kenoscomm | Entries tagged with fate/: flat escardos

I have shaken off my sleep, but something I would have dismissed as a bad dream is apparently all too real.

Allow me to report to you now that the demon going by the name "Sebastian Michaelis", the one who viciously fought against us in the Oracle trials, who gladly schemed with that rat Silco to pollute Kowloon beneath Springstar's feet... That thing has left Zenith for Meridian.

Why, exactly? Apparently he will not be gracing us with those important details.

So for your sake... I will report something now that is no business of any of yours. If I do not, I can already imagine the brainless among you clambering to believe that demon is somehow capable of a change of heart. Do you think that smiles and a polite act are enough to overlook the consumption of souls? Or perhaps you will forgive his twisted violence under the false idea that he only employed it when an Oracle was at stake? Just because it clings to the fringes of Meridian's light in order to keep its power do not think that it is committed in any way to saving our worlds.

( content warnings: kidnapping, noncon surgery, eye gore, attempted suicide )

Now.

The people that were scouted on my behalf before to help remove that cursed eye are dead and gone now. So if any one of you listening can take it out cleanly, speak up. I will pay you if need be.

If its not out of me within the week I am ripping it out myself.

escardos

I've been thinking.

[ the presence in the communion is like the expansive void, dark and lonesome. and yet, within that darkness, flat's chipper voice resonates clearly and innocently, though whether it's a blessing or a curse is unknown. ]

You know how we've apparently been asleep for a 114 years? Well, that means that I've missed about 114 birthdays. And that means that you guys have also missed 114 birthdays. That's horrible! There's nothing more important than the celebration of life.

[ he sounds horrified, but 'sounds' is as far as it gets. he continues, with an energy and cheer that is, perhaps, not befitting a place that is quickly rushing towards both war and oblivion. ]

Therefore, happy belated birthdays to everyone! Enjoy being alive for yet another year and that this world has not yet been consumed by the void!

leicesters

[Claude's communion prescence has always been like a summer breeze; warm, easygoing, albeit difficult to read before it moves on. Now it has more of a brittle, bitter quality, like a looming dust-cloud he has to hold at a distance. There's no going back from this point when he knows things will only escalate from here, and so now seems like an important time to address his fellow Meri.]

The fight for the next Oracle will be on us soon. The Tribune may have been slain, but he entrusted the future of the worlds to us. Though he won't be able to help us see this through, we can still fight for him, and all the others we've lost along the way. We can fight for Springstar... and we can fight for Quetzalcoatl.

[There's a brief pause on this point. Her death deserves respect and acknowledgement, and she may not be the last to meet such a fate before the fighting is over.]

...We'll fight for your homes, too. After all, our worlds aren't that different, right? They might be flawed in their own ways, and there might even be some of you who would rather stay here when this is done. But every world and the life on it is precious, and it beats whatever phony world Yima and her followers come up with.

Speaking of Yima: I've discussed this with a few people already, but I suspect she's still alive. When the Blight almost destroyed Kenos, somehow she was still around. When I asked her about it, she said she wasn't bound by time like a normal person is. She can exist in different times and different places simultaneously; I don't know how it works, but maybe she even foresaw this attempt on her life before it even happened.

That said, it's just speculation, so we might as well play dumb and behave towards Zenith as if we're convinced she's dead for now. It'll be easier for us that way.

[Others have probably arrived at a similar conclusion, perhaps people among Zenith's ranks too, but it bears saying, particularly for those newly arrived to the conflict.]

Anyway, enough about her -- how about we use this opportunity for a little strategy get-together? We have a few new faces around, so feel free to introduce yourself and your capabilities.

For those of us who have been around longer, feel free to toss in an introduction too. More importantly, share what you know about Zenith and its current capabilities, in combat or otherwise. Any insight into their current thinking would be useful right now, too. What's their morale like? We know by now that some of them really hate our guts, and I wonder how much their desire for revenge is going to play into the next battle...

[He sounds casual, almost flippant, but there's a serious point in there he's sure he doesn't need to overstate: the more loyal Zenites are going to have some serious motivation in the next battle to get back at them, whether they believe Yima is gone or not.]

Let's not let our own judgement be clouded by revenge, even if we've sustained losses. We need to go into this with a clear head, looking toward the future.

Oh-- on that note, Hayame wants to speak with some of you about some further strategising either before or after the Oracle. Sorry that's a little vague, but I'm sure she'll talk to you about it properly when the time comes. For now, let's just focus on one thing at a time.

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.

warmare

[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?

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. ]

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 fate/: flat escardos

meridian locked

open.

LOCKED TO MERIDIAN

ota;

locked to meridian + ota

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

[ open communion ] || POINTS MY GUN DIRECTLY AT THE SUN

pop rocks

open to all | questions and apologies

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