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[scension]

🧙 WHO: Hythlodaeus, Emet-Selch, Sagi
⚔️️ WHAT: Hyth drags a grandpa through the rain (where light and darkness fade, oh) to a gaming convention, coincidences ensue
🕒 WHEN: Early April
🗺️ WHERE: CameCon
⚠️ WARNINGS: Potentially body horror mentions at some point, otherwise will edit in!

[The hall of Camelot City's convention centre is an impressive sight, unless you are Ancient-sized, which would probably make it just a room. It's the middle of the day: the stalls are bustling, some of the most popular game showcases on the illusion stages are in full swing, spirits are high, and the floodwaters as of yet are not.

It would be difficult to pick out any one familiar face in crowds like this, unless it too was Ancient-sized. Still, this convention was widely advertised all around town, its attractions noisily colourful and its staff welcoming. Who knows who might have showed up here today?]

Comments

pre meeting (emet+hyth)

[scension]

meeting

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[Sagi, personally, is not bothered about peeking into the convention hall alone. Sure, it's noisy, but he can head back outside whenever he wants. Besides, he's not even alone; his friend is right here boggling at the bizarre sights along with him. They just share a body, that's all.

In the meantime, nobody can judge him for people-watching - and there are so many people, chatting and laughing and roaming and playing phone games like they all know exactly what they're here for. It's fascinating. He's never seen anything like it, not even in the imperial capital when they would wheel out the confetti machina for the Emperor's birthday and other national holidays.

He wishes he had a certain someone else to share the atmosphere with. That's what's running through his mind as he contemplates a table full of little handmade game mascot plushies, looking much deeper in thought than he actually is. And also pretty immediately recognisable as a five-years-younger version of a certain unfortunate young man from a certain shared dream... if anyone was looking, which they aren't.

While he resists the urge to stick any of the merch in his mouth for now, he can't restrain himself from poking one of the plushies at the front of the table in the head, a turquoise-blue fishy-looking critter. Its face reminds him of a greythorne.]

Oh wow, that's really soft. Hmm... Which one would you go for? If you had to pick.

[He's talking to himself, not the politely nonplussed plushie-maker. When is he ever not talking to himself?]

after meeting (emet+sagi)

[scension]

[At some point, Hythlodaeus's attention is diverted by... something. It started off as a simple query about the slogans for sale at a stall full of t-shirts, but the big black and red Gamer Clock (TM) on a nearby wall ticks on and on, and still Hythlodaeus has not shut up yet. He has initiated a scholarly investigation into the societal concept of individual clothing, delved into the fundamental metaphysics of what it means to perceive versus simply physically seeing, and is now describing something he had for lunch a week ago while inviting counterexamples. He may be at this for a while.

Sagi would like to excuse himself, honestly - but at this point, he's not sure how. Up and walking away without a word would be rude, and it's not as if he had other pressing plans this afternoon, or else he wouldn't be here. So he just stands there, occasionally awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other - slowly, slowly inching backward from the table Hyth is so vocally monopolising.]

...Does he always talk this much?