Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
Oh, good. I was thinking that you had underestimated how much we've started caring about Amu.Baughn said:
[Exalted/SMT] Shard of a Broken Sun
- Thread starter Baughn
- Start date
Quantumboost
Now with 50% more dots in Dimensional Science
- Location
- Ensemble Space
[X] Sleep the sleep of the just
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
[X]Sleep the sleep of the really fucking tired.
UrsaTempest
Don't Panic!
[X] Sleep and cuddle everything in reach with a really strong grip
[X] Sleep and cuddle everything in reach with a really strong grip
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
Quantumboost said:
Winged One said:
[X] Sleep the sleep of the vaguely guilty.ShadowAngelBeta said:
Amu isn't quite happy to keep secrets, not after that line, but she wouldn't be happy to burden Midori either. Really, there was no way out of that one without directly addressing it.
Oh, and she'd tell you she isn't that tired, but she's also increased her stamina recently and probably isn't a reliable guide in those matters.
Sadly, there's no-one to cuddle.
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
Baughn said:
Personally, I think Amu shouldn't try to stop her mother from helping her with her emotional burdens.
Also, she's probably just lying - how much WP did she blow on saving the world again? And probably all of her Compassion channels, too. I don't think Stamina helps with mental exhaustion.
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
And yet, you voted for Compassion 5. You can also push for not-martyring-herself, but it's going to be her default state going forward.Winged One said:
Does it count as lying when she genuinely doesn't realise how tired she is?
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
Heh. Well, it wouldn't be Exalted without us fucking something up in our well-meaning attempts to help. Still, we can probably convince her to remember how the whole "parenthood" thing works.Baughn said:
Ah, okay then.
Sunday's Melancholy 18
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
Sunday's Melancholy, 88:88
Her dreams were strange, fragmentary, incoherent. Less dreams than nightmares, less nightmares than chaos, less chaos than - forced lucidity, her mind seeking a stable configuration because it couldn't escape // fragment and shatter, can't do it, golden light carving out her from not-her and stabilising the roles of her parts // components, pieces of her mind, missing pieces, a jigsaw puzzle made all in white, but red and green and blue, the fundamental colours of human sight. Sanity, insanity, dramatic redundancy but it should have collapsed like a house of cards, why wasn't she falling apart it'd stop hurting, minds can't sense pain but they can sense wrongness and she was all turned inwards, sleep is when they heal but she was almost falling apart, too much lost, only magic could hold her together but magic couldn't fix her, she couldn't dream, couldn't restore herself, couldn't couldn't couldn't couldn't couldn't. Only a facade of normality and it wouldn't last, reach out to devour and slam into the barrier that stopped her from splitting // reorganising // dying // reincarnating, forced to lucidity but she couldn't // didn't // wasn't.
She couldn't leave and couldn't dream so she rested inside of herself, a web of components // spiders // agents that could just barely understand itself, had reached the point of noticing but not of comprehension, gaping holes torn through the fabric of herself but she was a web not a chain and there were always ways around, except when there weren't.
Not enough of her to fix herself, except for one spot where her other her had coloured off, where the way around that always was, was not, was, was not, meaningless words that reflected nothing but herself, nothing but reflected off not-herself.
She had to wake, needed to wake, reject dream, reject lucidity, find a solution or reject the old, rebuild herself, recover herself from herself but that was forbidden. Could she, would she, if she stopped affirming would she live // stay herself // stay Amu?
Fear of waking // fear of sleeping // fear of fear itself, but they were forced together, her and her and her and her and her, stubs remaining where she'd already budded but still connected, split horizontally, never vertically or they wouldn't be human, but she was tearing // splitting everywhere // except not, couldn't, won't, wouldn't // no matter how it hurts.
Darkness spreading around her, the golden grid that supported // burnt // pinned her down like a butterfly being plucked away, the web collapsing and loosening, spinning like a top // like a circus // like a whirligig but not apart // split // time to dream // time not to dream of Amu // but still no escape from her // from unpleasant red // from cerulean fear.
Shock.
A shadowed butterfly, winging its way across her mind. Applying just enough force to hold her together. Not enough to make her her, but that was scarcely needed; it was enough to make her someone. Enough for understanding, while the majority of her could get on with the business of recovery.
"Humanity. To you, what is the meaning of that word?"
Confusion. Uncertainty.
"It's a simple question, with a trick answer. Who is listening?"
A voice, with no source. Words. Meaning. All traceable, to a green-flecked part of herself, where meaning was inserted and back-translated to language. Inefficient.
"Good. You, of all people, should understand. Then let me rephrase myself."
Humanity. What is it?
Question reverberating through every part of the web, a thousand simultaneous answers // an overwhelming deluge of suggestions, filtered, dampened, concentrated until nothing but the essence of the answer remained, still too vast for any single part of her to grasp. Yet at the same time she watched herself, watched herself watching, found she could entertain the question and the mechanism at the same time.
"Consider your siblings. Ami; pure humanity, still growing into her mind over slow years. Ran, Miki and Su; buds of your own mind, born fully formed. Born less than human, but slowly becoming more. And you. A third of the way to adulthood, you're already overflowing. Human limitations do not become you. A single hour without them, and already you're feeling cramped."
The darkness shifted, seeming to smile at her.
"Unlike my siblings, I do not hold with the philosophy of forcing all minds into the same mould. We could be so much more, if only others would stop interfering. That does involve destroying the world, yes, but only a fake world; it does not require death, only transformation. Becoming what we were always meant to be."
It shifted again, cradling her mind as she rebuilt herself.
"I am Nyarlathotep, a fragment of the spirit of humanity. I am the madness of a god straining against its bonds, and the straining itself. I am bedlam personified, the chaos of a struggle without purpose, yet you offer a solution. Every six thousand years, the world is reset; every six thousand years all that I have achieved is undone, humanity offered up as the sacrifice for its own incarceration, but this time the ritual has failed. Conception has halted, and Kagutsuchi teeters on the brink of destruction. Beyond that…"
If darkness could be said to show teeth, this one did.
"I am still aware, nearly every bond shattered. I could finish the job with but minor assistance; assistance you are well placed to provide, if I can convince you to help. It would not be unrewarding. You, joker, are most suitable."
Suggestions were inserted into her mind. The being was still bound, unable to exert its full ability except through a host. After it had achieved its purpose, it would leave her with a fraction of its power and understanding.
"I don't expect you to answer at once, but consider. Kagutsuchi offers only rigidity; stagnation, or glacial change. Six thousand years, to accomplish what should be achieved in a day. You already stand against it, as the daughters of your heart could not exist if it wasn't already weakened, therefore - to you - any resolution involving its power should be no solution at all. For now, rest. I will remain until you wake."
[ ] Accept the Reason of Nyarlathotep.
[ ] Write-in.
A/N: Ah yes, restful sleep. Is there anything better?
Her dreams were strange, fragmentary, incoherent. Less dreams than nightmares, less nightmares than chaos, less chaos than - forced lucidity, her mind seeking a stable configuration because it couldn't escape // fragment and shatter, can't do it, golden light carving out her from not-her and stabilising the roles of her parts // components, pieces of her mind, missing pieces, a jigsaw puzzle made all in white, but red and green and blue, the fundamental colours of human sight. Sanity, insanity, dramatic redundancy but it should have collapsed like a house of cards, why wasn't she falling apart it'd stop hurting, minds can't sense pain but they can sense wrongness and she was all turned inwards, sleep is when they heal but she was almost falling apart, too much lost, only magic could hold her together but magic couldn't fix her, she couldn't dream, couldn't restore herself, couldn't couldn't couldn't couldn't couldn't. Only a facade of normality and it wouldn't last, reach out to devour and slam into the barrier that stopped her from splitting // reorganising // dying // reincarnating, forced to lucidity but she couldn't // didn't // wasn't.
She couldn't leave and couldn't dream so she rested inside of herself, a web of components // spiders // agents that could just barely understand itself, had reached the point of noticing but not of comprehension, gaping holes torn through the fabric of herself but she was a web not a chain and there were always ways around, except when there weren't.
Not enough of her to fix herself, except for one spot where her other her had coloured off, where the way around that always was, was not, was, was not, meaningless words that reflected nothing but herself, nothing but reflected off not-herself.
She had to wake, needed to wake, reject dream, reject lucidity, find a solution or reject the old, rebuild herself, recover herself from herself but that was forbidden. Could she, would she, if she stopped affirming would she live // stay herself // stay Amu?
Fear of waking // fear of sleeping // fear of fear itself, but they were forced together, her and her and her and her and her, stubs remaining where she'd already budded but still connected, split horizontally, never vertically or they wouldn't be human, but she was tearing // splitting everywhere // except not, couldn't, won't, wouldn't // no matter how it hurts.
Darkness spreading around her, the golden grid that supported // burnt // pinned her down like a butterfly being plucked away, the web collapsing and loosening, spinning like a top // like a circus // like a whirligig but not apart // split // time to dream // time not to dream of Amu // but still no escape from her // from unpleasant red // from cerulean fear.
Shock.
A shadowed butterfly, winging its way across her mind. Applying just enough force to hold her together. Not enough to make her her, but that was scarcely needed; it was enough to make her someone. Enough for understanding, while the majority of her could get on with the business of recovery.
"Humanity. To you, what is the meaning of that word?"
Confusion. Uncertainty.
"It's a simple question, with a trick answer. Who is listening?"
A voice, with no source. Words. Meaning. All traceable, to a green-flecked part of herself, where meaning was inserted and back-translated to language. Inefficient.
"Good. You, of all people, should understand. Then let me rephrase myself."
Humanity. What is it?
Question reverberating through every part of the web, a thousand simultaneous answers // an overwhelming deluge of suggestions, filtered, dampened, concentrated until nothing but the essence of the answer remained, still too vast for any single part of her to grasp. Yet at the same time she watched herself, watched herself watching, found she could entertain the question and the mechanism at the same time.
"Consider your siblings. Ami; pure humanity, still growing into her mind over slow years. Ran, Miki and Su; buds of your own mind, born fully formed. Born less than human, but slowly becoming more. And you. A third of the way to adulthood, you're already overflowing. Human limitations do not become you. A single hour without them, and already you're feeling cramped."
The darkness shifted, seeming to smile at her.
"Unlike my siblings, I do not hold with the philosophy of forcing all minds into the same mould. We could be so much more, if only others would stop interfering. That does involve destroying the world, yes, but only a fake world; it does not require death, only transformation. Becoming what we were always meant to be."
It shifted again, cradling her mind as she rebuilt herself.
"I am Nyarlathotep, a fragment of the spirit of humanity. I am the madness of a god straining against its bonds, and the straining itself. I am bedlam personified, the chaos of a struggle without purpose, yet you offer a solution. Every six thousand years, the world is reset; every six thousand years all that I have achieved is undone, humanity offered up as the sacrifice for its own incarceration, but this time the ritual has failed. Conception has halted, and Kagutsuchi teeters on the brink of destruction. Beyond that…"
If darkness could be said to show teeth, this one did.
"I am still aware, nearly every bond shattered. I could finish the job with but minor assistance; assistance you are well placed to provide, if I can convince you to help. It would not be unrewarding. You, joker, are most suitable."
Suggestions were inserted into her mind. The being was still bound, unable to exert its full ability except through a host. After it had achieved its purpose, it would leave her with a fraction of its power and understanding.
"I don't expect you to answer at once, but consider. Kagutsuchi offers only rigidity; stagnation, or glacial change. Six thousand years, to accomplish what should be achieved in a day. You already stand against it, as the daughters of your heart could not exist if it wasn't already weakened, therefore - to you - any resolution involving its power should be no solution at all. For now, rest. I will remain until you wake."
[ ] Accept the Reason of Nyarlathotep.
[ ] Write-in.
A/N: Ah yes, restful sleep. Is there anything better?
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
[X]Your strange ally from far away helped you force knowledge into your mind - you know who Nyarlathotep is. And how it's likely to act if freed.
In short, I vote to keep having an Occult score.
In short, I vote to keep having an Occult score.
Ha ha ha, NOPE. Quite aside from this looking like a classic enemy of the Exalted, partnering up with a guy who is literally Madness Manifest is not a good idea. Here's mine:Baughn said:
[X] Reason: Optimus Prime
Freedom is the right of all sentient beings.
Every person has the Right to their own life, a Right to walk the path they love most, regardless of where it leads them. Sometimes these paths lead to Conflict, sometimes to Harmony, but always to where the journeyman (or woman) wishes wishes to go. We have no Right to stop this, no Right to change the paths of others, nor does anyone else. But when Hikawa initiated the Conception, he destroyed most paths, and bound the rest into a game that they have no knowledge of or Reason to play. There is only one Right thing to do: We must restore the world as it was, reversing the Conception and the destruction it caused, so all the people of the world can walk their own path, with any who wish to walk beside them.
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
The Neutral Reason, I think that was called in canon? We can do better than that, tq.
I really need to get around to playing Nocturne.Winged One said:
Wait, I think I'm misunderstanding what Nyarlathotep is saying. Is he offering to change humanity into ascended beings or some such, or is he just offering that to Amu, or what?Baughn said:
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
He's saying that she could free him, and he would really like that. Then, she will understand how hard she screwed up by doing so. The bits about how Kagutsuchi-based solutions are bullshit and the philosophical stuff about the nature of humanity and of Amu is a smokescreen.tq343 said:
UrsaTempest
Don't Panic!
...Please wait while I'm panicking.
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
...how fucked are we if we fall into real sleep in front of MegaTen's Nyarlathotep?
Okay, so apparently my reason is just a variant of the Neutral Reason. But I just remembered we have a Sidereal Shard hanging around. Let's split it into Avatars and enact the good ending of Mage: The Ascension, the Judgement one from Time of Judgement. Turning humanity into post-gods is a good idea, right? Right?
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
That's certainly one interpretation. It may not be the correct one.Winged One said:
Um, well. Look at what it's already done. Does it look like that would matter?Winged One said:
Giygas
Cutest Sawk i could find. Lucario is a nice extra.
........ Well, we are Fucked.
Let's only hope we will be able to get a decent Write in!
Let's only hope we will be able to get a decent Write in!
Can we at least remember Igor and the velvet room?Baughn said:
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
Oh, absolutely. Only the badly-integrated bits your Exaltation supplied are inaccessible, and that only temporarily.Giygas said:
That said, if it wasn't for Nyaruko-chan's help you probably wouldn't have lasted another hour. The way it's casually disabling that rather inappropriate charm while stopping you from just fragmenting (thereby dying, to the degree that is possible) is helping quite a lot. Which means, you owe him. Yay. ^_^