[That’s fine, that’s good enough. He’ll move them through the crowd then, though I’m not sure how the VR works with that. Do you just walk or do you have to change it. Mystery. Doesn’t really matter, he’s been messing with this thing all day so he’s gotten pretty good at it - stopping briefly at a stand covered in extravagant floral creations - flower crowns and bouquets and weaved strands of silk petals. Picking them up admiringly.]
I made this up. I wasn’t able to find it that night, funnily. Drunk off my own tail. But I wanted to bring some back for Yasha! It was terrible, we left her to babysitting. Not such a fan of crowds though, so perhaps it was for the best.
[Because she asks when he’s standing there at the podium, thinking about it, the simulation blips for just a moment -
The back of a cart along a quiet forest road, light chatter. A few horses at the front. Bird song and sunshine. Against the side of the cart a woman sits, greatsword next to her, staring a bit awkwardly at a orange tiger-striped cat that’s planted itself in her lap, purring loudly and pressing its paws against her leg to knead it. In a voice that’s much softer than her appearance would suggest, lightly accented:
‘Ah, Caleb? It’s doing something?’
And then it flicks back to the scene before, Harrow holding the bouquet still.]
[She's startled by the sudden change on scenery, shielding her eyes with a hand at the sunlight automatically, though it's not so bright as to hurt her eyes. When the scene switches back, she blinks again at the rapid change.]
. . . Yasha? It does that, draws on thoughts you weren't meaning to have.
If I don't know them, what opinion am I to have? If I tell you Ortus Ninegad composes dreadful poetry, will you appreciate knowing that even though the name can mean nothing to you?
. . . He was composing an epic poem celebrating our House's greatest warrior, Matthias Nonius. But his scansion was appalling. You cannot say Nonius has either two or three syllables depending on the verse.
[She thinks for a moment, and then recites, from memory - ]
Then did the dire bone frenzy fall upon Nonius, the mightiest arm of the Ninth and it's bulwark; Spasmed his veins with death lust; his great heart roared like a black iron furnace, hungry for corpses. Baleful the black blade struck at the shimmering stuff of the spectral beast, biting deep in it's false flesh. Shrieking, it flailed with its claws at the pauldrons and casque of the Ninth, yet his heart never faltered or failed him.
Don't be puerile, it isn't that funny. If you aren't using the simulation, then it's my turn.
[Slamming her hand on the simulation! She doubts he'll like anything on the Ninth, so she'll show him Canaan House instead. It's a beautiful fortress, almost a castle, on a planet with blue skies and oceans. Canaan House sits on a rock above the oceans, dead vines growing around it - there's nothing really alive here.
But what is here are skeletons - a lot of them, dressed in robes and vaguely Roman attire, all ambulatory and walking around.]
[sorry it is exactly that funny also what the FUCK does puerile mean anyway there's no time to react to any of this because
skeletons? Everywhere?
Honestly he just freezes, hands going to his waist like he's reaching for something, before he remembers that it's just an illusion again. It's certainly beautiful. Even the ocean, like that - huge and blue and expansive - nothing at all like he's ever seen before. Trying (trying being key) to relax, walking along to follow one of the skeletons and waving a hand in front of its face to see if it reacts. ]
They're constructs, but animated by autonomous spirits. The first time I saw them, I'd never seen anything so incredible. I've been animating skeletons since I was a child, but getting their joints to move as seamlessly as a creature with muscles and flesh is incredibly challenging.
[It's odd. There's a part of him that feels that itchiness again, like. He should know about this than he does, maybe. But he personally has nothing against it, beyond just not understanding much of what it is. And it is beautiful? In its own way.]
So they're alive? In some way? This is what you were talking about, tying a spirit to a body?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Will you at least go watch the dancing?
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[She'll just stand on the sidelines like the goth kid at a middle school dance.]
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I made this up. I wasn’t able to find it that night, funnily. Drunk off my own tail. But I wanted to bring some back for Yasha! It was terrible, we left her to babysitting. Not such a fan of crowds though, so perhaps it was for the best.
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Yasha?
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The back of a cart along a quiet forest road, light chatter. A few horses at the front. Bird song and sunshine. Against the side of the cart a woman sits, greatsword next to her, staring a bit awkwardly at a orange tiger-striped cat that’s planted itself in her lap, purring loudly and pressing its paws against her leg to knead it. In a voice that’s much softer than her appearance would suggest, lightly accented:
‘Ah, Caleb? It’s doing something?’
And then it flicks back to the scene before, Harrow holding the bouquet still.]
Shit, sorry.
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. . . Yasha? It does that, draws on thoughts you weren't meaning to have.
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[Very deliberately pulling his hand off the podium for the moment.]
That was Yasha. [And then, because he can’t help himself.] Did you know Beau has a big crush on her? Hilarious.
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[She's only talked to Beau a few times and literally just saw Yasha?]
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Really? I like gossip about all kinds of people, but whatever your preference.
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[That's an opinion to have.]
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[She thinks for a moment, and then recites, from memory - ]
Then did the dire bone frenzy fall upon Nonius, the mightiest arm of the Ninth and it's bulwark;
Spasmed his veins with death lust; his great heart roared like a black iron furnace, hungry for corpses.
Baleful the black blade struck at the shimmering stuff of the spectral beast, biting deep in it's false flesh.
Shrieking, it flailed with its claws at the pauldrons and casque of the Ninth, yet his heart never faltered or failed him.
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Secondly, what the fuck?]
. . . Bone frenzy?
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I do get the impression this person is fucking corpses. I'm only pointing it out as artistic commentary to a clearly great work.
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No, no. No desecration of corpses, merely the written word.
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[ . . . ]
What were we doing? You distracted me.
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[But he's not going anywhere.]
. . . Bone frenzy?
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[Slamming her hand on the simulation! She doubts he'll like anything on the Ninth, so she'll show him Canaan House instead. It's a beautiful fortress, almost a castle, on a planet with blue skies and oceans. Canaan House sits on a rock above the oceans, dead vines growing around it - there's nothing really alive here.
But what is here are skeletons - a lot of them, dressed in robes and vaguely Roman attire, all ambulatory and walking around.]
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skeletons? Everywhere?
Honestly he just freezes, hands going to his waist like he's reaching for something, before he remembers that it's just an illusion again. It's certainly beautiful. Even the ocean, like that - huge and blue and expansive - nothing at all like he's ever seen before. Trying (trying being key) to relax, walking along to follow one of the skeletons and waving a hand in front of its face to see if it reacts. ]
. . . What is this place?
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[The skeleton does react! Not like a sentient being exactly, but it avoids his hand and walks out of the way.]
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[Huh! Well. Gently reaching out to touch one on the shoulder.]
Undead? Or something else?
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So they're alive? In some way? This is what you were talking about, tying a spirit to a body?
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