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Post by Henley on Apr 2, 2022 18:51:54 GMT -8
Hearing the whole picture for the first time was interesting. The Freeholders had clearly been busy, working different angles of the problem and facing different dangers and difficulties. There were wounded present - Aster got a look of sympathy - and clearly some folks here had been through the wringer. Still, there was a lot to celebrate. As silent attaboys came his way here and there for his parts in all this, he grinned and gave humble nods in reply like he wasn't singing the Top Gun Anthem in his head. A debt being owed to Carr earned a raised eyebrow, and Henley glanced to Yuan to make a mental note about that for later.
More important to him right this second was piecing together the politics. Different actors were working different angles, and Henley's mind for politics was working overtime as he observed the interactions between the different officers and Monarchs to assess power dynamics.
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Post by Tanner on Apr 5, 2022 23:12:06 GMT -8
The Emerald Queen offered a soft smile to Croupier, though had no context to where his panic might be coming from. As Yuan piped up she exchanged a Look with the Winter King, who briefly glanced at Blaze, but currently said nothing on the matter. The Summer Queen showed no praise or pride for Aster's rebuttal, but neither did she override or dismiss the serpent's wishes to carry the experience — she was stable and had been given the choice, and some Spears would suffer for taking away the pain.
Gavin noted that Icarus was under an abnormal amount of stress, where the trigger was connected to the conversation around the supposed Spring founder. He did recall that the Knight had strong connections with the Antler Crown, and was a former courtier at least as long as a decade ago. The Fall King also seemed to hold a special amount of disdain for His Magistrate, and preferred to keep their professional relationship balanced in such a manner where the Fairest would help His court, but also never get too excited about his accomplishments. The grudge was potent, Not-Fawkes seemed to be taking a small amount of giddiness from watching the Knight squirm, reminding the Autumn Beast of an animal playing with its catch. It would appear that this treatment had landed over the years, and Icarus was thoroughly convinced in the volatility of just how useful he is when failure on what was important was is right around the corner — well, that certainly explained the potent Mantle. Uriel's eyes were quite literally burning as Baron Samedi shut down the budding interrogation, where her interest had lasered onto the fact that Tanner had killed a mundie for an experiment. How and why was important, and the obvious rush to protect the Page from judgement didn't sit right with the Court focused on protecting society against the actions of Faerie. She didn't glare at Golden Boy either, which was telling that she had already written the boy-king off as favouring his motleymate. She would likely lean on Solomon to dig into it, and pester Icarus. The final evocation of the ritual swept emotional cues aside as Gavin's curiosity surged to the forefront, tracking every small detail and gesture to put together the story. The Echo Chamber was an underground cavern where the roots of a world tree fed into the collective mind, turned into an interactive symbol by the Hedge of a universal medium of clairvoyance and transition to the unconsciousness. Making contact with the basin appeared to quite literally root the Witness into the magical neural pathways of recorded memory, which it dawned on Gavin why having an eidetic memory would be essential to not losing yourself to potentially thousands of individual experiences. Chunhua apparently had the ability to cut the connection to the network without causing the problems Dawncatcher had been assaulted with.
The deeper you had to dive, the deadlier the pressure, and the longer it took to come back up for air.
Henley noted the tension between the Fall King and the Magistrate of Nightmares — one of ancient Ogre contempt of some unforgivable slight, that Icarus had no intention of fighting against. He seemed quite beaten down over whatever had transpired, and yet Samedi kept him employed. Maybe there was more to installing a Fairest closer to Arcadia in an office that demanded he be responsible for Autumns Behaving Badly. The attention of Uriel didn't seem to help, where a woman usually by the book and respecting the chain of command to the point where it could be a little frustrating looked intent to step right over Icarus and interrogate an Autumn official directly. The older members of the Freehold appear to have a lot of internalized fear or resentment, or maybe regret around Lamassu, and the potential of their presence is provoking concern and confusion; all while avoiding looking to Saturday for His reaction — the Spring founder must have left a very lasting impression, and held a lot of influence over the courts even from beyond the grave. It was watching a bunch of powerful, middle aged Lost regress before his eyes, before they had crowns and titles. The last interesting tidbit was that Golden Boy didn't seem to be settling into his throne well, largely passive from the rebellious reputation he held, and clearly Sedna was there as an anchor for emotional support; he seemed happy to let people go off to corners to manicure their reports, rather than drag out the facts lest the Freehold bicker. It certainly had cost Face with Uriel, which didn't bode well after Imbolc's disaster in forming brand new court relationship after Nohoilpi.
Golden's public mask was down for a moment as he fearfully glanced from Tanner to Cinder. Uriel was paying attention and asked what the Sun's Tongue's take was on this information.
"With the Twilit Page mentioning the destruction of the mortal's Bastion, and looking at the names being connected to the Fae... it sounds like we'd have to- put... cold iron in everyone's dreams?" As she spoke aloud, she clearly was struggling to put on a brave face for the impossible task.
"Just blood. Ichor and the curse of Arae from Greek mythos, or the first murder in Genesis- Uncegila's demise from Lakota. But it'd come from those It's nesting in," Golden corrected, staring ahead. Chunhua was listening, rolling up Tanner's sleeves to find signs that he had bled in the mortal's Bastion. Uriel's eyes went from Cinder's blanching face to the Autumn King.
"...How much?"
"Enough to drench the Title."
"A lot."
The entity wearing Fawkes' face seemed unfocused for a moment, lips moving silently as their Mantle swirled in maddening patterns that infected reality. A smile started to stretch, but they kept it to themselves.
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Post by Henley on Apr 5, 2022 23:51:22 GMT -8
Oh, was that it? A ghost of Christmas Past came back and suddenly everyone time-travelled to their weaker versions of themselves? Nate glanced over at Yuan and Gavin, running the math as the answer to destroying his True Fae became clear.
Sacrifice of helpless pawns, the prey of a True Fae as innocent as any other. If that was how things were allowed to be portrayed, this was going to be a shit-show for Spring and undermine Philicia. No, that couldn't be how this played out. He glanced at Uriel, watching the Summer Queen for a moment as he tried to find a way to split the difference politically.
Destruction of the enemy army. They didn't have a choice. These were foot soldiers of an enemy that was a mass murdering maniac, and they had to be destroyed. They'd be servants of the Fae's will within the Wards as long as the war went on. The setting, however, was where things went down.
"If I may --"
The Spring Courtier stepped forward.
"We've experienced this hapless army's sheer violence firsthand. It took everything we had to keep Tanner alive, to escape the Enemy's web. It isn't their fault their bodies are controlled by a psychotic child-Godling on a rampage, just the same as it isn't the child Huntsman's fault she's been turned into a monster. That's the insidious nature of the Lantern. There's no plan. It just takes whatever is available, whatever is innocent, and turns it into a pawn that it will throw in a human wave at what it wants. That's the future of this war. The Wards might stop the Huntsmen, but... those people dying in droves as they fight the police, the students, the Lost. There are as many of them as the Friar's Lantern needs. The whole city, if need be. As many as it takes. As many as it can infect. It won't stop. It's a virus. They don't have a choice, but that won't stop them from killing whatever it wants dead."
He looked sick at the idea.
"If that's the army that we have to face to destroy the Elysian Fields, if blood must be spilled, let's spill it once, spill it right. Minimize the death, end the suffering with one tactical blow. Choose the battlefield, bind and summon the Gentry -- and fight for our lives at a location of our choosing so that not a drop is wasted. We know what it wants. It wants Tanner, but he's got to be done running. There's only so much we can ask of him."
That was when the Nymph's tone turned hopeful.
"But there is someone we can ask. We have the fastest man in the world - who can look like whatever an enemy wants most. A hero who they'll never catch -- Buck Chasseur. The Golden Standard-bearer. A hero to lead them to where the battle must be fought. Some of those poor souls will fall -- it's an inevitability -- but would it work? If we spilled just enough blood to destroy it..."
That last question was aimed directly at King Saturday and Queen Uriel.
"Would it work? Could we pull this off from a military standpoint? Would the rest be free of the Fields' infection when it was destroyed? If we won this war, would they be free to live their lives as they wanted?"
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Hua Yuan
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Presence 2 - Nostalgic; SL 1 - Flawless
Posts: 304
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Post by Hua Yuan on Apr 6, 2022 12:28:19 GMT -8
It was very hard to to eyeroll over Aster's reply. Still, she was one of the few Summers who hadn't begged him for healing.
The Playmate was almost vibrating, with pride for Henley or excitement over what he was proposing. He watched as Philicia shared a moment with Golden and Blaze, happy that his court was slowly recovering its standing. His eyes then drifted to Cinderella and sadness settled in the pit of his stomach. He tried to catch her her gaze, but she was being bombarded with questions on all sides. Especially with her motley being neck deep in whatever was happening. Maybe he would be able to talk to her later.
Yuan squinted at the Winter King. Had he always been so demure?
Lastly, the Grimm moved over to Lamassu has whisper-hissed at him. "Can't you see they're bickering? If you have some information, please share it. That's the reason you wanted to come back, no? Besides, I saved your hide from your own motleymate. You owe me."
He smiled as he talked, but something about his features reminded of cartoon felines, Scar and the likes. Poised, charismatic. Dangerous.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Apr 7, 2022 22:45:43 GMT -8
So much blood was on the line. The infected were so many. The will to let it all flow was put to voice by the Siren. He made it seem like it was the way to go.
After so much effort to cut the losses to humanity, Gavin could not settle with Henley's plan without attempting to minimize the bloodshed to only what was required. His memories of case work in Los Angeles welled up. He was reminded of the struggles he went through every day trying to save the derelicts and those abandoned to their fates by most of society. Here these unfortunates were again, a ready sacrifice for the elites to continue as they were. Not if he could help it.
There were so many narrative elements behind the involved Titles and names. Some of which have been proven to have substance enough behind them to cut deep into the godling's power. That seemed to be the key thing the Razorhand had taken away from the events leading up to this meeting. The horrid creatures were bound by the trappings of their own narratives. There had to be some piece that had not been thought of. Some little detail that crossed the boundaries from one aspect of it to the other in a manner that could be of use.
There were running themes among the differing titles The Elysian Field, The Horned God, Will o' the Wisp. The Fae had drawn upon Goetia and the manifestations of demons to enact its curses on the world. The introduction of that aspect said it was drawing upon alternate interpretations of The Elysian Field as introduced by Milton and Dante where it is inferred that Elysium on the shores across Acheron where all the great Greek poets, heroes, and philosophers went upon death. Elysium was paralleled to Limbo and the first layer of Hell therein. Cernunnos, alternately known as the Horned God, is a figure in Celtic myth and is said to have parallels with the Devil as Judeo-Christian religion continued coopting and integrating other cultures' local mythoi. So too was the Will o' the Wisp or The Friar's Lantern. In several tales the ephemeral entity lured and beguiled and was also the Devil.
If the True Fae was bound by the elements of its adopted narratives, then it stood to reason other things that happened in the stories around them would also carry meaning in its world, and hopefully impact. Where there was Elysium, there was Olympus. Where there was the Devil, there was God.
Transubstantiation from biblical sources? Blood rain from the works of great poets? Zeus? The blood of wounded gods: ichor? Iron oxide dust drawn up by wind to intermix with rain droplets? Bleed infected Lost and heal them through the process? Tears of blood? Could the Title be condensed into a small form to make it easier to drench with a smaller volume--the human form of Phenex?
The Beast's mind spun from subject to subject trying to find an option to offer before his fellow drew the Freehold into an epic bloodbath of innocents. If his idea saved even one unnecessary death it would be worth it.
He offered it to the gathered court as soon as it coalesced in his thoughts.
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Post by Fawkes on Apr 9, 2022 10:59:59 GMT -8
Yuan's vision crackled with the Onyx blizzard like so much static, Contract rolling off the Winter King's Wyrd-hardened scales. Lamassu seemed partially engrossed in Henley's speech, attention ticking to the Powers That Be as they measured reactions with the calculation of an older predator. They leaned back slightly as Yuan moved into their bubble to hiss at them.
The Verdant Sphinx blinked, smile curling as the edges of Fawkes' face cracked to accommodate the expression as they flicked Yuan on the nose with a cold porcelain finger. The intoxicating Mantle rolled off of them, injecting playfulness into the Beastial jockeying.
"Boop!"
Chitin popped as the armoured Elemental the entity was puppeting leaned in. "I expected a little more social acumen from you, cousin," they purred in Mandarin to accommodate the formality of their vocabulary, hitting a supernatural pitch that buzzed the air around them in layered reverb. "I will offer what is pertinent to their discussion, or they will indeed assume my intentions are sinister."
The gold peeled off into motes as they repositioned their casual posture to listen to the younger Autumn, articulated joints snapping and clicking as they started etching patterned, spiraling sigils into the dust of the stone table at a mad, mechanical pace.
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Post by Uriel on Apr 9, 2022 12:15:24 GMT -8
Uriel ran a hand to smooth her hair back, the dark spots of her compound eyes flexing as she listened the Spring Ogre pull the sort of inspiring speech she would always struggle with. "Thank you, mister Henley. You said you had a mortal on retention? He is part of the web of Its influence, though his Dream isn't corrupted. If the rival organization were to present the other's target under Desire's glamour, it would attract their presence?" The question was posed to Queen Philicia, who rested her hand in her chin as she pondered...something.
"I like evoking Bedlam! And keeping as few Changelings directly involved with a Keeper as possible. Its true visage will plunge all to behold into Its madness, and we would need a team ready for containment. The more potent their connection to Arcadia, the worse the siren's call. I think we only ask those of a weaker affinity. Artemis' Bane would be pushing it! But, I trust Lancelot to keep things under control. If we have enough of the bloodshed burn the Title, we don't need to involve everyone touched by this. Fate can be twisted to protect certain parties from showing up, and cater the event to a specific demographic."
"Yeah, Cinder and Nate can organize the gathering," Golden Boy piped, levelling his gaze at his former motleymate as the Bright One forced an 'appreciative' grin. It only made sense with their pre-established ties to those involved with the cult. Blaze and Lotus Eater felt the Hunterheart's attention include them as he continued speaking, "Gavin can work with the Magistrate again to design a summoning circle. With our Court ensuring things remain contained. I'm sure Victor's help would be welcome, too." All three Monarchs turned to watch the younger as he started organizing their courtiers without so much as a check-in.
Tanner was reorienting himself, bruised and staring at the ceiling as he held a thumb to his splitting lip. Apparently his human mien had blistered under the titanic weight of the power he had evoked a name written into the fabric of Arcadia. "How do we stop It from splintering? Like before with the Market," he breathed quietly, mostly to himself. The Mantle of Autumn surged, cracking reality around him with the grant of favour.
"Cinderella, as the Emerald Queen politely implied, you will be evoking the Voice of Summer during this gathering," Uriel announced flatly. The Sun's Tongue hiccupped, or maybe she had vomited a little.
"If you wish to step down from the burden of the position, I will do it myself."
The Bright One shook her head, collecting herself as she adjusted her posture.
"You are right. That would ensure a bloodbath," Samedi growled.
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Post by Samedi on Apr 9, 2022 19:33:21 GMT -8
Gavin registers that forcing a summoned, physical form would need concentric faerie rings of binding ritual to nail down the minor aspects of the Title. However, even it did dissipate it would be nowhere near as powerful as the entity they currently faced. Naming its minor aspects would summon its minor aspects, and not the full Title. No one would have the perfect mind trained enough to contain every aspect of inspired imagination when gazing upon the visage of primordial chaos, and to hope to control its appearance is a fool's errand — especially with so many to witness. Unless they were all dead to the world upon its manifestation, but that would require ridiculous timing and ritualized sacrifice to obtain the amount of symbolic vitae to blight the very land-made-flesh. Actually, Gavin had an inkling that extraction after expiry of the vital spark would render the blood without the presence of a god — a braindead patient did not Dream. In short, controlling its shape and expression would require controlling the Fae itself, and speaking It's True Name to express these series of orders, and hope the eldritch mind of a thoughtless joy would register such things in a predictable manner. The only reason they could even do this was because hopefully the shattered witches of their monarchy could somehow imbue the chaotic sounds he had just heard into accurate, arcane instruction. You know — because they were crazy enough to lockstep with this kind of thing.
Saturday was implying that coating the arena would manage this flaw, with the full expectation of trickery.
It wasn't a sure thing.
"We won't need all of them," Baron Samedi confirmed with Philicia. "As long as it is enough. Which we will not know until the time comes. We do not even need them to die. But cracking the back of fate on our anvil to shape it to our needs would demand retribution in ways I do not wish to ponder. The Wyrd will take its due. Or the Gentry will simply sense the world moving to the whims of little faeries. Nobility do not take kindly to uprising..."
"It'll gain allies."
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Post by Gavin Graves on Apr 10, 2022 19:06:52 GMT -8
Gavin nodded with his monarch's warning.
"Containing all possible imagined forms for this thing is going to be a near impossibility without extreme fate tuning. Compelling the Title to take any particular form even using its Name would be leaving the whole effort--requiring near perfection on our part--to chance landing in our favour. The witches aren't bound to help us. Unless one of us is capable of coherently communicating further instructions using its Name to compel it, we can't rely on definitively controlling it. We would instead need to limit its options or adapt our plan to its slippery existence."
"We can focus our ritual on containing the most prominent fragments of this thing's identities and pin them down--and catch whatever else we can within our resources' reach--then spread the word that its last vestiges are vulnerable enough for Hobs and perhaps some follow up on our part to pick away at it."
"Otherwise, we go all in. We'd need to know and control the perceptions of all the witnesses to have a single or threaded narrative for this entity or for nearly all of the minds present to be 'dead to the world unconscious' to prevent additional subconscious fragmenting. The cult would be the easiest group to influence the narrative through," Gavin looked over at Henley. "We need the blood of the infected to do the damage though and they need to still be capable of dreaming when the Title is pulled into the material. If all the infected were asleep and the cult was in line with a single understanding and remained protected by my ritual, it becomes slightly more possible to pin it down in total." The Razorhand shrugged, uncertain how far his initial idea could take the effort. "A meme war got us this far."
Briefly establishing eye contact with the Magistrate. "Maybe this dream entity here has something to add that could pen the Title in further and make one of these options more effective." Gavin stepped between 'Fawkes' and Icarus to keep its attention from drifting back to the Knight once it had finished facing off with Yuan.
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Post by Fawkes on Apr 10, 2022 22:18:19 GMT -8
The mannequin straightened from the pattern that had grown from the Hedge twisting reality around their manipulation, and the table seemed to fracture and fray to liquid matter with the impossible language and Mantle illusions.
"Hmmm- well, if I structure the pattern you've already established with reality and the Fae, I think I'm quite experienced with labyrinths." Slamming the fist into a table that used to be theirs, the dust of the pattern fractured free; like a layer of reality had been peeled back and they were looking at the design from another ephemeral angle. It hurt the mind to try and track the fractals of stardust, glamour, and Verdant futures.
"I've rewritten It before, after, and again. Where the Skein is Its diffusion," they babbled to Saturday, with the optic frenzy following the former Riddleseeker's gestures channeled through an Elemental. "This one can vouch for me — where I tore the Lantern from their synapses," Lamassu said as a finger danced to land on Yuan, and a glance spared to Cinderella and Blaze as witnesses. The Autumn King was too busy leaning forward on the table to examine the creation of the Rite with a close eye. Golden's eyes were going wide as he watched the casual spell work design something monumental like a child would with finger-paints, sinking in his chair with the first inkling of fear — what the Pantheon motley was when fully realized. To the rest it was a sickening mess of un-making that their minds were too anchored to stomach after the first few seconds.
Another layer of reality peeled back with the scoring of the Hedge, like a wizard's PowerPoint, "That should lock the form on a readied path of evolving ideas. Mhm, like a circuit — a slime mold on a circuit — are you following me? I know the Name, now."
They sniffed as they wiped the blood pooling from their eyes as they tracked their own mad arcana. A Bargain beyond the Seasons that had resulted in an abomination of the Skein.
"I just need to look at Its Bastion."
The young Fairest was sick on the floor, and after another few seconds of silent consideration, Baron Samedi's copper mask cracked.
"Well, that would certainly keep it following the rules!" Philicia piped in the awkward beat between Golden collecting himself and the Autumn King's onyx claws starting to add a runic scratch here and there, seemingly captivated by the puzzle. "And I also think that will probably kill you, but, I guess dying twice would be an interesting trip."
"...The Gentry have Bastions?" Uriel shook her head in disbelief, levelling a sneer at the entity piloting the Sun Banisher.
"If my theory is correct... severed from the Dream. Or else, I would not have been able to influence it. I think it would provide a reasonable distraction for you to blight It in a Summer baptism. No splinters if there is no information coming in. Less variables."
They smiled at Gavin, offering the Beast the tweak they were asking for, though clearly braced for the inevitable scrutiny with one's motivations.
Icarus, meanwhile, had kept his eyes on the table, while Scorpio stared at him to look from the Magistrate, to the Autumn King, to the undead Spring Founder.
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Post by Henley on Apr 12, 2022 14:57:24 GMT -8
Henley had a bit of a skeptical look on his face as Totally-Not-Fawkes went on about rewriting the Fae, removing the Lantern from the minds of Lost. Locking it in, getting into the head of the Fae itself?! He glanced over the Mannequin and folded his hands in his pockets.
"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know who you are. And telling me you're... the dream-incarnation of a departed King wearing the body of a Winter soldier? I'm afraid that doesn't answer it. That just gives me more questions. You were once Lost, but what you are now is beyond the common - or even my rather uncommon - understanding. Either Her Majesty is right and you'll die, making you the most giving dream entity I've ever met, or you won't and you're fairly sure of that. Which makes me wonder why you're interested in putting yourself at risk to directly confront a True Fae when the rest of us are trying to use indirect methods to avoid going mad."
Henley gave a toothy smile that was Uncomfortable, not Pleasant.
"It's apparent that you're capable of controlling people from their Bastion. That's quite the ability, so what's the plan, then? Get into the mind of the Fae itself? What happens from there?"
Blink.
"You're answering my Motleymate's question by adding other, more complicated ones. And given that the kids who are going to have to fight and die to do this will be dying on my say-so, I'm inclined to make reasonable inquiries."
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Post by Fawkes on Apr 12, 2022 16:05:35 GMT -8
The Elemental's attention slowly wandered back to Henley, seemingly more interested in whatever insane spell they were roping Saturday to ply His own collaborative effort on. There was an eerie openness to the individual who was usually a blank, placid stare; where the Spring Mantle punctuated animated movements and charged expressions of someone who was experiencing the world quite differently than others. The being was acting like they were lucid dreaming, and the actors were props to consider and appreciate, but not worth the time to try and properly connect. They didn't appear to be malicious either, just detached in their high spirits as they occasionally remembered there were Others. The implications of Doubt from the Ogre doubling down on apparent mind control wasn't an important detail, where Blaze and Yuan had outlined to the paranoids that the pact was limited via consent.
"...What is your definition of death?" they asked, like they were trying to gauge whether he was talking to someone in elementary school or a PhD in astrophysics. "And why would removing a disruption to my environment and legacy be seen as altruistic?"
The snicker was more for themselves, like 'whoops, you got me!' "To put it plainly, I have always had a maddening call towards the unknown. I was not a Helldiver, but the poetry of reality compels me to seek new chaos to read and subdue. Maybe it was the Beast in me, or the frayed limits of paradox within perfection. When one has surpassed a single track of conscious expression, the chance to change the petty lords of riddles seems like the best possible use of my boundless time. I do not need to be one of the Lost to hate Them."
Lamassu cringed as they looked at the multi-planar set of equations, hoping Henley would 'get it.' "What happens...there? I do not know. Or there would be no reason to do it. Because I would have already have done it. I am hoping to fully understand the laws the Fae has to follow, rather than just how to beat it back and direct it. Why is the universal constant that can they not create, but can unmake and remake? They place you in a chrysalis and deem sovereignty over your being, like false gods. Is that act godly or a cheap mimic? Why bother to suppress another sovereign soul when nothing is gained and power is proven? There is no reason for this abuse, and so I am obsessed. You know, like how basic bitches get really into True Crime documentaries."
Henley comes to the conclusion that Lamassu is insane and will literally throw away anything and everything for a chance to learn something new. The act of gains is as simple as an animal dominating something that's challenged their territory.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Apr 12, 2022 16:39:40 GMT -8
It offered exactly what Gavin wanted. It was very on brand for the potent Spring Mantle to offer hope and met desires. It was very convenient.
Like Henley, Gavin was skeptical of a free lunch though.
The Freehold was lining up most of what was needed to corner the Fae. This unknown entity was offering to pen it in more completely than was likely without its help. Why? To what effect?
If the Title was only completely penned in at the will of this false Fawkes, then it stood to reason the complete containment of The Elysian Fields could be withdrawn at its will as well. This whole effort to contain and destroy this Title could be undone by an ambitious dream spirit seizing the opportunity to adopt the Title and escape the net through holes the Lost had only imagined were closed.
The Razorhand collected the gazes of King Samedi and The Knight of Webs before adding to Henley's pressure, subtly calling for their assistance with his line of thinking.
Turning in place toward Fawkes.
"Further to Henley's inquiries, I think it would be prudent to hear a Wyrd-bound Oath sufficiently in line with bringing about the complete destruction of that Title within this combined effort from you--If you are going to be in control of the faucet, we need to know which direction the handle will be turning." Too much was on the line to leave it to naïve trust. The Beast brushed the underside of his beard with the back of his hand, nervously testing the new boundaries allowed by his growing Mantle.
He had other thoughts in mind if there was enough time available to prepare other measures. Perhaps his monarch knew enough to stymy a rampant Lamassu were it to go off the rails. If not him, perhaps Icarus.
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Post by Fawkes on Apr 12, 2022 17:36:37 GMT -8
"I can make promises within the confines of my own reality if that makes you feel more reassured."
The entity gestured plainly at the spell projection their construct. "It is quite clear my intent is to destroy the Title. The whole point of this gambit is so it does not take on forms that cause complications to your plan. Like, I do not know, turning into a giant galaxy whale and crushing all of you? Turning into an ocean of rainbows and screams?"
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Post by Chunhua on Apr 12, 2022 17:45:40 GMT -8
Chunhua was frowning at the light show, trying to track the rambling arcane equations. When she sensed the Razorhand staring pointedly at her, her head turned slightly to address King Samedi,
"I will write a contractual agreement to be offered in the realms of this prison."
It was a vague statement, but the Dread Lord nodded once to sanction the task.
As for His opinion, He numerated in silence, sliding the rock of the table beneath His claws to make adjustments while Fawkes rolled his eyes skyward whenever the quiet grate of stone reached his ears.
"You will never make it perfect, frè."
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