Stellarum Salve [closed]

[starlightcalliope]

Once again it is quiet and lonely in the void of the Furthest Ring. Some time ago - inasmuch as time can be said to be a thing that exists here - Calliope had suddenly found herself in a very strange dream bubble. It had been quite frightening, but also nice, so nice, to not be alone for a while, and of course it was over far too quickly, leaving her to stew by herself in the dark once more.

Despite the brief respite from her miserable lot that the dream had granted her, she is soon overwhelmed by loneliness and despondency again, curled up at the center of her protective vortex and wondering how she is supposed to make a difference to all of Paradox Space. Being dead means irrelevancy, after all, and she has already been killed by her brother once before - quite rightfully, the more she thinks about it. So how can she hope to find the courage to leave her hidden sanctuary and go in search of the secret weapon of legend, capable of defeating the invincible reality-rending monster her brother has become? Hope is in rather short supply out here, she muses gloomily.

Just then, as though to prove her wrong, something changes. Calliope stares up in speechless shock as a pair of majestic wings appears in mid-air, getting larger and brighter and quite mesmerizing and then she feels like she's tumbling, the wings guiding her. It's a short tumble, at the end of which she finds herself sitting on smooth stone, looking up at the back of a winged human statue. There is water sprinkling down in front of her-- water? And trees?? And humans!!! With an undignified squeak, Calliope more falls than scrambles down the edge of the oddly round body of water and cowers at the foot of it.

What is this place? There are so many humans she doesn't know, and this really doesn't feel like a dream bubble at all, and she feels slightly cold... just about anywhere would be cold to someone who grew up beneath a massive red supergiant, but she's never felt much of anything in the void or in dreams. This is all too much to take in and so is quickly eclipsed by her usual paramount concern - not causing a panic among the humans with her monstrous appearance. Which is going to be rather difficult, as the round structure isn't hiding her well at all, and oh she's quite sure she couldn't bear it if they all started running away screaming. Too scared to care that this doesn't seem to be a dream, she squeezes her eyes shut and desperately wills herself to look more acceptable, imagines with all her might her trollsona's soft grey skin, pretty face and lovely curled orange horns. But for all her imagining, she's still too afraid to open her eyes again.

Comments

[whofrownedthisface]

Nope. He thought he was getting it, and then it took a sharp turn in the direction of not getting it at all. He looks back at Iman just as bewildered, before turning a more cautiously baffled look on Callie. "I'm not sure that's what I meant to say at all, mainly because I have no idea what you're talking about. That's what I am, it's, it's all one thing. My people are Time Lords." Kinda. Some of them. Look, none of that would help right now. "It doesn't mean we can't do other things. Time, dimensions, space, telepathy," cosmic bigotry, catastrophic universe damaging wars, genocide, stupid outfits, "Time Lord stuff." He shrugs. "Nothing to get so up in the air about. Is this about the muse thing?" Thing of thing, she sure does like that construction. Wonder what that's about.

[starlightcalliope]

So it's... his species, not his role? Why would a species be named after a master class? Especially since he doesn't seem to be familiar with mythological roles at all, or any of the lore on Paradox Space, really. So either he is from a universe that isn't destined to bear a session, or he isn't one of the heroes in it, but that can't be right. Even in the short time that she's known him, he has very much struck her as someone who would be granted the great privilege and burden of having a large impact on reality. So if he doesn't know his class and aspect yet, it's definitely time someone helped him figure it out. And perhaps it would turn out that he isn't a Lord at all, though even if he were, it would be silly of her to be concerned, wouldn't it?

"'The muse thing', as you somewhat naively put it, is part of a complex arrangement of classes and aspects that describe the manner in which one has the most meaningful impact on reality, as well as that facet of creation which one has the greatest understanding of and natural affinity with." Sharing her knowledge and considering how best to present her favorite set of rules are having a rather comforting, bolstering effect on Calliope, and she takes on a somewhat lecturely tone that she didn't know she had because she's never gotten to explain this stuff out loud. "There are twelve aspects of reality and twelve classes, plus two master classes. But one's class and aspect mustn't be understood to be limiting! You could still possess great talent in your interactions with other aspects as well, or you may have not immediately apparent potential in your aspect that you are meant to hone as you grow."

Naturally, she magnanimously shares her lecture between the Doctor and Iman, spicing it up with fairly incomprehensible gestures meant to represent all of creation in some way. Though, even in her excitement she can't keep missing their baffled faces forever, so she eventually comes to a somewhat awkward halt. "Blimey, I, erm, did not mean to distract from your conversation about the TARDIS," she apologizes sheepishly to Iman and then glances at the Doctor. "I suppose I was a wee bit up in the air for... personal reasons. Nothing to fret about, really."

[etherthief]

Iman watches Callie throughout this unexpected burst of exposition, and makes a mild flapping gesture at the end of it. "Don't apologize," she says. "I want to know more about you, too."

Especially now. What the heck was all that, it sounded like a video game, but having impacts on reality? Her brow furrows and she crouches down again, back to eye level.

"Does everyone have these where you come from?" she asks curiously. "What do you mean by impact on reality?" Really, she could listen to both of them all day. Someone ought to start writing this down.

[whofrownedthisface]

Callie's enthusiasm for lecturing is respectable, if completely unintelligible to him and, by the looks of it, to Iman as well. And even if it's not a very accessible subject, it seems to be a cheering one for her. A chalkboard would have done wonders for that explanation on his end, though. The 'personal reasons' he will let pass for now, even if it is rather difficult to discount his species as a factor entirely. This can probably be blamed on Rassilon in some way.

Iman's questions are pretty spot-on, but he's not gonna waste an opportunity to tack on a couple of his own. "And what does it mean to be a muse of space? Space I get," he waves demonstratively at their current surroundings--Callie had had a point, after all. But what is a muse in this context? "And how is it decided?" All that 'meant to' talk, doesn't sound like she picked it herself.

[starlightcalliope]

Oh dear, they're really properly interested in hearing more about this, aren't they? Even though all this likely doesn't directly affect them. She really hadn't meant to dominate the conversation again, but if her explanation has inspired such curiosity, far be it from her to spoil such a fortuitously educational opportunity for them. Gathering her thoughts, she sets down the mirror on the seat by the stairs and then turns to Iman. As flattered as she is by the Doctor's particular interest in her role and life, she feels it will make more sense if she gives some background information first.

"Well, technically the class-aspect matrix could be applied to anyone, but roles are only officially assigned to those destined to play the game. If you ask me, this may be because the game is uniquely geared towards personal growth and has the potential to award god-like powers to its heroes. I fancy it is a wee bit easier to find one's serpentine path through destiny with the helpful direction of one's title! Also, all other inhabitants of a planet that bears a session are sadly slated to be obliterated during the Reckoning, anyhow." Which is tragic, of course, but it wouldn't make much sense to give someone a mythological role who is only there to set the stage for the thrilling adventures of the heroes.

And that was the easiest part to answer, as she's not sure how much clearer she can make the concept of having an impact on reality without giving too much away. Although, on second thought, if they're not going to enter a session, she doesn't actually have to be mindful of how much she tells them. How splendid! "The heroes have a very literal and direct impact on reality because the ultimate purpose of each session, through all its rises and falls and at times interconnected iterations, is to breed a new universe!" She's always thought this is one of the best parts, and delivers it with the corresponding amount of cheer. "It is Paradox Space's means of cosmic propagation, creating new universes out of the genetic makeup of successful heroes and their sessions, bearing all their hopes and flaws alike, offering them peace at last. I cannot think of a more noble pursuit than this!"

She's practically beaming now, cheek swirls flushed with excitement and enthusiasm. But she hasn't forgotten the Doctor's questions and turns her bright smile on him. "The game assigns the roles, based on the players' inherent inclinations and affinities. Perhaps it is even Skaia itself that, in its infinite sunny wisdom, sets the players on their quests towards self-awareness and self-actualisation. I myself had hoped to learn more about my own role and explore my potential during my session of the game, but... I suppose I never shall, now." She'd managed to forget about that for a moment there, so the realization that everything she's just fawned over is unattainable for her hits pretty hard, and she visibly deflates. "To be quite honest, I know very little about the role of the Muse... It is one of two master classes, the most passive of the lot. The opposite in every respect being, erm, the Lord." And now she's back to that, how grand, well done her. She's rather run out of words though, and merely glances up at the Doctor uncomfortably to see what he thinks.

[etherthief]

Iman did not know exactly to expect when she asked for elaboration but it wasn't this.

That's a huge amount of information, and she feel her expression slackening slowly and her eyes getting bigger as it goes on. Callie is doing a pretty good job explaining what seems to be a really massive amount of information in a reasonably succinct and... well, mostly straightforward manner, albeit she's using a lot of the words she's also trying to define in the definition, but one has to start somewhere. What is this, though, a whole contained multiverse within the multiverse? That pretty much seems to be what's being described.

And she doesn't know how to respond to any of it. She wants more, charts, diagrams, detailed explication, but this is just so much, and is this the time for it? Probably not.

She ends up resting back and exhaling slowly, not quite managing any words but letting her expression shift from blankly astonished to impressed. She reaches out and rests a hand on Callie's shoulder, comfortingishly, picking up on the little dip in her mood at the end of it, but holding off on a real response, twisting to look up at the Doctor as well.

[whofrownedthisface]

Well that sure did happen a lot. And why is everyone looking at him now? Normally that's exactly what he's trying to achieve, but Callie's emotional rollercoaster of a lecture is hard to take in and even harder to respond to meaningfully, and he'd just as soon be passed over in the face of that. Iman, for her part, isn't offering any visual guidance either, she mostly looks floored and expectant. He feels unexpectedly betrayed. Isn't the other adult in the room automatically assumed to take responsibility for any emotional occurrences he doesn't understand?

And of course he can't voice his actual response. Universes creating new universes out of the genetic makeup of heroes. Rubbish! The game assigns the roles, and obliterates everyone else. Nonsense. Well, it probably isn't, in her universe. But it's definitely total bunk here. And as dejected as she seems at being reminded of that fact, it really sounds like a good thing that that's the case. Still, it looks like not saying any of that out loud is the right choice. His opinion, as much as he'd like to voice it, isn't really relevant to her past life. And it is certainly past. With impressive restraint, he remarks, "That sounds fascinatingly bizarre, though I still don't understand what exactly makes you call it a game. But I'm not a master whatever. I'm not...helping create any universes." Creating universes in the image of a Time Lord, let's just not and say we did. What would it mean to be the opposite of the most passive category? The most meddlesome, obviously. It's a bit ironic actually, paired with the policy of non-interference. But if you disregard the majority of Time Lords (and you should) it's a much less ironic and more apt designation. Whether Rassilon or the Doctor is being used for the archetype. That's unfortunate. Perhaps thinking of all the ways Callie's system doesn't work with his reality was a bad idea.

Mental digressions aside, he once again has no idea how to handle Callie's emotional state. If it were him, being alive and not part of some kind of apocalypse/universe breeding program would be the optimal outcome, the very most optimal. But she clearly feels that she is missing out, and pointing out exactly what it is she's missing out on, as fortunate as it seems to him, would probably be a misstep. "I think there's probably plenty of exploring and self-actualising to do here, without that. If at any point in my incredibly long life I'd been given a role, I would have rejected it outright. And I've done fine."

[starlightcalliope]

It is quite a relief to see that the Doctor doesn't seem to take offense to what little information she has on the Lord class. Especially since he has already shared with her some of his own dissatisfaction with his species, and she would hate to add to it. Maybe, if she's lucky, it hasn't even occurred to him that she has involuntarily made some unsavory associations between him and her brother. She would prefer to keep it that way, and to quit being unreasonable, while she's at it.

"I do not doubt that someone as knowledgeable and courageous as you would have no trouble finding their way without the assistance of knowing their role," she ventures kindly. "And someone who is not meant to enter a session may not require it at all. But the role isn't externally imposed, it encompasses what you were always intrinsically going to be. Rejecting it would be like rejecting your very own self. Besides, it is such fun to analyse a character in these terms!" she adds towards Iman, attempting to be a little more cheerful. The nice lady has thankfully taken on a much less looming height again, and it seems to her that they are both trying to be encouraging in their own ways. She wouldn't want that to go to waste.

"I do look forward to exploring this place. I'm sure it is going to be terrific," she reassures them. Though there are probably no expository quests to be had here, and no universe-propagating purpose, according to the Doctor. Nor will she be able to meet all her friends, and her brother is still a horrible threat. She's putting on a brave face, but her nervous fiddling with her cufflinks betrays her dejection. Better to point the conversation elsewhere, so she asks Iman, "Would you like to have a class and aspect? I'd be delighted to offer my services in helping you work them out."

[etherthief]

Well, the Doctor's small contribution is right on the money, though Iman suspects he's having an even harder time swallowing all this than she is. Good for him keeping a lid on it. She turns back to Callie, smiling at her reassurances. She's trying to work out something to say about all this, though she feels herself gravitating toward platitudes about how Callie is the master of her fate or some bullshit - this much personal and worldly freedom must be a hell of a culture shock for someone who has straight-up game mechanics built into her life story - but then Callie heads her off with that perplexing but adorable question.

Iman feels herself smiling, more genuinely than she usually does. Goddamn this cute friggin space kid.

"Um - yeah, sure!" she says, because how are you even going to say no to that. "What are the, um, what are the options?"