Mechanolatric Coordination
In the middle of December, as Christmas preparations occurred, came an Architectural sense of mutability, a shift of the atmosphere, as if someone had changed destiny's state of matter into a more fluid one: everything was malleable and yet serenely slow to compensate for it, almost like molasses.
Then, as if a switch were returned to its default zero state, it passed.
As Solomon had never experienced such an occurrence, he sought answers from the Educator during their next remedial class - only to find Penelope also sitting in the man's office, angel wings tucked almost embarrassedly behind her.
"Hey, Sol," she only said with a faint wave of the hand, as he stared at her mutedly.
"Despite the immense risks to sanity and cognition undertaken in attempting Architectural accession without guidance, I must congratulate you both!" the Educator chirped, hands steepled. "I've never, ever seen anything like this! Be proud, you are well-educated."
Then, as if nothing at all were wrong or new, the Educator immediately launched into a verbose explanation of the basic rudiments, simultaneously also teaching Solomon a completely new, more advanced topic regarding the number twenty-two and its significance with a separate voice, as Penelope struggled to catch up. Throughout the remedial lesson, Solomon found himself constantly distracted by Penelope's attentive mien and occasional questioning articulation. As if nothing were wrong. As if this were simply any normal Enrollment class. Her new status as a fellow seer was Architecturally clear to him: like an astral badge shining outwards from her heart.
Once they were outside, Solomon cornered Penelope with a frustrated expression.
"Alright. Now, I have to ask - what the fuck are you doing, learning the secret structure of the universe out of nowhere? How did you even manage to do it? I'm not talkative, but I'm fairly damn sure I'd mentioned at some point this shit's beyond dangerous."
"I invested into Truthseeker as you advised, along with the helpful use of a couple of artifacts," she answered primly. "Then experimented. I don't intend to sit down and rest on my laurels simply because of our attainment on Pangothica, especially not with the dangers to which I was so recently oblivious."
There was something else, unstated, but Solomon's instinct promised that pressing her on this was a terrible idea. Instead, he directed his attention to her earlier words, letting out a sigh of annoyance. "So you're an Architecturalist? Just like that?"
"Yes," she said. "Just like that."
His stone-hard stare, full of accusation, continued to mercilessly bore into her. An eyebrow elevated as Penelope remarked, "You don't seem very happy."
"Yeah, I'm a tad annoyed that I've had to contend with this damn fucking prediction Cassandra-bullshit curse my entire life, only to recently start turning it into something even vaguely resembling a blessing - and you get to conveniently skip all the steps and reap the superpowers. It sucks."
"Well, don't be mad at me," she contended, as if upset at him being upset. "Be mad at whatever douchebag cosmic force made things this way."
"Be mad at the universe," he stated blankly.
"Yeah." She offered him a heart-brightening smile, a radiant expression conferring soulful and profound sympathy with a cheerful outlook; one that made even the cloud of anger and unfairness dissipate. "Look on the bright side, misery loves company! I did this entire thing so I could know what it's like to see things the way you do, Sol."
"It won't be especially miserable for you now that you've started learning," he answered, still a mote unsatisfied with the unfairness of the entire matter - even if he realized, on an intellectual level, this was a dumb feeling to have. "I only ever suffered because it came naturally to me. Too naturally..."
It never would've been a problem for her, since Penelope established a firm pattern of downright rebuking destiny and its myriad proclamations. A fate written absolutely in stone, she could effortlessly scrub off, like writing faded from a palimpsest. No effort could the Architecture spare in attempting to lash her to its designs, only to fail each time. She didn't care about God's immaculate blueprint and substituted it with her own, casting aside a marble sculptor's masterpiece to profoundly display a crayon drawing instead. And she made it work, as well, somehow - the crayons miraculously eliciting deep sorrowful emotion in art critics from across the world, to complete the metaphor.
For a moment, the ridiculousness started to sink in. Solomon found himself mildly enamored and lost in that pattern of defiant victories, the abundant snarls she flippantly left behind in the kismet-fabric of the universe, like a woman scattering anomalous stars over the heavens.
Before him stood an anomaly. The central coordinate of some vast, incomprehensible skein. A dread being that defied heaven's authority with every act.
He shivered a little.
"You alright? Not scaring you off with my searing brilliance, am I, Sol? I realize it can be a lot to take in." Her raised eyebrow now curved with catlike amusement, an uncharacteristic and unsettling emotion. He considered the terrifying degree of agency she possessed, relative to his own meager will. If she only desired it, could she not end Solomon where he stood with one Edict? Or render him a pliant toy throughout a single well-structured conversation, as he once might've been able to do to their peers? A single crucial observation with those Truthseeking eyes of hers could've collapsed any universe where he didn't simply become an orbiter of heroic gravity.
His silence amplified Penelope's worries. Her easygoing temperance disappeared, concerns surfacing like storm clouds.
"Solomon?"
"I was only considering..." he said, the words slow and hesitant to come out, like moles out of their subterranean nooks, eyes staring into her as if to locate the source of that effulgent resistance to the universal order, "You're, like, not a human being, right?"
"That's... huh?"
"I mean, what are the odds? I'm a cosmic anomaly as I am," he explained, words starting to flow now; not like water from a faucet, but more as a river did, the onrushing torrent full of pressure that demanded a forward vector; ideas coming faster than lips could release them. "Something that doesn't fit into the scheme, a puzzle piece that doesn't go anywhere. What are you, then? Even when you couldn't sense it, you've defied the Architecture thrice now, that I know. Have you been doing this your entire life? Casting snarls and shadows over the entire damn thing? Once was an anomaly, twice was a freak of nature, this is... now you can see it? What are you? Seriously?"
Once his soliloquy was finished, Penelope offered him a more somber look. Her expression was cast down, contemplative, eyes moving with slow understanding, as if connecting physical dots. She was clearly ruminating over the words he said. Finally, she said:
"I'm your friend," she said. For the couple of months he'd started getting to know Penelope, this was the most sincere she'd ever sounded. There was a conviction to her words, now. "I never had real friends, except arguably my family. I don't think you did either. But I think you and I are similar and care about a lot of similar things. Deep down, we really want to help the people around us, those we care about. And we want to make the world a better place. I don't have any idea what kind of freak anomaly I am, but I'm one that cares about you, Sol. If you think there's something dangerous about me, I hope you could help me find out what it is."
He stared for a time, uncertain how to answer. His heart clenched once more with soul-crushing guilt at her decisive proclamation of improving the world together, such a cheesy line spoken with such utter conviction it looped back around to a casual statement. It felt so oddly confidential, a spilling of the heart and mind to another. Even back when he could essentially read people's minds from the vaguest of environmental clues, no conversation had connected him so deeply with another human being.
He wanted to say so much. Tell her she was wrong. That he was a coward who'd rather stay in his shell.
He failed the test of courage and simply nodded instead, dispelling the last of the nervous doldrums. "Thank you, Penny. I feel... similar."
She offered him a smile. "Merry Christmas, Sol... speaking of which, we should really go down and help the others with the preparations."
"Right," he saliently agreed. "I guess we should."
---
Here are some of your earlier Christmas ideas:
*Collaborate with Samantha helping her make gifts for the class and the Educator.
*Finish removing the curse from the Liminal Ox and transform it into the Ox-Headed Sphinx of the Chariot with your Potioncraft, summonable and bound as a familiar to Harrison, tied to his Thematics with Connections.
*For the Educator's gift bring up the following idea to Samantha. Should she be on board, perhaps a tapestry embroidered with the Tree of Life with all the Tarot Roles in their paths. Threads that glint with the flow of energy once activated. Inspired from the pocket watch Solomon saw the Educator use in the trip. Enchanted with Connections so that the Educator can tap his Thematics into it to power it for an easier visual to see how the Roles are progressing and as a report card.
Consider Harrison and the Educator's Gifts as done.
Now, assign two (2) other Gifts to your other closest friends and confidantes, giving a smorgasbord of less powerful or varied items to everyone else in Class. If nothing is written in, Solomon will automatically gift narratively appropriate items/services:
[ ] Penelope: [Write-in]
[ ] Damien: [Write-in]
[ ] Write-in (assign a Gift to someone else)
How do you feel about Penelope?
[ ] Reassured - You're friends and she's not some evil mastermind. There's no reason to overcomplicate matters.
[ ] Guilt-Ridden - She's got the wrong idea about you. Endeavor to change that in the future.
[ ] Terrified - If she can defy the Architecture on a whim, she can probably also kill you on a whim.
[ ] Terrified, But Vaguely Turned On - If she can defy the Architecture on a whim, she can probably also kill you on a whim... but that's kind of hot? (Only available because you almost rolled a 69.)
The next update is Christmas revelry.
