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⬣//BLOSSOMING FROM A GAP IN THE ASPHALT.
A new Root Town has been revealed: Naval Monte, a tiered city built upon a mountain jutting up from an endless expanse of ocean. These fortified walls house an innumerable number of NPCs who, unlike those which occupy other Root Towns, are quite a bit more advanced.
Those of you who spend entirely too much time logged in have no doubt noticed the set patterns the NPCs of Mac Anu and Lumina Cloth take to move from area to area. Their paths never change. Their dialog rarely diverges. Talking to a freshly painted wall would be more stimulating than conversing with your run of the mill NPC, but Naval Monte's are different.
They move in accordance with their own whims, seldom found in the same place twice. Some NPCs have entire families while others boast elaborate backstories and speak at length of their tales of bravery and triumphs over evil. While they won't accept your party invites, they may instead invite you to share a meal with their family and regale you with stories until you've had your fill.
Travel far enough into the depths of the city and you'll hear tales of a graveyard that sits within the core of the mountain, but the NPCs who guard this elusive site are defensive at best. Don't expect them to let you in, but given their advanced nature, you may be able to wheedle some valuable information out of them.
Be aware that there is a price to enter Naval Monte. After crossing the vast bridge leading right up to the mountain city, you'll be accosted by no less than a dozen eager vendors fighting to peddle their wares to you. Some are so desperate that they ask only for a single GP, and in exchange, they grant you passage to the city.
Ask them why they're so desperate to make a sale and they'll answer plainly: if you don't, the curse will persist.
Come Saturday morning, an email flagged as urgent pops up in your inbox.
To our beta team,
It has come to our attention that a number of our beta testers have failed to report previous underlying health conditions that may negatively impact their ability to perform their duties as intended.
In our ongoing efforts to monitor the health and safety of our beta testing team, all participants in Fragment's closed beta test will be required to complete a health screening before the date of September 16th in order to continue participating in the beta.
Beta participants will be matched with a health professional in their area and the fees for their screening and assessment waived. As such, it is necessary that you make an appointment with the medical professional assigned to you or select another from within our network.
No exceptions will be made for those who fail to submit their health assessments to CyberConnect's Health and Human Resources department. Termination from Fragment's beta testing program and applicable legal action will be taken in the event that you fail to participate in these necessary steps.
We take the health and safety of our beta testers very seriously. If you have any concerns, please contact us at cccorp.ccmail.com.
Thank you for your continued efforts,
CyberConnect Corporation of Japan.
Murmurs of an unusual NPC have begun to circulate within Naval Monte.
According to eye witnesses, one of the local residents has "gone rogue". According to them, a woman with dishwater eyes and hair messily pulled into a loose bun has been spotted going door to door begging to be let in.
"We need to go," she shouts, her eyes glossy with tears, her every word slurred. "We'll be safe there! We'll be free! We can't live like this anymore!"
From what you've heard, that woman has managed to break free from the confines of her native Root Town and has been seen running through the streets in Mac Anu, Lumina Cloth, and the nameless Root Town in the sky. You may have even come across her, accosted in the street and urged to listen to her increasingly erratic ramblings.
"I need you to take me there! Take me to him! His father left the key within him!"
Ultimately, nothing you say or do will influence the woman's behavior or calm her down. All you'll get for your troubles is an ill feeling in the pit of your gut, something that blooms from within you and spreads infinitely outwards. An infection you can't cure.
You won't realize that the infection has begun to spread and mutate until you see it blossoming all around you, your fellow testers complaining of an unidentifiable malaise. You'll know what afflicts you and everyone you've infected when it's far too late to do anything about it. Until this unfortunate "bug" is patched, you'll continue to get sicker and sicker. The progression of the illness is as follows:
Stage one: The complete inability to lie, but is that really a bad thing? We could all stand to be more honest and communicative.
Stage two: The loss of one of your key senses, but only one. Maybe it's your sense of smell. Your keen tongue. Your vision. Whatever it is, it's a vital part of you that won't return to you until you log off, but when you next log in, you may find that a different sense has gone missing instead.
Stage three: Disconnect from your real world body. You'll realize after several days have passed that you can no longer feel your real self as keenly as before. You may not realize you've slapped yourself in the face or knocked a tooth out on the edge of your desk until you log out for the day and witness the extent of the damage.
Final stage: Memory loss. Your head feels foggy. Concentrating becomes a struggle, your thoughts sluggishly crawling through your mind and and ultimately losing their way. In the final stages of the illness, you may forget to log out for days at a time and wake to find yourself passed out on the floor with your headset jostled loose, inadvertently freeing you from the game.
The "cure," aside from a timely patch, may hide somewhere within the game. Before your senses leave you, you'd better start asking around.
As many of you know, it isn't easy to get ahold of CyberConnect when you need them. Hien is, at best, completely useless. Pete isn't much better. It's for these reasons and more that players have been invited to a digital conference and encouraged to give a voice to the rising concerns within the beta testing community.
The conference is to be held, both ICly and OOCly, on September 23rd at 12PM EST. If you have any burning questions to ask the people who hold power and influence over the state of the game and what happens within it, you can't afford to complain about timezones. This is your opportunity to speak your mind and have those questions answered.
OOCly, the conference will begin on September 23rd at 12PM EST and end on October 7th at 12PM EST. During this time, your characters can ask whatever questions they'd like of CyberConnect corporate staff, bring up concerns, and provide insights on their beta testing experiences.
Participation is mandatory (ICly), so set your alarms and don't be late!
Hello, everyone! Sorry I was away for a while. I got stuck in an outer level of the game and it took me a week to get back, but I should be just fine now! I hope I didn't miss anything too serious...
I did see that all of you have worked hard on those recipes, though! I liked all of them so much that I've added each of them into the game so that everyone can make their own. Congratulations!
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He sets down the shot glass with a look of great intensity. )
So it was you.
Which files did you look through?
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Your documentation on the game... [ Ah, if he'd stopped there. ] ...Some few others. They're well encrypted.
[ Does Mithrun want awkward praise from the man who reluctantly hacked his computer, or... ]
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Mithrun grabs the ledge of the counter and swings himself over faster than he'd made it over the first way, landing light on his feet because he's already in motion by the time he hits the ground. It's a quick and rapid stride to Michel - one that punctuates with Mithrun grabbing Michel by the front of his shirt with particular violence. With such arctic ferocity in the force of his presence, it's easy to forget for a hot second that there's about a foot of difference to them.
His tone is sharp: )
What files.
( Thankfully PVP probably isn't enabled in Fine Wine so this is just really uncomfortable, if anything... though there is a whole row of alcohol bottles in reach, which is a bit awkward. )
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They're all spreadsheets. If you expect me to have the names memorized, you're mistaken. I have no interest in your business transactions, except what it might have meant for where you vanished to.
[ The silver lining of the plague, if Mithrun has been tracking the effects at all: be can count on the truth of those words. The icy annoyance lacing Michel's voice, too, is perfectly sincere. ]
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But he drops his hold finally with a click of his tongue - not happy, but clearly his calculations concluded that an in-game execution wasn't really going to resolve his irritation here.
And, at the very least, he's only irritated; if he had considered Michel a liar in this respect, he might have something more actionable sort of ruthlessness in mind. But, for now, he's just peeved someone got into his files at all.
He doesn't step back or anything, not caring much about the distance, and crosses his arms. )
... Did you tell anyone what you found?
( Such as Vogel. He doesn't seem like he's about to escalate into aggression again,at least. )
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I told Hani the name of the hospital that had admitted you before. It seemed apparent they already knew you in real life.
[ Although this seems like the sort of conversation where he should return one of those thriller movie answers. "If anything happens to me, emails with those files will be sent to..."
He couldn't lie about it right now even if he wanted to. And with his luck, it would tip Mithrun's evaluation of his level of nuisance in the direction he would not prefer. Probably best to leave the threats to those more naturally skilled at them. ]
...I think the people in your life likely to be affected by your abrupt disappearance do deserve an explanation of some kind. But it shouldn't come from me.
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So he's not going to squabble over whether he should've done it or if there were better avenues. It'd be a waste of everyone's time by now. So, his expression seems to indicate a sort of, Fine. sentiment in regards to sharing only the most relevant information to share with Sinclair and Hani. He's not happy, but it is what it is. )
... They know I'll be disappearing again one day, though I've said it'd be my own choice if I do.
( If Michel meant that Mithrun ought explain those "business" transactions, that is. And, well - he hasn't mentioned it for very good reason: he doesn't care. He doesn't care about the things he did then, the people he hurt. He doesn't feel guilt over it, it doesn't trouble his heart - not then, and even less now - so much so that it doesn't even cross his mind, never mind his lips.
But that doesn't mean he's not aware of how he would reflect in the eyes of certain others if he did tell them, and if they saw in him his indifference. He is not a sweet, tormented soul; he is an empire of errors. )
I'm not going to accept that you broke in. But Hani and Vogel were happy that you did. If they're your metric, then my judgment means nothing.
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[ Considering Sinclair, who's lost so many things already. Hani, who might not understand how to worry but who had done their best in their vigil over Mithrun. Possibly they could accept whatever Mithrun had told them. But that doesn't change the nature of it, from Michel's perspective. ]
Nonetheless, you are the only person with the right to judge my actions. I don't disagree that it was wrong. I would not have done it if I had not believed you could be in trouble... but my reasons do not mitigate the violation. And I did it for them, not for you. Considering that, I doubt my apology would mean very much.
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( Blunt. However: )
But it's happened. Don't share anything else you've found. ( Largely because it might be inconvenient for him in pursuing his post Fragment plans. ) In turn, I don't mind if you think me overconfident and cruel.
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I don't desire your permission... or to think that at all. What I want is a reason to believe that you'll take better care of the feelings of those who have chosen, for whatever reason, to care for you.
[ Michel would not object to this outburst of honesty stopping at any time. Vexed, he bites down on his own tongue — quite literally — to stem the flow of words. ]
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( Take care of the feelings of the people who care for you, he means. )
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...Yes. Even if... the weight of their feelings is not the same as mine.
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Regardless, Michel's answer earns a faint hum of regard. What kind of regard? Who knows. )
They care for you more than you care about them?
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The opposite. At least... that's how it always has been, before.
[ The people here care a frankly dizzying amount. ]
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Anyway, that's real sad Michel, )
... That's not abnormal. ( At least ?? that's what he grew up with. So he'll just come out and say it: ) The people here care too much.
( And, well - as for the matter of taking care of their feelings for him... )
I've never had people who cared about me so much. ( Except his brother, but he didn't realize that until like, this week, so shh, ) I don't know how to handle their feelings for me.
( Bull in a fine china shop he is. )
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I don't think there's anything wrong with the amount they care. With so many people here like that, then the rest of the world is the anomaly.
[ They care the correct amount! At least here, he doesn't feel like an outlier at all. ]
Learning to accept it is... a process. Do you want to?
[ "Are you trying?" He could be content with that much. ]
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( He says it with such certainty, one might think it the anchor of his identity - and it is, in some important way. Which makes his unhappy, half-muttered follow-up a little pressing: )
... At least, I didn't. It feels more vague now.
( Which is weird and frustrating and opens the door to a lot of unknowns - both in the labyrinth of wanting, and in loss of purpose, and in acceptance of, potentially, a lifetime of empty. Nothing about learning to want again is appealing, at all; it's a second curse foisted upon his first. )
But... I guess that means I don't want to refuse it.
( Not wanting can work both ways, in safe ambiguity. )
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You're a scientist. It's understandable to take your time and gather enough information to make an informed choice. If you're honest with them, then I have nothing to criticize.
[ Although the way Mithrun's laptop was put together... it's hard to imagine its owner as being devoid of at least some form of want. But the stray thought the honesty pulls out of him instead is lingering a little behind: ]
...Not that you care about my criticism.
[ Which is offered more as an observation than in the tone of a complaint. ]
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( He's not defensive about Michel's criticism - or advice, if one were to view it generously. He doesn't care either way. His anger over his laptop, apparently, was an anomaly, contrary to his usual mode of indifference. )
I haven't told them about my activities, but it's because they haven't asked. And I've told them I will die, because it's come up. If this were you, what else would you want to hear?
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How would they know to ask?
[ Although he pauses, thinking of Sinclair. Thinking of Hani. How much would the information affect their choices...? ]
In their position, I would want to know everything. What you're doing and what you've done. What you intend to do. To understand everything about you, and not just my illusion of you. [ And, in a slightly arrested tone: ] —What do you mean, you'll die?
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The question, though, gives him pause, and he combs back over what he said earlier... Hm, he guesses that was more obvious to him because he knows the context of his speech, than Michel, who doesn't know this of him. )
... The man who got me into that "business." I intend to repay him. It'll probably kill me in the process. That's what I meant by "disappear." That answers most of what you'd hypothetically want to know, doesn't it?
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Hypothetically, as someone who cared for you... I would want to know why. If repaying him was more important to you than the future we could have otherwise. Whether you felt you had any responsibility for what you'd been part of.
[ He's someone with a lot of questions, alright. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug as if to say, "I'm glad that you aren't my problem after all." ]
...Those would be mine. They may differ. You can only ask.
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... I see. I'll take note.
( He doesn't thank Michel, because Mithrun sucks, but at least Michel's effort doesn't seem like it's fallen on deaf ears. )
... Take care of them where I can't. They deserve that much.
( But it seems he has no other quarrel or hold on Michel. Well, except: )
Are you able to resume with the experiment?
( And he really will have Michel test the taste and accuracy of the drinks for the rest of the evening if Michel lets him, )
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I agree. And I intend to.
[ If he trusted other people enough to take on faith that they would do something like that, he would be a very different person. But, cursed with both compulsive honesty and only slightly less compulsive guilt: ]
...I'm able. How many of these do you intend to have me try...?
[ He will, in fact, try to repay the perceived wrong by gamely testing for a while. Hopefully either Mithrun's mercy(?) or his own good sense kicks in before he goes too far. ]