Astral Eye

    The Atheneaum is... rather quiet, at the moment. Shibuya has been evacuated, after all - the only people left are those who have business here in the wartime, or who call it home and won't abandon it. For a certain fox at the desks on the second level, it's a combination of both. Books are spread around her since she has no competition for workspace, and her trio of tails swish behind her like a beacon in the dark.

    The titles, where they /exist/, all have to do with Divination; Developing the Inner Eye, Mysteries of the Heavens, Whispering Flames... though she's taken surprisingly few notes from it all, looking at her paper and the almost-ciphered jotnotes on it.

    ... though, really, probably the first thing about her Robert might notice is that she's actually cleaned up, and looks a lot more /present/ than she did that night in Eas.

Estelle isn't the only one who looks a bit neater. Refugee evacuations are not a moment one primps for, after all. That said, it must be admitted that her improvement surpasses Robert's by far. His manner and dress are utterly bland, though he has at least managed to ensure that mud stays off his boots (and, by proxy, off the Atheneaum's floor).

His entrance is brisk, his approach brisker still. He takes no time to admire the interior decorations as he takes the steps up to the second level two at a time, his booted heels sounding on wood with a crisp and even tread.

"Hello," he states as he draws near, drawing the chair across from Estelle away from the desk and neatly installing himself there. "Thank you for contacting me. Sensations and impressions, you were saying?"

    The vixen glances up at the sounds of boots on wood, taking in the other Adventure with a glance. Her last memory of him is a bit... muddled, after all. But she just gives a smile and a nod in greeting. "Sensations and impressions. To continue putting things into context, I did a Divination for Uta, looking for a location of historic import... and got both a clear vision of what it looked like, and a direction - east." Her hands gestures in that direction. "The feedback from the techniques varies based on factors I'm still working out, but..."

    "As I said, in this case I just got impressions." She spreads her hands, settling back in her chair instead of leaning over her research. "It was... disharmony, misalignment, struggle. The sense of being against oneself, of not living by ones own values, and the internal struggles that that causes. A neglect of emotional connection for material goals."

SpritesHero frowns. The frown only deepens as Estelle continues her description, brow furrowing hard down the middle. He slowly leans back in his chair, the long, low exhalation hissing again the interlaced hands he brings to his lips, and his gaze drops to contemplate the table in front of him. He remains thus for several long moments, silent, before his gaze flickers up towards Estelle once more.

"I assume this description indicates that the opposition forces are more prone to this misalignment than people are in general?" he queries, eyebrows sliding upwards by a notch. "What do you make of these impressions?"

    "New World Alliance 'intelligence' - I don't know the entire providence of it, but it did come from some who had investigated the Palance Lands before the War started, and who were there when it did, and who've put some time into things since - has mentioned a group called the 'Uncrowned'. But that is all we know about it, its name. We've also gotten various different reasons for why the Adventurers are fighting, depending on which adventurer was asked. One is simply doing so because he was commanded it by his Queen, another because she'd been told of Adventurers causing chaos, and paving the way for calamity to strike the Palace Lands through ignorance and greed..."

    She shakes her head after a long moment, sighing. "The impressions I get are vague, but always applicable to the question asked. So I think we're looking at an opposition with schisms in it, ones that could - potentially - be used against them. It's an assurance that they are not an entirely united force, but a series of alliances. We must simply look for the right leverage, and seek the best places to use it. What is the english phrase again? 'Give me a place to stand, and a lever long enough, and I will move the world.'"

    She folds her hands on the desktop, fingers woven, silver eyes gleaming in the light as she meets Robert's gaze. "So we need a lever and place, in this case, and we know where to look. But, for now, my research is in how to keep from being looked /on/, a way to shield important meetings and preperations from other Diviners."

SpritesHero considers Estelle's response with eyebrows still up-lifted before they--and his hands--drop to a more neutral position. "Curious," he murmurs at last. He meets her gaze easily enough, though he breaks the contact early and often. He is prone to breaking eye-contact whenever he mulls something over, though he shows no hesitation in re-establishing eye contact immediately afterwards. "I would of course expect some level of differences of opinion, differences of perspective, differences in rationale. But--and please correct me if I have misunderstood--it seems to me that your divinations suggest a deeper level of misalignment. An overwriting or twisting of what is already present. Is this a reasonable interpretation, or am I off base?"

The remainder of her words are left unremarked upon, for now, though he gives no hint of disregarding them and listens attentively enough throughout.

    "I would say that it is, yes." The vixen nods, after a moment of turning the words over in her head - which has her breaking eye contact, and instead turning it up to the constellations in the glass above them... and the stars faintly visible beyond, through the pollution of the lights inside the library. "Especially since, though this is third-hand, Uta apparently mentioned a prior Adventurer-Lander war /within/ the Palace Lands. I haven't actually talked to her directly about it, though we do need to converse soon."

    "... Some of the others have spoken of their belief that someone is manipulating it all behind the scenes, but I don't know what they were basing it off of. Merek was among them, and he can work off of gut feeling a lot of the time, even if he does his research in other situations." There's a curling flick of her tails, the three limbs intertwining.

SpritesHero tilts his head to the side as Estelle's tails curl and flick, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the corners. It's as though to say 'interesting', and she might observe he pays considerably more attention to her tails from here on out.

"And is Merek usually correct, in your experience?" Robert questions, the faintest hints of doubt edging his expression, coupled with a dash of wariness. There's no potency to the expression, no emotional investment, and yet it seems there's something about Merek that gives him pause.

He circles back to the previously unaddressed. "You mentioned you are working on defenses against Divination. I don't know how or if I can help, but please let me know if I can do anything. Do you have a sense of how far behind we are when it comes to Divinations? If at all?"

    "... That's a loaded question. He's right sometimes, he's wrong sometimes, but he has the highest Death count of any player I know about. He can be wildly reckless at times, even as he carefully planned out a trading company, and set up farms for various plants the Landers passed over that were useful or valuable." Estelle's tone is... careful, there. "But, from what I hear there were several suspicious things about the Wave in the Palace Lands. Like how they didn't see any of the incredibly powerful enemies I've come to expect from it. That makes me rather wary."

    As the topic turns to her research, though, she looks down at the books and sighs. "... I imagine that, over all, we might not be 'behind', persay. I have a suspicion that Divination works with the Laws of Alba - within the System. We have a number of people on our side capable of breaking those laws, of giving or removing System Protection and using Data Drain and other such things." There's a shake of her head, and she looks up to meet his eyes once more. "But, I can't judge what degree we're interfering with each other, if that's even happening. It's just a suspicion - and one I'm investigating now, including reaching out to a Lander Diviner I have an acquaintaince with."

Well -that- sets off warning bells. Robert's gaze sharpens right up as "various plants" are mentioned. He straightens, even leans forward a tad, arms folded across each other atop the table. Right before he remembers that such things aren't really his concern, at which point he relaxes. A very, very little. "You suspect a fake wave," he summarizes, with just a smidge less intensity, the mental change of subject leaving him a bit off kilter. "Lack of powerful enemies and what else? Timing and cohesion of the Crowned response I should think?"

As her gaze drops, so too does his own (except that a portion of his attentions are reserved for those tails). There's a brief silence. "Do you have plans in place in case the invasion threatens your research resources?" he wonders. More than a portion of his attention is on her tails now.

    The vixen doens't miss that sharp gaze, and she merely nods back with somber mien. "Coffee truly is the most addictive drug in the world." She says, managing to deliver the line with seriousness.

    Then she promptly moves on to the rest of it. "Not a fake wave, no. But we do have evidence that there are other places on the end of the portal-rifts, and we've had 'Heroes' come through them before. If they can come through... then they could likely /keep/ things from coming through, as well, by dealing with them on their end before it hits ours." There's a shake of her head, and sigh. "But also, yes, I remember it being said that they were 'surprisingly prepared' for the short notice we had, and that they knew to blame us for the event happening."

    "... the archives have a rather secure door, and I have the only key to lock them away. It won't protect them entirely, but they should be safe is the rest of the building is burned down. Given that some of the invaders seem to value knowledge, though, I'm hoping the Athenaeum will survive - especially since it's technically a temple to the Beautiful One." She gestures to the statue between the staircases, and the chain motif in the stained glass. "Attacking a temple and defiling its sanctity as a haven is generally a bad idea. And I can just hope that my contacts in the Lander communities know to lay low."

"...." For a moment there's a flicker of pink tongue between lips as Robert, somewhere between amused and aghast, reverts to younger days and sticks his tongue out at Estelle. And for that brief moment his features relax, humor twinkling in his brown eyes. But those eyes regain their schooled thoughtfulness quickly enough as, with a sharp inhalation, they follow her gesture to the statue.

"And I suppose that, similarly, stealing a temple's books even for safekeeping is generally frowned upon," he concludes with a wistful sigh. "But it's a sorry state of affairs when one has to rely on the charity of a foe to keep knowledge safe." Beat. "The Baroness has been singing your praises. Are you thinking to take your research out into the field? Or will you be staying back?"

    There's a soft giggle at that brief moment of silliness, and a wink back at the man as he indulges in it. It lets her know she's scored a point, after all, even if they don't matter and aren't being counted.

    "It is a library. There are systems in place for borrowing and return - rare, for ancient monastaries, but the Beaufitul One is the Goddess of Bounty, of connections and communities." A finger flicks towards the 'ties that bind' - the chain imagery. "And so this temple shares its bounty of knowledge to the public, bound by a duty to educate and safeguard." There's a soft smile on her lips, the vixen turning to look over the result of her project - even if the entire Alliance threw their weight into making it happen. It's obviously one she believes in.

    "... And the Baroness is too kind. She's always seen the best of my talents, and tried to coax me into taking up a place within her lands." There's a shake of Estelle's head, though it's a fond one. "But I'll go where my research takes me. I'll probably need to head out to speak to Diviner Taisbeanadh. He's an elderly Lander, even if he's still spry."

"Is that what those are?" Robert wonders, eyeing up the statue. "I don't think I've ever thought of ties that bind as chains." A thoughtful silence, contemplative, assessing, during which his head tilts first to the one side then to the other, as though to consider the matter from multiple angles. "Though I suppose not inaccurate. I've certainly seen those who have been pulled into the abyss by the company they keep." A sidelong glance at Estelle. "Or hauled up to dizzying heights where they had no business being. But somehow I get the sense that your interpretation is a kinder one?"

His gaze shifts towards the statue once more. "The Baroness wouldn't evacuate Eas lightly. She'll be up to something, and I would think that whatever it is, it might benefit substantially from your input." A faint smile. "Research, or heart?"

    "'Duty is as heavy as a mountain.'" The vixen quotes, tails twirling behind her. "Scholars have debated for a long, long time about whether the Beautiful One's chains are a representation of how her love and duty bound her to the world, or the limitations and burden of her eternal, heavenly beauty. I like the former - the ties that bind her to the people are thick and sturdy, a metaphorical chain they can use to pull themselves higher in the world, yes. Unshakeable and hard to break."

    "And why not both? Learning is one of my passions, my seeking of it often aligns with the values of my heart." Her smile is warm, as she considers her work and where it's led her. "And if the Baroness seeks my input, she knows how to reach me - I'm always glad to help my friends and allies when I may."

"And yet where would there be meaning without that burden?" Robert counters. He leans back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head to continue his scrutiny of the statue. "And how can duty be chains, shackles, if that duty is undertaken willingly? Can anyone force you to do your duty? Or force a duty upon you? Not without your agreement, however much that agreement may be achieved through duress."

He rocks backwards, tentatively perching on two chair-legs for a brief moment before gently letting himself down once more. "As for heart, I suppose it might depend on what you mean by heart. Is it a moment of impulse? Diving after hedonism? Or something else?"

    "Many people have walked into chains openly, for a number of reasons." The vixen points out, wagging a finger. "An oath in metaphorical iron, made manifest. A burden taken on, that others may rise." Still, she turns to look the statue once more. "I think to know the truth of it, though, we'd have to ask. And while I have her gaze, I don't think I have her ear. Or her word. Perhaps in time..." Her tone is musing, before she shakes her head and looks back to her books.

    "In this case? The core of who I am. An inquisitive soul, a nurturing one, who seeks bonds with others. I seek secrets, I work on puzzles, and I do what I can to aid those I come across along the way." She spreads her hands, tails fanning behind her - presenting herself.

"Maybe we don't have enough chains yet to have her word," Robert comments, amused, tones straddling the fine line between flippant and playful. "And speaking of burdens. I do wonder how the Greek myth of Atlas fits in? It does seem to suggest an element of inescapable fate to one's burdens, does it not?"

Another rock backwards onto his chair legs, more precarious this time, another thunk as he recovers. There's a momentary grin, a flash of humor, a comment bitten back. "And what is Divination to you? Or, to be more precise, what are the stars to you?"

    "Different cultures view such things in different ways. Atlas is an interesting case, yes, though another can take on his burden - there's an entire tale based around such, is there not? Even if he's tricked back into it, in the end." Her hands fold in her lap again, ears flicking. Especially as the real question is asked, about her tie to the heavens.

    "... Hope." Her tone is actually somber, there, as her gaze lifts star-ward. Her tails are still, her posture... quiet. "The stars are a bright hope in the dark of the night. A guiding light in an uncertain world and future. A memory of days gone past, and a promise for what lies ahead."

"Yes, he always reassumes his burden in the end, even if he tries to avoid it. Which is interesting in its own way." Robert comments. He trails off, lips pursing. "I'm not sure I agree, mind. But the idea of an unavoidable burden tied to destiny is interesting. Perhaps it alludes to burdens undertaken unconsciously. Or intrinsic burdens. Poor health. Deficiencies of character. A bum leg."

He falls silent once more before studying Estelle curiously. No more chair-rocking. "An anchor, perhaps? A reminder of cosmic order regardless of what chaos may surround you? That ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken?" One eye squints. That's almost right, right?

    "Perhaps it does. That's not the tale I want to hear about, but." There's a shake of her head, as she considers that take on the old tale of Atlas - her gaze still fixed upward, uncaring of Robert's scrutiny.

    "Perhaps it is, for those reasons." She admits softly. The vixen's tails flick a little, not quite up to their prior levels of animation. "It's an old yearning, an ancient fascination. Especially with the stories tied up in them. The Argo." One hand lifts up, tracing the ship in its three parts. "The Hydra. Orion's Belt. The Corona Borealis. Legends immortalized in the heavens..."

"Apologies," Robert offers. He maintains his gaze for a few moments, then finally tears it away to turn it heavenwards. "The monster that serves dutifully. The much-loved hunter who excels, but is murdered. The..." Beat. "I have no clue about that last one, I'm afraid." His sidelong smile is wry, a trifle self-deprecating.

"Legends to explain the heavens, or legends so potent, so memorable in the thoughts of our ancestors that they are seen in a smattering of stars?" he continues at last. It's a rather stark contrast, she who reaches for the stars versus him who admires them in quiet contentment, hands tucked behind his head. "Do you yearn to be a legend, or to be a part of their reflected glory?"

    "It's part of the tale of Theseus, in tangent. The Crown of Ariadne, once abandoned by the princeling and later wed to Dionysus, placed in the heavens as a memento of their union. Or, perhaps, the garden Darzelis? Maybe Caer Arianrhod, the Castle of the Silver Circle?" One hand moves, as if spreading a hand of cards. "Because they are the second. Legends so potent that we can't help but echo them in the heavens, some of the groups spread across cultures. Echoes upon echoes." There's a shake of her head, and a sigh.

    She remains quiet on the other question, though. Staring upward, as the silence fills the air between them.

She starts the silence and he is reluctant to violate it, even if he sneaks the occasional glance in her direction. He nearly speaks--once, twice--and each time aborts at the last moment. At last he rises to his feet in near silence, the motion coupled with the creaking of his wooden chair, the faint rustling of clothing as he straightens. And he bows, the gesture both acknowledgement and thanks.

    If she notices the aborted attempts to speak, she doesn't comment. But her gaze finally turns down to the earth as Robert stands, silver eyes levelled at him once more. She bows her head in response to that deeper gesture, her ears flicking. And finally she breaks the silence; "May the stars watch over you Robert, in the days and nights to come. If I learn anything of use, I'll be sure to pass it along."

"And may they keep you safe and guide your path," Robert intones, almost ritualistically. More casually: "Please let me know if there is any way in which I can assist. Goodnight." And then he is off, his purposeful gait carrying him across the floor, down the stairs, and out the door.