Futuristic Arcadian Dreamers Character Sheets

[YohhananArbuckle]

Hey all, this will be the thread that people post approved Arcadian Dreamer characters in.

To apply, read the intro post in the Main RP, skim the Lore, skim everybody else's character sheets, and then fill out a profile and either DM it to me or post it in OOC for approval or change requests. I do not intend to be too picky about approving profiles, so don't be nervous! The only thing that would really bother me is a direct, egregious contradiction of something that has already been said, but I won't be like mad that you missed it or anything. I know it's hard to keep track of this much text. Once you're approved just post your profile here!

Also, note the use of "Motivations" on character profiles. The idea is that your character should either be trying to accomplish something specific on Port Gladys, either alone or as part of another player's Motivation. Work together on these, if you can! It will be more fun for people to have storytelling threads that overlap.

Below is the character template - if you are someone who loves to decorate feel free to decorate. I am not much of a decorator.

Basic Info

Name or Names: <What is your character's official name and what do they go by, if there's a delta>
Age: <Most Association species are fairly long lived as a result of medical technology>
Species: <If this is not a species described on the lore page, write up info about this species, including appearance, customs, relationship with the Association, and anything else you think is interesting. If it is okay I will add this to the Lore page.>
Appearance: <Written or an image, if you can find one that speaks to you>
Personality: <Self explanatory>
History: <Self explanatory>

Motive: <This should be a one paragraph max description of what your character is trying to accomplish in Port Gladys. This should have some urgency and be something you’d be happy writing about in a vacuum. The idea is that this will go on the front of the RP and become creative fodder for other people who want to entwine their stories with yours>

Capabilities

Skills: <What is your character good at?>
Augmentations: <In the Association, most individuals are modified in some way, either with cybernetics or biological engineering. What has been done to you?>
Holdings: <What does your character own that is helpful and interesting?>

Dreaming

Dream World: <Describe the world your character visits every night when they sleep. What does it look like? Do others live there? Does it have a history you have gleaned? Dream worlds range from claustrophobic to overwhelmingly vast, from mundane to incomprehensible.>
Dream Avatar: <In the Dream you are always the same entity. What is that entity? What is it capable of in the Dream? How do you appear to ‘fit’ into the world of your dream?>
Dream Powers: <What abilities can your character manifest in the waking world? Look to the Lore info on Dreamers to understand what is possible>
Perception: <When other dreamers get a clear look at your face, for a moment they see your dream and feel what you feel. What is this like?>

 

[YohhananArbuckle]

Basic Info

Name or Names: Arrow-Errant Euler “Olly” Fairbanks
Age: 75
Species: Human
Appearance: Olly has an unassumingly pleasant face framed with curly black hair, swept back with a bit of product and deliberately teased into leaving a few ‘loose’ strands at the front. His eye implants are dark brown and expertly crafted to resemble the original deal. Olly is even still capable of lacrimating, but if you look close enough you can see that his pupils refocus and resize much too quickly to be natural. He occasionally forgets himself and blinks with only the transparent diving eyelid that came with his Pioneer’s Suite.

Like all appearance conscious humans in the Association, Olly’s skin is unblemished, his teeth alabaster white, and his nose exactly the right shape and size for his face. The procedures cost almost nothing, and not getting them is more controversial than getting them.

Olly’s height is above average and his build approximately that of a barn door, a consequence of having his physique surgically replaced with one meant to pack maximal punch into the human form. In the warm weather of Port Gladys he has taken to wearing a lot of linen shirts and light woven chinos. As a matter of course he always tries to cover his arms, legs, and torso fully, to make it less apparent that he is wearing an armor underskin and carrying a gun. Neither of these things are illegal in the Association - they aren’t even uncommon, but they do make normal people uncomfortable.

Personality: Olly has perfected a zenlike disassociation from the strangeness and chaos of both his Dream and life as a Silver Arrow operator. He has an absent minded, amiable mien that puts people in mind of a knowing and personable academic. He is a gracious if easily distracted conversationalist, and he does not threaten or bully if there are other ways to accomplish his objectives. In his youth he had a hair trigger temper and was angry at the world, but as he has aged he has come to accept that the best he can do is to act honorably and fix the things he knows how to fix. The miracle of modern medicine is such that he has another century of peak health to enact that creed.

Olly works with the Association but distrusts and dislikes it, regarding it as a government that embraces and enhances sapients’ worst traits rather than mollifying them. He often jokes about retiring to Tang Sho or Networked Ascendancy space when he has had his fill of being the big hero, but in truth he would never abandon his home across the stars. Olly is totally committed to the vision of the Silver Arrow’s eternal Matriarch, and would happily lie down his life in her service. The Silver Arrow is one of the few organizations that can credibly claim to have made Association space a better place in the last fifty years, and that is largely due to the expert maneuvering of its Matriarch.

History: Olly started having his Dream when he was four years old. It is accurate to say that he was a child, and then he was the Upright Man, and then he had to figure out how to be himself. His parents were uneasy with the serious, worldly, martial minded youth that they found themselves raising, but they were thrilled that their boy was someone special and did their best to accommodate and teach. He didn’t appreciate it as a child or teenager, but he appreciates it now. Nothing bad happened to them, by the way - he tries to visit at least once a year.

The nature of his gift made him an obvious target for recruitment by the Silver Arrow, and they approached him post-university and his final round of civilian augmentations. At the time he was something of a political firebrand, and it was easy for the Association to make a pitch that stuck. After a brief assessment period it was determined that Olly’s skills were too finely tailored to fighting and dying to be used anywhere else, and he was put into the wetworks department. Olly, who already felt like he’d been something of a soldier his entire life, took up the role with gusto.

He spent twenty years under the mentorship of one Augustus Lawson, an augmented Dreamer who was a sun god of immolation and sacrifice within his dream realm. The two travelled the length and breadth of Association space, handling Dreamer or simple political business that required an ungentle touch. In that time Olly has fought with or against members of most major species and the official armed forces of the Association and several outside polities. That said, the Association is a big place of exceeding political expediency, and the Arrows an influential enough organization that hard feelings are purposefully not cultivated. When it was determined that Mr. Fairbanks had enough experience, he was promoted to the rank of Arrow-Errant and began to receive solo assignments, of which the posting to Port Gladys is his thirtieth.

Motive: A dream cult has started to take root in one of the sadder boroughs of Port Gladys, and the irrepressible Mr. Fairbanks has been dispatched to get a hold of the situation and then draw up a plan of attack for neutralizing the organization, root and branch. The operation is Association sanctioned but under the control of the Silver Arrow, a secret society of Dreamers dedicated to countering the wicked or overreaching among their kind and generally fighting the good fight.

Capabilities

Skills: Olly professionally hunts Dream Cults, the establishment or joining of which is a death sentence in the Association. He is a masterful battlefield tactician and operator, a thoughtful strategist, and a spy with nearly fifty years of tradecraft experience. His specialty is working within Association space, so he is well versed in their bureaucratic systems, their various intelligence and security services, and their battlefield doctrines.

His work leaves little time for the cultivation of other hobbies. Olly would tell you that he enjoys puzzles and is something of an expert in pricey liquor.
Augmentations: Olly’s augmentations are both extensive and top of the line. However, care has been taken to maintain a largely human appearance - dramatic deviations from the norm draw attention.

Adrenal Regulators: Much of what occurs when humans are stressed or frightened is at best counterproductive. Adrenal regulation systems modify the fight or flight response of the subject, causing distress to heighten awareness and physical capability without corresponding jitteriness and panic.

Synaptic Quickeners: Modifications to the human nervous system that allow for heightened reflexes, fine tune motor control, and improved input processing times. Individuals with synaptic quickeners tend to be very impatient.

Military grade neurocranial sensor array: A complex suite of instruments and organic modifications centered around the nose, eyes, brain, and skull. Integrated electronic sensors detect phenomena that humans are not intrinsically aware of (radiation, magnetism, radio waves) and augment the existing senses of sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing. Military grade versions of this suite are capable of decoding encrypted signals that the Silver Arrow have cracked and providing finely tuned awareness of aggression or dishonesty in others.

Silver Arrow SatNet spinal uplink: The uplink allows Olly to communicate with the Silver Arrow operations network via his thoughts. It allows him to receive and requisition data, as well as requisition support from nearby Arrows or cooperating local governments. Because of the sensitive nature of what goes over these uplinks, they are some of the most heavily encrypted and expensive pieces of computing machinery in known space.

Broadband cognitive engineering: An enhancement that almost all humans receive in the Association. Processing speed is enhanced, as are mathematical and spatial reasoning ability, language skills, emotional intelligence, and information acquisition and retention.

Fiber alloy musculo-skeletal enhancements: An invasive and painful process usually undertaken only by those who expect to spend their lives in physical danger. Olly’s bones have been ‘seeded’ with a biologically active alloy that provides a latticing intra-skeletal support system and a tough outer sheath, massively improving skeletal resiliency. His muscles and tendons are also partially mechanical, having been enhanced with ultra high tension and strength metallic fiber bundles. In a pinch, Olly can bite through the armored fingers of a Druner, bash a reinforced security door off its hinges with his hands, or quite literally rend lightly augmented organics limb from limb.

Torsal redundancy systems: Extensive rewiring of the torso bound organs to reduce kill likelihood due to small arms penetration. The heart is replaced with three small, efficient hearts distributed through the chest, and a similar process of miniaturization, duplication, and dispersion occurs for other mission critical (that’s most of them) bits. People who have undergone this process are a bit like zombies, in that you have to destroy their brain to reliably kill them.

Pioneer’s suite: Survivalist enhancements favored by those working in dangerous environments, exploring the frontier, or concerned that unfriendlies might try to gas, lacerate, space, poison, or drown them. Oxygen retention systems, minimized oxygen consumption needs, and minor diving organs implanted into the eyes, nose, and throat allow the Pioneer to survive vacuum or aquatic conditions for up to two hours, and nanobot support for the immune and digestive systems eliminate ingested toxins and provide protection from all but the most cleverly engineered pathogens. Clotting is also dramatically improved, although that is a standalone and inexpensive enhancement that most humans get as a safety precaution.

Holdings: Membership in the Silver Arrow implies access to transport ships, comfortable accommodations on most worlds, and the ability to access advanced armories or medical stations as needed. However, the core of Olly’s kit, which he carries pretty much everywhere, are the following three items - as missions dictate this can be fleshed out with additional hardware:

Ascendancy Battleskin: Technology acquired from the AI savants of the Ascendancy, the Battleskin is a comfortable tight fitting bodysuit combined with defensive field projection armbands and waist wrap. The whole ensemble is thin and light enough to be worn under normal streetwear, although there is no hiding the fact that it is combat armor and a forcefield from even the most rudimentary security scan. The skin’s primary advantages are that it is lightweight, comfortable, and capable of temporarily dampening even sustained automatic fire from small vehicle mounted weapons systems.

Schmeer and Omondi Overlander: A long barreled hand cannon favored by wealthy individuals who need stopping power and some discretion. The Overlander fires an powerful short burst directed energy beam, and advanced optics and cooling systems mean that it is both unusually accurate and fast firing for a laser pistol. Olly wields it in his right hand.

Silver Arrow Medusa: A prototype melee weapon manufactured by the Silver Arrow. A corded bracelet of silver that Olly wears upon his left wrist, the Medusa unwinds and becomes a prehensile yard long length of metal that can grasp, crush, and lacerate with fearsome strength and speed. While the Medusa seems to bob and weave around Olly with a mind of its own, it is in truth directed by the wearer.

Dreaming

Dream World:
The Ten Ten Thousand Free Republics: An alternate reality where human civilization on Earth was wiped out some time in the twenty third century. Even in his role as the Upright Man Olly does not know what happened, or if that question means anything. The Free Republics have been the way they are for so long that the details of the End have devolved into competing mythologies and folk tales, such as the inhabitants of the Republics are able to tell them.

In the Free Republics the sky is pink and gritty in the day and black and utterly devoid of stars at night. Ruined cities and townships dot the countryside, connected by disintegrating roads. What tatty remains of civilization can be found paint a picture of debauchery that does not align with any known human civilizations of the period. Swamps, forests of deadwood, and rocky wastelands dominate the landscape.

The inhabitants of the Republics are the Gremlins, human beings mutated into quite literally unbelievable shapes and driven mad. Gremlin settlements feature impossibilities of every variety. One man’s neck blossoms into hundreds of stems upon which hundreds of marble sized heads sway in the breeze. Another has a fanged maw where his stomach should be and must be chained to a tree at all times. Still another has a torso ending in a lump of stone, and goes about balanced on his fists. Gremlins approximate human civilization by selecting the biggest and meanest among a grouping to establish a farcical approximation of governance. These ‘countries’ never control more than a town or two, and are forever at war with one another as a matter of course. A Gremlin leader cannot explain why this is, or why anything else is - no Gremlin can really ‘explain’ anything. Their chatter is disarmingly human at first but as one listens it becomes clear that the structure of the language masks a total void of meaning.

To Olly’s mind, the most interesting aspect of the Republics is the chance that they are in some sense a real end state that mankind has avoided. He is fascinated with artifacts from the Republics’ past, and collects them in a manor next to the sea that no Gremlin dares enter.

Dream Avatar:
The Upright Man: A person, at least Olly feels like he’s just a person, wearing scuffed and fraying body armor that covers up his whole body beneath the neck. He is also wearing a black cloak with the hood pulled up and a mask of silver, fashioned into an impassive human face topped with laurels. Olly has never physically been able to either remove the mask or pull down the hood of his cloak. He carries an antlered short bow.

The Upright Man is, according to Gremlins, a Devil that may be summoned, bound, and unleashed on enemies with an offering of sufficient old world knowledge. This is true to the extent that Gremlins possess the irritating ability to ‘summon’ Olly if they get their hands on old travel brochures or DVDs or movie posters and say a few magic words, but false in the sense that Olly has never once felt he was under an actual compulsion to assist. He keeps the con going because it means Gremlins give him the stuff he’s looking for, and when his ‘contract’ is at an end (usually massacring some other group of poor Gremlin bastards), he is banished back to his house with all of the stuff. Olly has worked out that this happens about twice a week, and seems to be a global practice. He has seen what is left of London and of Lima.

On the hunt the Upright Man is a shadow who cannot be struck, winking in and out of existence from one location to the next, firing his fearsome bow that changes anything it hits, unerring in his aim. Gremlins do not deserve much sympathy - they are horrid brutes if given even an ounce of power, and Olly has come to regard their culling as an unsavory game he must play if he is to ever understand what happened to this place.

Dream Powers:

Vanishing Step: Olly can phase sixty feet in any direction by taking a single step forwards or backwards, and he can do this repeatedly. It means he is almost impossible to keep out of things, and that he cannot be pinned down in any environment where there are shadows or nooks to retreat into. He uses this ability to keep his distance from well armed opponents and to aggressively close the gap with the undisciplined and the underequipped, who tend to panic once someone is in their face.

The Dreamhorn: Olly can manifest the bow that the Upright Man carries and use it to wreak havoc. The blue fire that it emits when nocked and loosed changes anything it touches. Limbs sprout, matter phases, space is transposed, life is created. The process is instantaneous and generally fatal for organics and mechanical equipment alike.

Perception: The chattering of a hundred voices, each clear, rushing through speeches that at first seem sensible but come to mean nothing and flash menace. A brief vision of dozens of misshapen forms huddled together on benches or shuffling around in the shadow of a decaying building. Absolute chaos, those same things charging or retreating or scattering to the winds. The draw-loose draw-loose creak and twang of an ancient weapon.

 

[Auda]

Basic Info

Name: Puhn

Age: 163

Species: Kalikiarbo (Singular) | Kalikarbos (Plural)

The Kalikairbos live in tribes that inhabit most places in the galaxy and are a solitary race, preferring to live their entire lifespan inside their territory without the disturbance of others. To the few that have had the opportunity to meet them, their descriptions of the Kalikiarbos can be summarized by "Sentient Flora'', which is true to some degree. Their humanoid body is seemingly made of wood with tufts of leaves, vines, and flowers adjourned on their head creating the illusion of hair. Their general appearance also differs depending on the planet that they are inhabiting. Kalikiarbos that live in a colder climate will have a more spruce-like appearance and are usually devoid of flowers compared to those who lives in a hotter climate, vice versa.

In terms of abilities, the most known skill that the Kalikiarbos have is the sharing of memories and experiences through the connection of their roots, which is also their main way of communication. When they meet other Kalikarbos from a different tribe, it is only customary to connect roots and show one another their whole life as a sign of trust and camaraderie. Though there are Kalikiarbos (Usually those who are not a part of a tribe) who dislike the idea of sharing their entire life and will avoid connecting roots which is frowned upon. Their other abilities, just like their appearance, are heavily dependent on the environment they live in though all Kalikarbos can manipulate fauna in some capacity.

Kalikiarbos are fiercely protective of their land and heavily dislike it when an outsider comes unannounced. They may be labeled as a passive species by the Association, but the damage that they can inflict for such a small tribe when angered is large enough to dissuade most of their attackers. Though, in some cases (Usually in heavily Urbanized areas) where they are overwhelmed, the tribe will surrender their home and will look for a new place to inhabit. Though this is a hard process resulting in the tribe disbanding and the members going on their own ways. In their core, the Kalikiarbos are peaceful and will only bite back when cornered. Kalikiarbos understand that there are multiple living organisms in the vast galaxy that they're in and not all the species are reliant or can survive in the same conditions as theirs. To keep everyone satisfied, they usually send out a representative to discuss living arrangements to the other inhabitants of the planet to secure a plot of land that they can call home. They don't care what the other inhabitants of the planet do with the remaining unclaimed lands.

Generally, Kalikiarbos are not members of the association. They don't have a problem with them, it's just that they could care less about them and what they do with their time. There's a somewhat unspoken rule/agreement of "don't disturb me and I won't disturb you." But as other planets continue to advance and urbanize, there are more tribes who are fearing for their lives and are starting to stop their solitary lifestyle and instead align themselves to the association for protection.

Appearance:

Personality:

Puhn is trustworthy and an optimist by nature. Growing up surrounded by his family who have never wished him harm, he will never think that the other party has a bad intention and will instead assume that what they are saying is true. He will believe a word of a complete stranger as quickly as the word of a friend. As a result, this will lead him to be fooled and taken advantage of multiple times but he will learn as time goes by and with every mistake he makes.

He also acquired a strong sense of wanderlust after being a hermit his whole life. He wanted to see the world beyond the canopy of trees and the idea of an adventure fills his heart with endless amounts of joy. He is usually seen wandering around and cannot be trusted to stay put for even a second. His curious nature leads him into dangerous situations and he sometimes forgets his main goal as he is easily distracted by the most mundane things.



History:

Puhn lived most of his life on a planet called Luzor along with a very small tribe of Kalikiarbos. Growing up, he was sheltered by the forest and was rarely exposed to anything, save for the occasional individuals from the ‘Association’ that wanted to make an agreement with their tribe. But even then, they were quickly scared off by his kin. When asked why, The elder of the tribe promptly dismissed the question, saying that it’s how life has always been and that a solitary life gave them peace. Puhn cannot disagree with the elder because for how long he’s been alive, he has not faced hardship inside the forest, but he felt like there’s more to life outside of it.

Life continued on and the feeling of stagnation never left Puhn’s body. He yearned to step foot on anything but grass and moss. He wanted to explore the concrete jungle his brethren occasionally talked about. One day, an opportunity, though an unpleasant one, came when a severely injured Kalikiarbo returned from the outskirts of the forest and opened his mind with the rest of the tribe. It seems like the other inhabitants of the planet are quickly advancing and are getting more aggressive, wanting to claim the forests as their own. If this continues, the peace they enjoyed for decades will be taken away and the small tribe had no hope of fighting back. After a long deliberation, the elder finally decided to enlist the help of the Association after brushing them off for a long time and asked for a representative to go to the planet Arcadia to negotiate with them. Seeing this as an opportunity to see the outside world and to help the tribe at the same time, Puhn quickly volunteered himself. He was then given a satchel by the elder and left the following week.


Motive: Due to the growing threat that his tribe is currently facing, the elder decided to align themselves to the Association for protection. Puhn quickly volunteered for the task and left his home to venture towards Arcadia in hopes of seeking help within the Association. His thirst for adventure and the dream of seeing the world outside the forest also inspired him to take on the task. Taking two birds with one stone.


Capabilities


Skills:


Adaptation - Kalikiarbos can quickly adapt to the environment they're currently in. This prevents negative effects from the weather and other natural disadvantages.

Green Thumb - Kalikiarbos, after living in nature and being nature themselves, can control flora on command with ease. They can also communicate with the vegetation that surrounds them though most are not able to form a coherent thought or emotion.

Photosynthesize - Just like most vegetation, Kalikarbos will feel more alive in the morning, giving them a physical boost. A drawback is that they will be more subdued and passive, opting to 'rest' at night. they will once again wake up as soon as they feel the sun on their body. In instances where the sun is not accessible, they can choose not to rest but they will be at their weakest state.

Pet Pal - After living inside the forest with no one to besides his kin, Puhn has learned how to effectively communicate with animals through body language and the occasional vocal sounds.

Regeneration - The Kaliarbos can regenerate wounds faster than usual. They can even grow new limbs and put back a severed one, though it is a much slower and is draining process. They are also almost immune to most poison that is not artificially made.

Augmentations:

None - Puhn spent all of his life inside a forest and just recently left for his mission.

Holdings:

Satchel of essential things - A satchel filled with things that will help Puhn travel between planets such as a Dummy Card with enough currency, and a pass, to name a few. It was given to the elder of his tribe by the Association when they visited in case he changed his mind.


Dreaming


Dream World:

Puhn’s Dream World appears to be an overgrown city with abandoned buildings covered by moss, vines, and massive trees growing through them. It is a combination of his home in real life and the outside world he longs for. Multiple nature spirits that glow in different colors and have different elements inhabit the buildings and take care of the mini forests and lakes that are littered across the lands. Deities are the ones who oversee the lands. They are homed up above, rarely seen by others but their presence is reassuring enough that you can feel it wrap around you like a warm blanket.

Dream Avatar:

When looked at, Puhn seemed to show an Ethereal glow. But just like the moon, His glow is only borrowed light. He cannot be seen unless he is surrounded by the spirits, with Puhn’s body reflecting their colors that’ll outshine even a prism, a spectacle the deities enjoy watching. Whenever Puhn visits, a festival is usually held where all the spirits fly towards the night sky, joining the divinity as they form stars and constellations that surround the moon, Puhn.

Puhn’s abilities inside the dream world are dependent on its inhabitants. He can borrow both the Deities’ and Spirits’ power and sometimes even fuse them that he can freely use inside the dream without tiring. He usually terraforms lands, grows forests, and manages the many seas at their request, never using the power he has for his own good.

Sunflowers follow his body and vines comfortingly wrap themselves around his feet when he walks by. The trees move their branches to provide him shade and animals can be found following his trail whenever he goes. He is loved by the spirits and cared for by the divine. The residents of the land, especially the spirits, refer to Puhn as a Merciful King or Benevolent Creator for his strength and the deeds that he has done. Even the Deities are aware that he is the most powerful inside the dream.

Dream Powers:

The Spirits and Deities that inhabits Puhn's dream can be temporarily manifested by him in the real world and offer their help. He can ask the Spirits to do minor tasks and are mainly used for utility. (Fire spirits to provide light or to set fire to things, Water spirits to procure water to drink, etc,.) While summoned deities are mainly used in a more offensive or in a larger scale manifestation, though after the manifestation Puhn will be greatly weakened and is barely able to walk for quite some time.

Perception:

When looked at, the observer will immediately feel drowsy. A strange calm will wash over their body, loosening their muscles and limbs. They will see the night sky with different colored stars dancing around the moon. After what it seemed like an eternity of bliss, a sudden weight will be put on their shoulders. The feeling of a thousand eyes watching their body from all directions and then judgement. The promise of responsibility. Lastly, the feeling of an adventure, of a never-ending journey.

 

[Ambiloquous]

Callista Micael

​

Basic Info

Names: Callista Micael, Kali, virtually every Portuguese endearment
Age: 46 years

Species: Singular Gelaris | Plural Gelari
The Gelari are the progeny of a moon jelly (Aurelia aurita) and Irukandji jellyfish (Carukia barnesi) hybrid. As a partially humanoid species, they have a transparent upper body that matches those bipedal fur-less simians in appearance if not in function. Most of their body is some pale shade of translucent, usually a faint blue or yellow with no noticeable organs inside their figures. Instead of sporting legs below the waist, they exhibit a rounded, gelatinous bell, four fringed, retractable tentacle-arms and multiple thinner tentacles. Known for being peaceful to the point of irresponsibility, there is hardly anything that can ruffle their fringes or cause them alarm. Informing a Gelaris that the universe will be destroyed in a day may just leave them more easy-going than the day before.

There are certain abilities that apply across most Gelari, the most notable being that they can embed toxic stingers into victims that dare touch their lower half, are bioluminescent by nature, can regenerate abnormal levels of damage, and are able to "float" through water and certain gases. (Details are elaborated further in the skills section of this CS.)

Once they may have had a comprehensive culture, with distinct beliefs and customs, but their population is now too split among different societies and so have mostly assimilated into indigenous practices. Of course, there are always outliers that claim to follow traditional ways, though it’s been so long that nobody is sure if they actually are inherited from long-ago ancestors or if they are simply made up by a fellow with too much imagination to spare. A prominent group is Medousa, a small organization obsessed with keeping their authentic, oceanic way of life intact. No matter who or what the Gelaris was before, the group will take them in if they want to join. A large part of Medousa is made up of isolationists and added onto their general carefree nature, they don’t meddle much in anything outside of their sphere of influence.

Their relationship with the Association is neutral. They are not partnered with the Association, but neither are they particularly hostile. They tend to migrate all over the universe and so cannot ally themselves with a specific interstellar society in fear of retaliation from another. Most of them have little ambition to govern anything anyways, including themselves.

Appearance:

(Look mostly at the bottom half, ignore the dress-like top and the hair.)​

Callista is 3.38 m tall, from her head to the longest tentacle, and weighs 4.99 kg (11 lb), which is about the heft of a tremendously fat human newborn or a 2.5 month old human babe. She has four fringed tentacle-arms, spread evenly apart, and thirty-three tendril-thin tentacles that ring her bell.

Her body is a cool-toned, translucent blue throughout, with no variations or discolouration common to Gelari of mixed ancestry. Her jelly-like hair is kept in a self-cut short bob after too many disastrous haircuts over the years left her disillusioned with her local hairstylist. Bright t-shirts in varying levels of hideous often peek out from under her Curious Creatures apron, and her sense of style leaves most people with something to be desired.

Personality:
Callista is bitingly unfriendly even at the best of times, and nobody has seen her at the worst of times. They aren’t sure if it’s because she’s at her worst every time or she simply never falls low enough to show them. Even if she performs what society deems a righteous deed, she’ll still act as terrible as ever to her savees. It’s not exactly the most attractive outward personality, but it works for her, and she couldn’t care less what most people think otherwise.

With those she’s close with, she isn’t much different from what she shows everyone outside. She may be a bit more affectionate and might be willing to talk about feelings once in a blue moon, but she still treats her friends with as much sting as a jellyfish can. It's less of the great abhorrence for the universe she once had and is now more of a habit than anything.

Though most wouldn’t think of her as a knight in shining armour of any measure, Callista does have a set of rules she lives by and will take action if something goes against her personal charter. She wouldn't really admit that she has standards to her usual company, considering the bunch she interacts with on a daily basis. While intervening in activities that go against her increasingly dubious moral code is annoying at best and life-threatening at worse, she still does so that when she finally leaves Arcadia, she leaves without lingering guilt. Callista would hate to remember Port Gladys and feel somehow responsible for the atrocious acts that happen there. Acquiescence is only one step away from acceptance, after all.

History:
The first thing Callista remembers clearly was being smuggled into Port Gladys through specialized organ traffickers. Back then, she still had a faint hope that her parents, if she had any, would find her and bring her back home. She waited for six years, but there was no sign of anyone searching for her, so she finally gave up that idea and grew up. Executing a plan that wouldn’t have worked if her captors were any less foolish, Callista and some of her fellow merchandise escaped confinement during a devastating cyberattack.

The years on the streets afterwards weren’t much easier. In fact, it could be said to be quite a bit harder with there being no guaranteed food or shelter. But she forced herself to go on, especially on days where everything seemed wearisome and nothing would ever be enough. Her only solace in the gloom was her sole friend and family, Micael. But that was short-lived too.

When she was twenty, Callista was taken in by a shady man running a dingy pet shop after he saw her aptitude with certain animals. After a scuffle with the group that ran the area, he was booted somewhere and she was made the owner of the shop. She didn’t mind being boss, and she definitely didn’t mind her trashy saviour being kicked to the curb, though she found the illegal services a little iffy at first. Soon enough though, she was going at it like any slum-dweller with a passion for survival.

Motive:
A few decades ago, Callista and a friend that was smuggled into Port Gladys through illegal channels finally escaped organ-extracting captivity, but the friend promptly disappeared a few months later for unknown reasons. After years of searching, Callista may have a new lead in the suspicious new dream cult growing in the ghettos and is planning to milk it for all its worth.


Capabilities

Skills:

Species Skills​

Stinging Venom
Cnidocytes, specialized stinging cells, line a Gelaris’ tentacles and bell, containing harpoon-like organelles called nematocysts that shoot microscopic, barbed, thread-like tubes that possess toxic protein. The nematocysts are triggered by touch and can fire in less time than it takes lightly augmented humans to blink.

Once upon a time, species with particular traits or thin skin perished from their deadly toxins, but unfortunately or fortunately, times have now changed. With the genetic and cybernetic engineering the greater population has access to in the hypermodern era, the venom will at most be very, very painful, and if one is specially augmented against it, they might only feel minor stinging. Possible symptoms of Gelaris toxin include a change of skin or surface cell colouration, swelling in the stung area, nausea, vomiting from orifices, headaches if the victim happens to have a brain, muscle spasms in case of muscles, and heart or breathing problems with those that have hearts, lungs or gills or a similar organ.

Physical Regeneration
Cut off an arm? No problem! Stabbed a hole in her gut? She doesn’t have any! The only organ Gelari cannot regrow is the brain, everything else is fair game. There are restrictions though, as with everything in life. It takes months for a limb to regenerate to an extent that it can be used normally, and the nutrient intake during that time is substantial.

Built-In Bioluminescence
Gelari maintain a constant chemical glow, but based on standard human vision, the faint light is only visible in the dark. A substance called luciferin in their bodies reacts with oxygen to release energy, and light is emitted.

Variable Buoyancy
As a lightweight species, Gelari rely on their physical configuration and natural ability to float in lightweight gases. They would have never been able to immigrate to land-based societies without it, with their flimsy limbs and gravity doing its work. While the skill is a boon most of the time, it can also be a somewhat miserable liability. Their bodies are prone to drifting away in harsh winds, being tossed about in strong storms, or getting dragged around by a particularly touchy-feely person.

Personal Skills​

Rapid-Fire Calculation
A see-through brain doesn’t mean there isn’t one, and Callista proves it through her speedy mental math. It’s a no-brainer for any shop owner who doesn’t trust other people (or technology) enough to count her money.

Augmentations:
Enhanced Eyesight
Through biological improvement from questionable sources, her below average eyesight was improved to above average.

Deadly, Deadly Venom
Callista has upgraded her venom cells so that her natural stinging tendencies are controllable and a touch can actually kill people, depending on the species and extremity of augments.

Holdings:
Curious Creatures
An illegal pet shop under the jurisdiction of a certain corporate criminal gang. It’s small, as clean as an old-fashioned pet shop can be (credit to Nettle the robotic assistant), and tucked away in a ghetto part of town. The interior of the store may be unappealing for genteel eyes—not that there would be any of those in that part of Port Gladys—and similarly as tasteless as Callista’s clothing, but it is “quaint” in her own unconventional fashion.

Nettle
A robo-helper that does everything from cleaning the shop to stocking the shelves to basic customer interaction when Callista is out. Nettle is cheap, is easy to fix and breaks more often than her owner would like in her only employee.


Dreaming

Dream World: A selva | The Jungle
A selva is a massive rainforest that spans an entire continent with dangerous animals large and small, a multitude of spectacular plants in both form and function, and small tribes of peoples living between the forest and the sea. Explorers and adventurous travellers periodically visit by ship, though most never go too deep for fear that they might be swallowed up by a man-eating plant or the deadly winged serpent.

The sky reflects the sea here, and stars bob and swirl in space-blue waves at night. The constellations change every minute of the day, with planets and stars drifting away and meandering closer through illusory tides.

Dream Avatar: Régua da selva | Ruler of the Jungle
Ruler of the Jungle, King of the Beasts, Born of the Jaguar; all those appellations and many others are what dwellers on the edge of the great jungle know of her as. When they look at her, they see a paradox of every organism in the jungle and herself in a moment. A scale may flash on her cheek, but the next moment, it is gone; a stripe of tiger fur on her back, but soon enough, it is scarred dark skin. She does not have a name that can be called by tongue, only a series of sensations, different for every individual, that can be passed through beings on her land. One gourmet of foraged foods who managed to meet her recalls it as the taste of dew-sprinkled fern and ripe citrus with a dash of ground cinnamon.

She rules over all that choose to live within the jungle, but only ever commands organisms capable of reacting to outside stimuli. (Micos the Rock is special.) The tribes of people that live on the edge govern themselves without interference. Even with those she does rule over, she takes a very laissez-faire attitude in going about it, with the belief that she should let nature take its course and little intervention is the best intervention.

The abilities of any creature she governs are hers, though she can only use one specific skill at a time and never at full power. She can combine adaptations of certain organisms with other organisms temporarily and can puppet their bodies if she has the need to, but both only work if she has their explicit permission.

If she had no power and no people, her appearance might have been that of a wild-eyed girl-child with a mess of curly, black hair and a multitude of white scars on her copper-dark skin. Perhaps her guardian would have named her Amaru, for serpents and wisdom. She could have chosen to be a hunter, with too much energy for gathering delicate herbs and fruit. But that is a possibility that never happened, and never will.

Dream Powers: Chamado da natureza | Call of the Wild
Animals that were under her rule in the jungle will also obey her commands outside of her dream, and the closer she was with their kind, the better the control and more detailed her orders can be. She can temporarily augment them with plant-like features that would not likely work outside of her dreamscape, but the traits must exist on flora in her jungle. Go too far, and she will end up with plant-animal monstrosities she cannot change back, but the opposite is also true. Some changes are so subtle that they are unnoticeable to even a trained eye.

Perception:
Flora is everywhere in sight; lush grasses and tropical flowers rise from the wet dirt, sky-scraping trees and draping vines soar far above the verdant canopy. There is barely any sky to see; every inch of space is covered in colossal greenery. Senses tingle with the smell of forest after the rain, the sounds of birds singing and streams blurbing, the crunch of twigs and leaves underfoot.

It is beautiful in the way all natural wonders are beautiful, but not all beautiful things in the jungle are agreeable. Bright and dark eyes stare from the shadows, a length that was a vine moments before slithers upwards, and a silent brush of fur is felt behind a knee.

Others that enter the land of never-ending wildlife may fear it, but for one who calls the jungle home, she feels only love for subjects, for friends, for family—an encompassing joy and pride for the place that is her own.

 

[Blemmigan]

• Basic information
• Description
• Background
• Capabilities
• Dreaming

• Name: v'ksk'rk
  Vocal approximation: Vixkrik
  Brood name/surname: Ditis Phi
  Age: 52
  Species: Druner
  
  
  
• Appearance:
  Like others of his kind, Vixkrik has the appearance of a large arthropod, with six pairs of "arm" limbs along the part of his body which stands upright. Each hand has five digits for manipulation, although the lower four are kept tucked against the body most of the time. The lower four limbs are larger and sturdier, enough for his lower body to balance the upright torso and move with ease, the overall shape of his body forming an S with a more elongated tail.
  
  To those who have never before encountered a druner, his face is perhaps the most surprising thing to encounter, particularly as it stands roughly six and a half feet off the ground, towering over some smaller species. Even when calm, and the mouthparts are closed, the sheer non-humanoid shape of them can be unnerving. When eating or frustrated, the jaws open, and as with all druners would be capable of inflicting a nasty bite, though it would be incredibly unseemly to do so. They are not a dangerous species, and besides: the translator that Vixkrik wears over the lower half of his face hides his mouth.
  
  A reference for the face/mouth setup is a devil's coach horse (with closed and open jaws: beware the latter if you're scared of insects!), but with smaller mandibles.
  
  Their bodies are also covered in a tough exoskeleton and chitinous plates which is difficult to damage more than superficially, particularly on the main trunk. The face and end of the limbs are easier to injure, and they are more susceptible to poisons and nerve damage than might be expected. They have vestigial wing cases, but no functional wings nor ability to fly, which must have been lost when they grew to a certain size. They have a good sense of smell, but prefer texture to taste. Hearing without augmentation is not as good as most species, with a range focused around the chitterings of their own languages. As for eyesight, their two eyes give them an excellent field of view, and though they prefer dim to bright light, it's not enough to really limit them in a multi-species society.
  
  Like most of his species, Vixkrik finds clothing neither necessary nor practical, but has embraced the habit of engraving and inlaying his carapace—in some places with gold, no less. Back home this would range from arrogant to ridiculous, but here it seems to be ordinary or expected, even amongst the few other druner he encounters who have adapted to this way of life. Engraving one's carapace is commonplace (and only lasts about a year on adults, until the next moult), but using gold to inlay or tip the mandibles would be reserved for great historical figures.
  
  Personality:
  Druners are social creatures by nature. They are also intelligent, perceptive and precise when compared to other species on average. And Vixkrik is all of these things... but when compared to others of his kind, not exceptionally so. Between his pride and the circumstances of his hatching marking him for great things, he was unable to accept this and remain on the planet he was hatched, and so left it to begin a new life amongst beings of lesser intellect. Or, as told himself, to make his own way in the world, without having to be constantly reminded of his siblings' successes.
  
  Being on Port Gladys has gradually smoothed out his morals and warped his sympathies. It's not that he is particularly unkind, rather that he is wary of being taken advantage of, and far more aware of the importance of putting oneself first. But he likes to be liked and respected, and even if he doesn't think that somebody is sincere in their intentions, he will enjoy their company for what it is. But if he doesn't know or see somebody, then they might was well not exist.
  
  He often has the tenancy to miss the bigger picture, focusing on the detail. He would focus on untangling the threads in front of him without even being aware that he was unravelling a tapestry. When he does take notice, what's really happening can be overwhelming and out of his control, and he would much rather either ignore it, leave, or find somebody else to fix the issue. In more recent years he's realised the value of throwing money at a problem to make it go away. So long as his core values are safe (so long as the numbers keep adding up), he has somewhere safe to retreat to, and the rest of the world can be detail.
  
  
• History:
  Vixkrik hatched in a golden brood: one of sixteen hatched out of eighteen viable eggs total, named for the passing resemblance to 1.618. Golden broods are rare enough to be considered auspicious, and those with a sense of superstition believe the sixteen will achieve great things. Often they do, although perhaps that is a side-effect of constantly being told of their potential.
  
  But he is not one of them: intelligent, but not far above average for a druner, if at all. Many of his siblings went on to become respected members of society, undertaking important research in particle physics, developing technology, and in at least one case, becoming the planetary representative for their species. They had the capabilities, but most of all they had the ambition to believe that there was something special about them.
  
  Some of this may have taken root in Vixkrik's thoughts, but he still left, hoping that it would clear his head. He got on well with people of all kinds, and enjoyed talking to them and understanding them, so found that he did not miss being around other druner. If anything, he was relieved that his previously-mediocre abilities were suddenly impressive. So it was that he came to Port Gladys with no specific plans but an attention to numerical detail, and quickly found work as an actuary. Calculating risks by unpicking the threads of probability that ran throughout the world... it was easy and obvious, and he would have been content to stay there were it not for two things.
  
  Firstly, he spent a lot of his time alone, or with a few others who stumbled over the work which came so naturally to him. Those who came looking for insurance or loans spoke to his superiors, and those superiors often used Vixkrik's delicate calculations to rob them blind. Which was bad enough, but secondly, his employers were growing rich off his work.
  
  Druners are not naturally drawn to money: wealth is in acquaintances and the proof of hard work, and hard work in itself is worth nothing if it doesn't help others. But Vixkrik had been in Port Gladys long enough to learn what money could do, and how desperate people could be to get hold of it. So he left, and he along with an anonoki and a hamaedron began his own insurance company, Arcadian Assurance, this time feeding off the rich and careless instead of the desperate. Anything from personal islands to expensive augmentations to genetically engineered pets, all unnecessary belongings carefully calculated for risk and value for those rich enough to pay anything that appears on an officially stamped invoice.
  
  Perhaps they told themselves that they were doing good, or more evenly distributing wealth. But Vixkrik's moral compass was largely thrown off by apathy towards those he didn't know, and the two others seemed more interested in growing rich and careless themselves. They spent, augmented and gambled too much, and gradually became less interested in the work that paid for it. They argued and fought between themselves, and more than once Vixkrik had to intervene. They were a little scared of him: partly because of his size, but mostly because he was the one keeping the money flowing in, with his expert tweaking of statistics and barely-noticeable skimming of funds. They knew he had plenty of money stored away, but had no way to reliably betray him and get to it. But the thought that one day they might... that was the probably the only thing which kept the two co-owners from killing each other.
  
  Of course Vixkrik knew this. And of course they knew that he suspected them. So he took care to never be alone with them, to divide and hide his funds and make sure that they would be obviously inaccessible in the event of his death. To make sure he was always seen. To keep track of his co-partners as much as he could, while also trying to stop them from doing the same to him. To plan vacations to coincide with his moult, when he was most physically vulnerable. To try not to let his caution fester and become paranoia, by never, ever saying a word about his suspicions to anyone, just accepting it as another part of this life.
  
  Overall in life, he is successful, but not in any way that the druner society would find worthwhile: he has applied his knowledge to nothing useful or innovative. But Port Gladys has changed him enough that he doesn't care, and finds satisfaction in what he has achieved despite what he knows his siblings would say.
  
  Some time ago, he started Dreaming.
  
  No, he had been Dreaming for a while now, recurring dreams which happened more often until they pushed out everything else in his head while he slept. But druners had never thought much of Dreaming: it interfered with the belief that the world is a closed system, and ultimately solvable. All actions have consequences. All is harmony. But Dreaming... it made no sense, and druner society as a whole had silently, instinctively agreed to ignore it. They could concede, politely, that it existed for some people, but to them it was not worth thinking about. There had been no druner who Dreamed, after all. Or none that they knew of.
  
  So it took a while for Vixkrik to put a name to what was happening, or at least to admit it to himself. And, like the rest of his kind, and like his attitude towards problems as a whole, he did his best to ignore it. He thought that he met another Dreamer, once, and he left as soon as he realised what was happening, perhaps even before this other Dreamer had taken a good look at the visible half of his face. That was another reason to move in the circles of the rich and decadent—these were people who tended to focus on the physical and the present, not waste away time in some other world. They tended to be lax with augmentations, personal details, tracking and sharing data, too: how else would everyone know what they had? So it was easy to know everyone's business long before you ever had to meet them.
  
  It was a world he had grown comfortable with navigating. So long as he could carry on surviving within it.
  
  Motive:
  The Arcadian Assurance Company, which he has put so much into running and managing, is threatened by his two co-owners, who want to kill him for money, dissolve the company and run. He is secretive about his life, to try and prevent them from finding a way to kill him (poisoning, or physical attack during his upcoming moult) or accessing any of his bank accounts. As it is now, his death would render them untouchable. The more time passes, the more he thinks he ought to just have the two of them killed first...
  
  He's also just starting to realise that his Dreaming might be useful, though he's wrestling with his personal and cultural beliefs about Dreamers too much to fully embrace it.
  
  
• Skills:
  Intellect - As is common for druner, he is clever, quick and well-educated. Combined with his connections, this makes him fluent not only in book smarts but the social politics of the upper classes, constantly predicting the risks of scenarios and people around him. However, it is tempered by his tendency to simply ignore the things he doesn't like or consider important. It's been a long time since he first came to Port Gladys, and he's dismissed what it's like on the streets, or how to navigate the shadier parts of the city.
  Specifically, his talents are in mathematics, finances and statistics. He was also able to understand and write Basic quite well before getting augmented, though he is of course completely unable to speak it.
  Networking - (See "holdings") At least at the moment, Vixkrik has enough of a presence and reputation (and is recognisable enough) that he knows most people's businesses and locations of their assets, can get into upmarket places, or cash in favours. Amongst the wealthy, anyway.
  Strength - Or, more accurately, intimidation and a tough carapace. He is neither armed nor trained in fighting (after all, in his current life he doesn't need to be), with his natural appearance enough to deter people who don't know him, and potentially balance out his ignorance and carelessness with the more openly seedy underbelly of Port Gladys. But, if absolutely necessary for him to discard his dignity and fight, he could probably hold his own for a time, assuming that the people trying to take him down have no experience with how tough a druner can be.
  Druner tendencies - Despite having lived on Arcadia for decades, he is still comfortable in dark or close spaces like where he was raised. He is suited to seeing in dim light or hiding in small spaces (that is, small compared to his size). He would also be capable of carving a tunnel through the ground, although this requires both bare soil (increasingly rare in the city) and a good enough reason to suffer the indignity of digging in the first place. (That's for children who don't know how to behave in proper society. We have perfectly good rooms and corridors to use without destroying the place.)
  
  Augmentations:
  Translator - He wears a translator over his mouth, covering most of it. This picks up the sounds and movements in real-time, converting it into Basic speech that can then be translated further (if necessary) by the listener's personal software. As druner speech relies heavily on mouthpart gesture, it works far better than basing it off sound alone. Without it, others would still be able to use their own software to translate what they heard, but it would be far less accurate (and hardly professional if discussing precise business terms).
  It also has the added effect of hiding his mouth from those either not used to druners, or not comfortable with seeing it while they're deciding to entrust him with their finances.
  He can eat and drink while wearing it, but it's not ideal, so if eating alone (or amongst those who don't care about niceties or precise language) he will remove it.
  Internal augmentations - A host of practical augmentations that it would be stranger not to have for someone in his line of work. An implant for understanding other languages, including reading and writing them. Microchip markers which allow him access to his private rooms and personal accounts. A short-range link to mentally access his important notes from a file, which can be loaded with the relevant data before a meeting and allows for a more professional handling of conversation than physically referring to a screen.
  Hearing - Druner auditory range focuses on higher frequencies and quieter sounds than most, and living in a city with dozens of other species made this irritating enough for him to have it altered. It was simple enough to widen the range—a procedure that's normally part of a specialist or military sensory upgrade—and when combined with his natural capabilities, it gave him hearing far above average. It's an augmentation that wouldn't be suspected for an actuary (particularly if somebody knows nothing of druners), and he is happy to let people be ignorant to it, and allow him to overhear conversations they are trying to hide.
  
  The only noticeable alterations to Vixkrik's body aside from the translator are aesthetic: he had the option for further convenient augmentations, but found that he was unwilling to change himself any further from being purely druner. Despite having left his home planet and people behind to start afresh, he still has pride in what he is. Perhaps it's easier to have that pride when there are few others of his kind around to be compared to, and he is no longer considered average in ability.
  So, he engraves his carapace with striking grooves on his head and upper torso, and has had a few other minor cosmetic changes that most other species would not even notice or find important. So no other increased senses, no greater strength, no resistance to poisons or tougher carapace or anything that might be useful to somebody with a more dangerous life.
  
  Holdings:
  One of three owners of the Arcadian Assurance Company, along with an anonoki (Ona-ti) and a hamaedron (Crimaron), who have since been more interested in taking the money and running rather than continuing with the business. But Vixkrik being the brains behind the operation means that he works hard to keep it going, still bringing in more business from their offices overlooking the harbour in the richest part of Port Gladys.
  So he has plenty of money stashed away in various protected accounts, and also has many connections with the rich, and enjoys moving in extravagant circles, being just polite and trustworthy enough to make these people feel that they aren't being ripped off. While not living as lavishly as his two squandering co-owners, Vixkrik is a known presence at several restaurants, clubs and social gatherings.
  Of course, if the company were to fold, and if he were to survive it, there would be a lot of very wealthy, very angry people ready to turn on all three of them.
  
  
• Dream World: The Gloam
  Dream Avatar: The Hermit
  
  World: The Gloam
  The gloam is dark, and anyone else one would have only the vague sense of emptiness, a vast, featureless plain only slightly blacker than the grey sky above. The Hermit is well-suited to seeing in dim conditions (perhaps he dreams memories of caverns and tunnels), but he still carries a staff from which hangs a lantern, the white light inside casting a circle, which sways as he walks.
  
  The ground constantly moves, rolling and rippling, and illuminated it is not solid at all, but the surface of a vast sea. The air is always still, the sky is always empty of moon or stars, and the sea is without smell or sound, barely cold or wet at all, and the Hermit's footsteps hardly make a wave.
  
  He cannot sink. The staff cannot pierce the surface, and the lantern cannot be extinguished. He has tried, only once, to kill the glim-light, but it seems to be neither bulb nor flame, only something constant and slowly pulsing white within the glass, suddenly blinding if looked at directly. Out here, it is the only light there is, and the things beneath the waves are drawn to it. They reach out in dozens of alien forms, fingertips or tendrils or claws brushing the surface of the water from underneath, bleached by the glare like bloated corpses. They cannot or will not answer his questions, but some of them reach specifically for him, as though desperate to be pulled from the depths.
  
  Some of them, the Hermit remembers (from the other life, the one he dreams about), but they vanish and sink before he can look again, and outside the circle they may as well be invisible.
  
  He cannot rest here, so he walks, leaving pleading faces and hands in his wake.
  
  There are islands in the gloam, but they are impossible to see until he feels solid ground beneath his feet, and they seem to drift randomly on the water. Sometimes he can hear them: the sighing of the tide against sand, or the echoes of sound from the places themselves.
  
  Most islands are small, bordered by sand which feels sharp as glass after the nothingness of the water, but they are a welcome change from the void. It always feels as though he has been wandering the sea for months, and each time he believes that he might never find land again. Perhaps they wait until he has almost given up before appearing, or he is able to summon them in a way he cannot control.
  
  The lantern shines brighter on land, just for a moment, and when it fades and he opens his eyes again the glass is dark and empty, and the scene around him has changed completely. He is somewhere in his other life, with people that look familiar to the sleeping part of his mind. That part knows, too, that he's watching the recent past, or near future, or present.
  
  To the Hermit, the scenes are random, but it is better than the sea, so he stays and listens without understanding, a visiting ghost that none of the others notice. More recently he's learned that he can move amongst the scenes, opening doors, manipulating computer screens, searching through bags, and the scene ignores him completely, snatching things from his hands and returning them to their rightful places if it would interrupt the sequence. The part of him deep inside his mind is always looking for something, information, but it is quiet, nothing more than a whim, and sometimes he ignores it.
  
  The scene always ends eventually, and the room or area is left empty, or littered with motionless players that have come to the end of their purpose. Leaving the scene is easy: using any door or walking away from the centre (however far away the boundary might look) will cause the place to decay, buildings crumbling, plants growing wild, people and animals turning to dust. Everything dims again, and finally the lantern relights, leaving him standing in the middle of a ruin surrounded by black water, as though it had been standing there for a thousand years.
  
  There is nowhere else to go, so he steps back onto the sea.
  
  Avatar: The Hermit
  The Hermit is identical in build and natural features to Vixkrik, but without ornamentation, engravings or augmentations. He does not speak (there is nobody here to talk to), but can understand the languages in every scene even without a translator.
  
  His only possession is the lantern, which hangs from the end of a heavy wooden staff as tall as he is. It appears to be iron and glass, the light inside modest but seeming bright in the gloam. The light source is impossible to make out, leaving only an impression of something shining white, pulsing slightly, suspended in the air within. It hangs by only a simple metal ring, but never falls, even if the staff were to be swung, and the Hermit knows to never leave it behind.
  
  The scenes he visits almost always involve people that Vixkrik knows or would recognise, though they may be set in places he has never been, and always they are conversations or events that he is not a part of. He has no control over what the scenes will be or who will play a part in them (at least, not at present), and due to the malleable nature of time within the Dream, they may even be happenings from in the near future. He cannot influence events: though he can temporarily manipulate and search the environment to explore it, it always quickly returns to how it was, and none of the players seem to notice any difference.
  
  As far as he knows, he has never seen another Dreamer in these scenes, and it is unknown if they would act like everyone else, or if they would somehow be aware of his presence.
  
  Vixkrik's influence over himself as the Hermit is more of a suggestion, navigating a dream which is not quite lucid. When he wakes, his knowledge of what he saw and heard is often hazy, filing itself away in his memories without record of where it came from as though he refuses to truly believe it.
  
  Undoubtedly this lack of true connection between his awake and Dreaming selves is due to Vixkrik's disconnect with the notion of Dreaming as a whole, and denying his own part in it. Were that hurdle to be overcome, the two of them would likely merge and allow him greater control over his avatar, and potentially further abilities.
  
  Dream Powers:
  It's worth noting that these are, at the moment, potential powers, or possibly activated unintentionally due to the disconnect between his waking and Dreaming self.
  
  Stepping backstage: Instead of visiting a scene by searching through the gloam, Vixkrik can slip "backstage"- the world continues as normal, but as though he were the Hermit, nobody can see or hear him until he returns. He can spy, eavesdrop, search files, rifle through belongings as he would in the Dream, but cannot permanently influence anything, nor be influenced in return. He also cannot take anything back with him, other than knowledge of what he has seen, and as soon as he steps back into the waking world, he is noticeable and part of it again. To anyone watching, he would blink out and in of existence, though the "vanishing" is less likely to be noticed than the reappearance.
  There is the potential here for him to take others with him backstage, though they would also need his help to leave.
  
  Interval: Similar to being backstage, but one step further: he disconnects from the waking world enough that time is frozen in place around him. It does not last for long, and requires constant sheer willpower to keep time stopped throughout, making it less useful for focusing on finding information, and better for getting away, or buying time to think.
  
  Perception:
  Loneliness: not the sheer helplessness of a druner alone in the world, but something vast, eternal, and accepted, a quiet wisdom. A sense of loss without grief. A hundred pairs of hands underwater, fingertips barely pushing through the surface, trying to grab hold, close but all too far away.