Andromeda(RP)

Part One - Thu Sep 17, 2020 — 18:05:32
'...effective in her role of "cruel royalty".'

With that, Andromeda placed her worn quill down next to the page containing findings during her travels to The Bazaar and breathed a heavy sigh of relief while she closed her eyes to take in the stillness of the library around her.

She had existed in this land for almost 230 years. During this time she had known, loved, and lost friends and lovers, fought in the war for the crown prince of Thalos, weathered and wandered the lands alone during The Great Dark, seen her friends ascend into godhood,  and still...the quiet release of a good stretch and yawn after a long day of working at her desk was STILL the single greatest feeling in the world.

Freshly poured black gunpowder tea in hand, Andromeda softly padded toward the window seat at the base of the massive western window, past lazily drifting motes of dust, to gaze outward in search of any errant beams of sunlight that pierced the mists surrounding the Great Library of ASD. And found them she did; in subdued orange beams of light as the two suns dipped below the horizon, bathing the world in shadow.

A slight frown crept across her mouth as she realized that she had spent almost another entire day researching, transcribing, and refining texts from the Great Library and precious few minutes writing about her own experiences, let alone taking time to relax for herself.

"I suppose in an existence where the meaning of time is diminished...." she said aloud, startling herself in the process. How many days had it been since she'd heard her own voice, let alone anyone else's? Her thoughts usually echoed around in her head as she hadn't found reason to speak much since she sequestered herself away in one of the studies in the Great Library.

But maybe that was it. Maybe today was different after all.

With that, she slowly made her way around her chambers, gathering her trusty walking stick, several days' worth of supplies, and her traveller's candelabra in order to light her way as the shadows lengthened around her. With a short nod to her chambers and study, she gingerly closed the door behind her, careful not to make a sound. As she slowly strolled toward the front door, a wide grin slowly began to spread upon her face.

There was a skip...and a yell...and some running...and a leap...and a laugh...and a *SLAM*!...and the front hall of the library was as it had been before. Dust motes lazily twirling in the still air as dusk fell in the rooms of the Great Library. It slowly but steadily grew darker as candles began to illuminate the massive stony corridors.

But where there once was silence, the unmistakable sound of a woman running, laughing, whooping, and cheering through the mists permeated the library's walls. And from elsewhere in the mists, complementary cheers, giggles, cackles and yells echoed back to Andromeda from a girl much younger; one she thought had long passed herself.

And with that, Andromeda stepped out into the world to bathe in its splendor and revel in its beauty once again.

Part Two - Sat Sep 19, 2020 — 03:14:26
As Andromeda gingerly strolled down the hard packed road west into the great city of New Thalos, she could hardly believe her senses. In the distance, she heard the tell-tale sound of adventurers slaying all manners of beasties and the general murmur from the city before her.

The stunned archivist actually had to keep pinching herself to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep face-down on her desk again. She was just so ecstatic that the world was so bustling with life and...activity!

It was nothing like the last time.

Her feet had trudged forward one painstakingly slow step at a time down the empty road from shadow to shadow, ash to ash, and dust to dust. The twin suns and moon spun overhead as the days, months, and even years flew by with nary a whisper. This was The Long Dark; a long stretch of time when the world seemed to stand still. The air around her was so quiet that, if you listened hard enough, you could hear the very decay that slowly spread inward from the edges of the world. Andromeda had assumed that she would continue to maintain her silent vigils, floating from the Idiot Village all the way to the Forest Arden, and back again. Maintain them until, finally, the world swallowed her up, alone and surrounded by dust and the ghosts of her past friends; haunted visions of her own paradise lost.

But it didn't. It instead, inexplicably...slowly but surely got better.

Before she even really registered where she was, she was making the familiar turn northward at the western end of the Ishtar River, passing beneath the rainbow bridge to Asgard, and bravely crossing the River of Lost Souls to Trillian's hut. But instead of turning left into her chambers as she had done countless times before...she instead continued straight for some unknown reason and -- surprised -- found herself floating through space in the Immortal Riddle in the Doors of Perception. Remembering her younger days in the land and some of the social interactions from that time, she solved it deftly slaying the spaces between the words, and was greeted by a large, glowing helmet that she was...unable to wear yet.

Grumbling to herself and unsure why she had just bothered working her way through the long series of doors, her eyes were drawn upward for the first time in a while by something that gave her...pause. A storm was brewing in the sky and the Lord of Storms seemed distressed over

something. Not that it was particularly easy to tell when a storm was upset, but Tempest happened to be a friend of hers. He was a relatively young god, as far as gods went, and something about the Lord of Storms reminded her of a friend she had before The Long Dark. So, picking up her nest and stowing her useless helm in her backpack, she went to see what was the matter.

Tempest seemed troubled and simultaneously deep in thought and angry at the same time. Taking a pause before chiming up, she fixed a cheerful smile on her face before stepping forward. "Good afternoon, Tempest! How are you today?" He didn't seem to notice her for a little

while until he looked up and nodded in her direction. It turns out, he was looking for a place for a gift; he recently acquired a blue rose and wanted to plant it and give it to The Mad Florist, but was afraid he would destroy it if he got too close. He needed somewhere to plant the rose.

Andromeda stood there flabbergasted, unsure of what to say. Her eyes bounced back and forth between the Lord of Storms and the "useless" glowing, deep Questing Helm she had just acquired. It's like it was meant to be. Blinking several times, Andromeda raised the helm to Tempest, who looked equally as shocked. A breeze shook the trees around them. A tree fell in the forest. A dog barked. A wandering prophet sneezed. Tempest cleared his throat.

"Well...uh...I guess that would work. But it's going to need some dirt to grow in. Would you be able to fetch me some graveyard dirt? I'm not sure why I'm thinking that, to be honest....but I think that's what I...need?"

Nodding, Andromeda left to fetch the Lord of Storms his requested graveyard dirt and leave him to his troubled thoughts. She hoped that he would manage to work through whatever it was that was bothering him, and she also hoped that this meant The Mad Florist would be returning. She was a bit of an amateur gardener herself, and she would love to talk about growing methods with him and...

She stopped in mid-step. A frown spread on her face. She had never gardened here a single day. Ever. Why would she think that?

Uh oh.

Part Three - Mon Sep 21, 2020 — 20:37:33
A trickle of sweat slowly crept its way downward from a sea of grey hair and across a forehead before being wiped away by a forearm covered with graveyard dirt. Andromeda sighed as she looked around at the cracked tombstones in the cemetery south of the necromancer's keep, wondering if there was *ANY* graveyard dirt that seemed worthy of a gift to the Mad Florist from the Storm Lord. The tortured screams of Megabyte and the weeping of the willow nearby echoed her mood with astounding unintention as she leaned against a gravestone and took a long drink of water from her cruse.

This wasn't even the first graveyard she had visited, either! Stepping out from Hades Pier and taking a long boat ride across the sunless sea, she descended into the Xancrist village on the border of a great rainforest and attempted to find dirt suited to the cultivation of a rare blue rose within their small graveyard. Unluckily for her, it was crawling with undead of no small danger level, and she found herself at the receiving end of several energy drains before "re-dead"ing the undead. "If only they would learn to drain the years instead of wisdom and experience," Andromeda smirked, "at least then I might get some gold out of this whole silly adventure!"

But even after dispatching countless undead in the Xancrist Village and picking her way through the tombstones on the border of Mandeponium and the necromancer's keep, Andromeda had yet to find any suitable dirt that would help Tempest's blue rose grow, and she was beginning to show increasing signs of desperation. "Where else were there any graveyards or cemeteries? You've already checked the statues near the healer...here and the Xancrist village as well. Where could it be?"

Frustration reaching a peak, she stomped south from the healer and headed out of the west gate of New Thalos to begin to slowly head toward Mudville. She didn't own any homes there, but enough of the past residents of this realm had left their front doors open and unlocked after they'd passed over to the Great Beyond for her to squat inside one for the evening and sleep on her dilemma. Memories of her tearing up as Mudville's residents gathered to say their goodbyes to lost friends began to creep at the edges of her tired mind as she...

...wait. Hold on one minute. There WAS another graveyard. And one whose soil was of the highest quality, due to the bodies that fed it. Before moving past the gates into Mudville, Andromeda turned left and, instead, crossed the threshold below a rickety gate into the Mudville cemetery. And -- just as she expected -- the soil there was rich with nutrients and the memories of the others who had visited this land for a time before departing to parts unknown.

The memories of this place struck a chord with Andromeda and, she imagined, they would also ring true for Tempest. The stories and memories buried in the ground would certainly provide the strongest of Questing Helm and would enable the rose plant to grow strong, even in its unlikely surroundings. The Lord of Storms seemed to be plagued by memories which may or may not have been his own, as did Andromeda. Though hers were only manifesting as intrusive thoughts, his seemed a bit more...severe, such as asking for things and not remembering doing so afterward.

Despite this, it's been said that the best gifts are gifts that are given of oneself, even if they're flawed because of it. Only by pouring yourself into a gift can the gift's recipient really understand who the giver is. With this phrase echoing in her mind, Andromeda carefully and respectfully smoothed over the small hole dug in the Mudville Graveyard and silently headed northeast back to New Thalos to deliver the cemetery dirt to Tempest at the Mad Florist's statue.

Standing before the statue to Vonnegut, Andromeda felt a little unsure of herself holding her pile of dirt in a glowing hat. It seemed that Tempest had also tasked the efreet known as Redchigh with collecting the blue rose; though the bloodstains on his clothing hinted that it was not obtained peacefully. Andromeda dreaded that Tempest's wrath -- famous across the land -- would be visited upon her as well, but as Tempest emerged, he seemed too distracted by his own thoughts to even question it.

Redchigh and Andromeda each placed their components before the statue at Tempest's behest, but Tempest stayed away from the flower, confused and terrified. He knew that we should cultivate this gift for the Mad Florist, and on his behest, but he was too terrified of destroying such a delicate plant to get too close to it himself. Moreover, he knew that he WANTED to do this, but was unsure why. A look of confusion and...was that....fear...? crossed his face before leaving the site, perplexed. Redchigh also walked away, possibly to wash the blood of Tempest's followers off his clothing, leaving Andromeda alone with the rose in front of Vonnegut's statue.

Humming a calming song while she worked (huh...where did she know that song from?) she took her dagger and poked a great number of small holes in the questing helm; after all, roses hate getting their feet wet! (how did she know that?) Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out several banana peels and mashed them into a fine paste to mix with the soil to provide the extra potassium the roses needed (wait, what? How? where is this coming from?) to get a good start growing and watered the blue rose lightly from her cruse. The blue rose seemed happy, so she left it back within the statue where Tempest had left it, but with enough sticking out to make sure it got proper sunlight.

Andromeda -- the gardener who had never gardened -- looked sadly on as Tempest floated away, higher and higher in the sky, back toward the peak of the Vinagaard mountains. With a small sigh, she leaned in close to the rose and began to whisper to it.

"Listen closely, wee one...you must grow big and strong for both Tempest and the Mad Florist's sake! Poor Tempest; he wants you to grow big and strong, but his kind soul makes him afraid that getting too close to you will damage and break you! I've seen storms before, though...and for every lightning bolt that cracks a tree in half, hundreds of tiny plants such as yourself are nurtured and fed by the rainwater that comes with it. I just think he needs to find his own balance and accept the nature of himself but...hah. Who am I to advise an immortal on such things?"

Pausing, she sighed to herself and looked up at the statue of Vonnegut. This blue rose needed the best care possible, but...she was not the one to give it. She didn't even seem to know where her gardening knowledge came from, after all. Meeting the statue's eyes, she slowly stood and nodded resolutely. She may not be the person who best knew how to raise this rose...but she knew who was.