"I've found references to a Book of Eibon, but it's not clear if they're about an actual book or something in fiction. It was related to secret cults," Hakeber notes. "He was supposedly some sort of prehistoric sorcerer, but I don't see how he could be connected to the Dark Horse, unless it's just Hastur's.. err.. H'aaztre's.. metaphorical nickname. If it's anything to do with the Tnuctipin, well.. there aren't any records to compare to, obviously. This ship is the only Tnuctipin artifact that we know of."
The new Marker sits on Tasha's desk, between her and her pet scholar of things cult-related. "Don't look at the Sign for too long," Samael advises.. probably for the fifth time now. After what happened with Eve's book, nobody wants to let the new symbol be scanned into the computer system.
Of course the warning comes to Tasha late, having been its recipient in another time and place. And not just time and place, but a place beyond, to another form of herself from a twisted worldline. A worldline only she and Samael seem to remember, leaving her with the lingering memory of having lived two lives, a kind of transcendence of self that has caused ongoing self-reflection and re-assessment of all that she holds dear. She has been well comforted to realize how strong her bond of affection is for the people on this ship, existing across two similiar yet different lives.
As for the Marker, the strange abyssal thing that at least appears to be one of the Vril artifacts, that remains a more standard mystery if such things can have a standard. An item from a kind of god, from elsewhere. A price paid or to be paid. A reciept, perhaps, for work on their existences. She was hesitant to share it, but Hakeber could see it and even know from whom it was given. "Samael, Hake, do you know why Hastur would give me such a thing? It's clearly intended for a purpose, to repay what is owed, but I'm not certain how. It's not what I would have expected from the Outter Gods, but at least hastur seems to know something about the Vril-ya, their artifacts, and chose a Marker shape for a reason. They're both life rafts and declarations for uplifted species."
"You may be giving it a meaning beyond its true nature," Samael notes. "I don't know of these Vril-ya Markers. But this sort of thing is not uncommon," he explains, and taps the dark object. "It's condensed spacetime, but the Outer Gods use dark space and dark time. This is a piece of D-Space as you call it. There are many variants, depending on reality of origin."
"Like calling cards," Hakeber mutters.
"I hadn't realized they were so common. I know of a number of these artifacts, but only ones produced by the Vril-ya. Theirs are probably composed of Vril-energy or the specialized stone-like material they use, or both." Tasha turns to examine the artifact yet again, her interest in its purpose greater than her fear of it. After all it's the incarnation of a obligation she agreed to for a good purchase, she isn't about to shirk it now. In a way, she had always known that the day might come where she would face such a situation. "So Hastur is having me bring his calling card to Thotep. It's obviously some sort of message, but I wonder what kind and for what purpose. Is it even something we can comprehend?"
"It doesn't bear Thotep's symbol," Samael says. "That doesn't really mean anything though, since the messenger.. that is, you, Tasha.. or Sasha.. was informed of the recipient." Using the interactive surface of the desk, Samael draws a symbol: the central part is small circle atop a long straight line ending in a cross base the same width as the circle, while at the midpoint a short arm extends to the right, then bends and reaches over the circle, curving to slightly extend over the top. On the left side is something like an integral sign or a very stretched 'S'.
Tasha frowns for a moment at this new symbol, mentally cataloguing it away under what she knows about Thotep. It interests her that the Vril chose to indentify themselves by their uplifted species, which makes much more sense at this later date. The Vril-ya, specifically their Archons, are their purpose, and their purpose is their uplifted species. Each uplifted species then influcnes its Progenitor, for they are what they know. It seems nice and neat to the young woman, which also makes her doubt it. She decides to review the idea later.
For now she looks up again, to Samael. "Do you know why Hastur would want me to approach Thotep? Is this something they do often?" Often being a rather loaded word for beings outside time and Tasha knows it, but the languages she knows make scarce allowance for such things.
"As a Servitor, I have often been used to convey messages," Samael notes. "I have a symbol too, but it's shared with all other Servitors. They do have means of contacting one another directly, but using a physical message like this helps with keeping things linear, so that replies do not arrive before questions, and so on. Hastur and Thotep seem to prefer physical existences, which requires a certain adherence to a one-way flow of time."
"I think I understand." And that surprises Tasha, given that she doesn indeed believe she understands. After having travel time, dimenionality and now worldines, the ordering of these myrid and different 'universes' and their rulesets has become more apparent to her. In particular, of relevance to all beings who make a habit of traversing these distinct manners of existing, the rules of traversal and maintenance are of special concern. She can see a small part of how such an agust and transcental being might go about chosing the manner of its existence and how it might follow the proper rules to maintain it, just as she too has navigated them to return to her 'home universe', to that special and unique blend that is the universe of her birth. "Well, I guess we'll know soon. I plan to deliver it as requested."
"Before or after delivering me?" Samael asks. "There is also the matter of Leviathan's meddling through Fessus. Thotep and Leviathan do not get along, especially after Leviathan 'switched sides' and took over the realm of Gakido from Thotep."
"Probably before, fulfilling my deal for the righting of our worldline has priority over our mission goals. We may take risks, but I'm not going to tempt things by being ungrateful to a being who helped us in a pinch, whatever its motives. That superceeds Thotep's desires." Tasha taps the side of her muzzle, pursuing it and leaning back. "But I do plan to follow through on both agreements unless you have a better idea, Samael. Neither of these beings are someone I want to upset without very good reason. As for Leviathan, I'd never heard of that being before but that doesn't surprise me. I am very bothered that it attacked us. I had thought Fessus would be able to escape whatever we did to the planet, though I might not have considered its situation deeply enough, and taking T'throgga away from it wasn't exactly friendly of me either. But, out mission does mean we must oppose the Ogdoad, and that meant T'throgga, so maybe it was inevitable. Still, you think Leviathan wanted it, which is a diff
erent matter. And I doubt any of us expected Hastur would eat the planet or, well, whatever He did to it."
"It's likely been pulled into the Void," Samael says. "There are lots of worlds and pocket-realities tucked away in there. A lot of them are hells, of course. Order and Chaos both seem to like making those. Many Outer and Elder Gods tend to end up there for one reason or another as well. It's why it was so important to imprison the Ogdoad here in linear reality."
"To limit their influence? Maybe also their ability to feed?" Tasha inquires, leaning forward again, elbows on the table and head resting on her hands. She's quickly readapted to be Tasha, but there's still the lingering voice of Sasha behind her thoughts. Another her, or perhaps the same her -- now or always -- who sees things somewhat differently. Sometimes the urge to see them the same way strikes her, and she follows it if she doesn't catch it in time. Regret is something she's found to be particularly unsettling, missing another kind of her friends and family. She assures herself they the same, ultimately. After all, she didn't notice when her worldline changed. That must mean something. "And there are a lot of hells, you said? Places we mortals find unpleasant, or is there a deeper meaning? Is it profitable to them, do they somehow get something from making them?"
"The Ogdoad are most vulnerable when forced to bend to the rules of physical reality. It's also more.. noticeable," the demon explains. "As for the hells.. well, some may be reserved for the souls of followers, but usually they are for petty things. Thotep, for instance, particularly despises the Ogdoad D'endrrah. When D'endrrah devours a world, it spawns offspring, the Gaki. Thotep imprisoned the Gaki in Gakido, a barren place of eternal starvation, for the Gaki are insatiably hungry."
"I ... see," notes a somewhat agast Tasha, who leans back slightly and cants her ears back a tad. That such things happen aren't especially surprising to her, after all mortals seem to do much the same thing to people they don't like, but having some experience with the scale of these godlike beings and the multiverses they inhabit it's startling simply by virtue of scale and power. "I think that's the first time I've heard the actual name of an Ogdoad, even something about their nature." Another thing to add to the endlessly growing mental lists. "So, now Leviathan controls Gakido. Is Leviathan allied with the Ogdoad, then? Is it planning to return the Gaki?"
"Leviathan has turned to Order, but that doesn't mean it allies with the Ogdoad," Samael notes. "It converted Gakido into the Labyrinth, a place of more orderly torment, and where all hungers are imposed upon the Gaki. I believe Leviathan's last goal was the capture of Lukthu-hem, the womb of the Ogdru-hem."
"Well, what is it Gabriel said once? The 'enemy of my enemy'? But, eesh ... " Tasha shakes her head out, having reached some internal limit on the weird and the horrible. It's been a long week, longer still for including inter-universal and worldline traversal. She isn't sure how to do the math on that, in fact, and settles for it just being longer 'somehow'. "Well, okay, so, it wants Lukthu-hem, who seems to be the creator of the Ogdru-hem? Or some kind of creator being?"
"It's.. the womb where they were created, but not a part of the Ogdru-hem mission," Samael notes. "Sort of a planet sized mass of internal organs and warty pustules. The pustules are the actual wombs. It's not very pleasant to behold."
The hybrid does wrinkle her muzzle. "So I see," she conceeds. A moment later she leans back again, inhaling and stretching her arms before flopping back, limbs lifeless at her side. Her allies and enemies often feel endless, limitless, perhaps entirely because they are. "And, well, Leviathan wants it, to make his own Ogdru-hem or to prevent more, I guess? I'm sure an Outer God could do a lot with an Ogdru-hem factory. But their war isn't exactly our war, at least I'm not sure how we fit in to that yet, so lets focus on what we can do. In your opinion -- both of you -- is T'thorgga no longer a threat to this universe? What about Fessus, is he out too?"
"We didn't see a pyarmids-thing fly past, and the temple-city was the first part of the planet that got pulled into that abyss," Hakeber notes.
"Fessus was merely a Servitor, so it's 'gone' for now, until Leviathan decides to recreate it," Samael notes.
"That's one vote for 'no more Fessus'. Samael?" Tasha turns to peer at her new demon friend. She then nods to his words. "That's two. So no more Fessus, for now. And no more T'throgga, who is probably asleep on Prax-the-new-Hell-World. As victories go, I'm going to call it a reasonable success even if we had outside help." Very outside, as it happens. "So next we meet up with Thotep and handle our obligations there. Is there more you want to say about this, Sam, or do you want more time to plot?"
The doppleganger grins at Tasha. "Well, outside help is often needed. Even the Xilphrim needed help to trap the Ogdoad. Some of them are probably still hanging around, if one knew where to look."
Tasha's ears flick, her muzzle twitches in to a frown. "The Xilphrim or their 'helpers'?" Of all the myrid elder beings, the young woman has most tried to avoid the attention of the Xilphrim, or as they are known back home, the Sifra. For her family back on these worlds as well as herself, it is inher best interest to avoid their notice, especially given their home turf is her homeworld and she was made using some bastardized variation of their collapsing technology.
"Well, their helpers at least," Samael notes. "I recall Kthanid was one of them, even though he was of Order and closely related to the Ogdoad."
"I'd rather follow up on Vulcan than deal with more dark gods," Hakeber mutters.
"I am less and less surprised close relations of elder beings don't share their outlook, even if I don't understands the complexities and reasons behind it." Tasha works her muzzle a moment, then nods slowly. "We can put trying to meet him on the 'to do' list for the future. After we meet Thotep, we'll probably then turn around and have to deal with our star hugging friend. You haven't met him, or maybe you have, but he managed to chase us off using his star-horn even while being in a star system sized brawl with Berserkers. We'll probably have to deal with them, too, come to think of it."
Tasha taps ehr chin again, thne turns to Hakeber. "You think Vulcan will be better? Gods, I hope he isn't like Horus, he probably isn't. Actually, Hake-bear, I could really use some Titanian-style simplicity about now. Horus even said he's, well, fun. Not his words, but my interpretation. He tries new things. Like Horus, he seems to be one of the less orderly Vril-ya."
"Well, the Titanians didn't have any moral quandaries regarding their role in things," Hakeber admits. "And he's still active, supposedly."
"I would like to meet one of these Vril-ya," Samael notes.
"Yes, he still is. I had that confirmed from the Titanians themselves, and Horus thinks he is, too. Supposedly he's the one who created the Hammer-metal, the material this ship is made from, and through it you can hear his resonance and find him. He calls to Titanians, sometimes. It's a big thing for them." The hybrid sits up, reaches to rub her nose. "I have the Phins listening and I'm keeping a soul-resonance-eye out. If we hear it, we'll go say 'hi'. We'll need to be prepared, though, because his world is its own lava-covered hell world." She then sweeps her gave to Samael and frowns for a long moment -- but then a little grin forms on her face, growing steadily wider. "Would you? Oh, that'd show him. Still, what would you give to meet one?"
"I have nothing to give, aside from billion-year-old gossip and knowledge of worlds that have almost certainly drifted to the point I can no longer locate them," the demon admits.
Tasha considers this for a long moment, then she shrugs good naturedly and her grin turns lopsided. "Good enough for me! Come on, I need to confirm something before we reach Thotep anyway. We'll see if you can say 'hi'." She pushes herself up to standing, turning to Hakeber. "Hake, I'll be busy for a little while. Could you grab Lacci for me? I don't think it'll result in anything, but I'd at least like to try while I'm showing Samael around. Have her meet me on the shuttle deck?"
"Sure thing, boss," Hakeber says and throws a lazy sort of salute that ends with a blown kiss. Just before she leaves, she pauses in the doorway to ask, "Uh, are you taking the new Marker in with you?"
Tasha wags her tail at the kiss, just so Hakeber knows she appreciates her. To her question, she glances at the Marker and frowns at it, then shakes her head. "Not just yet. I'll lock my office before I leave so no one else can bask in the mind-bending joy that is the Yellow Sign. I'm sure it'll be fine. Probably. Maybe?" Another shrug, she'll do what she can. After that she starts for the door, waving Samael onward. "I may need your help, talking to Horus will need some of your Outsider Magic by way of my brain and soul. We'll figure it out. Off we go!"
"What sort of Outsider Magic are you hoping for?" Samael asks Tasha while admiring Melchior. Lacci is only now arriving, giving the demon a cautious look.
"I need to figure out how we can all talk. You see, he's actually in there, but normally a special system is required to speak to him. The system uses my brain and unknown other methods to allow us to talk in a simulated reality, a computer reality. I think. There's definitely some sort of translation going on though and his situation is a bit fragile, so I don't want to use any other method if it can be helped." Tasha only glances at Lacci as she arrives, focusing her attention at the task at hand and feeling she ought to project some form of boss-level distance in this time of uncertainty. With all that's happened the crew ought to expect its leadership to at least seem like they know how to handle things. She'll make it all up to them later, when a vacation is arrange -- assuming they all don't flee the ship when they return to Caltrop, anyway. "If you can connect you and Lacci to me, it may be possible."
"And this Horus is the creator.. or educator.. of the Vartan species?" Samael asks next. "Just for clarity's sake."
Another glance towards Lacci, but Tasha's expression doesn't change by virtue of some effort on her part. "Yes, you can definitely say that. I'll explain more if we can make this happen. Can you do it?" Thus her gaze returns to Samael.
Sam opens his mouth, raises a finger, and says, "Unlikely. The key here, it would seem to me, is that you two are Vartans, or at least have the necessary Vartan bits of brain matter. It would seem reasonable to assume that only Vartans would be able to speak to their god. I am not a god, certainly, but more to the point I am not a Vartan. I am pretty much the opposite of both of those things."
"I do have a suggested work-around, however," the demon offers.
And so Tasha's ears wilt. "Well so much for that idea. I don't know any other way to speak to him, either, and they're not usually very talkative when they don't want to be. I heard a story where one ignored their host for six-thousand years even with no one else around." Her shoulders roll in a shrug, but her ears then perk. "Yes, though? You have an idea?"
"You can relay our questions to Horus, then we can read your memory of his replies afterwards," Samael suggests. "You can do that, can't you, with your Virtual Reality?"
"I can do that with my boring old regular brain," Tasha insists, rapping her taloned knuckles on the side of her head. "Alright. Give me your questions." Finally, now, she turns to smile widely at Lacci and spread her hands. "Guess what, Lacci? I, emissary of Atum who is leader of the Vril-ya, warden-by-request, have chosen you to be the very first Vartan to speak to Horus in who-knows-how-long. Horus! Like the statue on Varta, right?" She leans in a little, searchingly. "Yes, that Horus. Here. And. Now."
"By proxy?" Lacci asks nervously.
"By proxy! He's shy. And difficult." Tasha hopes that last bit doesn't betray half her plan as to why she'd hoped to get Lacci to speak to Horus, the other half being both witness and as a form of motivational guilting. "But yes, through me you may speak to our creator, A.K.A. god, A.K.A. that statue by the nice lake. Uplifter of Vartans, Great and Shiny Horus."
"I bet you thought I was just a Khattan weirdo," Tasha adds, in afterthought.
"So... you're sure this is really Horus?" Lacci asks. "He's shiny? I didn't know he was shiny. I never thought about questions, either. What.. what did you ask him?"
"Uhh, well ... " Tasha scratches at her head, caught off guard by having herself questioned instead. Suddenly her whole dialogue with Horus is now under questioned, to be potentially judged in time by all Vartan kind. It makes the next part especially awkward to say. "I'm sort of his ... jailer? Warden? Shepard? He had a duty, but he put it aside for us, so now I've been assigned to see it done. I've been trying to find alternatives, but it's not like he's easy to deal with. He's so much like us it's hard to see him for what he is. In many ways he's the very essence of all Vartans, which means he's incredibly stubborn, especially when he thinks he's right. And he is, to a point, but he doesn't seem to understand I'm trying to help him -- to help all of us. He just ... He wants to be left alone. He wants to go home. But that can't happen, even if it was my choice, which it is not. You see, I'm the one who brought him home in the first place, but they sent him back. With me."
"He is very shiny," Tasha then adds, awkwardly and hoping it might help her case somehow. Rarely does something being shiny hurt a Vartan proposition, at any rate. "A being of fire and light."
"That sounds frightening," Lacci admits. "So.. hmm. Did he actually.. you know.." the girl stumbles, looking embarrassed. "Make more Vartans the.. uh.. natural way? Some of the old dynastic lines claimed to be descended from him, so.."
Tasha cocks her head to the side. She hadn't really thought about how he made Vartans, the gritty nuance of it. For a moment she pictures a giant glowing statue-god making it with what she pictures a pre-sentient Vartan to be like and squeezes her eyes shut as a result. "I'll, um, I'll ask," she agrees, if with some difficulty and rather as if she'd swallowed something unpleasant. She sucks in a breath, clears her mind with effort, tehn exhales at straightens. "Wow, questions, right? I think he just modified the originals. His kind are what they know, so he knew our precusors, and using his, um, 'Vril-powers' modified us. But I'll ask."
"Anything else?" The Warden of Horus asks.
"Does he side with Order or Chaos?" Samael asks, with a somewhat cocky grin. "The Vril-ya seem like beings of Order, don't they? But didn't this one throw everything into.. chaos?"
"I've been wondering that myself. Your father even explained it to me," Tasha notes to Samael, nodding at him. "He said the Vril-ya are 'like children', beings made of Order like you are made of Chaos, yet they're fascinated by exciting material beings like Lacci and I. It's their, um, religion I guess. They admire the Stel-- The Stelyah ... The Star Horses, who are also physical beings. Or were. But they don't understand us because they don't understand Chaos. It's probably like how we physical beings have a really hard time understanding concepts native to other realities. Except, welllll ... " And here Tasha holds her hands out. "Except Thotep said Horus is the worst at it. The cloest to Chaos. But I don't think he realizes that maybe he's done what the rest of Vril could not: He's touched Chaos. Yet, neither he nor they understand that, so they condemn him and he himself."
"Then he probably won't be able to answer the question," the Servitor notes. "In which case, ask him about relationships between the Vril-ya. If he's pushed himself that far out of the norm for his kind, then maybe he's done other stuff that would be considered strange for non-biologicals."
"If that's true I guess he does belong on this ship." Tasha then turns to Lacci and grins widely at her. "We're like a floating bin full of outcasts and weirdoes. Thanks for signing on, by the way. Have you done anything strange for a biological?" And so she perks her ears forward, hoping to regain some of her footing.
"I was talked into flying off on a ship full of weirdoes and aliens and demons," Lacci points out.
"That is pretty strange," Tasha agrees, turning to smile at the demon who looks like her. "Isn't that strange Samael? Did you know Horus called me a devil? Isn't that rude? You see what I ahve to deal with?"
"Wait.. are you telling me that you aren't a devil now?" Samael asks, squinting at Tasha. "You need some goat horns.."
Tasha covers her head, hunching down a little. "Oh very funny. Wait," she squints, " ... you're not being serious, are you? I'm pretty sure you called me a mortal in that usual condescending way beings like you do, so obviously you're teasing me." And then her expression falters a little more. "Wait, that's not what the Marker is about, is it? Is it?"
"What's this now business," the hybrid then prompts. "Why now? What happened for there to be a now?"
"The rabbit-man said you were a succubus-demon, and that he had paintings back home to prove it," Samael claims.
Lacci's eyebrows and ears rise up at this news.
"I hate that painting!" Tasha exclaims, having had quite enough of that old misadventure. "Some nice Zerdas people asked for it, they were really nice! I was being nice!"
"Demons can be nice," Samael claims. "Aren't I nice?"
Lacci may have also been hearing things out of school, since she asks, "So.. you don't really have a whip then, do you?"
"It's more that I understand your kind of nice," Tasha notes, uncurling a little, ears going back to a respectable default. "I grew up around people with your kind of nice. Your nice makes sense, in a way. But your nice isn't what I'd call nice-nice." Turning, the hybrid woman thumbs back towards the hatch and her ears go askew. "I do have a whip, but's it's a tool. A. Tool. For directing animals. An-im-als."
"But.. there aren't any animals here except for the cats, right?" Lacci asks to be certain.
"I keep it for sentimental value! It meant a lot to me when I earned it, you know. Not all of us got to grow up in a fancy spaceship surrounded by robots and teachers. I had to work." Tasha turns to face Lacci fully, then walks over to her. She has to look up, being rather short for a Vartan. "I'm actually younger than you, did you know that? I mean, besides time traveling all the time, I mean. And how I just spent like a day on another worldline -- which I still remember by the way!" That last is shot towards Samael, with a tone of questioning.
"That may or may not fade in time without reinforcement," Samael suggests, but also shrugs. "Assuming your wetware memory works the same as was the norm a million or so years back."
Lacci backs up. "I just.. wanted to be sure of what you meant by animals," the Vartan notes nervously. "We're all animals. Even the Jotoki.. aren't they?"
"Oh well, one more me in my head. What else is new in my life." Tasha turns back to Lacci and raises an eyebrow. "Yes, regular animals. Bi flying lizards! Not Naga. Just lizards." She then sniffs, a bit hautily. "The Jotoki are probably animals like us, too. I'm not really sure, but it doesn't matter. Anyone and everyone is welcome on The Dark Horse, so long as they don't endanger my family." She backs up a step, then, looking suddenly tired, walks over to a stack of crates and plops herself down. "Soooooo .., evasive jokes and laughter aside, I was kind of hoping your mutual presence would help me figure something out with Horus."
"Figure what out?" Samael asks.
"Well," Tasha settles back, hoofed feet swaying over the side of the container, arms braced behind her back propping her up. "Such as ... Did he send me to Thotep ... To ... I mean, was it advice or ... "
The hybrid woman blinks a moment, then she frowns, eyes roaming her belly as if searching for something. "Did he ... set me up? Is he so mad at me he actually pointed me towards someone as dangerous as Thotep hoping I'd fail? That something bad would happen?" Her shoulders roll in a shrug she doesn't quite feel. "That ... Um, that kind of hurts, actually. We've argued before,and he is a pain, but, I mean ... he's ... "
"Did you voice disappointment in him?" Samael asks. "That's usually how people end up seeking out Thotep - they've given up on their other options, or need knowledge that just isn't available by other means."
"I might have been a little disappointed, but I think he's disappointed in himself, too." Tasha heaves a sigh. She never had a father, dealing with ancient archetypal creator-dads is just not something her heart was prepared for. If she had only knew what she had been walking in to. "He said 'Maybe Thotep will be a better god for you', like he was trying to foist me off on some other god. I half-think he was hoping I wouldn't come back, so he could go back to sleep. But the thing is, I don't think he can go home. If he fails with me, who else is going to look after him? I mean, that's why I bbrought Lacci here."
Lacci blinks. "What? You want me to be the keeper for a god with low self-esteem?" she asks with a high-pitched squawk.
"Kiiiind of?" Tasha pushes off, landing with a thump. She then tucks her hands behind her back and begins pacing like a a relatively tiny general who has too much on her plate. "I mean, if he hates me and I failed, I still have to do my job and someone has to look after him. I did promise Atum, and short of trying to kill me or hurt my friends and family I will protect Horus. But that can't be me, I needed a backup. I had also hoped your presence would work as a way to mollify him, to let him see one of his Galactic Vartans since obviously I'm not good enough. It was supposed to be a kind of apology, or, I guess, giving him a bit of what he wanted, too." She then shakes her head. "Of course I still have hopes you'll show some hidden potential. It takes time. I know, because I've been down that road. And maybe Samael here would help me understand him better. Sometimes it feels like I get along -- uh, minus the ones that just attacked us -- with every other advanced being except h
im. And sometimes, I kind of wanted to punch him."
"So behold my great and migthy plans. See, I can have plans within plans too. Far reaching goals. Seecrets. Ugh, I'm becoming like ... " Tasha pauses near Samael, then squints at him. "Like you all. I used to be so direct."
Lacci looks.. uncertain. "So.. you wanted to show me off to him so he'd take pity on me and be more helpful?" she asks Tasha. Horus isn't the only one with self-esteem issues. Maybe it's just something that other Vartans hide better.
"Kiiiiiind of?" Tasha hedges, stopping in her pacing to turn and peer at Lacci instead. "I wanted to give him what he wanted to see, and to have another Vartan here in case I wasn't good enough. Shojo can handle part of it, but I needed a Galactic. Someone, um, naive but good hearted. Someone who wouldn't try to use him for anything, who was honest, and maybe yes had a low self-esteem. Or, at least that might help." She heaves a sigh, straightening. "And I had hoped you would find your own place in things in time. Grow up, that sort of thing. Maybe you'd learn, and he'd learn by watching you. I am thinking about his welfare, whatever he thinks of me. I am thinking about everyone's welfare, but I must also fight gods. Gods, Lacci. You must have guessed by now we were somehow responsible for the end of poor Prax. I had planned to maybe destroy that world in time, but losing it to save everyone on this ship was an excellent bargain."
"So, you hoped that a lost chick would awaken Horus's.. parental instincts?" Lacci asks. "And you had to remind me that a planet we'd only just left was.. eaten by giant tentacles.. And now it's our fault too? Sorry, Tasha, but.. you're on your own explaining that to him."
"I'm thinking of just siding with Terrans, what do you think?" Tasha turns to ask Samael. She keeps a straight face, but after having her family threatened multiple times, being dragged in to other realities, having helped destroy a world and having spent part of her day off-and-on lamenting another variation of people she fought to get back, rejection comes hard. "They're sneaky, they'd understand this. I'm sure Lilith would sympathize with all the difficulty, too, suicide or not. Maybe that's a bad idea, actually." She stares at the demon-man, sullen-eyed, not quite able to hide her emotions. Eventually she realizes it, waving a hand back over her shoulder. "Sorry, this was a waste of time. You can get back to what you were doing. Go and rest."
"Are you still gonna ask him those questions though?" Lacci asks.
"Mm?" Goes the hybrid, who had already started walking towards the elevator to her private deck. "You still want to know how?"
"Well.. it doesn't have to be right away," Lacci says quickly. "You don't want to have.. uh.. god-fatigue when you talk to Thotep."
Tasha pauses. "God-fatigue. Yes. That's what I have. God-fatigue. I need to find Liza, I think I need a drink. And a massage. Maybe a nap." She begins walking again, waggling a hand towards Samael. "Try not to get in to trouble. Lacci, teach him some more about the Galactics, would you? I think maybe I'll paint. Or sleep. I'll need Liza. Computer, get Liza please."