The Peridexis | Alt OCs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peridexion) wrote2020-11-03 07:27 pm
peridexion) wrote2020-11-03 07:27 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Nothingness.
Emptiness. Despair...
But, no. There was something. In fact, as soon as that perception was achieved there were many somethings; strobing, coalescing, shifting into imperfect conglomerates that, if stared at long enough, maybe, just maybe, might make sense-
Cold. Cold cold cold cold coldcoldCOLD-
The peridexis shuddered to, reaching as instinctively as wizardry ever could for Nita-
But no. That hadn't been her.
A survey revealed the sensation - shuddering, shivering, shaking, falling - to have come from somewhere else: that new source.
The bond. The mind link, from when many of Nita's compatriots had been forcibly joined on the ancient island of Jema'grathy.
But what Enna Alchiba or Minako Aino could have been thinking about-
With a jolt, the peridexis correcting its way of thinking, and without considering the implications further leaped into action.
There had been one more party present in the bond, after all.
---
/No you don't-/
Reality winked out, colours and shadows dissipating in kind to reveal... a familiar place.
In fact, too familiar. This was a kitchen, one it knew well - but to have a perspective like this on it felt- dissonant, wrong.
Everything felt wrong, in point of fact. And beyond that, there was the cold - anything beyond that seemed impossible to comprehend at the moment.
/Here./
The strange voice came again, and there was something soft, now. A blanket.
It stared blankly at the near shapeless form before it. Seriously?
/Think of it as a metaphor. You can take it or leave it, of course. But given you look to be in shock just now... I figured safer than sorry./
They shrugged.
For lack of anything better it could come up with, it applied the blanket to itself... somehow. In this non-place, it seemed most prudent not to be hung up about such things for too long.
/Now, come on. While we are here, sit a little?/
It came as a suggestion, not a command, and so instead of balking as it might have done - or ignoring, as it was much more used to - it played along. Actual seats, makeshift stools; such details did not seem to matter, either.
It realized it was still shivering. This would not do-
/-I won't ask what went wrong,/ the strange voice-presence began again, having seemingly aborted a previous thought. /Such would be to undervalue your abilities, and your skill. But what I will ask is, what made this time different from other times? What about the situation felt different?/
It tensed - and, when that did not help the shivering any, sighed and snuggled into the blanket further. So be it.
Are you familiar with the concept of the greater multiverse?
Without a head, the strange presence nodded. /Any given set of reality-guiding principles and principalities will coalesce into Its own sheaf of worlds, growing ever-more complex over and in time./
With a sense of wry acceptance, it nodded as well. That will do for a start. What most diagrams of multiverses will not show, however, is the 'gray area' of possibilities; rather than all worlds drawing from one well, each instance of a world has its own gray area surrounding it; a kind of atmosphere. These possibilities form their own eddies, currents, and all interconnected through-
/Through the void,/ the stranger finished, and they used such a tone in saying it that it couldn't help being amused.
Exactly.
Despite their amusement, it shuddered again, and quickly became annoyed instead.
/... May I offer hot chocolate in this trying time?/
It would have laughed if it could, if only out of surprise. Bold of you to assume I can drink. But, very well. Yes please, it finished, saying the words as fast as possible.
Drinks thus acquired, and the shivering lessening noticeably from there, it continued in its explanation:
All worlds breed possibility, and possibilities in turn form new seeds for worlds. But existence is not endless creation, as you well know. It lacks the... you would say inertia, for that. And some worlds require further stimulus to grow, or else they stagnate. Hence...
/Entropy,/ the stranger said darkly. It would blame the cold for having flinched, but that would have been illegitimate.
Yes. The end of line, quencher of what stagnates - but also what starts cycles anew, or transforms them.
/Death, the stranger said, less darkly and more sadly, and it nodded to that as well.
... Worlds were not destroyed so frequently, once upon a time, it said slowly. Within my lifetime, even. But now - they spread, further and faster than before. Attacking- destroying - something less than at random.
There was silence, for a time. For lack of anything better to do it nervously drank some of the chocolate - which was, admittedly, perfectly warm and bittersweet.
/... You speak of 'them' as a conscious force. I know of Entropy having an inventor, but - such a conception is, different, from how I've understood it./
Drat. There was no easy running away from this.
... I have come to know Entropy as a conscious force - and not as just one, but many. They attack in groups, it informed, somewhat trivially. I would not qualify them as a proverbial 'hive mind' - a collection of minds acting as one - but the conception of lives on anything smaller than a systemic level is- difficult, for them to grasp. And technology, stranger still.
/And you are afraid of them./
It came not as an accusation but simple fact; it nodded. Are you?
/I... could say that, yes. Yet, were it not for Entropy, or Its Creator, I know I would not exist./
It sighed, putting down the finally-empty cup. It is funny you should say that. For, in many ways, the same is true for me.
As I said, the worlds breed possibilities, which give rise to new worlds - entropy also thrives on possibility. It is not that they are against creation, or even that they do such a thing as 'hate' it, so much as they can sense when a world or piece of it is waning, or when a world is wanting for great change.
To this end, they have two main abilities, beyond sheer destructive power - to solidify and anchor possibilities, and to detect patterns within them. In this way, they can 'read' the major paths a world can take, simply by taking stock of a given world's gray area.
... Yes, that is where the visions come from. Are you here to accuse me of- no? All right.
I fear I am saying too much, but then I am not much used to 'talking' either.
... Nor you? Heh; indeed.
In bed, Nita shifted. Flinched, because suddenly there was cold-
And then a weight, some sleepy force, and with a sigh Nita tried to settle again.
Look, can you just move? You're freezing!
{And you're warm! Please? I can't help it that I run cold-}
Both beings paused.
And then the screaming began.
When Nita later tried to recall the other presence in her bed - well, for one, Bobo laughed at her, which was never a good sign in her opinion - but she also couldn't recall the person having a distinct shape.
Looking up and over from her bed to where one of her mentally-linked friends lounged, she asked, "You're sure you didn't feel anything last night, Minako?"
She tried not to look at the empty bed above her own.
"Nope. Not a thing. Maybe it was that silent buddy of yours, the one with the 'dark fox' form?" the blonde suggested, before yawning and getting ready to go about her day.
"Nah," Nita answered, "He'd have answered me straight out by now if it'd been him; usually he doesn't take shape like that." Not anymore, she amended, trying to keep the regret out of her thoughts.
"Ah, well. Maybe ask around if it happens again? And it might not be happening to just you, either; it could be completely independent of our link," Minako pointed out.
"That's true, I guess..."
There was no rushing to conclusions about this sort of thing - much as Nita still felt they were running out of time...
Emptiness. Despair...
But, no. There was something. In fact, as soon as that perception was achieved there were many somethings; strobing, coalescing, shifting into imperfect conglomerates that, if stared at long enough, maybe, just maybe, might make sense-
Cold. Cold cold cold cold coldcoldCOLD-
The peridexis shuddered to, reaching as instinctively as wizardry ever could for Nita-
But no. That hadn't been her.
A survey revealed the sensation - shuddering, shivering, shaking, falling - to have come from somewhere else: that new source.
The bond. The mind link, from when many of Nita's compatriots had been forcibly joined on the ancient island of Jema'grathy.
But what Enna Alchiba or Minako Aino could have been thinking about-
With a jolt, the peridexis correcting its way of thinking, and without considering the implications further leaped into action.
There had been one more party present in the bond, after all.
---
/No you don't-/
Reality winked out, colours and shadows dissipating in kind to reveal... a familiar place.
In fact, too familiar. This was a kitchen, one it knew well - but to have a perspective like this on it felt- dissonant, wrong.
Everything felt wrong, in point of fact. And beyond that, there was the cold - anything beyond that seemed impossible to comprehend at the moment.
/Here./
The strange voice came again, and there was something soft, now. A blanket.
It stared blankly at the near shapeless form before it. Seriously?
/Think of it as a metaphor. You can take it or leave it, of course. But given you look to be in shock just now... I figured safer than sorry./
They shrugged.
For lack of anything better it could come up with, it applied the blanket to itself... somehow. In this non-place, it seemed most prudent not to be hung up about such things for too long.
/Now, come on. While we are here, sit a little?/
It came as a suggestion, not a command, and so instead of balking as it might have done - or ignoring, as it was much more used to - it played along. Actual seats, makeshift stools; such details did not seem to matter, either.
It realized it was still shivering. This would not do-
/-I won't ask what went wrong,/ the strange voice-presence began again, having seemingly aborted a previous thought. /Such would be to undervalue your abilities, and your skill. But what I will ask is, what made this time different from other times? What about the situation felt different?/
It tensed - and, when that did not help the shivering any, sighed and snuggled into the blanket further. So be it.
Are you familiar with the concept of the greater multiverse?
Without a head, the strange presence nodded. /Any given set of reality-guiding principles and principalities will coalesce into Its own sheaf of worlds, growing ever-more complex over and in time./
With a sense of wry acceptance, it nodded as well. That will do for a start. What most diagrams of multiverses will not show, however, is the 'gray area' of possibilities; rather than all worlds drawing from one well, each instance of a world has its own gray area surrounding it; a kind of atmosphere. These possibilities form their own eddies, currents, and all interconnected through-
/Through the void,/ the stranger finished, and they used such a tone in saying it that it couldn't help being amused.
Exactly.
Despite their amusement, it shuddered again, and quickly became annoyed instead.
/... May I offer hot chocolate in this trying time?/
It would have laughed if it could, if only out of surprise. Bold of you to assume I can drink. But, very well. Yes please, it finished, saying the words as fast as possible.
Drinks thus acquired, and the shivering lessening noticeably from there, it continued in its explanation:
All worlds breed possibility, and possibilities in turn form new seeds for worlds. But existence is not endless creation, as you well know. It lacks the... you would say inertia, for that. And some worlds require further stimulus to grow, or else they stagnate. Hence...
/Entropy,/ the stranger said darkly. It would blame the cold for having flinched, but that would have been illegitimate.
Yes. The end of line, quencher of what stagnates - but also what starts cycles anew, or transforms them.
/Death, the stranger said, less darkly and more sadly, and it nodded to that as well.
... Worlds were not destroyed so frequently, once upon a time, it said slowly. Within my lifetime, even. But now - they spread, further and faster than before. Attacking- destroying - something less than at random.
There was silence, for a time. For lack of anything better to do it nervously drank some of the chocolate - which was, admittedly, perfectly warm and bittersweet.
/... You speak of 'them' as a conscious force. I know of Entropy having an inventor, but - such a conception is, different, from how I've understood it./
Drat. There was no easy running away from this.
... I have come to know Entropy as a conscious force - and not as just one, but many. They attack in groups, it informed, somewhat trivially. I would not qualify them as a proverbial 'hive mind' - a collection of minds acting as one - but the conception of lives on anything smaller than a systemic level is- difficult, for them to grasp. And technology, stranger still.
/And you are afraid of them./
It came not as an accusation but simple fact; it nodded. Are you?
/I... could say that, yes. Yet, were it not for Entropy, or Its Creator, I know I would not exist./
It sighed, putting down the finally-empty cup. It is funny you should say that. For, in many ways, the same is true for me.
As I said, the worlds breed possibilities, which give rise to new worlds - entropy also thrives on possibility. It is not that they are against creation, or even that they do such a thing as 'hate' it, so much as they can sense when a world or piece of it is waning, or when a world is wanting for great change.
To this end, they have two main abilities, beyond sheer destructive power - to solidify and anchor possibilities, and to detect patterns within them. In this way, they can 'read' the major paths a world can take, simply by taking stock of a given world's gray area.
... Yes, that is where the visions come from. Are you here to accuse me of- no? All right.
I fear I am saying too much, but then I am not much used to 'talking' either.
... Nor you? Heh; indeed.
In bed, Nita shifted. Flinched, because suddenly there was cold-
And then a weight, some sleepy force, and with a sigh Nita tried to settle again.
Look, can you just move? You're freezing!
{And you're warm! Please? I can't help it that I run cold-}
Both beings paused.
And then the screaming began.
When Nita later tried to recall the other presence in her bed - well, for one, Bobo laughed at her, which was never a good sign in her opinion - but she also couldn't recall the person having a distinct shape.
Looking up and over from her bed to where one of her mentally-linked friends lounged, she asked, "You're sure you didn't feel anything last night, Minako?"
She tried not to look at the empty bed above her own.
"Nope. Not a thing. Maybe it was that silent buddy of yours, the one with the 'dark fox' form?" the blonde suggested, before yawning and getting ready to go about her day.
"Nah," Nita answered, "He'd have answered me straight out by now if it'd been him; usually he doesn't take shape like that." Not anymore, she amended, trying to keep the regret out of her thoughts.
"Ah, well. Maybe ask around if it happens again? And it might not be happening to just you, either; it could be completely independent of our link," Minako pointed out.
"That's true, I guess..."
There was no rushing to conclusions about this sort of thing - much as Nita still felt they were running out of time...
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Nita looked up from her book, glancing about the Storage Car as if the answers were on the second floor's shelves-
But the source of the noise wasn't there. Making a faint ticking noise in the back of her throat, she looked back down and leaned back against-
Aha.
The train was purring.
...
Nita's thoughts stopped there.
The train was purring. What the heck?! That couldn't be the engine...!
Quickly quieting her own thoughts, she tried to focus on reading again.
Some minutes later, almost beyond the threshold of her perception, the noise began again, and it was most certainly not the engine.
Nita decided to leave well enough alone for now.
In a Faraway Time, in a Faraway Place...
That they also had suits went almost without saying, but given what they'd chased into a crash-landing here, those were deemed less important in terms of protection.
"What are we going to do with it? Use it for scrap?" Sharles suggested.
"Not a chance," Raine, his senior, called back. She brushed a hand absently at where her hair would have fallen without the helmet in the way. "The ministries would have our hands and heads if we took that initiative. They'll want to run tests on it first - or better yet, interrogate whoever's inside it."
"If anyone's inside it," Moni quietly observed.
"Hard to imagine why anyone would leave all those windows dark like that - or was that because of the crash?"
They all came to a stop still some meters away from their quarry. At first glance, it looked like a steam train - at second glance, it looked more like a typical voidtrain, but at once both more ancient and more advanced, a sleeker build modified by arcane beings...
But for now, it was most clearly a wrecked train. Truly, it should be harmless, and yet none of them wanted to approach.
"Well, nothing else for it. I vote we go for the windows!"
The last of their number sighed loudly, big ears bending for extra emphasis. "It's a train, Sharles. Surely there's a door...!"
With that, the four salvage workers made their way across the remaining distance to what remained of the infamous Captain V's train.
Moni bit back a groan, crossing one tentacle-hand in front of the other. "That's done it. The void must have sealed the engine's outer walls into one unit. Our tools can't break into it."
"That doesn't make sense," Raine said, frowning.
"The void's never produced those kinds of effects on our metals before."
"Well, maybe the world V found this train on used unknown metals," Sharles pointed out, rapping pointedly on the sealed wall at the back of the engine.
"It'd line up with everything else strange this train's been up to..."
All of a sudden, all three of them became aware of their fourth member's absence - and then, around the front of the train, something clicked on.
As one, they ran around the engine in a rush, Sharles at the lead.
"Khari, what did you find? Are you all right?!"
Khari nodded absently, one hand on the engine pilot, ears barely twitching.
The train's headlights flashed once.
With no preamble, she voiced: "The train is alive. There are no people inside. It is scared of us, and of itself."
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Then: Warmth. A spectrum of it. Colors without words. Life's breath, and purpose alongside it.
Heating up: not the same kind of warmth, but a noticeable change of sense of what's around.
Scanning, parsing - all around are walls, some more impenetrable than others. These are made of the same material you are, but lacking in some important quality.
The thought is not yours, but it is there nonetheless; information, which you absorb without question.
Your sense narrow in on the source of the warmth, the colors; Something inside of you, yet apart from you. This is your creator. She made you all on her own.
You start to pick out specific colors; identifications for them flicker into being. Happiness. Relief. Pride.
You reflect them back in turn, some instinctive process you do not yet know how to name, and the warmth flares brighter.
Happiness.
Relief.
Pride.
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True, having company in the form of one of the few sentients that happily acknowledged you directly had proved something of a counter to ennui, but there was more than conversation to life. At least when you had purpose.
That, as it turned out, was something it found it had in common with its newest acquaintance.
Which, it seemed so far, was also one of the few beings out there that seemed even more dedicated to secrecy and keeping out-of-the-way socially than the peridexis itself.
[Suspicion]
... Not that it was guaranteed to stay that way forever; with a more direct, and mysterious, bond in place, there would be no truly losing track of each other. Or letting other, more negative emotions outweigh curiosity, in the end.
This, however negative it felt on the receiving end, still counted as progress. And, in the absence of their mutual agent to move a conversation along, the peridexis found itself taking matters into its own (nonexistent) hands.
[Query?]
There was a hiss, or something akin to one; surprise, and distaste, bled through the bond.
After a moment to settle, the peridexis resent its emotion. Why are you suspicious? Of me?
The next emotion was blindingly complex in intensity, a stark contrast to before. Again, the peridexis let itself take the time to piece the pattern apart; just because it did not inherently understand this being, that did not mean such was impossible, or not worth the effort in the first place.
How can I exist? Well-
The peridexis found itself cut off, the emotional onslaught this time much more visual. And more targeted at the aforementioned joint agent, for that matter.
How- can Nita and I- coexist, you mean?
[Affirmation]
Well, that was a surprise. And how do you mean that?
True, Nita's own ill-thought-out attack on the Voidtrecker Express had been quite an unpleasant upset - but then, that matter had been mended, as well as those underlying it as far as all parties involved had thought them over.
Or had they? While Nita and the peridexis had laid their cards on the table, so to speak, the peridexis could admit full well it did not know how the third part of the equation had come to its conclusion.
But if this was a different matter entirely-?
It found itself interrupted by another onslaught; this one seemed more like equations. Commutative equations, in fact. Then pointing back at the peridexis' own line of thought, to that attack and Nita's action, where the peridexis had not been able to stop her.
Now the peridexis found itself baffled, and broadcasted back as much.
Are you saying our roles are... interchangeable? No, that is not the case-
Once again it found itself cut off, to the negative. The emphatically negative, even.
The peridexis could only send shock. What makes you believe I am capable of such a thing?
Not just the why, but the how.
This time there came visuals again, and not just that but the powerful sensation of - of being overridden.
Suddenly it understood. Letting the vision wash away, the peridexis waited only half as long as last time before sending: You believe I could do the same to you.
As protective as the peridexis was of one Nita Callahan - as angry as it was at the situation regarding the Voidtrecker Express and the void as a whole - it couldn't help but send a sense of disgust at the whole concept of willing violation as it responded.
... What makes the idea of an attack from me so different from an attack from Nita, or any other wizard?
Again the response was in the negative; again there was an equation, this time far less complex:
[Juanita Louise Callahan = Voidtrecker; Dairine Regan Callahan = Voidtrecker; Saash = Voidtrecker; -]
This time, perhaps in haste, the peridexis cut the Voidtrecker Express off in turn, starting to truly see the wider picture. And I am no such thing.
[Agreement]
I am an unknown - and therefore, dangerous.
[Agreement]
And such behavior from Voidtreckers... isn't dangerous? This time the peridexis' tone was dubious, as it thought back to the Voidtrecker Express' own, immediate reaction to the attack.
And its acceptance of the apology, for that matter.
There came reluctance through the link, then solidity.
[Input from programming = not to be questioned. Input from Voidtreckers = must factor in nature of arrival, of interpersonal disputes. All Voidtreckers impact, narrow direction of programming focus.
All actions have consequences.]
The peridexis was, in a word, speechless.
Surely there must be another way? Rather than a cycle of such dysfunction...
But then there came only silence again, and the peridexis suspected this night's conversation was over.
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Okay. I know we didn't start off on the right foot, and I am sorry.
[Does that sound passive-aggressive? Geeze, it probably does. And if it's capable of getting sick of anything, it's probably sick of passive-aggressive passengers by now.
No matter.]
But - there's a lot about you I really would like to get to know. The sorts of worlds you've seen, where you get those pictures for the stereoscopes, what your homeworlds even look like-
[There's a bit of bite in those last few words, in her voice and her eyes, and she cuts herself off for a moment to breathe, to reset her tone.]
Sorry. But... you're not the only one here who's the last survivor of their world.
[Nita's pretty sure she doesn't count, herself, but she could probably use up all her fingers and toes counting off the rest of the people on the train who do.]
We- we don't know what the 'average' person from Thistea or Enrara looks like, how they met up with the Ministry, how they screen people for voidtrecking, if they have shoes...
[There's a pause, presumably one in which Bobo is speaking. Nita's face freezes - only for the freeze to break and Nita's head to fall forward, her shoulders shaking with increasing laughter.]
Schools. Schools. I meant schools!
[There's more laughter, and eventually she recovers, looking much more relaxed than she had when starting the video.]
Anyway, while it's good that we can hear more of what your last crew said, we want to hear what you know and thought about them too! You've been at the work longer than any one of them, I'll bet-
[A beat, and her voice is more somber as she continues:]
And if there's something about the protocol that we need to know, that the Ministry hasn't, can't, or won't cover... I'd rather know sooner than later, y'know?
[That probably sounded needy, didn't it? Nita makes another wry face, before shaking the mood off with a shrug.]
I'm glad to help where I can, but flinging around in the dark can only do so much. I know we've both been there, at least.
You know how to reach me.
[And, with a hopeful smile, Nita ends the feed, and thus her query.]