Lone Planetfarer

She could probably come up with something cuter. Tragically, she didn’t know Vitie all that well. Nothing too personal could be made outside of her name… for now! Always the opportunity to change things—

“Doot. Doot!”

Humming, Hyacine stood in thought. Did she want to cheat? Well, that hardly seemed fair to the little ones hiding… “I think I’ll go without an answer sheet for now. At least until we’ve spent lots of time here, that okay with you?” 

“Doot!”

Hm? A new—oh! Hyacine quickly rushed to Little Ica’s side to find—

Rolls : 5, 1, 5 — orange skin, pink filling, moustache — 4 — shades eye type — 8 — teardrop mutant trait Total points: 7 

—an adorable little one! “Awww, aren’t you cute! Or should I say cool with your shades?” Another one down. 

“That’s a really cute one,” I say, remarking on the catcake Hyacine just found. I consider it for future mascot Vitas. The small ones would look particularly good with shades, but the ones that resemble me more would also steal the show! All mascot Vitas are wonderful and versatile that way, not unlike these cute catcakes.

I step onto a stack of boxes, hovering just slightly to avoid any chance of damaging them. Reaching as high as I can, I pull a particularly small catcake from one of the wall’s ridges. This one is a bit busy, the strange clover mutation and the large, sparkling eyes somehow taking away from the pleasing color scheme of orange and dark grey.  

(grey skin, orange filling, no pattern, sparkle eyes [2 points], clover mutation [3 points], phlogiston mutation. Total 5 points)

This one blinks twice quickly at me, and I rest my judgement somewhere I don’t see it. This catcake is cute. I would like to show it to that Marah at some point and tell her that she’s not nearly as cute. I’d bet the look on her face would be priceless…

Ah-hah! Looks like the other had arrived. Twirling around, she waved at the other. “Hello! Looks like Caelus paired us up. I’m sure he already sent you the message but, my name’s Hyacinthia. Feel free to call me Hyacine instead though. And this—”

“Doot-doot!”

“—is Little Ica! My usual partner in crime. I think we can split off? I can take whichever side you—huh? Did you hear that?”

“…ow…eow…mew!”

Definitely cat sounds. Aaaand a catcake would make cat sounds, right? Focusing on where the sound came from, she signalled to Little Ica to search that area. A few seconds later and Little Ica had stopped behind one of the boxes. Alright! Mission is a go!! 

Rolls: 2, 4, 1 — purple skin, purple filling, no patterns — 1 — no eye type — 7 — flower mutant trait — 2, 10 —protein rice Total points: 4

“Found you! Sorry, little one, we’ll be taking you out of here, okay?” Huh, this one looked a lot like Cassie, wow! A quick photo to send her later shouldn’t be too difficult, right? “Aaaaand cheese!” With the selfie taken, she turned around to where Vivi was. 

“Where would you like to go looking next, Vivi?”

It seems like my partner today is this bright-eyed Hyacine. She’s very pink, and she talks a lot, there’s no space for me to introduce myself before she’s already off. In some ways, she reminds me of Susannah, but I with my Vision am very sure that comparison is only superficial. Her companion is a winged horse that looks to me like they’re made of marshmallow, or fabric, perhaps. I wonder if it’s soft to the touch!

It’s certainly useful, at least, as it comes up with the first catcake of the day. It’s definitely a good find, but I’m not to be beaten. I can already See a good amount myself. Poor Caelus has a lot of work ahead of him.

“Actually, let me go grab this one first!”

I move toward the nearest door. This catcake is quiet, but that means nothing for me. In one less-than-graceful move, I dart in and grab it.

Orange skin, black filling, ^ pattern (1 point), heart eyes (2 points), frill mutation (2 points), totaling 5 points.

lyric from "Crime For a Crime" by Ani DiFranco

Dr. Loren’s expression twitches slightly. Perhaps, she is unamused by her temporary assistant’s cloying performance. You speak before the older researcher can, “Of course. I’m happy to help,” timing yourself so the sentence begins right as Dr. Loren is about to open her mouth. From the corner of your eyes, you notice as she shuts her mouth, her jaw setting into a look of mild displeasure. You take a look at the pile of binders, folders, and loose-leaf papers in the lookalike’s arms. Carefully, you begin to pick a few of them up, one by one. “It really is quite heavy,” you add with a gentle laugh, adjusting your arms beneath what you have taken as Dr. Loren watches. Then, she turns around and continues walking toward her cubicle without waiting for the two of you to follow.

You follow her. As you walk, you devote your attention to the stack of things in your arms, managing to extricate a supporting hand in order to sift through the loose-leaf papers. Unlike the scrap you had picked up earlier, these are far more legible and well-preserved, despite the occasional marginalia. Almost furtively, you look up toward the older doctor, but she remains seemingly unconcerned with you. Carefully and miraculously, you manage to re-stack the pile so that the loose-leaf papers are at the bottom, pressed crisply against the underside of your forearm. Now, what sits on top is an aged folder, discolored and softened with age. That’s promising, right? — one might prematurely think.

Leaning slightly toward the stranger who is not your friend, you spare a glance at her familiar face. She doesn’t keep her eyes closed. You lower your voice to a whisper in order to engender further camaraderie, using your somewhat-free hand to gesture toward her half of pile. “That paper had cryptograms on it.” You begin, explanatory yet hushed, though you aren’t really concerned if Dr. Loren overhears you, “If it fell out of one of these folders and binders, there could be more like it.”

You slip a pair of fingers into the folder atop your pile, feeling the texture of its contents. Smooth, without any bumps or indentations from heavy-handed penmanship or dried white-out. Not promising after all, comes the delayed self-correction — but that, too, might be jumping to conclusions.

I listen to her whispers gleefully. “A puzzle, then?” I wonder why she let Loren take the paper. We could have deciphered it. Then again, Loren’s reaction could be important information. “We should try to solve it!” I pack my excitement tightly into my body. Perhaps we should try to steal some of the papers, but I can’t mention the idea with Loren so close by, not without invading minds. I follow Interesting Person’s lead as we walk, sifting through the papers and binders and folders in my hand, bringing the most suspicious-seeming ones to the bottom.

Though perhaps the story is with the doctor, my attention remains thieved by my companion. I see the psychic marks just as clear on her as anyone else, but, pushing gently, I struggle to look into her mind. I press my eyes shut to hide their glow, but even blocking out visual stimuli doesn’t help the strain. I’m unsure whether that’s because of something about her, or if the sick feeling I get by doing so is a personal failing. I come upon those sometimes, memories shoved deep down spreading their tendrils across my subconscious, warning me to stay back for fear of losing control. It’s an annoying feeling that I should be above, but the Creator wasn’t above it, no, she had to lose everything in order to fix these sorts of problems within her. I will never be prepared to do what she did. I give up and let my eyes twitch back open.

Loren’s pace, slowing down just slightly with every step, lands me and my companion only a couple of steps behind her. I decide to use this opportunity to try to turn my impression more positive. “By the way,” I say, directing my words to my companion. “My name is Vita. Bite your bottom lip for the ‘Vi’, and flick your tongue off the back of your teeth for the ‘ta’! How about you?”

This notice will serve as an announcement of my plans after the closure of Gnostic Hymns. Information regarding all three of my current muses is here!

*worthlessness, futility

Not that his body itself had much ability, given how physically weak he had always been across millions of lifetimes - a conglomerate of all of those memories he was now, but still the same man he had always been no matter what - but the ability to interact with the physical world again was more valuable than anything else. He gained far more being able to get his hands properly on all of his research and that which he cared for than any amount of strength.

Curiosity could draw the embodiment of reason anywhere he allowed it to. But he did have a reason beyond curiosity this time. A reason that perhaps his teacher would be proud of him for having even now. Or not. Their interests had always been a little misaligned even when they were in the same area. Perhaps Anaxagoras would simply like to think that his teacher would be proud of him because of how much the man had meant to him. There was no lifetime in which he would ever be able to pay back Empedocles for all that he had done for him, for all that he had cared for him.

I laugh myself off. “Anyway, you do know that there’s a far more interesting situation here than just a young politics prodigy, right?” I almost hope he doesn’t, that I can settle easily back into my role of ‘the annoying person who knows too much.’ I’d be stingy too in that position, but at least I’d be pushing everyone to succeed!

I turn my eyes back to the Vidyadhara child, trying to blink away the remnants of my Gaze. The swirling teal wisps emanating from the child’s head fade and I see the child as everyone else must have seen them, a smug-looking thing with more confidence than they should have earned. They carry a wooden crate in one hand, as if bringing their nearly literal soapbox to stand on wherever they need. They’ve already gathered a crowd of other Vidyadhara, mostly other children, who seem to be enamored with the possessed one. 

lyric from "Crime For a Crime" by Ani DiFranco

“Excuse me,” you call out with absent-minded courtesy, voice softer than you intended, only half-paying attention to whether the older researcher and her impromptu assistant have heard you. What's written on the piece of paper is inscrutable to you — messy handwriting, overlapping notes, and portions slathered in white-out. The words you can make out are equally nonsensical — colors, mathematical notations, what look like proper names, and so on. Could it be some kind of encrypted code...? You resist the urge to try possible decodings — you don't have enough information to make this kind of assumption. For all you know, they could be short-hands, or simply, unrelated details jotted down in passing. Still, it seems too curated, with its patches of white-out, to be discard-able.

Looking up from the piece of paper, you notice that the others have walked on ahead, already. You were too quiet, earlier. Breaking into a light jog after the two of them, you call out again, louder this time, “Excuse me!”

The older researcher turns and makes eye contact with you, eyes dark with a chilling indifference that you suspect often darkens your own. Then, her gaze drifts to your hand, the slip of paper within it, and her flat expression twitches for a brief moment. “I'll take that,” she remarks coldly, almost stalking toward you to swipe it from your fingers. You let her take it. “I saw it fall out while you were handing over the binders,” you say to the older woman, half-lying. “Is it important? It might be worth it to make a digital backup.”

“No, it isn't,” the older woman replies as she turns away from you, tucking the piece of paper into the small binder she's carrying. Then, addressing her temporary assistant, she moves on from the topic entirely, “My cubicle is this way.”

I wonder if the paper really is unimportant, or if the woman’s just passing it off as such. This person took a long moment to gaze at it, after all. Maybe I should do the same, later. Right now, I have a lot to carry. I nearly trip backward as I hoist my pile of binders and papers back to its center of gravity as it starts to shift sideways. I catch myself instinctually by levitating just slightly, realizing only once I’ve done it that levitating isn’t the best way to avoid attention. I just can’t help my excellence, can I?

I look to the direction this woman indicates when she tells me where her cubicle lies. A quick glance with my Eyes of Bodhi tells me that it’s a straightforward enough walk, if a bit far. I’m not entirely sure I can balance my burden long enough on heels to make it there without levitating properly. I don’t walk in heels often enough—why should I? And so I turn to the critical presence, layering my voice with honey and mirth. “Hey, why don’t you come with? I would absolutely love some help carrying all this, I’m honestly not that strong! Plus, that paper you found…I’d like to take a look myself, I’m so curious as to what could be on it!”

I take a moment to probe into the woman’s mind just a little. If I come off as someone who knows her, then maybe I could trigger some curiosity into Miss Interesting Person here. “Loren, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”

I realize my mistake when I see the lanyard dangling from her neck. Dr. Loren. Well, there goes my plan, surely…this woman may be an infant if compared to my age, but I’ve come to realize people don’t know to respect their elders if they haven’t experienced the phenomenon of old age “Dr. Loren, I mean! My bad, my bad!” I laugh, and it croaks painfully out of my throat.

lyric from "Crime For a Crime" by Ani DiFranco

Today, it’s the planet called the Blue, or rather, the space station in orbit around it. Its aesthetics remind me a little of Griseo’s ship, but the comparison ended there. Bright, bustling, and oversized, it never seems to slow down. It’s not the sort of place I’d enjoy spending a lot of time in, but just a little is fine, of course! I remember the layout well enough from A Fool’s Hand, so I settle down by the elevator to the Storage Zone, hoping that it would be quiet enough here to avoid drawing too much attention.

My gambit is very quickly foiled as I simultaneously sense the presence of someone critical and am approached by an older woman who just came up the elevator, holding a stack of binders and loose sheets of paper.

I decide to first focus on the woman, who’s clearly struggling to carry her pile. The interesting presence can be for a later investigation. I’m certainly not pressed for time, not outside the imaginary internal energy intertidal zone. (What a mouthful, right?) 

Graciously, with eyes asparkle, I hold my hands out. “Excuse me, but would you like some assistance with that?”

“Thanks.” The woman unceremoniously dumps most of her things into my arms, keeping hold only of one small binder at the bottom. “I’m taking these to my desk, follow me.” Her tone is clipped and monotone, and it seems to me that she has somewhere to be, or perhaps she needs to get between storage and her desk with haste because of something I’m carrying? The mystery intrigues me slightly, enough to not immediately dig into her mind for the answer.

A single loose piece of paper, torn in half, falls from the side of the stack of binders I carry. I take a quick glance at it before continuing onwards behind the woman, my heels clicking on the smooth walkway.

A majority of the locals the young man had interacted with have been all but enthusiastic about sharing their customs and stories, that always had Ororon at the edge of his seat. He was eager to take everything in with rapt attention and a willingness to learn everything he could during his indefinite stay. Liyue Harbor has been one of the many places he had dreamed of visiting now that he was able to venture out of Natlan, and he was glad to be able to jump at the chance!

… But with anything new comes new experiences, as a sight like no other literally ran into him as he was making his way back after a quick stroll through the Plains. Unexpectedly, his arm is grabbed, which causes him to freeze on the spot. Ororon was immediately on high alert by this action, and quickly whips his head around to find two Treasure Hoarder's, looking at him with a mixture of both clear desperation and panic written over their faces. Which was a tell-tale difference to their usual smug attitudes.

"Sir! Please, you have to-"

"We don't know what happened! One minute-"

Words flew out of the Treasure Hoarder's mouths that were almost impossible to understand, as they talked over one another in a frantic manner. His eyes darted between the two, trying to decipher what they were attempting to explain, but, ultimately, Ororon, feeling bad for them, cuts them off.

"Hold on. Wait." He says, which silences them. "What happened?"

Which is how he found himself in the Chasm. Walking down the worn-down wooden planks that led directly down into the Chasm's Maw. Ororon, curious, glances down at his eventual destination, and unconsciously lets out a small nervous laugh before tearing his eyes away. Having to push down some of that raising fear that began to grow within him. Shaking those unpleasant feelings away, Ororon continues his downward trek, but stops again once he notices a lady just up ahead with grayish brown hair. The bat tilts his head in question before he remembers. 'The Treasure Hoarder's mentioned another who agreed to help in their plight! Maybe this is her!'

He jogs up to the women with a smile before asking, "Hello! Are you also here to help the lost Treasure Hoarder's as well?"

My contemplation is interrupted by a local, asking me about some “treasure hoarders”. If the little Vitas were here I could probably be enticed by a pirate adventure. I could rub it in Marah’s face. Today, though, I’m not really in the mood. “I’m not, no. It’s unfortunate that they got lost, though! I hope your rescue mission goes smoothly. Be safe down there!”

I’ll try my best to keep an Eye on it. If it doesn’t go smoothly, I can save them and get some street credit here, that’d be useful for future explorations. I look back up the path to the Chasm, a couple terrified humans—treasure hoarders, I assume—looking nervously at the local. Maybe he has some experience, but why would he be so disorganized as to think I was here to help?

*worthlessness, futility

I hear the sound of a starskiff whizzing through the air somewhere I can’t see with my normal eyes, still upon the Vidyadhara. It leaves a ringing in my ears despite it being distant.

Of course, none of this is my problem. I truly do feel for that sorry child, but there’s so much of the Xianzhou Luofu to see, and I can’t be wasting time with dragon politics. There’s nothing interesting about politics when they don’t involve you at all. I turn around, starting in the direction of the noise of the starskiffs. Maybe if I’m lucky, it’ll play out like it did in “A Fool’s Hand” and there’ll be lots of crashes and some Songque equivalent pleading for mercy? I could definitely go for an aerial chase right now…

I muse on this as I walk, and I’m debating myself on the ethics of wishing for starskiff crashes (would Sparkle approve?) when I brush past a familiar presence. I look up quickly, relaxing into a smile as I see who it is (someone strange. Nobody important, nothing to worry about). “Oh, I remember you from the Solwarm Festival! What brings you to the Luofu?”

Even times like these she is still smiling. She is either naïve, or faking it, and this one seems to have some experience behind them. Moving from Vita, Citlali looks towards the ground in front of her. I've been a bad companion huh. It's been days and I know virtually nothing about this person.

She stretches, adjusting the pillow to support her back. "Vita, tell me. what's you... favorite food."

Even about something small like that, being forthcoming doesn’t come easily to me. My smile wavers slightly as I speak, but thankfully I do have almost perfect control over that. It remains ever-present on my face. “I’ll ask you the same, then! But…right after we deal with this.” I turn around to face the frosted insect that approaches us.

I ready my weapon, letting it loose with so much force that I accidentally tear a void in space. It closes quickly, but I’m surprised with myself. Do I really want it gone this quickly? I suppose I do! It frustrates me, interrupting while Citlali and I were having such a nice time, how rude! I keep slicing and shooting, my weapon like a spiral galaxy cutting through space. I leave clumsy cuts in the world’s fabric, missing the enemy most of the time. I tell myself that I need to take a breath and calm down.

Once Vita finds a good enough space to land, the two touch down in base camp, battered, bruised, and bleeding. After laying down on one of the medical beds, she turns, wincing, facing Vita, How could this happen... Am I really that weak? I keep getting saved by someone much younger than me. This really isn't an image befitting a granny. I really got to step it up. Otherwise she might start to hate me.

After a while of rest, the two manage to regain enough strength to stand on their own two feet. Citlali, covered in bandages, stares at the rubble, her expression dead pan, but her eyes look coldly towards the oncoming fights.

I open my Eyes to scan the area. The area to our right is filled with an amount of monsters that even I find strange and surprising. Is there something there to gather them, or is it just because they want to go here?

In comparison, forward is an area that seems empty. More of a break sounds particularly appealing to me right now. I’m still in an amount of pain that I can’t entirely keep off my face, despite Citlali using precious energy to keep me stable. Moreover, I’m exhausted. I look my best when I’m well-rested, but I couldn't focus enough to dream. “Let’s go that way,” I say, pointing forward. “We can guard against incoming enemies there.”

I hover over the snow, keeping my heel dragging against the ground to avoid losing my shoe. I keep my pace slow so Citlali can keep up, turning back every so often to check on her. I can feel that rage radiating off her, and it’s a bitter taste in my mind.

After being freed, quickly turns towards Vita, Thanks for that... I knew there were more enemies but this really starting to feel never ending. This threat is constant and pervasive, just like the abyss once was like back home.

Citlali, regaining her footing, each step rebuilding her own confidence, There better be some good alchohol back at camp.

Rushing into combat, the two run into the fight side by side, now more expereinced facing an enemy like this one. Though, last time they had the help of Bronya and the purple haired one. This time it they were all alone.

I'll block its vision, you attack. Her tone hardly suggestive, she rushed forward, trusting absolutely that her partner would follow behind. At least, she wished it was absolute.

After sending a surge of snow to obscure the monster's vision, Citlali hesitates, her head turns slightly, making sure Vita is in position.

A miscalculation.

Alright. Another of those large monsters is really the last thing I want to handle. Without Star Traveler and with an injured Citlali, I don’t love our chances. Even so, I repeat the strategy from before, attempting to break its exoskeleton by shooting feathers at a single point. I make just a small crack before things begin to go terribly.

I feel Citlali’s pain in my head, like spikes coming out from inside me. I nearly buckle to my knees, but Citlali’s voice comes aloud as she shouts a warning, still focusing on the battle. Her fortitude feeds mine, but I ignore her anyway, skating over the snow to her side. She’s on her back, head against rubble. She got clawed right in the side, and it doesn’t look good at all. I’ve never done medicine. This is entirely out of my wheelhouse.

I should have been paying more attention. The monster shadows over us both, and I turn around just in time to see it slam me to the side. I feel a rib crack as I collide with force against a collapsed wall. I cough up blood. Energy flows from me, and I manage to direct it into the monster. It batters it, but it comes towards me anyway. I feel my consciousness begin to fade, but I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep.

Her cheeks redden, Perish the thought, now is not the time for this.

"Agreed. These rotten excuses for life don't deserve the moon light they walk in. Running won't do them any good as long as we are around." Following up on the opportunity created by Vita, Citlali runs around behind her, throwing another plushy at the enemy to obscure their vision before closing in. As she gets close, she ducks underneath one of the claws, but in doing so, she left herself defenseless against the second one. Shit...

I miss something, and I’m unable to react quick enough to keep Citlali from being pinned by one of the creatures. With enough numbers, even the best can get overwhelmed! I sigh and call to my companion beyond the stars. “It’s you and I, Star Traveler. For Citlali!” I rip open a few small gaps in space, just big enough for Star Traveler to respond to my plea. 

It fires lasers from through the holes, and the enemy is vaporized. I’m relieved to see there was no damage to Citlali. It’s very risky to pull moves like that when I’m not fully synchronized with my companion, so I remind myself not to end up in a position that would force me to do that again.

I swim through the air to Citlali’s side. “It's alright now!” I say this out loud as well as projecting it into her mind. I continue guiding my weapon through the torsos of the enemies, sending feathers into their brains one by one. It’s not fast enough. If I were alone, Star Traveler could kill all of them in one punch, but the collateral simply isn’t worth it.