Glorious Shotgun Princess, Thread 3
- Thread starter GreggHL
- Start date
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Oh, it's not like they ever stop.Dirtnap said:
Oh, come now. It's not like this is an actual fic thread. This is obviously the General Exalted Discussion until Gregg takes Another Couple Months Off thread.The One Char said:
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The Gem of Immortality is terribly written, along with a vast list of other hearthstone powers, and was a bad solution to a "problem" that was an integral part of the game, upon which several major setting conceits rested.Cornuthaum said:
It is best either a) ignored or b) retconned to only work for mortals (and maybe spirit-blooded).
And that's enough on that topic.
My preferred solution to the issues Gems of Immortality bring up is to just make them extremely rare. They are from 5 dot manses, that are earth aspect that are incredibly rare by themselves. Despite the book only giving a couple of types of hearthstones for each element/dot rating combination there is probably many different possible hearthstone powers.Aleph said:
So I would make it there are a total of 3 Gems of Immortality, the ones the Sidereals have, one that is at the bottom of the ocean in the west, and one that is in a long forgotten vault somewhere.
The things could also be so valuable that the odds of it going unstolen or its owner not being killed for it in the long term are nil. I imagine any exalt with enough influence to get one is probably going to live a more interesting life then one that would allow for a death by old age anyway.
Winged Knight
Still just a crazy man with a wolf on his head
- Location
- Texas
I think we should stop talking about Gems of Immortality and Exalted age limits in general. Seriously, it's not relevant and it's obviously ticking Gregg off. Take detailed discussion of Exalted mechanics to the Exalted Debate Thread.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The Seal can only be opened from inside. Presuming the fuckery doesn't get the thread locked - which will kill the story for, oh, let's say four months? - it would be eventually explained. But it has something to do with Bright Star's wife.Destrark said:
Durabys
Miaow! Break the Chains!
- Location
- the land of the Boii
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Wife..GreggHL said:
*vaguely remembers a certain discussion from the first thread*
..oh hell.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Some stuff. It's hinted that the red haired woman in images painted along the interior walls of Harbinger may be her. Also, Kal saw her when Wuffles was showing Bright Star's memories to him.Destrark said:
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Hands folded on the table in front of him, his head rests between his elbows. The slow and steady rise of his shoulders confirms he is alive, though the steady padding of the hammer in the blue-eyed woman's hand suggests that will soon change.
A snort, and yellow eyes open. Kal'Reegar sits up in his chair, grabs his pen, and nods. "Nap's done. Wuffles, you need to power down or sleep?"
"We do not, Creator Kal'Reegar. However, we must consult with you on possible irregularities in duplicate copies of these documents." Wuffles reaches into the pile next to him, two hands pulling out two folded and marked papers. Kal nods, reaching into the arranged stack next to him.
"Lay it on me, buddy."
A door to the side- one which was not apparently any more than a panel of wood- opens and a woman with long black hair and green eyes walks in. Clad in translucent green and black skirts, the slim figure glides across the room, eyes locked on the collection of gods and the odd Journeys. Spotting Siaka sitting on a claimed desk and padding her hammer, she walks over to her.
"They haven't escaped?" May Blossom asks.
Iron Siaka shakes her head, slow and steady. She watches, blue eyes narrowed. The Journeys trades a paper with the multi-armed-god-cloud-thing and they both sign off on something, placing it on the stack titled 'review.' A cart, embroidered and blue and gold, pushed in by a tiger-headed god passes the doorway.
"Just put'em over there," Kal says, checking off boxes on a new sheet, free hand pointing to a half-filled enclosure, cordoned off by four chairs with the words 'New Arrivals' spelled out on blank paper.
"You stopped them?" the green-eyed woman asks.
"They. Haven't. Tried." The words are said slow, low and accompanied by the sounds of grinding teeth. "I. Said. I. Was. Going. To. Take. A. Leak." She works her jaw, glancing between the two, and the slowly rising piles of 'Done' forms. "They were there. When I. Got back."
May Blossom, Chosen of Secrets, blinks. "They like doing paperwork what is this."
Teeth grind. The gloved hands stroke the head of the mace, blue eyes narrowing. The younger, more feminine of the two shifts in front of Siaka, shaking her head. "No," he whispers, "No no no. Serenity, find your serenity."
"I'm gonna find my serenity all over the back of his head," Iron Siaka growls, voice low and rumbling. The black haired woman shakes her head, standing in front of the sidereal. Turning, blocking Siaka's view of the bashing-worthy offense, she slaps on a smile and clears her throat.
"So." She straightens out her skirts. "I take it you're not unfamiliar with bureaucratic procedures, mm?"
A snort, and yellow eyes open. Kal'Reegar sits up in his chair, grabs his pen, and nods. "Nap's done. Wuffles, you need to power down or sleep?"
"We do not, Creator Kal'Reegar. However, we must consult with you on possible irregularities in duplicate copies of these documents." Wuffles reaches into the pile next to him, two hands pulling out two folded and marked papers. Kal nods, reaching into the arranged stack next to him.
"Lay it on me, buddy."
A door to the side- one which was not apparently any more than a panel of wood- opens and a woman with long black hair and green eyes walks in. Clad in translucent green and black skirts, the slim figure glides across the room, eyes locked on the collection of gods and the odd Journeys. Spotting Siaka sitting on a claimed desk and padding her hammer, she walks over to her.
"They haven't escaped?" May Blossom asks.
Iron Siaka shakes her head, slow and steady. She watches, blue eyes narrowed. The Journeys trades a paper with the multi-armed-god-cloud-thing and they both sign off on something, placing it on the stack titled 'review.' A cart, embroidered and blue and gold, pushed in by a tiger-headed god passes the doorway.
"Just put'em over there," Kal says, checking off boxes on a new sheet, free hand pointing to a half-filled enclosure, cordoned off by four chairs with the words 'New Arrivals' spelled out on blank paper.
"You stopped them?" the green-eyed woman asks.
"They. Haven't. Tried." The words are said slow, low and accompanied by the sounds of grinding teeth. "I. Said. I. Was. Going. To. Take. A. Leak." She works her jaw, glancing between the two, and the slowly rising piles of 'Done' forms. "They were there. When I. Got back."
May Blossom, Chosen of Secrets, blinks. "They like doing paperwork what is this."
Teeth grind. The gloved hands stroke the head of the mace, blue eyes narrowing. The younger, more feminine of the two shifts in front of Siaka, shaking her head. "No," he whispers, "No no no. Serenity, find your serenity."
"I'm gonna find my serenity all over the back of his head," Iron Siaka growls, voice low and rumbling. The black haired woman shakes her head, standing in front of the sidereal. Turning, blocking Siaka's view of the bashing-worthy offense, she slaps on a smile and clears her throat.
"So." She straightens out her skirts. "I take it you're not unfamiliar with bureaucratic procedures, mm?"
She finds her Serenity in smashing people in the face her mace.nadassar said:
Kal is depriving her of both that and the schadenfreude of watching a new Sid suffer through a mountain of paperwork.
RadiantPhoenix
Trudging up the Hill
- Location
- USA, Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
"I don't suffer from paperwork, I enjoy every second of it."Nervaqus987 said:
16
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Hands folded on the table in front of him, his head rests between his elbows. The slow and steady rise of his shoulders confirms he is alive, though the steady padding of the hammer in the blue-eyed woman's hand suggests that will soon change.
A snort, and yellow eyes open. Kal'Reegar sits up in his chair, grabs his pen, and nods. "Nap's done. Wuffles, you need to power down or sleep?"
"We do not, Creator Kal'Reegar. However, we must consult with you on possible irregularities in duplicate copies of these documents." Wuffles reaches into the pile next to him, two hands pulling out two folded and marked papers. Kal nods, reaching into the arranged stack next to him.
"Lay it on me, buddy."
A door to the side- one which was not apparently any more than a panel of wood- opens and a woman with long black hair and green eyes walks in. Clad in translucent green and black skirts, the slim figure glides across the room, eyes locked on the collection of gods and the odd Journeys. Spotting Siaka sitting on a desk claimed as her perch over the hapless new meats.
"They haven't escaped?" May Blossom asks.
Iron Siaka shakes her head, slow and steady. She watches, blue eyes narrowed. The Journeys trades a paper with the multi-armed-god-cloud-thing and they both sign off on something, placing it on the stack titled 'review.' A cart, embroidered and blue and gold, pushed in by a tiger-headed god passes the doorway.
"Just put'em over there," Kal says, checking off boxes on a new sheet, free hand pointing to a half-filled enclosure, cordoned off by four chairs with the words 'New Arrivals' spelled out on blank paper.
"You stopped them?" the green-eyed woman asks.
"They. Haven't. Tried." The words are said slow, low and accompanied by the sounds of grinding teeth. "I. Said. I. Was. Going. To. Take. A. Leak." She works her jaw, glancing between the two, and the slowly rising piles of 'Done' forms. "They were there. When I. Got back."
May Blossom, Chosen of Secrets, blinks. "They like doing paperwork what is this."
Teeth grind. The gloved hands stroke the head of the mace, blue eyes narrowing. The green eyed girl shakes her head and sidesteps in front of Siaka. Arms out, blocking her view of Reegar, she reads the intent of the Chosen of Serenity with crystal clarity. "No," she whispers, "No no no. Serenity, find your serenity."
"I'm gonna find my serenity all over the back of his head," Iron Siaka growls, voice low and rumbling. The black haired woman shakes her head, standing in front of the sidereal. Turning, blocking Siaka's view of the bashing-worthy offense, she slaps on a smile and clears her throat.
"So." She straightens out her skirts. "I take it you're not unfamiliar with bureaucratic procedures, mm?"
The pen twirls in the two fingered hand and slides into the ink well. He turns to May Blossom and nods, then turns back to the stacked papers. "It's important," he says, "Not like I enjoy it, but well, it's not like I've actually smelled paper before. Might as well take my victories where I can get them."
May Blossom turns back to Siaka, mouthing 'smelled?'
"Creators are confined to environmental suits due to frail immune systems," Wuffles states, shuffling another ten completed forms into the Done stack, "Creator Kal'Reegar no longer requires them."
Kal chuckles, looking up and watching May Blossom walk through the towers of 'fate errors,' he was told, and 'destinies', and other such things. At, least he understands, "Well, these are my fault." A sigh, glancing at the black haired woman. The shuffle of her steps, her sway, briefly reminds him of the girl back home. But, he forces it down, forces himself to focus.
"Anyway, you gotta keep track of things! Don't have records of your air processors, don't know you have them. Don't track your armory, you never know you could've taken that rocket launcher no one claimed."
A questioning grunt from behind them. Siaka tilts her head, mace planted into the desk next to her. "What's a rocket launcher?" she asks.
Kal glances over to Wuffles. Wuffles extends his petals. "You got a...firing range or something around here?" Kal asks.
A snort, and yellow eyes open. Kal'Reegar sits up in his chair, grabs his pen, and nods. "Nap's done. Wuffles, you need to power down or sleep?"
"We do not, Creator Kal'Reegar. However, we must consult with you on possible irregularities in duplicate copies of these documents." Wuffles reaches into the pile next to him, two hands pulling out two folded and marked papers. Kal nods, reaching into the arranged stack next to him.
"Lay it on me, buddy."
A door to the side- one which was not apparently any more than a panel of wood- opens and a woman with long black hair and green eyes walks in. Clad in translucent green and black skirts, the slim figure glides across the room, eyes locked on the collection of gods and the odd Journeys. Spotting Siaka sitting on a desk claimed as her perch over the hapless new meats.
"They haven't escaped?" May Blossom asks.
Iron Siaka shakes her head, slow and steady. She watches, blue eyes narrowed. The Journeys trades a paper with the multi-armed-god-cloud-thing and they both sign off on something, placing it on the stack titled 'review.' A cart, embroidered and blue and gold, pushed in by a tiger-headed god passes the doorway.
"Just put'em over there," Kal says, checking off boxes on a new sheet, free hand pointing to a half-filled enclosure, cordoned off by four chairs with the words 'New Arrivals' spelled out on blank paper.
"You stopped them?" the green-eyed woman asks.
"They. Haven't. Tried." The words are said slow, low and accompanied by the sounds of grinding teeth. "I. Said. I. Was. Going. To. Take. A. Leak." She works her jaw, glancing between the two, and the slowly rising piles of 'Done' forms. "They were there. When I. Got back."
May Blossom, Chosen of Secrets, blinks. "They like doing paperwork what is this."
Teeth grind. The gloved hands stroke the head of the mace, blue eyes narrowing. The green eyed girl shakes her head and sidesteps in front of Siaka. Arms out, blocking her view of Reegar, she reads the intent of the Chosen of Serenity with crystal clarity. "No," she whispers, "No no no. Serenity, find your serenity."
"I'm gonna find my serenity all over the back of his head," Iron Siaka growls, voice low and rumbling. The black haired woman shakes her head, standing in front of the sidereal. Turning, blocking Siaka's view of the bashing-worthy offense, she slaps on a smile and clears her throat.
"So." She straightens out her skirts. "I take it you're not unfamiliar with bureaucratic procedures, mm?"
The pen twirls in the two fingered hand and slides into the ink well. He turns to May Blossom and nods, then turns back to the stacked papers. "It's important," he says, "Not like I enjoy it, but well, it's not like I've actually smelled paper before. Might as well take my victories where I can get them."
May Blossom turns back to Siaka, mouthing 'smelled?'
"Creators are confined to environmental suits due to frail immune systems," Wuffles states, shuffling another ten completed forms into the Done stack, "Creator Kal'Reegar no longer requires them."
Kal chuckles, looking up and watching May Blossom walk through the towers of 'fate errors,' he was told, and 'destinies', and other such things. At, least he understands, "Well, these are my fault." A sigh, glancing at the black haired woman. The shuffle of her steps, her sway, briefly reminds him of the girl back home. But, he forces it down, forces himself to focus.
"Anyway, you gotta keep track of things! Don't have records of your air processors, don't know you have them. Don't track your armory, you never know you could've taken that rocket launcher no one claimed."
A questioning grunt from behind them. Siaka tilts her head, mace planted into the desk next to her. "What's a rocket launcher?" she asks.
Kal glances over to Wuffles. Wuffles extends his petals. "You got a...firing range or something around here?" Kal asks.
- Location
- Germany
She might accidentally destroy some paper work? Rocket Launchers are area effect weapons.SightedJT said:
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Probably don't need the commas after "At" and "But".GreggHL said:
You're forgetting Adorjan. She's really not someone who should be forgotten.Pulsor93 said:
pheonix89
Wants to be Seven Of Nine
- Location
- North American Plaguelands
- Pronouns
- She/Her
She may be referring to Wuffles being an emergent phenomenon - individual run-times aren't sentient, but put enough to together and you get sentience. This is WIERD, even by exalted standards.Maes said:Wait, what?
Did Wuffles grow/manifest/unfold a few extra pairs of arms to help with shuffling paper or is it unusual for gods to have more than a single arm?
17
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
It floats above a dead star. A tower of rock, metal, and flesh. Orbiting it in slow, eventual death. Held aloft by the wonders granted by their makers. Tilted to its side, the wreck of its master driven through it, the homeworld of the once-empire orbits the heart of the galaxy.
Within the core of the tower, they sit above the pulsing blue heart. Six Collectors, insectoid men in black chitin with angular heads and emaciated bodies. Four eyes closed, and they meditate in lotus position. Veins of gold have already been sewn into them- the second step, after awakening them from their slumber- in forging them to be greater.
Behind them, he sits. He meditates. A man in the prime of youth- though such youth is an illusion. He has not aged for eons, as is his gift. As is his power. Even before his transformation, even before his ascendance. A young man with black hair cropped short, his face blank and jaw set. The twitching of his brow the only sign he still lives.
Breathing is but a luxury for him.
In the red lit dome, above the sleeping horror at the center of the tower, he meditates. He dwells. He centers himself, for the first time in ages. But then he feels the warmth where there should be none, and opens his eyes. The pale hand touches his chin, tilting his head up to look into the eyes of a woman with red hair.
Red hair which radiates outwards, flowing around her. Pale skin he knows too well. A cut, facet gem of pale yellow on her brow. A smile he sees every time he closes his eyes. She does not move as much as shift, flow around him. An ethereal, dreamlike quality that tells him, "You are not her."
She smiles. When she speaks, it is with the resonant purring that makes his skin crawl. "Oh, I know. I just wanted to see if you'd get aroused before you figured it out." And then her form explodes into a pillar of shadow.
The collectors wake, standing as one around him. He twists to his feet and stands in front of them, letting the shadow coil around them into a ring of absence. The lights fail, plunging the dome into darkness. At least, until the sunfire radiates around him, illuminating him, the shadows, and the woman with obsidian skin and red eyes floating in lotus position in the air before them.
A rat like tail sways beneath her, black robes covered in twinkling starlight surrounding her. And behind her, the shadows rise, forming into a serpent. Two yellow eyes open, and a third eye at the center of its forehead.
"The dragon," Bright Star breathes.
Yellowed, rotting teeth decorate its smile. The Collectors behind Bright Star bristle, enough of a mind granted to them that they can feel hate. "Ah ah! The full title is the Ebon Dragon, Principle of Enlightened Self Interest. I did not work this hard to be simply dismissed as a serpent. Now."
The serpent flows, past the woman, wrapping around Bright Star. "You. You, you you you." An echoing, rattling cough turns into a laugh. "You I have been looking forward to meeting!" The yellow eyes of the dragon meet the blue eyes of the once-Zenith. "So, would you prefer 'Bright Star' or Harbinger?"
The answer comes in the pillar of sunfire that surrounds Bright Star, burning the Dragon and sending it reeling back, making the woman cover her eyes and scream, and illuminating the dome as if the sun itself had risen upon it. A hand lances out and seizes the Dragon by the throat.
Burnt and leaking white puss, one eye burnt out of its socket, the Dragon only continues laughing. "And why?" Bright Star asks, "What am I to you?"
The smile only goes wider. "Proof of concept."
End Chapter 5
Within the core of the tower, they sit above the pulsing blue heart. Six Collectors, insectoid men in black chitin with angular heads and emaciated bodies. Four eyes closed, and they meditate in lotus position. Veins of gold have already been sewn into them- the second step, after awakening them from their slumber- in forging them to be greater.
Behind them, he sits. He meditates. A man in the prime of youth- though such youth is an illusion. He has not aged for eons, as is his gift. As is his power. Even before his transformation, even before his ascendance. A young man with black hair cropped short, his face blank and jaw set. The twitching of his brow the only sign he still lives.
Breathing is but a luxury for him.
In the red lit dome, above the sleeping horror at the center of the tower, he meditates. He dwells. He centers himself, for the first time in ages. But then he feels the warmth where there should be none, and opens his eyes. The pale hand touches his chin, tilting his head up to look into the eyes of a woman with red hair.
Red hair which radiates outwards, flowing around her. Pale skin he knows too well. A cut, facet gem of pale yellow on her brow. A smile he sees every time he closes his eyes. She does not move as much as shift, flow around him. An ethereal, dreamlike quality that tells him, "You are not her."
She smiles. When she speaks, it is with the resonant purring that makes his skin crawl. "Oh, I know. I just wanted to see if you'd get aroused before you figured it out." And then her form explodes into a pillar of shadow.
The collectors wake, standing as one around him. He twists to his feet and stands in front of them, letting the shadow coil around them into a ring of absence. The lights fail, plunging the dome into darkness. At least, until the sunfire radiates around him, illuminating him, the shadows, and the woman with obsidian skin and red eyes floating in lotus position in the air before them.
A rat like tail sways beneath her, black robes covered in twinkling starlight surrounding her. And behind her, the shadows rise, forming into a serpent. Two yellow eyes open, and a third eye at the center of its forehead.
"The dragon," Bright Star breathes.
Yellowed, rotting teeth decorate its smile. The Collectors behind Bright Star bristle, enough of a mind granted to them that they can feel hate. "Ah ah! The full title is the Ebon Dragon, Principle of Enlightened Self Interest. I did not work this hard to be simply dismissed as a serpent. Now."
The serpent flows, past the woman, wrapping around Bright Star. "You. You, you you you." An echoing, rattling cough turns into a laugh. "You I have been looking forward to meeting!" The yellow eyes of the dragon meet the blue eyes of the once-Zenith. "So, would you prefer 'Bright Star' or Harbinger?"
The answer comes in the pillar of sunfire that surrounds Bright Star, burning the Dragon and sending it reeling back, making the woman cover her eyes and scream, and illuminating the dome as if the sun itself had risen upon it. A hand lances out and seizes the Dragon by the throat.
Burnt and leaking white puss, one eye burnt out of its socket, the Dragon only continues laughing. "And why?" Bright Star asks, "What am I to you?"
The smile only goes wider. "Proof of concept."
End Chapter 5
