A Regular Day At The Office

<Elea>
She is a wise Xoran and is short for her race, with a stocky, broad-hipped build. She is covered
head to toe in glossy, greenish-blue scales which fade to a paler teal under her chin and down her
front. Folded back along her head are a series of crests, spindly bones stretching thin bluish
membranes between them. Narrow, dark brown eyes look out from a round face with a short snout, and
small, lighter hued scales litter her cheeks like freckles. Her claws are short but well cared for,
and her tail is slender and tapering, easily as long as she is tall.

                         (sleek and fitted) : a high-collared, black leather top
                                (worn open) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
                         (on the left hand) : a silver wedding ring, inlaid with dark opal, symbol..
                        (covering the legs) : a pair of ash-grey trousers
                         (around the waist) : a tenebrous sash of the Conduit
     (wrapped several times about her neck) : an extremely long scarf with multicoloured stripes
                    (sitting atop her head) : a pair of heavy, crystal-lensed goggles

<Akary>
He is a wise Idreth that is wrapped up in a heavy longcoat, which covers most of his large frame. He
stands roughly eight feet tall, and a long aquatic tail trails behind his feet, held just above the
ground. The fin the runs along it continues around the tip of his tail to the underside. A few
patches of mottle green flesh ar visible on his head and neck. The profile of his head is a tapered
oval, giving him a blunt snout and deep maw. Two eyes, almost a metallic silver in coloration, and
edged in black, watch his surroundings vigilantly.  Between his digits, on both hands his hands and
his feet are thin blue membranes- webbing that hasn't fully formed.

              (pushed up onto his forehead) : a pair of whirring diffusal goggles
                         (covering one eye) : a luminous eyepatch
                         (worn on a finger) : a silver wedding ring, inlaid with dark opal, symbol..
                   (hanging slightly askew) : a weaponbelt with a lion's head buckle
                         (worn on a finger) : a Year 300 ring
  (stacked atop a black band on his finger) : a ring of the flood
                        (worn on the hands) : a ylem-binding gauntlet of the Parxian Order
                         (worn on a finger) : 4 thin black bands

(Cabalists): Anfini says, "Evening Commissar, Conduit."

(Cabalists): You say, "Eugh. Yes, it is that."

(Cabalists): Anfini says, "Quite right. In fact, could we perhaps share a little chat?"

(Cabalists): You say, "I don't see why not. Long as it's somewhere warm."
(Cabalists): Anfini says, "Warm. If we must..."
(Cabalists): Anfini says, "I've been staying in Senator Piper's home and she keeps that blasted
stove fed day in and day out."
(Cabalists): You say, "Does it need to be private? The Phoenix has a roaring fire, otherwise..."
(Cabalists): Akaryuterra says, "Hello, Anfini."
(Cabalists): Anfini says, "Not so much private as out of the publ-- eh. Private might be best."
(Cabalists): You say, "Well... the guild chambers, perhaps."
(Cabalists): Anfini says, "That would be suitable."


Chambers of the Cabal.
-----
\ | /
-[+]-

-----
A dark altar stands in the center of the pentagram etched on the floor, its round shape perfect. A
diagram of the seven Spheres has been etched into the barred metal door. An engraved silver bell has
been suspended on a graceful hook. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the
ground.
You see exits leading north, northeast (open pine door), east, west, northwest (open pine door), up,
and in.

<Anfini>
He is an experienced Tekal, a brutish mass of muscle, an exaggerated and distended manshape of
incredible breadth. He's nine feet tall if not even more, tall enough to make doors a real trial.
His body, grey-skinned and shot through with dim veins, is widest at the shoulders and chest,
tapering down into a well-built but considerably narrower torso and legs. Narrow eyes with no iris
or pupil are set into deep sockets above a nose like a granite carving, his face defined by sharp-
edged cheekbones and a powerful jaw. Pale blonde hair, very nearly white, explodes from his skull
like a ball of flame. At the topmost part of his gut, a dark, scarlike mark writhes and twitches, a
puncture of festering black against uncolored flesh.

                 (tucked in, cuffs cinched) : a simple beige dress shirt
                 (buttoned once, naturally) : a regal golden vest
                    (tucked into his boots) : a pair of brown leather trousers
                 (making each step a clink) : a pair of gray armored boots
              (residing in his vest pocket) : a chain bearing a brass compass
               (draped about him austerely) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
               (slung from shoulder to hip) : a silvery sash of the Cabal
         (set delicately over his left eye) : a fine dual-layered silver monocle

You have emoted: Eleanor sweeps Anfini with an appraising up-and-down glance. "I see you're keeping
on," she notes.

his veins standing out rigidly on his skin. He descends the steps three-by-three in a heavy, casual
gait, not glancing up until the last step. He gets one good look at you and Akaryuterra, and swears
loudly under his breath.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Well damned if ya aren't a walkin' mass'a biceps'r
somethin'."
Akaryuterra blinks.

Akaryuterra tilts his head at Anfini curiously, "Something the matter?"

"I knew it," Anfini whispers - even in a hush, his voice is like tumbling boulders - and gestures
vaguely at you, drawing his fingers between husband and wife repetitively. "I knew you would go all
the way, some day, Conduit. It was a hunch that wouldn't go away. The moment I saw those scales, I
KNEW it..." A sickly grin cracks his face, a joyfully-earned tear peeking from the corner of one of
his eyes.

"And you," Anfini turns his gaze to Akaryuterra, and is rendered functionally speechless. He says
all he needs to say in a see-sawing gawking motion.

You have emoted: Eleanor's crests jerk upward in a startled affectation- she attempts to hide it,
but there's a hint of a violet flush in her cheeks as she looks sideways. She opts to let the
conversation shift to Akaryuterra.

Akaryuterra turns and gives a fond glance to you. "She looks amazing, does- huh, hmm? Me."

Realization dawns on him as Anfini stares.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "It will be finished in a few weeks time."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Uh, I will, rather."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "I think I will have to raise my body temperature
though, the wetness gets cold."

Akaryuterra brushes his fingers over a patch of mottled green on his face.

"It's not finished now!" Astonished, Anfini juts out his lower lip and jaw in a comical expression,
eyebrows popping upward. He makes a show of slapping his face, shaking his head, and glancing
ceilingward, as if giving up on ever learning or understanding anything again. "I feel as if I
gathered you here for something wholly inconsequential, too rude in light of the explorations the
two of you have undertaken. I regret to inform you that... I need some help."

You have emoted: Eleanor inclines her head a little, absently adjusting the sit of the many loops of
scarf that bundle her upper body. "What do you need, doctor?"

Akaryuterra's cheeks take on an odd greyish tint as he appears embarassed. "Hardly, you will have
plenty of chances to explore your own form once you acend, I am sure. But in the meantime, we are
more than willing to help out."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Sure, wouldn't want ta have ta explain why there's a
smear somewhere called Anfini, right?"

"A smear, that's... quite what I'm afraid of," Anfini mutters. He begins to pace, trundling clumsily
around the great chamber, looking all too much like a huge, shaven bear on his hind legs. "It has to
be soon. You can feel out my essence, can't you? You must know there's too much in me, now. I
overdid it. It is most unkind to me..." Rubbing at his temple, he glowers, for a moment, staring a
hole into the opposing wall. He repeats, "I need... help. My mortality weakens me... I long to join
your kind, at last."

You have emoted: Eleanor purses her lips, glancing sideways- and up- to Akaryuterra.

Slowly, you say, "There isn't a great deal we can do aside from telling you what it's like... I
could demonstrate something like it, that's how I rearrange myself. Other than that, I think it
would likely be best to ask us all the questions you can, so we can try and help where you need it."

Akaryuterra opens his mouth the speak, but then pauses, his brow furrowing. He catches your glance
and mirrors the look, "And, to be quite honest, planning is not something that really...works the
first time through. Eleanor took some time to get to understand how she could manage. Without having
experienced it, we can not tell you what to expect, as you will not fully comprehend the sensations
that will occur."

"I understand that! All of it!" Anfini turns on the two of you, shaking slightly, his hands clasped
together behind his back. He's sweating like a pig, a nervous smile etched into his face. "The
procedure! Conduit, you described it as remaking yourself from scratch - how much of this is
metaphor?"


You have emoted: Eleanor is still for a moment, except for her crests, which waver halfway upward
before lying down again. "It is not," she says finally. "It's something akin to the black-wind. You
are dust. You are the last of your mortal consciousness before it disappears like smoke on the wind.
"

Akaryuterra nods gravely in agreement. With a not of cheerfulness, however, he reminds Anfini,
"Numerologists were the first, and you are among us. One such as yourself, with such a sense of
identity and will, you will, no doubt, be capable."

"Then I must be destroyed," Anfini utters, his expression going slack, save for widening eyes. He
says it again, lower now, a sepulchral echo of himself: "I must be destroyed. Utterly, completely.
My constituent makeup scattered entirely. I... I can do this, I think. I can do this. I've been
preparing for this for -years-."

You have emoted: Eleanor nods gravely. "You've heard the tales we tell about remaking Creation but
destroying this one to do so."

You say, "That is what you must do to yourself, if you want to be an Idreth."

Anfini looks away, unable to meet your eyes suddenly. "The tales frighten me. I am not just myself,
Conduit. I am everything I've influenced, all of my memory and memories I've created. If... if this
didn't work..."

You have emoted: Eleanor gives a hint of a razor-edged grin. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained,
Doctor."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "It's nothin' easy ta do. Fuckin' terrifyin', but
y'gotta do it. Y'wanna be Idreth, y'know what ya gotta do, an' what ya can't stop for. Fear."

"Can we...?" Anfini's lips flap a few times, making faint noises. He must be utterly drymouthed. He
points toward the steps he just descended with a nudge of his head, then stomps up the steps, taking
the initiative.

Anfini leaves to the up.

You have emoted: Eleanor glances to Akaryuterra.

A starlit observatory.
-----

 [+]

-----
Despite being dozens of feet under the ancient stone of the Citadel, if not more, this rather
remarkable domed chamber is lit by a permanent suffusion of silver radiance. A tall, silver-chased
telescope stands upon a tripod at the centre of a spiralling chain of complex geometric figures,
seemingly carved directly into the flagstones by a precise and exacting hand. Great arched windows,
thirteen in number, puncture the seamlessly fitted stone skin of the room's exterior, allowing the
light of a stark and alien sky to flood across the etched floor and the great lens of the telescope.
A small hatch caps a wooden ladder at the rear of the chamber, allowing a visitor to return to the
hall below. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Dr. J. R. Anfini,
 the Fixer is here. He wields a buckler in his left hand and a whirring staff of segmented machinery
in his right. Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart is here. He wields a stout glass in his left
hand.
You see a single exit leading down.

You have emoted: Eleanor glances upward, her crests wavering gently before settling again. "A fine
place," she says softly.

When the pair of you arrive, Anfini's hand is cupped in front of him, casual as can be, while a
miniscule point vibrates the air just above his palm - it would be familiar to anyone who has seen
Sciomancy in action. His breathing has accelerated, the slab of his chest rising and falling, a
macro-scale model of tectonic activity. "I just wanted to... speak my piece. If this doesn't work."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "I sometimes wonder why I do not spend more time
watching the stars."

"They're lovely, aren't they," Anfini agrees.

Akaryuterra turns to Anfini. "It will, Anfini."

You say, "Hard to worry about being a speck with all of them above."

"It would be a fitting end to join them, I thought," Anfini said. The point grows larger by the
second, expanding and distending slowly: where it was a speck, before, it now has a definite,
visible shape, like a small bean of null space in the doctor's palm. If it gets any bigger, he could
jeopardize more lives than one. "A long time ago, it was me and the big man... his name was Procell.
He was my best friend, loved me unconditionally... I repaid him by using him. He was nothing more
than a control in my grandest experiments."

You have emoted: Eleanor listens, her dark eyes moving between the point and the Doctor. She doesn't
interrupt, but the cant of her crests implies attention.

Akaryuterra watches Anfini, his silvery eyes following every motion he makes. His brow furrows
slightly at the mention of 'big man', betraying a small amount of concern, but none of it directed
at the small point.

Anfini lifts his hand, and gazes at the singularity closely, panting as he exerts all of his will on
merely keeping it stable, not yet a danger. "There were women... a beautiful Sentinel I brainwashed
and took for my wife, before I bored of her... killed her. Another lovely lass who meant take my
head as bounty. I took her heart, instead, kept it in a jar. Procell still has it. I took money from
people who trusted me. I lied about inconsequential things to get what I want. Comrades, is this a
poor time to feel existential about the whole thing?" He turns, addressing you and Akaryuterra face-
to-face, flourishing a glowing, vibrating hand, its flesh beginning to warp and shrivel on itself.
"Should I even bother trying to come back?"

You have emoted: Eleanor sniffs, her mouth set in a grim line. "We all do things we are not proud of,
 Doctor," she says, her voice steady and low. "The point is that we understand and metabolise it.
Improve. Go onward. The biggest waste is to not do so."

Akaryuterra's tongue slips out to lick his lips, displaying a similar mottled coloration to the
patches on his skin. "Agreed." "If I stopped tryin' cause'a some'a the stuff I did when I was young,
I wouldn'ta gotten far beyond thirty years." Having admitted that, he grins at Anfini, showing
unevenly sized teeth. "B'sides, now's the time ta remake it all anyway, right?"

"Is it? Will I still be me?" Anfini holds a steady gaze, glaring, it seems, at the both of you at
once. "Which is worse, that the marred slate of my sins should remain uncleaned, or that I emerge as
something less, something more, something different than I am now?" A wave of fury stabs at him. He
lurches forward, clutching his fist around the singularity, which throbs menacingly, spears of
unlight in black and violet shooting through the breaches of his fingers. "Which is it!?"

You have emoted: Eleanor straightens her back, stony-faced even in the presence of such an unstable
point of reality- and the singularity besides. "It is terrifying," she agrees. "Who can say if what
came back really was me, or the boys," she tilts her head toward the eel-like figure to her side.
"What data we have implies that it was close enough, at least, and that's the best result we can
claim."

Sternly, you say, "It entirely hangs on you, and your strength of will. Have you got the balls to
grab the fiber of your being and -do- something with it?"

You say, "You've lived within the means someone gave you for hundreds of years. Someone else's rules.
 Someone else's shaping."

You say, "You have your chance, now, to make it your own. Bugger your birthright, bugger the
Celestine, you will be something of your own making. Your own design. Or you will be nothing."

Akaryuterra states simply, crossing his arms in the face of the threat of the collapsing point. "You
know what I have to say on the matter, Anfini. I spoke it to you before, when you mentioned what you
would do, upon attaining Idreth."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Do you remember?"

Anfini quivers weakly. The entropic forces in his control are decaying rapidly, unstable Shadow
energy dissipating into the Prime Material, and as the conductor, it tears away at his very core.
"Please, friend," he says quietly, his rage subsiding, "Remind these old ears."

"You stand at the point of decision, whether to progress, or to cower in the face of potential
annihiliation." Akaryuterra begins, pointing to the energy Anfini grasps in his hand. "You currently
hold something destructive enough to most younger mortals to shreds, and do so without fear. You
have seen wars, seen terrible events and incredible leaps of progress, and these have become a part
of who you are." Without hesitation he takes a step forward, touching his lip and pointing to a scar.
 "I could heal this, but I do not, because it reminds me of something I have endured. It does not
matter if it is insignificant, or grand, everything we do shapes us. It is time for you to shape
some part of reality and leave your mark. That will become a part of the many trials and
tribulations you have faced and surpassed. It will simply become one more thing that makes up a part
of who you are. Do not shy away from what could be the greatest change you ever face. You can't
simply erase who you are, even if you wipe away physical imperfections."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Pretty sure y've never said exactly that b'fore."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "No."

Akaryuterra smiles wryly.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Not quite."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "The sentiment is the same though."

Anfini's beginning to slump, falling to one knee, supporting his immense bulk with a hand flattened
to the floor, the other raised just so in the air, undergoing a slow dissolve into uncharted regions
of thermodynamics. Sweat pours from him, his eyes half-lidded as he pants doggedly. "Commissar...
Conduit... you've both created a beautiful thing here, a real brainchild. The ultimate stepping
stone of life, absolute control. What does it matter, now? I can't turn back, and if I could... I
wouldn't. I was wrong to question, wrong to doubt." With tremendous effort, Anfini works himself to
his feet, rocking just once, and unfurls his palm. The singularity blooms. It is a flower of
destruction, an orange-sized sphere like a dead sun. "I'm... not gonna get sentimental, but if I
don't come back... I- I really admire you two."

The singularity pulses, and creates a tearing noise. Anfini lets go.

Anfini causes a point of singularity to ripple into existence. It pulses brightly and crackles with
potentiality.

You have emoted: Eleanor doesn't even take the Cabalistic half-step back, her eyes fixed on the
scene. She doesn't speak- she doesn't need to. Her gaze is steady, stern, intensely focused.

Dr. J. R. Anfini, the Fixer exclaims, "I reject my feeble mortality, then! I reject the Gods who
gave it to me! I spit upon the laws of physics!"

Anfini remains where he is, even as the null point hits the floor, floating there slightly. His eyes
are closed.

Akaryuterra returns his arms to his chest, crossing them as he stands in the face of the destructive
singularity Anfini unleashed.


*******************************************************************************
A single brilliant light flashes, preceding the sudden collapse of a point of singularity. The rapid
destabilization rips matter indiscriminately around it into strips of black shadow that disappear
within the void.
*******************************************************************************


It was no more powerful than any other, but its direction was unmistakable. In his final moment, he
absorbed the brunt of the implosion.

Where the Doctor stood there is nothing but air, air thick with puissant dust, and the unmistakable
scent of charred flesh.


A starlit observatory.
-----

 [+]

-----
Despite being dozens of feet under the ancient stone of the Citadel, if not more, this rather
remarkable domed chamber is lit by a permanent suffusion of silver radiance. A tall, silver-chased
telescope stands upon a tripod at the centre of a spiralling chain of complex geometric figures,
seemingly carved directly into the flagstones by a precise and exacting hand. Great arched windows,
thirteen in number, puncture the seamlessly fitted stone skin of the room's exterior, allowing the
light of a stark and alien sky to flood across the etched floor and the great lens of the telescope.
A small hatch caps a wooden ladder at the rear of the chamber, allowing a visitor to return to the
hall below. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Anfini is gone,
naught more than dust smeared on the walls. He wields a buckler in his left hand and a whirring
staff of segmented machinery in his right. Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart is here. He wields
a stout glass in his left hand.
You see a single exit leading down.


He is an experienced Tekal, but he isn't here right now. What are you looking at?

                 (tucked in, cuffs cinched) : a simple beige dress shirt
                 (buttoned once, naturally) : a regal golden vest
                    (tucked into his boots) : a pair of brown leather trousers
                 (making each step a clink) : a pair of gray armored boots
              (residing in his vest pocket) : a chain bearing a brass compass
               (draped about him austerely) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
               (slung from shoulder to hip) : a silvery sash of the Cabal
         (set delicately over his left eye) : a fine dual-layered silver monocle



You have emoted: Eleanor inhales slowly, looking upward, and then around herself.

Akaryuterra opens his eyes again as the 'dust' settles in the wake of the collapse. Hesitantly, he
also takes a slow look around, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air.

<pause>

Cautiously, you say, "He sure is taking a long time to get it together."

You have emoted: Eleanor frowns, her brow ridges pulling together. "You... don't think he--?"

Akaryuterra blinks, squinting at the particulate matter floating about. "Ah, well, no. I do not. I
remember at one point it took you several moments as well."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Maybe he just ended up bein' real small bits."

Akaryuterra reaches a hand toward the 'dust', but then stops himself.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Best not stick our hands in it, if it is him. It might
disrupt....whatever is going on."

You have emoted: Eleanor's crests waver, then hug close to her skull. "It did," she agrees, glancing
about again. "It did." She seems to be quietly reassuring herself as much as replying to the
conversation.

Akaryuterra's brow furrows and he casts another look around. Maybe he missed something in the first
scan of the room.

You have emoted: Eleanor glances upward, toward the stars. "And- and if he's done it wrong... he'll..
. likely come back out the cave." That doesn't seem to have a great deal of logic behind it, but she
says it all the same. "Ready to try again."

The dust dances and eddies around the room, acted upon by miniscule forces all around - in other
words, behaving as dust always does. In the next second, though, it becomes crisply visible as the
air itself seems to hang and darken. Anfini's essence can be felt, thrumming back into the here and
now like the warmth of a rising sun. What happens next comes without cohesion or rationality: one
moment, there is empty, dust-choked air frozen in time. Then, it is as if vision and sound itself
have shut down. There is a smear of pure black, a sickening second of absolute silence, and a
definitive stillness. Then Janus Anfini screams, and as if the very sound of his voice rearranges
reality to its original configuration, all is right again.

Their face set in an attitude of inhuman focus, Anfini's gaze turns inward. A low pulse of energy
shudders through your surroundings as Anfini is cloaked in a veil of hungry, crawling light, and
they manage a brief, choked scream before their ravaged form implodes under the pressure, reduced to
a drifting cloud of dust and scraps of unravelling matter. Seconds pass in choked silence before the
drifting dust that used to be Anfini abruptly congeals, shifting and boiling around a central point.
Within a handful of heartbeats, Anfini stands before you once more, wearing the unmistakable mantle
of an Idreth.

A shiver runs through Creation, rapidly swelling into a thunderous, echoing tone that heralds the
rebirth of the Idreth, Anfini.

<Anfini>
He is a wise Idreth, extraordinarily tall and lithe, graceful in his musculature. His flesh is pale and cold-toned, without

blemish or scar. Long arms reach nearly to his knees; slender, tapered pianist's fingers terminate into clean and shaped

nails. His face is severe and blade-edged, with a long, patrician nose, thin lips, and a pronounced jaw. His pale, orange eyes

are almond-shaped, deeply sunk beneath his brow. He has no hair on his head or face to speak of, with a bald, pronounced

skull.

                 (tucked in, cuffs cinched) : a simple beige dress shirt
                 (buttoned once, naturally) : a regal golden vest
                    (tucked into his boots) : a pair of brown leather trousers
                 (making each step a clink) : a pair of gray armored boots
              (residing in his vest pocket) : a chain bearing a brass compass
               (draped about him austerely) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
               (slung from shoulder to hip) : a silvery sash of the Cabal
         (set delicately over his left eye) : a fine dual-layered silver monocle

Anfini's clothing dangles loosely from him, having long before stretched and ripped out, hastily
tailored to fit a larger body. He stands like a statue in the middle of the observatory, staring
into space.

You have emoted: Eleanor's features break into a broad grin, her eyes lighting up with earnest and
unconcealed joy. She glances to Akaryuterra briefly, her crests perking up, her manner breathless
and excited- and then she looks back to Anfini again, taking a half-step forward, but not speaking
just yet.

Akaryuterra's expression lights up, "Fuckin' knew it!" He throws his arms up and gives a few
congratulatory claps as gets a look at the new being before him. "I, well, congratulations Anfini."
He smiles a toothy smile of fine black teeth.

Anfini was never a small man, but he fits into a door now, having reset to his original size. He
looks pale, trembling, his skin clammy, but a near-painful smile breaks out across his face. He
winces continually, as if pained even by the dimness of the chamber. "Hello," he whispers, "I think
I feel like me."

You have emoted: Eleanor seems to note the quietness- she steps a little closer, but keeps her own
voice carefully pitched low and gentle as she says, "You look to be in one piece. Can you hear me
alright?"

Akaryuterra bends his knees, lowering himself closer to Anfini's height- though he doesn't quite
manage to get eye-to-eye, for obvious reasons. "Hopefully his senses are not scrambled like yours
were, hmm?"

Anfini squints at you and blinks slowly, an exaggerated scrunch of his entire face. He swerves
backward, scanning over you and Akaryuterra repeatedly, letting out a strained sigh. "Good...
heavens," he says, still whispering, a bit too quickly, as if he hadn't heard a thing. Back to you
again, he stares at you from what would be an uncomfortably close distance to most people, before
shrinking away, clamping his eyes shut. "Hhhow... do you process this?"

Softly, you say, "Take your time. Don't fight it or look for something you recognise from before."

You have emoted: Eleanor's voice is soothing, just above a whisper. "Let it come to you."

Akaryuterra tilts his head, "A good question. From our experience, it seems like each of us
experiences things a tad differently." In a matter-of-fact tone, he explains, "I was nearly blind,
for example."

Aside, you say, "You didn't have -eyes-. He's got that one cornered at least. And a mouth."
Akaryuterra purses his lips. "Well, yes. Congratulations, you did better than I did with your first
attempt at creating senses."

Anfini opens his eyes again, keeping them to thin slits, this time training them on Akaryuterra.
Uncannily, the irises begin to flicker, like the on-and-off of fireflies, a rhythmless phenomenon he
seems entirely unaware of. "Oh, th- that makes more sense... I think it was too wide a spectrum...
you're all green, now. I... I did it then! Ha, ha!" He bursts into convulsive, relieved laughter,
stumbling as he does so. "It worked! It worked, it wooaahh... aAAGHHH!"

Anfini's left arm bursts apart abruptly. Following a heavy splash of blood, thick, intestinal tubes
and unnatural growths of bone explode forth from the orifice, visceral growth that unfurls from his
body, settling into a fat, spiraling cord of carnage, like a coiling snake.

You have emoted: Eleanor had been reaching out to steady Anfini, but at the sudden rupture she rears
back a bit, eyes wide. "Severn's blood and bastards!" she exclaims, teeth bared in a grimace.
"Doctor! I urgently suggest you get a grip on that!"

Glancing at the back of his hand first, Akaryuterra takes Anfini literally, "Oh, has it spread so
far?" As soon as Anfini's arm explodes, however, his attention is immediately back on the newly
formed Idreth. "Holy fuck!" Ryotega exclaims, leaning the boys back from Anfini a little bit. "Yeah,
shit, good idea there Chicky."

The outpouring continues, foot after foot of blood vessels, veins, bone and shapeless organs with no
names unfurling from his shoulder. Anfini begins to stagger, listing aside from the sheer weight of
it, as his innards begin to fill up a significant corner of the observatory. The grisly nightmare
eventually slows and stops completely, leaving the doctor gaping wide-eyed at the mess to his side.
He struggles for a few moments, gasping in pain, but it seems to subside, leaving him merely panting,
 and then even that goes away. In a weak voice, he says, "I... I think it's okay... it's okay..."

You have emoted: Eleanor doesn't seem to be panicking, but there is a grim and urgent set to her
expression. "You're alright," she reassures, "You're just having an issue. Try and get a good,
steady mental image of what you settled into before that went off."

Akaryuterra's silver eyes are wide open, and he watches Anfini with a strange sort of detachment.
Part of his expression could be taken for a sort of dumbfounded horrification at what is happening.
Slowly, however, he does extend a hand in the direction of the mess. "Fascinating." "What the
fuck're ya doin'?!" In an attempt to explain his actions, Akaryuterra points, "The mass, the growth,
it is...far more than a body of his size should be able to simply eject. It is some kind of mutati-
I don't give a fuck, keep our damn hand out of it."

They take a couple steps back as Ryotega wrangles in Akaryuterra's hand.

"I stopped thinking about it," Anfini says. There's no mistaking his fascination, certainly. He
stares at the biological ruin about him, clenching his teeth, and leans forward a bit, frowning. The
glistening mass quivers along its length, a ripple that travels the spiral from his shoulder all the
way to the end of the path. Then, with horrible, subdued slurping noises, it begins to retract back
into his arm. Anfini is totally calm, now, the picture of confidence. "It -is- too much mass. I must
have stopped considering my... my weight, or the thickness of the skin, or... by gods! There's so
much to consider!"

You have emoted: Eleanor nods, watching the reversal with clinical attention. "You'll have a lot of
issues to start, probably," she confirms, nodding. "Until you manage to get that facet of
concentration onto a subconscious level."

Akaryuterra releases his own hand, regining some of his own composure, "It is amazing. I have never
seen something like that before. How can it simply...materialize." He stares at the spot where the
mess used to be, appearing toughtful. "Okay, first off, we aren't fuckin' researchin' that. An'
spewin' organs outta ourselves left'n right ain't a damn party trick ta pick up. Fucksake." Ryotega
rants. It's clear some form of exchange happened internally before this outburst.
Deepest Stygian night steals over the land as the symbolic hourglass empties and turns, ready to
begin a new day.

Akaryuterra shakes his head, "No, I was not thinking about that in the least, but the rate at which
it is produced, it is so accelerated." Reaches up and drags a hand down his long, smooth, face.
"Really. This is the first shit ya think about? What in the halls is wrong with ya?"

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Nothing, it is simply that a rate of change- or growth-
 like that would also accelerate our own change process. A day long transformation, as opposed to a
week or two."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Until our fuckin' heart'n lungs just decide ta up'n."

Akaryuterra gestures wildly at the floor, coming up with nothing to describe the outpouring of
fleshy material. "Blegh!" He exclaims. "What in...IT SHOULD STAY IN US!"

Anfini stares at Akaryuterra in stark disbelief, even as roll after roll of flesh-tentacle continues
to recede into his body. Where it goes is anyone's guess, for he doesn't seem to be getting any
bigger. "No, no, it was..." Frowning considerably, he takes on a momentary look of intense
discomfort. "Generative in nature. Just as I appear to be deconstructing it n-- gentlemen! Get ahold
of yourselves!" He levels a stern, authoritative look at Akaryuterra, which is impressive
considering there is currently a side of beef squirming its way back into his body. "Just a rookie
mistake, right?"

You have emoted: Eleanor cracks a grin again, her eyes twinkling. "Everyone falls off the horse the
first couple of times."

Anfini's stern glance has no effect, nor elevated voice. Akaryuterra brings a hand to his chin, then
crosses his arms, then heaves a groan of exasperation. "I'm gonna fuckin' punch ya, just so ya know.
" Ryotega declares flatly to Akaryuterra. "The accleration of t-" he begins to argue, halting
instantaneously to glance to Anfini. "Generative?"

Anfini's mouth opens in a silent gasp, a slow-motion yawn as the last of the disgusting bulk
retracts itself into his gaping arm. He stares at the missing limb, completely at odds with what to
do with it, but it seems to be sorting itself out, the puncture puckering itself together, a
wriggling pink mass extruding itself from the stump. He chooses to look pointedly away from this. "I.
.. think I stimulated muscle growth," he says curiously. "Poorly. Can I just say... I'm really glad
you're all here right now?"

Calmly, you say, "It's probably best it was us, and not someone else."

You say, "I don't imagine they'd respond well to..."

You have emoted: Eleanor gestures vaguely. "Teething problems."

Anfini's hypothesis as to what caused the problem only spurs Akaryuterra's interest further. "Yes,
exactly. If that i- ah. If you are correct...could," he begins, pausing as he comes to odds with
himself over his following request, "Study some of- Akary. Fucksake, if ya fuckin' vomit up a heart,
or send a lung out my arm, I am gonna tear ya a fuckin' new one." Even now, as their discussion
continues, his lips move but his eyes remain on Anfini, awaiting a response to the question that
need not be fully uttered. "An' who the fuck're ya ta be askin' ta study 'im like an animal. Let 'im
fuckin' figure it out 'imself first. Shit." As the argument breaks down into Ryotega's angry
grumbling, a sigh breaks up the constant stream of black utterings and curses. "I apologize." he
says solemnly, sounding a tad ashamed. "I think perhaps my recent studies with the eels have become
something of an irreversable step into particular avenues of research."

"From this point, there are no more apologies," Anfini says solemnly. His voice has come to him, the
old voice, thin with a hint of rasp. "I didn't realize how significant this was until I experienced
it firsthand... we're really creating something new, here. No more apologies, for every great
conquest and pitfall is a step forward." He flashes another of those smiles that seems to sneak up
on him, pitching forward dramatically, as if about to burst into tears. "I will help you... I will
make up for my sins by helping you build a better person. I'll do anything."

You have emoted: Eleanor tucks her hands into her pockets, observing the exchange with a quiet
interest. "You're not making up for anything," she says quietly. "You are new, now. Fresh. The Mhun
named Janus Anfini was killed by a singularity."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Spectacularly so."

"I don't remember a moment of it," Anfini admits. "I hope it comes back... it would have been useful
to study. Mhun... I was born a human, did you know that? How very strange." He goes quiet, staring
at things, especially the two other examples of powerful, self-constructed biomass in the room with
him. Again, his irises flicker back and forth, rapidly switching between a state of glowing and not
glowing, eventually returning to their non-luminance. "You both look quite beautiful from certain
viewpoints, do you know that?"

As if attempting to bargain with Anfini for the acceptance of his request, Akaryuterra "Of course,
if I can determine anything about it, I will certainly tell you of my findings. Any information is,
of course, yours, since it was achieved through your generosity." Akaryuterra smiles sheepishly.
Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Certain viewpoints?"

You have emoted: Eleanor cracks half a grin. "Anything in Creation does, if you tilt your head just
so. And you'll see more of it now."

You have emoted: Her voice continuing quietly, but with a tone of firmness and not entirely
comforting fondness, Eleanor says, "You are your own mark on Creation." She leans in a little, her
gaze intense. "You are one of us, now."

Akaryuterra offers hand to anfini, his flesh a half and half mix of mottled green and transparent
grey flesh. "Indeed. Congratulations, Anfini. Well done."

Anfini's arm has reconstituted. It looks good as new, save for a fat, pink seam that even now is
fading fast. He is showcasing a tendency to get stricken into silence, staring now at you, his eyes
doing their firefly trick every time you moves. His mouth works independently before he can actually
muster his words. "One of you... you mean... I belong." In a surge of motion, he takes Akaryuterra's
hand, pumps it tightly, then reaches out, clasping him with a newly regrown arm, pulling the huge,
mutated Idreth in for an embrace, one he tries to drag you into as well.

You have emoted: Eleanor allows herself to be collected for the Idreth group hug, wrapping an arm
around Akaryuterra and a gentler one around Anfini, still cautious of unexpected fragility.

Akaryuterra goes with it, spreading his arms to embrace the two of you in his substantially longer
arms.

Anfini makes it a lively, friendly thing, clutching to the two of you for a while, uttering subdued,
relieved laughter, noises that sound uncannily like suppressed pain. He breaks out of the group hug
soon enough, catching onto previous skeins of the conversation. "Just say the word, Commissar. I
have nothing on my plate that need supercede this research. And shit, I don't seem to have a problem
giving out samples." Something strikes him as odd. He pats his head, making soft slapping noises. "I
can't figure out how to grow -hair-."

"Give yourself some time to acclimate," Akaryuterra offers helpfully. Looking Anfini over a little
more acarefully now, he asks, "Am I mistaken or are your arms...longer?"

"It doesn't look strange, does it?" Anfini holds one aloft, fanning out his fingers in a feminine
manner.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Think'a it this way. Strange in comparison ta what?
Then, ignore that shit, because there's nothin' ya c'n compare yerself to now."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Indeed, not even any two Idreth are alike."

You have emoted: Eleanor eyes Anfini, her crests twitching as if in thought, up and down and
sideways fractionally. "You'll learn hair," she suggests. "It'll be a matter of figuring out how
you're best modified and then trying things till you find something that works."

Anfini goes back to rubbing at his scalp, a little unnerved, it looks like, by the feel of it.
"Ideally, I'd like to look like a human, but... if I'm going to get to control the outcome, let it
not be said I emphasize form over function." His attention is beginning to slip as he stares around
the room, leaning in close, gazing at things. "I need a goddamned drink... I can't figure -anything-
out until I get used to just... it was what you were saying, Eleanor, about having to focus all the
time, concentrate on your corporeality. It's taxing."

You have emoted: Eleanor raises her eye-ridges slightly. "Given what we just witnessed, you may wish
to have your drink in private." She coughs politely. "Just a suggestion."

Akaryuterra bursts out laughing at the realization of what an Idreth of Anfini's persuasion
could do while drunk.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Yeah, damn, people think they got it bad when they
just get stupid when they get drunk, y'got a whole other problem there."

Akaryuterra reaches out and pats Anfini on the stomach. "Now that I know that wasn't gonna escalate
ta ya explodin' inta a fuckton'a organs, I'm will- wait.

Akaryuterra ponders the situation.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "That'd just give Akary ideas."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Anfini could appreciate company, I am sure."

Akaryuterra narrows his eyes.

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "I'm not sure if yer tryin' ta look out fer Anfini, or
weasle yer way inta weird drinkin' situations."

"No, no, heavens, no... I just want to lay down and try to get control of my visuals," Anfini says,
and as if to emphasize the struggle, probes wearily at his temple, glancing away, the colors of his
eyes flashing on and off. "I'm sorry, it's not that I don't appreciate it, it's just... this is so
much to take in." A shiver rolls through his body, his face paled. He looks to Akaryuterra, then you,
 as if seeking approval.

Akaryuterra holds his hands up, backing off just a little. "Y'don't have ta tell either'a us twice,
we know how it is."

You say, "I imagine you'll spend some time just figuring out how to use what you've built."

With a smile, you say, "We're here to discuss any issues you're having."

Anfini nods tiredly, looking for his staff. He crouches down to collect it, favoring it as a walking
cane as he moves himself on legs he's never used before. Taking a slow stroll around the room, he
seems confident enough to try the stairs, and stops at the top. "I'm sorry if I got ah... mushy,
there. I don't really do family. There were just... certain chords played for a moment, is all." He
elevates his chin proudly, staring down the steps.

You say, "Neither of us do either, for various reasons."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Mmm."

Akaryuterra Ryotega Junakutz-Lionheart says, "Welcome to the family, as it were."

Akaryuterra smiles at Anfini.

Anfini pinches the bridge of his nose, turns his head, and tries not to laugh. "Shit. I'm getting
out of here, I'm hearing crazy talk." With what could only be termed a bashful smile, he snaps a
casual little salute toward the two of you, and disappears down the stairs.

Anfini leaves to the down.