What's In A Name?

[grantuseyes]

Micolash sits cross-legged on a table. Strewn all around him are ink pots (some overturned and spilled), parchment paper (in stacks and scattered alike), pens and nibs and a few sticks of charcoal. His fingers are stained with ink and there are a few splotches somehow on his face and on his pinstripe trousers, along with a dark handprint on the metal collar of his cage. The side of his left hand, the one he's currently holding a pen with, is smudged even worse with black.

There are discarded drawings all around him, some that look like false starts on some manner of monsters. Some are just pages crammed with drawings of eyes, or scrawls repeating phrases or rambling prose. Some are crumpled up into paper wads or have half-hearted attempts at scratching out or erasing the contents.

The parchment Micolash currently has in front of him is being scrutinized by the scholar. Looking over his handiwork and trying to determine if it passes whatever muster he's going for. It's certainly a drawing of SOMETHING.

Whatever verdict he's pondering, it doesn't prevent Micolash from looking up and addressing whatever person is wandering close to his work station.

"What does your name mean? Do you know? Do you care?"

Comments

[sweetcandygirl]

"Are we finger-painting?" Harley grins at Micolash. And picks up a stick of charcoal. Grinning. Where is a loose piece of paper?

"I made it up. Harlequinn. Harley. Quinn. You like it?"

[grantuseyes]

Oh! He remembers this one! It's always so gratifying to see a face he recalls. And it's a bonus that he's asking about names, so he doesn't even have to worry about remembering them here and now. Micolash gives Harley a wobbly smile and a wave, then slides a clean piece of parchment towards her. There we go, always encourage the arts.

"Harlequinn. Harlequinn." He repeats it to himself in a low voice, considering it. "...Ah, like a clown! Or a jester! I see, I see. Because you paint your hair and your face?" He points to either as he mentions them with one ink-smudged finger. "And you...named yourself? What was the purpose of that?"

[outpostcook]

"That's, erm, an interesting creature you're drawing. Looks a little bit like one I saw. Just a little, though. Mine was smaller, and had only three eyes." Then again, the Thing could become anything it wanted, provided it assimilated the right creatures.

Kinner is intimidated by the stranger - something feels...off, and not just the cage the person seems to be wearing or a drawing of a monster that vaguely reminds him of the Thing. Not een mentioning the eyes. Still, he decides to be brave. If it wasn't for the Anti-Violence Field he probably would have bolted as far and as fast as his legs could carry him. Kinner is no coward, but his experiences in Antarctica taught him to be wary.

"My name?" The small cook shivers. "I don't know. I'm Joseph Kinner. My first name is biblical. My last name's just a family name. Nothing special about it."

[grantuseyes]

Micolash looks up sharply when commentary, and then comparison, of this creature is made. "Where did you see it? When? Here?" He looks around their immediate vicinity as if this three-eyed being in question might indeed be right at hand. He's disappointed when all he sees is the usual humanoids of the Nexus. He sighs and turns back to the other man.

"Joseph? Yosef. Iosef. Iosefka. God will provide." He drones the series of names like he's feeling through each one before coming to the conclusion he does. Micolash tilts his head behind his cage, looking at Kinner now with wide, pale blue eyes. "Does he? Do you think? Do you ever feel particularly...blessed? By your god?"

[hybriddino]

I am the Indoraptor. The name was given to me by my creators.I don't know what it means, but that's never been important.

The Indoraptor isn't intimidated by the drawing of the spider-creature, mostly because he's not usually scared of new things. He didn't even think it looked scary or ugly. After all, people thought he ws scary, so for all he knew the spider was perfectly nice. He gives Micolash a churr of greeting, followed by a concerned chirp.

Why are you wearing a cage? Doesn't that hurt? Do you want me to take it off for you?

[grantuseyes]

Micolash holds his breath when he sees the marvelous creature before him, eyes going wide and unblinking. There's a long stillness. Then he drops the pen in his hand.

The man in the cage immediately rushes to kneel on all fours closer to the edge of the table the Indoraptor stands near, oggling openly in amazement. Staring, taking in the details and majesty of this large predator. Bipedal? Look at the teeth. Eyes deep-set in the sides of the skull? Not a sight-based hunter, the orbit too limited. Scent-based, perhaps. Clear external nares near to the premaxilla. Is it fused to the incisive bone? The mandibular dentary has obvious power in the jawline; made to crush, with teeth to pierce and tear...

Does this animal KNOW HOW TO WRITE.

Micolash's thoughts are rushing a thousand miles a minute as he rapidly flicks through scientific terms and observations. Fervent biological speculation that is repeatedly interrupted with the realization it's WRITING.

He hasn't said anything. Or blinked. Instead, one spindly, ink-stained hand reaches out slowly for Indoraptor's nose. Pet it. Pet the giant predator.

[pirateangelbaby]

...how does this man not topple over?

That's the only thing that Thor can think when he sees the human(?), who does not appear distressed at all that there is a ludicrously tall cage perched on his shoulders. His one-eyed gaze sweeps across the table, trying to make sense of the mess, and fails utterly. Who knows what this is all about?

"I am Thor, which means 'thunder.' It'd be an odd coincidence if my parents didn't have the occasional gift of foresight."

[grantuseyes]

He doesn't even look like he has much to brag about in terms of upper body strength. The man's built like a coatrack. A mystery for the goddamn ages.

"Odd how?" Micolash doesn't even look up from his paper now, tapping the end of a pen thoughtfully against the bar nearest to his mouth. He adds a few more dark dots to the spider's face. More eyes. "Have you an affinity for nature's spark?" He hums a few bars of a meandering tune, doodling a few more eyes as he seems to become distracted by conversation despite still not looking up at the man addressing him.

[alittlehinky]

Holy shit, what is with this guy?

The feverish, smudgy drawings and ink spattered all over strikes Cricket as a little bit iffy to start with, but the cage is just way out of his comfort zone. He was actually trying to sneak past, sort of, carrying a couple bags of groceries, but he couldn't resist rubbernecking at the artwork. Part of him wishes he hadn't, because the drawing of the spiderlike creature (person?) gives him a weird sinking feeling in his stomach that he doesn't have a name for. Not fear or disgust or dread but definitely discomfort.

He starts when addressed and has to scramble to keep a tin of cocoa powder from falling out of his bag, but then he feels like he has to man up and act like he's not actually unnerved.

"Well..I got more'n one name," he says. "My real name is Cyrenaeus Hoyt. Last name Pate. But I been Cricket since I was tiny. Hoyt was my great-grandpa's name, and I been told it means a branch or a stick. And Cyrenaeus is a Bible name."

"I had rickets from when I was a baby, and my legs kinda stuck out awkward, I guess? And I walked real funny, but I wanted to get into everything and I guess I hopped a lot, so my mama called me her little cricket. And that was easier to say and spell than Cyrenaeus, so it stuck."

[grantuseyes]

Micolash easily mistakes the uneasy eyeballing for admiration so he's happy to let this young man gawk at whatever drawings he cares to. The smile he gives as he listens to the name explanation is a queasy one, like the man in the cage isn't entirely practiced at it. Like the expression is one he has to consciously attempt and isn't very good at. He also doesn't blink enough.

"Medicago." What? "A flowering plant. Burclover and alfalfa. Fabaceae. Would you have prefered to be called a little pea?" Is he...making a joke? His nasal drone and weird smile makes it hard to say for sure. Thankfully, he clarifies shortly after. "Cyrenaea is...a taxonomy of a legume, in the tongue of the Pthumerians."

He's still smiling vacantly even as he says in apparent sympathy, "Oh my, rickets. Do you still have skeletal deformities for it? How sad, that you did not have the Good Blood to aid your healing as a boy. What a difference it would have made in your recovery...!"

[lovesuwithknives]

This is a very curious being. So Azwel will take a closer look.

"Hm. I've never thought about it, really."

He's more preoccupied with peering into the cage.

[grantuseyes]

The cage has plenty of openings to look into, with a hole in the bottom just barely big enough for Micolash to fit his head into. The biggest opening is right in front of his eyes, keeping his view unobscured. Should he be peered in at, Micolash will just peer right back with unnervingly bright blue eyes. There doesn't seem to be any kind of locking mechanism or chains securing the device to him. It just rests on his skinny shoulders like the world's most unwieldy hat.

"What is your name...then?" His voice comes along meandering and halting, like he's daydreaming or sleeptalking. "I speak Pthumerian, as well as Yharnam English. Perhaps I may. Elucidate the meaning...?"

[turningcolors]

"What, indeed?"

They are nearing the end of Autumn and yet Hazel is as put together as she was on the Equinox no matter how less than human her appearance has begun to take on. Her skin is deathly pale these days, every now and again showing a darker splotch just underneath as though her blood had coagulated and darkened in her veins. Her palid countenance only makes her hair and eyes all the more striking in their color.

A small breeze gusts between Micolash and Hazel, settling a single golden leaf atop his sketch.

"Hazel, a muddled color of greenish brown and Tasker, for one who threshes grain. An Autumnal name if ever there was one."

[grantuseyes]

Micolash hears the voice and his eyes go wide, and then looks up when the leaf drifts over his drawing. He gasps when he sees her countenance, and then scrambles forward to the point he nearly topples over off the table he's on.

"Lady Kin! Be you unwell?!" She looks, well...like he does on the best of days. And Micolash isn't known for being a healthy human. His expression is one of open worry and shock, searching Hazel's face over and over with concern. He may even reach out to touch her cheek if permitted. Sorry about the cold and inky fingers.

[coldsong]

Oh, so this is the cage-headed fellow he's been warned about! Loki is immediately intrigued. The human contents within the iron bars are pretty much the opposite of intimidating, at first glance. He looks unstable, certainly, maybe a bit gaunt, and the scene around him coupled with his body language does seem to suggest...intensity. Still, if Adia and Caspar hadn't warned him, Loki would have thought this was merely a broken human being and either avoided him so as not to make his life worse, or poked him with a metaphorical stick.

He is too curious now to do the one, and too wary to do the other.

"Well, if you ask Midgardian scholars you may hear differing opinions, but the closest translation is 'a knot' or 'a tangle' or 'a web'. I suppose that makes me either a spider or poorly done crochet. And you?"

[grantuseyes]

Micolash listens politely, idly scratching the back of one hand with the other. It leaves only more black smudges across his knuckles. The mention of webs makes him smile, and the mention of a spider makes him smile wider still.

"Oh, but a spider is a marvelous thing to be! Maternal weavers, the arms of Amygdala, many-eyed mothers... Is it any wonder the Garden of Eyes clutch their stones carved with the likeness? Or the pilgrims of Her chapel memorize the twisted rune of Metamorphosis Anti-Clockwise to be as more unto Her form? Ah, and lest we forget darling Rom..." He looks back down at the paper in front of him fondly, tracing a fingertip along one of that drawn thing's curly tails.

Still looking warmly down at the strange inking, Micolash eventually replies, "I am Micolash. Said to mean 'Victory of the People'. How nice, were that to be true. And once, I had titles. Headmaster of Mensis. Host of the Nightmare. Now I am just Micolash, so much more's the pity."

[liverfree]

Wow, what's up with the guy with his head in a cage?

Prometheus has seen a lot of things in the course of his incredibly long life, but this is a new one, even for him. "My name means Forethought," he replies as he approaches the ink-stained scholar. "And I do care, because I'm the Titan of it."

He smiles at his little joke before peering down at the drawing of the strange spider-like creature. "Who is she?" Perhaps he shouldn't assume a gender, but the drawing reminds him so much of Arachne that he can't help it.

[grantuseyes]

"And what makes you so titanic, hmmm?" Micolash leans forward at the waist to peer closer at the bearded man, a wan smile on his face as he studies him in turn. "There is always a time and a place, for forethought. But there is so much more to be said for just...taking the plunge, don't you think? What could be more thrilling than to jump from the cliff feet first? To pierce the veil and see firsthand what is beyond?"

When he's asked about the drawing, Micolash brightens considerably, lifting it up to better show off the bug-like being. "She is Vacuous Rom! The Spider of Bergynwerth! Beloved kin of Kos, some say Kosm, ascended from beastly humanity into something divine. Is She not beautiful? Is She not captivating?" It's hard to say if he's more proud of the drawing or the subject itself.

[circadiandrumsolo]

This is not an auspicious first time in the nexus for this fellow. Yet here he is. Slight, bespectacled, carrying a satchel full of beastie-bane, all five-foot-six of him. He stops. Peers at the drawings. His brows meet. Goodness, that spider thing looks familiar in the sort of completely misidentifying way that only a graduate of Miskatonic U can achieve.

Pardon him as he stares.

[grantuseyes]

Micolash is a starer himself, so he simply watches as the young man looks on with furrowed brows at his handiwork. Then, wordlessly, he scoots the drawing closer to the other can have a closer look and form a verdict. Good? Bad? The scholar watches the newcomer's face, unblinking, head canted to one side in curiosity. Maybe he recognizes Her!

[delphicbooksandbaubles]

She blinks her nose twitches at the mess and tries to straighten some of it up here and there. Ink and paper is sort of her thing too but it's been a while since she got to handle quilty parchment or akin to it.

Shuffle shuffle, making little nice piles out of flyaway ones, She hums softly, as she carefully sets ink pots upright with gloved hands. As she gets closer she brightens at the sight of whom it is. "Micolash!" She calls out brightly, Her ears wiggle a little happily under her hood. She felt like she hadn't seen him in ages. Oooh, nice question too.

She twitches her nose as she sees some of the doodles..hmmh beasties is it? She half muses and shivers. Right nicer topic to start with. "Hmm, I know that my birth name Aalish, means, 'of noble kind' in French and is the Gaelic variant transcription of Alice.. the name I was given when I was..transported with a good percent of my realm was Ashlynn, which is 'dream' or 'vision.' via its root etymology." She informs him and checks her little notepad in a pocket that she likes to write tidbits in.

She twitches her nose, slightly. "I'm not sure whether the curse was being punny with most of ours or if that was a certain someone's idea. Since in our world names have power..of a sort..and a certain Imp likes to collect them." She coughs wryly. "Not sure if ya heard of Rumplestiltskin." She adds after a moment. "He's a rather powerful wily mage and er being who likes to spin Gold in his spare time and owns a majority of our cursed town." She adds after a bit trying to recall if she's told him this before or not. She knew most regular folks didn't like to tangle with him though they did seek him out for favors and bargains and naturally paying the rent.

[grantuseyes]

Micolash glances over when it's clear someone is trying to tidy his mess. Surely he's not that disheveled, is he, the man wonders with ink all over his clothes and skin. Oh, Micolash.

Seeing who it is gets the man to smile brightly. "Ashlynn! Oh, how wonderful! How long it has been since we last spoke? Ages, it feels like. I've no idea how long I'd been asleep for! Forgive me, for not even writing. Goodness me..." Now that he knows it's someone who matters, the scholar attempts to straighten out some of the mess in front of him, though that mostly just comes down to batting off balls of crumpled paper to the floor and getting papers into straightened piles. He looks to grow bored of this after awhile, however, and turns once more to Ashlynn as she explains her name.

Micolash gasps when he hears the roots containing things such as, "Dream! Vision! Oh! Two things so near and terribly dear to myself and my research! What serendipity, that we are friends! This must be a hand of fate. Now if only my name meant something to you in turn! Alas."

As Ashlynn elaborates on this Rumple fellow, Micolash frowns as he taps the collar of his cage with one blackened finger. "I've not heard of such a being, no. A thief of names? A gold-spinner? It sounds a thing of faerie tales, really."

[darkmountainfarmer]

"Roughly translates to "home ruler". Germanic personal name, introduced to England by the Norman invasion. "

Henry Akeley easily answers the question, slightly unsettled by the cage the man wears but not showing it. After all, he's seen worse. His Houndour walks by his side, ready to spring if the stranger is in any way threatening.

"What is that creature? One of the Old Ones? It looks somewhat like Atlach-Nacha, the Spinner in Darkness, but I don't recognize the name. Maybe one of her children. I imagine there are Old Ones humanity hasn't yet encountered, which is just as well."

[circadiandrumsolo]

The thin little fellow who'd been examining the drawings earlier perks up at hearing the name Atlach-Nacha. He steps back over to the table.

"Pardon me--I couldn't help overhearing," he says, the slightest hint of a New England accent to his speech. "Did you say 'Atlach-Nacha?'"

[mercifulthreat]

Mediana hasn’t encountered this man before. She would remember if she had; the cage around his head is quite unforgettable, as are the parchments and ink bottles strewn haphazardly around the table. Not to mention the things on the parchments; several of them are drawings of creatures that wouldn’t be out of place on a battlefield in Orvellia. Especially the spider-creature the man is currently working on; it would fit right in among the enormous spiders that have been twisted by a century of demonic influences and plagues.

“Goodness,” she says softly. “What an unsettling creature...”

At least the man’s question isn’t as unnerving as his drawings! Mediana can answer it easily enough. “My father was a doctor,” she explains, “and he named me Mediana, after medicine.”

[grantuseyes]

Micolash's lip curls and he frowns in abject offense! "I beg your pardon," he sniffs in a low and drawn-out drone. "Unsettling? Rom? Perhaps you meant majestic? Beauteous? What a thing to say, and to call Her a creature no less! Did your father teach you to speak with such a disrespectful tongue as well, my dear?"

He sounds like a very disappointed and offended teacher.

[middle_son]

He's been wandering around the Nexus a little, and he has not found either of the people he was expecting to find here, but the people he has met so far seemed all right. It's the less pleasant aspects of this place he's been on the lookout for. Is he about to run into one of those? Only time will tell.

Nobody should have their head in a cage, but with all the marvels of this place, somebody who really wanted their head out of a cage could manage it pretty damn quickly. It seems safe to assume this bizarre fellow is just fine with the state of things as they are, and that right there speaks volumes.

The man built like a bear and dressed like a country grandmother studies the cage, the man in it, the drawings, and then the man again. "M'name's Forrest. It means forest."

[grantuseyes]

Micolash does seem to be content with his situation regarding the cage. It doesn't appear locked or fastened onto him in ways that would prevent its removal; the greatest hindrance would likely be its weight. The scholar is clearly unconcerned with its presence, however, as he continues to sketch and hum to himself as he does so. He sometimes uses a fingertip to smudge at the lines, which may explain how a grown man has gotten himself so messy with his art supplies.

When the answer regarding this newcomer's name, Micolash looks up and...appears to go blank as he internalizes this information. So succicient. Is this annoying? Amusing? Refreshing? He has no idea what emotion he is meant to feel or what he is feeling at all, so after far too long of looking to be mentally lost in space, the scholar eventually replies carefully with, "...I. See."

Perhaps feeling that this is not enough offered in return to be a proper conversation, Micolash is silent for a moment longer. Then finally only now puts his eyes on the other man, having been staring off into the middle distance as he ruminated. "...Do you. Like. Forests?"

[coinbot]

... Is this man alright? He doesn't seem to be in any particular panic but. There is a cage on his head. Even in the Nexus that seems abnormal.

Connor lingers at a slight distance, watching him draw with a bland expression and no comment. This is an android's way of lowkey assessing whether or not you're a blight on society.

"I guess my real name is RK800 #313 248 317 - 52," Connor says, in answer to the question. "RK800 is my model number, a new prototype in the RK series. 313248317 is my serial number. I assume you would prefer that I don't get into the arithmetic of how serial numbers are generated. 52 designates the current body I'm using out of the existing stock of my model. I used to be 51, but that body was terminated."

That's real complicated and mathy, Connor, thanks.

He tilts his head. "Most people just call me Connor, though. Humans like to personify things, so RK800s are given the name Connor as a default. To make us more approachable."

[grantuseyes]

How funny, that a man who appears so normal and bland would prove to say such intriguing things. The scholar barely gives Connor a second glance before turning back to his art, perhaps determining where he can add more eyes onto this spider thing's face without making it a total mess.

However, the second he hears a string of numbers, Connor immediately has Micolash's full and undivided attention. Unblinking, wide-eyed attention. Off and on as the android talks, his brow knits as if an errant, sudden realization or surprise zings through his brain. It’s always gone again in seconds, more a twitch than anything. The avoidance of maths doesn’t prevent the scholar from making rapid calculations of his own. Trying to make sense of what this fellow is telling him.

A test subject, perhaps? Easier to give them designated numbers or labels pertaining to their experimentations than to rely on names. An eccentric avoidant of conventional spelling? He has seen and heard weirder.

Everything mentally crashes to an abrupt halt, not unlike a car wreck complete with sounds of screeching tires and shattered glass, the precise second Connor says humans.

Micolash is up onto his knees and closer to the edge of the table Connor stands near. He did it so quick and nimble despite the cage, it might be a little startling. He is still staring, eyes massive and pale blue, as he only leans closer and closer to the other man(?)’s face.

He reaches out a ink-blotted hand to try and touch that face.

[darkpiety]

"Oh, Dear Micolash, your artwork is lovely! Perhaps my Lord Beauty looks upon you favourably from His Mirror..." There's a familiar voice! Abysa floats over to Micolash's side while kneeling, so he might lean down and inspect all the discarded papers. Some of them float up and un-crumple themselves so the demon might have a better look.

"Oh, but would you like to know the story of my name? It is not so much a story, I suppose, but eyeless demons have particular naming conventions, of which my name also adheres to."

[grantuseyes]

Hearing the familiar voice makes Micolash instantly perk up, then smile widely (genuinely!) when he sees the demon floating nearer. If allowed, he will lean on Abysa. As best he can with the cage in the way, anyway. It's mostly his shoulder and side. Be wary of ink stains.

"If you would tell me, I would hear it." One black-smudged hand reaches to toy lightly (cautiously?) with one of Abysa's hanging sleeves. The material is as soft and well-woven as usual. He also laughs nervously when it comes to the compliments of his artwork. "I wish I were better. It was never my forte. But so useful for research notes...!"

[telarano]

Oh. Well okay.

Micolash would have one black and red clad spider-themed hero slowing to a stop when he was addressed, gaze flicking over the stranger in his... cage? What?

Really he's glad his mask hides his expression because he's a little uneasy at the look of the stranger. Especially seeing what he's drawing. But his mother always taught him manners!

"Well, it's not really anything complex. Spider-Man. Bitten by a spider, got powers so... pretty self-explanatory I suppose." His attention was caught by movement along his shoulder, a small fluffy Joltik crawling into view that he scooped up onto his hand, a smile creeping into his tone. "And this is Tessi. Kinda silly I guess, named him after Nikola Tesla, just shortened a bit."

[grantuseyes]

How funny that this is the first arrival that gets an equally perplexed look from Micolash in turn. What does it say about your fashion sense when this guy eyeballs your choices?

He's neatly torn down the middle in this moment. He loves everything here being said about spiders, as well as the presence of the little fuzzy one nearby. It makes the scholar distractedly flick his eyes back and forth between his drawing and his conversation partner. He hardly knows where to start!

"...Are those your. Actual eyes?"

Intent to figure out if this is the case or not for himself, Micolash tilts himself towards the young man and reaches one crooked finger to try and tap at that big, white eyepiece. Because that's one way to determine things; just poke a guy in the eyeball.

[thissideonly]

"What does my name mean?"

Today, only one Tatsuya can be seen walking around the Nexus instead of the current pair- the one with the ringleader outfit, currently with a funky hoodie over it. He's carrying a canvas bag filled with groceries over his shoulder, and was going back to his Nexus home when he overheard Micolash.

He doesn't seem to be bothered with the man's cage.

"My family name, Suou, was originally a province of Japan, and is now part of the Yamaguchi Prefecture. It can be translated as 'Protective Border'." He shuffled his feet. "Tatsuya can be a question, asking you about progress and accomplishments. The 'Tatsu' part translates to those words, while the 'Ya' part is the question mark itself.

"Of course, that all depends on the kanji used for one's name. There are many ways to write Tatsuya, for one."

[grantuseyes]

The unusual structure of pronunciations seems to cause Micolash to pause and ponder. "Yamaguchi? Tatsu...ya? My heavens, are you from the distant East? It's so rare to meet outsiders from that region! We had only the one, famous enough with the Confederates that most everyone knew his name at least. Oh, that and he was an Old Hunter. Such prestige for a foreigner. Do you know him?"

Micolash, it's racist to ask if all asians know each other.

"Oh! Oh!" The scholar suddenly flaps his hands, excited by a passing thought. "What did his name mean? He was called Yamamura! What does that mean in the East?" Welp, tables are turned in this conversation, it would seem.

[neonboogeyqueen]

"Ah, hello again! Seems you've got a question for everyone this time."

Éclipse seems to be in a good mood. She doesn't seem focused on his drawings, but on his question. "Well, my name is well, an eclipse, except in Kalosi. Novilunio was chosen by my father from a different language close to Kalosi, that translates into the words 'New Moon'."

She looked over to the duo at her feet. "Chen means 'morning', which was when we first met, and Richter means 'judge', but I didn't choose his name for its meaning- mostly, I named him Richter because there's something about the pronunciation that sounds beautiful in my ears."

[grantuseyes]

Oh, hey, another one he remembers! If you're important or special to Micolash's interests, you always get a rare spot where he tries much harder to recall your face and name. And given that this was one that felt like such a refreshing font of Nightmarish energies...

Once more, it feels like a cool breeze across his clammy skin and he shudders happily at the sensation. There's a brief sparkling across his vision from pressure on his retinas from the inside as the same energies excite the phantasms in his skull. It's not unlikely that a few ghosts of white-blue wick out like smoke or flames from his left eye. Some even manage to form the shape of a slug, strangely.

Micolash tries to drag his attention back to the conversation at hand, but it's hard. It's like fresh air every time! "O-Ohh, hello again, Lady Nightmare. If you had to say, what...does your name evoke more? A solar or lunar eclipse? Both are powerfully important, of course."

[efyoukinggaron]

"Michi, it turns out, had meaning in both Nohrian and Hoshidan languages."

There's a lounging dragon a little far away who overheard Micolash's question. His tail flickers as he stares over... or as much as it's obvious, seeing that his eyes are hidden.

"The Nohrian meaning derives from a name questioning one's similarities to a higher being, or so it says. The Hoshidan meaning- at least, the form used for my name- translates to path, which is quite appropriate to my current situation."

His tail moves again.

"Being from two royal families, I also have last names. 'Saitou' translates to 'purifying wisteria', while 'Clarkenstein'... Uh, I never learned what that meant, now that I think about it."

[invisiblebonds]

Another person not particularly interested in Micolash himself, but his question.

And this one? Hoo boy, Robin's got a doozy of an answer. The curse of an amnesiac.

"Apparently I'm named after a bird?" He shrugs. "I'm not sure what the name Robin comes from."

Honestly, I'm so sorry for the Muse Bomb, you just asked the right question.

[secretlyaketchum]

"Wisdom."

The youth isn't even looking at Micolash. He's facing back, enjoying a meal, Thora doing the same.

"That's what 'Satoru' translates as. 'Kawaguchi' can be translated to 'mouth of the river', where the family started."

[chiron_survivor]

Enough time has passed since Adia's last encounter with Micolash that her collection of library books are ready to be returned. Back goes the Shakespeare, the Norse mythology, the books on magic that weren't super helpful and the pokémon tome that she has borrowed so many times, she ought to buy her own copy.

The wind is a little cooler, and she tucks her scarf in a little tighter as she approaches the caged scholar and his litter of sketches. She has a good idea of what he's working on, and it brings a small smile to her face.

"Hi, Micolash." She peers at his latest attempt. It's... something, all right. Not the scariest thing she's ever seen, though. Not by a long shot. "Which Great One is that?"

As for his question, she nods in quiet confirmation. "My parents picked 'Adia' out of a baby name book. They thought it was pretty. It means --" She pauses, and that mild smile disappears, replaced with a look of tired resignation. Even in her own name, she is not free of the Divine.

"...it means God's gift," she mutters, already cringing at whatever Micolash is going to say in response to that.

[grantuseyes]

"Adia!"

He sits up fully when he spots her, then picks up the drawing he'd been working on with both ink-stained hands. Holding it for better inspection. "This is Rom, the Bergynwerth Spider. She is terribly dear to me especially, so I thought it wise to begin with Her. What do you think? Gorgeous, isn't she?" Maybe if Adia compares the two Great Ones she's seen so far, Rom doesn't seem so bad. Better than a painful wad of eyes, brain matter and hair.

As far as her name meaning, Micolash hoots when he hears it. "Oohoo! Serendipitous! And you question your...magnetic qualities to the divine with such a name? "But what do you think; are you the gift, or are you receiving their gifts? Which would you say?"