So, a singularity walked into a bar... [Complete]
Character(s): chaos, open
Content: Entry
Setting: Vanaheim gate, H4 Cafe Ersesat
Time: Week 21
Warnings: None yet
Of all the myriad things chaos had expected to find on waking, this ranked somewhere near... nowhere on the list.
It was disorienting, to say the least, waking up lying in a grassy field outside a domed city, and not because he had never seen such a domed city before; he'd been to the Kukai Foundation more than once, after all. No; this was disorienting on a whole other level, because while the Foundation was decidedly abnormal, it was still part of his world and familiar.
This place... was neither, and the thoughts of its inhabitants were likewise alien to him.
Slowly, chaos let his physical and mental senses tell him what he needed to know about his immediate surroundings. This world was curiously finite; he could sense no other planets, nor large populations, nor anything else remotely resembling the galaxies-wide colonies humanity had in his own world.
How had he been brought here? Who had brought him? Why was he here? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he gathered himself up, finally putting forth the effort required to rise from the grass. Nearby was a line of people, moving steadily through the massive gate. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and almost all of them cut from the same cloth. Interesting, and more than a little disturbing. These were not people; not humans, anyway. Even Realians were more varied than these, and each of them had a subtle sense of wrongness, a flat quality that was hard to place.
He eventually joined the line, though, because it seemed to be the only thing he could do. As he reached the gatehouse, he was asked for his name and provided a journal by yet another cheerful, flat non-person.
Paixao; that was what the young blonde-haired gatekeeper had called the city. An interesting name, to be sure.
Half an hour later found chaos in one of the city's cafes, his pamphlets spread out haphazardly on the corner table he had staked out for himself.
"Your coffee, sir," said one of the establishment's waitresses, a cute young lady of the same general configuration as the rest of the city's natives.
"Thank you," he replied with a slight smile and nod as he accepted the cup. He offered her the last few credit coins he had; she smiled and walked away, leaving him to his musings and his coffee.
Content: Entry
Setting: Vanaheim gate, H4 Cafe Ersesat
Time: Week 21
Warnings: None yet
Of all the myriad things chaos had expected to find on waking, this ranked somewhere near... nowhere on the list.
It was disorienting, to say the least, waking up lying in a grassy field outside a domed city, and not because he had never seen such a domed city before; he'd been to the Kukai Foundation more than once, after all. No; this was disorienting on a whole other level, because while the Foundation was decidedly abnormal, it was still part of his world and familiar.
This place... was neither, and the thoughts of its inhabitants were likewise alien to him.
Slowly, chaos let his physical and mental senses tell him what he needed to know about his immediate surroundings. This world was curiously finite; he could sense no other planets, nor large populations, nor anything else remotely resembling the galaxies-wide colonies humanity had in his own world.
How had he been brought here? Who had brought him? Why was he here? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he gathered himself up, finally putting forth the effort required to rise from the grass. Nearby was a line of people, moving steadily through the massive gate. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and almost all of them cut from the same cloth. Interesting, and more than a little disturbing. These were not people; not humans, anyway. Even Realians were more varied than these, and each of them had a subtle sense of wrongness, a flat quality that was hard to place.
He eventually joined the line, though, because it seemed to be the only thing he could do. As he reached the gatehouse, he was asked for his name and provided a journal by yet another cheerful, flat non-person.
Paixao; that was what the young blonde-haired gatekeeper had called the city. An interesting name, to be sure.
Half an hour later found chaos in one of the city's cafes, his pamphlets spread out haphazardly on the corner table he had staked out for himself.
"Your coffee, sir," said one of the establishment's waitresses, a cute young lady of the same general configuration as the rest of the city's natives.
"Thank you," he replied with a slight smile and nod as he accepted the cup. He offered her the last few credit coins he had; she smiled and walked away, leaving him to his musings and his coffee.