worldpainter: the start

[05:00] Ema Okabe says, "Either way, Lonan, we have strides to do."
[05:01] Ema Okabe says, "There's a tool we need that'll help top off something big, aaaaaaand I think you might like what it'll entail."
[05:01] Ema Okabe exclaims, "But we gotta make it first...!"
[05:03] Lonan Ivanovich says, "Mh."
[05:03] Lonan Ivanovich asks, "What do you need?"
[05:05] Ema Okabe asks, "Ah, it involves binding ideals to something... ethereal stuff. I figured you might know something about it?"
[05:15] Before the ever growingly oppressive room which the Xuantongian called home, here would she stride a presence that would call forth an ensemble into the fruition of an esteemed result.

The tiny figure shifts, moving yonder over toward a stuffed set of chests and crates; each holding a notably high amount of trinkets and items deemed somewhat rare within the scope of appraisal. Years of collection and years of growing her hoard has led things to this.

"We are going to make a magnum opus...!" Perhaps a plan long drawn out, merely being set into motion now. Mayhaps the death of a peculiar anomaly has finally snapped sense into the often short-attention span of the Okabe. "I've collected a lot of things over time, but I'm about to show you my two most prized treasures!! Not many knows about these, but they are easily my most powerful items, hee-hee!"

As her form returns from the pile of items, before her hands lie three things: a brush, a gem, and ore.

The ore, being likely not of importance, is placed upon the table. Its ethereal form easily make it clear that such was soulsteel.

However, the two that remained on her person would be presented, albeit harrowingly. Even with the provided trust, there still seemed to be some form of hesitance in parting with the items by touch.

"This brush... it'll be the tool that will make the wildest dreams come true...!" She chimed with a shrill and fervered pitch. "All we need to do? Is empower it...!"
(Ema Okabe)
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[05:35] A hand reaches forth to rest upon the brush at beckoning of the Okabe, despite their clear hesitance in doing so. He made no move to tear it away, merely giving it a brief twist within their grasp - an inspection, swift, and thorough, befalling it. Humming all the while, he'd finally break tune to speak out -

"The Painter, no? And that Demon."

He'd be foolish not to remember, even despite the lapse in memory borne of his dust usage. The soul-steel is similarly recognized, though not of the same journey - simply through knowledge, garnered over the years of which he'd traversed the lands. That gemstone, though? It was hardly something he could place to name. Nay - it bore presence and definition beyond simple understanding. Power, uncontested, within its respective path - and that was quite a tantalizing thing to him, it seemed.

It showed.

A blink. The budding desire to take what lie before him is washed away through sheer exertion of will - a smile, arrogant, cascading across his visage to convey that very same. A splayed hand releases the brush, held still within the Okabe's grasp, from his inspection - a nod to follow, ushering in understanding of the task at hand - a grand project it was, too - with full willingness to aid.

"What process of doing so?"

A simple query.
(Lonan Ivanovich)
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[05:48] "Yes!!!" She chimes, providing an assurance to the source of the brush. All too familiar. Despite the waning memories that the Okabe struggled to keep, something semi-recent would not be overtly be forgotten so easily.

After all, it was from that trip alone that has slowly sent her into the path she sought now.

"Now, I've been using this brush for so long... I think I know what's it missing now!!!" She chimes as a malicious smile creeps up upon her features. Not to Lonan, moreso in her usual smug presence.

"With this, we're making a world... something much better than what we have now... the Painter did something incredibly smart despite him being an absolute idiot in execution." Memories of their previous expedition to the painteresque world was harrowing yet vivid in memory. "But before we get too deep, we need the tool first."

Finally, her focus returns to the brush. "An implement that allows creation... is the first step...! Though this one is already powerful enough, my plans for it is to be the battery and remote."

"We're going to be playing with malevolent powers here... so I need your help in making the brush kinda like my paint." She announced. "Able to siphon magic, has a huge battery... can reuse that power to create... the perfect starting point, hee-hee!"
(Ema Okabe)
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[06:00] "You want to give it properties similar to Cold Iron." he adds, ascertaining that much relatively quickly. It was, near word for word, the same thing, after all. "I can probably do that." he follows up, nigh instantaneously, to clear any doubt that may persevere. A finger raises, at that -

"Why do you want to make a world?"

It was a simple query.

"I thought you quite enjoyed the state of things, here. Fun to watch, no? Big profit. Big entertainment."

Who could blame him for asking? In another world, what more would there be to gain, but what you could make? Perhaps Lonan, the realistic, dedicated sort that he were, deemed such things pointless - for what mattered, beyond what he could grip with his own two hands? That was basically everything, with how good he was, of course, but -

It was likely just a difference of ideology.

"Furthermore, do you want me to try to refine it like Tyrium, or do you have another idea?"
(Lonan Ivanovich)
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[06:08] With the assurance somewhat made present at the very least, the smile becomes more familiar. The genuine-esque one that she oft exuded whenever she gets her way.

"Pretty much refining!! The plan is to make sure the brush is a strong enough siphoner. So with that plus my tyrium paint, it'll be so powerful...!" She chimes. "I'm planning to imbue its bristles with the output, so the more malleable it is, the better!!!"

"And all this to power this baby." An idle hand shifts, patting the Avitas upon her other hand which cradled it oh so dearly. "This thing is going to be our ticket into this world. Once the brush is ready? We're going to go after the biggest source of magic we can find... and we're taking it, hee-hee!"

"We take it and use its power... it's foolproof!!" Her plan, to a degree, might have been haphazard and borderline mad, most especially with the lack of assurance of this working in the first place. And yet, the Proprietor was more than convinced of pushing through.

Only whence her reasons for such a thing are questions that pauses the Okabe as the soulsteel is handed over. "Eeeeeeh, all this is good. But you can only earn so much!! Here, everything you ever could want? We can make it, all with a single brush stroke, hee-hee!"

Much like the painteresque realm they have prior entered, it was such that Ema was seemingly desperate to attain.
(Ema Okabe)
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[06:30] Lonan allows his energy to flourish, at that. Confirmation of the objective was all he needed to carry through, for no goal lie beyond his grasp. One step forth, and another, a free-flowing and graceful thing that belied his drug-addled nature, sauntering and moving with a hum -

Gently, and with a tad bit less hesitation than he'd normally bare, would he seek to pluck the brush out of the Okabe's grasp. There's a moment, brief, to follow, as if beckoning forth refusal or denial unto his claim upon of the object, of which he was likely to just as casually refute.

"So it shall be done..!"

His poise beckoned forth acceptance of the inevitability - of his success, of which one believed loomed heavily upon the horizon. That energy he beckoned, cascading forth unto his form, began to splinter, at that. A vacuum force of domination, seizing dominion over what traces may linger freely within the air.

So casual was his act of doing so, that he'd speak further upon the matter, a simple query that sought further understanding of the long-term goal.

"So you want a power source to substitute for the sacrifices that the painter utilized as a source of fuel -"

Light splinters, fragmenting and crumbling away into differing lengths, each bore of the effect his pull had on the immediate locale. The tell-tale indication of magical siphoning, wrought forth with a degree of relative effort unto the duo, and with a fair effect upon Ema, no doubt, due to their placement in his immediate vicinity.

Thusly, did it coalesce. It channels through the object, an arcane focus that bore with it the ability of creation at its barest level - a tool of great power, simply in need of the appropriate sources from which to draw it - and with his ongoing refinement, did he seek to enable its ability to draw that forth on its own.

"And the ability for it to draw it forth on its own."

A brow raises.

"What if those run out, though?"
(Lonan Ivanovich)
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[06:40] Watching the act was... cathartic in a sense. So long has she been the subject of observance of her clients in creation. Yet now, she was merely the audience, beholden to the mystic arts of energy contortion. The bending of the essence of soulsteel, making such malleable and refined further not to harbor spirits like most would align to, but moreso to act as the bridge to siphoning them.

"Yes. His initial plan was... too hard. It leaned far too heavily on other people and all that. It's such a hassle!!!" She announced. "But no, see, I know exactly the powersource that we can claim that'll not only be long enough to keep what we want sustained... but it won't turn out to be a big bug creature either...!"

The brush is plucked, its newly refined bristles now taking the same presence as her paint. Siphoning and absorbing the very lifeforce from the Xuantongian's fingertips. Though this was likely dangerous, the sensation is almost ticklish to the one oh so hungry for the mana herself.

"Tell me, have you ever heard about the dreamscape?" She questions. "It's this weird dimension... where you can control anything into existence."

"It's a bit complicated, maybe I'll explain it another time. Buuuuuut I have just the items to maybe bend a small part of this realm and... make it our own...! Only then would the brush kick in!!"
(Ema Okabe)
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[06:52] Further and further the process advanced, the make of the brush being reversed. Within the metals, he'd instill a manifestation of his will - dominion, over what surrounded, and what magical essence may be directed unto it by the whims of the wielder. It's not until he finish that he allow the Okabe to reclaim it, a faint huff following in exhaustion that seemed just as easily lost with a huff of gold.

"If you're so sure, we'll see it to completion."

The Ookami pivots, turning to gaze -

"I haven't, no. I don't delve too deeply into the topic of realms, and other nonsense - but I assume it's necessary to complete all of this. The long term goal is just a realm, much akin to that Demon's own, right..?"

Without the person-paint.

"It doesn't sound -too- complicated."

Of course it wouldn't. Ripping one apart, ergo, what they'd done in the painted world, was likely far easier than building something so grand and vast.
(Lonan Ivanovich)
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[07:13] "You know, me neither," she chimes. "Buuuuuuuuut after talking to some people and... seeing things... I figured it might've been something was more useful than expected."

Perhaps the frequency of witches that attempted to whisk the Okabe into their covens were enough of a chance to catch a glimpse of where they outsourced their power.

Why go through hoops like that when one could simply force it into submission? A little ideal from the ookami that seems to have rubbed off willfully upon the Proprietor.

"Basically, that realm already is self-sustaining. All we need to do? We just need to put our flag into a small spot in that place!!!" Yet to the less mad and more rational, such would likely be easier said than done. Not to this one however. "We bend the world in that part to our will and make a small place for it!!! I've seen other people do it before, in-person even!!! So this? Hee-hee, this isn't impossible!"
(Ema Okabe)
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[07:14] Lonan Ivanovich exclaims, "Hmm!"
[07:14] Lonan Ivanovich says, "Alright."