hugtopia_logs | ♥ September Intro Mingle Log

♥ September Intro Mingle Log

a park scene in autumn with a lake, trees, a bench, leaves on the ground

September Intro Mingle Log
Welcome to Hugtopia, and to the city of Havenwell. This mingle is meant for new arrivals to get settled and meet the other inhabitants. New characters should be the only top-levels but everyone should feel free to tag around and make new friends. Who knows, you may find that Perfect Hug in here. You can use the prompts here, or create a wildcard of your own.

ICly, this takes place from the 2nd to the 16th and then we'll have a shiny new event post up for you all soon after that date range. The prompts below are optional, but are a way to get you started if you wish. To help you create your own prompts, please take a look through our Settings and FAQ. Click on each prompt's title to see the text. If you have any questions, feel free to direct them to the FAQ or to the Mod Question thread below.

❥ PROMPT I: Awakening

When you awaken, you're in the last outfit you remember wearing, three of your belongings laid nearby or your animal friend curled up by you, waking as you do. It's not the most comfortable place to sleep, a stone slab, but once you're awake, a humanoid-looking robot comes in and explains you're in Havenwell and leads you out of the room and into the main portion of the temple where a welcoming committee of similarly humanoid-looking robots hand over a clear smartphone-sized tablet, some starting funds, and explain their dilemma. Then they release you into Havenwell to pick your new home from free housing in the city and give you the chance to settle. It might be a bit disorienting, but thankfully there seem to be a lot of robots and even some non-robots around. Maybe ask them for help?

❥ PROMPT II: Buddy System

two fingers together with smiling faces drawn on

With all the changes going on, it might be hard to be a new arrival to Havenwell. The natives understand! Sort of. When some new arrivals begin to appear at the temples, receive the welcome speech, get their communicators and the simple map of the city, they get taken to the front of the temple by a helpful robotic priest. Rather than turn the newcomers loose right away, they pull someone seemingly at random off the street and push the two people together with a cheerful, "Here's your guide to Havenwell! It's dangerous to go alone, so be buddies!" before going back inside.

They try to place a new arrival with one of those who previously arrived, but who can keep track of all that, right? Characters may find themselves thrown together with an actual veteran or with another new arrival who only came here a day or even just an hour before them! Good luck helping each other out, offworlders, and don't lose your buddy!

❥ PROMPT III: Weather Wildcard

a vertical slice of several different weather conditions, from sunny to storms

Havenwell's weather is generally so well controlled, with beautiful blue skies and temperate climes that it's hard to remember that there's a whole world out there that might not be so nice. Every so often, however, the controls break and something not so nice and temperate comes through. Pockets of unpleasant weather happens all over the city at random intervals and new arrivals might find themselves and others caught without warning. Is that a snowstorm with green snow? Sure is. A windstorm that only seems to affect three streets? Yup. Did a deluge of rain just pour the equivalent of an Olympic sized swimming pool of water on you? Uh-huh, sure did. A deep cold fog that suddenly rolls in and blankets your entire area? Yeeaaah... hopefully there's someone around to help you get about and find shelter or just dry off and get away from it all. Good luck, offworlder.

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[Now it's his turn to bite back an expression of something both nameless and stunned, flipping through emotions with the rush of a leaf down the stream in a second. There's a turn where his statesman's presence steps in to mute it all, guarding himself, but even that honed in him over the decades can't completely stamp out the possibility that he's standing in front of... of what? A reflection of the Warrior he knew? Another life of the same soul?]

[He doesn't know. The idea of another universe parallel to his own is not unknown to him, though he knows it in a shard of the Source, one of so few that remain. Each of them had had their own Warriors, each of them had had their own heroes, but none by the same name. And she knows his.]

No apologies needed, though I must offer mine. I could never forget the Warrior of Darkness, and you are not the one I know... but you do sound as though we have met. [Few knew his true name anymore, the Warrior of Light and of Darkness among them, so it stood to reason that they had, indeed, met, and he had no memory of any of it. But where, and how?]

[He would ask outright, but to risk rudeness in the face of a tone such as that, he could never. His is not a soul of cruelty.]

Much as goes on in these worlds that I do not yet understand, I fear I never will. Perhaps we could find our way to a resting place and wait out this fog together?

The first time you — the G'raha of my universe, rather — and I encountered each other was in Urth's Gift. You had beaten me to the item I sought, then proposed a race. You were horribly smug about it. [ Her tone is one of fond reminiscence. Those days feel so long ago now she can scarcely believe it. ] We weren't properly introduced until Saint Coinach's Find, however.

[ She shakes her head, and turns to squint through the fog around them. Still no change in its density. ]

It's likely the fog will clear before we reach it, but I can lead us to my current dwelling if you care for conversation and tea.

(( ...looking up old quest logs for referencing and i cannot believe i forgot how huge a troll he was back in the day hahaha ;u; ))

[Those days, farther from him now than from her, stir in his mind's eye as she speaks of them, regaling a tale he himself had lived in another time, in another world. The events she relates are those that he himself was a part of, though the Warrior he teased looked nothing like her. He can't help but wonder how this has all come to be, and worries over what it means, though he'll keep that part to himself.]

[Part out of respect for her, part to offer his friendship all over again for what it is, his hands raise and bring his hood back over rusty hair and graying tips, long miqo'te ears, and the same blood red eyes that had started him on his journey as a youth.]

You paint a story of the exact footprints I followed with the man I know. It is as if we are two versions of the same tale.

[And a kind smile with a nod to complete it.] I will be glad to accompany you, my friend. Please.

(( XDD omg he was such a little troll brat! Precious catte. I stll adore that pout.))

[ So his Warrior was a man, she thinks. Such a blatant difference between them. It makes her wonder what else is different. This other Warrior is likely the far better choice, as she imagines he wouldn't me missing two decades of memories.

But she shoves all of those thoughts aside. Now is not the time for that.

He lowers his hood, and even through the obscuring fog she can recognize his shape and features. It makes her smile, because despite not being hers he is still a G'raha Tia, and that will always count for more. ]

Mirrors histories that run parallel, never to overlap.

[ It's as Era closes her eyes briefly, sensing for that beacon of Darkness that she is always peripherally aware of, locates it, then opens her eyes and turns to face it. A quick relay through her connection with her summon and Carbuncle begins to lead the way 'home'.

...It occurs to her then that perhaps the revelation that she shares residence with an Ascian is one best saved for later, considering... Era glances at G'raha briefly.

The fog makes it difficult to type with any certainty, but she sends Hades a quick flurry of messages:

> Could you put on the kettle? > And once you sense my aether nearby could you kindly vacate for a time? I would rather you not scare off my company. > Please, and thank you.

Their camaraderie is... questionable. Indefinable for the moment. And if Era doesn't know what to make of this odd relationship she can't even imagine what the Crystal Exarch would think. Would his Warrior of Light have settled in with an Ascian so easily? ]

It should take naught but a few minutes, and Carbuncle will lead the way for us.

[ She pauses, weighty and hesitant, but eventually adds in a voice softer than before: ]

My name is Era.

[For everything that might separate them in their travels to this very point in time, all he can see separating them is a divide built of uncertainty and the fog in the air, but they can control one of these things. And he is drawn to her, as he was to his own hero, for curiosity as always and for want to be for her what a Crystal Exarch in her own world was, whoever he was. Her familiarity with him already tells him he should already know - to her, he is the same person, or was until they learned where their paths split.]

[He will walk with her regardless, head tilting slightly at the look she gives him before she attends her communication device, where he diverts his gaze, respectful of her privacy.]

Never to overlap? [A gentle smile.] Not even here in this world, where neither of us expected we should ever find ourselves?

[He lets the humor go, as he is wont to do these days, careful not to overstep his bounds with anyone or anything where necessary. The mantle of a ruler is still heavy on his shoulders, though it holds no merit here. A century and more of leadership is no easy habit to break.]

[His ears shift slightly at mention of her name; a shade brighter touches an already warm smile.]

Thank you, Era. Would that we could have met within the same memories, but I am certain we shall be friends no less.

[ Emet-Selch responds, and what has now become her customary expression of exasperated amusement flits across her face before quickly shifting to honest annoyance. Era types out another message and shoots it off with a small huff, then turns her attention back to current company. She catches the humour and offers a wane smile before speaking: ]

Worlds such as these seem to be the exception, acting as multiversal landings apart from all the rest. [ Clearly she's had time to consider all of this, if the confidence with which she speaks is any indication. Her steps are equally confident now, following the bright glow of her Carbuncle. It shouldn't be too much longer until they reach the townhouses. ] We are but tiny fragments of our respective universes, pulled away and placed elsewhere. Our worlds — they will never meet unless the multiverse faces Calamity. Even now, should we return to our respective planes, we will most likely naught remember this place.

[ Era sighs, shoulders sagging slightly. She is so tired of being in worlds not her own (the First excluded, of course, because how could she not consider it her own as well?) ]

I would like to be friends. [ There is a wistful tone to her voice. She has missed her friends to a degree beyond words, but this is... ] Just because I am the Warrior of Light of my world... You need not feel obligated to friendship for what I am, G'raha Tia.

[He is ignorant of her conversation on the communication device, eyes kept to the road before them until she speaks to him again.]

Is that so? My knowledge of other worlds beyond the Source and its shards is, I fear, limited in this, perhaps even elementary. If all I have done here will be forgotten, it seems such a terrible waste of an opportunity, but I have much to research while I can.

[The tone isn't lost on him, and something in it makes his heart ache. There is a... almost a pain there, and he hasn't ever been one to see such things and want not to reach out, for as little or as much as it would help. His own tone softens as much as the leader's mantle will allow.]

I understand your concerns. Allow me to assure you that I do not offer my hand in friendship for what you are, but who you are. If you are the Warrior of Light in your world and you knew me well, as I knew my own, I can but conclude that if we were friends in our respective realms, we will be again here. We need only to know each other once more.

[Him, perhaps, anew, and her with some advantage over him in that she knew a G'raha Tia on her own world, and might, through that, know his perks, his eccentricities, his nature as the Exarch and strengths and failings of that. The playing field might be uneven, but it would be played no less.]

I've a few months of experience in a different world than this. It is by no means a large pool of data to work with, but enough to form a rudimentary theory when combined with what others knew. [ It being a terrible waste is something she can certainly agree with, though the waste is worth the security of her world's fate. ] Perhaps memories of here may remain? My memories of Deerington are still intact here, oddly enough, and so it is not an impossibility. When I was returned home from there it was to the exact moment I last remembered, and it was as though I never been gone.

[ A sigh. A shrug. ] The multiverse is a strange and complex thing.

[ As they near their destination the fog has lightened to a mist that does not so heavily obscure the world around them. It removes that odd blanket of almost-silence; the aura of privacy and confinement. Her footsteps grow lighter though her thoughts do not. ]

These past months I've been forced to be not the Warrior of Light or Darkness, but the person beneath the mantle. I have been forced to be a woman I know naught of instead of the weapon I am so familiar with.

[ Her steps remain steady. One foot in front of the other. Ever moving forward, as the Warrior of Light is wont to do. ]

I still do not know who she is, so I could not say if my G'raha would view her as a friend.

[All of this is, while not new, still quite different than what he knows. To have managed to reach across time and space so many times before and summoned souls to a world, and to have moved across worlds himself with a powerful artifact in tow, is not known to him. In that, he thinks he may have some small idea of how this all worked, but not with this technology. Not with a world so far advanced from even what he knew on the Source in his own time, when everything was falling to decay and destruction and war.]

[And memories had never been in question then. He never feared for the nature of the soul he brought to the First, only for the physical form. A soul was one thing, fluid and ethereal as the rift itself, but a body was foreign and prone to harm in such a realm. His ears bobbed gently, listening with no small amount of interest.]

Not exactly what I am used to working with in a time before this world, though I will admit to very little expertise on the matter. [How relative that is to so much right now. He can relate, having long nearly forgotten the spunky youth he had once been, repressed under the weight of the Exarch he had become.]

[There is a brief, silent reflection on that, and he responds, voice quieted.]

You and I are no strangers to slipping into what the world needs us to be whether or not we are ready for it. I confess, I do not know who or what I will be now for this realm, or you, for that matter. But we could ask for worse ways to rediscover ourselves, and it will not be a journey we will take alone.

[Once upon a time, his smile might have shone with a confidence more exaggerated than felt, even with the enthusiasm and fearlessness to back it up came to play. Now, it was quiet, sure, heavier in foundation than in appearance. And, if he found it strange that here he found himself trying to bolster her confidence in herself, as he had with so many before her, he did not show it.]

This world would insist that we help it by not being alone, in any event. Am I, do you think for all you know of this Exarch, capable enough to join you in that endeavor?

[ Being what others needed her to be is what has defined who she is for her entire life, and never has she wavered in it until now. 'Rediscover ourselves' he says, and Era cannot look him in the eye, instead focusing on the path ahead. There is no rediscovery for her, only discovery. She knows, distantly, and through the anecdotes of one who met her when she was turned into a child, that she was once Kiyomi. A child who lived in Coerthas and hated herself for what she was.

Era also knows that in soul she is someone else.

But she has no memories of these for her own, and so she is merely the Warrior of Light. The Warrior of Darkness. Hydaelyn's Champion. Hero of Eorzea. Whatever else people deign to call her instead of the name she gave herself.

Era can see her residence in sight, absent of Emet-Selch's weighty presence for the time being. That he was kind enough to vacate is a relief. Carbuncle picks up speed, all but flying to the door, sitting itself down and wriggling excitedly, waiting for them to reach it.

She glances to her not-friend and offers a wane, weary smile at his words. Her arms cross, wrapping around herself absently just as her tail shifts to curl around her thigh. The body language is oddly closed off compared to the expression she wears. ]

I do not mind offering company, but I'm afraid I am ill-suited to aid this world in the way it asks. [ She doesn't elaborate with words, but that shift in her posture certainly says enough all its own. ] I will support you in your endeavors however I can, regardless.

[The Carbuncle darts ahead of them, a door to one of many apartments coming into view at last, and sits waiting expectantly, obediently. It is adorable, he will confess, and he can’t help a smile at it. These creatures are not new to him, but he has never adopted one of his own; the companionship might have done him some good in retrospect. So small, so open and excited, such a contrast to its master.]

[The movements at his side don’t go missed. He notes the arms shifting and, at a tilt of his head to glance in her direction, he notices her tail gone around her leg, closing herself off physically, balling up in… defense? Discomfort? Unease?]

[Whatever the emotion or combination thereof, a voice in the back of his mind questions him, wondering if something he said had been the trigger. They were long used to the measures of combat, standing as a shield and weapon at their own manner of front lines for longer than he cared to count and, he was sure, longer than she cared to recall. While his magic and diplomacy protected his people, her might and steel or spells had done the same for an entire world’s worth of lives. In truth, he could only imagine, and whims of the mind would never come close.]

[Not to think that their only contact had been of a trying sort - they had friends, comrades, brothers and sisters in arms and in every day comings and somewhat peaceable goings. But the rifts existed between Exarch and Warrior and those they held near and dear. Lines had been drawn long before they ever knew what those lines were, boundaries formed behind the bubble of celebrity. For his part, the Exarch accepted this as necessary and sometimes painful truth of his station. The Warrior of Light and of Darkness had done the same, though they both saw the mark it left on the other. Hands drifted a little too close in comfort, seating arrangements closed distance by ilms, grins and telling ear gestures of their race passed more freely between them in language long unused by one of them and understood all the same.]

[But what did Era do? Where did his assumed familiarity with the Warrior begin and end with her? Where did her boundaries lie, that she would huddle as she did and curl into herself as if bracing for some distant threat? Patience, experience told him, would earn him some of those answers. He might not be able to help this world with her cooperation, but he would not force it - never would force it. Truth reigned in his words when he had said he wanted only to be her friend and be there for her, even if she did not believe him.]

For now, any physical contact with another stands as the least of my worries. I am afraid it is something I am no longer accustomed to in any world, and it will take getting used to if I am to help in such a way, if that is truly what this city needs. I would be glad for your company and conversation and we shall leave it at that.

I've never been accustomed to it, and I must admit I've... little desire to be. Though I am happy to aid in whatever other ways I can.

[ She says it plainly as she leads G'raha to the door. Carbuncle yips once, eager and demanding. As soon as the door is opened it bursts through and, despite knowing full well that Emet-Selch is not there, begins sniffing whatever trail the man left behind before finally settling on the couch he favours and moping.

Era rolls her eyes at its antics. ]

You're as dramatic as he is. Go run after him if you miss him so much.

[ For its part, Carbuncle does seem to consider this for a moment. In the end it sprawls out languidly across the couch, taking up far too much space. Era sighs, and returns her attention to her guest, offering a small smile and seeming far more at ease in her own space. ]

That all said, I'm also more than happy to offer you company and conversation whenever you wish it.

[ She gestures to the living area. ] Feel free to make yourself at home.

[As closed off as she is with him here and now in her body language alone, he wouldn't blame her. Distantly, he wonders - worries, in truth - what had happened to her to draw away as she did. The Warrior he knew had been guarded to many, but reluctantly open with a trusted few. They had been newly reopening those doors between them, he and that man, though the locks were more on the Exarch's side than the Warrior's, but he was careful not to paint her in that same memory. Warrior of Light and of Darkness that they both were, each in their own worlds, it was painfully obvious that they were not the same person.]

[Nor, to her, was he the same Exarch. He couldn't help wonder just how close to hers he had come.]

[He nodded, tapping the toes of his sandals against the porch outside of her front door to knock the sands from them before entering, and then watches as her Carbuncle explores the abode in search of someone, by Era's words. Another Carbuncle, perhaps? A roommate? This world was, after all, notorious for wanting and needing to put its inhabitants in close proximity to one another. Another smile lit his lips to her gracious offer, but he doesn't take to a seat immediately. Instead, he ambles closer to the center of the room, gaze turning this way and that. It wasn't what he had been able to offer at the Crystarium, but it was what it would be.]

Thank you, my friend. How are you liking these living arrangements? Your Carbuncle seems to like it quite well, and I must agree. It looks warm, comfortable.

[ Era lets out a soft hummed note as she considers his question; absentminded, lilting, and melodic. She wanders to the kitchen and sees not a kettle of boiled water but a tray with fully prepared tea and a selection of dried fruits and nuts to complement it in lieu of biscuits. It brings a smile to her face as she picks it up, carrying it to the living room. ]

My living arrangements are agreeable enough. It will never be home, but it's... safe, and provides comforts. [ She shoves Carbuncle with her tail, making room for herself beside it as she places the tray down and seats herself. ] I imagine Carbuncle would be happy in the streets if it still had the company of our roommate — it is quite taken with him.

I've been under the impression that all of the free housing is identical. Is yours not similar?

In arrangement and style, yes. Much of the housing in the Crystarium was built with nearly identical floor plans as these have been here.

[He neglected to mention that the ones in the Crystarium had been built with a little more space in mind as a creature comfort to those who had been torn from everything they'd ever known and loved, out of gratitude for a roof over his head and privacy at all. He also neglected to mention that his privacy was, for now, absolute - he kept no roommate for the time being.]

[Instead of offering these confessions, the Exarch settled himself in a seat companionably close on a different couch near the table and refreshments, hands settled upon his lap in a habit far too proper to be casual between old friends.]

Far better than finding shelter among trees or along the streets, at any rate. The people of this world have been exceedingly generous with us, considering the nature of their physical forms and what they provide to their guests regardless. Of course, I shall be speaking with them soon to see what they recall of the events that led all of us here and of their deities' predicament, but for now, we should rest.

[He considered the tea and the fruits and nuts on the tray, remembering that such things did not easily grow in this world any longer.]

Is that... a product of the replicators that have been described to me?

[ There isn't much that Era can say as of yet that is complimentary regarding their current 'hosts', and so she offers a small nod in agreement to his first point — she does much prefer a place with a shower over taking shelter in trees (however few they may be) or alleyways. ]

I wish you luck in your querying. They don't seem altogether fond of sating curiosity. [ Era picks up a dried bit of apple and tries not to feel irritated by the threats of jail she's already encountered. ]

It is, yes. I can't say I wholly trust them, but it is preferable to starvation.

[He nodded a polite thanks, considering her.]

Faced with the alternative, what choice do we really have? ["We," he says, only because he doesn't know what will happen to him now that the Tower is not here to keep him hale and whole. Allowing his health to decline won't help anyone, least of all Era.]

It stands to reason if they want our help, it would be in their best interest to keep us alive, but time will tell. [Who better, he thought to himself, to stand between the people of the city and harm's way than a fabled warrior and a man who had helped to raise a city from dirt and refugees to prosperity? He wasn't eager to jump into a fray of any kind, never had been, but by now he knew more than enough to know it might well come to that. Their worlds were different, but still beyond those walls, a threat lingered.]

[Rather than continue the thought, too close to home now for both of them, he reached out and took one of what looked like a nut of some kind from the tray and brought it closer to his face, turning it this way and that to examine it.]

And this was... created of thin air, within this replicator?

Edited 2019-10-14 16:40 (UTC)

Then it would also stand to reason that they would provide the supplies needed for us to take care of our medical needs, and yet we've not even the most basic of antibiotics. If I'd a garden I could create some basic remedies... [ She trails off, giving a small shake of the head as if to rid herself of the thought. There isn't any use dwelling on what she could do with things she does not have. ]

I know little of how such things work, but it would not be able to create things out of nothing. They likely use particles of energy that are then formed into the requested structures, not dissimilar to how one can create things from aether if one knows how.

[Even in light of her frustrations, he can't help a sense of nostalgia, a sense of knowing without knowing what it was that he knew, or felt he knew. Perhaps he was seeing shades of his own Warrior in her, or perhaps he thought he saw a kinship in a fellow sentience given to helping others as he was.]

If this technology is able to manipulate this world's aether, or what passes for that here, then it might be used in some way to create the medicines and what we would need. My magic and yours will draw on our own aether, although that, regrettably, is in limited supply.

[Is, and would be for quite some time, until they found a way to get around it. He set the nut upon his tongue and chewed thoughtfully, mind drawn inward to a predicament that had no imminent threat to any of them, but that he would rather have found a solution to before one ever challenged them.]

I imagine some small measure of Garlean methodology might come in handy in a place like this, loathe as I am to consider the methods of a culture that would take for its own anything that it could.

[ That is certainly a thought to consider, and consider it Era does. ]

Aether can be replenished, much like blood. If we were able to use it to create and stockpile what we needed over a period of time it would be feasible. My natural aether stores are... quite vast, and would likely be a boon. Yet immeasurable as they are, I need to be cautious with how much I expend.

[ She occupies herself with her tea, frowning against the rim of her cup. The injuries she gained during her time on the First may be healed on the surface, but she knows some scars of Light remain within, and not just the ones in her eyes. ]

Whatever else they are, the Garleans are ingenious at innovation. I would say at the moment there are few who can match up to it. It's unfortunate that their leader's ideals are so at odds with our own.

[He won't say he hadn't thought on it himself, but the look from him at her suggestion hides no small measure of concern and alarm. As much as he had been made to ask of his own Warrior and the Scions of late, he is loathe to place another burden on any Warrior's shoulders, even if that might soon become a necessity for them both.]

[He is only all too aware of how needs care not for wants. As much as it pains him again, he can't and won't tell her not to consider it herself.]

It had not been my intention to suggest we should begin the process of creating for this world what it cannot for eventualities out of caution. Better to be prepared against what we cannot predict than to be left wanting in a dire moment. If at all possible, I would use what we can of this world's technologies to create that means for us and preserve what aether and strength in ourselves that we can, should we find that in greater demand.

[He can only hope that it won't turn that way, but in a world so unpredictable where they know little and less of what they should to arm themselves against its dangers, they might need to consider any options.]

That, they were. I have ever wondered from time to time what might be accomplished had our nations on the Source - Garlean included - been more amenable to cooperation than to conflict.

[ She lifts her head to look at him, concerned frown still in place, and gives a shake of her head. ]

All life of the First and the Source have the same origin, and thus our immune systems would be able to provide some protection against the diseases of both. We have no such assurances here. A simple cut could fester and kill any of us, and without medicines we would have no recourse. Antiseptics can do nothing for an illness once it finds its way beneath the skin.

It would be ideal to use the technologies here to prepare for such a thing, yet our 'hosts' are not so willing to share the necessary resources with us. First, we must earn their trust, but how long will that take? I have seen children here, G'raha, and there is only so much I am capable of healing with raw magic alone.

[Further concerns voiced, he remembers the clinics in the Crystarium long before the city even had proper walls, families in Kholusia who could barely raise crops enough for food let alone medicines, the soil darkened by Black Rose on the Source that would never again sustain life. He remembers all of these things and will not speak of them again, heart sharing a pain that many carried on in their worlds even now, and that though everything seemed calm in this world, could just as easily rise again at the blink of an eye.]

[Tragedy always struck so quickly, always when it was least expected.]

[Crimson gaze diverted, lingering on the tray between them without seeing it.]

As have I. I would sooner see them not have to carry around ailments, young or old. I would suggest working toward preparations on both fronts, then. While we win over our hosts, we should seek out alternate means of building stores of what medicines we might create. Others must have means by which they treat injury or illness, and I should like to speak with them on the matter as well.

I could leave some synthetic food to grow rot, and see if I can culture some rudimentary penicillin from it. I'm afraid I won't be winning our hosts over in the near future — what I learned of advanced medicine over the past few months will likely be the most I can offer.

[ She speaks as though it isn't much, and to her it truly isn't — there is so much that she hasn't yet learned, and thus cannot yet offer. The standards she holds herself to are much too high, and yet how could she possibly lower them when countless people of numerous nations look up to her as the vaunted Warrior of Light? Someone who is legend, not mortal. ]

In the meantime I will continue to hope that we all remain in good health.

I am certain those of us here share your sentiment in that. I, for one, would sooner see our luck continue. But as we cannot rely on luck alone, I will do all I can to aid you and the others.

[They might not be from the same world, but he is no less giving of himself to the greater good here than he was in his own world - or perhaps in hers. What he is, what he has, what he can do, it is what he will offer.]

[Starting with a gentle quirk of a smile, something of a ghost of G'raha Tia within it.]

Including, if you so wish, assisting you with growing this penicillin.

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astralera - 2019-10-26 17:43 (UTC) - Expand

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rewritten_history - 2019-11-02 15:35 (UTC) - Expand

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