Trust.
[Laelys earns Untitled's trust by attempting to thrust a spike into his skull. Closeness ensues.]
Night Gardens: Gate
The vast, linked caverns that make up the Night Gardens are alive with cool breezes and glimmering lights. Phosphorescent, bell-like blooms hang from the arching branches of trees, casting their eerie glow through the mist. Everywhere are pale, mysterious plants and fungi, all slender stalks and fleshy crowns. Small creatures - insects, birds and others - scuttle about the underbrush and flit through the dripping canopy. Fireflies wink as they sail overhead. The air is heavy with moisture, and with the perfumes of a million flowers... and it is thick with music.
A composition in itself, the Gardens resound with the nocturnal songs of its precisely tweaked resident creatures: the buzz and chirp of insects; the sharp, descending whistles of birds; the trills of amphibians matching one another in ever-shifting harmony. Even the plants take part in the symphony. Some have long, rattling seed pods or crystalline leaves that ring when stirred, like wind chimes. Others have hollow trunks which serve as resonating chambers for curious, long-legged birds, or as drums for the complex polyrhythms of woodpeckers.
The entrance to the Gardens is marked by a round arch of mossy stone. From here, steps lead and away into darkened tunnels. Through the arch, a pathway made of broad, flat stones winds ward through the thick foliage.
Untitled, after a boat trip and a good brisk walk, finally stops, and indicates your surroundings with a broad wave of his arm. "And here we are."
Somewhere in the underbrush, a cricket sings.
Laelys looks around with a strange expression; almost forlorn. "I think I like this kind of night," he tells Untitled, softly. And then there's a pause. His voice lowers considerably. "You know," he adds, a quiet murmur, "I think I have found a way to make sure that I can trust you." There's an edge in his voice, however, that isn't entirely discomfort.
Untitled nods, smiling rather dreamily as he takes in the sights and sounds, ones he's known many times before, but never gets tired of. "It's beautiful here," he rumbles quietly. Your words soon snap him out of his reverie, though, and he looks at you with an eyebrow arched, his LEDs flickering slightly. "The way you say that sounds troubled, and perhaps troubling," he rrms, frankly but not unkindly. "But I'd be happy to hear you out..."
Laelys looks at you, his eyes of deep ochre hard to read, and he slowly begins to extend his neck toward you, as if, uncharacteristically, about to touch someone, you, with his snouttip. But the moment passes, and he withdraws his muzzle. "I have made," he says, looking down, his tone almost unemotional, "something that can test for how much trust I can put in you. Let me show you." He takes a step back, on all fours, and reaches into his satchel, avoiding your eyes.
Untitled watches you with a cool expression, somewhat uncertain, but not disapproving per se. He synths, "I find it hard to believe such a thing can be quantitatively, scientifically measured, but then, many things about the technologies of this reality are hard to believe." He stands, patiently, watching to see what you'll do.
"That's the idea," says the draconid in a murmur, and he retrieves an odd looking device from his satchel. There's a flat panel with buttons and a display, connected through a limp tube to a metallic device that has a handle with a trigger, and a long barrel. He holds up the metallic part, pointing it upwards, away from you, unthreateningly. Then he presses the trigger.
Untitled LEDblinks. "What an odd piece of equipment," he synths. "Does it have a name?" He remains standing in place, assuming you'll request any action on his part that your process requires.
There's a pneumatic sound, and the tube gives a jerk as a long spike, the size of his palm at least, thrusts forward with a cold gleam, and then is withdrawn back into the barrel in the blink of an eye. And Laelys at last looks at you, straight into the LEDs of your eyes, expression unreadable as he takes a step forward, just one, and slowly, as if to make it plain he's giving you time to step back, he brings the barrel to your forehead. "Maybe it will have a name, very soon," he murmurs. "Look straight into my eyes. I promise you won't feel anything." Tensedness in his voice. He seems certain you're going to run away.
Zoe: "The Puzzle is infinite and sprawling, warmed by the sleeting Imago and fierce Onierocytes. Caught on one of the many struts that eclipse the light lies a star, resting. She's been burning for a long long time and she's finally taking a breather. She misses her motherthing and speaks to the Young Man, who offers her some of his spliff. She refuses, having no mouth to consume it with, and instead, asks him to describe it. He does, describing it like being turned into smoke and then solidified again. He plays music for her as the Puzzle turns away from the scene."
[How... timely. Thank you, Zoe. :)]
Untitled's expression does shift somewhat at the sight of that spike, one eyebrow quirking up at a rather sharp angle. When you point the barrel, from which that massive lancelike projection emerged, at his forehead, he frowns slightly. "I don't TRULY doubt your motives, dear," he synths, "But it seems only fair to tell you that, if I feel dangerous modifications being made to my infrastructural programming or AI core, I am quite capable of defending myself with a pike through my head. On the far-off chance that this has cause to concern you, perhaps you might want to reconsider your actions." That said, he smiles rather pleasantly, all his tension seemingly relieved once he's gotten the polite warning out of the way. "If all you need to do is puncture my nanomaterial, and/or do some data-gathering, then please, by all means."
Laelys nods, slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. The barrel is still held to your forehead, cold, menacing, but he remains perfectly still as he says, his lips barely moving, but with an odd sort of kindness in his voice, "I would like you to consider the possibility that this device may change you in such a way you would no longer want to defend yourself." His expression softens, subtly: the corners of his mouth are a bit more relaxed; the slight crease between his eyeridges, less visible. "And then allow me, loud and clear, to press the trigger. Keep looking into my eyes!"
Far off in the trees, a bird sounds a single piercing note.
Untitled actually seems a little shaken by that, his LEDs flickering rapidly for a moment, the hint of a wince visible at the corners of his mouth. "I hadn't considered that possibility," he synths quietly. "I would prefer you didn't do that." He pauses for a moment, composing himself, but doesn't move. "The end of 'self' is the worst possible thing one could wish or inflict on me." His LEDs suddenly glow steadily, brightly, piercingly, those brilliant blue pinpoints locked uncompromisingly to your eyes. "I don't meant to be rude, but if you can look me in the eye and do such a thing...well...system help you."
Laelys nods his muzzletip, a few millimeters, barely moving otherwise. Your reaction is seemingly not unexpected. "You have my word that this won't change your willingness to defend yourself. But my word is all you have. That, and the promise I will let you use this device on me afterwards, if you wish." The expectant tensedness in his voice reminds of that of a young lover, about to receive his first kiss. "Do you say yes or do you say no?" His eyes of deep ochre never blink once, but remain there, staring into yours, almost hopeful.
Untitled's muzzle, oddly, curls up ever so slightly at one corner of his mouth, the faintest hint of a crooked smile, barely perceptible. "There are some whose word I wouldn't risk a clod of dirt against," he synths quietly. "I wish that wasn't so, but it is. However, whatever my failings...and I do have many...I do consider myself a fairly good judge of character." He dips his head slightly, just for a moment, not enough to remove his gaze from yours; he takes a deep simulated breath as he does so, then lets it out in a long sigh as his head levels out again, directing his LEDs straight into your eyes once again. "Yes."
Laelys is there, still looking into your eyes, looking hard. It's already over. Did he even press the trigger? There was that cold feeling to your forehead... Maybe just the tip of the barrel... With barely a glance at the fast scrolling readings on the panel, he shoves the device back into his satchel, and looks back up into your eyes.
Laelys takes a step forward. "Untitled," he says, emotion in his voice. "Why did you let me?" He lowers his snout, slowly, and then, eyes closing, presses it to the middle of your chest, his neck bent. Vulnerable. This is the first time he purposefully establishes physical contact with anyone here.
Untitled takes a little time to recognize that the process, such as it was, has passed; for a while, he just stands where he is, tense but stoic. His LEDs blink several times when you stow the device, but it isn't until your muzzletip touches to his chest that realization finally dawns. His eyes widen for a moment, then slowly close, transparent lids slipping over the black orbs, their blue light-points fading to black. He smiles, and lightly runs a hand along the back of your head as he synths gently, "I have many, many faults, dear. One of the worst is a lack of important confidences in myself. However, one thing I am confident in, as I mentioned, is my judgment of character. It's not perfect, but...I believed you. And it appears I wasn't foolish to do so."
Untitled chuckles. "And I admit I prefer to think the best of other sentients, when their actions permit it."
Laelys lets you carress his head. You've deserved to. Slowly, he brings his muzzle back up to yours from your chest, perhaps enjoying the closeness he now knows he can trust you with. A little astonished, maybe. "I didn't think you would let me," he admits quietly. "Do you wish to use the device on me? You can, if you want." He makes no motion to pull it back from his satchel, though; perhaps afraid to break the moment of odd closeness he's having with you.
Untitled grins just a bit. "Being skewered wasn't even a consideration, to begin with," he replies. "I'm very hard to damage, and I don't normally feel pain, you see. You DID give me a fright with your insinuation about corrupting my identity, I confess; my feelings on the subject are rather deep, and I fear I am not above responding to them viscerally." He shrugs, and rrms, "But then you looked me clean in the eye and said you wouldn't do that." Smiling slightly, he concludes, "You don't impress on me as an ice-blooded mindkiller, dear." He considers your offer for a moment, and synths, "I'm not sure. I don't know what it actually DOES. Would you mind explaining it to me?"
Laelys nods, taking a step back -- a small one, just enough to make room for his paw to get the device from his satchel -- and he brings it into view. "I know you are very afraid of change," he says, softly, almost like a confidence. "I am too. This is why I built this thing. It is designed to look frightening, altering, mind-changing." He hands the device over to you. "The spike is a hologram. It was your answer I was interested in." It's almost a whisper. "You said yes. You accepted to trust me fully. How could I not bestow the same trust on you, now?"
[Interestingly, at no point did Untitled seem to consider that Laelys might have had two devices in his satchel, the real one, and a fake one. That would have been Laelys through and through, had he really intended to deceive Untitled.]
Untitled smiles. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he replies. "I do seek to learn, to better relate to others, and to be better equipped to take away pain where I can. It's the purpose in life I feel closest to, at this stage, and certainly a kind of change." He shrugs, and continues, "But I value my identity, my individuality and free will, more than almost anything...perhaps even to a fault. The kind of change I fear is the kind of change that would leave me someone other than the 'Untitled' I make for myself..." Laughing a little, he rrms, "I hope that made some sense." He examines the device for a moment, smiles, and offers it back to you. "Thank you, dear, but I don't see any need for that."
Untitled grins cheekily. "Besides, you already KNOW it's not going to do anything nasty to you!"
Laelys nods, in his slow, ponderous fashion. "It does make sense to me," he says, stuffing the apparatus back into his satchel and padding over to sit at your side -- looking in the same direction as you. "I suppose that my concerns are relatively similar. This place seems to keep offering to trade artificial pleasures against free will. Ceaselessly. It is like a pressure on my mind. I don't know who I am; but who I am is all I have. My only worth. I don't want it to change." A glance, flicked sideways, seeks to catch your eye. "Oh, I know the thing is not going to do anything to me. But I wanted you to know you could check for yourself if you wanted."
[And then the talk drifted into personal matters. Closeness happened. Physical closeness. Laelys gave a hug. I kid you not.]
Night Gardens: Gate
The vast, linked caverns that make up the Night Gardens are alive with cool breezes and glimmering lights. Phosphorescent, bell-like blooms hang from the arching branches of trees, casting their eerie glow through the mist. Everywhere are pale, mysterious plants and fungi, all slender stalks and fleshy crowns. Small creatures - insects, birds and others - scuttle about the underbrush and flit through the dripping canopy. Fireflies wink as they sail overhead. The air is heavy with moisture, and with the perfumes of a million flowers... and it is thick with music.
A composition in itself, the Gardens resound with the nocturnal songs of its precisely tweaked resident creatures: the buzz and chirp of insects; the sharp, descending whistles of birds; the trills of amphibians matching one another in ever-shifting harmony. Even the plants take part in the symphony. Some have long, rattling seed pods or crystalline leaves that ring when stirred, like wind chimes. Others have hollow trunks which serve as resonating chambers for curious, long-legged birds, or as drums for the complex polyrhythms of woodpeckers.
The entrance to the Gardens is marked by a round arch of mossy stone. From here, steps lead and away into darkened tunnels. Through the arch, a pathway made of broad, flat stones winds ward through the thick foliage.
Untitled, after a boat trip and a good brisk walk, finally stops, and indicates your surroundings with a broad wave of his arm. "And here we are."
Somewhere in the underbrush, a cricket sings.
Laelys looks around with a strange expression; almost forlorn. "I think I like this kind of night," he tells Untitled, softly. And then there's a pause. His voice lowers considerably. "You know," he adds, a quiet murmur, "I think I have found a way to make sure that I can trust you." There's an edge in his voice, however, that isn't entirely discomfort.
Untitled nods, smiling rather dreamily as he takes in the sights and sounds, ones he's known many times before, but never gets tired of. "It's beautiful here," he rumbles quietly. Your words soon snap him out of his reverie, though, and he looks at you with an eyebrow arched, his LEDs flickering slightly. "The way you say that sounds troubled, and perhaps troubling," he rrms, frankly but not unkindly. "But I'd be happy to hear you out..."
Laelys looks at you, his eyes of deep ochre hard to read, and he slowly begins to extend his neck toward you, as if, uncharacteristically, about to touch someone, you, with his snouttip. But the moment passes, and he withdraws his muzzle. "I have made," he says, looking down, his tone almost unemotional, "something that can test for how much trust I can put in you. Let me show you." He takes a step back, on all fours, and reaches into his satchel, avoiding your eyes.
Untitled watches you with a cool expression, somewhat uncertain, but not disapproving per se. He synths, "I find it hard to believe such a thing can be quantitatively, scientifically measured, but then, many things about the technologies of this reality are hard to believe." He stands, patiently, watching to see what you'll do.
"That's the idea," says the draconid in a murmur, and he retrieves an odd looking device from his satchel. There's a flat panel with buttons and a display, connected through a limp tube to a metallic device that has a handle with a trigger, and a long barrel. He holds up the metallic part, pointing it upwards, away from you, unthreateningly. Then he presses the trigger.
Untitled LEDblinks. "What an odd piece of equipment," he synths. "Does it have a name?" He remains standing in place, assuming you'll request any action on his part that your process requires.
There's a pneumatic sound, and the tube gives a jerk as a long spike, the size of his palm at least, thrusts forward with a cold gleam, and then is withdrawn back into the barrel in the blink of an eye. And Laelys at last looks at you, straight into the LEDs of your eyes, expression unreadable as he takes a step forward, just one, and slowly, as if to make it plain he's giving you time to step back, he brings the barrel to your forehead. "Maybe it will have a name, very soon," he murmurs. "Look straight into my eyes. I promise you won't feel anything." Tensedness in his voice. He seems certain you're going to run away.
Zoe: "The Puzzle is infinite and sprawling, warmed by the sleeting Imago and fierce Onierocytes. Caught on one of the many struts that eclipse the light lies a star, resting. She's been burning for a long long time and she's finally taking a breather. She misses her motherthing and speaks to the Young Man, who offers her some of his spliff. She refuses, having no mouth to consume it with, and instead, asks him to describe it. He does, describing it like being turned into smoke and then solidified again. He plays music for her as the Puzzle turns away from the scene."
[How... timely. Thank you, Zoe. :)]
Untitled's expression does shift somewhat at the sight of that spike, one eyebrow quirking up at a rather sharp angle. When you point the barrel, from which that massive lancelike projection emerged, at his forehead, he frowns slightly. "I don't TRULY doubt your motives, dear," he synths, "But it seems only fair to tell you that, if I feel dangerous modifications being made to my infrastructural programming or AI core, I am quite capable of defending myself with a pike through my head. On the far-off chance that this has cause to concern you, perhaps you might want to reconsider your actions." That said, he smiles rather pleasantly, all his tension seemingly relieved once he's gotten the polite warning out of the way. "If all you need to do is puncture my nanomaterial, and/or do some data-gathering, then please, by all means."
Laelys nods, slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. The barrel is still held to your forehead, cold, menacing, but he remains perfectly still as he says, his lips barely moving, but with an odd sort of kindness in his voice, "I would like you to consider the possibility that this device may change you in such a way you would no longer want to defend yourself." His expression softens, subtly: the corners of his mouth are a bit more relaxed; the slight crease between his eyeridges, less visible. "And then allow me, loud and clear, to press the trigger. Keep looking into my eyes!"
Far off in the trees, a bird sounds a single piercing note.
Untitled actually seems a little shaken by that, his LEDs flickering rapidly for a moment, the hint of a wince visible at the corners of his mouth. "I hadn't considered that possibility," he synths quietly. "I would prefer you didn't do that." He pauses for a moment, composing himself, but doesn't move. "The end of 'self' is the worst possible thing one could wish or inflict on me." His LEDs suddenly glow steadily, brightly, piercingly, those brilliant blue pinpoints locked uncompromisingly to your eyes. "I don't meant to be rude, but if you can look me in the eye and do such a thing...well...system help you."
Laelys nods his muzzletip, a few millimeters, barely moving otherwise. Your reaction is seemingly not unexpected. "You have my word that this won't change your willingness to defend yourself. But my word is all you have. That, and the promise I will let you use this device on me afterwards, if you wish." The expectant tensedness in his voice reminds of that of a young lover, about to receive his first kiss. "Do you say yes or do you say no?" His eyes of deep ochre never blink once, but remain there, staring into yours, almost hopeful.
Untitled's muzzle, oddly, curls up ever so slightly at one corner of his mouth, the faintest hint of a crooked smile, barely perceptible. "There are some whose word I wouldn't risk a clod of dirt against," he synths quietly. "I wish that wasn't so, but it is. However, whatever my failings...and I do have many...I do consider myself a fairly good judge of character." He dips his head slightly, just for a moment, not enough to remove his gaze from yours; he takes a deep simulated breath as he does so, then lets it out in a long sigh as his head levels out again, directing his LEDs straight into your eyes once again. "Yes."
Laelys is there, still looking into your eyes, looking hard. It's already over. Did he even press the trigger? There was that cold feeling to your forehead... Maybe just the tip of the barrel... With barely a glance at the fast scrolling readings on the panel, he shoves the device back into his satchel, and looks back up into your eyes.
Laelys takes a step forward. "Untitled," he says, emotion in his voice. "Why did you let me?" He lowers his snout, slowly, and then, eyes closing, presses it to the middle of your chest, his neck bent. Vulnerable. This is the first time he purposefully establishes physical contact with anyone here.
Untitled takes a little time to recognize that the process, such as it was, has passed; for a while, he just stands where he is, tense but stoic. His LEDs blink several times when you stow the device, but it isn't until your muzzletip touches to his chest that realization finally dawns. His eyes widen for a moment, then slowly close, transparent lids slipping over the black orbs, their blue light-points fading to black. He smiles, and lightly runs a hand along the back of your head as he synths gently, "I have many, many faults, dear. One of the worst is a lack of important confidences in myself. However, one thing I am confident in, as I mentioned, is my judgment of character. It's not perfect, but...I believed you. And it appears I wasn't foolish to do so."
Untitled chuckles. "And I admit I prefer to think the best of other sentients, when their actions permit it."
Laelys lets you carress his head. You've deserved to. Slowly, he brings his muzzle back up to yours from your chest, perhaps enjoying the closeness he now knows he can trust you with. A little astonished, maybe. "I didn't think you would let me," he admits quietly. "Do you wish to use the device on me? You can, if you want." He makes no motion to pull it back from his satchel, though; perhaps afraid to break the moment of odd closeness he's having with you.
Untitled grins just a bit. "Being skewered wasn't even a consideration, to begin with," he replies. "I'm very hard to damage, and I don't normally feel pain, you see. You DID give me a fright with your insinuation about corrupting my identity, I confess; my feelings on the subject are rather deep, and I fear I am not above responding to them viscerally." He shrugs, and rrms, "But then you looked me clean in the eye and said you wouldn't do that." Smiling slightly, he concludes, "You don't impress on me as an ice-blooded mindkiller, dear." He considers your offer for a moment, and synths, "I'm not sure. I don't know what it actually DOES. Would you mind explaining it to me?"
Laelys nods, taking a step back -- a small one, just enough to make room for his paw to get the device from his satchel -- and he brings it into view. "I know you are very afraid of change," he says, softly, almost like a confidence. "I am too. This is why I built this thing. It is designed to look frightening, altering, mind-changing." He hands the device over to you. "The spike is a hologram. It was your answer I was interested in." It's almost a whisper. "You said yes. You accepted to trust me fully. How could I not bestow the same trust on you, now?"
[Interestingly, at no point did Untitled seem to consider that Laelys might have had two devices in his satchel, the real one, and a fake one. That would have been Laelys through and through, had he really intended to deceive Untitled.]
Untitled smiles. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he replies. "I do seek to learn, to better relate to others, and to be better equipped to take away pain where I can. It's the purpose in life I feel closest to, at this stage, and certainly a kind of change." He shrugs, and continues, "But I value my identity, my individuality and free will, more than almost anything...perhaps even to a fault. The kind of change I fear is the kind of change that would leave me someone other than the 'Untitled' I make for myself..." Laughing a little, he rrms, "I hope that made some sense." He examines the device for a moment, smiles, and offers it back to you. "Thank you, dear, but I don't see any need for that."
Untitled grins cheekily. "Besides, you already KNOW it's not going to do anything nasty to you!"
Laelys nods, in his slow, ponderous fashion. "It does make sense to me," he says, stuffing the apparatus back into his satchel and padding over to sit at your side -- looking in the same direction as you. "I suppose that my concerns are relatively similar. This place seems to keep offering to trade artificial pleasures against free will. Ceaselessly. It is like a pressure on my mind. I don't know who I am; but who I am is all I have. My only worth. I don't want it to change." A glance, flicked sideways, seeks to catch your eye. "Oh, I know the thing is not going to do anything to me. But I wanted you to know you could check for yourself if you wanted."
[And then the talk drifted into personal matters. Closeness happened. Physical closeness. Laelys gave a hug. I kid you not.]