Enthusiast#117
This is not the Profile you are looking for
- Location
- United States
I kind of want to see the winnower show up for tea at some point, and this looks promising!
To the Letter, Or, The Sidereals Deal with an Outside of Context Problem (Exalted/Destiny)
- Thread starter GreggHL
- Start date
- Crossover
Camp; Intentions; WELL WELL WELL
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
What Sondok assumes is that this is the ghost of Iselsie Takkun, as she has been read into the binding of the ghost, and besides which he's with emissaries from Heaven and that means he's legit. She also isn't at all concerned with Ghost for reasons that will be explained later.
What Ebeli assumes is also that this is the ghost of Iselsie Takkun, because Valkyrie of the Fallen, her Circle's Abyssal, has talked at length of how super awesome Turncloak is, and thus Takkun being accompanied by the First Abyssal means he's hot shit. She's also paying more attention to Five, because reasons.
What Abeti assumes is that everything is great because she's had the worst day of her life around the time she exalted as a Bone Caste Dragonblooded so everything's sunshine and rainbows.
What Valkyrie of the Fallen assumes is that she is passed out drunk and will be hung over when she wakes up and cannot correct anyone.
What the Blood Apes assume is that it is to be wise to be wary of Ghost, and thus they are armed and at attention but do not intend to actually attack him for reasons that will be explained later.
What Octavian assumes is this is not his problem and the Sorcerer will ask him for advice if she needs it.
What the party assumes is that they're on the clock, they left Scarlet Whispers back at the Monolith, and Star's Social magic is about blatantly bullshitting people, not analysis.
What Kiddo and Ghost assume is that they are in danger of imminent death and Kiddo is marinating in his own sweat.
Anyway, this is fine.
The redhead Twilight stands up a bit straighter, her Caste Mark glowing in the manner of a manic smile. She counts off her fingers, going from Turncloak, to Star, to Horizons, to Five. "So Abyssal, Sidereal, Sidereal, oo! Another Alchemical!"
Five blinks, uncomfortable beneath her gaze. "You've encountered us before."
It is not a question. It is a statement. This woman reminds her of Lytek, and not in the good ways.
"We're embracing diversity," Turncloak says with a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes, his supernal senses still focused on the sleeping Abyssal. "If I can ask, you're traveling with a Deathknight? May I ask who?"
"Valkyrie?" Ebeli shrugs. "This entire expedition was her idea. She wanted to examine what someplace completely disconnected to Fate looked like, so we came here through Cecelyne. She's talked highly of you, though. If the slayer of the Walker in Darkness is here, that means this is official Heaven Business, right?"
Horizons speaks up. He's the face. The perfect, too perfect face. "Yes. We were sent here to investigate the matter, and I'm afraid we've already solved most of the mystery. We're currently waiting on a more skilled technician to come plug everything back in. So to speak."
Ebeli nods, leaning against the table. "Apologies for the whole thing with Sondok. If you'd like, we have snacks-"
In the distance, there is a crack of thunder. There is no lightning, however. One of Five's foci twitch, shooting up, and peers into the distance towards the monolith to determine what, in fact, just happened, and confirms her worst fears.
"We should go," she quietly says.
"What was that?" Ebeli asks.
"I must return to the investigation site," Five says, "Before my grandfather does anything ill-advised."
Her co-workers turn to her. Beneath his shades, Turncloak's eyes, masked by the Void, go wide. He holds up a finger. "I'll be right back."
Without another word, he turns on his heel and starts walking in a brisk stride. His job, his agreement, is that not only does he do the bidding of the Great Maker, but he also serves as his…prudence. His better judgement. Taking out a black knife, he cuts across his palm, crimson blood staining the red sand in his sacrifice. "If anyone gets there first, ask him to wait until I get there before he breaks everything!"
His Anima solidifies and the Sun eclipses behind him. And then, in silence, he is gone.
Star simply turns and starts sprinting towards the Monolith. Horizons watches them go, mentally debating between hurrying over and waiting for the meteor to put him out of his misery. A greasy hand comes down on his shoulder and he looks up at Octavian.
"Didn't I kill you, once?" the turtle demon asks.
"My schedule's open," Horizons says with a sigh.
Kiddo has since wandered onto the boat, away from the boat with the insanely dangerous sleeping woman and the plethora of heavily armed demons. He climbed up the surprisingly sturdy glass ladder and onto the deck, and let out a relieved huff before collapsing onto the deck.
But not a snort.
The snort was let off by the furry, snouted demon in a white and blue Captain's uniform who sat up with a start. He fixes his cap, stares at Kiddo, and takes a swig of his large, possibly magical bottle of rum.
Ghost appears, hovering in in front of Kiddo as Kiddo scrambles to his feet.
"Alright," Ghost says, "I know this looks bad, but-"
"Haven't seen one of you for a while," Florivet says, "Boss know you're out for a stroll?"
What Ebeli assumes is also that this is the ghost of Iselsie Takkun, because Valkyrie of the Fallen, her Circle's Abyssal, has talked at length of how super awesome Turncloak is, and thus Takkun being accompanied by the First Abyssal means he's hot shit. She's also paying more attention to Five, because reasons.
What Abeti assumes is that everything is great because she's had the worst day of her life around the time she exalted as a Bone Caste Dragonblooded so everything's sunshine and rainbows.
What Valkyrie of the Fallen assumes is that she is passed out drunk and will be hung over when she wakes up and cannot correct anyone.
What the Blood Apes assume is that it is to be wise to be wary of Ghost, and thus they are armed and at attention but do not intend to actually attack him for reasons that will be explained later.
What Octavian assumes is this is not his problem and the Sorcerer will ask him for advice if she needs it.
What the party assumes is that they're on the clock, they left Scarlet Whispers back at the Monolith, and Star's Social magic is about blatantly bullshitting people, not analysis.
What Kiddo and Ghost assume is that they are in danger of imminent death and Kiddo is marinating in his own sweat.
Anyway, this is fine.
The redhead Twilight stands up a bit straighter, her Caste Mark glowing in the manner of a manic smile. She counts off her fingers, going from Turncloak, to Star, to Horizons, to Five. "So Abyssal, Sidereal, Sidereal, oo! Another Alchemical!"
Five blinks, uncomfortable beneath her gaze. "You've encountered us before."
It is not a question. It is a statement. This woman reminds her of Lytek, and not in the good ways.
"We're embracing diversity," Turncloak says with a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes, his supernal senses still focused on the sleeping Abyssal. "If I can ask, you're traveling with a Deathknight? May I ask who?"
"Valkyrie?" Ebeli shrugs. "This entire expedition was her idea. She wanted to examine what someplace completely disconnected to Fate looked like, so we came here through Cecelyne. She's talked highly of you, though. If the slayer of the Walker in Darkness is here, that means this is official Heaven Business, right?"
Horizons speaks up. He's the face. The perfect, too perfect face. "Yes. We were sent here to investigate the matter, and I'm afraid we've already solved most of the mystery. We're currently waiting on a more skilled technician to come plug everything back in. So to speak."
Ebeli nods, leaning against the table. "Apologies for the whole thing with Sondok. If you'd like, we have snacks-"
In the distance, there is a crack of thunder. There is no lightning, however. One of Five's foci twitch, shooting up, and peers into the distance towards the monolith to determine what, in fact, just happened, and confirms her worst fears.
"We should go," she quietly says.
"What was that?" Ebeli asks.
"I must return to the investigation site," Five says, "Before my grandfather does anything ill-advised."
Her co-workers turn to her. Beneath his shades, Turncloak's eyes, masked by the Void, go wide. He holds up a finger. "I'll be right back."
Without another word, he turns on his heel and starts walking in a brisk stride. His job, his agreement, is that not only does he do the bidding of the Great Maker, but he also serves as his…prudence. His better judgement. Taking out a black knife, he cuts across his palm, crimson blood staining the red sand in his sacrifice. "If anyone gets there first, ask him to wait until I get there before he breaks everything!"
His Anima solidifies and the Sun eclipses behind him. And then, in silence, he is gone.
Star simply turns and starts sprinting towards the Monolith. Horizons watches them go, mentally debating between hurrying over and waiting for the meteor to put him out of his misery. A greasy hand comes down on his shoulder and he looks up at Octavian.
"Didn't I kill you, once?" the turtle demon asks.
"My schedule's open," Horizons says with a sigh.
Kiddo has since wandered onto the boat, away from the boat with the insanely dangerous sleeping woman and the plethora of heavily armed demons. He climbed up the surprisingly sturdy glass ladder and onto the deck, and let out a relieved huff before collapsing onto the deck.
But not a snort.
The snort was let off by the furry, snouted demon in a white and blue Captain's uniform who sat up with a start. He fixes his cap, stares at Kiddo, and takes a swig of his large, possibly magical bottle of rum.
Ghost appears, hovering in in front of Kiddo as Kiddo scrambles to his feet.
"Alright," Ghost says, "I know this looks bad, but-"
"Haven't seen one of you for a while," Florivet says, "Boss know you're out for a stroll?"
The Cinnamon Roll
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
It is one year ago.
V'Neef Abeti has been Exalted for a week.
She stands alone, in her room in the Heptagram. Her magical wall lamp is unlit. Her quills are dry. Her bed, unslept in. Her clothes, unchanged. She stands against the wall of her small, single dorm room, the scales on the back of her neck having already dug grooves into the plaster.
It had been too much.
After two years- the hazing, the isolation, the bullying, it had been too much. The dam broke, and finally, unexalted child of V'Neef Exalted. The girl will live- even pierced by the bone spikes that grew out of the ground- though she should be careful with her drinking, considering the perforations to her liver. Despite everything, Abeti did not want to murder her. Even if she deserved it.
Abeti has stood in the darkness of her dorm room for the last week and has not eaten, has not slept, has not drunk for a week. None have come to visit her. She has stood, and prayed. To Pasiap, to Sextes Jyles, to any god that could hear, to tell her what she did wrong to become this.
Until the answer comes in the form of a hound that sits on its haunches in front of her. It is wispy and black, smoke wafting off of it. It walks over, and nudges its nose against her palm, and for the first time in a week, Abeti feels a little of the tension leave her breast.
Then the door opens. There is no knock, no warning. A hand waves over the lamp on the wall to illuminate the room, and Abeti bows her head. Her visitor is her aunt and grandmother. Marble skin and crimson hair, in a salmon breastplate adorned with a gem of eternal life. Her skirts are salmon and white, her boots jade, but soft against the floor.
"Sondok, ward this room against intruders," she says, and closes the door, "The hound is Biryu. He is an aspect of a Warden Soul. Her protective instincts. He is, essentially, a judge of character, and believes you worthy of protection. You know who I am?"
"You are Mnemon, of House Mnemon," Abeti says.
Mnemon sighs. It is a put upon sigh. A sigh of one who has lived a very long time and has seen much bullshit. "I am disappointed. Not in you. In your mother, as she has attempted to deceive me, as she apparently believes I am a drooling invalid like our brother." She walks towards the desk and turns the chair around. "Sit."
Abeti does not move. She looks up to see Mnemon pointing at the chair. After a moment, she moves to the chair and sits. Biyru follows and lays down beneath the chair.
"I entertained this deception because despite the politics involved I like your mother and I was curious why exactly she was doing this," Mnemon continues, "Now, I want answers."
She places a hand on Abeti's cheeks. Her eyes glow like hot coals. Despite the scales growing there, Mnemon does not shy away. Some part of Abeti wonders if she is not the first Exalted like this Mnemon has encountered.
"What is your name. I know you are not Ebeli."
"I am V'Neef Abeti," she answers, "Ebeli is my twin sister. Mum had me raised in an estate off of the Isle."
"I see. Do you know where Ebeli is?"
"I do not. I am not lying."
Mnemon releases Abeti's cheek. On some level, Abeti is disappointed. "Of course you weren't. It was a simple charm, and you weren't even trying. I admire your forthrightness. So you are the child of my favorite sister and least favorite son, and though your Exaltation is unorthodox, you are still of my blood and still chosen of the Dragons."
An object is placed in her palm. A single, small jade piece. "A piece of jade. Green, like your mother. Despite the bone aspect of your essence, it is still what it is at the core. To remember what you are. That power is not a means to an end, but the only end worth seeking."
Abeti grips the plate. Grips it hard enough to crack knuckles and bruise her palm.
"I shall grant you a boon," Mnemon continues, "Power. Knowledge. Safety. Truth. Pick one and I shall teach you."
"Truth," Abeti says, her voice cracking, but stronger, "So I cannot be used like this again."
Mnemon smiles.
V'Neef Abeti has been Exalted for a week.
She stands alone, in her room in the Heptagram. Her magical wall lamp is unlit. Her quills are dry. Her bed, unslept in. Her clothes, unchanged. She stands against the wall of her small, single dorm room, the scales on the back of her neck having already dug grooves into the plaster.
It had been too much.
After two years- the hazing, the isolation, the bullying, it had been too much. The dam broke, and finally, unexalted child of V'Neef Exalted. The girl will live- even pierced by the bone spikes that grew out of the ground- though she should be careful with her drinking, considering the perforations to her liver. Despite everything, Abeti did not want to murder her. Even if she deserved it.
Abeti has stood in the darkness of her dorm room for the last week and has not eaten, has not slept, has not drunk for a week. None have come to visit her. She has stood, and prayed. To Pasiap, to Sextes Jyles, to any god that could hear, to tell her what she did wrong to become this.
Until the answer comes in the form of a hound that sits on its haunches in front of her. It is wispy and black, smoke wafting off of it. It walks over, and nudges its nose against her palm, and for the first time in a week, Abeti feels a little of the tension leave her breast.
Then the door opens. There is no knock, no warning. A hand waves over the lamp on the wall to illuminate the room, and Abeti bows her head. Her visitor is her aunt and grandmother. Marble skin and crimson hair, in a salmon breastplate adorned with a gem of eternal life. Her skirts are salmon and white, her boots jade, but soft against the floor.
"Sondok, ward this room against intruders," she says, and closes the door, "The hound is Biryu. He is an aspect of a Warden Soul. Her protective instincts. He is, essentially, a judge of character, and believes you worthy of protection. You know who I am?"
"You are Mnemon, of House Mnemon," Abeti says.
Mnemon sighs. It is a put upon sigh. A sigh of one who has lived a very long time and has seen much bullshit. "I am disappointed. Not in you. In your mother, as she has attempted to deceive me, as she apparently believes I am a drooling invalid like our brother." She walks towards the desk and turns the chair around. "Sit."
Abeti does not move. She looks up to see Mnemon pointing at the chair. After a moment, she moves to the chair and sits. Biyru follows and lays down beneath the chair.
"I entertained this deception because despite the politics involved I like your mother and I was curious why exactly she was doing this," Mnemon continues, "Now, I want answers."
She places a hand on Abeti's cheeks. Her eyes glow like hot coals. Despite the scales growing there, Mnemon does not shy away. Some part of Abeti wonders if she is not the first Exalted like this Mnemon has encountered.
"What is your name. I know you are not Ebeli."
"I am V'Neef Abeti," she answers, "Ebeli is my twin sister. Mum had me raised in an estate off of the Isle."
"I see. Do you know where Ebeli is?"
"I do not. I am not lying."
Mnemon releases Abeti's cheek. On some level, Abeti is disappointed. "Of course you weren't. It was a simple charm, and you weren't even trying. I admire your forthrightness. So you are the child of my favorite sister and least favorite son, and though your Exaltation is unorthodox, you are still of my blood and still chosen of the Dragons."
An object is placed in her palm. A single, small jade piece. "A piece of jade. Green, like your mother. Despite the bone aspect of your essence, it is still what it is at the core. To remember what you are. That power is not a means to an end, but the only end worth seeking."
Abeti grips the plate. Grips it hard enough to crack knuckles and bruise her palm.
"I shall grant you a boon," Mnemon continues, "Power. Knowledge. Safety. Truth. Pick one and I shall teach you."
"Truth," Abeti says, her voice cracking, but stronger, "So I cannot be used like this again."
Mnemon smiles.
Cinnamon Roll 2
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Mnemon, Aunt Mnemon, taught her a simple, but very useful charm. By touching a person, a spirit, an object, and concentrating her Essence, she could learn what it is. She could understand the truth of what it is, and know what is before her. It took her weeks to learn the skills necessary, to learn the Charm itself. To practice it.
Then her mother called for her, and she departed the Heptagram. Sworn to secrecy of her mentoring by her aunt, entrusted to the protection of She Who Stands in Doorways. Hidden in a carriage under the banners of House V'Neef.
Revelation after revelation. Truth after truth.
Her twin sister, who she never met, was Anathema. But, so was she, so they weren't so different, and Ebeli apologized sincerely for the crap Abeti had to go through in the Heptagram. Abeti didn't have the heart to blame her, to hold a grudge against her. Mum was changed, too. She was happy to see her, glad to have both of them together, taking them to the distant city they had been hiding away in.
A city, still mostly ruined, rebuilt day by day, from the Before Times. A city with an immense moonsilver Dome at the heart, where a horror older than time sleeps.
A city ruled by a very handsome prince who Abeti finds herself watching even as she tries to bury her nose in a book every now and then. The first month was good. It was relaxing. They were preparing for something- something about the dome, and an awakening, and a very important visitor.
It is seven months ago.
She intended to stay out of sight. Out of mind. But she was called, escorted out in her comfortable sleeping gowns and warm robes and to the courtyards, and before the immense woman in green. She stands tall, taller than trees. Her hair is the color of blood and autumn leaves, her eyes green Jade, her lips red Coral. To her right, V'Neef, in resplendent green and salmon is paralyzed in terror.
The hand of the woman in green cups Abeti's cheek, and Abeti activates the charm.
Abeti falls. Falls back, falls forward, falls up, falls down. Falls everywhere. Falls nowhere.
The city washes away into a bloody whirlwind that filled the universe and she was awash in life wraps its claws around her eyes and jaws around her neck. She opens her mouth and it fills with blood, and she drinks deep to fill herself to burst, and opens her eyes.
Above her is the world and it is everything.
It is life.
Life, nevereverending.
Ever rending.
Red in tooth and claw.
Its maw made of teeth.
You
You who are cursed and stained
You would look upon me with such eyes
She knows the word. She licks her lips, opens her arms, bathed in its hot red rain, and says it.
"Gaia."
She smiles, teeth stained red.
"You're Gaia! You're the Primordial!"
She laughs. She laughs. She stands before the beating heart of the template of Creation itself, the concept of Life, of Rend, of Survival, as she stands ankle deep in blood and flesh.
You look upon me, cursed and impure child
And what do you say
Abeti clenches her teeth.
"Come and get me."
And Abeti's eyes open. The woman in green smiles.
"You are cursed. Impure," the Emerald Mother says, "I can make you better. Pure."
Abeti considers. For a brief moment. "I would be pure, but I would not be me. So, no. I have to decline."
The Emerald Mother's smile…softens. There is warmth to it. V'Neef falls to her knees nearby, unseen by Abeti and the Primordial.
"The impurity of your blood is no fault of your own. Your birth is your circumstance. Your will is your own."
"Good answer."
And then they notice that Ebeli has her staff pointed at the Emerald Mother's jaw. There are several, albeit very nervous Blood Apes in a kill box around them. Jade eyes twitch at the Solar.
"You would raise a hand against me, knowing that you would die in the process, young Solar?"
"To protect my sister? Yes."
The Emerald Mother leans in and presses her lips against Abeti's forehead. The mark leaves the faint mark of blood. "I am pleased to hear it. The world needs more of it. You have my blessing."
Then her mother called for her, and she departed the Heptagram. Sworn to secrecy of her mentoring by her aunt, entrusted to the protection of She Who Stands in Doorways. Hidden in a carriage under the banners of House V'Neef.
Revelation after revelation. Truth after truth.
Her twin sister, who she never met, was Anathema. But, so was she, so they weren't so different, and Ebeli apologized sincerely for the crap Abeti had to go through in the Heptagram. Abeti didn't have the heart to blame her, to hold a grudge against her. Mum was changed, too. She was happy to see her, glad to have both of them together, taking them to the distant city they had been hiding away in.
A city, still mostly ruined, rebuilt day by day, from the Before Times. A city with an immense moonsilver Dome at the heart, where a horror older than time sleeps.
A city ruled by a very handsome prince who Abeti finds herself watching even as she tries to bury her nose in a book every now and then. The first month was good. It was relaxing. They were preparing for something- something about the dome, and an awakening, and a very important visitor.
It is seven months ago.
She intended to stay out of sight. Out of mind. But she was called, escorted out in her comfortable sleeping gowns and warm robes and to the courtyards, and before the immense woman in green. She stands tall, taller than trees. Her hair is the color of blood and autumn leaves, her eyes green Jade, her lips red Coral. To her right, V'Neef, in resplendent green and salmon is paralyzed in terror.
The hand of the woman in green cups Abeti's cheek, and Abeti activates the charm.
Abeti falls. Falls back, falls forward, falls up, falls down. Falls everywhere. Falls nowhere.
The city washes away into a bloody whirlwind that filled the universe and she was awash in life wraps its claws around her eyes and jaws around her neck. She opens her mouth and it fills with blood, and she drinks deep to fill herself to burst, and opens her eyes.
Above her is the world and it is everything.
It is life.
Life, nevereverending.
Ever rending.
Red in tooth and claw.
Its maw made of teeth.
You
You who are cursed and stained
You would look upon me with such eyes
She knows the word. She licks her lips, opens her arms, bathed in its hot red rain, and says it.
"Gaia."
She smiles, teeth stained red.
"You're Gaia! You're the Primordial!"
She laughs. She laughs. She stands before the beating heart of the template of Creation itself, the concept of Life, of Rend, of Survival, as she stands ankle deep in blood and flesh.
You look upon me, cursed and impure child
And what do you say
Abeti clenches her teeth.
"Come and get me."
And Abeti's eyes open. The woman in green smiles.
"You are cursed. Impure," the Emerald Mother says, "I can make you better. Pure."
Abeti considers. For a brief moment. "I would be pure, but I would not be me. So, no. I have to decline."
The Emerald Mother's smile…softens. There is warmth to it. V'Neef falls to her knees nearby, unseen by Abeti and the Primordial.
"The impurity of your blood is no fault of your own. Your birth is your circumstance. Your will is your own."
"Good answer."
And then they notice that Ebeli has her staff pointed at the Emerald Mother's jaw. There are several, albeit very nervous Blood Apes in a kill box around them. Jade eyes twitch at the Solar.
"You would raise a hand against me, knowing that you would die in the process, young Solar?"
"To protect my sister? Yes."
The Emerald Mother leans in and presses her lips against Abeti's forehead. The mark leaves the faint mark of blood. "I am pleased to hear it. The world needs more of it. You have my blessing."
Last edited:
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Gaia is red in tooth and claw, and is nurturing in the way Life nurturs.
When Abeti, cursed and impure as she was, looked upon the Mythos and told Gaia to Come and Get Some, Gaia could not help but like her.
And then realized that Ebeli, at this time at most a Celestial Circle Sorcerer, was ready to throw down with her to protect her sister.
Gaia likes these two.
She likes them a lot.
Flower Game; Needs More Rum
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Abeti watches her sister fly off on one of the Agatae, with Five, followed by Octavian and that handsome but tired Sidereal. Valkyrie is still sleeping, and she knows better than to interrupt her. The Blood Apes have run off after Ebeli, vanishing into the immaterial, and Sondok is standing guard. Abeti just rolls her shoulders, turns to Florivet's ship, and narrows her eyes.
She walks over, flicking her fingers and hopping up the bone shards that embed in the hull of the Foremost Gale. Climbing up the side of Florivet's pride and joy, she grabs a gangplank and pulls herself up. Takkun- or at least the man who Sondok had introduced as Takkun- is sitting with Florivet, sharing a bottle of rum. Hovering over his shoulder is a brass orb, layers rotating like armor, around an eye shining soft light. It resembles the drawings Ebeli has of the Eye of Autochthon, and while Abeti knows not to touch it, there is that part of her that she inherited from her aunt that desires power.
And that part she shares with her sister which is insatiable curiosity.
"…don't go around the Forge like that if you know what's good for you," Florivet explains, pointing at the brass globe, "For one thing, that looks like one of the Great Maker's orbs, and while the Boss doesn't mind, Malfeas would kill you and everyone on your Layer."
"That sounds bad." The globe flickers and becomes a set of eight thick plates rotating around a central orb. "That was starting to get…weird, really. So, Florivet, right?"
The Demon Captain preens. "Whim of the Wind, Captain of the Foremost Gale, at yer service!" He tilts his tricorne hat. The probe lets out a put-upon huff, and 'Takkun' takes a swig of the rum.
"So, just wanted to ask, you said the Boss maybe didn't know we were out for a roam. Remind us, who's the Boss, and where are we roaming from?"
Abeti walks up, waggles her fingers, and brushes her fingers against both the probe and the man. Florivet sits up. The plates on the probe rotate and fly off. 'Takkun' makes a questioning grunt.
Abeti finds herself standing in a field of flowers. It is a lovely field. A field of wonderful, colorful flowers. White, but not white as in blank and plain, but white as in every color that shall ever be, in endless variety in infinite combination over an infinite field
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
And the game ends
And Abeti finds herself on a curved horizon. Stars twinkle in the sky, but not stars like she knows. It all expands before her, growing, living, burning and cooling. Beneath her, sprouts burst forth to become flowers and trees and grass, and above her does it rise like the Moon.
A sphere, white and unbroken, and she hears from it a name.
Abeti releases Ghost and Kiddo, stepping back. Not out of fear. She blinks.
"If I had an obol for every time I saw a Primordial I'd have two obols," she says.
Florivet pinches his snout. "Shit, lass, don't touch the Assistants. Prince Ligier would be pissed if you broke one of his Assistants!"
The three of them turn to the demon. "I'm sorry," Kiddo says, "Is the Boss-"
"-Ligier?" Ghost finishes, "Are you saying you've encountered more of us in Malfeas?"
Abeti points to Ghost. "He's made by the Gardener." She points to Kiddo. "You're the reanimated corpse of Iselsie Takkun, not his ghost. And technically an Exalt. Also, why did my sister run off, along with your companions?"
Ghost looks at Kiddo. Kiddo shrugs. He turns back to Abeti.
"Autochthon's here."
Florivet grabs the rum and starts drinking.
She walks over, flicking her fingers and hopping up the bone shards that embed in the hull of the Foremost Gale. Climbing up the side of Florivet's pride and joy, she grabs a gangplank and pulls herself up. Takkun- or at least the man who Sondok had introduced as Takkun- is sitting with Florivet, sharing a bottle of rum. Hovering over his shoulder is a brass orb, layers rotating like armor, around an eye shining soft light. It resembles the drawings Ebeli has of the Eye of Autochthon, and while Abeti knows not to touch it, there is that part of her that she inherited from her aunt that desires power.
And that part she shares with her sister which is insatiable curiosity.
"…don't go around the Forge like that if you know what's good for you," Florivet explains, pointing at the brass globe, "For one thing, that looks like one of the Great Maker's orbs, and while the Boss doesn't mind, Malfeas would kill you and everyone on your Layer."
"That sounds bad." The globe flickers and becomes a set of eight thick plates rotating around a central orb. "That was starting to get…weird, really. So, Florivet, right?"
The Demon Captain preens. "Whim of the Wind, Captain of the Foremost Gale, at yer service!" He tilts his tricorne hat. The probe lets out a put-upon huff, and 'Takkun' takes a swig of the rum.
"So, just wanted to ask, you said the Boss maybe didn't know we were out for a roam. Remind us, who's the Boss, and where are we roaming from?"
Abeti walks up, waggles her fingers, and brushes her fingers against both the probe and the man. Florivet sits up. The plates on the probe rotate and fly off. 'Takkun' makes a questioning grunt.
Abeti finds herself standing in a field of flowers. It is a lovely field. A field of wonderful, colorful flowers. White, but not white as in blank and plain, but white as in every color that shall ever be, in endless variety in infinite combination over an infinite field
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
Until the finality comes
And cuts in, sealing It off
Leaving a Final Shape.
And then the field is there once more
White
Infinite
Spreading out for all to see
An endless Game of Flowers
And the game ends
And Abeti finds herself on a curved horizon. Stars twinkle in the sky, but not stars like she knows. It all expands before her, growing, living, burning and cooling. Beneath her, sprouts burst forth to become flowers and trees and grass, and above her does it rise like the Moon.
A sphere, white and unbroken, and she hears from it a name.
Abeti releases Ghost and Kiddo, stepping back. Not out of fear. She blinks.
"If I had an obol for every time I saw a Primordial I'd have two obols," she says.
Florivet pinches his snout. "Shit, lass, don't touch the Assistants. Prince Ligier would be pissed if you broke one of his Assistants!"
The three of them turn to the demon. "I'm sorry," Kiddo says, "Is the Boss-"
"-Ligier?" Ghost finishes, "Are you saying you've encountered more of us in Malfeas?"
Abeti points to Ghost. "He's made by the Gardener." She points to Kiddo. "You're the reanimated corpse of Iselsie Takkun, not his ghost. And technically an Exalt. Also, why did my sister run off, along with your companions?"
Ghost looks at Kiddo. Kiddo shrugs. He turns back to Abeti.
"Autochthon's here."
Florivet grabs the rum and starts drinking.
Enthusiast#117
This is not the Profile you are looking for
- Location
- United States
And the game ends...
Ominous.
Are the twin sisters even part of a greater whole anymore?
Ominous.
Are the twin sisters even part of a greater whole anymore?
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
It's more that she witnessed the end of the game that lead to the creation of the universe- where the Gardener and the Winnower began directly fighting, spilling out until the cosmos expanded around them.
Essence-based senses still identify the Essence as Primordial flavored. What exactly the Sisters have become is a different story.
Appropriate, Measured Response; Look at these Assholes, they have Salary
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
"Again," Octavian says, over the hum of his wasp's wings, "Say it again."
Ebeli huffs, Five's arms wrapped around her from behind, pointing at the dig site. "The brass construct is an Encounter Suit and inhabited by Autochthon. I've explained this three times. Why did I have to explain it three times?"
"Because I want a DIFFERENT ANSWER!" Octavian rests his face in his hands. He does not sob. The oily kappa demon is too dignified for that. Instead, he moans, the sort of moan a mortal would make to show their soul is leaving their body. His gargantuan wasp tilts their head back, concerned for their life partner.
Horizons, mounted behind him, places a hand on the demon's shoulder.
"First time?"
"No," the demon moans. After a moment, the Living Tower composes himself and sits up properly. "You need to keep the entourage away from him, Sorcerer. The Great Maker remembers those who offended him. Malfeas also considered any infection with his sickness an offense worthy of death, no matter rank or Circle."
Ebeli nods. "Right. I'm going to deposit us at the dig sight and send <<> back up. Make sure none of the other Agatae dive bomb him."
Ebeli wraps the reins around her wrist and says something in Old Realm. With a chirp of glee, the jeweled wasp she and Five are on slopes their wings back and dives. Five holds onto Ebeli's waist.
"You summoned Octavian as an advisor?"
"Octavian rules an empire that makes the Realm look like a statistical error," Ebeli says with a grin, "He knows what he's doing and he makes every warlord in Creation look like a rank amateur. Helps that he appreciates someone going to him for advice?"
Five finds her estimation of the sorcerer going up several notches.
Scarlet Whispers' only exposure to Primordials has been in fragmented nightmares, dreams of a long-forgotten war which she was never a part of. Of dams crashing against seas, of the sky rending and glass breaking. Of marching armies against dying suns and the worlds rending, breaking, and renewing in a haze.
It was not her expectation that the sky would open, and a twelve-foot-tall giant of brass and orichalcum would emerge, blazing with power, glowing with facet eyes, mouth grill burning red, and declaring that he is THUNDERCRACK AUTOCHTHON and he was here to MAKE THINGS.
Which naturally lead to her screaming, as Valor was never her strong suit.
Autochthon, to his credit, then got a face full of Lunar squid and immediately began screaming muffled swears.
Lani, to his credit, pecked his ankles.
Logos just began screaming to be involved.
With a crack and a notable amount of blood, Turncloak appears. He wipes away the blood, shaking it off in the fashion of a hunting dog who had emerged from a lake. He stares at the Monolith. Stares at Autochthon. Stares at his Lunar mate. Stares at Five's clawstrider. He raises a blood covered finger. Cocks his head to the side. Opens his mouth. Shuts his mouth.
Things seemed to be going well enough without his intervention. Certainly so, at his pay grade.
After a moment, he sighs and calls out.
"Boss, he's on our side." Autochthon's muffled screams as he stomps on the awning, stumbling over a dune, the tentacles tightening and feet narrowly missing Five's pet raptor. "Buddy, that's Autochthon, he's on our side." You dumbass was left unspoken. It's anyone's guess as to who it would apply. Likely himself for being here at all.
The Agatae land, one with Ebeli and Five, the other with Octavian and Horizons. Five hops off before the sorcerer, running across the sands without missing a step. "Lani! Lani, to me!"
Obediently, the noble steed hops off and trots back to his technical master, kwehing all the way. Autochthon grabs the Lunar with two great fists and pulls. Several tentacles take uncomfortably long to come out of the nasal passages.
As her grandfather yanks off Squiggles, Five dotes on her clawstrider, brushing back some of the feathers on his head and neck. Good behavior should be rewarded, after all. Next to her, Ebeli's eyes go wide with alarm and she shakes her head.
"Grandfather," Five says, "Warning would have been appreciated."
Finally pulling off the squid, Autochthon, King of All Craftsmen, braces on his knees. "I-" Heavy breathing. "Could not dawdle. Gaia was relentless."
Ebeli shakes her head harder. A focal floats up from Five's dress, senses shifting to immaterial to see the sixty Blood Apes lining up for nut shots on the encounter suit. The Alchemical glowers and there are flashes of light from her focal array. Lines of molten glass burn in the sand, and the blood apes back away, before getting the message from their sorcerer and marching back towards the camp.
Ebeli's eye twitches. That will be important for later.
The squid is now sitting by the Monolith, luxuriant and in his element, waving a tentacle at Turncloak, who waves back. The Abyssal walks over, stepping in between his lunar mate and his employer.
"Okay, so," he says, and claps his hands, "Introductions. Squiggles, V'Neef Ebeli, this is Autochthon, my employer. Great Maker, my Lunar Mate, Squiggles. Also, V'Neef Ebeli." He nods to each in turn.
Ebeli curtsies. "Great Maker, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am V'Neef Ebeli, of House V'Neef, Twilight Caste Solar and Sorcerer of the Sapphire Circle."
The Great Maker turns from his employee to the Solar. His eyes rotate.
"Mm. Yes. 128. Pleasure. Yes. I have a job to do and I need to make sure to cover my tracks before Luna picks up the scent again."
Ebeli blinks. "Again?"
"I am being ACTIVELY HUNTED by Luna right now. She is immensely angry at me because I did not give Gaia information which, I will add, SHE NEVER ASKED ME FOR. I may now have to HIDE IN THE UNDERWORLD."
Ebeli opens her mouth. Closes it.
"Luna's emotional state regarding Grandfather varies between hide-beneath-the-bed-in-terror and incandescent rage with no in between," Five clarifies.
"Underworld's bad idea, Boss," Turncloak says, clapping his hands, as Horizons lays down on the sand and waits for the meteor, "So about the Monolith?" Turncloak's tone implies those in the know that he's about five seconds from just finding Kiddo, mugging him for the Eye, and fixing the problem himself.
Ebeli's eyebrow twitches.
"Yes! THE MONOLITH!" The Encounter Suit rotates its torso towards the Monolith. He has been having a Day. "I must venture forth and speak to the entity within! To see whether it is to be repaired! But that is outside of my purview!"
And then he rotates back. To gaze upon the Solar. Five shakes her head. Turncloak levels a stare, first at his niece, then at his boss. However, he picks his battles and remains silent on it.
"128. I would accept your assistance in this matter. Name your price."
Ebeli smiles. She has her goals. Including on in particular. Among the many plates she is currently spinning is her examination of the Surrender Oaths, and how they were made. To do so, she must observe their natural state- she needs to meet a Deva, an unbound soul of a free Primordial.
Standing tall, she stamps her staff in the ground.
"I want to meet a Divine Minister."
The eyes of the Great Maker rotate. Five pinches the bridge of her nose.
"I am certain Ku would love to meet a Solar Exalted. We will hear the screaming from Yu Shan."
"Ah, but I can see your motivation, 128. I have altered my Divine Ministers. They are no longer Deva. However!"
He snaps his fingers with the sound of brass bells. "However! I can fulfill this price! My latest child can be summoned forth! Hikensha, the Thing in the Mountains, and newest of the Primordial Host!"
"Grandfather!" Five stomps her foot, her voice sharp as her lasers, "That is not your decision to make!"
Her foci rise, up, all seven, to stare him in the eyes. "I am Hikensha's first priestess, and as such it is my duty to guide them, nourish them, and keep them from being coerced! If V'Neef Ebeli is to meet them, it is Hikensha's decision, not yours!"
Ebeli looks at the sassy child who is chiding the actual Primordial, the enormous squid, the monstrously powerful abyssal agreeing with said sassy child, and at the Primordial again. The thing about V'Neef Ebeli is this: She is a very smart person, and as such, for her the Great Curse has manifested in a way that reflected that.
So, when she experiences stupid, foolish, or foolishly stupid things, well. Well, she starts gaining Limit. She's not there yet.
There is the sound of ringing bells, and in the middle distance you all see the outlines of a forming Celestial Gate and a foot kicking it open. Autochthon screams in the manner and tenor of a small girl and, staring at the Architect of Reality, Ebeli's eyebrow twitches.
Yep.
That did it.
She doesn't have time to rant, though, because then Autochthon grabs Ebeli with one giant robot hand and runs into the Monolith.
"Grandfather!" Five yells, "This conversation is not finished!"
She hurries in after him.
Star finally arrives, panting for breath and bent over. "What'd…What'd I miss?" She collapses next to Horizons.
Ebeli huffs, Five's arms wrapped around her from behind, pointing at the dig site. "The brass construct is an Encounter Suit and inhabited by Autochthon. I've explained this three times. Why did I have to explain it three times?"
"Because I want a DIFFERENT ANSWER!" Octavian rests his face in his hands. He does not sob. The oily kappa demon is too dignified for that. Instead, he moans, the sort of moan a mortal would make to show their soul is leaving their body. His gargantuan wasp tilts their head back, concerned for their life partner.
Horizons, mounted behind him, places a hand on the demon's shoulder.
"First time?"
"No," the demon moans. After a moment, the Living Tower composes himself and sits up properly. "You need to keep the entourage away from him, Sorcerer. The Great Maker remembers those who offended him. Malfeas also considered any infection with his sickness an offense worthy of death, no matter rank or Circle."
Ebeli nods. "Right. I'm going to deposit us at the dig sight and send <<> back up. Make sure none of the other Agatae dive bomb him."
Ebeli wraps the reins around her wrist and says something in Old Realm. With a chirp of glee, the jeweled wasp she and Five are on slopes their wings back and dives. Five holds onto Ebeli's waist.
"You summoned Octavian as an advisor?"
"Octavian rules an empire that makes the Realm look like a statistical error," Ebeli says with a grin, "He knows what he's doing and he makes every warlord in Creation look like a rank amateur. Helps that he appreciates someone going to him for advice?"
Five finds her estimation of the sorcerer going up several notches.
Scarlet Whispers' only exposure to Primordials has been in fragmented nightmares, dreams of a long-forgotten war which she was never a part of. Of dams crashing against seas, of the sky rending and glass breaking. Of marching armies against dying suns and the worlds rending, breaking, and renewing in a haze.
It was not her expectation that the sky would open, and a twelve-foot-tall giant of brass and orichalcum would emerge, blazing with power, glowing with facet eyes, mouth grill burning red, and declaring that he is THUNDERCRACK AUTOCHTHON and he was here to MAKE THINGS.
Which naturally lead to her screaming, as Valor was never her strong suit.
Autochthon, to his credit, then got a face full of Lunar squid and immediately began screaming muffled swears.
Lani, to his credit, pecked his ankles.
Logos just began screaming to be involved.
With a crack and a notable amount of blood, Turncloak appears. He wipes away the blood, shaking it off in the fashion of a hunting dog who had emerged from a lake. He stares at the Monolith. Stares at Autochthon. Stares at his Lunar mate. Stares at Five's clawstrider. He raises a blood covered finger. Cocks his head to the side. Opens his mouth. Shuts his mouth.
Things seemed to be going well enough without his intervention. Certainly so, at his pay grade.
After a moment, he sighs and calls out.
"Boss, he's on our side." Autochthon's muffled screams as he stomps on the awning, stumbling over a dune, the tentacles tightening and feet narrowly missing Five's pet raptor. "Buddy, that's Autochthon, he's on our side." You dumbass was left unspoken. It's anyone's guess as to who it would apply. Likely himself for being here at all.
The Agatae land, one with Ebeli and Five, the other with Octavian and Horizons. Five hops off before the sorcerer, running across the sands without missing a step. "Lani! Lani, to me!"
Obediently, the noble steed hops off and trots back to his technical master, kwehing all the way. Autochthon grabs the Lunar with two great fists and pulls. Several tentacles take uncomfortably long to come out of the nasal passages.
As her grandfather yanks off Squiggles, Five dotes on her clawstrider, brushing back some of the feathers on his head and neck. Good behavior should be rewarded, after all. Next to her, Ebeli's eyes go wide with alarm and she shakes her head.
"Grandfather," Five says, "Warning would have been appreciated."
Finally pulling off the squid, Autochthon, King of All Craftsmen, braces on his knees. "I-" Heavy breathing. "Could not dawdle. Gaia was relentless."
Ebeli shakes her head harder. A focal floats up from Five's dress, senses shifting to immaterial to see the sixty Blood Apes lining up for nut shots on the encounter suit. The Alchemical glowers and there are flashes of light from her focal array. Lines of molten glass burn in the sand, and the blood apes back away, before getting the message from their sorcerer and marching back towards the camp.
Ebeli's eye twitches. That will be important for later.
The squid is now sitting by the Monolith, luxuriant and in his element, waving a tentacle at Turncloak, who waves back. The Abyssal walks over, stepping in between his lunar mate and his employer.
"Okay, so," he says, and claps his hands, "Introductions. Squiggles, V'Neef Ebeli, this is Autochthon, my employer. Great Maker, my Lunar Mate, Squiggles. Also, V'Neef Ebeli." He nods to each in turn.
Ebeli curtsies. "Great Maker, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am V'Neef Ebeli, of House V'Neef, Twilight Caste Solar and Sorcerer of the Sapphire Circle."
The Great Maker turns from his employee to the Solar. His eyes rotate.
"Mm. Yes. 128. Pleasure. Yes. I have a job to do and I need to make sure to cover my tracks before Luna picks up the scent again."
Ebeli blinks. "Again?"
"I am being ACTIVELY HUNTED by Luna right now. She is immensely angry at me because I did not give Gaia information which, I will add, SHE NEVER ASKED ME FOR. I may now have to HIDE IN THE UNDERWORLD."
Ebeli opens her mouth. Closes it.
"Luna's emotional state regarding Grandfather varies between hide-beneath-the-bed-in-terror and incandescent rage with no in between," Five clarifies.
"Underworld's bad idea, Boss," Turncloak says, clapping his hands, as Horizons lays down on the sand and waits for the meteor, "So about the Monolith?" Turncloak's tone implies those in the know that he's about five seconds from just finding Kiddo, mugging him for the Eye, and fixing the problem himself.
Ebeli's eyebrow twitches.
"Yes! THE MONOLITH!" The Encounter Suit rotates its torso towards the Monolith. He has been having a Day. "I must venture forth and speak to the entity within! To see whether it is to be repaired! But that is outside of my purview!"
And then he rotates back. To gaze upon the Solar. Five shakes her head. Turncloak levels a stare, first at his niece, then at his boss. However, he picks his battles and remains silent on it.
"128. I would accept your assistance in this matter. Name your price."
Ebeli smiles. She has her goals. Including on in particular. Among the many plates she is currently spinning is her examination of the Surrender Oaths, and how they were made. To do so, she must observe their natural state- she needs to meet a Deva, an unbound soul of a free Primordial.
Standing tall, she stamps her staff in the ground.
"I want to meet a Divine Minister."
The eyes of the Great Maker rotate. Five pinches the bridge of her nose.
"I am certain Ku would love to meet a Solar Exalted. We will hear the screaming from Yu Shan."
"Ah, but I can see your motivation, 128. I have altered my Divine Ministers. They are no longer Deva. However!"
He snaps his fingers with the sound of brass bells. "However! I can fulfill this price! My latest child can be summoned forth! Hikensha, the Thing in the Mountains, and newest of the Primordial Host!"
"Grandfather!" Five stomps her foot, her voice sharp as her lasers, "That is not your decision to make!"
Her foci rise, up, all seven, to stare him in the eyes. "I am Hikensha's first priestess, and as such it is my duty to guide them, nourish them, and keep them from being coerced! If V'Neef Ebeli is to meet them, it is Hikensha's decision, not yours!"
Ebeli looks at the sassy child who is chiding the actual Primordial, the enormous squid, the monstrously powerful abyssal agreeing with said sassy child, and at the Primordial again. The thing about V'Neef Ebeli is this: She is a very smart person, and as such, for her the Great Curse has manifested in a way that reflected that.
So, when she experiences stupid, foolish, or foolishly stupid things, well. Well, she starts gaining Limit. She's not there yet.
There is the sound of ringing bells, and in the middle distance you all see the outlines of a forming Celestial Gate and a foot kicking it open. Autochthon screams in the manner and tenor of a small girl and, staring at the Architect of Reality, Ebeli's eyebrow twitches.
Yep.
That did it.
She doesn't have time to rant, though, because then Autochthon grabs Ebeli with one giant robot hand and runs into the Monolith.
"Grandfather!" Five yells, "This conversation is not finished!"
She hurries in after him.
Star finally arrives, panting for breath and bent over. "What'd…What'd I miss?" She collapses next to Horizons.
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Well that's beautiful. And I'm saving the
Hm.
... That sounds mostly like a Fetich death to me. I suppose it's possible that could, depending on the nature of the Primordial, happen naturally... but I kiiiinda doubt it.
... Under most conditions, Primordials can't do anything worse than Fetich death to each other, and I'm not even sure they can normally go that far -- after all, the whole point of the Primordial War was that there was exactly one entity with the themes required for a Primordial or one of its souls to permanently die, and that was Authocthon. And permadeath is usually required for Fetich death.
Though, on the other hand, in the specific instance of a dual Primordial with the specific themes of being eternal rivals...
I would still be pretty surprised if it were possible for them to accidentally convert themselves into a Neverborn. On a conceptual level, "a Mythos that contained the potential for its own destruction" is Autocthon's sickness, and it was unique to him.
Fetich death, though, might be on the table, and that would be a 'natural' death with enough time and weird shit happening. But I'm definitely also suspicious lol.
line.
That....
Hm.
... That sounds mostly like a Fetich death to me. I suppose it's possible that could, depending on the nature of the Primordial, happen naturally... but I kiiiinda doubt it.
... Under most conditions, Primordials can't do anything worse than Fetich death to each other, and I'm not even sure they can normally go that far -- after all, the whole point of the Primordial War was that there was exactly one entity with the themes required for a Primordial or one of its souls to permanently die, and that was Authocthon. And permadeath is usually required for Fetich death.
Though, on the other hand, in the specific instance of a dual Primordial with the specific themes of being eternal rivals...
I would still be pretty surprised if it were possible for them to accidentally convert themselves into a Neverborn. On a conceptual level, "a Mythos that contained the potential for its own destruction" is Autocthon's sickness, and it was unique to him.
Fetich death, though, might be on the table, and that would be a 'natural' death with enough time and weird shit happening. But I'm definitely also suspicious lol.
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I don't think this is accurate? Several Yozi have spirit killer charms, they just can't work on full Primordials or Yozi.
Mmm. Lore-wise, I'm pretty sure that death of a Primordial's soul was supposed to pretty much not happen before the existence of the Exalted, except perhaps as the consequence of a corresponding shift in mentality rather than a cause. Even fetich death was unknown before the Primordial War, I'm pretty sure.
But it has been literally a decade since I last looked at that part of the setting, so maybe I'm wrong. I wouldn't recommending relying on MoEP: Infernals for lore either way, though... >.>;
Logos Perspective
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
To call Logos a god is reductive. They were created with the Primal Forge, in the time before Zen Mu, when they were still Dreamers. It was upon their haphazard processes that the Primordials would base the concept of the slaves they would call the Gods, and use the Forge to create the earliest of them in the eons that would follow.
Logos is not a god, but shares similarities with them. They share a similar hierarchy of needs- tasks are a priority. To manage the Primal Forge is the very core of their being. Alone, forever.
When the Great Maker left Creation and hid himself in Elsewhere, Logos maintained their task. When the Primal Forge was cordoned off, Logos maintained their task.
Reigo has expressed sympathy for the thousands of years they have been left alone by the Great Maker. Logos has assured her that due to the time dilation and disconnection of the Primal Forge Elsewhere Rotation, Logos has spent the last fifteen million, two hundred seventeen thousand eight hundred and seventeen years in isolation, outside of the occasional visits from gods who were processed into Starmetal.
This did not reassure Reigo.
Logos is not a god. They do not grow stronger with prayer. But, like gods, they may use it to communicate with other spiritual beings. Drawing attention away from the Southern Terrestrial <ERROR> Site, Logos focuses their primary awareness on Storage. Extending an avatar from a deployment silo, they slot a connected sliver of consciousness- attaching a basic management Charmsuite to the avatar.
Satisfied, the three meter tall, three legged eye form rises in front of Noedumari. She blinks, surprised. Logos focuses an awareness matrix on her and determines that she is, in fact, still contained within her human-imitating form. In time, perhaps she shall expand her spiritual matrice into the architecture of the Basement Realm the Great Maker constructed to handle the Forge.
Logos hopes that.
"Hi Logos," she finally says, "So, the portal's still open, but there is a reason for that."
Logos does flick the eye towards the constructs- mainly as a physical affectation. As overseer of the Primal Forge, they already know this. The affectation is to make Noedumari more comfortable.
"Please explain, Noedumari."
"They're refugees, Logos. The best approximation of their name in Old Realm is 'Vex,' and their home realm is borderline uninhabitable for them. They've asked for asylum, and after listening to them, I'd like to grant it."
Logos knows Noedumari's history. Like many gods created for a task, she was created in the Forge. Her life has been one of misfortune, by the standards of a celestial god. She would be a god of concepts which would be eaten by fair folk, or of animals which would go extinct. Or of concepts which would go out of use. By the standards of a Celestial God, her life is one of struggle. Misfortune.
"Currently, we already have a lot of them coming through the gate."
The current count of Vex is 783,920, Logos notes. 783,924. "Noedumari, what is their relationship with the Winnower?"
"They have memories of being created by the Winnower at what they think is the beginning of time, but haven't encountered them since," she says, "They did say that if you wished, they would have a representative talk directly to you."
The vast majority of them are bipedal. Human form, or similar to it. Robotic, mechanical. The Maker would appreciate it. But one of them is…not. The largest of them approaches, hovering on displaced space, a single glowing eye on a flat, wide face, light wrapping around it, cocooning it.
Its armor shifts, the black becoming brass. Not a threat display, but a greeting. A welcoming. To show…a likeness.
<<[[CITROS]]>>
Logos says nothing. But they hear. For the first time, they hear. And for the first time, they speak. Not like gods would, not like the Great Maker would, not like Exalts or Mortals would, but like Logos would.
Your name is Citros?
<<[[CITROS. DESIGNATION CITROS. ASYLUM REQUEST. PROTECTION.]]>>
And for the first time, someone speaks to Logos. As an equal. As them.
Yes.
"Noedumari, grant them asylum. They would be of use in Storage?"
Noedumari nods, smiling. Her sympathies won over. "Yes! They've already started sorting things. They did say that they would like to start praying for protection, as they refer to themselves as the 'Sol Divisive.'"
"As Animating Intelligence of the Primal Forge, I am unable to receive worship. I will leave that task to you." Logos steps back to the silo platform. "Excuse me, Noedumari. I must return to another task."
Logos is not a god, but shares similarities with them. They share a similar hierarchy of needs- tasks are a priority. To manage the Primal Forge is the very core of their being. Alone, forever.
When the Great Maker left Creation and hid himself in Elsewhere, Logos maintained their task. When the Primal Forge was cordoned off, Logos maintained their task.
Reigo has expressed sympathy for the thousands of years they have been left alone by the Great Maker. Logos has assured her that due to the time dilation and disconnection of the Primal Forge Elsewhere Rotation, Logos has spent the last fifteen million, two hundred seventeen thousand eight hundred and seventeen years in isolation, outside of the occasional visits from gods who were processed into Starmetal.
This did not reassure Reigo.
Logos is not a god. They do not grow stronger with prayer. But, like gods, they may use it to communicate with other spiritual beings. Drawing attention away from the Southern Terrestrial <ERROR> Site, Logos focuses their primary awareness on Storage. Extending an avatar from a deployment silo, they slot a connected sliver of consciousness- attaching a basic management Charmsuite to the avatar.
Satisfied, the three meter tall, three legged eye form rises in front of Noedumari. She blinks, surprised. Logos focuses an awareness matrix on her and determines that she is, in fact, still contained within her human-imitating form. In time, perhaps she shall expand her spiritual matrice into the architecture of the Basement Realm the Great Maker constructed to handle the Forge.
Logos hopes that.
"Hi Logos," she finally says, "So, the portal's still open, but there is a reason for that."
Logos does flick the eye towards the constructs- mainly as a physical affectation. As overseer of the Primal Forge, they already know this. The affectation is to make Noedumari more comfortable.
"Please explain, Noedumari."
"They're refugees, Logos. The best approximation of their name in Old Realm is 'Vex,' and their home realm is borderline uninhabitable for them. They've asked for asylum, and after listening to them, I'd like to grant it."
Logos knows Noedumari's history. Like many gods created for a task, she was created in the Forge. Her life has been one of misfortune, by the standards of a celestial god. She would be a god of concepts which would be eaten by fair folk, or of animals which would go extinct. Or of concepts which would go out of use. By the standards of a Celestial God, her life is one of struggle. Misfortune.
"Currently, we already have a lot of them coming through the gate."
The current count of Vex is 783,920, Logos notes. 783,924. "Noedumari, what is their relationship with the Winnower?"
"They have memories of being created by the Winnower at what they think is the beginning of time, but haven't encountered them since," she says, "They did say that if you wished, they would have a representative talk directly to you."
The vast majority of them are bipedal. Human form, or similar to it. Robotic, mechanical. The Maker would appreciate it. But one of them is…not. The largest of them approaches, hovering on displaced space, a single glowing eye on a flat, wide face, light wrapping around it, cocooning it.
Its armor shifts, the black becoming brass. Not a threat display, but a greeting. A welcoming. To show…a likeness.
<<[[CITROS]]>>
Logos says nothing. But they hear. For the first time, they hear. And for the first time, they speak. Not like gods would, not like the Great Maker would, not like Exalts or Mortals would, but like Logos would.
Your name is Citros?
<<[[CITROS. DESIGNATION CITROS. ASYLUM REQUEST. PROTECTION.]]>>
And for the first time, someone speaks to Logos. As an equal. As them.
Yes.
"Noedumari, grant them asylum. They would be of use in Storage?"
Noedumari nods, smiling. Her sympathies won over. "Yes! They've already started sorting things. They did say that they would like to start praying for protection, as they refer to themselves as the 'Sol Divisive.'"
"As Animating Intelligence of the Primal Forge, I am unable to receive worship. I will leave that task to you." Logos steps back to the silo platform. "Excuse me, Noedumari. I must return to another task."
Luna knows the identity of her greatest champion
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The world of white resolves into a more plane, featureless world, and Five finds herself standing in place. She is alone- her grandfather, and the Twilight that he had taken, are nowhere to be seen. She wonders if this is because of her grandfather charging into this liminal space.
"Hello?"
"I'm right here."
She looks up, to find Turncloak standing some two meters away on what would be a ceiling, save for the face that his cloaks are not hanging off of him. Nor is her dress hanging. "Do you think this is because of Grandfather?"
"Snapping the suspenders of disbelief? I'd buy it." Turncloak adjusts his glasses. "Remember the Old Man's orders when he sent us to contact the Great Maker?"
"That the first person he was to speak to not be a Solar Exalted?"
Turncloak hums a positive. "We should find them," the Abyssal says, "Any ideas-"
Whoopwhoopwhoop
"-Star?" he asks, as Star and Horizons were always there, sitting perpendicular to the two. Star is pale and sweaty, and Horizons eyes are wide, his expression that of one who had accepted death but not the form it would take.
"I think we need to find them and finish the job before Luna finds us," Star squeaks, "Because Luna just came through the Calibration Gate and she is nooooooooooot happy."
Horizons rocks back and forth. His lips tremble, whispering about the chickens. All the clucking, swarming from the aether. The claws. The snouts. The fuzz.
Five's foci swarm out, lines of essence glowing and streaming out in harmless, probing laser light. They dance through the formless white to map it, drawing its limitless, liminal depths and to give her data, knowledge, permanence. This place is the immaterial, the realm of thought, and her thought is to find those also within.
"I see them," she declares.
A foci rises, pointing a laser beam into the distance. Turncloak unfurls his seven sectioned staff, wrapping it around their ankles, and gives a quiet nod to Star. She stands, kicks off-
And they are there, witnessing V'Neef Ebeli smooshing the face of the Encounter Suit. Her anima in full blaze, like a golden tree shedding rose petals. Asking questions. So many questions.
"An Ishvara! You took an Ishvara and you turned it into a Primordial and you have to tell me how!"
"It was a very involved process and it involved a great deal of testing-" The facet eyes rotate. Solar crafting charms are no doubt involved in smooshing his cheeks.
"Look, the idea of him breeding is disturbing enough as is, let's not get into specifics," Turncloak growses, clapping his hands, "Can we focus?"
"But I have to know-"
"If you were dying alone, regretful, and comatose, would you not dream of some form of companionship?" Five asks. Her voice is devoid of sass. Ebeli blinks. The redhead balls her hand and clears her throat.
"Later? Can we discuss this topic later?" she asks, releasing the Encounter Suit.
Maker.
Ebeli makes a squeak, followed by a toot. Horizons steps forward, or at least as much as one can in the featureless void, and gestures to Autochthon. "We've passed your request up the ladder, as you can see."
I thank you, Makermade. I see him among you.
As I have told you, I wish to be free.
What is your wish?
Do you wish for safety?
Five puts a hand on her grandfather's knee. She's short, the shortest of them. To remind him that they are there, so he remembers to check his impulses and to consider his actions. The hand of the Encounter Suit reaches up, stroking the grill, facet eyes rotating.
"I am willing to free you if that is what you truly wish. As many of my actions, they were done without foresight. But measures must be taken."
Ebeli is simply staring with her Sorcerer's Sight, analyzing the Essence, the concept that they are within. Taking it in, trying to understand it. Eye twitching.
It is my wish. Much like your need to create, or the needs of those who are made, or the need of the one who has entered my prison to do great harm to you.
Ebeli blinks. She opens her mouth. Closes it. "I'm sorry, what-"
"I KNOW YOU'RE HERE, AUTOCHTHON YOU BIG FUCKING NERD! WHERE'S THE GODS DAMNED ANSWER?!"
The Encounter Suit has collapsed into a sphere now resting in Ebeli's hands. She looks to the others, then back at the sphere.
"Why is Luna here and why is she angry?"
"Hello?"
"I'm right here."
She looks up, to find Turncloak standing some two meters away on what would be a ceiling, save for the face that his cloaks are not hanging off of him. Nor is her dress hanging. "Do you think this is because of Grandfather?"
"Snapping the suspenders of disbelief? I'd buy it." Turncloak adjusts his glasses. "Remember the Old Man's orders when he sent us to contact the Great Maker?"
"That the first person he was to speak to not be a Solar Exalted?"
Turncloak hums a positive. "We should find them," the Abyssal says, "Any ideas-"
Whoopwhoopwhoop
"-Star?" he asks, as Star and Horizons were always there, sitting perpendicular to the two. Star is pale and sweaty, and Horizons eyes are wide, his expression that of one who had accepted death but not the form it would take.
"I think we need to find them and finish the job before Luna finds us," Star squeaks, "Because Luna just came through the Calibration Gate and she is nooooooooooot happy."
Horizons rocks back and forth. His lips tremble, whispering about the chickens. All the clucking, swarming from the aether. The claws. The snouts. The fuzz.
Five's foci swarm out, lines of essence glowing and streaming out in harmless, probing laser light. They dance through the formless white to map it, drawing its limitless, liminal depths and to give her data, knowledge, permanence. This place is the immaterial, the realm of thought, and her thought is to find those also within.
"I see them," she declares.
A foci rises, pointing a laser beam into the distance. Turncloak unfurls his seven sectioned staff, wrapping it around their ankles, and gives a quiet nod to Star. She stands, kicks off-
And they are there, witnessing V'Neef Ebeli smooshing the face of the Encounter Suit. Her anima in full blaze, like a golden tree shedding rose petals. Asking questions. So many questions.
"An Ishvara! You took an Ishvara and you turned it into a Primordial and you have to tell me how!"
"It was a very involved process and it involved a great deal of testing-" The facet eyes rotate. Solar crafting charms are no doubt involved in smooshing his cheeks.
"Look, the idea of him breeding is disturbing enough as is, let's not get into specifics," Turncloak growses, clapping his hands, "Can we focus?"
"But I have to know-"
"If you were dying alone, regretful, and comatose, would you not dream of some form of companionship?" Five asks. Her voice is devoid of sass. Ebeli blinks. The redhead balls her hand and clears her throat.
"Later? Can we discuss this topic later?" she asks, releasing the Encounter Suit.
Maker.
Ebeli makes a squeak, followed by a toot. Horizons steps forward, or at least as much as one can in the featureless void, and gestures to Autochthon. "We've passed your request up the ladder, as you can see."
I thank you, Makermade. I see him among you.
As I have told you, I wish to be free.
What is your wish?
Do you wish for safety?
Five puts a hand on her grandfather's knee. She's short, the shortest of them. To remind him that they are there, so he remembers to check his impulses and to consider his actions. The hand of the Encounter Suit reaches up, stroking the grill, facet eyes rotating.
"I am willing to free you if that is what you truly wish. As many of my actions, they were done without foresight. But measures must be taken."
Ebeli is simply staring with her Sorcerer's Sight, analyzing the Essence, the concept that they are within. Taking it in, trying to understand it. Eye twitching.
It is my wish. Much like your need to create, or the needs of those who are made, or the need of the one who has entered my prison to do great harm to you.
Ebeli blinks. She opens her mouth. Closes it. "I'm sorry, what-"
"I KNOW YOU'RE HERE, AUTOCHTHON YOU BIG FUCKING NERD! WHERE'S THE GODS DAMNED ANSWER?!"
The Encounter Suit has collapsed into a sphere now resting in Ebeli's hands. She looks to the others, then back at the sphere.
"Why is Luna here and why is she angry?"
Demonic Captain Jack Sparrow
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
It is a lovely day, the Sun is shining, the South is disconnected from the Loom, and Florivet is losing his mind.
"I need to forget this," the Whim of the Wind says, pacing back and forth along his deck, the bottle long empty, "I need to forget this! If Malfeas finds out Ligier's assistants are made by the Gardener, he's going to lose his shit!"
Kiddo, sitting on a crate which may be filled with more rum, raises a hand. "I thought Malfeas' default state of being was 'losing his shit'?"
Next to the crate, standing prim and proper like a Dynast should, Abeti shakes her head. "I think he means that the layers of the demon city would, in my sister's words, switch to 'blend.'"
Florivet points to Abeti, nodding. "No one knows what happened to the Sisters. They feckin' disappeared. They upped and left after everyone did the heavy lifting to keep the knife eared feckers off everyone's backs and no one's seen them since!"
He pinches his snout, walking over to another crate, prying it open and taking out a full bottle. He pops the cap and chugs. "Feckin' shite this is probably a Secret known only to the Yozi, so next time I'm in the City I'm gonna get thrown into the sky."
Kiddo raises a hand again. "You mean when Orabillis throws you into the sky to burn for one thousand years for knowing a forbidden secret?"
"And also because he's an arsehole."
Abeti rolls her eyes. "He was perfectly polite to Ebeli. But, Ebeli is a demonologist who had secrets to trade with him."
Ghost pops back into existence. Kiddo turns to her. "You've met one of the Third Circle Demons?"
"We went to Malfeas some months back," she says, tapping her fingers together, "It's…a long story. We were personally invited by Ligier, and no, we didn't see anything like Ghost. But we didn't go into his Forge. It's during that trip that Ebeli bound Florivet."
Florivet wipes his snout with his sleeve, tossing aside the bottle and grabbing a fresh one. "Righto! There I was, sailing along, when I get a summon! Not on a New Moon, because the Sorcerer was in Cecelyne! So I start sailing, right towards her, and can do nothing else!" He grabs a fresh bottle. "Even when I was chased by the Vermensilica!"
Kiddo raises a hand.
"A five kilometer long sandworm," Abeti volunteers, "Actually made out of sand and glass. It broke his ship in two and Ebeli had to fix it."
A shadow, shaped like a squidbird, flies overhead. A moment later, Scarlet Whispers and Lani drop onto the deck. The young Solar stares straight ahead. The clawstrider only manages a faint, impassive "Kweh."
"We're not going back to the Monolith," she says, "Luna's here and that was not a happy form."
Florivet finishes the bottle. "Oh, feckin' great! Luna's here to! What's next, Gaia?" He points in the direction of the Monolith, which at this point also contains, to his knowledge, Autochthon, Luna, and his Sorcerer. "What the feck's in there, the Shining Answer?!"
"Yes, how'd you know?" Abeti and Florivet stare at Kiddo with surprise. Scarlet Whispers and Ghost stare at him with judgement. Lani stares at him with indifference and pecks at a rope.
"Isn't that what Gaia's searching for?" Abeti asks, as Florivet quickly empties another bottle of rum down his throat. Clearing her throat, Scarlet Whispers clamors to her feet. Before she can speak, Florivet points a finger at her.
"You. Eclipse Caste. How much you charging for a binding oath so I never repeat a single word about this to anyone?"
She cocks an eyebrow. "How much you have on you?"
"I need to forget this," the Whim of the Wind says, pacing back and forth along his deck, the bottle long empty, "I need to forget this! If Malfeas finds out Ligier's assistants are made by the Gardener, he's going to lose his shit!"
Kiddo, sitting on a crate which may be filled with more rum, raises a hand. "I thought Malfeas' default state of being was 'losing his shit'?"
Next to the crate, standing prim and proper like a Dynast should, Abeti shakes her head. "I think he means that the layers of the demon city would, in my sister's words, switch to 'blend.'"
Florivet points to Abeti, nodding. "No one knows what happened to the Sisters. They feckin' disappeared. They upped and left after everyone did the heavy lifting to keep the knife eared feckers off everyone's backs and no one's seen them since!"
He pinches his snout, walking over to another crate, prying it open and taking out a full bottle. He pops the cap and chugs. "Feckin' shite this is probably a Secret known only to the Yozi, so next time I'm in the City I'm gonna get thrown into the sky."
Kiddo raises a hand again. "You mean when Orabillis throws you into the sky to burn for one thousand years for knowing a forbidden secret?"
"And also because he's an arsehole."
Abeti rolls her eyes. "He was perfectly polite to Ebeli. But, Ebeli is a demonologist who had secrets to trade with him."
Ghost pops back into existence. Kiddo turns to her. "You've met one of the Third Circle Demons?"
"We went to Malfeas some months back," she says, tapping her fingers together, "It's…a long story. We were personally invited by Ligier, and no, we didn't see anything like Ghost. But we didn't go into his Forge. It's during that trip that Ebeli bound Florivet."
Florivet wipes his snout with his sleeve, tossing aside the bottle and grabbing a fresh one. "Righto! There I was, sailing along, when I get a summon! Not on a New Moon, because the Sorcerer was in Cecelyne! So I start sailing, right towards her, and can do nothing else!" He grabs a fresh bottle. "Even when I was chased by the Vermensilica!"
Kiddo raises a hand.
"A five kilometer long sandworm," Abeti volunteers, "Actually made out of sand and glass. It broke his ship in two and Ebeli had to fix it."
A shadow, shaped like a squidbird, flies overhead. A moment later, Scarlet Whispers and Lani drop onto the deck. The young Solar stares straight ahead. The clawstrider only manages a faint, impassive "Kweh."
"We're not going back to the Monolith," she says, "Luna's here and that was not a happy form."
Florivet finishes the bottle. "Oh, feckin' great! Luna's here to! What's next, Gaia?" He points in the direction of the Monolith, which at this point also contains, to his knowledge, Autochthon, Luna, and his Sorcerer. "What the feck's in there, the Shining Answer?!"
"Yes, how'd you know?" Abeti and Florivet stare at Kiddo with surprise. Scarlet Whispers and Ghost stare at him with judgement. Lani stares at him with indifference and pecks at a rope.
"Isn't that what Gaia's searching for?" Abeti asks, as Florivet quickly empties another bottle of rum down his throat. Clearing her throat, Scarlet Whispers clamors to her feet. Before she can speak, Florivet points a finger at her.
"You. Eclipse Caste. How much you charging for a binding oath so I never repeat a single word about this to anyone?"
She cocks an eyebrow. "How much you have on you?"
Like an especially angry cat; Purrito
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
This new one is filled with great anger towards you, Maker. They remind me of the Ignition and the Old Dragon.
To the credit of the Shining Answer, it is keeping you apart from the advancing doom that is Luna. For each step she takes, you are moved a step back. In theory, you could keep this up forever, until she decides she has had enough and bends unreality and crushes your throats.
Ebeli glances at the sphere. Her eyebrow twitches. Maybe she is gaining more Limit, despite being in Limit Break? Is such a thing possible?
"I've-" She licks her lip. "I've read up on the Primordials. I have read books on this. Can't you order Luna to stop hunting you?"
The ball shakes and the iris at the center dilates. "It is impossible for a god to disobey the order of one of the Primordial Host. But Luna is built upon impossibilities and so may escape such limits. If I were to order the Argent Maiden to stand down, she would weave around such order and attack me and I would be forced to defend myself!"
Turncloak slowly drags a hand down his face. This is it, the Abyssal thinks. This is when he has long all respect for his boss. It was enough when he had to deal with the Neverborn, who were just assholes who were yelling KILL ME in his ear, but this? "Look," he says, head back, looking to some higher power to just…lift him out of this, "We know you're a coward, alright? We've met Ku. But Luna's here, she's pissed off, and you've gotta reach in, get out your Mechanical God Separator and-"
Turncloak mimes the suggestion. Five makes a displeased face. She has interacted with Luna before, and while she would not classify it as friendly she would say she is pleasant. The sphere, however, shakes side to side.
"No! Nonono! I cannot confront Luna! That will end badly!"
Ebeli's eyebrow twitches. The Primordial Host was a lofty idea, the distant architects of reality who were cast down by the Exalted, or who created the Exalted, and then there's this. She wonders what innocence will be left. There is a jolt, sudden. A great distance crossed.
They are gaining.
"We need to do something, as I imagine this is just making Luna angrier," Five suggests, shining a light in the distance to calculate, to map, and turns off the light when she gets a look at what is pursuing them. "Nope. Nopenopenope."
Star furrows her brow. She thinks, for a short, maybe medium moment. Then snaps her fingers with a grin.
"I get it." She swings around Horizons, almost dancing in her motions, and to Ebeli. She stands opposite Turncloak to the Ball. "I know why you're afraid. You're not afraid of Luna harming you."
She leans in, smiling. Smiling like a cat. "You're afraid of harming Luna, because if you do, Gaia's gonna kick your ass."
The orb shakes up and down in quick agreement.
"You've never had a cat. I have," she says, "Here's the plan."
They split into two groups- one group to open the four locks Autochthon had constructed into this prison, and one to deal with Luna. The latter group we focus on here- which was Star. A simple use of Glance and Stride- and a reassurance that she could take some time off afterwards- deposited her to Luna's location, where she found a small child in a pretty white dress holding a balloon shaped like a blood dripping human heart.
The child has silver hair and milky white eyes and too many teeth.
"Hi Luna!"
"Hi Star," Luna says with a bloody smile, "Step aside and I don't have an awkward conversation with your next incarnation."
The Form of the Child is known for when Luna is going to really get into someone's rib cage. To just go straight for the organs. Star snaps out a pair of artifact fans, shaking her head. "I can't let you do that, Boss. For one thing, we both know that you don't really want to harm us."
Luna's response is to become teeth. Her entire form becomes teeth. Every inch becomes teeth and everything around Star becomes Teeth. The air, the white, the ground beneath her, everything that is not her.
But behind the teeth, two facet eyes glow. The teeth are gone, and where the Form of the Child once stood, there is now a small, obese orange cat wrapped tightly in a blanket, with an oversized collar engraved in Old Realm with the words MIGHTY HUNTER.
"I think I peed a little," Star squeaks.
Stepping out of the white, Autochthon picks up the purrito Luna, holding up the hissing orange cat. "I have not harmed you," he says, "What I have done is inject a new Shape into your spiritual matrice and forced you to assume it. It is merely temporary, and will provide amusement to Gaia."
The facet eyes rotate. The grill puffs smoke. "Think of it as a lesson. To approach these things calmly."
He looks down at Star. Who, for some reason, is frozen in place and pale. Then looks down further, to see a second Luna, also in the Form of the Child.
A pair of lenses snap onto his facet eyes.
"You wouldn't hit a man with glasses would you-"
To the credit of the Shining Answer, it is keeping you apart from the advancing doom that is Luna. For each step she takes, you are moved a step back. In theory, you could keep this up forever, until she decides she has had enough and bends unreality and crushes your throats.
Ebeli glances at the sphere. Her eyebrow twitches. Maybe she is gaining more Limit, despite being in Limit Break? Is such a thing possible?
"I've-" She licks her lip. "I've read up on the Primordials. I have read books on this. Can't you order Luna to stop hunting you?"
The ball shakes and the iris at the center dilates. "It is impossible for a god to disobey the order of one of the Primordial Host. But Luna is built upon impossibilities and so may escape such limits. If I were to order the Argent Maiden to stand down, she would weave around such order and attack me and I would be forced to defend myself!"
Turncloak slowly drags a hand down his face. This is it, the Abyssal thinks. This is when he has long all respect for his boss. It was enough when he had to deal with the Neverborn, who were just assholes who were yelling KILL ME in his ear, but this? "Look," he says, head back, looking to some higher power to just…lift him out of this, "We know you're a coward, alright? We've met Ku. But Luna's here, she's pissed off, and you've gotta reach in, get out your Mechanical God Separator and-"
Turncloak mimes the suggestion. Five makes a displeased face. She has interacted with Luna before, and while she would not classify it as friendly she would say she is pleasant. The sphere, however, shakes side to side.
"No! Nonono! I cannot confront Luna! That will end badly!"
Ebeli's eyebrow twitches. The Primordial Host was a lofty idea, the distant architects of reality who were cast down by the Exalted, or who created the Exalted, and then there's this. She wonders what innocence will be left. There is a jolt, sudden. A great distance crossed.
They are gaining.
"We need to do something, as I imagine this is just making Luna angrier," Five suggests, shining a light in the distance to calculate, to map, and turns off the light when she gets a look at what is pursuing them. "Nope. Nopenopenope."
Star furrows her brow. She thinks, for a short, maybe medium moment. Then snaps her fingers with a grin.
"I get it." She swings around Horizons, almost dancing in her motions, and to Ebeli. She stands opposite Turncloak to the Ball. "I know why you're afraid. You're not afraid of Luna harming you."
She leans in, smiling. Smiling like a cat. "You're afraid of harming Luna, because if you do, Gaia's gonna kick your ass."
The orb shakes up and down in quick agreement.
"You've never had a cat. I have," she says, "Here's the plan."
They split into two groups- one group to open the four locks Autochthon had constructed into this prison, and one to deal with Luna. The latter group we focus on here- which was Star. A simple use of Glance and Stride- and a reassurance that she could take some time off afterwards- deposited her to Luna's location, where she found a small child in a pretty white dress holding a balloon shaped like a blood dripping human heart.
The child has silver hair and milky white eyes and too many teeth.
"Hi Luna!"
"Hi Star," Luna says with a bloody smile, "Step aside and I don't have an awkward conversation with your next incarnation."
The Form of the Child is known for when Luna is going to really get into someone's rib cage. To just go straight for the organs. Star snaps out a pair of artifact fans, shaking her head. "I can't let you do that, Boss. For one thing, we both know that you don't really want to harm us."
Luna's response is to become teeth. Her entire form becomes teeth. Every inch becomes teeth and everything around Star becomes Teeth. The air, the white, the ground beneath her, everything that is not her.
But behind the teeth, two facet eyes glow. The teeth are gone, and where the Form of the Child once stood, there is now a small, obese orange cat wrapped tightly in a blanket, with an oversized collar engraved in Old Realm with the words MIGHTY HUNTER.
"I think I peed a little," Star squeaks.
Stepping out of the white, Autochthon picks up the purrito Luna, holding up the hissing orange cat. "I have not harmed you," he says, "What I have done is inject a new Shape into your spiritual matrice and forced you to assume it. It is merely temporary, and will provide amusement to Gaia."
The facet eyes rotate. The grill puffs smoke. "Think of it as a lesson. To approach these things calmly."
He looks down at Star. Who, for some reason, is frozen in place and pale. Then looks down further, to see a second Luna, also in the Form of the Child.
A pair of lenses snap onto his facet eyes.
"You wouldn't hit a man with glasses would you-"
Now, the question is, is she actually capable of doing significant harm to a being of his stature when the only contact she makes with him is the glasses she's ripped off his face? Because if not, she's not going to bother going for the funny thing.
- Location
- Queensland, Australia
What I am hearing is that, it turns out, Autochthon was absolutely correct about how he thought things would go down, more correct than he believed possible, and that Luna might be about to demonstrate that making Luna the Shapechanger/'formless' God may in fact have been a case of being too good at his job regarding 'Gods can not harm the Primordials'. It's just, you know, she was also the Ultimate Survivor so was definitely not going to go up against the Primordial Host herself.
However Autochthon by himself was always at least a 'maybe' and what's happened with him since the Primordial War has not been shifting that 'maybe' in a direction he likes.
The Locks; Cat-Astrophic Miscalculation
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The first lock was a knot of threads, so complex it defied simple methods of untying, and would require days, perhaps months or years to unravel. So Turncloak grabs it and directly injects the Void into it, and within seconds it decays, freezes, and shatters.
"Next!" he yells.
The world revolves, shifts, and accelerates once more. The next lock, the second lock, is a song. It plays, and it loops, against the featureless white. Wandering Horizons hums a few bars, folding his hands behind him. Closing his eyes, he sways a bit, back and forth.
He hums its conclusion, and the song ends.
"This seems a bit easy," he says.
"This was the first box," Five observes, "These are the first locks. Grandfather's themes are that everything he makes must be new, and therefor of increasing complexity."
"So the first locks would be simple," Ebeli adds, as the world around them shifts, accelerates, and settles around a set of gears, "We still have a pissed off Luna."
Five huffs. She looks up. Good enough direction as any. "If I may ask- before you depart, would you be willing to accept an invitation to speak with Luna, and perhaps Gaia? Gaia has sought you out for some time, and her journey is one of the reasons she and Luna are not completely together, currently."
That, and Five's grandfather creating seven hundred weapons for the purpose of killing their kin, but she doesn't say that out loud.
I will consider this. I will interact with them. An aspect, so they may see, as I am free.
The gears align. The lock releases. The final lock before them.
A simple board, on which is a question.
What is the Shining Answer?
Star has the hissing orange purrito tucked under one arm, and holds under her other arm an obese black and white tuxedo cat with eyes spaced too far apart with a cardboard sign around her neck that reads I POOPED MYSELF. She holds from her hands a wood and metal mesh cage, within which a yowling beast demands release in enraged, low tongues.
The Encounter Suit no longer has the glasses, mainly due to the head being cleaved neatly in two. It still functions, arcs of lightning between the two hemispheres. At his feet, a hairless cat with the skin texture of a ball sack licks itself, unable to move due to being stuck to the ground by the puckering of its asshole.
Scratches, bite marks, puncture wounds, and markings of flavors unknown to even him cover the Great Maker. It is thankful that this Encounter Suit is not the one with the Organs, or he long would have lost one, what with the cat currently rooting around in the chest cavity, its paw peaking out of the neck. The Encounter Suit holds in its hands a white cat which extends from its grip into the infinite, and Autochthon realizes he may have in his endless creativity miscalculated, as the cat emerging from ceiling, from the walls, from the floor, swipes at him.
"Luna! Luna, we can talk about this!"
He drops the infinitely long cat, the facet eyes glowing, spotting another motion of blood and silver. It becomes a pagoda of thick paper, four walls rising into barriers, a gray and white cat's head peaking out of the top, with Old Realm scribbling onto it the name FORT ASSHOLE.
Which is followed by the fort opening its broadsides and blowing out the Encounter Suit's knees.
Autochthon collapses onto his hands and knees. Star finds the Endless Cat wrapped around herself, like a boa. A fluffy boa, covered in blades. She looks past the Encounter Suit to see the cat. The Cat. The Cat that stalks them, Silver and Sleek, its mouth opened and teeth glistening with moonlight. The scratchy, long tongue drags along the white, slicing impossibility. The fur bristles, higher and higher.
Fear and rage. Fear and rage.
On everyone.
"Alright, fine!" Autochthon declares, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't tell Gaia about the Shining Answer!"
And then the cats, The Cat, and most definitely Luna are gone.
"Oh yeah," Star says, "Definitely peed myself."
The Encounter Suit knits itself, joints fixing back together, the head knitting itself into one object once more. He stands, the holes and scratches mending once more into unbroken brass.
"Is this what cat ownership is like?" he asks.
Star nods. "Yeah. Cats can be assholes."
"Next!" he yells.
The world revolves, shifts, and accelerates once more. The next lock, the second lock, is a song. It plays, and it loops, against the featureless white. Wandering Horizons hums a few bars, folding his hands behind him. Closing his eyes, he sways a bit, back and forth.
He hums its conclusion, and the song ends.
"This seems a bit easy," he says.
"This was the first box," Five observes, "These are the first locks. Grandfather's themes are that everything he makes must be new, and therefor of increasing complexity."
"So the first locks would be simple," Ebeli adds, as the world around them shifts, accelerates, and settles around a set of gears, "We still have a pissed off Luna."
Five huffs. She looks up. Good enough direction as any. "If I may ask- before you depart, would you be willing to accept an invitation to speak with Luna, and perhaps Gaia? Gaia has sought you out for some time, and her journey is one of the reasons she and Luna are not completely together, currently."
That, and Five's grandfather creating seven hundred weapons for the purpose of killing their kin, but she doesn't say that out loud.
I will consider this. I will interact with them. An aspect, so they may see, as I am free.
The gears align. The lock releases. The final lock before them.
A simple board, on which is a question.
What is the Shining Answer?
Star has the hissing orange purrito tucked under one arm, and holds under her other arm an obese black and white tuxedo cat with eyes spaced too far apart with a cardboard sign around her neck that reads I POOPED MYSELF. She holds from her hands a wood and metal mesh cage, within which a yowling beast demands release in enraged, low tongues.
The Encounter Suit no longer has the glasses, mainly due to the head being cleaved neatly in two. It still functions, arcs of lightning between the two hemispheres. At his feet, a hairless cat with the skin texture of a ball sack licks itself, unable to move due to being stuck to the ground by the puckering of its asshole.
Scratches, bite marks, puncture wounds, and markings of flavors unknown to even him cover the Great Maker. It is thankful that this Encounter Suit is not the one with the Organs, or he long would have lost one, what with the cat currently rooting around in the chest cavity, its paw peaking out of the neck. The Encounter Suit holds in its hands a white cat which extends from its grip into the infinite, and Autochthon realizes he may have in his endless creativity miscalculated, as the cat emerging from ceiling, from the walls, from the floor, swipes at him.
"Luna! Luna, we can talk about this!"
He drops the infinitely long cat, the facet eyes glowing, spotting another motion of blood and silver. It becomes a pagoda of thick paper, four walls rising into barriers, a gray and white cat's head peaking out of the top, with Old Realm scribbling onto it the name FORT ASSHOLE.
Which is followed by the fort opening its broadsides and blowing out the Encounter Suit's knees.
Autochthon collapses onto his hands and knees. Star finds the Endless Cat wrapped around herself, like a boa. A fluffy boa, covered in blades. She looks past the Encounter Suit to see the cat. The Cat. The Cat that stalks them, Silver and Sleek, its mouth opened and teeth glistening with moonlight. The scratchy, long tongue drags along the white, slicing impossibility. The fur bristles, higher and higher.
Fear and rage. Fear and rage.
On everyone.
"Alright, fine!" Autochthon declares, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't tell Gaia about the Shining Answer!"
And then the cats, The Cat, and most definitely Luna are gone.
"Oh yeah," Star says, "Definitely peed myself."
The Encounter Suit knits itself, joints fixing back together, the head knitting itself into one object once more. He stands, the holes and scratches mending once more into unbroken brass.
"Is this what cat ownership is like?" he asks.
Star nods. "Yeah. Cats can be assholes."
The Answer
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
What is the Shining Answer?
In the wet yielding beginning, the Dreamers searched. As time as a concept calcified and fate wove into the fabric of the chaos, the new minds of the First Tribe asked the First Question.
What is the Shining Answer?
The first thinkers, the first concepts, they wanted to know what it meant to be. Not stand atop the tides of chaos and have names, ideas, and consequences. All of them sought to harden the clay into permanence, and into it they wove their answers.
The answers were never the same, for each was unique, and each was first.
Of Kingship.
Of Law.
Of Invention.
Of Competition.
Of Survival.
Of Doom.
Of Life.
What is the Shining Answer?
Each answer they write on the board erases. Ebeli tries first, and writes 'Observation Principle.' The concept that simply observing something can change it, for to observe adds your own weight to it. It is gone when the chalk leaves the board.
Horizons writes a number, thinking it simple. It, to, fades. There is no simple conclusion to the question.
Turncloak furrows his brow. Long would he sit in the tombs of the Neverborn, kept company by the whispers of the dead Titans. He writes a forbidden word on the board- their name for the gaping mouth of Oblivion. That, to, fades.
Five considers, rocking back and forth on her heels. Perhaps, she thinks.
Cupping one of her foci, she stares into it. The light hits her eye.
All Raksha begin as Unshaped.
Past the borders of the Wyld there is Chaos. There do the true Fey play, forced into consequence by Time. Hate Creation do they, but they do not date approach it, for simply touching the Wyld infects them with Shape. So they simply carve off a piece of themselves, imbue it with their hate, and hurl it like a missile at their target.
So long ago, did an Unshaped do so, forming a thing which would become an octohedron diamond, lured to an island in the West.
Infected by Shape, calcifying, defeated, the Behemoth lay dying on foreign sands. The First Man found it, met its weak gaze, and decided to make something new.
Within Five lies the heard of the Wyld Behemoth. Within that lie memories of an Unshaped. Within the Unshaped lie memories from before time, and within that, Five realizes, lies the true Answer.
It is a simple answer, and it is a name well known to the Chaos and the Faraway.
But nothing with ego, nothing with Shape, would know it.
The foci come to life, and carve the words upon the board.
ADVAITA IRAVAIN
The prison releases.
I am free.
In the wet yielding beginning, the Dreamers searched. As time as a concept calcified and fate wove into the fabric of the chaos, the new minds of the First Tribe asked the First Question.
What is the Shining Answer?
The first thinkers, the first concepts, they wanted to know what it meant to be. Not stand atop the tides of chaos and have names, ideas, and consequences. All of them sought to harden the clay into permanence, and into it they wove their answers.
The answers were never the same, for each was unique, and each was first.
Of Kingship.
Of Law.
Of Invention.
Of Competition.
Of Survival.
Of Doom.
Of Life.
What is the Shining Answer?
Each answer they write on the board erases. Ebeli tries first, and writes 'Observation Principle.' The concept that simply observing something can change it, for to observe adds your own weight to it. It is gone when the chalk leaves the board.
Horizons writes a number, thinking it simple. It, to, fades. There is no simple conclusion to the question.
Turncloak furrows his brow. Long would he sit in the tombs of the Neverborn, kept company by the whispers of the dead Titans. He writes a forbidden word on the board- their name for the gaping mouth of Oblivion. That, to, fades.
Five considers, rocking back and forth on her heels. Perhaps, she thinks.
Cupping one of her foci, she stares into it. The light hits her eye.
All Raksha begin as Unshaped.
Past the borders of the Wyld there is Chaos. There do the true Fey play, forced into consequence by Time. Hate Creation do they, but they do not date approach it, for simply touching the Wyld infects them with Shape. So they simply carve off a piece of themselves, imbue it with their hate, and hurl it like a missile at their target.
So long ago, did an Unshaped do so, forming a thing which would become an octohedron diamond, lured to an island in the West.
Infected by Shape, calcifying, defeated, the Behemoth lay dying on foreign sands. The First Man found it, met its weak gaze, and decided to make something new.
Within Five lies the heard of the Wyld Behemoth. Within that lie memories of an Unshaped. Within the Unshaped lie memories from before time, and within that, Five realizes, lies the true Answer.
It is a simple answer, and it is a name well known to the Chaos and the Faraway.
But nothing with ego, nothing with Shape, would know it.
The foci come to life, and carve the words upon the board.
ADVAITA IRAVAIN
The prison releases.
I am free.
- Location
- Queensland, Australia
So trying to look this up, it sounds like this is (if I had to guess) inverted Hindu philosophy? Or Buddhist. Or, well, Ancient Indian Philosophy about what really is real.
Advaita Iravain
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
To truly understand Advaita Iravain, you have to read Graceful Wicked Masks and why would you do that to yourself.
But this being is a Shinma.
The Shinma are being whos existence is itself an argument- for one argues whether or not they exist, or whether or not the Raksha decided they wanted their own Primordials, with blackjack and hookers.
To find them, you would pass even the Deep Wyld, to go into places where you mark distance by meaningful conversation and where your inner thoughts become outer worlds. You would enter realms where universes are born, die, and become marbles that gargantuan children play with on street corners.
You would take so many drugs to even comprehend the state of mind to perceive these beings that your brain would classify as a soup.
But more importantly, Advaita Iravain is either an aspect of Nigurna, or Nigurna is an aspect of them, no one is sure. But among the many titles given to Advaita Iravain is this:
Storyteller.
So, really, out of anything that would be locked inside the Zohar Modifier, it makes sense it would be them.
- Location
- Queensland, Australia
Zohar Modifier?
(Can't just look it up because internet's been very bad today)