- Location
- The North
Sounds like you succeeded on your awareness roll.
Dead Sky: An Exalted Quest
- Thread starter Gargulec
- Start date
- Fantasy
-
- Tags
- exalted (white wolf)
EVIDENCE OF HER PASSAGE 28
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
Bird Bones! Not even a name, but a nickname, and not even one given in endearment, but rather meant as a harsh-edged joke! Your feelings slide easily into deep tracks years of shame and humiliation have left. Bird Bones! Yet another bruise for your soul, yet another small shame to carry around, like a pebble in the shoe, too insignificant to be called a misery, and yet making itself felt with each step taken. You had once kept a tight ledger of those indignations, obsessively holding onto each little memory of humiliation and folly. Now, those memories are all gone, and yet a weight remains in their place, a phantom pain mourning after the amputated extremities of your soul.
You had a name once that was sleek and powerful, and which you carried in secrecy and pride. Now, it's gone, and your name is Bird Bones.
Once you realize it, there is no more holding back of all the devils hounding you, even if you no longer hound them. The taut, little feeling that had nestled itself underneath your pierced heart finally opens, and let me tell you how: like a spool of steel wire, wound so tight that the metal itself groans with the stress of being held. Maybe there was a time when you could have unrolled it safely, straightening the steel inch by inch. But that time, too, had been lost, so now it opens, and it cuts.
It's not fair. It's not fair that you have lost all memory of yourself, but for the overwhelming sense of loss. You did as the Captain said, and sifted through the flotsam in your soul, and what did you find? A ship's manifest for what you had once contained, and now could only register as empty room and knotted scar tissue. It's not fair! Whoever did this to you could have at least granted you blissful oblivion, the destruction of self that would not leave this sorry wreck you glanced in the mirror.
Crying, too, comes easily, stilted sobs drawn from some ugly inside-place of yours, easy to mistake for the croaking and crowing of toads and ravens. It doesn't feel good; it doesn't feel like a dam bursting, or some secret hurt being finally tended to. If anything, it feels like going through the motions of loss and misery, and the worst part is that you have forgotten how good you were at that.
Your stars have nothing to say; and even if they were to speak, it's not words that could bring you comfort but that which can never cross the wide-open celestial span. This, too, is a familiar hurt.
But there is always an ending, and the black moment is no different. Once you have sobbed your last, and let the sorry and shame withdraw to their low tide, you are left alone by the fire, warm, tired, and so far away from everything you have ever wanted, whatever those things were. But with flame, a voice comes back, the one that could never leave you, not even at the bottom of you.
THE SORCERER: You know what would cheer you up.
There is no question.
[ ] Think about power.
[ ] Think about power.
[ ] Think about power.
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- Location
- ?
[X] Think about power.
- Location
- an unseen void
- Pronouns
- Any
never have I wanted a grimace response more
Fayhem
Definitely not an escaped SCP
- Location
- At large
- Pronouns
- He/Him
*a name
How could you choose something so controversial yet so brave?
Poor Birb. You do rather feel for her, awful little mass of insecurity and malfeasance though she is.
THOUGHT: Peaks and Valleys
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
In the fifth year of your Exaltation, you endeavoured to initiate yourself into the Sapphire Circle of Sorcery. In open defiance of your teachers, you have mastered a series of self-destructive breathing exercises, which you have then used to launch your soul into travel across the dark between the stars, where, according to the legends of the Ivy Manse of Secrets, Jupiter had once hidden all the knowledge too dangerous to let it touch the terrestrial realm. You were sure to find what you were looking for there: not for nothing is the Second Circle of sorcery also called the Celestial one.
Having navigated your way there, you were surprised to see it inhabited. The forbidden gods of the reverse side of Night did not take kindly to your trespass, but it was too late for you to turn back. They pursued you across their domain as you raided their shrines and temples, seeking illumination in the realm opposite to light. Never in your life have you felt a joy as pure as during that mad dash from one star-shadow to another, bleeding a comet's trail of emerald Essence. But, of course, those gods, those brooding sentinels condemned to a forever vigil by the Maiden of Secrets herself, could not be outran, could not be outwitted, and certainly could not be overpowered by a youthful Exalt such as you. In the course of your escape, you have the way back, sinking deeper and deeper into the black, the killer sky-sea serpents of Nox drawing ever closer. You laughed even as they coiled around your soul-form, and began to drag you towards the sacrificial altar in the wreckage of the constellation of the Mask. You laughed, because if your plan was not going to work, what point was there to living a life that was small and limited?
Your teacher arrived in the nick of time, the Greater Sign of Jupiter burning in her hand with the authority of the Incarna themselves. She scattered the shade-beasts, struck a terrible blow to the Long Night King who about to make an offering out of you, and then before that fell deity could recover, reeled your soul back into your body.
To describe her as furious with you would be as if to describe Venus as beautiful or Saturn as brooding. What you attempted shouldn't be allowed to Sidereals a dozen times your age, seasoned and experienced in all the arts necessary to survive the trek to the opposite side of Night. In fact, it shouldn't have been possible for one as inexperienced as you to perform the soul projection, and if not for her assistance, you would have been surely destroyed or worse, registered on Creation's sky as a meteor falling, burning in its folly. For hours, she scolded you, threatened with all kinds censure, reminded you of all the lessons of hers you did not heed, and promised that with an attitude like that you could never find your way to the Celestial Circle as it required more than talent: it required wisdom. All through her lecture, you laughed, and laughed, and when she finally demanded to know what set you in such a good mood, and if your mind was still there, you asked to be brought to the training grounds of the Ivy Manse of Secrets. There, you picked up your ritual sword, and cut a path for the essence of sky to animate the earth and bring forth the Magma Kraken.
Once the fire had been put out, you explained to your slack-jawed teacher that she was absolutely right that you could never find a way back from the night's other kingdom by yourself. But you figured that if someone else brought you back, you could maybe pilfer enough secrets from behind the stars to initiate yourself into the Celestial Circle ahead of the usual schedule.
She called you a prodigy, a moron, and a woman who would sorely regret the next decade of her life, but at least your next assigned taught you how to love the parts of Creation that are least amicable to human life, and how to practice on your own terms, and without anyone to scold you when things go wrong.
Having navigated your way there, you were surprised to see it inhabited. The forbidden gods of the reverse side of Night did not take kindly to your trespass, but it was too late for you to turn back. They pursued you across their domain as you raided their shrines and temples, seeking illumination in the realm opposite to light. Never in your life have you felt a joy as pure as during that mad dash from one star-shadow to another, bleeding a comet's trail of emerald Essence. But, of course, those gods, those brooding sentinels condemned to a forever vigil by the Maiden of Secrets herself, could not be outran, could not be outwitted, and certainly could not be overpowered by a youthful Exalt such as you. In the course of your escape, you have the way back, sinking deeper and deeper into the black, the killer sky-sea serpents of Nox drawing ever closer. You laughed even as they coiled around your soul-form, and began to drag you towards the sacrificial altar in the wreckage of the constellation of the Mask. You laughed, because if your plan was not going to work, what point was there to living a life that was small and limited?
Your teacher arrived in the nick of time, the Greater Sign of Jupiter burning in her hand with the authority of the Incarna themselves. She scattered the shade-beasts, struck a terrible blow to the Long Night King who about to make an offering out of you, and then before that fell deity could recover, reeled your soul back into your body.
To describe her as furious with you would be as if to describe Venus as beautiful or Saturn as brooding. What you attempted shouldn't be allowed to Sidereals a dozen times your age, seasoned and experienced in all the arts necessary to survive the trek to the opposite side of Night. In fact, it shouldn't have been possible for one as inexperienced as you to perform the soul projection, and if not for her assistance, you would have been surely destroyed or worse, registered on Creation's sky as a meteor falling, burning in its folly. For hours, she scolded you, threatened with all kinds censure, reminded you of all the lessons of hers you did not heed, and promised that with an attitude like that you could never find your way to the Celestial Circle as it required more than talent: it required wisdom. All through her lecture, you laughed, and laughed, and when she finally demanded to know what set you in such a good mood, and if your mind was still there, you asked to be brought to the training grounds of the Ivy Manse of Secrets. There, you picked up your ritual sword, and cut a path for the essence of sky to animate the earth and bring forth the Magma Kraken.
Once the fire had been put out, you explained to your slack-jawed teacher that she was absolutely right that you could never find a way back from the night's other kingdom by yourself. But you figured that if someone else brought you back, you could maybe pilfer enough secrets from behind the stars to initiate yourself into the Celestial Circle ahead of the usual schedule.
She called you a prodigy, a moron, and a woman who would sorely regret the next decade of her life, but at least your next assigned taught you how to love the parts of Creation that are least amicable to human life, and how to practice on your own terms, and without anyone to scold you when things go wrong.
Peaks and Valleys (Complete)
You have taken so many shortcuts on your path to power that it is frankly surprising you have not gotten yourself killed on it just yet, though not for the lack of trying. On the other hand, the fact that your absurdly unwise strategies in the pursuit of cosmic power and sorcerous supremacy have actually borne out results attests either to an Incarna-offending luck, or once-in-a-generation type of talent. Take your pick, and your power trip.
Occult +2 (An actual prodigy)
Navigate +1 (Chased through the sky)
Integrity -1 (Learned all the wrong lessons)
Special: Your sorcery is more powerful and less predictable than it would otherwise be.
Emptying the Holds
You have suffered what should be a mortal blow, and somehow managed to shrug it off. This is troubling, because usually people don't live through being killed this thoroughly, and yet here we are. There is a number of questions this invites, starting with "am I dead sure I'm still alive?", then going through "how was that even possible?" and "maybe this is just a hallucination of a dying mind?", and ending with "what if I am, for all intents and purposes, absolutely unkillable by normal means?" You get a feel that the answers may come in handy.
Medicine -2 (Infuriating violation of the laws of physique)
Fortitude +2 (Built different)
24 hours.
Those Violet Sorrows
You are on a first-name basis with your Death, or at least it feels that way. She also calls you a "sister", and you find it difficult not to see her with the kind of sympathy usually restricted only to the closest kin. This is unfortunate because, unless she was particularly dishonest with you, she is nothing but a metaphor, which means that your kindness is wasted on her. Still, there may be some use in trying to find out how, exactly, you two became so very familiar, and familial.
Embassy +1 (I see Death as people)
12 hours.
Most Deceitful Star
The Crow represents the end of illusions and dreams. It is inevitability and the recognition thereof. Among all the stars that could shine on you, this constellation in particular casts a light of bare truth and unquestionable honesty. You are not on the best terms with the Crow, and are in fact convinced that he is full of shit and trying to lie to you. Setting aside the concerning tendency to anthropomorphize and hold conversations with celestial bodies, there is an interesting question to be asked about your frustrations with concepts such as "impossibility," and "recognition of one's limits".
Occult +1 ('Impossible' is just a word)
Presence -1 (Somewhat unreasonable)
12 hours.
Trouble at the House of Serenity
Your relationship with the House of Serenity, also known as the Cerulean Lute of Harmony, can best be described as somewhat vexed. You have received the blessings of Venus wrong. Your desire exists under the sign of Jupiter. When it comes to love, your stars take on an Abyssal aspect. You are rapidly running out of ideas for good metaphors for all of your many psycho-sexual hang-ups. Seek help.
Integrity -1 (Thoroughly compromised)
Occult +1 (Rampant sublimation)
24 hours.
You are currently thinking of Peaks and Valleys (Complete) and Emptying the Holds. You can swap out your thoughts when you sleep.
You have taken so many shortcuts on your path to power that it is frankly surprising you have not gotten yourself killed on it just yet, though not for the lack of trying. On the other hand, the fact that your absurdly unwise strategies in the pursuit of cosmic power and sorcerous supremacy have actually borne out results attests either to an Incarna-offending luck, or once-in-a-generation type of talent. Take your pick, and your power trip.
Occult +2 (An actual prodigy)
Navigate +1 (Chased through the sky)
Integrity -1 (Learned all the wrong lessons)
Special: Your sorcery is more powerful and less predictable than it would otherwise be.
Emptying the Holds
You have suffered what should be a mortal blow, and somehow managed to shrug it off. This is troubling, because usually people don't live through being killed this thoroughly, and yet here we are. There is a number of questions this invites, starting with "am I dead sure I'm still alive?", then going through "how was that even possible?" and "maybe this is just a hallucination of a dying mind?", and ending with "what if I am, for all intents and purposes, absolutely unkillable by normal means?" You get a feel that the answers may come in handy.
Medicine -2 (Infuriating violation of the laws of physique)
Fortitude +2 (Built different)
24 hours.
Those Violet Sorrows
You are on a first-name basis with your Death, or at least it feels that way. She also calls you a "sister", and you find it difficult not to see her with the kind of sympathy usually restricted only to the closest kin. This is unfortunate because, unless she was particularly dishonest with you, she is nothing but a metaphor, which means that your kindness is wasted on her. Still, there may be some use in trying to find out how, exactly, you two became so very familiar, and familial.
Embassy +1 (I see Death as people)
12 hours.
Most Deceitful Star
The Crow represents the end of illusions and dreams. It is inevitability and the recognition thereof. Among all the stars that could shine on you, this constellation in particular casts a light of bare truth and unquestionable honesty. You are not on the best terms with the Crow, and are in fact convinced that he is full of shit and trying to lie to you. Setting aside the concerning tendency to anthropomorphize and hold conversations with celestial bodies, there is an interesting question to be asked about your frustrations with concepts such as "impossibility," and "recognition of one's limits".
Occult +1 ('Impossible' is just a word)
Presence -1 (Somewhat unreasonable)
12 hours.
Trouble at the House of Serenity
Your relationship with the House of Serenity, also known as the Cerulean Lute of Harmony, can best be described as somewhat vexed. You have received the blessings of Venus wrong. Your desire exists under the sign of Jupiter. When it comes to love, your stars take on an Abyssal aspect. You are rapidly running out of ideas for good metaphors for all of your many psycho-sexual hang-ups. Seek help.
Integrity -1 (Thoroughly compromised)
Occult +1 (Rampant sublimation)
24 hours.
You are currently thinking of Peaks and Valleys (Complete) and Emptying the Holds. You can swap out your thoughts when you sleep.
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Fayhem
Definitely not an escaped SCP
- Location
- At large
- Pronouns
- He/Him
*a dozen times
Well, Birb's genius lunacy is nothing if not consistent over time, it seems. She really is just fantastically bonkers.
We should print this on our business cards
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
Also, just to nix some speculation in the bud. An earlier version of that update included a failed check leading to Bird mistaking Ciara's affect for genuinely nice, but there was nowhere interesting I could take it, so I ended up nixing it.
EVIDENCE OF HER PASSAGE 29
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
It's still there - you reassure yourself again. No matter how much have you lost, how much has been taken away from you, this is beyond theft, beyond reproach. You soothe yourself watching the, and imagining the flames as the surging, crackling furnace of your soul. At some point, your surface thoughts fade, and the bonfire's crackle becomes the whole of your Creation. In that, you rest, and let the night sneak up on you.
When the wheels of your mind start to spin again, you feel better. Your chest hurts far less, the deep bruises left by your own monster mostly faded now. When you think about it, you find yourself still hungry, and still tired, but a part of you tells you that this is just how things are.
THE GAUNTLET: In all that you do, cut away that which is least necessary, and carry on without its burden.
You repeat those words of advice to yourself, as if to find sustenance in them, and surprisingly, it almost works. You end up no less famished, but at least convinced that food isn't a necessity just yet, and so, should not be a concern. Unlike the strange and incessant buzzing which you are now hearing, like the sound of a swarm of tiny flies trapped. But flies, in the middle of the winter? You close your eyes to focus, and when you do, the sound only grows louder. It takes you a moment to realize where it originates, and when you do, you shuffle towards your bag, almost afraid.
AWARENESS (NORMAL):
CHECK SUCCESS.
THE CROW: Not almost. You might have forgotten this voice, but not the right way to hear it.
As usual, you have no idea what he is talking about, and yet find out that you can tell where the skittering noise is coming from even without looking. Still, you have to be sure. You reach into the bag, and dig out the starmetal frame. It trembles as you hold in your hand, and shakes when you put it down on the ground, the black contained within contorting and ripping against itself like...
OCCULT (DIFFICULT):
CHECK SUCCESS.
...like a bubble of something inimical to the shape of Creation around it, struggling not to implode against the weight of existence surrounding it. You watch it pulse, and the buzzing in your ears expands and resolves itself into a hundred voices whispering as one. Worse, calling for help.
???: ...we are here our children help us hear us come for us we are here our children deliver us we are here our children hear us come from us save us deliver us destroy our children do you hear us...
THE CROW: You are not the only one who can hear this.
[ ] Run out to warn Ciara that the Pursuers are coming.
[ ] Try to communicate with the void.
Fayhem
Definitely not an escaped SCP
- Location
- At large
- Pronouns
- He/Him
*watching the fire
We are really just made of good coping mechanisms, aren't we.
Well, I can't say I didn't see this one coming.
EVIDENCE OF HER PASSAGE 30
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
You should probably warn Ciara, the Pursuers are coming and...
THE SORCERER: Have you truly lost yourself?
What?
THE SORCERER: Your slave-thug will handle herself. Do you not see the opportunity in front of you? Do you not feel the power emanating from this work of your hands?
It's not emanating, at least that is not the word you would use - it's more like an invisible thin layer of viscous oil pooling out from where the frame stands on the floor, slowly spreading across the cabin. The buzzing grows louder, closer, more immediate.
THE CAPTAIN: Ma'am! It's a maelstrom you're headed into!
THE SORCERER: All the more reason to plumb it! No power comes from peaceful places of the world!
You crouch. You were wrong: the layer is not invisible. It's only subtle; what it covers loses its contour and hue, becoming lesser, drained, faded. Fascinating. Beautiful. Terrifying.
???: …our children hear our children come deliver us our children deliver us take us back plunge us back our children we are here...
You breathe in. You extend your hand towards it, almost touching this strange surface.
"What are you?"
The invisible oil drains back into the frame in a heartbeat, withdrawing from the world too fast too see. The void compresses into a single black point, dense enough to drill through the surface of Creation and let the Chaos flood back into what had been stolen from it, because all existence is a lie and an imposition thrown upon the primal purity of nothing.
THE CAPTAIN: Ma'am, I think you should drown.
What? Why is-
THE LOVERS: What doesn't exist cannot be hated. Just die.
Of course.
THE GAUNTLET: The choice is easy. Existence is suffering. Nonexistence is freedom. Why are you even here?
You are no longer sure. You were chasing after power, were you not? Or for some other reason. You don't remember it anymore. Probably wasn't very important.
THE SORCERER: Power, yes. Have you ever thought about the cost of it? About what we did?
INTEGRITY (DIFFICULT):
CHECK SUCCESS.
Wait. You aren't really the Sorcerer, are you?
THE SORCERER: You wanted to speak with me, so I am now. Are you not used to this by now? But you still have not answered the question. Do you dwell much on the consequences of our power?
You look around, but you are still sitting in the cabin. Nothing has changed. The frame rests still now The fire burns a bit lower, but not unnaturally so. Nothing has happened, other than...
THE CROW: You have invited something in.
Wait. So this is-
THE GAUNTLET: Cut this crap and cease existing. Do I really have to explain why there is no other way out of misery you live?
No, you are not going to kill yourself just because a voice in your head tells you to, this is inane. What is going on? Are you possesed?
THE SORCERER: A trite concept. Ones of our station do not get possessed. Only sometimes, we get to see clearly the way that things are.
THE LOVERS: You hate yourself and you know that no one you love will ever love you back. And yet, you persist in existence. Perhaps you just like to suffer?
You try to take a step back, but your soul laughs at you. The truth you're hearing is not something you can run away from.
THE CAPTAIN: A journey without a destination is a folly, ma'am, and it is high time you stopped.
This is stupid. Do they really think they can convince you? They are just figments of your imagination, a way for your soul to process its mooring to the celestial starscape. And besides, it is not like you are directionless, you have just briefly lost yourself on the road to accomplishing the Work, but the journey is not yet over. The Captain has said it himself, not so long ago.
THE CAPTAIN: Yes, but I was mistaken, and it is my duty now to report the truth back to you, ma'am. There is no destination. We are directionless. But the bottom of the sea is always ready to welcome us.
THE LOVERS: Making fun of you gets tiring after a time. Even I can take pity on something as miserable as you, and point you towards a way out.
Fuck off! You are not interested in any of this. You wanted to communicate with whatever is trapped in that frame, and learn-
THE SORCERER: And we are being taught. We being made to see. Is truth not the ultimate power? Do we not want for it?
Your mouth is dry; a splitting headache buds between your temples. This is wrong. This is beyond wrong. You...
AWARENESS (DIFFICULT):
CHECK SUCCESS.
THE CROW: You need me. I can lead you out. Or, if I am also compromised, lead you to disaster. You have no way of telling which will happen.
[ ] Trust the Crow.
[ ] Don't trust the Crow a liar.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Trust the Crow.
Ohhh I like this. Interface screw, colonized skills... A very good sign! Which is why we gotta trust it. Trust the voice.
(Also I appreciate that the skills keep their voices while corrupted this way, which is really cute.)
Ohhh I like this. Interface screw, colonized skills... A very good sign! Which is why we gotta trust it. Trust the voice.
(Also I appreciate that the skills keep their voices while corrupted this way, which is really cute.)
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EVIDENCE OF HER PASSAGE 31
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
THE LOVERS: Really? Him? Listening to the one who has brought you nothing but pain, and thinking him your rescuer? Now that's really pathetic.
THE CROW: She has a point there.
She? Is it really her, still, and not just something mimicking her voice to harm?
THE CROW: Oh, no. It's still her. She is just seeing things differently now. You must understand that you really are neither possessed, nor corrupted. But you are compromised.
Compromised how?
THE CROW: There is a reason why you don't like to listen to me. Anyway, I need you to answer a question for me. Do you actually want to live?
THE GAUNTLET: She wants to, and that is precisely the problem. She is wanting. And there is an easy way to stop that.
THE CROW: I am not asking you, I'm asking her. Bird Bones, do you want to live? And know that you can't lie to me.
For moment that is far too long, you hesitate on the answer. But then, you find it.
"Yes."
Your voice sounds strange as you speak; you hear yourself as if coming from extremely far away.
AWARENESS (EXTRAORDINARY):
CHECK SUCCESS
It carries with it a very faint echo, as if of someone shouting, or laughing. You turn your head around, and see silver light bleed through the gap between the door and the threshold.
THE CAPTAIN: You have no idea what's going on again. You will keep getting lost and shipwrecked over and over, increasingly confused until either your mind gives in under strain, or you stop. Ma'am, I beg you. Choose the option that is easier on us all.
THE CROW: You say you want to live but at least four-fifths of your soul disagree.
At least? You keep glancing at the silver light. It worries you - it makes you worried for someone.
THE LOVERS: He thinks your suffering is amusing, and so wants it to continue. And so, wants you to live.
THE CROW: This is not inaccurate, but it is not the whole truth either. But enough about me. As I was saying, you want to live, but your soul doesn't. So, tell me, why?
[ ] Because I still have not finished the Work.
[ ] Because some day I will get Ciara to handle me in the right way.
[ ] Because the mountains are so very beautiful even in the dead of winter.
[ ] Because my death is not yet destined.
[ ] I don't know why, but I know that I do.
[ ] I think you are trying to corner me with a trick question.
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Wade Garrett
Just trying to do the right thing
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
[X] Because I still have not finished the Work.
Fayhem
Definitely not an escaped SCP
- Location
- At large
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There is either a period or part of the sentence missing after "The frame rests still now".
*the misery
Well, this is certainly a development! Do we have... a fragment of a Neverborn? Cool, cool, cool. Very cool. Super cool. No problems here!
EVIDENCE OF HER PASSAGE 32
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
THE CROW: A good reason. This has always been your lifeline, hasn't it? The one thing that kept you going, even when your closest friends turned against you?
The question marks are irrelevant. He is telling you the truth.
THE GAUNTLET: He is about to hurt you very badly, but you can still avoid it.
THE CROW: I am about to hurt you very badly, but if you avoid it, you are never making it out. Are you ready?
No. You hate pain. You don't want it. But if there is no other way out... you don't want to die.
THE CROW: Correct answer. Also, the Work is impossible. Which will not stop you, and you will continue pursuing it no matter what, because you have bound your fate to its enactment, and pinned all your hopes and dreams on an act that even the witch-queens of the fallen age you so idolize would have thought a folly. And you will keep failing in this pursuit, and your failures will hurt you, and others. Bad.
THE CAPTAIN: This is true, ma'am.
THE LOVERS: You are a fool if you haven't realized this sooner.
THE GAUNTLET: If only you had killed yourself, you wouldn't have to hear this now.
THE SORCERER: No matter how great you are, some peaks will always remain beyond your reach.
THE CROW: Now, knowing this, knowing the extent of your folly, and the impossibility of escaping it, tell me, do you still want to live?
[ ] Yes, I have no choice.
[ ] Yes, and fuck you and your word-games.
[ ] Yes, and I will prove you wrong.
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- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Yes, and I will prove you wrong.
EMBRACE HUBRIS
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
A coward's word, etc etc, obvious jokes out of the way.
I do feel like Bird doesn't know how to back down though, and would it be fun if she did? Probably not!
Wade Garrett
Just trying to do the right thing
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
It's only hubris if we fail! Or stop trying.
EVIDENCE OF HER PASSAGE 33
Gargulec
impact!
- Location
- a garden
THE CROW: You will try. Over and over again. You will scour the sky looking for answers, and when you find them, you will discard them. And we we will all keep you company through thick and thin, through wonder and wild desire, through madness and loss, and it will be the stuff of legends. But you will not win, and one day, there will come a failure that is too much too shoulder, and you will stop. Because baby, don't you know?
"There is always an ending."
You hate this scripture. But the words ring true, in a way that only the stars can ever be true: cold, uncaring, undeniable, impossibly beautiful. To everything, there is an ending. To folly, an ending. To desire, an ending. To power, an ending. To chase, an ending. To hope, an ending. To life, an ending. To death, an ending. To endings, an ending, because nothing ever ends, only turns, and what peace the void has to offer is a lie, and you don't need it.
You watch the starmetal frame come to rest, the black slash trapped inside pulsing slowly, desperately wanting to be freed from its prison, even though this freedom impossible. Somewhere, a memory stirs, of a well at the bottom of things, and a sympathy for that which wishes only to suffer no more, and which will suffer forevermore.
THOUGHT UNLOCKED: Death Be Not Proud
???: ...no she almost understood this is terrifying we do not want to be alone we are lone our children where are our children deliver us deliver us our children bring her show her teach her deliver us our children...
Behind you, silver silhouettes the door. Your head hurts savagely, but at least...
THE SORCERER: We are not done with this thing. We will master it yet. It will serve the Work.
...but at least you are back. You sag. Then, you remember you are probably not done with trouble for today.
The door opens violently, letting in a blinding silver blaze. It's Ciara.
CIARA: "All done."
In her left hand, there is what appears to be a man's leg, a dark metal greaves still tied to it. They are badly dented.
AWARENESS (NORMAL):
CHECK SUCCESS.
You are, somehow, certain that she has just finished using to beat someone else to death.
Other than the lost limb, her arms are covered in blood, all the way to the shoulders. Some more of it has splashed over her face, and when she tries to wipe it clean with the palm of her hand, she only ends up smearing it around more. Also, there is a spear driven into her stomach, all the way through. The shaft is broken, and the wound is neither bleeding, nor seemingly concerning her.
CIARA: "What are you staring at? Don't you give me shit about hygiene."
Slowly, she raises the leg to her mouth and takes a big bite, as if challenging you to say something.
[ ] "Was this all of them?"
[ ] "I think I managed to get briefly possessed by the power of the Void."
[ ] "Do you realize there is a spear in your stomach?"
[ ] "Are you sure this is safe to eat?"
[ ] "You should wash yourself, actually."
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- Location
- an unseen void
- Pronouns
- Any
[X] "Was this all of them?"