A Question for Eternity: a Sorcerously Advanced Quest of New Immortals Seeking Purpose
- Thread starter MxOberon
- Start date
- Original Mature Fantasy Action
- Location
- Germany
I imagine the reason why the trickery stat is described as manipulative is because it's the trickery stat, which is for being manipulative. I get how "storyteller" in a vaccuum sounds like the talky path and it is, just not the one for having a honest talk using idealism and passion to convince people. That's just straight up communicating with them. As in the Communication stat, which Tibia already has. That's why, as you point out, she already had success with gathering the like minded to her.
The entire point of Hearth's lesson and by extension this vote is that convincing people through passion and idealism can only get us so far and we need to sharpen another tool. Not as our primary approach, certainly not as our only approach, but as our back up plan. If the honest appeal falls, do you want to beat others into submission, manipulate them, or point to your works to prove that you don't just meddle in fancy words, but that your idealology in fact creates a better world and their lives will be better for following it?
Likewise, I don't see why you think Tibia would have to build a sanctuary on her lonesome. Increasing her industry just means putting the thought into her mind in the first place so she can take the hand of others and lead them towards the project. What lends itself better to creating a better world than the nature that governs creating?
- Pronouns
- Any/Pronouns
ye sure okay i'll change my vote.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] The Wish of the Craftsman (Gain +1 Industry)
[X] The Wish of the Storyteller (Gain +1 Trickery)
We already have 3 Trickery which lets us bring it up to 4 with this. Though, I could see the benefit of rounding out out stats.
We already have 3 Trickery which lets us bring it up to 4 with this. Though, I could see the benefit of rounding out out stats.
From Thicc to Thicker - Day 2
Tibia had kept her eyes open when she crossed the threshold from Hearth's conjured doorway back into the reality of the Basin. The transition was smooth, but also just a bit jarring as her Sixth Sense was hit by the concordant tune of countless aspects playing upon the flow. At first she covered her ears, an action about as useless as tourists waving at their tongue to cool it off after eating a hot dish, but the initial shock wore away quickly. Her brain working overtime to remind herself that the singular note of the lake or tightly composed song of the Dream Realm were unusual. Regular life was hardly so controlled in most cases.
It was then she remembered where she was, Viper's bedroom. The "regular life" of the girl who had stained her sheets in tears shed for someone she'd only just met. Tibia did her best to block out the details of the room—she was an uninvited guest into such an intimate space after all—and instead gently slid the sheer Conjured netting aside to settle upon the tiniest corner of her bed. The shift in weight woke Viper immediately.
"Whu…Tibia, is that you?" Viper asked. Tentative hope bled into her voice.
Tibia nodded, "The one and only."
Viper shot forward and inflicted the warmest hug possible upon Tibia, and Tibia relented. It was an assault she was pleased to receive.
"Did you not regenerate right?" Viper asked.
"What are you…oh, the skull," Tibia said, gesturing at the skull fastened to her own. Removing it, she shook out her hair and smiled. Viper raised a hand to her face and grazed her cheek. Ever hungry for affection, Tibia couldn't help but lean into it.
"So this is what you look like in the flesh," Viper said.
"Y-yup."
Viper found herself just enchanted by Tibia's features: her plush cheeks, wide eyes, the way the black and white spots of hers shifted across her skin in infinitesimal degrees of motion. She could've spent all morning taking in the face of this confounding woman. Then, a look of slight confusion came upon her.
Tibia asked, "Is everything okay?"
"You're fuller than last night," Viper remarked.
"You're sure?"
"I should be, seeing as my entire craft exists within the bounds of volumetric measurement. And yes, you are. See," Viper commanded. She raised a hand and shaped it into a mudra symbolic with the patron her family's magic relied upon. Tibia sensed the slightest dip in flow as it transitioned from conceptual energy into solid matter. Into a mirror.
Viper shooed Tibia off the edge of the bed to see for herself. Perfectly fine being ordered around by the small magus, Tibia hopped off to get a look. She needed only a moment before she knew Viper was correct. Her own build, or rather previous build, was hardly waif-ish but it reflected very much the lifestyle of minimal exercise, good pastries, and lounging that she had worked for. She had possessed rhythmic curves that flowed down her hips, thighs, and calves. Some paunch that she earned from late-night noodle dinners with her fellow Sages. Overall, a softness that her mother had found adorable as a youth, but unbefitting on an immortal. A soft exterior is borne from a soft interior, Moth had drilled into her over the recent years. An argument that, due to the way the Gift would match a mortal's exterior appearance to their interior reality, had an iota of validity were it not for the sheer corpus of research texts Tibia would cite back at her saying otherwise.
All the same, Tibia had liked her build, but as she stared into the mirror she could see only hints of the her that had fallen into the lake. In the mirror's eye, Tibia had become taller stretching up to six foot, and to quote Viper, "fuller" in compensation. Her waist, her upper arms and forearms, her legs, all of her had thickened with the sort of hidden muscle she had grown up seeing in the forgemasters that worked at her mother's Soul Forges. She had wished the wish of a craftswoman, and now she looked the part in totality. Tibia rolled her shoulders backwards and forwards, marveled at how much stronger, how much more industrious she looked.
Tibia glanced at Viper to ask if she looked okay, but caught the designer with her mouth open and eyes drunk on the way her newfound musculature rippled beneath her dress. She smirked. Viper blinked for a long moment to gather herself.
"Tell me everything," Viper said, and Tibia, ever comfortable taking orders from her, did.
Her recounting the actual events had taken only ten minutes. Yet the two of them talked for near on an hour as Viper lobbied question after question at Tibia. She didn't have an answer for most of them, seeing as, "My body was shutting down," meant that her ability to commit things to memory was very much hampered. Still, she did her best and by the very end when her story had taken her to Viper's bedroom the duo had retired back to the designer's atelier where they sipped coffee.
"It seems you definitely came out of things the best you could've. Still, is there any reason why you didn't use the stars to escape initially? That much stored flow could've let you do almost anything to get away."
Tibia sipped quietly at her coffee. "Tibia," Viper said. The menace inching her way.
"I, um, thought they were creepy."
Viper locked eyes with Tibia, smiled, and leaned forward. Tibia's eyes darted around unsure of why she was leaning, but sensing the potential danger. She sensed the trumpeting call of Violence upon the flow. Her body was still too slow. Thwick!
She reared back, her hands over her forehead. Viper then tapped her nose with the offending finger.
"Next time, I don't care how creepy something is, you take hold of that power and get yourself back home!" She shook her head, "I was worried for you. One, my social reputation is good but not so good that it could survive someone just disappearing under mysterious circumstances on my property. Two…" she trailed off. The tears had snuck back into the corner of her eyes.
"Two, we had just met and I wouldn't fully know who to even reach out to. Everyone knows your mother, but what about your friends, your mentor, your lover," her eyes flicked up at the last one to read Tibia's face. "I don't fully know your world. It was a lot."
Tibia knew what she meant. Even before gaining their immortality, most people in the Basin lived lives of great safety. A skilled enough healer could put you back together with impeccable skill and speed. The line of what death even was had blurred and the word had lost much of its true depths outside of Necromantic civilizations like the Cult. What this did mean though is that some deaths had gained an oversized weight in the heart of most magi. Deaths where a body was exceedingly difficult to recover, where the soul had gone missing or was stolen, or countless other permutations. A skilled healer could put you back together, but they still needed all the parts.
"Well, I'd love to show you my world sometime," Tibia said while smiling.
Viper nodded. "Sure thing, and those fangs are beautiful. Like you're after my own heart," she said before opening her jaw and revealing her own snow-white set.
"Thank you," Tibia said as she tried not to panic. Her tongue ran over the fangs that had moved into her mouth and made it home. The pattern of them was familiar, but where? She stroked the skull in her lap…Tibia chuckled and examined the skull, a perfect match. The thought didn't live long in her mind, but Tibia wondered how deep some of these changes went. Were any other parts of her hydra-like?
Viper drained the last of her coffee. Sighed, and then stood from her chair.
"I'm glad you're alive, but I need to start getting what work done that I can before tonight's balls. Any chance I'll see you tonight?" she asked.
"Odds are good I'd hope. I don't know what ball I'll be attending, or would even be fitting for me but I'll be at balls the entire Marche. So if tonight doesn't work, there'll be others."
Viper's eyes narrowed while an eyebrow rose playfully, "You better not make me wait a whole week before I see you again, or you'll be racing off into Hell."
Tibia smiled back. Viper's eyebrow fell with the suddenness of a guillotine. Tibia nodded fervently at that. She understood completely.
"Let's send you on your way," Viper said.
Tibia scratched out her address for Viper while she retrieved a stopper of liquid shadow from a nearby drawer. While atypical to the form that Knotwork had derived its name from, Tibia could feel the potent flow that was stored inside it. The dropper was unsheathed and with two little presses the flow was released. Though before it could escape upon the stream, Viper had raised her mudra once more and flung the flow out beyond space to access the Travel Lattice. In moments a rounded portal existed in the middle of the room.
"Goodbye Tibia," Viper said.
"See you soon," she replied and donned her skull helm. Then proudly crossed the portal's threshold and stepped upon the translucent bridge that led to the exit coordinates she'd given Viper. One part because she needed them to use the Lattice properly. The other part because maybe Viper would want to visit her sometime. Though it was mainly for the first part, yep, mainly the first part.
Tibia enjoyed her walk home. Sure the space-between-spaces that the Travel Lattice used was chilly—a fact made evident by the way her nips could stab a man—but it was also rather cosmopolitan. All around her were an infinite number of bridges far as the eye could see. People from every civilization, from some of the Unruly Lands, from the Worlds Beyond like the many Hells and Heavens, and even those from farther still made use of the Lattice. She stopped for a moment to drink it in.
Like most, Tibia knew that while the Gift was new for the Basin—a literal Gift from Aion who held their world in their hands—there had to have been grand civilizations of mages long before now. It wasn't like they actually had tons of records of them, or at least records they could read, but rather because their theurgical ancestors had left their works behind. Pieces of magical engineering so grand and so all-encompassing as to re-shape life for everyone across nearly every realm of existence. Their number was five and their magnitude so grand as to earn them the title of Grand Wonderwork. Of which the Travel Lattice was only one. And here she was taking a stroll across like it was the most regular thing.
Tibia looked down at her hands. A re-shapened pair meant to hold tools, to work things, to build. She looked back out at the bridges before her that connected the world, the realms, everyone. Industry had shaped the world, and though her ambitions were far from that high maybe it'd let her re-shape her world just the same. A magi could wish, huh.
When Tibia made it home she found her mother on the stairs in the foyer. A blanket was wrapped around her and a cup of tea, poured by Agragor of course, floated in the air beside her.
"Moth," Tibia said, "I didn't expect to see you here."
Moth smiled softly. Rose from position and laid the blanket over Agragor's shoulder.
"Agragor, make sure to get that washed," she said.
Agragor's head crackled briefly before he strode off into the depths of the villa to attend to the laundry. The two of them, Moth and Tibia, remained in the foyer. Moth's eyes tracked the contour of Tibia's body, assessed her, and was pleased.
"You're not soft anymore," she stated.
Tibia didn't have a reply. She had stopped acknowledging those obvious provocations.
"Is that skull decorative?" Moth asked.
Tibia removed the skull. Smiled down at it. Her smile disappeared when she looked back at her mother.
"No. It's commemorative," Tibia replied.
"Of what?"
"Everything I hate about…" Tibia trailed off. How to end that sentence? Everything she hated about the Sovereignty, about Sovereigns, or about people like her mother. They were all good options.
"Hmph, I'll have Agragor give it a good treatment. There's still flesh sticking to it."
Tibia glanced back at it. There was some flesh stuck to it.
"I've left the day's invitations on your bedside table."
Tibia began her ascent up the other set of stairs in the foyer. She let the room divide the two of them.
"Tibia," Moth began, "please send me a message if you'll be out this late again."
She shook her head. "Don't act like you care, now. If I remember to, I'll write you, otherwise," Tibia closed her eyes and sighed, "treat this as practice for when you expel."
Moth's polite smile disappeared. She assessed Tibia, saw her, and shrugged.
"We all have foundations to work on. I'm pleased you're finally seeing to yours."
She left the staircase first. Her footsteps transitioned from echo to ephemeral impression as she departed for her wing of the villa. While Tibia saw to her own room.
Once the door was closed Tibia flung herself onto her bed. A scream muffled into the blankets. Emotions she thought deposited elsewhere had spilled across her mind. All the words she wanted to say but struggled to say. All the ways she hated that she wanted things from Moth even now. She knew to expect nothing, but couldn't help but still expect. Love, affection, but Moth was, as her famous technique, cold.
"Couldn't even let me have the last word," Tibia grumbled.
She snatched the invites from the table and gave them a cursory glance. Then dressed for the day. Even with much of the morning gone there was still plenty of time before tonight's events. Whilst in the shower she heard the cloying grip of a mellow tune curl upon her shoulder. The signature of it was Viper's, Tibia knew that immediately, and answered, causing the tune to materialize into a small inky shadow-imp that sat on her shoulder.
"I see you made it back home in one piece," she said.
Tibia chuckled, "Yeah, well I did my best to steer clear of any lakes along the way."
"Good girl,"
Tibia squeezed too hard and the soap shot out from her hand into her chin. She pinwheeled her arms to keep from slipping on the sudsy water of the shower.
"Anyways, just wanted to let you know I have a servitor arriving soon with some notes. What ball I'll be attending as well as a note from Decimation. Even with the whole falling in the lake thing, it seems like you impressed him. Said you can stop by the Well anytime."
"Great," Tibia said before the anxiety creeped in, "that is great right?"
She could hear Viper wave off her fears, "No idea. I've never been. Tell me how it is if you visit!"
"Sure, sure. Viper, can I ask how—" Tibia hears the song of Viper's magic cut out before she could respond. The Farspeech channel had closed and with it went the imp.
Once her shower ended, Tibia returned to her bedroom to find the servitor, a small viper made of coagulated darkness, curled up on her bed. Upon sighting her it rose and unhinged its jaw. Two scrolls pushed up from within its stomach for Tibia. She took both and watched as the snake nuzzled into the shadow of her blanket's folds before it disappeared. Tibia had to give it to Viper, the girl knew her branding.
She settled against her pillows, the scrolls unfurled, invitations laid out, and began to put together her day's itinerary.
Daytime Action: General
[ ] Visit the Sage's favorite cafe (Communion)
[ ] Check Out the Soul Forges (Industry)
[ ] Wander the City Streets (Mystery)
[ ] Visit the local cemetery (Self)
[ ] Sneak Into Your Mother's Office (Trickery)
[ ] Make A Trip to The Dueling Hall (War)
Daytime Action: Special
[ ] Take Decimation Up On His Invitation (Mystery/Industry)
[ ] Spend Some Time With Insight (Trickery/War)
[ ] Visit Hearth In The Hydra's Dream Realm (Industry/Self)
Ball Options:
[ ] Attend the Ball of Bouquet, the Blood-Storm Dancer
Rest your eyes and prime your heart/ For in the luxury of dreams shall you take part/ In a turgid night of merry dance/ Where lovers and friends are free from gossip's glance/ So come one and come all to the night's soiree/ In honor of the darling known as Bouquet.
[ ] Attend the Ball of Pyre, The One Who Seeks the Last Horizon
Tonight we honor the ascension to immortality and true responsibility to young master, Pyre, The One Who Seeks the Last Horizon. Having traveled much with famed academic and explorer, Guillotine, the Thief of Forgotten Heavens, this ball will be one of truly cosmopolitan proportions. An undoubted quality as tonight's events shall even take place in the famous Cumulus Castle!
[ ] Attend the Ball of Saber, Inheritor of the Eight Directions to Annihilation Style
In a rare event, the obsidian doors to Hell's Brass Pagoda will be opened, and all may walk the halls in attendance of Saber's ball this Endless Marche. First daughter of the Eight Directions to Annihilation Style, Saber has already displayed tremendous fortitude as she inherits the style from her late father who has died a hero battling the Seven-Jawed Serpent Queen who ruled the Forest of Gilded Knives. There she shall receive an award in his honor and take up the mantle as administrator of the Brass Pagoda. Expect drink, dance, martial displays, and a surprise event worthy of a hero.
[ ] Attend the Ball of Sunrise, the Golden-Tongued Hierophant
Held within the Cathedral That Meets God's Gaze, the ball of tonight's Endless Marche is not just a celebration of immortal selfhood, but also immortal love in celebration of Sunrise's wedding to the angel-mage, Gracious Hand Serves Food. They shall proclaim their affections and together ascend to the Peridot Heaven. All we ask is that you bring only yourselves and leave one's devils at the door.
This is the ball Viper shall be attending, as she designed the wedding dress for the groom.
***AN: Another update for you all! It's plan making time again, you know how it goes. Pick a daytime action and a ball option. Note, that you'll see we now have special Daytime actions unlocked. These will be chances for you to follow up on threads you've begun, progress character relationships, etc. They also are actions that can see you gain expertises and core expression options from a mix of Natures rather than the more focused options of the general actions. Sometimes these offerings will change, sometimes certain actions special actions might not open until other events are reached. They'll vary. For these first three, they'll be available the rest of the Endless Marche, but some of their offerings will change.
Anyways, voting will close Sunday 5PM PST. Mainly cause I have a very busy back half of this week, and since it's plan voting time y'all can have plenty of time to discuss. Have fun, magi~
It was then she remembered where she was, Viper's bedroom. The "regular life" of the girl who had stained her sheets in tears shed for someone she'd only just met. Tibia did her best to block out the details of the room—she was an uninvited guest into such an intimate space after all—and instead gently slid the sheer Conjured netting aside to settle upon the tiniest corner of her bed. The shift in weight woke Viper immediately.
"Whu…Tibia, is that you?" Viper asked. Tentative hope bled into her voice.
Tibia nodded, "The one and only."
Viper shot forward and inflicted the warmest hug possible upon Tibia, and Tibia relented. It was an assault she was pleased to receive.
"Did you not regenerate right?" Viper asked.
"What are you…oh, the skull," Tibia said, gesturing at the skull fastened to her own. Removing it, she shook out her hair and smiled. Viper raised a hand to her face and grazed her cheek. Ever hungry for affection, Tibia couldn't help but lean into it.
"So this is what you look like in the flesh," Viper said.
"Y-yup."
Viper found herself just enchanted by Tibia's features: her plush cheeks, wide eyes, the way the black and white spots of hers shifted across her skin in infinitesimal degrees of motion. She could've spent all morning taking in the face of this confounding woman. Then, a look of slight confusion came upon her.
Tibia asked, "Is everything okay?"
"You're fuller than last night," Viper remarked.
"You're sure?"
"I should be, seeing as my entire craft exists within the bounds of volumetric measurement. And yes, you are. See," Viper commanded. She raised a hand and shaped it into a mudra symbolic with the patron her family's magic relied upon. Tibia sensed the slightest dip in flow as it transitioned from conceptual energy into solid matter. Into a mirror.
Viper shooed Tibia off the edge of the bed to see for herself. Perfectly fine being ordered around by the small magus, Tibia hopped off to get a look. She needed only a moment before she knew Viper was correct. Her own build, or rather previous build, was hardly waif-ish but it reflected very much the lifestyle of minimal exercise, good pastries, and lounging that she had worked for. She had possessed rhythmic curves that flowed down her hips, thighs, and calves. Some paunch that she earned from late-night noodle dinners with her fellow Sages. Overall, a softness that her mother had found adorable as a youth, but unbefitting on an immortal. A soft exterior is borne from a soft interior, Moth had drilled into her over the recent years. An argument that, due to the way the Gift would match a mortal's exterior appearance to their interior reality, had an iota of validity were it not for the sheer corpus of research texts Tibia would cite back at her saying otherwise.
All the same, Tibia had liked her build, but as she stared into the mirror she could see only hints of the her that had fallen into the lake. In the mirror's eye, Tibia had become taller stretching up to six foot, and to quote Viper, "fuller" in compensation. Her waist, her upper arms and forearms, her legs, all of her had thickened with the sort of hidden muscle she had grown up seeing in the forgemasters that worked at her mother's Soul Forges. She had wished the wish of a craftswoman, and now she looked the part in totality. Tibia rolled her shoulders backwards and forwards, marveled at how much stronger, how much more industrious she looked.
Tibia glanced at Viper to ask if she looked okay, but caught the designer with her mouth open and eyes drunk on the way her newfound musculature rippled beneath her dress. She smirked. Viper blinked for a long moment to gather herself.
"Tell me everything," Viper said, and Tibia, ever comfortable taking orders from her, did.
Her recounting the actual events had taken only ten minutes. Yet the two of them talked for near on an hour as Viper lobbied question after question at Tibia. She didn't have an answer for most of them, seeing as, "My body was shutting down," meant that her ability to commit things to memory was very much hampered. Still, she did her best and by the very end when her story had taken her to Viper's bedroom the duo had retired back to the designer's atelier where they sipped coffee.
"It seems you definitely came out of things the best you could've. Still, is there any reason why you didn't use the stars to escape initially? That much stored flow could've let you do almost anything to get away."
Tibia sipped quietly at her coffee. "Tibia," Viper said. The menace inching her way.
"I, um, thought they were creepy."
Viper locked eyes with Tibia, smiled, and leaned forward. Tibia's eyes darted around unsure of why she was leaning, but sensing the potential danger. She sensed the trumpeting call of Violence upon the flow. Her body was still too slow. Thwick!
She reared back, her hands over her forehead. Viper then tapped her nose with the offending finger.
"Next time, I don't care how creepy something is, you take hold of that power and get yourself back home!" She shook her head, "I was worried for you. One, my social reputation is good but not so good that it could survive someone just disappearing under mysterious circumstances on my property. Two…" she trailed off. The tears had snuck back into the corner of her eyes.
"Two, we had just met and I wouldn't fully know who to even reach out to. Everyone knows your mother, but what about your friends, your mentor, your lover," her eyes flicked up at the last one to read Tibia's face. "I don't fully know your world. It was a lot."
Tibia knew what she meant. Even before gaining their immortality, most people in the Basin lived lives of great safety. A skilled enough healer could put you back together with impeccable skill and speed. The line of what death even was had blurred and the word had lost much of its true depths outside of Necromantic civilizations like the Cult. What this did mean though is that some deaths had gained an oversized weight in the heart of most magi. Deaths where a body was exceedingly difficult to recover, where the soul had gone missing or was stolen, or countless other permutations. A skilled healer could put you back together, but they still needed all the parts.
"Well, I'd love to show you my world sometime," Tibia said while smiling.
Viper nodded. "Sure thing, and those fangs are beautiful. Like you're after my own heart," she said before opening her jaw and revealing her own snow-white set.
"Thank you," Tibia said as she tried not to panic. Her tongue ran over the fangs that had moved into her mouth and made it home. The pattern of them was familiar, but where? She stroked the skull in her lap…Tibia chuckled and examined the skull, a perfect match. The thought didn't live long in her mind, but Tibia wondered how deep some of these changes went. Were any other parts of her hydra-like?
Viper drained the last of her coffee. Sighed, and then stood from her chair.
"I'm glad you're alive, but I need to start getting what work done that I can before tonight's balls. Any chance I'll see you tonight?" she asked.
"Odds are good I'd hope. I don't know what ball I'll be attending, or would even be fitting for me but I'll be at balls the entire Marche. So if tonight doesn't work, there'll be others."
Viper's eyes narrowed while an eyebrow rose playfully, "You better not make me wait a whole week before I see you again, or you'll be racing off into Hell."
Tibia smiled back. Viper's eyebrow fell with the suddenness of a guillotine. Tibia nodded fervently at that. She understood completely.
"Let's send you on your way," Viper said.
Tibia scratched out her address for Viper while she retrieved a stopper of liquid shadow from a nearby drawer. While atypical to the form that Knotwork had derived its name from, Tibia could feel the potent flow that was stored inside it. The dropper was unsheathed and with two little presses the flow was released. Though before it could escape upon the stream, Viper had raised her mudra once more and flung the flow out beyond space to access the Travel Lattice. In moments a rounded portal existed in the middle of the room.
"Goodbye Tibia," Viper said.
"See you soon," she replied and donned her skull helm. Then proudly crossed the portal's threshold and stepped upon the translucent bridge that led to the exit coordinates she'd given Viper. One part because she needed them to use the Lattice properly. The other part because maybe Viper would want to visit her sometime. Though it was mainly for the first part, yep, mainly the first part.
Tibia enjoyed her walk home. Sure the space-between-spaces that the Travel Lattice used was chilly—a fact made evident by the way her nips could stab a man—but it was also rather cosmopolitan. All around her were an infinite number of bridges far as the eye could see. People from every civilization, from some of the Unruly Lands, from the Worlds Beyond like the many Hells and Heavens, and even those from farther still made use of the Lattice. She stopped for a moment to drink it in.
Like most, Tibia knew that while the Gift was new for the Basin—a literal Gift from Aion who held their world in their hands—there had to have been grand civilizations of mages long before now. It wasn't like they actually had tons of records of them, or at least records they could read, but rather because their theurgical ancestors had left their works behind. Pieces of magical engineering so grand and so all-encompassing as to re-shape life for everyone across nearly every realm of existence. Their number was five and their magnitude so grand as to earn them the title of Grand Wonderwork. Of which the Travel Lattice was only one. And here she was taking a stroll across like it was the most regular thing.
Tibia looked down at her hands. A re-shapened pair meant to hold tools, to work things, to build. She looked back out at the bridges before her that connected the world, the realms, everyone. Industry had shaped the world, and though her ambitions were far from that high maybe it'd let her re-shape her world just the same. A magi could wish, huh.
When Tibia made it home she found her mother on the stairs in the foyer. A blanket was wrapped around her and a cup of tea, poured by Agragor of course, floated in the air beside her.
"Moth," Tibia said, "I didn't expect to see you here."
Moth smiled softly. Rose from position and laid the blanket over Agragor's shoulder.
"Agragor, make sure to get that washed," she said.
Agragor's head crackled briefly before he strode off into the depths of the villa to attend to the laundry. The two of them, Moth and Tibia, remained in the foyer. Moth's eyes tracked the contour of Tibia's body, assessed her, and was pleased.
"You're not soft anymore," she stated.
Tibia didn't have a reply. She had stopped acknowledging those obvious provocations.
"Is that skull decorative?" Moth asked.
Tibia removed the skull. Smiled down at it. Her smile disappeared when she looked back at her mother.
"No. It's commemorative," Tibia replied.
"Of what?"
"Everything I hate about…" Tibia trailed off. How to end that sentence? Everything she hated about the Sovereignty, about Sovereigns, or about people like her mother. They were all good options.
"Hmph, I'll have Agragor give it a good treatment. There's still flesh sticking to it."
Tibia glanced back at it. There was some flesh stuck to it.
"I've left the day's invitations on your bedside table."
Tibia began her ascent up the other set of stairs in the foyer. She let the room divide the two of them.
"Tibia," Moth began, "please send me a message if you'll be out this late again."
She shook her head. "Don't act like you care, now. If I remember to, I'll write you, otherwise," Tibia closed her eyes and sighed, "treat this as practice for when you expel."
Moth's polite smile disappeared. She assessed Tibia, saw her, and shrugged.
"We all have foundations to work on. I'm pleased you're finally seeing to yours."
She left the staircase first. Her footsteps transitioned from echo to ephemeral impression as she departed for her wing of the villa. While Tibia saw to her own room.
Once the door was closed Tibia flung herself onto her bed. A scream muffled into the blankets. Emotions she thought deposited elsewhere had spilled across her mind. All the words she wanted to say but struggled to say. All the ways she hated that she wanted things from Moth even now. She knew to expect nothing, but couldn't help but still expect. Love, affection, but Moth was, as her famous technique, cold.
"Couldn't even let me have the last word," Tibia grumbled.
She snatched the invites from the table and gave them a cursory glance. Then dressed for the day. Even with much of the morning gone there was still plenty of time before tonight's events. Whilst in the shower she heard the cloying grip of a mellow tune curl upon her shoulder. The signature of it was Viper's, Tibia knew that immediately, and answered, causing the tune to materialize into a small inky shadow-imp that sat on her shoulder.
"I see you made it back home in one piece," she said.
Tibia chuckled, "Yeah, well I did my best to steer clear of any lakes along the way."
"Good girl,"
Tibia squeezed too hard and the soap shot out from her hand into her chin. She pinwheeled her arms to keep from slipping on the sudsy water of the shower.
"Anyways, just wanted to let you know I have a servitor arriving soon with some notes. What ball I'll be attending as well as a note from Decimation. Even with the whole falling in the lake thing, it seems like you impressed him. Said you can stop by the Well anytime."
"Great," Tibia said before the anxiety creeped in, "that is great right?"
She could hear Viper wave off her fears, "No idea. I've never been. Tell me how it is if you visit!"
"Sure, sure. Viper, can I ask how—" Tibia hears the song of Viper's magic cut out before she could respond. The Farspeech channel had closed and with it went the imp.
Once her shower ended, Tibia returned to her bedroom to find the servitor, a small viper made of coagulated darkness, curled up on her bed. Upon sighting her it rose and unhinged its jaw. Two scrolls pushed up from within its stomach for Tibia. She took both and watched as the snake nuzzled into the shadow of her blanket's folds before it disappeared. Tibia had to give it to Viper, the girl knew her branding.
She settled against her pillows, the scrolls unfurled, invitations laid out, and began to put together her day's itinerary.
Daytime Action: General
[ ] Visit the Sage's favorite cafe (Communion)
[ ] Check Out the Soul Forges (Industry)
[ ] Wander the City Streets (Mystery)
[ ] Visit the local cemetery (Self)
[ ] Sneak Into Your Mother's Office (Trickery)
[ ] Make A Trip to The Dueling Hall (War)
Daytime Action: Special
[ ] Take Decimation Up On His Invitation (Mystery/Industry)
[ ] Spend Some Time With Insight (Trickery/War)
[ ] Visit Hearth In The Hydra's Dream Realm (Industry/Self)
Ball Options:
[ ] Attend the Ball of Bouquet, the Blood-Storm Dancer
Rest your eyes and prime your heart/ For in the luxury of dreams shall you take part/ In a turgid night of merry dance/ Where lovers and friends are free from gossip's glance/ So come one and come all to the night's soiree/ In honor of the darling known as Bouquet.
[ ] Attend the Ball of Pyre, The One Who Seeks the Last Horizon
Tonight we honor the ascension to immortality and true responsibility to young master, Pyre, The One Who Seeks the Last Horizon. Having traveled much with famed academic and explorer, Guillotine, the Thief of Forgotten Heavens, this ball will be one of truly cosmopolitan proportions. An undoubted quality as tonight's events shall even take place in the famous Cumulus Castle!
[ ] Attend the Ball of Saber, Inheritor of the Eight Directions to Annihilation Style
In a rare event, the obsidian doors to Hell's Brass Pagoda will be opened, and all may walk the halls in attendance of Saber's ball this Endless Marche. First daughter of the Eight Directions to Annihilation Style, Saber has already displayed tremendous fortitude as she inherits the style from her late father who has died a hero battling the Seven-Jawed Serpent Queen who ruled the Forest of Gilded Knives. There she shall receive an award in his honor and take up the mantle as administrator of the Brass Pagoda. Expect drink, dance, martial displays, and a surprise event worthy of a hero.
[ ] Attend the Ball of Sunrise, the Golden-Tongued Hierophant
Held within the Cathedral That Meets God's Gaze, the ball of tonight's Endless Marche is not just a celebration of immortal selfhood, but also immortal love in celebration of Sunrise's wedding to the angel-mage, Gracious Hand Serves Food. They shall proclaim their affections and together ascend to the Peridot Heaven. All we ask is that you bring only yourselves and leave one's devils at the door.
This is the ball Viper shall be attending, as she designed the wedding dress for the groom.
***AN: Another update for you all! It's plan making time again, you know how it goes. Pick a daytime action and a ball option. Note, that you'll see we now have special Daytime actions unlocked. These will be chances for you to follow up on threads you've begun, progress character relationships, etc. They also are actions that can see you gain expertises and core expression options from a mix of Natures rather than the more focused options of the general actions. Sometimes these offerings will change, sometimes certain actions special actions might not open until other events are reached. They'll vary. For these first three, they'll be available the rest of the Endless Marche, but some of their offerings will change.
Anyways, voting will close Sunday 5PM PST. Mainly cause I have a very busy back half of this week, and since it's plan voting time y'all can have plenty of time to discuss. Have fun, magi~
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- Location
- Germany
[X] Tibia down the well.
-[X] Take Decimation Up On His Invitation (Mystery/Industry)
-[X] Attend the Ball of Sunrise, the Golden-Tongued Hierophant
Honestly, narrowing it down for the day actions was kinda hard, so I went with a mix of different natures and interesting sounding stuff. As for the balls it doesn't actually look like one is specifically marked as the one with Viper in it, so I'm going with the wedding. It fits Tibia's love centered core value and with hell and demons all around us, it strikes me as interesting to get a look at the angelic counterpart.
-[X] Take Decimation Up On His Invitation (Mystery/Industry)
-[X] Attend the Ball of Sunrise, the Golden-Tongued Hierophant
Honestly, narrowing it down for the day actions was kinda hard, so I went with a mix of different natures and interesting sounding stuff. As for the balls it doesn't actually look like one is specifically marked as the one with Viper in it, so I'm going with the wedding. It fits Tibia's love centered core value and with hell and demons all around us, it strikes me as interesting to get a look at the angelic counterpart.
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Once again, this is me having to go back and edit the post cause I missed a thing. Will put that down. Also, clarify that for plan's was trying to have there be one Daytime choice still, it's just that rather than only the general options you can choose a Special option as the daytime action (so a general or special, not general and special). I'm sorry.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Tibia down the well.
Seems fair to me.
Seems fair to me.
[X] Tibia down the well.
More of An Elevator to Heaven - Day 2.1
Tibia leaned against the lip of the fountain that stood in the city square. Ten feet tall and sculpted entirely out of volcanic rock, it depicted the deposition of some infernal prince or another. She had forgotten the story behind the statue the capped the fountain, but credit to the sculptor because even in viewing it the story was clear. A prince of Hell with an imperious face immortalized in a moment of abject terror. Their body arched backwards as if they'd fall from their pedestal into the fountain at any moment. Courtesy of the five finely sculpted spears that pierce their chest. It was a monument to the Sovereign's first victory, and as Tibia looked around the square she could only see the demonic servants scuttling this way and that who spared quick glances at the statue. For some, Tibia caught the most minute expressions of sorrow or somber resignation. What to her kin was a monument of victory was to them a monument to a future none of them had predicted when the Gift first arrived.
She didn't like this statue, but the day had been hot and a tall statue like this casts a long shadow. Sheltered within it, Tibia re-examined the directions that Viper's servitor had brought her. It said that the Well was a star nested in darkness, but it had been a few hours and Tibia had reached the last shreds of her own patience. Her mother hadn't considered taking her to any sort of temples or raising her with religion in the slightest. Which, to her defense, most parents within the Sovereignty rarely did. Yet Tibia couldn't imagine it was a good way of recruiting more people to make the place so damn difficult to locate. As she pondered this she began pacing the circumference of the fountain and let her eyes skim across the main buildings and signs. Many had been painted over multiple times, but she could tell that a few weren't quite able to cover up the previous paint jobs.
Tibia stopped. She stared at the signs hanging down into an alley and realized they all hadn't quite covered their previous paint job. Her eyes unfocused a bit as she rocked back-and-forth in midstep. When she hit just the right place where all the signs aligned she could just barely make out a star. A star made from the remnants of a previous coating. A star nestled in a dark alley.
She pocketed the instructions and hustled down the alley. When she hit another intersection of alleyways she shifted around to align the signs on each path. There, there was the star. Then she was off again. The star led her down lefts, rights, uphill, and down deep staircases. With each alignment she got faster, and her smile grew. There was a fun in solving a puzzle like this, and when she stood in front of an old stonework building with a nameplate that said, the Drunken Heaven, with a design of a star holding a mug of some brew she felt a bit wistful. The hunt had ended, but behind those doors was some grand mystery waiting for her.
She waited for a patron to leave, and slipped past them before the door closed. Her nose crinkled at the thick yeasty scent of beer that suffused the air. Her eyes scanned the room but saw only older men and women sipping from modestly sized mugs. Some of them chatted with one another, but most sat in comfortable silence as they read or fiddled at some problem within their journal. None of them were Decimation.
"Tibia, glad to see you found the place," a voice boomed. Her eyes flicked toward the bar where behind it stood Decimation, still wrinkled as a crumpled blanket, but his mouth drawn in a wide sickle smile.
She fell into an empty seat. "No help from your instructions. I mean, why make it so hard?"
Decimation whispered, "Because we are a cult. One that just happens to enjoy a bit of mystery. Makes it so those who find their way here are here because they're supposed to be here."
"You're telling me everyone here is a Well-Watcher?" Tibia asked.
"Hardly. But you'll find that like most things, those who are supposed to be anywhere are often there for reasons they couldn't have imagined."
He wiped at a spot on the bar. "Some of them are here because we need the cover. Nothing helps hide a mysterious cult than a bunch of bar regulars. While others, well, fate drew them here for a reason. Plenty of regulars later became members of the cult."
"But you're not here to talk about that," Decimation said.
"I'm not, but I can't say I know what I'm here for," Tibia said.
Decimation's eyes cracked open and revealed the same constellation within them as last time, the Eye of the Observer. "You're here to get to know me better. Maybe see if the cult can help you build that better world of yours. Congrats on raising that poor Industry connection of yours to something reaching a proper standard."
He tilted his head, "But you're also here today because you're supposed to be here today. Fate has laid her rough hands over you, child."
Tibia stared into his eyes. "Can you see the future?"
Decimation closed his eyes and shrugged. "I can see futures, plural. But the future is blinding mess of paths hanging on infinite variables. I'm much better at picking up on the past through Psychometry like most people. Though recognizing those who fate has taken a liking to, well, that's just as easy as knowing how to look."
He threw his rag over a shoulder and hooked a finger her way before taking off. Tibia slid from the stool, still unsure but intrigued, and followed behind. As if on cue, and Tibia would later believe that there was a cue sent through some Farspeech channel perhaps, another person passed them by. They were younger than Decimation, younger than her, and wordlessly snagged the towel from Decimation's shoulder to replace him at the bar. While the two of them continued on into a back storage area where barrels on barrels of beer sat waiting to be tapped. Decimation pushed past another door which led them to an open courtyard.
Tibia's Sixth Sense picked up on the potency of the courtyard immediately. Each wall might as well have been a speaker as they all emanated the same song. A song of misdirection, of forgetting, and of isolation. Most likely the result of Wards of Mystery that would push anyone to just overlook such a place existed. At the center of which stood a simple well. The diameter across was about six feet, and the whole thing was made from stacked stones. Above it was a roof six feet from the mouth of the well. The top of it was covered by a large wooden covering that rested ever so slightly above the well's mouth.
"This is the Well?" Tibia asked.
"The one and only," Decimation said with pride. He leaned against it and turned to face her. A stoic mien replaced his normal mischievousness that he emanated.
"Is this where I'm inducted?" Tibia asked.
"Maybe," Decimation said, "but half of the ritual is in being invited and actually finding this place. Were your connection to Mystery any lesser it would've been impossible. The Well doesn't want to be found. In this, the cult engages in its only defiance as we continue to assemble and plumb its mysteries despite the original creator's intentions."
Tibia nodded. "What's the other half?"
"A chat and a question. The chat is about what the Well actually is and why we defy it. See, the Well is at once a vault, a refuge, and a wonderwork."
The final word hits Tibia hard. Wonderworks were rare and pushed the bounds of magic. She glanced at the well—it had somehow grown a small patch of lichen.
"Really?"
"It's a subtle thing. Nonetheless, what the Well embodies is a source of nearly unconstrained possibility. Powerful magics that are not seen commonly amongst most peoples. As well as the remnants of those magics. Prototypes and failures of our magical ancestors that even in failure have the potential for cataclysmic impact. In this, the greatest dangers for you and the Basin, is that to even know of what exists within the Well is to engage with a potent infohazard."
He smiled softly, "Can you bear the burden of this knowledge?"
Tibia gave the question serious thought. She didn't know much about the sorts of magic that Decimation spoke of. Most of her experiences kept to the more Common Expressions of most magi, and a few that were undoubtedly less than common like Transcendence. They were, however, magics that were easy to be responsible with as they granted little control over anyone or anything else. It would be easy for her to say no and back away. Easy to recognize the coward within her and leave. There was another part of her that was much louder. The part that sought to make the world a better place for the hydra. The part that declared to Insight that she'd become greater than gods. Then, loudest of all, was the part that saw this chance to carry a burder, to carry expectation, as an opportunity to become ever more the kind of woman that Viper saw her as. She wouldn't tell anyone that this part of her was the loudest, but Tibia wanted to be able to hold her head up high when she saw her at tonight's ball. All of these thoughts raced through her mind rapidly.
"Yes," she said.
Decimation held her gaze. Held it for longer. Then he smiled, impressed by her resoluteness.
"Say hello to the Guardian then," and then his body slumped over. Tibia rushed to catch the old man so he wouldn't shatter against the cobblestone of the courtyard.
"Decimation? Decimation?" She looked around to assess her options before suddenly he shook from her grasp. His body quivered like a struck tuning fork. Then, soon as he started, he stilled.
Decimation took in a long breath that re-inflated his wrinkled body. It smoothed out his skin until taut. He reared back and Tibia jumped at the first pop of Decimation's spine re-aligning. The process was quick and revealed a new man in front of her. His skin bore the faintest wrinkles around the bridge of his nose. While the hair that had seemed to curtain him had become more akin to a great mane of hair. His eyes opened and revealed a new constellation: the Guardian.
"It seems my other self has judged you fit for duty. Let us attend to the Well." He said.
"Decimation?" Tibia asked warily.
The large man that was once Decimation smiled at her beneath his beard.
"I am the Guardian of the Lost Heaven. Whilst my other self whom you know as Decimation, is the Well's Steward. The nuances of our relationship can perhaps be elucidated later between you both. For now, you may refer to me as Guardian," Guardian said.
At that he offered Tibia his hand. She gave it and let him guide her atop the wooden platform that covered the wall. On the inner beam that held up the roof was a glyph. Guardian touched his thumb to it, and where it was once a simple carved glyph it instead glowed with an inner radiance. That same radiance surrounded the two of them as it leaked from beneath the platform. It was then that the platform began to sink down and down into the well.
They descended slowly through the darkness. Tibia felt her chest tighten as she recalled her time in the lake. Her hands groped for something and caught Guardian's hand.
"Don't worry, it's hard for everyone to enter the shadow of this world. But know that radiance exists on the other side." He said.
She took a few deep breaths that worked the knot of worry out from her chest. As if to reward her efforts the darkness broke, and was filled with celestial illumination.
They appeared inside what looked like a massive spherical space upon whose surface was an innumerable amount of stars that blazed with a pure radiance..
"The Firmament," Guardian stated, "the tapestry of the heavens made material and examinable for mortal scale and comprehension. You'll become familiar with it in time."
The phrase, "mortal scale" was to Tibia a complete lie. She saw the rendering of constellations whose size would dwarf the capitol fortress of the Sovereigns which was said to sport a hundred floors. Beyond that though, the constellations moved with the same steady pace that they would if they were in the sky proper.
In fact, the entirety of the Firmament looked to be a recreation of every sky one could see across the Basin. She knew little of the stars, but could recognize the four elemental kingdoms whose courts were made up of stars and constellations that'd only show during their respective season. Within their depths she saw the sort of celestial bodies that had never graced the territory of where she lived, so far away across the Basin were they.
All of them existed in the Firmament, and they even seemed to swim across it with depth? Some of the stars burned just a bit less bright, and others pulsed their light as if they bobbed towards and away from the surface of the night sky. Those that were in constellations had their forms revealed in artistic linework within the Firmament and moved in an animated capacity.
Tibia's eyes then turned to the very center of the space they were in. Seeming to levitate in the middle of this grand cosmic display was a glorious fortress of sweeping orichalcum arches, walls of scintillating quartz, and glass windows that were kaleidoscopic panes of stained glass. A thing of beauty to rival the stars that surrounded it.
"That, is the Celestial Observatory. We think it was once a monastery built by our ancestors long ago to study and control the stars. It sports four towers to observe the four elemental kingdoms, and a fifth tower from which sits the Orrery. Within its depths is the vault, the many libraries and laboratories, and from what I hear a very wonderful mess hall staffed by mystical servitors geared specifically towards celestially appropriate meals."
"This is amazing," Tibia said. Her Sixth Sense sang of heaven's beauty, of great fate weaving and unweaving endlessly, and quieter notes of nearly every aspect she'd heard in her life. This was the Well of Aberrant Stars, a hidden wonderwork that unveiled all the beauty of the heavens. The sort of stars that existed so far above the Basin that they'd be beyond even the most determined hydra to seek. Perhaps stars of a far different class all together.
"Beautiful yet dangerous, is the Well," Guardian said. " I know little of you save your name. An issue that my other self would have resolved eventually. But I'd enjoy our experience as Attendants to be well—"
Tibia couldn't help but snicker at the pun. Guardian even chuckled at it himself.
"To achieve this, tell me about yourself Tibia, do you find yourself enraptured in any particular field of study?" Guardian asked.
Tiba spoke, "In fact…"
Choose One:
[ ] "...I seem to always find myself studying books of history both modern and ancient." (Gain Profession: Historian 3)
[ ] "...I tend to study historical texts when I can get my hands on some." (Gain Profession: Historian 2)
[ ] "...I always find learning about history interesting, but I wouldn't say I've truly studied it." (Gain Profession: Historian 1)
[ ] "...I have a deep passion for the craft of Theurgy as it relates to Glory." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 3)
[ ] "...I enjoy tinkering on a few Theurgical pursuits when I'm able." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 2)
[ ] "...I've always had a bit of an off-and-on interest with Theurgy." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 1)
[ ] "...I'm subscribed to quite a few scholarly journals on magic!" (Gain Profession: Scholar [Glory] 3)
[ ] "...I attend lectures on magic when I can swing it." (Gain Profession: Scholar [Glory] 2)
[ ] "...I used to read magical texts on theory a lot, but haven't in quite awhile." (Gain Profession: Scholar [Glory] 1)
Guardian hums with approval. "Then you'll find that the Well has much to offer you in terms of—"
The platform they were on shuddered as a muffled explosion shook the Observatory. Suddenly the great light of the observatory dimmed. Her Sixth Sense heard the watery noise that slammed down around the building. Wards so densely layered across every nature to keep everything and everyone inside.
When their platform landed upon the oricalchum "dock" that stretched down from the observatory itself, what stood before them was a modest company of metallic automatons made from the same metallic curves and swoops as the observatory itself. Though theirs was a silvery metal reminiscent of starlight reflected upon the night's dew. As ethereal as the metal's appearance was they were not. Eight feet tall and equipped with halberds that stood at a cross to the two of them.
Guardian marched forward. "What's happened?"
"Lock-down. An aberrant has breached containment. All shall be turned back, and upon refusal to leave shall be met with force." The automatons said in chilling unison.
Guardian examined the lift as did Tibia, and where before she could barely make out a transparent "tube"-like structure that guided the platform she no longer could see anything. The inscribed glyphs that surrounded the landing area for the platform was dim. There was no turning back.
Guardian said, "Why is the platform inoperable?"
"Return back, or be met with force." They declared.
"The platform is inoperable!"
"Return—" they said, but Guardian had whirled back toward Tibia.
"What do we do?" Tibia asked.
Guardian breathed in deep and then exhaled. From the Red Space he removed gladius with a glowing constellation tracing the spine of the blade.
"Our jobs. Though you have only just been inducted, this is what it means to Attend to the Well in return for its many secrets. While I would otherwise have us return another day, we must solve this problem now lest the worst come to pass."
He turned back toward the automata. "As it already seems to be in the process. Normally these Security servitors would attend to the interior of the observatory, but someone sent them here. No doubt to stop me from whatever they planned. As such, I'll have to deal with the automata here before I can address anything else."
"What should I do?" Tibia asked.
Guardian thought only for a moment. "There are three priorities in the case that an Aberrant breaks containment. First, secure the Orrery. If we lose the Orrery than our problems become much much worse. Second, establish connection with the research team. They have a central evac point in the mess hall, and bluntly were we to lose them we'd be forced to reset much of our progress in deciphering the Well's mysteries. Third, assess the vault and see which Aberrant has broken containment. Undoubtedly, this is one of the more dangerous tasks requiring that you brave the potential infohazards within so we can activate the appropriate contingency. Each task is important and each would require different magical skills from you."
Tibia said, "I'll…"
Choose One:
[ ] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[ ] "...find the research team!" (Gain Core Expression: Spirit-Walking (Mystery))
[ ] "...head to the vault and figure out what escaped!" (Gain Core Expression: Psychometry (Mystery))
Guardian hefted the gladius and in a single strike removed his hand. As it fell he bounced it off his inner heel into Tibia's chest. Who fumbled with it for a moment before she secured it in her grasp.
"My hand will open the emergency access door as well as any other passageways needed. I'll also be able to open a Farspeech channel with you. Report to me anything you discover. Now, on the count of three, run. One."
Tibia stared out into the legion of automata. She didn't know how she'd cross the lot of them. Maybe she should've made a wish to make her more of a warrior.
"Two."
She took centering breaths and fell into acceptance. She had wanted responsibility. What better than potentially saving the day?
"Three."
Tibia ran forward toward the automata horde. The horde leveled their halberds at her. They were unmoving, they were legion, and she was so not ready for this. She spared one last look backward and saw Guardian raise his gladius, so frail against the expanse of the Firmament, and with an almost lazy motion bring it down in a simple chop. With that single chop, a constellation swam to the fore of the Firmament above them with the joy of a shark come to rend its prey.
The Lord of Interregnum. Lo, beware the Lord of Interregnum when it appears in the heavens for armageddon marches beneath its banner. And lo, Guardian did release armageddon. As starlight swords the size of houses descended upon the docks to batter the automata horde. Amidst the chaos and devastation was Tibia who ran with his hand clutched to her chest as she screamed her soul out.
"Responsibility sucks!"
***AN: Another 10PM and another update, lol. Why is this becoming my time. Anyways, hope you like the Well of Aberrant Stars! For some quick mechanical explanations. Of your Expression options.
Conjuration: An Industry expression that'll let you literally conjure objects, items, and if you have some of the time, even conjure up entire living creatures. It won't let you conjure up literally everything as you're bound to your personal canon (the prototype of an item you hold in your mind) and the consensual canon of the place you're in (still technically the Sovereign city you call home). Beyond this tho, remember you have a lovely passive with your Geometry path making it so you can scale up your conjurations freely.
Spirit-Walking: A Mystery expression that'll let you move unseen, undetected, and literally through walls and other potential hazards. Great for, ya know, not dying and running away or being stealthy.
Psychometry: A Mystery expression perfect for letting you examine the history of an object, place, or person through the psychic impressions left upon it. With how good Tibia is with Mystery, you'll be able to look back in time up to a month easily and can get faint traces up to no more than a year.
Anyways, each mission option will make use of one of these heavily and as such you'll gain it as a Core Expression.
As for the Expertise options further above they're as follows:
Historian will be just that, let you be someone who has studied history. All of their tasks are specialized, so if you're lacking this one trying to decipher historical events, puzzles, riddles, etc. will be pretty hard.
Scholar is a profession focusing on the theoretical parts of magic. Like Theurge, you're a scholar of a specific Fount of magic. With it you'll be able to create hypotheses, experiments, do analysis of flow, etc.
Theurge is a profession that's the magical engineer to the Scholar's magical theorist. With it you are adept at creating designs for magical tools and new Expressions that fall under your Fount. Great for designing magical infrastructure as a big example.
Now, with that out of the way. Voting for this will end Wednesday at 4PM PST. Have fun reading, my magi and see you later~
P.S. I'm gonna try this approval voting thing someone mentioned earlier. So uh, if you're really tied between options feel free to vote for like your top two out of the choices. Otherwise, place a vote for what Expertise you want and what mission+expression you want.
She didn't like this statue, but the day had been hot and a tall statue like this casts a long shadow. Sheltered within it, Tibia re-examined the directions that Viper's servitor had brought her. It said that the Well was a star nested in darkness, but it had been a few hours and Tibia had reached the last shreds of her own patience. Her mother hadn't considered taking her to any sort of temples or raising her with religion in the slightest. Which, to her defense, most parents within the Sovereignty rarely did. Yet Tibia couldn't imagine it was a good way of recruiting more people to make the place so damn difficult to locate. As she pondered this she began pacing the circumference of the fountain and let her eyes skim across the main buildings and signs. Many had been painted over multiple times, but she could tell that a few weren't quite able to cover up the previous paint jobs.
Tibia stopped. She stared at the signs hanging down into an alley and realized they all hadn't quite covered their previous paint job. Her eyes unfocused a bit as she rocked back-and-forth in midstep. When she hit just the right place where all the signs aligned she could just barely make out a star. A star made from the remnants of a previous coating. A star nestled in a dark alley.
She pocketed the instructions and hustled down the alley. When she hit another intersection of alleyways she shifted around to align the signs on each path. There, there was the star. Then she was off again. The star led her down lefts, rights, uphill, and down deep staircases. With each alignment she got faster, and her smile grew. There was a fun in solving a puzzle like this, and when she stood in front of an old stonework building with a nameplate that said, the Drunken Heaven, with a design of a star holding a mug of some brew she felt a bit wistful. The hunt had ended, but behind those doors was some grand mystery waiting for her.
She waited for a patron to leave, and slipped past them before the door closed. Her nose crinkled at the thick yeasty scent of beer that suffused the air. Her eyes scanned the room but saw only older men and women sipping from modestly sized mugs. Some of them chatted with one another, but most sat in comfortable silence as they read or fiddled at some problem within their journal. None of them were Decimation.
"Tibia, glad to see you found the place," a voice boomed. Her eyes flicked toward the bar where behind it stood Decimation, still wrinkled as a crumpled blanket, but his mouth drawn in a wide sickle smile.
She fell into an empty seat. "No help from your instructions. I mean, why make it so hard?"
Decimation whispered, "Because we are a cult. One that just happens to enjoy a bit of mystery. Makes it so those who find their way here are here because they're supposed to be here."
"You're telling me everyone here is a Well-Watcher?" Tibia asked.
"Hardly. But you'll find that like most things, those who are supposed to be anywhere are often there for reasons they couldn't have imagined."
He wiped at a spot on the bar. "Some of them are here because we need the cover. Nothing helps hide a mysterious cult than a bunch of bar regulars. While others, well, fate drew them here for a reason. Plenty of regulars later became members of the cult."
"But you're not here to talk about that," Decimation said.
"I'm not, but I can't say I know what I'm here for," Tibia said.
Decimation's eyes cracked open and revealed the same constellation within them as last time, the Eye of the Observer. "You're here to get to know me better. Maybe see if the cult can help you build that better world of yours. Congrats on raising that poor Industry connection of yours to something reaching a proper standard."
He tilted his head, "But you're also here today because you're supposed to be here today. Fate has laid her rough hands over you, child."
Tibia stared into his eyes. "Can you see the future?"
Decimation closed his eyes and shrugged. "I can see futures, plural. But the future is blinding mess of paths hanging on infinite variables. I'm much better at picking up on the past through Psychometry like most people. Though recognizing those who fate has taken a liking to, well, that's just as easy as knowing how to look."
He threw his rag over a shoulder and hooked a finger her way before taking off. Tibia slid from the stool, still unsure but intrigued, and followed behind. As if on cue, and Tibia would later believe that there was a cue sent through some Farspeech channel perhaps, another person passed them by. They were younger than Decimation, younger than her, and wordlessly snagged the towel from Decimation's shoulder to replace him at the bar. While the two of them continued on into a back storage area where barrels on barrels of beer sat waiting to be tapped. Decimation pushed past another door which led them to an open courtyard.
Tibia's Sixth Sense picked up on the potency of the courtyard immediately. Each wall might as well have been a speaker as they all emanated the same song. A song of misdirection, of forgetting, and of isolation. Most likely the result of Wards of Mystery that would push anyone to just overlook such a place existed. At the center of which stood a simple well. The diameter across was about six feet, and the whole thing was made from stacked stones. Above it was a roof six feet from the mouth of the well. The top of it was covered by a large wooden covering that rested ever so slightly above the well's mouth.
"This is the Well?" Tibia asked.
"The one and only," Decimation said with pride. He leaned against it and turned to face her. A stoic mien replaced his normal mischievousness that he emanated.
"Is this where I'm inducted?" Tibia asked.
"Maybe," Decimation said, "but half of the ritual is in being invited and actually finding this place. Were your connection to Mystery any lesser it would've been impossible. The Well doesn't want to be found. In this, the cult engages in its only defiance as we continue to assemble and plumb its mysteries despite the original creator's intentions."
Tibia nodded. "What's the other half?"
"A chat and a question. The chat is about what the Well actually is and why we defy it. See, the Well is at once a vault, a refuge, and a wonderwork."
The final word hits Tibia hard. Wonderworks were rare and pushed the bounds of magic. She glanced at the well—it had somehow grown a small patch of lichen.
"Really?"
"It's a subtle thing. Nonetheless, what the Well embodies is a source of nearly unconstrained possibility. Powerful magics that are not seen commonly amongst most peoples. As well as the remnants of those magics. Prototypes and failures of our magical ancestors that even in failure have the potential for cataclysmic impact. In this, the greatest dangers for you and the Basin, is that to even know of what exists within the Well is to engage with a potent infohazard."
He smiled softly, "Can you bear the burden of this knowledge?"
Tibia gave the question serious thought. She didn't know much about the sorts of magic that Decimation spoke of. Most of her experiences kept to the more Common Expressions of most magi, and a few that were undoubtedly less than common like Transcendence. They were, however, magics that were easy to be responsible with as they granted little control over anyone or anything else. It would be easy for her to say no and back away. Easy to recognize the coward within her and leave. There was another part of her that was much louder. The part that sought to make the world a better place for the hydra. The part that declared to Insight that she'd become greater than gods. Then, loudest of all, was the part that saw this chance to carry a burder, to carry expectation, as an opportunity to become ever more the kind of woman that Viper saw her as. She wouldn't tell anyone that this part of her was the loudest, but Tibia wanted to be able to hold her head up high when she saw her at tonight's ball. All of these thoughts raced through her mind rapidly.
"Yes," she said.
Decimation held her gaze. Held it for longer. Then he smiled, impressed by her resoluteness.
"Say hello to the Guardian then," and then his body slumped over. Tibia rushed to catch the old man so he wouldn't shatter against the cobblestone of the courtyard.
"Decimation? Decimation?" She looked around to assess her options before suddenly he shook from her grasp. His body quivered like a struck tuning fork. Then, soon as he started, he stilled.
Decimation took in a long breath that re-inflated his wrinkled body. It smoothed out his skin until taut. He reared back and Tibia jumped at the first pop of Decimation's spine re-aligning. The process was quick and revealed a new man in front of her. His skin bore the faintest wrinkles around the bridge of his nose. While the hair that had seemed to curtain him had become more akin to a great mane of hair. His eyes opened and revealed a new constellation: the Guardian.
"It seems my other self has judged you fit for duty. Let us attend to the Well." He said.
"Decimation?" Tibia asked warily.
The large man that was once Decimation smiled at her beneath his beard.
"I am the Guardian of the Lost Heaven. Whilst my other self whom you know as Decimation, is the Well's Steward. The nuances of our relationship can perhaps be elucidated later between you both. For now, you may refer to me as Guardian," Guardian said.
At that he offered Tibia his hand. She gave it and let him guide her atop the wooden platform that covered the wall. On the inner beam that held up the roof was a glyph. Guardian touched his thumb to it, and where it was once a simple carved glyph it instead glowed with an inner radiance. That same radiance surrounded the two of them as it leaked from beneath the platform. It was then that the platform began to sink down and down into the well.
They descended slowly through the darkness. Tibia felt her chest tighten as she recalled her time in the lake. Her hands groped for something and caught Guardian's hand.
"Don't worry, it's hard for everyone to enter the shadow of this world. But know that radiance exists on the other side." He said.
She took a few deep breaths that worked the knot of worry out from her chest. As if to reward her efforts the darkness broke, and was filled with celestial illumination.
They appeared inside what looked like a massive spherical space upon whose surface was an innumerable amount of stars that blazed with a pure radiance..
"The Firmament," Guardian stated, "the tapestry of the heavens made material and examinable for mortal scale and comprehension. You'll become familiar with it in time."
The phrase, "mortal scale" was to Tibia a complete lie. She saw the rendering of constellations whose size would dwarf the capitol fortress of the Sovereigns which was said to sport a hundred floors. Beyond that though, the constellations moved with the same steady pace that they would if they were in the sky proper.
In fact, the entirety of the Firmament looked to be a recreation of every sky one could see across the Basin. She knew little of the stars, but could recognize the four elemental kingdoms whose courts were made up of stars and constellations that'd only show during their respective season. Within their depths she saw the sort of celestial bodies that had never graced the territory of where she lived, so far away across the Basin were they.
All of them existed in the Firmament, and they even seemed to swim across it with depth? Some of the stars burned just a bit less bright, and others pulsed their light as if they bobbed towards and away from the surface of the night sky. Those that were in constellations had their forms revealed in artistic linework within the Firmament and moved in an animated capacity.
Tibia's eyes then turned to the very center of the space they were in. Seeming to levitate in the middle of this grand cosmic display was a glorious fortress of sweeping orichalcum arches, walls of scintillating quartz, and glass windows that were kaleidoscopic panes of stained glass. A thing of beauty to rival the stars that surrounded it.
"That, is the Celestial Observatory. We think it was once a monastery built by our ancestors long ago to study and control the stars. It sports four towers to observe the four elemental kingdoms, and a fifth tower from which sits the Orrery. Within its depths is the vault, the many libraries and laboratories, and from what I hear a very wonderful mess hall staffed by mystical servitors geared specifically towards celestially appropriate meals."
"This is amazing," Tibia said. Her Sixth Sense sang of heaven's beauty, of great fate weaving and unweaving endlessly, and quieter notes of nearly every aspect she'd heard in her life. This was the Well of Aberrant Stars, a hidden wonderwork that unveiled all the beauty of the heavens. The sort of stars that existed so far above the Basin that they'd be beyond even the most determined hydra to seek. Perhaps stars of a far different class all together.
"Beautiful yet dangerous, is the Well," Guardian said. " I know little of you save your name. An issue that my other self would have resolved eventually. But I'd enjoy our experience as Attendants to be well—"
Tibia couldn't help but snicker at the pun. Guardian even chuckled at it himself.
"To achieve this, tell me about yourself Tibia, do you find yourself enraptured in any particular field of study?" Guardian asked.
Tiba spoke, "In fact…"
Choose One:
[ ] "...I seem to always find myself studying books of history both modern and ancient." (Gain Profession: Historian 3)
[ ] "...I tend to study historical texts when I can get my hands on some." (Gain Profession: Historian 2)
[ ] "...I always find learning about history interesting, but I wouldn't say I've truly studied it." (Gain Profession: Historian 1)
[ ] "...I have a deep passion for the craft of Theurgy as it relates to Glory." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 3)
[ ] "...I enjoy tinkering on a few Theurgical pursuits when I'm able." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 2)
[ ] "...I've always had a bit of an off-and-on interest with Theurgy." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 1)
[ ] "...I'm subscribed to quite a few scholarly journals on magic!" (Gain Profession: Scholar [Glory] 3)
[ ] "...I attend lectures on magic when I can swing it." (Gain Profession: Scholar [Glory] 2)
[ ] "...I used to read magical texts on theory a lot, but haven't in quite awhile." (Gain Profession: Scholar [Glory] 1)
Guardian hums with approval. "Then you'll find that the Well has much to offer you in terms of—"
The platform they were on shuddered as a muffled explosion shook the Observatory. Suddenly the great light of the observatory dimmed. Her Sixth Sense heard the watery noise that slammed down around the building. Wards so densely layered across every nature to keep everything and everyone inside.
When their platform landed upon the oricalchum "dock" that stretched down from the observatory itself, what stood before them was a modest company of metallic automatons made from the same metallic curves and swoops as the observatory itself. Though theirs was a silvery metal reminiscent of starlight reflected upon the night's dew. As ethereal as the metal's appearance was they were not. Eight feet tall and equipped with halberds that stood at a cross to the two of them.
Guardian marched forward. "What's happened?"
"Lock-down. An aberrant has breached containment. All shall be turned back, and upon refusal to leave shall be met with force." The automatons said in chilling unison.
Guardian examined the lift as did Tibia, and where before she could barely make out a transparent "tube"-like structure that guided the platform she no longer could see anything. The inscribed glyphs that surrounded the landing area for the platform was dim. There was no turning back.
Guardian said, "Why is the platform inoperable?"
"Return back, or be met with force." They declared.
"The platform is inoperable!"
"Return—" they said, but Guardian had whirled back toward Tibia.
"What do we do?" Tibia asked.
Guardian breathed in deep and then exhaled. From the Red Space he removed gladius with a glowing constellation tracing the spine of the blade.
"Our jobs. Though you have only just been inducted, this is what it means to Attend to the Well in return for its many secrets. While I would otherwise have us return another day, we must solve this problem now lest the worst come to pass."
He turned back toward the automata. "As it already seems to be in the process. Normally these Security servitors would attend to the interior of the observatory, but someone sent them here. No doubt to stop me from whatever they planned. As such, I'll have to deal with the automata here before I can address anything else."
"What should I do?" Tibia asked.
Guardian thought only for a moment. "There are three priorities in the case that an Aberrant breaks containment. First, secure the Orrery. If we lose the Orrery than our problems become much much worse. Second, establish connection with the research team. They have a central evac point in the mess hall, and bluntly were we to lose them we'd be forced to reset much of our progress in deciphering the Well's mysteries. Third, assess the vault and see which Aberrant has broken containment. Undoubtedly, this is one of the more dangerous tasks requiring that you brave the potential infohazards within so we can activate the appropriate contingency. Each task is important and each would require different magical skills from you."
Tibia said, "I'll…"
Choose One:
[ ] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[ ] "...find the research team!" (Gain Core Expression: Spirit-Walking (Mystery))
[ ] "...head to the vault and figure out what escaped!" (Gain Core Expression: Psychometry (Mystery))
Guardian hefted the gladius and in a single strike removed his hand. As it fell he bounced it off his inner heel into Tibia's chest. Who fumbled with it for a moment before she secured it in her grasp.
"My hand will open the emergency access door as well as any other passageways needed. I'll also be able to open a Farspeech channel with you. Report to me anything you discover. Now, on the count of three, run. One."
Tibia stared out into the legion of automata. She didn't know how she'd cross the lot of them. Maybe she should've made a wish to make her more of a warrior.
"Two."
She took centering breaths and fell into acceptance. She had wanted responsibility. What better than potentially saving the day?
"Three."
Tibia ran forward toward the automata horde. The horde leveled their halberds at her. They were unmoving, they were legion, and she was so not ready for this. She spared one last look backward and saw Guardian raise his gladius, so frail against the expanse of the Firmament, and with an almost lazy motion bring it down in a simple chop. With that single chop, a constellation swam to the fore of the Firmament above them with the joy of a shark come to rend its prey.
The Lord of Interregnum. Lo, beware the Lord of Interregnum when it appears in the heavens for armageddon marches beneath its banner. And lo, Guardian did release armageddon. As starlight swords the size of houses descended upon the docks to batter the automata horde. Amidst the chaos and devastation was Tibia who ran with his hand clutched to her chest as she screamed her soul out.
"Responsibility sucks!"
***AN: Another 10PM and another update, lol. Why is this becoming my time. Anyways, hope you like the Well of Aberrant Stars! For some quick mechanical explanations. Of your Expression options.
Conjuration: An Industry expression that'll let you literally conjure objects, items, and if you have some of the time, even conjure up entire living creatures. It won't let you conjure up literally everything as you're bound to your personal canon (the prototype of an item you hold in your mind) and the consensual canon of the place you're in (still technically the Sovereign city you call home). Beyond this tho, remember you have a lovely passive with your Geometry path making it so you can scale up your conjurations freely.
Spirit-Walking: A Mystery expression that'll let you move unseen, undetected, and literally through walls and other potential hazards. Great for, ya know, not dying and running away or being stealthy.
Psychometry: A Mystery expression perfect for letting you examine the history of an object, place, or person through the psychic impressions left upon it. With how good Tibia is with Mystery, you'll be able to look back in time up to a month easily and can get faint traces up to no more than a year.
Anyways, each mission option will make use of one of these heavily and as such you'll gain it as a Core Expression.
As for the Expertise options further above they're as follows:
Historian will be just that, let you be someone who has studied history. All of their tasks are specialized, so if you're lacking this one trying to decipher historical events, puzzles, riddles, etc. will be pretty hard.
Scholar is a profession focusing on the theoretical parts of magic. Like Theurge, you're a scholar of a specific Fount of magic. With it you'll be able to create hypotheses, experiments, do analysis of flow, etc.
Theurge is a profession that's the magical engineer to the Scholar's magical theorist. With it you are adept at creating designs for magical tools and new Expressions that fall under your Fount. Great for designing magical infrastructure as a big example.
Now, with that out of the way. Voting for this will end Wednesday at 4PM PST. Have fun reading, my magi and see you later~
P.S. I'm gonna try this approval voting thing someone mentioned earlier. So uh, if you're really tied between options feel free to vote for like your top two out of the choices. Otherwise, place a vote for what Expertise you want and what mission+expression you want.
Look at us, barely leaving home and tied with dangerous cults already!
[X] "...I have a deep passion for the craft of Theurgy as it relates to Glory." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 3)
I feel like magical engineering feels appropriate given our goals, but not yet sure about the scale.
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
Because sometimes you need blunt tool wielded with brute force.
[X] "...I have a deep passion for the craft of Theurgy as it relates to Glory." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 3)
I feel like magical engineering feels appropriate given our goals, but not yet sure about the scale.
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
Because sometimes you need blunt tool wielded with brute force.
- Location
- Germany
[X] "...I enjoy tinkering on a few Theurgical pursuits when I'm able." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 2)
[X] "...I've always had a bit of an off-and-on interest with Theurgy." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 1)
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[X] "...find the research team!" (Gain Core Expression: Spirit-Walking (Mystery))
Ho boy, this sure is an introduction to the well, both in terms of the beauty of mystery and things going sideways. (Although, given the timing I wouldn't be totally shocked if this whole thing is staged.)
As for the options to vote on, theurge sounds neat, but I'm not sure about giving it our one level three expertise, given Tibia just really kicked up her Industry. As for the mission/expression, I'm torn between rescuing the research team with spirit-walking sounding more like her, but also conjuration sounds pretty neat as a form of magic to have.
[X] "...I've always had a bit of an off-and-on interest with Theurgy." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 1)
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[X] "...find the research team!" (Gain Core Expression: Spirit-Walking (Mystery))
Ho boy, this sure is an introduction to the well, both in terms of the beauty of mystery and things going sideways. (Although, given the timing I wouldn't be totally shocked if this whole thing is staged.)
As for the options to vote on, theurge sounds neat, but I'm not sure about giving it our one level three expertise, given Tibia just really kicked up her Industry. As for the mission/expression, I'm torn between rescuing the research team with spirit-walking sounding more like her, but also conjuration sounds pretty neat as a form of magic to have.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] "...I have a deep passion for the craft of Theurgy as it relates to Glory." (Gain Profession: Theurge [Glory] 3)
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[X] "...I always find learning about history interesting, but I wouldn't say I've truly studied it." (Gain Profession: Historian 1)
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
[X] "...secure the Orrery!" (Gain Core Expression: Conjuration (Industry))
The Power of A Library Card - Day 2.2
Tibia slammed Guardian's severed hand against the grand double doors. From the fingertips outward a series of concentric rings appeared around the hand. Like a dial, they spun rapidly before they slammed into place. Across the five rings were a series of symbols that Tibia could barely parse on a good day. Let alone when oblivion stomped behind her and a steady rain of automaton parts pelted the door and walls of the Celestial Observatory. Though she could hazard through the mental fog of terror that the rings referenced the Guardian's star chart.
In the end she didn't spare an extra second on thinking it through because the five rings suddenly glowed with the same ice-blue stellar light. A much smaller rectangle—a door within a door—manifested before her, and Tibia, no longer held up against the immovable face of the Observatory, fell inside.
The flooring of the Celestial Observatory was a glittering marble that, from Tibia's position sprawled out as she was, reminded her of the flooring of friend's estates she'd visited back when she had had friends. Unwilling to meditate on what that meant to her, she stretched up from the floor and "assessed" her surroundings.
The entry-hall of the Celestial Observatory was like standing in the bones of some ancient leviathan. Great rib-like pillars flowed up the walls before arching out to support the vaulted ceiling. Her landing, her footsteps, and even her breathing echoed around in the cavernous space like a sonic avalanche that landed back upon her. Impressing how empty it was of people who no doubt made music with their polite chats and quick footsteps in its more peaceful past. However, empty of people did not mean empty, as a grand stele of obsidian which sported a complex relief of silver and gold upon its face dominated the center of the entry-hall.
Tibia drew close to the stele and noted that it levitated atop a simple wooden platform that stood humbly out of place with how metal and stone dominated the Observatory's design. In front of the platform was a placard on bronze standee that said: The Stele of Star-work, the gift from those who came before to those who will come after.
She wanted to stay and examine the stele. To trace with her eyes the detailed metalwork and understand better the gift these supposed ancestors had left her. Tibia turned her head though, she was neither a linguist nor a historian, so the idea that with such a cursory glance she'd be able to decipher whatever mysteries this stele promised was beyond her. It was in turning away from the stele that she spotted two signs she could read. They sported the words: Library and Information Desk with clear arrows that pointed up a nearby staircase. She followed them.
The stairs stretched up before curving outwards from the entry-hall. Tibia glanced back down toward the hall to try and shove one last glimpse of beauty into her eyes, but at the first curve a wall slid into the way to block her vision. When she ascended the final step she really wished she got that last glimpse.
Before Tibia noted the impossible size of the library which stretched past the edge of sight or the sprawling bridges that stretched from bookshelf to bookshelf like some archival treehouse, she saw the remains. Remains, because there was hardly enough pieces to put a whole body together. Puddles of blood, still slick upon the marble floor, mobbed around fingers and toes, tongues and eyes, and beneath patches of skin left behind by someone who tried to mop up their mess but only made it worse. She wanted to shut her eyes, but that wouldn't quiet her Sixth Sense.
It sang—why did it always have to sing?—of bitter ends and great pyres to greater works. Of the animals, because even as magi that was what we were, that would fight to be free of a tar pit they themselves had made before sinking into inevitable oblivion. Though the song promised at least a crescendo for those who remained could remember and make history, it promised the beauty of ARMAGEDDON.
Beneath that exultant and destructive requiem to all of creation, Tibia heard the smaller sounds of whispering hopeful souls.
"Healing," was the request that reached out to her. It was a simple request, but the conditions were impossible as it stood. Their parts were so mangled and diffused, she'd save more time regrowing their bodies from the pieces. For those souls that had wandered off already or required bespoke body not regrown from a flesh or soul sample, she'd need someone who could manipulate the Uncountable Spinners of Silver Thread so the souls could be bound to the new flesh. Of course, there were stories of magi capable of Healing someone beyond the edge of death, but if they were true than those were prodigies whose understanding of Communion lay beyond the very edge of modern knowledge. Regardless, all these solutions to their simple request required an amount of time she didn't have.
Tibia stepped over the pieces. She grimaced as the blood rose up around her sandals to tickle her toes. She did her best to ignore the cries of those souls she couldn't aid. This was the dark truth of Immortality. Given enough time you could heal, you could step back into life again and again, all the while ignoring the call of whatever afterlife would seek to claim you. But Immortality wasn't indestructibility, and no one could say how long the road back to living could actually be. Tibia unconsciously hugged herself as she recalled the cold of the lake.
When she found her way to whatever was the center of the library she noted the fleet of tables that sported abandoned towers of books. Some were even left open, unfortunate, as those saw their pages drenched in the blood of their readers. All over the table skittered dog-sized automata that resembled hermit crabs. They plucked books from tables and slotted them into the mini-shelves upon their backs before hurrying off to re-home the left behind literature.
Tibia did her best to give the automata a wide berth, unwilling to chance that an encounter with them wouldn't summon their larger halberd wielding siblings to her location. She picked her way across the reading area toward the Information Desk where another stele stood. Though this one promised no mystical secrets. Instead, it was a simple painted map that detailed the Observatory grounds. It even had a cute star with the words, "You are here," next to it to mark her position.
"Where are you trying to go?" a squeaky woman's voice asked.
Tibia whirled around immediately. Leaning over the information desk was a transparent woman with circular glasses that framed wide innocent eyes, a smooth pebble nose, and a mouth ever so slightly puckered. All together creating the image of a woman ready at any point to cry if you said so much as a harsh word her way. The woman passed through the desk—a phantom then, Tibia noted—and revealed a dress made of night-sky that obscured the rest of her body.
"May I ask who you are, first?" Tibia choked out. Her eyes glanced toward the crowd of book-shelving automata that had stilled in their administrations to instead flank the spirit.
"A Librarian. Though you might best consider me an Archival Servitor. I and my sisters in the other towers have been with the Celestial Observatory for a long time. So, please, let me help you."
"Well, I'm trying to find my way through to the central tower. To reach the Orrery."
The Librarian shook her head. Her phantasmal hair swished with her before re-settling into its cute bob.
"The way there is easy enough. You can take the bridge that leads from here to the middle of the Central Tower, or you can exit back to the Entry-Hall and cross the central quadrangle to enter at its base. Still, you'd never get inside," the Librarian said.
"Why not?" Tibia asked.
"You'd need the proper identification. The Orrery is only accessible by those initiated into the Mysteries of the Fifth Heaven, or a member of the Black Sun's office staff."
Tibia offered a weak smile and lifted up Guardian's hand.
"I can't necessarily say I'm a member of either, but the Guardian of the Lost Heaven said that this could open any of the doors."
The Librarian's eyes narrowed as she seemed to actually look at Tibia's face.
"That would not be following appropriate protocol. If you're uninitiated you should not be entering. Let alone sporting the stolen hand of the Guardian."
"Stolen! He gave this to me, and if you haven't noticed things aren't normal right now. Do you even see the mess whatever had passed through here made of your library?"
The Librarian glanced at the bodies. One of them, really just a torso, slipped from its chair to flop against the ground. She looked back to Tibia and shrugged.
"We don't prejudice against the living or the dead that seek knowledge insofar as they have the proper identification. Of which, they do. Now, if you'd like I could give you the proper identification upon your relinquishment of the Guardian's hand until I could prove the veracity of your information. Otherwise, I will be forced to see you removed from the librarian post-haste by the Security Legion."
Tibia clutched the Guardian's hand for support as she weighed her options. Time was ticking down, and with how the blood had yet to grown tacky meant that she was right on the tail of whatever had passed through here. She could potentially catch this thing. But she recalled the size of those security automata outside, the unflagging determination to stall her and the Guardian, getting them off of her back would be ideal. Still, what to do?
Choose One:
[ ] Hand over the Guardian's hand, but receive proper identification.
[ ] Make a break for the Library Bridge that connects to the middle of the Central Tower.
[ ] Exit the Library and cross the Quad to the base of the Central Tower.
[ ] Make your argument to the Librarian that sometimes protocol has to be bent. This will require a Conflict.
***AN: A bit of a smaller update for this one, just cause there's gonna be more than a few choices for this little adventure. Mayhaps because there's a lot of potential goodies to take advantage of? Who can say. Anyways, hope you enjoy. I'll be following this up with the character sheet for the Librarian (for those who want to vote for the Conflict option). Again, always here to answer clarifying questions, chat, etc.
Voting will end Sunday 1PM PST.
In the end she didn't spare an extra second on thinking it through because the five rings suddenly glowed with the same ice-blue stellar light. A much smaller rectangle—a door within a door—manifested before her, and Tibia, no longer held up against the immovable face of the Observatory, fell inside.
The flooring of the Celestial Observatory was a glittering marble that, from Tibia's position sprawled out as she was, reminded her of the flooring of friend's estates she'd visited back when she had had friends. Unwilling to meditate on what that meant to her, she stretched up from the floor and "assessed" her surroundings.
The entry-hall of the Celestial Observatory was like standing in the bones of some ancient leviathan. Great rib-like pillars flowed up the walls before arching out to support the vaulted ceiling. Her landing, her footsteps, and even her breathing echoed around in the cavernous space like a sonic avalanche that landed back upon her. Impressing how empty it was of people who no doubt made music with their polite chats and quick footsteps in its more peaceful past. However, empty of people did not mean empty, as a grand stele of obsidian which sported a complex relief of silver and gold upon its face dominated the center of the entry-hall.
Tibia drew close to the stele and noted that it levitated atop a simple wooden platform that stood humbly out of place with how metal and stone dominated the Observatory's design. In front of the platform was a placard on bronze standee that said: The Stele of Star-work, the gift from those who came before to those who will come after.
She wanted to stay and examine the stele. To trace with her eyes the detailed metalwork and understand better the gift these supposed ancestors had left her. Tibia turned her head though, she was neither a linguist nor a historian, so the idea that with such a cursory glance she'd be able to decipher whatever mysteries this stele promised was beyond her. It was in turning away from the stele that she spotted two signs she could read. They sported the words: Library and Information Desk with clear arrows that pointed up a nearby staircase. She followed them.
The stairs stretched up before curving outwards from the entry-hall. Tibia glanced back down toward the hall to try and shove one last glimpse of beauty into her eyes, but at the first curve a wall slid into the way to block her vision. When she ascended the final step she really wished she got that last glimpse.
Before Tibia noted the impossible size of the library which stretched past the edge of sight or the sprawling bridges that stretched from bookshelf to bookshelf like some archival treehouse, she saw the remains. Remains, because there was hardly enough pieces to put a whole body together. Puddles of blood, still slick upon the marble floor, mobbed around fingers and toes, tongues and eyes, and beneath patches of skin left behind by someone who tried to mop up their mess but only made it worse. She wanted to shut her eyes, but that wouldn't quiet her Sixth Sense.
It sang—why did it always have to sing?—of bitter ends and great pyres to greater works. Of the animals, because even as magi that was what we were, that would fight to be free of a tar pit they themselves had made before sinking into inevitable oblivion. Though the song promised at least a crescendo for those who remained could remember and make history, it promised the beauty of ARMAGEDDON.
Beneath that exultant and destructive requiem to all of creation, Tibia heard the smaller sounds of whispering hopeful souls.
"Healing," was the request that reached out to her. It was a simple request, but the conditions were impossible as it stood. Their parts were so mangled and diffused, she'd save more time regrowing their bodies from the pieces. For those souls that had wandered off already or required bespoke body not regrown from a flesh or soul sample, she'd need someone who could manipulate the Uncountable Spinners of Silver Thread so the souls could be bound to the new flesh. Of course, there were stories of magi capable of Healing someone beyond the edge of death, but if they were true than those were prodigies whose understanding of Communion lay beyond the very edge of modern knowledge. Regardless, all these solutions to their simple request required an amount of time she didn't have.
Tibia stepped over the pieces. She grimaced as the blood rose up around her sandals to tickle her toes. She did her best to ignore the cries of those souls she couldn't aid. This was the dark truth of Immortality. Given enough time you could heal, you could step back into life again and again, all the while ignoring the call of whatever afterlife would seek to claim you. But Immortality wasn't indestructibility, and no one could say how long the road back to living could actually be. Tibia unconsciously hugged herself as she recalled the cold of the lake.
When she found her way to whatever was the center of the library she noted the fleet of tables that sported abandoned towers of books. Some were even left open, unfortunate, as those saw their pages drenched in the blood of their readers. All over the table skittered dog-sized automata that resembled hermit crabs. They plucked books from tables and slotted them into the mini-shelves upon their backs before hurrying off to re-home the left behind literature.
Tibia did her best to give the automata a wide berth, unwilling to chance that an encounter with them wouldn't summon their larger halberd wielding siblings to her location. She picked her way across the reading area toward the Information Desk where another stele stood. Though this one promised no mystical secrets. Instead, it was a simple painted map that detailed the Observatory grounds. It even had a cute star with the words, "You are here," next to it to mark her position.
"Where are you trying to go?" a squeaky woman's voice asked.
Tibia whirled around immediately. Leaning over the information desk was a transparent woman with circular glasses that framed wide innocent eyes, a smooth pebble nose, and a mouth ever so slightly puckered. All together creating the image of a woman ready at any point to cry if you said so much as a harsh word her way. The woman passed through the desk—a phantom then, Tibia noted—and revealed a dress made of night-sky that obscured the rest of her body.
"May I ask who you are, first?" Tibia choked out. Her eyes glanced toward the crowd of book-shelving automata that had stilled in their administrations to instead flank the spirit.
"A Librarian. Though you might best consider me an Archival Servitor. I and my sisters in the other towers have been with the Celestial Observatory for a long time. So, please, let me help you."
"Well, I'm trying to find my way through to the central tower. To reach the Orrery."
The Librarian shook her head. Her phantasmal hair swished with her before re-settling into its cute bob.
"The way there is easy enough. You can take the bridge that leads from here to the middle of the Central Tower, or you can exit back to the Entry-Hall and cross the central quadrangle to enter at its base. Still, you'd never get inside," the Librarian said.
"Why not?" Tibia asked.
"You'd need the proper identification. The Orrery is only accessible by those initiated into the Mysteries of the Fifth Heaven, or a member of the Black Sun's office staff."
Tibia offered a weak smile and lifted up Guardian's hand.
"I can't necessarily say I'm a member of either, but the Guardian of the Lost Heaven said that this could open any of the doors."
The Librarian's eyes narrowed as she seemed to actually look at Tibia's face.
"That would not be following appropriate protocol. If you're uninitiated you should not be entering. Let alone sporting the stolen hand of the Guardian."
"Stolen! He gave this to me, and if you haven't noticed things aren't normal right now. Do you even see the mess whatever had passed through here made of your library?"
The Librarian glanced at the bodies. One of them, really just a torso, slipped from its chair to flop against the ground. She looked back to Tibia and shrugged.
"We don't prejudice against the living or the dead that seek knowledge insofar as they have the proper identification. Of which, they do. Now, if you'd like I could give you the proper identification upon your relinquishment of the Guardian's hand until I could prove the veracity of your information. Otherwise, I will be forced to see you removed from the librarian post-haste by the Security Legion."
Tibia clutched the Guardian's hand for support as she weighed her options. Time was ticking down, and with how the blood had yet to grown tacky meant that she was right on the tail of whatever had passed through here. She could potentially catch this thing. But she recalled the size of those security automata outside, the unflagging determination to stall her and the Guardian, getting them off of her back would be ideal. Still, what to do?
Choose One:
[ ] Hand over the Guardian's hand, but receive proper identification.
[ ] Make a break for the Library Bridge that connects to the middle of the Central Tower.
[ ] Exit the Library and cross the Quad to the base of the Central Tower.
[ ] Make your argument to the Librarian that sometimes protocol has to be bent. This will require a Conflict.
***AN: A bit of a smaller update for this one, just cause there's gonna be more than a few choices for this little adventure. Mayhaps because there's a lot of potential goodies to take advantage of? Who can say. Anyways, hope you enjoy. I'll be following this up with the character sheet for the Librarian (for those who want to vote for the Conflict option). Again, always here to answer clarifying questions, chat, etc.
Voting will end Sunday 1PM PST.