Let's do the Test Drive Again

[wolof]

I. BEARING FRUIT (NEW CHARACTERS ONLY)

It starts out as a pleasant dream. You’re in your favorite place, with your favorite people. It’s a moment of idyllic comfort.

And then, it goes wrong.

The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.

So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—

You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.

I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.

You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.

The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.

From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.

And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.

II. BOUGH-BREAKER, ROOT-QUAKER

There are new Shard-Bearers at the Tree of Life, and Yima has asked that their elders return to the Tree to greet them, to bring them forth and answer their questions. She warns that it will be unlike the last time, for the Dryad's presence has gone -- the root-caverns of the Tree are damaged, the previous actions of some of the Shard-Bearers have left it injured, blackened by ill intent. Be careful, Commune where you must, but be aware that the Tree has reacted to its injury and will seek out the space within your Communions to make its agonies known.

All will experience the consequences to the actions of the few.

Whether awakening within or descending once more into the cavernous, root layer of the Tree of life is precarious; passages are maze-like, with claustrophobic squeezes and sudden chasms. Worse yet, is the miasma that hovers in the atmosphere. It leaches into your eyes, your skin, the space below your fingernails and drags through your lungs with every inhalation. Images of explosions, of fire and the sensation of shrapnel tearing through you begin to spark like fireworks within your mind. The pain builds, souring as it does.

The ambiance here is revolting. Great chasms have opened in the environment, threatening to pour inattentive Shard-Bearers into the Tree's deeper underbelly. The cloying, dark vapors around everyone dull the senses, until those you may have entered with are gone, or perhaps new bodies have joined you in the rancid space. The miasma urges you towards your baser desires, your desperate violence, and even as the Tree's pain evokes a sense of desperate self-defense, your Shard warms upon your body.

Somehow, the Tree still seeks to Commune with all -- pressing its need upon you: a single flame. A roaring pyre. A chilled ember.

THE GAME IS AFOOT

The Tree of Life cannot communicate but in abstract images and sounds, but the general gist of its need is eventually grasped by all Shard-Bearers: the miasma present is the result of an attack upon the Dryad that once lived among the roots of the Tree. Actions taken by other Shard-Bearers have left the Tree in dire straits, deeply wounded and unable to prevent itself from naturally lashing out in its own defense as it dies. It cannot let go of those it has imprisoned, until they have revealed their nature to it - until it knows it can finally, finally let go.

Characters can decide amongst themselves how to deal with the threat of miasma. It's easy to figure out, as your shards will naturally want to absorb what's similar to discord within your shards, but just like with discord, holding hands, or joining together in some way will allow the pain to be shared amongst everyone in the group. There's no such thing as failure, but if a character decides for the group, there may be the opportunity for intervention…

• Characters may choose to take on the role of a martyr, accepting the Tree's miasma ( its pain ) upon themselves as the sole sufferant. They will experience excruciating pain and lasting effects, but will spare others from this trauma.
• Characters may also choose to share the pain among themselves, though doing so will require Communion to be shared between all parties -- this will result in the temporary collapse of boundaries and barricades, and emotions and memories may flow against their will into others.
• Characters may also decide to do nothing at all, whereupon their decision to take no action will result in the miasma growing stronger, denser and more cloying until they are rendered unconscious and ejected from the roots of the tree.
• Have you a choice unique to your character that wasn't mentioned? Might you try to heal the tree's pain, or perhaps harm it further? If you're making the attempt, make sure your group is aware and submit your record of action to the link included below!

This can be done in groups of 2 to 4 players, and three is a recommendation - if you can swing it! It’s more fun when you get into philosophical debates, right? Regardless, when your group comes to a decision, please record it here. These don’t have to be fully threaded out to be recorded, so the conclusion can be discussed OOC if you prefer. Actions can be submitted until JANUARY 9TH, after which a tally will be taken of decision and filed away for later, devious uses.

III. TWO CITIES, ALIKE IN DIGNITY BUT WE ALL KNOW YIMOMMY'S WHERE IT'S AT

Having just celebrated the dual-natured festivities known as the Year's End Festival and Qiasu, Springstar and Highstorm ( respectively ) are wrapping up the period of time where Kenos a celebrates unity and togetherness, coming together with friends and family, to be kind to others and share in one’s wealth - whether that comes in the form of knowledge, monetary gains, or the exchange of gifts and one’s time. While the core festivities are over, many of the residents of Kenos are still caught up in the celebratory mood; those who are not, have begun to fret and whisper about a rumor that has spread throughout both cities.

( Many more residents are attempting to get rid of their excess stock, and may attempt to pawn off kitschy goods and, strangely, unclaimed gifts for people they claim they have no memory of, or simply do not exist. )

With the new Shard-Bearers present or en route, it is Kathova and Cetina that approach the established ones, requesting that they form mentorships with the new souls to assist them with the integration process. To this end, they have both provided a centralized zone in both Highstorm and Springstar for a small, casual meet-and-greet to be held before the new Shard-Bearers are unleashed upon Kenos as a whole.

Additionally, as Springstar and Highstorm are holding their events on different days, it is possible for the knowledge-hungry to participate in both informational sessions -- the tones and opinions held by both cities are doubtless to differ, and some Shard-Bearers who have chosen to harmonize with either faction may even find their way to the opposing faction's session as well. After all, the year's end is still lingering in the air, and cooperation is the current name of the game.

SPRINGSTAR, αιώνιος ήλιος

In Springstar, the seat of the Tribune becomes available for such a forum. While a section of the building itself has been reserved for the meeting between fresh faces and experienced Shard-Bearers alike, the hustle and bustle of Heliopolis continues around them -- acolytes still gather their robes and tomes, hurrying from their quarters to lessons. A score of young militants march in step across the yard to the training grounds.

Tables draped in white-and-gold-trimmed fabrics fare filled with fare common to Springstar's warmer climate -- fruits and wines, savory smoked meats and roasted vegetables, a series of meze platters and souvlaki skewers have been lain out to encourage forum participants to snack as they speak. The atmosphere is light, ambient with informality and friendliness, though topics will inevitably stray towards philosophic, Springstar's meeting grounds are decorated with handsome chaise lounges and slouching klismos chairs in small, intimate groupings.

HIGHSTORM, луны-близнецы

Eternally in opposition, Highstorm provides the Manor's courtyard as the setting for their informational meeting. Here, formality is of utmost importance, with attending Zenith loyalists and residents dressed in beautiful, albeit austere attire -- they are, after all, standing before Lady Yima's home. A buffet-style luncheon is spread alongside one of the largest reflecting pools, wherein you may gaze and find your memories revealed in retrospect upon the water's surface.

There are few places to be seated in the Manor's courtyard, resulting in a milling of bodies as they flow and ebb between smaller gatherings, clustering in small-to-large groups with small platters and shimmering flutes of drink held in their hands.

RUMOR MILL

In both locations information passes between all in a forum, spread and disseminated among the masses - it's a good opportunity for city residents, faction loyalists and interested new parties to share and share alike. Once the meet-and-greet has concluded, twin missives from both of the faction leads are read out -- invitations for all present to explore the cities to their heart's content, and warnings about stumbling ill-prepared ( or at all ) into the Below, or worse yet, the Beyond.

No matter how conversations between player characters go, everyone will walk away with the following knowledge to ensure new players do not feel "behind" in terms of what has previously happened on Kenos TV.

• Cyrus, the head of the Meridian faction is a native aristocrat of Springstar, who provides characters with an iliachtida, or sunbeam. This item tethers a character to their world, ensuring it does not fully disappear. His stance involves the idea that, using Meridian's light, worlds can be restored and you may return home.
• In contrast, the head of the Zenith faction is Yima, who has been the head of Highstorm since - arguably - its inception. She provides characters with a Shard of that they love most, to protect and hold. Yima believes former worlds to be lost, and looks to the future instead.
• While Harmonization occurs as the characters' Shard ( literally the manifestation of a character's soul! ) accrues the natural energies generated by Meridian or Zenith, Discord is also as natural an occurrence -- a symptom, in fact, of that process. Discord is best reduced by someone from the opposite faction, and is also influenced by the Aspect of one's character.
• Cyrus likes enchiladas.
• Many individuals recommend the following locations to new arrivals, as a means of enjoyment, involvement or further information-seeking: Highstorm's Court at Yima's Manor remains a great area for reflection and self-discovery, while the Tomes - a series of libraries - possess a magnitude of amassed knowledge, both foreign and relative to yourself. Heliopolis, the capital of Springstar, is the core of government and administration, and houses many avenues towards involvement in the goings-on of the city. Likewise, the Psychagogía District is the beating heart of entertainment within an island known for its passions.
• Rumors of past exploits linger on the lips of many. Did you know that one of Meridian's Harmonized slew one of Zenith's before the eyes of countless bystanders? That there was an expedition of Meri and Zenite Shard-Bearers dispatched to Alenroux, and some came back brutalized! Did you hear that the Shard of a Zenite is being held hostage by the Meridians?
• The new marking that has appeared upon your character's body is known as their sign of Aspect, and supposedly correlates to the fundamental truths of their soul. A Shard also exists, and is known as the characters' soul itself.

NOTES

Welcome to Kenos! As a reminder, all new players need an invite to play in the game, which are now open.

This log is Game Canon. Any characters who are not apped to the game will disappear. If Cyrus or Yima are asked, they’ll explain that this happens sometimes, since not every soul has a strong tether to Kenos and sometimes return to the Timestream. They’re fine and may even return to Kenos one day, but for now weren’t able to make the full journey.

As a reminder, your character has a Shard somewhere on their body that encompasses their soul, so keep note of where you're sticking it on their person for reference! Additionally, they have a tattoo of their Aspect somewhere on their body. Please be mindful this Aspect will be assigned to you upon approval and whatever you choose for the TDM may be temporary (for new characters)!

For the Highstorm and Springstar prompts, both cities will be fully open and accessible to all characters once they are saved from their rather harrowing ordeal at the Tree of Life. For prompt ideas and any general information about the cities and what you can find there, please see the Navigation page and check out the locations!

FOR NEW PLAYERS:

When characters emerge from their cocoon/the ground, characters may be wearing their normal clothes, or they might be nude. Up to you!

At some point in the days after leaving the Tree of Life, new Shard-Bearers will have a dream, even if they're usually not capable of sleeping. All new players should read this post, since this details how they'll learn about both factions and their goals and should help them make a decision in which Faction they'd be drawn to.

New characters will not have access to any canon abilities on the TDM.

Your character will be offered temporary housing either at the Heliopolis district or Yima's manor for the first few weeks after their arrival. They will also be given a stipend for basic supplies like clothing and personal effects, and food is served in the cantina (Heliopolis) and at regular meal times in the Dining Room (Yima's manor). Once they Harmonize, they will get personal permanent chambers and a fancy retainer in their Faction's city. Wow! 🌈

CODING

Comments

III-A

[sterngaze]

[After long enough spent navigating city life both before and after being ripped from his home world, Liem has learned to keep a certain amount of discretion when it comes to the nonsense he encounters out amidst Springstar’s noise and bustle. An enterprising do-gooder is always on the lookout for opportunities to be useful, of course, but a city-dweller also knows when to mind his own business.

So when he spies an unfamiliar face making one of Springstar’s locals suddenly quite nervous about the book they’ve fobbed off on him, Liem just watches that shit go down.

His participation in the forum so far has been a little more on the austere side. He’s been spending his time wandering around the hall to talk to different people, being not especially tempted by the chairs set up to accommodate the various guests lounging around the venue, and the drink glass in his hand appears, upon closer in spection, to be full of water. The past few weeks have included enough unfortunate, impulse-driven incidents that, where drinks are concerned, he’s opted to just cut himself off.

Liem waits, sipping his water and regarding Anders through the tinted barrier of his lenses, until the local in question has extracted themself from that interaction, possibly to seek the services of a curse-lifting mystic. He makes no effort to pretend that he hasn’t just observed the entire exchange when he asks,]

So, what’s in the book?

[glowup]

[Broadly, Anders likes to think of himself as someone keenly aware of anyone who might be watching him. Often this manifests in twitchy paranoia or its polar opposite: going ham in public, but he likes to think he is very cool and collected under pressure, after years of experience with being, in various ways, hunted and/or scrutinized.

Of course, that mostly applies to Thedas, and specifically, Kirkwall, where he's memorized all of the Guard's patrol routes and Templar posts, so while he may be hamming up the cursed nature of this book for this poor gift peddler, and flipping through the book with open amusement once they've gone, it's right back to near-startling when someone comes up to ask him a question. He snaps the book shut and fixes Liem with a look like he's caught Anders doing something he shouldn't— which is "being unawares," in this case.

For the briefest iota of a second, he misses Kirkwall. Where did this guy come from.]

Nothing really, unless you know something I don't.

[--But he's recovered from that little moment! And he opens the book to some page in the middle and holds it up for Liem to observe what appears to be toddler scribbling. Very cultish. Very cursed.

He flips a page. More scribbles. A drawing that someone might try to pass off as a cult symbol of some kind is definitely just a child's broad interpretation of a dog. It goes on.]

Ideas? Or do I look that much like a slack-jawed idiot? If someone tries to trick me again, my feelings might be hurt.

[sterngaze]

[Liem, with a faintly raised eyebrow, regards the borderline-guilty look that the man shoots his way and wonders if he ought to invest in a pair of clickier shoes. He wasn’t intending to sneak up on him, but this would be far from the first time he’d walked up to someone and managed unintentionally to catch them unawares. It’s not the most reassuring air to cultivate.

Well, that’s a shopping trip for another day. He drifts closer to observe the book’s open pages, which appear to be filled with unintelligible scrawlings. Perhaps they could be taken as the work of a mad cultist, but they do look rather more like the scribblings of a very small child.

He hums faintly.]

I was going to say that they probably hoped you’d just be polite about it. You know: graciously accept their rubbish and walk it to a bin when their back was turned.

[His assumption had been that this person had a whole trunk’s worth of garbage and didn’t care to pay the fine to have it all taken away by the city, so they needed to pawn it off on strangers.

But.]

In that case, though, I have to say that’s the most credulous con artist I’ve ever seen.

[glowup]

[Liem tapdances his way across town... Or: it's a little bit of Liem's apparent natural sneakiness and Anders' baseline assumption that anyone trying to get the drop on him is a) actually doing that, or b) doing it to Get Him. It's fine now! This droll man in his dark glasses is probably not doing those things. He's decided.

Anders shrugs and turns a few more pages of the book, to really marvel at all the severe lack of real writing in this thing. Maybe it was a real book once, but whatever text it might have contained is too obscured now...]

Maybe I'm just cleverer than they are. [lol] Or they wanted to leave before I started asking real questions.

[Well, whatever! He shuts the book and tucks it under his arm, giving Liem a raised eyebrow. Hmm.]

How polite is it to eavesdrop when I'm being swindled? Unless you're in the market for a cursed tome— I happen to have acquired one fairly recently.

[badum tsh]

[sterngaze]

Well, you’re the one holding the book, [he observes.] So, assuming that offloading it was their goal, I suppose they succeeded.

[Maybe this feather-loving man is correct, and the trash peddler just wanted to make their exit before things got any more complicated. Presumably, they’ll just find somewhere new to hawk their undesirable gifts now that this venue is haunted by this ominous, uncooperative blond.

This blond, who is now giving him a Look. Liem meets the raised eyebrow placidly, taking another sip of his water.]

I would think when someone is being swindled would be the most appropriate time to eavesdrop. But you seemed to be handling yourself competently, so I saw no reason to interject. I will have to pass on the “tome,” though.

[Liem reaches into a jacket pocket with his free hand, and withdraws — a glove. Made out of an intertwined mess of tiny, slowly wriggling vines.]

I already received my own cursed object.

[glowup]

[Sir, play with him in the space and accept the re-grifting of his tome. Anders clicks his tongue in mostly put-upon disappointment, mollified by the half-compliment of "you were handling that con just fine," but the bar is low. He should ease up on the bits, he thinks— remember how to have a normal conversation with another person, a skill left far behind in Kirkwall.

So, okay. Quit doing bits in self-defense, especially when this little guy with the glasses seems perfectly not-hostile.

He does pull a face at the wiggling glove, though.]

That might actually be cursed. If you haven't tried putting it on, I am pointedly suggesting you do not. Unless you're interested in losing a finger.

[Yuck. Burn the glove.]

[sterngaze]

[That reaction is, in Liem's opinion, probably the only appropriate response to being faced with any article of clothing that wriggles. He does not make any move to don the glove, holding it by the tip of one wiggling finger as though reluctant to let too much of it touch him at once. Some of the little vines curl questingly around his fingers, which is very much the worst thing he's endured all day.]

Ah— Does that mean you're not interested in a trade?

[Liem frowns slightly, as though disappointed. Sure, he doesn't have a use for a book full of a child's scribblings, but to get rid of this glove? He'd consider it.

Well… probably not really. That seems like a rude thing to foist on anyone, let alone a fresh arrival. Still, he gives the glove a little shake for emphasis, and to dislodge some of the more curious tendrils.]

I'm quite happy with my present number of fingers, in fact. And it's far too hot these days to be wearing gloves regardless.

[glowup]

If I were ready to trade, that would make you the most adept con artist in the square.

[Because really, anyone who'd see that glove and agree to trade for it instead of just having it foisted upon them involuntarily is... surely an idiot. Liem would be a genius at the art of the grift. Anders shakes his head, lifting a hand to politely gesture no thanks, in case it weren't already clear. Whew.

He gives his own hand a glance, brief and with a slight frown, because it would be convenient to simply snap his fingers and take care of burning that glove in a heartbeat, but. For some! reason! that's not working! And he's not thinking about it. Just looking at his hands funny, but there's a creepy glove in the mix, so that's fine.]

Have you tried abandoning it under a bench somewhere? Giving it a pot to live in?

[Surely, planting it in something is a great idea.]

[sterngaze]

[In terms of first impressions Liem could be making on new arrivals, “not an adept con artist” is not the worst he’s ever made, but it’s pretty low on the list. It is, however, deserved after his little joke, so he accepts the observation with a slightly rueful expression.]

That would be terribly irresponsible of me, don’t you think?

[He gives the glove another look, contemplating whether he should put it back in his pocket for now. He didn’t love having it in there before, truthfully, but he also is not, as this man suggested, about to abandon it under a bench. First of all, that would be littering. Second of all, what if someone else found it and did decide to put it on? The result would hopefully just be weird and unpleasant, but for all he knows this thing might actually be hazardous.

He shifts his grip on it so he’s holding the edge of the glove instead of one finger, and slides it carefully back into his coat pocket, where it can go back to writhing against the pocket lining, looking for loose threads.]

I don’t want to imagine what might come of providing it anything resembling a place to grow. I don’t need a matched set on my hands.

[Not that he’s intending to ever put the glove(s) on his hands.]

What I actually need is a handy fire somewhere that doesn’t see too much use. I’d dispose of it in the kitchens, but frankly, I’d worry about residue contaminating the food. One never knows, with magical things.

[glowup]

[Anders gives the glove a stage-shudder as Liem tucks it away again; such a gross thing, but as long as he doesn't have to touch it, the disgust is mostly for the theatrics of it. Without thinking he raises a hand after, gesturing with a flick of his fingers to... no result, but it's definitely a gesture that should be doing something. If there's the barest hint there of something, the tiniest brush of magic he can't quite push out right now, well.

It was supposed to be a handheld fireball. He sighs at his hand, put-upon. He can still feel the magic, or else he might have a very different reaction to being, um, stopped-up like this, but as it stands: funny hand gestures.

Helpfully, he explains:] I'd give it a whirl, but I'm apparently completely spent.

[And there's a careful pause there that he makes look casual, the ticking clock that starts in the back of his mind immediately whenever he alludes, no matter how obliquely, to being a mage. Inevitably, every new interaction comes to this moment, the one where he judges a person's reaction to mages and decides whether or not to cut his losses early and go.

This time, with funny finger-wiggling!]

Catch me in a couple days and I'll light it up for you, if you like.

[sterngaze]

[Glove safely contained for the time being, Liem turns his attention to an area that he has been shamefully neglecting up until this moment: volunteering his experience as a senior shard-bearer, which is ostensibly why he's at this thing to begin with. Diverting small talk aside, he hasn't really been providing much service at all to this man with the twitchy fingers — which, he assumes given context, are meant to be the gestures of some kind of spell.]

Ah. That will last until you harmonize, one way or the other.

[Liem's reaction to the revelation of the man's potential magical ability appears to be: no reaction. Maybe a touch of knowing sympathy, in the set of his mouth and in the tone of his voice. He was in that boat for close to two months, himself. Hadn't been keen on rushing his choice.]

I don't really know why; something about the way magic in this world flows, I suppose. But if you've a strong leaning, perhaps it will only be a day or two.

[His mouth twitches into a small, dry smile.]

If I'm still carrying this thing around by then, perhaps I'll take you up on your generous offer.

[glowup]

[Oh, good, a person with basic empathy. Anders relaxes minutely, the ticking clock towards his personal doomsday paused for now, and manages a brief echo of a grateful smile— for the sympathy, because Maker, this is miserable. If he doesn't get his hands on some magic soon he's going to develop a twitch.]

Don't say that, you'll tempt me to show off.

[Not that he would ever make any rash decisions just to get access to his magic back. No. He loves wandering around feeling defenseless and half of himself, absolutely.]

You picked, I'm assuming. Was it [harrowing] difficult?

[The choice, or the process itself... he'll take either.]

[sterngaze]

Will I?

[Liem would not have thought crisping a glove made of plants to be the sort of activity that would require one to be showy about, so what this little quip says to him is that this man doesn’t actually need much of an excuse. He makes a note to meet this gentleman with the liking for fire somewhere uncrowded if he does ever volunteer something for him to torch. You know, as a friendly little bonding activity.]

I found choosing difficult, yes.

[He’s not going to explain his entire grisly history with being forcibly indoctrinated by a world-ending tyrant back when he’d first been taken from his own home. If his new acquaintance has been lucky enough to skip that entire bit of unpleasantness, he sees no reason at all to dredge it up.]

No one leaned on me to make a choice, so I spent several weeks just… getting my bearings. But it’s difficult to get anything done in this place with no affiliation.

[Also not having access to magic was a little inconvenient, but that hadn’t been much of an issue for most of the time he’d spent unharmonized. Right up until he’d spent an entire night in a wood full of horrible monsters and realized that, in fact, not having access to any of his magic was an issue after all.]

I quite liked my home; I’d like to see it again. So, I decided to lend my services to the Tribune in order to learn more about his sect. After that, it was quite simple.

[glowup]

[Anders shrugs, like, maybe he will! He absolutely will; the itch to do magic purely to do it is already becoming too strong to bear, and if Anders must honestly commit to one of these groups to feel wholly himself again, well. He'll do it. And then he will do various unsafe things with fireballs, to remember that he can.

But the information is good to know, too. He's not very keen on the whole... Tribune and his sect thing? If he never has to talk to that man, all the better for it, but the confirmation that many doors are shut to the unaffiliated is another thorn in his side.]

I'm used to getting the most conveniently awful treatment, [he says, normally,] But you do make a fair point.

[If he's to make use of himself around here, the first step is magic, and so committing is already a done deal. It's simply when, he supposes...]

You're the first person I've talked to who actually liked it back home. I don't know what to do with that.

[hey some of those zany zenith people are nuts huh]

[sterngaze]

[Hm, what a very normal thing for an apparently normal human man to say. Perhaps his odd choice of dress marks him as a particularly disfavoured ethnic or religious minority in his home country. Coming from a country possessing a rather turbulent history with its southern neighbour, where the worship of that country’s goddess was outlawed until shortly after he was born, Liem finds this idea completely plausible.

It’s actually the man’s other statement that surprises him more. His brows furrow slightly as he regards his companion.]

Really?

[That seems an odd thing to say, being as they are in the midst of a city where missing one’s place of origin is part of the general cultural identity. It is also one of the only things that lured him here, to this rowdy, party-loving city of eternal sunlight. That, and the familiar climate.]

It’s a common enough sentiment among the shard-bearers here. Not universal, no, but still — I’m surprised.

[But perhaps he’s not been in the city for very long.]

Did you? Like your home?

[glowup]

[Oh good, we're breezing past that totally normal thing to say. Anders shrugs again - he must not be talking to the right people. Then again, he is somewhat avoiding the actual locals, hesitant to get swept into anything that could be permanent or full of whatever religious zealotry looks like around here. What he's gotten out of fellow Shard-bearers he's sort into two piles, "indifference" and—]

Admittedly, I've been wandering around that awful garden party for that Yima woman. There's nothing quite like the things they're saying over there.

[Whew! Some of those guys, huh! Now, this is a great question, and perhaps the completely ordinary way he refers to being treated awfully explains away in advance why it takes him so long to come up with an answer. He hasn't had a proper home since he was twelve, and yes, there were bits and pieces of each place he lived that he grew to cherish— Karl and the other Circle apprentices, the good he could do in Kirkwall, each time he found himself folded into a messy group of morons he could call friends— but.

Did he like it, overall. Did he have, hm, a net positive time in Thedas.]

Not really, no. But I'd like it to be better. And there are people I still care about. I think that merits a high enough score to count one way or the other.

[sterngaze]

Ah.

[He's been talking to the Zenites. Suddenly his prior experience makes a great deal of sense. The shard-bearers over there tend to be indifferent to the idea of seeing their worlds again at best, and active apocalypse-seekers at worst.

Still, hopefully this man is better off for having asked around over there. It's smart to learn more about both sides, and god knows Liem spent long enough living in Highstorm before settling in Springstar. He isn't one to judge a person for fraternizing with "the enemy."

And in any case, the answer the man gives is a familiar enough refrain.]

That's a fine reason to have a connection to home.

[A small smile lights his face, quiet but earnest.]

To be mortal is to want things to be better. What separates the people here from those in Highstorm is just the belief that the place they came from still can be.