十 - shí
[The words appear is the quick, delicate scrawl that characterizes Huo's writing when he's distracted. Long moments pass between sentences.]
This is very unusual.
And violent.
I'm reasonably sure that a feather fan can't do that.
Is anyone else in the Wilderness at the moment? I require some assistance.
-- 火
This is very unusual.
And violent.
I'm reasonably sure that a feather fan can't do that.
Is anyone else in the Wilderness at the moment? I require some assistance.
-- 火
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All right. Where is this? Any landmarks? [Like the prizes station, a pizza place, etc]
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[OOC: Gotta get offline now, but wouldn't mind a quicklog ^^]
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[It doesn't take long to clear with her supervisor. A Wilderness without nasty surprises, one that's already been mapped and measured, doesn't have much left for Adventurers to do.]
[Mindelan appears with a midsized, ugly dog trotting jauntily alongside. She's got some ear piercings, a nose ring like you'd give a bull, there is eyeliner, and she's dressed largely in black; the Sphere's put her into the outfit of some generically Goth musician.]
Huo?
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[Huo gives his usual bow of greeting, though it looks a bit weird from a man who's currently dressed like a 1920s blues singer, suit, tie and fedora and all. He's as serene and casual as ever, though there's something just a bit off about it as he gestures toward the machine he's been closely observing.
The machine is cycling between sample gameplay, and is currently playing this video. Yeeeaah.]
What do you make of this?
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[The first time she'd seen a video screen it had been cause for some staring. Rock Band. When this Wilderness had coalesced, and she'd seen the various games involving real-looking people as opposed to stylized ones, there'd been some more. Min hadn't entirely followed Compass's rambling explanation involving liquid crystals, lightning, manufactured intelligence, and puppetry. She could accept, a bit reluctantly, that it was human-made without mage help, and it could show whatever its maker wanted it to show, but these things would always have a whiff of the strange.]
[But she knows that's not why he wanted someone.]
They're not very organized. [There's a faint trace of disapproval seeping past her stoic mask. If a single being is massacring you, you change tactics. This manufactured intelligence must not care much for these puppets.]
[Sidelong look.] He looks something like you.
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He nods, frowning slightly at the face that flashes at the bottom of the screen.] There is some resemblance. [But it isn't the face that he lingers on. Rather, he waits until another message appears, one with a different face, and indicates that with one hand, the true source of his uncertainty.]
I can read this man's name - I assume it is his name, as it accompanies his portrait - and those of several others. But his name, the fan-wielding general... [He hesitates; he knows the implications.] The characters shift and blur before my eyes.
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The same thing happens to me sometimes. There is a word I can only see as dei, but I'm told that that isn't it at all.
[Assuming that these are Chinese characters... Japanese writing deriving from those and Yamani writing being an expy of Japanese, they aren't entirely opaque to her, but they're a general mismash, with a bit here and there that seems to make sense.] You'd like me to copy this name, then. Any others?
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[He nods again with approval at her suggestion.] I would greatly appreciate that. [The question makes him pause to think, then shake his head.]
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[When she's at rest, Mindelan writes with a brush and ink. In the field, she puts down map lines with a small compressed-charcoal stick. She uses that now on a canvas scrap that was between the pages of her journal, copying the characters carefully.]
I should wait to put this in ink. It's going to smear off left like this.
[The demo now involves sheets of fire. She raises her eyebrows, a very mild and understated expression.] Have you tried to work it? [She's tried out fighting games, and isn't great at buttonmashing.]
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Watching her copy down the characters, his eyes follow the movement of her hand closely, trying to form a picture in his mind. The task does not seem as though it should be difficult, but he only becomes confused, and the marks on the canvas are still only smeared patches.] Do you by any chance recognize the writing style? [His mind is racing with possibilities to test, to unlock the secret of the words. Read them out loud, code them in numbers, trace them on skin...
Her question causes him to smile sheepishly.] I do not think I'll be very good at it. [He has no idea if that's true, but it's his default answer to such questions.]
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[Mindelan shakes her head.] I recognize the characters, but they're not Common letters, they're kanji in a language I don't understand. I can't sound it out. [She wraps the charcoal stick back in the dirty bit of cloth it had been in before and stows it.] I could say what each character means, but they probably have different meanings in different languages. [Such are the issues with lographic writing. ...And mun has no idea what the meanings would be.]
I don't think it would play like Street Fighter. [Well, she's waiting for Jump anyway. A bit warily, Min touches something on the console, and the Start Menu comes up.]
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Please forgive me for imposing so much. [His voice is low when he finally speaks.] But I should appreciate if the copy remained with me. It may be precious information. [And he knows of at least two people who may be able to read it. And one of them is unthinkable.]
You seem to have more experience than me, [he comments as she brings up the menu. His hands brush one of two sets of controls, testing the joystick.] This is... not intuitive.
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[The dog comes back with something in his axelike jaws. Min steps away from the console, takes it, notices the stickiness and the sweet smell, and shakes her head. It's a stick of candy.] Jump, this is some kind of food. Right shape, wrong matter. I want a pen or a pencil. [Jump's ears flatten against his head, and he trots away again. Min sets the stick on one of the consoles and cleans her hand with some water and a kerchief. Dog saliva, she has no problem with, but sugar is sticky]
I'll give it to you once I've retraced it. As it is, the charcoal will smudge off. [There's no reprimand in her voice. At some point in her life, Mindelan has mastered the art of calmly telling people to be patient.]
I have a little. [She has no idea what the menu is saying and is hitting "A". Fortunately nothing in this Wilderness actually needs coins or tokens. ...and she would pick Pang De, because vaguely medievally.] It's fairly simple. Make the figure move with the stick and do... various things with the other ( ... )
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He can read the menu, but it means very little to him; instead, he follows her hands on the controls and tests his own until he also gets a response from the machine. The character portraits cause him to stop and stare: bar one or two, he can read none of the names. All of them smudge in the same way, though the faces they accompany are utterly unfamiliar. It's a lapse he cannot and does not attempt to hide. The machine seems to almost be mocking him.
Unwilling to be shaken, he ends up settling on the character that attracted his attention in the first place, the fan-wielding general with his loose hair and cunning eyes.] There is some resemblance, [he mutters again, ( ... )
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