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@spectral-science
My name is Lanuri Malepir(pronounced La-nur-ie Mal-ep-ier), I should be referred to with They/He. I wish I didn't have to come back..
...
//okay hi this is the mod, this blog will likely contain mentions of death, it is a roleplay blog for the oshaverse. i, the mod of both this blog, @spectral-gardens, and @osha-certified-forklifter, use she/her.
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[@oshafileclerk wanders near Lanuri's lab, holding a clipboard and a thin file.] Any... magician science ghosts around? Yoo-hoo? Mr. Malepir? Dear God, I hope I'm in the right place.
A nearby wall cracks, as it dissolves into fading blue strings, phasing through the rest of the wall. Behind it, a narrow doorway is recessed into the wall.
A head and arm, the arm clothed with a blue coat, are phasing through the door. Lanuri responds, "Dr. Malepir. I didn't suffer through college to be referred to as mister. Please, step inside. I'd rather not deal with the shadow creepers hanging about lately."
[David jumps.] Jeez!
[He doesn't like the name "shadow creepers", so he's quick to come in. He looks around uneasily.]
Um. Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Malepir. My name's David Smith. I'm officially a file clerk and unofficially a secretary and bookkeeper for OSHA.
The entrance room seems to be a repurposed chemistry lab, now the worktables all have various scrap pieces and computer components covering their surface.
Lanuri's floating behind one of the tables near the entrance, clearing the metal off of it. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Lanuri Malepir, a magician and scientist, as you already know. Is there a specific reason you've sought me today?"
[David smiles pleasantly.]
Very nice... laboratory? that you have, Dr. Malepir. It's a pleasure as well.
[He lifts up the file. Scrawled on it in messy handwriting is "LANURI MALEPIR".]
As mentioned, I'm sort of a bookkeeper around here. My part of OSHA has a bunch of information on... well, everything, but a long time ago a lot of our files were destroyed. I'm just looking to compile new documents, so I came here to... maybe have an interview? If you aren't busy, that is.
Lanuri considers as he finishes clearing the table. "Hmm... well you've been much nicer to the integrity of my walls than my last uninvited visitor, so I might as well give you the interview. Sorry if I can't answer a lot, I've signed a lot of NDAs in my day and those are, quite annoyingly, enchanted when dealt to mages."
No problem. If you have any paperwork that might be relevant - uh, proof of ID, et cetera - that'd be nice, you just have to send it up to archives.
Where should we do this, then?
Lanuri pauses for a few seconds, thinking about something. "Shit. I think I left my wallet in the desert. I don't think I have- wait do business cards count as proof of ID?" He stretches out a hand, summoning more blue strings to move two stools over to the cleared table. "And this table will do fine for the interview."
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
The dial flicks to magenta, and a figure stumbles out. They straighten up immediately, brushing off their soft purple overalls nervously. Their hair is short and tied into a messy bun, grey hairs scattered through the black. There's a large burn scar on their face that covers one of their eyes, which has been replaced with a pink prosthetic. Their other eye is blue and wide, nervous. Their dark skin is pale and littered with scars. One arm is missing, the sleeve of their pastel pink shirt tied up to keep it from getting caught on anything.
The figure backs up the moment they see Lanuri, shivering slightly. Their voice is soft but hoarse, giving the impression their throat has been damaged and never healed. "Sorry, sorry, I'll get out of your way, sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"
Lanuri raises a brow at this display. His cold gaze analyzes the new person, staring almost judgementally at them. He speaks, in an uncharacteristically almost gentle way. It doesn't sound quite genuinely gentle as he requests, "No. Stay here. I would like to ask you some questions." They produce a blank clipboard from their coat, and a pen from his pocket. They wait for a response.
They nod, shakily. "U-um, okay. Okay. I can... I can do that. I think. I don't know much though, not... um. Not useful stuff anyway."
They wrap their arm around themself, clearly trying to calm themself down.
"I was not asking for useful information." Lanuri's sharp eyes seem to keep a glare, as he stares at them. They move the pen to their right hand, and reach his left out towards the unfamiliar face. Cracks are visible, lacing the surface of his hand like shattered stone. "I am Lanuri. I'd like to inquire what yours is."
"U-um. I'm Nadia. She her." Nadia seems visibly anxious, never letting her eye leave Lanuri. She seems worried that if she does, she might get attacked or something.
"He they, for myself." He watches her for a moment afterwards, almost expectantly. It doesn't last long, as they pull their hand back, and scribble a quick note down into the page. He doesn't seem concerned with keeping Nadia in their gaze. They mutter a comment, "Odd how few people I meet that know what a handshake is," before continuing at his speaking volume, "Do you know how you got here? Or where you currently are?"
"I um. I know what a handshake is. I just... I don't like being touched." She winces, visibly. "U-um... I don't... I don't know where I am or how I got here. I was supposed to be at home..."
"Oh, I see. Apologies for the assumption." He continues writing on the clipboard, and plainly replies, "And I have a feeling you're a little farther from home than you were meant to stray. Considering most people aren't meant to leave their time. Moving on, I'd like to ask what has caused your physical state, if you'd indulge my curiousity. At least whether you know what's happened to your throat, since that's likely the only part I could help with. Albeit temporarily, the throat is strained very easily." The gentleness in his voice faded. They sound as clinical as ever.
"Um." She holds onto the strap of her overalls, nervously. "I... got hurt. Really badly. I don't really... wanna get into it." From her tense posture, and the fact she certainly looks like she's been through a lot, the experience was pretty obviously traumatic. "And, um. There's not much you can do about my throat. It uh. It almost got ripped out a while back. Pretty permanent damage."
"It's fine, we are all entitled to our secrets. And. You are correct in that I cannot do something about your throat. I did not study healing magic beyond what I needed for my doctorate."
"I um... no offence but I don't really want a complete stranger messing with my throat anyway?" She flinches as soon as the words are out of her mouth. "Not that I, um, think you're untrustworthy or anything! I just. I don't know you?"
"I. Forgot about that." Lanuri completely stops moving for a moment. He then puts the clipboard and pen back into their coat and turns around. "Okay goodbye you can go back to your timeline see you never again." He sounds embarrassed. And they're leaving. Through the wall.
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
The dial flicks to magenta, and a figure stumbles out. They straighten up immediately, brushing off their soft purple overalls nervously. Their hair is short and tied into a messy bun, grey hairs scattered through the black. There's a large burn scar on their face that covers one of their eyes, which has been replaced with a pink prosthetic. Their other eye is blue and wide, nervous. Their dark skin is pale and littered with scars. One arm is missing, the sleeve of their pastel pink shirt tied up to keep it from getting caught on anything.
The figure backs up the moment they see Lanuri, shivering slightly. Their voice is soft but hoarse, giving the impression their throat has been damaged and never healed. "Sorry, sorry, I'll get out of your way, sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"
Lanuri raises a brow at this display. His cold gaze analyzes the new person, staring almost judgementally at them. He speaks, in an uncharacteristically almost gentle way. It doesn't sound quite genuinely gentle as he requests, "No. Stay here. I would like to ask you some questions." They produce a blank clipboard from their coat, and a pen from his pocket. They wait for a response.
They nod, shakily. "U-um, okay. Okay. I can... I can do that. I think. I don't know much though, not... um. Not useful stuff anyway."
They wrap their arm around themself, clearly trying to calm themself down.
"I was not asking for useful information." Lanuri's sharp eyes seem to keep a glare, as he stares at them. They move the pen to their right hand, and reach his left out towards the unfamiliar face. Cracks are visible, lacing the surface of his hand like shattered stone. "I am Lanuri. I'd like to inquire what yours is."
"U-um. I'm Nadia. She her." Nadia seems visibly anxious, never letting her eye leave Lanuri. She seems worried that if she does, she might get attacked or something.
"He they, for myself." He watches her for a moment afterwards, almost expectantly. It doesn't last long, as they pull their hand back, and scribble a quick note down into the page. He doesn't seem concerned with keeping Nadia in their gaze. They mutter a comment, "Odd how few people I meet that know what a handshake is," before continuing at his speaking volume, "Do you know how you got here? Or where you currently are?"
"I um. I know what a handshake is. I just... I don't like being touched." She winces, visibly. "U-um... I don't... I don't know where I am or how I got here. I was supposed to be at home..."
"Oh, I see. Apologies for the assumption." He continues writing on the clipboard, and plainly replies, "And I have a feeling you're a little farther from home than you were meant to stray. Considering most people aren't meant to leave their time. Moving on, I'd like to ask what has caused your physical state, if you'd indulge my curiousity. At least whether you know what's happened to your throat, since that's likely the only part I could help with. Albeit temporarily, the throat is strained very easily." The gentleness in his voice faded. They sound as clinical as ever.
"Um." She holds onto the strap of her overalls, nervously. "I... got hurt. Really badly. I don't really... wanna get into it." From her tense posture, and the fact she certainly looks like she's been through a lot, the experience was pretty obviously traumatic. "And, um. There's not much you can do about my throat. It uh. It almost got ripped out a while back. Pretty permanent damage."
"It's fine, we are all entitled to our secrets. And. You are correct in that I cannot do something about your throat. I did not study healing magic beyond what I needed for my doctorate."
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
The dial flicks to magenta, and a figure stumbles out. They straighten up immediately, brushing off their soft purple overalls nervously. Their hair is short and tied into a messy bun, grey hairs scattered through the black. There's a large burn scar on their face that covers one of their eyes, which has been replaced with a pink prosthetic. Their other eye is blue and wide, nervous. Their dark skin is pale and littered with scars. One arm is missing, the sleeve of their pastel pink shirt tied up to keep it from getting caught on anything.
The figure backs up the moment they see Lanuri, shivering slightly. Their voice is soft but hoarse, giving the impression their throat has been damaged and never healed. "Sorry, sorry, I'll get out of your way, sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"
Lanuri raises a brow at this display. His cold gaze analyzes the new person, staring almost judgementally at them. He speaks, in an uncharacteristically almost gentle way. It doesn't sound quite genuinely gentle as he requests, "No. Stay here. I would like to ask you some questions." They produce a blank clipboard from their coat, and a pen from his pocket. They wait for a response.
They nod, shakily. "U-um, okay. Okay. I can... I can do that. I think. I don't know much though, not... um. Not useful stuff anyway."
They wrap their arm around themself, clearly trying to calm themself down.
"I was not asking for useful information." Lanuri's sharp eyes seem to keep a glare, as he stares at them. They move the pen to their right hand, and reach his left out towards the unfamiliar face. Cracks are visible, lacing the surface of his hand like shattered stone. "I am Lanuri. I'd like to inquire what yours is."
"U-um. I'm Nadia. She her." Nadia seems visibly anxious, never letting her eye leave Lanuri. She seems worried that if she does, she might get attacked or something.
"He they, for myself." He watches her for a moment afterwards, almost expectantly. It doesn't last long, as they pull their hand back, and scribble a quick note down into the page. He doesn't seem concerned with keeping Nadia in their gaze. They mutter a comment, "Odd how few people I meet that know what a handshake is," before continuing at his speaking volume, "Do you know how you got here? Or where you currently are?"
"I um. I know what a handshake is. I just... I don't like being touched." She winces, visibly. "U-um... I don't... I don't know where I am or how I got here. I was supposed to be at home..."
"Oh, I see. Apologies for the assumption." He continues writing on the clipboard, and plainly replies, "And I have a feeling you're a little farther from home than you were meant to stray. Considering most people aren't meant to leave their time. Moving on, I'd like to ask what has caused your physical state, if you'd indulge my curiousity. At least whether you know what's happened to your throat, since that's likely the only part I could help with. Albeit temporarily, the throat is strained very easily." The gentleness in his voice faded. They sound as clinical as ever.
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*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
The dial flicks to magenta, and a figure stumbles out. They straighten up immediately, brushing off their soft purple overalls nervously. Their hair is short and tied into a messy bun, grey hairs scattered through the black. There's a large burn scar on their face that covers one of their eyes, which has been replaced with a pink prosthetic. Their other eye is blue and wide, nervous. Their dark skin is pale and littered with scars. One arm is missing, the sleeve of their pastel pink shirt tied up to keep it from getting caught on anything.
The figure backs up the moment they see Lanuri, shivering slightly. Their voice is soft but hoarse, giving the impression their throat has been damaged and never healed. "Sorry, sorry, I'll get out of your way, sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"
Lanuri raises a brow at this display. His cold gaze analyzes the new person, staring almost judgementally at them. He speaks, in an uncharacteristically almost gentle way. It doesn't sound quite genuinely gentle as he requests, "No. Stay here. I would like to ask you some questions." They produce a blank clipboard from their coat, and a pen from his pocket. They wait for a response.
They nod, shakily. "U-um, okay. Okay. I can... I can do that. I think. I don't know much though, not... um. Not useful stuff anyway."
They wrap their arm around themself, clearly trying to calm themself down.
"I was not asking for useful information." Lanuri's sharp eyes seem to keep a glare, as he stares at them. They move the pen to their right hand, and reach his left out towards the unfamiliar face. Cracks are visible, lacing the surface of his hand like shattered stone. "I am Lanuri. I'd like to inquire what yours is."
"U-um. I'm Nadia. She her." Nadia seems visibly anxious, never letting her eye leave Lanuri. She seems worried that if she does, she might get attacked or something.
"He they, for myself." He watches her for a moment afterwards, almost expectantly. It doesn't last long, as they pull their hand back, and scribble a quick note down into the page. He doesn't seem concerned with keeping Nadia in their gaze. They mutter a comment, "Odd how few people I meet that know what a handshake is," before continuing at his speaking volume, "Do you know how you got here? Or where you currently are?"
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
The dial flicks to magenta, and a figure stumbles out. They straighten up immediately, brushing off their soft purple overalls nervously. Their hair is short and tied into a messy bun, grey hairs scattered through the black. There's a large burn scar on their face that covers one of their eyes, which has been replaced with a pink prosthetic. Their other eye is blue and wide, nervous. Their dark skin is pale and littered with scars. One arm is missing, the sleeve of their pastel pink shirt tied up to keep it from getting caught on anything.
The figure backs up the moment they see Lanuri, shivering slightly. Their voice is soft but hoarse, giving the impression their throat has been damaged and never healed. "Sorry, sorry, I'll get out of your way, sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"
Lanuri raises a brow at this display. His cold gaze analyzes the new person, staring almost judgementally at them. He speaks, in an uncharacteristically almost gentle way. It doesn't sound quite genuinely gentle as he requests, "No. Stay here. I would like to ask you some questions." They produce a blank clipboard from their coat, and a pen from his pocket. They wait for a response.
They nod, shakily. "U-um, okay. Okay. I can... I can do that. I think. I don't know much though, not... um. Not useful stuff anyway."
They wrap their arm around themself, clearly trying to calm themself down.
"I was not asking for useful information." Lanuri's sharp eyes seem to keep a glare, as he stares at them. They move the pen to their right hand, and reach his left out towards the unfamiliar face. Cracks are visible, lacing the surface of his hand like shattered stone. "I am Lanuri. I'd like to inquire what yours is."
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
The dial flicks to magenta, and a figure stumbles out. They straighten up immediately, brushing off their soft purple overalls nervously. Their hair is short and tied into a messy bun, grey hairs scattered through the black. There's a large burn scar on their face that covers one of their eyes, which has been replaced with a pink prosthetic. Their other eye is blue and wide, nervous. Their dark skin is pale and littered with scars. One arm is missing, the sleeve of their pastel pink shirt tied up to keep it from getting caught on anything.
The figure backs up the moment they see Lanuri, shivering slightly. Their voice is soft but hoarse, giving the impression their throat has been damaged and never healed. "Sorry, sorry, I'll get out of your way, sorry, I didn't mean to bother anyone-"
Lanuri raises a brow at this display. His cold gaze analyzes the new person, staring almost judgementally at them. He speaks, in an uncharacteristically almost gentle way. It doesn't sound quite genuinely gentle as he requests, "No. Stay here. I would like to ask you some questions." They produce a blank clipboard from their coat, and a pen from his pocket. They wait for a response.
*Well, there's a door here. Seems similar to the ones that have been appearing lately. It looks oddly fancy in an inexplicable way... There's a strange dial on the door that can't be adjusted, which is currently blank. There's a note on the door.
The note reads "This Door Connects With Any Of The Various Timelines I Have Connected To My Garden. Right Now, It Is Set To Pull Through Whoever Is Closest When It Opens. I Have Added A Dial To The Door To Indicate If A Person Is Their Timelines Equivalent Of Myself Or Kishar - Indicated By Cyan - Utur, - Indicated By Yellow - Alam - Indicated By Magenta - Or If They Are Someone Specific To Their Timeline - Indicated By Green. Caution; Not Everyone Is Friendly. Should You Wish To Remove Someone Back To Their Original Timeline, Just Call My Name. Try Not To Cause Too Much Trouble. - Persephone."
The note is written in a slightly-glowing cyan ink on black paper. It smells oddly of roses.*
"Hmmm... How intriguing. I did not know about alternative universes." Lanuri stands there, watching as the color on the dial swaps between them, deciding. It takes several minutes for his curiousity to overtake their caution, and Lanuri opens the door.
[@oshafileclerk wanders near Lanuri's lab, holding a clipboard and a thin file.] Any... magician science ghosts around? Yoo-hoo? Mr. Malepir? Dear God, I hope I'm in the right place.
A nearby wall cracks, as it dissolves into fading blue strings, phasing through the rest of the wall. Behind it, a narrow doorway is recessed into the wall.
A head and arm, the arm clothed with a blue coat, are phasing through the door. Lanuri responds, "Dr. Malepir. I didn't suffer through college to be referred to as mister. Please, step inside. I'd rather not deal with the shadow creepers hanging about lately."
[David jumps.] Jeez!
[He doesn't like the name "shadow creepers", so he's quick to come in. He looks around uneasily.]
Um. Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Malepir. My name's David Smith. I'm officially a file clerk and unofficially a secretary and bookkeeper for OSHA.
The entrance room seems to be a repurposed chemistry lab, now the worktables all have various scrap pieces and computer components covering their surface.
Lanuri's floating behind one of the tables near the entrance, clearing the metal off of it. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Lanuri Malepir, a magician and scientist, as you already know. Is there a specific reason you've sought me today?"
[David smiles pleasantly.]
Very nice... laboratory? that you have, Dr. Malepir. It's a pleasure as well.
[He lifts up the file. Scrawled on it in messy handwriting is "LANURI MALEPIR".]
As mentioned, I'm sort of a bookkeeper around here. My part of OSHA has a bunch of information on... well, everything, but a long time ago a lot of our files were destroyed. I'm just looking to compile new documents, so I came here to... maybe have an interview? If you aren't busy, that is.
Lanuri considers as he finishes clearing the table. "Hmm... well you've been much nicer to the integrity of my walls than my last uninvited visitor, so I might as well give you the interview. Sorry if I can't answer a lot, I've signed a lot of NDAs in my day and those are, quite annoyingly, enchanted when dealt to mages."
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[@oshafileclerk wanders near Lanuri's lab, holding a clipboard and a thin file.] Any... magician science ghosts around? Yoo-hoo? Mr. Malepir? Dear God, I hope I'm in the right place.
A nearby wall cracks, as it dissolves into fading blue strings, phasing through the rest of the wall. Behind it, a narrow doorway is recessed into the wall.
A head and arm, the arm clothed with a blue coat, are phasing through the door. Lanuri responds, "Dr. Malepir. I didn't suffer through college to be referred to as mister. Please, step inside. I'd rather not deal with the shadow creepers hanging about lately."
[David jumps.] Jeez!
[He doesn't like the name "shadow creepers", so he's quick to come in. He looks around uneasily.]
Um. Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Malepir. My name's David Smith. I'm officially a file clerk and unofficially a secretary and bookkeeper for OSHA.
The entrance room seems to be a repurposed chemistry lab, now the worktables all have various scrap pieces and computer components covering their surface.
Lanuri's floating behind one of the tables near the entrance, clearing the metal off of it. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Lanuri Malepir, a magician and scientist, as you already know. Is there a specific reason you've sought me today?"
[@oshafileclerk wanders near Lanuri's lab, holding a clipboard and a thin file.] Any... magician science ghosts around? Yoo-hoo? Mr. Malepir? Dear God, I hope I'm in the right place.
A nearby wall cracks, as it dissolves into fading blue strings, phasing through the rest of the wall. Behind it, a narrow doorway is recessed into the wall.
A head and arm, the arm clothed with a blue coat, are phasing through the door. Lanuri responds, "Dr. Malepir. I didn't suffer through college to be referred to as mister. Please, step inside. I'd rather not deal with the shadow creepers hanging about lately."
[In an instant, the silliness level of Lanuri's lab shoots up!]
Lanuri had been slumped over one of his five desks, passed out when the silliness headache strikes him. Groggily, Lanuri fixes their glasses, and becomes scared of the silliness. "Do you mind?"
ho ho ho!
I've been summoned to fix a near terminal lack of silliness!!! you're a very grumpy and serious person. you don't even think you have time for joy and whimsy!!! I'm gonna bring some silliness into your life. don't even THINK of saying humbug.
Lanuri raises an eyebrow, and, almost testingly, says a singular word, "Humbug."
[Slightly loud incorrect buzzer]
[Quiet ding]
ooh, good! you're already getting oh-so-little silly!
"Uh huh. What would the next step then be, spirit of silliness?"
what are some things you consider to be serious and no-nonsense?
Lanuri seems mildly confused and amused by the question, and gives the question a few moments to consider. "I suppose I would say magic. It does require a sense of purpose to invoke, and if one preforms magic simply to channel it, there are typically destructive and un-ideal consequences."
hey look at this
[She conjures a cartoon anvil to fall next to Lanuri, but it doesn't damage anything. It seems to be an illusion, but a particularly strong one.]
Lanuri Malepir (pronounced lan-oory mah-le-peer), what's your favorite looney tune?
Lanuri remains mildly perplexed by Jackie's... everything. "That sure is a spell you casted. And how do you know my name and how not to pronounce it?"
[a Sherlock costume, mustache included, appears on her in an instant!]
simple silliness, mah leh pure!
[And an instant later, she's looking normal again. Still floating in the air though.]
Lanuri is also floating in the air, and seems to not be questioning the floatiness. Maybe he forgot gravity is real. "Uh huh. Why exactly are you interrogating me on how much I know about Looney Tunes?"
dodging the question
"It's because I don't know the Tunes by name."
that's just about the saddest thing Ive ever heard get said.
[She looks inexplicably like Dracula while saying this. She also does a comically bad impression of him. When Lanuri blinks/looks back at her/briefly stops perceiving her, she is back to normal.]
Lanuri does blink a few times, oddly confused by that. "It didn't really air while I could have watched. I don't really see why not memorizing their names is important."
[She holds up an image of Roadrunner.]
you don't know him???? beep beep?????
[She seems genuinely disappointed.]
Lanuri stares at the image for a few moments, trying to figure out the name of the Roadrunner. "That's.... the one that fucks with the coyote."
can you name it. it's really easy I prommy
"I'll name it Legs Bird."
I feel like radio static. I don't believe I'm supposed to.
A man sprints past on all fours at inhuman speeds, before noticing Lanuri's current state, skidding to a stop like a dog on a tile floor, and backing up to turn and speak to them, pulling off his gloves as he speaks.
"Willikers, you look like you're in a rough state. Are you some kind of ectoplasmic entity?"
Lanuri raises an eyebrow and floats back slightly. "Most people just say ghost unless clarifying the definition, you know."
"Well yeah, but I thought it'd be rude to assume you were a ghost, you might have been something else, like a zoochthonic entity or a disembodied consciousness."
"Those are both subsects of spectral entities, dependant on source and means of manifestation. Although I am not overly familiar with the former."
"Oh, yeah, Zoochthons are pretty rare. Native, living animals composed entirely of ectoplasm the way most animals are composed of conventional matter! But anyway, I'm Donovan D. Donovan, PhD, MD, DDS and a few other things."
This odd little man immediately drops into a professional, medical tone.
"So, you're looking a bit rough around the edges. Have you been eating properly?"
"Most ghosts don't eat, and I specifically avoided transforming into one that feeds on life or memory."
"True, true. But how do you deal with entropy?"
Donovan pulls out a notepad.
"Even most ghosts fade over time without some kind of psychic or emotional energy to sustain them, and if you don't have some kind of anchor, you might not have a steady source of input energy."
"Those ghosts fade due to either being a fading memory, or being stretched between an afterlife and a material world. A notable fraction of ghosts don't fade, due to be split off from the main soul. I, however, am wholly here, unstretched and unsplintered."
"Okay. So what do you think is causing the... fuzz, then?"
"I haven't had time to figure that out. Given that it only started a few minutes before you arrives."
While Donovan wouldn't really know the difference since he's never seen Lanuri before, Lanuri is more transparent than usual. Donovan would definitely notice that his hands and lower legs are fractured into geometric blue shapes towards the ends of the limbs.
"Oh, and my name is Lanuri, a magician and researcher of spectral things. Since I forgot to introduce myself."
"Oh! A magician. I should have guess, you guys always have something wacky going on. Anyway, normally I'd invite you the MSU office but Merlyn has a magic allergy."
Donovan thinks for a second.
"Oh! Of course, I almost forgot, we just set up a secondary office here at OSHA. If you come with me we can run some tests and see what's going on!"
"I believe I've met Merlyn before. She's the woman living in the castle in the woods with the goats and bizarre children, yes?"
"I dunno if she's a woman but all the other things you said sound correct," Donovan blinks.
"But anyway, let's get to my on-site lab and get some readings. Should be down this hall, actually!"
Donovan leads Lanuri down the hall to one of the numerous offices of the OSHA building, this one filled to the brim with a room that looks like it could have come out of a 80s-90s hacker movie. Beige boxes and cathode-ray tube screens as far as the eye can see.
"Gimme a minute to find my ectometric instruments... they must be here somewhere."
Lanuri follows along, mostly silent after that. Pondering what Donovan meant by that. He doesn't know about intricate gender identities.
The specter peers around while he waits for Donovan, commenting, "You certainly seem organized."
"Hah! Good one," Donovan chuckles, still digging through box after box of slightly antiquated-looking technology. He pulls out something that appears to be a heavily modified Nintendo Virtual Boy attached to a beige box with a floppy drive via a thick serial cable.
Donovan hands Lanuri the headset, "Here, put this on, I need to run some scans."
You say antiquated, Lanuri says what even is a virtual boy because he's fifty years older than it.
They look confused as he looks it over. "What do you mean put it on?"
"It's a headset. Put it on your face like a pair of goggles. When I press this green button it'll scan you through your eyes and send the readout to a floppy disk. Normally I use it to image people's souls but it also works on ghosts."
Donovan then takes said disk and slots it into the drive.
"When you're ready!"
Lanuri still looks puzzled, but they follow the instruction, and put it on. "One of them isn't mine, so perhaps it'll have different results than what I normally get."
"One of them? Oh, hand on, I need to switch something out."
Donovan unplugs the large serial cable from the disk drive and instead connects it to a nearby computer. The screen buzzes to life as the readout appears on the screen. Donovan presses the button and the machine roars to life, a bright light flooding Lanuri's eyes through the headset.
It feels strange, like somebody, something, some unknown and unknowable god, is staring deeply into their core, seeing through to the depths of their being and revealing every sin they have ever committed. The terror of being known in its most distilled, concentrated form.
Then the computer dings and it stops.
"Wow, this is some wild stuff! I've never seen this!"
It's been a while since Lanuri's experienced that feeling. It leaves him a bit shaken, as he was unprepared for that.
Lanuri removes the headset, placing it down atop the closest box, before clasping their hands together and floating closer to look at the screen.
Donovan intently scans the readout on the screen, briefly glancing back over to Lanuri.
"...Oh! Sorry, I should have warned you, it's a bit intense. Anyway, uh, how many souls did you say you had?"
"... One. I only have one soul." Lanuri peers over Donovan to read what he can see of the screen.
"But you said 'one of them isn't m-'"
Donovan notices Lanuri's mismatched eyes.
"...oh, you meant one of your eyes."
"Yes. My right eye is from someone else. Hm. Actually, I should ask if they felt that through their eye next I see them." A clipboard emerges from his coat, and he scribbles down probably what they just said. "What time is it?"
"Uh... huh."
Donovan falls silent for a moment and resumes reading the data on the screen, his frown deepening the more he reads.
"I know you said that you don't need to feed, but... these readings are consistent with acute ectoentropic wasting. That is, starvation."
Lanuri seems mildly annoyed at the lack of a response, and checks their pocket watch for the time while Donovan reads the screen.
He pauses, stunned, when Donovan explains what his screen says. "...What? I've examined myself for this before. Why has this become a thing that can happen..?" Uh oh. Lanuri's entering Deep Think mode. He's flipped the page on his clipboard and begun scribbling various ideas on this.
As a fellow mad scientist, Donovan knows not to disrupt Deep Think mode. He lets Lanuri have a bit of space as he thinks deep and hard, trying to catch a glance of whatever's on his clipboard.
Lanuri mouths various words, never seeming to form a full sentence with it. He doesn't stop Donovan from looking at his clipboard, though that doesn't make reading it any easier.
Their hand writing seems very fanciful, to the point that Donovan can't tell what some of the letters are, but... either he doesn't know how to spell many words or is writing in a partial code. He can parse some of it, and it seems like Lanuri's settled onto three main theories. One of them mentions lizards.
"...Is that Dutch?"
Donovan squints at the words, a bit baffled by what he's seeing.
Donovan's question snaps Lanuri out of Deep Think mode, as he responds, "Hm? Oh, no, not quite. I got cursed during a brief stay in England to write in an old form of English. I believe it was Middle English?"
"Heh, yeah, curses are like that. What do those notes say?"
Donovan can piece together tiny bits now that he knows it's kinda-sorta English, but he'd rather hear it straight from the ghosts's mouth.
"It's theories as to why it took so long for it to become a problem. The main ones I'm considering are that I simply don't need to feed very frequently, like how lizards and I believe some arthropods can go a month or so off of one meal. Another idea was that the event that caused my transformation also staved off the need for hunger for some time. My last main idea was that I was sustained by the magical hotspot created in my former lab, and due to the relocation and presence of other life it has not been as possible to maintain myself that way." Lanuri takes a moment to re-read his own notes, to make sure which ideas he wants to discard. "Oh, another possibility is that I was simply cursed to starve, though I doubt the building would be that desperate to make me talk to people."
[In an instant, the silliness level of Lanuri's lab shoots up!]
Lanuri had been slumped over one of his five desks, passed out when the silliness headache strikes him. Groggily, Lanuri fixes their glasses, and becomes scared of the silliness. "Do you mind?"
ho ho ho!
I've been summoned to fix a near terminal lack of silliness!!! you're a very grumpy and serious person. you don't even think you have time for joy and whimsy!!! I'm gonna bring some silliness into your life. don't even THINK of saying humbug.
Lanuri raises an eyebrow, and, almost testingly, says a singular word, "Humbug."
[Slightly loud incorrect buzzer]
[Quiet ding]
ooh, good! you're already getting oh-so-little silly!
"Uh huh. What would the next step then be, spirit of silliness?"
what are some things you consider to be serious and no-nonsense?
Lanuri seems mildly confused and amused by the question, and gives the question a few moments to consider. "I suppose I would say magic. It does require a sense of purpose to invoke, and if one preforms magic simply to channel it, there are typically destructive and un-ideal consequences."
hey look at this
[She conjures a cartoon anvil to fall next to Lanuri, but it doesn't damage anything. It seems to be an illusion, but a particularly strong one.]
Lanuri Malepir (pronounced lan-oory mah-le-peer), what's your favorite looney tune?
Lanuri remains mildly perplexed by Jackie's... everything. "That sure is a spell you casted. And how do you know my name and how not to pronounce it?"
[a Sherlock costume, mustache included, appears on her in an instant!]
simple silliness, mah leh pure!
[And an instant later, she's looking normal again. Still floating in the air though.]
Lanuri is also floating in the air, and seems to not be questioning the floatiness. Maybe he forgot gravity is real. "Uh huh. Why exactly are you interrogating me on how much I know about Looney Tunes?"
dodging the question
"It's because I don't know the Tunes by name."
that's just about the saddest thing Ive ever heard get said.
[She looks inexplicably like Dracula while saying this. She also does a comically bad impression of him. When Lanuri blinks/looks back at her/briefly stops perceiving her, she is back to normal.]
Lanuri does blink a few times, oddly confused by that. "It didn't really air while I could have watched. I don't really see why not memorizing their names is important."
[She holds up an image of Roadrunner.]
you don't know him???? beep beep?????
[She seems genuinely disappointed.]
Lanuri stares at the image for a few moments, trying to figure out the name of the Roadrunner. "That's.... the one that fucks with the coyote."
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I feel like radio static. I don't believe I'm supposed to.
A man sprints past on all fours at inhuman speeds, before noticing Lanuri's current state, skidding to a stop like a dog on a tile floor, and backing up to turn and speak to them, pulling off his gloves as he speaks.
"Willikers, you look like you're in a rough state. Are you some kind of ectoplasmic entity?"
Lanuri raises an eyebrow and floats back slightly. "Most people just say ghost unless clarifying the definition, you know."
"Well yeah, but I thought it'd be rude to assume you were a ghost, you might have been something else, like a zoochthonic entity or a disembodied consciousness."
"Those are both subsects of spectral entities, dependant on source and means of manifestation. Although I am not overly familiar with the former."
"Oh, yeah, Zoochthons are pretty rare. Native, living animals composed entirely of ectoplasm the way most animals are composed of conventional matter! But anyway, I'm Donovan D. Donovan, PhD, MD, DDS and a few other things."
This odd little man immediately drops into a professional, medical tone.
"So, you're looking a bit rough around the edges. Have you been eating properly?"
"Most ghosts don't eat, and I specifically avoided transforming into one that feeds on life or memory."
"True, true. But how do you deal with entropy?"
Donovan pulls out a notepad.
"Even most ghosts fade over time without some kind of psychic or emotional energy to sustain them, and if you don't have some kind of anchor, you might not have a steady source of input energy."
"Those ghosts fade due to either being a fading memory, or being stretched between an afterlife and a material world. A notable fraction of ghosts don't fade, due to be split off from the main soul. I, however, am wholly here, unstretched and unsplintered."
"Okay. So what do you think is causing the... fuzz, then?"
"I haven't had time to figure that out. Given that it only started a few minutes before you arrives."
While Donovan wouldn't really know the difference since he's never seen Lanuri before, Lanuri is more transparent than usual. Donovan would definitely notice that his hands and lower legs are fractured into geometric blue shapes towards the ends of the limbs.
"Oh, and my name is Lanuri, a magician and researcher of spectral things. Since I forgot to introduce myself."
"Oh! A magician. I should have guess, you guys always have something wacky going on. Anyway, normally I'd invite you the MSU office but Merlyn has a magic allergy."
Donovan thinks for a second.
"Oh! Of course, I almost forgot, we just set up a secondary office here at OSHA. If you come with me we can run some tests and see what's going on!"
"I believe I've met Merlyn before. She's the woman living in the castle in the woods with the goats and bizarre children, yes?"
"I dunno if she's a woman but all the other things you said sound correct," Donovan blinks.
"But anyway, let's get to my on-site lab and get some readings. Should be down this hall, actually!"
Donovan leads Lanuri down the hall to one of the numerous offices of the OSHA building, this one filled to the brim with a room that looks like it could have come out of a 80s-90s hacker movie. Beige boxes and cathode-ray tube screens as far as the eye can see.
"Gimme a minute to find my ectometric instruments... they must be here somewhere."
Lanuri follows along, mostly silent after that. Pondering what Donovan meant by that. He doesn't know about intricate gender identities.
The specter peers around while he waits for Donovan, commenting, "You certainly seem organized."
"Hah! Good one," Donovan chuckles, still digging through box after box of slightly antiquated-looking technology. He pulls out something that appears to be a heavily modified Nintendo Virtual Boy attached to a beige box with a floppy drive via a thick serial cable.
Donovan hands Lanuri the headset, "Here, put this on, I need to run some scans."
You say antiquated, Lanuri says what even is a virtual boy because he's fifty years older than it.
They look confused as he looks it over. "What do you mean put it on?"
"It's a headset. Put it on your face like a pair of goggles. When I press this green button it'll scan you through your eyes and send the readout to a floppy disk. Normally I use it to image people's souls but it also works on ghosts."
Donovan then takes said disk and slots it into the drive.
"When you're ready!"
Lanuri still looks puzzled, but they follow the instruction, and put it on. "One of them isn't mine, so perhaps it'll have different results than what I normally get."
"One of them? Oh, hand on, I need to switch something out."
Donovan unplugs the large serial cable from the disk drive and instead connects it to a nearby computer. The screen buzzes to life as the readout appears on the screen. Donovan presses the button and the machine roars to life, a bright light flooding Lanuri's eyes through the headset.
It feels strange, like somebody, something, some unknown and unknowable god, is staring deeply into their core, seeing through to the depths of their being and revealing every sin they have ever committed. The terror of being known in its most distilled, concentrated form.
Then the computer dings and it stops.
"Wow, this is some wild stuff! I've never seen this!"
It's been a while since Lanuri's experienced that feeling. It leaves him a bit shaken, as he was unprepared for that.
Lanuri removes the headset, placing it down atop the closest box, before clasping their hands together and floating closer to look at the screen.
Donovan intently scans the readout on the screen, briefly glancing back over to Lanuri.
"...Oh! Sorry, I should have warned you, it's a bit intense. Anyway, uh, how many souls did you say you had?"
"... One. I only have one soul." Lanuri peers over Donovan to read what he can see of the screen.
"But you said 'one of them isn't m-'"
Donovan notices Lanuri's mismatched eyes.
"...oh, you meant one of your eyes."
"Yes. My right eye is from someone else. Hm. Actually, I should ask if they felt that through their eye next I see them." A clipboard emerges from his coat, and he scribbles down probably what they just said. "What time is it?"
"Uh... huh."
Donovan falls silent for a moment and resumes reading the data on the screen, his frown deepening the more he reads.
"I know you said that you don't need to feed, but... these readings are consistent with acute ectoentropic wasting. That is, starvation."
Lanuri seems mildly annoyed at the lack of a response, and checks their pocket watch for the time while Donovan reads the screen.
He pauses, stunned, when Donovan explains what his screen says. "...What? I've examined myself for this before. Why has this become a thing that can happen..?" Uh oh. Lanuri's entering Deep Think mode. He's flipped the page on his clipboard and begun scribbling various ideas on this.
As a fellow mad scientist, Donovan knows not to disrupt Deep Think mode. He lets Lanuri have a bit of space as he thinks deep and hard, trying to catch a glance of whatever's on his clipboard.
Lanuri mouths various words, never seeming to form a full sentence with it. He doesn't stop Donovan from looking at his clipboard, though that doesn't make reading it any easier.
Their hand writing seems very fanciful, to the point that Donovan can't tell what some of the letters are, but... either he doesn't know how to spell many words or is writing in a partial code. He can parse some of it, and it seems like Lanuri's settled onto three main theories. One of them mentions lizards.
"...Is that Dutch?"
Donovan squints at the words, a bit baffled by what he's seeing.
Donovan's question snaps Lanuri out of Deep Think mode, as he responds, "Hm? Oh, no, not quite. I got cursed during a brief stay in England to write in an old form of English. I believe it was Middle English?"
I feel like radio static. I don't believe I'm supposed to.
A man sprints past on all fours at inhuman speeds, before noticing Lanuri's current state, skidding to a stop like a dog on a tile floor, and backing up to turn and speak to them, pulling off his gloves as he speaks.
"Willikers, you look like you're in a rough state. Are you some kind of ectoplasmic entity?"
Lanuri raises an eyebrow and floats back slightly. "Most people just say ghost unless clarifying the definition, you know."
"Well yeah, but I thought it'd be rude to assume you were a ghost, you might have been something else, like a zoochthonic entity or a disembodied consciousness."
"Those are both subsects of spectral entities, dependant on source and means of manifestation. Although I am not overly familiar with the former."
"Oh, yeah, Zoochthons are pretty rare. Native, living animals composed entirely of ectoplasm the way most animals are composed of conventional matter! But anyway, I'm Donovan D. Donovan, PhD, MD, DDS and a few other things."
This odd little man immediately drops into a professional, medical tone.
"So, you're looking a bit rough around the edges. Have you been eating properly?"
"Most ghosts don't eat, and I specifically avoided transforming into one that feeds on life or memory."
"True, true. But how do you deal with entropy?"
Donovan pulls out a notepad.
"Even most ghosts fade over time without some kind of psychic or emotional energy to sustain them, and if you don't have some kind of anchor, you might not have a steady source of input energy."
"Those ghosts fade due to either being a fading memory, or being stretched between an afterlife and a material world. A notable fraction of ghosts don't fade, due to be split off from the main soul. I, however, am wholly here, unstretched and unsplintered."
"Okay. So what do you think is causing the... fuzz, then?"
"I haven't had time to figure that out. Given that it only started a few minutes before you arrives."
While Donovan wouldn't really know the difference since he's never seen Lanuri before, Lanuri is more transparent than usual. Donovan would definitely notice that his hands and lower legs are fractured into geometric blue shapes towards the ends of the limbs.
"Oh, and my name is Lanuri, a magician and researcher of spectral things. Since I forgot to introduce myself."
"Oh! A magician. I should have guess, you guys always have something wacky going on. Anyway, normally I'd invite you the MSU office but Merlyn has a magic allergy."
Donovan thinks for a second.
"Oh! Of course, I almost forgot, we just set up a secondary office here at OSHA. If you come with me we can run some tests and see what's going on!"
"I believe I've met Merlyn before. She's the woman living in the castle in the woods with the goats and bizarre children, yes?"
"I dunno if she's a woman but all the other things you said sound correct," Donovan blinks.
"But anyway, let's get to my on-site lab and get some readings. Should be down this hall, actually!"
Donovan leads Lanuri down the hall to one of the numerous offices of the OSHA building, this one filled to the brim with a room that looks like it could have come out of a 80s-90s hacker movie. Beige boxes and cathode-ray tube screens as far as the eye can see.
"Gimme a minute to find my ectometric instruments... they must be here somewhere."
Lanuri follows along, mostly silent after that. Pondering what Donovan meant by that. He doesn't know about intricate gender identities.
The specter peers around while he waits for Donovan, commenting, "You certainly seem organized."
"Hah! Good one," Donovan chuckles, still digging through box after box of slightly antiquated-looking technology. He pulls out something that appears to be a heavily modified Nintendo Virtual Boy attached to a beige box with a floppy drive via a thick serial cable.
Donovan hands Lanuri the headset, "Here, put this on, I need to run some scans."
You say antiquated, Lanuri says what even is a virtual boy because he's fifty years older than it.
They look confused as he looks it over. "What do you mean put it on?"
"It's a headset. Put it on your face like a pair of goggles. When I press this green button it'll scan you through your eyes and send the readout to a floppy disk. Normally I use it to image people's souls but it also works on ghosts."
Donovan then takes said disk and slots it into the drive.
"When you're ready!"
Lanuri still looks puzzled, but they follow the instruction, and put it on. "One of them isn't mine, so perhaps it'll have different results than what I normally get."
"One of them? Oh, hand on, I need to switch something out."
Donovan unplugs the large serial cable from the disk drive and instead connects it to a nearby computer. The screen buzzes to life as the readout appears on the screen. Donovan presses the button and the machine roars to life, a bright light flooding Lanuri's eyes through the headset.
It feels strange, like somebody, something, some unknown and unknowable god, is staring deeply into their core, seeing through to the depths of their being and revealing every sin they have ever committed. The terror of being known in its most distilled, concentrated form.
Then the computer dings and it stops.
"Wow, this is some wild stuff! I've never seen this!"
It's been a while since Lanuri's experienced that feeling. It leaves him a bit shaken, as he was unprepared for that.
Lanuri removes the headset, placing it down atop the closest box, before clasping their hands together and floating closer to look at the screen.
Donovan intently scans the readout on the screen, briefly glancing back over to Lanuri.
"...Oh! Sorry, I should have warned you, it's a bit intense. Anyway, uh, how many souls did you say you had?"
"... One. I only have one soul." Lanuri peers over Donovan to read what he can see of the screen.
"But you said 'one of them isn't m-'"
Donovan notices Lanuri's mismatched eyes.
"...oh, you meant one of your eyes."
"Yes. My right eye is from someone else. Hm. Actually, I should ask if they felt that through their eye next I see them." A clipboard emerges from his coat, and he scribbles down probably what they just said. "What time is it?"
"Uh... huh."
Donovan falls silent for a moment and resumes reading the data on the screen, his frown deepening the more he reads.
"I know you said that you don't need to feed, but... these readings are consistent with acute ectoentropic wasting. That is, starvation."
Lanuri seems mildly annoyed at the lack of a response, and checks their pocket watch for the time while Donovan reads the screen.
He pauses, stunned, when Donovan explains what his screen says. "...What? I've examined myself for this before. Why has this become a thing that can happen..?" Uh oh. Lanuri's entering Deep Think mode. He's flipped the page on his clipboard and begun scribbling various ideas on this.
As a fellow mad scientist, Donovan knows not to disrupt Deep Think mode. He lets Lanuri have a bit of space as he thinks deep and hard, trying to catch a glance of whatever's on his clipboard.
Lanuri mouths various words, never seeming to form a full sentence with it. He doesn't stop Donovan from looking at his clipboard, though that doesn't make reading it any easier.
Their hand writing seems very fanciful, to the point that Donovan can't tell what some of the letters are, but... either he doesn't know how to spell many words or is writing in a partial code. He can parse some of it, and it seems like Lanuri's settled onto three main theories. One of them mentions lizards.
