do to the seal, the jar, its contents - the impulse, of course, to reach out -towards- the unknown, countermanded by the impulse to take care with the unknown and its unknown parameters.
pulls their extended strand back, letting those pearls which got closest to the jar circulate within the rest of their own body.
: “-threetwoone!” The bottle is gone as quickly as it appeared.
: “A fascinating, perplexing specimen with pockets full of fascinating, perplexing specimens, I see.” They kind of hunker down on themself, a bit. “It… contained? No. Could become? What could it become. I am unsure. It could become. Does that comport with facts available to you?”
: “Sure does. Pretty good for a glance!”
: “There’ll probably be a safer space to study it, or toy with it- same thing really- later, Archie probably has a plan.”
: “He usually does.” A pause. “…In whatever way you were responsible for keeping him well, and ensuring his safety, while he was away, I thank you.” It’s another unspoken extended hypothesis. Also, apparently, word that he’s back’s traveled fast.
: “It was a group effort. Things are rough out there!” His bright smile says a lot.
: “Then your circle has done well, and I am glad of it.”
nods, his smile softens in appeciation.
: “I guess that’s a lot of the high-concept questions out of the way… maybe a few more still bobbing about on the surface, but I feel kind of heavy from all of them at the moment.”
: “So like- easier, tourist questions!”
: “What’s the name of this city? What’s the best thing to go see during the evening? Is there a noöplankton that does know it’s name? (I forgot mine, but made a new one, so it’s okay!)”
looks amused, and little rivulets of themself break off internally to track each question, and re-join when they answer: “Ripple’s Rest, or just Ripple. Sometimes ‘The Rafts’, or people will just talk about ‘Whisker-Clan’ because this was their place, first, and they opened it to everyone who… wished to be close to, but not OF, the Academy.” Beat. “There’s usually… dances that happen?” This was a question they clearly do not have a great deal of empirical evidence to point towards answering, and they move on with alacrity. Beat. “I have never spoken with a noöplankton who knew their own name. Or… mine. They forget, you see. Anything you talk to them about does not persist beyond the talking. They live in an eternal, singular moment. It must be very strange, to be a noöplankton.”
: “Heheheh, beings entirely of the present. How interesting!”
: “And I imagine even the wisest scholars still need a support network- for sustenance, for support, for companionship. It takes all kinds!”
: “‘No mind is sufficient to examine its own errors; bring your best thinking before the best thinker who disagrees with you.’ The Virtue of Counsel.” It seems likely that there’s more to the Kushtaka dances of Ripple than the Academic Virtues, but you’re not going to get it from Synthesis.
: “What are all the Virtues?” He tilts his head, before offering “Are they many in number?”
: “They number twelve, in total. And… mmm. No, twelve. And of the Virtues, the first virtue is Curiosity.” They swirl, elegantly, vaguely in the Awoken’s direction. “A virtue you clearly and nobly exhibit, scholar. And then: Relinquishment, Lightness, Evenness, Argument, Empiricism, Parsimony, Humility, Perfectionism, Precision, Scholarship, and finally Counsel. One is… expected to hold all Virtues evenly in one’s heart.” Something about their tone suggests that they feel this is honored more in the breach than in the observance.
slyly grins. “I see.”
: “Well…it… takes all kinds!”
: “Also, I guess… how do you… sustain yourself? The aformentioned rock collective drank of the light provided, but…” He glances up at the heavy cloud cover.
gestures, grandly, at the sea itself. “The sea provides me with all that I need. As long as I am stronger than its currents.”
: “Huh!” He arches his eyebrows, not really sure what he was expecting for an answer, but nods in satisfaction all the same.
: “Well, how about we hop off this beach, and help me take a look around, if’n you’re not busy.”
: “Showing a fellow scholar around Ripple for the first time would be an honor.” They still haven’t… asked the Awoken their name? Maybe that was just the noöplankton’s job.
What’s in a name, really?
: “By the way… did I ever introduce myself? I got lost rattling off names for the noöplankton, I might have dropped my own in there, somewhere.”
startles, with a varicolour flicker across all their strands! “I do not think…” Some strands whirl, carefully, methodically. “No, you did not. There were other questions on my mind!”
: “Heheheh. That’s another point in favor of ‘names are overrated.’ Mine’s Awoken!”
: “They are useful! But many tools are useful, and some very few are strictly necessary. Names are a choice we make, and continue making.” Spinning pearl-strands. “Awoken! It is a pleasure to meet you. Let us observe that which Ripple grants us for observation, then. Shall we?” And they carefully wave goodbye with a tendril-strand to any noöplankton that might have still been hanging around.
: “We shall! Goodbye, nameless!” He waves to the sea, and starts making tactical asension maneuvers as he clambers up the side of a rock, then hops up to have his hands catch the railing, and pulls himself up and over.