Offscreen Activities

[Jackie Cat]

Shortly before the latest trip to the Congress, Odette receives a hand-penned letter by airborne courier.

It reads:

To my dear Odette,

I write to you now in a state of mind I have not felt for some time now. My conviction, which I held to for so long, and by which I was subsequently abandoned, has at last returned to me. In truth, I have taken your words to heart, and find I no longer have the stomach to continue in my present role as I have done for these many long years hence. With each passing lunar phase, I am drawn ever further, inexorably, to this simple, singular conclusion — I have been ill-used. Well, no longer. I shall rectify my course. In a word, I quit. I quit!

No longer shall I be an agent of the Sable Office, to carry out my precise and sharp-edged tasks without due awareness of why I should undertake them. I shall henceforth set my own goals, and carry them out according to my own code. What exactly I shall do next is a matter on which I continue to deliberate... but until I know for certain what is right, I shall have to trust in the direction my own feelings take me, giving the greater weight to those I find most clear and natural, in the balance of my spirit.

Do not mistake me — my soul lives in a cold and unlit night of late, and in this way my present state is much like the rest of my life, such as it has been — but there are small warmths nonetheless, will-o-wisps though they may prove to be. Therefore, I will follow them, though they may lead me to unsafe roads. I shall find my way through, as surely as a bullet finds its mark.

Should our next meeting fail to materialise, please know that you have altered my future, and I shall never regret my drifting into this new and unfamiliar distributary of fate. I wish only to give my thanks, and my encouragement to do for others as you have done for me, and to believe in your own best self, insomuch as you perceived one in me.

Yours in lantern-light,

Nolan Reed​

 

[Chibi Pika]

After the chaos at the Shining Congress had quieted down, Laura would find that a letter had been slipped into her travel pouch at some point when she wasn't looking. It's penned in a familiar handwriting from an address shared many months ago:

​

I intend to keep the promise we made to share information for mutual benefit.​

I have discovered a lead on the whereabouts of the missing relic from the Isle of Light.​

Meet with me in Reven Hollow four days from now. Bring your party if you like.​

Recovering the relic may be an ordeal.​

​

-R​

 

[Ambyssin]

There had been a notable absence from the chaos at the Shining Congress in the form of Nova. He lay asleep for the duration of the conflict, unaware as to the dangers his allies had faced. The rest was not blissful. He found himself dreaming of geysers of golden light all around him. Of his limbs getting pulled in different directions. Of a heat that burned deep within, wanting nothing more than to escape and join the golden light erupting around him.

The sights were vaguely familiar. Because he'd made such things happen before. Far, far too many times to units that could no longer serve their primary purpose.

He struggled to find his voice in this strange space. Though he opened his beak, nothing actually came out. All he could wonder is if something was happening back home.

And from one of the golden geysers, a vaguely star-shaped silhouette looked back at him. With mismatched rainbow eyes. When Nova met the star's gaze, his fur prickled. He itched in places he couldn't scratch.

His gut told him that, with Forlas' fabric weakened so much, the stasis the star was helping to preserve was unraveling. And the effects of what he'd set in motion back home — his kill switch — were resonating deep within his spirit. He wasn't sure why his gut told him that. Perhaps the star was foisting thoughts upon him in lieu of a proper conversation.

It continued like this for an unknown amount of time. Long enough for Nova to wonder if his time in Forlas would suddenly and abruptly end.

But it didn't. He woke up to Brisa's Cabin, flooded with sunlight.

... Except he could barely see any of it.

Though he blinked repeatedly, his vision didn't improve. A great cone of darkness swirled around his periphery and what was there lacked much of the hues and colors he'd come to appreciate. He hurriedly located a mirror and recoiled at the sight.

Golden lines ran across his pelt. Embers drifted out of them. The rocky studs on his tail were chipped and the membrane had multiple tears in it. His beak and crest, once golden, had rusted. His turquoise eyes were now a dull gray, with clouded, milky irises. One cheek bolt had a spiderweb crack in it. Mercifully, it wasn't the one with the drive for the memory disks.

He staggered back to where he'd woken up. Like when the group had been scattered, he found a folded piece of paper with an eight-pointed star on it. He unfolded it and squinted, trying to make out what was written.

I've lent what power I can to keep you together. Please finish your business soon. The world needs its Legend Plate back.

 

[Namohysip]

After making sure they had their new companion properly secured, and they had a means to set up for what was to come--or at least, she assisted in the prep work--Mhynt happened to spot Nova's disheveled form. She quickly went by his side to see what was wrong and ask. Owen, too, seemed worried for him.

Whatever the issue, it seemed that Mhynt had another layer of urgency in making sure they could deal with Arthur swiftly.

She remarks to the others that Gerome also appears to be moody, though he is willing as usual to assist in his own passive ways at the bar.