Flowers for foxes

The day is unseasonably warm. During a time of the year when summer's brilliance has faded into autumn's tired glow, and the air has long-since taken on a distinct nip, the resurgence of heat is both unexpected and welcome. And the local area seems reflects this. Whether due to a -very- confused set of flowers, or perhaps some wayward druid's attentions, the field is a sea of breeze-rippled whites, purples, and pinks.

Robert has taken advantage of the respite to get out of town. Never one to enjoy lingering in crowded areas, he has staked out a spot for himself atop a sun-baked granite outcropping, book in hand. Not that he's paying -particular- attention to the book, glancing up at the scenery far too often for one focusing on work.

It hadn't been long since Lunaris had started even visiting the towns and villages of ETO mostly having been a wilderness wanderer, and yet at times they were already wearing on her. She hadn't ever been one accustomed to the hustle and bustle, and with a couple of life changing moments thrown in, could anyone blame her for wanting to clear her head? So like those days of old the Cait Sithe was simply wandering with no aim nor reason, past perhaps finding an adorable monster to try and befriend and tame.. As much as one could do either with a monster.

It's on this walk that she and her little fox companion spot the relaxing adventurer and his lingering attempts to read a book. A flash of recognition and that's all she needs, first tossing something with an oddly shiny glow to the waves, and then bounding up (not very quietly) and waving over to them with a huge grin, "Hey! I never got to say hi last we saw each other! Busy having my mind blown and stuff! Oooh, what are you reading?" The words tumbling out of her like someone who has had far too much coffee.. Despite such not really being accessible at the moment. Eventually pulling herself up short before adding, "Oh! I'm Lunaris!"

Mercifully, either Robert is someone who isn't prone to startling, or he'd somehow detected Lunaris's approach. In truth, judging by the upwards arching of his eyebrows, whatever his expectations may have been they did not take into account the sudden flood of a verbal greeting.

He glances up, one hand lifting to shade his eyes against the overhead sun, before rising to his feet. "Robert," he answers, his tones a bit on the distant side. While his manner (aside from the surprise) attempts to convey an easy confidence, there's a faint twitch to his lips, a brief furrow of his brow that suggests his inner thoughts are more likely along the lines of 'dang nabbit, where'd I meet her before?'. The book is presented to her.

It is a children's book, in point of fact, titled 'how things work'. Oh well. So much for great literature.

"Just.. Robert..?" Lunaris asks with a tilt of her head, with a face like she may well have just ran full force at an uncompromising brick wall. It wasn't that she had any issues with shorter names, but it was shockingly.. Startlingly unusual. "Not like Robert of the Three Suns? Or Robertnic? Or Robert Stamper of Demons?" She pokes curiously, darting around the otherwise far more languid man, her tail flicking around as she practically investigates him, "Even I got told to be Lunaris of the Pale Moon. They even bribed me with flowers for it. I have no idea why, but they were pretty. Why in a sewer, I have no idea!"

The rambling doesn't really appear to abate with her, she was just rather excitable by all outlooks, though as her now conversation partner hesitates she pauses for just a moment, and lets out a rather thoughtful hum, calling a ball of seawater to her to toss like any normal baseball in the palm of her hand. "Oh! At the cafe! You know the one. Was super busy, so didn't have much to.." Pausing as she looks over the book and cocks her head to the side, "Oooh, what you trying to figure out?"

"I am trying to figure out how things work," Robert answers, playfully danging the book between two fingers before tossing it away. It lands (almost) perfectly, with a minimum of fuss. Well, a minimum of fuss for everyone except the poor weeds underneath that soften its landing. Regardless, it is not perhaps the most informative of replies, but the book is now noticeably out of imminent reach of her ball of seawater.

"Just Robert, I'm afraid," he informs her with a somber, regretful sort of dignity, betrayed only by the faintest twitch of his lips. "Nothing so grand as The Robertnic, nor as mystical as Robert of the Three Suns. And I usually let others do the demon-stamping. I suppose one might say that I am, as yet, un-named." He pauses, head canting curiously to the side. "But I think you've lost me. Who is they? What sort of flowers? Do they usually hang out in the sewer?"

"Figure out what exactly? This world? The three others? The Gods? Or just water physics?" Lunaris asks chipperly, now focused on splitting her ball into three separate orbs, all rotating in time with the others. Or that's the attempt, in reality it is far too difficult and sometimes one moves out of turn. Practice at the heart of her actions. "Got plenty of things to work out. This world is full of them anyway. And strange exceptions! Oh.. Um.. Nah to be honest I've been preoccupied by the Palace lot," a bit of a grump as she tosses the water balls behind her and back to the sea with perfect aim.. Or just cheating with magic.

"Oh! You should totally get one, you just make them up and then people learn to believe it! Robert the.. Uhm.." She taps her cheek thoughtfully, pondering over it for a while as she looks over her compatriot, "Robert the.. Dawnsprite! See? It's easy, just call yourself that and it'll become true soon enough." At the question about the person she just blinks, looking rather lost as to the conversation, "They? Who's that? Oh! Flower guy! Nah, it was on a duty quest thing. Not met them again since! They had a bunny in a hat.. Hatbun!"

"The world," Robert confirms, looking increasingly off-balance with the whole pace of the conversation. "Which I'm aware sounds...well, utterly stupid if I am to be honest. I mean, figuring out the world, right? But I dunno. I sort of have this dim sense that there's underlying principles far simpler than one would normally encounter." In a real world, is presumably his meaning, though he certainly doesn't say as such. Instead he simply lapses into silence, eyes tracing the arc of her water-ball until it vanishes into the sea beyond. He nods once, lips twisting in a 'wouldja look at that' sort of mild appreciation.

"That'd probably be Shenmi and Bao, I should think," he decides after a few more moments. "Though just -why- he's telling you that you need to be associated with the moon, pale or otherwise, is not something I understand." A brief pause, a brief contemplation. "If anything you look a bit more rust-colored. Like leaves in autumn, perhaps." Another pause. "Or chili powder mixed with cinammon." One last pause. "Though I'm not sure that works out as well. Lunaris of the Mixed Spices doesn't have quite the same distinction, does it. And no. I am absolutely not going to be a dawnsprite. Do I -look- like a dawnsprite?" He flutters his midnight-black wings meaningfully. Without, thankfully, shaking his booty.

"The world! ..Which bit though? There's four servers and that weird layer that looked like home and then there's probably all sorts of other weird bits that I really don't have much knowledge of. Like what was that about the tower and everything? The Alvs? Were they even landers? Which landers do we know were once adventurers? Have you ever thought that Gilgamesh seems a bit odd? And which monster is the most pettable? All important questions you are quite right Robert!" Lunaris runs off, finally pausing to take a breath and nodding at her companions ingenious mindset for thinking of all those points listed as she paces around the place where he is sat. "And principles, yes! Why are some things like earth and non-gamelike when other things are? Like the barrier for stopping you going further into a dungeon before you're the right level? And yet something like Crowns exist? Which despite what Golden says, really aren't something gamelike! What game allows adventurer's to be possessed? They're a greedy thing.. Not a gameplay thing."

Another deep breath as her fox, Pecan, runs around yipping excitably at his master's rather random ranting and raving, just happy to be included in things. Then the Cait Sithe sways, wobbling and maybe just a bit lightheaded after that. It takes a moment before she can manage to speak again, "Sh-shen-i.. That was i-it.." Nodding once, exhale, another nod. "Not Mixed Spice! Pale Moon! Because m-oon reasons.. Who knows? The moon is meant to represent mercurialness, right..?" A shrug, a thud as she plops down to the floor to recover, then waves at his wings in response, "Well you can't very well be Dusksprite, can you?! That's far too edgy."

Confusion mounts. And then enlightenment dawns. Closing his eyes, Robert basks in the wash of information. It's really very zen. Duck-in-river. Lizard-on-a-rock. "-Yes-," is response to that as she finally stops for breath. He stabs a finger in her general direction. "All that. But more on the generalizable side rather than the specific side. Less on lore and history, more on the absolutely most-basic fundamentals. Now, how do I figure that out, you might ask? I don't!" He throws up his hands, flapping them in mock, hysterical exasperation before allowing them to rest by his side. "I haven't the faintest. Not a clue. May as well be reading, well, -that-," he sweeps his accusing finger out to indicate the book he's left behind, "as any of the great treatises. Where do I start? No idea. What's important?" An exaggerated shrug.

And then on to the very specifics he'd said he wasn't quite so preoccupied with. "Are you mercurial, then?" he wonders. "And what's wrong with Dusksprite? Or being ed...dramatic?" He looks a bit offended, though whether it is genuine or affected is up for interpretation. "Well, I suppose Dusksprite -does- sound a bit dumb, doesn't he," he continues, upon further reflection.

Lunaris breathes in, as if to go on a new ramble from her now more relaxed position, clearly something for balance, before Pecan interrupts her and snuggles into the open lap for fusses. She gives a giggle at the exasperation and shakes her head, "It sounds like you're being too general Starsprite... Astralsprite? There's something there! I'm telling you!" Blink. She realises she has gone off topic and promptly returns to her point, "Too general. You're trying to figure out everything at once. That's like trying to answer all my questions at once and then some! How is any person going to manage that in a single breath?" Letting that sink in for a moment before replying, "What's important is simple. What is it that you need? Like anything! This place is a whole world, not a single thing. Too much choice if you try and just get 'what's important'. It varies too much!"

With that she switches to the lighter topic with a laugh, "Who knows? Would I tell you if I were? Sometimes. Probably." Her tail swishes with far too much enthusiasm, eyes twinkling in the rather pleasant light, "And come on! Naming yourself something edgy is like calling yourself 'leetslayerninetynine'. But if you want to play on your wings, there's a whole universe out there, full of naming inspiration. Least when it's dark. Cosmo seems taken already though. Least in regards to circles," she continues, gesturing up towards the sky.

"Games have rules," Robert opines, his now-relaxed manner positively sloth-like next to her caffeinated persona. "And usually not a lot of them. There's often many details -around- those rules, but. Life? Is different, a bit. But even there I think it really is about finding out the general rules which account for maybe seventy, eighty percent of how things, and people, function in general. Which isn't to say that the solution is always simple and elegant. But there are useful approximations. Perhaps a concrete example. If you were to run into an event here, how would you know whether it is fair, according to game mechanics? Or working as intended, rather than a bug?"

Pacing off to the side, he installs himself back upon his rock. Insta butt-warmer, most excellent. "Perhaps 'leetslayerninetynine' is not the best example, though," he opines, lifting his hand and, with a dramatic fluorish, indicating his player-tag. "Though I suppose you may have just been polite."

"Does the 'real world' always play fair? You are in line for a promotion, you're the best at it.. But your boss chooses you, then adds in that you must move thousands of miles away for that promotion because they want rid of you. Is that fair?" Lunaris asks, flopping back into the grass with a rather contented sigh, peering up at the trees, "Why would here be any different? People die, scheme, one up each other. Again. The crowns. The Old World would kill to have them. Isn't that proof enough that this isn't quite the game we all thought it once was?" A mauve smile, not one that's quite as happy as the energy she's projecting. "I think fair isn't on ETO's mind. Not at all. You're looking for a ghost there!"

The Cait Sithe flashes a too toothy grin at the flourish and nods, "It's better than some of the ones I've seen. Poor souls. No chance to change their name from 'fruitybuttloop' and 'my-mum-is-an-orangatan'. Truly, a poor existence. Never to be taken seriously ever again!" A giggle is soon covered by her hand, then a musing look crosses her face, "The gods exist in this world.. Wonder if they can change a name? I wouldn't put it passed them."

"I suppose it would depend on what you mean by fair," Robert opines, eyeing Lunaris more thoughtfully now from his perch. "One might argue, for example, that simply being the best for a job is not enough, and that the fault lies in the failure to anticipate your boss's plans. They did, after all, still occur according to a rule-set, consistent with however he may have perceived his interests."

He draws his legs to his chest, then, wrapping his leg about his shins and perching his chin atop his knees. "People always have and always will do horrible things to each other, for fair reasons or foul," he comments. "And while individual events may come as a surprise, they are still...within the bounds, so to speak. How many betrayals have their been over the millenia? How much blindness? Ignoring what is in front of one's face for self interest? Positively traditional. So while it may not be -nice-, I think it is at least consistent. Or, cosmically speaking, fair. Not like a damage layer suddenly not being there. Or something nearby simply snapping out of existance."

A look that's just a touch too sour crosses Lunaris' face at the boss analogy, only to be blinked away a moment later, just the smallest flicker of a moment before she's excitable once again. "Point is.. This world is just the same. There's not some defined logic. Happenstance rather. How could there really be 'fair' when you might go to fight a boss, only to find it already weakened by Landers and you take it down in one fell swoop. No event, just something that happens. A game this place isn't."

An almost somberness to her as she listens to the rest of the conversation and she waves her hand in the air, a flicker a fire bursting into her hand, "You're missing the point with that one," she replies, head turning to peer at Robert with a wan smile, "-We- always did that. It's something that littered our history. But take a moment to sit back and consider this - What are Landers if they embrace the one thing that's always been pretty unique to us?" A shake of her head, then a bite of her lip as she sits back up, pulling her legs close, "Because.. They aren't NPC's. So.. What are they? We.. We know we become them if we die enough.. Doesn't that say enough?"

"Logic, no," Robert concedes quietly, his gaze interrupted only exceedingly rare by only the most necessary of blinks. "Patterns and Laws, yes. In your example, the boss has an hp-bar. You know that when you deplete the hp-bar, the boss is defeated. You know that as long as the hp-bar exists, the boss is not. Exactly how the bar is drained does not particularly matter. Perhaps I hit it once for a single, but critical, point of damage. Perhaps I did all the damage myself." His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "One way is more -pleasant- than another, to be sure. But the overarching rules, the Laws, are still being followed, no? To be clear, none of this is about assigning fault or blame. That is a moral judgement, and one which I don't think I have any business opining on, unbidden."

The smile he offers is a touch self-deprecating, almost apologetic. "I'm afraid I do not entirely understand what you are saying. Is the argument being made that there is an equivalency between us and Landers who acquire human-like characteristics? Or between Landers and us, if we've had too much removed through excessive death?"

"Same patterns and laws as everywhere, ruled by happenstance, lets try this then!" Lunaris pauses with a grin, flicking one finger up in the air as she works on getting her jovial mood back. "Do you put it past this game for us to be able to circumvent that? We work on some enchanting.. Or hacking project to make that false? For Landers to create a ritual that would keep the boss alive despite it's healthbar hitting zero?" A snort raises from her, hand clamping together to extinguish that flame with a fizz of smoke. "It's a full world. Anything can be changed or circumvented. It doesn't differ that way. You'd be better thinking of this as just another world, a full one.. And then figuring out whatever your aim is."

The question gets a shift of her shoulders, maybe she's forgotten her own point, either way her answers certainly are much lower energy now. Not surprising, there's a seriousness to her words at this point, "I've been told if we die enough we become Landers. Forgetting what we knew. Apparently a friend of mine has seen it happen in the Palace Lands. So if some Landers were adventurers.. That's.. I mean I've never treated them any differently anyway, but.." That sentence doesn't get finished, her eyes just staring ahead at the horizon, thinking.

"A world in which -everything- can potentially be altered? In which there are no real constants?" Robert inquires, eyebrows sliding up even more, though a smile does play across his lips. "What a terrifying world you have proposed, Miss Lunaris of the Pale Moon." Yes, there is...an element of mockery. But it is a good-natured teasing, without any real cruelty. A laugh to paper over something deeper and considerably more unsettling. He shifts, sighs, and lies back down on his rock, casually draping a sleeved forearm to shade his eyes from the overhead sun.

"Do you know, I had a similar thought once that news first came out? What if all Landers are former Adventurers who have simply died enough? You will be, I think, -very- relieved to know that this doesn't seem to be the case. While we do lose our memories, and our icons change if we should die enough, certain functionalities remain that are exclusive to Adventurers. Chimlinks, for example. The ability to formally join an adventuring party. Never fear, we are -not- surrounded by the ghosts of adventurers past."

"Fly." Lunaris replies rather casually as she eyes Robert with a rather critical eye at the reply, "There are your rules. Like they were in the Old World as this place calls it. Until some.. Brothers weren't they? Did the impossible. Abused the system, flew. Did you know, a couple of weeks before that, an article came out decrying flight as an impossibility that would take centuries to crack?" Her arms fold over her knees, a comfortable position for a serious conversation. "We break rules now just like we did then. It's just the starting point is different. We learn again from the ground up. And find which rules can be bent.. Monsters are unthinking killing machines, but with a nudge and some mana we can pretend they are tame.. For a few moments at least."

There is definitely some relief at that confirmation, but not as much as there probably should be, her eyes flickering as new ideas are connected. Full all the bluster of earlier, she certainly thinks a lot. "Then here's a question. Which is the leader of the Palace Lander army.. We know they're a lander. But are they an actual lander who got tired of adventurer's treating them as less than human.. Or are they a Ghost?" Her green eyes flickering back at that, chewing her lip, "And tell me.. Which is Gilgamesh?" It's then a moment of consideration crosses her face and her attention moves back to the sea, "I think there's more to that process. For the first thing, why does it happen? Are we becoming more connected to this world.. Or less?"

"That was sheer arrogance, though," Robert objects, tilting his head to the side to regard her. "There are always people who say something -can't- be done. But the rules did not change. Physics remained constant, even if the field of physics may have moved. Gravity didn't change. Fluid flow didn't change. It was our imperfect understanding that changed, not the rules themselves." His smile brightens then, almost to a grin. "You might argue that we've run into the same thing here, yes? And perhaps ask whether there is a practical difference between what the rules are and what we think they are? Or, to be more precise, how we can detect the difference between the two? That's the rub exactly, isn't it. And what needs to be found out. And is why I'm stuck reading kiddie pop-up books because I'm out of ideas." He winks, once, before turning his gaze skywards once more.

"I suppose it is hard to say," he acknowledges, "whether they started out as Adventurers or no. Or even whether all Adventurers are the same, in a formal sense. We've heard of previous waves of Adventurers, but the similarities -may- have only been superficial, yes? We have good reason to believe both Gilgamesh and the Palace Leadership predated our arrival, for what that's worth. It certainly strongly suggests they aren't Adventurers, but I suppose the only way to tell would be to try chimlinking them. Or party inviting." A pause, solemn and contemplative. "What do you mean by connected to this world?"

"Yep! You guessed my point," Lunaris replies with a rather wide smile, it wasn't often she got the chance to nerd out, and despite her overexcitableness was always quite partial to it. Especially on the correct topics. "Easy. Forget what worked in the Old World. That'll weigh you down here, because you'll assume things, and.. That's a terrible thing to do when you don't know the rules. Imagine assuming the rules of drafts and poker would have some similarities? Only going to weigh you down, right?" She nods, mostly to herself and waves a hand, calling a stone to the palm of her hand. A particularly rounded one. "You got to accept this world is just different. Start from there. The similarities will probably only trick you. Would electricity work the same? What if it's attracted to magic. Goddess, what if it can carry an element like we do? It's too much to be discovered in one go. Can you even tell me you know what our bodies are?"

The Cait Sithe laughs, amused and loud as she gives her skin a poke, "We could be golems for all I know. Still about Gil, perhaps they aren't adventurers, but.. Going back to our golem example, they could be built differently, without a chimlink. It gets very confusing! I honestly don't even know where to start either. We know nothing," she sighs, and pushes to her feet, dusting off the leather armour she is clad in. "Okay, connection. Lets assume we have our old body somewhere in the old world. Aren't you kind of moving this body like a puppet? What if with each death it becomes less puppet as your consciousness slips over. Like.. Your memories of the Old World would be stored in your physical body and not this one.. Right?" She looks quite lost herself, fingers twitching in example, then sighs and smiles, "I don't know. Ain't even a hypothesis! Just, a part of me wants a reason for all this. Anyway, I should be off before it gets dark!"

"There's a -devil- of a lot of similarities, which would mean a devil of a lot of trickiness," Robert counters as, after a languid stretch, he rises to his feet and begins smacking himself rather enthusiastically here and there. Presumably he's knocking off bits of sand, flowers, and vegetation as opposed to being a sado-masochist. "But you may be right. At minimum, I shouldn't start by assuming that the similarities are genuine. Come, I will walk you back, if that is acceptable," he offers with a jerk of his head in the general direction of civilization. He bends over, picks up his book, and tucks it under his arm.

Not that he particularly waits for her to say yes or no, instead strolling off at an easy pace. "I've also been wondering about what the memory loss means. Is it purely here, which suggests your connection hypothesis? Or is it in both domains? Perhaps the trauma of a death is something the human psyche does not handle well? Or is the game more insidiously steadily eroding our bodies and minds, back home? Regardless, you -will- I think be interested in knowing that it -is- possible for you to bleed here. And I don't mean bleed as in the DoT."