2-8

And as promised, others came.

Shallare was wandering the Emporium as they waited for others to arrive, and if they hadn’t been astonished by the building before, they certainly were now. It felt lonely, almost, being in the structure without the other ‘Point’ to accompany them.

“What is a ‘Point’, anyway?” they thought, pausing their pacing and trading it for standing in place and staring into space. Shallare thought of it as an odd question to ask. If they were a Point, why didn’t they know anything about Points? Why didn’t they know anything about the very thing they were? They realized they were beginning to repeat themselves, albeit mentally. They began sifting through their own mind, twisting and tumbling, and--

“Yo!”

Shallare was pulled out of their own head by a stranger snapping their fingers in their face. They blinked, stumbling backward.

“Hey, there we go!” The new Point chuckled, stepping forward to meet Shallare where they now stood. Shallare scanned them over. While Cyalm had been colored in white and cyan, the fellow before them held a gradient of gray-to-red. Shallare opened a mouth they didn’t have to speak, and wound up unable to summon any words to their brain.

“Who are you?” they asked, taking another step towards them.

“Uh,” they began, “Shallare.”

“Oh, shit--” Shallare cringed at the other’s language-- “we both got S-names,” the stranger grinned, playfully punching Shallare in the shoulder.

“Well, so, here’s the deal, little dude.”

“Little dude?”

“Let me speak,” the stranger said, huffing slightly. Shallare couldn’t help but back away again. “The name’s Signol! Quite possibly the only person here who, y’know, has their stuff together.” Something in Signol’s tone sounded strange, but Shallare didn’t comment.

“Are...are there others now?”

“Yeah, duh,” responded Signol, crossing their arms. “I’ve seen some others wandering around. You, meanwhile, have just been kinda standing here.”

“Oh,” mumbled Shallare.

“Eh, don’t think too much of it.” Again, they were hit in the shoulder. “Go make some friends, weird statue dude.”

“Right,” they replied. And with that, Signol wandered off.

Wandering aside into a different room, Signol found themselves listening in on other voices around them--some mingling, some just talking to themselves. A Scotsman there, a brit there, some sort of voice shouting after them--

“HEADS UP, RED DUDE!”

As they were too lost in thought to register a warning, Signol got knocked in the back of the head by a lantern.

On closer inspection, the floor of the Sky Emporium looked pretty nice.

They heard rushing footsteps, and heard them come to a stop right next to them. The unfamiliar voice, the same one that had tried to warn them, could be heard as well.

“Oh, damn it--are you alright, man?”

“Hggguhuhghuhhu,” they replied.

Signol was unable to stifle a small squeak when they were pulled up to their feet. Noted--whoever this was, they were pretty strong.

“Here, I’ve got ya...” Signol turned his gaze to the stranger. Green-to-red gradient. Green up-facing arrow symbol. Sorta friendly vibes. Cute as hell, they thought, before immediately stifling said thought.

What they were unable to stifle, however, was how flushed their face was.

“Oh, dude, you don’t look too good...I’m so sorry,” continued the stranger, panic still audible in their voice.

“Oh, no, man, I’m fine, I’m fine--” they went to move back, and wound up nearly falling again-- “I’m okay.”

The stranger huffed, sudden frustration filling their face.

“Hey, weirdo!! I told you to quit throwing these things before someone got--”

They both turned their gaze to an empty corner.

″--...hurt. Ugh. They ran off. ’nd looks like they took the lantern with ’em, too...” They sighed, defeated. Signol coughed.

“Uuhh...well, moving on...You got a name, big dude?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” The fellow took Signol’s hand to shake it, and Signol could’ve sworn they forgot how to breathe.

“Name’s Arrolin, dude! Cool to meet you!”

“Cool to meet you,” Signol echoed stupidly. As it turned out, despite what they thought, Signol certainly didn’t have their shit together.

Elsewhere, a different fellow entirely stood outside, having distanced themselves from the crowd indoors. Strange of Cyalm, they thought, to not have put any railing near the edges. They found themselves unable to pry their eyes away from what one could nearly call a cliff--the floor giving way, cascading down into seemingly endless sky and clouds--of which falling off of could mean certain death--

bonk

This strange Point, Ulipse, was very suddenly cracked out of their line of thought by the very same lantern that had hit Signol earlier. They stumbled, nearly fumbling back into a wall, a short string of profanity being shouted in response to the sudden assault. A blur of black-and-white darted by to retrieve their weapon, only to feel a sudden firm grip around their arm.

“HEY, ASSHOLE! Where do you think you’re going?!”

The new Point blinked. White-to-black gradient, a black up-facing crescent for a symbol. Total weirdo, more than likely.

“Can you talk, or what?!” Ulipse barked, tightening their grip on the fellow. They simply stared.

What prompted Ulipse to let go was their eye opening. The new Point’s symbol was barely a symbol at all, but an honest-to-god eye. Ulipse flinched back, a startled yelp escaping them. The Point’s eye shut, and just as fast as they were there, they were gone.

And off they darted up a short series of ramps, barely missing a crash into another Point, and--

Crashing directly into a door. They fumbled backward, a frustrated hiss escaping them, before finally taking a moment to take in their surroundings.

The Point they had nearly crashed into was staring at them blankly. Dark blue to light blue gradient. Their symbol looked sorta like a minus sign. The two shared a long, blank stare at eachother, seemingly waiting for one another to make any sort of movement.

“Hello,” said the stranger. Their voice sounded metallic and artificial. A robot, thought the black-and-white Point. They gave the robot no verbal response, turning back to face the door. It easily towered over the two, nearly reaching the ceiling. It looked like it’d open more like a pair of gates. They shoved at it, to no avail. A frustrated snarl was the first noise to ever leave the fellow. The robot stared.

“I have already attempted many times to open that door,” they began. “Each attempt has had a success rate of 0%.”

And as fast as they were there, the black-and-white point was gone. The robot stared, storing what they’d seen for later. There was no blur of them scurrying off, this time--they’d simply disappeared. With that, the robot cast their gaze back towards a wall, continuing their task of restoring what seemed to be missing files in their systems.

And as the pattern goes, their focus was broken.

“Right, so what t’hell is’at, then?” New voice registered. Scottish accent.

“That’s another Point, Ploque.” Name registered as Ploque. New voice registered. Calm, soothing voice. No accent that was audible.

“Right,” continued Ploque, lumbering over to the robot. They looked up, quite literally scanning the fellow over. Gold-to-yellow gradient, yellow four-pointed star for a symbol. Noted. The Point with them followed suit, going to stand next to them. Dark gray-to-white gradient, 8-pointed star for a symbol. Appearance registered. Many stars around here, so it seemed. Noted.

“Ol’ cloud-boy told us t’go an’ gather everyone at th’ entrance. Y’comin’?”

“Affirmative,” the robot replied, giving a curt nod.

“Excellent. We’ll see you there, then,” began the 8-pointed star, only to be interrupted.

“Please identify yourself,” requested the robot. The Point blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Please identify yourself,” they repeated.

“Oh,” they said. “My name is Compale. Do...do you happen to have a name?”

“Mino,” replied the robot. Mino accompanied their introduction with a short bow.

“We shoul’ get movin’,” muttered Ploque, who was beginning to pace impatiently.

“Right, of course,” nodded Compale.

“I’ll meet you all,” remarked the black-and-white Point.

Everyone in the room save for Mino and the Point themselves flinched back at their sudden arrival and just-as-sudden exit.

The Point hummed pleasantly to themselves, nearly waltzing out of the room and down the ramps again, though their feet never touched the ground. They vastly preferred floating over walking. They muttered to themselves, replying to each voice that spoke to them through the walkie-talkie of their brain, able to identify each voice by the sound, able to speak to those so far away, able to--

They crashed directly into Ulipse.

“W--HEY, WATCH IT, YOU--” they whipped around, and snarled at realizing who this was-- ”...You.”

“Me?” The Point echoed, their eye opening again. Ulipse flinched, but did not falter.

“You can talk,” they growled, seizing the Point by the arm again in case they got any plans to run off.

"Oh, can't we all?" The point grinned.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, punk?!"

"Well, to begin, I think my name is Ixol, and I think you're about to let go of my arm before I set you on fire."

"What?"

With that, Ulipse's hand got set on fire. They yelped and thrashed backwards, frantically trying to put themselves out. Ixol giggled uncontrollably as they darted off towards the entrance.

Elsewhere once more, a Point was watching the clouds go by.

At least, they were, until Ixol came plowing into them on accident.

"Hello," exclaimed Ixol.

"HELLO?????" replied the poor bastard that got ran over.

"Sorry for mowin' ya down, stranger." Ixol floated back off of them, giggling to themselves. "Didn't see ya there!"

"It's--" the Point got up-- "it's fine." This fellow had a gradient of orange-to-scarlet, and a yellow star for a symbol. Ixol also noted they sounded British.

"You headin' out to meet the others or huh?"

"I'll be there in a moment," they muttered, turning their eyes back to the window.

"...So who the hell are you?" Ixol asked, floating towards the exit as they did.

"Anshine. And who are--" Anshine turned to discover that Ixol had left.

"...Ah."

And in the main room, people filtered in, eventually forming a small crowd. Cyalm scanned them all over, hands nearly shaking with delight at the sight alone.

"Welcome, everyone. It's a pleasure to have you all here."

"Well, it's not like we had a choice," Ixol commented, chuckling.

"...Please, sir," Cyalm muttered, "let me speak."

"As you may know, I summoned you all here for a reason," they continued, motioning to the crowd. "We have much to discuss, you all."

"Alright, discuss, then! Take it away, cloudfella!" Ixol motioned back to them. Cyalm blinked.

"...Very well, then. Have any of you ever heard of a being called Celesteal?"