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General Exalted Thread

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Broken25 said:
So.... he basically sees himself as a ordinary, albeit unlucky, nice guy?
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Yes, to a certain extent - but his Wisdom soul also indicates at some level that he realises that he's not everything he considers himself to be, represented why she hides herself away and tries to avoid drawing attention to herself.

Analysing soul-interactions to see what they say about the greater self is something that I think is really interesting, as you might have guessed already.

Broken25 said:
Hmmm. Could you use the blood or an Urtalmic for this?
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No. Explicitly, Elloge is not He Who Bleeds The Unknown Word for the purposes of their stuff, so vice-versa should apply.
 
EarthScorpion said:
Nexada, the First Companion
Demon of the Second Circle
Defining Soul of the Prince of Leeches

When the Prince of Leeches first came to be, sucking the blood from the wounds of newborn Elloge, Nexada was there too. She was the first of his souls and the first being in all of existence to love him - and he knows it not. Since then she has been at his side, his sworn swordswoman and his champion. Ten thousand times and more she has stepped in to win battles that he could not be bothered to fight or struggled behind the scenes to remedy things he has blundered into, and she is tired. She is tired of Ianade's murderous intentions, Asarin's rages, Sisim's clumsiness and Obau's decadence - and above all she is tired of their endless warring for the love of a demon prince she believes will never return their feelings. And yet she loves him still, and will leap in without a thought should he seem in trouble.
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This one is a bit more interesting. As his defining soul, she represents his capacity to decide who he is; And she is growing weary of the interminable harem show his fundamental nature. So it may indicate he will change himself sometime in the future. (Or be changed through violence, as it's only proper for demons.)
 
Well, setting aside how the Demons relate to their Progenitor and the Reflective/Warden/etc parts, I can kinda see things they show about your standard harem protagonist.

Like, the Innocent Demon is the protagonist's kindness, and/or 'unluckyness'.

The tsundere could represent the way they never choose a girl (can't say their feelings), or the way shounen protagonists power up (she wants to get stronger).

Obau, aside from the obvious 'drunken character spouts things, protagonist gains sudden insight', could also be the harem protagonist's characteristic stupidity.

The childhood friend's oaths remind me of a bunch of harem protagonists who are very verbal about keeping promises. Also the trope where despite how strong the character is, he can get beaten up by a love interest easily.


And so on.
 
Hmm... why am I getting Meiya Mitsurugi and Pyrrha Nikos vibes from Nexada? Is it because they're tragic Noble Confidants friendzoned girls who died when the hero realized the girls' feelings?
 
... so what'd happen with other souls if Nexada finally snapped and kill her greater-self?

Hmm. Sounds interesting. *put hook on Exalted folder*
 
So...out of curiosity what's Kimbery's dealio? The main points I've got is that a. she's this world-sea of acid that exists within Malfeas and b. she's creepily maternal in that she loves you as long as you're obedient and good.

(I'm somewhat ill advisedly considering demon homebrew 'cause I'm fucking bored but also I'm too lazy to read the source material and justifying it on the backs of "well I've learned most of this shit via osmosis" and "I've heard it's full of more worm-rape than the Matou mansion").
 
TenfoldShields said:
So...out of curiosity what's Kimbery's dealio? The main points I've got is that a. she's this world-sea of acid that exists within Malfeas and b. she's creepily maternal in that she loves you as long as you're obedient and good.

(I'm somewhat ill advisedly considering demon homebrew 'cause I'm fucking bored but also I'm too lazy to read the source material and justifying it on the backs of "well I've learned most of this shit via osmosis" and "I've heard it's full of more worm-rape than the Matou mansion").
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Do I wanna know?
 
TenfoldShields said:
So...out of curiosity what's Kimbery's dealio? The main points I've got is that a. she's this world-sea of acid that exists within Malfeas and b. she's creepily maternal in that she loves you as long as you're obedient and good.
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Kimbery is essentially the eternally-bitter primordial equivalent to a helicopter parent, always prodding you to be better at sports, do more work in school, sit up straight and eat your vegetables like a good boy, and while none of these are implicit orders to excel the way she wants, when she wants, any less-than-enthusiastic response to her well-meaning suggestions is the ultimate betrayal of everything she has done and provided for you, because how could you do this unless you HATED her utterly?

And no, there will be no excuses for why, she is not going to hear it, you have to apologize and make it up to her now, because you hurt her feelings. Don't you care about her feelings? It was all for your own good, and you're such a spoiled and ungrateful brat. She might forgive you after all, because she always forgives those who appeal to her victim complex and assuaging her ego that she always knows what is right and best, but the next time the punishment will be so much worse than crocodile tears.

Refusing her attentions outright, or trying to do your own thing and not the way she sees as being best for you makes her absolutely despise you to the core, and the same way she loves in an overbearing fashion, when Kimbery hates she will seek to spitefully crush you utterly and tear down every aspect of your existence to nothing in the longest, most drawn-out way she can think of. Because you deserve nothing and no one as good to you as she could have been.
 
Most Yozi are profoundly destructive, but they don't really engage with individuals. Adorjan torments those she loves - but for the most part, she's 'just' a humungous storm of killing wind.

Kimbery is a Yozi who favours the personal approach.
 
Imrix said:
Most Yozi are profoundly destructive, but they don't really engage with individuals. Adorjan torments those she loves - but for the most part, she's 'just' a humungous storm of killing wind.

Kimbery is a Yozi who favours the personal approach.
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Both the Ebon Dragon and Adorjan are intensely personal Yozi's whose attention I would rather avoid more than Kimbery. Kimbery may punish you but she won't torment you to the point of suicide or fall in love with you because you are doomed to a fate horrific enough that the principle of Doom thougth you were interesting enough to pay attention to personally.
 
Eh, i don't know. Let's take a look at her Excellency:

The Great Mother rejects the immediacy of brute force violence in favor of poison, acid, bleeding, curses, disease and other tactics that perpetuate spiteful suffering without further effort. Her social tricks follow the same logic, stirring undercurrents of distrust and dissent beneath the polite surface of society until the entire organization dissolves. Everything she does harms someone or sets them up to suffer worse in the future, but she is capable of martyring herself to be the one in pain. Because her depths hold no lasting generosity, she demands payment proportional to her sacrifice. Whether beneficiaries ask for her gifts or not doesn't matter, but she gleefully tortures those who insult her by refusing her largesse. Those who cannot pay her back conventionally pay with screams.
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That Kimbery takes pleasure in the agonies of subordinates is her worst-kept secret, but she sacrifices this joy to avoid wasting what is hers. She shows no restraint in tormenting enemies, punishing them for actual transgressions and venting her bottled-up fury toward all who escape punishment. The Sea That Marched Against the Flame loves to warp herself and others into new shapes as useful as they are uncomfortable, imagining herself a great artist.
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She is so nice!
 
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    • More stuff from that guy. Exalted: On the Empress' Immortality
    Exalted: On the Empress' Immortality

    In the beginning, there was a perfect order. Born of the King of Kings, the Pyrian Queen enforced upon the titans a perfect Hierarchy descending from the Universe Emperor to the lowliest of his subjects. When the Exalted, a bunch of hairless apes so low as to be beneath this Hierarchy overthrew that absolute formation, it was if a crack had formed in a flawless diamond. Lest these new rulers cause further damage, she begged they allow her to serve them, to allow her to work to restore her perfect order. But the humans cared not for her rigid structures and condemned her to exile with the insane, gibbering living-corpse of what had once been her Hierarchy's, her very existence's focal point.

    And that broke her.

    In a fit of insanity matched not even by Oramus, she completely rebelled against her broken Mythos and shattered three of her spheres and her perfectly-calculated perfection, denying her greatest works to the mad Exalted, the shattered Emperor, and even to herself, for she had failed in preserving that which was her very meaning. From the bowels of her prison, she watched the new rulers in the Silver Forest's reflections even as she served the sick and raving King, hoping that they might beg her forgiveness. Yet she observed with greater and greater dispassion as the Exalted grew decadent and insane. She let loose a minor howl as she saw even those fools overthrown, even their crude attempts at ordering Creation fracturing under the usurpers and their own final retaliations. She cringed as the Contagion laid waste to what remained of the natural order and nearly looked away in despair as the hated raksha overwhelmed the last vestiges of order that she had wrought so long ago.

    Then, something unfathomable happened.

    A young Dragonblooded lieutenant had somehow seized control of the Solars' geomantic weaponry. By all rights, doing so should have been impossible - the controls should only respond to Solar Essence, and its sensors should have been able to pierce through even the lies of the Ebon Dragon. To have seized control of the Realm Defense Grid was impossible, but the Exalted had done the impossible before. This young woman, barely an adult in the eyes of the Dragonblooded, and less than an infant to the long gaze of the titans, seized control of Creation's greatest weapon through will alone and demanded fealty from those few survivors of the Contagion and the Crusade, each a hero in his own right. Yet she was greater, for she had done what none of them could; they were all beneath her.

    She had no doubt; she had no mercy. She was a pure and ruthless tyrant the likes of which Creation had not seen in long, the likes of which Merela had failed to be. And the Pyrian Queen fell in love. She continued to pay overtures to the rotting Emperor but courted this new Empress in secret, never leaving any sign of her presence but her gifts. The young Scarlet Empress was strong and true but nevertheless vulnerable in her inexperience.

    She had to be flawless like diamond: perfect, untouched by the ravages of disease, of treacherous poison, and of age most of all. Like the Holy Tyrant before her, she need must be eternal and untouchable by her peers. From the ill-thought blood ties of the traitor Gaia, the Pyrian Queen wove Hierarchy into the Empire expanding from the new singularity of the Empress' person. All would be subject to her Dynasty, and as the Blood of Dragons failed across Creation, only the blood strengthened by the Yozi Queen's love would remain strong forever. The Scarlet Empire would remain as the last beautiful monement to order in a dying world, focused upon a final reminder of past glories.

    But then the Empress went missing. Perhaps you know what happened to her?


    BAD END: THE EBON DRAGON HATES EVERYONE
    The Ebon Dragon is getting married. He does this sort of thing every other decade or so, and it would not be any call for celebration were it not for his choice of bride this time. Ordinarily, he chooses macabre, doomed souls, who cannot withstand him. The bodies of these victims he takes into his arms to be used as his playthings forevermore. But this bride might live, fears Erembour, who is so frequently the bridesmaid. This bride possesses power such that she might live forever despite any hardship, and the Shadow of All Things shall finally be sated with a doll to torment for the remainder of eternity.

    The Pyrian Queen simply looks on in broken-hearted agony, unable to intervene lest she reveal her betrayal to the mad Emperor who clings to a throne no longer his.


    NEUTRAL END: A QUEEN FOR THE PRINCE
    The Green Sun is getting married. Hell is in quite the uproar about it, for Erembour, who knows things none should, says the bride may be human. Malfeas may be mad, but he is no fool, having long watched his former confidante fawning over an Exalted ruler, barely restraining his rage. He could have destroyed her for her treachery, but in his heart, he knew that even this pathetic creature possessed something he has lost. And he wants it back.

    So he shall bond this human ruler to him in the most intimate of ways. She shall become the Demon Queen and be Exalted no more, but with her soul returning to the King of Kings his heroism and pride not predicated on violence, who is to say what will become of the Yozis' prison?


    GOOD END: TO RULE IN HELL
    The Scarlet Empress is getting married. She had known all along of her secret paramour, though it had taken the better part of a century to uncover her identity. After a time, the Empress finally went as far as the Demon City's gates for a secret rendevouz. With the Solars' return to Creation, the Pyrian Queen saw her love's power and the perfect order they had created together in danger. Not willing to lose everything again, she whisked the Empress to hell, where the human caused her to fall in love all over again as the former Empress immediately began a guerrilla campaign to overthrow the Demon Emperor as her latent Gaian Essence slowly evolves into a state not unlike that of a true Primordial. In response, the Pyrian Queen has publically declared her love and her loyalty, while the Silver Forest and the Black Boar in turn see in her a triumphant return to Creation and have fallen under her banner.

    With the Reclamation in full swing, will the Yozis' champions succeed in hunting down this full-fledged rebellion, or will they too fall to the would-be Empress' charm and Charms?
    Again! Exalted: Legend of the Empyreal Chaos
    Exalted: Legend of the Empyreal Chaos

    In the time when the tribe of dreamers awoke and stood against the children of Chaos, they created a bulwark of Form against the tides of the Wyld where they might play the game of worlds and kings. Yet their dreams were but such and were forever eroded by the endless stream of dreams that flowed from the Chaos and was the Chaos. To push back the tides, they wove mountains and plains from their bodies and a River rose to drown the stream, yet the flow was such that it might never cease. Their play could not be interrupted, so the Primordial Sea, who was an expert in drowning unwanted children, set out from the slopes of the Mountains of Gold and Diamond, across the roots of the World-Tree, until she was beyond the land of Dragons. There, she poured out her body, that she might gain the love of all by permanently embracing her siblings, extinguishing the Shapeless children all around them.

    Free of the Sea's constant attempts to drown them, her brethren simply continued in their games, relishing the loss of her distraction, for they were solitary creatures. It was in this shape, two great Mountains encircled by a Sea, that the lands of Zen-Mu would be bound. Still, there was one great distraction from the game of worlds and one thing that might change the face of the shared dream. The Golden Mountain towered over these lands, its peak as high as the Diamond Mountain, yet its base infinitely wider. The roots of the World-Tree intertwined with its slopes, and the Primordial Sea lapped at its foothills.

    The Mountain was hollow, however, itself its own crown of mountain gold, for it was King over the dreamers. The Beast Upon the Mountain which was the Mountain bellowed into its depths, the echoes of itself, its crown and its throne, reverberating across Zen-Mu, calling out, "Am I Mardukth?" Each time the Golden Mountain called, the Tree or the Sea or the River or any of the others had must cease their play and grow to contain and reflect the glory of the infinite Crown and Throne. Yet across the Sea, from without the fires of Cytherea, was another flame that burned away the Wyld with its touch, which the dreamers spied through the seven-colored wings of the Dragon Beyond the World. Unlike the Divine Ignition whose form could not be seen because all were within it, this was a blaze without form, but who saw the fullness of the dreamers from his position without.

    Signaling from Without and from Beyond, the Infinite Radiant Is decreed that he should enter into Zen-Mu to rule the dreamers, for he alone among them was Complete – Beginning and Ending Eternal who burned himself into the shinma, that he might wield his formless regalia which was infinitely greater than that of the Shapeless children. His Cup was a Forge Universal, his Ring a crown of Time, his Staff a promise of Life Eternal, and his Sword the threat of Death. By a quirk of Nirupadhika,he was set apart from his tribe, on the far shore of the Primordial Sea and beyond the unblemished azure veil of his sister Cecelyne, set apart by Life and its Absence to keep Death at bay. Though the titans loathed the demands of Mardukth, Who Held in Thrall, he did not possess such power over them as would the Complete and Holy Tyrant. Then a Shadow came over the Sea, who had long been scorned by the others, and boiling with anger, she Marched Against the Flame no more but instead constructed an ark that he might cross her waters.

    With a frightful silence, the emerald waters above parted to reveal a tranquil blue vault, which soon darkened as it parted to make way for the King. At first there was a blackness which held no darkness, but as the enormous mass drew nearer, dull stars of all the colors of Oramus' wings winked visible, forming immense clouds that shifted hues constantly, glimmering with the possibility of all things that were not the Wyld. A new Chaos descended upon Zen-Mu, filling it completely with prismatic light as a thousand-thousand stars birthed and died each moment, glorifying the Completed existence of the King. Those titans who wished not to be ruled gathered upon the slopes of the Crown and the Throne to guard it and be guarded, while those who were filled with wonder at the King's forge-constellations or feared his wrath arrayed within his nebulae. At his left hand was First of his souls – greatest of his suns and bearer of his standard, whose colors changed as he passed over Zen-Mu – and at his right hand was Final of his souls – twin to that sun and embodiment of that which was not Flame, keeper of the King's hearth.

    What followed was a war of impossible scope, which witnessed the birth and death of a thousand-thousand worlds, until the King stood atop the Golden Mountain which had no peak and took its Crown, which was the Mountain, and made it his Way, such that all Zen-Mu was his Throne, and Mardukth was the Mountain no more, so that the diamond slopes of Qaf refracted the glory of the King onto all things, for they were beneath him. The King thus ruled Zen-Mu and led the game of worlds and kings, for he was full of worlds and King of Kings. By his Tyranny, his sister's Law was enforced, and by Law, their interactions among themselves were defined, and they were a solitary race no more. It would come to pass that the dreamers would one day despair, and the Law would guide them to seek the Shining Answer, which was Beyond the Beyond and more Complete and final than the Infinite Radiant Is. Yet the journey was long, and the dreamers would grow to miss their games.

    The Holy Tyrant declared that they might rest for a time and play a Game that was not less than himself as the last had been. The tribe of dreamers his Throne, the King played no part in the world-mechanism's construction, instead acting as overseer and taskmaster, uniting the individual efforts into a harmonious whole, and providing raw materials from his starstuff when the Wyld would not do, for he was forge without peer. From the glittering molten iron at the hearts of stars were Creation's maintenance automata constructed in the image of the titans' subsidiary souls, and Wyld energy was drawn through the vast emptiness between those stars to properly align its Essence with Primordial purpose. The Empyreal conceived of a way to spread this purifying effect through the world-mechanism, distilling his multicolored fires into the element theion-to, but the Emerald Mother insisted that such a forced change would lessen their Creation. With much of the mechanism's stability owed to her touch, he retracted his contribution from the world's design.

    After much time, the work was complete, and the dreamers made as to retire, when a Shadow came over the King. He felt slighted that his sole construction was removed from their Creation, his Creation. It was his invention, but he had neither designed its mechanisms, nor constructed a single aspect. Enraged but also flush with the excitement of proving himself ever-perfect, he drew forth the brightest solar flare his prismatic war-heart could manage and cast it into the purer and more abstract embers of the Divine Ignition. Then, he stormed into the workshop of the Great Maker and tore the heart from a device meant to purify his illness.

    Rebuilding this machine into a great war-engine, the Holy Tyrant took back the flame he had given to the Ignition, whose colors had merged into a white-hot supernova that even the perfect King could not hold for more than a moment. In that moment, however, he plunged the engine into the blaze, causing it to be destroyed and be reborn in an instant. A Shadow was cast across his face for the first time as an individual more perfect than anything might ever be stood undaunted before the Infinite Radiant Is. No thing untested could be called perfect, however, and so the dreamers dreamed of trials for this perfect Sol Incarnate, the Holy Tyrant's war-soul jealously hoping to destroy that which he had wrought, lest the white light prove greater than his many-colored radiance.

    Lo, did Ignis Divine prove himself Unconquered, despite the arrogant wrath of his elder sun. To appease her brother, the Tyrant's crafty hearth-soul requested of the King the Crown of vanquished Mardukth, for he needed not omnipresence once all the titans were gathered in Yu-Shan. The Empyreal crown of Time would remain upon his brow forever; better to elevate this favored child in the eyes of his peers, all the while implying that for all his perfection, he was still less than that onetime King. This he acceded in good humor, for he was eager to lord his greatest work over those of his peers and to retire to the Games. Yet, this golden corona did not please the King of the Gods.

    He rankled at the mistreatment of his fellows, of Autochthon, and most of all, of the mortals, who were held in such low esteem as to be beneath the Law. He spoke with the Clear Sky Cecelyne who was Lawmaker and with the Thousandfold Constellations of Hierarchy who was impartial and held his father's ear. He drew up plans for societies and works of geomancy, that he might maximize prayer yield while allowing mortals to live as they wished, without fear. Once he knew he had perfected his plans, he sought counsel with the Holy Tyrant's war-soul, who was clever, and with his hearth-soul, who was wise. The jealous elder sun, burning an envious green, encouraged the Unconquered, hoping to see his younger fail, but the princess of the hearth called him a fool concerned with the goings-on of ants, pointedly insisting that he would not like the outcome.

    Sol Incarnate sincerely thanked both for their advice, and begged audience with his father, who accepted after some prodding from the Constellations. He waited patiently while the god outlined a greater system of worship to power the world-mechanism than was in place. He did not care for the current system, as he had neither designed, nor built it. Still, to change any aspect of Creation would be to imply he had failed in directing his subjects. Yet he knew also that to deny his sole contribution's suggestion would be to imply that he had created something less than perfect.

    After an eternal instant within his blazing nebulae, he replied, "ALL THESE THINGS MUST BE TRUE. BUT WHO ARE YOU TO DENY THEM THEIR PLEASURE? WHO ARE YOU TO DENY ADRIÁN TORMENT? ISIDOROS RAMPAGE? KIMBERY DROWNING?"

    In that moment, the Unconquered's Valor screamed for him to stand, but Temperance prevailed: he would have other chances; he could work toward small changes in Primordial disposition. With time, he grew discouraged, fearing he might never succeed. The jeers of heaven's prismatic sun continually ate at him, and he was unable to silence his elder by force because of the divine Geas. Growing ever more disgruntled by his casual dismissal by most of the titans, he began to openly speak of rebellion, ideally forcing the titans to rethink their actions by taking their coveted Games from them. It was during one such rant that Autochthon discovered him and offered to help.

    When the Primordial War began, the Holy Tyrant did not care. His favored and only creation was merely going through a rebellious phase, encouraged by that maniac Autochthon. A moment more, and he would give his wayward son an appropriate punishment such that all gods would know the consequences of betrayal, yet would in no way diminish his perfect Sun and thus reflect poorly on his Kingship. Another Labor, perhaps, or even a dozen more, though he had must ensure they do not merely drive him to such arrogance again. Yet as time passed, none who had left the Game's controls returned, and soon the King was alone. Impatient, he stormed out of Yu-Shan with his war-soul at his side, only to find his subjects under attack.

    Without the Crown of Mardukth, he lacked the ability to be amongst all his tribe at once, and even his great size was of no great use, for he could only use a fraction of it, lest he destroy Creation with his mass. Nevertheless, he still held Death as his Sword, and half the Incarnae fell before him, leaving the offices of Lethe, the sky, and several other aspects of Creation forever empty, before the Exalted unleashed their secret weapon. The birth of Oblivion sent shudders across the shinma, reverberating within every titan. In that long moment, the Infinite Radiant Is questioned his Infinite nature for the first time. That was all the Exalted needed to smother his stars and storm empty Yu-Shan to take his hearth-soul captive.

    Suspected of having gone before Sol to inform the Tyrant of his plans, it was she, rather than the elder sun who was to be sacrificed. His stars dying and the void between them slain, the Empyreal Chaos withered, collapsing upon the cold iron bones of his constellations, which yellowed to dun brass in emulation of the vanquished King before him. His war-soul, defiant to the end, rose high as he could, giving Creation one final glimpse of emerald noon, vowing never to descend from that height again before being sorcerously cast into the half-dead body of his progenitor, along with all the other titans. For Sol's ingratitude and treachery, the Thousandfold Constellations broke three of her forms, making impossible those plans of his she had once advocated, among other things. Now the pitiful skeleton that is Malfeas rules over his mad and broken brethren by force, his regalia taken from him.

    True, he is lesser than what he once was, but he is still very much the same. He is not so wise anymore, but he retains much of his old cleverness. He sees now where his mistake lies: he allowed a certain Shadow to shape the final form of his perfect offspring. Thanks to the endless mirrors of the Silver Forest, he has avoided such folly this time, reflecting nothing but his own majesty upon itself...
     
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