techalaniani. [cw: dr...ugs...]

[fursuit]

[ It’s about two weeks after the chaos that’s hit Highstorm and Springstar both. The dust has had time to settle and people have started to pick themselves back up. And in that busy time, the Shard-Bearers of Kenos are touched by someone new. It’s a mind that gives the impression of vastness in the way that other gods and similarly supernatural creatures have. There’s dark, fragrant smoke of copal, and the humid heat of a rainforest. It probably feels faintly familiar to some, since there’s just a hint of that warmth that feels similar to a certain sun god(dess)…

But as it focuses, that warmth seems to be coming from a campfire, perhaps oddly. The logs around it offer you a “seat”, whether proverbial or not, and it’s only if you take one that the speak themselves will come into more focus. But the introduction that comes with it is much cooler (in both senses of the word) than the bubbly Quetzalcoatl. ]

Yo.

[ …Is that how the newest god is greeting the masses? Yep. Apparently so. ]

I talked to enough people when Kenos was jerking me around [ no, that was me, the player, ] that Communion is just more efficient. So, for those I’ve met and for those I haven’t, consider this a more formal greeting. You’ve removed my brother Quetzalcoatl and allowed me to descend in his stead.

[ And even though he’s identified Quetzalcoatl as his brother… The smirk in that statement is unmistakable. He’s pleased that Quetzalcoatl is dead. For those that know the mythology of the Aztec pantheon even faintly, this wouldn’t be a surprise at all, since Quetzalcoatl only has one enemy that would be glad to see the feathered serpent fall. ]

Name’s Tezcatlipoca. Tloque nahuaque. [ The Nahuatl is spoken with a sense of power that’s subtle, but still raw, even though there’s no one that would understand it. Still, it conveys the idea well enough—this is no minor god of that pantheon. ] If you know me, great, and if you don’t, well. Met your god Set one of the times I was stoppin’ by, and our whole deal is similar enough. I am conflict, so in the spirit of fairness, I’ve thrown my lot in with Zenith. Can’t have two gods that oversee war and conflict on the same side, yeah?

[ There’s humor in his tone that makes it seem like it’s a joke, but… No. It’s not. That’s a pretty significant part of his rationale for picking Zenith. Thanks Set!/Don’t worry about. ]

Anyways. All that formal shit aside, easy one to follow it all up. Ain’t often that I got a human body to enjoy getting fucked up. So, if you’ve got a preference for weed, hit me up. Workin’ on somethin’ artisanal there, but I wanna know the poisons of preference for the locals. Let me know what you get fucked up on, and I might even make it worth your while.

[ …So. You know. That’s one way to introduce yourself. ]

Comments

[a_noble_flame]

[On this day the first communion that pings off of Alice has to be this one. Naturally.]

... Fucked up?

[Slang?]

[semicharmed]

[ Matt is experiencing ... a lot of feelings, which he does his best to submerge through the application of meditative blankness. This has yet to work on any deities he's tried it with, but to hope is human. A certain quiet fills his mind, like that of a placid lake. This lake just happens to have very clear water. Below the surface, murmuring and bubbling, there's--

Why does she deserve that from you? A kiss like sunshine crowning his brow. Just breathe, okay, I'll do it with you-- Sobs in the dark. Liem's body, walking around tenanted by shadowy fingers. The heat and crush of a kiss.

Who knows how much of that comes through, despite Matt's efforts. The latter is loudest, at least. And his mental "voice," when it finally surfaces, is (genuinely) pleased to encounter Tezcatlipoca. ]

Hey. I was wondering if I'd run into you again.

[baltimores]

Oh. Hey.

[ It's easy enough to take a seat at the campfire of a Zenite, so that's what Amos does, a darkened presence apparently thoroughly unbothered by... everything. By Tezcatlipoca being pleased at Sunny's permanent death, by his reappearance when it's been a while since he's spoken to the guy (didn't know he was going to be back, really), even by the talk of Set. This is a chill space, after all; safe and shrouded in the cool dark of Zenith, and so he can make himself right at home.

And maybe even get a little fucked up, as it were. ]

You talking about smoking, or something else? 'cause now that I think about it, never really did smoke all that much. [ The unnecessary strain on air purifiers in space... ] Was always more of a drinks guy.

[redsoil]

[ Trading one god for another, in the terms of the Ennead, is neither an upgrade nor a downgrade. Set will forever be sour that Quetzalcoatl is gone, but spurning Tezcatlipoca because of that? He'd never think to. Not when they're both intensely alike, and their rationale for assigning the god of the Azteca to the "other side" is,

well.

Just as he said. Because Set is with Meridian. ]

Told you that I would help make it worth your time to manifest among us, Tezkitty!

[picketship]

[Demeisen's presence is crisp: high-fidelity, like he's speaking directly into one's ear. Maybe even speaking from inside their ear. If one turns inward, one might even see him standing there, overlaid against their surroundings like he's standing a few feet away from them, just out of reach of their fingers.

He looks and sounds quite human.]

That your body, then, or have you borrowed some poor fucker's?

[kinaesthesia]

[That familiar, vast feel of this communion space nearly startles Gavial for half a second, because yes, it’s incredibly reminiscent of that particular god who should be totally gone. But she quickly notices the distinct lack of that exuberant warmth Quetzalcoatl was known for—and finds herself curiously drawn in to listen further, her own presence unfalteringly at ease with getting up close with a total stranger.

She finds that she doesn’t particularly care for the how much joy there is to feel there at the mention of his brother’s(??) demise, lacking the obvious knowledge of deific rivalry. And when his introduction comes, it prompts a knee-jerk flash of amusement.]

Tezcatlipoca. Ahuillatoani.

[It’s a wry turn of the word, lightly mocking the seriousness with which he delivered that epithet. She may not be familiar with the ins and outs of the relationships between Aztec gods, but she does know the language, and the weightiness of his introduction reads as a bit much without the context—however well-earned a title it may actually be. She’d been given no reason to doubt the word of the local gods so far, but she can’t resist the opportunity for a little light ribbing.]

You sure have great timing, huh?

[punkisntdead]

[The sensation of opening her mind so fully to other people still feels hella weird, and when connecting with someone proclaiming to be a god… well that vastness is so disorienting that she bites back the initial instinct to call bullshit on it all. Sure, all the worlds have ended and they’ve all been conscripted in some fucked up otherwordly war. Why not bring Actual, Literal gods into the mix! Can’t be any worse or any weirder!

But of course, once he drops the pretentious stuff and gets right into the more important topic of getting fucked up, she’s perking right up.]

Oh, thank fuck, someone who knows how to have a good time. [So all at once she’s settled into a comfortable ease—though there’s a little shakiness just barely lingering around the edges of the confidence she seizes.] If you’re trying to hook me up with god weed, it better be the best shit I’ve ever smoked.

[escardos]

You're here!!!!

[ in a sense, the vastness of tezcatlipoca's realm is something that's almost comforting for an endless, hollow expanse like flat escardos. against the coolness of the god immersed in smoke and fog, flat is simply happy and excited to see him.

he claps his hands together, eyes shining like the first star in the sky. ]

It's a shame that we're on opposing sides, but I totally get your logic! It'd be too unfair otherwise. How are you doing? Lots of people were upset about what happened to Quetzalcoatl, but now you're here too, so it really is like a new sun has come down. Would this technically count as the sixth one? Or since it's a different world, does that mean the count starts over?

[ oh well, not his problem. ]

Good luck on your business! I haven't worked on plants in a while, but let me know if you need help!

[wolof]

[ HELLO TEZCA.... u and Silco already doing stuff so instead you get............ Akua!! Hooray! ]

I don't think there's anything wrong with finding balance in a conflict like this, especially between two gods of war. Will you be as readily invested in the conflict as he?

[ And then... ]

And already investing in the local indulgences, too. You two truly are the same.

[tattooism]

[Kiritsubo does like balance, so... Hmm, seems valid enough as a reason for joining the club. As someone who joined Zenith because the dick was better... Sure. Go for it.

More importantly... (Or at least, what she would like everyone to think she finds more important is-)]

Weed is a bit mild for a god, isn't it?

Not even ayahuasca... ?

[eightfoldfiend]

[When met by Tezca's presence, Yuber's own; one that is heavy like blood-soaked oil, remains uncowed. Indeed, it rises up in shimmering curiosity.

If he were sitting by a campfire he'd be sitting up straight, alert, and smiling.]

A god of war and conflict?

What does that involve?

[bakedapple]

"Weed"?

[ dial-up modem sounds ]

Why would anyone prefer weeds? Aren't farmers always trying to pull them out? They get in the way of the plants you're trying to grow.

[dreamflowers]

So, I didn't understand like most of what you just fucking said. But I've been living with a bloody headache since before coming here, and I must've lost my satchel of Peaceweed at some point during my... transition here. I really don't care which lot you throw in if I can get a few sheaves.

[Jade will just conveniently ignore the whole "god" part. Her atheist ass can only handle so much right now.]

[kaientai]

[ Ryouma never likes to linger on anything sad longer than necessary, so two weeks is plenty of time to fully compartmentalise his feelings about Quetzalcoatl. It means he can approach this Communion with his usual curious open-mindedness.

He's relaxed when he settles near the mental campfire and appreciates the inviting atmosphere. It's admittedly not the sort of thing he expected from someone who calls himself conflict. Oryou's presence lingers just beyond the firelight, dark scales and the impression of watchful eyes more felt than seen, affording him a bit more breathing room than usual. ]

Nice to meet you! [ He does not attempt to repeat Tezca's name because he would find a way to botch it somehow, even in a mental space. ] Does this mean you're a Servant, too?

[ Ryouma knows it's just as likely he isn't, but there is no harm in asking. As for the rest, he knows he isn't going to have a particularly thrilling answer. Being around for a long time doesn't mean he's had the opportunity to experiment. ]

I've smoked plenty of tobacco, but I don't have much experience with the other stuff. Drinking is fine, too, but this place is limited in that regard when you have a craving for something specific.

[ Which is to say those random cravings for specific varieties of sake will always go unfulfilled. ]

At least cigarettes seem more or less the same in any universe.

[umurice]

[Weed?]

No, I prefer flowers. Would you not normally want to get rid of those? They are pests in the fields.

[Though he suppose there are weeds that are pretty enough to collect. He's not sure it's poisonous either, or what he means by "fucked up" (Someone needs to teach him the meaning), but that's his take.]

From your words, it sounds like you are a deity of sorts. I am not familiar with the name though.

[He's surprised, but also, not so much. It isn't like it was unreasonable to believes that even objects can have lives after a century, so a deity descending is possible.]

[clockpunk]

[ the campfire gives off the smoke of nature. the scent that creeps in now is the smoke of industry, cut with steel and perhaps oddly, rain-soaked moss. it's subtle, low, but definitely present.

there's a human boy looking utterly unimpressed on one of the log seats, chin in his hand. ]

Man, can't we get like, a god of blueberries or something? It's always "destruction", "conflict", "being a pain in the ass". [ chrono sighs, stretching. despite this being communion, he seems pretty solidly there. ] Is there a quota we gotta meet?