Dead Sky: An Exalted Quest

[Gargulec]

[X] We get into Heaven, and without anyone noticing. You should, probably, praise me for that.

Click to shrink...

CIARA: "I," her voice drops very low; her hands close at the bars of your prison door, "should thank you for this?"

EMBASSY (VERY DIFFICULT):

CHECK SUCCESS

You pick at the edge of your prison clothes; you have been both washed during intake. You actually feel better.

THE CAPTAIN: What you did, actually, served a purpose. Remember that.

You smile narrowly, and face Ciara, surprised by your own calm.

"We have been imprisoned for my workplace misconduct," you explain. "Entirely bypassing sentinels of Heaven. Our arrival in Yu-Shan went unrecorded, other than in the intake records of this gaol, which should be trivial to destroy, and even then likely will never be consulted. This is the safest way to get into Heaven unnoticed, as long as you can deal with the complications. Which should be trivial to handle."

You peek out of the window, but the view is too narrow to let you see just which district you are in. None of the important ones, though - that much you know for sure. Next to you, Ciara is quiet.

CIARA: "That's pretty ingenious, actually," she admits, resentfully. "Well done, Bird Bones."

THE SORCER: Yes. Obviously it is. This was all a brilliant ploy, and even her dog-brain can understand this. Now that she is sufficiently impressed, make your move!

THE LOVERS: Yeah, go get her, tiger. She's impressed.

You swallow. The penalty for your confessed crimes is minor, and the cell is kind of cramped. If you stay here, you can stay close to Ciara, to the brawny heat of her massive body, to...

THE CAPTAIN: "Eyes on the road, ma'am."

[ ] Let's wait out the sentence. Shouldn't be more than a day.
[ ] Let's break out now and waste no time.
[ ] Thank you for praising me. It means a lot to me.

 

[Gargulec]

[X] Thank you for praising me. It means a lot to me.

Click to shrink...

PRESENCE (DIFFICULT):

CHECK FAILED

"It really does," you add, staring Ciara's dead in her chest. "You are very important in my life. Your approval is important to me."

THE CAPTAIN: On the road, ma'am!

You sense a faint desperation in her voice. You feel very ashamed, which is very familiar. Ciara shakes her head slowly, then walks through the cell door, her body passing through as if she was liquid. When it reconstitutes on the other side, she is no longer wearing her familiar skin, but rather the form of a long-limbed, dusky man with piercing blue eyes. The collar remains on his neck as a dainty silver necklace. Your own eyes are drawn to his large, beautiful hands.

CIARA: "I am going to check around. You stay here, and cool down a bit. I am going to pick you up later."

She leaves without giving you the time to protest. Again, you are alone.

THE LOVERS: And what have we learned today?

That you are brilliant and know how to infiltrate Heaven, sneaking right past the eyes of the Bureau of Destiny? That even Ciara can appreciate what you have accomplished.

THE LOVERS: Precisely. Nothing.

You sulk.

[ ] Wait out the rest of your sentence.
[ ] Break out of the prison, carefully.
[ ] Break out of the prison, sorcerously.

 

[Gargulec]

[X] Wait out the rest of your sentence.

Click to shrink...

To be entirely honest, the prison has some benefits. For example, it has an actual bed with an actual blanket - you wrap yourself in it, and no matter how coarse it is, being wrapped in a blanket just can't help but to improve your mood somewhat. And, considering how this is Yu-Shan, you should expect to be offered some food - they can afford to feed their prisoners in Heaven! You think.

THE CAPTAIN: They do. It's a familiar port, ma'am.

Oh. So, obviously, this is not the first time, and the sense of familiarity you are experiencing with being jailed goes way back. Oh well! All the more reason to expect food, which is not sorcerous mana. Again, you can't exactly remember that, but a significant part of you is convinced you have been sustaining yourself with nothing but the rose-colored flakes of celestial food which...

THE SORCERER: ...is the only nourishment a real sorcerer requires. What it is that you long for? Temporal luxuries? We are above it all.

Before you can formulate a response to a feature of the firnament demanding that you give up on food to better pursue power, you are interrupted by a slender man appearing in the door of your cell, leaning into the bars. As far as you can tell, he is shockingly and charmingly handsome, with gentle, loving featured marred by a perpetual smirk bolted onto his face. Bolted? No. Chiselled. There is something hard to him, in spite of the youthful softness; skin like marble, eyes like jewels...

OCCULT (NORMAL):

CHECK SUCCESS

THE SORCERER: The man you are looking at is a Dragon-Blood. A lesser kind of an Exalt, imbued with terrestrial powers instead of celestial magnificence. They rule Creation below, but here in Heaven they play the role that their kind was made for: that of servants and valets.

However tendentious this description is, it seems correct. The man looking at you through the door is a fellow Chosen. You smile to him; his smirk curls upwards.

HEAVEN'S DRAGON: Rough night, eh?

In his hand, there is a mug of something warm. He sips pointedly, waiting for you to respond.

[ ] Yes.
[ ] How do you figure?
[ ] I have nothing to say to a lesser Exalt.
[ ] Is this the first time I'm here?

 

[Gargulec]

[X] Is this the first time I'm here?

Click to shrink...

HEAVEN'S DRAGON: Tricky question, really. Your lot is really resistant to records.

He shrugs, and sips again. Is he familiar? You can't quite tell.

HEAVEN'S DARGON: However, I do have a series of spotty notes about admitting and releasing a member of the Bureau of Destiny for...

He lets his voice hang, as if trying to remember. He is obviously doing this for effect, but you let him have it. Finally, his smile straightens out somewhat.

HEAVEN'S DRAGON: Aggravated public indecency.

Perhaps the worst part is how utterly unsurprising this feels. In fact, you just nod, as if on a reflex. But - but maybe this holds a key to your past? You chew on your lip, imagining yourself in a situation of aggravated public indecency. What if this is how you recover your lost memories?

THE LOVERS: You should ask him for sordid details.

[ ] Couldn't have been me [lie].
[ ] Sounds like me.
[ ] Sounds like me. But remind me, just how aggravated?