[It's pure coincidence that Palamedes ventures out to Lumenwood at all. He's been spending more time in Willful Machine lately thanks to Viktor and his shared workshop laboratory, which puts him somewhat in the area, and the concerns of the locals that puts him onto the trail of, well. Some kind of mysterious blood happenings? He's fully into the mode of research and solving all the puzzles at once, and so following the imprint of blood pollution only makes logical sense.
He's never really been... into Lumenwood before, not past the Lumenarium, and so orienting himself among the mist and overbearing scent of flowers chews up most of the actual search for the source of this blood problem.
But not for long; call that necromantic advantage, but he manages to source the pollution to a source, which he arrives at with his glasses off and squinting, because the blood mist has ruined his lenses repeatedly already and he's sick of cleaning them. He doesn't know what he's expecting — beasts, maybe? Something he's not equipped to handle all by his lonesome, despite wandering this way all by his lonesome on purpose.
Not, though... another lab, which he loiters around outside of until someone comes out of it, at which point he clears his throat and speaks up:]
Your business is making the locals squirm. [Which sounds initially like a disapproval, and it almost is, but not in the context one might assume. To wit:] Do you need a hand?
[Sayo wasn't confident enough in her DIY'ing skills to build a shack in the woods and brew toil and trouble in a cauldron there. Fortunately(?) for her and definitely unfortunately for whatever poor sod had previously occupied this building, there was a Beast attack on a clinic recently, and nobody had bothered to move back in or repair it.
Sayo may have deliberately spread a few rumors about a ghost story to make her plot easier.
Though apparently, ghosts don't scare necromancers. She had just been about to walk outside to head back to the warehouse when Palamedes is just right there. Letting out a very undignified,] Eep! [Sayo stumbles back, nearly tripping over herself before catching her balance.]
Could you have at least- um, wait, if you knew to knock that'd take away the whole point of the... atmosphere I'm trying to cultivate. N- Nevermind. [She shakes her head.] Listen, I know that the blood pollution is a problem, but I'm taking every precaution I can, and once I get a few more steps it'll... Huh?
[Oh, this is - surprisingly, the most wholesome confrontation possible? Palamedes had honestly expected someone a) corrupt out of their minds, and b) far more confident in their blood pollutant experiments, so this is — different! Unexpected, in the precise way needed to convince him that, yes, he should help this person with whatever's going on in there... for everyone's sake.]
Okay. Well, because you're... [He sort of... tilts to the side, to look at the warehouse doorway like that will show him the mysterious blood secrets within. He looks back at her, like, is this a question?] You already have a problem, and "a few more steps" won't undo what's already out here. Whatever you're doing, you can't un-ring this bell.
[Still, he's more curious than scolding. What's happening in the warehouse. Why is she cultivating an atmosphere. What is this.]
Look, if I walked away and let you splash around in corruption without trying to help, I'd be an asshole. Let me help?
[This is a compelling case, surely. He's got a point.]
[Sayo stares at Palamedes for a moment, eyebrows crawling so high up her forehead that they disappear into her bangs. In the worst case scenario, she'd expected a Beast would eventually sniff out her work and she'd have to fend it off with nothing but wits and lead. In the best case scenario, she'd expected a civil Hunter she could persuade with some tea and biscuits that she was being as responsible as possible, really, now could you do her a favor and leave her alone?
Someone offering to help fell outside of all of her plans; a much more pleasant surprise than the last time something like this went unaccounted for, granted, but a surprise nonetheless.
...really, though, she could use a hand more adept than Goat-kun or Morgan. So, hesitantly, she steps back inside and gestures for Palamedes to come in.
Despite the ghoulish, offputting exterior of the building, the inside is... well, not cozy, but at least not actively uncomfortable either. A bookshelf that is curiously empty except for a few notebooks, a lab area that's currently being mopped clean by a hulking goat demon, and a closed cellar in the corner surrounded by some kind of blood ward.]
Um, I can undo the ward and get you some food if you want, [Sayo explains as she walks in, barely giving Goat-kun a glance as he enthusiastically waves at her.] I keep all my snacks and other perishable stuff down there so it doesn't get polluted. I considered putting the lab underground, but I think if the blood seeped into the soil like that it'd make the pollution worse...
Right, you had a question. Sorry. [She shakes her head.] The way Sleeper abilities from our homes are integrated into the extant system of blood magic seems... direly unexplored? It's still an open question of whether it's part of our biology, our soul, or both, or neither.
If magic or... an equivalent, I suppose, is able to be taught on one Sleeper's world, it can be taught to another Sleeper. That's the only reason why I haven't died many more times than I have.
But some kinds of magic can't be taught. There's some- principle behind it that makes it incommunicable. Which would make sense if we were humans, or, er, whatever, back on our homeworlds, but we are all Sleepers here, all making use of fundamentally the same magic on Trench. There has to be some way to hack it so that someone else can learn or modify themselves to use those kinds of magic.
This isn't really a topic much research has been done on. So I figured I should start with the most basic building blocks possible; recreating and redefining the way Sleeper blood works, is influenced by, and influences the world around it, entirely from first principles. It's... slow work and, um, as you can see, really messy too, but I still think it's a better idea than to try and twist existing theorems to suit this purpose when the relationship between blood magic and Sleeper abilities hasn't been explored in much depth, at least as far as I can tell. All of my experiments so far have been testing the responses of Sleeper blood to various stimuli, and vice versa.
[Oh, good, she's sensible. Palamedes brightens only a fraction as he moves to follow her in - he can't be ecstatic about blood pollution, but he's glad for the opportunity to help do... something about it, that remains to be seen.
He looks around openly as they enter (and since she isn't waving to the big goat... fellow, he raises a hand in greeting instead, hi Goat-kun), noting the mostly-barren bookshelves and the ward in the back.
Politely, he doesn't question warding snacks instead of the whole building, but only because he knows what a toll a blood ward can be. That she has one for snacks is impressive almost in its utter mundanity - for snacks! Imagine!]
I can't imagine priority would be given to research like this, no, [he begins, after he's taken a moment to mull over her ideas.] In an experiment where the variables are us, and any Sleeper can go back to 'sleep' at any time— it makes sense to have a hole there, in the documentation. Of which there isn't any, broadly, from what I understand.
[Probably a good thing, that Sleepers are not tagged, or something, but - terrible for the sharing of knowledge; he nods, agreeing with about five things she's said and five more he's thought of in the meantime.]
So, to sum up: your theory is that the thing that makes our innate abilities innate should be null, now that we're all fundamentally squids? That begs the question of an ability's unique attributes— can a skill be adapted one-to-one, or is it closer in nature to being left- or right-handed? Handedness can be practiced, but the effort to achieve mastery would be higher...
[He waves a hand, like, never mind; dumb example.]
Sleeper blood abilities manifest differently from person to person, which I'm sure you've already accounted for— Sorry. Let's start from the top.
[He glances at the blood ward again and wonders, then,] What kind of stimuli?
In a way, it's to find out how much of our homes that are still in our souls when we arrive here, if at all... and the degree to which we are all, fundamentally speaking, uppity calamari.
[It's a grim way to put this particular line of questioning, but true nonetheless. While Sayo is sure that many Sleepers would get queasy if they pondered too much on their state as squids, she found the idea oddly comforting--this particular version of "Sayo Yasuda" was more real than she had been back home, in a way. Being a squid meant she swam free of the narrative that confined her that left her as nothing but words on a page (or characters on a forum post), that she "existed."]
The basics. I've already tested the reaction to temperature quite thoroughly, and right now I'm working my way up the periodic table. It's been... difficult to acquire the necessary materials, a microscope especially, and the work is tedious, but I'd rather it be boring than exciting at this stage. It's likely better for everyone involved anyways.
Other than the pollution outside, [he says, but then moves right along to,] The Scholars would have microscopes, wouldn't they? I swear I've seen one in the school in Gaze. If nothing else, a particularly good sandwich could get you some adequate glass in Willful Machine, and from there...
[He gestures; the rest, obviously. DIY microscope kit, if badgering the nerds at the school for one doesn't work.]
Circling back, though: I'd toyed with a theory about our being squids, or more importantly, where these bodies of ours actually come from. Saying 'it's magic' is reductive and simple enough for the layman, I imagine— detachment from a given body is largely upsetting, even if the part in the middle is 'squid time'— but I don't know. That's not enough for me.
[He's taken to pacing, although only a few strides in each direction, so as not to wander all over her space. Hmm! Squid logic!]
I'd believe that we've imposed ourselves onto this world somehow, in the process of waking up. An unrecoverable body can still wash up whole on the shore, so— [he pauses, shrugging,] Well, maybe, you know? It's hard to prove.
I said difficult, not impossible. This operation isn't exactly... sponsored by Gaze or Nevermind.
[Including the microscope that Sayo very obviously has now.
Swiper, stop swiping.
Sayo nods along with Palamedes' explanation, also pacing in perfect time with him. Whenever she concentrates, she either stands still for hours at a time without moving or walks back in forth in an almost hyperactive flurry until she works out whatever is on her mind as an artifact of all the conversations she had with herself during the rote days of cleaning the Ushiromiya mansion.]
Interesting... the idea of all of our basic concepts imprinting on the world and being incarnated as squids would explain some of the contradictions of my existence here that I've had some trouble resolving. The idea of us came first, and the squids are a convenient vessel.
If we look at it from that angle, if we want to resolve the question of how fundamental our souls are to our magic, or to be more precise how we interface with this world's magic via our squid bodies...
[She turns and snaps her fingers, pointing at Palamedes.]
Then we need to find out if we're the chicken or the egg. If the Sleeper squids are a separate species that takes "us," whatever we are, on, or if our... I hesitate to call it a soul at this point, but whatever "we" are imprinting on the Waking World creates the Sleeper body.
[Ah; crime. He gives her a kind of weird, sweeping gesture, a thing that is meant to signify, ah, criminal approval. Go on ahead and continue swiping, not that this gesture is entirely clear. It's all good, he's already stolen a chalkboard from the School himself. Fun and profit!
He listens to her theorizing, nodding along, occasionally humming with interest, watching the path of his own feet for something bland to look at and not get distracted.
Hmm!]
What should we call "us," to save time on technicalities, if not souls? "Image," maybe "Essence"? [the capital letter is pronounced, of course,] Table that for later; how can we determine the nature of a Sleeper squid outside of the point in the cycle during which we appear? Obviously, it's unethical to fish a squid out of the sea and start sticking it with things.
[You know, in case it's somebody decent.]
Personally, I'm leaning towards the "convenient vessel" theory. Surely if the Sleeper squids were a separate species, there would be some documentation of it we could find, yes? Imprinting our "ideas" would account for things like, well— I still need glasses; why, if I'm actually a squid host taking on some kind of "Essence"? Does my other half, a squid, need corrective eyewear?
[goofy! ridiculous!]
The idea of me still needs glasses, though. [...] And it's tidier, if the squid-us pipeline has minimal complications.
[Sayo's incessant pacing slows, then stops as she listens to Palamedes, nodding intently and cupping her chin along with the steady rhythm of his words. It was a relief to finally discover someone who could follow along with Sayo's own lofty, philosophical hypotheses about the nature of existence in Trench, and what's more sling back his own ideas to synthesize something close to a functional theory. Chara could follow along, but then again they were eleven, and Sayo occasionally collaborated with Satoko on her projects, but then again Satoko was an ordinary human and it was difficult to explain some of the more... witchy concepts that underpinned Sayo's ideas. So talking to an actual scientist was a relief, in part because Sayo was hardly accredited herself and having someone with obvious qualifications guide her thoughts was already proving productive.]
If your theory holds true, that implies many interesting things about some of the phenomena in Trench. After all, if the squids are how the Waking World translates concepts that are alien to the way its own natural laws work, then who knows what else may operate by similar principles? Alien ideas imposed onto reality and given form as something the world can "understand." If we could divine how this process works, then...
[Pausing, Sayo shakes her head.]
Such high-minded research can wait for later. We need to understand the fundamentals for now. To go along with your thought process, the Sleeper squids would be interpreters of sorts. They're the ideas that we are, translated into something that fits in the Waking World. Then, the squid itself changes to approximate the truth of the original Image, which is why we walk around on two legs instead of scuttling around on tentacles. In most cases. Maybe some Sleepers are naturally squids, I don't know.
If that's the case, then the reason why some kinds of magic are incommunicable despite us being fundamentally the same creature is that in the original Image, the idea that we have is that sort of magic can't be taught. To change that, we would need to change the way the squid interprets our information, which seems like... a risky proposition on all counts.
The only way that we can directly modify our bodies using the rules of Trench is via our Sleeper blood. Other than that, we'd have to dissect the squids ourselves and experiment on them, which like you said is... very unethical.
This gives me more of a direction to work toward, then.
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smoothie meme.txt
He's never really been... into Lumenwood before, not past the Lumenarium, and so orienting himself among the mist and overbearing scent of flowers chews up most of the actual search for the source of this blood problem.
But not for long; call that necromantic advantage, but he manages to source the pollution to a source, which he arrives at with his glasses off and squinting, because the blood mist has ruined his lenses repeatedly already and he's sick of cleaning them. He doesn't know what he's expecting — beasts, maybe? Something he's not equipped to handle all by his lonesome, despite wandering this way all by his lonesome on purpose.
Not, though... another lab, which he loiters around outside of until someone comes out of it, at which point he clears his throat and speaks up:]
Your business is making the locals squirm. [Which sounds initially like a disapproval, and it almost is, but not in the context one might assume. To wit:] Do you need a hand?
no subject
Sayo may have deliberately spread a few rumors about a ghost story to make her plot easier.
Though apparently, ghosts don't scare necromancers. She had just been about to walk outside to head back to the warehouse when Palamedes is just right there. Letting out a very undignified,] Eep! [Sayo stumbles back, nearly tripping over herself before catching her balance.]
Could you have at least- um, wait, if you knew to knock that'd take away the whole point of the... atmosphere I'm trying to cultivate. N- Nevermind. [She shakes her head.] Listen, I know that the blood pollution is a problem, but I'm taking every precaution I can, and once I get a few more steps it'll... Huh?
[She blinks owlishly.] I, er. Yes? Wait, wait, no. First. Why?
[Some days Sayo could put on an imperious, playful persona. Others, she's too surprised by events like this to be remotely put-together.]
no subject
Okay. Well, because you're... [He sort of... tilts to the side, to look at the warehouse doorway like that will show him the mysterious blood secrets within. He looks back at her, like, is this a question?] You already have a problem, and "a few more steps" won't undo what's already out here. Whatever you're doing, you can't un-ring this bell.
[Still, he's more curious than scolding. What's happening in the warehouse. Why is she cultivating an atmosphere. What is this.]
Look, if I walked away and let you splash around in corruption without trying to help, I'd be an asshole. Let me help?
[This is a compelling case, surely. He's got a point.]
no subject
Someone offering to help fell outside of all of her plans; a much more pleasant surprise than the last time something like this went unaccounted for, granted, but a surprise nonetheless.
...really, though, she could use a hand more adept than Goat-kun or Morgan. So, hesitantly, she steps back inside and gestures for Palamedes to come in.
Despite the ghoulish, offputting exterior of the building, the inside is... well, not cozy, but at least not actively uncomfortable either. A bookshelf that is curiously empty except for a few notebooks, a lab area that's currently being mopped clean by a hulking goat demon, and a closed cellar in the corner surrounded by some kind of blood ward.]
Um, I can undo the ward and get you some food if you want, [Sayo explains as she walks in, barely giving Goat-kun a glance as he enthusiastically waves at her.] I keep all my snacks and other perishable stuff down there so it doesn't get polluted. I considered putting the lab underground, but I think if the blood seeped into the soil like that it'd make the pollution worse...
Right, you had a question. Sorry. [She shakes her head.] The way Sleeper abilities from our homes are integrated into the extant system of blood magic seems... direly unexplored? It's still an open question of whether it's part of our biology, our soul, or both, or neither.
If magic or... an equivalent, I suppose, is able to be taught on one Sleeper's world, it can be taught to another Sleeper. That's the only reason why I haven't died many more times than I have.
But some kinds of magic can't be taught. There's some- principle behind it that makes it incommunicable. Which would make sense if we were humans, or, er, whatever, back on our homeworlds, but we are all Sleepers here, all making use of fundamentally the same magic on Trench. There has to be some way to hack it so that someone else can learn or modify themselves to use those kinds of magic.
This isn't really a topic much research has been done on. So I figured I should start with the most basic building blocks possible; recreating and redefining the way Sleeper blood works, is influenced by, and influences the world around it, entirely from first principles. It's... slow work and, um, as you can see, really messy too, but I still think it's a better idea than to try and twist existing theorems to suit this purpose when the relationship between blood magic and Sleeper abilities hasn't been explored in much depth, at least as far as I can tell. All of my experiments so far have been testing the responses of Sleeper blood to various stimuli, and vice versa.
no subject
He looks around openly as they enter (and since she isn't waving to the big goat... fellow, he raises a hand in greeting instead, hi Goat-kun), noting the mostly-barren bookshelves and the ward in the back.
Politely, he doesn't question warding snacks instead of the whole building, but only because he knows what a toll a blood ward can be. That she has one for snacks is impressive almost in its utter mundanity - for snacks! Imagine!]
I can't imagine priority would be given to research like this, no, [he begins, after he's taken a moment to mull over her ideas.] In an experiment where the variables are us, and any Sleeper can go back to 'sleep' at any time— it makes sense to have a hole there, in the documentation. Of which there isn't any, broadly, from what I understand.
[Probably a good thing, that Sleepers are not tagged, or something, but - terrible for the sharing of knowledge; he nods, agreeing with about five things she's said and five more he's thought of in the meantime.]
So, to sum up: your theory is that the thing that makes our innate abilities innate should be null, now that we're all fundamentally squids? That begs the question of an ability's unique attributes— can a skill be adapted one-to-one, or is it closer in nature to being left- or right-handed? Handedness can be practiced, but the effort to achieve mastery would be higher...
[He waves a hand, like, never mind; dumb example.]
Sleeper blood abilities manifest differently from person to person, which I'm sure you've already accounted for— Sorry. Let's start from the top.
[He glances at the blood ward again and wonders, then,] What kind of stimuli?
no subject
[It's a grim way to put this particular line of questioning, but true nonetheless. While Sayo is sure that many Sleepers would get queasy if they pondered too much on their state as squids, she found the idea oddly comforting--this particular version of "Sayo Yasuda" was more real than she had been back home, in a way. Being a squid meant she swam free of the narrative that confined her that left her as nothing but words on a page (or characters on a forum post), that she "existed."]
The basics. I've already tested the reaction to temperature quite thoroughly, and right now I'm working my way up the periodic table. It's been... difficult to acquire the necessary materials, a microscope especially, and the work is tedious, but I'd rather it be boring than exciting at this stage. It's likely better for everyone involved anyways.
no subject
[He gestures; the rest, obviously. DIY microscope kit, if badgering the nerds at the school for one doesn't work.]
Circling back, though: I'd toyed with a theory about our being squids, or more importantly, where these bodies of ours actually come from. Saying 'it's magic' is reductive and simple enough for the layman, I imagine— detachment from a given body is largely upsetting, even if the part in the middle is 'squid time'— but I don't know. That's not enough for me.
[He's taken to pacing, although only a few strides in each direction, so as not to wander all over her space. Hmm! Squid logic!]
I'd believe that we've imposed ourselves onto this world somehow, in the process of waking up. An unrecoverable body can still wash up whole on the shore, so— [he pauses, shrugging,] Well, maybe, you know? It's hard to prove.
no subject
[Including the microscope that Sayo very obviously has now.
Swiper, stop swiping.
Sayo nods along with Palamedes' explanation, also pacing in perfect time with him. Whenever she concentrates, she either stands still for hours at a time without moving or walks back in forth in an almost hyperactive flurry until she works out whatever is on her mind as an artifact of all the conversations she had with herself during the rote days of cleaning the Ushiromiya mansion.]
Interesting... the idea of all of our basic concepts imprinting on the world and being incarnated as squids would explain some of the contradictions of my existence here that I've had some trouble resolving. The idea of us came first, and the squids are a convenient vessel.
If we look at it from that angle, if we want to resolve the question of how fundamental our souls are to our magic, or to be more precise how we interface with this world's magic via our squid bodies...
[She turns and snaps her fingers, pointing at Palamedes.]
Then we need to find out if we're the chicken or the egg. If the Sleeper squids are a separate species that takes "us," whatever we are, on, or if our... I hesitate to call it a soul at this point, but whatever "we" are imprinting on the Waking World creates the Sleeper body.
no subject
He listens to her theorizing, nodding along, occasionally humming with interest, watching the path of his own feet for something bland to look at and not get distracted.
Hmm!]
What should we call "us," to save time on technicalities, if not souls? "Image," maybe "Essence"? [the capital letter is pronounced, of course,] Table that for later; how can we determine the nature of a Sleeper squid outside of the point in the cycle during which we appear? Obviously, it's unethical to fish a squid out of the sea and start sticking it with things.
[You know, in case it's somebody decent.]
Personally, I'm leaning towards the "convenient vessel" theory. Surely if the Sleeper squids were a separate species, there would be some documentation of it we could find, yes? Imprinting our "ideas" would account for things like, well— I still need glasses; why, if I'm actually a squid host taking on some kind of "Essence"? Does my other half, a squid, need corrective eyewear?
[goofy! ridiculous!]
The idea of me still needs glasses, though. [...] And it's tidier, if the squid-us pipeline has minimal complications.
no subject
If your theory holds true, that implies many interesting things about some of the phenomena in Trench. After all, if the squids are how the Waking World translates concepts that are alien to the way its own natural laws work, then who knows what else may operate by similar principles? Alien ideas imposed onto reality and given form as something the world can "understand." If we could divine how this process works, then...
[Pausing, Sayo shakes her head.]
Such high-minded research can wait for later. We need to understand the fundamentals for now. To go along with your thought process, the Sleeper squids would be interpreters of sorts. They're the ideas that we are, translated into something that fits in the Waking World. Then, the squid itself changes to approximate the truth of the original Image, which is why we walk around on two legs instead of scuttling around on tentacles. In most cases. Maybe some Sleepers are naturally squids, I don't know.
If that's the case, then the reason why some kinds of magic are incommunicable despite us being fundamentally the same creature is that in the original Image, the idea that we have is that sort of magic can't be taught. To change that, we would need to change the way the squid interprets our information, which seems like... a risky proposition on all counts.
The only way that we can directly modify our bodies using the rules of Trench is via our Sleeper blood. Other than that, we'd have to dissect the squids ourselves and experiment on them, which like you said is... very unethical.
This gives me more of a direction to work toward, then.