synopsychic | This is not the leap I asked for. Backdated to week 1.5, dec 22

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This is not the leap I asked for. Backdated to week 1.5, dec 22

[ This livestream crashes onto the network with a visual burst of green. Someone is running through the trees, though quite high up. He leaps from one branch to another, tugging himself higher and moving faster than he would on ground (though he still prefers buildings to all this foliage). His eyes dart dizzyingly to his next hold and the next, moving with the ingrained speed and creativity of years of training and a determined efficiency. Something snarls behind him. A quick glance back shows a damp Eren pelting towards him below on the ground, running faster than expected of any un-totemed merperson.

[ Altaïr breaks through the end of the trees into the blinding sunlight, stopping on a branch. The land ends in a cliff, and the sea rushes below. He leaps out to dive, the air whistling faster with his descent...

[ Several minutes later, a calm psychic "voice" appends this to the post: ]

I found Malik. He bit me.

[ Even without actual sound, it still comes through surly and annoyed. ]

I also saw Eren, Infiltrating as well. I've lost him, so the danger has passed. What I need most now is some... [ an embarrassed pause, ] woman's clothes, preferably ones that fit in this world. Tall ones.

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Did you deserve it?

[Drizzt's mental voice is teasing.]

I cannot help with the clothes, I am afraid. [But he's got questions.] But I can give my commendations to your skill at evading them.

No. It was an accident.

[ Is he really being teased by a teenager, is this what this day has come to? The compliment helps soothe his wounded pride, however. ]

Edited 2017-01-16 01:21 (UTC)

[A bit of a chuckle.

Also, this teenager is older than you. :|]

... Although I said I could not help with the clothes, perhaps I could see if any have been abandoned in the ship. ... But if you do not mind me asking, why do you need women's clothes?

Yes, it will be good to have spares until I can solve this... this problem. If you find some, you will know why I need them when you bring them to me.

[Drizzt is both amused and baffled by the secrecy. Enough that he's going to help. Women's clothes? Problem? He suddenly realizes what the problem must be. Altaïr has been polymorphed!]

By the gods. Altaïr, you mean--

[And Drizzt almost says it over the network, then stops himself.]

I will endeavor to find you clothes quickly.

[ Hearing an oath does not comfort in the slightest, not does the mention of his name in public. It's hard to hide a name among the Travelers, but ever since he found out that people could be stalked by just their name, he'd like to at least try. Still winded by almost drowning, he doesn't want to broadcast his location to the entire Network either.

[ private, psychic protection I ]

If you do, you will find me on the beach on the [ he gives the side of the island he's on. ] Make sure I see you coming.

[... Altaïr. You're more paranoid than Zaknafein, and that is saying something. Drizzt does see the psychic protection go up and uses his own in turn, though, even if he thinks that it's a little paranoid. But also, he knows that he wouldn't want gawkers either if he was turned into a woman.]

I will see what I can find and will join you shortly if I am successful.

[Action]

[And, sure enough, there is Drizzt walking down the beach, clearly visible, carry a bundle of clothes.

[ What appears to be a tawny woman sits on the beach above the tidal zone with her legs tucked under her and a cascade of dark curls matted and dripping down her back. She is wearing a pair of antiquated men's boxers that might have been baggy on a man, but are now uncomfortably tight. A red sash is wound around her chest. Several items are laid to dry in front of her. A sword, short blade, and several throwing knives gleam in the sun—within easy reach. A light gray tunic, dark gray pants, and assorted leathers flap in the wind underneath the rocks weighing them down. They are recognizable as Altaïr's.

Altaïr turns his woman's head very soon, and frowns as Drizzt approaches. Close up, he is as muscled and scarred as he was when a male, but all this now lies on a differently-shaped frame. There is an oddly-shaped bite mark on his shoulder along with recently dried blood. He is damp and salty from the sea, cringing in his woman's skin and failing to hide it. He looks very much like an annoyed cat that has taken an unexpected plunge, complete with wet, tangled hair. He does not rise, but casts a suspicious look around. ]

I had to dry everything. [ he grumbles in a voice that sounds to him like a more mature version of the voice he had as a boy, but his surliness is the same. ] I dared not return to the ship, or risk drawing attention to myself and my clothes, which... no longer fit me.

Edited (Bite) 2017-01-21 00:47 (UTC)

Safety and peace, Altair.

[Drizzt has to hide a smile as he's reminded of--well, an angry, wet cat. He has brought other things with him, including a comb and a towel to dry herself with. The child does have a brain. But truly it must be uncomfortable to be changed into the other sex entirely, and Drizzt is properly sympathetic to how it must feel. Also, it's horrifying to wonder if it can somehow happen to him as well.

He wants to say something reassuring, but figures the surliness may only get worse if a child provides such comfort. Instead, he will be calm, and hope that it will influence Altair towards a better mood.]

These clothes should fit you better, then. If not, I can take you back to Liminal and one of the others can make appropriate garb.

[ He furrows his brows at him. Having his body changed against his will isn't funny. He stands, glad to get down to business, though still half cringing and slouching, as if that could hide his new state. He takes the topmost garment and begins wiping the brine off his face, which is now uncomfortably smooth and stubble-free. ]

Did you find undergarments as well? or shoes?

[ He's not quite tough enough to go barefoot across the island, and he'd really rather not have things bouncing uncomfortably around on his chest. The sash he's using as support and cover now hardly counts as clothes for blending in, and it has got to be dried in the sun eventually. ]

[Drizzt does have more of a measure of sympathy the longer he observes Altair. The poor man is very much not happy with his current state. Which... Drizzt can certainly understand. Drizzt would be incredibly uncomfortable if he was a female drow especially--a different reason than Altair's discomfort, he know.]

Both.

[Drizzt colors a bit as he finds a rock to set the pile of clothes upon.]

I-I was not sure of your size, so I brought multiple... undergarments.

[ He gives him a flat look. Way to make it awkward, Drizzt. He grumbles crisply, ]

Thank you. Now turn around and keep watch.

[ Taking off women's clothes, which he is familiar with, is not quite the same as putting them on. After removing what he had on, there is a great deal of fumbling and muttered curses about hair getting in the way before he's made any progress. After he's finally got the right clothes on the right parts of his new body (he thinks), he asks, ]

Now, do I look... normal? for this land?

[ He continues to tug and fiddle with his clothes, but nothing can assuage the feeling that this body ill-fits him. ]

[Drizzt obediently turns around, letting Altaïr have his privacy. He forces himself to remain serious. Poor Altaïr is not having a very good day.

When Altaïr speaks again, Drizzt turns back around and gives him a properly scrutinizing look. He smiles in reassurance when he's certain.]

Yes, you do. No one outside of those whom you tell should be the wiser.

[ He glances around again, then crouches to lay out his wet clothes and start rubbing the saltwater off his weapons with a bit of cloth from his new garb. ]

My thanks. Now I just need to find a way to change back. I have been told these symptoms manifest as the result of some outside force. Whether or not the same force will change me back remains to be seen...

[Drizzt watches the cleaning of the weapons with some interest, but not too closely to be invasive.]

In my world, magic often has something that opposes it. Fire opposes water, light opposes dark. Poisonous spells can be cured. There must be an equal but opposite reaction that will return you to your true form.

I am just about dry, so it cannot be being wet...

[ He hisses a little as he moves his arm, the bite on his shoulder smarting. ]

I have never heard of the bite of a sea person changing one's sex, but... Perhaps if it heals, I will return to myself. Seeking out Malik's Infiltrator and asking him to bite me again would not go well...

[ He rummages among the things attached to his wide belt. He hopes none of them are ruined. His first aid supplies are kept in leather pouches and sealed containers for this reason. He can always store them in his Hammerspace, but if he needs to help an Infiltrator, it might be awkward taking them out of that. He tugged the shoulder of the loose tunic down more and began pouring vinegar to disinfect. ]

We can hope it heals; the alternative would indeed go poorly, as you say.

[Drizzt tilts his head in thought.] The closest spell I know of is polymorph, which took another wizard to remove. I'm afraid this is out of my ability to understand the cause.

[And then he pauses for a second time.] Do you wish my help with the wound, at least? That much I can do.

I can make you whatever clothes you like, but may I ask why?

You just did.

[ Surly and childish. He is clearly not at his most charitable. ]

You will find out when you being me the clothes.

[ It's enough that he's allowing her to come see him and have her (undoubtedly loud and resounding) laugh. ]

Hm...well, if you're going to be coy, I suppose I can make them ahead of time and resize them once I get there. I lack the skill to simply clothe another person directly, but my Liminal Manipulation should be up to the task. Bandonese fashion, or should I take a guess at the other nations?

Edited 2017-01-19 20:03 (UTC)

I do not—I mean, if you can manage Paramoese, that might be better. But right now anything native to this world will do. I will see which clothes are best later, and which to use as spares. Life on the sea at least gives us the chance for variety.

[ private, psychic protection I ]

I am on [ he gives the side of the island he's on ], on the beach in the open. Do not try to sneak up on me. Not only will you fail, but I still have all my blades.

[ He has no patience for Beatrice's tricks, so he may as well nip that in the bud today. After what she saw him do to the vampire in Thorne's Dungeon, he hopes she will listen to wisdom. ]

It'll be a guess, but if I keep it simple, it shouldn't stand out much.

[Private, Protection I]

And I see no need to sneak up on you, although making it sound like a challenge is not something you usually want to do with me.

[Action]

[True to her word, though, "Miyo" approaches Altair openly, holding a bundle of clothes that a servant of a Venetian merchant might have worn in the late Renaissance - her best guess at appropriate Paramo fashion. Once she sees Altair, though, she just sighs sympathetically.]

...I see. A distressing number of people picked that one up.

[ Though he's managed to get himself dressed thanks to Drizzt, his clothes are a motley collection of whatever Drizzt happened to find at short notice on the Cornu. The long, waist-length curls he brushes impatiently from his face are... half-combed, as if he had tried to groom himself and gave up in frustration. The comb lies discarded on the sand. Laid out with more care are Altaïr's weapons, gleaming in the sun as they dry, and beyond them his original clothes, weighed down with tide-smooth stones. ]

Are you referring to the epidemic that has run unchecked among the Travelers?

[ Imri told him about that, to which this educated man's response was why the hell no one took precautions about it.

He is constantly aware of his voice sounding like a slightly different version of the one he had as a boy. It is not helping. ]

Historically, it's more virulent than influenza, and most people don't regard the symptoms as anything more than an inconvenience. Frankly, the Traveler population is a little too comfortable with randomly altering their bodies, if I might say so.

It does also have its benefits, I must admit.

Influentia?

[ It's Latin, or similar to it, but not very descriptive. Being under the influence of bad planet alignments, demon possession, or any number of explanations given to disease, was a very common reason ascribed to many sicknesses.

He rises and takes the clothes. At first he inspects them for traps or practical jokes, but then in earnest, because not only are these meant for the female gender, but they are also culturally unfamiliar. ]

This is... yes, these go on first... Can you keep watch?

[ He could keep watch on Beatrice with Blind Maneuvering, but not the rest of the beach. ]

Close enough. A virulent disease that tends to crop up every winter especially. In my world, there was an epidemic of it at the end of a war that probably infected more people than the Black Plague, although thankfully it was less lethal.

[She turns around and keeps an eye out for any other activity, neither wanting nor needing to see any of Altair's indignity. Naturally, she also continues expositing.]

In the world of Heartbeat Academy, they got an X-Pressure epidemic instead, and it stuck around for a century or more afterward. Incidentally, Jaunts where there are convenient history museums near where we start are the best.

Oh, did you need a veil or a head cover? I'm not sure if that rule applies in this situation. Or if you even had it in the 12th century, actually. Or if you care.

[ He never thought he'd prefer silence to exposition, but that is probably because he's trying to concentrate on laces and not letting fabric bunch oddly. He is honestly more familiar with taking women's clothes off than putting them on. ]

We do, but I do not care. Though, if there is something that matches the rest of this, I can protect my skin from the sun... Even if I did care, I am playing a role, remember? I am not about to draw attention to myself here by dressing like many would in my land, or kneeling in the approximate direction of a city that likely does not exist in this world.

Ahaha, that's an excellent point! Considerations must be made for dimensional travel, and appropriate disguises. I do think I can work out a hood that will go with that and keep your eyes and face protected from the sun, though.

[She'll concentrate on that while he finishes, rather than continuing to ask awkward religious questions.]

[ Super awkward, as he is apostate. ]

I think I am done. Tell me if I look as I should.

[ His hair is still a mess, and salt is still clinging to him. He's far from looking like the belle of the ball. ]

[She turns around and gives Altair a moment of honest consideration.]

You definitely look like a woman who's been stuck on a ship for weeks. Or shipwrecked.

[The smile is a friendly one, honest.]

Honestly I think it'll help the effect if you're not perfect. The important part is covering up and hopefully not having people confuse your two forms if you change back.

[Thanks to the magic of chronology, she's also able to whip up a linen kerchief of the right size to serve as a head cover, after again checking around to make sure they're unobserved.]

Here. The sun out here could get to be a problem without this.

Did you catch Tiresias Syndrome, like Alcuin has? Where you turn into a woman sometimes?

[The question is simply curious, with no ill intention behind it. Then concern edges into Imri's voice.]

Was Malik acting weird? He wasn't a stricken, was he?

Who said anything about turning into a woman? You cannot 'catch' being a woman, like it is some disease. That is not possi—The myth says it was done by magic. I have not disturbed snakes in their lovemaking, last I checked.

[ This is all very shocking, and his instinctive reaction to being out of his element is to hide everything. But the fact remains he needs to ask for clothes. ]

If Malik was Stricken, I would be dinner. No, my sudden fall into his waters surprised him. When he realized I was not a threat, he brought me to shore. He did not have a hungry look.

[ Living with a friend with the Atma virus means he is very familiar with what cannibal hunger looks like. ]

Well, you asked for a woman's clothes. [Imriel is D'Angeline, he realizes that there are other possibilities for why you might want them - but as a Traveler, not a D'Angeline, this is the most likely reason. Especially if you're asking publicly, and while seemingly in some distress.] And it doesn't make sense to me either, but there is a disease where you turn into a woman sometimes. Or an animal. Or a teenager. I have that one.

What does disturbing snakes in lovemaking have to do with everything? Is that part of the myth you mentioned?

[A sense of relief comes over the connection.] Okay, then.

Edited 2017-01-25 08:56 (UTC)

An anim—?

[ Okay, turning into a woman seems to be the least of his problems. A shock, but something he can get used to, and apparently not the worst thing that can happen. ]

A myth about Tiresias told by Ovid in The Metamorphoses.

[ There is a bit of psychic fumbling in the midst of his constant apprehension as he chooses his words. The reason is soon apparent: His cadence changes, and, for those with an ear for it, so does his language. In Latin he recites: ]

One day while walking through a green-grown wood
He thrust his stick between two monstrously
Large and love-joined serpents (and then, O mir-
Acle! ) was changed into a woman, and as
A woman lived for seven autumns. Then,
As he came to the eighth autumn he saw
The same two creatures in the act of love,
And stopped to say, 'If miracles are done
To those who strike at you and sex is changed,
I strike again—' And so he did; at once
His gender shifted to his sex at birth.

Oh! The name is the same. I guess that means they probably had the myth in the world the disease came from, too, and that's why they named it what they did.

[He doesn't repeat the assumption that this man has turned into a woman, since he doesn't seem to want to talk about it - even if Imriel's not really sure why.]

...That's a strange story. But then, I guess that's how myths usually go.

Describe the disease to me. What causes it to appear? How is it spread? How can we prevent it?

[ A thought has just occurred to him, inspired by the story. Maybe if he can isolate the cause, he can replicate it like Tiresias did, and get his body back. Being a woman is interesting, but he really prefers himself the way he is. Anyway, diseases are serious business for a man who predates antibiotics and most vaccinations. ]

I don't really know much about it. I'm pretty sure we haven't found a way to prevent it - and it spreads by contact, I think, but not always. Alcuin said there's Travelers who've been here for years that have never caught it, and ones who arrived and caught it right away, and others who were fine for a few months and then caught it.

He says that sometimes you can learn to control it, and you can change when you want to. I've started to be able to with my teenage form. But sometimes you can't, and then it usually has a trigger, though they don't always make sense. Sometimes it's an emotional state, or something that happens, or something you do. And sometimes the trigger to change back is the same, and sometimes it isn't.

But it's not dangerous or anything - sometimes it can be inconvenient, but changing us like that is the only symptom, and you can always change back eventually. So I don't think we've tried very hard to get rid of it.

It could be like a sleeping disease, taking a slow time to manifest. Anyway, yes, I seem to recall different versions of the Tiresias myth. Ovid gives it as the same action, but others say he had to leave the snakes alone, or trample them...

[ At Imriel's last claim, he becomes alarmed. ]

It is dangerous! What if you are talking to a native on a Jaunt and your emotions suddenly turn you into an animal or a woman? How do you explain that? How do you prevent yourself from being arrested for witchcraft? Or killed? Of course we should try to prevent it, like any disease.

...I guess so. But it's only if you can't control it that it's dangerous. And I don't think I've ever heard of that happening, even though a lot of people have it.

Has no one taken steps to inoculate against it?

I'm... not sure what that means.

The Network's translation might be muddling things... Do you remember the Jaunt in January City? Because they had no way to proactively guard against the plague, they enforced a mass quarantine that lasted centuries. All that could have been prevented: If a weakened bit of plague is given to a person, they become mildly sick, but after recovery, one cannot catch it again.

However, this Tiresias disease produces no sores, no obvious sick flesh from which to take samples. I am not a physician either; I do not know how they must be stored or how long to dry them. It is not a perfect process. People can still die from plague inoculation. I am sure one of the more future Travelers will be able to tell you how they have refined it after my time.

You... can prevent a disease like that? Would that work with Tiresias, when there's obviously something magical about it?

And how does that help the people that already have it?

Oh, I know nothing of magic. In my world, "magic" is the explanation people give to the mysterious and unexplained—or, often, an accusation against someone or something they do not like. If someone from my home were to see some of the machines of the twenty-first century, they might call them magic, even though they are not.

Whether magic, machines, or the unseen forces of the world, it must follow rules. For instance, you say that this disease is spread through contact, that there may be a delay in showing symptoms, and that there is apparently an outside force that triggers them.

Inoculation does not help someone who already has it. It just prevents it from spreading to uninfected people in its fully-realized form.

...I know magic is real in my world. But it's nothing like this. [Far more dark and sinister - the magic he knows in his world is death, plain and simple. The Aka-Magi could call upon death as an ally, and it would answer. He's seen it all too often.]

I don't know if anyone's done anything to... inoculate against it, though. I haven't been a Traveler very long.

[ He's tempted to ask the opinion of someone with more authority on magic, such as Beatrice, but... it's Beatrice. He doesn't trust her farther than he can throw her. ]

If everyone took disease more seriously, there would have been warnings about it.

[ Grumble, grumble. ]

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This is not the leap I asked for. Backdated to week 1.5, dec 22

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Psychic Protection I -> Action lmao

action, his life is suffering

action, Drizzt is like "oh tell me your life is suffering"

up to you whether its a complete set of clothes lmao

Oh my god, yes. If only because it means Drizzt is carrying a bunch of ladies underwear.

achievement unlocked: panty peddler

Drizzt's greatest achievement

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