[X] Call Elias right away.
[X] Blindfold.
[X] Blindfold.
Seeing Chaos: A Jujutsu Kaisen/WH40K Quest
- Thread starter Azremodehar
- Start date
[X] Call Elias right away.
[X] Blindfold.
I'm looking forward to him learning about the astronomicon and the eye of terror. It's gonna be a fun talk. And yeah, the blindfold is cool.
Think Elias' previous retinue is all dead? We seem to be building up a new one with magos friend and our stray guardsman here.
[X] Blindfold.
I'm looking forward to him learning about the astronomicon and the eye of terror. It's gonna be a fun talk. And yeah, the blindfold is cool.
Think Elias' previous retinue is all dead? We seem to be building up a new one with magos friend and our stray guardsman here.
- Location
- The Internet
[X] Call Elias right away.
[X] Glasses.
I'm out here declaring heresy on all y'all, his glasses looked best!
[X] Glasses.
I'm out here declaring heresy on all y'all, his glasses looked best!
Glasses Gojo is goofy looking, blindfold Gojo is cool and spooky. Both have their place with a troll like him.
Roth963
If I become inactive with this massage, I died
I can't believe I am breathing the same digital oxygen as a monster like you, goofy? The glasses are awesome.
Hentaiwizard
Grand Magus of the Lewd
Have we spent the entire time since now without any eye covering?
Roth963
If I become inactive with this massage, I died
We were fighting or doing jujutsu stuff, so it made sense.
- Pronouns
- Human/Form/Keyblade
[X] Glasses.
- Pronouns
- He
[X] Call Elias right away.
[X] Blindfold
[X] Blindfold
- Location
- The Internet
Vote closed. Sorry Team Glasses, Team Blindfold wins.
- Location
- Here and there
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Good.
53
New
- Location
- The Internet
You reach for the vox, and call Elias.
"Gojo," he greets you, voice even. "Are you ready?"
"I'm even dressed!" you don't quite chirp, grinning so that it's audible. "You can come over any time."
"I'll have drinks sent. Do you have a preference?"
"Triple iced vanilla caramel latte, six pumps vanilla, eight pumps caramel, but I doubt you can get that here," you reply. Elias is silent for a moment before he answers.
"You may be surprised," he says. "I'll see you soon." He ends the call, and you strap the vox to your wrist, and then the hair goes up, and the blindfold goes on, and oh that's a relief. You should have put that on ages ago. You were running closer than you like to sensory overload. It's not as though cutting off your physical vision hampers you in any way, anyway.
It's a trade-off, either way; some things (the excessive skull detailing) become less distinct, but others stand out more: that beacon, for instance, and the blot that mirrors it. Both are much more stark in your vision when the local physical distractions are cut off. They're still far too distant to make out any actual details of course, you would have to be much closer to learn anything more about them than what you have already deduced, but they do both shine (for want of a better word, in the case of the blot) more brightly to you now.
The amount of ambient cursed energy in this place is more starkly outlined now too, in the way it lays thickly over everything, and makes your current lack of (honestly overrated) colour vision completely redundant. Even if you didn't already know the colour of the bedspread you'd be able to recognise it as red, just from the interactions of the cursed energy with it. (It's a skill that took you a long time to develop, but it's a great party trick. You have a lot of great party tricks.)
Some twenty minutes after your call with Elias—spent rummaging through your phone to find out just what you do and do not still have on it—there is a knock at the door. Since you can see Elias' cursed energy (stronger now than it had been before you went to bed; he must be recovering), you just call out,
"It's open!" from your place slouched indolently at the head of the little table in the sitting room. Feet up, chair tilted at an angle impossible for anyone else, phone in hand, the perfect image of no fucks given.
Elias, when he comes in, doesn't even blink.
"I see you are feeling better," he says. He sets two drinks down on the table, and slides one over to you. Ice clinks in the glass, pale brown liquid sloshing slightly. "I had to pay a personal visit to the kitchen for this. I hope it is satisfactory." He has a folder as well, an actual paper folder, that he sets down as well.
A faint, sweet smell hits your nose, and while it's not quite right… it's not entirely wrong, either. You feel your eyebrows quirk up, and you reach for the drink. Another sniff closer up reveals the definite smell of coffee and burnt sugar, and of course sweet. You hum thoughtfully, and take a sip.
There's coffee—strong—and caramel—good—but not a hint of vanilla. You look at Elias, and he gives you a very slight smile.
"While vanilla is out of the question—the chef did not know what it was—caramel is apparently quite easy, and both recaf and milk are available in abundance." You respond by taking a loooong sip of your iced caramel latte, and grin. (Recaf, the mysterious language section of your brain tells you, is Future for coffee. All right, you know what to ask for.)
"Not bad," you opine, after considering the taste a little more.
"I am glad to hear it. So. What did you want to talk about?" You consider countering by asking what he wanted to talk about for less than half a second, take another sip of your latte, and reply:
"Yeah so what's that bright thing off that way in space?" You point with unerring accuracy toward it. "And while we're at it, what's the… concentration of cursed energy that way?" Again, you point. Elias arches an eyebrow briefly, and then he looks distant, and you can see his own cursed energy at work, as he looks one way, and then the other.
"Exactly how distant?" he asks.
"Parsecs," you reply. "Really far away." You can see the moment it clicks in his head, and both his eyebrows go up.
"I believe you are seeing—or sensing?"
"Seeing."
"Seeing the light of the Astronomican, and what we call the Eye of Terror," he says softly, and a little unsettled. "That should be—what is going on with your eyes?"
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," you say, not really joking at all. "Or give you severe brain damage, seal you up, or something else along those lines, and I'd really rather not." You actually kind of like Elias. He's excellent at handling your bullshit, and such people are not to be undervalued.
"You are not joking," Elias states, eyeing you warily.
"Nope." You pop the P, just because. "So let's table this part of the discussion permanently, and just agree that I can see what I can see, which is basically everything, okay?" You take another sip of your latte. Several seconds pass in silence before Elias finally nods.
"Very well," he says. "We will table it for now."
"Forever." Your voice is blandly neutral, matter-of-fact, and almost bored. "Look, you can say 'for now' all you want, but it's not going to change my mind about talking about it." Elias looks at him for several seconds again, his face completely unreadable. Finally he nods.
"Very well." You can tell he doesn't actually mean it, but you can let it go for now.
"Right, so, what is an Astronomican, and why can I see it from here?"
He he pulls out an elegant-looking device, and activates it. You can see the disruptive field it puts out, cursed energy and more ordinary energy alike. And then he tells you.
Ten thousand psykers, and one Emperor of All Mankind, powering and directing the beacon so that ships can navigate the depths of space through the Warp. Ten thousand, and a hundred or more die every day. It's fucked up, but if they chose it...
"Do they chose that life?"
"As I understand it, it is less a matter of chosing it, and more a matter of it being a calling," Elias explains. "Although we all started in the same place--all sanctioned psykers do--our paths diverged rather early on. But that is beside the point."
"You're right," you reply. "I don't like it, Elias. This isn't--is it really necessary?" you ask.
"Unfortunately, yes." You're not surprised by his answer; the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was one of hardship and sacrifice, so why would it be any different in the future? You can't help but feel a bit like a failure, even though you're not really sure how much of a difference anything you could have done thirty-eight thousand years ago could have made.
Your mind is already reaching for another solution, though. There has to be a way to navigate without burning people out. There has to be a way to make things better for your people; you just need more information. A lot more information. You turn your eyes to the beacon, and wonder how many deaths you're watching right now, in this moment.
"You're sure there isn't a way?"
"Not for humanity," Elias says, a little reluctantly. "The Aeldari--a xenos species--have a different means of travel, and--Satoru Gojo, do not!" he says sternly, raising an admonishing finger at your grin. "No good has ever come of meddling with the xenos and their Webway--"
"Soo~ It's called a 'Webway' hu~h?" Grin.
"Leave it, Gojo. I left your eyes, just leave this." You scoff. "You do not know how their Webway works. I do not know how their Webway works. From what I know of the Aeldari, it could very well be something far more terrible than people voluntarily dying to support the Imperium."
You frown a little, and--
"Please do not ask me to explain right now," Elias sighs. "If you truly wish to learn of the atrocities of xenos, I would be glad to provide documents for you to peruse, but I do not enjoy discussing them unless absolutely necessary." You lean back again.
"Yeah, all right," you say. As long as you're getting reading material, you guess. "So what kind of horror is the Eye of Terror?"
"It is a place where the Warp overlaps with the material world, and impinges upon it, populated by daemons and heretics, servants of Chaos, entire worlds soaked in the madness of it all, warped and transformed by the wills of the daemons that rule them. It is a terrible place," Elias replies. "And I am surprised you can see it."
"Why? It's at least as 'bright' as the Astronomican..."
"While psykers tend to be aware of the Astronomican, most cannot sense the Eye unless they are in much closer proximity to it than we currently are," Elias explains. You frown at your empty cup; you're not sure when you ran out of latte. You could go for another one.
"I'm not just any psyker," you remind him. He smiles a little.
"That is eminiently evident. Which brings us to what I wanted to discuss. I have acquired the paperwork necessary to make you exist again, with a legal identity and everything." He pats the folder. "It is of course entirely up to you if you want to--though I highly recommend it, as you could encounter... difficulties without one."
[] Do the paperwork. It's not like it can actually tie you down anyway.
[] Don't do the paperwork. They can't stop you if they don't know you exist.
[] Something else? (Write in.)
"Gojo," he greets you, voice even. "Are you ready?"
"I'm even dressed!" you don't quite chirp, grinning so that it's audible. "You can come over any time."
"I'll have drinks sent. Do you have a preference?"
"Triple iced vanilla caramel latte, six pumps vanilla, eight pumps caramel, but I doubt you can get that here," you reply. Elias is silent for a moment before he answers.
"You may be surprised," he says. "I'll see you soon." He ends the call, and you strap the vox to your wrist, and then the hair goes up, and the blindfold goes on, and oh that's a relief. You should have put that on ages ago. You were running closer than you like to sensory overload. It's not as though cutting off your physical vision hampers you in any way, anyway.
It's a trade-off, either way; some things (the excessive skull detailing) become less distinct, but others stand out more: that beacon, for instance, and the blot that mirrors it. Both are much more stark in your vision when the local physical distractions are cut off. They're still far too distant to make out any actual details of course, you would have to be much closer to learn anything more about them than what you have already deduced, but they do both shine (for want of a better word, in the case of the blot) more brightly to you now.
The amount of ambient cursed energy in this place is more starkly outlined now too, in the way it lays thickly over everything, and makes your current lack of (honestly overrated) colour vision completely redundant. Even if you didn't already know the colour of the bedspread you'd be able to recognise it as red, just from the interactions of the cursed energy with it. (It's a skill that took you a long time to develop, but it's a great party trick. You have a lot of great party tricks.)
Some twenty minutes after your call with Elias—spent rummaging through your phone to find out just what you do and do not still have on it—there is a knock at the door. Since you can see Elias' cursed energy (stronger now than it had been before you went to bed; he must be recovering), you just call out,
"It's open!" from your place slouched indolently at the head of the little table in the sitting room. Feet up, chair tilted at an angle impossible for anyone else, phone in hand, the perfect image of no fucks given.
Elias, when he comes in, doesn't even blink.
"I see you are feeling better," he says. He sets two drinks down on the table, and slides one over to you. Ice clinks in the glass, pale brown liquid sloshing slightly. "I had to pay a personal visit to the kitchen for this. I hope it is satisfactory." He has a folder as well, an actual paper folder, that he sets down as well.
A faint, sweet smell hits your nose, and while it's not quite right… it's not entirely wrong, either. You feel your eyebrows quirk up, and you reach for the drink. Another sniff closer up reveals the definite smell of coffee and burnt sugar, and of course sweet. You hum thoughtfully, and take a sip.
There's coffee—strong—and caramel—good—but not a hint of vanilla. You look at Elias, and he gives you a very slight smile.
"While vanilla is out of the question—the chef did not know what it was—caramel is apparently quite easy, and both recaf and milk are available in abundance." You respond by taking a loooong sip of your iced caramel latte, and grin. (Recaf, the mysterious language section of your brain tells you, is Future for coffee. All right, you know what to ask for.)
"Not bad," you opine, after considering the taste a little more.
"I am glad to hear it. So. What did you want to talk about?" You consider countering by asking what he wanted to talk about for less than half a second, take another sip of your latte, and reply:
"Yeah so what's that bright thing off that way in space?" You point with unerring accuracy toward it. "And while we're at it, what's the… concentration of cursed energy that way?" Again, you point. Elias arches an eyebrow briefly, and then he looks distant, and you can see his own cursed energy at work, as he looks one way, and then the other.
"Exactly how distant?" he asks.
"Parsecs," you reply. "Really far away." You can see the moment it clicks in his head, and both his eyebrows go up.
"I believe you are seeing—or sensing?"
"Seeing."
"Seeing the light of the Astronomican, and what we call the Eye of Terror," he says softly, and a little unsettled. "That should be—what is going on with your eyes?"
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," you say, not really joking at all. "Or give you severe brain damage, seal you up, or something else along those lines, and I'd really rather not." You actually kind of like Elias. He's excellent at handling your bullshit, and such people are not to be undervalued.
"You are not joking," Elias states, eyeing you warily.
"Nope." You pop the P, just because. "So let's table this part of the discussion permanently, and just agree that I can see what I can see, which is basically everything, okay?" You take another sip of your latte. Several seconds pass in silence before Elias finally nods.
"Very well," he says. "We will table it for now."
"Forever." Your voice is blandly neutral, matter-of-fact, and almost bored. "Look, you can say 'for now' all you want, but it's not going to change my mind about talking about it." Elias looks at him for several seconds again, his face completely unreadable. Finally he nods.
"Very well." You can tell he doesn't actually mean it, but you can let it go for now.
"Right, so, what is an Astronomican, and why can I see it from here?"
He he pulls out an elegant-looking device, and activates it. You can see the disruptive field it puts out, cursed energy and more ordinary energy alike. And then he tells you.
Ten thousand psykers, and one Emperor of All Mankind, powering and directing the beacon so that ships can navigate the depths of space through the Warp. Ten thousand, and a hundred or more die every day. It's fucked up, but if they chose it...
"Do they chose that life?"
"As I understand it, it is less a matter of chosing it, and more a matter of it being a calling," Elias explains. "Although we all started in the same place--all sanctioned psykers do--our paths diverged rather early on. But that is beside the point."
"You're right," you reply. "I don't like it, Elias. This isn't--is it really necessary?" you ask.
"Unfortunately, yes." You're not surprised by his answer; the life of a jujutsu sorcerer was one of hardship and sacrifice, so why would it be any different in the future? You can't help but feel a bit like a failure, even though you're not really sure how much of a difference anything you could have done thirty-eight thousand years ago could have made.
Your mind is already reaching for another solution, though. There has to be a way to navigate without burning people out. There has to be a way to make things better for your people; you just need more information. A lot more information. You turn your eyes to the beacon, and wonder how many deaths you're watching right now, in this moment.
"You're sure there isn't a way?"
"Not for humanity," Elias says, a little reluctantly. "The Aeldari--a xenos species--have a different means of travel, and--Satoru Gojo, do not!" he says sternly, raising an admonishing finger at your grin. "No good has ever come of meddling with the xenos and their Webway--"
"Soo~ It's called a 'Webway' hu~h?" Grin.
"Leave it, Gojo. I left your eyes, just leave this." You scoff. "You do not know how their Webway works. I do not know how their Webway works. From what I know of the Aeldari, it could very well be something far more terrible than people voluntarily dying to support the Imperium."
You frown a little, and--
"Please do not ask me to explain right now," Elias sighs. "If you truly wish to learn of the atrocities of xenos, I would be glad to provide documents for you to peruse, but I do not enjoy discussing them unless absolutely necessary." You lean back again.
"Yeah, all right," you say. As long as you're getting reading material, you guess. "So what kind of horror is the Eye of Terror?"
"It is a place where the Warp overlaps with the material world, and impinges upon it, populated by daemons and heretics, servants of Chaos, entire worlds soaked in the madness of it all, warped and transformed by the wills of the daemons that rule them. It is a terrible place," Elias replies. "And I am surprised you can see it."
"Why? It's at least as 'bright' as the Astronomican..."
"While psykers tend to be aware of the Astronomican, most cannot sense the Eye unless they are in much closer proximity to it than we currently are," Elias explains. You frown at your empty cup; you're not sure when you ran out of latte. You could go for another one.
"I'm not just any psyker," you remind him. He smiles a little.
"That is eminiently evident. Which brings us to what I wanted to discuss. I have acquired the paperwork necessary to make you exist again, with a legal identity and everything." He pats the folder. "It is of course entirely up to you if you want to--though I highly recommend it, as you could encounter... difficulties without one."
[] Do the paperwork. It's not like it can actually tie you down anyway.
[] Don't do the paperwork. They can't stop you if they don't know you exist.
[] Something else? (Write in.)
[X] Do the paperwork. It's not like it can actually tie you down anyway.
-[X] Complain loudly about doing paperwork even after 38,000 years in the future.
-[X] Read the paperwork to make sure it not a trap that would annoy us in the future.
wonder if any record of us survived this long that this will throw up flags with.
changed my vote this one seems alot better
-[X] Complain loudly about doing paperwork even after 38,000 years in the future.
-[X] Read the paperwork to make sure it not a trap that would annoy us in the future.
wonder if any record of us survived this long that this will throw up flags with.
changed my vote this one seems alot better
Last edited:
- Location
- Here and there
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Do the paperwork. It's not like it can actually tie you down anyway.
-[X] Complain loudly about doing paperwork.
-[X] fill the paperwork with misinformation. Not like they can prove anything, and the idea of some old man getting a migraine trying to decipher what you've written makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
-[X] Complain loudly about doing paperwork.
-[X] fill the paperwork with misinformation. Not like they can prove anything, and the idea of some old man getting a migraine trying to decipher what you've written makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Satoru being secretive about 6 eyes makes sense.
[X] Do the paperwork. It's not like it can actually tie you down anyway.
-[X] Complain loudly about doing paperwork.
[X] Do the paperwork. It's not like it can actually tie you down anyway.
-[X] Complain loudly about doing paperwork.