I started the week in my laboratory, doing one thing I've tried for years to avoid: sleep in it. This is why the place was devoid of beds or comfortable chairs with enough support after all, but after having brought the armchairs all the way there, I simply had enough energy for a last work writing the last log entry before taking a "six hours nap" in the freshly brought-in piece of furniture. The best of intentions cannot truly get in the way of what the body needs after all.
Stranger still were the events at my return to consciousness. (or a reasonable impression of it) Indeed, I was met by employees from none other than Garlond Ironworks, a company whose unique blend of bold creativity and moral tempering I somewhat admire. As a result, when they asked for the ability to rent at a fair price the analysis devices in the laboratory, I accepted right away. I did ask some more details even as the engineers were taking to a caravan nodes, tables and integrated analysis units alike, but they kept the topic under wraps due to security concerns. At this point I did have a few misgivings of course, but their promise of a report at the machine's restitution did do enough to tide me over. Besides, I didn't have that much time to argue given my own appointments. And so with one last look at the strangely empty laboratory, I went back to Vylbrand.
The operation in question was certainly large scale. A round table of the main Lomsinian factions along with the major beast tribes of the isles. A high stakes meeting for which an eye for trickery was certainly useful. Or at least would have been, if the meeting did happen. But, after having scrubbed for nascent magicks, secret crystal stores and hidden magitek devices multiple ships top to bottom, one of the factions, one of the pirate factions might I add, just decided not to show up. Just like that.
And so, what was planned as a punctual display of high end security ended up being an overblown escort for a handful of Sahagin and Kobold delegates with nothing much to do but take in the sights. Thankfully a specialist, I wasn't part of the poor crew that had years of training pay off by playing tour guides... It's a bit unfair to put it like that, I suppose at the time I was mostly annoyed that a handful of people can so callously let an olive branch wither like this.
Things took a turn for the interesting a couple of days later thankfully. With outside help, and a renewed motivation, the admirality led a direct operation that brought back the defecting pirate crew back in line, and then went one step further, starting a new draft of the relationship them and the beastmen are having. Great, if confusing news at the time. I am not privy to the details of the operation, but it did seem that things moved real fast all of a sudden for a reason.
This, to me, became apparent and clear once the operation was over, leaving me free to attend the very next day an Ishgardian conference at Saint Endalim's Scholasticate. And what a conference that was. You know you're starting strong when your opening statement includes facilitating the deployment of a cure for tempering. This sounds ludicrous enough a concept in itself, but well, some mused that the primal influence could be directly fought against when pigs fly, and the current solution involves flying piglets of all things, so I guess they were right on their money here.
The theory behind the fact is perhaps even more... Ludicrous and incredible at the same time. Up is down, down is up, birds burrow and moles soar through the skies, warm is cold and the frost burns. I am being a bit dramatic here perhaps, but apparently, these new developments required making the assumption that astral polarities applied to elements draws them towards stasis, while an umbral polarity draws to action instead. Not only that, but also that light and darkness merely corelate to these aspects rather than embody them. This will... Take a while to process.
Speaking of processing. Turns out the solution to the tempering problem was achieved via a Garlond Ironworks supercluster of Allagan processing center, which was pushed past its limit, and exploded shortly after yielding results. Turns out this was why they mobilized so many devices. Which are now burned and in pieces. Including mine. You know it's a good conference when a hefty amount of all the work you've done so far has been shattered both theorically and indeed, literally.
I tend to try my best not to drown my sorrows. But this isn't so much sorrows as a complex, as of yet untangled yarn ball of feelings. And it is one that stems from a once in a lifetime and then some recalibration of how we view the world. And after careful consideration of the pros and cons, I came to the following conclusion: "fuck it, let's get shitfaced"
And so the evening went. No specific color theme this time, just people dancing, and people pretending they're just about to dance but don't want to steal the spotlight. I'm the latter, obviously. I came in with a couple of people from the conference, but lost them in the crowd pretty early on. That or they left on their own accord. Their loss in that case of course. As for me, I shared Nanami Blasts which are somehow still named this way after fishing the owner from a hot tub, and then brought the one I shared the blast with all the way back to the lab... Which isn't that much of a lab these days I suppose, so all the more room for some enjoyment.
I suppose I should have left with fond memories of a good time, but strange moods have an impressive ability to perpetuate. And even as the tall, beautiful, naked Viera in front of me told me how much she enjoyed that evening and what we did on the armchairs (that was a pain to clean afterwards), all I could think of is that she looked sincere, but that I couldn't just leave that impression. Little old me.
Sure I had some studium experiences, cultivated a bit of dexterity, and don't let myself rush at the first bit I see before mechanically harassing it but by hearing the words of many, that's enough to make me amazing and I just can't buy it. Not because I think them insincere, but because I just genuinely don't feel like I'm putting a strong effort. There's no plan, no secret sauce, no carefully crafted, personalized effort or anything. And like... Do people just have personal lives they fill so consistently that my mild efforts are enough to wow them? Menphina's love, it sounds more pretentious than I'd like but still it's all like in this aspect as well, I was blind to a fundamental truth of this world. Like, do happy couples and joyous, adventurous singles alike just have bad sex on the regular? Enough to make me. Me. Look notably good in comparison?
Also I'd have to investigate if there's something in my taste that's different because four different completely unrelated people in the last three weeks told me I tasted great and it feels way too specific to be just a corny line. Except I can't investigate it, because I have no analysis machines because they exploded, but I can't be mad because they exploded for the sake of discovering a cure to friggin' tampering.
I'm just gonna rest for a day. Lie down. Think. I thought the current logs might have helped organize my thoughts, but reading things again, it all feels more disorganized than ever. And was barely related to the life experiences research. I've certainly experienced... Things. A whole lot of them but... Nevermind, I will simply publish this article, and at worst, what? Slight regrets at a sub-optimal ungraded unreviewed personal work? I'll be fine.
I'll be fine.
