I YET LIVE
MIGHTY AS THE MOUNTAINS
and as ponderous too
Low on creative juices due to work and also being generally satisfied with how things are going, feeling no need to summon the fullness of my wrath to correct the cultural misdemeanour that is xianxia.
Tragic for the thread but I'm glad you can truly enjoy this quest. You deserve it.
WHERE ALL YOUR INFINITE DREAMS COME FINITELY TRUE
3848 words
Naturally a Cursebearer theme park would be both acutely aware of its own limitations and nonetheless be superior to all other possibilities comprehensible to our puny mortal minds across all possible spectrum of measurement in every meaningful value.
It was early morning when he felt it, like a string flailing at his eyes. Verschlengorge also halted, sensing in its occult intelligence something like kinship. Halfway clambered upon a chalky hills, it twisted to scan the horizon, crags like skyscraper fangs of a creator titan, the lazy dawn trailing down each skyward peak with honeyed paint.
"Eh?" Letrizia jiggled the joysticks. "Hey. Hey! Aw, come on!"
I love how this implies the controls don't actually have any coercive power and Versh usually just goes with the directions because it usually doesn't care. It's like a reverse Ratatouille, or perhaps a father carrying his son on his shoulders.
As a side note, god I love how well you can portray the kind of imagery Rihaku uses; I'm profoundly envious.
"Calm down," said Hunger, laying a hand on Letrizia's head. Oddly this instantly calmed her, for reasons she had declined to elucidate. "I feel something." Now that he concentrated, he found an instinctual knowledge of this strange bearing, an almost tangible thread. Into that thread he focused his attention and the spark of his power.
For our boy to have forgotten the terrible power of headpats, truly he has sacrificed for his work. Why keep knowledge of anime if you're just going to forget its key insights? I'm guessing that last bit isn't Accretion so much as the logic transcending power of a High Cursebearer creating an enchantment that connects to the automatic customization function of the Cursebearer interface to convey the necessary information in a familiar manner.
There was the groaning of tortured stone that precipitated a thunderclap chord. A nearby edifice, wrinkled with age, crumbled into sand fine as fluid that streamed into a yawning, mirror-smooth circular abyss. Even after many minutes, the sand did not abate, a sourceless cataract dyed in the pale blue cast of the shadow of dawn.
Confession time. With the advent of summer, dawn arrives at the extremely unreasonable 4 AM where I live, which means I've stayed up late enough to know exactly the colour that last part is talking about. It's genuinely a beautiful image and I feel deeply guilty that the first thought I had regarding the picture you've painted was "isn't that just a recoloured Looney Tunes hole?"
I suppose it's appropriate for the High Cursebearer who, upon transcending his burdens, decided to make a fucking theme park.
Hunger poked Gisena, who stirred with a start from her nap on the cot. She groaned, cracking her neck in a sinuous rotation, scratching and picking away the detritus of sleep from her orifices. Somehow, these motions, purified by findross, were sensual and exotic to the eye. "What is it," she half-yawned, raising a fist to her lips to stifle it. Hunger noted a fresh layer of dark gloss had appeared on them. It was absurd.
And coming from a user of Accretion, that's really saying something. I can only assume the
findross has decided she's gone from a relatively standard high fantasy isekai world with magical girl characteristics to full on degenerate fanservice harem Jumpchain adventure and is just changing to suit. What dread power, to make even a cute yawn into some kind of dangerously seductive action. We've really gotta pick up some form of Sorcery one of these days; it would be fun being the memetic hazard rather than the memetic hazard's husbando.
"A mysterious pit. I feel an affinity for something within."
"Men often do."
"No, a literal hole in the ground. Look."
Damn, the
findross shift is affecting her mind too. Fortunately, Hunger has grown skilled at dealing with Gisena, swiftly acknowledging the innuendo in a way that robs it of all humour and then getting on with his point. How long had he spent getting pwned to unlock the Clarion stratagem? I assume our Ring must've helped because playing hard to get with Gisena is probably the highest stake challenge we've encountered yet.
Hang in there Hunger.
Gisena, in the middle of stretching in a slovenly yet enticing manner, took notice. "Oh, that's interesting! Let's go have a look."
"Uh, no?" Letrizia waved her hands. "Let's not go into the mysterious pit?"
Absolutely the cutest in the world, to think we wouldn't immediately throw ourselves into the unknown and potentially lethal hole out of curiosity. She's going to have a fucked up sense of risk assessment as she grows older; a good reason to teach her Accretion so she can have the plot armour to make it work.
"Letrizia," said Hunger, leaning toward her. "This is something I have to do."
"A-as a, a man?"
Weird direction, but sure. Hunger nodded. "Yes."
"Well, o-okay." She puffed her reddened cheeks, eyes filled with dewy determination. Hunger felt this was the awakening of something he should beware, but that was a problem for later. For now, there was a mysterious hole to enter.
I'd comment but I have no idea what's going on here, other than our manly charm being so rugged that it can change Zea's mind entirely with a single word. Our adopted daughter wanting to do her best to support her father? That would be cute, though she might feel a bit betrayed when the authority figure she respects so much decides to engage in a war of bloody conquest. Is this how Seram felt towards Control? Or is this a Kaji-Asuka situation? Because I will have to leave the room via 9th floor window if Letrzia tries to mack on us.
"So eager to enter a hole." Gisena picked at the strap of her dress, revealing a tantalising triangle of pale flesh.
Hunger waved at her dismissively. "Hush, woman."
"I am a woman, thank you for noticing."
Damn Gisena, you thirsty. Or maybe this is just frustration after several weaks of travel in which that gorgeous sadboy badboy widower just won't take the fucking hint. Ganbare Gisena, he's not nearly as dense as he looks. While the jokes will plink right off, I'm sure he'll fall to serious pursuit eventually. If nothing else, you've got your gang to ensure it.
Jumping in the pit, the dimensions of the aperture widened, the stonefall receding from the dissipating column of light. For minutes they descended, until suddenly the Armament was standing, impactless, upon the floor, surrounded by a hill of grains glittering beneath their with a billion colours that blended in distance into the pure white. Darkness loomed deep and vacuous, the floor seeming an endless pane of compacted cloud that stretched beyond the radar returns of Verschlengorge.
They pressed onward. Without texture or landmark, the Armament walked blindly, a lone island of illuminated stone without the intrusion of colour, guided only by Hunger's thread-bearing into the pure abyss.
"This is boring," Gisena complained. "It's just darkness. I have my eyelids for that!"
I admit, I laughed. It's this kind of contrast between lush description and snappy dialogue that gives these quests a lot of their humour for me. I would have thought Gisena would be more excited about mortal peril but perhaps she just doesn't appreciate that kind of tension. Too tragic, how will you get your career as a streamer started if you can't react entertainingly to Seven Sleepovers at Sal's?
There was a sudden shockwave, soundless and overwhelming in force, shaking Verschlengorge down to the deadbolts. The darkness deepened, cold to the eye. In two aspects darkness engendered fear: that of absence of light, anti-Pythagorean imprecision which diminished the appearance and certitude of objects within its shroud, and of obfuscation of danger and the possibility of terrors. In the second way was the darkness magnified; there seemed, without doubt, that beyond the boundary of light churned an unending maelstrom of malice, monstrosity beyond imagining, a writhing hell of hateful and wicked things that desired only to snuff the dim candle of safety and welcome the Armament and crew into its bleeding embrace.
How interesting. I assume this kind of defense is also customised to a degree given how it communicates things directly into his instincts and is primarily focused on obfuscating sight. The effect itself puts me in the mind of the Plenary Brand used in conjunction with Wizard of Oz from the original AST. Perhaps some form of non-mainline mitigation? Unecessary for a High Cursebearer but I imagine those guys take any and every opportunity available to fuck over their Curses after a few octillion years of dealing with them.
"Oh yeah," said Gisena as Hunger glared, "the Apocryphal Curse."
"What should I do?" Letrizia cried, white-knuckled grip trembling. Gisena rubbed her head as though pacifying a rabbit.
The cutest in the universe.
"It's just an illusion," said Hunger. To all other senses hostility screamed its arrival, but the thread-spark betrayed its true absence. Verschlengorge's eyes flashed sky-blue, and a blade of vision cleaved the darkness, stretching into infinity. The Armament crossed its claws across its heart, before sweeping them outward. Another pulse, and the light expanded, riding into the horizon east and west.
I wonder why they'd bother with both the defenses and the illusion if only Cursebearers can find this place. Keeping out cowardly Cursebearers? There's gotta be some chumps that end up getting picked considering how many of their kind exist. Or do they just want to prevent weakling Cursebearers from being followed by gods? The security for this place must be absolutely crazy, even ignoring the fact that it's a theme park populated by Cursebearers. Perhaps it's just the reflexive paranoia of a Progressor who could achieve those heights.
Darkness fled to reveal the empty space. There truly were no creatures, or any features. In the far mists, softened by distance and atmosphere, pillars like cliffs rose endlessly into faint needlepoints. No clouds, though there was space enough; insufficient humidity.
CursedLand has the nicest skyboxes.
But most interesting of all was a tablet, inset in the floor, edges delineated only by faint gold embroidery, lines of metal worming through transparent stone. In dimension it was perfectly square, exactly four-hundred ninety-six feet each side, every inch scrawled with thin calligraphy that Hunger found he could read, each tangled snarl of stroke and incision unlocking in his eyes.
"This is it," he said. "Show it to me." Verschlengorge's external cameras obliged, expanding the image until the uppermost corner was rendered visible, a square no larger than a fingernail, thick with symbols of abstract design arranged in seamless interlocking complexity. Hunger began reading. "The bearer of this token, whoso carries it as carries many Curses bestowed in bargain with the High One, is blessed with access into the hidden realm for himself or herself or themself or so on, with additional companions to a number not exceeding five save in instances of multitudinous unity..." He scanned the rest. It seemed to be more legalese, compacting screeds of conditions and exceptions with exquisite efficiency.
Huh, so it's so absurdly huge because that's the minimum size they could use while still effectively conveying the information to someone as limited as Hunger is? After all, by Cursebearer standards he's probably a literal baby. I'm sure if he wasn't a total scrub it would be some kind of hyperdimensional torus that would let him read every element of the terms and conditions simultaneously or whatever.
That said, why does it perfectly correlate with the fucking imperial system of all things? And why is it a square and not a rectangle or literally any other shape? Because that's probably not tied to any kind of customization geared to Hunger. Those are such minor details in the grand scheme of things but they bring up so, so many questions about the guy who designed all of this.
That, combined with the clauses we see starting by immediately accounting for hive minds and/or Voltron scenarios effectively show just how bizarre and foreign Cursebearers would be to each other, despite their commonalities. While both of our protagonists hail from derivatives of our general culture, there's more in heaven and earth etc.
"It's a membership signet," he concluded. "For some sort of--"
"--exclusive space what the."
They had been transported to some endless grid of white etched on black stone. Scattered across the plain, each within a square of white lines, were contraptions of every size and design: brazen chariots hammered into the countenance of bulls, hovering trilithons refulgent with crimson radiance, oozing flesh carved into hollow wheels, pirate galleons aloft on steel legs. Intermittent aisles would break the pattern, each filled with trolleys. The sky was dark, a black canvas punctured by a circle of stars like a ring of teethmarks, yet everything on ground was illuminated as though by afternoon day.
In one direction, there was a low brick wall with a gate. Oddly it did not diminish in size despite being at least several hundred miles away; Hunger felt, with certainty, it was only a short yet noticeable distance away. A small sign was pasted next to it, declaring, in the same mysterious glyphic hand as the tablet: Please do not leave your engines running.
It's like if Diagon Alley did a fusion dance all the cool bits of mythology and they Potara'd with the fucking Wacky Racers. This is the kind of shit I'm talking about; though the Accursed was a human from a relatively familiar universe, his Cursebearers are from all over the place and I want to know about literally all of them.
What's up with the ominously glowing Stone Henge? Why do those boats have legs like Silt Striders? Who was gross enough to make a car out of meat? All these hints of different universes makes me really regret not heading to civilization in this quest; who knows what kind of weird and wacky shit we'd end up seeing?
Powerlevels are cool and all but worldbuilding and nerd lore are even better. Pump it all directly into my veins, please.
There was a gush of steam. Verschlengorge, always thrumming with activity, descended onto its knees. It became quiet, then silent, the cockpit opening as the mechanoid titan shut off.
And now Versh gets to join in on the menagerie as a giant, evil looking mecha with three heads. He fits right in and I find that kinda delightful. Tragic he couldn't come enjoy Curseland with everyone else. Or maybe he could but just doesn't want to because the previous guy had the Praxis and once you've experienced those attractions, the mortal daycare just can't satisfy you anymore.
Letrizia slapped the power button several times. "Come on! What is this?"
"You always take us to such nice places," said Gisena. She seemed discomfited, and less alluring then usual. Thinking on it, Hunger himself felt lighter. The Curses he had taken on seemed phantasmal, their yoke lifted temporarily. Some sort of wide-spectrum nullification?
Hah! The Nullity nullified. How does it feel, Gisena? I suppose it shouldn't be surprising that use of
findross was what made her look good at even 6 AM in the morning; only magic could manage that, no matter how pretty she might be.
It does feel like a bit of Praxis supremacy though, it being the only system likely to still function in the anti-magic field of a High Cursebearer. I assume their Curses are nullified anyway so, as usual, the Praxis proves itself to be the objectively correct choice.
RIP.
"What is this place?" Letrizia wondered. She stared at the various parked devices with unabashed intrigue.
"The hidden realm," said Hunger. "That tablet, it transported us here. I feel my Curses lightened but my power is..." He clenched his hand with a distorted screech of air. "I am also diminished, but not totally."
"I feel the same," said Gisena. She focused, to no effect. "My resilience is unchanged, but I can't turn my mind to hostile acts."
Huh. I assume the lack of mental interference for Hunger to be a Cursebearer privilege. Would the hostility interdiction field still apply if Gisena was a Geas companion? Or is that just due to the differing nature of their powers? Accretion has many uses, even in peace, but anti-magic is less versatile and a bit of a wet blanket besides. No tolerance for the fun police in CursedLand!
Interesting their Curses aren't removed entirely; I assume that's to ensure that no matter how light to yoke may become in the fun zone, it will still chafe over time. Else, some Cursebearers weak of mind might just chill here forever, assuming no external factor forcing them to leave. Old Seram from the Manifest Realm would probably be fine with being somewhat punchable for an eternity of peace and joy.
"Well I feel normal," Letrizia added. She fell into an introspective mood. "I guess I could go pee." When danger struck at any moment, it was important to take the opportunity for relief.
I admit to feeling a sort of irrational twinge in my mind whenever people make references to elements of mortality like pooping in these quests. That's the first and foremost thing I'd assume people take care of with magic or science so seeing dudes who can run around at mach 3 being subject to these kinds of constraints is weird to me.
Poor Letrizia, why even have giant robots when your civ can't even do this much?
The water closet of the Armament remained functional, though in low-power mode. After Letrizia completed her business, they agreed to inspect the mysterious gate that stood only several tens of metres away. Descending the emergency ladder, Hunger commandeered a trolley for Letrizia to occupy; Gisena piggybacked. In this arrangement, Hunger began sprinting at superhuman speed.
Yet, despite several seconds of high-speed movement, Letrizia desperately gripping the wireframe, the gate only slightly receded in distance. Yet another distortion of spacetime? Hunger slowed down to a trot, then a walk, then the slowest possible ambulation imaginable for a man with one arm transporting two women. In all instances the rate of approach was identical.
The image of Hunger grim-facedly pushing an extremely alarmed looking white haired Asuka in a shopping cart with Gisena clinging to his back like a koala made me burst out into laughter. The things you do when your friends aren't on the level and your powers can't support them. #ProgressionProblems*.
*curious what Cursbearer twitter looks like. You gotta assume there's one big brained High Cursebearer trying to replicate social media, at least when there's enough of them to get together and make a theme park.
"You can get off, Gisena, the speed doesn't matter."
"You won't even help me? Typical man." She tightened her grip.
The Thirst is Real.
But she's not wrong. It's only polite to offer a helping hand towards lady attempting to get off, Hunger, especially when you're the one who asked her to mount you
Eventually they reached the gate, Gisena hopping off and helping Letrizia from her turtleback predicament. The gate, a frame of metal covered with a lone plank, seemed to suppress a riotous uproar of noise from behind it. From their position, no matter how far they stretched, they couldn't see over the low brick wall, nor through the blatant gaps in the gate's construction.
"Enough, we'll be here forever." Hunger pushed the gate open, stepping through.
I'm having trouble visualising a chest high wall that they are nonetheless unable to see over. Nor do I really understand how they can't see through gaps in a gate. Is there something obstructing their vision on the other side? Or does spatial warping just make it so that they can never quite get a good angle on things.
What I can visualise perfectly is how adorable it would see to see Letrizia stuck in a shopping cart and needing mom help her out. Absolutely the cutest.
He was beset by a cacophonous celebration of colour and noise, unyielding, overwhelming. Fireworks like crimson serpents spiraled through the sky, cones of light split into phantasmal gemstones, candybergs of spun sugar, sweet to the eye, drifting like clouds low enough to tear a piece. From every corner, brass polished to aureate sheen trumpeted anthems, enchanted harps self-plucking, flutes self-flauting. Black crags stood resolute against the night, foamy fountainheads streaming like white ribbons from their heads to water emerald groves baubled with gemstone fruit.
I should've expected the power of Progression to apply to childlike wonder but I really wasn't expecting it to be this cheerful. But then again, given the 24/7 burden they operate under, I imagine Cursebearers are some of the hardest partiers in whatever locality they find themselves. They take after the OG in that regard. I can vaguely recall Rihaku saying something about Odyssial only ever going to one First Age party on Lealope's insistence but that party was completely optimised.
My shitty meat brain quails at the idea of imagining what the Most High would do to maximise fun because I'm not sure if I'd survive trying to even think about it. While he doesn't have any specific party skills, he does have an incredible grasp of human and superhuman psychology and the power to warp reality around him via Shinmaic calibration. Unleashing that power to the task of having enough fun to last him until the Lathe of Heaven was complete would probably result in an area of Creation being permanently scarred by the transcendental rager he threw.
And all above them, written in gold, were the words WELCOME TO CURSEDLAND.
"...That's a terrible name," said Letrizia.
Bold words coming from a woman whose parents couldn't be bothered to spell check a birth certificate.
There was a rapid series of footsteps as they were approached by a woman dressed in an elegant dark pantsuit, pink hair bound up in a neat ponytail. "Visitors! New visitors! I get to do the introduction!" She saluted them. "Hello, Cursebearer and companions! Welcome to CursedLand, where all your dreams come true, for reasonable definitions of "dream" and "true!" I'm Lilea, and I'm here to introduce you to the facilities at your disposal!"
Yo, it's ya girl. Good to see her again, I always like these kinds of throwbacks. I wasn't around for the Unnamed but going through the thread after the fact gives me a feeling of mysterious nostalgia. Presumably, Seram pulled some strings to help her find a stable job somewhere unlikely to be destroyed when Control ends the world.
She'd be good at the job too so it's not like its pure nepotism. She was among the most moral, compassionate, kind and understanding characters we'd ever seriously interacted with in these quests. Her and Orihime. And Aurelia too I guess but she doesn't count. She could put Young Seram at relative ease and considering that guy's social abilities were pretty much at the nadir of humanity, that's pretty impressive.
You could do a lot worse when it comes to people who seek to interact with a group as diverse and probably hurting as Cursbearers.
"...What?" said Hunger.
"CursedLand is a terrible name," Letrizia repeated.
"Is it?" Lilea tilted her head. "What would you call it instead?" Despite her choice of words, Lilea appeared genuinely interested in her opinion.
From anyone else, I'd assume this was a passive-aggressive response designed to put someone on the spot while maintaining plausible deniability in case of a negative reaction. But from Lilea, it seems like genuine curiosity. I bet she wouldn't even poke fun if you said you couldn't come up with anything. It's more likely she'd try genuinely understand your reasons for disliking the name, work with you to come up with an alternative and submit it to the appropriate authority if she's truly convinced.
What a terrible power.
Course, I doubt the High Cursebearers that created the theme park can even pretend to give one single fuck about making it sound attractive so I guess the name stays. It's not like Cursebearers have any real alternative.
"Are you--" Letrizia blinked, put on the spot. She frowned, mind whirring a mile a minute. "U-um, Superhappy Funtabulous Land."
"Nice improv," said Gisena.
Hey! Don't be mean, Gisena, she did her best. It's not her fault that she sucks. Blame her universe for not being kind enough to provide significant attribute augmentation through magic or space magic. Really, that's something you guys should be working on as soon as possible. She'd be a lot better off if she was a Dunedain or something along those lines.
It's not like the name's inaccurate anyway, even if it's a little undignified.
"What is this place, exactly?" Hunger asked.
Lilea snapped to attention. With the air of officialdom, she clicked her heels and recited: "CursedLand was created by several High Cursebearers as a place of leisure and communion for their fellow Cursebearers, providing a constant of safety in these hard times. Within its cosmic boundary, no time passes, and most Curses are suspended to a level indistinguishable from normal mortal debilitation!"
I'm really, terribly curious about Cursebearer society. Do they have social moores and etiquette? How do these people interact? The contract is a clear sign that they've got at least some level of shared commonalities. Or maybe there's a bunch of different societies, it's implied there are a shitload of Cursebearers and more than a few Accursed-adjacent species like the Foremost.
Is there a Church of the Accursed in the multiverse? There's gotta be, right? He's basically God except there's no problem of evil with him since he's got a good explanation for not having eradicated all suffering ever, namely that he tried it and just before he could succeed, the Devil rounded up his posse and decided to ambush him. Once he's resolved that, we can all be led into the golden tomorrow.
Actually, I'm curious if this wasn't actually another Lathe of Heaven situation. We already know that the Cursebearers are tasked with opposing Destined Heroes to a degree. Could it be possible that it's not just the evil bastards who tried to stop him? There's tons of settings where the balance of good and evil or order and chaos or whatever the fuck is an integral part of the setting. Basically, the status quo.
Odyssial would annihilate all of that and I imagine rendering more than a few great cosmic beings either redundant, changed unrecognisably or slain beyond the possibility of recovery. It might just be the kind of programming error where the Unconquered Sun and Luna were forced to defend the busted, broken husk of the world they lived in due to their fundamental nature, despite the possibility of replacing it with something infinitely better.
Also, curious to see how this place changes as the beings in question get more and more powerful. What's the point of time not passing to someone who can transcend linear time? What continuums and dimensions open up to those mightier than we can comprehend?
A naked, heavily muscled man ran past, dripping oil. "I got my dick back! Hell yeah!" He rolled swiftly out of sight.
Or maybe they're all just a bunch of dinguses who are mortal at heart. Why did he start doing entirely unnecessary combat rolls though? Or is that just a spontaneous dance performance from someone who has been temporarily relieved of the Eunuch's Affliction?
As Letrizia tried to pry Gisena's hand from her eyes, Lilea shook her head sadly. "The Brand of the Naturalist. It forbids the use of all synthetic artifice, including woven fibres. Sadly, some Curses cannot be suspended." She shrugged, and began to lead them to the most palatial section. "Oh well, let's go! I'm sure a Cursebearer of your calibre would like to see our Praxis Park! We have a Praxis Colosseum, Praxis Monopoly, Praxis Kart, Praxis Kart Double Dash--"
Why do all of these just seem like increasingly roundabout ways to say no holds barred sparring? Possibly to the death if they've got a Praxis Party 8 section in there. Or do they use this as a proxy for murder due to the aggression dampening; turning their hypercosmic powers to the task of cheating at Monopoly. You might not be able to cause direct harm but you can certainly torture them psychologically when they land on your Boardwalk Hotel for the third time in a row.
I imagine people with the Doom of Rivalry get a lot of use out of this place.
As a side note, it seems like it should be more like the Doom of the Naturalist, considering the schema we've seen for the other Curses. Or maybe the Affliction if it's not just a mental thing and he actually starts withering if he wears some clothes. Chuffed that she thinks someone who oiled up their muscles like that would be pained by the Curse that "forces" him to not wear clothing. Or is that just her compassion for the other guests?
"I don't have access to the Praxis," said Hunger.
"Oh, I see!" Lilea made a hard turn, directing them away from the boulevards of obsidian and fountains of aqueous flame, transparent diamond statues struck through with veins of a stone that shimmered and twisted constantly like stardust suspended in ink, to the plainly adorned doors marked by inflated letters: MORTAL DAYCARE ZONE. "All conceivable games played by humans are present and staffed. You can even win prizes and memorabilia, or even win the chance to have your likeness in the CurseMon Series!" She fanned out several cards, each depicting a person labeled as Cursebearer, their feats and strengths annotated numerically in accordance with some obscure schema. "Collect them all!"
Truly, genuinely tragic. Who knows what kind of infinite joys await those who wield the Praxis, given the obvious bias at hand here? For a Progression type to not even wield the Noble Praxis is a clear indication that the Cursebearer in question is either a literal baby or intolerably lazy. No wonder he's getting put in a daycare.
Especially when it's clear that this place is filled with the sickest descriptions and sights. Kinda reminiscent of Odyssial's thoughts on creation being a wondrous place for the Titans who would be entirely unaffected by the horrifying dangers of their Creation and could thus instead admire its natural beauty. Meanwhile, those flying rivers of lava could probably wipe away a mortal civilization as a side effect of their passage.
Bet none of the horrifying shit that happened to the Primordials would have occurred if
they'd set up a Mortal Daycare Zone. But that would require compassion, ethics and a willingness to use something other than sentient beings for maintenance and fueling their clubhouse so I guess they were doomed to eternal torture from the get go.
Poor, dumb bastards.
"Ooh!" Gisena grabbed one. "This one has two thousand Attack Points. Lord Hunger, do you have two thousand Attack Points?"
"I could," said Hunger, somewhat petulantly. "You don't know that."
Aww, is our boy jealous? Does he actually care about her opinion? That's really cute actually, the gap moe is too strong. That said, when it comes to the scales of Cursebearers, you'd be lucky to have one attack point, let alone two thousand. You really need to get on the level if you ever want your card to be actually sought after.
"How could I possibly know how many Attack Points you possess when you don't attack me?"
"Hmph. You want me to attack you?"
"I think you can be a little more rapacious." Gisena twisted her hair in her fingers.
Walked right into that one, Hunger. Are you doing this on purpose? Because that would be some top tier bullying. What a meta-tease!
"CursedLand isn't only for Cursebearers!" Lilea explained, leading them on a motorised buggy through a bowling alley of infinite length. "Access is also permitted to several non-affiliated persons if they prove trustworthy! It rarely happens though, and several other conditions must be met." She skidded to a halt next to a single lane, where several men were seated while another, head occupied with a half-helm, examined the distant pins with unerring focus. "Like here! Hello, there! I hope you're enjoying our facilities!"
I assume those conditions include being a memorable character from the Rihaku quest and not being a xianxiaboy. Curious to know who handles the offers and why the High Cursebearers bothered. I assume that's probably a clause to allow for non-Cursebearer Praxis using species to get in the club house. It's not like all the people in here are Progressors anyway so it's very possible they could at least hang with the Combat-types.
"I cannot speak for the others, but I am enjoying the game," replied one man, brown-haired, dressed in Eastern clothing. He smiled kindly, poking his glasses. "Truly, the cosmos has more things than can be dreamt of. To find so many with the same will to power-- ah, if I had a heart it would be warmed!"
I suppose it's to be expected that Aizen would be able to take even this in stride, even if I'm 100% sure he was squealing like a schoolgirl when the offer first came. That guy was always more about the ascent than the peak so knowing he has infinitely further to go would probably hearten him, even if there's no chance that he'd ever make it anywhere near anything resembling relevance. Unless, of course, someone gives him the Praxis.
Regardless, it's good to see a few more familiar faces.
"We're glad you're enjoying your visit," Lilea said cheerily.
"Tch." Asiatic in features, save for a shock of orange hair, a different man slouched in disarray.
"Now, now, Kurosaki-kun. Whatever your grievances, you shouldn't be unkind to staff."
"Hey, fuck you, Aizen."
Hey! Mind your fucking manners Ichigo, it's not Lilea's fault you're a traumatized kid in a shitty situation who got kidnapped by his worst enemy.
By the lane, the helmed man bowled. "Ah, a seven-ten split."
Nathor? Doesn't really fit with the other characters in the scene but no-one else is coming to mind here. Is my brain just farting? If it is Nathor, I'm not surprised he's only got one line, aside from Rufus (who I imagine is a "literally who?" for most and possibly not even invited into the clubhouse anyway) he was probably the most forgettable, both because his quest died early and because he's not nearly as cool as the Good Doctor.
"Kurosaki-kun." A faint frown marred the man's peaceful expression; power like a looming thunderhead gathered in the space. "Mind your language."
"No, fuck this." Kurosaki stood up. "You kidnap me, take me to this weird-ass dimension, make me bowl, and for what? You want me and Ishida to make up? I'd sooner cut my own throat!" A sonorous echo overlaid his words, a bestial gurgle resembling a bonfire crackle. "You killed my father!"
Yeah, nah, I'm with Ichigo on this one. No matter how pleasant you sound, exerting your spiritual pressure is you looking for a fight. Aizen's smart enough to know that Ichigo wouldn't respond well to him pulling that shit, though I suppose it might have just been a ten trillion IQ play to make all the latent emotion and resentment come out. If he starts fighting, Uryu's likely to tag in and given both share a mysterious ability to connect with their opponents while in combat, that would probably resolve their respective interpersonal issues a lot faster than letting it lie.
At least doing that shit here is unlikely to lead to Ishida murdering Ichigo (which the Prince of Light could 1000000% do).
"No, Kurosaki-kun." The man raised a hand outstretched. "I am your father."
Sudden flashbacks to Orihime's entirely serious and not at all Star Wars references upon Uryu's betrayal. Ichigo really walked right into that one, he knows very well the kind of company he keeps.
When are we getting our space-fantasy adventure, Rihaku? And space opera + mechs does not count. It's laser sword or nothing. Though I suppose it's a bit early to tell, not like we know shit about the Human Sphere anyway.
"Fuck off."
"Haha. Yes, just a little jape to lighten the mood. But your father is still alive."
All the fight dissipated from Kurosaki. "What? That's bullshit."
"What need would I have to lie? Indeed, I could have killed him; however, Ishida-kun prevailed upon me to spare him, for your sake." He glanced to another bespectacled man, who looked placid in the face of this chaos. "Did you not inform him?"
I really like seeing Aizen's absolutely transparent and crystal clear attitude. As far as Manipulation goes, I genuinely think he's got the highest we've seen in these quests, except for Control. Seriously, what a massive improvement over the original.
Ishida raised his glasses. With unimpeachable gravitas, he said, "I forgot to tell him."
"Ishida-kun," Aizen chided, sounding disappointed.
What a dick move dude, sick glasses techs can't cover for that. I get you're an emotional masochist who feels like he's got to take all the burdens on himself and everything Ishida but you did let him believe his father was fucking dead for a hot minute my dude.
There was a clatter of pins. "Ah, a spare."
"It genuinely slipped my mind. Cleaning up after Yhwach was more complex than I anticipated. I was wondering why he was so truculent, but to be fair, it's no less than his usual self."
Now don't give me that shit Ishida, Ichigo is stubborn but I imagine he'd be a lot more chill after you took over the afterlife, fixed the issue of Hollow attacks and maybe solved the eternal atrocity that is the existence of the Soul King. At the very least, he wouldn't have to be a Substitute Shinigami any more.
"You--my father--my father's still alive?!" Kurosaki roared. "We mourned him! We buried his empty casket! Yuzu wouldn't stop crying for weeks!"
I was going to make a snarky comment about Soul Society and visiting rights but oh shit, Isshin's already a ghost. Killing him would probably make him reincarnate into a literal baby, making their father dead for all intents and purposes.
Seriously Ishida, what the fuck my dude!?
Very quietly, Lilea set the buggy to roll on. "We can't do anything for them," she whispered. "We're good but not that good."
Don't worry Lilea, no one is that good. At least no-one who would care enough to do so. Fortunately, you can leave it to papa Aizen, who has enough dad energy for both of these two troubled brothers from different mothers and fathers and general metaphysical genetics.
"We also have several motorsports arenas. If equestrianism is your thing, the stables are for you! And our gokarting course is highly rated!"
Below them the scream of tires filled the air as several karts screeched by, engines livid with turbo flames as they slalomed through tarmac, forest, riverbed and flame. On the leaderboards, a stormy-looking fellow with an eyepatch climbed the ranks, standing proud from the hatch of his tank. His depiction was carried by a pair of women dressed like medieval reenactors.
The tank makes me think Ryoshu while the eyepatch and racing seems more Noboru while the fans could go either way I guess??? Who the fuck is this? I assume this is just me being a complete moron here.
Gisena latched onto Hunger. "I want one! Please please please?" She slung her arm around his neck, popping her Accursicle in her mouth.
Given the existence of Accursicles, I'm really curious what a High Cursebearer's relationship is like with their patron. For him to tacitly permit this sort of stuff coming from them, they've gotta be at least kinda close, right? Do they see him as an eccentric old uncle who has both high expectations for them and a genuine desire to see them flourish? Is he like a kindly grandpa? Not kindly in the sense that he gives out candy and spoils them with presents but in the sense that he's always got time for them and is willing to give great life advice by drawing upon his transfinite years of experience.
I think that might actually be one of the greatest privileges of becoming one of those luminaries among the Progressors; just being able to call up Odyssial and ask him for a bit of help with optimising your path towards your goals. The indications that we could actually speak with the Accursed were the most painful part of losing Pay to Win and Three Wishes.
Hunger looked down at the Accursed's melting chocolate visage. "I don't think they'll let you take one apart."
"We do!" Lilea corrected. "Some people find it very relaxing!"
How foolish of you, Hunger! How could you dare to assume CursedLand would try anything other to accommodate your wishes in a manner congruent with the absurd amount of resources they have access to? Their marketing might be more sober and realistic than those of mundane theme parks but that's what makes it an obvious indication of the infinite luxuries they have. They don't feel the need to lie to you and tell you that all of your dreams will come true when they know that Cursebearers would not entertain so weak an ambition as to be fulfillable by anything other than their own power.
That it is nonetheless capable of providing momentary satisfaction to such a group is a testament to the terrible power of one who has completed their Indenture.
You too might get there some day if you could stop being suicidal for five seconds.
A nearby man was bent over, retching, while some sort of Oriental zombie was fussing over him. "Master, please! Deep breaths, after me!"
Could it be?
"When my soul stops eating itself I'll get right back to it." He doubled over, onto all fours, and disgorged a baseball-sized sphere. It plinked on the ground, its glassy surface scored with teethmarks and filled with glimmering stars. "What the fuck," he whispered hoarsely.
There's no-one else who would react to such absurd circumstances with a characteristic bemusement and irritation.
It's good to see you again, my Prince. I have truly missed you.
And I like seeing the Celestial Orbs, even if they're more than a little bit gross and manky right now. I'd always thought of them as plain white metaphysical spheres but I think this might work better.
"Why, it's a Celestial Orb, master! The currency of the Heavens!"
"A what? Why?" The man boggled. "Wait, I just lost a spell. The one that shoots a light that makes you wanna die. Bleakblast or somehuuuugh." Plink-plonk fell another sphere of divinity.
God, this is horrifying as it is hilarious to watch. But why is he losing Diagram spells though? I'd have thought it would be pretty all or nothing. Or is that just due to the trauma of yartzing things bigger than his mouth? Weird spell for the Nameless to have though, presumably a substitute or supplement to the Mien Offense Shell.
A short woman in a motorcycle suit approached at speed. "Ehh? What's wrong with you? Eat something weird, hah?"
And Meimei's here too! I'm glad to see our boy was able to cure his wife because she's delightful. Nobody tell her about what we did to the other seasons and/or maybe her incarnation as a goddess. And yeah Mei, he did eat something weird, you siblings are the ones who fed that shit to him! Seriously, how did you even put it in his body, huh? And why can he puke it up?
"Mistress Vane! Master fell victim to a paradox attack from his alternate self! Bravely he punished such impetuous daring, but not without loss!"
Huh, very interesting that he can actually be targeted by such effects in this area. I can't imagine it's coming from within CursedLand, considering the source would be both a xianxia character and affected by the hostility interdiction. Could it be a pre-existing issue that only flared up now? Neat that people can strike outside of this place with the right circumstances; I suppose it would be too much for the High Cursebearers to make this place entirely devoid of tactical value.
Also, RIP Hubris!Nameless. You came and the Prince and you fucking missed, idiot. Shouldn't have got so greedy for the power of that Praxis; if that's what you wanted, you should've taken the deal as and when you could. Or at least go find a species that can access it, sacrifice your essence and work hard like a real protagonist. You'd have been the uncaring cosmos the Praxis was forged to fight against. At least canon Yong is happy and willing to become a family man than try to climb a mountain he's got no business being on.
We talk about frogs in wells a lot but whether or not it sees the world, can it not be enough that the frog is happy with its lot?
"HUURRGH." The man flipped the zombie off. "Kong if you were any more of an irritant speck in my life I'd be accumulating a shell of nacre around you and selling you to pharaohs."
Oh, now this is what I've really missed. The burns the Nameless can dish out are without peer, even if it's entirely futile against Kong's implacable Reason and complete lack of shame. God, I'm glad to see this ended exactly how I imagined it would. Both because now the Nameless has a place to vent his
Red Option energy that isn't Meiling and because the Big Blue can actually withstand it without resenting his lot in life, making him the perfect butler/valet.
Also, they've got hilarious interactions. I almost laughed myself out of my chair.
"Yah, that's gross!" The woman slapped him. "Don't talk about drowning men in your pearly secretions in front of your wife."
"I'll save my necklaces just for you, Meimei."
"Not in front of Kong!"
My unironic OTP, far beyond any other. Any suggestion otherwise can only be met with violent rejection. The energy here is just too pure and powerful for it to be otherwise. I assume Might and Truth were the wedding rings? In the former case, does that mean they seriously just demolished the Labyrinth Empire and put an end to Cultivation? Or is that just due to the Cycle of Ages collapsing entirely?
"Why? He's basically furniture, or a dog."
"It's true, Mistress," said the zombie. "Think of me as a convenient but nonsapient artifice designed to serve, like those incredible "vending machines" for acquiring sustenance through pure monetary transaction without interacting with another human!"
You can treat him like shit and he absolutely won't mind because he doesn't really have feelings to hurt. His sky high dexterity and genius level intelligence make him very good at all manual skills, while spatial warping makes him good at fetching things and remaining out of sight as much as possible, along with its various utility applications. In a real pinch, you can just have him use the Sky Above the Sky and act as a temporary distraction and/or ablative armour.
"You know," said Lilea, "every day is so exciting!" She smiled.
"Wait, so, I got a winning popsicle," said Letrizia, holding up her denuded paddle. The Accursed, rendered in cartoon interpretation, stared dourly from the birchwood stick. "It says I can trade it in for Accursed Favour?"
"Lucky you! Accursed Favour is like a wish upon a star, except real!"
Wild that High Cursebearers are actually putting up something as valuable as Accursed Favour up as a prize, Letrizia must be the luckiest gal in the world because I can't imagine more than the tiniest handful of those popsicles have it. Or maybe the Accursed alots a level of Favour to be provided to CursedLand due to the value and meaning it must hold for his chosen.
"Some patrons like a quieter way to spend their time," said Lilea, walking them through the vast interior stadium. They passed a nine-storey indoor golf course, where a couple in matching tropical shirts were having a gentle argument ("Arthur, you can't just listen to everything I say, we're opponents." "Gotcha. Listen to everything you say." "Arthur."), Lilea pointing out the attractions. "We have a variety of peaceful activities, such as minigolf, hyakunin foosball, all the chess sequels, private cinemas, and even some TBD!"
Well, you can't say he's not doing exactly what you said, Imperia. You know that boy can't help himself, you really should've chosen your words better. I imagine they're a couple that pretty much never fights because one is so absurdly devoted to the other's ambitions and in a way beyond the transactional or superficial.
Also, where the hell was this Arthur during Terrascape? He's be infinitely more entertaining if he leaned into his schtick and willfully obeyed Imperia's instructions well past the point of sense or genuine deference.
Also, chess sequels???
"TBD?" asked Letrizia. "I want TBD! What's TBD?"
"We're still hashing it out. Over here is our quiet section, where visitors can quietly explore our information databases, or look at interesting birds. And oh my GOD." Taken aback by this sudden exclamation, they watched Lilea suddenly sprint to slap a disheveled man carrying several foil packets.
Despite the impact ringing with thunderous volume, the man was unmoved, instead staring mournfully at the foil packets spilling from his arms. "Oh man, my ramens."
Well, neat to see that Lilea at least still has some level of access to Chrysopoiea, even if she has to use it to entertain a super masochist. Pour one out for your boy, who is so used to hatred from supernally gorgeous women that he now enjoys it. What an absolute hero.
Seriously though my dude, ramen? Were you so deprived in your journey that this is what passes for luxury? Or do you just enjoy the reminders of humanity and mundanity that much?
"Mister LAW!!" Lilea, indignation writ in every inch, assembled her meagre height into a fearsome stele of outrage. "How many times must I tell you not to eat dry ramen in the library!! We have a restaurant for any cuisine you desire, if only you would consume it on the premises!!! You can even have freshly cooked, professional ramen, with free toppings and refills!!!! And SOUP!"
I don't know why but I burst out laughing when I read the sheer indignation Lilea channeled into the word "SOUP!" That said, it's broth so her entire argument is invalid. Surprised people can't take their dishes outside the restaurant though, that seems like functionality that would be very useful. I assume the reason it's forbidden in the library is to prevent disturbances to other guests at the mortal level who can't just autofilter this stuff.
"But I like eating ramen while reading," the man said diffidently, staring at the floor.
God, what a kicked puppy. Does he just enjoy being pathetic? Well, it's not like I don't get it, there's something fun about playing the sad boy who gets bullied, so long as its on your own terms.
Lilea grabbed a foil packet; in her slender yet powerful grip the contents within cracked into powder. "Mister Law, please treat yourself with some justice. This is not ramen worthy of a Cursebearer." In response the man only hugged his foil packets tighter, secreting them into various pockets on his outfit. "Oh, Mister Law." She wrinkled her nose. "You smell like six asses."
Ah, now I understand. When people hate you on sight and you've left everyone you've ever known behind, the feeling of someone willing to get angry at you for your lack of self-care must be genuinely heartwarming to an extend, as is defying their anger to continue wallowing in your own filth and misery, especially since you know they won't give up on you.
Also, sometimes its nice to get pushed around by a pretty lady. Don't worry Seram, I no longer judge you.
"Sorry." His eyes roamed, until they landed on Gisena. He looked faintly ill, and averted his eyes skyward.
Damn, the trauma depowering cuts deep. Poor guy, unfortunate that he missed out on how delightful Gisena can be. She's got more uses than just making toilets, y'know!
Lilea hurried back, looking contrite. "I'm terribly sorry! I've shown the wicked hand of my temper today. But this does conclude our tour!"
"...Are there no training areas?" Hunger asked.
Lilea tilted her head. "Amusement parks aren't gyms. No bodily changes within CursedLand persist outside of it. That's the price of its leisure, I'm afraid; the infinity of the zero. We also don't have hotels!" She glanced at Letrizia, and held a palm to disguise her lips. "Except those for, ahem, "whale music." But you can't stay there long-term anyway."
I suppose being unable to just rest would put a kibosh on any plans to just chill here for a few million years. Not like it affects Hunger too much anyway, the only way he can grow is through murder and it's not like he can practice his Praxis here anyway.
"What's a whale?" Gisena wondered.
"Well, thank you for your time," Hunger interrupted. "About the membership card, it's quite inconveniently sized...?"
Good dodge Hunger, if you let her know you'd be stuck here for a while yet and probably end up leaving Letrizia unsupervised. Course, the longer you delay it, the longer it'll take so you're doing this entirely at your own peril, my friend.
"It should resize to fit its owner, which is now you. If there's anything else?"
"No," said Hunger.
"Yes," said Gisena. "Is there a gift store?"
The gift shop attendant seemed superfluous, given that nothing had a price, but her own enthused recommendations had sold Letrizia on making several purchases to show her dedication, to say nothing of her hair tips.
Of course there's a gift store. Even more curious what this place is like when you visit it at level three trillion or whatever, assuming it's not just a cradle for the youngest of their kind. What kind of sick stuff could you get from the gift shop then? A replica of Ambition? A signed autograph from a High Cursebearer? Maybe even some kind of collector's edition Odyssial swag i.e. the equivalent of the Accursed's baby pictures?
Laden with memorabilia, they walked back to Verschlengorge. Letrizia was toying with an Accursed plushie, the side of her head occupied by a mask of the same. "Do you think it really shoots laser eyes?"
"I think there is a real chance you could display it in the manner of a crucifix and incinerate vampires," said Hunger.
"Awesome," breathed Letrizia.
Yet more evidence for a church of the Accursed. Not sure you should be telling her that though Hunger, at this rate you're going to end up the vampire she'd use it on. Live that Super Undead Chimera Juggernaut life!
Incredibly rad though. Should've known even a plushie of the Accursed would have sick magical powers. Wonder if the Accursicle had any too, aside from being maximally delicious and easily edible.
As the pilot clambered back into the giant robot, Gisena leaned in, taking Hunger into private conference. "Time doesn't pass here. There's no reason not to stay as long as you want."
Hunger looked at her. For a moment he marshaled his words, fleeting and sparse as they were, but shook his head. With a single movement he vaulted into the cockpit, where Letrizia was hanging the plushie on the posterior viewport screen.
I'm not sure if our boy even knows how to rest any more. To lay down his arms here might mean he just collapses entirely after all that he's been through. He deserves it but will never find peace until he and his companions are finally avenged. There's a reason his only sign of interest in this place is the training areas they may have offered.
Gisena climbed up herself. "You could have taken a real bath, at least! One arm can't wash itself, you know!"
Maybe he's just waiting for you to offer some help? Ever thought about that, Gisena? Well, probably not but there's no harm in making the attempt. Maybe one day, he'll even take you up on it!
"I suppose it would be nice not to taste soap, but sometimes we can't have what we want." Hunger settled into his seat. He felt a building energy, Verschlengorge activating without issue. "Let's go--"
"--back."
They appeared beneath the morning sky. All around them the mountains had been erased, as though stamped flat. Indeed, Hunger lifted his hand, where a square of stone had ensconced itself. On the obverse were the dense golden letters proclaiming his passage into CursedLand, the reverse occupied by those mountains they had climbed only minutes before, snowcapped and cloud-swaddled.
Well, if nothing else it's one hell of a surprise to pull out. Maybe he could add it to his panoply? We need a funtime artifact anyway and what could be more fun than an invite to the happiest place accessible in all continuums of all dimensions across a tranfinite meta-escalation of cardinalities?
"That's pretty neat," said Letrizia. Unobstructed, Verschlengorge plotted a straight line across acres of bedrock.
"Mm." He slipped it into a pocket, settling back. "Are you waiting for something?"
"Can we go back sometime?"
Hunger closed his eyes, muttering oaths. "Sometime."
Letrizia pouted. "Promise?"
"If you're good."
"Hah!" The pilot cracked her neck. "I'm the best."
The dad energy is overwhelming. I'm glad that, even if Hunger wants to get on that 25/7 grind, he'll still take breaks to make his companions happy. And having a place to unwind from the eternal tension and conflict of the Apocryphal would likely prove invaluable in the years to come. And hey, maybe he'll actually learn to enjoy the fun there once he has access to the Praxis? Can't brood productively all the time.
AN: CursedLand takes no liability for loss of dreams in the uncaring face of the cosmos, but at least they have transfinite quantities of ice-cream.
And at least half the flavours are comprehensible to mortal minds!
