Subject: OOC: Put me in, coach!
Author:
Posted on: 2020-08-23 02:05:58 UTC
I am definitely up for that. It's kinda sorta by accident, but El-Ahrairah accidentally scummed his way into being one of the more dangerous physical combatants in the present pantheon; I'd like a chance to prove that against a deity whose tiering would conventionally be a lot higher. Generally speaking, elf goddess of the natural world >>>>>>> overconfident rabbit.
Every ninety years twelve gods return as young people. They are loved. They are hated. In two years, they are all dead. It's happening now. It's happening...
... here?
Tanfin Illian had never been all that comfortable in PPC HQ. Partly that was due to the sheer number of people who knew his parents and wanted to talk to him about it, or (more and more, now that he was in his teens and pushing towards the 'ageless immortal' appearance he seemed destined for) actually mistook him for his father. Despite him being a couple of feet shorter, and having, y'know, two hands and significantly less of a superiority complex.
("It's not a complex if it's true," Dafydd had once said. Tanfin didn't disagree in principle, but 'House Fëanor is Just Better' wasn't exactly a hill worth dying on.)
More than any of that, though, was that he had never been comfortable indoors. He'd grown up on the slopes of the mountains, and had spent more time outside than in. He loved their home, which skillful application of PPC-pilfered technology had made more like an extension of the forest than an actual building, but even then he'd preferred to escape to the woods and hills.
Tanfin grimaced and shook his head, breaking out of the reverie. Brooding over The Injustice Of Corridors wasn't exactly elf-like, after all, and he had volunteered to get the kids. He'd get Jas' and Bella from Sprouts, swing by DoSAT to trade ruthlessly on the PPC's institutional guilt at getting his dad killed (and/or its fear of what his mom would do if they said no), and then head home and escape to the forest-
There was an old woman in the hallway. Even discounting her age, she didn't look much like a PPC agent; granted, she was dressed in black, but the lace mourning veil wasn't exactly on-theme. Tanfin slowed, wondering vaguely who she could be, then shrugged: not his problem. "Excuse me," he said, making to step past her.
She turned. The veil covered her face, becoming a mask shaped from midnight gossamer. Her eyes were startlingly blue, and Tanfin felt himself being drawn into them, examined, and set back on his feet in an instant.
The woman smiled, her face creasing around her lips. Those remarkable eyes glowed. "Once again," she said, "we return," and-
Tanfin was falling, through a void, through an ocean, through an infinity of leaves. The woman's voice was all around him, buoying him up and pushing him down.
"You are of the Pantheon," she said as he drowned. "You will be loved.
"You will be hated.
"You will be brilliant.
"Within two years, you will be dead."
The leaves swept in to claim him, cocooning him in autumn and spring.
"You are the Queen of the Earth," the voice went on, as the ageless forest suffused Tanfin and made him its own. "The Giver of Fruit. Of the forest. Of the harvest. Of deep roots undying."
The corridor returned, and Tanfin stood, feeling the woods singing through him. He was robed in green, a crown of branches on his forehead, and as he turned he felt the whole wild world turn with him. He faced the woman, and his eyes glowed harvest-gold.
The woman smiled, and reached out to him. "We meet again, Yavanna," she said, drawing him into her embrace. "I've missed you."
How To Play
This is a combination round-robin/art-share/roleplay. You write the kids encountering Ananke (the Old Woman); I'll turn them into gods and show you what they look like. Any additional RP after that is encouraged but not required; if it drifts over to the Chat, I'd ask that it be copied here once it's done so I can see. :)
This is broadly canon but doesn't require Permission to participate. It takes place over August 2020; Tanfin's encounter with Ananke (the Old Woman) takes place on August 1st; on August 31st, all godhoods will be in-universe revoked (yes, I know how and why). Former gods will suffer no ill effects from godhood, specifically including dying in 2 years. Other effects are assumed to be permanent, so please don't hurt anyone who doesn't want to be hurt!
Ananke can appear to anyone between the ages of 10 and 20 (loosely defined: 'adolescent of their species', 'mentally a teenager', 'age-regressed', or 'badfic-created 10-20 years ago' would all count). No time-travel to get there unless it's already established as part of the character, please. Ananke tends to appear in relative privacy, and - as seen - isn't one for introductions. She can still say something if you want, but it's usually pretty cryptic.
To join in, write a scene with your character encountering Ananke, down to the moment before she does her void/cocoon/empowerment thing. End by choosing a god for your character to become. This can be any fictional god, unless they're also a Real World god. Aslan, yes - Apollo, no. The god should be one you think is appropriate for your character, but doesn't have to be from the same canon as them. As Yavanna proves, genders (and other traits) are irrelevant.
I will write the descent/ascent, and draw the newly-anointed god. Please either link to a description/picture of your character, or give a short description here; otherwise they're not going to wind up looking like themselves.
The gods are still themselves - Tanfin's personality and memories are still intact, he hasn't been replaced or anything. But now he carries the absolute conviction that he is an incarnation of Yavanna. He will call himself Yavanna, not Tanfin.
The gods perform miracles. These are related to their theme: Yavanna here has growth powers, and probably food-generation, but can also tear things apart with roots. They also all have the ability to perform: to sing, to get right into the hearts of their listeners and inspire them. Canon examples have included "acid-trip hive mind", "nihilistic void", and "better than sex". Again, this stays broadly on theme: Yavanna is a bit Enya-ish, and tends to fill his listeners with aching nostalgia and longing.
Ananke is considered a free-to-use NPC for now (though please don't break her). For this game only, I will also make Yavanna (ie, Tanfin) free-to-use; as the first of the gods to return, he's probably going to be bopping around in the background a bit.
Multiple characters from a single Boarder are allowed, but please follow the Rule of Two A Couple: Only submit a couple of characters, leave a couple of posts or days between submitting, to give others a chance to play, and let's only have a couple of gods from any given canon.
There are only 12 spaces, so get in while you can. :)
For those who know the canon: no spoilers, no Persephones. Doing something fancy with your god - like giving it multiple forms, having a single god incarnate across multiple people, or lying in RP about who your god is - is perfectly fine as long as it makes sense for the god.
And no: the canonical gods will not be affected by this, or know of it in any way. :)
hS
Timefix: August 17th
(ie, well after the gods go public, but before their really big concert.)
El-Ahrairah had suggested the DAS-SQUEE Totally-Not-A-Botany-Lab; Yavanna had countered with the Courtyard; Ananke had proposed New Caledonia. Yavanna had suggested the Tparc Pterry (lots of trees), El-Ahrairah had countered with the Parc Tolkien (no trees, lots of grass), and Ananke had shown a surprising knowledge of the New Cal city and proposed the Arboretum.
So Yavanna sat on a bench outside the glass-domed buildings, tossing an Araucaria pine-cone from hand to hand. Most passers-by gave him a wide berth, though one teenaged agent did ask for his autograph. Apart from that, he just fumed quietly to himself, waiting for the other god to arrive.
So here we are! I have no idea what Yavanna's grudge against El-Ahrairah is - the two ideas that spring to mind are the dramatic ('your dad is harassing me and you're not doing anything about it') and the ridiculous ('your rabbit ate my sapling'), but it could be anything. :) Scape, if you've got an idea, stick it in.
An idea I didn't slot into this opening is that the regular Monday market in the Parc Tolkien (it's a grassy area just off the town square) has been moved to the square, because the field has been taken over for Party in the Parc prep. I'll work it in later if an opportunity presents itself.
hS
A god, even a speedster god, can always be fashionably late.
El-Ahrairah declined to use his powers for this, though. Instead he simply sauntered into the Arboretum in a manner that implied "saunter" ought best be followed by "vaguely downwards". His boots crunched on the occasional dry, fallen leaf. His long, rangy limbs swung with a languid grace. And the silver ferrule of his swagger stick klik, klik, klik-ed along the ground, the four-four time of it audible even over the noise of his assembled hangers-on as they followed behind him like a carnival procession, or possibly a crusade.
On second thoughts, perhaps he had been using his powers after all.
The rabbit god stopped, holding up his cane as he did so. The followers stopped behind him, though they weren't stood still. Rabbits milled about among the crowds, hopping here and chewing on the Arboretum's lawn there.
"Yavanna!" His voice was electroswing, all brass and artifice. "My comrade in godhood! That it should come to this." He shook his head, amidst booing from the crowd; a tap of the stick silenced them. And how was it tapping with that echoing klik anyway? The ground was grassy and soft with dew. "What was even the cause of this war in Heaven? Rabbits harassing you? Perhaps one of my non-leporine worshippers ate one of your costumes in the mistaken belief it was a helping of broccoli? A hare in your soup, maybe?"
A dutiful laugh from the followers, mob-happy and showing teeth.
"But we know why this truly is, Yavanna. Why this must be." A wave of the cane silenced the crowd. "You know full well that the father of my mortal vessel, for all his noble qualities, has taken umbrage with our godhood. With all us gods. He heeds only his own counsel, and that of those who would enable him. Frith knows he heeds not reason." Another rolling laugh passed through the crowd, fake rabbit ears bobbing in mirth. "He seeks our ends, harvester. An end to divinity. And for all the gifts of the kind old Sun I have been given, I can no more control him than I can the sea. I wonder how your vessel's own father took your ascension? But only briefly, I assure you; Feanorians are beneath my notice."
The cane lashed out at the air, a stave on a blank page. "That it should come to this," El-Ahrairah said again. "That mortal bonds should sunder the unity of the divine. That mortal animus be rewarded so."
El-Ahrairah jerked forward, a lucky follower catching the sheath of his swordstick and nearly swooned from feeling a relic of the gods in her hand. The blade glittered in the light of the Arboretum, dappled leaf shadows dancing across the silver steel.
"I don't want to hurt you, Yavanna," he said, and now his tone was serious and sad. "And I am sorry that now I must."
((Arrives at the RP three weeks late with Starbucks))
Timefix: August 7th (4 days after Yavanna's concert; 5 days after the Council of the Gods; 2 days after the beginning of Rumors)
There were a truly surprising number of auditoriums in HQ. Sure, everybody knew about the Large Auditorium, the Small Auditorium, and the Really Very Tiny Auditorium, but there had to be at least half a dozen more. Gaia wasn't sure how many people had known about the Who Do You Think You Are, Apollo? Auditorium before this, but he was pretty sure it'd be all over HQ by the time they were done with it.
He walked over the truly impressive stage again, making sure it would be able to stand up to or recover from anything the new gods could throw at it. ... Well, anything they could throw at it accidentally, anyways. They could probably break anything if they tried hard enough. He then slipped into the backstage area, which somehow managed to be even more impressive than the stage. It was so well-stocked that he wouldn't be surprised if somebody could live in the rooms back here - or several somebodies, really. And as for performance gear, well... there were at least fifty different guitars, more drum sets than he could count, enough microphones for a modern World One army, pianos, violins, flutes, tubas, and - well, he could be there for at least an hour listing off the instruments there that weren't barely-known oddities from an oft-forgotten corner of a canon maybe three people knew. And the storage room for those was so big he was surprised he hadn't found some sort of instrument dragon hiding away there. ... Though that did give him an idea for later.
Not that musical equipment was all of it, oh no - costumes of all sorts, for anything from a boyband to a Shakespearean production (though how much difference was there, really?), props and set pieces for plays, magic equipment - not that he really thought any of them would be bothering with that, but hey, someone might be into it - puppets of various sorts, and some really odd stuff - he thought he might have seen the equipment to record a movie buried in one of those rooms. Honestly, he hadn't had time really get into everything - maybe he'd ask the Ellimist to retroactively tell him before anybody else got here, or something, but he didn't think it'd be that big a deal. He had checked the quality on everything here, and was pretty sure it'd all meet the standards of the other gods. And if it didn't, well, he was pretty sure they'd find a way to whip up anything needed.
Back out to the front again, this time to survey where the audience would be. This auditorium was definitely larger than the Large Auditorium, but how much, he couldn't say. Honestly, there might only be a hundred or so extra chairs relative to that one, and he might not notice, but the large, empty space, which would probably end up serving as a dance floor tonight unless literally all the gods chose something you couldn't really dance to, between the stage and the seats meant this auditorium could probably seat at least two thousand with the extra chairs that were stored there. He grinned, imagining what would come. Some might call it hubris. Some would reply that hubris is a concept for people who aren't gods. Some would say to that that, given the fluctuating numbers of PPC employees, how could he be sure there were two thousand or more people who could even attend? Some would answer by saying that anything is possible when you believe, and are also, you know, a god. Some would question how that answered anything. Some would ignore that question and continue fantasizing about the huge numbers their concert was going to pull. They were gods, after all - by the end of tonight, this room would be packed, he was certain of it.
He pulled out his... well, phone was the closest word, and checked the clock, then nodded to himself. He'd gotten it right this time - it was just about time for the other gods to show up. He'd arranged it so they'd get at least a bit of time to themselves, hopefully, to get ready for everything, clear up any problems, make sure that everything would run smoothly, and unless some of Yavanna's audience from last time were especially eager, they'd have the run of the place for a while. ... Or, well, that, or unless someone stumbled across the giant, multicolored jade construct he'd attached to the entryway to make sure nobody missed the place. That could also happen. But really, he was sure it'd be fine - now, it was just time to wait for the rest to arrive.
So, looks like I'll give this a go! As is probably obvious but I figure I'll say it anyways, this is intended to be a performance by several of the gods - and if everyone is interested in sliding in, I'd honestly be thrilled. As it stands, I'm thinking I'll leave this for at least a day or two, to make sure everybody's gotten a chance to have their god show up and mark their place, before the show properly starts.
I'm somewhat tentatively setting the date to August 7th - I think that ought to work as a relatively early point in the month, and is early enough that it's possible that nobody else has performed yet, though I'm definitely not definitively positioning this as everyone but Yavanna's first performance, and gives it enough time after Yavanna's concert for word to have really spread, and enough time after the Council for everyone who heard about it there to have time to design their performances.
For performance order... well, I'm open to suggestions if this doesn't sound like it will work, but otherwise, I'm going to say, for at least an idea of how we'll kick things off, that I'd appreciate it if everyone could say if they'd rather perform towards the beginning, middle, or end. When things properly kick off, I'll randomly pick someone who's interested in performing towards the beginning to start us off, which will be in this section under the actual beginning. If you're willing to be in that pool, please make sure you can have a decent expectation of posting a performance within twenty-four hours of the kick-off going up. If you're pretty sure you'll be able to do that and something changes, just send me a message (preferably over Discord, though I'll try and check my email) or edit your post - I'll double-check everyone's preferences before the kick-off to make sure I've got a good idea of when everyone wants to go. Once the kick-off is up, if you've got a specific spot you'd like, feel free to message me if there's a specific slot you'd like, though that will be first-come, first-served.
As another note, if anybody has any ideas for interesting things they'd like to go down during their performances, go ahead and swing those by each other and/or me - as long as however it's done doesn't start to slow down the train, I certainly have no objections. And while I'm thinking about the substance of the performances, consider the technology sufficiently advanced enough and the magic dramatic enough that you can include whatever special effects you want, and it can easily be assumed that any preparations were done during the shifts between gods.
And speaking of the shifts! This RP is also open to anybody who isn't playing a god. There will be enough time between performances for conversations to happen and such, which for the moment I'm thinking will happen in sub-sub-threads. It's also definitely possible for the gods to wander through the crowd when they're not on stage - Gaia almost certainly will be, when he's not making sure everything's running smoothly!
Alright. That's all the notes I can think of for now, so let's see what happens from here!
Her eyes flitted briefly over all the equipment, never giving anything a second glance. Toys and props were not what she needed. Tash needed a display of the power that was truly within her. She needed—
The voices of her colleagues drifted in from beyond the curtains. She turned her head to listen, but was immediately distracted by what she saw at the edge of the stage. She stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, listening to the winds she could feel whispering inside, the grains collected from many strange deserts on many strange worlds. She stooped down and picked up one of the simple sandbags from the pile, hearing the sand shifting inside. "Yes . . ." she hissed to herself, as she lifted her other hand. She coaxed, and a bit of sand flowed from the cinched top and into the air, into the shape of a delicate butterfly, so thin that one could see straight through it. Tash moved her fingers and puppeted the sand butterfly around herself in a circle, making it flap its wings like the real thing. She made it soar up into the air, higher and higher, straining to reach the spotlight rafters above.
Before the butterfly could reach that far, Tash turned her hand upside down and drew her fingers downwards. The butterfly twitched for a moment, then began to drop, wings beating feebly, uselessly, against the air. Its wings became ragged as sand began to drift away from the form, and fell off completely midway down. By the time it reached the floor, it was as individual grains, all shape lost.
Tash hoisted herself up on a convenient barrel and stared out into the shadows. She was content to wait.
~ ~ ~
Hope no one minds me starting another thread here? Couldn't think of another way to get Tash into the scene. Anyone else can feel free to come across her and talk!
—doctorlit, a power converter at Tash-y station
A small, dark shape made its way through the maze of props, almost invisible in the gloom. It flitted back and forth over the props, one second stilled in contemplation and the next in motion. When it passed through patches of better lighting that managed to reach through the precariously placed props, flashes of red drew the eye of anyone watching close enough, perhaps enough to make out the shape of a bird's plumed tail..
As another god joined the growing gathering, Pommi metaphorically stumbled across Tash and, since it was polite, greeted her.
"Hello, Tash,"
I figured the conversation would be interesting. :3
What no this isn't me off handedly mentioning Lady Kee'ra because I didn't know how to add her to the other thread in case anyone wanted to converse with her.
I mean, if someone wants to address Lady Kee'ra in the other thread, they can.
~Silv, glad she found a way to contribute to the rp again
"Greetings, little servant. Thou hast strayed from your god, I see. Will thou not be joining her in performing for the mortals?"
((I know absolutely nothing about Miraculous Ladybug, so if I'm getting anything wrong, let me know, and I'll edit!))
((And sorry for the long response time; had a bunch of computer work to do for the zoo last night.))
—doctorlit
[[Edited to correct "Miraculous" to "kwami" in the subject line.]]
then gestured to the piles of stuff scattered around. "Marya- Lady Kee'ra asked me to look around first."
She turned around in the air as if to continue her search but hesitated, bobbing slightly as she did so.
Miraculous are the magic jewelry, kwami/s are the sprites attached to them. I thought I was being clear, but looking back I get how it could be confusing trying to figure that out from what I've posted so far.
~Silv, wanting to retroactively change that despite how it wouldn't help anything
Seeing her hesitation, Tash asked, "What seek thou? My preparations were swift, and I may be able to assist you."
((I've been playing Tash as fairly aloof and uncaring, but that wouldn't be much fun to RP the whole time . . . I think I'll let a little more of Ilcharheen slip back in, at least for now!))
((I fixed my error re: kwami in my earlier post. It wasn't your fault; I just don't know the canon is all. : ) ))
—doctorlit, squeezing in a post just before bed time
Pommi admitted. "But I should know when I see it."
Tash hopped back down from the convenient barrel and shook out her robes. "It is a vast space, with much to see. You may lead the way, as I do not know the mind of the god you serve, nor what she seeks."
—doctorlit
before realization sank in. "Oh, no, she doesn't know yet either. I can sort of..." There was a slight pause, though what it was borne of was difficult to tell. "...create information paradoxes. So she asked me to find something for her performance."
"Interesting . . ." she said slowly. "Some mortals can be most interesting, indeed. Very well. Let us explore for the sake of exploration, and let the shadows here reveal what they may."
~ ~ ~
((I hope I'm not being railroady or anything? If you would rather they just talk here, that's fine, too. I kind of assumed you wanted to go looking for stuff . . . Sorry if I'm mistaken!))
—doctorlit
((I apologize for interrupting, I just figured I should note that yes, hello! I am still watching the thread and, if people are still interested, have every intend of giving things a kick in the near future once it doesn't seem like life is trying to drown me.))
It's been wildly hectic over here, so I haven't been able to do... well, anything. I promise I will when I get everything back together.
hS
I'm still keeping an eye on this, too. I just started a new part-time job in addition to my current job-and-a-half, so I'm going to be busier than I was, but I'm sure I can still get a post in now and then. {= )
(I'm basically getting paid to solve language puzzles now. I can technically call myself a linguist, since it's part of my job title. I have been training my whole life for this. {= D )
I hope everything's all right with you folks and your families.
~Neshomeh
((School has been hectic. I'll try and find time, I promise, to play with Lucian. I'm already planning to hint at this in my second mission. But, either way, I'm so sorry about school. I promise I'll try and be on more often.))
and dipped her head in greeting, the stone on her head winking in the light. "Ambitious, are we?" she said with a grin. "I should've guessed, you seem a happy-natured sort. I'm glad of it." She smiled and stretched out on the stage, as if the spotlight were a sunbeam. "I haven't performed yet, myself... you know how it is, I'm sure. Not wanting to take someone's spot, and everything. And, well..." she trailed off. When the silence stretched on further, she closed her eyes for a moment. "But enough about me! I came to wish you luck. And to watch, if that's alright."
"I'd give you some line about how, 'Oh, you know, it's not just me performing, I want to make sure there's extra room just in case,' that sort of thing, but I've heard people talking about Yavanna's concert and I know a lot of them want more, so they'll show up to get another chance to hear him if he comes, or just for some more divine music, and they have partners and friends and everything, and I know a couple of people who know a lot of people, so yeah - I don't think there's gonna be that much trouble filling this place up." He shifted a bit, making sure he could keep an eye on the doors so he'd see when anybody else walked through them. "And if you do decide you'd like to give it a go tonight, just let me know - I've made sure we've got room for a couple of surprises without going over, and I don't think anyone's going to complain if we do, anyways. While I'm thinkin' about it, don't worry about instruments or anything like that, either - there's gotta be something you can work with in the back. I saw a piano-sorta thing made specifically for a toucan. Not just any bird, specifically a toucan. With instructions on where to find the same kind of thing for other birds. There'll be something you can use back there. Not that I want to make you, or anything, just figure I should mention, since I get where you're coming from and figure you might also be worried about add-ons."
He shifted a bit in place, and Stone could probably tell that, even though most of the excess energy had been channeled into planning and talking and building and practicing, he was positively buzzing with excitement. "The luck is appreciated - it means a lot from a god, and I bet everyone else'll like it, too. And as for watching, of course you can! I made sure to reserve enough front row seats for all of us and our partners and then some, 'cause I know some of us will probably have families who want to be here and everything. We'll all be able to be up here -" he pointed to the floor right in front of the stage, "- for any of us with really intense stuff, too. Sure, there might be a bit of bumping and stuff, but I'm gonna make sure we've got the best spots to watch from, whatever I've gotta do to make that happen."
Yavanna strolled in from backstage, tossing a couple of what looked to be hazelnuts from one hand to another. "I don't know how you advertised this gig, but it really worked."
He flicked one of the nuts into a corner and crossed to sit on the edge of the stage beside the other two. "It's almost hard to believe," he said, looking out over the ranks of chairs. "It's only been a week, and we're expecting to fill this... give it two years, and we could-"
He cut off, grimacing, and there was a cracking noise from the direction of the abandoned hazelnut. "Well, anyway," Yavanna said. "I've got a few new ideas, so I'm really looking forward to this - assuming there's room in the program for me?"
There was another crack, and he glanced over to where a small hazel bush was industriously pushing up through the generic surface. "Ah," he said. "Oops. Let me just get that..."
Happy to go first if you don't find anyone else who wants to. And I'm really hoping some of the others show up! :)
hS
"Already?" he asked, after taking a moment to process who he was talking to - how had he missed him coming in? Ah, well, things happened. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was pretty sure we were gonna get pretty full, but I wasn't expecting people to be in a huge line or anything yet. And as for how I got the word out - I mean, you've got to have heard some of your fans talking about your thing a few days ago, right? Plus, I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a lot of guys." He laughed a little at that, apparently amused at himself, which was a most un-godly thing to be.
"Oh, and we've definitely got room for you! There's, well - " he reached into a pocket for the not-quite-a-phone and began messing with it. "I mean, if all of us showed up - I'm pretty sure the one of us I haven't run into yet, the one with the bird symbol who isn't Tash, knows about it too - I've made sure nobody'll have to be left out. And it'd be great to have you, really! Pretty sure there'll be some of your fans in the crowd tonight, and it'll be good to give 'em what they're hoping for."
He let Yavanna handle the bush, figuring it probably wouldn't be a good idea to accidentally shove miracles into each other, but said when he was finished, "You know, I coulda taken care of that for you." He peered curiously at the hazelnuts and asked, "Are those something you've got up your sleeve for the show?"
Ah, thank you! I'll make sure to remember that when it's time. And so am I! I think that the more gods there are and the more ways things can explode, the more fun this will be - I'm hoping to maybe get half of us on board, but, well, life and variable attraction to different subthreads (which is not a condemnation, to be clear to any and all other people listening) is a thing. :P (I definitely wouldn't mind more than half showing up, though. Just trying to set a bar to hope.)
"I think I'll sit this one out, actually." She examined Gaia and Yavanna with a tilted head. "I don't know how well what I do would work with yours... and I don't know, I might try to do something smaller to start out with. Besides, I haven't gotten to see any performances yet. You guys will do great. She smiled. "I better find someplace quiet to watch things from- wouldn't want to steal the spotlight."
Gaia ran his eyes over the room, then pointed to one set of chairs nestled near a little alcove. "If you don't want one of the front row seats, though those're still open, you could try over there? Or you could probably find another place if you wanted." He smiled back at her. "Thanks for coming and watching. And if you do change your mind - not sayin' you have to, or anything, just letting you know - come and talk to me and I can work you in. No pressure if you don't, though."
Enter the Ellimist, stage left.
He jogged across the stage to join the others and gave them all a polite hello, briefly holding Yavanna's eye before turning to address Gaia. "Do you know how huge this place is? It's like a labyrinth! There could even be a minotaur; I'm sure I heard roaring." He grinned. "I hope nobody gets lost."
I was hoping some sort of Opportune Moment would present itself, but I decided I'd better just make one instead. {= )
I'm thinking the Ellimist and Gaia probably talked ahead of time at least a bit about the plan for the Ellimist to sort of MC or otherwise fill in the gaps between other performances... though if there aren't enough other performers for there to be many gaps, I guess he could just do something more "normal" instead. It has literally just now struck me that he might have an affinity for strings, if he were to just pick something up and miracle himself knowing how to play it.
I'm pretty sure he's kidding about the minotaur, but since it's the PPC, you never know!
~Neshomeh
He almost stumbled on the name - almost. It was, for some reason, incredibly tempting to use Elly as a nickname for him, and he really couldn't say why. "A minotaur, huh? Well..." He thought about it for a minute, then shook his head. "I don't think I saw one back there, but could be - I definitely didn't have time to explore everything with all the setting-up to do. Though..." He glanced backstage, and frowned. "You know, someone could get lost back there... Eh, I'll set something up before the show starts to lead 'em out. So - you're in, right?"
Ah, the perils of doing this on the Board - people have lives and stuff and thus things proceed just a bit more slowly than they might otherwise. :P
Aye, that makes sense. I'm guessing either the Ellimist volunteered, or Gaia was a bit worried about the logistics of getting whoever was doing the... intermissions, I suppose, on and off the stage quickly, then figured, "Oh, hey! I'll ask the guy with time powers to do that because he can probably set things up and break them down in about two seconds."
He is kidding unless and until there comes a point at which a minotaur (which may or may not actually be perfectly friendly) bursting into the auditorium becomes desired? :P
Timefix: August 5th (2 days after Yavanna's concert)
Have you heard?
There's a rumour in the PPC!
Have you heard?
What they're saying in HQ!
Agent Kaitlyn (Department of Floaters, but in her heart really DCPS) looked up from her drink. "Oh hey, this sounds fun!"
"It won't be," Selene predicted, swirling her own glass. "That's Kayleigh and bjam; when was the last time Team Morale Officer did anything actually fun?"
"On their behalf: ouch," Kaitlyn said, pressing a hand to her chest. "They do their best."
"I'm sure they do."
Amongst the Sues and agents grim
Something all-new has entered in:
The gods now walk among us...!
To sing their songs to you!
"See?" Selene flicked a hand at Kayleigh, who was now dancing on the table. "It's just a self-referential meta-filk."
"But kind of bouncy," Kaitlyn said, bopping her head. "Come on, this is a bit fun."
"It's really not."
They're a rumour,
A legend,
A mystery!
Something whispered in the corridors
Or on I-CEP.
"It's not even a very good filk," Selene grouched. "You can't stand on a table and shout about how nobody's heard of you."
"I'm not... sure..." Kaitlyn turned in her chair and watched the pair. "I don't think this is about them. I think I've heard the same rumours."
Selene blinked. "What?"
They're a rumour
From out of deep history!
They say they can work miracles
And have you heard their song?
A feel-great program in a single step!
"That's right!" Kaitlyn jumped up, knocking her chair over. "There's meant to be these singer-deities who've just reappeared in HQ after ninety years!"
Selene stared at her. "But the PPC's only-"
"And when they sing it's like... well, I don't know what it's like," Kaitlyn admitted, "but I want to!"
"There hasn't been a PPC for ninety-" Selene tried again.
Kaitlyn drained her drink dry and beamed at her partner. "I'm gonna go find out more," she said. "You coming?"
"No, I'll just-" Selene began, but Kaitlyn was already running off across the cafeteria. The vampire stared after her, then laid her head down on the table with a thunk. "And to think," she told her half-full glass, "this started out such a normal day..."
This is not intended to interrupt any ongoing RPs (such as the Council), or to say that nothing else can happen before the 5th. I'm just opening up the options... this micro-RP is not expected to feature the gods themselves, but rather the rest of HQ gossiping about them. What have they heard? I have no idea!
Anyone can participate, whether they're also writing a god or not. It's been generally agreed that we shouldn't reference a god's performance until their author has written or described at least one. So feel free to talk about Yavanna's concert(s, possibly?), but no others - unless you're that god's writer! If you don't want to actually write a performance, this is an opportunity to get even a vague idea down on paper.
Kayleigh and bjam are here to be interacted with if you want, but you can also just strike up conversations elsewhere in the cafeteria. :)
hS
"All right! Spread out and search for clues."
Anne sighed. "This isn't Scooby-Doo, Numbuh 3721. We're just here to eavesdrop on the grown-ups. One of them is bound to have heard something."
Numbuh 3721 humphed. "I thought you knew better than to expect adults to be useful."
Anne started to reply, but then looked down and saw Alfajiri's ears drooping and his posture even more hunched than usual. She reached down and put an arm around him, scratching gently at his neck. "It's all right, Alfa. We'll figure this out. Ilcharheen will be okay."
"I hope so . . ." he mumbled.
The girls and the hyena spread out through the cafeteria and started to listen in on what the grown-ups were saying . . .
~ ~ ~
((Continuing on from here, if anyone wants to be overheard, reply here!))
—doctorlit, dragging this RP on as best he can
There was a single Flareon in the cafeteria. In the absence of any other small woodland mammals trying to chat her up and be gently let down because her heart belonged to Drakie, whoever that was, she simply sat and drank. Her eyes were bloodshot and her ears folded down. Close inspection revealed that they were in fact covered with three layers of thick woolly socks (stolen from the armoire of a Manipulative!Dumbledore), and that these were in fact covering some seriously heavy-duty concert earplugs. Attempting to remove the socks, however, would result in said close inspector getting set on fire.
It had been exactly forty-three hours and thirty-seven minutes since the end of the concert.
It had been exactly sixty-two hours and twenty-nine minutes since the Flareon had last been asleep.
She was oblivious to the singing. Instead, clinging frantically to her last nerve, padded up to the counter and left a message saying "just leave the bottle" written in shaky crayon on the back of a placemat. She then trudged back with her bottle safely stowed in her wicker carrying hamper, and it painted a sad and lonely picture of one adorable fluffy Pokémon's downward spiral into the inviting but dangerous embrace of the bottle.
Or it would have done had the bottle not contained choccy milk.
Doktor Trollenfisch, meanwhile, was still playing Yavanna's songs. He hadn't quite noticed where Gabrielle had gone. There was only the music, and the music had to be played. And so he parped, and parped, and thricewise parped, a song of the earth and growing things oompahing out into the hallways at volumes that would stun a charging wildebeest.
Such was the power of miracles.
"So, there was this concert in the Small Auditorium, and I showed up because I didn't really have much else to do and didn't want to get back to work, y'know? And I thought at first it was some kid, but no, literal god.
"Seriously.
"Yavanna's song was just miraculously good. It was like the forests were being pulled into the room. I'm hoping there's, like, more of that, because I want to hear it again."
Tequila Sunrise leant in, eyes wide. "What, like, actual Yavanna? I know we've got a couple of Maiar floating around, but... a Vala, in HQ?"
She paused as a thought struck her. "I just hope she stays away from my department," she said fervently. "I dread to think how the presence of one of his gods would affect Tolkien's spinning; could do terrible things to the generators."
"Like, either that or someone with some serious power is impersonating a god. I didn't get a CAD scan or anything. He did say something about a pantheon and a recurrence, so maybe there'll be more like him."
"What's all this got to do with the generators?"
"My first thought on anything is 'how does this affect the generators?'." Tequila shrugged one shoulder. "Or possibly 'how am I going to get sarcasm'd at for this when Cal finds out?'. Swings and roundabouts. But as long as she stays away from Tolkien's linkup, we should be fine."
She paused, frowned at Farah. "But wait - you said he?"
Timefix: 2 August 2020
"Once again, we return."
Each of the gods had received an invite to the gathering. Not all had responded - some had no interest in their fellows, some found more interesting things to do, some found themselves unavoidably detained.
Those who attended found a large circular table, each of its twelve chairs ("thrones" would be too grandiose a word, though a couple did appear to be Galactic Tyrant-brand Executive Pivoting Helium-Cushioned Mobile Thrones of Glory) marked with the symbol of a god. Ananke stood by the door, greeting each of them as they arrived. When all had settled into place, she walked slowly around the table and began to speak.
"Children," she said, a smile creasing her lips, "welcome to the Recurrence. By now you have all come to know who you truly are, and to remember the things you can do. This is well and good - you are the gods, and your powers are your right and privilege."
Her blue eyes darkened a little behind her veil, as if shadowed by past memories. "But be cautious in the miracles you share. Even in this place," she flicked a hand, taking in the whole of HQ, "mortals are fragile beings. The divine should not toy with the lives of the earthly, even if - or should I say, when - they reject and resent you.
"You will be hated. You will be loved. But most of all," the smile flashed across her face again, "you will be brilliant. And I am here to serve you. Simply ask, and I will share with you all that I know. For you are the children, and I am Ananke, and this is how it has always been."
There she is at last - trouble Necessity herself. I'm actually really pleased with how her portrait turned out.
This is after all the ascensions, but before Yavanna's concert. The gods are currently known mostly to whoever's run into them, and their musical powers are essentially unknown.
If it comes up, the circle image is the seating plan in the chamber. So Yavanna, for instance, is between the Ellimist and the Raven Queen.
I'll kick-start the RP - Yavanna has something to say - but after that go nuts. The gods can talk to each other (though wait until someone is known to be there), or to Ananke. Feel free to write her responses yourself if you want, but I'll also be around to answer questions in-character.
One note about the setup that I should get out of the way, intended solely for those who've read/looked up The Wicked + The Divine: Spoiler mostly for the end of this event.
If anyone needs to know more about why all of this is happening (looking at your investigation, Scape, which I think is brilliant by the way), feel free to drop me an email. I can provide spoilers for either WikDiv or this event, but obviously prefer not to do so here!
hS
As the first of the gods to return, he felt a certain pressure to take the lead - and besides, he had a question burning inside him. "Ananke: thank you. You found me," he turned to gesture at the rest of the Pantheon, "found all of us, and showed us our truth. I feel my roots delve into millennia gone by, and across all the worlds, bearing back to me their life and love.
"And through them, I feel another impulse, a need that ripens in me like the harvest." He leant forward on the table, and in his face was all the fervent honesty of a thirteen-year-old with a conviction. "I want to sing, Ananke. I've never felt that before; that was my father's..." Yavanna shook his head, driving the thought away. "I need to sing, and I know I'm not the only one who's felt it."
Ananke nodded. "This is your purpose," she said, "the purpose of the Recurrence. For two years, you will inspire the mortals of this," her eyes flickered for a moment, "P-P-C. You will uplift them, teach them, each in your own way, and the work you do will guide them through the next ninety years." She continued her slow circling, her hand brushing over the back of each chair. "So sing, children - or dance, or perform however pleases you - that those who hear will remember you until we return once again."
So this is the core premise: the gods want, arguably need to perform. I'm not saying everyone has to write performances, but I think it's safe to act as though all the gods are performing.
If you do write one, there's no set style. I've done the 1-2-3-4 thing, but you can do whatever pleases you. :) (And if you want to see a performance of your god but don't want to write one, I Volunteer As Tribute. Just ask!)
On which note: I'm planning micro-RPs where other people can join in too. Do you think it would be fair for people to describe unseen performances by the gods, in the context of fans discussing them? (Eg 'nah, I've seen Tash, she doesn't eat people on stage - that'd be kiddy stuff next to what she's actually like!') I don't want to promote toe-stepping, but equally, I want it to feel like all the gods are involved, rather than just the ones whose authors have the time to really get into it.
hS
El-Ahrairah looked around at the Pantheon, or at least, those that were present. He didn't recognize any of them - at least, not in terms of who they had been. Nor did he entirely recognize their symbols. The skinny lad in the wooden crown was the only god to speak thus far, and from his modes of dress and speech El-Ahrairah presumed him to be some manner of harvest deity. Or perhaps her, rather than him; he dimly recalled from some of his previous recurrences that the gender of the divine did not necessarily match the gender of their mortal body. He'd lucked out in that regard; his form was male, and given that there were so many genders and gender expressions to choose from in the mortal realm, he counted that as an early success. He'd counted at least six, and that was just among the human populace; other species might have who knew how many more.
It was going to be fun finding out.
Still, he had some questions, and so he stood, placing the First Rabbit on the table where it could hop around freely and snack on a banana chip. "My lady Ananke. For all that this is a great privilege and honour to be part of a court of my divine equals," he said, indicating the assembled gods and goddesses with a sweep of his cane, "there are thoughts that trouble me. To properly express them, and make them plain, I must talk about my mortal form's origins. I do hope that this is not... upsetting for anyone.
"My mortal host, or previous life, or however you wish to call it, was not born, at least not in the conventional sense. Agamemnon Wymbourne was a half-Suvian bit from an obscure canon, created to be a comically cheerful child and dutiful son for the being that spawned him from mere aether. He was not born, but made, as one might a golem or other such idol. How then can he have been my reincarnation? The lines of species, of birth and death, I... forgive me, my good lady, for I seek only to understand. How did I rejoin the world? How did we all? And how, if you will forgive a young buck's impudence, did you?"
He looked into Ananke's eyes, so blue, so very blue. The First Rabbit hopped over to him and nuzzled at his hand, and his gaze was broken before whatever thought had been brewing in his subconscious could come to mind.
welp, here be scape askin the tricky questions. it's no fun if you don't make the dm think. =]
Thank you for your kind words about the subplot with Algie and Lola, by the way. I wanted to do mortals investigating the Pantheon and their powers, and since I've got a DIA agent with skin in the game, it seemed a logical choice. I'm glad it's fitted in well with what you had planned. =]
Ananke paused for a moment, considering. "Perhaps there are some who could, indeed; but those whose domain is mystery oft keep their own counsel.
"All I can tell you is what I have said so many times before. Every ninety years, twelve gods return. How you choose your... hosts, and how you choose who will appear in each Recurrence, I know not. Some gods appear time and again; others return but once, then remain aloof.
"From what your prior incarnations have told me, the near-century between Recurrences is but a moment for you; your reunions with one another are as with a friend you parted from the day before. For me," the shadow touched her eyes again, "it has been many long years since last I saw you. I have missed you," she added, her voice growing hoarse.
Across the table from El-Ahrairah, Yavanna half-raised a hand, but Ananke waved him down. "You would tell me I have not answered all his questions," she acknowledged. "You have always been one to keep me honest, Queen of the Harvest, just as you," she nodded at El-Ahrairah, "have always been... impudent, you said? Yes, let it stand." She came to a halt, hands behind her back. "I am Ananke. Of necessity, long ago I surrendered the spark of divinity to become your servant. I find you, I reveal you to yourselves, I guide you, and I mourn you when you are gone." She took hold of her veil and drew it back, until only a slender black mask concealed her face. "But this is no time for mourning - this is a time of miracles, and I rejoice that it has come again."
No comments from me; it's a perfectly good question. :)
hS
She had taken off her mask, setting it upon the table face-up - it felt prudent to, with just the company of new-old friends - and was turning one of her knives over in her hands as though they needed to be kept busy.
A small, cartoonishly proportioned being sat upon the mask. Wise red eyes, made striking against the black of her body, peered at those present. It was hard to tell who of the two had been fashioned after the other, if that was the case at all.
When El-Ahrairah took again his seat, she in turn rose.
Setting the knife aside, Lady Kee'ra bowed her head in respect to the others and Ananke. "Thank you for bringing us together, and I have missed you. I would be remiss not to speak: my friend in this life-" she gestured to the being sitting upon her mask "-is gifted with the foresight of what could be, and with my new gifts has been troubled with foreboding."
She tilted her head a bit, as if trying to remember something specific. "Nothing concrete, mind. The future is a fickle thing, not that I would know first hand. But I trust her judgment implicitly."
:DDDD
He glanced to his right, then leant forward across the table. "What do you know?" he asked. "Have you seen--?"
Once again, Ananke stilled him with an upraised hand. "It is as you say, Lady Kee'ra," she said. "The future is not a simple matter even for mortals. For you children, whose purpose it is to shape that future, knowing it is almost impossible."
She held up both hands, her dark silhouette an image of balance. "Many times have your predecessors fought amongst themselves, or struggled against their destiny. Some have interfered in mortal affairs, even turned their powers against those they were meant to inspire." One hand lowered, and the shadows around her seemed to thicken. "Down that road miracles become madness, and songs become screams."
She let the moment hang, and then smiled, raising her hand once more. "But others - many - hold true to their purpose. They sing, they teach, they shine like a star in the world - and, when the time comes, they pass joyfully on to the next Recurrance."
I apologise for Yavanna always getting a word in - I only have one god to play with, so if I need to add something, he's the one who has to do it. :)
hS
He had, to his embarrassment, been tuning out a little - he was rather excited to see his fellow gods, but was a bit disappointed that so far, the meeting had been more... serious, he supposed, than he was expecting. But he also had a serious question, so he might as well try and get it out of the way.
"So," he began, when the girl of feathers and flame had sat, then realized he should probably stick with the formalities. Hastily, he stopped fidgeting with his hair and stood - not accompanied, for the moment, by the clunk of metal on... well, observant as ever, he'd forgotten what the floor was made of, but it didn't really matter, as he'd set those boots aside. "Sorry - So, I've actually got something for the rest of us, but Ananke, I've got something I'm supposed to ask you," he said, in a tone that made it clear just how pointless he thought his question was. "You keep mentioning the end of this Recurrence - is the time limit some sort of prophecy deal, or some magical restriction, or because of the limits of these bodies, or what?"
And, while I'm thinking about it - for my part, I'm fine with Gaia's performances being referenced by fans and such in later conversations. I'd rather that wait until I write out his first concert, since I want to be sure I've a handle on how I want his music to go - I do have a good idea, I just like to be certain - but after that, do as much or as little as you please. I'd say this should probably be an opt-in sort of thing, instead of the sort of yes/no vote you seemed to be proposing, but then again, I could easily be misreading the tone and such there.
"Well, it's... it is the limits of..." She paused, composed her expression into something suitably grave. "My apologies; it has been so long, I forgot that you would not recall... these mortal bodies are not made for the truth of your divinity. When you accepted who you truly were, you became more than they can contain. Believe me," and a tear glittered in her eye, "were it in my power, I would see you live on in the fullness of your glory. But that is not the way of things. The brightest candles are soonest exhausted, and must rest and recover until you next return."
Yeah, sorry, I misphrased when I asked about that. My intent was that each person could say 'oh yeah, I'm fine with that', or 'no, only reference stuff I've written', or indeed, 'wait until I've done one to refer back to'. :)
hS
Kord had been silent until now, bouncing in his seat as he listened to the others speak. But now he spoke up. "Isn't there a way for us to not be gods? I mean, I only had, like, another five years or so left, so two isn't that big a deal for me, but what about all the rest of them? Two years is barely anything for a human, and nothing for an Elf..."
"Do not diminish your sacrifice." she commanded. "No matter how many years you are giving up, you have still suffered a great loss, and you have every right to feel fear and despair." She turned back to Ananke.
"I am also interested in hearing this. We need to know what sacrifices are necessary, and what we can accomplish. What can be given and what choices we have."
"Would you ask if you can 'not be' a cat? Or 'not be' a kind, or generous, or bold person?" Ananke spread her hands again. "This is your nature - you know this in your hearts to be true. All I have done is reveal it to you."
Her expression shifted, beseeching. "I beg you, children - do not view this as a sacrifice. You will do glorious things, beyond the power of mortals - and when to their eyes you die, you know that you will merely depart for a time, to return once again.
All the WikDiv gods know that they are gods. Not 'have been given the power of' or any such: they are gods. Even if they don't want to be. I also don't remember any of them getting particularly angsty about the two-year thing, at least until it was a lot closer.
I know what you two are doing. :P I'm not going to say you can't play that card, but I'd ask that you save it for the last days of the month (in-universe). The revocation of godhood will involve personal visits by Ananke, so you could even use it there if you so chose.
hS
She sat with both feet in her chair, shoulders and neck stooped forward, hands clutched in a clawing motion on the table, as though prepared to pounce at a moment's notice. Her head swung slowly from side to side, taking in the faces of those gods present.
"The end must come. But the time before that is where the ending art earned. The end comes, but which end? That is the choice thou all hast to make."
—doctorlit, hoping Tash doesn't sound too much like the Ninth Doctor
Mary Poppins politely raised a hand, tail folded neatly over his lap and umbrella resting against the side of his chair.
"If we stay too long, we risk becoming no longer interesting to others. What once was magical and mystical will, over time, become dull and normal, so it does make some sense that we... leave before then."
"Oh, come on, guys," he said. "You're just gonna sit back and let two years be the end? We're gods. Our power is literally beyond measure, and at least some of us have access to all of our memories from before. This place is filled with incredible magic and technology that would dazzle Autochthon. If nothing else works, we can find links to other gods and get a few extra hands to help out. Besides, if it's just these bodies not being strong enough that's the problem, well." He grinned, and the ground shivered slightly - was he doing something, or was it just in anticipation of what that grin promised? "Fixing that sort of problem is my specialty. And that brings up the real question I wanted to ask, now that the boring one is out of the way. My name is Gaia. I'm from Exalted, and I am the Primordial of Growth. Who are all of you guys?"
Quick addition/question for HS: At this point, would the notice for Yavanna's concert have been posted? I might have an idea for a thing.
The poster can certainly have been posted by this point. I imagined it as a pretty short timer, but didn't specify so as to let people make use of it if they want. :)
hS
Now that she had shared what she intended to, her ability to stay serious and entirely composed was waning. She'd started playing with her dagger again to control the excess energy, but perhaps she didn't have to. Yavanna and El-Ahrairah were formal, but Tash seemed not to care for presentation, Gaia was quite casual, and Mary Poppins had a quiet sense of whimsy.
Perhaps she simply needed to be, and let the chips fall where they would.
"I'm Lady Kee'ra, from Ace Attorney." She glanced around, slightly uncertain. "I must be divine to be here at all, but it's... complicated. Suffice to say I am a warrior and guardian of the fruit of my sister's labor." She gestured at the sprite sitting on her mask. "And this is Pommi, a kwami from Miraculous Ladybug."
"I am honoured to make your collective acquaintances," El-Ahrairah said. "I am El-Ahrairah, digger, runner, listener, Prince with the Swift Warning. Perhaps not quite as... glamorous as a Vala or a Primordial, but I flatter myself that I can get by with what I have. I mean to say," and he smiled, wide and handsome and utterly confident, "as far as I am aware, nobody else came back with a pet."
He indicated the First Rabbit, which was curled up asleep on an empty chair. It looked up, yawned, hopped back onto the table, and had a brief sniff at Yavanna's robe sleeve before discovering that they were not in fact lettuce. Thus chastened and disappointed by the cruelties of the mortal realm, it flopped its ears and flounced off back to El-Ahrairah's side.
"As for my domains, well, unlike the lady Kee'ra, flower of the skies, I'm a lover, not a fighter. Yes, the rabbit god gets that manner of powers, were you really expecting otherwise? But that is secondary. I can perceive tremors through the ground, I have preternaturally keen senses, but my primary domain is swiftness. I am your humble Hermes, my lords and ladies. Such are my miracles; they suit me more than song, I must confess. My singing voice was once described as like a sad chicken attempting to yodel whilst being violently shaken. I wonder if that's changed... but later. It is a great privilege to meet you all, and it is my fervent hope that we become friends over these next years."
He bowed, and looked down, and something itched at the corners of his mind. He could not rightly say what; it was evading his mind's grasp as soon as he had a handle on it. It felt like trying to nail mist to a glass door. He twitched an ear and tried to put it out of his mind. Whatever it was, he had two years. It'd keep.
For those wondering why El-Ahrairah seems entirely blasé about the prospect of dying in two years, well, part of Frith's promise - which is the source of El-Ahrairah's power - was that if he was cunning and full of tricks then his people would never be destroyed. He's also kind of arrogant and too clever by half, so he thinks that whatever happens, well, he'll figure out a clever plan and keep on going.
"Yavanna, Valië of the forests and fields, the peaks and p..." Yavanna frowned, searching for a word, then shrugged. "Of all growing things," he went on, nodding at Gaia, "at least in the traditional sense. Er, from Arda - that's Middle-earth, if you don't know."
With just a hint of Feanorian arrogance there. :)
Granz - given that the consolidated version of the event doesn't have explanatory notes, thank you for suggesting introductions! It's perfect.
hS
“I love Middle-earth! My friend Dawn and I had so ma—” Kord cut off, smiling sheepishly, and cleared his throat. Lighting crackled in his hair. “Sorry. Uh, hi, guys! I’m Kord, god of storms and lord of battle. Which is totally fine by me since I was a Luxray before.”
He glanced around at the other gods in turn, wondering what their lives had been like before all this godly business had started.
But did it matter? Ananke had drawn back the veil for them. There was no going back, only moving forward.
In one respect, he had just showed up, but equally, once he arrived, he had been there from the start. He looked like—well, "Kylo Ren's Force ghost" had been a fair assessment. To all appearances, he was about seventeen, nearly six feet tall and just starting to fill out in proportion to his height. The padded shoulders of his robe helped the impression. He looked around the table, the faint luminosity of his blue skin doing nothing to lighten the frown on his long face.
"I'm the Ellimist," he said. "You might know about my long struggle against Crayak, or my work with the Animorphs in the Andalite-Yeerk war. I am the Transcendental Presence." He nodded to Ananke in thanks for the title, which was really fun to say. "My gift is to be in the Right Place at the Right Time. I've been called the 'great meddler', but my way isn't to change things myself, it's to give others a fair chance at making the best choices for themselves. And, while it's my turn, I just want to say a few things."
He paused and took a couple breaths. This public speaking thing was hard. Fortunately, the words seemed to come to him as though he'd already spoken them, and he sounded pretty good, if he did say so himself.
"I probably don't have to tell you guys 'with great power comes great responsibility'. We've all heard that a million times, right?" He smiled briefly. "But it's true, though. We're here to do a job, to inspire people, and to do it so well it'll last ninety years. That's really important, and we have to do it, but we have to be careful, too. We should be responsible to each other, not just the mortals. We're kind of like a family now, so the older gods, or the ones who've done this before, they should look after the younger ones. And if it looks like anyone is losing their way, we should help them. ... At least, that's what I think."
He looked around the table one more time, nodded, and sat down.
"I have to tell you about the future!! Except not, because that's totally against all the rules!"
... That might count as a performance? That wasn't my plan going into this post, but I also haven't settled on a performance style for him yet, and, well, oration is one, right? IDK, your characters can be inspired or not as you choose, I guess. ^_^;
Note for Ix: I think there's a pretty good chance Henry and Zeb have at least met once or twice, given that they've got some connections in common. I think he'd like Zeb, especially if he met him first as a friend of Ilraen's. Henry at this point is not Jacques' biggest fan, and if he knows Jacques and Zeb are anything other than buddies who like to bake together sometimes (which he might not), he'd probably think it's pretty weird. Mostly on the basis that anything involving Jacques is already weird by default, but still. ^_^; I don't know if either of them would recognize each other in their current forms, though!
For anyone else, if your character would be likely to have met Henry via the Nursery, classes, Sprouts, or whatever, I'm cool with establishing those connections.
~Neshomeh
Mary Poppins clapped politely, then stood up. “Alright then, I suppose. I’m Mary Poppins, if the umbrella didn’t make that evident already. I’m a bringer of order and the change in the wind, amongst other small things, and it’s a pleasure to meet you all.”
He sat back down and folded his tail back over his lap, silently hoping he hadn’t said anything wrong, or too formal, or not formal enough. Talking was hard sometimes.
And so is writing, apparently.
"I am Stone, God of the South, the Mountain of Light. I give life, I preserve life, and I am wounded." Light shone from her, especially the stone on her head, giving her fur a silvery sheen it hadn't possessed before. She paused a moment. "Though I know I'm quite small for a mountain at the moment..."And for a moment, she flickered, her fur returning to more earthy hues before the light resumed. When it had dimmed, though, it became apparent that there was indeed a silvery bit of blood matting a tuft of fur on her side.
"It is a pleasure to meet you all. And an honor. Being, well, a mountain, it is rare that I see much of other places." Her voice grew quieter. "Even before... I mean, I'd seen so little of my world, so little of any world..." She shook her head.
"But still. Ananke, I should tell you." Her golden eyes took on a silvery cast as she met Ananke's gaze. "Though I accept this honor and this burden, it is not for you to decide whether or not this is a sacrifice, or a sacrifice they are willing to make. It is their choice what to believe, and what to do about it." She lowered her head. "If any of you want my help, I'll be happy to give it. If there are sacrifices to be made, I'll make them."
Lucian ran into the door. As in, literally running into the door. After a moment of daze, Lucian finally figured out that it was a door and opened it.
"My apologies, I was kept behind by a mortal," Lucian said, trying to sound like a god. She noticed the table and the seats... and the gods. Definitely saw the gods. She froze metaphorically and quickly looked around, trying to find her seat so she was less of a distraction.
I probably interrupted something important. I'm gonna kill that dang mini.
"Uh, where is my seat?" It was then that she realized she forgot to close the door behind her and closed it with a slam.
She felt more frozen. What was she supposed to do? All the others looked like, to her at least, they knew what the heck was going on. She figured she had to break the ice somehow. How?
"Uh... hi?"
Lucian doesn't know what she interrupted, if anything. Sorry for not being here earlier, but school. Lots of school.
It might not be one of the great brass ones Malfeas had arranged for Ligier's part of himself, or the... hm, he didn't actually remember what the ones Ignis Divine had crafted were like. Well, not a big deal - he'd just make some more silkworms later or something and see if the memory popped up. Still - he had noticed the door slamming, and figured he should great the latest arrival.
"Hey," he said, waving to her once he was certain Stone was done talking, though not bothering to stand. "Don't worry about it, you're not that late. We only just got to the good part, actually! Your seat is gonna be right over there." He pointed towards the possibly-not-actually-empty-in-two-cases chairs between Yavanna and the bird-looking god with, if what she'd said already was what she was normally like, an obsession with endings to match Saturn's. ... Wait, didn't Saturn like ravens? Or was it crows? "We've been introducing ourselves, sharing names, continua, domains, stuff like that. She hasn't gone yet- " He paused to point at probably-not-Saturn-but-hey-a-god-can-hope, "- and as for the rest of us, I'm Gaia, from Exalted, Primordial of Growth, that's El-Ahrairah, from I Have No Clue, God of Rabbits and Maybe Fertility I'm Not Clear On That..." and he went around the table, naming the other deities in a similarly irreverent-but-hopefully-accurate fashion.
"And that's everyone who's here and introduced themselves. So how about you?"
Kitty - No worries about the timing on Lucian's arrival. We all have lives, after all, and this RP's been proceeding at a decent pace, but it's not exactly made of lightning - which is a good thing! Plus, hey, this way, even if the Raven Queen and Meridia turn out to have been here this all time, the initial description is still accurate, regardless of what time shenanigans the Ellimist is pulling. :P
HS - Thank you for the thanks! I figured it'd be a good way to kick off a few more interactions between some of the gods and help everyone start to get familiar with one another and would let me stop trying to think of good ways to describe them without using their names. :P And acknowledged on the poster bit - good to know! Stores fact away for later use if/when it becomes relevant.
"And I am Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible. I was called to Narnia by the wicked hearts of people and of Talking Beasts. and them I did claim as my lawful prey. I await the end and take what is mine, to my own Country, where the Lion rules not."
She settled back into her seat, still with that intent, looming stoop to her shoulders.
~ ~ ~
((Of course, it's strongly hinted that Tash is only able to operate by Aslan's allowance, but she's not likely to admit that to her new peers, is she?))
—doctorlit
Ah, well. He hadn't exactly been expecting to see anyone from home, not with what Ananke had said. And it'd be nice to meet some new divines, anyways. Speaking of which...
He gave it a moment or two, just in case the new arrival wanted to introduce herself or somebody else showed up, but nobody spoke up. Well, then - he better try and keep things from getting uncomfortable. "Right, that's almost everyone," he said, standing again. "Anybody else wants to introduce themselves later, go ahead and just say it - don't think we have to worry about formality or anything here." He glanced around at his fellow gods, idly noting that he seemed to be one of the older ones, quickly considering what to bring up next. The tree emblazoned on Yavanna's seat, only somewhat obscured by his crown, caught his eye, and he grinned. Oh, that'd work.
"But unless you guys want to take a break and get to know each other - though really, we should swing by, I dunno, Rudi's and all talk or something whenever we finish this - let's keep going. Anybody else have any questions for Ananke, go ahead and interrupt me, but for now - Ananke said we're all supposed to put on a show. I know Yavanna's got a head start on that-" He grinned at the Giver of Fruit. "- Since my partner knows a guy who knows a guy who saw his poster and knows the name. Honestly, I've been itching to get my hands on a mic since she showed up and showed me who I am. So - why don't a couple of us, or all of us, set up something together? Hand out fliers, talk to people, whatever, and grab ourselves a venue, then in, what, three or four days? Something like that. So, give it a few days so we can all compose or choreograph or whatever, then we can all debut together, and really get this party started. Heck, maybe Yavanna can tell everyone about it when he's wrapping up tomorrow. I'm definitely gonna start putting something together for then, so - anybody else interested?"
In which Granz attempts to clumsily move things along so we don't get bogged down and lose interest. As he said - if anybody else wants to introduce themselves or has any other questions for Ananke, feel free to circle it back or tell him to wait a second before getting to this idea. I just thought this'd be a good way to give things another jolt, and a handy way to begin arranging performances.
Yavanna nodded thoughtfully. "As the first to return, it's appropriate for me to introduce the rest of the Pantheon... yes." He nodded across the table at Gaia. "Thank you, O Guardian of Growth." His solemn expression cracked into a very childlike grin. "This is going to be fun!"
Ananke, too, smiled. "If the conversation has turned to planning of performances, I shall take my leave of you." She met each god's eyes around the table. "I love you all. If there is aught you need of me, this," she gestured at the chamber, "is where you are like to find me." She headed for a small side door, turned on the very threshold. "Do me proud," she said, and stepped out.
If someone really needs her they can chase her, but I feel like the Council has pretty much run its course? The planning doesn't need to be roleplayed unless people want to. :)
I don’t want anyone thinking I'm the only one who can start subthreads! If you want a concert, stick it up, slap a timefix on it, and go wild. If you want multiple gods involved, I'd say either chat to someone OOC, or drop an open invitation in the start of your concert.
The only timefixed RPs I have planned are a 'gods meet the fans' event around the 10th-15th, and a 'Party in the Parc (Tolkien)' group concert in New Cal around the 20th-25th. Plus of course the ending on the 31st. Anything you want in - go for it!
Nor does it have to be written chronologically... in fact, open invitation: I'd like to RP Yavanna getting angry with another god and having a bit of a powered squabble, maybe in the second half of the month. If anyone's up for it, shout out here (including where he'd find them and roughly when in the timeline you'd prefer) and I'll start the subthread. :)
hS
I am definitely up for that. It's kinda sorta by accident, but El-Ahrairah accidentally scummed his way into being one of the more dangerous physical combatants in the present pantheon; I'd like a chance to prove that against a deity whose tiering would conventionally be a lot higher. Generally speaking, elf goddess of the natural world >>>>>>> overconfident rabbit.
HQ could be so fascinating.
At least, that's what the little girl currently wandering through the halls was thinking. Selena Hawke had stumbled through a plothole. Again. This wasn't exactly a new occurrence for her. As long as her brother was here, she'd probably keep popping up. For now, though, she took the chance to walk her way through the halls and enjoy her free time.
She rounded a corner, narrowly twirling around a woman who was standing in the hall. Selena gave a cheerful wave, about to greet the woman before she noticed the veil. "Salve, Signora, are you alright?" The girl knew enough to understand what that veil meant. "Is there anything you need?"
Her attention was momentarily distracted when a glass ball rolled into her foot. She glanced down, then picked it up and looked up and down the hall. They were the only ones there. She had no clue where it came from, but after a moment she noticed it start to glow.
"Signora, is this yours?" Selena thought the lady might have smiled at that, though the veil made it hard to tell.
"No. It's yours."
~~
So, descriptions: Selena is a fairly normal looking 10 year old girl. Black hair, with a single brown streak in the front. Blue eyes, a short floral dress, and a massive smile.
As for her role, she's taking the role of Meridia. Best image I could find for her: Here you go. Particulars are entirely up to you, but I'm assuming something light based, given Meridia is a goddess of Light, Life, and Energy.
Hopefully that's a good intro, and thanks for the fun Hs!
"You are of the Pantheon. You will be loved. You will be hated."
Light. There was nothing but light.
"You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead."
Selene fell into the light, was the light, was unable to be anything else.
"You are the Lady of Infinite Energies. The Queen of the Sunfire."
Her light touched everything, cleansing, purifying, absolute.
"Radiant. Immaculate. Lady of Light and bringer of Dawn."
The light gathered, and she stepped forth, wings of light blazing at her back. But the veiled woman did not avert her gaze.
"We meet again, Meridia," she said, reaching out to embrace the newly-incarnate god. "I've missed you. I have missed you all. But now you are all with me at last.
"Once again, we return."
To address the elephant in the room: yes, she's quite clearly wearing wellington boots. I didn't intend it, but for a 10-year-old they kind of fit. I assume they're sunflower-yellow.
(She's also wearing shorts under the robe. I know, Meridia does the whole bare-leg thing, but stuff that, she's ten.)
The Pantheon is complete! For timefix purposes, all this is assumed to have taken place on the same day, August 1st. The first official performance, Yavanna's, takes place 2 days later, but there's nothing to stop any of the gods performing on the side before then. Equally, if any of the gods want to join Yavanna on the stage, the micro-RP is there.
And, well... go nuts! I'll think about some more micro-RP subthreads to post, but you can take this any way you want. I'll collect it all together at the end, and may add some more pictures along the way. :)
hS
Jiwon was walking down the halls of PPC HQ, headed for the Cafeteria while at the same time trying to not think about going to the Cafeteria. His fox tail swished behind him as he walked, twitching upwards on occasion when it brushed the floor. He fiddled with the pearl necklace hanging around his neck, making sure it was still there. It was, and he mentally relaxed a little before continuing his casual walk down the corridors.
He silently hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone on the way. Growing up as a sheltered, upper-class kid in his homeverse didn’t exactly make him the most social of people. It didn’t help that there had been the whole cultural “hiding the fact that you’re a kumiho from the humans” he had to constantly worry about as well. It was honestly one of the reasons he liked this place; not having to always wear a hat or tuck your tail into your pants for hours was nice.
He rounded a corner and nearly bumped into a veiled old woman dressed entirely in black standing in the middle of the corridor. At first, Jiwon thought she was waiting for someone, but when he began to pass her, he couldn’t help but notice her head slowly turning to follow his movements, and he stopped.
Jiwon was a little concerned.
Then her entire body turned to face him, and then he was really concerned.
“Um… ma’am?” he mumbled, then the wind picked up. Then he noticed, at the end of the hall, what appeared to be a floating, slowly spinning umbrella drifting down the corridor towards the two of them. He was starting to go from concerned to outright spooked.
“What’s going on-” he started, but the old woman calmly raised a hand, palm outward, and he stopped.
Their eyes locked, and Jiwon found himself unable to look away. The wind picked up speed, and the umbrella at the end of the hall picked up speed, spinning and gliding faster and faster towards him, and-
Alright, then. I think it took me way too long to think of this, but here we go.
So, description. Jiwon’s a 16-year-old Korean and kind of short, standing around five and a half feet tall. He has fox ears and a tail due to being a kumiho, and his resting expression looks somewhat tired. He’s clean shaven and has straight black hair, with his bangs pushed to the side out of his eyes. He sometimes wears traditional Korean hanbok with a pearl necklace from home, but he doesn’t have to be if it fits the scene better. Or if you think you can work it into the god form, that might be fun too.
Er. Speaking of. I was thinking of Mary Poppins. I think it might be kind of a stretch (she’s never directly referred to as a god or anything), but she does some really weird things in some of the books and stageplays that go a bit past the whole Disney magical nanny thing and dips into some honestly less fairy-tale-esque and more freaky stuff. I think there’s this one scene in the musical where she up and banishes someone to hell in a cage.
But anyways, I think it would be kinda funny to see how this setup works. If it’s acceptable, that is. If it isn’t, feel free to tell me. Even so, it was fun to write this.
Anyways, thanks for the whole setting-up thing! It’s fun reading.
"You are of the Pantheon."
Jiwon fell, clouds receding above him, lights like an infinite city spread out beneath him. His tail streamed in the wind; his scream was left far behind.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead."
There was no way to save himself, absolutely nothing he could do... except that beside him, inexplicably upright, inexplicably keeping pace, fell a simple black umbrella.
He reached out.
"You are the adult in every room. The tender of childhood woes. Chastiser. Teacher. The Moment when the wind changes."
Umbrella in hand, coat immaculately groomed, heels pressed primly together, he drifted to the grey floor of the corridor and greeted the respectably-attired old woman with a precise nod.
Ananke returned the nod. "Mary Poppins," she said, "we meet again. I've missed you."
That was so much fun.
I've not actually read the Poppins book (Kaitlyn keeps telling me I should), so I've had to go from the film and Wikipedia here. Originally I had him as 'the child of the East Wind', but 'adult in every room' really spoke to me. And I really like the idea of him not just repeatedly invoking, but being the change in the wind, in some sense.
I'm afraid his coat came out looking like a dressing gown (it's the sash), but it is definitely a coat. And those are white gloves. No carpet bag, though - the umbrella seemed like enough. (The necklace is there, though it's wound up looking more like a pattern on the meant-to-be-hanbok.)
hS
The following conversation was honestly kind of awkward, with Mary coming to terms with, well, existing.
Questions had been asked, vague answers had been given, but he still came out of it feeling like there was still much to understand. It was somewhat aggravating, really.
He walked down the HQ corridors, still deep in thought. He had heard the horror stories of Suefluence and Invasions and all that before from other Agents, and newly-acquired godhood wasn't quite enough to stave off a little worm of worry in the back of his mind. He decided that he would go head to his RC for a bit to think about what to do.
Besides, he figured Charlie wouldn’t be too bad to have around while he was thinking. Sure, they’d probably be a little surprised, but at least they wouldn’t try to attack him or laugh at his clothes or anything.
...Wait, why was he suddenly concerned about his looks? And why did it feel so natural?
Then he realized he had arrived at his RC door. Wasting no time, he opened the door and stepped in.
Charlie was sitting in a chair in the corner, their fingers practically flying across their mandola strings. They were also singing. Loudly. It was a wonder how the sound hadn’t carried through the door.
“...We feel the paaain of a lifetime lost in a thousand days, through the fire and the flames we carry OOOON - oh, hi Jiwon.” The tabaxi lowered their mandola and waved, smiling broadly.
“It’s Mary Poppins now, actually,” he said, not unkindly. It was a statement of fact to him now, but he knew Charlie didn’t know that yet.
His partner blinked. “You’re Mary Poppins?”
“I’m fairly sure. Poppins, but formerly Jiwon. Something having to do with incarnations and all that, I think.”
Charlie looked confused for a few seconds, before shrugging and going back to their mandola strumming. “Alright, then.” They looked up. “You sure this isn’t something you should be headed to FicPsych about?”
“No, I do believe I’m fine. Without, that is.”
“If you say so, mate.” Charlie bent over their instrument, slowly getting drawn back into their music. “I really don’t know what’s happened, but it seems interesting. Have fun with whatever it is you’re doing.”
Mary blinked, then decided that a curt nod counted as a valid response. “I’ll try, I suppose. Enjoy your playing, then.” And, deciding there was nothing else to do here, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
Crack.
A sudden wind picked up, Mary raised his umbrella, and he silently flew away on the breeze, gliding out the open door.
Charlie looked up. “Jiwon? What was that?” But their partner was gone, leaving behind an empty doorway and the light smell of gunpowder and fox.
“...Huh.” Charlie’s curiosity had now been piqued. They had to see what was going on with all this. Their partner claimed he was Mary Poppins, and now he apparently knew magic. In their experience, one didn't simply develop magic out of nowhere. Unless you were a sorcerer, but they were pretty sure Jiwon wasn't a sorcerer.
Something was up, and they wanted to figure out what it was, even if they had no plan or preparation whatsoever. They stood up, hefting their mandola, and secured the strap of their Bag of Holding, before heading out the door and shutting it behind them.
Welp, curiosity killed the cat and all that. Charlie has no idea what they’re doing. :/
Neither does Jiwon/Mary, though, honestly. And neither do I. I’m just gonna see where my brain goes with all this. Excitement, I guess.
OrangeFox: y'know what, I'll allow it for the hilarity value. XD Probably tomorrow at this point, we'll see.
hS
The hyena cub bounded back and forth as they came around the corner. “Lunch time! Lunch time!”
Ilcharheen smiled down at Alfajiri. “Yes, I’m ready to eat, too.”
Alfajiri froze and pricked his ears forwards, left, right. “What’s going on?”
Ilcharheen stopped and looked around. “What? I don’t see any—” But that was the problem. There were no other students in the hallway. “Oh, this doesn’t feel right.”
Alfajiri lifted his nose into the air and started sniffing, loudly. “Someone’s here, though. No . . . not a someone . . .” He suddenly raced off, nose to the ground, trailing something down the hall.
Ilcharheen’s eyes widened, and she took off after her friend. “Don’t leave me alone! What is it?”
Between snuffles, Alfajiri muttered, “Don’t know, new smell.” He sniffed his way into an open classroom door.
Ilcharheen caught up and had one brief moment to see Alfajiri’s ears prick up and his head whip around, before the door slammed shut between them. She stared, paralyzed for a moment.
“Ilcharheen?” Alfajiri started scrabbling at the other side of the door, the scratching of his claws muffled.
“Alfa!?” Ilcharheen lunged forward and grabbed the knob, but it was locked. She turned it frantically, then started pounding on the door. “Alfa!” She looked up and down the hallway, hoping for someone to help, and not quite getting her wish.
The veiled woman was right behind her. Through the veil, Ilcharheen could see the woman’s eyes: a beautiful, powerful blue, radiating a sense of wonder and ancient mystery.
Ilcharheen had grown up in the Calormene Empire. She had been raised to distrust eyes like those.
The eyes of the lion.
Ilcharheen found herself gasping for air and shrank down against the wall, helpless before her culture’s greatest boogeyman. “Aslan!” she shrieked.
“Wait, really?” asked Alfajiri through the door.
“No, not him,” the woman said, reaching down towards her. “Not him at all . . .”
~ ~ ~
I don’t think I’ve actually described Ilcharheen yet at any point. We can just stick with standard Calormene features: black hair, brown eyes, dark skin, patterned robe (feel free to skip patterning for time’s sake), pointy-toe shoes.
And she is indeed becoming Tash, the Lucifer stand-in of Narnia. Because when hS used Aslan as an example, my brain immediately went, “But what if, instead of that, the opposite of that?”
—doctorlit has a weird fascination with Tash, honestly
"You are of the Pantheon."
Sand stretched beneath Ilcharheen, and the sun blazed crimson above, but this was not the desert, for no desert could be so bitterly, soul-chillingly cold.
"You will be hated. You will be loved. You will be brilliant and terrible.
"Within two years, you will be dead."
A dark smoke rose, choking Ilcharheen. In desperation she looked up into the unblinking eye of the sun, but saw only black wings circling above.
"You are the carrion-lord of the deserts. The vulture inexorable. Irresistible. Inevitable."
The black shapes swooped down, and in their dark feathers Ilcharheen was fulfilled.
"God of the bloodstained altar - arise."
She stood, feeling her robe spread about her like black wings, and looked into the veiled woman's eyes. They burned still blue, blue as the desert sky, and in them - alone perhaps of all eyes save those of the Lion - there was no fear.
"We meet again, Tash," and the woman smiled the smile of the undying in the face of death. "I've missed you."
Tash has come out somewhere between Egyptian and Aztec, which wasn't intentional - it's just how she took shape. I've not given her four arms; the gods aren't usually physically transformed beyond things like fingernails and hair. But I couldn't resist the pun in the circle. ^_^
I've tried to be fair to Tash here. She's a death-god, sure - but that's because she's a vulture from the desert. They are death, and for all they're creepy, they're not actually evil. They're just... inevitable.
Though if she starts carrying out human sacrifice, I imagine some of the other gods will have something to say about it.
(If we were doing a full WikDiv plotline, Tash's skull-face makeup would grant her a very specific place in the Pantheon. Thankfully, we are not, so she can just be a creepy death-god.)
hS
The surroundings were visible, yet no light source in the sky, no sky at all. It was empty and dry. (Not dry, something inside reminded her, undescribed matter can't be wet or dry, but she ignored that. The point is that it was no lush, green Narnia.) Tash rather liked this place; it was, in many ways, like Tash's own country. Except—
Two thoughts crossed her mind in rapid succession. First, there were many stories in this place, and many connections between beings, and between places. This meant that there were many ends. Many stories and lives that could branch out in many different ways, twisting into and crashing against each other, a true myriad of possibilities, and of possible endings. Souls that could grow in love or in hate with a thousand others in a thousand combinations, to end in sorrowful passings away, or in bitter and violent flashes of destruction. Entire worlds that could wink in or out, or cause others to do the same. Because always, whatever the place or time inhabited, whatever the body born to or the choices made in it, whatever the circumstances forged by one mind or a billion, one thing was always true. One thing can never be prevented. There is always a
T H E
E N D
waiting down the line. The End is irresistible.
But second, Tash could feel that there were many beings here, in many different forms, but none of them had called Tash here, in the manner a certain Tarkaan once had. Instead, the black-clad woman had done so, but she was not Tash's to take. And so, Tash focused her blazing eyes on the woman's blue ones and asked her:
"Why hath I been brought here? What here art mine to take?" There was a guttural croak to it, even though the voice of a young woman was still audible beneath.
~ ~ ~
((It turns out it's a little difficult to get a feel for a character who gets maybe two thirds of a page of page time and speaks exactly three sentences in canon. This will be a challenge to role-play, but I'll do my best! For now, I'm combining my own view of canon!Tash as a punishment figure who only has agency because he's given the power to act by the Emperor-over-the-Sea (hence Ilcharheen questioning Ananke what her role is), with your vulturine/desert-focused interpretation, which I quite like. (Helps that I'm currently reading a non-fiction book about the Yuma 14, so the desert's power to take life over an extended period is very on my mind.) This led me down the path of a being that can naturally detect endings, both literal and meta-textual, which makes a multi-dimensional, quantumly wonky location like HQ a very interesting place, indeed.))
((I had actually forgotten the fact that Calormenes performed human sacrifices to Tash from my long-ago reading of the series. I'm still not really interested in going there for this, unless some of the other gods' players really want a plotline where they stop the attempt. The fact that, by the time of The Last Battle, most Calormenes didn't even believe in Tash is enough evidence for me to discount their worship as anything Tash himself actually cares about!))
—doctorlit, really good at biting off more than he can chew in RPs, it seems
Ananke contemplated Tash's face with no discernable emotion. "There are many gods of death," she said, half to herself, "but gods of endings are far rarer. And in this place... walk with me," she said abruptly. "There is much I would say, and time, in this place, presses hard."
She set off at a brisk pace, leaving Tash no choice but to follow. "You are of the Pantheon," Ananke told the vulture-god. "You are here to inspire the mortals of this 'P-P-C' with your song. Whether you inspire them to contemplation, terror, or despair means little to me.
"But they are not yours to take. We do not turn our powers against mortals; they are our charges, not our prey. Gods who turn their backs on this rule come inevitably to a bad end - one more terrible even than the maw of Tash.
"Yet there is other carrion for you here. Search the mind you have inherited - this place is the death of stories. Of," Ananke's lip twitched, "Suvians, and wraiths, and crossovers, and countless others. It is not your usual fare, but if you feel beyond their glowing portals, you will find endings enough to sate even Tash the Inexorable."
I'm currently reading Small Gods, which also dwells heavily on the life-taking effects of deserts.
I've tried to stick to your interpretation here; if I've gone wildly off, let me know and I'll edit it. :) The idea of this Tash as the Death of Stories is really intriguing (and gets around the 'shouldn't you be killing agents?' dilemma). It also leaves you openings for her to go rogue without going on a killing spree, if you choose to take that path.
Canonically, audiences will love anything the gods perform for them. There's at least three gods in the 2014 Pantheon who specialise in despair and darkness, and one who goes full nihilistic 'nothing means anything'; they still cheer afterwards. So if you feel like writing a concert/performance, feel free to take it anywhere you want without worrying about traumatising the agents. :)
Ananke has a little time to walk if Tash has more to say. I promise she won't bite her head off. ;)
hS
That sensation from before, of stories crashing into each other, of bitter meetings and separations. She sensed them still.
"Suvians," she croaked, smoke pouring from her mouth and pooling around her legs. "Wraiths, crossovers." She spread her robe out like wings again, and the smoke billowed upwards and carried her into the air. As the cloud oozed its way down the corridor, Ananke could hear Tash say, "I shall seek out my rightful prey, and I shall take it unto me."
~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, back where Tash had first ascended:
"Hello?" Alfajiri called uncertainly through the door. "Ilcharheen?"
A pause.
"I don't have thumbs."
~ ~ ~
((Thank you, hS! Ananke's words have been majorly helpful here. In fact, I'm debating now: would it be reasonable for Tash to try to worm her way into a Narnia mission with actual agents? I'm mostly worried about Aslan; I know he usually lets agents handle missions on their own, but I'm not sure how laissez-faire he would feel if an avatar of his main enemy stepped out of HQ . . . Or, if you just don't think it's appropriate in general, I'll drop the idea.))
((I am planning on doing a music performance with Tash, but I still need to settle on whether to go with a straight filk, something more abstract, or really risk the biscuit and try to write some original poetry/lyrics. I'll have to mull it over . . . Oh, and don't worry. Alfajiri will get out eventually. No thumbs, but his teeth are evolved to break bones, so generic surface won't be a problem.))
—doctorlit, feeling more direction now
((Because my brain just won't let me leave Alfajiri stuck like that!))
Wilma clamped her hands over her ears and growled. "WHAT is that NOISE!?" she demanded. "And HOW am I supposed to RELAX!?"
Laquisha paused in scrubbing her teeth for a moment and listened. A dull, muffled grinding sound was repeating over and over. "Yeah, what is that?" she asked, although it didn't really sound like it, since her mouth was dripping toothpaste.
"Is the air conditioner breaking?!" Wilma asked, hopping down.
"We have an air conditioner?" asked Numbuh 3721.
"Don't start that again," threatened Wilma.
Numbuh 3721 cupped a hand to each ear and began turning all around the room. As her search began to narrow, she said, "It's coming from . . ." she pointed. "There!"
The girls clustered around the spot on the wall and pressed their ears against it, Laquisha smearing toothpaste on the generic surface. The grinding sound was growing to a low, crunching rumble.
"Okay, what is that?" asked Wilma.
"Considering we're in Headquarters," Numbuh 3721 said, thumb thoughtfully on her chin, "it could be . . ."
Wilma and Laquisha stared at her, then looked at each other, then back to her. "What?" Wilma asked.
Numbuh 3721 finished, "Just about anything."
The other two rolled their eyes.
"Gee, thanks,” said Wilma. “We'd better go get someone.”
"Someone?" asked Numbuh 3721.
Laquisha grunted through her toothbrush, eyes wide and staring at the wall.
"The Nursery staff? Duh."
"You don't think we can handle this ourselves?"
Laquisha grunted louder, gesturing with her free hand at the cracks that were appearing in the wall, and glaring with wild eyes at her friends.
"We don't even know what 'this' is! How can you assume we can handle it?"
"We don't need any help from adults. They're just going to get in the way, and . . . and spill coffee everywhere or something!"
Laquisha finally spit her toothpaste onto the floor and yelled, "HOMYGOD you guys SOMETHING'S COMING OUT!"
The arguers snapped their heads to the wall, just in time to see a set of predator’s canines bite through.
“Holy crap!” Laquisha yelled. “Actual monster!”
Numbuh 3721 entered a stereotypical kung foo stance. “Kids Next Door, battle stations!”
“We needs weapons!” Wilma was scurrying frantically around the room. “Baseball bats, bike chains, we have to have something!”
But by then the hole had widened enough for the familiar-looking head of a half-grown hyena to push all the way through. “Hey! I found people! You guys, where’s Ilcharheen? Have you seen her?”
The three girls stared, wide-eyed. “Uh, Alfajiri,” Laquisha stammered. “Hi?”
Alfajiri snapped at the hole a bit more, trying to make room for his legs. In between bites, he explained, “I was walking with Ilcharheen (crunch) in the classroom hallway, and everything got (crunch) real quiet, and this weird smell I didn’t know was in the air! (crunch, crunch) And then a door slammed on me, and someone (crunch) was talking to Ilcharheen, and she never let me out. I’m worried something happened to her!” He finally got all his legs and his back hump through the hole. “Why are you guys just staring like that? We need to go find help!”
“Yeeeaaah,” said Numbuh 3721.
“It’s just, you made it awkward?” said Laquisha.
“Because you just tunneled into the girls’ dorm rooms,” finished Wilma.
Alfajiri looked around for the first time, taking in the very obvious bedroom furniture. “Oh,” he said. He blinked. “Oops?” He sniffed. “Oh, toothpaste!” He started lapping it up.
—doctorlit
Your best bet might actually be to find a badfic that throws Aslan (or "Aslan") OOC, so that the real version only shows up at the very end.
I have no concerns about appropriateness - the whole point of this is to explore what people would do, and this sounds totally in character. I... could potentially volunteer Kaitlyn and Selene for mission purposes, though historically cowriting with me is a bit of a nightmare, so you probably shouldn't take me up on that. :)
hS
((It would probably be pretty tricky to coordinate anything with all the time I have to spend at work each week. I'll have to poke around and see what I can find this weekend, but unless a very short badfic presents itself, it'll probably have to be something I sit down and do "someday," once my abusive employer is finally out of the picture.))
—doctorlit
I'm not saying you should definitely do some human sacrifice. I'm just saying it would be really cool, and conflict is awesome, and it's entirely possible some of the gods would support you...
Sacrifices must be made, eh Stone?
I feel like Lady Kee'ra and possibly Yavanna (who specifically created the Ents to fight back against dwarves with axes) could maybe be convinced to support a For The Greater Good sacrifice ploy. But that would mean convincing them that powering Tash up was a good cause, so there'd be some fancy footwork to do there.
If as Kittyauthor suggested this was a PPC Emergency, that would probably be the way to go. Other options would be time travel shenanigans (HI, ELLIMIST!), or some variety of I-just-hate-you. Mary Poppins, as essentially the incarnation of Order, would probably get very peeved at some... most... of the others. Gaia, Yavanna, and El-Ahrairah form a natural team, with maybe Stone and Meridia as well; the Raven Queen seems like a chronic meddler... yeah, you could definitely do a lot with this pantheon.
I'm not taking anything off the table for RPs, and Ananke will not be meddling in the children's affairs (though she may be audibly disapproving); just remember that actions have consequences. :)
hS
I was mostly joking about the Emergency thing, since: A: This is a somewhat widespread (as in, over the HQ) RP B: Some of the gods are evil or could be considered evil. (or, at the time of posting, some had the potential of being evil) C.: Evil gods could make things go ka-boom.
But we can play it as an Emergency if that's what everyone wants or everyone is okay with it.
(P.S.: Can I have say, if it is an Emergency, whether or not O'Ryan gets... uh, killed? Because I kinda don't want him to die...)
Also, you always get to decide what happens to your own characters in RPs. Rule number one of good role-playing is that you don't take over other people's characters without their permission.
To clarify, we all gave hS permission to write the transformation bits by opting into the event, since he told us that was the plan. {= )
Rule number two, of course, is that you should allow some things to happen to your characters within reason. For example, if you write them getting into a fight with someone else's character, but never let the other character get a hit in even if physics and relative ability indicate that they should, that's uncool.
Mostly, though, following the basic rules of good writing and story-telling will ensure good RPing. {= )
~Neshomeh
This is no Emergency by the classical definition; it's just an event people can play with how they want. It can advance your characters stories if you want, but mostly it's just for playing. :)
hS
((We don't do those sorts of Emergencies any more, since they potentially force events on spin-offs whose authors don't want them. That's why we've been sticking to opt-in events like this one and the Blackout. Also, as hS said in his initial post, ". . . effects are assumed to be permanent, so please don't hurt anyone who doesn't want to be hurt!" This, of course, applies to your own characters as well.))
((Bit of a tangent too, to reply to Cicada's earlier post: I really don't see Tash as a "death god," in the same sense that Hades and Anubis are. He only kills two characters on-page, and that's only hours, if not minutes, before the end of the physical Narnia. So both those characters were going to die soon anyway . . . I feel like Tash just got a head start there? Seems to me he's more of a "punishment god" than anything else . . . I'll have to see how Tash!Ilcharheen shapes up as I write her, but sacrifices aren't really on my menu.))
—doctorlit, with no solid plans for this event yet
I'm really glad you picked Tash, regardless. Poor dude gets a raw deal in his home canon. And I'm sure there will be blood somehow!
It would not be unfair to say that the ascension is how /Ananke/ views the god, but everything after that is how /they/ view themselves. So anything in the ascension that you don't like, you can ignore. :)
My read on Tash is that he's... a vulture. A vulture doesn't kill, but it's always there when death comes. He's also a desert god - and the desert, like the vulture, does not allow for missteps. If you make a mistake, you fall, and Tash is there to claim you.
And he gets everyone in the end, for he (or she, now) is inexorable. Irresistible. Inevitable. Etc etc etc. Sure, you can sacrifice to him - but he was going to get the one you killed anyway. It'd just take a bit longer.
hS
Henry Robinson was feeling grouchy. This wasn't an especially uncommon occurrence these days, but it was extra-unpleasant on the heels of what had been a pretty fun camp-out in the Miss Cam Courtyard. A few Sprout Posies had all gotten together, so there had been lots of kids around, including some that Henry didn't see at all otherwise, like the two Illian-Sims girls. Of their family, he liked Tanfin better—Tanfin was older, and he was cool, albeit maybe a little bit too cool for Henry—but he'd aged out a couple years ago. Jasmine, however, was his age, and Bella was just a year younger. Henry wasn't a huge fan of Bella, because she'd had a tendency to glomp him when they were younger, and he hadn't forgiven her yet. As for Jasmine, sometimes she was fun, but other times she was just... Henry didn't know. You couldn't say someone was a girl like it was a bad thing. But, he thought very quietly to himself, she was, though.
And here he was, stuck with the two of them, the last ones to get picked up this morning. They were annoyed that Tanfin was late, and Henry was grouchy because he'd stayed up late and he was tired and Sprouts was stupid anyway, and Bella kept trying to cheer him up, and Jasmine was ignoring him when he really wanted to talk to her instead, and he just didn't want to be here anymore.
It wasn't fair. Somehow, he'd thought turning eleven back in February would solve all his problems, but it hadn't. He'd thought he would feel older; he'd thought people would treat him differently; he'd thought he would at least be a bit taller. Bella had gotten taller than he was, and so what if she was half elf, it was still insult added to injury. And he'd still had to wait some more until he could go to Hogwarts (HFA, really, but close enough), the thing he most looked forward to in the whole entire multiverse, and even now it was still thirty whole days off. And why was he still waiting here when Ilraen was supposed to come get him and hang out with him the rest of the day until Mom was done with work? Sometimes he wished the time would hurry up and go already.
In the midst of glaring down at the ground and poking a fresh hole in it with a stick, he heard Bella say something. He looked up to tell her again to leave him alone, but stopped short with his mouth hanging open.
There was a woman in black standing there. A veil covered her face, but Henry knew she was looking at him, somehow. Her eyes were so blue...
(( Jasmine and Bella appear with permission from hS. Couldn't resist running with the Sprouts setup. ^_^
(( Henry, for anyone who doesn't know, is the Mpreg child of Harry Potter by Severus Snape, and he rather looks it. He has a long face and a tendency to look like he's scowling when he's really just thoughtful. He's begun growing his hair out, because he got the Potter "perpetually messy" curse and he figures being able to tie it back will help, and also cool people have long hair.
(( And he's about to become the avatar of the Ellimist, which may or may not mean turning blue...? {= D
(( ~Neshomeh is not normally awake this early, but since she happens to be up at the moment, figured she'd get this in while there's still time! ))
"You are of the Pantheon."
Henry was subsumed in infinite, imminent blue. He knew there was nothing beyond it, because there was no thing beyond it.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant."
A stream flowed by him, blue amid the blue. Henry reached out, touched it, felt it rolling endlessly past.
"Within two years, you will be dead."
With a single finger, Henry diverted the stream's flow.
"You are of the Pantheon."
No.
"We meet again, Ellimist."
No.
"You are the transcendental presence."
Ah. That sounded right. Again.
"You are the transcendental presence. Bound up in your own laws. Rule-maker. Rule-breaker. The last effect and the first cause."
He stepped into the stream, and Time rose around him. Looking up into an aged, the Ellimist smiled.
"Ananke," he said, seeing the surprise in her eyes. "We meet again. I've missed you."
-- and then (he was almost certain it was then), Bella Illian ran up and threw her arms around. "That was so cool!" she exclaimed. "Do it again!"
The Ellimist is a fun one. What's that cube in his hand? Is that a Hogwarts scarf, a Doctor Who scarf, or the very concept of linear time? Where (or when) do you get a robe with pockets?
And yes, shades of Dr. Manhattan here (he's blue and temporally transcendent, what did you expect?). I don't think this Ellimist is quite that powerful; he has limited movement up and down the time stream, not actual temporal omnipresence.
And his symbol is a tesseract, because why not throw in a Wrinkle in Time reference too? You're lucky he didn't wind up with a Time Lord collar!
(He also has longer hair now; you can only see it a bit, but it's there.)
hS
It was no wonder he'd felt so frustrated with his life lately. He had just known he was more than Henry Robinson, castoff from a world that had no room for him, one of a thousand kids with a boring variation on the same pathetic backstory. He was—he had always been—the Ellimist, waiting only for the right time to awaken to the knowledge.
He had known about the Ellimist, of course; one couldn't have an Andalite for a friend without learning about the canon he came from. He knew the stories. He knew his purpose: to prevent destruction, to preserve life, to guide the universe—nay, the multiverse—along a path toward peace and harmony. He knew the music of Time itself.
For some reason, it now seemed to him that it sounded like "Pruit Igoe & Prophecies." He didn't quite know what that was, but he supposed he would, and that was good enough.
The point was, he was certain now that he had a destiny. A great one. Everything was falling into place!
Though, if he were perfectly honest, he didn't quite get how a great destiny was supposed to start with something as silly as a hug from Bella Illian.
A minute ago, he would've told her to get off and pushed her away, but that was forever ago, when he had just been Henry. Now he was the Ellimist, and the great, wise, and good Transcendental Presence did not roughly tell little girls to get off. Instead, he smiled and kindly patted her head. That was the sort of thing one did when one was the Transcendental Presence.
Her head, he noticed, was still higher than his. That didn't seem right. But he wasn't stuck with this form now, he realized. He could alter time with a single thought. There were rules and limitations, of course, but mostly those concerned what not to do to other people.
"If you think that was cool," he said, "watch this!"
He took a step back, disentangling himself (kindly) from Bella's embrace. His green eyes lit with the endless blue of eons. He raised a hand, and snapped his fingers.
Klik!
Time swirled around him, flaring with sparks of actinic blue. When the light faded, he had changed. No longer a scrawny eleven-year-old, he stood now as he would when he reached his majority at seventeen: nearly six feet tall, beginning to fill out a bit even if he would never have more than a swimmer's physique, and finally, finally properly growing into his face. He might never be conventionally handsome, but at least he would stop looking like a goofy little gremlin. If people like Alan Rickman and Adam Driver could make careers in performance with faces like theirs, then he could wear his with dignity, too.
He grinned. This was going to be awesome.
... I'm concerned that this might be going to his head. Just a little. {X D
Question: about that "dead within two years" thing. Granted, it's not actually going to happen, but supposing he tried to look into the future and see what was up with that. Would he simply not be able to get beyond two years/ his "death"? Would he simply be blind to what happens as pertains directly to himself? What do you think?
~Neshomeh
Jasmine had been affecting boredom, as she often did when contemplating her advanced age of eleven years. But the Ellimist's second transformation had broken through that. She looked up at him, eyes bright.
"Two questions," she said. "First: can you do that for other people, for instance me?"
Bella rolled her eyes dramatically. "Jasmine..."
Jasmine ignored her sister. "Second... are you blue on purpose, or did it just happen?"
You may age Jas' up if the Ellimist would do so, but I'm not invested in the idea. It just seemed like the sort of thing she'd ask.
How do you feel about Yavanna showing up? He was supposed to pick up the girls, after all.
For the death thing... hmm. Okay, so... honestly, I think that's a 'what do you want to show?' question. I can tell you that the gods get significantly less stable in their second year, and that - assuming nothing happens to them beforehand - the expectation is that they will die by 'burning out' (more or less literally). But they're also a bunch of teenaged superhero-wizards, so 'nothing happens' isn't a safe assumption. The 1920s pantheon ended with only four survivors of the twelve (this is the very first pages of the comic, as it happens).
(The Ellimist seeing the not-to-occur 'WikDiv Emergency' timeline would be kind of hilarious actually. All the drama you can imagine, and he's convinced it's going to happen, and then... it doesn't. ^_^)
hS
"Well, it's—"
He blinked. His voice was deeper. This made perfect sense. It was also so. cool.
Still grinning, he started again, examining the exact shade of his hands as he spoke. "It's both. It just happened right now, but it was on purpose before. It's a good color!" He'd always favored shades of green and red before, but blue was clearly better. How foolish he'd been.
"But," he went on, lowering his hands to address the first question, "I can't just do anything to anybody. There's rules about not interfering directly with people. It could break the space-time continuum, you know. Sorry." He truly regretted not being able to tell her yes, but he felt certain that it would be somehow wrong.
I actually reread The Ellimist Chronicles last night. It's a nice little read! It sadly did not directly tell me what I really wanted to know, which was whether or not the Ketrans were blue, but there are hints: their blood is burnt orange (at least when exposed to air); at one point someone's hands are described as "clutching, blue-knuckled, at the controls" of a ship; and looking "a bit orange" might mean one is "sick or just old." So I reckon their skin does have a bluish tinge (indicating a sun on the more blue side?), but they'd appear sort of greenish-brown normally, tending blue when pale and orange when flushed. Blue comes up more than once as being beautiful, though, and Toomin/Ellimist was originally from the Azure Level of his home crystal, so I reckon he just likes it. {= )
I'm happy to have Yavanna show up! That should be interesting. Ilraen could turn up, too, and I'm sure he'll have something to say about all this even if it's mostly <What??>. Might be good to have a responsible adult around.
Re. time travel, I was thinking he might go "I can't/won't arbitrarily age you up, but... wanna see what you look like in the future? :D " And if that results in the whole party getting a look at a false Emergency future, that sounds wildly amusing, and I'm in!
~Neshomeh
Jasmine looked rather disgruntled, but before she could say anything there was a stirring in the nearby trees. All the leaves seemed to be reaching towards the trio, or rather towards the tree that had suddenly sprouted where Ananke had stood earlier. Or no, perhaps the tree had always been there. Or no, perhaps it was not simply a tree, but the embodiment of Tree. Or no, perhaps it was...
"Sorry I'm late!" A willowy thirteen-year-old wearing a coat somewhat too large for him and - it was hard not to notice - a rather oversized wooden crown stood in front of the three. "Something, ah, came up, and I..."
He trailed off, staring at the Ellimist, his brow furrowing. "Wait, are you...?"
"Tanfin!" Bella ran over to her older brother and hugged him tight. "It's been so cool, you wouldn't believe what's happened!"
"I think I would, Bella." The young man shook himself free and returned to contemplating the Ellimist. Finally, he stuck out his hand. "I'm Yavanna," he said. "And you must be... Kylo Ren's Force ghost?"
"Forget him," Jasmine muttered sullenly, "he can't even make me older." She gave Yavanna a calculating look. "Can you make me older?"
"Er..."
Look, you're the one who mentioned Adam Driver. ^_~
False future! Do it! Having two of the Pantheon convinced that the world is going to practically end because of them makes for great storytelling opportunities.
Edit: Actually I'll share False Future theorising by email.
hS
He felt vaguely that there should have been sparks or a thunderclap or something to mark a fateful meeting of the gods, but in most respects it was a very normal handshake. Huh.
"I'm the Ellimist, but I was Henry before Ananke came and found me," he said. No need to respond directly to the Kylo Ren comment. "You're Tanfin? Er, were Tanfin?"
Yes. Yes I did.
... Yeah, I stand by that. ^_^
Email ahoy!
~Neshomeh
Yavanna looked the blue god up and... well, further up, since he was significantly taller than Yavanna himself, for all that the latter was two years older. It just didn't make...
... ah. Yavanna threw a look at his oldest sister, who had returned to practicing her scowl. "That's why Jas' was talking about making her older," he concluded. "Ellimist... I don't think I know the name. You're a god of... growth?" He cocked his head, considering. "No, probably not, with the blue. Age, or something? I don't know, I'm just guessing. This," he waved a hand, and a green aura flickered around his fingers for a moment, "is all very new to me."
"Is that why you were late?" Bella piped up. "Because you shouldn't be late, Tanfin. Hen- the Ellimist wouldn't be late, and he met a creepy old woman."
"You shouldn't call him Tanfin," Jasmine hissed in her best stage whisper. "He's Yavanna now, remember? Respect that."
"Oh, right." Bella bobbed a curtsey that would probably have looked better were she not in a somewhat muddy Sprout uniform. "Sorry, Yavanna." Her brow furrowed for a moment. "Wait - isn't Yavanna a girl?"
"Bel-la!" The whisper was even louder now. "Respect it!"
I'm sure this isn't the first time the girls have run into the concept of names or genders changing; it sounds like the main word that's gotten stuck in their heads is 'respect', without being too clear how you use it.
If later art shows the Ellimist as Adam Driver, you have only yourself to blame. ^_~
hS
The Ellimist had to think about it for a moment. He had never styled himself a god; others had done that for him. It was true enough, but it didn't help him answer the question.
"I wouldn't be late," he agreed with Bella. "Nor would I be early. In fact," he went on, quite warming to the bit, "I think I would arrive precisely when I mean to." After pausing for the chortle (or the groans) a line like that deserved, he continued more seriously. "Ananke named me the Transcendental Presence—the Last Effect and the First Cause. I am... that which enables growth.
"And I know you, or at least, I know of you, Yavanna, Giver of Fruits, Queen of the Earth." The Ellimist smiled. "I like you. We should hang out!" He glanced at the girls. "And, uh, your sisters can come, too?"
I'm not sure if I want to have Ilraen turn up before or after time travel shenanigans happen. After might be better for maximum tween freak-out. Also because he might just end up dragging them all off to see Henry's mom, or at least trying. The wee gods might end up dragging him along with them instead. We'll see how it shakes out, I guess.
I am very okay with Young Adam Driver being used as a ref for Henry. ^_^
~Neshomeh
Bella immediately latched onto her brother's arm. "Pleeeease, Yavanna?"
Yavanna exchanged a look with Jasmine, who had adopted her usual long-suffering expression. "I... yes?" he said. "Hanging out... I'm not sure what that would constitute." He blinked, and gave the Ellimist a wary look. "I mean because of who we are, of course."
"He doesn't," Jasmine said instantly. "He means because there's not many kids back home."
"Jas!" Yavanna gave the Ellimist a pleading look. "Are you sure you can't age her out of this attitude?"
I vote for Ilraen after; we don't want reliable sources to back up the Ominous Future, that takes all the fun out of it!
hS
"I really shouldn't. And you can never be totally sure if making a change like that will help or make things worse, anyway. Uh, no offense, Jas." This was, perhaps, not entirely sincere. "But!" he went on quickly. An idea was forming in his mind—a great idea. "What if we could go and see what it might be like? Do you guys wanna see the future?"
He was pretty sure that was within the rules, more or less. And it wasn't like he was actively trying to change anything at the moment, so it probably didn't count anyway. Plus, this was the PPC. Weirder things than casual time travel happened to people all the time. Yeah, this was brilliant, and it would be fun, and maybe impress Yavanna, and maybe even cheer Jasmine up, too!
After it is, then. ^_^
Looks like Jasmine's career in time travel gets off to an early start!
~Neshomeh
... maybe even peeved. It was the sort of expression you might see on the face of a thirteen year old who's just realised his powers of "make trees grow real good" have been wildly outclassed.
Bella had no such qualms. She released Yavanna and flung her arms around the Ellimist instead. "Yes! Oh yes please!"
Jasmine tried (and failed) to hide a similar level of excitement. "Where - when can we go?" she asked. "Can we see ourselves as grown-ups?"
"Space!" Bella squealed. "Let's go see the PPC in space!"
Yavanna exchanged a look with the Ellimist, remembering what Ananke had said: Within two years... "Maybe something a little closer would be better?"
I think with Daphne being a fairly calm child, Bella never grew out of being 'the baby girl', so she's got the whole let's-hug-everyone thing going on.
I had to check whether Ananke's name had come up prior to this. ^_^; Luckily, El-Ahrairah namedrops her.
(I'm sure Yavanna can do more with his powers; he just hasn't thought of it yet.)
hS
The Ellimist was too excited to be really annoyed at her, even with the hugging. Yavanna's words gave him pause, though. He remembered what Ananke had said, too.
"Yeah, we should probably start small. Maybe just one year first," he agreed. In part, though he didn't feel like admitting it out loud, because a bit of him was insisting he'd never actually done this before and might even be a little scared.
But that was ridiculous. He was the Ellimist. Space and time were just so much putty in his hands.
Speaking of which... He reached into his pockets and pulled out two objects: First, a hat knitted ingeniously to look like a Klein bottle, its spout feeding into its side in an unbroken loop. Its shape was faintly wizardly, too, and it matched his scarf. He put it on. Second, a glowing blue cube. It wasn't that blue cube, and it might not actually have existed at all. It was a little bit more and a little bit less than a three-dimensional solid. It was an idea given form. A touchstone.
He held it out in his off-hand. "Everybody put a hand on this." Did he need to do it this way? No, probably not. But it seemed like a good idea, just to make everyone feel like there was a reliable method to this. And it left his other hand free. He raised it up high. "Ready?"
Because three small sticks and four cc's of mouse blood. {= )
The hat is probably silly, but don't tell him!
~Neshomeh
Yavanna's lips flickered into a smile as he pressed a hand to the cube. "And I."
Jasmine rolled her eyes. "'And I'," she echoed, quote marks falling firmly into place.
"Where shall we go?" Bella squeaked, then frowned at her siblings. "You're supposed to say it too!"
"Just put your hand on the box, Bella."
I love the Beanie of Space and Time. ^_^
Apologies to Will Shakespeare; Dafydd and Constance have given their kids some weird in-jokes.
(They're all touching the cube now, in case that wasn't clear.)
hS
I seemed to float in a place like nothing I had seen or imagined. All around me I saw massive, twisted lines of pure power, snapping and colorshifting. I saw numbers, deluges of them, I could hear them roaring around my ears. I reached out a vast hand and could run it over the curves of space itself. I could stroke the very curves of space-time.
I saw . . . I saw everything, the inside, underside, inner, and outer of everything at once.
—The Ellimist Chronicles, chapter 27
No purely verbal description could do it justice, of course. Mortal minds could not comprehend the Something Beyond—and the Ellimist was sure to shield the girls from most of it for their transit. It filled every sense and none; it was the trailing past, the raveling present, the infinitely branching streams of the future. Even the Ellimist could only take in so much at once.
He quickly recognized the strands of his own life (how vast he was now, and Yavanna beside him!) and those of the people closest to him. One in particular seemed unbelievably potent in comparison to the rest, but so tightly wound and compacted to resemble the majority that only a little of its relative brilliance shone through. Was that... Mom? What the...? He noted with some dismay that as far as he could see her timeline appeared to remain closely linked with the otherwise-ordinary one shot through with white-gold reeking of attar where it had broken and reformed, over and over and over and—yeah, that was Jacques. Bugger. And in a few years... huh. Weird. But what else did he expect from that guy?
He could have stopped and stared for ages (figuratively speaking; time was meaningless in this state), but not while he had companions with him. He sifted through the strands of time, like skeins of yarn through his fingers, looking for a suitable place to insert a year hence. Here—here was a great convergence of energies so dense he could hardly parse it. Surely something miraculous that would occur in the wake of the gods' return! That was it, then.
They arrived, the Courtyard of the future dissolving into being around them. Only three heartbeats would have seemed to pass.
I had to. That, too. Yes, and that. ^_^
~Neshomeh
"Stars!" he gasped. "What in the Void?"
"Tanfin?" Bella grabbed at his arm. "Um, Yavanna, I mean. What's wrong?"
Jasmine, meanwhile, was looking around with a critical eye. "Is this the future?" she asked. "It's a bit of a mess. What's that?"
Yavanna straightened up, shaking off Bella's hands, and tried to focus. "It's screaming," he said, his voice ragged. "They're screaming."
It had been woodland before their trip to the future: a small copse of copper and silver birch, the sort of place birds might nest.
Now, it was a fortress.
The trees had grown enormous, their once-slender trunks several feet wide. Their roots and boughs had woven together, forging an impenetrable wall which gleamed with near-metallic light. A single staircase, flanked by branches curled into claws, led up to a circular summit, and what could only be described as a throne of living wood, .
Yavanna reached up and touched his crown. The bastion's design was almost identical. "But it can't be," he murmured, "I wouldn't... can't you hear them screaming?"
This could be his or Gaia's work, or potentially the Raven Queen sending Yavanna a message.
D'you reckon this should be the only stop for the Magic School Bus, or should we go on to 2 years later as well? I'm happy to drop a full 'gods gone wild' future right here, but can also make it 'gods gone a bit hubris' and save the properly crazy stuff for later. :)
hS
First at Yavanna, with concern, and then at the living fortress of wood. It was amazing, incredible, exactly the sort of wondrous thing you might expect a god to do...
But it was also bad. He might not be directly tuned in to the trees like Yavanna was, but here, now, with the timeline thrumming over him, he could feel and smell how something was off, like there was an exposed wire somewhere getting hot and starting to smoke. What was that? He couldn't believe Yavanna would do anything to hurt the trees, that didn't make sense, so why was this so wrong?
Well, they wouldn't get answers standing around here, that was for sure. He put a hand on Yavanna's shoulder. "Let's get out of here. Come on, we'll go see what's happening somewhere else."
He led the little group toward the exit.
I like this being stop one of two. I figure they'll look around a bit, go "jeez, this is weird," and decide they need to see how it all turns out in the end. ^_^
~Neshomeh
But as the two gods and their two hangers-on walked through the corridors, they started to notice some things that seemed... out-of-place.
Like: the hallway which looked ordinary, but felt like an ever-steeper uphill slope, until at last they had to turn back.
Like: occasional traces of fur or feathers on the ground, evidence of vicious fights between rabbits and ravens (and apparently pigeons as well) .
Like: a portal hanging open in an empty RC, its blue glow tinged with insidious black.
When they came to the broken corridor, Yavanna brought the group to a halt. Actinic blue light filled the hall from wall to wall, but through it they could see scorch marks, areas of grey that seemed bleached white, and a great twisting crack which seemed to have set the whole hallway askew.
Yavanna poked at the blue glow, hissed in surprise and snatched his hand back. "I don't like this," he said, taking his sisters' hands and holding them tight.
When I do a circle image for this, I think it will include at least one god being dead. Not sure who. :)
Have fun spotting who's been misbehaving!
I didn't put in anything from Future Ellimist, in case you had something in mind.
hS
He didn't much like it, either. "Looks like there was a big fight. Or an explosion? Or both? How come it's blocked off and not fixed?" He didn't expect an answer, but he looked at Yavanna and the girls anyway, worried and annoyed that his brilliant idea of a fun trip to the future wasn't going well. "I don't get it. Everything should be, you know, amazing. When we jumped, I saw that there's a bunch like us. I thought we'd be doing really cool things, not..." He gestured down the hall and waved his hand around to include all the other weird and faintly disturbing stuff, too.
Hmm, Future Ellimist... I kinda wonder if he blocked off the dangerous section here, actually? I used "actinic blue" in reference to him before...
Apart from that, if this is a future where he goes full-on delusions of grandeur, I could see entire sections of HQ reformed to be "better." Like, why can't we have a bit that looks like Hogwarts, or the Enterprise, or anywhere with an actual sky? Heck, if all the gods are pulling similar stunts, maybe after two years the place is so mixed up and twisted it's like what happened with the Time Matrix, except with ~twelve people and a multiverse's worth of ideas in the mix instead of just three.
I'm sure it starts off with well intended efforts to do good and protect people from the others (while also being impressive). Then resentment at anyone suggesting he might be going too far creeps in, and it culminates in "I am a god, and I'll do whatever I want!"
And maybe his mother could stop him, but not without escalating things to an unacceptable level, because that needs lampshading. >.>
~Neshomeh
Yavanna stared at the flickering blue. "Maybe, maybe it's Suvians, or wraiths, or..." His hand drifted up to touch his crown, recalling the bastion in the Courtyard. "Or one of those other PPC... things," he finished lamely.
"I don't think it's you," Bella said, grabbing her brother's hand and squeezing. "You're Yavanna. Dad told us about you: you make things grow."
"Grow..." Yavanna reached into a pocket and produced an acorn. "There's a thought. We could fix this." He tossed the nut from hand to hand, a golden light rising in his eyes. "Ellimist - we could put it right. If something's happened to," he shied away from saying 'us', "to the PPC in the future, we could sort it out!"
That's definitely more of a Tanfin idea than a Yavanna one. Hope Ellimist is able to keep him from monkeying with the timeline!
We've got a lot of blue-themed gods... I vaguely had Lucian in mind, but no reason it can't be Ellimist!
I love the notion of the Ellimist warping HQ itself; we could even appear in such a section after the next jump. As for Jenni... yeah, lampshade it, unless Future Ellimist does something like time-looping her to just get her safely out of the way.
hS
The Ellimist nodded slowly at first, then quicker, with confidence. "Yeah—I bet we do! If we're fighting, or, or whatever we're doing, it has to be for a good reason, right? And then we'll make it better. That's what we both do."
He knew the gods were responsible for the strange things they'd seen; the amount of miraculous activity was why he'd stopped at this particular point on the timeline. But that didn't mean it was their fault—especially not him and Yavanna. They were obviously Good Guys.
But that fortress... It hadn't looked or, more importantly, felt very nice. If it had really been screaming...
Nah. Even if it was, it would all be okay in the end, and he could prove it, too. He held out the blue cube again. "Here: we'll jump ahead again and see what happens after the second year. I'm sure it will be better."
He hoped he sounded more sure than he really felt.
Sorry for the delay! Too many ideas on the brain; but I don't want to leave this behind, I promise.
~Neshomeh
Yavanna reached out and pressed his hand to the cube. "It'd probably be bad to interfere anyway, right?"
"That's what Dad always says about the Valar," Jasmine agreed, her hand joining his. "They never interfere."
"And then he starts swearing," Bella added, pressing her own hand in. "He knows all sorts of words." She grinned up at the Ellimist. "Like the Q-word. Do you know the Q-word, The Ellimist?"
Sorry about the delay... it's been busy.
And a preview of what they're getting themselves into:
hS
"Just 'Ellimist' is fine when you're talking to me," he said. "And yes; of course I do." He took a breath. "Okay, here we go."
Klik.
Reality dissolved away, and the Something Beyond rushed in all around.
At the first glance ahead, he almost changed his mind and turned tail for the present. The two-year future wasn't better than the one-year future. It was not at all better. It was, in fact, much worse.
So many of the bright and shining life-force cords of the gods were gone, snuffed out in ways he didn't dare contemplate. How could that even happen? They were gods.
His own and Yavanna's were still whole, thank goodness, but they weren't right. And—though he felt embarrassed to want reassurance badly enough to look—Mom's was still there, too, though oddly... contained. Isolated. From him in particular. What was that about?
Noninterference, he thought. It was something Mom talked about, too, even though he could recall thinking sometimes that her whole purpose in life must be to interfere in his. Not to mention her job, and the number of times he'd seen her go out of her way to make another person's business her own outside of FicPsych. (Fine when it was over something cool, like fire-lizard eggs; not fine when it was over someone Henry didn't even know when they were just supposed to be enjoying a holiday party or having a fun day out in New Cal or something.) He understood that that was small potatoes compared to a whole canon, which was the usual context for such conversation... but by the same token, if something were wrong with him, or his brother, or anyone who was close to any of them, he wouldn't have thought any power in the multiverse would have been able to stop her doing something about it, and that was before he'd seen her cord.
Any power short of an actual Power, anyway.
And that was terrifying. As much as he had sometimes wished Mom would leave him alone and let him do what he wanted, he would never have imagined himself to be emotionally hard enough to make her.
So, he almost turned around and brought his friends straight back to when they'd started in 2020. The only reason he didn't was that he needed to see this future to fully believe it, and he hoped the inside view would help him understand what had gone wrong, too.
Reality faded back in. The Ellimist braced himself and prepared to jump away again immediately if it was too dangerous for the girls.
He looked around.
Then he said the Q-word.
I don't know the Q-word, but I figure any self-respecting PPC kid can swear fluently in at least half a dozen fictional languages, and it was such a good set-up I couldn't resist. {= )
(I'm pretty sure PPC kids should also know at least a little conversational Sindarin and/or Quenya, too, given the Elven population of HQ and its historical close involvement with the Tolkienverse.)
Welcome back!
~Neshomeh
In Animorphs, the device that lets the kids all get their morphing powers?
...it's a cube. I can't remember if you've read the books before or not, but I just wanted to let you know you got a good laugh out of me for that. also Henry—er, the Ellimist is adorable, I wanna pinch his cheeks
Yeah, the cube was not lost on me, either. Brilliant. I love it. ^_^ Loved the sifting through the timestream bit, too. Like trying to find your place in a book you had to put down suddenly. And his shoulder pads put me in mind of pages from a book, too.
... I might headcanon the scarf to be a Moebius scarf and say he has a matching Klein bottle hat in his pocket. {= D
What did all of that look like from Bella's perspective? Or any bystander's, for that matter? Does the chosen one just seem to get a sudden costume change, perhaps in a flash of light...? I know nothing about this canon, so I'm at a loss!
I'm also not sure what a newly minted avatar of the Transcendental Presence does with a ten-year-old hugging him, but I'll figure that one out myself. ^_~
~Neshomeh
From the character's perspective, they fall down a giant cylinder of Ananke-faces while their body and clothing gets covered up and transformed and they hear their identity being recited. It's less clear what an outsider sees, but presumably they vanish for a moment and reappear dramatically in costume.
I've assumed that the Ananke-faces are a visual cue for the reader. Ultimately, my ascensions are just the 'covered up and changed' phase writ large. (Lucifer got covered in fire, for instance). I've drifted a bit over time, but hopefully they're faithful enough.
There was at least one ascension with other people around... Tara, I think?
Oh, and (2014 Pantheon #12, who I guess is spoilers). There's two observers who look like they've just been startled, so I think the transformation is instant in the real world - it just takes longer for the new god.
hS
Bored. Again.
This happened, from time to time - whatever had caught his fancy suddenly lost its luster, and Apecian, now having nothing to fix his attention on, was left very, very, very bored. But he wasn't one to sulk about it - well, he tried not to be, anyways. So he was here, in the Courtyard, idly looking for someone who wouldn't mind doing something with him.
You wouldn't think you'd be able to find a tangle of trees as thick as the one he was currently walking through in this sort of place, but, well, HQ had a way of twisting itself up and throwing impossibilities at you that you just sort of had to get used to. Not that landscapes weren't completely insane in actual worlds half the time, anyways.
As he picked his way over a snarl of roots, he saw a woman, dressed in black. He broke into a grin and started walking towards her - yes, a person! - then paused when he saw the veil over her face. That was one of those mourning veils, wasn't it? Should he back off for a while, give her some space...? But, no - she wasn't crying, or anything, and was actually walking towards him. He nodded to himself, and started towards her again.
"Hey there," he called, once she was within earshot. "Do I know you?" Didn't hurt to ask, what with how some people went through faces around here.
Apecian was pretty sure she smiled at that, but those eyes - those eyes - made it even harder to tell than it would have been otherwise.
"Yes," she said.
Alright, so let's go! First, the easy part - descriptions! Apecian is a lightly-built guy, just shy of six feet, and has dark, slightly curly hair that he would keep short if it ever bothered to grow that much. His eyes have slit pupils, and it's rare to catch him without at least a bit of a smile on his face. For a (hopefully) usable image reference, allow me to pull his from his page and put it here.
... Goodness gracious that's back from when everyone was using Rinmaru wow I need to write something Soon yeesh.
Anyways - as for who he'll be taking the role of? I'm going with Exalted's Gaia. She's not the Greek Earth Mother, I'm pretty sure she's just called Gaia because whenever you have a character with earth-ish powers and anything resembling a maternal bent. It's not the maternal aspect I'm focusing on here, though - Exalted's Gaia is effectively the concept of Growth itself. She is - for a very oversimplified description which mightn't be wholly accurate since I may or may not be speedrunning rulebooks (2E, if you're curious) as a refresher to make sure I get in on time and most of them are very light on details about her - the idea of a thing being able to become more than it is. I'm pretty sure, anyways. She does have powers over the natural world of Creation, but those may or may not apply here since those powers come from it being her literal body, in the same way as the other Primordials have control over their bodies (though theirs are a lot weirder).
Assuming this is an acceptable submission, for his godly form, whatever he's wearing might be best if it looks... complete, but incomplete. Like there's something more yet to be added. Or maybe just like he hasn't quite grown into it yet. And now that I think about it, it probably ought to have some draconic elements added in, and fire, water, and air influences. And also probably ought to have some... actually, honestly, I'm not entirely sure what aesthetic Exalted is going for. ... Or if that's too much, which it could be and which is perfectly understandable, a more classic earth deity aesthetic with minimalistic senses would work. By which I mean chop off as much as feels amusing, because what's the point of fancy clothes if you're just going to literally burst out of them in a minute or three anyways?
"You are of the Pantheon."
The trees closed in, in a world that Apecian suddenly found far too small.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead."
It was all too small, too simple; he saw now, as if he was looking for the first time. But he could fix that; he could take this undeveloped world and make of it the best version of itself.
"You are the Last Primordial," the strange woman's voice went on, but Apecian had all but tuned her out. "The essence of the elements." He gathered knowledge. "Of life." Power. "Of growth." Strength and inspiration. "Of all things that strive."
The Courtyard returned, and in his hands Apecian held the sum of its nature, an emerald kernel on which he could work his will. In front of him, almost forgotten, the stranger looked at him with grave eyes.
"We meet again, Gaia," she said, her brow furrowing slightly. "Despite everything, I have missed you."
Ananke is implying here that she's had bad experiences with Gaia in the past. Gaia can believe that or not as you choose. :) The whole 'ultimate power!' thing I'm imagining as just an effect of the ascension; feel free to run with it or drop it as you please.
The orb in his hands is... well, I'm not sure. I've found a mention of an emerald comet named the Harbinger of Shining Promise, so it could be a manifestation of that. Or it could just be magic.
Exalted seems to go in for armour and robes, so I've used a bit of both. All the armour could provide more coverage, and the robe could be belted - this is my attempt at 'unfinished'. The elements would be in the colour scheme, were there one. (He also has long hair now, but not neatly styled - again, unfinished.) (He may or may not have a crown of vines; that's up to you.)
Gaia has a lot in common with Yavanna; I bet they could do a brilliant duet.
hS
He knew so much now, could do so much, was so much. Existence was - as it would be for any Primordial - complicated, but he thought he could feel himself underneath his feet, and had to restrain himself from reaching up to check. Excited as he was, he didn't really want to cause an earthquake here if he was right. He focused on the miniature comet sitting within his hands - oh, he knew what this was. ... Or, should be. It wasn't quite that, at least, not yet - who knew how things might change? Or, well - grow. Well - it could be important, and he wanted to see at least some of what he could do. Gaia reached into the earth beneath him, thought, focused. He was Wood - but he was also Fire, and Water, and Air, and Earth - all of the Earth. Metal - no, no, that wouldn't do. Jade would suit far better now. Stone shifted at his will, and soon, jade wrought into a simple necklace was revealed by the shifting dirt around him. He reached down and scooped it up, and held out the... well, the word that came most quickly to mind was 'cup', but he knew that wasn't right, but time enough to search for it later. He held it out to the kernel, which nestled into its temporary new home. He dropped the chain about his neck, then thought - what now? He wanted to try something, wanted to use his talents to do more - but, no, not yet. What had she said?
At last, he was able to pull himself out of the reverie brought on by the ascension, and look up at Ananke. "Despite everything," Gaia said. He frowned a little. He would have thought that, if something... unpleasant had happened, the memories would have found their way to this incarnation, but - well. He didn't exactly know everything here, did he? "What do ya mean by that?"
Well, he's not exactly the skeptical sort, so he's at least going to ask - though who knows if he'll get an answer. :P
And oh, I rather do like the design! It looks - well, sort of like something he's forgotten a few pieces to, which is basically what I was going for! A crown might come later, but it's probably not inherent - I get the feeling neither he nor Gaia Prime are the sort to lord their position over others. That's Malfeas' job. :P
As for the Herald of Shining Promise - assuming I'm recalling correctly, that would be Gaia's fetich soul. The Primordials have a very weird internal structure involving multiple souls that all make up a fundamental self, with the fetiches being the most primary, and all or most of these souls usually having their own subsouls which are also full entities, because Exalted Is... Exalted. I'm considering messing around with that - amusingly enough, it might actually work in a way for him - but not yet, at least. There'll be time enough for that later. So it could just be a little ball of magic he's taken a fancy to, or a developing embodiment of his core self - he's not entirely certain himself yet, by which I mean I'm not and gods aren't omniscient, even when they're foundational concepts of reality and possibly the planet, so he gets to share.
Oh! Quick Question Addendum - might they inherit any vague-information-type memories or emotional connections from the original deities, or would that be completely discrete, and how much mastery would they typically have of their new talents?
"Perhaps that is for the best." She clasped her hands behind her back and studied Gaia. "It is of little import... suffice to say that the strength of your powers, and your... imminent nature has led you down dark paths in the past." A smile flickered, lightning-fast, across her face. "But you will rise above that. I love you, Gaia; and I have missed you."
Do the gods remember their past incarnations? Some claim to. 1920s Set constantly namedrops long-dead people she claims to have met, including multiple Roman Emperors and I believe one of the 12 Apostles. Few of the others do that explicitly, but they all treat their future incarnations as their own future - as in 'I'll see you in ninety years'.
To both this and the powers question - and most others, actually - the best approach is to ask what your character would expect to happen. Does Gaia believe that as a new incarnation he should remember everything and be in perfect control? Then he probably is. Does he believe himself a blank slate who has been 'imprinted' with Gaia but needs to learn how to truly be him? Then that's probably what'll happen.
hS
Still - Ananke didn't seem to be panicking about it, so Gaia wasn't too worried. He smiled at her, and said, "Well - I haven't missed you yet, but I probably will have when I remember everything." After all, this would be like waking up from a long sleep, he expected - the memories would filter back bit by bit, and then he'd know what she was talking about. "And on the note of rising above - I should probably go check out the new things I can do, right? And talk to some people. Though I'll see you around, I'm sure." He grinned, and for a brief moment, his soul - souls? No, not yet, at least - seemed to dart through the nearby trees, and he Saw more than he had before. He quickly clamped down on that, but not before he'd managed to run facefirst into himself - by which he meant a tree. "Oof," Gaia said quietly, pushing himself away from the trunk. He then blinked, wondering for a moment why he couldn't seem to see anything, before realizing his hair had fallen in front of his face. Well, that would take some getting used to.
But for the moment, well - it was handleable. He held out a palm to the tree, and it was but a moment before a small bug came crawling down the trunk, and but another moment before that bug had somehow - he felt like he might have been able to explain if he really tried, but he wasn't interested right now - managed to produce a long line of silk, which he used to tie his hair back. As he did so, something - longing? Dread? Hope? Grief? - struck him, and a handful of memories came with it. He paused, then turned around, hoping Ananke hadn't already left. "Hey, Ananke - are any of my sibs here? Or... or Luna?"
As for whether she has left - your call. I just figured this ought to make for an easy enough way to transition out, and that leaving you hanging would be rude. :P
Her hands moved, gathering her veil in front of her as if shielding herself. "There are many gods known in this place," she said, "many who might wish to walk these halls once more. Yet you children are but few." She paused, and a breeze seemed to ripple her black dress. "I will not say there are none of your kindred here," she said at last, "for I have not yet found all those I seek. But I counsel you not to hope for it. It is better to seek new friendships than to mourn those absent - though it may be that the absences will find their expression in your song."
With that, she walked away, vanishing between the tangled trees, and leaving Gaia with more questions than answers.
There will be a micro-RP set on the 2nd, where Ananke will be taking questions from as many of the Pantheon who care to attend. I'll probably start it tomorrow, once I've got the opening picture drawn. :)
hS
...or at least, she had every intention of being busy. As she padded through the halls of headquarters, she mentally catalogued the possibilities for today. She needed to train, she needed to spend more time in a human disguise, she needed to find some trinkets or tradeable things so she could start saving up, but all those thoughts seemed to be slipping out of her mind. She simply kept padding along the concrit floors, a vague stew of regret bubbling in her thoughts. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. "There's no time to think about them, alright? I just need to go," she told herself. "What's done is done. Leave the dead behind." She decided she'd go to the holodeck, get some training done. She'd do a thousand other useful things that day, too, just to make a point to herself. But as she took her first step and started to find something to not-focus on, her eyes snapped towards an old woman, a woman that surely hadn't been there before. She slunk close to the floor, having decided that she did not trust whoever this might be. Despite the Calico's attempts to evade the woman, Ananke looked at her, and the Calico saw. She felt a wound open in her side as she began to fall.
((So, The Ambitious Calico is, fortunately, a calico. Slightly smaller than you might expect of a housecat, but other than that she looks as you'd expect a calico to look. Her eyes are a typical feline yellow. She occasionally wears a belt/skirt covered in pouches/bags, but just as often doesn't. I've given her Stone, from her home canon of Fallen London... if you need help with Stone, please let me know, Fallen London is extremely stingy with its lore. Stone is a mountain known as the Mountain of Light in the South of the Neath, and is generally connected to themes of sacrifice, healing, life, and kindness, for the curious. Apologies for the odd lorebits.))
"You are of the Pantheon."
The earth opened beneath the Calico and swallowed her whole. Countless tonnes of stone closed over her, entombing her.
"You will be loved." The voice was a murmur in the rock, the only sound in endless weight. "You will be hated. You will be brilliant.
"Within two years, you will be dead." The slightest pause. "All nine times."
There was no sense of movement, no rushing of air as the Calico fell, but she knew - somehow she knew - she was falling into the Earth's very heart. The pressure built, crushing her, unbearable.
Then the Earth's heart opened to her, and she remembered that even coal, under enough pressure, can become diamond.
"You are the Mountain of Light. The mother of winds. Of life. Of adamant.
"You are the heart and soul of the world."
And she was light, stepping into HQ with all the unstoppable assurance of a landslide. She looked up at the human woman, and golden eyes met clear-sky blue.
"We meet again, Stone," the woman said, her lips curving into a smile. "I've missed you." She hesitated for a moment, then held out a hand. "Would you like a stroke?"
A cat cosplaying as a mountain. o.O I think you win the prize for the most creative pick.
Since I have no idea how you'd put a belt on a cat, I've left it off. The art here is deliberately imprecise - is that a diamond or markings? What's going on with her tail? Halo of light, mountain-shaped aura, or path into the distance? I mean... she's a mountain now, trying to capture that was always going to be weird.
I apologise for the cat jokes. Feel free to bite her; she probably won't blow your head off for your impudence.
hS
before she leaped into Ananke's arms and pressed tightly and warmly against the older woman.
"I imagine I'm not the first." Stone murmured. "You must be tired, Ananke. I hope it hasn't been too hard for you." Ananke began softly stroking Stone's shining fur.
"It is what it is. As much as I already grieve what is to come, for the moment I am merely happy to see you again. To see all of you." Ananke replied. For a moment, Stone closed her eyes and stayed close to Ananke.
"I have died before, I think." she sighed. "Before this. There was only ever so much time. So I suppose I should begin, then. My sacrifice has been made." Stone reluctantly left being pet behind, leapt from Ananke's arms, and dipped her head in farewell. She began staggering down the hallways, the wound in her side occasionally giving her some trouble.
You've got Ananke spot on here - nice one.
Incidentally, I think your paragraph breaks are being swallowed by the Board. The formatting requires an empty line between paragraphs or it runs them straight into each other.
hS
I'm glad! I totally didn't go through like all her early lines to make sure I had her so I'm glad it was worth it
Maryanne didn't know how it got in there, but it was very interesting to watch - it looked sort-of like a crane, only it was black and had a weird frill around the base of its neck with a white-orange-red gradient. It didn't seem to care about its surroundings or the small number of kids staring at it.
A small sprite highly reminiscent of a peacock shifted in unease from where she was tucked against the crook of Maryanne's neck. "I don't trust that thing," Pommi said softly, a mild quiver in her voice.
"I didn't know peacocks were territorial." Maryanne snickered, though her tone was light and clearly in jest.
Pommi groaned, probably rubbing her face in exasperation. "We're not having this conversation again. I'm not literally a peacock and that bird should not be trusted."
"It's just a bird." Maryanne waved off Pommi's concerns. "Not like it can do anything-"
The bird opened its beak and the split-second that took was all the warning they got before the air filled with the overwhelming sound of a beast. Maryanne stumbled backwards and tripped over a chair, her startled cry lost in the cacophony of children screaming and crying and that damn bird.
The ruffling sound of wings hitting air abruptly approached and something scraped against Maryanne's forehead, yanking at her bangs and then it was gone, the pain fading to a dull ache. Maryanne didn't even need to touch her hair to know that her hair clip was gone, Pommi was gone.
She didn't remember stumbling to her feet or charging out of the Nursery in chase of the bird. Afterward, all she could remember of the chase was light glinting off of the ornate hair clip sticking out of the thing's beak.
Maryanne stumbled to a halt somewhere in the Generic Halls of HQ, leaning against the wall for support as she caught her breath. There wasn't time before to really feel anything, but now that she was forced to stop there was nothing to hold back her fear and panic because Pommi was gone.
There was a clink of something metal falling to the ground. As Maryanne looked around for the source, something caught her eye and her body lurched forward before she could think. Only when she felt the smooth metal of her Miraculous clenched tight in both hands did she become aware of the fact that she was ungracefully sprawled over the floor in her haste, at the feet of the demon in bird form that'd stolen Pommi in the first place.
Maryanne didn't have the energy to do much other than glare. This did not seem to concern the bird.
As her breathing quieted, a soft tapping of steps could be heard. An old woman in mourning clothes appeared, and with that appearance the bird was gone.
They locked eyes. Maryanne blinked, and then everything was different.
Maryanne is taking up the mantle of Lady Kee'ra, a protector/warrior figure known for using a dagger. Maryanne herself is almost a carbon-copy of Marinette, though switch out the pigtails for a side ponytail and the white shirt with a solid red one.
Lady Kee'ra's design, as are the designs of her weapons, is based off of the warbaa'd (the bird that stole Pommi's Miraculous, in fact). She's cloaked in a sacred battle robe, and on the forehead of her mask is the Khura'inese character for death, a mark of resolve to fight to the end. Also! There's an in-universe TV show inspired by the legend of Lady Kee'ra, called The Plumed Punisher and it's a very good condensation/modernization(?) of Lady Kee'ra's design (the green shape is a magatama, a common item of spiritual power in Khura'inism).
And I'm stopping myself there. Let's say the the wiki pages alone were not up to my standards of fixation detail.
"You are of the Pantheon."
Maryanne fell through fire, and wasn't burned.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant."
She reached out, wondering, and gasped as what she had taken to be flames revealed themselves as feathers, blazing scarlet and razor sharp.
"Within two years, you will be dead."
The feathers, the blades, were within her now, drawn in through the serpentine wound they had cut. She was a bird - no, she was a knife, elegant and keen, and the dance of battle sang in her veins.
"You are the Lady of the Dagger. Protector of your sister's realm. Of the peace. Of war. Unrelenting, undefeated, unequalled."
The world reappeared, and Maryanna dropped into a crouch, arms wide, daggers ready. The old woman stood above her, her own arms held out in greeting.
"We meet again, Lady Kee'ra," she said. "I've missed you."
These were actually really easy costumes to combine for some reason. The basic shape formed the instant I saw Lady Kee'ra, and I didn't have to change her much along the way. The ponytail worked its way in very naturally. Thank you for the references, they were exactly the right level.
I've drawn that as her actual face, but like the Raven Queen, Lady Kee'ra probably has a mask somewhere if you want it.
No idea what her powers, are, other than... y'know, stabbing. I'm picturing her performance as more dance than song, cutting inspiration from the very air with her blades.
And with that, we are officially halfway to a full Pantheon! I wasn't sure I was going to get six gods, let alone within three days, so this feels really good. :)
An unrelated aside, to anyone concerned: Ananke isn't nearly this repetitive in the canon. The comic only shows us three? four? ascensions played straight, spread across 45 issues or so; they're an occasional set piece, not a consistent origin story. But they work very well for my purposes.
hS
It didn't take too long for that to run its' course, though, and she practically threw down her curved daggers in her efforts to accept the hug. Ananke probably spoke to her, but she couldn't remember a word with all the excitement.
At that, Lady Kee'ra -- no, not quite. Ihmsan was her true name, but the title of Lady Kee'ra was also her own -- remembered the hair clip that dastardly warbaa'd had taken, left forgotten on the floor from the ascension.
Detaching herself from Ananke, she stooped to pick up the Miraculous. Barely had she touched it when a wave of black and red spread over the surface from the tips of her fingers, the five peacock plumes turned to warbaa'd feathers. Pommi would certainly be in for a surprise...
Retrieving her weapons, Lady Kee'ra gave Ananke a hasty goodbye and set off to find somewhere decently private. There was much to tell her kwami, after all.
What no I'm not desperately trying to avoid writing Ananke's dialogue out of fear of getting her characterization wrong, what are you talking about.
(Also feel free to have anyone bump into Maryanne! I have no idea what I'm doing, but it's fun!)
On a different topic, this is actually one of the Khura'inese characters and I'm not sure whether that design choice of yours was intentional or coincidence but I absolutely love it and it's making my fangirl heart squeal. And, yes, Rayfa does indeed dance.
I really like the re-theming of her Miraculous; it sounds exactly like what one of the gods would do. :)
hS
Alleb did not often have time to herself, but when she did, she went to the shrine.
She wasn’t sure when she had first discovered the shrine: it had been sometime during the early days, when electric lights had blinded her and the sight of red eyes--human, electronic, vampiric, alien--had sent her hand straight to her sword. The shrine had blended in almost perfectly with all the other wonders of this strange new world. Almost. It had stuck in her mind just enough that, when the dust had settled and she had re-established some manner of order in her life, she had remembered it. Had sought it out. It had taken days of searching the hills of New Caledonia to find it again. Like most of HQ, it seemed to run when pursued directly. She’d had to hunt out of the corner of her eye, immerse herself in the transient beauty of the grass and the flowers, distract herself just enough to only barely notice when it appeared in the periphery of her sight.
There. Hidden among the rocks in a little valley, shrouded by trees: a small half-collapsed monument of white stone.
She had it now, and she was able to turn and face it directly without the sight shrinking away. It was a small circular building, the roof domed and topped with a little spire. It was a room without walls, not meant for shelter, made of white stone and partially covered in dead ivy. The trees seemed to open up for her as she approached, their fallen leaves whispering away from her blue cloak. She was a splash of color in this place. The surrounding rocks were all in greys, the sparse plants either brown or faded sage, the monument itself a blank white. Wind whistled through the boulders and she shivered pleasantly, pulling her cloak tighter at the chill.
She walked up the three shallow steps and entered the monument. Stillness settled on her as a second cloak. Her eyes closed to slits, glinting blue briefly, and she took in a breath. She let her hands fall out of her cloak, palms outward, open.
This was a place of certainties, she thought. A place that knew what it was and what it would be and what would happen to it. A place that contained all the loneliness and all the peace of a graveyard and a sanctuary.
There was a sound behind her, a scrape on the stones, incongruous with the peace. Alleb spun, shocked. No one, nothing, had ever found her here. She had thought it was impossible.
A woman stood just outside the monument, one foot on the top step. She was dressed in widow’s weeds, black as night, black as a raven’s wing. She stepped up, her face wreathed in dark lace that completely obscured her.
“Pardon, lady,” Alleb said, bowing. “If you have respects to pay, I will leave.” She straightened and took only a single step towards the woman before a gloved hand barred her way. Startled, she looked back up at the woman, and through the lace their eyes met.
Alleb dropped to one knee, not daring to take her eyes away. “A messenger,” she breathed, “an angel.”
The blue of the woman’s eyes flashed and glowed, and Alleb’s own brown eyes flashed blue to meet them, and she could feel herself rising--becoming--ascending.
To death, maybe, she thought. Or to some greater adventure, some task which required more of her than she had to give. She closed her eyes as she felt herself transform and knew--a certainty--that it would be a great task indeed.
What's this, an Alleb? Egads!
For those of you confused by my sudden appearance: I was pretty active in the PPC about three or four years ago, but I don't think I've posted on the Board for about that long. I've been lurking since quarantine started but never found the right time to fully pop back in on the Board--until now! Thank you for putting this on, hS; I love the concept! Also, uh, how are you? And all the other lovely Boarders? It has been a while!
Oh, yes, RP stuff: Agent Alleb has become the Raven Queen! I debated a bit on what to choose, but the white shrine appeared in my mind and I Needed it so here we are. Alleb looks like this, and it'd be real cool if she could have like, a raven wing cloak or something. I dunno, I leave the design particulars to your discretion, hS! Maybe some kind of mask/crown? The Raven Queen is rather mysterious.
Also, a note on the eye color stuff: Alleb has brown eyes, but a trait of her people (Glimpses) is that their eyes will "glint" certain colors based on their loyalties. Alleb's glint blue.
Anyone, thanks again hS; I'm looking forward to the divine hijinks!
-Alleb
"You are of the Pantheon."
Darkness flooded in around Alleb, but it carried with it no fear. It whispered to her as she fell, as she rose, teaching her its secrets in languages she would never understand.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant.
"Within two years, you will be dead."
She heard the messenger's words, but paid them little heed. The dark had her now, wrapping itself around her like a cloak.
"You are the Raven of the Shadows," the messenger said, and the dark whispered back. "The Queen of Secrets. Of mysteries. Of memories. All that is lost comes to you in time."
A single beat, of sable wings as wide as the night, and Alleb was gone.
Ananke looked into the darkness and smiled. A single ebon feather fluttered to the ground, and all was still.
"Welcome back, Raven Queen," the veiled woman said to the empty shrine. "I've missed you."
As if the Raven Queen would stick around for a hug. ^_~
In my mind (and you're free to keep or discard any of this), she's carrying a full raven-head mask/helmet under her other arm (which I didn't put on her because then you couldn't tell who she was before!). I also imagine that if you go to one of her concerts, you never actually see her. You know she's there, but...
Also: I would dearly love El-Ahrairah to get the wrong end of the stick and think she's the Raven King, the forefather of English Magic. She doesn't seem like the sort to explain his mistake, either. ^_^
(And, hey! Alleb! It's great to see you again. Hope you have fun with this, she seems like a great goddess to play with.)
hS
Sure, Elanor's birthday wasn't until November, and he was absolutely risking her finding the child-sized tool kit he'd enlisted Alex's help to find, but it would be worth it to see the smile on her face.
...Even if that smile would likely be a mischievous one after he would find her in the middle of unwrapping it the next day. Oh well; he never missed the chance to spoil the Time Tot, since her own mother certainly couldn't.
He rounded a corner and paused when he saw the old woman standing in the middle of the corridor, her face covered by a veil. Zeb had watched far too many horror movies with the Aviator—usually through his fingers, or with his face hidden behind his paws—to not instantly be put on high alert by her presence. Still, she seemed a little lost, so he took a half-step backwards, hugging the clumsily-wrapped present a little more tightly to his chest.
"Um... excuse me?" he called, and he got the horrible feeling the woman was smiling at him. "Are you okay?"
And then the smell of ozone filled the air.
Looks like Zeb's been tapped to become Kord! God of storms and lord of battle—a perfect fit for an Electric Pokémon, ne? :P (And yes, he's in his human form at the moment, which looks like this.)
A tempest whirled around Zeb, and at its heart crackled the lightning eyes of the old woman. "You are of the Pantheon," the thunder said, crushing Zeb with its weight. "You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be," a bolt of lightning sundered the sky, "brilliant. Within two years, you will be dead."
"You are the Stormlord," the storm said, and now Zeb was in the eye, and the lightning reached out for him. "The master of battles. Swordbreaker. Cloudbreaker. God of the brave and the strong."
Lightning struck, and Zeb seized it in iron-clad fist. Its power coruscated through him, barely contained as he stood once more before the old woman.
"We meet again, Kord," she said, static dancing across her veil as she closed the gap. "I've missed you."
I think you can assume he most definitely has a PokeKord form as well. Kord seems to be one of those infinitely-interpreted gods, so I've gone for a bit of everything; that's a lightning gauntlet of some kind on his right hand.
And yes, he is shirtless. Kord is muscly. Storm gods usually are.
hS
PS: YESSSSSSS. "Isn't Zeb the right age, one way or another?" was one of the questions in my mind when planning this. I am so glad he was.
After a moment of staring at Ananke—like rediscovering an old friend after a very long time—Kord embraced her, carefully. He felt like if he hugged too tightly, she might snap in half.
Not just her. Anyone, really. Lightning and battle were in his blood before, but this felt...
Wrong, a little voice in his head whispered.
But so, so right. He was Kord—and he was complete in that knowledge.
He took a half-step back from Ananke. "Will I be able to see you again?" he asked as lightning crackled in his hair. "Only, I really need to let my friends know..."
Her eyes gleamed, and she nodded. "You'll be seeing me again very soon, I'm sure," she said. "Until we meet again, child."
Kord cast a glance over his shoulder at her as he left; she stood there, watching.
He turned back to face the front and broke first into a grin, then a run, feeling more powerful than he'd ever been.
So hS, I want you to know that I am now currently halfway through TW+TD and I'm living for it—thank you for turning my attention to this series!
(And if anyone wants to run into Zeb Kord in the corridors, be my guest. :)
However, there is something about having newly come into divine power that makes it very difficult to find anything all that intimidating. And thus, Gaia was wandering the halls of HQ, trying to find his partner and, as he was thinking very intently about doing so, proving that just because you're a god, you're not necessarily immune to making the sort of mistakes you did while being not-a-god. You also don't spontaneously lose everything that made you yourself prior to your ascension, and thus, when he noticed sparks of lightning around a bend he might have passed by otherwise, Gaia's curiosity was piqued. A few steps over, look around, and - was that Zeb? Well, might as well say hello - no reason not to catch up with people he knew at least a little, especially with this sort of news to share.
"Hey!" he called out, starting down the hallway after Kord. Kord was running, and catching up to a god of lightning and battles isn't exactly easy, but, as one might expect, the Primordial Embodiment of Growth slowly rose to meet the challenge, aided immensely (which is to say, enabled to happen in a reasonable timeframe) by the other god slowing down. Had he heard him, or was he just turning a corner? "Hey, Zeb, wait up!" As he got closer, he noticed that there was something a bit odd about the Luxray - well, other than the fact that he was wearing his human form, anyways. He was pretty sure he wasn't normally that defined, and he was also pretty sure that he normally wore a shirt. And there was more to it than that - even barring the things that someone more observant might have noticed, there was a sense about him that was quite different from what had been there before.
Well, let's see how this goes! I figured while I'm also cleaning up the last details of Gaia's Ascension, I ought to help stir up a little roleplay, and since Tomash looks like he's on starting responses to the performance and because the coin came up heads, here I am! I do hope I'm not trodding on anyone's toes with this - including yours, Ix - but I figured, might as well take the invitation before it gets Awkward. ... I do hope the gods don't instantly recognize one another - that bit of revisionism could get tricky. Or it's just my dear little oblivious child being as oblivious as usual.
"It's... Kord, now, actually," he said, looking down at his hands before glancing back up at the familiar—not familiar?—face before him. "...Apecian, wasn't it? You look different."
"Oh, you too, huh?" he said, then shook his head. "And not Apecian - well, not anymore, anyways. I'm Gaia - and kinda wondering if I should be saying hello again or nice to meet ya."
Kord held out his arms for a bear hug—he was shirtless under his sleeveless jacket, and definitely more muscular than Zeb's usual leanness. "Can you believe it? I mean—I was a Pokémon, it makes absolutely no sense, but it just feels right, you know? How many of us do you think there are?"
After a moment, he let go, and said, "I mean, I thought I was - was period? Eh, I'll figure that out later - a Homunculus maybe an hour ago, and now I'm a god. So I'm not exactly doubtin' you! And..." He thought, then shook his head. "I have no clue. Ananke didn't say, or if she did, I don't remember. But with how I feel right now, and how I bet you feel, I don't think we're gonna have to wait long to find out." He paused for a moment, then added, "And... Kord, you said's your name now? Huh. I feel like I know the name, but not from where - what're you the god of?"
Kord stepped back, lightning crackling around him. "And battle! Which is, you know, perfect for me. He's—I'm—from... Dungeons and Dragons." He tilted his head. "I guess my spirit is, anyway! Oh, wow, are our partners going to be shocked when we tell them. I'll bet you anything Ave is gonna ask how much glitter I ate." He laughed.
"Storms and battles, huh? Can't exactly say I'm surprised. And..." He pictured the scene when Kord managed to catch up with the Aviator, and snickered. "Oh, man, I really hope I get to hear that," he said. "What sorta volume do you think she'll be using? Or - wait, is it still she? Thought I heard something about a regeneration happening somewhere." He shook his head. "I need to keep up on HQ news more - to save Mike from having to explain every time something comes up, at the least. ... Oh, oh yes, his face when I tell him." He grinned again. "I've been looking for him all over, but you know how this place is. I dunno if I'll get absolute silence or... I dunno, a lecture about responsibility or something, but it's gonna be great."
Kord's face was hopeful—eager. "I mean, obviously we'll tell them eventually, but..." He bounced back on his heels. "Maybe we should see if we can find any others!"
Gaia glanced up and down the hallways, wondering if those words would cause another god to spontaneously appear near them, but it didn't look like the IO was in the mood to be cooperative, as ever. "I mean, we should probably keep looking for 'em anyways, 'cause they will want to know, but you know how HQ is." He grinned. "The harder we try and find 'em, the easier it'll be to run into the rest of us, and I really want to see who else showed up!"
"Well then, let's think about our partners—I'm sure we'll be bound to run into somebody that way!" He picked a random direction and strode off, kilt swishing around his legs. "Come on!"
...Sooo... Should we find someone else to drag in, or ask if we can hop in elsewhere? :P
Meridia stepped around the corner after it, muttering unhappy things under her breath as she did so. She froze the moment she saw where it had ended up, her eyes slowly tracking up as she took in the figure before her. She felt something on the edge of her consciousness and frowned in Gaia's direction.
She puffed up her chest and assumed the most dramatic and formal stance she could while wearing wellingtons and a flower robe. "What are you, Sir?"
~~
Throwing a bit of divine drama into this party.
He bent down to pick it up, thereby missing Kord striding around a corner, and Meridia turning into the corridor he stood in. He examined it curiously, then blinked when he heard someone speaking. That... wasn't Kord's voice. He looked up and saw what appeared to be a small child in a stance that... actually was pretty dramatic. Maybe her parents were actors? "Um... a god, basically?" he said, idly tossing the ball in the air a few times. "It's more complicated than that, but that'll work for now. Who are you? And, uh, is this yours?"
((A quick once-over isn't providing somewhere else to easily pop in, so... pull somebody else in, possibly leading to or caused by Divine Power Hijinks? They have to start somewhere, and the only better place I can think of than somewhere with two gods around is somewhere with twelve. :P ))
Yavanna's busy, so I can't really drop him in here, but I felt the hug needed an art moment. :)
hS
I hope you have a lot of fun with Kord - Big Burly Stormlord with a Heart of Gold sounds like excellent writing fodder.
And hey, you're reading it! It's an odd story at times, but, well... there's nine volumes, and I bought them all. /After/ I'd already read them.
"It's all going to be okay."
hS
What... an amazing ride it was from start to finish. And now I'm more excited than ever to continue with the RP...
...I just need a few minutes to sit here and think for a bit.
One of the things that really grabs me is that it stoically resists absolute Goodies and Baddies*, in what's effectively a superhero comic in disguise. This is evident in the very first issue, which uses as its lead characters Laura - whose first significant line is "I want everything you have" - and Lucifer, the actual Devil. "Hey, you guessed my name."
But somehow, it's still a surprise every time someone reveals themselves to be better or worse than you've come to expect.
*Absolute Nice and Absolute Awful, now, that's a different matter. ;)
The biggest shocker for me - still no spoilers - was when I first saw that the title of the last arc was "Okay", quotes included. Yeah, 'cos that's not an ominous reference at all...!
(It had about the same impact as getting to the end of Heroes of Olympus: The Son of Neptune, with Ella the Harpy's prophecy - 'Wisdom's daughter walks alone/The mark of Athena burns through Rome' - and learning the title of the next book in that series... :D Either of these was a much bigger moment than finding out the title of Star Wars: Episode CXVII - Dark Days, Jedi Nights or whatever.)
hS
(hS, Zeb looks flipping fantastic! And I'm howling at shirtless!Kord!Zeb—somehow, I get the sense Jacques is going to enjoy this one, very much... :P)
So I coloured the thing. Couldn't leave our new god without some sweet face paint, after all. ;)
zippity zappity jacques cheeks go clappity
=]
Kittyauthor sighed, tapping her pencil, staring off into space. O'Ryan, on the other hand, was scribbling down numbers and letters, solving an equation he made himself, or, at the very least, trying to see if there was an answer. Sometimes, x was equal to everything, sometimes nothing. It was always fun to see where an equation would end.
Kitty, on the other hand, just wasn't really in the mood (which, for her, is strange) to solve the multiple equations she had given herself. She wanted to go wander the halls, get herself lost. She didn't quite know why. She had, for the longest time, felt lost. Lost, trying to fight the ghosts. It was her being a Mii in the past that made her look so young. She was only about three feet and two inches, less than half of O'Ryan's six and a half foot height. It made her look like she was ten or twelve. But yet, despite her past, she kept centering on that word.
Lost, lost within the labyrinth of the HQ, lost in Generic Surface, lost in–
"Kitty?"
Kitty jumped, jarring herself out of her own thoughts.
"Kitty, what's wrong? You're not acting like yourself," O'Ryan said, putting down his pencil. Due to his curse, said pencil had rolled off his table. "Dang it."
Kitty stopped tapping her pencil. "Nothing really. Still just thinking..." She sighed and got up from her seat. "I'm going to wander. Mind if I borrow your MP3 player?"
"Sure..." O'Ryan said. He wasn't sure why Kitty wanted to suddenly go for a walk. "Are you sure you're–"
"I'm fine, O'Ryan. Just... lost in my own thoughts today," Kitty replied. She grabbed the MP3 player and her headphones, then walked out of the RC.
She hummed as she went through the song list, finding something that was loud and distracting. She was so lost in finding that song that she didn't even notice the older woman until she bumped into her.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Kitty quickly said. "I was just–"
The woman looked down at her. She wore a veil over her face, reminding Kitty of the wedding veil that many people wore, but it was black. That was the color she wore. Black. All black. Kitty shivered. Her eyes... a dazzling blue, not at all the the sky, or O'Ryan's eyes, but not like a Sue's eye. It sort of reminded her of... What did it remind her of? She kept looking at the eyes, so blue, so blue...
Snap
Changes Kitty's age again
So, uh, yeah. Kitty is three and a half feet tall, although you can make her god form taller. Here's what she looks like And, well, you know which god I chose. Lucian. That's why I had her focus her on the color blue because Lucian certainly has a lot of blue in his outfit.
Don't mind me being a bit awkward. This is the first Emergency second PPC RP I've participated in, so I'm still a little new at this.
But yeah. I hope that intro was okay.
"You are of the Pantheon. You will be loved. You will be hated."
Kitty hung between light and dark: gold above her, black below her, around her a blue rapidly shading from clear sky to supernova-bright.
"You will be brilliant," the veiled woman's voice continued. "Within two years, you will be dead."
The gold receeded, and the black surrounded Kitty, but this was no darkness. The blue coalesced into countless stars, each one small enough to reach out and cradle in her hands - or to scatter like so many fireflies.
"You are the outcast of the Golden City," the veiled woman continued, her voice a thunder from the lost heavens. "The Liberator. Falsely accused. Falsely betrayed. Saviour and destroyer of worlds."
The blue swept over her again, and Kitty was back in the grey corridor. Her hair tumbled down black over padded shoulders, and her eyes glowed with the death of supergiants.
The veiled woman smiled. "We meet again, Lucian," she said, her own eyes reflecting actinic light. "I've missed you."
That was very nice. No objections from me. :)
I hope I've done Lucian justice; online sources are rather sparse, so I've had to make a few guesses based on general themes in fiction.
I have no idea what powers she has - that's all up to you.
And may I say, drawing a Mii dressed as a dark god was absolutely fantastic fun. ^_^
hS
A sort of vibrating feeling ran through Lucian's veins Ah, it must be the Power. I must be closer to the Upper layer than I thought
Lucian eventually let go of the older woman and noticed how much shorter she was in comparison to Lucian. Lucian tilted her head, trying to get a different angle. Hmm
"Well, I have to get myself acquainted with my new surroundings. I shall be off." And, without another word to the older woman, Lucian walked away.
How odd, the walls and the floor are the same shade of grey. What is this strange materiel?" She kneeled down onto the floor and ran her hand across it. *How odd. It's feels like my robe when it gets wet. She ran her fingertips across the floor. A memory bubbled up. Genetic surface. Then, she froze.
Wait, what am I doing? Why am I examining the floor. She sprung up. What am I doing?! What the heck? She conjured a lightning ball and, in the same motion, flung it as far away from her as possible. No no no no
She began to run, the robe slapping behind her. Gods, I have to get to my RC
Grey wall, grey wall, oh! There's that stain. Usually a left will lead her to- nipe, dead end. Opposite direction? Ah, yes, there it is. Now, to turn left and-
Wham!
Kitty felt herself falling. The impact of the floor came quicker than she thought it would.
Thump
She could barely hear O'Ryan over the ringing. Something about being Sued. Something about Medical. She sat up and felt herself begin to activate her healing powers onto herself, even though she clearly didn't such powers before, nor lightning balls, nor being at least 6 foot tall, nor-
"Kitty? Can you hear me?"
"Yeah. S-sorry. I couldn't... the lady..." Lucian sighed and rested her head in the one hand that wasn't healing her. "Y-yeah. I'm not Sued, I think. I think I still have a personality. O'Ryan, I honestly don't have much clue on what's going on. I'd rather be doing math problems."
"Well," O'Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, "I... kinda, sort of, um, broke all the pencils by accident?"
"What?" Lucian asked.
"Yeah, sorry about that." He tried to shrug but failed miserably, only managing to roll one shoulder. "Uh, are you sure you aren't Sued?"
"Yes, no, well..." She got up, using both hands on the wall to balance herself. Nope, still shorter than O'Ryan. "I guess not? They would know how not to panic when they realize that they were studying the floor, right?"
"I... guess? I mean, I freaked out instead of gushing over your robes or something," O'Ryan said.
"Maybe?" Lucian said.
"I suppose we'll have to wait or something. I heard that Medical had a lot of appointments today." O'Ryan sighed, forcing himself to relax. "So, do you know where HQ has more pencils?"
"Nope," said Lucian. "All I know is that I'm Lucian, but Kitty. To be honest, I don't even know how you could've broken all of our pencils, so I guess I'm a semi-useless, evil as her aspect, blue god."
"Don't call yourself that. At least you got a growth spurt."
"Yeah. I think I tripped on my boots once getting here," Lucian said.
"Now you know how it feels to be in my shoes," O'Ryan said, chuckling.
"No, you wear tennis shoes." Lucian brushed off her pants.
"Not what I meant. Hmm, do you think you can fix all these pencils?"
The "wow I'm tall" moment does not mean Lucian is taller than the veiled woman (not even gonna try and spell her name. I'll just create a mini lol). I tried to make this funny via broken pencils because of course O'Ryan's curse still is active and the whole "you walked in my shoes, taken literally" moment. I kept falling into SB and that was Bad.
I hope you enjoyed it. I was afraid of messing up other characters other than my own, so that's why Lucian just up and leaves.
She looks adorably grumpy, like "I had an entire empire, but you made me abandon it? Fool. You shall regret that."
Yes, you did Lucian justice. It describes him pretty well, at least to me. After all, he did overthrow several empires/tyrants (Destroyer of worlds and I guess could be savior as well? Maybe?) and Dark Lord's Homecoming spoilers
Quick query: Did her height change? If so, that's fine. If not, that's also fine. And if it's up to me, her height changes. It's a win-win-win scenario.
Her eyes are blue now. Gotta keep up with Lucian's blue theme.
Edit: Did a quick reread of the first four chapters. So, Lucian (and now Kitty, for right now) has access to The Power (yes, with caps) which basically, along with his/her Aspect (Evil, duh) allows him/her to:
Summon Portals (ringed with blue (assumed harmless) fire)
Have invisible defensive shields
Heal self/others (Although why Lucian would do that, other than for his/her own gain, is beyond me.)
Summon a lighting ball of sorts, which can be thrown down the hallway
Summon meteors and crack the ground, although this takes a lot out of Lucian
Lie a lot and have people believe said lies (Lucian is often called "Master of Lies" so this is based more off of assumption than anything else.)
Conceal self and others
That's all I found.
(The mix he/she pronouns are because Kitty is female and Lucian is male.)
(Multiple edits for clearer reading and adding "others" to concealment.)
I've deliberately kept the pictures sketchy, both for time reasons and to let people make their own interpretations.
I drew Lucian short, but you're absolutely free to change that. Treat my art as an artist's conception. :) (Kitty!Lucian is 'she', for the record; the god's gender has no effect. The canon has Inanna, the Queen of Heaven, who is exclusively 'he'.)
I like the 'lies and lightning' power set. If this were a Big Dramatic Event (which it ain't), it would be fun to set her against Kord the Storm Lord, and the Raven Queen, goddess of secrets.
hS
Of course, I am a bit busy at the moment, but I will get to it.
I used mixed pronouns because I want to say Lucian had those powers in canon.
I will respond with O'Ryan's response, but finishing summer homework is currently taking up all my time, unfortunately. I'll try when I can finally take a break from it. Can't believe school's about to start!
Click.
Click.
Click.
Tiled floors, measured paces. The tap of a cane's heel on the floor, measured little metronome of sound, two steps each, one off the beat, one on. The heels of his top boots made more of a tap on the tiles, but they were in perfect time. Always. It was that or... well, right now, or did not bear thinking about. Even alone.
Click.
Especially alone.
Click.
Agamemnon kept walking. Parade stiff, head high, every inch the confident and charming Regency dandy for all that he was but seventeen years. He was refined. His tailcoat was a rich red, a literal wine-dark rather than Homeric, that emphasized his slender waist and broadened his rather slight shoulders. His hard-wearing buff overcoat was pristine, though a discerning eye could spot areas where it had been diligently repaired and patched after encounters in the field. His boots gleamed, his cravat was elegantly knotted, the silver ferrule and handle of his cane shone like twin moons in the night sky of dark oak. He might have been in a tiled corridor walking away again, but in his mind's eye he could picture himself walking down the Strand, a man about town, a scholar, an officer, and a consummate gentleman.
Click.
And the more he imagined it, the less he saw of the brightly lit, airy surroundings of the DAS-SWEAR research facility.
Click.
And that was all to the good.
Click.
Click.
Poink wait what?
He looked down. The rabbit looked up. It was understandably aggrieved at having its reverie interrupted by a stout stick bouncing off its head. After affixing him with a glare that was entirely too intelligent for comfort, it hopped away down a darkened corridor, white bobtail flashing like a lighthouse in the gloom.
And against every single instinct in his rational mind, Agamemnon followed the rabbit. Because as peculiar a place as DAS-SWEAR was, and as preoccupied as he was, he was absolutely d*mned certain that there hadn't been a rabbit there when he'd glanced idly at the round a moment before.
He turned on his heel and walked down the dark corridor, pace brisk, stick in hand. It seemed to go on entirely too long, and get darker than DAS-SWEAR's environs had in years. He saw eyes, or the ghosts of eyes, flickering from open doorways as their owners zipped away to some safe hiding place. There were so many. But he followed the beacon white tail still, not knowing quite why, just that it was important.
More eyes came through the gloom, and Agamemnon was suddenly unsure how long he had been following the rabbit, or even how far. And now, he stopped, because the rabbit had. It had turned around to look at him, and there were so many more, and then Agamemnon looked up and up further into the imperious-radiant-blue eyes of-
"Stop," she said.
Agamemnon paused, and looked down briefly. The first three inches of his swordstick's blade were already leaving its scabbard, his knuckles white with the pressure of his grip, his stance low and purposeful like a knife-fighter. Every instinct was screaming at him to keep going, that this was an incursion of some manner or other, that the ancient-looking woman in the black gauze mask was dangerous, look at the eyes, nothing not born of glitter has eyes that blue, d*mn your fear and look into the eyes-
"Once again," she said.
Agamemnon sheathed his blade, muscle memory and years of training scattering like leaves. He looked around and saw all those hundreds and thousands of glinting eyes, soft does, solid bucks, mad hares, gathering like clouds before rain.
"We return," she said.
Agamemnon straightened. His swordstick swung briefly, an idle motion, before it fell from his shaking hand.
The woman smiled.
The rabbits leapt.
Click.
Agamemnon Wymbourne will, as if it wasn't entirely obvious, be taking on the godhood of El-Ahrairah. Because frankly it'd be awesome and also I want to make hS draw a bunny boy.
For that matter, let's discuss Agamemnon's appearance. He's quite short for his age by modern standards, at around five foot six and not doing much more in the way of growing. He still shaves, no massive hipster beard yet, and he has short sandy hair and kind, worried eyes. He dresses like a Regency gentleman, as described above - though he is slowly modernizing, as shown here by the absence of hat. This picture should give you an idea of the silhouette I'm going for, though you'll need to take away the hat and add a cravat and, hopefully, bunny ears. =]
I'm not familiar with this canon at all, so please tell me if I've got something egregiously wrong here. While it might just have been beginner's luck, the last time I started doing something without knowing what the hell I was on about, it turned out pretty well. =]
"You are of the Pantheon."
Agamemnon felt soft fur on all sides, enfolding him, absorbing him, but his eyes saw only the woman's, and his ears heard only her words.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant.
"Within two years, you will be dead."
Somewhere beyond the enshrouding fur, the sun rose. Agamemnon felt it, senses already attuned to magic now swinging like a lodestone to a new north. He longed to run under its heat, to dance on the long grass in its radiant light. He almost knew its name, felt it on the tip of his tongue.
"You are the forefather of millions," the old woman's voice rang in ears that seemed to catch every inkling of meaning. "The Prince with a Thousand Enemies. A thousand young. A thousand warrens. Cursed and blessed, chased and freed."
Agamemnon's vision cleared, and he found himself in a half-crouch, silver-topped cane still in his hand, cravat still neatly tied. He looked down, found the eyes of the very first rabbit gazing back at him; looked up, and found the old woman smiling.
"We meet again, El-ahrairah," she said, inclining her head in respect before opening her arms in welcome. "I've missed you."
I was hoping you'd find an excuse to enter; I knew you'd give me something interesting to work with. :)
I think your intro works nicely with the canon. Typically Ananke just sort of shows up (canonically she appeared in at least two people's gardens), but in the PPC version the Bunnyfest is entirely appropriate. I assume she was just fed up of waiting for him to get there. She's not required to do the "once again we return" line for everyone, though she certainly can; honestly most of her canon greetings consist of cryptic whinging about how difficult they were to find.
The half-crouch I've given El-ahrairah is his starting pose - he's perfectly capable of walking around normally. Or running or jumping, more likely. He has a Cute Animal Companion now. (And I couldn't resist the pocket-watch gag!) The outfit you suggested works really well for him; thanks for that!
I will note that the canonical gods, being teenage megastars, mostly have a bit of a lot of a sex thing going on. I will also note that El-ahrairah is explicitly the god of mating in his canon. And then I'll note the rating of the PPC for you. ^_~
I've no idea how godhood will interact with Strange & Norrell magic, if Agamemnon actually has such; I figure you can play with that yourself.
A note I missed earlier, and thank you for reminding me: the gods usually invoke their miracles by snapping their fingers - klik! It's not universal, but it's a nice touchstone.
If El-ahrairah has questions, I can RP Ananke some answers. If you have questions, go ahead and ask. :)
hS
El-Ahrairah turned his head this way and that, mostly for show. His children were so far away in this place - already, they were vanishing back to wherever Ananke had pulled them from - and he was so, so far from the light of Frith, source and proof of his power. His heart ached from both these pains. He had missed being in the mortal world, if indeed it was, but oh, he had not missed this.
And here was Ananke, her arms spread wide. The air in this place was conditioned - he could feel it thrumming with artificial movement, hear the whirring faraway fans and devices that kept it moving and cool - and yet there was an inexplicable chill about this new realm. It had been so, so long. He was out of practice. His body was different, too, the feet feeling too small but the legs vast and densely muscled. His forepaw was a hand, and he knew it, and knew what it did. His hand held a weapon, and he knew it, and he knew what it did. And yet, he did not act upon it. There was a strangeness about this. His eyes were placed wrong, his blind spots moved from the centre to the sides, but that was simply how these bodies worked. And he knew it. Why? How? What else did he just know, because of how he had returned?
His feet were covered, yes, but the floor beneath him - Generic Surface under tiled linoleum for ease of cleaning in a medical science environment what in d*mnation did any of that mean - still vibrated, and he could sense those vibrations through his boots and through his body and into his mind. The familiar wheeling fireworks of cleverness and ideas and trickery overthrew him for a moment but he remembered that he was the future Earl Wymbourne and there were Expectations of Propriety to be met. And there were. Weren't there?
"My lady Ananke," he said, and he bowed low without knowing entirely why. "Long have we been parted. Too long."
"Such a pleasure it is to meet a child with manners," Ananke replied.
El-Ahrairah straightened, and met her eyes. They sparkled with a smile, so he thought. And smiles were different to bared teeth. "As they say, manners maketh man. I must take my leave, however. This form, this world, this place... I must reacquaint myself with them all. And thus, I bid you good day."
Before Ananke could respond, the god was gone.
And he was running
The First Rabbit easily kept up with him despite the speed at which he ran and the terrain against which he was arrayed. And arrayed against it he was. Every door and box and inventively-foul-mouthed vending machine could harbour danger to him and to his children, and though they numbered beyond counting and were protected by his gifts each loss hurt him still. He recalled well kind old Frith's fateful words. "All the world shall be your enemy." He didn't quite realize he'd said it aloud, and in English, until after the fact. The throats of these forms were incredible! The noises they could make! He laughed as he ran, and ran faster from the joy of it, and scooped up the First Rabbit with his free hand and tucked him under his arm and snapped his fingers and
THOOM
El-Ahrairah rocketed down the blurring network of corridors, bouncing freely from the walls and doors and ceilings and guardrails without the slightest semblance of a care in the world. He wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't looking for anything. He was just running, his divine power manifesting as sheer joyous speed, beneath the grey Generic Surface sky lost somewhere beneath a black untouchable one whose stars still searched for Lord Frith. It felt incredible, it felt free, it was power beyond imagination and beyond reproach, it was-
He stopped dead.
Then he took off in the opposite direction, mumbling something incomprehensible about Lanchester's squares.
It had been a late luncheon, and Algernon, 7th Earl Wymbourne, was - per his wont - asleep in his chair. He was the sort of man who roused from his slumber precisely when he meant to, and prior to that time could not be woken by anything short of a bomb going off. This wasn't as much of a problem as it might appear at first glance; he was a quiet sleeper, much to the delight of his partner, currently stripping down a complicated-looking weapon whose innards glowed with baleful green plasma.
Said plasma promptly discharged itself through the opposite wall when the door slammed open.
Lola spun around in her chair, not least because HQ's doors didn't slam like that. Not unless it was dramatically appropriate, anyway. The bunny boy in the doorway certainly looked appropriately dramatic, and the rabbit under his arm looked faintly traumatized, but there was something oddly familiar about him that she couldn't quite place. The mode of dress? No, White Rabbit expies looked like that all the time... though they didn't normally carry an actual rabbit with them.
"Listen, cob," she said, reaching for her sidearm with the arm her chair obscured, "I don't know who you think you are, but in polite society we knock-"
At this dramatically appropriate point, Algie woke up. "Hm. Hmwha? Ah. I find it most pleasing that you consider yourself an authority on society and politeness, Commander. Perhaps we have been rubbing off on each other." He got up from his chair, and yawned, and stretched.
And then he turned around.
"My boy... my son..."
His voice was whisper-quiet and desperate.
"Whatever have they done to you..."
"I think," said El-Ahrairah, "we may have something of a problem."
I think we may have something of a problem
"I have nought but memory of this place," El-Ahrairah said. "My memories. And yet, they are distant. As though waking from a dream." He turned over a page, twitching a long, furred ear at the rustle of old parchment. "This is my truth, I think. Or a possible one."
"Your truth." Algie replied. "Indeed."
"Uh, why are we letting the hot bunny guy read my books of magic? Not that I mind, I like a nerd, but-"
"Lilianna," growled Lola as she hefted a plasma rifle, "unless you're telling us what you did or how to fix it, you're going to keep your mouth shut."
"Jeez, sor-ree, captain butch."
"You've used that one already."
"Yeah? Guess you're a butch with an i. Oooooh! One for Mama Lily's burn book! Imma write that down!" She scrabbled around for a journal and opened it to a half-full page. "Oh. It's already in here, huh. That means it's such a sick burn that I forgot I'd written it! Man I'm smart!"
El-Ahrairah threw the book he was reading over his shoulder onto the discarded pile behind him, a small mountain of magical volumes bound in a luridly iridescent pink. "By the sun, this is hopeless. Not a speck of useful information to be found. And since she lacks the ability or equipment to concoct a potion, we might have to consider this was the work of another."
Lola sighed and sat down next to him. "Look, Mem, we have to consider motive here."
"I have asked that you refer to me by my true name, Commander." The god's voice was suddenly stiff and cold, his eyes cast down.
'Sorry. El-Ahrairah. We have to think about why this happened. What's more likely, cob? This is something to do with your Suvian heritage manifesting itself inside you because of something your mum did? Or that you really are a rabbit god from a parallel universe who just happened to awaken into immortal powers after leaving a place with one of the highest concentrations of glitter in HQ? Occam's razor, kid. Apply it at your leisure."
"Ananke, she gave her name as. I made to... to cut off her head, I think."
"Pompous of her," Algie scoffed. "Ananke is the Greek personification of inevitability, of compulsion. Fate, if you like. We shall shew that to be no more than a nonsense, oh yes we will. Just as soon as we find the proper spell from this library.,"
"And what then? What do you think will happen if you use it?"
"Why, my son shall return to me," Algie said.
"And yet,"; said the god, "I remain right here."
Algie looked up, a stammering apology already at his lips, but it was too late. The god was gone.
He left the room shortly after, Lola by his side. They walked in silence until it broke. Or something did.
"I lost my wife, Lola," Algie said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "To this. I cannot lose him too. I can't bear it, I, I just can't..."
Lola put her arm around him, grabbed a poster from the wall for future use as a source of rollups, and moved on with him.
Of course, when the leaves started falling off the paper, she knew it was time to act.
OOC Notes: This is set in DAS-SWEAR's facility for Suvian study, specifically in Lilianna Wymbourne's cell. It's cropped up before in the short Board piece Search For A Lost Childhood (tw: implied ca), but Algie was married to a Suvian and Agamemnon is their kid. She's ensconced in a research facility because Algie couldn't bring himself to kill her, and both of the men she created as subservient comic relief imbeciles to make her look good still visit her to monitor her recovery. Not that she notices much. Algie and Lola are DIA operatives, and so the teenage boy with glitter heritage suddenly manifesting bunny ears and a CAF and powers and calling himself a god? That says Suvian to them. And neither of them wants to think about incursions, so they're basically looking through Lilianna's Sue spellbooks to try and figure out what did this and why. Even though they know the answer.
They just really don't want to think about what that answer means.
I hope this isn't too dark for the RP at large, and I will try to get some more happy fun stuff in during a future post. =]
Your depiction of someone... how to say, learning about powers they already knew? Is perfect.
hS
Becoming a god is a perfectly good reason to hop to it and go at it like, well, a rabbit, but no, you had to be all concerned about decency. It's such a waste of bunny innuendo opportunities, like jokes about Agamemnon getting some tail.
(( - Tomash ))
Not that I care what debauchery the children partake in, so long as they restrain themselves to-
But I have much to do, and no inclination to speak of Pantheon matters to mortals. You will learn who they are soon enough.
[Sweeps out]
I wanna snuggle him and feed him a carrot and his ears look so soft I just want to rub them aaaaaaa-
Ahem.
So, couple of things. First, thank you for the art and the kind words, I really appreciate them both. Second, I'm not sure what to do now? Should I have El-Ahrairah interact more with Ananke? Should I have him hop off to his dad and ask what happened? Should I make him have an existential crisis about his Suvian heritage manifesting and turning him into a cute lil bunny boi OC with a Cute Animal Friend? What's the correct path here? Or rather, what's the one best suited to canon-friendly interactions with Ananke?
(also has anyone in canon noticed that the reason ananke is spelled like that is because classical greek and latin don't have soft c sounds and thus nobody would notice if they spelled it that way that it's really, really similar to anansi?)
Finally: English magic is based upon asking nicely and diplomatically invoking the bonds of fealty and obeisance between the spirits of the world and the Raven King. This doesn't really change based on who is doing the asking. What does change is the fact that as a god, even a god of small animals, El-Ahrairah might have the ability to form and enforce his own new bonds and thus make new spells possible. Even if they only apply to rabbits. it's a really interesting thought. I'll have to think about what to do with that...
But yeah, thank you so much for letting me take part in this. I look forward to putting together an in-character response in a bit. =]
I'm assuming all this is taking place over at least a few hours, if not days, so Ananke has time to talk. She's not exactly chatty, but she'll talk to the gods, and explain what's going on.
Her canon personality (at least as relevant to this) is: every ninety years, twelve gods are incarnated as young people... by Ananke. She's been doing this for six thousand years. She's seen everything the children can throw at her, and is generally unconcerned by most of it. Her only big rule is 'don't use your powers on mortals' (except the performing, obviously). For our purposes she'll actually be a bit more lax about that (because 'your characters are gods, but don't do anything with it' is really boring).
She talks like... oh, a Victorian nanny, pretty much.
But El-Ahrairah can also ignore her and run off! It's never really explained how much the gods have to be told and how much they Just Know, so you can assume he's at least gotten the preamble ("Every ninety years" etc) as an infodump. He knows who he is; he can feel what he can do; if he wants to leave, she's not gonna stop him.
"Anansi"... er, y'know, that's actually a really interesting point. Hmm. >_>
hS
Could I use a god I made up or does the god have to be in an established canon already?
Also, would it be appropriate if I showed Kitty's partner, O'Ryan, being a little scared at Kitty not being herself (not being "Kitty" anymore, I mean. But still having her personality, like you established.)?
If you've got stories (/games/art/...) online featuring your god, then sure, go for it! If they're just an idea in your head, I'd say not, because then there's no chance for anyone else to get the reference.
For the second question: absolutely! It's kind of freaky when someone is magically transformed and starts referring to themselves as a divinity. ;)
hS
I don't have any art of my god, nor anything published online, unfortunately. That's okay. I'll just use Lucian from Lucian: Dark God's Homecoming, if that's okay with you.
I'll try to get a post up later today or tomorrow.
I'm seeing this image and this description; I think I can put together an ascension from that. :) Look forward to seeing the intro.
hS
At first glance, the posted pasted to the Cafeteria's door wasn't particularly unusual. Of course, officially Building Maintenance came down with a tonne of bricks on anyone affixing things on their fixtures, but that had never stopped anyone before. This one showed a tree in autumn, which (other than starting a minor argument over whether it should actually be Fall, or perhaps Fading) seemed pretty uncontroversial. Just an ordinary picture of a tree, done in orange and red paint.
Then the first leaf fell.
PPC agents started to gather around the poster. They poked the painted leaves, jumped back when another one somehow peeled away and drifted away - and then, PPCers being who they are, went right back to poking. It took quite a while before someone noticed the words, written quite small on the bottom of the poster, tangled in the roots:
Yavanna. First performance. Small Auditorium. When the last leaf falls.
Trying out a micro-RP type thing. Do what you like with it; in a day or two I'll write Yavanna's entrance to the Auditorium, and a day or two after that, his performance. He's not present right now, but if there's any takeup he'll probably interact after he appears. :)
And if any other gods incarnate before the concert is over, they're welcome to share the stage.
hS
... but there were still a respectable number of seats filled, by those who had seen the poster, or heard about it on HQ's highly efficient grapevine. About half of those present didn't even know what a Yavanna was (much to the disgust of the other half, who believed Tolkien trivia was the only knowledge worth having). None of them knew what to expect.
A door opened onto the Auditorium floor, and a hundred or so heads craned to see. A figure stepped out, and it was...
... a boy, maybe in his early teens, wearing a green coat far too long for him. On his head sat a crown of sorts, of branching, unpolished wood, and - even for those close enough to see the emerald glow in his eyes, or to feel the harvest-warm aura that seemed to surround him - he looked faintly ridiculous.
You may heckle if you choose. :) The performance will be up tomorrow.
hS
She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she came to this performance, but the appearance of the person on the stage was quite weird. Maybe this was a badly-advertised comedy routine, or a best effort at some sort of religious thing (the chatter about gods in the crowd made it seem likely)
No matter what the context was, she figured this would probably be an amusing trainwreck (as opposed to the ones that made you reach for the Bleeprin). So, she pulled out something smartphone-like and took a photo. She'd need something to go with the "You won't believe what happened yesterday!" story she had a front-row seat for (well, not literally, she was off to one side and near the middle, but still).
The boy stood for a full half-minute, letting the camera flashes and the occasional shout ("You're not Yavanna; you're nothing but a sis- er, brother!") roll over him. Then he raised his head, and something in his eyes made the crowd fall silent.
"One," he said into the hush. "Two. One-two-three-four."
1.
No-one could name the language he sang. It had the grace of Quenya, the intensity of Klingon, the power of the Wizards' Speech, but it was none of them. Perhaps it was the native language of the forests, a song of leaves and loam, of roots and rivers, of ancient boughs and azure skies.
2.
The light was like the dappled forest floor, spreading away through uncounted years. The congregation breathed as one, each inhalation a day apart. They felt their roots weave together, an unmatched strength that bore them up and sent them soaring skywards on towering trunks.
3.
And within each heart beat an aching longing, the memory of forests long gone, the foretelling of trees yet unplanted. Each felt in themselves an acorn waiting to sprout, and a mossy stump long-since fallen; and at the centre of all rose the Queen of Trees, the first mother of them all, the willing source of every breath and beat; and his light was a gift to them all.
4.
The song ended.
The audience let out a collective sigh, the Auditorium feeling close and artificial. And the boy on the stage held out his hands to them.
"I am Yavanna of the Pantheon," he said, his voice ringing clear, "and this is the Recurrence.
"Once again...
"...we return."
So I'm trying to do justice to something originally created for a visual medium, where the gods' performances tend to look like this:
Or this:
(Amaterasu, Morrigan, and Baphomet, all courtesy the first three issues of WikDiv)
So although it probably comes over as kind of corny in writing, you can assume that anyone* who witnesses it would be blown away.
*All right... nearly everyone.
Timefix: It seems like Ananke has incarnated all the gods on a single day, so let's say this is two days later (August 3rd).
hS
Dax was enraptured through the performance, almost trancelike as he listened to the music. When the song ended, he nearly cried.
Lorson watched the whole thing with an expression of disgust on his face. Whatever spell had fallen over the crowd, he definitely wasn't impressed. "The shpx you on about?" he yelled, and several people nearby turned to him in disbelief. "You ain't some Vala from Middle-earth, you're just a kid with sticks in his hair!"
"When did you read the—? Lorson, you can't just say that," Dax said, grabbing his hands; Lorson threw him off. "Did you even hear that performance? It was... otherworldly."
"YAVANNA!" an agent elsewhere in the crowd yelled, and others echoed the sentiment. "YAVAN-NA, YAVAN-NA, YAVAN-NA!"
Fuvgshpxzbgureshpxvat bad bad get away—
Lorson ducked through the cheering crowd, suddenly very glad Dax had insisted on dragging him along.
hS
"YA-VAN-NA! YA-VAN-NA! YA-VAN-NA!"
"Honestly, Commander, this is hardly dignified."
"Shut up and keep looking mob happy. And pump your arm harder. This is deep cover, remember? It's all artifice."
The Commander's voice crackled in his ear over the sound of the crowd and the singer, which, thankfully for Algie, had been nil. A pair of egregiously large noise-cancelling headphones and a set of earplugs with a speaker built in had muffled the child's din completely. It complemented the dark glasses he wore, which masked his gaze as he scanned the crowd of agents. And they were all agents, of a gallimaufry of colour and shape, and Algie knew in that moment that his cause was just and righteous. These were brother and sister and sibling officers, and if his brother had taught him anything of the sea, it was that a threat to one was a threat to all.
His eyes were a watery pale blue, and the lighting of the venue didn't help, but his sight was still keen and he prided himself on his ability to spot details. And there was one that stood out. A cybernetically enhanced gentleman, moving through the crowd towards the doors.
"Got one," he mumbled into his throat mic. "Headed for the main doors at pace. Shoulder length hair, metal arm."
"I see him," the Commander said after a moment. "Good work. Moving to intercept. Stage two is green, I repeat, stage two is green."
"Confirmed. Going in, Commander."
Algie took off after the man with the metal arm, walking briskly to try and keep up with his loping strides. Since Algie was about five foot five and had once been compared unfavourably to a bowling ball, this was far easier said than done. Indeed, as the man left the Auditorium, Algie broke into a run, skipping the bottom few stairs and barreling through the doors to the total indifference of the frenzied crowd. He caught further sight of the man and pelted off after him, tearing off his headphones as he did so.
"I say, good sir? Good sir? Might I possibly prevail upon you for a brief moment of your time?"
His flash patch and identity card flicked into his hands, just as Lola rounded the corner in front of the man at a... slow... walk.
Well that just made a chap feel incompetent.
Lorson stopped when the annoyingly persistent man ran up behind him, and the back of his neck prickled a moment before the woman rounded the corner.
He'd take out the man first; the man had enough trouble keeping up with his normal pace. Not a fighter, but still possibly a threat.
Lorson shifted his weight slightly, but didn't go for his weapons... yet. "If this is about the shpxing concert, I. Don't. Care."
Algie spotted how the man's hands hovered as if forced away from whatever weaponry he was carrying by propriety alone. He also knew that if he had, Lola had as well, and in all likelihood quite substantially sooner. The softly-softly approach, then. He kept his flash patch and ID visible.
"This is an Internal Affairs investigation, albeit far from an official one. My name is Wymbourne, and my esteemed partner is Field Commander McCandless. We're looking into the possibility of a mass Suefluence incident, one offshoot of which was the aforementioned concert. The child on stage was one Tanfin Illian, of the Nursery, and while technically having Sindarin heritage - or Noldorin, or something along those lines - he is no more the Middle-Earth nature goddess Yavanna than he is a small bowl of chicken soup. You understand our concerns, I trust."
Algie kept a serious expression on his face throughout. Devolving this into a firefight would set their investigation back immensely, to the point where they might not be able to save his son from the madness.
Also be shot to bits by an unknown agent.
Which was worse.
Obviously.
Indeed.
"Yeah, no fuvg," he said. "Somebody's either swallowed too much glitter or there's a bigger problem going on here. Y'all see the concert? Weird mass... mind control, or something. They were all convinced the kid was the real deal."
"At least one other person has been affected that we know of, and probably more. We have yet to establish exactly how many people have been afflicted with these... delusions of divinity."
Algie's back was straight and the grip upon his identity card tightened.
"Cob, you're looking stressed. Want me to take over?" The Commander's voice crackled in his earpiece, subvocalized and out of earshot of the metal-armed man.
"The agreed-upon code, Commander, if you would." Algie had been taught to subvocalize into a throat mic by Lola, though his accent and general stiffness lent his words something of a gravelly, gargling undertone not normally present in his voice.
"Oxford lime."
"Sydney tomato." It was an adaptation of the Undersiders' code for situations in which they found themselves struggling. The speaker said the name of a city from the listener's country of origin and then a coloured object in a traffic light colour scheme to ask how the listener was coping and say how the speaker was in turn.
"On it." Lola cleared her throat. "What my partner's trying to say is that we're looking to cover more ground. We want to find more of the alleged gods and monitor their movements, but there's only two of us working this beat. We went to the concert to see if there was someone who wasn't swayed by the musical stylings of a teenage elf in a stupid hat. We need people like you... and you're the only one we've found so far. We need your help."
"Normally I'd tell you to go shpx yourselves, but this whole thing reeks of Sue and iffn it keeps spreading, whole of HQ could be affected. Last thing I want is a bunch of music-worshipping zombies coming after me 'cause I ain't gonna fall over myself praising a self-styled god." He shifted his weight, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Fine, I'll help you. Who's the other 'god' y'all got so far?"
"Which, yeah, doesn't sound dangerous. Bunny gods don't. But how many times have you seen a cutesy-poo target who looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly burying a katana in some poor shpxer's chest cavity right up to the hilt? I'm not taking any chances."
Lola walked closer, confident, assured, smiling politely and flashing her DIA patch and ID. "I'm Lola. That's my partner Algie. Got a name you're okay with us knowing?"
"Lorson. Rho. Crossovers, but I should've been stuck in ESAS." He scowled slightly. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish I had my partner for this one. Good a fighter as you'd ever seen, but he's back in there—" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "—cheering for his new idol."
Lola wore an easy smile, and with a little effort she made it reach her eyes. "Sucks that you're flying solo in this - only reason we're not right alongside your partner in there is that we broke out enough noise-cancelling tech that we technically count as part of the A/V Division. But yeah. One's better than none, and we'll get your partner clear of this."
She gave him a quick once over, leaning back slightly as she did so. Despite her genemods giving her what her fellow Long War vets had termed "Mark 2 Jumpy Legs", she topped out at five foot nothing. Meanwhile, Lorson was well over six feet tall. It was a wonder she didn't get whiplash.
"You bearing up okay, Algie?"
"Canberra carrot."
"Cambridge cabbage.
"So. Shoulda been in ESAS, huh? Guessing you're not hurting for hardware then." She had another look. "Let me guess: DH-17?"
"The shpx you on about? DTB-27," he said, tapping the blaster on his hip. "And the swords're full cortosis weave. Spent my time hunting Sith and Jedi and anyone who made enemies of rich enough people. A couple of obnoxious pop stars shouldn't be an issue."
... an appearance by the teenage elf in the stupid hat himself? He's not eavesdropping or anything, but it wouldn't be OOC for him to be overwhelmed by the attention and try to sneak out of the Auditorium.
hS
I don't think that would be a good idea. If it was just Lola here, that'd be one thing, but Algie is barely holding it together, and I can genuinely see him drawing a weapon on Yavanna here. Which would be Extremely Very Not Good for him, partly because it would seriously impact his mental health to pull a gun on a child at all, but mostly because it would have very serious repercussions that could lead to someone getting hurt. Algie's really not thinking straight right now, and he's relying on his own professionalism to pull him through. He's also internalized the golden rules of firearm safety, amongst which is, well...
If you draw a firearm, you are expressing your intent to use it. Never point it at anything you're not okay with shooting to destroy... or kill.
And that is too dark for this RP. Way, way too dark. I don't feel comfortable going there.
It's very hard for me to describe what I'm thinking of... it's presented in-universe as a religion that could conceivably be real, plus-or-minus some specific supernatural aspects of the otherwise real-world adjacent canon. (If it helps, I'm specifically pondering on Khura'in and Khura'inism of Ace Attorney: Spirit of Justice.)
The Holy Mother would seem to be acceptable; I'd class her under 'deified mythological figure'. The definition of 'god' gets a bit tricky when you leave Europe; a lot of figures who'd be gods if they were Greek myths are described as people in other parts of the world. (Heck, even Ireland does this!) 'Spiritual leader who has ascended to deific status', a la Buddha, would also seem to fit as a description. They're not gods per se, but... they're close enough.
Also: the gods don't have to be confirmed real in the canon. Don't know if that's any help.
hS
I was thinking of Lady Kee'ra, who's in the same boat as The Holy Mother.
I can definitely work with that.
(The canon WikDiv gods were designed to resemble pop stars as well as evoking their deities - early examples include Lucifer as Bowie, Minerva as a Beatle, and Woden as Daft Punk. Not being a professional comic book artist, I will not even be attempting that. Straight deity-writ-PPC-fashion all the way. ^_~)
hS
I might just have to get Henry involved, if I can figure out which god might fit him.
Quick question: I'm guessing you meant Aslan no, Apollo yes? Aslan being a primary world god and Apollo not?
~Neshomeh
Aslan is a fictional god who is identified with a primary world gGod - much like Tolkien's Iluvatar. In the books, he's a lion with a thing for self-sacrifice; it's only the subtext that says he's God.
Apollo, meanwhile - let's take the Percy Jackson version - is the primary world Greek god. He's presented in a modern framing, but... he's Apollo. Put another way: an incarnation of Greek!Apollo could be identical to one of PJ!Apollo and no-one would bat an eyelid. Aslan and capital-God would be incarnated quite differently (because, y'know... lion).
It's a pretty arbitrary distinction, but boils down to 'I wanna do the fun ones'. ;) And don't want to wind up repeating canon WikDiv incarnations.
I confess that Henry was one of the things in my head that made this viable. Hope you find someone fun for him!
hS
PS: I should really have expanded on 'god' a little... they don't exactly have to be gods, just very godlike. WikDiv features Lucifer, who in most theologies isn't a god (dualism being rather out of style). I would say they should be on the highest level for their particular setting. Valar, not Maiar; the Devil, not demons.
I'm accommodating of weird edge-cases. If someone wants to pull in the Ones as Star Wars deities-of-a-sort, I'm not going to quibble. I just want to avoid 'GLaDOS is like a god in Portal...!'
EDIT: To answer the question you should have been asking... the Lone Power and Peach One's Champion are both fictional gods, not primary world ones. The One would be a more difficult case, but... also isn't really a character. 'Interesting' is more important than 'god'. :)
hS
In settings with multiple 'levels', so to speak, do they have to be at the highest level period, or just the highest level in the context they operate in? E.G., in Magic: The Gathering (putting aside stuff like Helios obviously being Zeus), would Helios and Avacyn and other such figures qualify, or would you have to go for entities like Emrakul?
Would someone who effectively just borrows a name for Aesthetic or Reference Reasons without exactly trying to be a representation of the actual figure be on the table? E.G., I'm guessing Digimon Frontier's Lucemon would probably be off the table, but what about, oh, Digimon Tamers' Beelzemon, or an alternate incarnation with behavior patterns that are similarly dissimilar to what an actual entity based on Beelzebub would be like (or, well, I'm guessing Tamers' isn't exactly an accurate representation) but playing more into the whole 'one of the great Digimon Demon Lords' angle?
1/ It's hard to give a firm description, but I would say any god/'god' who operates broadly independently, or with a pantheon at their own 'level', would be fine. From what I can see, Avacyn is the 'chief god' of her religion, for all she was created by someone else and is limited to a single world. She would count, even if she occasionally has to refer things up or follow instructions from above.
As a counterexample, someone like Uriel from Dresden Files would not count, because he (by his own admission) does only the Almighty's will. (Also he's a Real World archangel, but the point stands.)
2/ This should also be fine. There's a 'use common sense' limit here, but generally, it's actual depictions of Real World gods I'm avoiding, not anything that looks like them if you ignore context.
(Would H.P. Lovecraft's Dagon be allowed, since he's ostensibly the actual Canaanite god, but actually bears no resemblance to it? Um... dunno! Definite borderline case.)
hS
It makes sense, and admittedly, I was figuring this would be the case, but I thought I might as well ask just to be safe. And, since a few ideas have occurred - repeats are probably not the best, but what about gods who are similar on certain surface levels, but have concepts that are different? E.G., Yavanna is a Deity of the Earth - would a Deity of Growth, whose domain encompasses anything that conceivably defined as 'growing', this being anything from literally becoming bigger to character development, be viable?
The Canon has at least three or four underworld gods, and the 1920s pantheon literally had two sun gods ("Nice sunset... was that one of yours or one of his?").
hS
For "primary world god" I had read "primary god of their world." Like, no capital-G Gods (e.g., Eru, the One).
You basically mean no god from a Real World pantheon, though? Or at least not the super well-known ones?
~Neshomeh had been vaguely considering maybe Hecate, but probably not either way.
Sorry, didn't even think about alternate meanings... I've gone back and changed it to Real World.
Hekate is definitely a Real World god, I'm afraid, unless you know another god who just happens to share the name. (It could happen!)
As a general reference/inspiration for people, these are the canons that spring to mind when I think about gods:
-Middle-earth -Discworld -Queen's Thief (Megan Whalen Turner) -Young Wizards -Narnia -Various Eddings series, notable Belgariad/Malloreon, Elenium/Tamuli, Redemption of Althalus, Dreamers -Star Wars (as discussed earlier) -Doctor Who (the Guardians count, for example) -Warhammer 40K -Dresden Files (HI, MAB! ... does Mab count? I mean, she has at least one god who answers to her, so...) -Earthsea -Star Trek (notably the Klingon pantheon) -The Good Place (y'know... arguably)
I could go on, but I'd have to delve deeper into my own head, and who does that? The point is just to give people an idea of the sorts of places they could look. (And an idea of which ones I have reference materials to hand for, but please don't let that stop you!)
hS
I've got two ideas I kind of like. One the one hand, Akatosh, because dragons are cool, he's cool, it would be cool.
On the other hand... the Ellimist definitely counts, right?
~Neshomeh
Either way it looks like you're getting time-powers, so it comes down to 'wings or robes'. :)
... why was the Ellimist a Force Ghost in the TV show? Huh. '90s TV is weird.
hS
