the miles are way too long

[saviorexe]

WHO: Markus, Ardyn, V & various
WHERE: All around.
WHEN: The first half of IC November.
WHAT: This is basically a catch-all log for my characters.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: None, will add if any crop up.

[Closed starters below! If you want a thread, just hit me up at aurajen and we can figure something out!]

Comments

[daemonized]

[Ardyn’s own manner of dress has been forcibly toned down thanks to his roommate, X’rhun, who refuses to allow him to make a fool of himself in such an influential position. So, that means no bright floral prints to pop from his dark colors. Only black and grey tones — as usual — but the tie, at least, has the shimmering crawl of a floral pattern set against the maroon.

He reaches out to take the coffee, cupping it in his hands. His wonderfully spin-y chair allows for him to track Sniper’s movements across his barren office with a mere kick of the foot, something he’s keen on taking advantage of, and they both end up facing the light of the window.]

Come now, I haven’t been in here for that long at all. Give me time, and I’ll let my personality show through through the decor.

[There is a tall potted plant in the corner of the room, half-caught in the sunlight. The points of its leaves look wilting, either out of overwatering or neglect.]

I’m finding it much like the work from before. [His time as Chancellor, he means.] And endless amount of meetings, policies that need their verbiage constantly tweaked. Utterly thrilling, don’t be jealous.

[Considering he was complaining about boredom literally seconds ago, this is safely taken as sarcasm.]

[deicider]

You'll definitely want to project something more reliable than 'dying plant'. [People in this world took plants seriously, but it's light commentary as opposed to earnest advice. Giving unsolicited advice to someone of Ardyn's age and experience would be really presumptuous.

Sniper keeps up their self-guided tour. In the confined space, it looks a bit like pacing, even with all Sniper's movements marked with effortless confidence.]

Poor you. Lucky I stopped by to ask you a favor.

[daemonized]

[The dying plant is fitting, isn't it? Representative of just how much of a caring, nurturing individual he is. Look how much he considers its well-being, the poor dying thing.

Ah, Ardyn just shrugs.] That? It came with the office. It was like that when I got here.

[If he's lying, he certainly won't fess up to it. Besides, Sniper's mention of a favor is far more interesting. He's going to keep following his motions with the movement of his chair, thank you.]

And, well... you did bring me coffee. I might consider it, depending on what the favor is.

[deicider]

[Office explored, Sniper abandons the plant to its fate and takes themself back to Ardyn's desk. They still don't sit on the chair, instead perching on the edge of the desk on Ardyn's side.]

This should be an easy favor for the Financial Commissioner and former CFO of Pulsar. I need a meeting with Pulsar's engineering department so they can buy some schematics from me.

[daemonized]

[Eyebrows raise at them, and Ardyn lifts up a hand to run through his hair. It's getting long again, its tips beginning to flare out in their normal fashion.]

Easy indeed. But you need to fulfill my curiosity first. What schematics?

[deicider]

Engine components. These will be some improvements on what they have now so don't worry, you're not going to need to butter them up any. [Sniper's smile is sharpened by an edge of pride: The mukta engine had been in Sniper's bash' for centuries, refined to near-Platonic perfection so even after Fitz pared down them down, the parts were still better than Pulsar's best. Sniper was no engineer, but they had their own part to play in nurturing the Saneer-Weeksbooth's technological legacy.]

[daemonized]

[On the surface, it's simple enough. Benign enough, just engine components that would be more efficient or effective than what was currently being utilized, and it would admittedly be an easy sell to set up a meeting with the right people. Ardyn has confidence he could provide Sniper with what they need without much effort.

But it's as he said. He needs to sate his curiosity first.]

I'm not worried one bit. They say I'm a charismatic fellow, so it shouldn't be hard at all.

[Who is "they"? Who the heck knows.]

But why the interest? Looking to turn a profit? [A head tilt, considering.] Or... hoping to turn an transient idea into something real?

[deicider]

Who says that, your old country?

[The one that betrayed him. The tilt of Sniper's smile tells it for a joke.]

Yes, I want a profit. I'm going to use it as seed money to start my own company to sell tech from my own world. These components are pared down versions of my bash's tech; I'm not giving the real thing to Pulsar.

[Obviously. 'bash' goes untranslated; translating it as 'home' in this context doesn't work as well as when they explained it to Alex, and they refuse to compromise the concept by equating it to 'family'. Ardyn can ask or guess.]

[daemonized]

[Nope, that word definitely throws a wrench in the translation process. As usual, when met with a word unknown, the implant flings potential meanings in his virtual vision? Verb, to strike hard or violently. Verb, to criticize severely. Noun, a party or social event.

No, no. Ardyn waves it away both mentally and physically, like swatting at a fly.]

How enterprising of you. But do clarify, what's a 'bash'?

[deicider]

We're going to need the money.

[That was just practical. Sniper preferred investing in people and relationships, but when you needed to do a lot of shady stuff fast—And they fully believed it would come to that eventually—money was quicker.]

It's what people in my world do instead of blood-related families. Several adults living together, supporting each other, and raising any kids they have together. It's form the word i-basho.

[The social unit devised by Regan Makoto Cullen some four-hundred years ago that promoted the greatest flourishing for active minds, stimulated the most progress in a world that strove always to be better and better, and leave the ash of its history behind. Ardyn's translator will provide definitions for i-basho: a word that connotates home, but stronger. The place where one belongs, where one flourishes. ]

[daemonized]

[The context is sewn together, and Ardyn manages to get an idea of what they mean. Home, but with a deeper sense of belonging. Something that had been stripped away from him thousands of years ago.

Cool, cool.

Moving on, then, smiling all the while.]

I see. And your world is so advanced that this one can take advantage of whatever schematics you toss their way?

[deicider]

[Yes, it was more advanced. Sniper's world was better. It was always on the tip of their tongue; talking about their home—the home they'd never see again, the home that would surely be destroyed in the coming war—just sharpens the longing. A better world; a brighter world. The idea of being trapped in this dark mirror, unable to glimpse what their world will look like on the other side of the cataclysm they helped cause, drives them crazy.

Like Ardyn, Sniper can smile through anything. They've had less time to practice, but had honed themself on a wider audience. Global media was a demanding game to play.]

Not just mine. There are other people here from space-faring civilizations. And it's not all about profit; Transport makes a big difference on society. It gives people more options.

[That was enough about their own business.]

What about your own world? Is there anything you miss?

[daemonized]

[The directional shift the conversation takes, aimed at Ardyn now, is as clear as day. They don’t seem keen on sharing too many details, he notes, not without a little bit of give-and-take.

He makes a “hmm” sound, scooting his chair forward so that he can lean against the cool surface of the too-large desk.]

Not much.

[Not a lie. There’s not much of an attachment to Eos, barring the Prophecy he has to adhere to, stuck in his side like lances trying to bleed him dry. But he thinks of his world, now coated in night as he left it, trying to conjure up any sort of substantial reply.

He told Prompto, once, that he missed the night sky, the placement of the stars so different than what hangs above New Amsterdam. But you couldn’t see the stars through the Starscourge, anyway, and Ardyn only misses them the way someone misses something often overlooked — only sparingly.

So he settles on something else. Maybe this one is truer.]

Oh, wait, I know. I miss chocobos. Large birds, often yellow, tall enough to ride. Clever, too. They don't exist here.

[deicider]

[Sniper's not very interesting to talk about compared to Ardyn: betrayed and bitter in exile from a world he hated, it all has the ring of an epic, history apotheosized. The fact that Ardyn is so different from them, so opposite in temperament—Another dark mirror—just makes the mystery that much more enticing.

Sniper checks if Ardyn is wearing gloves as they laugh.]

That is really sad. What about in El Nysa? Was there anything interesting?

[daemonized]

[No gloves for him! Bare hands, which would be easy to note given how often he speaks with them. Big, sweeping gestures to articulate a point or two, here and there.

Like so, when he mentions a dragon-]

El Nysa was very interesting. Can this place say that there was an undead dragon threatening destroy the land? No? I think not.

[deicider]

I don't think we've even began to scratch the surface of this world. [Sniper fixes Ardyn with a smile.] We haven't even seen this world's god.

[It was just a glancing theory last time the two of them spoke. Now they were sure. It made too much sense —And it simplified things, too.

All Sniper had to do was talk to the god.]

[daemonized]

[He raises a brow, tilting his head just enough for strands of hair to messily fall across his forehead.]

You think there's a presiding god here, too, watching all the machinations of the world take place?

[deicider]

I don't think it's a god like that, no.

[What had Mycroft called such a god? A clockmaker. Clearly that wasn't it, if Ardyn was right, and divine power had been involved in the Displaced re-arranging the world.]

There's something, even if 'god' is just a convenient name.

[daemonized]

And isn't that all gods are? Just a construct of many 'somethings' with too much power.

[Ardyn's view of them are less than flattering. But this is true in his world; the astrals are not as all-knowing as they would like to appear. Neither are they omni-present.]

An entity, then.

[deicider]

Yes.

[An answer to both questions. Entities, if the mysterious texts they had gotten from the Insomniac Ball's Proprietor could be trusted. Sniper's own thoughts on gods are murky. Whether the god of their own world was punishing them by sending them to this place was still an open question, albeit unlikely.

But if a god made this happen, a god could reverse it. Fix it. Send them home.]

Was there a way to talk to the gods of your world? How did people do it?

[daemonized]

Only those of certain bloodlines can commune with the gods. On Eos, we had something called the Oracle, who did just that, and utilized her power to keep the world... [Vague hand gesture goes here.] ...clean, as it were.

The other family line is the royal one. Sometimes a pact can be forged with one of the Hexatheon, and they'll swoop down and aid His or Her Royal Majesty in times of need. How nice of them.

[Which does make for an interesting thought experiment.] So, you need to be 'special', or you need to form some kind of arrangement, or both. Think that might apply to this world? What a concept!

[deicider]

We're certainly special.

[Clean is a word that sticks out to Sniper, drawing their focus back to Ardyn's face. They've had to opposite hurled at them enough by their own sibling: unclean. Was there something about this world, too? Something unclean.]

Clean from what?

[daemonized]

Disease, corruption, and an eternal night. It was both her will and the gods' -- to be rid of a darkness, creeping up on their precious world.

[Talk too long about this and Ardyn will start to feel the ember of bitterness uncoiling in his gut. He focuses outward, instead of inward.]

This one, however? It's already a mess, isn't it?

[deicider]

[Sniper looks amused at the explanation.]

The good versus the bad, huh. The situation here isn't as clean-cut. It's a mess, but that's because humans are messy; I don't think there's a convenient, scary evil for us to overcome.

[daemonized]

Then what do you think there is for us to overcome?

[Never mind the idea that Ardyn should be expected to overcome anything is frustrating. He has better things to do, thank you very much, than being flung from world to world.]