Patron Saints/Cho Namhwa Log01

From Greenthings

[edit] Log of Forbidden Sorceries Experience

The Man sits in a room lit entirely by the Sun. Everything is white and clean, from the pure linen curains that edge the windows to the plush, thick carpet that covers the floor. The Man wears a matching outfit of starched and bleached linen, pressed into sharp corners around the open collar and unwrinkled open bottoms on the pants. Windows on the Man's left show the glory of the setting Sun, bathing the silhouette of the Pole of Earth in gold and crimson hues as it appears to balance on the mountain peak. The rays of light catch the glass of alcohol on the Man's left, making it look like it contains liquid gold. Beads of condensation and the Man's relaxed, but flushed, face indicate that it's probably alcohol.

The Man's quill brushes across a leaf of paper, finishing the last beautiful stroke with a clean flick of his wrist. The Man lays his quill to the side and peers at the paper with a great deal of satisfaction, and examines it careful. He appears completely deliberate in his motions, and doesn't appear to react at all when a musical clunk of wooden windchimes ring through the room.

The Man picks up his glass to take a drink, then rises when the windchimes sound out again. Document and glass in hand, he walks to the door of the building. He has two sips on the way to the door and swishes the drink around in his mouth each time. As he reaches the plain, white door, he sets his glass in his mouth and holds it firmly there with his lips, tossing back some more liquid as he keeps his eyes on the paper and moves his hand toward the door handle.

The door slides open to reveal an old friend of the Man. He appears to be of Western descent, with bleached hair and broad features. His obvious depression detracts from his inherent handsomeness, and his features look like they've been compressed into worry lines for months. The Westerner says, "Good morning," though it doesn't sound like he thinks of it that way.

"Hey, come in my man. I just completed the research, we can discuss it over some Scotch." The Man embraces his friend in a friendly hug, then motions him inside.

The Westerner's face relaxs into something beautiful, if only for a moment. "Thank you," he says appreciatively, then returns the hug. After they break the embrace the Man leads his friend back inside. The Man goes to the liquor cabinet and retrieves a blue jade bottle. The Westerner walks over across from the Man's chair and commands a like one to appear before him, which he then reclines in. "...So. You said the problem... was complicated, last time we spoke."

The Man pours a glass of Scotch for each of them, then hands him the document. "You know I'm better with my thoughts written down. Read it over and tell me what you think. How are you holding up, by the way?" The Man looks at his friend with concern.

The Westerner sighs heavily and takes a look at it. "The entire Deliberative thinks I'm an idiot. I can only wonder what they'd believe if I were less subtle," he replies as he scans the document. The Westerner absorbs the information quickly, eagerly. The document first gives several entirely theoretical ways to remake a higher soul if one cannot be found, as well as several entirely feasible ways of mimicking a lower soul. Second, it gives an analysis of the definition of 'the same person' based on unrelated multi-century studies of mortal lives and the workings of reincarnated Exaltation. The third portion of the treatise gives various methods.

"So, what do you think?" the Man asks his friend.

The Westerner pages through it very quickly. "Some of these I can try without too much attention falling on me..."

The Man, named Namhwa, begins to look a bit apprehensive, or perhaps distracted. His thoughts turn to his dog, which he doesn't see anywhere.

The Man named Namhwa glances at a mirror across the room and sees a stranger peering back at him. He's wearing finely made clothes that he's never been graced with before, and his acute senses pick out stylized dragons and starbursts woven subtly into the white fabric. His body, his face... All different. The Man breaks his gaze from the mirror to look back at the Westerner. "If there are any favors that I can call, then I most certainly will. I hope you'll understand that I would prefer if that stayed, here. You have free access to it, but you understand the sensitivity of the situation."

The Westerner looks at the Man, then nods. "I wouldn't expect you not to be secretive. I understand the troubles you're taking just to look this over for me, and understand, I will return this favor in full someday."

"Can you promise me that you won't take it?" The Man indicates the document.

"I promise you I will not take the book from you, yes."

"Thank you very much, my friend, I know she meant a lot to you."

"Where did Sunny get to, I wonder?" the Man named Namhwa mumbles. "Sunny!" he calls out in Seatongue.

Suddenly, the world around the Man named Namhwa bursts into ripples like a mirage, and the very air builds itself into a whirlpool of bent light. Namhwa stands up in alarm, apparently unaffected by the illusory turmoil. He turns back to his friend, who's now just a withered corpse laying there, Scotch in hand. The scene outside the window is ruins slowly being consumed by a roiling chaos. Namhwa begins to feel ill, and staggers to the window. It's a long drop to... something. Namhwa shives, and turns back inside.

The world rips open around him, and just to the side of Namhwa there's a giant spider looking right at him.

"What's happening!" he turns and shouts at the spider in confusion and anger.

But then he's on his knees, next to Sunny, and not sure if what just happened was real or not.

[edit] Raw Log

<Greenling> You're sitting in a room lit entirely by the light of the Sun. Everything is white and clean, and there are windows to your left, showing the world outside all the way out to the Blessed Isle.
<Greenling> Your clothes are much fancier than you're used to, and your drink is cold and alcoholic.
* Namhwa might not notice if he still has the book in his lap.
<Greenling> You're writing in it.
<Greenling> Or you were a moment ago.
<Greenling> Suddenly, a chime sounds.
* Namhwa looks at the drink and ponders the coldness in his belly with the warmth on his skin, then turns his attention to the chime.
<Greenling> Just a large, featureless white room, other than where you're sitting and the window. After a moment, the chime sounds again.
<Greenling> (you may do as you will, or try to "wake up".)
* Namhwa takes a moment to gather his thoughts and ponders the meaning of the chime. He picks up the glass and reads over his writing, splitting his attention in three directions.
<Greenling> That's the door chime. The Manse is probably expecting you to answer it. Your writing is largely on the nature of reincarnation.
<Greenling> The technical processes, if you will, and what this implies.
<Greenling> Also, this is damn good scotch.
* Namhwa reads over his writing and observes the flawless technique, almost lost in the style rather than the form. He picks up his glass and walks steadily to the door, taking another tasty drink.
<Namhwa> *style rather than the content
<Greenling> The door is also white and featureless.
<Greenling> Well. That impression is probably the knob-thinger.
* Namhwa holds the glass of scotch with his mouth and reaches out to open the door.
<Greenling> It slides open.
* Namhwa 's attention is still on the text, looking for flaws in his work.
<Greenling> There's another guy standing there, looking depressed; a large Western-looking man with pale, bleached-looking hair.
<Greenling> You recall this is a good friend of yours. The one you're writing the book for.
<Greenling> "Good morning," he says, though it doesn't sound like he thinks of it that way.
<Namhwa> "Hey, come in my man. I just completed the research, we can discuss it over some Scotch." I embrace him in a hug, then motion him inside.
<Greenling> He seems appreciative of the hug and the scotch.
<Greenling> "Thank you."
<Greenling> He walks over. "Chair," he says to the floor, and there is a chair, beside yours.
<Namhwa> "Absolutely. Grab yourself a seat and I'll retrieve the vessel and a glass for you."
<Greenling> (*nods*)
<Greenling> He sits in the chair.
<Greenling> "...So. You said the problem... was complicated, last time we spoke."
<Greenling> (... is someone logging this?)
* Namhwa pours a glass of Scotch for each of them, then hands him the paper. "You know I'm better with my thoughts written down. Read it over and tell me what you think. How are you holding up, by the way?"
<Greenling> He sighs heavily and takes a look at it.
<Namhwa> (I hope so! Otherwise copy/paste)
<Namhwa> (going to use the restroom real quick)
<Greenling> "The entire Deliberative thinks I'm an idiot. I can only wonder what they'd believe if I were less subtle."
<Greenling> (ok.)
<Namhwa> (I have to switch computers, be back in a second)
<Namhwa> (Should I sum up what the treatise says?)
<Namhwa> (Because I have three ideas)
<Greenling> (tell me your ideas.)
<Greenling> (first, the treatise gives several entirely theoretical ways to remake a higher soul if one cannot be found, as well as several entirely feasible ways of mimicking a lower soul.)
<Greenling> (second, it gives an analysis of the definition of 'the same person' based on unrelated multi-century studies of mortal lives and the workings of reincarnated Exaltation.)
<Greenling> (+s)
<Namhwa> "So, what do you think?" he asks his friend.
<Greenling> (the third is various methods.)
<Greenling> He pages through it very quickly. "Some of these I can try without too much attention falling on me..."
* Namhwa looks a bit apprehensive, then wonders to where his dog got off.
<Greenling> You don't see Sunny at all.
<Greenling> For that matter, you don't look like you, come to think of it, or what you see doesn't.
<Namhwa> "If there are any favors that I can call, then I most certainly will. I hope you'll understand that I would prefer if that stayed, here. You have free access to it, but you understand the sensitivity of the situation."
<Greenling> He looks at you, then nods.
<Greenling> "I wouldn't expect you not to be secretive. I understand the troubles you're taking just to look this over for me, and understand, I will return this favor in full someday."
<Namhwa> "Can you promise me that you won't take it?"
<Greenling> "I promise you I will not take the book from you, yes."
<Namhwa> "Thank you very much, my friend, I know she meant a lot to you."
<Namhwa> (May I bind him to his oath, or can he bind himself to it?)
<Greenling> (as far as you know, neither of you have the means.)
<Greenling> (:3)
<Namhwa> (Thank you very, very much :D)
<Namhwa> "Where did Sunny get to, I wonder?" "Sunny!" he calls out in Seatongue.
<Greenling> The world ripples around you.
* Namhwa gets up out of his seat.
<Greenling> Ripple, ripple.
* Namhwa looks concerned, and turns back to his friend.
<Greenling> You see a withered corpse laying there, scotch in hand. The scene outside the window is ruins slowly being consumed by a roiling chaos.
* Namhwa feels ill, and staggers to the window.
<Greenling> It's a loooong drop.
* Namhwa turns back inside.
<Greenling> The world rips open around you, and out of the corner of your eye you see a giant spider looking right at you.
<Namhwa> "What's happening!" he turns and shouts at the spider.