aterat | Pulse 001

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Pulse 001

Speaking Crystal

[Mid-morning, a familiar voice rings out over the crystals.]

Good morning, everyone! We trust you've settled in well! We'd like to meet you all formally and invite you to join us in the fountain square this afternoon! We look forward to seeing you there!

Who; The Aspects (Halcyn & Athony) and YOU!
What; The Aspects welcome their new summons to Aterat
Where; The Fountain Square
When; Thursday; Mid-day
Warnings; None I can think of. Will update if necessary

The Fountain square remains unchanged from your arrival, the multiple tiers containing archways all dim save for the one from which Halcyn and her counterpart, Athony, step at the appointed time. Around the fountain, though, have gathered artisans, performers, and salesman as well as recruiters. People are looking for clerks, delivery persons, and people to run small tasks for them. There are leatherworkers interested in hiring intrepid individuals to acquire more exotic skins for their trade and various other ways to earn coin.

And then there is a larger stall built into the back of a large covered wagon pulled by two oxen. It's set off a little ways from the others, either to set itself apart from the vulgus or simply to afford it room. Two people dressed smartly stand a bit apart from it and will encourage any passersby to come speak with the clerk behind the desk. Emblazoned across the side in intricate gold leaf are the letters "MGB" and the callers will inform anyone inquiring they are representatives of the Merchant's Guild Bank, and that they are willing to negotiate investment in any business ventures newcomers may be interested in...for a modest cut, of course. They assure the contract is thoroughly negotiable and urge you to speak with the broker in the carriage.

All business dealings cease when the portal on the highest level of the fountain activates and Halcyn and Athony step through. She is tall, lithe, with flowing red hair and an aura of goodness and life that overrides any attempts to read her mind. He has a darker aura, clad in deep gray armor with a gem-encrusted sword at his hip and a formidable shield strapped to his back. The murk around his mind is just as difficult to pierce, and anyone sensative to the flow of time would sense these two seem to exist as though apart from it.

They descend the dias to stand at ground level, equal to the gathered crowd, but when Halcyn speaks, her soft melodious voice carries as though its amplified, though there seems to be no source of amplification save for a subtle vibration of magic those sensative to it may sense.

"I'm so glad you all came!" She claps her hands together, clasping them before her before spreading her arms wide. "We have so much work to do, as I've told you all already. We have been tasked with the reconstruction of this world, and we simply can't without all of you. The reason why is complicated, but I can assure you we require nothing of any of you that you are not capable of." She motions around at the square and all those gathered here.

"The people of Aterat are eager to welcome you as well, but Athony and myself will remain around should you wish to speak more privatly. Again, thank you all for coming!"

With that, the gathering dispurses into it's former form, though the Aspects remain should anyone wish to speak with them.

Feel free to post top levels to meet and greet your fellow arrivals and to explore the offerings of this strange new city.

Throughout the city, not only today, but at random times, a new rhyme seems to have been picked up by the children at play, skipping rope or playing hopscotch, or dancing in a strange circle. There's a haunting quality to it, but maybe that's only because no one's taken notice of its existence before:

Traveler, traveler, what do you seek?
Riches and fame make oaken souls weap.

Traveler, traveler, watch where you're led.
One turn left, three turns right will take you to bed.

Traveler, traveler, try not to get lost.
The dwellers in the mirk may well be the cost.

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"Not many, but-" He watched her for a moment, tilting his head to the side curiously as she paused only a moment before acting like he'd spun her a full tale. It clicked, then, a voice that sounded rather like Carl filtering through his mind.

"You're a clairvoyant."

"Huh? Yes. Did I not mention that?" She stopped when they reached the door to her apartment but didn't draw a key. She had one with her but Syeira wasn't used to locking doors.

"I am a Seer... in a sense. My clan calls us Readers because we can read the tapestry of time or cloth, if you'd prefer to call it that." She stepped inside of the apartment, leaving the door open for Jagger. Syeira didn't spend a lot of time here. The only indication that she lived here was the fact that there were a lot of pillows and blanks pulled onto the floor in what looks like a nest she might have slept in. It's been difficult to sleep, without her brother or the clamor of the circus outside her tent.

"Not yet." It was sardonic, the response, but it was also his typical reaction to things that didn't make sense to him, at least until he'd had a chance to sort it out and comprehend it.

He looked around her small apartment, taking it all in and making note of what he could determine from the appearance. Whatever the reason, Syeira wasn't comfortable here, but truth be told, who was? "Your clan?"

"My family. That's just, what we call it." She took a seat on the floor and gently gestured for Jagger to join her. Syeira didn't really know what she was going to do or what she wanted to try and show him but she was going to try something that she used to do with her father.

"What- um..." She felt her face flush slightly. "You can see some and because of that I can show you some within my past. Did you want to see my family?"

"Yeah, sure." It wasn't as though it was something he'd never heard. Only, it had been in history texts and cultural studies.

His breath quickened at her question, and at first even he couldn't place why, exactly. Did he want to see her family? Maybe. Did he want to be shown using some power he didn't understand? He wasn't sure.

"...maybe."

She gently takes his hand and leads him towards the floor. There was an awkward pause but then Syeira moved to take a seat on the couch, leading Jagger with her. She wasn't used to having a couch but she was trying to make him more comfortable.

"That isn't really a yes or a no." She didn't want to continue without his permission.

Her fingers lightly brushed against the materials of his gloves as a thoughtful expression touched her features. "Do you always wear gloves?" He was safe with her but she didn't know the full depths of his struggles. Syeira had made a point not to look into Jagger's past.

He allowed himself to be led, though not without a degree of reservation. There were very few people, two, in fact, he trusted with the knowledge of the full extent of his abilities: His partner Carl and Detective Richmond of Homicide in Detroit who barely believed him in the first place.

He nodded in response to her question, looking down at his gloved hands. "Yeah. Easier to keep from accidentally touching something."

She gently turned over his hand before slowly taking off the glove. "I don't know... but if it helps you. Then I suppose it does." Her fingers felt cold in his palms but there were no unwanted visions.

"How about I show you the circus." She closed her eyes and focused on her own memories before gently opening the way for Jagger to see. It wasn't a lot but a rush of laughter and the thick buttery scent of popcorn mingling with the sugary rush of cotton candy. The people themselves blur in and out as Syeira is seen in the middle of one of her dances.

It shifts again and she's younger, in a tent with her older brother. They're playing a game where he guesses the number hidden behind her back and he always reads the correct number. There is an older man in the tent with them, telling them both that it was time for bed.

Carl often suggested the gloves didn't help at all, that it was just a mental thing, but even if that were true, Jagger didn't feel there was anything he could do about it. His eyes followed the trail of her fingers even as they traced tickling treks down his palm. People were the easiest to read, whether he wanted to or not. With this, though, there were no intrusive thoughts, no memories, not even a weird craving for food he usually hated. It was just a human's touch.

At least until the visions flow from her. They aren't chaotic like they usually are, and it's easy to see them, like someone tuning a radio, and he realizes quickly they aren't coming from his mind, but are being funneled into it, instead. They were from Syeira, and they were about her. She loved the circus more than anything, and her people more than she loved herself, but there was a sadness he sensed when the older man showed up a deep and penetrating sadness.

"...what happened to the man?"

Syeira's eyes open as her lips formed into a frown. It was easy to keep the vision in her minds-eye but it was hard to hide how she felt from Jagger. The pain was too fresh.

"My father." She spoke softly. "He was killed because... I couldn't protect him. He was my Reader. That is why I knew that you were one too." She didn't entirely answer the intent of his question and she knew it but it was difficult for her to talk about. She'd already lost her mother, then her father and now that she was in this city, her brother too. Syeira was alone and she didn't like it.

"How are you supposed to protect him?" Or were you might have been a better way of asking. It didn't seem fair that she would blame herself. She may be a visionary, but she was no fighter. "How...did he die?"

"I should have seen it coming. The visitors..." Her mouth tilted into a frown. "They hid their future from me. I don't know how. My father and brother went to meet them. I wanted to go. It was someone important but father told me to stay back. Only my brother made it back... but I saw it happen. The weave made sure that I saw it."

Her hands gently loosened from his before falling down to her lap. "It was a Druid. They're supposed to protect the balance." She felt her tears drop into her hands before she realized that she had begun crying.

"You can't blame yourself for that. We...that's all we can do is see, right?" He hadn't even known druids were real, let alone capable of actually doing anything.

"I'm sorry...for your father and your family."

"Yeah. That's what the clan said as well." She paused and tried to sort through the future conversations before speaking again. It wasn't as difficult when she was sitting next to Jagger. "That's why we started moving towards America. It was to find others and be safe. I think... I think I was looking for you. The person who was also connected to the weave. The person who could-"

Her voice cut off and she suddenly felt embarrassed. Syeira hadn't spent a lot of time alone and she was now very aware that she was alone with a cute boy in her apartment. Well, it wasn't her apartment, not really.

"The person who could what?" Jagger had been alone with clients before, even beautiful ones, and at the moment that was precisely how he was seeing this, as a visit, professional if a little unorthodox.

Syeira lifted her chin to meet his gaze. "The person who could save me." She could hear her heart thundering in her ear; worry gnawing at the inside of her stomach. "You."

She'd never sat like this with someone. Perhaps her father but this was different.

"That's a lot of pressure to put on a bloke you just met." He chuckles nervously and stands, pacing to the other side of the room before looking back. There were too many voices, well the same voice over and over again, reminding him that he was the reason his mother was dead, that it had been his fault, that he was just as much a freak.

"I'm no one's savior, especially a stranger's."

Syeira retreats her hands back into her lap, her head falling so that her gaze could be directed towards the floor. This was strange and sudden. She understood but her heart desperately wanted something familiar and Jagger was familiar, even if they'd just met.

"I'm... so sorry." She didn't realize how it sounded from a 'normal' perspective because all she'd known was the Circus. If she'd told anyone there, they'd believe her without a thought.

"This is a lot. Isn't it... Maybe, we could start by being friends? You were kind enough to listen to me through all of this and trust me." She knows that he's a good person.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit he'd always wanted to know the source of his strange abilities. He'd never really had an answer. Parapsychology seemed to believe it was a random mutation, but that didn't mean it was anywhere close to the truth, and then here comes this woman offering him answers but with a lot of responsibility attached. He couldn't be held responsible for her sanity, he barely kept hold of his own most days, and lord knew his mother hadn't been stable, at least if his father had been believed.

He scoffed slightly, shaking his head out of disbelief rather than any sort of denial. She was right, after all. It was a lot to take in.

"Well, we're not enemies, pet." It was all he had to offer, at least at the moment.

She smiled, her eyes alight with warmth. "That's a start." She hoped that they could be friends though that somehow many her chest ache. The experience had been sudden for them both and incredibly jarring. She didn't want to show it or worry him further.

"I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have dumped all this on you. I was just so happy to find someone familiar in some way. This whole world... it's so strange and I've never been on my own before."

She bowed her head. "Thank you for coming with me. Even just meeting me here. It's made me happy."

He could understand that and his expression softens somewhat at her words. He was so used to being on his own in everything he hadn't even stopped to consider what it might have meant for someone who wasn't.

"I..." He breathed a sigh for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm an arse. Don't apologize. It's not like I made it easy."

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