Before Tasha is a nightmare. It seems rooted to the ground like a tree, with many fleshy trunks and roots rising up to combine into a body of sorts. The head is like a flower, with a cluster of glowing blue orbs on stalks at the center, surrounded by a mish-mash of fleshy fans and squirming, sucker or cilia-bellied tentacles. Other features can be glimpses through the writhing, things that might be mouths or ears or unknown sense organs. The sense of scale is skewed - the creature might be the size of a tree, or the size of a mountain, near enough to touch or far off in the distance.
Had Tasha not already been faced with terrors both within and beyond mortal scope, she would have been sent screaming from this nightmare. The vastness of the multiverse, the crinkling-paper abyss of the Source, the child of impossible colors that is He-Who-Moves; she walked in to death and near death so many times; she wrestled with self and the madness at the edge of its loss; she has met gods; she knew and knows herself to be some fulcrum of the tail end of a war beyond reality and time. Had that not been so, had she been weaker where it mattered, she wouldn't have been able to stand here. Here is not the place for an ordinary girl; here is not the place for people who belong in the light, avoiding the darkness.
But she is not ordinary, though she might seems so much like an ordinary girl. Tasha has walked far in her few months; she has seen the stars and what dwells between them.
But she is still afraid and part of her wishes with intensity she hadn't come to be here. But she has been close to here before, perhaps twice. And she remembers why she is here, in this nightmare. A journey made willingly in to the dark and a sword held at bay that mercy, knowledge, or clemency might make the difference. The desire to know, too, is there. How can a person judge a war, without ever knowing its people? Even people such as this.
And so with great trepedation and a herat that feels like it's beating a thousand times a second -- or not at all, dream world as it is -- Tasha steps forward and marshals all her strength. "Katha-hem," she whispers, a call for recognition of her presence, but strength musters with each word. "Katha-hem. KATHA-HEM!"
"Tisiphone," comes the reply, sounding like a chorus of.. well, tortured throats. "You Seek Me. You Find Me. You Know To Meet In The Realm Of Subreality. What Would You Ask?"
Tasha grits her teeth. She wasn't sure what the answer would be, but she was sure she wouldn't like it -- and was not disappointed. She doubts any answer from something such as Katha-hem, something that almost destroyed her with a casual flick of its dreaming mind, could put her at ease. Being called 'Tisiphone' is unexpected, however. "I am not my creator! I am Tasha!" She yells at the being, finding the heat of aggression and of anger provide fuel to a fire that keeps the dark at bay. "Your dreaming works have nearly destroyed us! Me! My friends! You should thank Mel, that I haven't destroyed you already!"
"You Reject My Lessons?" the chorus asks. "Did They Not Aid You?"
Tasha's head tilts back, her ears shifting flat. "What lessons?"
"Fear. Humility. Perspective," the voices claim.
The young woman opens her mouth, but doesn't have the words. She can't bring herself to believe that all they'd suffered was done for some sort of lesson, let alone to help her. The audacity of it all leaves her without a retort, but it comes in time as she recovers. "Fear? Humility? Perspective?" She bites, wanting to know the logic behind the madness. "For what, and why?"
"You Were Lacking," the chorus claims. "Are You Not Better From The Lessons? Did You Not Grow? Is Your Ego Tempered, Your Touch Lightened, Your Grasp Within Reason?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," the young woman insists, though it isn't entirely the truth. She gets the gist of what the alien mind implies, but not the why of it, nor does she have great faith it its honesty. Whatever the case, as is so often the case with beings such as this, she feels the weight of a game being played. A game far larger than she is, perhaps larger than she can imagine, and she a piece -- except that she is a piece who has glimpsed her players. "Explain!"
"You Were Given The Power Of A Machine," the voices say. "This Emboldened You. You Were Racing Towards Your Own Destruction. When Faced With It, You Panicked. You Felt Crushed By Fear. You Knew That The Machine Enabled You, So You Abandoned It. But It Was Not Enough. You Needed To Understand The Feeling Of Being Powerless. Only This Could Strip Away The False Sense Of Omnipotence By Association."
Tasha can see the logic on its head, but isolated it feels hollow. On some level she wonders if it's a series of calculated manipulations, as Warloq tried with her; yet on another she wonders if such manipulation is beneath a being such as Katha-hem, older than her species combined. But she can't be sure -- her assumption Katha-hem did not understand manipulation may have been just that, devoid of reality. And so the next question, the next piece of the puzzle, falls in to place. "Lets say I believe you were testing me, or training me, or whatever it is you felt ... " Does Katha-hem feel? " ... believed you were doing, now I ask: why? Why help me, why do you even ca- ... want to? What does it get you, and why would it help you or your masters? What are you playing at?"
"Before I Can Answer Such, I Must Know: Did The Empress Impress Upon You The Trap Of Power?" the nightmare creature asks.
For a moment Tasha's anger piques and she almost tries to yell Katha-hem down. The urge itself is as stunning as the outrage, the anger for having been manipulated through terror, injury, and near death only to find she's been toyed with. Or taught. But to realize she would shout down this being, hold its life in her hand and threaten to crush it, is unnerving in itself. And so she plays along, relenting from letting her anger control her and stepping back from the urge to violence and threat, chosing to see where things lead instead. For now.
"What, can't figure it out on your own?" Tasha didn't decide not to be sarcastic, however. She thinks she deserves as much for the scars, at the very least. She destroyed Warloq for far less. "Fine, I'll play along. Yes, yes. Gabriel has an old Terragen saying that says 'power corrupts,' but I know that's a lie -- probably by people who have never had any or only seen it second-hand. Power doesn't corrupt anyone, it's you who are corrupt, you just never notice until you have a chance to express it. The option, the means. But that's not all of it. Power also means you're now responsible. The more you can do, the more you could do. Even not doing is still your fault. Maybe I pity beings like the Star, because everything becomes their fault because they could."
But there's more, Tasha knows. Power is not blackness incarnate, it has another side. As, she thinks, do so many things. Like a tool, many uses, many wielders and their minds behind it all. "But power isn't to be avoided if it's needed. You took the Seraph away from me, but I still believe I could have done great things with it! But now I'll never know, not for sure, and it payed for my 'lesson' with its existence. But there's more: With power I could make the JEF, travel the world. It was power that saved the Elite and power that brought them here. So my answer to it all is this: Power is about options, and so it's about choices and ebing able to make those choices -- and the responsibility and reasons behind both the choices and their consequences. Power never controls; we control power. The trap of power is not being able handle it, its consequences, its implications or how the options create results that change you too. Power doesn't control; we control power -- but can you control yourself
? That's my answer."
"You Question My Methods, But You Accept Those Same Methods As The Price Of Learning By Other Means," Katha-hem notes. "You Learn From The Machines, But That Also Requires Trauma To Make Your Brain More Receptive, So That The Lessons Are Ingrained Deeply. And I Did Not Take The Seraph From You. It Was Never Yours. But How Could I Have Influenced It? There Is Only One Source Which Could Have."
Tasha isn't sure if the being approved of her answer -- but she isn't sure she's ready to care either. Not yet. "It's different when something willingly hurts you to teach you. I didn't thank Blackwings either, and it didn't save her. It probably made it easier," she points out, head shaking. But then she frowns, staring at the alien thing, the flower of nightmares. She isn't sure where to look, but is sure nowhere is comfortable. Katha-hem will likely remain in her dreams, like it or not, should she escape here. "Are you saying you didn't control the machine? That the Sifra did it?"
"The Sifra Are Distanced From Their Power, And May Never Regain It," Katha-hem states. "No, Not They. The One Who Decides Who Lives And Who Dies And That The Course Of Prophecy Is Not Shifted. The Last Great Being You Met Before Your Attempt To Control The Seraph."
It feels like such a long time ago. Events before ehr injury can be hazy, a side effect of the traumatic brain injury she suffered. But there are only so many beings who match that description, or at least could be concieved to do so beyond whatever veil they hide or are assumed to hide behind. Knowing the truth of these greater beings is, Tasha knows, a kind of power in itself. And so she stops to think back. "Are you talking about old Yama?"
"Yama It Calls Itself, The God Of Death," Katha-hem confirms. "The Serpent Of Arabia, Controller Of The Game. Balthasar's Fate And Purpose Were Set Long Ago. The Intrusion Into The Sifran Modifications Did Not Come From Me. It Came From You, Where It Had Been Implanted And Waiting, So That The Course Of Events Would Play Out As Ordained."
Tasha's mouth opens but no words come out. From me, from me?// And as she rallies to crush the thought, to pick it apart with fact, some of it fits -- but not all. She steps forward and counters, finally able to formulate her response, "But Kaheber said Abaddon is you. You were the one in the dream, and you were the face behind Abaddon. You also attacked Harmonia. She also spoke of Enyo! The attcks were similiar, how do you explain that?"
"Were They Attacks, Or Is That Only Your Perception?" the chorus asks. "Enyo Is My Kin. She Carries The Blood Of My Kind. Even You Are Touched By It, Which Is How I Knew You, Because You Were Going To Be Marked In Your Apparent Future. Power Must Be Tested. Enyo's Will Needed To Be Tested, And She Needed To Be Ready. But She Was Still A Slave, No Matter Her Will Or Desire. As Am I."
As Tasha processes the new information, she asks, "And me? What am I?" as it comes to her.
"Not A Slave," Katha-hem claims. "But Not Ready For The Task Ahead. Not Yet. Your Kind Are Stubborn. Again And Again I Show The People Of This World That Their Strength Lies In Unity, But It Never Lasts Beyond The Duration Of The Lesson. It Is Difficult To Understand You And Your View Of Past, Present And Future As Separate Points Upon A Vector."
Tasha's ears flick, her muzzle going through twists and winces as she works it all out. It's too jarring, too at odds with what she had believed, with the violence of the past. But it might be the truth. It might be. "They felt like attacks. Everything I loved, everything I was, was threatened. Even if it was a trick, it was real for me, and so it was a real attack with real consequence! Consequences that almost got you killed." She steps back, ears up, frowning. "So you wnat unity, is that why you never destroyed the cities? It seems like you could have, but I don't see what unity would get you. Especially if you're working for the Ogdoad. It doesn't make sense in the scheme of population and feeding, of releasing them. It only makes sense for our good. But I don't even know if the people here want unity. It's been a long time, and I tried it too, but they're picky and there are so many details and desires to keep track of."
"A Cog Does Need To Know The Purpose Of The Machine," Katha-hem choruses. "I Am A Cog. The Will And Goals Of My Creators Do Not Matter To Me, Only That I Fulfill My Function. That Function Is Involuntary. I Defend Myself In Reflex, Just As You Might Scratch Away A Flea That Bites You. Why Should I Not Wish To See The Mortals Prosper? It Is Different. It Is A Change That They Can Make In Themselves. To One Incapable Of Such Change, I Wish To Witness It. It Makes Me Feel Less Powerless."
And for a moment Tasha feels sorry for Katha-hem. After all that's happened, all the grand thoughts of revenge and triumph, of the peace it might bring to her and others, she finds the well has been poisoned -- by compassion and empathy. She utters a frustered, half-choked noise and turns away, beginning to pace in silence.
"You May Still Destroy Me, To Damage The Overall Machine If It's Function Is Detrimental To You," the chorus says. "This Is Acceptable. But I Do Not Wish To Be Destroyed Out Of Fear. Even Now, In This Non-Place, You Wear Armor. You Must Be Able To Face Your Fears And Challenges Unarmed And Naked. Then You Will Be Better Prepared To Use Your Other Advantages."
Tasha doesn't respond, instead she walks through the desolate landscape for several seconds, then sits herself down on a rocky formation and drops her head on her hands, eyes closed and face tensed in thought. After a time she speaks, without opening her eyes and without getting up. "I don't know," she admits, sounding frusterated and lost. "I don't know if I should believe you or who to believe. You all tell me one thing and are doing another. I used to be more willing to listen, but now I don't know. I used to want unity, too, but now I don't know about that either. You all seem to want something from me but never tell me what that is, maybe because it won't work -- you won't get what you want if you do -- but from where I am it feels like being toyed with. Lied too, manipulated. It all hurt, you know that don't you? It hurt. It hurt when that Eeee woman told me people don't want my help, too. I just don't know what to do. How can I not be afraid when I don't know anything? How can I not be afr
aid of things that are hurting me? And what if I'm tired of it? What if I just say no?"
"Fear Is Important," Katha-hem claims. "It Is Not An Obstacle To Be Overcome. It Must Be Accepted. Accept Your Fear And It Will Not Control You. Accept Your Anger, Your Ignorance. Use Them To See Farther, Notice Things You Might Have Missed. Know Your Weaknesses, And Use Them To Your Advantage. Do Not Think That You Are Being Manipulated, For Once You Do It Will Color Every Thought And Action. You Are Not A Slave. That Is Your Power, And Your Weakness. It Means You Must Make Your Decisions, Because Nobody Can Make Them For You. And I Do Want Something From You."
And so Tasha grunts in lieu of a reply. She has heard the advice before, in other forms, with different words and from beings less alien -- or equally so -- as Katha-hem. It's the kind of advice she knows to be easy to say and hard to actually act on, at least in ways that feel immediately meaninful or quick. It's the slow lesson, easily forgotten, long to build. A grubnt is as good as any response; no guarantee from her will make it so, and a denial of the advice won't mean rejection. Ultimately it will probably happen, she decides, but it will be complicated and difficult for her to fathom, taken as a whole. But at least there's a part of what was said she can find immediate response to, even if it's just a question. "What do you want from me?" A pause as she discovers another. "And you're doing it wrong. The Kaiju." She isn't certain why she would offer advice, save that it feels right and she's been pushed in to a mood of relfection of challanges.
"Trauma Ingrains Lessons," Katha-hem repeats. "The Response To Immediate Threat Can Overcome Obstacles To Cooperation That Might Grow If There Is Time To Think About Them. It Is Also The Only Tool I Have. What I Want From You Is Your Help To Rescue A Sibling."
Tasha cracks an eye open at that, looking up just slightly as the twisted landscape. She decides the view is no less unnerving, but perhaps it is becoming a familiar sort of unnerving. She wonders if there's some metaphorical lesson in the shape of this place, too. "Yes?" The young prompts, intrigued by request. "Is taht something you're allowed to do?"
"I Cannot Act," Katha-hem claims. "Nor Can Sadu-hem. We Are Vulnerable To Abuse By Those Who Know The Old Ways. Sadu-hem Suffers."
Trying not to think too hard about how she may have just gone from persecutor to ally, let alone how traitous this might make her, Tasha perks her ears and stares at what she assumes to be Katha-hem's face, listening. "Do I know Sadu-hem?"
"Your Harmonia Carries Its Blood," the chorus says. "It May Be Known By Other Names."
Tasha frowns a moment before speculating, "That station, the one that looks like clockwork and where they make the stators. Sadu-hem is there, isn't?"
Something fizzes in Tasha's mind for a moment. "It Is Likely That Sadu-hem Is There, Referred To By Another Name," the chorus agrees.
Tasha sits up, reaching back to her head and rubbing it. She knows it's not her real head, but the action may have real consequences in her mind. "Katha-hem, did you do that?" She touches her forehead, head shaking. "Sadu-hem. When I said it, I felt something. Was that your doing?"
"I Needed To Access Your Memory," Katha-hem explains.
"Oh." Tasha wrinkles her muzzle, but decides to leave it otherwise uncontested. "You called me Tisiphone and Harmonia Enyo earlier. Why do you do that, what does Harmonia mean to you and why do you call her 'destroyer of cities'? Or is that my label, or Yama's?"
"You Do Not Carry The Same Name Throughout Your Life," Katha-hem claims. "You Are Tasha In This Now. It Helps Me To Define Your Now. Names Have Power. Enyo Was How I First Knew Her Upon Her Awakening. I Do Not Know If It Is I Who Gave Her That Name, Or Merely I Who Revealed It. Cause And Effect Are Not The Same For Me As For You. I Saw Her Destroying Cities. Perhaps That Was The Dream Of The Empress."
"It must be confusing," Tasha agrees, uncertain what to say in the face of such a dissonance in the understanding of reality, time and space. And so she turns to other questions, hoping for easier topics. "Alright, well, are you working towards the same purpose as Yama, who seems to be trying to ensure something happens? Do you know of the Wayfarers and their Waymakers? Are they your enemies?"
"I Have No Enemies," the Ogdru-hem claims. "That Requires Communication. I Can Only Communicate With You And Harmonia. I Have Defensive Reactions, But They Do Not Consider Motives. There Are Those That Would Destroy Me, But I Do Not See Them As Enemies. I Am Not Part Of Yama's Plans, Nor Of The Magi Mission. I Know Of The Wayfarers, But I Did Not Witness Their Actions In This System, Only The Aftermath. By Appearing As Your Adversary And Theirs, I Did Try To Influence You Into Seeking Them Out."
"But, why?" Asks in logical sequence. "Why would you wnat me to seek them out? They may be hostiel to you, or at least their gods are. Or is it because you're curious, because you want to -- what did you say -- do it to feel less powerless?"
"The Engine For This World Has Awakened," Katha-hem says. "It Is A Time Of Change. One Can Become Part Of Change, Or Stand Aside. I See That I Will Be Part Of It. So I Attach Myself To Your Vector. I Am Curious About What The Wayfarers Are Aware Of."
"It Is Also Pertinent To My Function," the chorus adds as a bit of afterthought.
"I see ... I think. You see time as a whole? Or maybe more than one dimension? And this one, the one I'm on, is where change is happening. Old Yama said something like that, too. It must be true, so much is happening. I don't know how I can handle even a part of it, but somehow I'm still doing it. I think." Tasha frowns again, rising and dusting herself off needlessly. "Well. I'm not angry any more. I'm not sure I forgive you, buy you seem like you're at least as caught up in this as I am, and more of a prisoner than I may ever be." She turns then, looking around really looking before asking something that'd been nagging at her a while. "This place, is it a lesson too? The way it looks, the way you look, is there something behind it all?"
"This Is Where I Was Created," Katha-hem says, and suddenly Tasha seems to be right up next to the creature's face, the blue glowing orbs of its eyes an arm's length away, but each nearly as big as her body. "Perhaps It Is a Lesson For Both Of Us. Do You Still Fear Me?"
Tasha recoils, perhaps giving the answer away prematurely, but after a moment of grimacing she eases forward, then leans closer and and really gets a good look at Katha-hem. She squints, forcing herself not to look away until the answer comes. "The way you look makes me afraid. I'm not sure why, I've never been here before, but it does. It's horrible and if I had been weaker, if I hadn't seen what I've seen, I'd have screamed at it all," she answers, deciding on honesty, " ... but I'm not sure I fear the mind behind it all, anymore. The difference between us is frightening too, but I think I understand that better now. I've seen Mel's mind, and Harmonia's. I'm afraid of them, too, even though I don't fear the people themselves. It's like what I said about power. There's a power in all of you I don't have, and what it means and what it tells me isn't something I can control in myself. If I had it or knew it, I might become something I don't recognize. Far away from most of the people I know. You a
re one of the farthest I've ever met."
"You Will Meet Those Further Still From The Existence You Understand," Katha-hem claims. "And The Time May Come When You Must Destroy Me. There Are Three Potential Futures For Me. In One, The Sifras Regain Their Power And Destroy Me. In The Second, They Remain Subdued, And My Creators Can Have Their Dominance Once More. In The Third, The Sifras Power Is Taken By Another, And My Mission Remains Unchanged. In Two of Those Scenarios, I Am Destroyed By Either The Sifras Or By You, To Prevent Me From Fulfilling My Mission."
Tasha nods slowly to this, she had not forgotten that Katha-hem is beholden to a greater power. It isn't the first time she has had to deal with an alliance to beings who serve others -- objectives known or unknown -- with the specter of betrayal or inevitable conflict looming over their relationship. Harmonia is one such; Yue might have been another, as could be the Titanians. The conflicts have yet to happen, but she can never forget them and always wrestles with teh urge to act first.
"I'm not sure I will ever not be afraid. Even He-Who-Moves, who I liked, made me afraid. Hurt me, just by talking to me. The Source I can't see, and maybe that's better. I don't know." And then Tsha lifts a hand, hesitantly, before reacing out towards one of the orbs in a mix of primal revulsion and wonder, wondering which might win in her mind. "And maybe I will destroy you -- but it won't be today. I'll warm the JEF and the world to avoid your region entirely for their safety and for yours. I guess you can't tell me what your mission is?"
There's no proper sense of touch when contact is made, beyond the sense that contact was made. "I Watch For Conditions To Favor My Creators," Katha-hem explains. "If You Tell This World Of My Actions, How Will They Respond? Will It Undo Any Bonds That Have Been Formed By Having A Common Adversary? Will They Insist On My Destruction?"
Tasha runs her hand a moment, but then draws it back. Even touch, so fundamental to her, is strange with Katha-hem. "I just plan to tell them it's dangerous. That's all. A hazardous field. Don't kill anyone with your daikaiju -- don't make me regret my decision. What you do is my burden too, now." She steps back and lets her hand fall. "But even if I told them I don't know what they'd do. They care much about Lord Yama, and most of them are too busy with how hard their lives can be. It might be too much to expect that something as little as daikaiju can get them to come together. From what I've seen, it was the Pit that really made them cooperate. Not just a challenge, or fear, but something else to give them hope and to comfort them. They need more than endless fighting."
"I Must Trust In Your Judgment," Katha-hem says, its 'face' squirming and writhing in front of Tasha. "If It Prevents Conflict With Your Allies, You May Destroy Me To Maintain The Peace."
"I know." What she doesn't say is that she wishes she could feel good about it. So much of the blood on her hands has been nothing but tragedy after tragedy, all to prevent a forseen greater one, but none with guarantees she was right. She wonders how much of it she can stand, before she can't stand herself. "Then we'll consider it's peace for now. I'll tell Gabriel and Harmonia, but will remain prepared. That means it's time for me to approach the Hall."
"May Your Fear Be Prudent," the strange entity says, as if in blessing.
"Take care," is all Tasha can think of to say.
The world goes dark, which is then broken by the light of a candle - a green flame. It's being held in the cupped hands of Neesa, who sits in a chair next to Tasha's bunk, softly chanting.
Tasha stares at the candle for a moment, then lifts her head and turns it to face Neesa before lowering it again. "It's done, Neesa," she tells the chanting woman, "you can stop chanting now."
It actually takes a few moments for Neesa to stop - but she does change the chant. The candle begins to glow in a normal flame color, and then the wolf mage stops, and blows out the candle. Somehow that makes the rest of the tent brighter. "Did you get what you needed?" Neesa asks, and looks over Tasha's face. "Any ill effects? Headache? Fatigue? Urge to murder?"
"I'm feeling the universe can be very depressing," Tasha replies, looking older for her trip in to the dream world. "We had our talk. It wasn't what I thought it would be, but it's done. It'll be peace -- at least for now."
"Is that what you were hoping for?" Neesa asks. "After your other dreams... I'm surprised."
Tasha tries to sit up. "It's something. Better than what it could have been."
"So, what happens next?" the wolf asks. "Will you and Eli be returning to the Pit?"
Once up Tasha rubs her face. She can still see the landscape when she closes her eyes, she promptly avoids doing that. "Since Katha-hem has been handled for now, it's time for me to prepare to head for the Hall. Eli," she drops her hands, looking up and around to find the man, " ... you can either fly back with me or take the train. I have enough supplies on Harmonia now, it won't be so bad. I can't promise as interesting a flight as the train ride though."
"But it will be shorter," Eli says from another part of the tent. "And shorter is preferable to longer and louder."
Lurching forward, Tasha hauls herself to her feet and rubs her left arm with her right. "That's right." She spots Eli, nods to him, then turns towards the tent's exit. "Well I've had enough 'doom and gloom' for today. I think I want to eat and be drunk, but I'll settle for eating. Want to join me?"
"Of course," both of the wolves reply at once. But it's Neesa who follows up with, "I know a local underground pub that has decent meat."
"Show me the way, Fudgy-Fudgy," the young woman teases, waggling a hand forward for the Karnor to take the lead. "I'm going to contact Gabriel and tell him the, um, well the news along the way. I need to make sure the warnings are given annnd-- You don't need to know this and lets just think about eating."
(OOC) Log stop