Conversation Space II.

[powersthatbe]

As Thorne shared with the network, Travelers who vanish find themselves alone in a small room. But it doesn’t look quite as described last time. Paper lanterns hang in the corners, and a lemniscate of live, spicily scented blue roses traces a figure eight on the floor. A little marble plinth sits beside the looping roses, with a champagne flute balanced on it, pink, fizzy liquid quietly effervescing within. In place of the throne that was there before, each half of the loop holds a brown leather sphere - a yoga meditation-ball chair. They’re a little tricky to balance on.


The walls, floors, and ceiling are tiled, a prismatic fade from one color to another, each tile unique, just slightly different in hue than those around it, each colored line giving a sense that it belongs to a bigger pattern, but never revealing enough to allow anyone certainty about what that pattern might be. It is only a glimpse of a larger world… in this small, quiet space.

Comments

[callmemeibe]

"Hints have been given, as the narrative allows," she answers simply. "But phase three shall, in theory, be clearer."

The eight armed woman nods at her questions. "Yes, yes... and yes."

[mysunnydisposition]

Steph stares at her for a moment, waiting for further elaboration... but of course, she's not getting it. She clenches her jaw for a second, taking a deep breath.

"Are we going to see you more often? Are we ever going to know what we're doing? ...a little more than yes or no answers would be really helpful here."

[callmemeibe]

"We as in my Chosen? Yes. The Travelers... less so. I do not wish to appear to all. Many of you would attack us. And you will know what I require. That is, when I require it. For now, I require nothing but... understanding."