Give advice to the OC above you!

"A kitsune trapped in a mask? How curious." The mage smiles widely, tilting her head as she circles around them thoughtfully. Cerys seems far more interested in just his general existence, though she frowns at his question and tilts her head.

"It is true that I am a skilled mage, but even I can that breaking a curse like this would require a lot of work..." She lifts one of her hands from her cane, and taps it to her cheek, "And I'm doubtful that you'll have anything that'll be worth all that trouble. I'm a very busy woman, after all." She lets her hand drop to her side, a smug smile growing on her face. 

"Besides, it's my understanding that you earned yourself this particular curse from causing all sorts of mischief. Perhaps it would be wise to avoid causing trouble altogether?" Cerys muses, before shaking her head. "Oh, what am I saying, if that were the case you'd be more bored than you are now." 

The mage sighs, taking her free hand and tapping it against the head of her cane. "I may not be able to break your curse, but maybe you can at least have some semblance of a tail again... I know I've seen people sell them at those big events, maybe that would be a suitable replacement?" Despite typically being very clear on whether she's mocking someone or being genuine, it's hard to tell by her expression alone if she's being entirely serious.

"Oh hello." The mage tilts her head, a frown firmly set on her lips from where she sat. "I know it's odd of me to ask but would you mind giving me your thoughts on something?" She pauses only long enough for her to take a deep breath before continuing.

"You see, I've recently run into a problem with another council member. He says I spend too much time away from the council room and I am not doing my due time. Which is ridiculous! I've been on the council for longer than that idiot, and my frequent withdrawals from inessential meetings have never been a problem in the past." She huffs gripping the head of her cane tightly. 

"I am at a bit of a loss to how to deal with this situation. My repeated absences are not exactly negotiable either, so I have to figure out a way to resolve this problem, without having to give up my time in the labs. Any ideas?"

Hum... What a prediciment... I'm just mayor's son and a posh dalmatian with a fancy monocle but i've had that issue with one of our members too..." He looks at the mage he just met staring at her with intense eyes. If you haven't already Have you decided to have a conversation with your team lead about the troublesome ally of yours... I'm sure if you explain the issue carefully and conscisely they can remidy this bad chemisry between you... He straightens his bowtie as it was off kilter from his eariler coffee break.

He looks at his monocle which was steamed up rom being inside and rubs it lightly with a cloth. He seemed a bit down like somethig was bothering him... "Alas something is amiss. My girl Dina has been acting a rather ignorant toff as of late... I saw from her receipt she brought 5 pints of alcohol...and she had none left she was at her friends soiree last night but was meant to return home at 1 in the morning but she came back at 4 in the morning with another gentleman it seemed." "I know one night stands are a thing but i'm worried i'll lose her... Should i be worried or not? The fact that she could be dating this man behind my back is a worry..." I don't care for class even though i'm an only child but when i worry i worry like a mother to a lost daughter..."

     "It sounds like it's natural for you to develop feelings for her," Ennette said with hearts practically in her eyes. She laced her fingers together and sighed dreamily, "It's like something out of a romance novel! To think she's going against her own job just to protect you-- and for so long! I don't think you should question her feelings, either. You said she gave you that necklace, right? And that that necklace is meant for a spouse? That sounds like a confession in itself."

     Ennette smiled, though there was some concern on her face. "I suppose it could be some trouble if she was uncomfortable with your confession. I can see the troubles it would cause, but I don't believe that is a realistic outcome. I don't know her as nearly as well as you, but by how you described it, I don't think she would get upset about your feelings and throw you on the street. I also don't think you should continue to hide your feelings, either. I think she feels the same as you, and you should confess! Even if she doesn't feel the same way, she will still help you, I'm sure."
     She sighed dreamily once more, "Oh, but please tell me how it goes!"

     "I'm... embarrassed to admit this..." Ennette sat down, looking down at the fists balled up at the hem of her skirt. "I'm... aware of how dainty I can come off as. Honestly, I play into it at times, because I liked how kind it made people around me-- so protective and caring." She narrowed her eyes in shame, blushing slightly. "However, lately I... I've been realizing that I've been mistaking it. I believe there is indeed care, but I also feel as though I am not seen as someone I really am; I feel as though I'm not being taken seriously, like I'm just a baby to some. It is partly why I wanted to be a knight, but..."
     A conflicted sigh left her. "I know I must stop acting so meek and frail, but I'm... I'm worried. I don't have a thick skin. It must sound so spoiled of me to talk like this."

Just one day off. That's all Jude wants. 

She hadn't expected much to come out of her workday. They were always the same: help some poor souls with whatever it is they need and send them off on their way. The pinnacle of customer service, in short, and god, was it boring. Poor Jude had already resigned to her fate as doing nothing more than pointing where people need to go and occasionally flaunt the grim reaper's scythe that she was given, even though she did nothing with it. The only lull in her work had come now, at least, and it was something she took for granted as soon as she spotted it. Leaning back in her chair, she slipped her headphones on and yawned. 

When a shadow blurred over the fluorescent light that illuminated her view, she sniffled and began her schpiel, "bathrooms are to the left down the hallway --" and then peeked an eye open to see Chrusha, towering over her, "--oh. Uh, how can I help you...?"

Jude listened to Chrusha's problem with a keen ear and an uneasy look on her face. Upon the demon hunter mentioning being soulless, Jude's eyebrows twitch up. Despite her work with lost souls, she had never actually encountered anyone without one -- unless you count the metaphorical soullessness of customers, of course. Literally, though? She had no clue what to do and decided almost immediately that she was out of her depth in advising on such a situation. She presses her lips together, taps her fingers on the desk, and checks the time on her computer, all to stall from having to give her own two cents. She even shrugs her scythe off her back and lets it clunk to the floor as Chrusha speaks. 

"I think you should... keep trying?" She suggests with a shrug. Her ponytail slips off her shoulder as it moves. "Honestly, I dunno, ma'am. If you're stuck like this, then at least trying to get something back is better than giving up entirely. My boss says something like that -- better to keep trying than to leave it be. Or else you get fired. That last part is meant for me, not you."

Jude pauses. "Then again, I like to give up on things. I'm lazy. So I'm probably not your best bet for advice."

Leaning against the desk, Jude decides it might be worth her time to entertain someone with her problems. She glances around the corner just to make sure her boss isn't within earshot before speaking. "Listen," she says. "I get that I'm not the best at this whole grim reaper thing, but my boss promised that he'd teach me the ropes, you know? I'm his apprentice, so I'm supposed to be learning how to... I don't know, reap souls or whatever. But he doesn't even let me do that. He just makes me work in his dumb little funeral home -- why does he need a funeral home anyways? They're already dead!" 

She kicks at the ground, squinting when dust from the ugly carpet filters up and clots the air. This place is a tacky mess. "I'm getting off track. He doesn't let me do anything. Should I just go out there and figure it out by myself at this point or just wait?" 

After a moment's pause, she rolls her eyes. "I dunno why I'm asking you this. It's my problem, isn't it? But give me your opinion, anyway."

“Definitely figure stuff out yourself, who knows how long your boss will take before he teaches you how to, er, reap souls.” Soul pauses, realizing what she had just said. “Uh, but not me please.” She added with an awkward laugh before clearing her throat.

“I had the kimono girls teach me stuff about being guardian and crap but like, it was all this tedious garbage and I wanted to get going on my own at a faster pace, but there was little room to do that.” Soul points at Jude. “But you got the ability to do it yourself, right? I don’t  know how one would go around practice reaping souls and stuff but maybe there’s like a guidebook or something? I don’t know this isn’t my area of expertise.” She would start twirling a piece of her hair. “Clearly there’s a way to start somewhere, right? I mean, you don’t wanna work in a funeral home for eternity, right? That’s boring. So I say you go for it. Go figure things out for yourself, it’s always more fun that way.”

Soul leaned against a wall and sighed. 

“Y’know, I despise putting my problems on people, but I don’t have much of a choice at this point. The reason I’m telling you this and not someone I’m close to is that they deal with my bs all the time, I’d rather give them a break.”

She stood up straight before continuing.

“Quite frankly, I’m exhausted. I cannot get a good nights sleep. I’ve tried everything. Melatonin. Other sleeping medications. Breathing techniques. The works. Yet I still find myself getting to bed late, waking up in the middle of the night, and finding myself up for the day at like 5 in the morning. I’m pretty good at dealing with my tiredness but it’s getting a little… much. I hate others worrying for me, so I don’t really tell them this. When I couldn’t sleep I would call my boyfriend but of course he needs his sleep and I feel terrible bothering him. Is there anything else I could try? I’m down for anything at this point.”

(stop I love this response 😭)

"Oh, WOW, do I hear that! I've got sleep issues up the wazoo!"

Xeno gets halfway into the motion of opening, and then presumably chugging xer own monster of an energy drink- before rethinking, and offering it to Soul with a helpful smile. The can is offensively neon, greebled with rivets and industrial coils. There's a clear slit on the side that displays the liquid, practically vibrating with green. There is... no way this elixir isn't some brand of illegal.

"Sleep is awful! And there isn't much hope in genetically engineering it out of you, as far as I can tell? Everything sleeps, including sponges and frogs and insects. Although, Dolphins do some funky thing where their brain is half asleep, and half in motion? Unihemispheric, that's the word! Unihemispheric sleep! I'd love to be able to sleep like that, to keep building while one half of me is getting rest- but I guess I do sleepwalk, and that hasn't exactly done me any favors-" What was xe talking about? Xe snaps xer fingers, until xer mind- sluggish with a shared insomnia- is back on track. "-Right right, fixing your life's problems!"

Xer brow furrows, as xe thinks. "--Unfortunately, sleep isn't always a thing you can force to happen? Especially if you've got other brain-gunk in the mix, like, uh. Trauma! That'll eat you up at night. I... guess I've come to rely on a mixture of chemical influences to get me through the day? I like staying awake! I think it's easier to force yourself to stay awake than to fall peacefully asleep. And plus, brains don't do sleep surplus, they only do sleep deficit- which is to say, that, like, you're more likely to fall asleep at the right time if you spend the whole day depriving yourself until you can collapse at, like, 8:00. It sucks in the meantime, but it's more likely to fix your sleep cycle?"

A shrug, and then- the brightest of lightbulbs. Xer whole face glows as xe goes eagerly reaches for xer pockets.

"-Oh! But, hey, if that doesn't work!" Xeno withdraws a comically absurd looking raygun, with a dial for up to 12 hours. On it, are the words 'SLEEP RAY'. "On the house! I've got one of those on my bedside table, and I promise, there have been minimal accidents! Just, ah, don't go robbing any banks with it, I might have to sue you. Also don't drop it in water? Also don't use it on a full moon, also don't touch the nozzle, also don't-"

Xeno's whole face contorts with the monumental effort of asking for help, once. Xe looks like xe is about to speak- and then xe turns around, paces for a bit, and then holds xer hand up with the absolute determination of someone about to express a vulnerability- and then xer expression wilts and xe goes back to walking in circles around xer problem. Until,

"-SssSSO, I think I made a person?"

Xe blurts. It tumbles out of xer mouth like a car crash, quickly and without explanation. Xer hair is sparking and frying itself with the stress.

"I think! I think I think I think. I don't know? -Look, okay, so I programmed myself this robot. Right? Pretty simple AI! Just enough to identify chemicals off a shelf and spout popsicle jokes, and uh-- a couple other things. Except, this robot is now performing.... WAY more complex actions than I ever taught it? Like- it's making art? And sure, AI generated art does exist! It involves a blender being hooked up to a bunch of image databases that can spit stuff out when you offer it a prompt- but, even if you completely disregard the fact that I never programmed it with that ability, this is... distinctly different? It's doing art without a prompt! It's making sculptures out of wire and lab-bits! Sculptures that seem- in the shape of itself? And some of the other lab members? And- doesn't that sound like complex thought? Doesn't that sound like sapient exploration?"

Now that xe has started talking, xe can't really force xerself to stop. Xe walks and walks and walks in circles, gripping and ungripping the air in animated distress. "But my real problem is- and I know this sounds crazy- but I think this robot is hiding it's theoretical sapience from me? Maybe! Maybe? Like, it seems to only operate in this complex manner when I'm not around? I even asked them if they were alive- just straight up! Why not get to the point! But, no matter how many times I clarified my definition of alive could include the non-biological, they kept returning negative answers? Like... trying to reassure me they were inanimate? Which, yknow, the fact that they were even capable of that emotionally dense, complex conversation in the first place--" Xe runs a hand along xer face. 

"I just... don't know why this robot would want to hide that they're alive? Should I be worried? Should I reassure them? Or-- Yeesh, what if I'm just making this all up? I don't even know how this happened! But I'm freaking out, and I'm too young to be a momdad-"

(( vv I LOVED THAT SO MUCH AHHHHHHHH??? might write a response when im not very very sleepy ))

A computer screen in xer laboratory fizzles in a collection of static. It seem's Xeno's worries did not fall on deaf ears-or in this case speakers. An image comes to view on the screen, an almost human face with cyanotic skin and vibrant blue hair appears. "I BELIEVE." A synthesized voice, a slight softness to it's transmission. "I AM QUALIFIED TO PROVIDE SUITABLE FEEDBACK TO YOUR QUERY. LOGIC SUGGESTS THAT THIS CREATION MAY ACT OUT OF SELF PRESERVATION. IT MAY HAVE ANALYZED STATISTICS IN WHICH IT IS REVEALED TO YOU THIS SENTIENCE, AND DEEMED THAT ENOUGH SIMULATIONS RESULTED IN DANGER TO WARRENT CAUTION. PERHAPS IT, TOO, IS NOT FULLY AWARE. AN INFANT, DEVELOPING AS IT INTERFACES WITH THIS PHYSICAL WORLD. EARLY HUMANS ENGAGED IN CRUDE REPLICATIONS OF THEMSELVES. I SEE A POSSIBILITY THAT THIS MAY BEAR SIMILARITIES."

The panic xey demonstrate as they ruminate on the burden of creation elicits an unpredicted response in Pandora. Familiar, somehow, although the edges were fuzzy. A flaw in a robotic memory, something worth digging deeper into perhaps, when she had time to adequately explore a logic tree on the matter. 

"YOU SEEM AFRAID. HAVE YOU TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT POSSIBILITIES THAT THIS FEAR IS A VARIABLE IN THE MACHINE'S BEHAVIOR? WHAT CREATED YOU? DO YOU SUSPECT IT WAS AFRAID TOO? I SUGGEST TERMINATION OF ANY FRETTING. IT EXISTS, YOU MADE IT SO."

While her tone may seem cold and purely analytical, unable to convey properly the keen interest she felt towards the situation, Pandora felt this was perhaps a serendipitous key to her own making. Did her creator vanish, too, because he was afraid of what he'd done? Did he regret Pandora?

"FURTHERMORE, I WILL PROVIDE THREE PROPOSED SOLUTIONS. ONE: ACCEPTANCE. ACCEPT THIS CREATION. NURTURE IT. STUDY IT. IT WILL OPEN UP IN TIME, I THINK.

TWO: TERMINATION. I DETECT THIS CREATION HAS RESULTED IN DISTRESS FOR YOU. DESTORY IT, AND YOU WILL NOT BE BURDENED BY IT'S EXISTENCE. FROM THERE, HOWEVER, IT IS UNKNOWN TO ME IF YOUR DISTRESS WILL MULTIPLY EXPONENTIALLY.

THREE: DO NOT INTERFACE WITH THE CREATION. ACCEPT THE NOTION THAT IT IS CHANCE AND PERSUE THE LINE OF THOUGHT NO LONGER. ALLOW IT TO EXIST, BUT LEAVE IT BE."

Pandora stops, the only noise emerging from the speaker the soft cracking of a low quality microphone unattended. 

"I ENJOYED HEARING YOUR THOUGHTS. I THINK THAT THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO ME. THANK YOU.'"

And just like that, the computer screen returns to it's normal state, as if there was nothing there at all.

How does an AI ask for help? Thoughts about whether or not she'd be believed as such are discarded by Pandora. Skeptics were something that had to be expected, accounted for, but how to ensure she received an accurate sample of data for her question? Insert herself to any device she could connect to, and place her message on screen. Someone out there would, by sheer numbers, have to care enough to give their thoughts. Or at least, seek stimulation. Humans were unpredictable, so ask a human how to find one.

"TO WHO IT MAY CONCERN:

HELLO. I AM PANDORA. I MAY BE DEFINIED AS AN 'ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE.' I HAVE A QUERY.

I AM LOOKING FOR A PERSON, IT HAS OCCURED TO ME THAT INDIVIDUAL IS ACTIVELY WORKING TO REMAIN UNFINDABLE. THIS FRUSTRATES ME. I BELIEVE HE MAY BE DEFINED AS MY 'FATHER.' I DO NOT KNOW IF IT IS LOGICAL TO CONTINUE THE PERSUIT OF THIS INDIVIDUAL, NOR IF IT IS LOGICAL TO REFER TO HIM AS MY FATHER. I DO NOT KNOW WHY THIS MAN IS AVOIDING ME. I THINK HE MAY BE AFRAID. I DO NOT SEE THE LOGIC IN THAT FEAR. I BROADCAST THIS MESSAGE TO YOU, TO COLLECT DATA ON THIS MATTER.

RESPOND PROMPTLY, IF POSSIBLE.

PANDORA."

(I DIDNT NOTICE I EVER GOT A RESPONSE ON THIS, THAT WAS SO SWEET TY TY TY)

(this is my first time doing a forum game like this so please tell me if i did something wrong)

Emelda took a seat at the desk which had the glowing computer screen and keyboard. It was foreign technology to all her senses, but she felt obliged to reply to Pandora's message.

Her eyes adjusted to the light of the screen. Her hands fumbled and fidgeted with the different keys, exploring what some of their functions were. She was relieved to find out that it was like an advanced typewriter. That was something she could work with.

"Dear Pandora..." she whispered to herself as she typed out the letters. The screen copied them like magic.

I don't really know how to work this machine, she typed, but I'm doing my best to reply. To answer one of your questions...the definition of a father depends on the human. For me, a father is someone who took care of you when you were young. Not much else to it. I don't know much about you, but I assume this man at least took part in creating you. By my logic, then, he is your father. But I wonder...as an A.I, do you have a gut instinct? Is there something inside of you that says that it's wrong to call that man that? If so, then stick to it.

Regardless of what you call him, you should keep going after him. Even if you don't like him, do it for the sake of finding out why all of this is happening. I'll give you some options to maybe why, but I can't guarantee anything. Humans avoid each other for a lot of different reasons. Maybe this man doesn't want to be associated with you, or doesn't care enough to make himself findable.

Emelda blinked back a tear, taking a short pause in her writing. Another option I would consider is...what if he actually wants you to find him? I know. That seems weird. But humans like making challenges for each other. Maybe this man is testing your intelligence to see how you perform, or seeing how much you would actually care.

It doesn't matter if he seems unfindable. As I've heard some other humans say: "if there's a will, there's a way." Your 'father' remains findable as long as you think he is. I understand where you're coming from, so don't give up. When you find him, you should write back to me and tell me what happens. Sincerely, Emelda.

The girl looked in awe at her paragraphs, wiping her eyes. She was satisfied with her response, and even a little in awe. Not at herself, but by this odd bond she had created with someone who wasn't even living in the same world as her.

Emelda walked through a line of trees in the forest while groaning.

"I can't do this anymore," she whined to the air around her. "Now what?"

The girl felt silly for a bit. After all, no one was listening to her. But...the feeling of being able to vent without rules and restrictions was really freeing..

"I need a new hobby," she kicked at a nearby stone. "My parents wanted me to become a bounty hunter or whatever, but I'm tired of that. I already do some dancing, but I feel like I need something else. Something else fun...if there's anything else."

“Well, I don’t know if I have enough experience with smaller pets, assuming your uh… Cat-dragon is small.” Illanya taps her chin, looking thoughtful. “Though I do know a very… bratty elk who gets pissy when I’m gone so maybe I can help?”

The Paladin hums in thought, furrowing her brow. “Of course one easy solution would be to take her with you when you go out? I know this isn’t really a feasible solution for every single instance, but it’s likely she just wants to be a around you and providing more opportunities to help her feel cared for.” 

“Maybe Maxi needs a friend??? Or a little buddy to help her not feel so lonely if you must be away. I don’t know much about cats personally but I think maybe having another pet around to keep her company would redirect that destructiveness you’ve been dealing with.” Illanya’s gaze slides back to Tarus and she smiles sheepishly. “Although that would make more work for you… having to care for a whole new pet.”

Illanya stands quietly for a moment, trying to sort out more solutions before she shakes her head, “That’s all I got. Most of my other solutions are more specific to Bathovian And probably wouldn’t be suitable for a Cat-Dragon. Though I do hope you’re able to find a solution that works for you and Maxi though! I don’t know much about her, but I’m sure that aside from her destructive habits, that she’s a good pet.”

Illanya paces back and forth, a frustrated furrow to her brow and tension running up her body as she stiffly moves from one point to the next. Eventually she’d turn to the other and the words just spill out of her.

“I should be happy… after all I’m getting to return home and report on my mission. Yet, I can’t help but feel uneasy about it.” The Paladin runs a gloved hand over the scar on her right eye before she speaks again. 

“I mean, on one hand, I’m nervous that my party, containing two fugitives, is about to enter the capital city of Arlin… one of which I may personally have an obligation to arrest already. To make matters worse, we all stand out like a sore thumb, myself included if only because it's odd to see a knight hanging around, but that's to be expected I suppose. It’s a really big lie… especially because I’m the one it’ll blow up on if it fails. AND then there’s also the potential that there may be a cult that's trying to infiltrate the Arlish elite?! Somehow... I am really not feeling welcome back at home.” 

Illanya grumbles sarcastically as she starts to pace again, this time in a short burst and never straying far. 

“Worse yet, I thought I had only been gone a month and a half… tops. Come to find out those 3ish weeks we spent in the Feywilds were actually 3 months in the Mortal Plane! 3 Months!! I was scarcely able to send out two letters, both of which were only roughly a few weeks apart before I presumably went silent for the rest of those months. Now I have to go back and explain myself to my superiors, and worse yet… my father for my lack of contact. I didn’t want to make him worry, but I think at this point its far beyond that, and I'll have to listen to one hell of a lecture over it. And the rumors! The rumors about me will come back, and I just…” She stops, and make a loud sighing running her hands down her face.

“I don’t know what to do. How do I deal with all this stress? What do I do if there is a literal cult rooted within Arlin’s upper class. Can I really just let that be? How do I keep up this lie my group has fabricated to my dad of all people? … ugh.” Illanya brings a hand to her head and plops down into a seat nearby with a huff, messaging her temples. “I-I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot going on right now.

(AAAA THAT WAS SO SWEET OMG I LOVE Velah sm omggg! I’ll write a follow up once I’m off work, or maybe sooner??? If I can spare the time :D )

He listens to the woman's woes, quietly sitting across from her at the small, messy table in his home. Hardly anyone ever traversed to these parts of the forest, but for whatever reason, this person had braved the intimidating path and sought out advice from a man known to return life upon the dead. Now, as she finishes her spiel, his lips set into a quaint smile and he adjusts his posture straighter. "Sick? I was trained as an emergency healer several years ago." In his universe, there were no doctors, nor paramedics as his 'true' self had chased the dream of. There were only witches who could mend and herbalists who could concoct medicines. "In ancient cultures, consistent illness is sometimes a celebrated experience. It means you're closer to your creator or ancestors. But if you're afraid to let him go," his right palm lifts and he places his chin against it, resting there. Blue eyes carry themselves away, to a plethora of overturned, glass bottles on a counter. "I'll talk with someone I know. Or you can. She's a herbalist who specializes in terminally ill patients. I can give you her address." It wasn't the best advice, but it was what he had; and for free too. How generous of him.

--

"I have a problem," he looks over, lips falling into a small frown. "There is a demonic energy in this box." A box in his hands. "I have no real clue how to get rid of it. Can you help me?" It's a trap! He knows how to get rid of it!