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| Acmlm's Board - I3 Archive - - Posts by Zephi |
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Zephi 0                 Since: 02-15-06 From: EST Last post: 5925 days Last view: 5909 days |
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| Everia glances from her planisphere to her map of Sibylea to her map of the stars to her notebook to her frying pan and back again. Something is definitely amiss with the situation... despite the fact that the fish among these waters are veritably delicious.
At the fyrisee of 127 sen south and farasee of 1 lysra 92 messet west, her readings of the moon Keiora had begun shifting subtly from where they should have been. Everia frowns. Discrepancies between predicted values of moon locales across the Celestine had increased fairly steadily, until, strangely enough, Niavu, Tsan, and Gidon were also grossly misaligned, while Keiora was... where it should have been? Everia totally doesn't understand why this would happen. Figures from the numerous reference books she had taken from the Academy had been calculated taking parallax, atmospheric shear, chronological reference, and all other factors into account, hadn't they? Everia sighs, idly flipping over the exotically pigmented fish whose scrumptious corpse brings gaudy teals, crimsons, and ambers to this small niche of the kitchen like spilt paint in an artist's cellar. She takes her hand off of the spatula, pulls back her bangs, and concentrates upon her notes once more. The unnaturally clear skies and still waters make Everia immensely suspicious. Late last night, when few of the crew had been awake to notice, she had conjured a beacon spell. She had noticed immediately that the light she had summoned refracted severely in the cloudless night sky. The exact angle had been impossible for her to determine, but it definitely had been there, and the possibility of visual deceit now is both frightening and exhilarating. “Light and sight,” Everia murmurs with an uneasy smile, poking the frying fish with the corner of her spatula, “Are our beautiful untruths, aren't they?” She drops the handle of the spatula and walks over to the kitchen's only window, which is a small circular one about five feet off of the floor. The crown star Aekria, which is rising to its pinnacle, bears down upon the still waters with searing ebullience. Everia squints her eyes to prevent being blinded by the shimmering mirror of the sea. “But the stars never lie, do they...?" She asks herself, "It was I who failed to understand.” It is a legitimate regret; she took on the job of navigator on the Ryonid thinking it would be an easy first job. After all, no more than four months ago, Everia had graduated third in her class from the Celestine Academy. But now they meander aimlessly across uncharted waters, all because of her fool decision to cut straight across Vynsaa Shom. Everia frowns, feels her skin itch with a nagging, frenetic doubt, and then shakes her head vigorously. Doubt isn't going to bring truth. Ah, but it is a tad hot, and the sleepily ambling breezes above deck give Everia no respite down in the kitchen where the oven makes her want to dunk her head in ice. She settles for dunking ice into water and then dunking that water into her mouth, while stifling the fire since the fish is nearly ready. As the simmering fish quiets with the softer fire, Everia notices the familiar rapid stride of her fellow navigator Kinst, a veteran of The Rain, coming from down the hallway, striking softly like the first drops of a gentle drizzle. As he enters, the pitter patter growing heavier, Everia watches him enter the doorway via his reflection in the nearby window. It is wavering and indistinct, but she can discern his soft, azure eyes themselves discerning the fish she had prepared. Those eyes are like rippling windows into the soul of a blank face so angular that it appears like a finely chiseled stone draped in skin. Despite the heat, Kinst is wearing the same attire he appears in during cold nights: plain blue pants tied with a nondescript belt of tan linen, a pair of boots the hue of alpine needles partially obscured by the pants, and a shirt of similar hue underneath a vest that was the color of the most fathomless oceans. Well... whether or not he admits being so, under such heavy clothing, Kinst must feel irritatingly warm. Everia turns around and smiles, "Hey, Kinst, here for food I suppose? Well," She turns back to the counter and opens a cabinet overhead for a cup. Finding one, Everia spins it in her hands and places it on the table, allowing it a glass clink, "It's not ready yet, so would you like some ice water while we wait?" "Absolutely," Kinst replies, the lines of his lips twitching into a barely perceptible smile. He really should do that more often... but, nope, he's much too stoic, despite his being a member of The Rain. "You know, there's probably a vast market for some way to make these sea voyages more comfortable." He approaches the window steadily, looking out at the sea. "You'd think by this point in history, we could find some shelter from such accursed heat." "I guess Aekria just loves us so," Everia grins, filling the glass with ice cubes and water, then handing it to Kinst, "Still, you're right. Expending magical energy to create ice and cool winds is such a waste." "Yes indeed," Kinst receives the glass with a grateful nod, then takes a pensive sip. "We humans are such vain, greedy creatures, don't you agree? We're ever seeking after luxury, even when we chide each other over our wastefulness." He raises the glass to his eye level and stares at the cubes within, mumbling, "Even my best works of ice are used once, then melt away." Is he always so lost in critical musings on the natures of existence and mankind? Not always, but quite often, as Everia observed ever since she met him quite a few years ago, before she had become a certified navigator. She always felt slightly awkward speaking with Kinst because of his tendency to subtly aggrandize the task at hand into an overarching picture. Oh well, one cannot always choose her co-navigators, and interesting conversations every once in a while aren't so bad. "All existences," Everia shrugs, "Can never be truly 'created' or 'destroyed'... at least, that's what I learned at the Academy." Finding that Kinst is still gazing out the tiny window, Everia sighs and turns back to the pan, finding that the fish is ready. "We merely change..." Everia mutters, and then continues clearly, "And this existence here is ready for eating!" Kinst turns, a smile creeping across his face once more. "Already? I had resigned myself to a horrible fate of starvation," He jokes, "But then the exotic prismatic fish was delivered unto my table by the angel of ice water and stargazing." Everia blushes and frowns simultaneously yet imperceptibly as Kinst drinks another mouthful of water, leaning against the wall, then continues, "An icecube may be only for an instant, but the memory of a good meal is forever." Everia doesn't reply immediately, but procures a knife from a nearby drawer and with it swiftly slices the cooked fish into a multitude of pieces. She slides the pieces onto several small plates, and then takes a pair of chop sticks from the drawer. This done, Everia takes a plate in one hand and makes for the door of the kitchen. Then she stops for a moment and turns around. "Memories are sublime," Everia nods, "But the future... is so much more exhilarating, isn't it? I'm... sorry about my misnavigation, but... maybe a new constellation awaits us." Everia sighs and gives a wry smile, "I'll be on deck." (edited by Zephi on 10-08-06 09:54 PM) (edited by Zephi on 10-10-06 03:14 PM) |
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Zephi 0 Since: 02-15-06 From: EST Last post: 5925 days Last view: 5909 days |
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| When Everia was young, she loved the sea. But as she came of age, this love was forgotten for that of the stars... and now, as the Ryonid surges forward on the unnatural majesty of Kinst's spellwork, she isn't quite sure. The whistling whispers of quiet vapor are relaxing, the ripples and waves that they have yet to cleave are mesmerizing, the subtle scent of this exotic, clear reef-ridden water is intoxicating, and the mysterious mirage of the land ahead hypnotizing. But it all seems to her as the trappings of a beckoning dream, or a seductive sepulchre.
Light cannot find the most precious pearl in the sea, yet the most spectacular supernova always gleams brilliantly in its martyrdom, announcing itself ages after its death to the entire universe. Perhaps she no longer loves the sea now that she is mature enough to realize that the soul of it is deep, veiled, hidden by the indistinct mirror of the surface. Humanity revels in its supposed mastery of this mirror, upon it bartering life and death through seafood and swords. Yet the soul remains unseen. Or perhaps it is merely humanity that is blind. Everia chuckles silently as she leans on the rails of the Ryonid's forecastle. Such a thought is what Kinst would probably offer in response. Everia glances back; said contemplative co-navigator is currently lying idly with his back on the planks of the forecastle, not two meters away from where Everia is standing. He is watching the sky; she is watching the sea. They should really trade places. Everia considers speaking to him, since he probably hadn't noticed her even while coming to the forecastle to work with water, but decided not to. After wielding magic so, he is probably apt merely to make some witty inquiry of her. So Everia remains silent. The boredom is mind-numbing, and Everia longs to do something, analyze something, anything that matters, anything but stand, breathe, blink and watch. She would ask Captain Eysa for further orders, but her navigation failures do not lend her much confidence in speaking with her employer. In actuality Everia gives herself too little credit. After all, it was her guidance during the first week of the voyage that led the Ryonid to cross straight through the Faihaut Shom, an ocean most vessels avoid due to legends and hurricanes. Crossing safely clipped an entire month off of the time of their voyage. In her listlessness, Everia spins a simple light spell from her fingertips, muttering the incantation as well in order to conserve energy. After a bored twirl of her fingers, she directs a simple, thin beam of light of all wavelengths into the water. Or whatever this clear liquid is, because it is certainly not water; even Everia's naked eyes can tell that its index of refraction is noticeably less than that of water. It cannot be some natural discrepancy due to temperature or salinity as the difference caused would be negligible compared to something a human eye can notice. Everia knows in the back of her mind that her eyes are quite keener than the norm, but this doesn't dissuade her from her suspicions. Everia sighs. The blatantly inexplicable is especially tiring. "The sky is beautiful today, don't you agree?" Kinst mutters softly, his voice carrying satisfied, calm tones reminiscent of those of the sea before they began to accelerate. Everia blinks in surprise; Kinst rarely speaks after wielding magic heavily... why does he now? She glances upwards. The gentle gradient of the cobalt sky reminds her of the face of a massive stained glass lens, the sleeping cirrus whispers like slowly expanding cracks. Everia frowns. How foolish of her to take such a perspective. "It..." Everia inhales and sighs, "Yes, it is." Even a lie can be beautiful. A slight smile creeps across Kinst's face as he continues, "I wonder, do you suppose it has as much desire for magic as this water does?" He turns his head slightly to better observe her reaction. "What is your sky..." Everia mutters dryly, glancing back at him suspiciously. Was he playing some silly game? "That it would desire? The air is too fickle, the beyond impartial, and Aekria burns more intensely than desire ever could." Kinst rises to sit and replies, suddenly serious, "You're no fool, Everia. Neither of us have ever seen this kind of ocean before; for one thing, it's too easily alterable. I shouldn't have been able to do that and already have recovered. I suspect there is something similarly awry with the sky. I'd like to have a better understanding of what is going on around this island before we land on it, because this much magic could be... dangerous." "Magic?" Everia murmurs, kneading her brows. "Magic?" She blinks several times and then whips around to face Kinst, her eyes narrowed and filled with a frighteningly eager gleam. "Why did I not realize this earlier?" She utters with an exasperated grin, "Alright, Kinst," Everia exhorts, "Let us conduct... an experiment." |
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Zephi 0 Since: 02-15-06 From: EST Last post: 5925 days Last view: 5909 days |
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Hey. I'm a pianist and a few years ago I became interested in creating impromptu pieces. I've been playing such improvisations on my Korg Triton for a while now and I just wanted to share something I worked on over this past winter break. 
By the way, I'm an avid Starcraft player, hence naming the song Psychic Storm 
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Zephi 0 Since: 02-15-06 From: EST Last post: 5925 days Last view: 5909 days |
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| I am interested. I have the WGT map pack (obs and standard version for each map) should anyone need them. Although I do prefer professional maps, I'm able to play on whatever maps are popular on b.net right now. Anyways, let's not make a fuss about it now until we have enough people for a proper tourney. My screen name on US East is CdG.Zephyr. |
| Acmlm's Board - I3 Archive - - Posts by Zephi |
