eyemind | event } lime, coconut, explosions

Entry tags:

event } lime, coconut, explosions

WHO: All y’all
WHAT: A nice vacation to ease everyone in
WHERE: Various locations on Alkonost Island, including Navi
WHEN: Sept 12-30
WARNINGS: Use ‘em in your threads if needed!

Welcome to Alkonost, the beautiful tropical island on the planet Tetagari where you have just made an emergency crash landing! You’ll be here for a while, so settle in and get cozy with your new shipmates until Navi is repaired and ready for takeoff.

Alkonost is a small island with an eponymous beachfront village, with the rest of the land covered in tropical rainforest, dry forest, and grasslands. Most of the land is still wild, as the Alkonost population is centered at the beach, though ancient ruins can be found a bit more inland. Alkonostians are a humanoid, amphibious people, with light green skin, gills, and webbed fingers; they are friendly and welcoming to tourists, business contacts, and intergalactic refugees alike.

Speaking of business, the main exports of Alkonost are various types of fish, shell jewelry, and a unique, dark red pearl that is only cultivated in the waters surrounding the island. These red pearls are highly prized on other islands and provide the bulk of income for the Alkonost population. They’ve also recently attracted a band of pesky pirates, which has taken to raiding export ships and even the pearl farms themselves, on occasion. Warning signs are posted near the shoreline and will be explained by locals if asked.

While visiting, you can elect to work as part of a fishing or pearl farming crew, or with one of the island’s fruit collection squads, and you’ll be paid daily in fresh fish and equally fresh fruit. For necessities of the non-consumable sort, the village open-air market is open every day for all of your shopping needs. Otherwise, grab some sun on the beach, dance and sing around bonfires at night, get to know your fellow passengers, or just chill on the ship and get to know Navi.

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Familiarity it may be. But even here, on a world he's never heard of, it's little more than a reminder of the past. Echoes, of things that once were. Not that he doesn't understand the desire to seek out the familiar. But it's a sentimentality he's largely tried to leave behind.

"Garlemald is predominantly a mountainous region. Oh, you can certainly find oceans if you go far enough in one direction or another. But they aren't on anyone's doorstep either."

Merely things that exist rather than anything anyone would seek out for the simple enjoyment of it. But the finer details of how things had been in Garlemald are of lesser importance. Something that he doesn't care to speak of, not only because he doubts there's a significant reason to (yet) but because he's far much more interested in the fact that the Light almost seems to retreat at his approach. A sign that, whatever the being before him is and whatever the nature of that Light, it's something that can be controlled.

(Which does also pose its own unique set of risks, but for now it doesn't seem that he needs to be anything more than wary.)

A quietly huffed sound of amusement at that. "That could be reasonably applied to nearly any region," So long as it was on the surface of a world in which oceans existed, anyway. "That said, one must travel an incredible distance to find a body of water in the Halls of Morning." Somehow he sincerely doubts this being knows what those are, thus no reason to avoid being pressed upon it further.

Then again what denizen of the Halls would be so inclined to go looking anyway? They had far too much to do to spend the day at the beach.

In the end, they both knew that Emet-Selch hadn't approached because he was interested in talking about the sea or their wholly unfamiliar to each other homelands. At least, not at this juncture. No, Murmur expects the reason behind this visit had more to do with their uniquely shared nature: being both beings of immense, if opposing, energy. While he still could not guess Emet-Selch's full intent he did not detect hostility. Wariness perhaps, which they both shared, and not something to hold against the other.

"Of course, you did not seek me out to reminisce about the lands from which we hail. How may I be of service?"

The assumption that he has no idea as to where the 'Halls of Morning' are is absolutely correct. It's certainly a fanciful name for a place, but that's hardly anything he hasn't run into before. And given that he's just been speaking of where he's spent a not insignificant portion of his recent life, it's easy enough to assume the same might also hold true for the being before him.

(Not that he wouldn't have been interested in further discussions on that topic, but it is, indeed, not the topic he'd had in mind when he'd approached.)

There's a faint smile at the question - far better to have things out in the open, or as much as they can be - and a brief nod, before he speaks again.

"Rarely have I encountered a being full of such unbridled Light. Much less one still capable of acting on more than mere instinct."

Though there's no direct question in his comment, there's a note of curiosity all the same. It's clear that the other is no sin eater (or at least, is nothing like the ones he knows), but if not that, then he has no idea what else he's looking at.

It felt a safe assumption, given that the name Garlemald meant little and less to Murmur. He was quite confident that he knew the name of every mortal settlement past and present on his world, so this would most likely mean this being hailed from a far more distant land. One that wasn't a Celestial realm he was familiar with. Not to say this being couldn't be one, though it seemed unlikely. Certainly not mortal, or at least not your typical mortal, at any rate.

(Murmur was ever open to intellectual pursuit. Once they understood each other a bit better perhaps they could revisit the topic.)

Far better to alleviate this uncertain tension, as well. Likely they were both burning with curiosity as to the nature and intent of the other. Though Murmur couldn't help but look faintly surprised at Emet-Selch's comment. "You have met other beings of Light?" Well now, that was most unusual. He was given to understand that they were a somewhat infrequent occurrence, compared to their darker counterparts anyway.

He folded his arms thoughtfully, reaching up a hand to cup his chin while he considered those words. "While I can attest to how some of my brethren may be mistaken as possessing little will of their own, singular in their purpose as they can be, I do not believe one would ever accuse it of being instinct," He mused, then locked his gaze back on Emet, offering a faintly apologetic smile for allowing his mind to wander slightly off topic. "I must admit I cannot recall encountering a being quite like yourself, either. Overflowing darkness, yet with no hint of the Infernal. Most certainly not a demon, you don't smell sulfurous."

That's... probably a compliment?

Revisiting the topic of their respective homes (in a manner of speaking) is something that Emet-Selch would be more than glad to do, even if it should happen to be at a later date. After all, until such time as he manages to find a way back to the Source, it's unlikely that he'll be going anywhere. And thus, there will be more than a little time for further discussion, should it happen to be warranted.

"If it can be called 'meeting' when the beings in question act on little more than base instinct, than yes. On a world all but consumed by primordial Light."

One where even the very laws of nature had been altered by that selfsame force, twisting and warping the world until it stood perilously close to the brink of destruction. Which, of course, is a point he isn't about to mention, or not directly. But the truth of it lingers in his comment all the same, should one care to look for it.

"And I should certainly hope not. It would be terribly inconvenient. Besides, the voidsent are something quite different. And just as insatiable as their Light-born counterparts, though some are still possessed of some manner of intelligence."

Given that they both found themselves quite stuck and unable to return at the moment they might as well make the best of it learning about each other's drastically different universes.

He did have a point, one could hardly call that a meeting. In a way that made it even more strange. Whatever those creatures were, they certainly weren't angels. Destruction on that level was wholly forbidden. A faint expression of concern crossed Murmur's features. Though muted, it was still present. "All but consumed..." He muttered to himself.

Yes, he'd like to learn more of that, as well. He didn't miss the implication, the devastation wrought by unbridled primordial light. Knowing full well his own capabilities and those of his brethren it wasn't a far cry from possible at all. Only the laws put in place by their father kept such things at bay.

"Voidsent, that is a name unfamiliar to me. It would seem were are indeed from distinctly differing universes. Tell me, the wild Light-born, what are they called?" He'll get back on track if prompted but now Emet-Selch has him dreadfully curious and he just has to know.

They're definitely no angels. Far from it, in fact, despite appearances. Nor, for that matter, are angels generally something that even exist on the Source, save for very occasional iconography, largely in that of long-forgotten civilizations. (The reasons for which he is certainly willing to get into, at some point. But for now, it's not something that is particularly relevant.)

"Sin eaters."

Which is a wildly fanciful name, given that they do very little of the sort, no matter how it might have seemed to the inhabitants of that doomed world. But the name has stuck, and he certainly doesn't care to try and change it. Assuming he even could, which is... frankly, unlikely.

"Still, I would agree that it certainly appears that we hail from vastly different worlds."

Murmur let out an amused sound at that.

"Well, that certainly paints a picture doesn't it? Mortals do have a way with words,"

And he meant that genuinely. They crafted their language like art, never failing to offer something new and clever. Sin eaters, yes Murmur could imagine exactly how such beings behaved. Terribly, putting it bluntly, and not at all angelic. After all the duty of punishing the sinful was on the shoulder of demons, not angels.

A nod at that, with voidsent and sin eaters being such foreign concepts Murmur was fairly confident that if they were even in the same universe they were definitely quite some distance apart. Maybe not even the same galaxy. That being neither here nor there at the moment, however, did still leave the matter Emet-Selch had approached him with.

"To answer your previous question; broadly I am of a group of beings labeled as Celestials. More specifically an angel, something I trust you are capable of keeping to yourself? Humans do have a tendency to become difficult when faced with knowledge of our presence." Which, of course, implied that he in turn had no desire to go blabbing to the rest of the ship about Emet-Selch. No reason to get everyone else all up in arms because strange immortal beings were living with them. "Which leads me to ask what your designation would be?"

"That they certainly do."

Not for nothing had he permitted himself a fondness in the arts - and theater in particular - during his most recent time spent playing at being mortal. And on occasion it had even managed to be genuinely enjoyable. Not always, but enough to make it worth his while.

(Nor is the assumption about how sin eaters act wrong. They are, very much, monsters, regardless of the element which has called them forth.)

"I would ask the same of you, but such a secret is easily enough kept." There have certainly been times where he's been free about his nature, yes. But that had been for a specific purpose. On that does not exist on the ship, and with few people who have even the slightest familiarity with his kind, there's even less of a reason to bother with doing so again. "As for me and mine, the proper term is Ascians."

"Nevertheless, it would be impolite to expect a silence from you I was not willing to extend myself."

There really wasn't any need to go telling anyone anyway, as Emet-Selch said, these secrets are easily enough kept. Playing mortal wasn't that difficult, after all. For the time being neither had reason to oust the other's cover. Truthfully doing so would cause more grief than he doubted either of them wanted to endure. The endless questions could be quite taxing.

At the word he frowned thoughtfully, leaning a little closer to inspect the ground beneath Emet's feet. "You do not appear to lack a shadow..." He mused aloud, intrigued by the choice in name. Perhaps it had something to do with the vessel he inhabited? Curious. "Now that we have the what out of our path, perhaps introductions are in order. I am Murmur." Yes this was fairly out of order, he realizes, even so they got there in the end.

"I would scarce be able to pass myself off as merely another mortal were it otherwise."

Whether casting one is a deliberate choice on his part or something to do with the vessel he inhabits, he doesn't mention. True, he doesn't expect that everyone is in the habit of checking to see if whoever they happen to meet casts a shadow, but given that he has spent long stretches in mortal company it's for the better that he does. Even if it's not directly something under his control.

"Emet-Selch."

There's a nod, with the name. One of understanding, both that they at least seem to have come to some manner of accord and that he's heard Murmur's name. Whether or not he'll ever be inclined to use it is another matter, but he's at least acknowledged hearing it.

"True. Eventually someone would notice."

As a general rule he found mortals to be painfully unobservant, but there were always exceptions to that rule. It only took one to notice something was off before everything became annoying. Whether deliberate or not wasn't important, only that it existed.

"A pleasure," At least they seemed to both be in agreement on what this was. An outreach of an olive branch, so to speak, an unspoken truce between opposing forces. Murmur had no desire to quarrel needlessly, and to him it didn't appear that Emet-Selch did either. Now that they had the pleasantries out of the way, perhaps they could go on to more pleasant topics.

"I am curious to know more of these sin eaters, and indeed Garlemald as well, should you be feeling generous."

For all that he doesn't - or rather, wouldn't - disagree with Murmur's observation that mortals tend to be unobservant a great deal of the time, the risk of that one person noticing something off had been too great for him to want to risk it. Not least of all because he had ended up spending a great deal of time in the public eye.

"I should have generosity enough to spare. But they are two very different topics; I can hardly speak about both at the same time."

He's still willing to speak about both, but one will by necessity need to come first.

All it took was one noticing and making a fuss to ruin the ruse. While sometimes it was fun to drop hints just to see if they were clever enough to pick up on them if one needed to remain hidden in one place for an extended period of time it was necessary not to take such risks.

Murmur considered the implied question for a time. "I believe Garlemald may be a more interesting topic than ravenous light beasts." They can talk about monsters whenever, Murmur was always more fascinated with mortal history and culture.

Dropping hints is certainly an enjoyable pastime, yes. One that he has often taken care to be more subtle at than at least some of his fellows, but he's had good reason, to over the years. Not least of all because it tends to aid in his foremost hobby.

"Garlemald it is, then."

Fortunately, the topic is one that he is more than willing to talk about. And almost uniquely positioned to do so.

"As I mentioned earlier, it lies in the mountainous regions of the continent of Ilsabard. And in those cold northern reaches, her people found safety, of a sort. You see, unlike most other people of that world, native Garleans have no innate ability for sorcery."

He is not bound by such rules of course. He may appear to be Garlean, certainly. But he is nothing of the sort, despite that appearance.

Certainly is. In Murmur's case it was extremely unlikely he'd be around the mortals long enough for it to matter if they ever figured it out or not. Emet-Selch's situation was obviously quite different. If he had to live among them, Murmur imagines he'd likely play his cards more carefully.

Murmur scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Indeed, I can understand how that might put the population at a distinct disadvantage from their neighbors. And if the mortals of your world are anything like those of mine, warfare is one of their favorite pass-times."

Not that he can point fingers on the matter, Celestials had no cleaner hands. Of course it went without saying that it was clear Emet-Selch was not bound by the same rules. But then again, he'd already clarified he was not Garlean.

"A wise strategy, to use hostile climates and terrain to your advantage. With that of course comes greater hardship in other areas." So, suffice it to say he expected the Garleans to be a fairly hardy people.

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event } lime, coconut, explosions

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brief mentions of Shadowbringers lore/setting details

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