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Jan. 28th, 2025 02:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wizardprodigyOne of the Nexus' many features is, surprising no one, a portal. It's a portal with a black center and for the longest time, it's pulsated with swirling fingers of white light. It's fairly nondescript as portals go, and while the air around it tingles, any attempts to go through the portal simply lead… well, to the back side of the portal.
Today, it hums.
Today a wave of not-quite purple washes through the swirling arms, and the hole opens up to a library.
A library with a tiefling inside it, who pokes his head through, looks around for a moment, then withdraws.
A few minutes, then an hour passes as the portal goes dormant once more, no sign of the tiefling or his library visible through the center. Time ticks by, minutes and hours passing by before finally, the portal sparks once more.
This time, when it opens, the center of the portal is reinforced by a golden metal frame, and the tiefling comes through with a satchel laden with books and scrolls, dragging a table full of mechanical and alchemical contractions behind him. There's a giddiness to his movement and he grunts and curses the table where he wants it, even when he has to frantically rescue some of the instruments from falling. Then, once everything is settled exactly how he likes it, the real fun begins.
At least for the tiefling.
He spends a few moments recording readings from the array of instruments and meters, muttering excitedly to himself before plopping on the ground and digging through his satchel. Amidst the scrolls and books, he finds one of the many pamphlets explaining the Nexus and its rules. Regarding it with narrowed eyes, he pulls out an hourglass and sets it aside, returning his focus to his research.
The hourglass is flipped three times before the tiefling looks up from his work, tail swishing on the ground behind him, and he poses his questions.
"Has anyone here determined what happens if you don't ask a question? How long can you go without asking a question before something happens? Why is a question required? How poignant must the question be to be considered acceptable? Is a simple "How are you?" enough, or must it be philosophically intriguing?"
There's a pause in the tiefling's barrage as he scrunches his nose, scowling deeply at nothing. Then he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and relaxes, adding on his final question. "I suppose I might as well ask if anyone has seen a man named Lorroakan, by any chance? Human, red hair, thinks very highly of himself, and has a temper that Devil's would envy."
((Hello, I am new. I know it's been quiet but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So here I am. Venturing.))
Today, it hums.
Today a wave of not-quite purple washes through the swirling arms, and the hole opens up to a library.
A library with a tiefling inside it, who pokes his head through, looks around for a moment, then withdraws.
A few minutes, then an hour passes as the portal goes dormant once more, no sign of the tiefling or his library visible through the center. Time ticks by, minutes and hours passing by before finally, the portal sparks once more.
This time, when it opens, the center of the portal is reinforced by a golden metal frame, and the tiefling comes through with a satchel laden with books and scrolls, dragging a table full of mechanical and alchemical contractions behind him. There's a giddiness to his movement and he grunts and curses the table where he wants it, even when he has to frantically rescue some of the instruments from falling. Then, once everything is settled exactly how he likes it, the real fun begins.
At least for the tiefling.
He spends a few moments recording readings from the array of instruments and meters, muttering excitedly to himself before plopping on the ground and digging through his satchel. Amidst the scrolls and books, he finds one of the many pamphlets explaining the Nexus and its rules. Regarding it with narrowed eyes, he pulls out an hourglass and sets it aside, returning his focus to his research.
The hourglass is flipped three times before the tiefling looks up from his work, tail swishing on the ground behind him, and he poses his questions.
"Has anyone here determined what happens if you don't ask a question? How long can you go without asking a question before something happens? Why is a question required? How poignant must the question be to be considered acceptable? Is a simple "How are you?" enough, or must it be philosophically intriguing?"
There's a pause in the tiefling's barrage as he scrunches his nose, scowling deeply at nothing. Then he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and relaxes, adding on his final question. "I suppose I might as well ask if anyone has seen a man named Lorroakan, by any chance? Human, red hair, thinks very highly of himself, and has a temper that Devil's would envy."
((Hello, I am new. I know it's been quiet but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? So here I am. Venturing.))
