nexus_crossings | (no subject)

Current Mood: curious

(no subject)

One 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.))

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With a snort through his nose, Rolan glances up at Martyn and gives him a look over, a wry smile curling one corner of his lips. "If your hair was considerably straighter, I'd almost think I was."

With a shake of his head, Rolan sets his writing aside and gets to his feet, dusting off his robes before offering Martyn his hand. "I'm Rolan, Master of Ramazith's Tower. I found the portal here buried behind half a dozen artefacts gathering dust. Are you a regular here?"

"My brother's is even curlier than mine." It was amusing to know there were more than one redhead around and Martyn couldn't help but imagining his brother meeting this man's 'friend'.

Martyn stands and takes the hand firmly. Like both of his brothers, he's on the taller side for a human. "Martyn Sterling..." He pauses wondering about the title for a second before adding. "Doctor of Psychiatry and Psychology."

Those were his titles, at least now. He wasn't like his third brother who still used the military titles. "No, not often. One of my current client's needs have brought me here. Are you a librarian or archaeologist?"

He's openly curious and guessing on the fact that this person was looking through piles of old artifacts.

"I confess, psychiatry and psychology are not fields I'm well versed in," Rolan says as he gives Martyn a polite smile and tips his head to the side, then begins to look over the Nexus, his golden eyes flicking this way and that. "A pity you're not more familiar with the location; I was hoping to find someone who's brain I could pick over the nature of this plane."

"As for your question, I am meither, my friend," Rolan explains, placing one hand on his chest and bowing his head. "I am a wizard of exceptional talent, and soon the knowledge to accompany it."

"As soon as I finish sorting through the mess Lorroakan left behind," he grumbles, lifting his head and glaring at the library just on the other side of his portal. "Lorroakan was the... former master of the tower, and he hoarded enough books and artefacts to make a dragon slaver in desire. As the tower's newest custodian, I'm doing my best to put things in order, which..."

Rolan sighs, slumping his shoulders as a low chuckle rumbles in his throat. "I suppose makes me both a librarian and an archaeologist in its own way."

"It's not a career for most." Even Martyn had problems dealing with some of the topics that his patients brought up, or he got too involved and sympathetic.

"I am not ignorant of this place. One of my long time friends lives here most of the time now." And he said that with intonation that invites questions. Even if he couldn't answer, maybe he could direct Rolan in the right direction.

"In my world wizards are, for the most part, are only fiction." He didn't come from a world that had wizards though he could probably argue that the aliens, if discovered, would be seen that way. "I could use a break from my own work, do you want some help?"

Wizard artifacts he didn't know but he had seen his fair share of alien items over the years.

"Few careers that involve the title of "Doctor" are," Rolan agrees with a soft laugh. "But they are no less important."

It's a bit grating to be told that his life's work is regarded as a flight of fantasy elsewhere, but it does spark a thought. A possibility that he had failed to consider in his eagerness to study the new extraplaner realm; did his magic still work here?

With a few quick gestures and a muttered incantation, Rolan throws his hands into the air and is relieved to see the familiar flash and glitter of Prestidigitation. The smug look returns to his face as he returns his attention to Martyn, gesturing to the last of the sparkling lights as they fade away. "As you can see, I am very real here."

"As to your offer..." Rolan mutters to himself as he trails off, retrieving the book with his notes and readings. "You said it's possible to remain here long term? How? What I mean to say is, if one intends to stay here for extended periods, are questions required at regular intervals, or is the first simply enough to count as a tithe?"

"I know several and I think they would agree with you."

Martyn is curious about all the 'different' beings here. Your perception is changed when your younger brother's childhood friend starts a family with an alien. "I don't doubt the realness of it here and if I am honest with you, a culture not recognizing something exists doesn't mean it isn't part of the reality."

His realm also thought aliens were not real even if one of their biggest celebrities was half alien. No one knew and he couldn't fault a magic user from hiding the same way if they existed.

"I think you are compelled at the beginning but after it is a matter of curiosity and assistance with so many different minds here." He wasn't sure but none that he knew who came here regularly complained of the burden of constant questions. Martyn was certain he would hear about it before anyone else if that was the case.

"It's true, there are a lot of short minded people in the world," Rolan drawls, then grimaces and scowls as he realizes just how condescending and dismissive it sounds. How close to Lorroakan it sounds. Rolan was better than that. Rolan would be better than that. "Forgive me, that was... a thoughtless remark. There are many causes for ignorance, and few are caused by the mindset of an individual."

Clearing his throat, Rolan gestures to the glowing portal and the library beyond. "That's part of what brings me here. I'm cataloguing and organizing Lorroakan's collection to determine what is safe for the public to interact with, and what must be left to more experienced hands. So far this realm seems safe enough, especially if it is some sort of living library as it seems, but I'd like a bit more information before I let the adventurers of Faerun run around here willy nilly."

Martyn shook his head at the apology. There was no need. "I am used to people speaking their mind around me. I'm not going to hold it against you if you speak your mind or without a filter."

His job was often to listen to people's more private and sometimes less acceptable opinions. "Often the ignorance is the will of people who would rather not be seen, or seen completely."

Hiding for safety was something he was familiar with in general and from his patients. His attention was on the portal and he was a little overwhelmed even if this wasn't the first portal he has seen to a world that isn't his.

"Maybe you should go to the housing office here and get a residence before bringing everything here, if it might be dangerous?" Martyn was being practical and could only imagine the chaos the rockstars he was currently dealing with might cause here. "Some of my clients have mentioned that their gods live, or visit, here."

"It's..." Rolan hesitates, pursing his lips and looking to side in the face of Martyn's graciousness. His feet shuffly awkwardly as his tail swings back and forth before he final settles on a way to articulate his thoughts and Rolan steels himself with a sigh. "It's not a matter of a filter, or lack thereof. It's about mindset. Lorroakan, my old master, he had a habit thinking he knew everything and treating people like things, and I'm doing my best not to fall into such habits as well."

What Rolan didn't mention was how close his own mannerisms mirrored his master's even before he was taken on as an apprentice. Of course, he'd developed his habits as a coping mechanism against a world determined to make him hate himself, but it scared him, how close he'd come to being a hateful man throwing his weight around because it was the only thing he had.

"Anyway-" Rolan clears his throat, pulling his mind away from the dark tangent and back to the present. "Encountering a god is not an uncommon circumstance on Faerun. I myself am acquainted with the goddess Selune's daughter," he adds with a smirk that is more fond that it is smug. "I owe her a great deal, though I believe she considers my debt squared simply for standing at her side."

"That part, I'm not concerned about. No, I am much more worried about adventurers treating this space like the Yawning Portal in Waterdeep," he rumbles, his eyes narrowing as his tail twitches in agitation. "Stomping around like they own the place, looking for fights and treasure, and making a bloody ruckus while they're at it."

Rolan shakes his head grumpily, scowl firmly in place. "No, I think for the time being, I'll see if Tolna would be willing to keep it behind her desk with the rest of the restricted items. Limiting its usage to those who cannot find the answers they're looking for in the rest of the library should suffice until people prove they can handle unlimited access responsibly."

A pause before Rolan adds, "Not that your idea doesn't have merit, of course. It could be useful to have a space where I can test things without endangering innocent lives."

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