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 Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial There is a glade, born of stars. Little cold ones that shimmer, brighter ones that flicker. They form trees, and birds that sing, and bushes that rustle in the chime-wind. Through it flows a babbling brook of starwine, the sweetest thing in all the Celestial. The tears of fond memories, reunited lovers, spiced with the light of sunset. And in this place, in a hammock not far from the Celestial Palace, is Maladine. She reclines, and lets out a long sigh. It is the last year of her century-long vacation, mandated by Luna by threat of withheld kisses and a few stern glares when she protested. Maladine dips her finger in the cool stream, sighs. The chime-wind feels so good across her face, and now that her vacation comes to a close she dreads work. Emoch would go back to insulting her. She'd have to defend Kem, and no doubt Forex had caused at least one mass starvation while she was napping. And poor Jormy, poor Jormy. Maladine can only hope she held up on her own. Her fingers rise again. The wine seeps into them, and all the tension in her arm dissolves. She listens to prayers to her dozens of aspects, to catch up on mortal business. What had those innovative little things got- Oh. This is not good. Forex taught mortals to consume and consume and consume, and the second they saw new horizons to gobble up their bellies rumbled. There would be war, there would be colonialism, Forex's term for the whole dreadful endeavor of stomping other cultures to steal what was theirs. In the end, the only one whose belly might really fill is Kem's. She must do something before things get out of control. And so as the last year of her vacation wiled away, she planned new constellations. New spells to teach them to help the disadvantaged stand a chance, new magic to heal, and prophecies. Her own educated guesses mixed with moral guidance. Wise mortals who followed her knew how to watch the stars and read her messages in them. She only hopes it's enough to head off some of the damage her brother would do. --- OOC: Maladine uses Gift, Witchcraft and Celestial to give guidance and knowledge to mortal kind to help prepare them for the coming violence.
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Mar 24, 2019 23:06
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine sighs. It wasn't what she wanted, not quite. Too precarious. Ugh, Forex would know how to deal with it but brother would no doubt put his own terrible spin on th- No. Maladine is not starting her work millennium like this. It'll just get her wound up all at once. There was time yet, a few years to get back into the swing of things and spend a little bit of time with a cherished someone. Someone who needed her help, who made her smile and laugh with almost every interaction. And so she falls, a constellation of shooting stars in the Celestial, towards Wax, towards her body. As she falls it weaves itself from the Celestial, like thread from a skein. The wide-brimmed hat, the gold of virtue and the black of the long vigil. Sigils. Her goldfingers that wove the Celestial when she was among the physical. And so, the stars shimmer above a familiar place - the Stormheart Archipelago, where the sea is so calm it looks as if a mirror of the night. Maladine appears above the water and the wreckage as if she was always there. Stars gather at her shoulders, forming her two loyal messengers - the Celestial Guardians. They take their places, sniffling in the cool night air. "Ohhh Raindrop!" Maladine says in sing-song, her hat bobbing back and forth. "How's my favorite sea-serpent?"
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Mar 26, 2019 21:51
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial She giggles at the sounds of Jormgir dramatically coiling and uncoiling. Even with a blind goddess she needs the pageantry, so Maladine tries to look suitably impressed. (And likely fails) "I missed you too, Raindrop." Maladine says with a playful grin. "Is that a fresh molt I smell?" Her voice is rich, deep and sweet like clotted cream. One of the last vestiges of the old days. She thinks of how soft those scales must feel. The guardians form a hammock of stars for her, and Maladine stretches lazily in it. Outside the Celestial itself, the Stormheart Archipelago was the only place she felt she could relax a bit. "How have things been for you in my absence? I was worried about you."
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Mar 27, 2019 21:53
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine remembers their history too. Sometimes when Jormgir speaks, dread fills her bones, makes her ache down to her deific soul with raw fear. She brushes away those moments, Jormgir has enough on her plate. She doesn't need guilt from Maladine too, and she has to admit she enjoys Jormgir's sense of humor, the way kind words sound in a peal of thunder, the smell of brine and the sense of the ancient she brings with her. Sometimes, their long history is almost a blessing. There is so much between them they don't have to say. "I saw, I don't like it either. It's giving the mortals terrible ideas. They see all the world laid before them like a feast, and think nothing of what it might cost." She turns in the hammock to face Jorm, props up her head with a hand. "But who I worry for most are the little ones. Their worship is built around small ecosystems, ways of life that might get trampled in the rush." A guardian rises into the sky to grab a glass of starwine for Maladine. She takes it with thanks, and sips slowly. "Oh, this is such a mess. And the more I think about it the worse it gets. If we all start tugging on the skein of life at once something's bound to come loose, maybe something that shouldn't." A longer drink. "Or stars forbid, there might be war among the gods." She sighs, and swirls the glass to listen to the sound of the wine bubbling. "I'm sorry, the first thing I bring you back from vacation isn't some nice earring or a pretty song, but more worry when your plate is already stacked high with them." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 22:33 on Mar 27, 2019 |
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Mar 27, 2019 22:28
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine giggles again. "As subtle as a mudbrick ziggurat to the face." A snort gets out of her before she can stop it. "You know he actually did that once, built an entire religion around denouncing me. They had a very nice ziggurat." An eyeroll. "Really, he's more of a headache than Sister." Kem, the memory chills both of them. Maladine sighs. There are so many reminders of her failures, and Dearest Sister was always the one that hurt the most. She looked up to Maladine, relied on Maladine to keep her safe and yet and yet... No. No crying. Not already. Not around Jorm. She finishes the glass, and a guardian dissolves the stars that hold it together. They float back to the Celestial. "What would you say to a Moot? I don't know of any of us can tackle this on our own, and we're leaving the voices that need help out. I have ideas about getting everyone there."
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Mar 27, 2019 22:49
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Oh we don't need to convince Emoch of anything. We need Forex. If Forex comes, Emoch will learn, and Emoch will follow and barge in demanding to be seated. We will smile warmly and offer him a seat. He will think he has scored a great victory, and perhaps even be less annoying than usual. I can handle Brother." She says with no small amount of pride, and then Dearest Sister is mentioned. "Yes...yes, I believe that might be prudent." She bites her lip. She never felt comfortable about putting Jormgir around Kem, not because she was worried Jormgir would backslide but because she worried for Dear Sister. Jorm had her feelings about her, and more than once she had to stop the serpent from coming down on Kem. "But you have to promise me, if things get violent you won't kill her. I will heal Sister one day, I know it." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 23:42 on Mar 27, 2019 |
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Mar 27, 2019 23:20
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Jormgir you sh-" And she's gone. Suddenly this place seems so cold and ugly. She sighs. Hurting Jorm always left her with an awful feeling in her gut. A little tear worms it's way out before she can stop it. Maladine leans down to talk to a guardian. It listens raptly and scrawls a message on star-born parchment. When it's finished it dashes under the waves after Jorm. She takes a moment to clear her mind, Forex was canny and at this point she did not need the whole world to know how she felt about Jorm. The way she shivered when she thought of touching those scales, how sometimes instead of dread Jorm's voice made her wonder how it would feel to kiss her. It was absurd, they spent aeons trying to kill one another, and yet...Maladine sighs. Her heart is a heedless hunter. A breath. She focuses on the babbling brook, the songs Luna sings her when she's stressed. The stress melts, and Maladine raises her goldfingers. The threads of her body dissolve, and slither back into the night sky. On the other side of the world there is a small country manor. To the ignorant eye it might look humble, workmanlike. A wise eye would see the stones are held together without mortar - only their expert cuts hold them together. And the windows, windows! They're clear and bright. The finest glass in all the world. The threads of Maladine rush from the sky, and weave her together again on the manor's front step. She adjusts her hat, and then knocks. "Brother!" She says in her most friendly voice. "I'm back from my vacation! May I come in?" If she's lucky, she caught him having breakfast. He was always most pliable at breakfast. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 01:10 on Mar 28, 2019 |
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Mar 28, 2019 00:52
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Bright mood, excellent. She follows him into the living room, still managing to bump her leg on an end table. Another rafter almost claims her hat before a Celestial Guardian rights it. She loved the fire, the smell of cherry logs and fresh cooking, but this place is stained with the sound of a thousand arguments. They echo in her ears as she sits down across from him. His warmth could be a mere facade, with Forex there was nothing above manipulation. Sometimes she wondered if he was truly capable of love for her or Little Sister. Such thoughts were not worthy of a deity such as herself, and she brushes them off. She laughs at his stories, produces properly impressed facial expressions, and takes proffered tea. Honey and barley, nice and warm. "Oh no, no ghostgrass today but thank you for the thought, Dear Brother." She says with a smile. Another story or two, a cup of tea. She tells him about the work Luna had done on the chime-wind, the new wedding earring she made for them - pearl and platinum, studded with bright diamonds. The various happenings in the Outer Celestial, and the work of her various wives. "Kylis is still convinced she has to watch the outside for all eternity. I wish she'd come home more often, she burdens herself so much with our safety and it hurts in my soul." And his favorite word comes up again. "And all those opportunities are why I'm here Dearest Brother. For in your own words 'Opportunity plus haste equals waste'." So many rules about business, none about how you should treat your loved ones, the needy, how to be kind. She loves the opportunity to turn them against him. "As indeed, this time might produce great wealth but if we all work at cross purposes I'm afraid none might gain." She waits to gauge his reaction before continuing. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 02:59 on Mar 28, 2019 |
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Mar 28, 2019 02:36
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "I believe not, it's equal to the finery of the Celestial itself. Almost to my very vestments." She nods, her smile grows with each sentence. It's hard not to get caught up in his infectious charisma, even for her. "You're right brother, it is a great chance for their perspectives to grow and for them to understand their world better. But...prudence demands I call for a Moot. It's clear to see a new Age is upon us with all these changes, we must gather - little ones and great ones alike - and plan for this new, interconnected world. The very speed with which they are learning to move could be our undoing if we assume the quiet dogmas of the Third Age apply now." Her fingers trace the patterns in the grassilk. She waits three beats. "I assume, dear brother, you have concerns?"
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Mar 28, 2019 03:48
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Brother, brother, brotherrr..." It's a smooth sound, like an ocean against the ears. "I promise though sometimes I might see issue in the details of your stewardship, the overall work you've done for mortalkind is superlative. I'm content to leave the stewardship of the world to you, you know best how hold Emoch and Sister's ambitions in check here." She smiles, takes an offered snack of minced lamb on fresh slices of caravan-bread. "My concern always remains firmly above the world. I fear this situation could lead to Godwar without a Moot. Crab he might be, but even Emoch is not interested in seeing the peace between gods that has reigned since Sister slew the Dark shattered." She furrows her brow, empty eye-sockets stare at the wall behind Forex. "But you are right about Dearest Sister, her...habits could easily derail a successful Moot. That is why we need to keep her close, she cannot rampage beyond our sight butttt...." She stops to take a long sip of tea, and then follows it up with a generous bite of caravan-bread. "She also must remain distracted, so until we can properly discuss her illness with her there are no issues. I have ideas for that." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 20:10 on Mar 28, 2019 |
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Mar 28, 2019 19:53
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Why is everyone talking about the Ser-" And he's gone. Maladine sighs and rubs her temples. What a year already. She dissolves into thread-form again, and escapes through a window. Maladine only forms again high above the world, so high she can see the atmosphere bleed into the Celestial. There, growing from the Celestial like a mole, is her work palace. It is a relatively humble abode equipped with only three fountains and five guest rooms. At least it lets her take off her flesh, sitting just close enough to the edge so she might be what lies below the facade - the night sky itself, writhing and burning with a thousand cold stars. It moves through the palace with grace, over Luna's alchemy texts and long love letters back and forth with her wives. The Guardian leads, pushing curtains and drapes and vases out of the way so she doesn't stumble on them. A small chest, next to her desk where she sat weighing souls. Made of a hard and terrible material that was always slimy and cold to the touch. Her tendrils pull the lid off delicately, and stare at the souls laying within. They're sinners, Dearest Sisters meals. She pulls them out, sets them upon the desk. Their screams will fill the empty halls. OOC: As we discussed, using WITHOLD and The Celestial to forge what amounts to an occult squeaky toy to distract Kem from causing mischief during the Moot. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 02:26 on Mar 29, 2019 |
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Mar 29, 2019 01:47
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 Maladine and Luna-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial, Witch Princess Of The Moon Next year, Maladine will begin a tour to meet all the young gods and goddesses. But tonight, tonight there is wine. "Hooowwww..." Maladine slurs. "...howwww does he give me bigger headaches than Dearest Sister?" Luna laughs, and the sound echoes through the Palace of the Moon. The Palace of the Moon is almost as old as the world, older than Maladine. It has high vaulted silver ceilings, inlaid with electrum and amber and rich woods in complex, swirling patterns. Maladine remembers what they look like, and imagines them as she drinks. "Because Kemgoz is innocent, in her own strange way, Emoch knows what he does. He could curdle a pot of milk if he walked past, such is the foulness of his nature." Luna says, tipping back only her third glass compared to Maladine's seventh bottle. They lay together on a long, wide divan. A heron flies in with Maladine's eighth bottle. She takes it with thanks, the heron bows low, and flies off again. "Ooohhh you know how I am. I c-can't believe-eve there isn't something in there to be saved evennn ifff..." She squeezes Luna's hand. Always so cool, always so smooth.Then a swig of wine, the laughter tickles her mouth and leaves her feeling just a little lighter. "...evennn iffff we've done bad things to one a-another." Luna's fingers rest against her cheek. Maladine knows she's looking into her eye sockets. She wishes she could look back, see the flowing wheat-gold hair and her beautiful crown, or the way her eyes softened with her and her alone. A kiss. "And that is why I love you, even if I don't understand how you can feel that way." Maladine drinks down the eighth, and then curls up against Luna. She pelts Maladine's scalp in kisses, and watches as her eyelids slide over the red gemstones that fill her eye sockets. Eventually, Maladine succumbs to sleep and Luna cannot bear to wake her, so she only has a heron bring them a blanket as she sits there stroking her bright red curls. --- OOC: No rolled action as Maladine already completed her goals for the turn. Instead she will embark on the Hearts and Minds tour we discussed, meeting and spending time with various deities of the world with a special focus on newborns.
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Apr 7, 2019 02:31
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine flops down on her favorite divan in her work-palace, and tears the skin from her body. A great mass of night-sky fills it, and she lets out a long sigh. Constant visits. Ports, high temples, great fortresses, secluded glades and mountain grottos. The whole trip starts to blur together again in her head, but at least it worked. It reminded all the gods and goddesses who they owed for their peace and prosperity, gave the little ones someone to ask for help. It was as much a trip of minor troubleshooting as anything else. Relationships, issues with followers, confusion and fear. A tendril of night grabs a bottle of starwine from a nearby basket (provided by her lovely guardians) and swallows it whole. Two goddesses had paid particular attention to her, Emoch's new little daughter - She-Who-Rewards, her heart was iron and cold. But that was her weakness too, Emoch's ego meant all spirits and gods in his image thought like him - such as Luna. And without their years of bickering and bad blood it was a simple matter to harness that understanding. All it took was a little flattery, some pretty conversation, and She-Who-Rewards understood their relationship perfectly. Favors of kindness in trade for help enforcing the peace, long-term. A simple, harmonious relationship. And then there was Lacerna. Poor little cuckoo bird. Maladine knew what she was going through. That feeling of being torn between two ideals of you it was...it was never easy. Maladine can still feel it in the back of her mind, here and now. A fishhook lodged in her consciousness. Whispers to a ghost she hasn't been since...since...The Second Age plays across her mind again, like an old wound. She winces. Maladine pushes the pain away, back into a corner where it belongs. All Lacerna needed was a little warmth, a little guidance. Another bottle. The memories won't stop replaying. She remembers the last thing she ever saw - the Maw of Serpents, the darkness flying towards her face. And then, pain. Her sister screaming. Luna's hands, her tears against her face. Maladine remembers one of Dearest Sister's favorite songs, something silly about a lost corvain looking for their clan. It was a sweet little song about finding home again, the sort of thing Dearest Sister used to love. Maladine sighs, and all the stars that form her body sigh too. There was still one trip she had to make, one goddess she had to see. The one she had failed the most.
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Apr 23, 2019 17:11
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine sighs. There was nothing for it. Best to power through it. Maybe today Dearest Sister would be a little more clear-headed, sometimes she was...those moments were tantalizing. They proved she was still in there, deep down inside. Maladine would save her, it was a promise she made a long time ago. It was a promise she would keep. One last drink of starwine. There is a temple, a ruined, squalid thing in an ugly bog. It squats on the landscape like a pimple, boiling with pus and disease. Outside it, threads surge down from the nightsky, weaving Maladine's mask. The swamp lights flicker around her. Maladine can feel the shift in the air, she knows she's here. "Sister, my Dearest Sister, little Starlight." Maladine says sweetly. She knows Kem is listening. She knows she doesn't have to raise her voice. "I've come to see you again, how are you doing?"
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Apr 23, 2019 19:23
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Dearest Sister, what are you saying? What's happening?" Maladine cocks her head. A Guardian disappears in a burst of starfire. "Is the pain worse than usual?" The Guardian appears again, leans in to whisper. "WHAT?!" Maladine bellows. The Celestial itself quakes, like a cabinet of fine china. She whispers quickly to the little Guardian and dispatches it again. "I don't know why this is happening Sister and I'm here for you right here and right now. We're going to figure this out." Maladine says in one breath. She knew Sister wasn't herself in these moments, but she wasn't going to let herself run from her at the time she needed her the most. ---- A Celestial Guardian appears next to Jorm in a burst of starfire. Maladine's voice rings out from it. "You need to explain what is going on now! I'm with Sister and if you don't stop this second she's going to go on a rampage!"
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Apr 24, 2019 17:47
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "You're still good! You panicked in a difficult situation! Let me help you!" The Guardian shouts for Maladine. --- "We can stop this Sister you have to believe me! Please believe me! I know you're in there!"
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Apr 24, 2019 18:02
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "I'm not a paladin, anymore. I haven't been for an Age. And you're not the world-eater anymore. I can hear the fear in your voice. I know how you feel about me." The Guardian pauses. "I feel the same way about you." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 18:48 on Apr 24, 2019 |
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Apr 24, 2019 18:45
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Listen to yourself, Raindrop. You're building yourself a house of misery over one mistake. We can fix this. We can make this better, together. I won't stand by idly and let you throw away all the time we've spent together." The Guardian leans in close. "Do you remember the first time you swam away from me, embarrassed and confused by my flirting? I knew how you felt then, and I knew how I felt then. I only didn't tell you because I didn't know if you were ready to hear it, but you need to hear it now. That you are wonderful, that you are worth loving, and that this is one mistake you have to forgive yourself for making."
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Apr 24, 2019 18:58
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "I need both of you to be strong, for me. For yourselves. I love both of you, together. The whole of you." The Guardian says, barely above a whisper. "You are both so brave, and you are both stronger together. Please, listen to me. I'll be there soon. We can fix all of this."
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Apr 24, 2019 19:17
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial She has to do something, now. Jorm was writhing in pain, and Dearest Sister was little better. And this would never get better, she suffered for a whole age. An eternity. There would be a chain of these disasters as long as she was like this and...Maladine drags itself to a natural conclusion. She laughs. She cackles. The goddess of madness can hear something like cracking china, like a birdsong choked in a cat's mouth. What a failure she was, what was all her planning, all her designs for if they could all be destroyed by one mistake? More laughter. She falls to her knees, into the muck. The Guardian tries to offer her a glass of starwine, she throws it away. It cowers behind a ruined stump. "Oh Sister! You were right! About everything!" Maladine falls on her side, laughter and tears intermingling. The sound is deafening to the goddess before her. No, there was still one way out. Still one path. She could save everyone, everyone. All it would cost is her soul. The laughter slows, but the tears stay. Maladine listens to the mass of darkness, the wailing, shattered soul of her sister. "YOU! I SPEAK TO YOU! NOT THE SISTER YOU HOLD HOSTAGE!" She screams. Maladine rises on shaky knees. "I SPEAK TO YOU, DARKNESS! ALL YOUR VOICES!" A step forward, towards all the hatred and whispering. "YOU HAVE EATEN NOTHING BUT SLOP! LIVED IN A PRISON THAT HATES YOU! THAT HOLDS YOU BACK!" She clutches at the ragged edges of the Dark. "I OFFER MYSELF AS A WILLING VESSEL FOR YOU! WITH ME YOU WILL FEAST ON THINGS YOU COULD NEVER IMAGINE! ALL I ASK IS YOU SPARE MY SISTER!"
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Apr 24, 2019 20:40
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "A war? Mass starvation? How banal. How EASY!" Maladine laughs. "Have you ever dined on the slow-dawning terror of a mortal realizing everything they ever believed is a lie? The silent desolation of a broken marriage!? The dying dreams of a lost cause?!" Maladine grips the beast tighter. "I know all these tastes and more. None of the others know the darkness of the soul the way I do, You know that! YOU KNOW THAT BECAUSE YOU INFLICTED IT ON ME!" Something drips from the edge of her mouth. A memory, the bitterest memory she can think of - knowing she put her sister through all this pain for her failure. The Dark cannot resist the urge to reach out and take it. "DRINK AND KNOW WHAT REAL SUFFERING TASTES LIKE!"
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Apr 24, 2019 21:04
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial The whole world can feel it. Hope flickers, the dream of justice is a little less enticing. A shadow, born of disease and poison and hatred, crawls across the ground. Maladine smiles sadly at her sister. "Dearest Sister, little starlight. I love yo-" It surges towards her. It's inside her, around her. Maladine falls to the ground again, screaming. Everything burns. But Sister needs her, one last time. One last time. She grits her teeth, and Kemgoz can see her dig her fingers into her chest as squirming tendrils of darkness push their way through every pore of her body, into her eyesockets and into her mouth. She reaches deep inside, past the lies and the false darkness forged by Luna to be her new form and... crack The fingers dig into something white and pure, something the Dark wants whole and intact. Her heart. crack It tears, like wet paper, like a dream, like banner. "SISTER YOU HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THE CELE-" The tendrils overwhelm her. She can't speak, the most she can do is throw it at her weak little sister. Deep inside her, she can hear a new voice, and Kem can see the tendrils wrap around what's left of Maladine's heart. Maladine closes her eyes for one last time.
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Apr 25, 2019 02:22
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 Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Blackness takes her, she dreams. Not of stars or gods or even mortals, but a vast sea of nothing. Colors that cannot be, dreams and words and thoughts never meant to fit into the schema of reality. Her mind swims through them, drinking, changing, warping with the currents. Each has a different story, a different pain. They are everything that never could be, never will be, full of hollow noise. They ring in her mind too. She understands. How foolish to think this could be killed. It is like thinking you could put a knife to the throat of zero. --- Kaladine opens her eyes. She blinks. Once. Twice. Laughter rings out across the bog, shakes in every infected pustule and paranoid dream. A mass of tentacles, writhing, squelching, singing in broken voices, pulls itself up. They shake, shiver, and finally bloom, revealing her again. She could still sense Dearest Sister, where did she go? No time, a certain impertinent serpent had to be stopped. Kaladine's mind swirls, boils, hisses. The Dark whispers, some want murder, some want torture, some want simple drama. She chuckles. "No, let me handle this. I have a plan." She says inside the sea of herself, in the same stern matronly voice she'd used to scold a lesser goddess. They bicker for a second longer, and then fall silent. She smiles. --- The shores of a distant land, a great sea-serpent can smell something - like rotting flesh and old tears. A well of darkness erupts on the shore near her, and black tentacles with purple rings erupt from it. Out of them steps a goddess in a long purple robe, wearing a witch's hat that ends in a dangling tentacle, facing away from the serpent. She is vaguely familiar...something in the motion, the easy grace. "And who would attack those that serve me? The Sommelier of Sorrow, the Mistress of Misery, the Witch-Empress of the Wicked, the exalted evil that is Kaladine-Aeo'na?" She turns to the serpent, revealing two cephalod's eyes, and a face that once belonged to a goddess named something else. "Oh? The World-Eater herself? Surely this is a mistake." She scowls at the towering serpent as if it were a misbehaving child. "Surrender now, and I may show some modicum of mercy." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 04:01 on Apr 27, 2019 |
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Apr 26, 2019 23:38
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked "Have your many eyes failed you, World-Eater? That is a name I have shed, as you shed a ragged skin. I have saved my Sister, and bathed in the grace of the Dark. My name is Kaladine-Aeo'na, and you would do well to remember that." She smirks at the great creature, her pupils bend into crescents. She drinks in the colors of Jorm's wonderful coils. "And I must say, you are even more breath-taking than I could have imagined." The smirk fades back into the scowl. "But that is not why we are here. You have made war upon those who serve the banner of evil, my The tentacle on the edge of her hat curls and twitches. Kaladine can feel all the sounds instead her listening. She had one chance to impress them, to show them her guidance was everything she promised. "But I am yet still a being of some minor mercy. Clearly you have struck me and mine in confusion. Is that not so?" The purple-black sludge around the frayed edges of her robe twitches, shapes move beneath the surface. The serpent can almost see eyes swirling in the mass.
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Apr 27, 2019 08:49
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine looks down at the rotting mass. Outside, she wears a sad smile. Inside, she is a thousand grinning mouths. Poor little Irri. Just as she had hoped, the chain she would slip around the Serpent's neck. "Irri, my love, I warn you this will not end the way you think it will." She turns over the wrist in the weak goddess's hand. Two tentacles appear from its sleeve. They tear open the skin, revealing a horrid purple-black tar that bubbles in the air. The little goddess does not hesitate for a moment. "Thank you, I'm sorry." She says, and then shoves her mouth into the wound. Irri tastes bile, rotting flesh. In her ears there is screaming. A great and terrible sound. And a moment too late, she realizes her mistake. Kaladine wraps her other arm around the ruins of the little goddess and strokes her ragged seaweed hair. "Shhh...shhh little Raindrop. It'll be over soon. You'll feel all better."
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Apr 27, 2019 09:19
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked “Yes, yes you are. And I love you. The whole of you.” Kaladine leans forward and kisses Jormgozir. It is a fierce kiss, a hungry thing wrapped up in all their history and shared pain. She leaves her head bowed against her after. “Now, we should leave this place. I’m very tired, and I’m sure you would like to rest as well.”
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Apr 27, 2019 10:31
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked The Dark squeals with delight as her lips pull away, scarred and bloodied by her encounter with Jormgozir's jaws. Control, misery, and pain, all through the sweetest of emotions. It is a taste so new to them they nearly pass out with delight. Kaladine smiles. "Go then, my love. Feed. Let me know when you want to spend more time together. Know that I am always here for you." Her hands brush across the fangs as Jormgozir turns. She watches the coils, covered in eyes and scars, dissolve under the waves. Perfect. After she leaves, Kaladine walks along the shore and ponders. She can feel the cracks in her identity, they are fine, like the hair of a child in the grips of a consumption, and threaded deep through her --- In the high ceilings above the Vault, there is a smear of oil. It spreads. It grows. It blooms with cephalopod eyes, tentacles follow, grasping and hungry and desperate.The mass drips upon the cavern floor, and Kaladine rises from it. The smear on the ceiling disappears, and a throne of octopode arms rises from the muck below Kaladine. She sits upon it and crosses her legs. A bottle of distilled agony appears upon an arm of the throne. She pours herself a glass and inhales the bouquet before taking a sip (what a delightfully dry taste!) and calling out to her old foe. "Worldshaper! I, the most exalted evil upon Wax, request an audience with your magnificence!"
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Apr 27, 2019 18:21
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine chuckles. "I recognize the name you once called this body, but I am Kaladine-Aeo'na. She who bathed in the Dark so I might cleanse myself of my mistakes." She stops to take a sip and lounge against her throne. "I bear much of her mind, and half of her heart but I am a different being. There are no childish pretenses, no delusions that my will serves anyone else." Kaladine swirls her glass, and watches the gemstones of the Vault reflect against it's glass. "And I come to you with a proposal. I can smell your works, they are drenched in the sin that I am born of. You seek to fire the Soul in the flames of darkness, do you not?"
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Apr 27, 2019 18:51
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine smirks. "It is good to know that we may begin things on a proper footing, Worldshaper." She shakes her head. "No, I do not. You may keep those drenched in darkness as your own, for they do not serve my purpose. I seek a different quarry. One I believe would be an inferior material for your forge - those swaddled in complex pain. They are the ones that would I consume for sustenance." She snaps her fingers, and tentacles rise up to offer her a foot stool. Kaladine steps down upon the cave floor. "I would seek to create a mental illness that would drag the ones I seek to my arms, souls filled with the pain I need but..." She clicks her tongue. "...among the memories this body lost in its transformation into me are the depths of it's knowledge of the soul. I can work the darkness inside it, but I cannot work the soul itself. I remember pieces, but not the whole." She paces back and forth, watching Emoch's motions with her strangely bending eyes, and takes furtive sips of her drink. "So, I must relearn the arts this mind has forgotten, those you seek to learn yourself. I would pool our knowledge on these matters, and in trade...my creation would drag the souls of purest darkness you seek to your forge. Is this agreeable to you, Worldshaper?" The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 19:26 on Apr 27, 2019 |
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Apr 27, 2019 19:24
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine grins, tentacles appear from her robe sleeves bearing a heavy book whose pages drip with purple-black ink. They drop it on a table near the Worldshaper. "Then we are agreed, you will find what I know in the pages of that book. I have plans to add knowledge to it, it will update itself when it is closed. You may write what you wish yourself in the empty pages, and I will know what they contain." When the Glaive is mentioned, Kaladine cocks her head. The tentacle on the end of her hat twitches idly. "No, as much as I might like to know such an artifact is accounted for I have other priorities. If you should find it, it is yours by right."
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Apr 27, 2019 19:56
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked All in motion. All under control. Kaladine's hat-tentacle bounces gleefully as Emoch stomps back into his Vault. There was still the matter of the bird, a new stain cast in her old She reaches deep into the Dark, towards the strings in the Darkness of all mortals minds. The others didn't understand how deep the Dark had woven into itself into the world. It was an invisible empire, beneath all the gods petty works. This was real power, so much more than she ever had before. She plucks one, a corvain in a small village will murder their clan for no discernible reason. When the others finally slay them, purple-black ooze will drip from their broken beak. Kaladine will follow the rage inside them to learn where the rage lies in all souls. Another. A Tshiki in a Baatheloran metropolis will scrawl runes on the side of a slouching old manor. All who seem them will laugh and cry, humans will tear out their hair, Tshiki will carve them into their chitin so they might show them to others, the laughter travels across the entire noble district - and passes just as quickly. Kaladine studies each echo with a smile on her face. And on a Wayfarer ship, the cook will pour rat poison over the salted meat, and then serve it to xir crewmates with a smile. Eight days later the ship will run aground, filled with corpses. The starvation was a fascinating lesson. All of it is scrawled across the pages in the book she shares with Emoch. All of it is neatly filed away. Everything is in motion. Everything is under control. --- OOC: As we discussed Kaladine is using Gift, Disease, and Mental Illness to map out the Soul and share her information with Emoch. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 21:28 on Apr 27, 2019 |
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Apr 27, 2019 21:02
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 Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked and Ixhisitl Goddess of the Sun, The Redeemer Ixhisitl is so proud of them, her first priests and priestesses. They’ve been purified, perfected. Each is a reflection of her will, as resplendent as the sun itself. She moves between them, arrayed in line in her first temple upon the slopes of Treasure Mountain - nestled in montane wilderness that smells of blood and sweat and stone. A place perfect for sharpening the soul. The torch light flickers for a moment, and she smells something strange. Rot, decay. Her. Ixhistl moves from priest to priest, staring into their souls, listening to the sounds they make. She settles on the shoulder of a young woman - with blonde, hay-hair and cool honey-amber eyes. She listens, so close. Her heartbeat, her blood, her soul. A hitch. She begins to cough. The bird leaps from her shoulder. She coughs again, grasping at her throat. The stench thickens, and all the clergy near her take a step back. Something black and ichorous drips from her mouth. Another cough, it carries finality. Her lips try to form into apologies, they fail. She buckles, to her knees. More blackness pours from her mouth. The priests flee from the temple, screaming and crying. There is the sound of something cracking, moving in flesh, a sound deep in her body. Crunching. A tentacle bursts from her chest, flailing and grasping. It wraps around her neck and squeezes, others flow through, and begin to tear the wound open ever more. Darkness spills unto the temple floor, hissing and biting and full of eyes and teeth. A manicured hand with purple nails rises from the pool, the other. Kaladine comes from the muck with grace befitting an empress. “Greetings, Redeemer.” She says, voice crisp and sharp and deep. “It is not The woman’s body falls to the ground with a sickening thud, spent. It shrivels like a shed skin. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 06:08 on Jun 1, 2019 |
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May 7, 2019 23:49
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked "It was the only way in, as you had barred the door against such a glorious presence as my own." Kaladine bows low, the silver in the sleeves of her robe shines in the torchlight. It reveals patterns of slowly writhing tentacles. For a mortal mind to look upon them would invite madness, and far worse things. "And I offer my apologies, most sincerely. I had merely come to see if the stories of your radiance were true." She smirks. "It is good to see that they are." Kaladine does not hide her eyes moving over the bird's form, bending into U-shapes to take in all the colors she wears. "And also to remind you if you should find the burden of godhood onerous, I am ever at your service."
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May 8, 2019 03:20
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked "You act as if it is difficult to replace a single mortal." Kaladine summons her throne with a snap of the fingers, tentacles rise from the muck below to form it. She crosses her legs and leans against the side, smirk still dancing in the firelight. "I spoke the truth, your Radiance. I came to observe your handsomeness..." A platter of sliced purple and black meats appears on the arm of her throne, they whisper and shine. She plucks one with a silver needle and slides it in her mouth, then lets out a satisfied sigh. "Oh the romantic jealousy lately is to die for I tell you." Another, she pops in her mouth while never breaking eye contact with the quetzal. "Those tail feathers of yours, pure majesty. The stories do not do you justice." Before the compliment can sink in she sits up. "Oh, there was something else I wanted to tell you. Terribly sorry, handsome women do awful things to my memory." Kaladine stretches, her whole body squelches as the thousands of tentacles that hide behind the mask unkink. "My Dearest Brother will be along, he believes you have infringed upon his realms. Though he might wear a polite face I know him, he is aggrieved."
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May 8, 2019 22:30
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine laughs. "He is as he made himself, and the only brother I have ever had. Fire is his greatest work." She cocks her head, a tentacle cradles her chin. Another raises another needleful of flesh to her mouth. She takes it without a thought. "No, that's not quite correct. His greatest work is how he makes people remember the flame. He calls it 'branding'. In the past light was subordinate to fire, and so he was the Lightbringer. Your very existence upends that work, and annoys his deeply codified worldview." Kaladine chuckles, as if she heard a joke. "In a sense he's more set in his ways than even the Worldshaper." Even as his title rolls from her mouth, she can hear his pen scratch across the pages of her book. More information she needed, the next pieces of her plan fall into place. "This, Your Radiance, was a most pleasant visit but I have work to do with the Master Smith." Her throne retreats back into the puddle, a stray tentacle drags the woman's corpse back in with it. "But one last piece of advice, my Brother always strives to create 'added value' for himself in every transaction. Ask yourself when he is creating value, and you will find you understand him far better." Kaladine bows again, her tentacle-hat is almost twisted into a grin. "Now then, Your Radiance, I must be off." The Dark rises to envelop her, and a moment later falls back to the floor. It drains through the temple floor cracks, leaving not even a stain.
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May 9, 2019 02:27
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked The Witch-Empress listens, listens to the creaking, crying barrels of agony-wine in her new work-palace. Perhaps work-palace is the wrong term. It is a state of mind, it is a place that only exists in the hour of the wolf. A time when all decisions slouch towards their makers with drool on their lips and hatred in their hollow hearts. And as they dream it weaves itself, filled with confusion and dread and the complex aromas of ennui. What those followers did not understand is what traveled back across the weave, into cities and hamlets and ships on the high sea alike. It creeps in, during the hour of the wolf, an unbidden and unwanted guest. It is a state of mind, an idea. For her followers blessed enough, the hour of the wolf might never end again. The barrels creak, and Kaladine can feel the dark smiling inside herself. They would drink well. --- OOC: As discussed I am creating The Hour Of The Wolf - Hell as a transmissible mental illness using Gift, Disease, and Mental Illness that activates only in the proper hosts (profoundly evil and/or tastily textured souls) causing depression, anxiety, and urge to discuss them. When active cases die it delivers them to Kaladine and Emoch. This first batch is non-transmissible, but the large-scale deployment will use discussion of negative emotions as a transmission vector.
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May 18, 2019 07:09
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Kaladine and Luna-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked, Witch-Princess Of The Moon The moon is a silver majesty, a twirling silent world of light and tranquility. Ash-herons stalk across the surface, plucking the souls of future royals from the soil to be carried down to Wax itself. On the far side, the quetzal finds a great palace cast of electrum, held up with pillars of fine wood. It creaks in the thin atmosphere, almost a greeting. The entryway is like the swooping beak of a heron, filled with great works of Luna and the goddess Kaladine once was. The armor she once wore hangs at the very end, almost like a threat. Next to it stands a nervous blue-green heron wearing a cravat of woven silver. It bows deeply to Ixhisitl, displaying the night sky painted in it's feathers. "Most Exalted Sunbeam, I am terribly sorry but Luna-Aeo'na is taking no visitors today. She is most busy with wor-." Distantly, Ixhisitl can hear laughter and smell her. She can just barely hear a familiar voice. "Oh my darling, my beloved moonlight, your beauty only grows with the centuries." There is another peal of laughter. The heron winces. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 00:07 on May 19, 2019 |
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May 19, 2019 00:04
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked It is a summer evening, in the rolling countryside where Forex's beloved cottage sits. The sky is pink, orange, powder blue. On the wind there is the smell of apples, mixed with cinnamon and hay. Crickets sing to one another. And on this evening, Forex sits in his cottage and balances his books - a ghostgrass cigarllo letting coils of smoke into the evening light, they dance in the breeze that stirs through an open window. He is deep in a subcolumn detailing cotton options when he senses it. The cigarillo smoke trembles. All the colors of the sky shift, becoming the palette of death and necrosis. In the rotting red sun, there is a smell, a moment. The sensation of letting go. There is a knock at his door. He opens it to find his eldest sister before him. She wears the same smile from her last visit, twisted just a little sharper to give it a cruel, smug cast. "Hello again, Dearest Brother." She looks at him, for the first time since the end of the Second Age. "You changed your beard, may I come in?"
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Jun 4, 2019 15:52
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Earlier, or perhaps later. Time is not reliable around entities such as these. In the forever-dark of the hadopelagic, under thousands of years of ruined ships compacted into something like sandstone and skeletons picked over by morays, there is a monster. The monster sleeps. It dreams, it's dreams are like the forever-dark - filled with motion beyond language and light eyes from other depths could never understand. The forever-dark, within and without, ripples. There is a rush of cold water, and the smell of rotting meat, a feast that drags one of the monsters minds towards wakefulness. It drags the next, and the next. All three open shared eyes. A tentacle gently strokes their slimy hide. Oh Raindrop... Familiar sing-song. Tentacles, heavy with rot and a disease, stroke the monster's jaw. There is a giggle in the darkness. Hello again. It's good to see you. There is a shape in the forever-dark. Mortal minds would shatter like stained glass at the sight. Deities would weep and fall to their knees only to pass into sweet oblivion, when they awoke they would not remember what they tried to fit into their eye sockets. But to Jormgozir, it was merely the face of her beloved. Getting some beauty sleep, are we?
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Jun 5, 2019 01:51
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked My love, I could fit through a keyhole if it was the only way to your side. She giggles through her rancid beak. I am an octopus, afterall. I can get so many places. Dozens of eyes wink at the eel-serpent. Tentacles pull her rotten flesh closer to the monster. She alone knows she is safe here, in this moment. It is the kind of power Kaladine craves. I've come because things have gotten terribly bad up there. The sun is an impudent little goddess who thinks herself wise enough to step into the role I abandoned. Kaladine laughs, it is a rich hearty sound. The caves shake and eel attendants flit into the dark. You can feel it, can't you? The poison she poured into the sun. It's strangling all the life with it's toxic radiance... She waits a beat, for the implication to sink in. ...all your precious food. The tentacles curl against Jormgozir's gills, trace the shape of her head fins. And I wouldn't want my beloved to starve, never ever. So I came to warn you, and ask you to help hide the world from the toxic sun with your wonderfully hideous Stormheart. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 05:17 on Jun 5, 2019 |
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Jun 5, 2019 05:13
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