Distant Solutions

It's a lovely morning; for all that the clouds cover most of the sky. But the scene peeks through, here and there, and the sea breeze sweeps up up with the scent of brine. The calls and jeers of sailors drifts over the distance, as ships are loaded and offloaded, as trips are prepared for and are begun.

It also finds a fox sitting outside the port town, though not too far off. She's seated on an (unfolded) folding chair, tails swishing behind her as she stares off over the waters, watching fishing vessels skim the sea as they ply their trade and give the larger vessels a wide berth. Her ears flick this way and that, as she waits for a... friend? to join her, a second chair readied beside her own.

Coming close, though, also reveals that's humming a soft melody, one finger swishing from side to side to keep time.

Crunch.

Jazz's arrival is typically quiet for her but for the soft sounds of her heels clicking on the stone ppavement that briongs her to Estelle's seat. Just behind her, now, but out of reach of the tails. She doesn't want to get murdered by them.

She doesn't say anything immediately. She simply expects that Estelle will realize that she's there.

Those foxy ears twitch and twist, at the sound of crunching stone - though the humming doesn't stop. It last a few, long moments as they both wait for the other... but Estelle gives a shake of her head, the melody fading, and motions to the free chair. "Good morning, Jazz. Take a seat? There's no cushion, yet, but it has to be more comfortable than standing there." She turns her head, offering a smile that she keeps from being too fangy.

"I found something you'd want to take a look at, by the way." A flick of her hand, and she produces a rusted, weather-worn telescope to offer over - ancient and badly damaged, but still a telescope. "Something to work from, for the project you suggested the other day. The Stars led me to it, as part of another path I sought."

"...oh, very nice," replies Jazz.

She reaches for the telescope to take it from Estelle, giving it a once over. "I don't know much about telescoping or the lenses, but ... interesting that they'd have oen, and that it would appear this ... well loved." She turns it over in her small hands, taking a moment to hold it up to an eye and peer down it. "Mmph," she replies. "Much like the astrolabe, then. Works long forgotten. I wonder..." Her voice is a faint whisper. It only makes her sound more anime.

"I wouldn't call it well-loved. I found it long-abandoned in a cave, next to some rough etchings about the Moons. That weathering isn't from use, but exposure." Her tails flick a little, as her silver eyes staring down at the implement riefly - then turn back to the horizon. "It was a miracle it lasted as long as it did, I think. Or that I found it while it was still somewhat usable. The Stars have their ways, though, and a Miracle is what I asked for - even if it wasn't quite the answer I sought."

"Maybe it will be the answer we /need/, though. Only time will tell." A beat, two. "How have your own projects been progressing?"

"I wasn't being serious about it being well loved," replies Jazz.

There is a lengthy pause from her as she considers it. "The design for the astrolabe was old, and now we have a working telescope to model from. Maybe we can get a better look at that red moon, hm?" She hands it back over towards her, then produces her own spyglass to offer it to her.

"Are they as identical as we thought?" She asks, curiously, presuming to trade with her.

"This /is/ the telescope I used to see what I saw... and let me clarify; I couldn't see the details of the lunar surface. The spyglass either was never up to such, or was too damaged by time. It was still positioned perfectly to see visible shifts in the lunar crust." The vixen's tone is serious, for the second part, even as she accepts the old telescope back to store in her inventory; the words imply a truly /massive/ shift, after all. "Still, someone might have the trick to better lenses and mirrors, now, and I remember the rough set-up for a catadioptric system."

But then Estelle is pulling out her own Monkey's Spyglass, and scooting her chair over with a crunch and scuff of the rock, so they can examine each others' copy, comparing and contrasting.

"Well, yes, but I presumed that there'd be more to find," muses Jazz, thoughtfully, her eyes cast down towards the spyglass. ""Do you remember where you got this?" She asks of her as she peers down at Estelle's version of it. Thoughtful, actually, and perhaps inspecting it.

Estelle shakes her head, at that. "I've been playing since launch, coasting along on happy memories of the original Elder Tale and taking the time to explore more and more." She spreads her hands, Spyglass clutched tight in one of them, before she brings it back in close to continue eying the two replicas. "I've picked up and shed more items than I can remember, in all the time since. A number of things held on to merely because I liked the flavor text, and the mysteries it provided - always waiting for another item or quest that would solve it, or provide another clue." Her fingers brush along the item's casing, a soft smile on her lips.

"Chasing secrets has always been a joy, even if the Stars will ever be first in my heart."

"I never played," admits Jazz.

"I mean, I played a lot of computer RPGs, Ultima, all those good things, but I never played ETO when I was in America," she admits, "It was my first night in the game, actually. Benji set this character up for me." She looks down at it, opening up a little to Estelle in the moment. "I know games like this have plenty of duplicate items, though." She taps Estelle's spyglass against her own in momentaery thought.

The vixen's tails flick, at the tapping of spyglasses, as if waiting for something to happen - but she only waits a moment before nodding, lightly. No temporal collapse or paradox, good. "Ah. You've been thrown into the deep end, then. My condolences for... all of this. Still, it isn't too much of an advantage. The Apocalypse changed everything, and even us loreseekers are finding ourselves lost. So much matters now that didn't before, and so much has been added or altered."

Estelle shakes her head, and settles the spyglass in her lap. "But, yes. Things that should be Legendary that aren't are a staple of things, for games like this was. I'm not sure how much of it we'll be seeing going forward. I have my doubts it will continue, for the truly momentous things, even if it does for the smaller ones."

"...deep end. Undine pun. Ha. Ha. Ha."

Jazz gives Estelle a faux flat look at that, tentacle tips twitching here for a moment. She takes her spyglass back and leaves Estelle her own.

"Still, you looked into the Monkey sooner than I did. I just assumed it was flavor text and didn't really dwell on it. They're not *exactly* identical, though. You see there? Maybe just damaged from before they wound up in our possession." She squints down at the one in her hands for a moment.

"Do you think so?" she asks, of it 'continuing'.

"Wordplay is a fine yamato tradition," the vixen comments, at that faux flat look. But a silver eye winks at Jazz, even as she nods at the minor details. "Or after. I've been using mine since the Apocalypse. Much better than my eyes for scoping most things out." She stows her spyglass, now that the examination seems mostly finished. "And it was a distraction, really. Something to pull myself out of the darkness and back into the light."

"But, yes, I think we'll see more in the days to come. A Festival is coming up, and I have no ideas what it will bring now. Some systems are breaking down, and leading into more changes... and now we have the Travelers, and their works." One hand sweeps wide. "There's so much more to the world now, and it's so much more alive. We're only beginning to climb the mountain."

Jazz's own almost lambent eyes blink right back at her slowly. There's a slight loss of focus, however, as her mind wanders.

When she mentions a festival there's just a quiet 'ah'.

"I can see I'll be spending more time on Tsushima," she mutters.

"I don't grasp the Travelers just yet. I haven't seen them myself, though." She shakes her head, tentacles flicking with the motion.

"I'm hoping to catch one of them again soon. There are plans to explore beneath Alne and Aincrad in the works, and I'm going to see if I can tag along with them. Perhaps find some answers." Her eyes narrow, tails flicking more energetically. "Even if they're not keen on answering them, it'll just mean we have to find them for ourselves."

"And I think I'll drop by Tsushima more often, if you'll have me." There's a soft, thoughtful noise. "I wonder if Spatjahr would be open to someone sitting near the entrance, just... talking while she charges? I have all sorts of stories rattling around in my head, and if she's even somewhat aware, it might be nice..."

"I don't think she'd mind. She probably has a limited state of awareness to be able to detect impending threats," suggests Jazz, "That's one of the reasons I've remained there. Well, that and to make sure no one zips in and tries to hijack her off to fight on Aincrad."

No, Jazz isn't bitter about someone trying that. She shakes her head, slowly, long purple locks of hair wafting in the gentle breeze.

"I suppose we'll all have a few more stories by the time we're done."

"I imagine anyone who tries is in for a world of hurt," her voice is a touch distant, recalling the feeling of having that canon pointed at her even in jest - and the very real intent it was aimed at Merek with. She shakes it off after a moment, starry tails uncurling from beneath her. She does reach out to pat Jazz's shoulder at that bitter tone, though. "But she has some watching out for her, those of us who consider her a person."

"And I've already got more stories as it is. There's something very... visceral, about fighting and investigating now that it feels real. Without the ability to flee to the real world, and the unknowns of death here in the changed one." She gives a sigh, settling in a bit more.

"For now," answers Jazz.

"But given how badly damaged Spatjahr is and the inventiveness of players, I ... have concerns."

She lets that hang for a moment, thoughtful, eyes cast down for a moment.

"I try to make sure I treat everyone as a person," she agrees. "Who knows what the rules are, anyway?" She shrugs her shoulders, briefly growing distant in thought.

"Mmm... I'm wondering how effective, if at all, magic would be. And if repairs would fall under Light, since HP is an abstract, or Earth, as an actual physical manipulation of earth and metal?" Those tails swish lazily back and forth, as she considers the implications of that, and then shakes it off. "Something to experiment with, perhaps. I'll add it to the list, once I'm done aiding Giganpor with experiments on infusing metal with elemental power."

She gives a stretch, for a moment, arms above her head and joints popping. "And no one does. Things are changed, and still changing. The world is in flux. It's best to treat everyone as a person, regardless. Trying to be polite can barely hurt, at first brush."

"I seem to recall her saying we needed machina pieces of a certain sort, last time," muses Jazz.

"Perhaps that could be a start, though," she says, speakiing of the effort to infuse metal.

"Everyone's doing interest things while I turn over rocks," she adds with a pensive look on her face. "Look at you, finding out the moon is 'broken'."

"A miracle, made possible by the stars." Estelle admits, shaking her head with a sigh. "And not even what I intended to do; I sought secrets of their conceptual weight and links. Japan viewed the Moon as a bringing of beauty and order, taken too far. Something to be admired from afar, but rarely petitioned." One hand rises, pale fingers pointing towards where the moons will rise. "But I know nothing of these two, beyond that the Red is Broken."

The hand falls back into her lap, and she looks back to her conversational partner. "And you've found a few things turning over rocks yourself. Tsushima, for instance, and Spatjahr upon it. The astrolabe. Don't despair, my friend, just because things have slowed; you've been working to befriend our Machina of Hope, and many of my advances in studying the Spyglass have come from meeting her."

"By the design of the stars, perhaps," says Jazz. She holds up her spyglass to one eye, looking at Estelle. Then she lowers it, her amber eyes blink once, uncomprehending and slow. She raises it back up afterwards. Then she stands up, and backs away from Estelle slowly. Looks at her again through the glass.

"... why can't it see you?"

"It's part of the Spyglass' effect. It sees terrain clearly, in a way that merely its construction wouldn't allow." Her hands gesture wide, at the world around them. "But if you turn towards the city," one hand falls, and the other makes a more pointed gesture, "it will only see a ghost town. It ignores creatures, and focuses on the world itself. Try it and see, it's not just me." There's a wink at the rhyme.

She can be patient, after all, and her smile is soft and understanding. "It's given some I talked to it about existential crises, though - wondering about the truth of creatures here, and such things. But we can grasp hands, converse, present ideas that wouldn't occur to each other..."

"Huh," says Jazz.
She loses the spyglass down her nose at it, then tucks it into her belt. "I never noticed," she tells Estelle. "Your's does it too, then?" She shrugs her shoulder after a moment, the long tentacles on the sides of her head raising questioning. There's a pair before she agrees.

"That doesn't surprise me to hear. There have been existential crises as long as there has been people to have them. We're more akin to ancient man in this situation, all a flutter with ideas and roaming possibilities."

"It does," the fox agrees, nodding, with a little flick of one hand. "I've gotten used to it. It's really quite nice - it means flying animals don't disturb any stargazing I do through it. Storm season is going to be rough enough as it is." There's a shake of her head, and a sigh. "All that rain, and the clouds. I'm going to have to cast lots for most of it..." Her shoulders slump a little.

"... oh well. It will pass, in time."

"Who knows what sort of storms we'll get? Or tsunamis for that matter? The leviathins are bad enough, but nature is still going to be a challenge, and it isn't like we know what to expect."

Jazz pinches the bridge of her nose. "As exciting as that might be for *some*," she grimaces. Even her grimaces are twee, anime things that somehow manage to continue her trend of adorability.

"Excpect to need a parasol, if you don't mind getting wet," the vixen offers, knowing that much at least. "I might have to look into getting a staff made in that style - it should be possible, I think..." Her tone is thoughtful, for a moment, before she shakes it off. Her tails curl and ears flick, at how adorable that frustrated look is, but Estelle makes no comment. Not at all.

"But, no, things could very well change. Who knows how holiday events will turn these days, with everything else so... mutable?" There's a grimace of her own that bares her small fangs. "We can only hope for the best, prepare for the worst, and see how the lots fall in the end."

"Or loots, perhaps," remarks Jazz, dryly.

"Despite the underwater race i'm playing, I don't actually like the ocean that much." She stares out onto in the direction of the sea for a time, then she shakes her head.

It *is* a port town, after all. Not liking the sea seems an odd choice for an Undine Sea-Witch, though.

It is, but said Sea Witch has implied that someone else set things up for her; the vixen assumes that's tied into it. "Ah. Trapped by thematics, then. As you've no doubt realized, I fully embrace my own." There's a wink of one silver eye, before she reaches over to pat Jazz's shoulder. "But, yes. You'll probably want a parasol or umbrella of some kind, then. It gives us time to make the telescope, at least, since it won't be too effective during the coming time of year..."

"... though, er, do you know anyone who's good with glass? We're going to need fine lenses and mirrors."

"I've noticed," replies Jazz to Estelle. She eyes the hand that has patted her with a curious expression, but she doesn't say anythjing. Instead, wshe turns her gaze back to the sea. "I suppose. I wonder if umbrellas actually exist here. Or, well, maybe we'll have to fashion the first. With glass? Hmm..." A pause. "No, not for certain. I don't think it's actually all that commonn, though I did fight some Glass Elementals in the Westlands. That might be the best place to start your hunt, in the deserts." She looks down at her boots. "I got someone in my foot." She shakes her dainty boot.

"Umbrellas are ancient. BC ancient." The Fact Fox provides, wiggling the fingers of one hand. "I would be terribly surprised if they don't exist around here, somewhere, given that there were some amongst the Terracotta Army. Generally silks and such - I can't remember when oiled and lacquered paper moved into use." Her tone is thoughtful, at the end, her tail flicking behind her.

"... but, yes. Glass. I'll look into that, then, and see if anyone has the techniques to polish it properly. The lenses will need experimentation, though, to get the proper convex and concave shapes." She wiggles her nose, ears pulling flat as she considers how long it could take to get that aspect of things down. "The wood or brass body is going to be easy, in comparison."

"We know brass exists," agrees Jazz, patting her astrolabe. "It's not a matter of what existed, though, but rather what translated. I'm simply advocating to presume nothing about what holes there might be." She wrinkles her nose.

"Yes, though. The lenses will be difficult. We don't even have a good placce to start with that. I'm not even sure glass blowing is properly a thing either."

"... fair, on translation. But I suspect they're going to be around." Pale fingers wave back and forth. "I didn't pay attention to all the old event items, but they might have shown up there from time to time. I'll ask around... and they can't be too hard to make anew, if not. The mechanisms are rather simple."

"But, I do know that glassblowing is a thing for sure." The vixen plucks something from the air (or, rather, her inventory); a potion in a glass bottle. She gives it a swish, the red fluid swirling around. "Potion bottles. Oil lanterns. Both of those certainly involve glassblowing techniques."

"On the other hand, that might just be the work of the crafting menu, rather than conscious creation," points out Jazz.

"To be honest, I don't have a full grasp on how the shops here fill. Then again, who does?" She looks wry about it. "None of this makes sense, anyway, try as I might to figure out waht I can." She studies teh bottle for a moment, then shrugs her shoulders before letting her gaze go back up to the sky in thought, her expression a pensive mask.

"It's been over half a year and I keep expecting it'll just end abruptly."

"Perhaps, but I prefer to have hope." The bottle vanishes back into her inventory, and turns her gaze fully to Jazz - those silver eyes piercing, as she considers the other woman. "It took me awhile to find it again, I'll admit, after we were all trapped here. But I've found my strength again, and so I stride forward. The people I care about would never want me to give up, to give in to despair. And so I hold on to that, and my hopes and dreams, and follow them like I would Polaris to find my way home."

Estelle offers her hands towards the undine, palms up. "All I can do is offer what support you might need; a supportive shoulder, or a non-judgmental ear. You'll need to find your own star to follow, your own path to walk, but if I can ease it a portion of it, merely ask."

"I appreciate your kindness, Estelle," muses Jazz after a moment. "I manage all right." She turns her gaze back on her, her own lambent eyes focused on the silver ones for a time. "It's not about hope, though. It's about the ... un-reality. But some things Spatjahr said keeps coming back to me, and it makes me wonder how much more is really going on, and what they don't know." Her eyes drop down towards the pink bows on her boots.

"I should find Uta soon. She has some things I need to awsk her about, when I can tear her focus away from the slimes long enough." Wry tone there. "Thank you, though."

"I think it's more than slimes these days, too, from some of Merek's murmurings. Uta was looking into the Chims, remember?" The vixen points out, lightly. But she pulls her hands back when the offer is ignored, folding them in her lap.

"And that is fair, too, on hope versus unreality. Spatjahr did us... much to think of, even as I chase some of it down. There are so many secrets forged anew, in the Apocalypse..." And she doesn't sound too broken up about that aspect of things, at least. "I'm hoping one of the Travellers shows up in Alne again, so I can try and get more answers." There's a shake of her head, and a fitful motion of her tails.

"I haven't had the chance to meet them myself," adds Jazz, quietly, "Unlikely I'll run into them." She shakes her head. "I always seem too far out when the waves hit, amongst other things. And yeah, about those chims. I need to ask her more about them. There's ahope that they might be able to help Spatjahr somehow, keep us in her good graces."

"Alne is the 'Travellers' City'. I suspect that merely exploring its secrets might give us a means to talk to them." Her ears arw flat, though. "If they won't keep brushing off our questions, anyway." There's even a soft growl, before she pushes it down.

"But. That's another thing for you to talk to Uta about, then. The Chims. She probably has the best grasp for talking to them properly, unless you want to go through Merek instead." There's a quirk of her lips, remembering some of his comments on his... encounter with them.

"I've little interest in talking to Elric," replies Jazz, her tone and affect flat. "I'm sure he means well but the guy has about as much sense as a man left in one of those deprivation tanks for too long. I only hope he can steer clear of doing anything truly damaging." She takes a moment to remove her hat, allowing her hair to stream freely a moment, lifted gently by the wind as she brushes off the hat and placed it back on her head. it's backwards but she does not seem to care.

"I'll see Uta soon."