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Aug 06, 2020 8:39 PM
carillons refugees are yote at vivaria
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Euch. She kneels and picks up the objects. 

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They're little translucent spheres, slightly rubbery to the touch. When her hand closes around them and brings them into contact with each other, they conglomerate into a single instance, and now she is holding {3 gel}.

...the label is... somehow metaphysically attached to the object, not visible the way ordinary writing is visible, more like the abstraction of remembering seeing something written down without remembering when or where or exactly what it looked like. There is some other information attached the same way, but it's mostly blurred out, a long list of similarly formatted blocks of abstracted text each with a line reading {3/? gel}.

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"Um, what." 

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"What?" Delsmiar asks. 

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Leuska passes her the weird round things. 

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Delsmiar blinks. "...One wood and one gel make a torch," she reports. "I'm not sure...what that means...but it's the case." 

"What?" Luvei asks. 

Delsmiar passes him the gel. 

"This is so fuckin' weird," he says. 

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"It sure isn't not weird." 

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One of the green blobs comes hopping along the border between forest and grassland.

Apart from being grassy, the grassland also has hills, specifically one big hill a medium-short distance away right in front of them. In theory they could climb it for a better view of their surroundings. (Its silhouette is, of course, precisely grid-aligned.)

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Instead, Leuska cleans as much goo off her wing as she can with her fingers and takes advantage of the absence of trees to leap into the air, wings beating, to get a better vantage point that way. 

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The big hill turns out to be long and slightly curved, with a small pond or lake nestled in the top end and a river running rather improbably lengthwise down its gradual slope.

Also, they're on an island.

In the direction we will arbitrarily designate as north, stretching from the very top of the hill west along the edge of the forest and north almost to the edge of the island, there's an area of snowy ground sparsely populated by trees of a different kind than the trees in the forest.

The grassland area occupies approximately the east half of the slightly-north-of-middle third of the island, and its trees are enormous—no, wait, there's a couple of smaller ones too. The forest area occupies approximately the west half of the same place, but is a little smaller, ending slightly north of the southern border of the grassland.

South of the grassland is a jungle, and then some sort of hazy purple place. South of the forest is a sandy desert. The desert appears to contain trees of yet another kind, and cacti. Whatever's in the hazy purple place is lost in the haze.

All around the edges of the island, there's a sandy area dotted with palm trees, different in character from the desert.

 

There's a cloud nearby, low enough that she could fly to it although high enough that its strangeness isn't obvious from the ground. It's not moving, and its edges are grid-aligned.

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...She will fly higher to get a better look at the cloud but not actually approach it yet.

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It has the same sort of nature as the hill or the hollow, where it has grid-aligned parts bordered by grid-aligned borders that vary in a natural-seeming way within their grid-cubes but never ever stray outside them.

There's a tree growing out of the top of it. A birch, if she's familiar with birches.

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She is not. But she is familiar with "trees don't grow on clouds, what the fuck." 

She flies closer and pokes the cloud. 

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It's solid enough to stand on, although there's significant give to it. She could probably tear it apart with her bare hands, if that was a thing she wanted to do.

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...She lands on it and tries to tear a chunk off; she's primarily interested in comparing it to actual clouds made of water vapor, which she has also flown through once. 

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It sort of vaguely resembles actual clouds, visually and texurally; there's the same cool misty feel to it when she touches it. But somehow the cool mist maintains enough solidity for her to tear pieces off of it and hold them in her hands.

—although, when she tears a second piece off the edge of the cloud, that piece and the entire rest of the border-cube it was part of turn into actual water vapour, which rapidly begins to dissipate, and a little cube of much more solid-looking cloud-stuff falls out of it to land on the next layer down with the softest of thumps.

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She picks up the cube. 

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She is now holding {1 cloud}. Its list of recipes, or whatever those are, is much shorter than the gel's.

Also, if she looks around while holding it, she can see a sort of ghostly preview of what it might look like if it were reattached to the rest of its brethren as a full-sized cube.

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She...puts it back...?

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And now there's a full cube of cloud there, its edges geometrically perfect, sticking out from the partial cubes to either side. Its top lines up exactly with the flat top surface of the rest of the cloud.

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This is so fuckin' weird. 

...Can she just...get infinite mist by tearing this thing off and putting it back on repeatedly? 

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Well, she can get repeated mist. It's sort of unclear how much of it is actually persisting for how long.

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Is it wet enough for long enough that she can use it to help get the last of the goo off her wing. 

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Goo? What goo? The goo is gone. There is no goo.

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...Huh. So there isn't. That's...weird...flying doesn't usually fling stuff off her wings that effectively but she can't rule out that it just ceased to exist or some other local bullshit. 

She plucks a leaf off the tree experimentally. 

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