MINGLE ∞ LOG — June 2025

[thediadem]

Mingle ∞ Log

No Lifeguard on Duty

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Jump ⇅ :: Intro — Prompts — NPC Interaction

Summary

What's going on?

An unexpected heat wave in mid-June, coupled with the cycling shutdown of all air conditioning units in motels across the Blocks, has made the summer unbearable. Meanwhile, the ever-eager storm chaser, Felix Bjurstrom, has uncovered a fancy resort with a pool in a diffusion zone only 1 hour out from Panorama. Lucky, right? Well...kind of. It's got some quirks.

When is this happening?

June 10 - 30

What should I know?

• This area is one of many diffusion zones that appear throughout the planet.
• A storm chaser is someone dedicated to studying the cosmic phenomenon in the Diadem. Felix is a pioneer in his field.
• A winding highway filled with old empty barrels will take you to the zone.
• Characters can travel with a friend to save on gas! Parking's limited, so it might not be a bad idea.
• At any given time, there's max several dozen visitors. Most work long hours, some are traveling through the diffusion zones, and others prefer not to risk the drive or waste precious gas, so it won't draw a huge crowd (but there's still a crowd!).
• This is a mingle rather than an event. Plot-heavy elements will be minor. The game's first proper event will be posted in July!

What does my character know?

• Having lost his phone, Felix will spread the word using good old-fashioned printed posters that he's put up around Panorama. A young woman is seen helping him. They appear to be close. Some say that's his daughter.
• Though the timing is impossible to predict accurately, Felix believes that due to this zone's unusual proximity to an anchor point, it has a high chance of persisting for 2-3 weeks.
• Directions are printed on the posters, though characters are also free to stumble across the zone by accident.

∞ Links ∞

Travel — Map — Setting

Introduction

The resort looks like your typical upscale vacation spot: a beautiful pool, lovely cabins, and plenty of pool chairs. The sky is perpetually nighttime and there are two moons. One moon is smaller than its sister and glows purple. The other looks like the Earth's moon. The weather is pleasantly warm. In fact, conditions are almost too perfect.

Other fluxdrifts are here, too, and you might come across them, all of whom are taking advantage of the pool. They'll converse superficially with you and will come and go randomly. You'll want to keep a close eye on your belongings. Other than cooling off, this isn't a bad place to start making connections. Life in the Diadem is better when you've got allies if not friends.

Just outside the resort is a spacious parking lot, designed for visitors. Nobody's following parking rules so put your car anywhere it fits. If you get blocked in, well, that's a problem for when you leave.

At the end of June, the diffusion zone will flicker and morph into an unremarkable overgrown park, long abandoned to the decades.

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Prompts

As you wander around, you discover deactivated androids in many of the poolside huts. These androids cannot be mistaken for any organic species: their chassis is metal, and their heads are shiny. Circuits and wires are visible. But each is dressed distinctly human in a way that borders on disturbing. You spot lipstick drawn on some of the metal faces, as though they're playing dress up...or as if they don't realize they aren't human. One android is frozen in place with a diary clutched in its hands. Another has a hairbrush for its nonexistent hair.

Something seems to have destroyed them—perhaps a powerful EMP wave that knocked them all out. All except one.

The Bartender

The poolside bar is at the eastern end of the resort. There are plenty of seats. A few are occupied by deactivated androids. The bartender is also an android and appears to be the only functional one in this place. He speaks with a modulated voice and has a neutral accent. He exhibits the following behaviors if you sit at his bar:

• Icebreaker. Whether you're alone or with a companion, he'll try to get you all to be friends, asking random self-generated icebreaker questions. He'll be visibly disappointed if you don't play along.
• Bartending. While cheerful, he can't make the correct drink: it's always too strong, incredibly weak, added salt instead of sugar, messed up the ice. He's obviously doing his best, but it's just not working. The harder he tries, the worse he performs until it becomes a comedy of errors with stuff falling over, ice dumped in your lap, champagne corks flying, and any number of slapstick mishaps. You can help him out by mixing the drink yourself.

If you're nice to him, he'll introduce himself as Thomas Lustras. He's happy to tell you about his son. Strange, you think, but who says androids can't have paternal instincts? Yet, when the android takes out his wallet to show you a photo of his son—named Edward Lustras—the picture is that of a human child, roughly 5 years old, in the arms of his human father.

The driver's license in the same wallet confirms that Thomas is (was?) a real person. The picture on the license matches the human male in the photo. A half-scorched business card states that Thomas was a consultant at Outer Rim Resettlements. Thomas believes he's on a company retreat and wistfully declares he's eager to return home to his son.

Maybe don't look too closely. After all, this place will soon disappear. And so will he.

The Grill

It's not a vacation without a grill! Not a grillable item is in sight, though, so you'll have to rely on what you can bring out of Panorama. Some of the visiting drifters will pitch in to share, unloading hotdogs (some synthetic, others authentic, and some far past expiry), burger patties (same) and buns, and "kebabs" made of blocky frozen vegetable squares. The squares vaguely resemble corn, mushrooms, and pineapple. The texture is passable, like a flavor-infused block of tofu.

Fire up the grill and take turns grilling. You'll also have to manage the propane. The grill's also prone to sputtering out, requiring regular minor repairs to get it back up and going. Any loose bolts or screws can be taken out of the dead androids to replace the rusty ones in the grill. You're unsure if you should feel uncomfortable doing that or what, but it is a solution.

Parking Woes

Like any crowded event, the parking lot can get chaotic, and the lawlessness of the diffusion zones doesn't help. While some are happy to help barbecue, others are more interested in picking fights over who got to the parking space first. It won't take much for a fistfight to break out, and a knife fight isn't out of the question, either, though nobody'll be killed (this time).

You can let the troublemakers beat each other, or you can try to intervene if somebody who doesn't deserve it is getting harassed. Just avoid causing too much of a scene. Breaking noses is acceptable; gutting someone head to toe is not. There are Enforcers visiting the zone, and if you interfere with their nice pool time, they won't hesitate to haul away everybody involved and make you sit in jail for a few days.

Questions? Ask here

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Comments

g'raha tia | ffxiv | ota

[exarched]

I 💠 Androids

[ The posters had advertised a resort. And while G'raha Tia is not someone who really ever understood the word "vacation" or "holiday", the opportunity to spend time in one of these famous "diffusion zones" is not one he can pass up. And while the parking lot is a disaster (and G'raha is far too polite about it), he eventually makes his way into the resort, dressed appropriately...if only because he was convinced it was necessary.

Not long after arrival, G'raha spends a not insignificant amount of time inspecting the various androids around the property. And surely he isn't the only one, right? Were they strewn about like discarded rubbish it might be one thing, but that they are inside the poolside huts makes several questions come to mind. ]

Were these all placed in storage? It would seem this place would typically need a formidable staff. Yet...

[ He squats down next to one of them, carefully tilting the head over to inspect the painted face. ]

They do not appear to be in any sort of recognizable uniform.

II💠 Icebreaking the Bartender

[ Drinks? Yes. Investigating can work up a bit of an appetite or thirst and G'raha would be lying if he wasn't innately curious about the local cuisine. Well, "local" may be a bit of a misnomer in one of these "diffusion zones". But doesn't that make the chance to sample something in this specific area that much more unique? Ephemeral?

Android or not, G'raha is determined to be polite to their apparent host, though the android part does make him more interesting. G'raha watches with open fascination as Thomas shakes a metal shaker. His own experiences with robots, androids, and the like have not been like this at all. More magitech amalgamations to something far more complicated at the ends of the univserse. He thinks of the Allagan Nodes and their simplistic appearance. To make something like this must come from a desire to connect, mustn't it? To see something human. To see something familiar.

His tail swishes behind him excitedly. This one talks, this one moves. That makes it the perfect one to ask. ]

Is this something you might have been programmed to d--

[ When Thomas practically (albeit likely unintentionally) cuts G'raha off and poses a question to his guests--G'raha and the person next to him: ]

Pizza or tacos?

[ Or... ]

What incredibly strong opinion do you have that is completely unimportant in the grand scheme of things?

III 💠 Poolside

[ Given the heat, even despite the perpetual state of night, the poolside seems to be the most sensible place to spend some time. To cool off, naturally! Except...G'raha might be by the pool, but he is definitely not in pool. And he is not afraid of water, thank you.

No, in fact, he has found a comfortable lounge chair at a prime location, but instead of lounging with a (questionable) cocktail, he is sitting cross-legged and hunched over himself. Upon closer inspection, it's clear that he's writing furiously in a notebook. Every once in a while he glances, looking thoughtful for a moment, then flips a page and continues his task.

If he accidentally catches your gaze when he looks up, he will refocus and offer a friendly, if somewhat distracted smile. But he is approachable! (Unless you're Emet-Selch.) ]

Having a pleasant evening?

[ Alternatively, the other lounge chairs might fill up quick with the light crowds of the evening. And since he's not lounging, maybe he will be willing to give up his? ]

Ah, my apologies. Did you need somewhere to sit?

??? 💠 Wildcard

[ ooc; COME AT ME! His cr meme comment is here if you want to plot specifics. I default to brackets but am happy to match style! ]

III - lounge

[unsunder]

[ Speak of the devil, and he shall arrive.

It's very safe to assume that G'raha Tia didn't fully realize who he was addressing, given Emet-Selch's change of wardrobe, including a sweet pair of aviators, which he tugs down slightly so he can regard the miqo'te with a raised eyebrow. One corner of his mouth quirks up, the expression not exactly friendly. ]

Giving up your seat for me? How sweet.

[ You have about three seconds to rescind your offer, catboy. ]

[exarched]

[ The fact that he didn't immediately clock Emet-Selch as the man he is is a far greater blow to his pride than anything else. What would have been a polite relocation effort for the sake of his fellow "fluxers" (that was the term, right?) quickly becomes an embarrassing mistake.

The good-natured smile drains almost instantaneously from his face. ]

My mistake.

[ Unsurprisingly, G'raha settles right back down into his seat and re-opens his little journal with an audible twhip of paper and plastic onto his bare knees. ]

There are doubtlessly a number of dark corners you could slink off to.

[ In that...uncharacteristically jovial shirt. There is a considerable pause as G'raha looks his (former?) adversary over.

Did he...choose that himself? ]

[unsunder]

Tsk. How rude. Do I not deserve a chance to bask poolside as well?

[ He literally doesn’t care if he gets to sit here or not. It’s just awfully hard to resist the urge to be petty and difficult where G’raha is concerned, and it serves as a nice distraction from actually thinking about how their last interaction panned out.

He catches that look, brows knitting together. ]

If you have aught to say, then say it.

[ He’ll not be taking any sass from a man in a pastel windbreaker! ]

[exarched]

[ It is...painfully refreshing to bet at odds, yes. As childish as that even internal admission alone feels. So much so that while G'raha's carefully crafted instinct might be to simply leave his disapproving stare be all that sits with Emet-Selch for a while--now that such things can be done outside of his cowl--he gives into a baser desire... ]

It is a...surprisingly cheerful pattern for someone so keen on more macabre theatrics.

[ To be a little bit shite at Emet-Selch's dispense. ]

I don't suppose you picked it out yourself?

[ Alisaise would certainly support him. That's what matters, right? Right. ]

[retrievalist]

Nah, ground's as good a place as—

[ He looks down at the guy offering and stops speaking like he never learned how the moment he sees a set of cat ears perched on his head. And, you know, he's been with Leverage for a while now, and more importantly, his work colleagues are Alec Hardison and Parker, so Eliot knows weird—Eliot eat, sleeps, and breathes weird—so the ears aren't the issue. It's just that as he looks down they start moving and with everything that's happened to him in the last couple of days Eliot suddenly gets the feeling that they're not just a particularly life-like headband.

He spends a good thirty seconds staring at them, as though he might be able to divine their true nature, before finally remembering he was in the middle of something and finishes off, somewhat weakly, with: ] —any. Kind of you [ don't ask about the ears. ] to offer, though. [ don't ask about the ears. ] Besides, [ don't ask about the ears ] looks as though you're in the zone right now, [ DO NOT ASK ABOUT THE EARS ] and I'd hate to interrupt say are those ears real or..?

[exarched]

[ The thirty seconds could certainly be awkward--and, well, to some extent they are--as G'raha pauses partway through moving from his seat, expression open and congenial but waiting for a signal. Or...anything. Really. He wants to be polite having not really been paying attention to how long he's been there. (And with the night being everlasting it is easy to loose track.)

He raises his brows, glancing to the side, wondering if there is some sort of faux pas he unintentionally crossed. ]

...If you are certain--

[ Ah.

So that's what it is?

Despite it all, G'raha eases back onto the seat with a lopsided smile. Rather than answer the other man's question right out, he wiggles his ears a few times to demonstrate. ]

I take it that Miqo'te are not commonplace on your star? Or...Mystel or Hhetsarro?

[ At least there isn't a hint of judgment in his voice, all staring aside. ]

[retrievalist]

[ Eliot kind of looks like he's having to do a hard reboot behind his eyes. He mouths the word Miqo'te as though that might clear things up, and then attempts the same with Mystel and Hhetsarro. Nothing. He shouldn't be too shocked, really: there are two moons for crying out loud, and by his count the sun should have started peeking over the horizon by now. And that's not even the worst of it, but, well, he's always been very good at rolling with the punches. He'd woken up here and largely figured that he'd died, though he doesn't remember it all that clearly. Figured he was stuck in some kind of purgatory.

But that doesn't really explain the wiggling cat ears.

(Or the worst of the 90s fashion choices for that matter.)

And then what G'raha has just said finally catches up with him. ] But seeing me isn't any kind of a shock to you, huh. You got humans on your— [ uhhhh ] —star then?

[ Eventually he might even gain the wherewithal to stop staring but in the meantime, it's a good thing G'raha is so patient. ]

[exarched]

[ All foreign words, it seems, and solidifies that theory even before the other man responds. There is nothing wrong with curiosity after all, and G'raha is thankful that he is making this reconciliation process easy enough to read. Encountering an entirely different type of person is understandably confusing. At least he doesn't make fun of his totally appropriate outfit.

He nods--encouraging, even, as the other man draws all the correct conclusions. (And even seemingly adopts his terminology. That much does not go unnoticed!) ]

I have quite a few "human" friends-- [ Which does feel a bit odd, given that he would be considered "human" back home. But he is making a point to use familiar terminology himself. ] --though they would call you a "Hyur".

[ G'raha cants his head, curiosities of his own growing. ]

Where are you from, if I may ask? I take it you were equally curious about these "diffusion zones".

poolside!

[catharses]

[ Having learned the hard way a few times that the bartender is unreliable in meeting requests, to put it lightly, his drink this time around is just water. Probably for the best since he's still not recovered from the last cocktail which was far from his request (and far from drinkable) and a careful sip of it as Sunday walks confirms this is actually water. A relief, honestly.

His trip to the pool tonight isn't with one of the many paperbacks he's found on the shelves in his other hand but a different sort of book: the journal that made it here with him. An old habit he hadn't considered embracing beyond sentimentality, but he's found some delight in recording what's happened so far. Perhaps Dan Heng will appreciate the information for the data bank should there be a chance to add it.

As Sunday seats himself in a chair and sets his glass down onto the side table by it - and doesn't try to move the chair, having learned his lesson earlier when accidentally waking another guest - he glances up idly at someone nearby then pauses when realizing they seem to have the same idea. It's possible his gaze lingers a bit too long since when who he was observing looks up, Sunday inclines his head slightly in acknowledgement. ]

I certainly cannot complain given our surroundings. [ A nice break from having no air conditioning, certainly. He takes a seat in the chair with journal temporarily forgotten in his lap as he gestures to G'raha's notebook. ] You're the first I've seen hard at work on something here, I must say. Hopefully it is also something pleasant.

[exarched]

[ It is, indeed, nice to see that someone is of similar mind. But he will give due credit that many people appear to be curious about the state of this particular zone, however fleeting it may be in the end. As far as an introduction what these fluxing areas may be, it feels almost...welcoming.

Well, sans the disturbing imagery of the piled mechanical bodies parading as actual people around. That part he could do without, but in some ways isn't too surprised. Few things are simple.

Still, the resort itself is nice, almost idyllic especially in comparison to what the Pavilion is like. A bit of a break is more than warranted. At the reply, G'raha let's out a small huff of amusement as he regards the notebook in his lap. ]

There are pieces I will enjoy revisiting. [ Thomas, his fellow fluxers. The androids are definitely interesting, but equally unpleasant. ] I want to document our experiences here as well as I can.

[ Looking back up, he nods at the other man's book with a smile. ]

And what of you?

[catharses]

[ The mention of pieces of this gets a considering hum from Sunday. A fair appraisal since while the scenery is a welcome change, not everything in it is quite so welcome. Perhaps it's a worrying testament to the stranger things he's seen - and done, at that - that this feels like it fits right in.

Whatever pondering Sunday was about to do of that (either in thought to himself or on the pages of the journal resting in his lap) is set aside when his question is answered with - ]

That's the very thing I was planning to do myself, [ he answers without hesitation and the slightest laugh there and gone in an instant in almost a reflex as much as it is a flicker of amusement. ] One of the companions I was meant to travel with before ending up here... he was responsible for organizing the Express's data bank. To say the amount of information contained in its entries is dazzling even when I only reviewed a fraction of them would be a most severe understatement.

[ Dan Heng might've been modest about it if asked to describe it, but Sunday sees no reason to be. Impressive is far too shallow a word for what he'd felt while looking through in search of created paradises when it'd been the first thing he wanted to investigate. It's along those lines in which Sunday finds his next question. ]

It had occurred to me that I might be able to offer something about where we are by keeping a written record. Are you doing so for the same reasons?

[ Maybe not a data bank specifically but for something else if it felt important enough to do not long after arriving for someone else, too. ]

[exarched]

[ There's an easy shift in G'raha's demeanor from curious and congenial to genuinely amused. His ears perk up and his brows raise before he finds himself laughing lightly as well. Truly kindred spirits, aren't they? ]

Is that so? A never-ending job, I would imagine.

[ How often do pieces need to be reorganized and catalogued? Though the other man's reasoning has a bit of sentimental value as well. Doing a bit of work for the sake of or inspired by a comrade? That is something that G'raha can only support as well. He nods, understanding. (Or believing he does.) ]

Yes, similar reasons. I am a bit of a historian myself and have only benefited from the time and care that others have taken to catalogue their experiences. Should they not prove useful to me, they may yet to someone else.

[ A humble brag, without all the real details, but also an honest one. ]

By the by, I'm G'raha Tia.

poolside - notebook

[virtuose]

[While there were certainly quite a number of strange things about since Maelle had arrived, this was the second time she had seen someone with furry ears peeking atop their hair. Was this something far more usual in other worlds?

She stares from a distance, not too long to make herself obvious, only to notice him scribbling away instead of relaxing by the pool. Even if she had never been to a resort in the past, it was easy to see that he wasn't spending his time here like most of the other guests. What could he even be writing about in a place like this?]

Isn't there something they say about all work and no play?

[She approaches him, not quite dressed for the poolside, scarf tied around one of her suspenders and sleeves pushed above her elbows, in hopes to break the ice.]

[exarched]

[ It's a fair question given the surroundings. To be called out like this, even by a complete stranger, isn't something he can really be upset by. G'raha looks more amused, mayhaps a little sheepish at being called out, his tail doing a few flicks behind him as he shrugs. ]

I can assure you I have been having a...uniquely delightful time.

[ He glances back down at his notebook, finishing off a sentence before he clarifies. ]

Moreover, I do find this enjoyable.

[ G'raha turns the notebook out so that the red-haired girl can see--there are a few sketchy diagrams of the androids and a myriad of different notes, some pointing to different features while others appear to be more in paragraph format. ]

If these "diffusion zones" are ephemeral, then I want to make sure I do not forget what we have all seen and experienced.

androids

[alwaysme]

[She's not dressed in typical poolside clothing. Her black patchwork pants have been rolled up over her knees, held up by fasteners, and she's lost most of her extra clothing bits and bobs, only keeping her simple white tank top--though with faded streaks of neon colored paints. New clothing has been lower on her to-do list.

There's an oil streak though down her left side, balancing out the blue cloud tattoos the down her right. Her short hair's soaked down with pool water, her current method of keeping cool.

She has the air of someone who's been Up to Something, but she has no reaction to seeing a cat man. It's normal, to her.] Maybe they were the guests before we came here. I don't think it was the pool water that fried them.

[exarched]

[ G'raha glances away from the android in front of him and towards his colleague for the moment. She certainly does appear as if she is keeping busy, but with what he cannot say. Curious, though there is plenty to investigate, he wonders if she has been looking into how some of these androids were marked given the stains on her clothing. ]

Guests?

[ He turns his gaze back to the android in front of him. Bringing a hand to his chin, he considers. ]

Could this place be meant to service automations rather than living, breathing people?

forgive me the heat murdered me

[alwaysme]

Could be! We don't know much about it, right? [A laugh.] I bet you they had this nice little paradise. Drinks of oil and coolant--probably why the bartender doesn't know how to make a real drink. [Or so she's been told. She hasn't been interested in partaking.] Massaging of the joints.

no worries! stay cool, friend

[exarched]

[ It sounds like a joke--it probably is just a joke--but G'raha also doesn't think she may be entirely off base either. Mayhap drinking coolant and oil seems a little excessive, but...most of these androids do strike him more as "leisurely" in appearance. How strange.

Said joke does earn a lop-sided smile from G'raha as he moves to stand, turning his attention to his new colleague. ]

You sound as if you have experience.

[ That might also be a joke. ]

ii. icebreakers

[elriche]

[ He'd be lying if he said it wasn't the tail that got his attention.

Not that he's out-of-touch with other planes of perception while meandering around the pool bar in a distinctly dad-like getup, but even now, even with what he knows of the multiverse and its dimensional layers, a full-grown (okay, maybe "full grown" is generous) cat man in 90's pool-wear is a little hard to miss. It's not the only thing that makes him interesting – there's a weirdly concentrated magic billowing in astral wind around him – but it definitely helps him stand out, as Stephen leans against the nearby counter, trying not to seem like he's sizing up the magical affinity of the... demihuman? Alien? Feline furry? Even though he absolutely is.

Meanwhile, the cat man's entirely focused on the android bartender – also an intriguing setpiece in this otherwise grounded diffusion zone, even if it can't mix a drink worth a damn. Stephen sips on his self-conjured tropical martini, contemplating all of this when–

Pizza or tacos?

The android's looking directly at him. Then at the cat man. Well– ]

As a New Yorker, [ Stephen replies, dry, ] feel like pizza's the only answer – though I enjoy a good barbacoa.

i'm here for dad glam

[exarched]

[ Would that he had Y'shtola's sight to see into the very aether of a person! Though it be at the expense of normal vision. (He would contemplate it, certainly, but ultimately choose otherwise.) He would have a lot to consider given the aura of the man in impeccable fashion who deigned to join him. But it is likely for the best he is wholly unaware of the man's initial appraisal of him...

He is definitely full grown, thank you. All five fulms and two ilms of him.

G'raha does look interested at the other man's response, cocking his head quizzically at the mention of "New Yorker". ]

And what is a "New Yorker", if I may ask?

[ And what does it have to do with pizza? No judgment, just open curiosity. THomas seems to accept this answer and turns his gaze back to G'raha as he pours a new drink and misses the glass entirely. Ah.... ]

As for myself...I have only gotten to sample tacos recently, so it may be the novelty alone that puts them at the top of my list.

listen it's very stylish (just also very dad)

[elriche]

[ Stephen raises a brow at the – man? Kid? Although aside from certain partygoing Asgardians, pretty much everyone's a kid to him these days in terms of comparative years. ]

If you have to ask, I'm pretty sure you're from somewhere it's irrelevant. [ There's a lightness to his words, a lack of judgment from a man used to the rules of a multiverse where ubiquitous knowledge in one world might be completely absent in another. He wasn't going to elaborate, but he catches a pointed interest in the cat man's eyes – a kind of curiosity both reminiscent and wholly different from the other Strange he'd run into soon after his arrival. ] Means I'm from a city with a lot of skyscrapers. And tacos, actually – wait. [ He narrows his eyes and cracks a disbelieving smile, ] you'd never had tacos?

icebreaker + a lil bit of wildcard for assumptions ;

[diplomatiste]

[ It seemed only natural that the Scions currently known and stationed in this world arrive at the diffusion zone together, and Alphinaud doesn't hesitate to escort the Exarch. If solo investigations needs doing, they can divvy up the task then, but at the moment there appears to be little urgency.

Besides, given his own current lack of a vehicle (thank you, dear sister), Alphinaud might have required a ride. And to a lesser degree, he still ... worries a little about the Exarch. Best to keep a subtle eye on things.

The droid's interruption, however, quite catches him off-guard. ]

Sorry? An ... unimportant opinion?

[ Oh, if only Alphinaud knew the term 'hot take'. ]

I suppose I'd have to think on that one. [ He turns quickly to G'raha, as though they have some time limit they must fulfill their answers in between. ] What do you think?

[exarched]

[ Yes, lack of vehicle...G'raha had heard what happened to Alphinaud's and, hm, he gently suggested that G'raha himself remain the driver for now. A role he is happy to play if they need to go anywhere. (Nevermind that he sees the debt as a group effort. Paying off that vehicle will have to be their secondary priority after dealing with their...lackluster lodgings.)

This is their first diffusion zone and it serves to reason that they should all investigate it while it remains. And he does feel a bit like the twins are his responsibility. Capable though they are, and technically his seniors as Scions, they are still young and their timeline might need to be preserved. All important things to keep in mind.

Thomas is a curious automation, though G'raha finds himself equally surprised by the question. "Icebreaker", indeed. ]

Hm...

[ G'raha takes a moment, bringing a hand to his chin as he considers. ]

Though it may only be contentious amongst our comrades, I would argue that the Archon Loaf is as tasty as it is filling.

[ Surely Alphinaud agrees! ]

[diplomatiste]

Oh! Is that what he means by an unimportant opinion?

[ Alphinaud chuckles now. ]

I'll admit that's a rather good one. Many a slice of Archon Loaf held me at bay during those late night hours at the Studium, finalizing essays — though I find I cannot quite agree on its taste any longer.

[ There is a very high probability that much time spent on Eorzea, and having Tataru as the Scions' director of hospitality has since opened his eyes to more than just the standard fare of Sharlayan cuisine. (And this is in addition to the menu at the Last Stand.)

Still, he sounds downright wistful, remembering his time at school fondly. ]

In fact, I daresay that is my chosen unimportant opinion. I enjoyed those late, late nights, buried in books and parchment, fingers covered in ink. The exhaustion that comes from finishing a well written report is incomparable.

[ He clears his throat. ]

Pray do not mention this to Alisaie.

[ She'll only tease him about it. ]