Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » » GeiaCon - Conference for Otherworldly Education

Three weeks had passed, and at last, the Dragon had grown used to the concept of 'rain'. This refreshing sky water, that seemed to drop every time the clouds grew thick and stone-colored, reflecting off her scales in a way that could make her smile, and as such she'd forgotten about how anxious she'd been about the upcoming GeiaCon. But, today was the day. Wrapped in bags and satchels and with a bounce in her step that she hadn't had since her hatchling days, she'd made her way over to the large, grassy clearing where the conference was to be held. At almost three kilometers across, the enormous field was able to house thousands of Otherworlders, as they were called by the people here, and it appeared that the Dragon belonged to the first dozen or so to arrive. Welp, would certainly make it easier to remember some names.. Obviously, she wasn't going to have to remember any names, 'cause she sped past before anyone could even introduce themselves to her. Wings tucked close to her body, the Dragon moved through the loose crowd of many-headed purple beasts, fleshy bipeds and other creatures, to finally find herself at the appointed spot: a red piece of tile, covered in a black pawprint, marked her home base. She puffed out a sigh of relief, and dropped her bags onto the moist, trampled grass. There had been a time where she'd not understood grass either, but Pawlown, the furry six-legged creature who'd found her after she'd dropped through the Dimensional Rift, had been so kind to explain it to her in a way she understood. Basically, grass was the green, living version of the dry stalks that tended to get stuck on her arm-wraps back in Nowhere. As she adjusted to the soft buzz of the Otherworlders conversing around her, she began to unpack her bags. First, the Dragon put down a two by two meter flag made out of a ragged, olive-green fabric with an unknown symbol on it. Then she laid out her wares, which consisted of old stone plaques with runes and icons on them, contorted bones, charcoal drawings of monstrously mutated creatures, and, rather strangely, a scratched-up green apple. There were some other trinkets as well, with most of them seeming to pertain to survivalism. As soon as all was put in place, she planted her butt on the flag and wrapped her tail around the paws, patiently and almost awkwardly waiting for someone to strike up a conversation. Goodness knew that she had no idea how this whole 'talking, education and socialization' thing worked..

---

". . . Like your bones."

A voice rang in the Dragon's mind, echoing. It had a similar pleasantness to it that could be afforded by the sound of throwing a pile of steel forks on a tile floor. But at the same time, it was. . . calm. Quiet, almost. And the tone was completely non-aggressive.

For an exhibit that was literally just erected moments ago, it somehow already looked decrepit and abandoned. However, it wasn't abandoned at all; an inky black figure was standing - hovering? - behind the booth, rich blue eyes scanning the Dragon's wares. Despite the faint yet foul odor of something acidic coming off of them, their only covering - a lab coat with nails driven in - was pristine and white.

The same couldn't be said for their display. Mangled machines, rusted and tarnished, made up their booth. Their appearance might give away their age, the possibility of their existence as relics of the past from this ethereal spirit's universe. It was initially unknown what their purposes were for, but it might be easily recognizable to some that their chains, straps, spikes, and holes gave away what they were; devices to inflict punishment and agony. The only things that stuck out like a sore thumb were, lo and behold, what appeared to be taxidermy beast parts. Perhaps hilariously ironic, the broken sign above their stall had several languages on it, all of which read, 'THE DREAM REALM.'

A nail hung out of the spirit's mouth, but it was hard to dictate whether this was also dirty or not. They didn't seem to mind either way. Just then, their gaze flitted over the drawings of grotesque monsters. They held out an arm, completely concealed by an overly long sleeve.

"Draw those yourself. . . ?"

Then, there was a voice. The Dragon froze in place. Had the infection washed over her? Had she angered the spirits of the Old World by escaping the Blight? Though, as she drowned her instinctual jolts of fear in the deep waters of rational thrist for survival, she realized that the content of the sentences invading her mind were actually rather pleasant. Someone was showing interest in her booth already! Clenching her wings closer to her body, the Dragon gathered the courage to look up and.. there they were. An eerie figure shaped like a shred of mist on an early, foggy morning. They hovered close by, two piercing blue eyes glowing like stars as they met the Dragon's, who squinted from behind her iron mask. Their body had been wrapped in a garment of some sort, clear and white like a hatchling's egg-horn, and they towered over the Dragon like a ruin's pillar, casting a faint shadow onto her stall. Not quite threatening, but certainly unsettling. "O-oh.. uhh, that's.. cool. That's great!" the Dragon smiled, feigning enthusiasm through her nerves. "I mean.. thank you." Something along those lines was what people here perceived as polite, right? She wasn't sure why she had to thank someone if they weren't giving her anything, but abiding by the social laws of.. well, beings from elsewhere seemed like the safest route to go. Wouldn't want to insult whoever - or whatever - this entity was. "I, uhh.. I made sure they were clean. For, you know, for the scenario where someone would wanna buy them. I don't wanna, like, eh, make anyone sick, and stuff. 'Cause usually when bones look like this, the dragon they belong to is, yeah, sick." Now that she thought about it some, the Dragon realized that she had no idea how she was going to explain her homeworld of Nowhere to those that had never been. Pawlown had told her that sickness existed in Geia too, and most other realms as well, but that the Blight, the curse of the parasites, was unique to her world- as far as they knew, anyway. "But, I guess I can also trade stuff, if others have stuff for me. Nothing in the rules against that!" She was yapping at this point. Then again, it didn't seem like this Misty One was easily scared off by a sinister lack of social skills. In the meantime, though, her shy eyes had wandered off to the booth that the Misty One had originated from. Theirs was about as glamorous as the Dragon's, but instead of bones, sketches and the mysterious apple, there were rusty machines and body parts. The Dragon gulped but didn't move a muscle. What would those contraptions be for? Could it perhaps be a curing device of some sort? Maybe if the Blight or an Otherworldly equivalent could be ripped from the body, there was a change that the acursed one could be saved? No, no.. that was nonsense. Anyway.. "I.. umm.. yeah, I, I think I did." Did it count as drawing if the thing that one drew wasn't made up by them? Or was that just, documenting, maybe? "Those are.. um, well, were, other dragons, mostly." Contrasting the heavy muscles and scarred hide, the Dragon stretched out the paw with the fragile grace of a newborn deer. Her claw pointed towards a particularly gnarly drawing of a contorted, five-legged mess with a gaping, pitch-black maw at the front. To anyone vaguely familiar with the skeletal make-up of vertebrae, the remnants of a skull could be recognized, with two abyssmall holes where the eyes should be. "The eyes usually have little red dots in them, but I couldn't get that on paper. I tried to put in on with my fire one time, and then I burnt the drawing to a crisp, heh. It's a.. uh, well, good thing that I have a strong memory.." For someone who'd lived a nightmare her whole life, the Dragon's voice was soft and kind. Being able to talk about what she'd seen back in Nowhere brought her heart into her throat, yet lifted a weight off her shoulders at the same time. Whatever she'd seen, she wouldn't see it here. Here was safe. Forever. "And, and.. I, uh, I made up names for the other ones. Those aren't, well, past-tense dragons, and stuff. B-but, yeah- let me hear about you! What are those, uh, those thingies for?" She nodded back towards the Misty One's stall, at the rusty contraptions. She wouldn't dare to meet the Misty One's gaze as she awaited an answer. She managed to find an excuse to do so, too: one of the languages on the sign above the stall was one she recognized from Pawlown's teachings, and letter by letter, she managed to decipher it. The Dream Realm. Did that mean that this entity wasn't real, or something? Quickly, her eyes flicked towards the slender, floating figure, then back to their stall. Their wares looked real, alright. Maybe their realm was a realm where dreams came true? Geez, what she wouldn't give to take a trip there..

GeiaCon, an event that featured many beings from a vast array of dimensions or worlds, had piqued the interest of a certain fox spirit.

Azumi dragged the arm of her son,
Ren, and made sure her iron grip was enough to prevent him from escaping while they walked towards a portal on their home planet that lead to GeiaCon. She knew of his reluctance to visit foreign worlds, mostly because he had a fear of interdimensional portals or spaceports going out of commission for whatever reason, preventing them from going back home to Earth.

What worsened Ren's refusal to even go in the first place was Azumi's quite happy-go-lucky and slightly reckless attitude. Before they even arrived to the place, the fox spirit continuously enter the wrong portals by accident despite her son's request to slow down and lighten up her excitement before proceeding to read each and every sign before bothering to enter them.

What was never explained was the large piece of luggage that Azumi brought and levitated using magic. She briefly explained to Ren it was for the convention without elaborating further. Ren did request to assist his mother, however Azumi only replied with "This type of luggage is not meant to be carried by the average mortal, sweetie. Fear not, for it is a trivial matter for a kitsune such as myself!"

Even after all those inconveniences, they finally settled down somewhere after entering GeiaCon and set up a booth near Dragon and Yulu. Their booth consisted mostly of musical instruments and equipment and model toys that Ren would only describe as "Gunpla". There were also five charcoal-based drawings on paper made by Ren that had a wooden frame surrounding it. Each one of the drawings seemed to relate to some sort of emotion Ren was attempting to Convey. Another thing worth noting is the vast collection of talismans and spellbooks that Azumi had garnered throughout her entire existence on the material plane. All of which were either displayed in class cabinets Azumi had conjured out of thin air or on one of the few foldable tables they, well, Azumi had, carried.

It seemed Ren was still nervous, however.

"Relax, won't you?" Azumi giggled

"Relax? I was busy writing a song!" Ren groaned

Azumi simply hugged her Son as an apology and allowed him to pet her tails while she spoke.

"Come one, come all to the Emporium of the Suburbanites! While all our stocks have been used and thus not in mint condition, they haven been meticulously pre-loved, meaning that they have either been customized or enhanced in some way! If you want, my son and I can offer to teach you lessons with the vast array of instruments stationed at this very booth!"

"What?!" Ren exclaimed before whispering to his mother "Mom, you know I suck at teaching!"

"Oh nonsense, you taught a few of my young students some of these instruments and, suffice it to say, they were enthusiastic!"

The specter continued to stare at the bones for a few seconds too long before they seemed to follow the Dragon's explanation. Were they having difficulty understanding? They didn't reply throughout the Dragon's ramblings. During that time, their folded sleeve retreated to what could be assumed to their chest as they watched the little scaly creature go on and on.

". . . I see."

They're expression seemed a bit more dejected than usual. Whatever 'usual' was. Languidly, they turned, somehow eying the devices like they'd never seen them before. Like they confused them.

"Thing. . . ies. . . ?"

A hand - wrist? - hovered over a short, small object with screws, where the shadows around the device slithered underneath it until they were no more. The piece then rose upwards before the spirit seemed to direct it over to the Dragon, so that she might hold it and inspect it for herself.

"Birthplace of all ghosts. . ." This seemed to be their form of an explanation. "Conflict. . . strife. . . agony. For example. . . is a thumbscrew. For cruelty. . . by the living."

Oh.

"Acquired from a gnome village. . . formerly enslaved. . . killed many of us there with strife. Offspring - the wails - form. . . their incorporeal forms. . . 'bodies' to some, pockets of memories. In death, hundred cycles later. . . they become ghosts. Like me. Might call it. . . our 'birth,' were we living."

Their brows raised, expression. . . moderately hopeful?

"Did I. . . explain well?" They seemed to sink in the air a bit. ". . . Forgive me. Or do not. Does not matter to me. . . but the bones. . . you are selling?"

Casually, their gaze sauntered over to the noisy duo nearby, but they didn't say anything. They just. . . haunted right where they were.

Yaaz revelled in inter dimensional travel and like the fox spirit, wanted to get his children accustomed to such by taking them with him on outings. Yavis and his daughters happily ran ahead a short distance, looking back to wait till Yaaz caught up to run off again. The fourth was still being carried despite being big enough to run around with the rest of them, stuck to his mother like glue.

Of course they’d have a look at those who had set up first before starting their own, the dragon’s runes were a curious sight, something to look at in greater detail later but they were busy talking to another stall owner.

The shadow creature….they were going to give a wide birth if only because he had the children with him. What he planned to sell wasn’t much better but he didn’t want anyone licking the rusty machines and getting tetanus, unlikely but who’s to know.

The three children ran over to the kitsune table with all the instruments, barking and grumbling away in an excited fashion. Yaaz walked over and sighed “None of you lot have thumbs, we can try something later once we’ve set up.” he told them which caused the girls to grumble at him.

Setting Lawal down despite him wanting to remain being held, Yaaz got to work summoning a table. The bag of holding across his shoulder carried all manner of potion bottles, they were one of two colors, clear and a rusty brown/red, in all different shapes and sizes for different purposes. A banner reading ‘Glatisant Poisons’ He wasn’t expecting to make much if anything, it was more an excuse to get out and expose the children to new things.
Lawal clung to Yaaz’s leg the whole time he was setting up and cried nonstop to be picked up. The girls ran around playing tag while Yavis lay behind the table for a little nap, they didn’t seem too distressed by the change in scenery which was good.

Karlach wanders around the convention grounds. She's curious to see if there's any booth that has something that can help her with the infernal engine in her chest.

Looking around GeiaCon from underneath one of the stalls, Esmeryle's eyes widen in awe, her tail happily wagging as she found herself overcome with youthful curiosity and excitement. She hadn't been to one of these conferences in years, the last time being a field trip her Freshman class took.

These days, however, Esmeryle isn't much of a student. Or nearly as tall. And she knew that if she stuck her head out for too long, somebody might confuse her for an unaccompanied minor. Which, fair enough, she is, but only if they can catch her.

There was a foreign distance about the Misty One that felt alienating and familiar at the same time: the Dragon had always been a stranger to her own world, and likewise, the Misty One appeared to be stranger to mortal existence itself. Neither of them spoke in a manner like the entities around them, and both had an interest in what the other had to say, even if they couldn’t fully understand it, at times. That said: now it was the Dragon’s turn to be confused. Echoeing through the untouched space between her horns were words that she had never heard before. Enslavement was a known term to her; many remnant societies in Nowhere practiced it to ensure that what little survivors they’d gathered stayed in line- though the word ‘gnome’ rang no bells at all. Still, the Dragon awaited her turn and sat quietly as the Misty One spoke. They spoke of ghosts, cruelty, strife and birth, the creation of others like them, other Misty Ones, through cycles of death. That did ring a bell, albeit one rather bittersweet. Many of the Infected died in cycles, over and over again, and were reborn in new gruelling ways whenever one of their dreadful lives came to an end. The Dragon had seen it for herself: the flesh never really died, for it was rebirthed through rot and agony. The thumbscrew, which rested peacefully in her large, square paw, now sat encased by her tensely clenched fingers. ”I.. yeah, I think it.. it clicked. You explained it really well,” the Dragon sighed, her voice heavy with unexplained sorrow. ”What your world has, these.. umm, these cycles, we used to have those. I think we did. But now, well, not everyone can die anymore. Not.. entirely, anyway.” Would that mean that true death was the only cure for the Blight? Somewhere, deep down in the most selfish and naive caverns of her being, the Dragon had hoped it wouldn’t be. ”Oh, and um- yeah! You can, you may! Like I, uh, like I said, I made sure that they were clean. Nothin’ on it, so you just get to look at.. well.. what remains if someone, somehow, does end up.. dying.” Every so often, an Infected would lose a part of its body, and if the Blight wasn’t strong enough to sustain itself, it would often flee to the biggest mass of flesh nearby, leaving the malformed bones behind. ”You can give me whatever you’d, um, would like to give me. I, uhh, yeah, there’s not really a use for money where I’m from.” Pawlown had spoken of a summoning ritual when she’d arrived, which to her was an implication that her stay in Geia was not to be permanent. The thought haunted her, especially after all that she’d done in this new world, but if fate wanted her back in Nowhere, it wasn’t her place to argue. She had to savor these moments with other living - or beyond-living - creatures for as long as she could. ”Or, I.. I could have, this? If it’s not too much..” She opened her paw again, staring lifelessly at the thumbscrew. ”It gives me hope, I guess.” No need to elaborate. Didn’t want to scare away her first client! No one was keeping track, as far as she knew, but still.. ”Is.. is there one that you like? In a way that.. you like it more than the others, that you probably also like.” She was stumbling over her words, but quickly dismissed her rising embarassment by putting the thumbscrew down and getting to her paws, moving over to the bones section of her stall. There were about five different bones to choose from: two femur-like bones that had contorted into a whirlwind-like shape, with one of them having grown a third epiphysis, one dragonic jawbone with a second, much longer mandible growing out of it, one vertebrae with thousands of needle-like bones growing out of it, and lastly, an unidentified bone with so many holes in it that it made the Dragon’s scales crawl every time she looked at it. She considered herself lucky that she’d found these treasures long after the associated Infected had left the vicinity. Goodness only knew what those mutations would’ve looked like in the flesh.. In the meantime, her restless eyes flicked between her wares, the Misty One, and all the newcomers that’d arrived around them. There was a strange furry creature with many tails with her moping, fleshy companion, though most striking of all was the clutch of multi-colored beasts that had arrived a few stalls over. One of them appeared to have a whole bunch of hatchlings that wandered around the place, while one needed to be held. The Dragon was curious about these creatures and the potions they had to sell.. but talking to one entity alone already got her heart to race. Maybe.. later. Maybe then she could ask the Misty One to join her, so not all eyes would be on her. Oh geez, she sucked at these kinds of things.. At least she was about to make her first sale, though!

Taking a chance to learn what she can, the hatchling rubs her claws together with a cheeky grin. She then crawls underneath each of the stall tables, moving from empty stall to empty stall, until she reaches the Misty One's stall. Her eyes lit up with a childlike sense of wonder, tail poking out from a cloak she was using to disguise herself, all the while listening to the Dragon's conversation with this mysterious Misty One.

She hadn't seen anything like these bones in the academy, nor any other museum. Which made this feel all the more special.

"Gives you hope, does it. . . ?" There was a tinge of wonder in Yulu's eyes. It could almost be described as an odd sense of fondness. "For cruelty? Or death?"

Pondering this, the ghost seemed more fretful, raising the nub of their sleeve to what seemed to be their concealed chin.

"Life without death. . . how dreadful. Death. . . should give hope. State as before you were born, it is. . . lifeless comfort. Pain without pain." Their gaze landed on the thumbscrew again before raising to the Dragon's eyes. "Smelt it. Use it. Does not matter to me. If it grants agony. . . or acceptance. Pleases me either way."

They offered a twisted grin in response, though in some odd sense, it seemed friendly. They turned to the bones next, motions slowing to a halt as they lingered upon what they saw.

"Holey one. . . uncomfortable to see, is it?" They faced the Dragon intently, as though they could tell, sense that this sparked negative emotions. "You keep that. Acceptance is key to agony. Resolving. . . accepting. . . living, dying."

As gently as such a heinous spirit could muster, they gestured to the vertebrae with many, many spines.

"I take this," they declared. "Much pain, yes. . . good research. My colleague. . . may study the growths. Will be my gratitude to them. Gave me these."

The taxidermy beast parts were displayed with laminated tags that were. . . surprisingly clean. A dark green and brown finned tail tip featured the name 'Absinalis'; a moss-covered horn was listed as 'Mosshorn Goruga'; lastly, there was the leg of some bird-like creature with an ankle-tag of 'Horu-Ru-Ku.'

As though embarrassed, Yulu sank in the air again. "Forgot to bring stuff. . . non-ghost stuff. Claisen provided. Said this was stupid. . . did not come. Oh well."

They tapped the folds of their sleeves together, expression, somehow, darkening. Their small brows hardened.

"Tell me of the sickness. . . wish to know. How did your people. . . react? Behave? Suffer. . . ?"

Yaaz had taken a brief glance at what was available for sale at the dragons stall but now he was set up he could have a proper look. Those bones were highly interesting to him, he had to go have a closer look. Turn around to pat his largest child on the shoulder “Yavis, be a dear and watch the table for me please.” The pup yawned wide, stretched then sat up and rested his face on the table watching anyone passing by. He couldn’t speak but if need me he’d bark and mum would come back.

Walking over with Lawal in his arm clinging to his shirt and girls still just running around and wrestling each other he’d allow the dragon to continue talking to the spectre(?) and browse in silence. The whirlwind bone being the most interesting one to look at.

The ghost had happened to notice Yaazecsus approaching the Dragon stall, gaze landing on him in wonder. He looked like a Variant type of Dreamer, but the fact he was an amalgamation of multiple beast parts aroused both awe and suspicion. Hopefully, they weren't one of those shapeshifter types. . .

"Dream Realm's stall. . . bids you welcome," they greeted the Questing Beast, the sound of their voice both inside their head and audible. It sounded. . . terrible, but quiet. "See you run the poisons stall. Was wondering. Poisons important to your world's culture. . . ? Would be very fascinating. Tell me about it."

Their arms outstretched over their little display of colorful, disembodied monster parts. It featured a large, finned tail with stripes that had been preserved; a hollow, mossy horn with ridges; and a preserved leg that was far smaller than the other displays. There was a possibility they pointedly neglected to address the myriad torture devices behind them. Or perhaps that was 'dessert' for later.

"If you have questions. . . let Yulu know. My. . . chosen name."

One of the larger, empty set-up pads toward the middle of the venue comes to life as a scrolling border of holographic text appears at its perimeter and a deep, computerized voice says the written warning out loud.

This repeats for about thirty seconds before a figure plummets from the sky and lands in the middle of the pad with a fizz of kinetic shields absorbing the acceleration and wings raised straight up off her back. She's closely followed by a pair of large shiny silver pods which land with similarly dramatic impacts.

The bird-like creature stands as the pods begin to unfold themselves into a small open-fronted building with a counter/desk, four medical examination style chairs with instrument tables, cabinets, wall-mounted machines, and other seating. Once it has fully assembled, a holographic horizontal ring of the words "First Aid and Medical Attention" appears above it. Other projections spring to life in front of the various machines and above the desk as everything turns on.

The mostly vermillion-feathered bird lady does a few quick checks on each of the care areas before taking a seat behind the desk on a floating chair.

"N-no, no.. only cruelty, no death.." That very subject divided Nowhere, as far as she knew. The Dragon had always been taught that death was to be avoided if they ever wanted their species to prosper again, yet at the same time.. it was also a privilege, especially out in the deadlands. "I.. umm, yeah, it's just something that everyone deserves at the right time, but no one gets what they want anymore. Some get no death at all, and others way before their time. They're the lucky ones, though." She didn't like to talk of death. Way it was looking now, she was gonna be one of the lucky ones, but that didn't mean that she could think of it without feeling for those she'd known. Her total lack of communicational skills showed that it hadn't been many, but the souls she did know, well.. "But.. umm, y-yeah, thanks-io. I'll hang onto this. A-and I hope you friend finds out what happened to the bone, 'cause, eh, well." She gulped, a lump of discomfort smothering against her fire gland as it went down her throat. "..I can only guess. They should, uh, yeah, learn the why's. And the how's to, uh, make it normal again." A cure for the Blight was an impossible thought, but the Dragon wanted to take pride in being a big dreamer. Fortunately, the Misty One had great wares to distract herself with. Having used all her literary brainpower on the sign above the spirit's stall, the Dragon simply walked over to the body parts and gave them a good sniff, her thickly fanged mouth slightly agape as she took in the strange aroma's of the tail tip, horn and leg respectively. The horn especially made her heart skip a beat- it could've belonged to any dragon, but clearly it was of another world. The thought of another species possessing horns wasn't what spooked her, though, it was the lingering reminder that death came for all, no matter what realm they were from. And that green.. stuff, right on top of it. Was that a docile Infection of the Misty One's own realm? Somewhere deep down, the Dragon was too afraid to ask. She didn't have too, though, as the Misty One moved on to the subject of what they, as opposed to their colleague 'Claisen' - crap, they were namey ones, so she was gonna have to ask the Misty One for their real name later -, had and hadn't brought. Apparently they'd only brought 'ghost stuff', whatever that meant.. "W-whaddaya.. whaddaya mean?" the Dragon muttered, raising an invisible brow beneath her mask. There was an awkward pause after she spoke- that was, until she realized that just because the Misty One could speak in her mind, it didn't mean that they were confirmed to be able to read it. "I.. I mean by, eh, non-ghost stuff. What stuff do you have that's not.. ghosty? Ghost-like, of-ghost. Ghostarious." To her, the thumbscrew in her paw felt awfully real. Clearly there was more to these kinds of ghosts than the ones she knew from her homeworld. They could be touched, talked to as if they were really there. Heck, they were really there! They were like everyone else, just floaty and weirder. Kinda like her. Except that she couldn't float. "And.. well.. I wasn't there when it came, but I know the stories," the Dragon said, still standing over the mysteriously green-plastered horn, "and honestly, I.. uhh.. I dunno if I know anything, at this point. The Rebuilders were not honest about everything to me, so I dunno how true this is, but umm.." She was avoiding the answer, and surprisingly, that didn't bring her as much comfort as she thought it would. "But, yeah.. according to them, us dragons used to rule the world. Then the Blight came and.. yeah, it just kinda.. killed, everything. Now our world is dry and dead and.. well, if hunger or thrist or just madness doesn't get to you, the Blight will and it'll.. it'll eat you and make your body all kinds of messed up, and then you live on and on forever as an Infected. Forever." Her entire body had grown tense, her throat hot and dry. She wanted to cry, had somewhere expected herself to, but her face was so stiff and emotionless that it hurted the muscles within. The Blight didn't just eat, it devoured whole, it feasted on dragons until they weren't recognizable anymore. The bones were living proof. Those consumed by the rot and the malformation were doomed to be living corpses for the rest of their existence, their bones and flesh morphed with others until there was no chance at legacy left. Millions had gone on without ever getting a grave, especially in the current age, for the hivemind itself was a mass tomb to all unlucky enough to have fallen into the maelstrom of decay. "I.. I wish I could.. explain it. Better, I mean. This is just all I've heard. I.. I thought I was on the right track but, well.. I'm just lucky I'm here now. I don't wanna go back there ever again.." She had no connection to Geia outside of her pleasant introduction to the world, but she could see herself settling here if she gave herself enough time. Anything to never see Nowhere again. Fortunately, the many-colored family of beasts had approached them, tearing the Dragon from her agonizing rememberance. Nervous, but pleasantly so, the Dragon stood behind the Misty One, who opened conversation with the many-colored beast without any hint of shyness. Geez, what she wouldn't give to talk so easily. In the meantime, the Misty One also dropped their actual name: Yulu. A fleeting smile crossed the Dragon's lips. At least that one was easy to remember. She looked at her big, grizzled paws while Yulu spoke, and only looked up when she was close enough to look at the hatchling in the large Many-Color's arms. Somewhat instinctively, she removed her mask, revealing a large and broad snout tainted by a singular scar, but otherwise sweet and youthful. In dragonic manner, she smiled and squinted her eyes at the hatchling, hoping that it would recognize that she meant it well. When dealing with family clutches, she wanted to appear as non-threatening as possible, as was custom in a place like Nowhere. Family clutches tended to be more furious about defending themselves than anyone else. She knew from experience.. That was when another surprise entered the peaceful clearing: a large, feathery biped came crashing down from the heavens, opening up a stall that said something about.. first aid and medical attention. The Dragon had never heard of either before, but they did sound like services of some sort. She'd heard that giving workshops in local cultural actions was allowed, so maybe it was something like that? At least the lights were pretty.. "H-hi.. there, by the, uhh, by the way," the Dragon smiled, quickly looking back at Many-Color and their hatchlings, "we, umm.. Yulu.. and, uh, and me, we were just talking. About stuff. Yeah. Uhh, if you or your hatchlings wanna get yourself something, though, you're free to! I can still sell stuff when I'm talking." She chuckled rather awkwardly. "Even though I wasn't.. really, uh, talking anymore." Nodding at Yulu as she walked around them, she sat herself back down on her booth, putting a paw on her green apple to make sure that Many-Color's hatchlings wouldn't trip over it as they played. They did have something dragon'y about them, but not nearly enough to make her feel homesick. Better that way.

Yulu listened intently to the Dragon, appearing to devote every ounce of the attention they could spare to what she had to say. Curiously, they didn't answer on the topic of finding out the source of the bone's splintering growths. Instead, they just smiled. Some could see it as wicked, but it was almost. . . good-natured, especially judging from their tone.

"May be ready to die yourself someday. . . freedom from pain. 'Til then, hold on. May spare others from it. Or cause it. Does not matter to me."

Then, they gestured vaguely to the horn she had sniffed. It smelled earthy and almost sweet, despite being dry. Luckily, it wasn't too damaged.

"From a Mosshorn Goruga," they explained. "Used to live. Died. Collected its parts from the Exorcists' Guild."

They raised a nub to their concealed chin and emitted a noise not unlike what one could assume a shark coughing underwater would sound like. If it made a noise, that was. Were they. . . clearing their throat?

Oh boy, info-dumping time!

"Let me see. . . Dream Realm has four states of being. The top down is. . . spirit, pseudo-spirit, metaphysical, construct. Is how 'whole' they are, corporeal. . . can be dead, alive, or neither. A dead spirit, I am. Also of one of the five elements. . . Dark."

They looked back to the moss-covered horn.

"Goruga are metaphysical. . . Earth-affiliated. Hence the growths. . . pretty interesting, right?"

The ghost was almost immediately interrupted by the phoenix that came blasting down with her pods, though it didn't really surprise them. Their expression was sorrowful by default and they very rarely - if ever - blinked.

"Huh. . . a healer," they remarked softly as the Dragon spoke to Yaazecsus. "Useful. . ."

While the Dragon busied herself with the beast and his hatchlings, shadows retracted underneath the many-spiked vertebrae before it levitated into the air. Slowly, it glided over to Yulu, where they observed the piece in mid-air.

With the arrival of the avian the two girls running around were spooked by the computerised voice and started barking loudly. Yaaz looked behind him and whistled to call them over “Come here you’ll be fine.” he gestured and the girls ran over. Yavis remained at the table but promptly hid underneath it for safety. The small one in his arms started to cry loudly which was muffled as he scrunched his face into his mother’s armpit.

Some sort of highly advanced medical attention, that may be interesting to look into later once everyone was less terrified.

He smiled to the dragon and the ghost and bowed his head “They haven’t had much interdiamensional experience yet, still very jumpy.” he explained. The girls stuffed themselves between Yaaz’s ankles were looking up at the dragon, highly curious and tilting her heads at her. Kaziah, the more reptilian of the four crept over first, followed by her sister Nava. They were skittish and would jerk backwards after a second of wary sniffing then approach a bit closer, 2 steps forward, 3 steps back.

“That Spiral bone, what creature is it from?” he inquired. Looking to the ghost Yaaz smiled “Poisons are valuable to many, adventurers, nomads, mercenaries etc. It’s not something I use in my everyday life but it is something I can provide relativetly easily.” A wide smile from ear to ear, breaking up an otherwise humanoid face. The mouth split the cheeks through the centre for a brief flash of needle thin teeth. “One of those ‘bored at home, need a side hustle’ types of jobs really.”

Yulu levitated their bone to where they could keep it safe. They nodded twice to Yaaz's words as he spoke.

"I see, I see. . ." Their voice was unpleasant to all around them, despite their gentle tone. Like listening to a quiet chainsaw in a trash compactor. "Your children know? That you help commit murder. . . ?"

It seemed as if the attention of the newly arrived guests were focused elsewhere. Azumi thought of visiting the other booth that came before them out of curiosity. There must be something wonderful by the stall if everyone flocked over to it, perhaps it may be possible for her to snag something for a decent price. She only hoped that her approaching Yulu would not be seen as her attempting to steal the Ghost's customers.

She circled every knickknack placed here and there. They mostly consisted of bones. She wondered if these would be useful in creating talismans and other magical objects she loved to conjure. It was within her nature as a fox spirit to gain knowledge and insight from said knowledge. It was then she suddenly asked Yulu a flurry of questions, as she always does whenever curiosity got the best of her.

"What's this made of? Can you make a flute out of it? Is it enchanted? Ooh, can I touch this one? Do you have anything on sale? Anything with a discount, perhaps? Do you like my son's singing?", Azumi asked rapidly as she circled Yulu this time out of sheer excitement. Granted, the last question seemed rather out of context. It was only given a context when Ren actually began to sing and play one of the electric guitars he borrowed from their own booth. The guitar in question was a Fender Starcaster Classic Vibe.

Ren was bored as he had nothing to do after his mother went to the other stall, so he decided to play his favorite Green Day song.

He sang:

"Remember
Whatever
It seems like forever ago
Remember
Whatever
It seems like forever ago
the regrets are useless in my mind
she's in my head, I must confess!
the regrets
are useless in my mind
she's in my head, so long ago!"

Thankfully, the volume of both his singing and amplifier were not loud enough to disturb anyone who did not like loud noises, Ren being one of those people. It is an oddity considering he loved to listen to punk rock.

Attracted to the familiar song like a moth to the flame, Esmeryle's oversized cloak drags along the conference's floor as she crawls towards Ren's voice. She then sat up with a twinkle in her eyes, her tail swishing and slapping the ground to that familiar beat. She hadn't heard this song since she was a teenager, and it brought back some great memories.

Once the recital was finished, she began clapping her claws, thankful for the impromptu song number and reminder of her old life.