kenoslogs | 2024 catch-all

[Demeisen does not usually dream: not in the traditional, human sense of the word, at least. His adventures in less-than-real environments have always been done while fully conscious, aware of the simulation and free to leave it as he chooses.

But on this occasion, he cannot wake up—even though the scenario is too terrible, too apocalyptic to be real. One moment he is standing amidst the flaming, partially blasted estates of a thoroughly evil, soon-to-be-late business tycoon, and the next, the sky itself descends in a devouring tide, overwhelming everything in its path. He sees the earth crack and the primitive structures around him disappear beneath the onrushing mass; and, somewhere in the sky far above, beyond the planet’s atmosphere, he feels element twelve of the Falling Outside The Normal Moral Constraints disappear too. In the dream, the moments between then and his own death stretch an eternity, and are still somehow not enough for him to grasp what has just happened.

Then it all fades: until his senses come flooding back, and he finds himself cocooned in darkness, less than a metre below the surface of some unknown land. It takes him some moments to process, to probe at the hollow edges of his awareness where the ship Mind previously was, to take stock of systems suddenly operating at reduced capacity, or even not at all. Has he been damaged, or just revented in a cheap imitation of his original body? He isn’t yet sure. Neither possibility is promising.

But the soil is beginning to collapse around him, so he may as well claw his way to the surface. And so, he begins.]

[ Amos doesn't usually go to the Tree when he's still alive. He'll wake up there after having died, as everyone does; take a few minutes to regain his bearings; then stumble home as though hungover.

But there's been a recent development in his life, and he's feeling contemplative, so... the Tree it is. It's a nice little spot, he figures. Quiet, and peaceful, and if he's going to go out then maybe he should come out here more often—

The ground is moving.

Is that a hand? ]

Fuck.

[ It's the hissed mutter of someone being taken by surprise, because he didn't know anyone was going to be here. In the ground. Did someone die recently, is that what this is, or what...

A beat, as Amos very helpfully stares at ground shifting below him and what is probably the beginnings of someone beginning to claw their way out. ]

Hey, you need a hand?

[ And then he's dropping down to his own knees and starting to attempt actually helping, maybe-probably answering his own question as he begins to dig from above. He knows he'd appreciate the assist — and also whoever this is is probably going to be too weak to attack him, so, there's no real risk here at all. ]

[As Amos digs into the soft earth at the foot of the tree, the hand disappears beneath the surface, to be replaced with its opposite—and then with the first again, methodically, as the entombed person below scoops their way toward the surface without any particular hurry. Though there is not much strength to the movements, their orderly repetition suggests unusual calm for someone suddenly finding themself buried alive. There is rather less flailing and scrabbling than might be expected.

Presently, a person begins to emerge: a man, tall and thin, dark-featured, and probably completely nude. He burrows out of the ground bit by bit, seeming not at all surprised when his face clears the soil and his dark eyes focus on Amos. He heard him speak, after all, even if he didn’t reply; and he could sense him atop the layer of earth, digging down. Despite the flecks of dirt still clinging to his eyelashes, he barely blinks as he emerges further, and doesn’t even squint as he smiles thinly up at the human man.

If he is still distraught about the harrowing vision he experienced just before waking, he doesn’t show it.]

You seem surprised. Expecting someone else?

[ Really, the calm is subconsciously appreciated. Amos doesn't even think to question it as he digs, that something might be a little off there, if only because the premise of the situation is absurd and somehow mundane all at once. People show up at the tree buried underground or in a cocoon. They then get out. Simple, and also unthinkable in a past life.

Though as the man is unearthed, it then becomes clear that something is, indeed, off.

The lack of blinking, mostly, considering how much of the man is still in the dirt. Amos shifts back a pace to give him space. ]

I wasn't expecting anyone. [ The smiling is also weird, maybe? He can't tell. But he also isn't particularly perturbed by it; more straightforward — this might as well be happening — with a hint of curiosity in an otherwise flat voice. ] Not every day people show up here.

[ A beat. ]

Though if you were going to show up anywhere, this'd be the place.

[ Another beat, before going back to the earlier question. ]

You need help getting all the way out of there, or you got the rest of it covered from here?

[Even as Amos offers to assist him fully out of the ground, Demeisen lifts an arm and flaps one hand to wave the idea away. The sight is a little comical, given he’s still buried up to his chest in loose earth.]

No, no, don’t trouble yourself.

[Placing both hands flat on the ground on either side of him, he braces himself against the dirt and wriggles upward, like he’s shimmying out of a tight pair of pants. He definitely isn’t, though; if he’d had pants, he would have kept them on, and as he fully emerges it becomes very clear that his bottom half is just as bare as the rest of him.

It also becomes clear that whatever vague strangeness Amos might have noticed about his behaviour is the least of his alien qualities. He might also notice how short the fingers spread against the ground are, or how humped his shoulders and upper back seem. He might notice that his torso seems rather short compared to his long, gangling legs.

(He might also notice that, aside from on his face and head, the man seems largely hairless. But, maybe he waxes?)

As he finishes freeing himself from the soil, Demeisen sits back, cross-legged and apparently completely unconcerned with his nudity, and flashes the man across from him a bright look.]

Well! That’s sorted. Now, who might you be?

[ Oh.

Alright then.

Amos watches as Demeisen lifts himself up out of the ground, and yeah, the self-sufficient practicality is good. His eyes follow him as he lifts himself up — so far so good — ah, yup, Amos had first arrived here naked, too — oh what's past his dick actually invites so many more questions—

He can't help but stare. Not just at the obvious spot but at all of it, eyes roving over Demeisen's misshapen (to him) body. Maybe he does wax! That isn't the weird part. Right now he's just wondering what the fuck gravity did to this guy, since that's the only context he has — his legs are Belter-like; his upper half as though he grew up in a gravity greater than Earth's. How does that even happen—

And before he has the chance to vocally make an ass of himself, Demeisen is making himself comfortable right in front of him. Amos is having a tough time tearing his eyes away from his legs, but the sound of the other's voice does a lot of wonders at getting him to look at the guy's actual face.

He is... partially civilized. Kind of. ]

I'm Amos. [ Which is, technically, an answer. He blinks owlishly; this is something very new to him. He could also ask for this guy's name in return,

or, ] What happened to you?

[ Which is unhelpfully contextless, though maybe the vague gesturing at Demeisen's entire body might give a hint as to what he actually means. ]

[A normal person would probably be at least a little offended at the blatant staring this guy is doing at most of Demeisen’s body. Had he actually been misshapen due to some circumstance beyond his control, it would be annoying at the very least. Subtlety does not appear to be one of this man’s better traits.

Demeisen doesn’t give a fuck, though. His current body isn’t actually misshapen, but even if it was, he’s worn shapes with intentional deformities just to provoke the kind of gawking this guy is doing (albeit more of the scandalized variety, given what is definitely tacky behaviour on his part). Amos can stare all he likes; it makes no difference to him.]

Demeisen, [he says, since he assumes this guy will want his name at some point, once he finishes puzzling over the alien body in front of him.] And, most recently, I experienced the sudden obliteration of quite possibly the entire planet I was on, if not more. Then I woke up here. But that’s not what you were asking, is it?

[Being cut off from any way at all to gain context for this situation is a novel and strongly unpleasant experience for Demeisen, but it’s still clear enough that despite the unexpected nature of his arrival, Amos has been taking that at least in stride rather easily. This isn’t his first rodeo.]

Tell you what. You fill me in on what kind of place I’ve found myself in, and I’ll tell you whatever trivia you like.

[ He probably wouldn't even notice if what he doing was considered offensive. Small blessings for him that these are just two guys with unique social boundaries here.

There's a particular word that Demeisen says, though, that properly garners his attention — planet. Amos perks up before shifting position to get himself more comfortable, since if Demeisen is content to sit here in the soil cross-legged and fully nude, then it doesn't look like the either of them is going to go anywhere anytime soon.

Not when this might actually be a more interesting conversation than what he's used to. ]

You're in a place called Kenos. You just crawled out of the Tree of Life. I'm guessing you got a rock on you somewhere now; that'd be your soul, so you're gonna wanna look after that. [ His voice takes on a casual drawl as he lists off all of these things that are old hat to him by now, one after another. Pedestrian, and yet he would've called bullshit on all of them a couple of years ago. ] Only way you get here is by sudden obliteration. Not just of a planet, but your universe. Everything you used to know? It's gone.

[ A potentially upsetting topic, but... it never has been for him, and so he continues on as though it wouldn't be one for Demeisen, either. Your old universe is dead, buddy. Time to move on with the new one — or it would be, except he's still trying to piece together how that body could have possibly developed the way it did. ]

What planet were you on? 'cause I've known people with legs like yours, but then the rest of them was like that too. From growing up in lower g. I've never... I don't see how your body could've ended up the way it did.

[ So polite. ]

[Amos is going to eventually bring Demeisen back to Yima’s mansion fully nude, isn’t he. This is just what’s coming down the pipe, once they’re finished their conversation. Neither of them give enough fucks to worry about gawkers seeing them in transit.

For the time being, Demeisen receives Amos’s explanation with a rather neutral raise of his eyebrow. He looks, at most, a little unimpressed, like he’d been hoping for a better answer and he hasn’t yet figured out how to feel about this one.]

That so?

[He certainly does have a rock in him; he can remember grabbing it on his way up, thinking it seemed interesting, and can tell without looking that it seems to have migrated from his palm to the back of his neck. That’s something to investigate later, though, along with his place in this new world that’s supposedly in an entirely different universe.

(He’s thinking a virtual reality sounds more likely, but sets that thoughtlet aside to pursue when he isn’t actively having a chat with a stranger.)]

Last planet I was on was Sichult, in the Quyn system. People there would find you outlandish, I expect. It’s a bit of a backwater, so aliens [—he gestures at Amos with one stubby-fingered hand—] are still a minor novelty for them.

Though from your befuddlement, I’d hazard the place you’re from isn’t much different.

[ Well, it is cold in Highstorm, so... decent shot that Demeisen at least temporarily gets a coat.

But in the here and now, Amos can at least look at the face of the guy he's talking to. Fading is the novelty of staring over an unfamiliar body type, and he doesn't even have the grace to look embarrassed when Demeisen calls him out on it.

Like, yeah. What else was he supposed to be doing? He's going to consider that answer, a thoughtful little tilt to his head. ]

Where I'm from, I'd never met any aliens. We found a bunch of dead ones' old stuff, but the aliens themselves were already, you know. Dead. [ The shrug is in his voice; what're you gonna do? ] There're some here, though. Bits of life get pulled in from around dying universes, you're gonna end up with a decent bit of variety.

[ Pause. And, without a hint of awareness: ] Most do tend to look more like me, though.

[ Lots of regular humans and human-shaped beings around these parts. Amos settles back, comfortable. ]

Never heard of the Quyn system. I'm from Sol. Spent some time in Ilus, but nobody actually lived there yet. People were only just starting to colonize it back then.

[ He's watching Demeisen as he tosses names out there, curious on if any are gonna stick. Chances are incredibly likely they're from entirely separate universes, but... who really knows, right? ]

[Amos’s comment about the various people in Kenos prompts a raised eyebrow from Demeisen, amusement passing over his face. That he could have gathered without any help from the man; after all, if there’d been a plethora of people with varying pan-human physiognomies, he wouldn’t have been so baffled by the appearance of an apparently-human man with Demeisen’s “mismatched” proportions.

In any case, Demeisen will have occasion to experience Kenos’s demographics for himself soon enough, so he’s not particularly interested in following that specific thread.]

Never heard of either, [he says easily, unaware of any potential hopes he might be squashing.] Entirely possible someone where I’m from would know what you’re talking about, but low-level pan-human civs are largely outside my area of interest, and—except for my brief visit to the Sichultian Enablement—outside my personal experience as well.

[Could they be from the same universe? Maybe even the same galaxy? Demeisen is actually assuming the answer is yes, but he’s hardly all-knowing, and Amos’s home just doesn’t sound especially relevant on any scale beyond his own home star system.]

So, Amos—this place seems pretty deserted. [He spreads his hands, indicating the idyllic landscape of moss and tree around them.] If you weren’t expecting anyone to sprout up from the ground at present, why’d you come?

[ Never having heard of Ilus would be passable enough; the place was still new and not everyone gave enough of a fuck to bother learning about its existence. If it weren't for the people he'd been with, Amos wouldn't have. Never having heard of Sol, though, where all human life originated from, while this guy does look mostly human—

It earns an incredulous blink, slow and obvious. That would... not be possible.

Low-level pan-human civs is a collection of words he never expected to be ascribed to him, so it washes over him easily enough. He's still fixed on the point that Demeisen hasn't heard of Sol, of all systems. It's kind of completely derailed his train of thought here.

Opens mouth, closes mouth. Sol is dead anyway, as is Ilus and these Quyn and Sichultian places, so...

So Amos looks at those odd hands spread not as far as they probably should be, chalks it up to a planet or even an entire universe where gravity just works differently, and looks back up at the Tree. Meets Demeisen's eyes again. ]

Was doing some thinking.

[ What an answer. A beat before he elaborates. ]

Don't get me wrong — place I live, Highstorm, is quiet enough. Good place to think. I should probably take you back there at some point. More that...

[ Hm. Soul rocks were one thing, but factional forces... ]

This place is as neutral as it gets. There're... In all likelihood, your soul's gonna get drawn to one of two forces, Zenith or Meridian. I went with Zenith. Recently fully embraced it, and I was curious if being here would feel any different. Or if the Tree would have any thoughts about it, since it seems to do that sometimes. I dunno if it does or if it has, though.

[ A shrug, like he's not exactly bothered by it. He did end up distracted pretty quick, after all. ]

[The reaction—or rather, the lack of it—he gets from Amos about his unfamiliarity with his civilization makes Demeisen look a little puzzled. He was expecting a little more curiosity than that, especially to follow up his obvious confusion. Does he really not care what Demeisen is or where he came from?

So strange. He’ll never understand humans.

But he, at least, does have questions. When Amos mentions the tree again, Demeisen regards him with interest.]

How would you know?

[He hadn’t noticed anything about the tree so far that would point to it being intelligent, or even animal-dumb, but it does give off some interesting readings when he focuses on it.]

Is your “embracing Zenith” something you’d expect it to care about?

[ A lot of humans tend to not understand Amos either. Demeisen's already doing great.

He can only assume any puzzlement is regarding his new situation — the new way he's going to have to live — on Kenos, which, yeah, that makes sense. That's something somebody would be puzzled over, for sure. Shit, he's kind of a little puzzled now too, now that Demeisen's making him think about it.

Turns out go to the Tree and see what happens wasn't actually much of a plan (even though it did yield something. A productive visit, in a far different way than he was expecting). ]

I dunno. That's why I came here. [ He shoots a look at Demeisen; duh? ] Thing is, there's harmonizing with a force and then there's... I dunno how to put it. Becoming one with it sounds like stupid hippie shit, but...

[ He shakes his head. No, that's stupid hippie shit. ]

I don't think anyone in our generation's hit this level yet. Just me. [ A beat. ] Guess you're part of our generation too now. Huh.

[ Like it's only just dawned on him; this is a guy Amos is going to be fighting alongside or against for Oracles at some point. It's really easy to slide into the peaceful air around here and forget about everything else, even when he's in the midst of plotting something that's anything but.

He regains his focus. ]

I've heard about the Tree leaving impressions on people, though. Trying to talk to them. Not with words, but... I dunno. Somehow. Probably easier to describe when you've experienced it for yourself, but I guess it's just being a tree right now.

[The impression Demeisen is getting from his new pal is that Amos didn’t really have any concrete expectations for his trip here aside from that he’d show up and see if anything happened, so really, he’s not surprised that the venture hasn’t availed him anything aside from an unforeseen run-in with a new member of “his generation”.]

Well, good thing you happened upon me, then, [he observes,] or you would’ve had fuck-all to show for your little excursion.

[The tree does rather seem to be doing normal tree things at the moment: photosynthesizing, and the like. Demeisen sends it a cursory mental ”hello” just to be thorough, but as expected, it remains inscrutable.

At this point, he decides he’s had enough of sitting basically in a hole in the ground, and, after a luxurious seated stretch, picks himself up so he’s finally standing upright. This seems to present less difficulty to him than perhaps it might for a newly-formed shard-bearing human—which is for the best, given that supporting the weight of his rather thin frame would certainly be more difficult for his present companion than Amos might assume.

Having gained his feet, Demeisen takes some sweeping glances around their immediate area.]

You going to show me around? Lovely though our current surroundings are, they do present a bit static.

[ Amos blinks at the bluntness.

Just. Blinks. It's almost the kind of thing he'd say to someone else, although probably with fewer words. And in a flatter tone of voice. And not directed at... himself.

Huh. Well, can't get mad at that one; the point is conceded to Demeisen.

Amos blinks a second time as Demeisen stands up. He then follows him with his eyes, tilting his head back to really, truly see the all of him — and for a moment, Amos is thinking of him as a tree. That you could probably take his long legs out from under him and yell Timber! as he fell, a weird little intrusive thought floating behind a blank expression.

And then, at his prompting, Amos finally stands up — a little shorter than Demeisen; likely more solid, though his clothes certainly help with that.

... Right. ]

Well, you've seen everything you're gonna see here. Unless you want to go back underground again. [ He is guessing that's a no, though. ] I should take you back to Highstorm. Plenty of shit there; there're bathhouses and food and drink and skating and...

[ Pause. Another blink. ]

And snow. And cold. [ And Demeisen is very much naked; Amos is already moving to shrug his coat off. ] Shit, you want something to cover you up? At least until we can get to Yima's. They'll have more clothes for you there.

[It’s just as well that Amos isn’t sensitive enough to take offence to Demeisen’s observation, given they may end up seeing considerably more of each other in the future. Having to apologize for his behaviour would be tedious, and probably start to get tiresome if he had to do it every time they crossed paths.

“Snow, and cold” does attract his attention, lending Demeisen’s expression an interested cast for just a moment. The Tree’s surroundings certainly aren’t particularly chilly, but he also can’t see any nearby landmasses that might support populations if people. It seems the place they are going is either reasonably far away, or sectioned off from this one.

But fortunately for Amos’s body heat, Demeisen has never cared about either chilly climates or modesty, and he’s not about to start now. He waves away the offer of the man’s coat, flapping his hand his way with mild unconcern.]

Not biological. [It doesn’t appear to occur to him that someone might wish to be covered for reasons other than insulation.] You’ll certainly need it more than I.

[ Amos already almost never apologizes for his behaviour. They'd probably get along great, inadvertently offending people who actually do take exception to things at every turn, albeit their styles are probably different. Amos' facial expressions are nowhere near as animated.

Case in point: not biological earns another blink. A raised pair of eyebrows. As though Demeisen has merely imparted a trivial detail upon him, which... kind of?

And if the guy is unconcerned about leaving his entire weird body out there for people to gawk at, then who is he to judge? ]

Well, alright then. We got a little teleportation network here, so follow me. [ As he starts to head towards the cornerstone for Highstorm... though Amos does look back over his shoulder, as though a thought's just occurred to him. ] Are you an android or something? Thought those were only in science fiction.

[ he's allowed to get a little meta on occasion. this one calls for it ]

[Demeisen is indeed far more interested in seeing this teleportation network in action than in worrying about trivial things like covering up his nudity, and when Amos begins to lead the way to the nearest cornerstone, he follows along like the two of them are simply going for a stroll. He has already moved on from the topic of his own personal weirdness in his own mind, and rolls his eyes a little when his companion looks back and asks him about being an android. Humans really can be so slow on the uptake.]

Or something, [he agrees.] Ship avatar, if you want to be precise.

[His face scrunches up then, displeasure writing itself plain over his features.]

Not that the ship in question is present in our local reality, assuming you’re correct about that universe destruction you mentioned.

[He’s not actually assuming that, but it’s certainly true enough that the ship isn’t near enough for him to so much as make contact with it. Until something significant changes to alter his assessment, he’s decided that the best course of action is to play along so he can learn more.]

For now, I’ve been left to my own devices, so android’s true enough.

[ ... Ship avatar.

Amos blinks, once. It really isn't that much to take in, this being only a fraction of technology he's unfamiliar with. He can connect the dots easily enough. ]

Huh. Yeah, it's gonna be just you, sorry. I haven't been on my ship in... shit. Gotta be over two years by now. Goddamn. [ His voice is a little filled with wonder at that. Not everything he's learned about Demeisen so far, but just how long it's been for him. ] Roci didn't have an avatar, though. That one's new to me.

[ Congrats, Demeisen! You're new. And interesting. ]

Well, if you ever find yourself in a bit of trouble I was a ship mechanic, so I might be able to help you out there. [ Could he operate on Demeisen if it came to it?? He doesn't know. Seems plausible enough though. ] Otherwise it's a whole lot of magic shit... rules are probably different here from what you're used to.

[ Case in point: the cornerstone, where they have now arrived. ]

We're going to Highstorm; just do what I do and follow me.

[ At which point he touches it and is gone, just like that — though he fully expects Demeisen to be right behind him. ]

[Amos is right for caring about his own shit instead of Demeisen’s weirdness. That’s not important.]

[It makes plenty of sense to Demeisen that Amos’s ship didn’t have an avatar, and not only because he’d literally just said he didn’t know androids were real. Civ like that, only just starting to explore other star systems, probably didn’t have AIs to boast about. No need for a ship avatar when the ship itself wasn’t even smart to begin with.

But Amos’s offer makes him bark out a laugh, full-throated and incredulously amused.]

May as well attempt brain surgery after taking a fucking first-aid class. For pets.

[Which is to say, Amos wouldn’t even know what he was looking at, much less how to fix any issues. So, no, he’s not interested in letting a “ship mechanic”—grief, what an antiquated term—operate on him. But at least he got a good chortle out of it, and that’s something.

He doesn’t quite follow after Amos immediately. Demeisen spends a few moments inspecting the cornerstone after he watches the other man use it, trying to understand exactly what this thing does and how it’s meant to be activated. Ultimately, though, he isn’t figuring out shit without his full range of systems being online, and the intervening minutes between his waking beneath the Tree and now have not allowed him to make any progress on getting them up and running. Eventually, he’ll just need to touch it and follow wherever Amos has gone, still naked and covered in sap and dirt.]

[ While waiting for Demeisen in Highstorm, Amos has been busy pondering what, exactly, he meant. Wouldn't brain surgery on an android be the same thing as digging through a ship's guts? Isn't it all mechanical anyway? Yeah, there's some shit he doesn't know — whatever the fuck was going on with the protomolecule and its builders, for one thing — but that would trend more towards the realm of magic, which he's had the chance to learn while here.

Huh. Weird.

He's still thinking it over — could he magically build the Roci, somehow? Or something with flight control, at least? — when Demeisen suddenly appears.

Amos blinks; oh. There you are. What took you so long? And looks Demeisen up and down again, now that they're in a much colder environment, and he still looks like, well. Someone who just crawled out of the ground. ]

Are you sure you aren't cold?

[ First-aid for pets... Well, he knows enough to be able to put a coat on a dog. Maybe now that Demeisen is here, in the cold and the snow, he'll have a different opinion. ]

[Demeisen looks human—mostly, even if in sort of a misshapen, alien way—but he isn’t one, and one of the salient ways this makes itself obvious is his reaction to appearing in Highstorm’s streets, barefoot and naked in the snow in sub-zero temperatures. That reaction being… no reaction. He looks exactly as he did among the roots of the Tree of Life, unbothered by concerns like cold or even modesty. Though his flesh looks real enough for one to quite reasonably expect it to pimple from the chill, his skin remains completely smooth.]

Quite.

[He turns to look at the cornerstone he’s appeared next to, observing first its own unique shape, and then the surroundings where they’ve found themselves. The lack of crowds is probably for the best, given that even Amos is skeptical of whether Demeisen should be walking around naked in this weather. Though maybe walking around naked at all is also an issue. He’s still trying to suss out the local feel.

After a moment of looking around, he nods.]

Quaint. Wasn’t expecting this. [He waggles his fingers in the directions of the twin moons and the shifted constellations.] We really are in a different place entirely.

[ Amos quirks an eyebrow as he looks Demeisen up and down, like he still doesn't entirely believe him — at least until he's forced to admit that he has to, considering the guy's complete lack of reaction to the cold. He isn't even shivering or anything, and doesn't seem the type to play bullshit tough guy, so he really... must not be cold.

He's just all out there instead. Alright then. Amos offers one more pointed look — is it at Demeisen's long legs, or just above them? — before meeting his eyes again, catching that nod. Following his fingers to look up at the night sky. Back at Demeisen, question written on his features. ]

Well, yeah. We were at the Tree of Life. Now we're in Highstorm. [ Obviously? Keep up. ] What were you expecting?

[ He'd said there was a teleportation network... ]

[Amos’s pointed look at Demeisen’s fully exposed junk—also unaffected by the cold, it would seem—either flies right past the avatar’s awareness, or he just chooses not to worry about it. After all, if the other man isn’t concerned enough about it to say something, it must not really be that important. A little awkwardness is considerably more than it would take to put a dent in Demeisen’s confidence.

As for what he was expecting, he considers this for only a brief moment before giving a small nod, as though to himself.]

Fewer lunar bodies.

[There hadn’t been any moons or suns in the vicinity of the Tree, after all. Even if they were going to end up somewhere else, he hadn’t expected the distances at play to be that significant.

Well, that’s a puzzle for later.]

Anyway. There a dispensary of some sort for supplying the newly-arrived?

[Amos had mentioned baths and food and drink, but he hadn’t mentioned where any of these things were to be found, at least not specifically. Also if Demeisen needs money to acquire any of that stuff, there are going to be some issues.]

2024 catch-all

for Amos — sci-fi guy tree time

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