Prayer meeting

People come. People go. Few linger in this church that seems dedicated to no-one. No priests, no services. Thus it is that the single black-winged figure, seated in reverse on a chair in the center of the chamber, is something of an aberration. His arms are wrapped around the chair-back, his chin propped up by its apex, his figure faintly lit by the reddening rays of the evening sun. If this were a church in the real-world, he might be staring at the altar. But it's not, so he's just staring off into space, his expression one of introspection. Or perhaps boredom. A closer inspection might reveal the residual black film of a curse debuff, which is taking its sweet time to vanish.

Schneider enters the church with a confident stride and a purposeful step, it seems he has business here. He pauses, though, at seeing someone here. And a player, at that. Landers sometimes turn up at odd locations, but they don't respawn. Players do, but ... "Are you respawning?" he asks SpritesHero curiously. "I've never actually seen the process," he explains. He'll do an EXAMINE, just in case there's any weird status indicators. But, just the curses. "Are you OK?" he wonders.

"Custom debuff...curse variant?" Sprites hazards, tipping his gaze up towards Schneider. His hand lifts, one finger pointed downwards to point at roughly where he figures an examination would put his debuff note. His guess is wrong, and the finger ends up somewhere in no-man's land south of the hp-bar. He grins, dropping his voice by a few notes. Wiggles his fingers spookily. "I. See. Dead people" he divulges, conspiratorially. Then back to his normal voice. "For real. I'll be fine. Appreciate the concern." A pause. "Though not certain I've seen a respawn myself. Not about to volunteer though. Not even for SCIENCE."

Schneider is kind of clueless about custom debuffs or anything else. "Ah. I played basketball in the real world," he explains his lack of game savvy. "So ..." he looks down at the HP bar, shrugs, then hrms at seeing dead people. Then he wonders, "Wait, are you being serious or just being silly?" he wonders. It's hard to tell. But as to the fellow benig fine, he nods and goes along with it. What else can he do? "Good to hear it," he says. "I actually came in to check out some of the artwork," he explains. "I'm doing some research..."

"Quite serious," Spites confirms, his expression grave. For a few moments, at least, but it brightens into a faint smile. "It's actually a bit funny. Like two worlds overlapping, without interacting. Hands are going in the -most- improper places." One eye squints, and he gives Schneider a quick once-over. "Like up noses," he clarifies, keeping things very PG. And if they're doing introductions? He pushes himself to his feet, offering his hand. "Robert. I did some work with the police. You play professionally?"

Schneider hrms at the SpritesHero being serious. "I wonder how that is?" he asks. "I can't see anyone here besides you and I," he says. He smirks at hands going up noses, but ohs and bows at the introduction. "Uh, I'm Dark Schneider," he gives his ingame name. "But you can call me Schneider." He looks over at Sprites, then wonders, "Robert? You're an American, then? That sounds like an American name..." As far as playing professionally, he laughs and shakes his head. "No, no. I played for my high school, and was starting to play in college."

"It's like cracking up at a joke nobody else understand or hears. Hilarious and futile in equal measure. But yup, I'm from the good old U S of A. " Robert drawls in confirmation. "California, where you can pick oranges right off a tree, the surf's like hopping into a slushie, and the girls are nothing whatsoever like what you're probably imagining." Oh. Right. This is Japan, isn't it. He retracts his hand, and instead bows, courteously. "Just hit college, eh, Schneider? That's rough. And yet, here we are. From basketball to research. Any luck?"

Schneider nods slowly as Robert explains, and ohs about the USA. He seems intrigued about California, though he only knows it from American movies. He's familiar with shaking hands, but too slow to carch Robert's, so he'll just return the bow. He's familiar with both, it seems. He nods and sighs about it being rough. "Yeah. I should have stuck to basketball, but I wanted to try this out. My roommate was into computer games, so he showed me how to get online and all." He shrugs about the luck, and says, "I kinda figured it'd be hard. I'm trying to find out about the heroes from a war 500 years ago. The game's incredibly detailed to have the info at all, of course. I mean, it's not like the game's been running for 500 years. So, this was all programmed in. But I'm digging up bits and pieces."

"Sometimes I wonder," Robert observes as he stretches, squinting up at the ceiling. "Maybe it's hard-coded. Maybe it all came from nothing." Pause. "Maybe it's just making things up as we go, and there's no existing connections at all. Just connections that are made in the future and the present, and imply a past that never was. Like filling in a coloring book. Or watching someone evolve from the person you thought they were into the person they actually are. Anything in particular you're looking for? In...artwork, I think you said?"

Schneider can only shrug at the speculation. "If you're going to assume that you didn't grow up in the real world, it could be anything, right? But it's the real world I'd like to get back to, myself. But while we're here, it seems that it may be useful to know about the pre-game history. I'm not sure how, but I won't know until I've done the research." As to what he's looking for, he explains, "About 500 years ago, there was a pretty major war. Something about Scrapped Princesses. There were some heroes involved in that war that did some pretty important things. But it's not recorded centrally in any one place, so I'm going around to temples and libraries to find out what I can."

"It certainly can't hurt," Robert admits. "And I suppose it's a better approach than the alternatives. Less destructive, at any rate." His gaze shifts to the side and downwards, contemplating the floor, even as his hand lifts to rub over his chin. "Wish I could offer you some help, but I'm not too much into the lore myself. And with 500 years having elapsed, if the modeling here is accurate, you're going to run into a half-dozen different accounts, each of which tries to justify the nobility of the current society. Still interesting, though. A pity that this," He trail off to indicate his surroundings with a sweep of his arm, "appears to be the bargain basement of temples. Where even is everyone? Where're the statues? It's like the temple for solipsist atheists."

Schneider chuckles at the research being the less destructive alternative. "You don't know me very well," he comments with a smirk. Of course Schneider is famously the Exploder Wizard from the Bastard anime, which by this time is sufficiently obscure that the name was available, no one else having chosen to make a tribute character. Fire is the element he's famous for, and gratuitous violence. But as far as the bargain basement of temples, he can only say, "It's the starter town. Things are a bit different here in several regards."

"Ain't that the truth," is Robert's response, coupled with an easy laugh and a shake of his head. He doesn't push the point, though. His own user-name has gone completely unremarked-upon, and he shows zero inclination towards changing that. "So," he continues, after a pause. "Find anything interesting just yet?"

Schneider examined SpritesHero, but if he wants to call himself Robert, who is he to judge? He'll call people what they want to be called. But as to finding anything interesting, he says, "I've found a bit. A lot of it's only in oral tradition. But there's some interesting stuff in the Alliance library. No one book really cross references everything, so that's what I'm working on. My literature professor would be proud. So many books, though, only hold one bit or another, only focusing very narrowly on something specific that's only peripherally related."

SpritesHero turns away, clasping his hands behind his back as he begins pacing to and fro, pensive. He pauses, lifts his hand, lightly ruffles the hair of an invisible child in front of himself. "And what do you make of that?" he asks at length, still facing away. "The lack of organized information, I mean, surrounding this event."

Schneider ehs, says, "Well, the game designers obviously were either hiding their lack of depth of information, or else they were trying to simulate the catastrophic after-effects of the Scrapped Princess Wars. Given the amount of detail in everything else, I'm guessing it's closer to the latter. I'm not sure /what/ effect knowing will have. But we won't know until we know. And maybe knowing will unlock other stuff, which would be cool."

SpritesHero frowns, then. Taps his fingers against the back of the chair. He inhales, sharply. Holds the breath. Presses his palms, hard, against his eyeballs. "Yeah, I should think you're right on that one," he opines at long last. "And yet, even so...." A second pause. "What -is- the lifespan on the longer-lived Landers anyhow? I somehow never bothered to ask."

Schneider shrugs to the question about Lander lifespans. "Obviously no one's been in-game long enough to verify. But there was one fellow who had apparently been -in- the war. So, for special people, it's at least 500 years."

SpritesHero's lips tighten, then, compressing into a thin line that twists, hard, before relaxing. "Eyewitnesses, then?" he prompts. "And still no organized information around the event?"

Schneider guesses, "Well, for the people that were there, they remember. They don't need books. And for most people, they need to worry about crops and bandits and weather, and history's not a concern. Yamato hasn't yet reached the sociological point where it's got spare people around to be concerned with history."

"I suppose." Robert drops it, there. He gives his thigh a quick one-two of a smack, as though to clean off dust or dirt. His gaze lifts, sweeps left, sweeps right--experimental--and his head tilts ever so slightly. His expression is indecipherable, save for undercurrents of turmoil. "Welp. I wish you the best of luck, Schneider. Do try not to explode what few written records remain. You could bring about a new Dark Ages, and all on your own."

Schneider explains a bit of his research unbidden: "In Europe, it wasn't until the Renaissance that history was really a thing. In Asia, it wasn't a thing until Europeans came over and were interested. Before that, things were recorded very haphazradly. So, with the informtion the way it is, it's not -too- surprising. Our modern eyes expect more, but what there is, is probably about right." He nods about not exploding the library. "I won't," he says. Sending a dismissal, he says, "I'll just wander over and copy some of the artwork..."

SpritesHero only smiles, over his shoulder, tips an imaginary cowboy-hat, and then steps out into evening's gathering gloom.