thusia | purple haze all in my brain

purple haze all in my brain

Who: errybody
When: Sunset, day 108
Where: Building D, 4th floor
What: Hashing shit out

[Maybe you heard about it through the grapevine today, or maybe you saw one of the many fliers lying around, reading:

Open Forum
This evening at Sunset
Auditorium on the 4th floor

Topics of discussion will include:
1. Should we move
2. If so, when and where
3. The lizagons, friend and foe
(in particular, under what terms
do we intend to live together, if
we are going to do so)
4. General future goals

Air your concerns and grievances here
Gods are invited, but NO WHINING ALLOWED

Maybe, if you aren't normally the sort to come to meetings, your apartment has been mysteriously broken into and an item taken, with only a ransom note left behind: "If you want to see it again, come to the auditorium on the fourth floor at sunset."

Either way, when you arrive, there will be a pile of stolen goods on the stage, quite unharmed. There will also be a table with various foodstuffs and drinks. The food is quite tasty, and so is the tea. The booze isn't bad either. It must have come from someone with a pretty impressive stash.

On a completely unrelated note, there is one (1) Yakumo Yukari sitting in the front row. She is the picture of innocence, and there is absolutely no way she stole your shit. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

['That corner' is certainly considerably changed from his last visit here. It's hard to see, being carried like this, but the memory pod that had held Tide's developing replica is completely gone. Where it had stood, the floor, even some of the walls have changed; surface smooth but organic, sheared planes of hexagonal crystals forming the basin of a shallow pool.

Zexion walks over to it and, without any fanfare at all, lowers Chrono into the liquid contained within.]

[He doesn't resist, but he does sit up, eyes wide; there's really no mistaking what this is. He could feel it from the other side of the room.]

How did you--?!

The materials themselves were leftovers from the process previously completed here. Identifying them and encouraging growth in such a way that they would ultimately be beneficial was a matter of your memories.

Lie back. At the least, your shoulders should remain submerged.

[Legion pool '-' .... Legion pool!!!

He doesn't lay back yet, though, still clearly vexed.]

But why? Why bother?

What else was I going to do with it?

[I... okay. I'll process this later. When you aren't around.

After a long, blank look he just lays back, letting the water wash over him.]

[Presses a damp hand to his forehead, as much checking his temperature as urging him back against the pool's edge.]

Rest. Should you linger here longer than was previously conveyed, I will inform your housemates of your whereabouts.

[Why are you so fucking perplexing.

He's really not in any position to argue, though, so he just nods and closes his eyes.]

[The hand on his forehead lifts, and there's the sound of leather sliding against leather as he stands, walking to the doorway and slipping quietly out.]

[That leaves him plenty of time and solitude to quietly think himself in circles. First, though...

There's the matter of regrowing a limb in a world with awful power limitations. Even with a week of practical bed rest and a healing pool of legion, this is going to suck. He lifts his good(ish) arm from the pool, watching as the bandages slip off and the legion slowly starts rebuilding itself over the worst of the wounds.]

[You know, if you'd rather have company, I am sure there are a myriad of fascinating observances to be made about cellular repair and regeneration.]

[I am not a science experiment, Zexion.]

[Are you absolutely, 100% sure about that.]

[WHY DON'T YOU COME IN HERE AND FIND OUT.]

[Because I'm being remarkably considerate, in addition to being unexpectedly helpful.]

[Yes. Yes, evidently so.

I wonder for how many hours I can uselessly ponder myself in circles...]

[It is quite the conundrum, isn't it? I'd say it can last as least as many as it takes to reconstruct a limb.]

[A limb could theoretically be reconstructed in seconds. For the sake of mental crises, though, we can probably peg this one for a good three or so hours.]

[Which is just enough time for the smell of simmering stew to creep down to the lower floor, drifting enticingly through the mostly-closed lab door.

Faint sounds of movement in the adjoining room eventually follow; the click of cutlery, the soft thunks of weighted ceramics on wood.]

[I am not going to interrupt a meal, who do you think I am.

There's also the sudden, troubling reality of astral exhaustion that wasn't there a few hours ago. Actually, attempts to sit up seem to be mostly failing.]

[You say that as if it were my meal you would be interrupting.

The knocking that follows at the door is soft . . . soft enough for someone sleeping not to notice it. Soft enough that you could pretend it wasn't there at all.]

[... Godammit Zexion!!!

It's a very long few moments before there's any response, like maybe there won't be one...

Finally, quietly;]

I'm awake...

[The door opens and Zexion slips inside, walking over to sit by the side of the pool.]

My apologies for interrupting. It's mid-evening; much as you had conveyed that you would return by now, you seem as though the continued rest might serve you better.

[He lifts his right arm slowly and watches it rather than Zexion, flexing the fingers experimentally.]

... Tempest is going to worry regardless.

[Follows Chrono's gaze, briefly evaluating the new limb before returning his attention to where it was.]

She'll worry less if she sees you.

Shall I let her know where you are?

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