Open Lake Horatio Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainstorms

Harlow

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Water burst out with every step, droplets painting the legs that charged through it. An echoing, high-pitched cry transformed into a laugh. Cupped hands fell beneath the surface to toss a thin pocket of water upwards. A trio of faces turned upwards as a momentary rain fell upon them, bringing a relieving coolness to their suntanned skin. Their feline ears twitched at the sudden moisture as they reveled, minds void of work or worry.

In a few hours, the sun would leave them. They would return home. The next day, they would return to work, and someone would berate them for their absence. They would laugh a fake laugh, smile a fake smile, and apologize in lies. They wouldn't be sorry. Why should anyone be sorry for being genuinely happy?

That's what they were, after all. Genuinely happy. For this slice of fleeting daylight, they were allowed that, even if it would be gone by tomorrow. Harlow's head was rotated to the left, staring as the party of three rejoiced, distant specks from his position. As his eyes zoomed and focused to observe them, his face did not budge. There was a usual blankness to his expression that was neither pleased nor upset. Unlike a lack of light dictating darkness, a lack of happiness did not indicate unhappiness with Harlow.

He reached a hand up to his shoulder blade, pressing a button along the structure as a short, sharp hiss exhaled from his joints with no visual indication. His eyes fell from the group, pointing downwards to his feet. As the Pain Limiter setting was toggled off, his movements became more fluid, shoulders slumping. Slowly, sensation of the water's soothing, shifting pressure ran across the subtle marks of disrepair along his bare feet. They did not stomp and splash with summer spirits. They only served. Quietly. Coldly. Without commendation.

Harlow stood, beholden by the water's surface, waiting for nothing.
 

Ash Vargold

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Ash has been on the road for a bit. The caravan he's riding with, while friendly to the erratic presence of a traveler, was one taking a less straightforward route from Vintergard to Finweald. Its why he's here now, maintaining a body that hasn't even been physically present for most of the day but still has needs for things like water and cleanliness.

Some of his attention is turned to people playing in the water - he doesn't know them, but while he's not exactly here as a bodyguard he's not above helping if things come to it. Its the reason that, when he feels the ghost of someone's attention, words whispered by this-or-that spirit that's followed in his wake, he's quick to heed it.

The source, the figure, is little more than a speck in the distance. He can't tell if it's a person or a beast or a goblin, but its been there for a while, and at this point he's not content to leave it as an unknown. Breaking away, he begins to approach, following the shore as he does.

If they're aggressive or fearful, then he'll find out very soon. If it has to be either, he's hoping for the latter.

@Harlow
 

Harlow

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How long had it been since he had practiced his kata? Was it even worth practicing here, where not even his vocabulary was obedient to him? Harlow stared into the water as it, like this world, shifted his identity into different shapes, always molded around the original, but never perfect.

The water was nice. A warm day with the lightest breeze. These were a rare gift in the real world. Things were quiet and calm. The three intrusions in his vision acted as little more than a helpful white noise to keep things from becoming too quiet. Everything was as he liked it to be. Nothing was out of sight, nothing would surprise him.

Which is why, as his eyes meticulously scanned every reflective ridge of the waxing waves that rippled out from his calves, Harlow noticed a spot. It was an anomaly he couldn't make out amidst the water's movement, but again and again, it would crop up whenever the water reached upwards in the right spot at the right time.

Slowly, his head turned, staring towards a currently unknown @Ash Vargold. Harlow's posture shifted until he was standing with his back to the lake, body pointed towards this person, staring. The distance wasn't a match for his enhanced vision. Awareness of spirits, on the other hand, was a plane his eyes knew not how to tread. His hand pulled into a fist and rose above his chest, a known greeting amongst members of the Lion Arms. If this person was friendly, they might know of this gesture.

"Radio check." He spoke into the open air, increasing the volume of his voice before proceeding, to make up for the distance between them. "This is Harlow. Over."
 

Ash Vargold

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When the figure turned to him, Ash hesitated - it wasn't until Harlow gave him a salute that he relaxed. He'd seen a few at Camp Hope making that same motion - members of a group called the Lion Arms, some peacekeeping force that had formed sometime in the past four years.

They'd tried to recruit him, actually. It seemed like they were a little desperate for new blood...

He returned the salute with a wave - nothing associated with a group, but one that demonstrated friendliness nonetheless. He began to pick up his pace, so they could actually have a conversation, but nearly tripped when @Harlow raised his voice much louder than any person should be able to... and sounded like he was communicating over some kind of radio? They hadn't invented walkie talkies in the four years the game had shut down, had they?

...but Harlow was looking at him. Which probably meant it was meant for him. Weird.

"Uh." Ash coughed, then raised his voice. "...Ash, over?"

...that was terrible. He resolved not to do that again. Instead he shook his head and continued to close the gap. "Yo! Player, Lander, or both?"
 

Harlow

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Ash. Harlow registered that in his database, zooming in and making mental note of the facial features of the approacher. He passively adjusted his volume again as the distance closed, first dilating the setting a bit too low, but correcting it after an additional, albeit very quiet radio check to himself.

"Player. Are you?" Lander was a term he had only heard a few times now, but he got the gist. Also, piecing together that both probably meant the UI-lock thing some folks had mentioned wasn't difficult for him either. This learning processor was doing wonders, even if it was hard to realize sometimes.

"Why have you come? To the lake. Over." Harlow's tone and expression didn't shift in the slightest as he spoke, appearing to make no effort to practice the usual humanizing inflections. In actuality, his internal dialogue often attempted to be much more human and friendly. The words always came out differently in this world, though. The intention of this statement had been to inquire more so on the pretense of am I intruding on your property, but his automatic translation program seemed to have other plans for the conversation.
 

Ash Vargold

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"Same, yeah." Ash was still trying to wrap his head around Harlow's speech pattern. Roleplayer? Death affliction? It was only as he got closer that he began to pick up a distressingly familiar noise - a vague, mechanical whirr that reminded him of the machines in Vintergard.

...but this was a player. He knew that Felis and Caenis were now both simply 'Beastfolk' now - did they add in some kind of machine race during the four year period? It explains the restless anxiety of the spirit that continues to cling near him - someone that died to magitek probably didn't care much for any sort, even players.

"Just handling some basic needs," Ash replies. Now that he's close, he can see some definite signs to prove his theory - the eyes in particular. "I'm with a caravan going to Falderen - see what's happening in the newbie area. Maybe give some people a 'tutorial' about Terrasphere, since those don't exist online anymore."

He flicks an ear, looking out towards the lake. "What about you? Fishing, or just enjoying the view?"

@Harlow
 

Harlow

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Even the keen capabilities of Harlow's gaze could not find the spirits Ash could. Otherwise he might be flicking them off. Though Harlow stood remarkably still, his posture was relaxed.

"Understood." Harlow listened to Ash's reply and explanation of where he was going, despite not looking towards him very often during the explanation. Every little noise seemed to spark a curiosity within the Magia that his eyes could not resist. Still, the rest of his body did not move, and his attention on Ash was similarly unwavering. "The Lion Arms did the same. That is why I joined them. The goal. Your goal is honorable. Over."

Once the line of questioning turned onto why Harlow was there, he didn't have a definite answer. At least one that he wanted to give. His reasoning was rather vacuous.

"I was walking. Found this place. It's nice. Yes? Over." He explained, turning his head to look towards the lake, sun glimmering across the clear water's surface. Needless to say, the picturesque display was hypnotic even to someone as android-like as Harlow. Even still, his voice did not fluctuate. "First time here."

@Ash Vargold
 

Ash Vargold

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Ash looks out across the water. Water isn't strange to him - living in a coastal region in reality has inured him to much of the wonder.

But it is still nice, especially considering this is a simulation of a lake. He squats next to the water, watching as creatures dart below the surface. "It is nice, isn't it? I haven't been here before, either. Never had much reason to head this far north." The gentle lap of the waves, the slightly humid smell of water and vegetation. It's soothing.

He stays down, tail swaying to maintain his balance. His hitchhiker is still tense, but Ash has calmed down some. He can't help but be curious, though, and eventually that curiosity wins out over nervousness. "So... you're new, I'm guessing? I couldn't tell from far away, but that race you're playing didn't exist four years ago." He glances up, attention drawn once more to the odd look of Harlow's eyes. "Some kind of... machine race, I'm assuming? Magitek?"

@Harlow
 

Harlow

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"Affirmative. I am new. Over." He confirmed, but listened motionlessly at the mention of his racial choice. Harlow tilted his head after a pause, presenting his own forearm, and allowing the thin cloth of his robe to draw back, revealing design of an absolutely unnatural arm. It might've had a fleshy feel, as well as a nice coat of paint, but whatever constructed his body, it was not typical flesh and bone.

"Correct. Magia. I believe it is Magitech." It was a safe bet, but he didn't make any solid claims. "I was not here four years ago. It may be new." He looked up from his arm, which twisted and flexed, revealing the unnatural shape meant to mimic the humanoid form. "I selected a setting. During creation. My words are translated now. Over."

He attempted to explain his diction dilemma, hoping it came across clearly enough to be understood, that he was not speaking this way voluntarily. It was the first time he had attempted to confess his situation to another player, so he was uncertain of how well it would go over.

@Ash Vargold
 

Ash Vargold

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Ash thumps his palm with a fist and nods. "Ah, I think I understand. Racial trait, right?" He'd seen that option in his stats the last time he'd checked, though as a "legacy" character, the traits once associated with caenis had already been selected. "I knew that a person's race choice could alter perception, and death ailments can do more severe things, but messing with your ability to speak? That's pretty rough."

He crosses his arms, looking down at Harlow's arm - he looks equal parts fascinated and shocked. "That does look Magitek, huh. Explains some things." Like the spirit that still whirls with panic at his shoulder. Ash is pretty sure it'd be doing more than that if he let it.

"Fortunately it seems like you can get a point across, even if you sound like a radio operator... there's no option to turn it off, or change the trait?" Ash crosses his arms. "I mean, even a death ailment can get removed if you can afford it..."

@Harlow
 

Harlow

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"Affirmative." Harlow confirmed that it was a racial trait, leaving his arm presented for further examination, if Ash intended. Or perhaps he simply forgot to lower it. Either way, the limb remained carelessly raised between them. "It can be difficult. Irritating. Over." He was pleased to find that his condition was not mocked. After all, he hadn't the slang or vocabularic flexibility to win any sort of verbal altercation, and any attempts to do so would certainly only result in an embarrassing reminder.

"It does allow learning. Quickly. I do wonder. Is it worth it?" It seemed that the choppier his dialogue came off, the closer it was to his actual intent behind the message, as he combated with the automated programming. "It is unfortunate. I have not found a method. To disable it. Do you have anything similar? Over." Harlow inquired to the racial traits of Ash, imagining the various possible options available to other races.

He maintained a somewhat selfish, and probably foolish hope that there would be a similar enfeeblement to any racial gift sustained by the other.

@Ash Vargold
 

Ash Vargold

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Ash shakes his head. "When I started playing, the race choices didn't have that sort of variety." He points up to his ears. "Before they generalized it to 'beastfolk', my race was caenis - it gave me enhanced hearing and smell. It can get overwhelming at times, but nothing quite as bad as what you got saddled with."

He hesitates a moment. There is something else, but it's always felt awkward to talk about it. But considering Harlow's seen fit to confide in him, bringing it up is the least he can do. "...not to say I don't have my own issues. I've died once already, and, well-"

He puts a hand on his chest. The beat is even, at least for now. "I thought it was regular anxiety at first, but at some point I clued in to the fact that I'd gotten saddled with a sort of... fear of being alone." He shrugs helplessly. "If I'm by myself for too long, my heartbeat gets erratic. It makes it tough to go it solo. Not that going solo is a good idea in this game."

It's not the same as communication difficulties, but maybe it's enough to make him feel a little less alone in his situation.

@Harlow
 

Harlow

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The Magia listened carefully, knowing well the value of a more veteran player's knowledge was not to be wasted. Information about the game's past was information. It would someday come in handy, so Harlow took mental notes about the racial distinction and enhanced senses. Perhaps it was like his hyper awareness, but not as intense, he imagined. "Understood." He nodded.

His arm lowered as Ash brought up their first death. Harlow couldn't imagine having an ailment like that, having spent most of his time since joining TerraSphere hunting or gathering on his own. A stark majority of his actions had been taken in solidarity. He made a silent hope that he would never be struck with a similar sickness.

"I have heard of Death Afflictions. This is the first I've heard– more detailed." Harlow hummed for a moment, perhaps an error, or interrupting his own train of thought before the words could emerge. "A dangerous symptom. Could lead to more deaths. We'll just prevent you from dying. From now on. Over." This had been the reason he had joined the Lion Arms, after all. His final comment was meant more to come off as comforting. Regardless, maybe it wasn't any use, since they were dealing with something literally called a Death Affliction, and something with a name that intense probably couldn't be therapy'd away.

The two had very different predicaments, surely, but Harlow appreciated the understanding of this new friend. He had feared and expected mockery, but this respectful, mutual disclosure of enfeeblements was nice. He'd have to look for an opportunity for the two to share their strengths when the time was right.

"I am unobligated. Willing to travel. Might I tag along? Over." He knew not where this Ash was going, but in the grand scheme, Harlow hadn't known where he himself was going to begin with.

@Ash Vargold
 

Ash Vargold

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Ash can't help but chuckle in response to Harlow's declaration. Maybe it's just the speech impediment, but there's something endearing about such an earnest statement. "I'm not planning on it. Death's a bad idea all around in this game, after all."

He's hesitant to delve too deep into it yet. It's a strange weight, the knowledge of people being UI-locked, and it always feels a little cruel to inflict it on others, no matter how important it is to be informed...

So for now, at least, he leaves the unspoken question hanging in the air as he continues. "I wouldn't mind. I'm sure the caravan wouldn't mind another Traveler to deal with the goblins and so forth along the way." He motions vaguely in the direction of the camp. "Come on, its this way..."

His hitchhiking spirit hisses objection in his ear, clearly upset. Ash, finally at his limit, waits until there's a little distance and hisses back in as quiet a voice as he can manage. "Would you calm down, already? He had nothing to do with your death."

It's... not exactly the best hidden, especially to someone with better hearing. Certainly an attempt, though...

@Harlow
 
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