Temporal Traveler - Telerand in the Paperverse: Oasis of One

#101 - Weather

Depict your character experiencing their favorite weather. Alternatively, depict your character experiencing their least favorite weather.

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[World: tl*ATK-115]

[Expanded designation: time loop, Atelikoras, string 115]

[Status: deactivated, loop suspended. Relic Field.]

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Stepping into the austere rockscape of this abandoned loop, Telerand smiled to himself. He always enjoyed carrying out Relic assignments in this particular field. 

Everything about ATK-115 went contrary to his own expectations and the expectations of the Visors. 

With its previous inhabitants relocated, and no other natural residents of the world, there were no organisms to observe, residents to interview, civilizations to experience. 

Suspended halfway through its unraveling process, the world didn’t even experience a change of landscape as a result of natural weathering and erosion over time. There was nothing new here this time. Not last time, or the dozen times before that.

Nothing new since he had moved Paiko and Zargan and Kyarric out two years ago, and nothing new would ever happen here again. 

The only reason he managed to convince Theschor and Zyklare to let him return to ATK-115 was its massive potential as a Relic Field, and the secrets of its strange, time-snarled history just waiting to be uncovered.

It wasn’t the main reason why he liked coming back, however.

That the weather remained always predictable, never changing, was a curious comfort to Telerand. Not one he expected to find solace in, considering the deserted timeline had intimidated him the first time he’d realized he was the only living soul in the entire domain.

The faint crash of waves at the base of the island plateau and the whistling of gentle breezes through the rock formations prevented him from being stifled by complete stillness.

He walked some distance away from the entrance rift, stepping one foot up on a shallow ridge of stone. His boot print from last time was still there, when he’d accidentally trodden in some dust from another world before coming here. 

The dust from drier worlds always clung to him, and he never failed to find fine granules in the folds of his clothes, or shedding from his hair, or caked up in the tiny gaps between his joints. Trying to brush them off only built up more attractive force, and he’d given up on such an infuriating, futile task.

But here, where the atmosphere was saturated with the spray of the sea, the mists caressed his frame with its foggy fingers, dispelling the charge Telerand normally carried from simply running the energy used to keep his whole self functioning.

It was a good thing Navi’s last upgrades swapped out his metal parts for something rust-proof and water-resistant. Humidity might cancel out his static-based abilities, but it made him feel whole and organic again.

He took off his left glove, letting mist condense into dew droplets on his bare skin. The pleasure in that sensation brought a smile to his lips.

He then took off his right glove, exposing the hand with three metal-plated digits. Nowhere else but here could he run his fingers through his hair and produce no sparks. 

Imagine that. Being able to fix his hair without shocking himself. A rare luxury.

The breeze shifted, combining with the evaporating moisture to produce a refreshing, cooling effect. He took a deep breath in. Years ago, he might’ve choked on such densely saturated air, but he embraced its richness now.

Minutes went by in stillness and solitude. This was his space. No other could appreciate it the same way. 

Atelikoras had been empty for years. Yet there was a living, breathing peace to it, like a sleeping world rather than a withering one. It made him wonder; had his homeworld been suspended before its destruction, like this one, would it have retained its moisture?

That would probably be a question for Theschor. And he still had a job to do.

Telerand pulled his gloves back on, feeling recharged and static-discharged. Relics weren’t going to reset themselves, and there were more secrets to be uncovered in this mist-shrouded reality.

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655 Words

Telerand does indeed find humid weather to be one of the finest kinds of weather. (I find that ironic and almost counterintuitive due to how electrically-aligned his composition is. But Telly blew my expectations out of the water.)

He's aware it's a somewhat... unconventional, unpopular opinion. Then again, he's somewhat unconventional and unpopular on a couple of worlds as well.