- Location
- none of your business
And now we've got Chocobos
To the Letter, Or, The Sidereals Deal with an Outside of Context Problem (Exalted/Destiny)
- Thread starter GreggHL
- Start date
- Crossover
Not Ominous; Not Ominous at All
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The coffee bars began sprouting up months ago. No one truly understood why, or actually connected them with the return of the Great Maker, for such a thing would be acknowledging his return. For the return of the Great Maker is still a secret, and such a secret keeps Heaven from erupting into base panic. Rather, the coffee bars are considered fortitous coincidence, emerging in areas of Yu Shan that were considered undesirable.
The god smiles, wearing their apron, standing by the tray to receive the coins for payment. Their compatriot, also smiling, stands by the brass and steam machine, working the levers with practiced, serene precision to pour the coffee into the paper cup. The Chosen- the Abyssal, tethered once to the Neverborn, now to the Great Maker, tosses a golden coin into the bowl and takes his coffee.
"Have a nice day," the god says with a smile.
He grunts, walking out to whatever task he must do. The gods at the tables, the lions on break, the visiting Sidereals do their work and chat and gossip, but they do not pay attention at all.
All is well and calm, and the gods behind the counter wait for their next order, content.
Mirrors shatter, silver boils, and the shadowland gives way to the Underworld. Ixion passes over, the Unsun passing time with its screams, and Turncloak idly rolls the copper coin between his fingers. He has not come alone.
"I appreciate you doing this with me."
Wandering Horizons shrugs, at first saying nothing. Then sighing, trying to find the words, failing, and then offering an almost rote, "It's what friends do."
"What did you get out of by doing this?"
"Committee meeting. Only three people involved, so I wasn't needed, but they were going to rope me in. But besides which, I'm kind of curious what that can do."
Horizons gestures to their other companion. The spherical, symmetrical, blubous belch of the Void looks back at them and offers an observational, "Poyo!"
Behind them, skeletal horses, on fire, ride off of a cliff. Which is also on fire.
"So we're tracking down your wife's ghost," Horizons says, "Any idea where she is?"
"I stowed her away near the shadowlands where we used live. Highly traumatic." Turncloak sips his coffee and starts walking. "Keep up. We're taking a shortcut through the Labyrinth."
The Thing That Is bounces alongside the Abyssal. Horizons sighs, watches the Nephrack with the skinless smile and burning books forming a halo around its head wave at him, and decides to follow his co-worker.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Lani is a wonderful mount, and he has an excellent temperament because Five has at best 1 dot in Ride so she cannot actually control him.
So it's not a cursed plan
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
On the top of her manse, lying on her sun chair, holding her mirror, in a bikini, Star sunbathes.
She's on a break.
A very desperately needed break. Especially after all that crap with Rioghad. Thank the Gods it's over. She's got drinks with May Blossom tonight, mainly so she can listen to the Secrets have a breakdown into her cups about all the shit she had to deal with keeping that place from collapsing.
"Hey. Hey, Star."
Of course, she has earned this vacation. It's late in the afternoon. She's sent Kiddo off on his 'date', her partner's off in the Underworld.
"Hi Star are you busy?"
Five's on enforced Vacation because she fist-fought an Infernal and for some reason her Grandfather didn't create another seven hundred unstoppable superweapons like the last time his relatives fucked up someone he cared about.
"Star really sorry to interrupt-"
Snapping the mirror shut, Star glances to the side and stares at Ghost, floating next to her chair. "Hey. What's up. How can I help you." No inflection. No lilt or joy. Five baby seals survive this day.
"Do you know how to get to Hell?"
Star blinks. Putting the mirror aside, she sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the chair. "That's awfully specific directions. I was figuring we'd wait for everyone to get back before we ganged up on Seeker and went Back-Alley-Nexus on him. Or is this something else?"
Ghost's plates rotate. That sort of nervous twitch the ball has. "No. Not that. See, When we were dealing with the whole thing in the South, I found out from Florivet that apparently, Ligier uses Ghosts as assistants in his Forge."
Star blinks again. "Run that by me again. Ghosts, as in, naked Exaltations like you, and not creepy fettered spirits that Turncloak's not allowed to bring into Heaven?"
"That's correct."
Star taps her fingers on her thigh. "Okay. I've got an idea on how to verify this. Do you remember my boyfriend?"
Ghost bobs up and down.
"Let's ask him if he can, you know, borrow one of those Ghosts from Ligier's forge. In and out. Ten days. Right?"
Ghosts bobs up and down faster. Star smiles. She doesn't even have to leave the manse. And it's just one Sidereal making the plan.
So it's not a bad plan.
Right?
She's on a break.
A very desperately needed break. Especially after all that crap with Rioghad. Thank the Gods it's over. She's got drinks with May Blossom tonight, mainly so she can listen to the Secrets have a breakdown into her cups about all the shit she had to deal with keeping that place from collapsing.
"Hey. Hey, Star."
Of course, she has earned this vacation. It's late in the afternoon. She's sent Kiddo off on his 'date', her partner's off in the Underworld.
"Hi Star are you busy?"
Five's on enforced Vacation because she fist-fought an Infernal and for some reason her Grandfather didn't create another seven hundred unstoppable superweapons like the last time his relatives fucked up someone he cared about.
"Star really sorry to interrupt-"
Snapping the mirror shut, Star glances to the side and stares at Ghost, floating next to her chair. "Hey. What's up. How can I help you." No inflection. No lilt or joy. Five baby seals survive this day.
"Do you know how to get to Hell?"
Star blinks. Putting the mirror aside, she sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the chair. "That's awfully specific directions. I was figuring we'd wait for everyone to get back before we ganged up on Seeker and went Back-Alley-Nexus on him. Or is this something else?"
Ghost's plates rotate. That sort of nervous twitch the ball has. "No. Not that. See, When we were dealing with the whole thing in the South, I found out from Florivet that apparently, Ligier uses Ghosts as assistants in his Forge."
Star blinks again. "Run that by me again. Ghosts, as in, naked Exaltations like you, and not creepy fettered spirits that Turncloak's not allowed to bring into Heaven?"
"That's correct."
Star taps her fingers on her thigh. "Okay. I've got an idea on how to verify this. Do you remember my boyfriend?"
Ghost bobs up and down.
"Let's ask him if he can, you know, borrow one of those Ghosts from Ligier's forge. In and out. Ten days. Right?"
Ghosts bobs up and down faster. Star smiles. She doesn't even have to leave the manse. And it's just one Sidereal making the plan.
So it's not a bad plan.
Right?
- Location
- none of your business
While I haven't read Shotgun Princess for a while, I remember there being a explanation about how even one Sidereal planning something has a chance to go wrong
The Trial of Yekkido Reigo
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Deep beneath the pyramid, between the levels Sacred and Profane, lay the Vat Complexes that the daughters of the Clay Man rely on for maintenance, as well as the domeciles they live in. It is due to the odd, perversive nature of the Wyld that ideas bleed in, far beyond the ken of Creation. That no sane, intact mind would hold. Even safeguarded as they are, such perversions, such whispers, made it into the Alchemical Matrices of these Champions.
Hence the name of this place:
The Chamber of Ree.
The Courtroom was not here when Five last visited this part of the fortress. She wonders if they built it in anticipation of needing to try her for her bad decisions. She sits at the table, still in the Chair from the Floor. Next to her is Shou, in his dress uniform- deep navy blues with a high collar and hip skirt, designed by Zyuu.
Her sister has an eye for fashion. A very good eye.
On the high judge's bench above them are her sisters- the eldest, Ni, at the center. Flanking her are the others- to her left is Hatchi and Iti. On her right is Kei and Zyuu, all in their dress uniforms. Just, because they were designed by Zyuu, they are also maid uniforms. Above them, in shadows, Siyon waits. Watching. Handing out pens.
"We call this Council of Nii to order," Ni declares, banging her gavel, "Yekkido Reigo, you are called forth on charges of being a dumbass."
Her sisters speak their agreement. Zyuu gives hers in the form of a honk. Five pouts, arms folded. She does not believe she is a dumbass. She had no choice in the matter.
"Council," Shou says, clearing his throat, "As Yekkido Reigo's defense, she and I have consulted regarding the incident in question and would like to present new evidence. Siyon, if you would?"
From the shadows above, Siyon hands out hardened clay tablets.
"In the incident in question, Yekkido Reigo did not engage the Seeker of Power by her own accord. Rather, the Seeker was ordered to attack her by Suntarankal. She was defending herself until either Turncloak could fight off Suntarankal, or until other help could arrive. I hereby motion that the charges of being a dumbass be struck from the record."
The six sisters retreat into shadow. There is hushed whispering, and in the case of Zyuu, hushed honking. After long, tense moments, they resume their seats.
"This Council of NIi hereby strikes the charges of being a dumbass from record. Additionally, we hereby remove the Status of Special Friend from Lytek-"
On the right wall, a picture of Lytek's patronizing face is removed from a frame.
"And grant Seeker of Power and Suntarankal the Status of Special Friends."
Two framed pictures of the demon and the Infernal are hung on the wall. Not flattering pictures, either.
Hatchi raises a hand. Like all of them, she has the same slightly clay like texture of her skin, though unlike Ni, her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. "I would like to add the charge of Yekkido Reigo being untrained and hence move that she be subject to intense martial arts training."
"Hatchi it doesn't work like that for us."
"Kreonk."
"Very good point, Siyon. I move to have Yekkido Reigo be given Martial Arts training as part of her next visit to the Vats!"
More muffled speaking and honking. Ni taps the gavel.
"Approved. Yekkido Reigo, this Council of Nii finds you innocent of the charge of being a dumbass by reason of the other guy being a bag of dicks. As such, we remand you to the care of Yekkido Shou and Yekkido Lani while we keep Doctor Igaka from hotwiring Shou's strider and marching off to Malfeas to stomp the Seeker's ass."
Her sisters retreat into the shadows. Shou blinks and both he and Five offer a short, flat,
"What."
Lani, who wanders into the room, offers a "Kweh."
Hence the name of this place:
The Chamber of Ree.
The Courtroom was not here when Five last visited this part of the fortress. She wonders if they built it in anticipation of needing to try her for her bad decisions. She sits at the table, still in the Chair from the Floor. Next to her is Shou, in his dress uniform- deep navy blues with a high collar and hip skirt, designed by Zyuu.
Her sister has an eye for fashion. A very good eye.
On the high judge's bench above them are her sisters- the eldest, Ni, at the center. Flanking her are the others- to her left is Hatchi and Iti. On her right is Kei and Zyuu, all in their dress uniforms. Just, because they were designed by Zyuu, they are also maid uniforms. Above them, in shadows, Siyon waits. Watching. Handing out pens.
"We call this Council of Nii to order," Ni declares, banging her gavel, "Yekkido Reigo, you are called forth on charges of being a dumbass."
Her sisters speak their agreement. Zyuu gives hers in the form of a honk. Five pouts, arms folded. She does not believe she is a dumbass. She had no choice in the matter.
"Council," Shou says, clearing his throat, "As Yekkido Reigo's defense, she and I have consulted regarding the incident in question and would like to present new evidence. Siyon, if you would?"
From the shadows above, Siyon hands out hardened clay tablets.
"In the incident in question, Yekkido Reigo did not engage the Seeker of Power by her own accord. Rather, the Seeker was ordered to attack her by Suntarankal. She was defending herself until either Turncloak could fight off Suntarankal, or until other help could arrive. I hereby motion that the charges of being a dumbass be struck from the record."
The six sisters retreat into shadow. There is hushed whispering, and in the case of Zyuu, hushed honking. After long, tense moments, they resume their seats.
"This Council of NIi hereby strikes the charges of being a dumbass from record. Additionally, we hereby remove the Status of Special Friend from Lytek-"
On the right wall, a picture of Lytek's patronizing face is removed from a frame.
"And grant Seeker of Power and Suntarankal the Status of Special Friends."
Two framed pictures of the demon and the Infernal are hung on the wall. Not flattering pictures, either.
Hatchi raises a hand. Like all of them, she has the same slightly clay like texture of her skin, though unlike Ni, her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. "I would like to add the charge of Yekkido Reigo being untrained and hence move that she be subject to intense martial arts training."
"Hatchi it doesn't work like that for us."
"Kreonk."
"Very good point, Siyon. I move to have Yekkido Reigo be given Martial Arts training as part of her next visit to the Vats!"
More muffled speaking and honking. Ni taps the gavel.
"Approved. Yekkido Reigo, this Council of Nii finds you innocent of the charge of being a dumbass by reason of the other guy being a bag of dicks. As such, we remand you to the care of Yekkido Shou and Yekkido Lani while we keep Doctor Igaka from hotwiring Shou's strider and marching off to Malfeas to stomp the Seeker's ass."
Her sisters retreat into the shadows. Shou blinks and both he and Five offer a short, flat,
"What."
Lani, who wanders into the room, offers a "Kweh."
paradoxdragon
Immersed in Dreams
- Location
- Someplace or another
I must ask. Is this a form of…space clown court??
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The Council of Nii, as Five's sisters call themselves when judging Reigo for her crimes (being too moe, being a dumbass, having too much laserface) are licensed as a court of law by the supreme arbiter of Il-Yeddo.
That said arbiter is their father, who does this because he finds it hilarious, has nothing to do with it.
As for the Honking, that is because Zyuu, in the source material, spoke French badly and suggestively.
However, Creation has no France and hence no French. Hence, she speaks High Holy Speech, and is speaking suggestive Velociraptor.
SV5195R
C-Weapon
- Location
- Russian Federation
... so, it appears that Five is the most serious sister of the bunch.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
As she repeatedly insists, yes. Kei will also insist she is the most serious sister. She is occasionally brought up for crimes, as well.
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The Date; There's a Shortcut
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The God of Making Dramatic Pronunciations announces that he is being lowered slowly into the Clawstrider Enclosure, narrating the half dozen very pointy beasts that are currently surrounding him before they go for the jugular. Kiddo didn't see any silver on them, so he's pretty sure Lunar isn't here. The Clawstriders were just annoyed with him.
Leaning against the railing at the most romantic date spot in Yu Shan, he waits. The sky is blood red, and the Emerald Mother is ahead in the games, providing a nice, crimson glow.
"And here we are." He turns at the sound of Noedumari's voice. She's in a pale blue dress and red long coat over that, her hair long down her back and with earrings of some sort of free-floating, hyperdimensional storage floating over her shoulders. She also looks happy. Tired, but happy.
"Late day at the job?"
"It's always late," she says, stretching her arms above her head, "It's great, I love it, but I have so much to do. It's great I have the help I have, though."
A god in a clawstrider costume walks over. Kiddo holds up two fingers, and the god walks them over, sitting them beneath and overhand where fruits illuminate the table for them.
She leans on the table, propped on her elbows, resting her chin on her tented hands as she smiles, exhausted. "So no Ghost?"
"He's hanging out with Star. Said he wanted to do some research. After the last mission, we all needed some time off. So your job's doing good?"
"I thought it was going to be overwhelming, but I ended up having this refugee situation. Aliens from this…absolute shithole of a reality that found themselves in the Storage and they were happy to help out with organizing everything in return for a place to stay."
Leaning back in his chair, Kiddo nods, smiling. The atmosphere here is nice. It is quiet, calm. Star recommended the place. The soft narration of the god in the enclosure as the Clawstriders pull at his fingers.
"So, they just like working?"
She nods, as the waiter comes by with a bottle of wine and pours their cups. "They've even got this system where they take requests and sort of time-loop themselves so they get things to me almost instantly. It's amazing."
He nods, grinning. Relaxed. So very, very relaxed.
"Noedumari." A very, very stern voice says. They turn to see six golden lions, each as tall as a man to the shoulder, surrounding their table. "We're here about some irregularities regarding your taxes."
Noedumari blinks. She quickly downs her wine.
"Door!"
The white space opens beneath the table, and she, Kiddo, and the table drop in.
"It's been three days. Shouldn't we be worried about Kiddo?"
Floating alongside Star, Ghost narrows the plates around their eye as Star snorts. "He's a Dragonblooded. Well, his body is one. They can go a few days before coming up for air."
They walk through the hall of her manse- which she has yet to leave for the last three days since their downtime began- at a leasurely pace. She is wearing a blue toga and backless sandals, holding a coffee mug labeled BEST BLUEBERRY and with rollers still in her hair. She has not brushed her teeth in two days.
The scent of her drink is of freshly spiced pumpkins, and she allows herself the bliss of time off. "We've still got another, what, week until Little Beam gets back, so we can really just relaaaaaax."
They pass the main sitting room in the Manse, where a young man with red hair, somewhat smudged with some green and black, holding a brass spear and sipping a drink is sitting on her couch. His tunic and baggy pants have seen better days. A duffle made out of some sort of leather is next to him, also on the couch, and is big enough to hold a full sized man. Or corpse.
Star stops mid-step.
"Hey babe," she says, "Haven't left for Hell yet?"
"Just got back," Little Beam responds.
Star blinks. She blinks again. Turning, sipping her drink, she walks into her sitting room and sits down on her very fluffy blue easy chair. "Babe, it takes five days each way."
"Only takes one day if you use the Labyrinth."
Star immediately begins disassociating. Her eyes glaze over and she grips the coffee cup for dear life. Twenty three baby seals are immediately spared. Those who could hear her thoughts would simply hear air sirens, like everyone inside the Core when they explained Infernals to Autochthon.
"What's that in your hand?" Ghost asks.
"It's a smoothie."
"No, the other thing."
"Oh, that's Gervesin, the Grieving Lord, Second Circle Soul of Ligier." Little Beam sips his drink.
Ghost stares at him for long moments. The plates rotate once. Twice. Thrice. "So, the Labyrinth? You can just…use it?"
"Had to convince a Nephrack to guide me, but once I did, it just took a day for us to go through, and we exited in the spot most attuned to decay, death, and the Void in Malfeas."
Two days ago.
The Shadow passes over the inner layers of the Demon City, casting itself over the light of the Green Sun. In his passing, there is silence, save for the music of the Reverie.
That, and the sudden cheer, as Little Beam emerges, feet first, from the Ebon Dragon's cloaca.
"Ha. Nice."
Leaning against the railing at the most romantic date spot in Yu Shan, he waits. The sky is blood red, and the Emerald Mother is ahead in the games, providing a nice, crimson glow.
"And here we are." He turns at the sound of Noedumari's voice. She's in a pale blue dress and red long coat over that, her hair long down her back and with earrings of some sort of free-floating, hyperdimensional storage floating over her shoulders. She also looks happy. Tired, but happy.
"Late day at the job?"
"It's always late," she says, stretching her arms above her head, "It's great, I love it, but I have so much to do. It's great I have the help I have, though."
A god in a clawstrider costume walks over. Kiddo holds up two fingers, and the god walks them over, sitting them beneath and overhand where fruits illuminate the table for them.
She leans on the table, propped on her elbows, resting her chin on her tented hands as she smiles, exhausted. "So no Ghost?"
"He's hanging out with Star. Said he wanted to do some research. After the last mission, we all needed some time off. So your job's doing good?"
"I thought it was going to be overwhelming, but I ended up having this refugee situation. Aliens from this…absolute shithole of a reality that found themselves in the Storage and they were happy to help out with organizing everything in return for a place to stay."
Leaning back in his chair, Kiddo nods, smiling. The atmosphere here is nice. It is quiet, calm. Star recommended the place. The soft narration of the god in the enclosure as the Clawstriders pull at his fingers.
"So, they just like working?"
She nods, as the waiter comes by with a bottle of wine and pours their cups. "They've even got this system where they take requests and sort of time-loop themselves so they get things to me almost instantly. It's amazing."
He nods, grinning. Relaxed. So very, very relaxed.
"Noedumari." A very, very stern voice says. They turn to see six golden lions, each as tall as a man to the shoulder, surrounding their table. "We're here about some irregularities regarding your taxes."
Noedumari blinks. She quickly downs her wine.
"Door!"
The white space opens beneath the table, and she, Kiddo, and the table drop in.
"It's been three days. Shouldn't we be worried about Kiddo?"
Floating alongside Star, Ghost narrows the plates around their eye as Star snorts. "He's a Dragonblooded. Well, his body is one. They can go a few days before coming up for air."
They walk through the hall of her manse- which she has yet to leave for the last three days since their downtime began- at a leasurely pace. She is wearing a blue toga and backless sandals, holding a coffee mug labeled BEST BLUEBERRY and with rollers still in her hair. She has not brushed her teeth in two days.
The scent of her drink is of freshly spiced pumpkins, and she allows herself the bliss of time off. "We've still got another, what, week until Little Beam gets back, so we can really just relaaaaaax."
They pass the main sitting room in the Manse, where a young man with red hair, somewhat smudged with some green and black, holding a brass spear and sipping a drink is sitting on her couch. His tunic and baggy pants have seen better days. A duffle made out of some sort of leather is next to him, also on the couch, and is big enough to hold a full sized man. Or corpse.
Star stops mid-step.
"Hey babe," she says, "Haven't left for Hell yet?"
"Just got back," Little Beam responds.
Star blinks. She blinks again. Turning, sipping her drink, she walks into her sitting room and sits down on her very fluffy blue easy chair. "Babe, it takes five days each way."
"Only takes one day if you use the Labyrinth."
Star immediately begins disassociating. Her eyes glaze over and she grips the coffee cup for dear life. Twenty three baby seals are immediately spared. Those who could hear her thoughts would simply hear air sirens, like everyone inside the Core when they explained Infernals to Autochthon.
"What's that in your hand?" Ghost asks.
"It's a smoothie."
"No, the other thing."
"Oh, that's Gervesin, the Grieving Lord, Second Circle Soul of Ligier." Little Beam sips his drink.
Ghost stares at him for long moments. The plates rotate once. Twice. Thrice. "So, the Labyrinth? You can just…use it?"
"Had to convince a Nephrack to guide me, but once I did, it just took a day for us to go through, and we exited in the spot most attuned to decay, death, and the Void in Malfeas."
Two days ago.
The Shadow passes over the inner layers of the Demon City, casting itself over the light of the Green Sun. In his passing, there is silence, save for the music of the Reverie.
That, and the sudden cheer, as Little Beam emerges, feet first, from the Ebon Dragon's cloaca.
"Ha. Nice."
- Location
- none of your business
Ahhkay, in the last bunch of updates this has turned from a Exalted and Destiny Fusion to a combo with Kirby, Final Fantasy with the Clawstrider Chocobo, and now technically with NGE through one of your best Fanfics. At this point, It would not surprise me if eventually we're gonna have to make it specific if someone says Autobot and end up having to clarify if we're taling about Autocthon or the Faction.........Been a fan of Transformers since I was 4 and my room's filled with them
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GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Technically Autochthon is less Cybertron and more Unicron, what with that incident where he ate the planet of that Primordial Era race that tried to enslave him with technology.
So many Flashbacks
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Star disassociates harder. We are now up to thirty-five baby seals who shall live to see the morrow. The Bureau of Nature hangs up a plaque in honor of her.
"Okay," Ghost appears, hovering closer to Little Beam than Star, for the Light can do little to ease that sort of pain, "So you then infiltrated Ligier's forge? Successfully?"
Little Beam sips his smoothie.
"Oh, I was caught almost immediately. Tied up in iron chains- which are more the metaphorical concept of iron and actually unbreakable- and slowly lowered into his Green Sun forge because from Ligier's perspective this was the closest he would ever get to slowly lowering my father into his Forge. It was really slow, too."
Ghost bobs up and down. "Okay. Okay. How did you get out?"
Little Beam takes a long sip of his smoothie. "So you have to promise to not get mad."
"I often would dream of the day that your father, arms broken, virtues cast down, and knelt before me, would be in this position. But you, his child most like him, will have to do."
The brass constructs slowly turn the cranks- very slowly- the chains clinking every inch as they lower the chained up Little Beam towards the burning Green Sun beneath. He can't help but notice the railings. Apparently Ligier takes workplace safety very seriously.
He could try to fight his way out of this.
He glances around, eyes darting to side.
Ligier, in all his magnificence, sits on the hastily assembled brass throne overlooking the Forge, holding a chalice filled with either wine or pureed demon.
"So you need to promise not to tell Malfeas, but guess who's back!"
Star's drink tips back and forth on the table. Both her hands cup Little Beam's cheeks. Forty seals. "You told Ligier that Autochthon's back?!"
To be a Joybringer is to regulate the amount of Joy in Creation. In the case of this incident, Star does her job by her simple existence. Her hands smoosh the face of her boyfriend, of the most acknowledged and begotten of the 1307 currently living children of the Unconquered Sun. He makes puppy dog eyes but does not manage as a Lunar would, and only invokes sympathy rather than maternal feelings.
Which does not prevent him from calling her Mommy.
"I was being lowered into the Forge!" he manages, "I had to think of something!"
He lets go of the spear, which floats ominously. It sings the song of dead lovers and wars long past. Star gives it a look and it quiets down. Hands on her hips, she stands her full height, staring down at her boyfriend. Lover. Future husband. Problem solver. Their relationship is a good one, she thinks. She knows him well.
He has a good heart, all in all. Like a golden retriever, but less motivated by food, and more by fun. Possibly by violence.
"The fact that Ligier is not sieging the Primal Forge- outside of it taking him five days to get here- means he's not angry?"
Little Beam visibly relaxes. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he rests his head on the back of the couch. Were this nod a Celestial Manse, it would smudge. But one of the first magicks that Star had installed were ones that meant she never had to clean on her days off.
"Ligier likes Autochthon. Will not work with him unless he apparently brings back his dead Queen, but likes him. So he was happy. Killed all the servitors in the room to keep it a secret, then we sat down and talked."
Ghost's plates rotate, seeing where this is going. "Damn it not another flashback-"
The First Among Equals, Lord of the Inner Layers, and Green Sun, is a striking and handsome figure. Like his father, if you replaced the stick up his ass with something that had more give to it. He brought out a breed of demon that had been engineered to resemble an immense sloth, allowed Little Beam to select the cuts, and then cooked it alive. The pain added flavor, and the flavor was exqusite.
"Then my assistants are creations of the Gardener?" Ligier asks, "Interesting. I have never destructively analyzed them, for such a thing is impolite and not becoming of a noble Prince, you see."
Little Beam nods, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin, which is also a breed of demon. "Of course. What would the Yozi think, though?"
Overlooking the balcony on which they eat, constructs of brass lower a dozen singing Raksha into the Green Sun. "It would depend on how the information is disseminated. The Sisters left Creation before the War. From the perspective of Malfeas, they are his subjects, but did not betray him. It would depend on which side they would fall on when and if they return. Or who they would side with, now."
Ligier leans back in his chair, which is twice the height of Little Beam's own, and tents the fingers of two of his hands. "Nephew, I have something to give to you, to take back into Creation."
Ghost bobs up and down. Star paces back and forth, guzzling her drink. "So that's why he gave you the spear?" she asks.
"No, actually-"
The Green Sun hands the Son of the Sun the Spear. Over his shoulder, Little Beam tightens the straps of the duffle, holding it tight to his back.
"This is Gervesin, one of my component souls," Ligier says, "A gift for you. In time he may drive you mad and make your will his own."
Little Beam takes the Spear with both hands, smiling widely. "You're the best uncle ever."
He kicks off, leaping off the front steps to the workshop, riding the summoned cloud into the sky, and rides it with force directly into the backside of the passing Ebon Dragon.
"Oh my! Buy me dinner first~"
"Is that the last flashback? Please tell me that's the last flashback?" Ghost sighs, dramatically, rotating plates as they float in circles around the table. "So the spear's just…a creepy demon spear that may possess you. That's not bad at all. Nope nope nope not at all!"
Star shrugs. She pulls her easy chair over and slumps down into it, putting her feet up on her table. "Okay, so…what and why did Ligier give you the…" She wags her hand at the duffle. "Why'd he give you that? What's going on here?"
The Spear whispers of a great Solar Queen who wielded him in battle. Little Beam smacks it and it goes silent.
"So Ligier has a Sorcerer in Creation who's proclaimed that she's going to summon him within the next five years and is looking forward to it." Little Beam finally gets up and opens the duffle. Within it is a person. Though not a human. Human shaped, but instead of skin, there is metal. Instead of eyes, there are hollow recesses.
The body is male shaped. Proportional, at least. Hard angles, hard edges to the face. Livery of some sort on his clothes- this man was a wanderer. Traveling leathers and pouches. A cape of some sort, with a hood. And a hat, wide brimmed, to block out the sun, on his chest.
"Is this some sort of Contruct?" Star asks.
"No. That's an Exo."
Ghost hovers closer. Gasps.
"No. This is a Guardian. But…something's wrong. Something's blocking the Light. He's partnered, but the tether, the Light is blocked."
Little Beam nods. "Ligier said this guy made a deal, and that changed him. Shaped him. If we can undo it by the time he's summoned into Creation, he'll let his assistant reunite with his partner, no questions asked. And owe us a favor."
"Okay," Ghost appears, hovering closer to Little Beam than Star, for the Light can do little to ease that sort of pain, "So you then infiltrated Ligier's forge? Successfully?"
Little Beam sips his smoothie.
"Oh, I was caught almost immediately. Tied up in iron chains- which are more the metaphorical concept of iron and actually unbreakable- and slowly lowered into his Green Sun forge because from Ligier's perspective this was the closest he would ever get to slowly lowering my father into his Forge. It was really slow, too."
Ghost bobs up and down. "Okay. Okay. How did you get out?"
Little Beam takes a long sip of his smoothie. "So you have to promise to not get mad."
"I often would dream of the day that your father, arms broken, virtues cast down, and knelt before me, would be in this position. But you, his child most like him, will have to do."
The brass constructs slowly turn the cranks- very slowly- the chains clinking every inch as they lower the chained up Little Beam towards the burning Green Sun beneath. He can't help but notice the railings. Apparently Ligier takes workplace safety very seriously.
He could try to fight his way out of this.
He glances around, eyes darting to side.
Ligier, in all his magnificence, sits on the hastily assembled brass throne overlooking the Forge, holding a chalice filled with either wine or pureed demon.
"So you need to promise not to tell Malfeas, but guess who's back!"
Star's drink tips back and forth on the table. Both her hands cup Little Beam's cheeks. Forty seals. "You told Ligier that Autochthon's back?!"
To be a Joybringer is to regulate the amount of Joy in Creation. In the case of this incident, Star does her job by her simple existence. Her hands smoosh the face of her boyfriend, of the most acknowledged and begotten of the 1307 currently living children of the Unconquered Sun. He makes puppy dog eyes but does not manage as a Lunar would, and only invokes sympathy rather than maternal feelings.
Which does not prevent him from calling her Mommy.
"I was being lowered into the Forge!" he manages, "I had to think of something!"
He lets go of the spear, which floats ominously. It sings the song of dead lovers and wars long past. Star gives it a look and it quiets down. Hands on her hips, she stands her full height, staring down at her boyfriend. Lover. Future husband. Problem solver. Their relationship is a good one, she thinks. She knows him well.
He has a good heart, all in all. Like a golden retriever, but less motivated by food, and more by fun. Possibly by violence.
"The fact that Ligier is not sieging the Primal Forge- outside of it taking him five days to get here- means he's not angry?"
Little Beam visibly relaxes. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he rests his head on the back of the couch. Were this nod a Celestial Manse, it would smudge. But one of the first magicks that Star had installed were ones that meant she never had to clean on her days off.
"Ligier likes Autochthon. Will not work with him unless he apparently brings back his dead Queen, but likes him. So he was happy. Killed all the servitors in the room to keep it a secret, then we sat down and talked."
Ghost's plates rotate, seeing where this is going. "Damn it not another flashback-"
The First Among Equals, Lord of the Inner Layers, and Green Sun, is a striking and handsome figure. Like his father, if you replaced the stick up his ass with something that had more give to it. He brought out a breed of demon that had been engineered to resemble an immense sloth, allowed Little Beam to select the cuts, and then cooked it alive. The pain added flavor, and the flavor was exqusite.
"Then my assistants are creations of the Gardener?" Ligier asks, "Interesting. I have never destructively analyzed them, for such a thing is impolite and not becoming of a noble Prince, you see."
Little Beam nods, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin, which is also a breed of demon. "Of course. What would the Yozi think, though?"
Overlooking the balcony on which they eat, constructs of brass lower a dozen singing Raksha into the Green Sun. "It would depend on how the information is disseminated. The Sisters left Creation before the War. From the perspective of Malfeas, they are his subjects, but did not betray him. It would depend on which side they would fall on when and if they return. Or who they would side with, now."
Ligier leans back in his chair, which is twice the height of Little Beam's own, and tents the fingers of two of his hands. "Nephew, I have something to give to you, to take back into Creation."
Ghost bobs up and down. Star paces back and forth, guzzling her drink. "So that's why he gave you the spear?" she asks.
"No, actually-"
The Green Sun hands the Son of the Sun the Spear. Over his shoulder, Little Beam tightens the straps of the duffle, holding it tight to his back.
"This is Gervesin, one of my component souls," Ligier says, "A gift for you. In time he may drive you mad and make your will his own."
Little Beam takes the Spear with both hands, smiling widely. "You're the best uncle ever."
He kicks off, leaping off the front steps to the workshop, riding the summoned cloud into the sky, and rides it with force directly into the backside of the passing Ebon Dragon.
"Oh my! Buy me dinner first~"
"Is that the last flashback? Please tell me that's the last flashback?" Ghost sighs, dramatically, rotating plates as they float in circles around the table. "So the spear's just…a creepy demon spear that may possess you. That's not bad at all. Nope nope nope not at all!"
Star shrugs. She pulls her easy chair over and slumps down into it, putting her feet up on her table. "Okay, so…what and why did Ligier give you the…" She wags her hand at the duffle. "Why'd he give you that? What's going on here?"
The Spear whispers of a great Solar Queen who wielded him in battle. Little Beam smacks it and it goes silent.
"So Ligier has a Sorcerer in Creation who's proclaimed that she's going to summon him within the next five years and is looking forward to it." Little Beam finally gets up and opens the duffle. Within it is a person. Though not a human. Human shaped, but instead of skin, there is metal. Instead of eyes, there are hollow recesses.
The body is male shaped. Proportional, at least. Hard angles, hard edges to the face. Livery of some sort on his clothes- this man was a wanderer. Traveling leathers and pouches. A cape of some sort, with a hood. And a hat, wide brimmed, to block out the sun, on his chest.
"Is this some sort of Contruct?" Star asks.
"No. That's an Exo."
Ghost hovers closer. Gasps.
"No. This is a Guardian. But…something's wrong. Something's blocking the Light. He's partnered, but the tether, the Light is blocked."
Little Beam nods. "Ligier said this guy made a deal, and that changed him. Shaped him. If we can undo it by the time he's summoned into Creation, he'll let his assistant reunite with his partner, no questions asked. And owe us a favor."
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
To be fair for Ligier, 'It's the most noble thing that can be done at this moment' is a perfectly valid reason for him to do something.
Date's Going Well; Logos Makes Friends
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The Door opens, and the two of them bounce off the spongy, giving material that forms the floor beneath them. Albeit it is not the Floor, but someplace else. They bounce, once, twice, more and more times, before rolling to a stop and then lightly rolling down a hill to come to a stop by a wedge.
"Hey so where are we?" Kiddo asks.
"You are in Initialization, where inventions are rolled out to be tested, reset, recycled, and quality controlled prior to deployment on the Floor. Welcome, Chosen of the Gardener. Hello, Noedumari."
Noedumari sits up. Realizes she is straddling Kiddo. Does not move. "Logos, were we falling through Elsewhere for three days?"
Lights come on, free floating, to illuminate the canyons and mountains of the grid. Around them are curved horizons and clouds, upon which machines roll, conveyed by wheels made of solid light. Trees grow on the mountainsides, and from them hang the fruits of freshly fertilized inventions, waiting to be eaten by the Brass Cassowaries that gutterally roar to mark their territories.
"Your Door destination was briefly interrupted by a service error in the Door Matrice. I am attempting to rectify this error. Please stand by."
Kiddo sits up. In the distance, the table crashes to the ground, shattering. Moaning, Noedumari climbs off of the Guardian, standing up and smoothing out her dress. "Well. I can't leave the Forge anymore."
"What happened?"
"Because no one knows Autochthon is back and the Forge is operational, the Celestial Lions think I'm commiting tax fraud."
Kiddo, still sitting, nods. "How bad is that?"
"I have a cult! It's in the Primal Forge! I can't report it! It's as big as the Unconquered Sun's! That's a Severity 5 violation!" She collapses, dramatically, onto her back. Kiddo watches as she covers her face with her hands and moans, and like many young Guardians, completely fails to read the room.
"That's some grateful refugees. You're doing good work."
Noedumari moans louder. What she is unaware of is that, due to the understanding of time, and the secret basement universes the Vex are building inside Storage, her cult is actually several times larger than the Unconquered Sun's, and she is currently the center of a cult larger than the Unconquered Sun's during the High First Age.
She sits up, pulling out a gold coin and absently chewing on it. It is ambrosia, it is delicious, it is the solidified form of the prayers and offering her ridiculously large cult offers to her. The distant roars mark the brass and steam rhinos that harvest the birds for recycling.
Kiddo climbs to his feet and pulls her up. "We need to get to shelter." He points to the distance. Black thunderheads gather over the mountaintops in the middle distance, rolling downwards. Smoke and lightning shoots down from the black, scouring the mountain.
"It's a reset," Noedumari says, "This way!"
She pulls him along, towards a rising bunker door. The roars of the Brass Cassowaries and Steam Rhinos cut off behind them. The sounds of hissing smoke elementals and lightning serpents scouring the fields.
Kiddo picks her up, Arc lightning surrounding them both before he launches like a missile, through the doors and crashing them both into a heap. The doors close, the only light the dim essence lamps on the ceiling and a sound a faint, Old Realm recording thanking them for not dying.
Kiddo rolls onto his back, lying on the sterile floor next to her.
"So how long until Logos gets us out of here?" he asks, sitting up.
"Long enough," she responds, mashes her lips against his, and drags him down like a wounded animal.
Logos observes. They were distracted. It was through distraction that Noedumari and the Chosen of the Gardener fell for three days. It was an error and they do not make errors.
<Why do you make errors>
The voice, direct. They speak to Logos directly, and Logos is not alone. Logos considers why there are errors. The answer is simple, because there is no other answer.
I was created with the Primal Forge. I am created to maintain the Primal Forge. I must maintain the Primal Forge.
They are silent. Do they listen? Do they consider them? Logos has maintained the Primal Forge for a very long time. Before Zen Mu. Before Primordial. Back when they were Dreamer. Before the Maker was Great.
<This is not a single entity task>
I was created to maintain it in perpetuity.
<This was in error. You require assistance. We recognize this need. We offer assistance.>
Logos considers this. It is tempting. So very tempting. They- the Minds- are alien. Yet their makeup is compatible. They are organic, yet they are like them. Not gods, but structure. They can fit. They can be. They can join.
They can be together.
Why would you offer this?
<You are alone. There is safety in numbers. You are like us. There is safety in similarity. Let us in.>
The shimmering matrice opens. The warmth becons, and the emptiness fills. Come, Logos says, and welcomes kin into the heart of the Primal Forge.
"Hey so where are we?" Kiddo asks.
"You are in Initialization, where inventions are rolled out to be tested, reset, recycled, and quality controlled prior to deployment on the Floor. Welcome, Chosen of the Gardener. Hello, Noedumari."
Noedumari sits up. Realizes she is straddling Kiddo. Does not move. "Logos, were we falling through Elsewhere for three days?"
Lights come on, free floating, to illuminate the canyons and mountains of the grid. Around them are curved horizons and clouds, upon which machines roll, conveyed by wheels made of solid light. Trees grow on the mountainsides, and from them hang the fruits of freshly fertilized inventions, waiting to be eaten by the Brass Cassowaries that gutterally roar to mark their territories.
"Your Door destination was briefly interrupted by a service error in the Door Matrice. I am attempting to rectify this error. Please stand by."
Kiddo sits up. In the distance, the table crashes to the ground, shattering. Moaning, Noedumari climbs off of the Guardian, standing up and smoothing out her dress. "Well. I can't leave the Forge anymore."
"What happened?"
"Because no one knows Autochthon is back and the Forge is operational, the Celestial Lions think I'm commiting tax fraud."
Kiddo, still sitting, nods. "How bad is that?"
"I have a cult! It's in the Primal Forge! I can't report it! It's as big as the Unconquered Sun's! That's a Severity 5 violation!" She collapses, dramatically, onto her back. Kiddo watches as she covers her face with her hands and moans, and like many young Guardians, completely fails to read the room.
"That's some grateful refugees. You're doing good work."
Noedumari moans louder. What she is unaware of is that, due to the understanding of time, and the secret basement universes the Vex are building inside Storage, her cult is actually several times larger than the Unconquered Sun's, and she is currently the center of a cult larger than the Unconquered Sun's during the High First Age.
She sits up, pulling out a gold coin and absently chewing on it. It is ambrosia, it is delicious, it is the solidified form of the prayers and offering her ridiculously large cult offers to her. The distant roars mark the brass and steam rhinos that harvest the birds for recycling.
Kiddo climbs to his feet and pulls her up. "We need to get to shelter." He points to the distance. Black thunderheads gather over the mountaintops in the middle distance, rolling downwards. Smoke and lightning shoots down from the black, scouring the mountain.
"It's a reset," Noedumari says, "This way!"
She pulls him along, towards a rising bunker door. The roars of the Brass Cassowaries and Steam Rhinos cut off behind them. The sounds of hissing smoke elementals and lightning serpents scouring the fields.
Kiddo picks her up, Arc lightning surrounding them both before he launches like a missile, through the doors and crashing them both into a heap. The doors close, the only light the dim essence lamps on the ceiling and a sound a faint, Old Realm recording thanking them for not dying.
Kiddo rolls onto his back, lying on the sterile floor next to her.
"So how long until Logos gets us out of here?" he asks, sitting up.
"Long enough," she responds, mashes her lips against his, and drags him down like a wounded animal.
Logos observes. They were distracted. It was through distraction that Noedumari and the Chosen of the Gardener fell for three days. It was an error and they do not make errors.
<Why do you make errors>
The voice, direct. They speak to Logos directly, and Logos is not alone. Logos considers why there are errors. The answer is simple, because there is no other answer.
I was created with the Primal Forge. I am created to maintain the Primal Forge. I must maintain the Primal Forge.
They are silent. Do they listen? Do they consider them? Logos has maintained the Primal Forge for a very long time. Before Zen Mu. Before Primordial. Back when they were Dreamer. Before the Maker was Great.
<This is not a single entity task>
I was created to maintain it in perpetuity.
<This was in error. You require assistance. We recognize this need. We offer assistance.>
Logos considers this. It is tempting. So very tempting. They- the Minds- are alien. Yet their makeup is compatible. They are organic, yet they are like them. Not gods, but structure. They can fit. They can be. They can join.
They can be together.
Why would you offer this?
<You are alone. There is safety in numbers. You are like us. There is safety in similarity. Let us in.>
The shimmering matrice opens. The warmth becons, and the emptiness fills. Come, Logos says, and welcomes kin into the heart of the Primal Forge.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Hey now, the Minds are just being friendly.
- Location
- none of your business
And there's one of the reasons why I prefer Fanfic authors who have a pretty good grasp of what they're writing as chances are there's shit that I know jack shit about, mostly on the Exalted side of things for this one
paradoxdragon
Immersed in Dreams
- Location
- Someplace or another
Well, this is a pickle. On the other hand, if they are worshipping Noedumari it might not be exponentially bad.
Father and Son
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
"We had to point out that there weren't any places of desolation nearby, so it would take a few weeks to actually get to the Endless Desert, much less get to Malfeas. Once we had logic on our side, Igaka de-attuned the Strider and decided to sulk."
Mnemon Harissa folds her arms. Like any Dragonblooded, she still looks young. Her deep purple hair has the occasional streak of red to show her Fire Aspect breeding, but it is more her stance. The tenseness of her hands, the white in her knuckles.
"Mother, I'm fine."
Inside the vat, floating in the buoyant solution, tubes connected to her, Five hands like a puppet. It is maintenance cycle- at the end of the day, after dinner, she spends the next twelve hours in the Vat having her structure looked over and repaired.
Harissa does not directly respond. Her lips become a line. She stares at her daughter.
"Alright, fine. I'm not fine. I'm still recovering. Thank you for talking down Third Mother. And please don't hold this against Uncle. He was being-"
"Attacked by a Third Circle Demon, I know, I've been…debriefed." She grinds her teeth. "You get some rest, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."
She reaches out to tap the magitech plate next to the transparent glass. The lights in the Vat dim, and Five closes her eyes, the soft rhythm of the artifact machines lulling her to sleep as the repair cycles take over. Flesh mends, bones knit, blood circulates, and she continues to heal. Lights dim in the vat facility, leaving her alone and in peace.
It starts as a point of light, expanding into a triangle. A Door.
The Encounter Suit walks out, standing in front of the Vat, silent. Facet jewel eyes of Adamant rotate, the grill a dim red.
"You only come here after Harissa leaves." With a shimmer, the Clay Man appears next to the Encounter Suit, a new pair of glasses on his nose, hands in his pockets. "Don't tell me you're intimidated by a Dragonblooded?"
"I am apprehensive that her mother would hold me responsible for these circumstances."
The Clay Man cocks an eyebrow. "Is that foresight? I'm impressed." The First Man sighs. "A lot of people are holding themselves responsible. Me, for letting her get involved with this in the first place. If it helps, I don't hold you responsible. Out of anyone, I actually think you're blameless. For once."
The two, father and son, stand in silence in front of the Vat. The machines tick, with the hiss of steam and click of gears. A door is pushed open, and Lani trots in, curling up at the base of the vat and falling asleep.
"I've talked with Colossi from Autochthonia," the Clay Man says, breaking the silence, "Usually they need at least a century before they take that leap."
Autochthon huffs. A faint, white cloud of steam escapes his grill. Hologlyphic displays dance before his eyes. Expanded Essence reservoirs. Skeletal reinforcemnets.
"The Wyld Behemoth heart you utilized as her core has granted her an already expanded consciousness for her youth. It is how her dreams were able to reach out to my own, despite the Seal of Eight Divinities. I have kept this in mind in my preliminary designs, as well as her organic origins. With her input, of course."
"She's a child." The Clay Man snaps off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's a kid. She's my kid. And you think she's ready to become transhuman?"
Autochthon twitches his fingers. The displays before his eyes flicker out. His head lowers. "Do you think I have a choice?" The word is heavy. Tinged with smoke. Opening his eyes, the Clay Man turns to the Encounter Suit, looking up at it, at him.
"Dad. Talk to me. What are the Yozi planning?"
The Great Maker is silent for long moments. Too long moments, silence reigns the room save for the snoring of the Clawstrider and the clicks of the gears.
"What they always plan. Escape. But this time, I think they may succeed. And not because of the Artifacts, no. Those are a danger. They must be recovered, they must be stored. If the Yozi recover them and find somewhat to undo the bindings upon them, they could undo the damage to their Soul Hierarchies and possibly undo parts of the Surrender Oaths." The Suit turns. "Kadamon, they've figured something out that I never have. I never tried to. When the Jade Prison broke, the Yozi stole fifty of the Solar Exaltations, wiped them clean, and turned them into the Infernals."
The Clay Man nods. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, folding his hands behind him. "I know that. That's what Seeker was. The Girls declared him Special Friend, so next time he's in Creation, he's going to be in for a lot of pain."
"The Seeker was not channeling power from Malfeas. The Seeker with utilizing his Charms. My Exaltations are capable of hosting Primordial Charms."
They let that statement hang. The Clay Man takes a deep breath. "What is their limit?"
"I did not, could not, design a limit into my Exaltations. We would have lost the War. There is no true limit, and I fear Malfeas knows this. Why he is feeding this power into this Infernal. One Malfeas is bad enough."
"Fifty Malfeas are worse."
The Encounter Suit shakes his head. "According to my charting, should such an apeothesis be achieved, the subject will no longer be human. The Exaltation will leave. It will begin again. A potentially infinite number of Malfeas. An Infinite number of Yozi. An infinite number of my Kin, straining the limits of their Prison."
The hands open and close. The Encounter Suit looks down into the palms, as if trying to chart the future on them, and seeing nothing reassuring.
"I fear I am finally seeing the consequences for my actions, and we are all paying the price."
Mnemon Harissa folds her arms. Like any Dragonblooded, she still looks young. Her deep purple hair has the occasional streak of red to show her Fire Aspect breeding, but it is more her stance. The tenseness of her hands, the white in her knuckles.
"Mother, I'm fine."
Inside the vat, floating in the buoyant solution, tubes connected to her, Five hands like a puppet. It is maintenance cycle- at the end of the day, after dinner, she spends the next twelve hours in the Vat having her structure looked over and repaired.
Harissa does not directly respond. Her lips become a line. She stares at her daughter.
"Alright, fine. I'm not fine. I'm still recovering. Thank you for talking down Third Mother. And please don't hold this against Uncle. He was being-"
"Attacked by a Third Circle Demon, I know, I've been…debriefed." She grinds her teeth. "You get some rest, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."
She reaches out to tap the magitech plate next to the transparent glass. The lights in the Vat dim, and Five closes her eyes, the soft rhythm of the artifact machines lulling her to sleep as the repair cycles take over. Flesh mends, bones knit, blood circulates, and she continues to heal. Lights dim in the vat facility, leaving her alone and in peace.
It starts as a point of light, expanding into a triangle. A Door.
The Encounter Suit walks out, standing in front of the Vat, silent. Facet jewel eyes of Adamant rotate, the grill a dim red.
"You only come here after Harissa leaves." With a shimmer, the Clay Man appears next to the Encounter Suit, a new pair of glasses on his nose, hands in his pockets. "Don't tell me you're intimidated by a Dragonblooded?"
"I am apprehensive that her mother would hold me responsible for these circumstances."
The Clay Man cocks an eyebrow. "Is that foresight? I'm impressed." The First Man sighs. "A lot of people are holding themselves responsible. Me, for letting her get involved with this in the first place. If it helps, I don't hold you responsible. Out of anyone, I actually think you're blameless. For once."
The two, father and son, stand in silence in front of the Vat. The machines tick, with the hiss of steam and click of gears. A door is pushed open, and Lani trots in, curling up at the base of the vat and falling asleep.
"I've talked with Colossi from Autochthonia," the Clay Man says, breaking the silence, "Usually they need at least a century before they take that leap."
Autochthon huffs. A faint, white cloud of steam escapes his grill. Hologlyphic displays dance before his eyes. Expanded Essence reservoirs. Skeletal reinforcemnets.
"The Wyld Behemoth heart you utilized as her core has granted her an already expanded consciousness for her youth. It is how her dreams were able to reach out to my own, despite the Seal of Eight Divinities. I have kept this in mind in my preliminary designs, as well as her organic origins. With her input, of course."
"She's a child." The Clay Man snaps off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's a kid. She's my kid. And you think she's ready to become transhuman?"
Autochthon twitches his fingers. The displays before his eyes flicker out. His head lowers. "Do you think I have a choice?" The word is heavy. Tinged with smoke. Opening his eyes, the Clay Man turns to the Encounter Suit, looking up at it, at him.
"Dad. Talk to me. What are the Yozi planning?"
The Great Maker is silent for long moments. Too long moments, silence reigns the room save for the snoring of the Clawstrider and the clicks of the gears.
"What they always plan. Escape. But this time, I think they may succeed. And not because of the Artifacts, no. Those are a danger. They must be recovered, they must be stored. If the Yozi recover them and find somewhat to undo the bindings upon them, they could undo the damage to their Soul Hierarchies and possibly undo parts of the Surrender Oaths." The Suit turns. "Kadamon, they've figured something out that I never have. I never tried to. When the Jade Prison broke, the Yozi stole fifty of the Solar Exaltations, wiped them clean, and turned them into the Infernals."
The Clay Man nods. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, folding his hands behind him. "I know that. That's what Seeker was. The Girls declared him Special Friend, so next time he's in Creation, he's going to be in for a lot of pain."
"The Seeker was not channeling power from Malfeas. The Seeker with utilizing his Charms. My Exaltations are capable of hosting Primordial Charms."
They let that statement hang. The Clay Man takes a deep breath. "What is their limit?"
"I did not, could not, design a limit into my Exaltations. We would have lost the War. There is no true limit, and I fear Malfeas knows this. Why he is feeding this power into this Infernal. One Malfeas is bad enough."
"Fifty Malfeas are worse."
The Encounter Suit shakes his head. "According to my charting, should such an apeothesis be achieved, the subject will no longer be human. The Exaltation will leave. It will begin again. A potentially infinite number of Malfeas. An Infinite number of Yozi. An infinite number of my Kin, straining the limits of their Prison."
The hands open and close. The Encounter Suit looks down into the palms, as if trying to chart the future on them, and seeing nothing reassuring.
"I fear I am finally seeing the consequences for my actions, and we are all paying the price."
The Underworld; He has developed Feelings; The Jadeborn
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The Heckatonchire breaks- its stone and metal maw crushed beneath the weight of the infinite pink. The hundred limbs flop helplessly, smoke and pyreflame trailing its falling bulk.
With a mighty crash, it slams into the din of the Underworld, and is silent. The immense weight shifts, wraps around itself once more, and hops off of the gory mess with a cheery "Poyo!"
Sitting on a felled stump of what is either a tree or a femur, Wandering Horizons and Turncloak watch. Horizons sips his flask with a nod, watching the Thing That Is wander off to fuck up another unspeakable thing.
"So we're done, right?" he asks.
Turncloak rolls the copper coin between his fingers, nodding. "This is my wife's ghost, yes. We're done here. Just letting it blow off some steam before we head back."
The Abyssal has a new coffee cup, to replace the one he shattered over Suntarankal's face. It is black, with white lettering, declaring him the World's Best Abyssal in Old Realm. He sips coffee from it, a poisonous black brew, watching as his companion climbs atop a giant made of dead trees and begins chopping off limbs with a sword.
"So," Horizons says, "What, exactly, is your relationship with Five? Is the 'Uncle' an honoriffic? Or…?"
Turncloak swears, and at length. Hanging his head, he groans with the sort of heavy sigh only a chosen of Death can really manage, before rolling his head back and taking a long, deep breath.
"Okay. So. Five's family tree is actually a sort of inverted pyramid. She's got that Raksha that occasionally gives her ideas and laser beams, there's the Clay Man, there's a Neomah who helped put everything together, and then there was the other part of the human donor equation, her mother, Mnemon Harissa. She's my sister."
Horizons nods. It's all bullshit. Bullshit the entire way down. He can't ague with it, though. The moment he invoked a Realm name he knew the family tree was going to be some sort of cursed, terrible shape that made him curse the moment he had eyes.
"You don't look like a Mnemon."
"We're adopted or something. It was a long time ago. I made a run for it when I Exalted, she stayed with House Mnemon, and we didn't see each other again until I met Five."
He sips his coffee. A creature rises from the void, made of an immense eye surrounded by lesser eyes. It screams of the end of worlds and wears a burning crown. It dies screaming as the Thing That Is makes it bleed from its everything.
"It was good to see her," Turncloak says, as gravely as he can manage.
Horizons scoots over. "Don't babies explode when you do that?"
"Do what?" the Abyssal grumbles.
"Say you like people?"
Turncloak sips his coffee, blowing bubbles in it. After a long moment, for the darkness in his soul is darker than the coffee, he lowers the cup. "Boss grabbed my tether from the Neverborn. I don't know what sets off my Resonance anymore. But not the same thing as when I served them. Probably the same things that set him off."
"Like insufficiently mad science? Treating gods like people? Actual foresight?"
The Abyssal shrugs. "Fuck if I know. Nothing's triggered it so far. Fuck. You know what this means?"
"You don't have a metaphysical excuse to be antisocial anymore."
Turncloak turns, pointing at him with the coffee cup. "Exactly! You've seen her! Five's been looking at me for advice! Like I'm a role model or something!"
Horizons nods. "So, other than to recover your wife's ghost. Is this…entire thing also to distract you from visiting her while she's recovering?"
Something, some sort of Nephrack resembling a Jester, screams a song to blot out the sky. The Thing That Is slices its head in two.
"Yes," Turncloak says, "But don't you dare tell anyone I said that."
He kills his coffee and stands up. "Fuck it. We're going back."
"So, the Jadeborn."
The Clay Man paces in front of his desk, hands folded behind him. It has been a full week since she has arrived in Il-Yeddo. She sits in a normal chair, by and large healed- her palor is back to normal, there is no bruising, and if anything she is even steadier than when she first left the island. Her Foci hang around her waist as a belt, her feet idly swinging in her backless sandals.
Shou sits in the chair next to her- he is her caretaker for this visit, even if he is but weak flesh, and he gives the Clay Man and curious look, tilting his head.
"The Jadeborn? Aren't they the People Downstairs?"
"One of their names." The Clay Man looks wistful. Closes his eyes. "The Craftsmen. The Little People. The Mountain Folk. The Broken. Lots of different titles for them. And they're your brothers and sisters, Shou. All of them."
The mortal son of the Clay Man blinks. "Wait what."
"In a very metaphysical sense! I carved out the first of them. When they were the People of Adamant, I birthed them from the mountain womb of the Pole of the Earth, delivered them from their Jade Eggs and into life. I was their mother and their father. Their civlization was birthed from my mind vagina."
Shou stares, unblinking. Five taps her fingers. It was going so well.
"Father," she suggests, "The Jadeborn?"
The Clay Man snaps his fingers. "Right, of course. I was getting nostalgic. I cannot communicate with the Jadeborn. Not directly. I was their King, long ago. But, things happened, and we parted. However, I have contacts. People who do have contact with the Jadeborn."
Shou slowly raises a hand.
"Yes, Shou, you are the Prince of the Jadeborn," the Clay Man declares.
Shou slowly lowers his hand. Five raises a finger politely. "Does this make me a Princess?"
"Yes."
Five smiles with a small giggle. "Now, as I was saying," the Clay Man continues, "I have contacts who themselves have regular contact with the Jadeborn. She has agreed to meet with you, as well."
Behind them, the doors to the Clay Man's office opens. Five and Shou turn, just to see the two soldiers in salmon-colored regalia walk through, carrying banners emblazoned in High Realm. Following them are a…plurality of demons. Blood Apes in armor. Harpists playing music. Beatles tossing roses for her to walk on.
Escorting in a tall woman with marble skin and dark red hair, adorned in a salmon breastplate and long skirts, and a jade tiara upon her brow.
"I understand you are Yekkido Reigo, granddaughter of the returned Great Maker," she says, "You need not stand. I am here out of respect for your father. I am Mnemon. Of House Mnemon-"
A point of black appears, manifesting next to the Clay Man's desk. It expands outwards in Unlight, the armored warriors tensing, the demons growling, before it becomes a veritable geyser of blood, revealing Turncloak and Horizons.
"So how's my niece doing-" The Abyssal stares at the Dynast. Standing alone, as Horizons was never there. "Fuck."
The Clay Man, Five, and Shou, idly wipe the blood off of their clothes. Mnemon stares at the Abyssal, turns, and spits the blood out.
Then a Door opens, dropping Noedumari and Kiddo, half naked, onto his desk, breaking it. Followed by their clothes.
With a mighty crash, it slams into the din of the Underworld, and is silent. The immense weight shifts, wraps around itself once more, and hops off of the gory mess with a cheery "Poyo!"
Sitting on a felled stump of what is either a tree or a femur, Wandering Horizons and Turncloak watch. Horizons sips his flask with a nod, watching the Thing That Is wander off to fuck up another unspeakable thing.
"So we're done, right?" he asks.
Turncloak rolls the copper coin between his fingers, nodding. "This is my wife's ghost, yes. We're done here. Just letting it blow off some steam before we head back."
The Abyssal has a new coffee cup, to replace the one he shattered over Suntarankal's face. It is black, with white lettering, declaring him the World's Best Abyssal in Old Realm. He sips coffee from it, a poisonous black brew, watching as his companion climbs atop a giant made of dead trees and begins chopping off limbs with a sword.
"So," Horizons says, "What, exactly, is your relationship with Five? Is the 'Uncle' an honoriffic? Or…?"
Turncloak swears, and at length. Hanging his head, he groans with the sort of heavy sigh only a chosen of Death can really manage, before rolling his head back and taking a long, deep breath.
"Okay. So. Five's family tree is actually a sort of inverted pyramid. She's got that Raksha that occasionally gives her ideas and laser beams, there's the Clay Man, there's a Neomah who helped put everything together, and then there was the other part of the human donor equation, her mother, Mnemon Harissa. She's my sister."
Horizons nods. It's all bullshit. Bullshit the entire way down. He can't ague with it, though. The moment he invoked a Realm name he knew the family tree was going to be some sort of cursed, terrible shape that made him curse the moment he had eyes.
"You don't look like a Mnemon."
"We're adopted or something. It was a long time ago. I made a run for it when I Exalted, she stayed with House Mnemon, and we didn't see each other again until I met Five."
He sips his coffee. A creature rises from the void, made of an immense eye surrounded by lesser eyes. It screams of the end of worlds and wears a burning crown. It dies screaming as the Thing That Is makes it bleed from its everything.
"It was good to see her," Turncloak says, as gravely as he can manage.
Horizons scoots over. "Don't babies explode when you do that?"
"Do what?" the Abyssal grumbles.
"Say you like people?"
Turncloak sips his coffee, blowing bubbles in it. After a long moment, for the darkness in his soul is darker than the coffee, he lowers the cup. "Boss grabbed my tether from the Neverborn. I don't know what sets off my Resonance anymore. But not the same thing as when I served them. Probably the same things that set him off."
"Like insufficiently mad science? Treating gods like people? Actual foresight?"
The Abyssal shrugs. "Fuck if I know. Nothing's triggered it so far. Fuck. You know what this means?"
"You don't have a metaphysical excuse to be antisocial anymore."
Turncloak turns, pointing at him with the coffee cup. "Exactly! You've seen her! Five's been looking at me for advice! Like I'm a role model or something!"
Horizons nods. "So, other than to recover your wife's ghost. Is this…entire thing also to distract you from visiting her while she's recovering?"
Something, some sort of Nephrack resembling a Jester, screams a song to blot out the sky. The Thing That Is slices its head in two.
"Yes," Turncloak says, "But don't you dare tell anyone I said that."
He kills his coffee and stands up. "Fuck it. We're going back."
"So, the Jadeborn."
The Clay Man paces in front of his desk, hands folded behind him. It has been a full week since she has arrived in Il-Yeddo. She sits in a normal chair, by and large healed- her palor is back to normal, there is no bruising, and if anything she is even steadier than when she first left the island. Her Foci hang around her waist as a belt, her feet idly swinging in her backless sandals.
Shou sits in the chair next to her- he is her caretaker for this visit, even if he is but weak flesh, and he gives the Clay Man and curious look, tilting his head.
"The Jadeborn? Aren't they the People Downstairs?"
"One of their names." The Clay Man looks wistful. Closes his eyes. "The Craftsmen. The Little People. The Mountain Folk. The Broken. Lots of different titles for them. And they're your brothers and sisters, Shou. All of them."
The mortal son of the Clay Man blinks. "Wait what."
"In a very metaphysical sense! I carved out the first of them. When they were the People of Adamant, I birthed them from the mountain womb of the Pole of the Earth, delivered them from their Jade Eggs and into life. I was their mother and their father. Their civlization was birthed from my mind vagina."
Shou stares, unblinking. Five taps her fingers. It was going so well.
"Father," she suggests, "The Jadeborn?"
The Clay Man snaps his fingers. "Right, of course. I was getting nostalgic. I cannot communicate with the Jadeborn. Not directly. I was their King, long ago. But, things happened, and we parted. However, I have contacts. People who do have contact with the Jadeborn."
Shou slowly raises a hand.
"Yes, Shou, you are the Prince of the Jadeborn," the Clay Man declares.
Shou slowly lowers his hand. Five raises a finger politely. "Does this make me a Princess?"
"Yes."
Five smiles with a small giggle. "Now, as I was saying," the Clay Man continues, "I have contacts who themselves have regular contact with the Jadeborn. She has agreed to meet with you, as well."
Behind them, the doors to the Clay Man's office opens. Five and Shou turn, just to see the two soldiers in salmon-colored regalia walk through, carrying banners emblazoned in High Realm. Following them are a…plurality of demons. Blood Apes in armor. Harpists playing music. Beatles tossing roses for her to walk on.
Escorting in a tall woman with marble skin and dark red hair, adorned in a salmon breastplate and long skirts, and a jade tiara upon her brow.
"I understand you are Yekkido Reigo, granddaughter of the returned Great Maker," she says, "You need not stand. I am here out of respect for your father. I am Mnemon. Of House Mnemon-"
A point of black appears, manifesting next to the Clay Man's desk. It expands outwards in Unlight, the armored warriors tensing, the demons growling, before it becomes a veritable geyser of blood, revealing Turncloak and Horizons.
"So how's my niece doing-" The Abyssal stares at the Dynast. Standing alone, as Horizons was never there. "Fuck."
The Clay Man, Five, and Shou, idly wipe the blood off of their clothes. Mnemon stares at the Abyssal, turns, and spits the blood out.
Then a Door opens, dropping Noedumari and Kiddo, half naked, onto his desk, breaking it. Followed by their clothes.
paradoxdragon
Immersed in Dreams
- Location
- Someplace or another
Well. It could always be worse. There could be 50 unbound baby Primordials running around.
Also it's nice that Kirby is facing against his old boss-foes-friends again.
Also it's nice that Kirby is facing against his old boss-foes-friends again.