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Ch 20, SVacation: Space Vacation

--procedure's ability to take place even while he was actively attentive cognizant of his surroundings.

The next thought came out of Logan's mouth as words. "Wait a minute."

Although his train of thought felt completely uninterrupted, Logan could tell that there had been an active disruption, and not just because he was no longer in the familiar Corpus Verto clinic which he had occupied what felt like a split second earlier. A familiar voice greeted him, however. "Hello, Logan Bradshaw. Per your request, I am waiting. May I ask for what?"

Turning, Logan saw that TIBOR was there with him-- only the android was slightly different. Rather than wearing the medical scrubs and doctor's coat that he'd had on each time the young man saw him, TIBOR instead had a pure white robe with a gilded, tasseled belt around his waist. The android also had a large set of ivory-colored, feathery wings adorning his back, and a glowing golden corona of blazing around his head. Rather than answer the android's question, he had one of his own. "What's going on, TIBOR?"

TIBOR offered a pleasant smile and spoke with an almost ephemeral voice with a distinct but non-specific European accent. "Here, I am known as TIBORael, the angelic being guiding all adventurers back to the land of the living."

Logan stared. "Huh?"

The expression left TIBORael's face and the pious non-verbal cues were surrendered, returning the android back into his passive, neutral pose. "Welcome to Ozar's Realm, Mister Bradshaw. You are currently within 'The Temple', known more colloquially as the Corpus Verto clinic. Within the Ozar's Realm habitat, all residents, staff, and visitors are expected to conduct themselves in character, also known as 'I.C.' during their stay. There are several exceptions to this rule, including within 'The Temple', especially for first time visitors."

The young man mostly registered what the android was saying, but he was still caught up on the nomenclature. "Why 'The Temple', and why are you dressed like an angel?"

TIBORael's posture resumed its prior iconographic pose including his palms placed against one another at sternum height and a slight tilt of his head, providing an even greater illumination from his 'halo'. "The term, Logan, is 'Celestial'. I, TIBORael am the Celestial devoted to guiding those freshly risen within The Temple and helping them start or resume their adventure in Ozar's Realm. This is a magical world where death need not be permanent and, as a Chosen, you transcend mortality so that even lethal blows will do no more than slow down your quests. As this is your first time in Ozar's Realm, perhaps you would like a tutorial?"

Considering all of his confusion, Logan considered the answer to be self-evident. "Yes."

The next ten minutes were spent with Logan still dizzy and confused as TIBORael began explaining Ozar's Realm with flowery language and narrative rather than providing anything direct and useful. Only once the young man realized that he wasn't going to be able to follow what the android was saying with all the 'fluff' added did he bother interrupting. "Can you maybe just... catch me up on everything without the whole 'IC' narrative thing?"

TIBORael's posture again returned to neutral. "Of course, Logan. You currently reside in a borrowed Corpus created specifically for the purpose of experiencing Ozar's Realm. While this Corpus is, in all ways reminiscent of a Human body the Corpus is properly upgraded with the necessary components to maximize your ability to take part in as many activities on Ozar's Realm as you like. This includes experiencing combat, engaging in interpersonal interaction with staff or other guests, perceiving magical effects, safely ingesting--"

"Wait. Magic?"

Logan's interjection caused Tibor to pause, but he continued once it was obvious that the young man wasn't about to elaborate. "Correct, Mr. Bradshaw. While 'magic' in a fantasy and fanciful manner is not possible, Ozar's Realm uses a combination of practical effects and implant-driven sensory modification methodologies to create the impression of spell casting and spell effects. Ozar's Realm is a fully immersive experience. You will not have to worry about casting magic spells yourself as you signed up for an introductory package stay, meaning your Corpus is non-magical, moderate skill-level Human."

The young man smirked. "You mean Trans-human, right?"

TIBORael shook his head. "Incorrect. For the purpose of interacting with Ozar's Realm, you are considered a Human. Other Transhumans present may represent other races including Beastfolk, Dwarfolk, Elfolk, Gobinfolk, Lizardfolk, Shortfolk, and Celestials. While all staff and visitors are Transhumans occupying a Corpus, for the purpose of interaction within Ozar's Realm, individuals are referenced by their Corpus race... thus, you are a Human."

He caught that much, but that didn't completely answer his question. "But... you said something about magic?"

TIBORael offered a succinct nod. "That is correct. Ozar's Realm makes copious use of sensory alteration and cognition modification programs. The implants found in every Corpus in this habitat are equipped with the capacity to make intense changes to a Sum's perception of the world."

Logan remembered Star telling him about how implants could give someone the sensation of being drunk or high so he presumed that TIBORael meant something to that effect. "Okay... I guess that makes sense... so it can make someone hallucinate or something?"

The android blinked passively. "There are 'safe zones' in Ozar's Realm where magic and violence are not permitted. Magic can still be used if both parties are willing. If you wish, I can provide you an example."

The young man let that thought sink in. "You're... going to show me magic?"

TIBORael continued staring. "Not real magic, Logan, no. As a Celestial I have the capacity to use a wide variety of spells, though this is not normally part of my normal operating procedure. I can, however, cast a number of spells to provide you the experience of seeing how they interact with the world and how your implant helps you perceive them. Do I have your consent to utilize spells in your presence and on your person?"

Logan was a little excited by the prospect, but also felt the light tug of trepidation; would it be hoaky? "Okay... I guess."

Nodding simply, TIBORael turned away from Logan and toward the wall then made several gestures with both hands; the young man was taken aback when he saw glowing runes left in the air as the android's fingers passed through it. Small sparks began to fall away from TIBOR's palms and the android spoke. "From the highest cliffs of the sun soaked rocks of the Celestial Peak I call forth: Scorching Light."

Covering his face against a sudden, blazing light, Logan felt his skin grow warm and smelled the scent of scorched metal. A huge blast of super-heated wind buffeted the front of his body and, as quickly as it had manifested, the sensation was gone. Still seated on the Corpus Verto slab, Logan was astounded by what he'd experienced, especially since TIBORael had faced away from him and toward the corner of the room. The young man gasped when he looked at the android's target and saw that the walls and floor were still glowing red hot. "Holy fuck!"

TIBORael spoke as if he hadn't heard Logan's expletive. "All casters have a different technique for spells. While Scorching Light is available to some magic users, others might use Hell Fire, Fireball, or Flame Lick. The end result, as you have now experienced, can be quite dynamic."

The obvious question came right out of his mouth. "Isn't that dangerous?"

The android responded blandly. "It is not."

Logan, focused on the scorched corner of the room, hopped off of the padded table but, rather than standing up, his legs buckled and he fell toward the ground with a cry of surprise and alarm. The weight suddenly left him, however, as TIBORael held a hand out; Logan had completely missed what it was the android had said, and yet, the young man found himself floating in the air, feet just barely scraping the ground. "What the heck?!"

TIBORael faced him, face neutral except for what looked like an artistic interpretation of a concerned expression presented for his benefit. "Your records indicate that this is your first time in a Corpus which is different than your original body. It may take some time to acclimate to it. Please be careful and do not expect a seamless transition. Most visitors may spend the first hour or two becoming familiar with their Ozar's Realm Corpus."

Not only concerned about his Corpus 'acting different', Logan's attention was also split as he attempted to assess exactly what had happened. "Was... that another spell?"

The android confirmed his suspicion. "Correct. While you may believe that you are floating, I can confirm that you are not. Your implant provides you false sensory input but, at the same time, your body is responding to the spell via programming within your implant, allowing it to stand even though your Sum is not yet in full control. Perhaps you would like to open your implant's tutorial mode? Click here for more information."

Despite TIBORael speaking like some 21st century video game character about a tutorial screen button, Logan was surprised when one such object appeared in the upper right of his vision. He spoke up without even thinking "This is just like a VR game!"

TIBORael didn't miss a beat. "There are numerous differences between Ozar's Realm and a Virtual Reality game, Mr. Bradshaw. More accurately, it is more analogous to location-based mixed-or-augmented reality experiences of your time in the 22nd century... but you are welcome to focus on the similarities if it helps you acclimatize."

Logan stared at the android; apparently he knew his stuff. "Those were in the bigger cities and cost a lot... I never really went to any of those."

The android countered his statement. "Be that as it may, Mr. Bradshaw, you are getting your first experience now."

TIBORael as he was identified by Logan's implant gave him a brief farewell and encouraged him to stay in the safe zones while he learns specifics; the android/Celestial then excused itself as it had more 'adventurers to revive' and, with that 'in character' statement, immediately reverted to its role of Celestial Servant of The Temple, leaving Logan to his own devices, and the care of his implant.

It turned out to be dramatically different than the one he had back in his normal Corpus in a number of ways-- not the least of which being that it actively spoke in his mind. It sounded like a Hollywood version of a medieval storyteller. "Welcome to Ozar's Realm, My Lord. I shall be your humble guide as you journey through this world of wonder."

Not exactly sure how he activated that specific mode, Logan slowly began to walk around the clinic/temple, making sure that he was focused on each determined movement with purpose. Once he was confident that he was getting the hang of his new Corpus, Logan addressed his implant, wondering if it had some kind of player HUD or system that could help him navigate Ozar's Realm... like in a video game, or maybe like the Lunar Spire had.

It complied. "Of course, my Lord. Your wish becomes my desire."

A very 'gamefied' HUD appeared, providing him all sorts of details that he only paid passing attention to, choosing instead to focus on-- no, his attention went straight to a word at the corner of his vision. "Float?"

The implant elaborated. "You are currently under the effects of a Float spell, my Lord. Granted to you by the divine Celestial TIBORael, you will not leave tracks, are able to freely cross bodies of water without sinking, and will not set off weight-based traps. One hundred and eighty nine seconds remain on this effect."

A thousand thoughts went through Logan's mind about the apparent spell effect, not the least of which being whether or not he could REALLY walk on water, but he chastised himself, reasoning that he had to get a grip and stop his brain from running wild. His implant piped up "Although you have yet to select a class, you do have access to the FOCUS skill. Shall I activate it for you, my Lord?"

More than a little curious, Logan gave in. "Okay."

The next three minutes were the clearest, most direct moments of thought in the young man's entire life. His train of thought normally derailed regularly, especially when he was in a confusing situation but, for those 180 seconds, he had the opportunity to work through all of the numerous topics his brain wanted to take on at once, only he handled them in rapid succession instead; it was incredibly efficient! In that time, Logan managed to calm down and gain a new perspective. He wasn't even surprised as, passing from the atrium of 'The Temple' into a long hallway, a 'splash screen' super imposed itself over his vision, clearly announcing that he had entered into Ozar's Realm.

His implant further enforced the greeting with one of its own. "Welcome, brave adventurer, to your first taste of a place of fancy and fantasy, of sword and sorcery, where the focus of your tale is in your own hands. What awaits? That has yet to be decided, but, from here onward, you guide your journey with every step you take and every decision you make. Welcome to Ozar's Realm."

The entire thing sounded and felt scripted, and had the same feel as some of the old VR games he used to play. While his initial reaction was one of surprise, it was more at his own lack of alarm or discomfort at fantasy invading the 'real world' but, even as he assessed his own response, Logan realized what it was: he'd experienced a lot weirder in the past week and, if it came to a real life video game, that felt a lot more 'normal' than his other encounters, so he elected to just roll with it.

Facing a hallway with no signs, however, Logan was at a bit of an impasse. He realized based on the popups he was receiving as he went from one area to the next that he was getting notifications of the names of the regions in which he found himself but what he really needed at that moment was some kind of way to get his bearings. Directions would be nice, or perhaps even--

His implant piped up "For you, oh grand adventurer: a map of the realm."

Just as if he'd pulled one up in one of his visor games, a 'game map' appeared superimposed over his vision. Logan stood still for several seconds testing just how user friendly it was, and ended up pleasantly surprised as it became almost transparent when he tried focusing on his surroundings to nearly blocking out his vision when he meant to read it. The ease of use was a nice feature and Logan found himself liking it despite still not being entirely sure what to think. In the end, he reminded himself that he was on a vacation and Ozar's Realm came well recommended by those people back at Lunar Spire he considered friends and family.

Even as he utilized the map to navigate hallways that were designed to look like wooden floors, ceilings and walls, Logan paid attention to the various doors placed at equal spans. Oddly enough, the map didn't acknowledge them as anything with a label-- at least, not until he thought about it. Suddenly numbers appeared on the map and a key that he hadn't recognized until he wondered about them identified them as private rooms. At that realization Logan had to remind himself yet again that he was on vacation and any 'resort' type place had a hotel; guests would require rooms!

At the end of the hall he saw his first physical sign, which happened to match one he saw on the map; apparently he was heading toward a common area-- some kind of tavern based on what the key indicated. As he proceeded down the stairs a fresh announcement flashed across his vision, identifying the area as a public 'Safe Zone'. His implant quickly piped in to let him know that spells and abilities targeting others would not work within a safe zone without permission and only certain effects would work if permission were granted. That final thought struck Logan as odd, but he let it go by as he began to descend the steps, eager to see what awaited him. As it turned out, what awaited him was a LOT.

There were somewhere around twenty steps-- not the escalator type that moved a traveler to a higher or lower level; they were old fashioned steps that required Logan to move under his own power. The lighting on the stairs were limited to two glass-covered candle type lanterns; they looked like they were wicks dipped in oil, yet they were capable of providing ample illumination and served their purpose. At the bottom of the steps, the room beyond opened up to a surprising size and Logan stood there for many long moments taking it all in.

Once again he was treated to a 'splash screen' across his vision, announcing that he had entered 'The Eight Shannons'. The massive room looked like some kind of middle-age tavern right out of a fantasy adventuring game. The entire affair was comprised of a combination of wood and stone with an even floor from wall-to-wall excluding a 10 meter square raised section that looked like some kind of stage in the corner opposite the stairs. Tables were spaced evenly around the room, most of which were circular and looked to accommodate eight but some were rectangular and had seats for twelve.

The wall across from the stairs was made entirely of stone, save the massive windows which were set into the walls with some kind of dark wood and the panes themselves looked to be frosted glass, making it hard to look out to the world beyond, but the occasional flicker of light and faint hints of movement gave Logan the impression that it was early morning and a fairly busy street lay beyond. On the same wall as the stair case and to Logan's left was another long stretch of wood: the tavern's bar. That was where the young man caught sight of the only other individual present aside from himself.

The Orc, or so the man appeared to be, was somewhere close to seven foot tall. The man's skin was green and he had pointed ears and a slightly bestial face, complete with tusks poking up from behind his bottom lip. He had shoulder-length, slightly wavy black hair and a close-cut, well kept black beard. The bartender (Logan reasoned that man must have been one) had the tell-tale white apron on over what looked like a rich brown uniform that looked right at home amidst the wooden bar and shelves. Despite the Orc's ample muscles, he moved with surprising care as he worked a rag around the inside of a damp mug.

With nothing else to do, Logan slowly made his way over to the bar. "Uh... hi-- hello?"

The barkeep offered a warm smile, complete with tusks; despite the alien nature of it, Logan still felt welcomed by the expression. The Orc set the mug he was drying upside down next to another ten of them and picked up yet another to start working on with his rag. When he spoke, the Orc's voice was deep and rich, rumbling, but not in a way that suggested any aggression-- more of the kind of a raspy tone of a folksy singer. "Morning! Looks like you're up a little earlier than the rest of the adventurers, friend. Bar's not open yet, but if you're hungry I'm sure we can serve something up."

Remembering what TIBOR had implied about doing things 'the right way', Logan tried to at least bluff his way through the transaction. "Good morrow, uh... fair... Orc. Verily I have traveled far to get... um... here. My... nameth be--"

A vibrant, humorous glimmer twinkled in the Orc's red eyes and he raised a large, calloused hand to stop Logan, speaking up with a surprisingly casual tone, and the hint of what the young thought was what could have been a mid-western US accent. "Whoa... lemme stop ya there, Mr. Bradshaw. No need to lean into things just yet. It's not a big deal if you're not ready to 'play along in character yet'... takes some time for some folks to pick up on. It's perfectly fine for you to speak normal." The Orc then leaned forward and offered a good-humored wink. "For the first day, at least... after that the boss gets kinda mean about it."

Logan balked at that, but felt immediately better knowing he didn't have to perform... at least for the first day. "The boss? You mean Ozar?"

The Orc offered a succinct nod, and went back to wiping off his newest glass. "Yep. People come here for the immersion... Ozar likes people to follow the rules but figures newcomers could use some settling in time. He's a pretty chill guy, but make sure you at least TRY to fit in when you're outside the safe zone." Leaning forward, the Orc lowered his voice, speaking in a conspiratory tone. "Go out of character in a game zone though, and, if he finds out about it, you can sure as hell he'll turn into a major asshole."

Logan tried to smile in as friendly a manner as possible considering the chill that ran up his spine. "Uh... yeah. I'll... work on that."

The Orc let out a hearty laugh and gave Logan a friendly pat on the head (the young man hated the gesture immediately, but couldn't force him to hate the Orc for it). "Don't worry about it... you don't HAVE to go out into the game world. Plenty of first time visitors spend their time in here or in their room getting used to things. Besides, there's no rule that says you HAVE to participate-- this is supposed to be fun, after all."

Logan nodded, mind already moving a mile a minute as he attempted to assess the situation. He realized that he had really been getting used to his implant when he suddenly surprised himself when he noticed that the Orc didn't have any social details showing. His implant quickly provided an explanation. "In Ozar's Realm all social systems are behind an information lock. You are only able to gain social information on those who release it to you and then you only get public information based on their persona rather than their real identity unless they have an open profile."

The Orc leaned forward again, both elbows on the bar as he grinned a goofy smirk. "Right about now you're probably trying to figure out why you don't know who I am."

Apparently the bartender knew guests fairly well. Logan, however, followed up his reply with another statement. "I'm also wondering why you know who I am when I haven't released anything to you... you called me Logan, but I didn't introduce myself."

Smirking, the Orc winked. "For guests, sure... but employees here get the details of everyone. How else're we supposed to be all friendly and hospitable?"

Logan immediately felt his face blush and wallowed in the self-depreciation of acknowledging that he had jumped into a conclusion, and right off a social cliff. "Oh. Right. Bartender. Of course you're an employee."

The sound of a door opening and closing cut the conversation short, but not as much as a strong, chiding, female voice shouting across the large room. "Ozar! Don't tell me you're messing with the Virgins again!"

Logan did a double-take. "Virgins? Ozar?"

The Orc offered only a sheepish, goofy grin, and held up a hand in greeting to the newcomer. "You know I can't help m'self, Daliah. You have any idea the last time we had a fresh face come through?"

Logan turned to regard the woman as she approached and his entire thought process drained right out of his ears. The woman was beyond normal; 'otherworldly' was too mild an adjective to describe her. Standing at least a few inches taller than his Corpus, the woman was wispy and nearly ephemeral; she seemed to float in a dance more than she walked. Every move full of grace, her limbs seemed slightly too long, including her fingers, and especially her ears, which were easily twice the size of a normal Human's, and ended in points.

Her pure white hair was pulled up into a bun at the back of her head with a few strands framing her petite, angular face. The only information available on her was that her name was Daliah (filled in thanks to the Orc) and that her status bar identified her as an Elf. She stepped up next to him at the bar, turning his direction for just long enough to see her eerie eyes, which had black irises and pure blue pupils. "Don't forget to breathe, Virgin."

Logan was just about to thoroughly embarrass himself by attesting that he was, in fact, NOT a virgin, when a deep, rumbling voice spoke up next to his ear; the Orc's breath smelled faintly of maple syrup. "Virgin means it's your first time here."

Daliah leaned against the bar, even going so far as to reach beyond it and around the slight lip on the bartender's side; her hand came back with a wooden bowl filled with what looked like steaming oatmeal. She dug into it with a wooden spoon and Logan was sure he smelled cinnamon. He forced his attention away from her to avoid getting caught by her surreal gaze as the Elf addressed the Orc. "So... do I get to hear why you're gracing us with your presence on this cycle?"

The barkeep was all tusky smiles as he raised his hands up in a deescalating manner. "Relax, Daliah... just here to show Logan around."

The Elf rolled her eyes and shoved the spoon into her mouth. She talked at Logan around the utensil. "Lucky you. Not everyone gets Ozar's direct attention ever... let alone their first time here."

Logan looked back at the Orc. "You're Ozar... as in, OZAR's Realm, Ozar?"

The Orc's sheepish grin remained. "Well... yeah. Nobody else is able to use the name here... it's kinda MY thing, after all."

The young man thought back to what the barkeep had said. "So YOU'RE the asshole boss?"

Ozar simply responded with a sheepish grin while Daliah motioned at him with her spoon. "This hermit here doesn't spend much time in the public area... mostly just for special events. Guess I shoulda expected it considering you're Star's nephew or whatever."

Ozar corrected her before Logan could. "She's HIS niece. Logan is a Class 1."

Her eyebrow perked and the young man got the sudden feeling that he was being watched like a mouse being eyed by cat. "Is that so? Well, Logan Bradshaw... you just caught my interest. Congratulations."

Logan simultaneously felt like he was very much not a winner, and that he'd scored the jackpot. He had no idea how he was going to reconcile those opposing viewpoints. In the end, the best thing he figured he could do was to be gracious. "Oh... uh... thanks?"