kenoscomm | Entries tagged with howl's moving castle: howl

[Hayame had plenty to say about this disgraceful farce the moment she had regained consciousness... But she waited. She waited, so that her emotions would be as locked down and as under control as she could manage. Until only harsh anger and the burn of judgement come through- at least, for now.

First, she addresses only Meridian.]

I hope you are proud of yourself.

Those of you who have been too weak to commit properly to this cause, content to let those with drive and will do the winning of Oracles on your and your world's behalf.

Those of you who claim allegiance to Meridian but have been content to play "neutral" and hide like a weak little bug in the shadow of those more powerful than you.

Those of you who could not draw a single line in the sand and loved playing friend or whore too much to break off relations with people working to ensure that the lives of everyone in your world are snuffed out permanently.

Those of you who have refused to shatter the shards of our enemies, whining about the sanctity of a soul, even though that is the only way to kill someone properly in this twisted world.

Mourn that sun goddess for the power she possessed that our faction has lost. Mourn the kindness she showed you, if you so wish. But I will impart a lesson unto you- If someone is kind to everyone, then their kindness means absolutely nothing. That empty-headed fool of a woman had her shard shattered by the very man whose shard she protected, after I and another killed him in the labyrinth of the Harbinger Oracle trial. If she had given that foul thing back to us so that I might crush it beneath my hoof, then she would be alive today.

That is what kindness of that nature will reap you. A disgraceful public execution at the hands of a wizened, corpse-gnawing gaki barely managing the veneer of a man.

If you wish to dedicate yourself further to the actual cause you claim to serve, or if you wish to train and empower yourself, I will gladly help you. It would be my honor.

But if your plan is to continue living the sort of shameful existence that helped allow for the assassination of Springstar's Tribune at his own godsdamned home, then either purge yourself of that treacherous weakness... or I will try to find the time in my days to do it for you.

[Maybe this is where she could stop, take a breath... But she does not. The rest, cold and hateful and roiling with anger, is said to everyone, Zenite and Unharmonized alike.]

To all those who still claim allegiance to Zenith... I will not waste breath trying to convince you of anything at all, let alone now, after what your faction has wrought upon countless innocents. Whether you are a poor thing who would abandon every life in your world simply because you were treated badly, whether you are a pathetic thing who cannot muster the will to hope for anything but that sacred bitch on high and a committee of degenerates making a new world for you to exist in, or whether you are a sick thing who delights in watching worlds burn and people die... I, Hayame of Echigo, do not care, and I will not show mercy to one any more than the other.

Unlike, it seems, the many dishonorable among you, I say this to you plainly and clearly.

I will disable you if I see you step foot in Springstar.

I will hunt down your cornerstones and smash them to pieces.

And I will kill you if you put yourself between me and the possibility of returning to my world and my duty.

... Ah, yes. To those of you who have still not chosen a side, even after seeing what has occurred this moon... My advice to you is to stay Unharmonized, to pick up a hoe, and to go tend crops in Alenroux. You obviously lack the determination required for this conflict... and the people require food. Go on.

If you need a recommendation for a farmer looking for labor, I know plenty. Do you fancy turnips, or buckwheat?

zauneyete

[ Some recent arrivals have not really been treated to Silco via communion, and the crime lord does not frequently use it, and certainly has never initiated it en-masse, even though he's spoken his mind time, and time again. You all know him, because it's always some kind of rant. Well surprise! It's another one today! As always, communion feels like being dropped into cold, slick water, that clings like it's vile and corrupted, like pollutants make it feel clingy, like it doesn't simply dry off normally. It's like being dunked into that water, like being drowned in it. Like there is no escape from it, ever-present, pulling one under.

This communion is sharp, and agitated. Silco does not do this lightly, and it shows in the general anger expressed from the man. Roiling under the water like a furnace spilling heat that gets quickly swallowed by the cold, but still it churns deep beneath the surface. Intensifying. Ever intensifying. ]

How many of you have struggled? Truly struggled, where you have to fight for your very survival. Every moment of every day. Have any of you fought to find a place to sleep? Hunted for hours for food? Winnowed your fingers to the bone for the mere scraps of what those who look down upon you only allow you to have? Struggle is what war is, after all.

[ In communion, there is the sensation of something in your hand. Small, and delicate. So small, so easy to crush, should you only choose to do so. And you want to. You hold off, of course. What is it in your hand? The sensation of holding it up to the light, and there's the impression of a glimmer, brighter and more unknowable than you could imagine. ]

For too long, you all have lacked the resolve to take this seriously. Who can blame you, of course. So warm in your little beds under Meridian's light, or Yima's watchful eye. There is no true danger, is there? Even the most powerful among you would never go too far with their enemies, would they? [ He has no clue what had happened in the manor. He had been in Kowloon, deep in the bowels beneath Springstar. No news made it to him down there, and this only a scant bit of time after the manor was leveled. ] No, they would keep you, perhaps. Leave you a nice little bed for a rock.

[ A derisive snort, ripples through communion, before it is swallowed with a ripple of... something dark. Hopelessness. ]

Let me teach you a final lesson. Zenites, I suggest you pay close attention. Do not look away, should you not learn this lesson, you will have wasted your opportunity. Where I come from, we do not abide waste.

They do not care about you, the Meridian. They will do anything to see you stopped. The new world that you dream of will be nothing if you do not fight for it. You make friends with them. You coddle them. You allow them victory when the Oracle is nearly in our hands Do you not understand? If you do not take this seriously, then there will be no world at the end of this. There will be only what they want.

Meridian will not show you mercy. They will not allow you to go anywhere. They will shatter you, for the crime of wanting something different. Of refusing to look back. Our worlds are gone. Destroyed. It is not your fault, it is not their fault. It simply is. They detest us for accepting this. They hate us for looking forward, to trying to take the ashes of our shared tragedy, and make something new. Meanwhile, they refuse to accept the inevitable, try to put it back like it was before.

They proclaim it as hope. I call it regressive. They will take our world from us. [ In communion, the self-editing is more obvious, and the echo of 'revenge' can be just barely sensed, behind the impression of "world" ] Unless you fight them, and take the threat that they pose seriously.

[ Thin, small fingers clutch the small, round thing. You can all feel it. It is power. Deep, and weighty, like what is contained within -- the soul inside -- is vast. It nearly buckles under the force, but not quite yet. You know it is jade, and teardrop shaped now. You can feel it burning, in your hand. The impression of it, anyway. ]

Consider this my small gift to you. [ His fingers start to press down. It starts to buckle, and crack. ] I will level the playing field.

[ It shatters, the impression of it in your hands. Crushed into many pieces. The burning prick in your hand starts to subside, and fade. The impression of remnants in your hand goes cold.

In Springstar, for a moment. There is a Solar Eclipse. ]

Do not waste this opportunity, Zenites.

[ Communion like this does not normally cut off with such finality. This time, however, it will become rapidly apparent. Silco will not be responding, since he's uh. Busy. By the time he is ~~able~~ willing, it will be several days later, and communion does not last that long.

Feel free to gossip amongst yourselves though! ]

semicharmed

[ The psychic presence is tactile, first. Like a hand fumbling in the dark, knowing his fingers could brush up against someone at any moment and trying to avoid unwelcome contact.

Then: ]

Oh.

[ Or whatever passes for oh in Matt's mind. In this case, it's something like if a stray puff of air managed to light a candle, rather than extinguish it. The eureka moment is followed by a laugh, soda-fizz of endorphins that rises and feathers away. ]

Holy shit, you're right there, aren't you?

I mean--I think I can hear you.

Hello?

[ ooc: As noted here, Matt is reset! So if you knew him in AT, you are more than welcome to recognize him; he just won't remember you. PM or hit up

artistformerlyknownas to ask questions or throw ideas around. :3 :3 :3 ]

cyfaredd

[ Howl's Communion opens in mid-afternoon, entering your brain like a blast of cold air scented with several heavily-applied perfumes. The sensation is so strong that you may actually smell it for real, like an olfactory hallucination, dominated by the scent of hyacinths but tinged with something smoky and earthy, reminiscent of a wood-burning fireplace.

The presence of the person himself is just as loud as the smell. He hasn't opened a connection with everyone so much as he's thrown the door open and allowed his own self-manufactured radiance to command everyone's attention. The mental voice that follows is youthful, confident and flows with a strong Welsh accent. ]

Good afternoon. My name is Howl. Wizard Howl.

I already know what some of you are thinking when you hear that, and no — whoever it was that was once in this world with the same name, I am not him returned. And I don't know anything about that man either, so please, don't hold anything he did against me.

Anyway, now that it's been a few weeks, I've an important matter that I wish to raise with you all. That being: how many of you actually believe what we've been told about how we got here and what we're meant to do with ourselves?

[ The question is punctuated by the impression of Howl leaning back in a plush armchair, crossing his legs and folding his hands together in his lap. ]

If you ask me, we're quite obviously being lied to. None of it adds up, and half of the "proof" is in the form of dreams, which are easily manipulated by someone with the right knowledge, skill and power. I could do it myself if I wanted.

But I already know what I think. I want to know how the rest of you are taking it.

[ He throws up one hand in a shrug. ]

And for the more indoctrinated among you... well, if there's something I'm missing, please! Inform me. I'm all ears.

KENOS (Communion)

Entries tagged with howl's moving castle: howl

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