kenoscomm | Entries tagged with suikoden: yuber

[ ooc; Be sure to mind the content warnings and feel free to tell him to go pound sand if you want because he sucks. ]

[ Not long after Harmonising to Zenith, an unfamiliar presence reaches out in Communion — but only to those souls who have made the same choice.

The undead Scourge upon Azeroth had once felt the same presence in what remained of their minds, sharp and painful in its abruptness like an icy lance to the back of the skull. His powers are diminished considerably in the absence of Frostmourne, so his voice no longer compels other souls to obey, but Arthas speaks as if issuing a command nonetheless. ]

Greetings, Zenites. I am Arthas, the Lich King; Death itself comes to aid you in this war. Know that I reserve my words for only those who have made the right choice, so let us speak now of the future.

[ It would be correct to assume there is an unspoken implication that something else is in store for those who have not made the right choice; he has other plans for an introduction to the enemy. ]

I understand the difficulty of delivering an inevitable but undesirable truth to those who would prefer to deny it. I know you must have the courage to do whatever it takes to protect what can be saved. Those of you who believe you have that courage, present yourselves to me.

[ An odd gentleness tinges his voice, brought about by sympathy for their shared burden. He understands. This is an old conflict he's fought before taking on a new form — Meridian and Zenith, Light and Shadow, Life and Death. ]

The rest of you should pray we never meet on the battlefield.

[ The iciness returns. Arthas has no room for weakness, and neither should Zenith, in his opinion, not that anyone asked.

Anyone who chooses to ignore him will experience nothing further once the chill recedes, but the Communion shifts for any who decide to respond, details forming out of dense fog until you find yourself standing upon the spire of ice known as the Frozen Throne. He had been so much a part of it once his mind recreates it easily. Every so often, the howling wind sounds more like tortured voices or frantic shrieks than a mimicry of the rush of air at a high altitude. Given what this place really is, it's probably fine.

Besides the eeriness of his undead state, Arthas sits upon his throne with a confidence that goes beyond arrogance — it is the surety of a man who knows he was born to rule over other men, still a king in his own mind, even if his world is dead and gone.

Every soul was gone, too. His father. Uther. Jaina, Arthas realises with a pang of painful sadness reserved only for her, buried too deep and distant to show on his face this time. All of them gone; all of them lost to Oblivion. Even the Holy Light hadn't saved them for all of their supposed righteousness. Something ugly inside him relishes the thought, and Arthas smiles unpleasantly, leering down at whoever has come to treat with him. He has never been one for subtlety, but he doesn't believe anything about a king should ever be subtle. ]

corvidant

[ Though the familiar red of his presence shines bright as ever, the heat of anger that usually follows is down to a low simmer, almost pleasant if one has an inclination for a continuous undercurrent of chaos. Fellow Iconoclasts might be able to feel it like a fever, just barely high enough to keep you restless through the night, a heartbeat too impatient and eager for relief, but on the outside, this is perhaps as close to calm as Akechi ever gets. ]

Something has been on my mind since our communion with Florence-san. Something of a high stakes gambit.

[ And it goes without saying that it should be high risk, as well, but he's fine with that. His entire past life was all about playing a rigged game with the odds stacked against him; whatever new world they create going forward would be meaningless without a fair fighting chance. ]

So, I'll be blunt: I'm not willing to sit pretty and simply wait for the enemy to make a move on us. Zenith continues to bleed, and since so many of you-- [ are so SPINELESS as to refuse to KILL ENEMIES IN A WAR-- okay, deep breaths, Iconoclasts please disregard these ~~careless~~ whispers ] --have qualms about trimming Meridian's numbers, I should hope that taking direct action to bolster our forces would be more... palatable.

As it stands, our best alternative would be focusing on the Oracles, though I don't intend to wait for trials, either.

[ Should he mention his experience with big heists and forcibly changing cognition? Maybe, when the moment is opportune. For now: ]

Whether it is creating a new world from scratch or [ scoff, big eye roll ] a deluded promise of restoration, the fact remains that neither side will accomplish their goals with only a portion of the Oracles in their hands. We have barely managed to scrape a win and even our numbers last time, and assuming we can claim the remaining two, at the end of the day it would all be futile effort without the six of them. If I work on the premise that Oracles are persuaded to joining a side just like Shardbearers, then it becomes logical that, like Shardbearers, so too can they shift allegiances.

Well, that's only my working hypothesis, anyway. It would be easier to figure out a potential pattern had I been present for past successes and failures, so this is why I reach out to you today: for details regarding past trials. With few leads to follow, even hearsay and rumors about the nature of Oracles would be appreciated.

[ A beat, and as he hesitates, his constant simmering rises to a near boil: ] Unless anyone else would be interested in coming along to investigate?

[ What is this? Teamwork?! UGH. The things he does for Zenith...!! ]

holonethero

[Anakin has taken his time in reaching out to others, partially because he doesn't really like the idea of communion and partially because of his desire to remain detached, but he knows that isn't feasible. He's heard all of the warnings about the war coming to an end soon, and about the need for action...but committing to that is not something he's willing to do just yet. However he still wants to be of some help, and in a sudden, snap decision he just...does it.

His mental voice falters briefly, almost as though he's thinking better of it, but when he does speak up it's in a confident, clear tone. He's used to public speaking, at least, even if this is a little weird.]

Good afternoon. I have been remiss in introducing myself to the rest of you. My name is Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and General of the Grand Army of the Galactic Republic. I've recently arrived and I've been slowly taking things in. I have a few questions, and an offer I'd like to put on the table.

[His thoughts slow, and are accompanied by images of a long stone room with a shallow, sandy floor. A training room.]

The offer first. I have trained many men and women in my unit in self-defense, and I've had an apprentice Jedi up until very recently. I've come to understand that many of you come from civilian backgrounds. If you would like to learn how to fight, or you'd like to brush up on things, particularly when it comes to swordsmanship, please seek me out.

[He pauses to let that sink in before going on.]

Secondly, the questions. I'm curious what made you choose Zenith to give your allegiance? And I would also ask what would make you change your mind? I am not intending to question anyone's loyalties or allegiances except possibly my own, I just would like to understand why you've made the choice you did. It may help me frame my own thoughts better.

Thank you for your time and your thoughts.

[His thoughts quiet then, waiting for responses.]

bakedapple

Hey, everyone. It's... been quiet. I know it's sort of a complicated question, but... how is everyone?

[ As usual, Link's presence in Communion is humble and mild. Where he would normally be accompanied by the smell of morning dew on grass or the sensation of cold wind pricking one's cheeks, today is different — it's warm, like you're sitting next to an indoor fireplace, and there's a strong scent of expresso mixed with a hint of dusty paper. ]

Something has been on my mind lately. If you don't want to talk, you can tune this out now. It's fine.

[ Link usually does not manifest a physical, visual image in Communion, but there's a slight, soft imprint of the ridges of his fingerprint scraping against the edge of a sheet of paper. ]

Have you heard of "fate" before? Um, I guess most of you probably have, but it was sort of new to me. Not something I ever really thought about until I came to Kenos.

It's this idea of... everything that has happened, was always going to happen. And everything that will happen in the future has already been decided on, and can't be changed.

Do you think it's real? And what about... "destiny"? Is it different from fate, or the same thing?

appeale

Hey.

[ even to those who have only encountered Rudbeckia's presence in passing via Communion, something is noticeably different. her mind has always been something warm and friendly, deliberately appealing to make others feel at ease; she herself would withdraw timidly from the touch of another's mind, always guarded and cautious while doing her best not to seem so.

now, the landscape that surrounds her is unwelcoming and barren. those red sands that used to warm her feet have turned cold. and most significantly, not a trace of fear remains in her – but it isn't courage, or strength, or confidence that has changed her.

the impression of her blank stare is that of someone who stands on a ledge uncaring of which way she might fall. ]

What the hell did you guys do in the Oracle trial?

bakedapple

[ Link's mental space feels like being outside, so depending on where you are, you might not realize that someone has started Communion with you. Since joining the Zenith, the landscape of Link's mind has gone from idyllic, sunny forests to icy, overcast mountains. A frigid wind blows against your face, carrying the scent of firewood and meat roasting over an open flame. The diminutive Hylian is not sitting by the fire, but standing at the edge of a rocky ledge, his back turned. ]

There's going to be another Oracle soon. I can feel it. The rest of you can feel it too, right? That... pulling feeling.

[ He sighs. ]

If we lose this one, it's over. The Meridian isn't going to go easy on us. I know them... I know how badly they want to win. To them, the stakes couldn't be higher.

So let's talk. About what we're going to be up against, and... well, planning ahead isn't really something we can do, but at least we can warn each other of the dangers that individual Meri pose.

And I... I want to say something, too.

[ He sits down where he stands, his feet hanging off the cliff. There's a sense that he knows this isn't going to go over well, but it's important enough to him to say it anyway. ]

Killing the other guy before they kill you is what war is. That's normal. But Kenos is different. Death doesn't work the way it should here. We don't die permanently. You can neutralize someone threatening you by just dissipating them. There's nothing to gain by destroying their soul after you're no longer in danger.

So, I don't think any of us should shatter anyone ever again.

If you claim someone's Shard, you should protect it. If you feel that you can't do that, give it to someone else.

...I'm not stupid. I know a lot of you aren't gonna agree to this. And the Meris probably won't either. I'm sure they want revenge for what happened to Quetzalcoatl, and those of you who lost the Shards Yima gave you probably aren't feeling very merciful right now either...

But if we don't come to some kinda agreement now, that's going to become normal. Things are gonna get really bad. I don't want that. So... can we talk about it, at least?

baltimores

[ This isn't exactly something he does. Not on this scale, at least.

This communion's presence is akin to stepping off into the vacuum of space, cold and dark and empty. A void without feeling, submersed into nothingness — but deep enough there's also the faint pulse of a drowned, hurting heart. And even though it's coming from Amos, there's the sense of him curiously poking at it like an open wound.

It has been a couple of weeks since he killed Cyrus, a fact he has not bothered to hide. A couple of weeks since he has been forced to contend with the responsibility he bears for the deaths of innocents in Springstar, and so — ]

Hey.

[ When he speaks his voice is soft, and gentle, and something that could maybe even be called repentant. Or at least trying to be, the concept being a very, very, very new one for him. ]

So, I've been doing some thinking. There was this time I got caught up in a mass casualty event. Lady I knew then was a nurse, so she was doing what she could, because it had to be done. She also took the time to spend time with the dead. All of them, I think. I didn't really get it then, but I think maybe now...

[ He trails off, fumbling with his words. That pulse maybe grows a little stronger, and then he's back. ]

I dunno how feasible it is, but we should be collecting the names of everyone who died during all of this. When we make the new world — [ because there is no doubt in his mind that Zenith is going to succeed, and their new world will be made — ] we can build some kind of monument. Put everyone's names on it. Give people a space to take their moments with them, even if they ain't here anymore.

I know this don't exactly fix anything, but it's a start. I can keep track of the names. [ There's another pause, and when Amos speaks again, he's much more sure of himself. ] I won't forget them.

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. ]

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! ]

cutlery

[ By the time Sebastian reaches out in Communion, he’s already felt the fullness of his rage and taken it out. Viciously. It’s an occasion where he’s grateful for what Ryad provides, lest he had to express it in a more troublesome way.

Sebastian’s usual affect is warm and friendly, if with a polite distance, but today, it’s ice cold. His Communion is always expressed as something dark, but there’s a secondary sensation that comes today as well. It’s the unsettling sensation of being watched that makes someone’s hair raise. After all, there’s uncountable eyes in that abyssal dark. ]

I shall be brief. Someone broke into my home a few days ago and left a “gift” most unwelcome. A Shard belonging to someone from my home. Yet, though I kept it isolated to inspect it further, that did not seem to matter. It infected the Shard that Lady Yima gave me. A Shard that is now no more, for it burst. The soul that was in that little rock is no more.

[ His voice becomes more tense at that last sentence. It’s clear he’s very intentionally holding back his temper significantly. ]

I make this announcement for my fellow Zenites’ sake that they might destroy any they come upon immediately. Also to inform them that there is a way for these Shards to be tampered with that has been exploited. But let me also be clear.

I will find whoever was unwise enough to step into my home and play with my pet. I went through great lengths to obtain that soul, and I do not take kindly to being robbed of it. But there is no need for threats beyond that, is there?

[ So he says, but it’s crystal clear—Whoever it was, they’re in grave danger if they’re discovered. ]

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.

tresemme

[ if you’re lucky, you’ve never heard this voice before. if you have, you’ll probably notice that he seems considerably less grouchy than he did making his greeting rounds in springstar and highstorm. tony has had time to settle in, and more importantly, he’s made some big decisions about what side he wants to support here.

…for now, at least, which is the quiet motivation behind his demanding communion. he seems utterly at home invading people’s minds, and there’s the sense of him stretching out like he’s been here the whole time and was just waiting for you to get home. ]

People here are from all different worlds, right?

[ rhetorical question, and he continues. ]

I want to hear from whoever’s been to Terra. The third planet in the Sol System. I know some of you call it Earth—the fact that you have a name for it means that you know about it. [ a pause. ] I’ll torture the knowledge out of you if I have to, but it’s easier for everyone if you just cough it up.

[ that seems to be the end of that, unless you’re a zenite, to which he then narrows his focus. ]

…sorry if you heard me say I want all the humans to die. I know we have to work together.

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Entries tagged with suikoden: yuber

CLOSED TO ZENITH | A CALL TO ARMS

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