Harlock's Palace - The Endless Orbit of Loneliness Deux

[freearcadia]

Who: Yor, Nikkolaus
When
What: Palace time
Content Warnings: same as the first.

In the same ruin-filled wasteland, Yor and Nikkolaus would find themselves some distance away from where the other group had landed, the darkness that momentarily blinded and tried to choke them them receding.

The featureless void is not so featureless now, as the dimmest of stars struggle to make themselves known, still and not twinkling as stars should - the spaceship Arcadia hovering, unmoving on the northernmost horizon.

The winds still howled, alternating between the blistering heat and arctic chill, carrying a faint melody in the air from the east and a vague shape surrounded by a localized sandstorm, and low groans from the west with what looks to be a withered tree in the distance.

The ground shakes as the Arcadia fires - debris and dust flying up as it attacked something too far away to see - hopefully no one got hurt.

Comments

[badsunrising]

... I don't sing.

[freearcadia]

[the vault doors don't budge, but it attracted the attention of whoever or whatever might be inside, as the music momentarily stops, and there's the sound of shuffling]

[briarliar]

Um, hello?

[ she calls not too loudly because of her failed persuasion attempt just moments before ]

[badsunrising]

[Getting ready to fight again. Because it's what he does.]

[freearcadia]

[There's a muffled voice, trying to speak, but it's too soft to make the words out too clearly]

[briarliar]

[ pressing her ear against the door ]

Could you speak a little louder?

[badsunrising]

... maybe try getting closer to the door.

[freearcadia]

[The voice tries, it's that of a young child]

...are - ...safe out...?

[briarliar]

[ to Nikkolaus ]

How can I get closer to the door?

[ but then she hears the girl's voice and Yor's face brightens with the possible identity behind it, shouting louder and excitedly this time ]

We're very safe people! We're looking for Mr. Harlock! Can you help us find him?

[badsunrising]

I meant the kid.

[To the kid, slightly more gentle:]

If you're worried about the monsters, we left them pretty far back. And we can handle them if they show up again. You're safe.

[freearcadia]

Harlock!

[Now that was audible]

What do I do?

[briarliar]

Are you Miss Mayu? Could you open the door for us please? O-or tell us another way to get inside so we can talk to you?

[freearcadia]

Yes - but there's nothing on this side I can reach, I think there's a keypad on your side...

[briarliar]

W-we see one! Do you happen to know the code?

[badsunrising]

[To Yor:]

You know her?

[briarliar]

Yes! W-well, I know about her! Miss Mayu is his adopted daughter. If there was any place in his heart well-protected it would be here!

[badsunrising]

She might know how to reach him then.

[briarliar]

[ her previous excitement falters a little ]

...she might, but...they don't get to spend all their time together. Mr. Harlock says it's too dangerous to have a child on a ship like that.

[badsunrising]

[Looking away]

... He must care a lot about her.

But if this is a version of her in his heart, then she should be vital to finding him.

[briarliar]

But how do we open the lock to reach her? I-I'm afraid I don't know him well enough to know something like birthdays or special codes he might use...

[badsunrising]

Like you said, she might know. Or at least be able to tell us what to do.

[freearcadia]

It's - I think it's the notes of this song.

[She finally speaks up]

Maybe if you press them in order... just follow me.

[Mayu would recite the notation, which does seem to correspond with the odd scale keypad, repeating if asked to]

[briarliar]

[ she's going to have to repeat, Yor doesn't know music theory and there is no "Sound of Music" in Ostania (...probably). but she tries her best to press the keys in order. ]

Like this?

[badsunrising]

[Is equally lost honestly]

[freearcadia]

[It takes some tries, but persistence will pay off, the vault doors finally sliding open with a low groan.

In sharp contrast to the nearly pitch-black sky and lifeless wasteland, there is a cherry tree in full bloom, and soft green grass. Standing close to the door is a girl about seven, holding an ocarina in hand, like Franklin her eyes had the faint yellow color to it]

You did it!