video, un: ardenbury

[sighsheavily]

Greetings, fellow outworlders. You may address me as Miss Ardenbury, if we are not yet acquainted, thank you.

[Cecelia is seated facing the camera, within one of those ever-so-similar rooms folks have been initially shacked up in, neither a dirt-covered ballgown disaster nor a puffed-up and pissed-off masquerader. still, she sits in a bit of a regal, this-is-business kind of fashion; this is not an off-the-cuff query or network bungle.]

While the good king is abroad on political business, I would like to bring to attention a happening that may be of value to some -- by which I mean to speak to those of the more skeptical variety, such as myself.

It is wise to test and doubt, especially when details are given only second- and third-hand, yes? That is wisdom that has done me quite well over my years, and it goes to follow here, as well. With that said, after a frank meeting with the aforementioned king, I have been elected to a new role on behalf of this wayward, fluctuating community.

[she pauses briefly, going over what she's rehearsed one last, quick time before speaking once more.]

I have been granted the means to witness the calamity affecting our worlds firsthand. It is neither simple, nor sustainable for much longer than a day at a time, and it is certainly not safe. It is, however...real. It can be seen and felt with your own senses.

With that being said, I am now the acting ambassador for this particular issue -- that is, the matter of providing the tactile proof of the king's claims of our shared plight. May it serve as assurance...and, perhaps, to those with the knowhow with multi-planar disasters, some insight on how to better mitigate this and even resolve it outright.

Others shall be given this task in the future, as they are deemed fit and worthy. For now... [exhale. she lifts her chin a bit higher.]

If you wish to see it, you will speak to me. And we will see about getting there so you may become one of many witnesses...and may this reminder continue to linger, as...distractions crop up and throw you off-balance.

[a beat.]

Hailing me from this device, under this handle, is acceptable. Encountering me within the confines of Camelot, too, will suffice. Know that I cannot accommodate every single person at once, for the strain is...substantial, and the destination a risk in of itself. I must be discerning in who I can ferry, you understand.

With that said... Any questions?

Comments

[patchricide]

[She nods, not needing any more explanation than that to catch on. As far as Earth expressions go, that one is fairly straightforward.]

[However, her brow furrows at the mention of the calamity. Not in doubt or confusion, but simply because it's an unpleasant thing.]

And how would you describe what you saw? Or would you prefer to leave it as a surprise for others when they witness it firsthand?

[sighsheavily]

[she purses her lips briefly, her hands shifting unseen under the table.]

I've spent some time collecting my thoughts on the matter, and I do have some ways to describe it... [a beat.] How familiar are you with paintings, Allura? Not the making of them, but the observing.

[patchricide]

Erm... possibly not as much as others here. We rarely kept them hanging about, certainly not as frequently as I've seen in this world. Holo-art is more practical for decoration in every aspect. [Because you know, art's all about practicality.]

But my father would bring me to see them in museums and archives. He even kept a number of his own, gathered from different worlds.

[sighsheavily]

[...

well, alrighty. that was a yes or no question, but...the more you know(tm).

after a beat and a slow blink:] Consider, then, a painting. Oils, perhaps, still fresh, liable to smudge if touch. The canvas is laid flat. No drips, no tilting.

Imagine next if someone or something were to begin to pour turpentine -- a substance often used to thin out the naturally dense nature of the paints. It pools at a singular source, for it is not being dispersed correctly. And then from there... It blackens.

What I witnessed can be described in such a fashion, though not utterly accurate. The analogy of colors as realms, being thinned and stripped, and drawn to an abyss, however...

[patchricide]

[The context matters, though. You think aliens use oils and turpentine on their art? That they had a renaissance exactly like Earth, and so history and art classes alike teach about how the pictures are made and why some of them look this way or that way? That there was an Altean Bob Ross teaching aliens how the different strokes would look on the canvas?]

[Because there wasn't. The closest thing to Bob Ross ten thousand years ago came from the planet Mokiddia, and Alteans weren't in the right quadrant to pick up any of those broadcasts.]

[Anyway, the point is, the fact that she clued Cecelia in on needing more context is why the princess is roughly able to follow along, and why the conversation isn't being immediately derailed about the materials being used. Instead...]

Do you mean to say that it's all stemming from one point, and spreading and disrupting neighboring realities?

[sighsheavily]

From the vantage point it is observable, yes. But that doesn't rule out invisible factors.

[patchricide]

[She muses over that for a moment.]

When I arrived, it had struck me that... not everyone, but most people here have a lot in common. The majority are human, from Earth, and from roughly the same era... it doesn't strike me as a truly random sampling across space, time, and realities.

I had thought it was all due to the magic originating from Avalon, and its own proximity to these things. But hearing what you've said, it seems more likely based on the spread of the calamity, doesn't it?

[sighsheavily]

[Cecelia's lips stay pursed for a beat after the question. she has a handful of theories, but...]

It's too soon to say, I'd wager. Considering the scope, our sampling size is still rather small.

[patchricide]

[For a moment, Allura had seemed quietly intrigued, having hit on a solid theory for speculation. That enthusiasm deflates when she hears Cecelia's response. She might be pouting a little.]

Well... I suppose it is. Not so small that we can't say there's some sort of correlation, but it's scattered enough that it could be centered on either point of origin.

[She folds her arms, her gaze starting to stray to the side thoughtfully.] But there could be other ways to investigate it, couldn't there?

[sighsheavily]

[in a soft sigh:] As much as I despise vagueness... It would be foolish of me to say anything for certain. But my instincts tell me there are possibilities, given none of them do damage to the layers of magic keeping things currently intact.

There is one instrument at the brink -- a telescopic lens. To better discern the distant impact currently frozen in place.

[patchricide]

[There's a thoughtful hum from Allura over the lens.] And to do so without getting too close? Do you know who set it up?

And no, nothing so disruptive, I wouldn't dare endanger the fabric of reality that way. [Well... maybe she would, but not for the sake of studying it. More like, you know, if it was part of a convoluted rescue plan.] I meant there might be tangential evidence we can look for. For example, if we studied the familiars more, and compared them to the partners they've chosen.

[And from there, who knows? Maybe they could find a method to draw in their close friends and strongest allies to join the fight, rather than sitting, hoping, waiting...]

[sighsheavily]

Likely Merlin and his peers if it were intentional, but given the state of the space, I'd also wager it was already set up for stargazing of a less sinister sort before all of this began. [she shrugs just slightly.]

I don't see harm in the study, at least on surface-level. Finer tracking of the way magics are being conducted and siphoned would be wise...especially if we do find ourselves developing skills in arts far less benign than bending light or lifting boulders...