Scene #9367: This is Tomorrow IV-I

Owner	Pose
Timekeeper	> They reach into a side pouch on Regulus's backpack, but-- after a couple of seconds of searching, "Listen to me and don't say anything." Vertin's voice is breathed out low, without a flicker of their eyes towards Regulus or any hint of being distracted from their apparent search. They surreptitiously palm a pink glass orb into the pocket that they were searching, tapping it lightly to bring Regulus's attention to it. "Take this Misty Bubble Ball and run to the west. I'll catch up to you soon. I mean you no harm, trust me." "Now if you understand, push me." "Go, Sonetto, now. Take the others with you." "Come here! To me, quickly!" "I said that there are risks I won't take on someone else's behalf." Vertin's shoes splash in the paint-colored rain in the streets. After White teleports her down, she's immediately off running with one hand holding the hat to her head and the other clutching the suitcase and records. Of course, Vertin knows better than to trust that Regulus ran in the direction they instructed-- the alchemical traces of the Misty Bubble Ball are something that Vertin can follow by her own perception, whether or not Regulus actually wanted to be followed. It doesn't take long to catch up, not only because Regulus's leg is still injured. Where could Regulus even go? The rain pours upwards in a technicolor torrent, washing away buildings in disintegrating particles. Her favorite cafe and hideaway, luckily nearby, is a color smear on a three-dimensional canvas, and the people in the windows are unravelling like peeled fruit while calmly sipping tea. Vertin dashes with a haste never seen out of them before, dropping the suitcast to the ground where it clatters open, and roughly grabbing Regulus by the shoulder. "Enough! No more running! I'm not like the Foundation; I'm here to protect you!" And then, as the world is washed away into the sky, Vertin shoves Regulus down into the open suitcase with only a rectangle of the technicolor sky visible above them.
Regulus	MOMENTS EARLIER Regulus hobbles towards the cafe, a smile on her lips. Was that the 'Vertin' she had been told about, she wonders, who gave her an out? But it seemed like she was also kind of ... in charge to some extent? Ugh, whatever. She just wants to get a doctor pepper and hide in a hole somewhere until tommorow. But-- --she checks her watch. She isn't sure on the exact timing but ''Nothingness'' should have arrived by now. When she looks back up she startles and stumbles backward. The rain is floating upward. People are unraveling before her very eyes and they aren't even noticing. "They don't even see it..." She marvels. Is she really going to die, she thinks. She thought she'd be more upset by it. She supposes she at least stuck to her convictions, but ... if they were really so earnest, would it have been so bad to take someone's hand? She hears a clatter behind her but she pays little mind to it, staring at the impossible sight before her until-- ''Enough! No more running!'' "Ah--sorry, Miss Timekeeper, right? Thanks for looking after my records but I don't even have--" ''I'm not like the Foundation. I'm here to protect you!'' "Huh?" Regulus manages before-- --she tumbles down into the suitcase. From within she stares, mouth hanging open as the world disintegrates behind Vertin. Words fail her-- And then... "...I don't get it... He said it was 'Nothingness'. she said it was a storm." Regulus manages, she turns to look at her own arms but-- --they're still there. They haven't ripped themselves apart or melted. They're just arms like they're supposed to be. She removes her sunglasses with a shaking hand, her hat has fallen out beside her. APPLe wiggles out of the backpack and pokes his head out with a quiet 'my word'. They're both positively drenched and, frankly, a bit pathetic. Regulus looks not unlike an abandoned stray left behind in, well, a suitcase. Tears are in her eyes but she's frankly too dumbfounded to weep properly. "What happened...?"
Timekeeper	Vertin is unresponsible to Regulus for several long seconds, while the earth steadily erupts into the blinding absence above it. She closes her eyes and sighs, shaky and ragged, with her hand tightening on Regulus's shoulder. Eventually, they open their eyes back up, and look directly into Regulus's with an intense stare. "... It's alright. It's just the end of an era. And you survived." "Come with me, into the suitcase. I will tell you, but not here." Vertin murmurs an incantation in a language Regulus doesn't understand, and the starry interior of the suitcase shifts to rearrange itself into the outline of a staircase leading down. Vertin takes Regulus's hand, and leads the shellshocked girl down into the dark passageway. It continues for some time, with Vertin not saying anything the whole way down. The dizzying light and color of the end of 1966 is gone, replaced with a darkness so complete that Regulus can barely tell the difference between having her eyes open and closed, and a silence so profound that this could, believably, be what comes after the end of the world-- the 'nothingness' she was told about. But eventually, Vertin's hand brushes against a doorknob, and the entry into her manor opens. Beside the distinguished dark wood and comforting spread of house plants and decor, the wall-to-wall windows of the sunroom are streaking with raindrops that draw upwards rather than down. A nixie tube clock in the corner blinks on 0 0 : 0 0. Vertin gently lays down the damp t-shirt over the back of a chair, and spreads the records across a polished wooden table, with her fingers splayed around a raindrop that stained the album cover of the Rolling Stones. "... Thank you for allowing me to salvage some of your records. John Lennon, The Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix... you have quite the taste in music." Vertin turns around to face Regulus, one hand still resting on the table. "This is a safe place. An 'ark' in the Storm. No one can follow us here, so we can talk freely. I am Vertin, the Timekeeper of the St. Pavlov Foundation. What you just witnessed was the 'Storm' that ended your era-- that brought about the end of 1966, and the beginning of what comes next."
Regulus	Well. It's not as if Regulus has anywhere else to go. "Into the suitcase...?" Regulus asks. But one incantation later, and it's made clear what she means. She doesn't recognize the incantation but Regulus isn't really thinking about that right now. It's also a kind of arcane tool she'd normally be fascinated with studying but she isn't really thinking about that right now either. Instead, she's led down the stairs easily. She misses a step and nearly tumbles into Vertin, but she's nimble and catches her balance before she tumbles. Is everything really gone, Regulus wonders, and if this is nothingness was there even a point to-- --no, she called it the end of an era. ''An'' era. Not of all time. Are they outside time, then, she wonders distantly but then the door opens and... It's actually cozy looking??--The rain is still going up but Regulus says, "You even saved the t-shirt..." She says breathlessly. "Do you collect stuff like that?" ''You have quite the taste in music.'' "Ah!" That restores some of Regulus's nature to her. She smiles because The Storm didn't take her love for music away. "Well, John Lennon's great don't get me wrong. Sure the Beatles will be famous someday, but Jimi Hendrix is my favorite. He hasn't put much out yet but he's got a long career--" She realizes something. "Oh... This might be all that exists of their music, actually. They won't be able to make music like that again, huh?... It's really really good you were able to save them. Otherwise their voice would've been lost forever." "But I didn't know you were a fan too! Where'd you first hear them?" Regulus asks. ''I am Vertin, the Timekeeper of the St. Pavlov Foundation.'' "I was told to look for you but I didn't know who 'Vertin' was," Regulus admits. "Come to think of it I don't know who told me that. The one with the webbing?" ''That brought about the end of 1966, and the beginning of what comes next.'' "But... it's not December..." Regulus is missing some key details. "Wait so it's a 'The Storm' not a--like proper noun Storm..." She sighs. "If I still had my record player we could put some on..." Mr. APPLe finally speaks up, "That clock there ... Is that how you were able to predict this Storm?" He bobs generally in the direction of the nixie tube clock.
Timekeeper	"Do you collect stuff like that?" It's all over the place, actually. Literature only takes up a quarter of the ample shelving space in this room-- there's art, statues, cheap souvenirs and important-looking jewelry and objects alike, even just handwritten letters stacked and framed, along with other records. One of them, Vertin points out at Regulus's next question: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, a Beatles album that Regulus has never seen before, nestled among an eclectic mix of music of all genres, and small plastic cases that look like records but are clearly too small. "I first heard rock and roll in the era of 1970, four years ago. But... you are right, that what records exist in this suitcase are most of what remains of their music. That is why I collect these things." Vertin turns her head to look down at the wrinkled-up GROOVY design on the drying t-shirt. "Even this t-shirt... it has value to you, doesn't it? That's why I couldn't bear to see it taken away by the Storm." "But... it's not December..." And now, the time to fully explain the state of the world finally arrives. There are Foundation guidelines to how to go about doing this-- after all, every era involves briefing dozens or even hundreds of new employees and recruits on the Storm, usually clumped together in a lecture hall. Vertin, though, doesn't follow those guidelines, not today. It's impossible to tell from the steadiness of their voice, but their heart is still pounding dizzyingly fast. Instead, Vertin turns to the wall of pictures behind them, covered with photos of people Regulus has never seen before. "These people... they're from eras long past, or a long time to come. This is Ida Derman. I met her at a harbor in Portugal. She was hoping to emigrate to America before war broke out, and was raising money singing with a voice like I'd never heard before. This is Marion Smith, a single mother. She worried every night whether she could afford to feed her children, but she never gave up on her dream of being a writer. This is Gordon, who lived in Manchester. He sold and maintained bikes for a living, and he was hoping and training every day to have a chance to participate in the 1968 Olympic games." Vertin's hand drops back to their side. "Each of them are now taken by the Storm. The time of our world no longer progresses forwards, Regulus. On the last day before the millennium, December 31st, 1999, time reversed. Ever since, each era begins and ends with a Storm that has been gradually rewinding time, erasing all the progress and memories that mankind has made." "You could see it, Regulus. The end of the world. Everyone going mad. That is why I wished to save you, to see if you could brave the Storm with me in this suitcase." Vertin takes a breath that raises and lowers their shoulders, and then tilts their chin down, hand over the brooch of her ascot. "I want to see an end to the Storm. That is what the Foundation is working towards as well. But I... I want to see the people saved from it, so that their lives, their stories, can continue onwards. So please, if you cannot trust the Foundation, at least trust in me."
Regulus	Regulus says, "No way... That album--" There's no way Regulus would have MISSED a Beatles album coming out. If she hadn't seen the end of time with her own hands, she'd assume it was a fake. Right now she's not sure what to think. "Hold on, you first heard of rock and roll in 1970? ''Four years ago''." Regulus is distracted from pressing further when the t-shirt is poined out. "W..well it's a style that's gaining in popularity, I'm more into ''mod'' myself but...Yeah even the t-shirt. And the albums moreso. I saw you, you know, protecting them from the rain. Water can really damage vinyl." She's having trouble not getting pulled into her passion "So they made it big after all... But you've got good taste...!" It's easier to focus on that then losing her home. Admittedly, Regulus was someone living on the open sea and constantly on the run from society, but that doesn't mean she didn't have friends and she did consider London home, home enough that she was highly resistant to abandoning it! But she looks at those photos. "You've been to a lot of places, a lot of times..." If Vertin hadn't shoved her in the suitcase-- --would that shirt of hers be on display? She shudders, visibly. She has to be a strong pirate again but she'll get there in a moment. "Why me?" Regulus asks. "Why not ... Ida Derman?" But she senses no deceit from Vertin. Not even a little bit. And she does trust her. Maybe she should've trusted more than just her, but right now she trusts Vertin. ''So please, if you cannot trust the Foundation, at least trust in me.'' Regulus breathes in, heavier than before, staring into Vertin's eyes, shades set aside. She smooths out her miniskirt and shakes out her miniskirt and her jacket and approaches Vertin. "I said I didn't want to work for the Foundation..." She takes another breath, steadying herself. This poor girl is frightened, she thinks. She can waste time feeling sorry for herself on her own time, right now she wants to... "But trusting you... That sounds like a fab idea to me, Vertin!" Regulus is a hugger. If Vertin doesn't stop her, she's going to give Vertin a BIG OLD HUG. "You can trust in this pirate too, alright? 'Sides I owe you, saving my life and all!"
Timekeeper	"So they made it big after all..." "They did." Vertin nods simply, but there's something soothing enough about Regulus's excitement that a faint smile, or at least less-tightness, tugs at their lips. There'll be time to get into the details of the future later, though. Even though most of the music of the era that Regulus knows has just vanished, there's a record player here in the sunroom and some records that Regulus has never seen before, and that will be a welcome way to spend one of the many strange and stressful days coming up. "Why not ... Ida Derman?" "I tried. She stood where you are now." Vertin says it without a shift in their voice, so subtly unobtrusive that the meaning of it registers on a delay. "Before you, I'd tried many experiments, trying to see who I could save and who I could not. I wasn't certain you could be until only just now." Vertin paces around the table, drawing closer to Regulus. "Ida was a human. So were the others I tried to save, in other eras. The suitcase can preserve objects, food, books, records... and arcanists, it seems. I'm glad. I'm glad I can do that, at least." "So that is our situation, Regulus. Thank you for helping me with my experiment. And now, even though your era has ending, life is only just beginning to change." Vertin folds their arms across their chest, tilting the brim of their hat down and leaning against the wall to look at Regulus with a serious expression. "To be entirely forthright, my actions have made you a pawn in a game that you were never informed of. The Foundation is a massive organization, full of political influences pulling in every direction, and my fate, and now yours, is inextricably tied to it. Currently, the Foundation Headquarters is the only known location immune to the Storm. Your survival here changed that, forever, and that means the bigwigs will be interested into you." "If that frightens you, then you still have an option: you can still opt out, live on, as a simple employee of the Foundation, and survive the Storm along with the rest of them. No one will have a reason to hassle you then. But if you still don't want to, then...." Vertin tilts their chin up, with multicolored raindrops soaked into the underside of the brim of their hat. "...I would love if you continued to sail through the Storm on this 'ship', with me instead. I will keep you safe. I promise." "But trusting you... That sounds like a fab idea to me, Vertin!" When suddenly hugged, Vertin makes a tiny noise of surprise, higher-pitched and squeakier than her voice and demeanor would imply could come out of her. They clumsily pat Regulus on the back, hat pushed up at an awkward angle, but they don't push Regulus away. They just kind of come across as extremely bad at hugging. "That makes me happy to hear. There's much more to discuss, but... if you're comfortable committing, then I believe we have a meeting we ought to be getting to."
Regulus	Regulus marvels at the record player. The sunroom. That it's raining in a suitcase somehow, though none of this is really that shocking compared to the rest of the day. Regulus is a glass half full type of person even if she will 'happily' bemoan her poor fortune when given the opportunity. It's hard for her to say she had a good turn of luck just because she survived, though undoubtedly the fact that she just so happened to steal something that the Foundation wanted and just so happened to be an arcanist and just so happened to be shoved into a suitcase that just so happened to provide some kind of resilience to the 'Nothingness' destroying the world. WEll, that is certainly lucky. But... "I guess that makes you and I pioneers, Vertin!" She seems determined to keep up that chipper state. "Though I didn't exactly volunteer, I'm glad it worked out!" She listens carefully to the rest. Even Regulus can be serious when a world ends. And she cares enough about 'the world' to make it a better place. Despite everything, it's a weirdly nice feeling knowing that her obstinance helped in some small way even if it wasn't by her own design. ''If that frightens you...'' "I wouldn't be much of a pirate if I cowered before some stuffy bureaucrats!" Regulus says, wondering why her leg is aching and feeling tired. "Besides, I said it. I trust ''You'', Vertin. I'm happy to be a part of your crew. If we sink, we'll sink together, alright?" ''Squeaks!!'' "Ah! Sorry, sorry..." Regulus's cheeks pinken faintly. "I'm a hugger. Plus it seemed...appropriate to hug someone who risked her neck to save you?" It hasn't really hit that Vertin can stay outside in The Storm yet. Maybe she figures she was close enough to the suitcase? But she's more talking about risking her neck with the Foundation. ''I believe we have a meeting we ought to be getting to.'' "Meeting...?" Regulus says, with dread. "Ah--no, I already said I'd sail the waters. If the sea is a boardroom I'll just... figure out how to continue that metaphor! But uh--" She looks down at herself. She's wet. She realizes her leg is still bleeding (she had forgotten!), and she's a total mess. "Maybe I ought to clean up first? And bandage up?]"