"How did it go?" Mr. Invention asks Tasha when she exits the party. "the other chauffeurs are not talkative. Not many can afford living drivers."
"And what a wise investment you are. Lets return to the car and we can speak along the way." Tasha stands, smiling, beside Mr. Invention then, waiting for him to take the lead and see to the door.
So the werewolf opens the door to the aircab, which in any case has no manual controls. Once they're in the air and moving through the canopy, Mr. Invention takes out a pen does something to it. A little light blinks green once. "No eavesdroppers," he says.
"Good." Tasha then places her assortmet of party goods on the seat beside her, regarding them with a rsied brow before turning that look on Mr. Invention. "The party is indeed run by a power, or, at least, someone who I suspect is one or is controlled by one. It is well that I was never attacked, as that sort of adversary isn't one I would easily put even to our veterans. We spoke, I reported some of the activities in the Halo, he seemed relatively pleased if disappointed in my change -- the better for us all I think -- and then he handed me the bottle." She nods to it again.
"It was then as I was parting he mentioned another guest had arrived specifically for me. I think encountered them, a ... purple horned human, who bid I draw a card, and so I did. You can see it there." She nods again. "Apparently, it means I am wanted at 'The Cathedral' tonight."
"Hitting all the scenic spots I see," Mr. Invention says. He picks up the card and looks at both sides of it. "Someone knows an awful lot about you. What is in the bottle?"
"The power certainly does, but that's hardly a surprise for a being of that magnitude. As for the ... purple man," Tasha holds a finger near the card, but does not take it, "He's new. I can't even guess what power or authority he represents, save that he was aware that I possessed the Blue Marker from Persephone, which in itself is one of my deepest secrets. It's not impossible for Mr. Pharaoh to ahve informed some other, which is most likely, but if this new party was not told by him then it's surprising. More so, for focusing on that one than the others or anything else. Their interest is in my connection to Persephone. As for the bottle ... " She stares at it for a long moment, then shrugs with almost excessive motion. "Nooo idea. It's for Sam, with 'love'."
"Hmm, so, do you think it's possible for someone like Sam to be poisoned? So, the purple devil shows up at a party, and there's no commotion. Did he do anything else to hint at any special abilities?"
"You mean like stop time or cause us to be out of sync with space, perhaps in a sub-universe or other effect?" Tasha grins. "Yes. Aside from being ignored by guests, when he got my attention -- out of the blue -- he drew me in to some alternative space or cloaking field where we were able to talk in secret. It's there he bid me draw the card, we spoke a little, and then he was off. He was very ..," she considers for a moment, " ... playful, almost jovial, and tricksome. Like an actor, or like myself, seeming to enjoy the offer and my reaction, but not outwardly malevolent, even in gesture, unlike the party's host."
"That seems to sync with the local legends," Mr. Invention says. "People turning up that were lost and babbling about being taken to another world, or strange games. The rationalization is usually that people came across some sort of psychoactive flora, or that there's a 'hidden' civilization of purple-skinned First Ones. I'm sure Hakeber has come up with her own ideas by now, she consumes local myths like they were pizza. I think she might even get a little drunk off of them."
"Like pizza," Tasha repeats, well familiar with Hakeber's interests and the many way she can become overwhelmed. Her grin persists. "So. It seems I've been invited by these 'purple people,' or else I've been invited by hallucinogenic plants, or else Mr. Pharaoh is playing a game with me. If he is who I suspect that's a given; he plays a game with us all, and himself."
"Did either of them mention our other special friends?" Invention asks. "Dr. Amuntaten, specifically."
The resort is soon in view as they come in for a landing.
"They didn't," Tasha replies, spreading her hands in a shrug. "Though I suspect at least Mr. Pharaoh is aware of them. Sam was the only one mentioned. Also," she smiles, "I met Batty, briefly during the party. We talked about some art and shared some common interests, then asked if I needed anyone assassinated, which I declined for the moment."
"She is also a decent spy," Mr. Invention says as the doors open. "I never had the opportunity to actually put the assassination thing to a test."
"I suppose we should be pleased we lack for mortal enemies?" Tasha gathers her small collection of party gifts, then prepares to rise.
Mr. Invention offers his hand, and says, "That remains to be seen. This is still just our first day, and Kaa hasn't gotten really warmed up yet."
Tasha accepts the hand, shuffling her small load to her other hand before doing so. "Maybe we should hire a maternity councilor and legal team?" She rises, exciting with Mr. Invention.
Nothing happens on the way back to the cabin. Gabriel is sitting on one of the couches with Reeka apparently asleep across his lap while he reads his datapad. On the opposite couch is Hakeber, also with Reeka asleep across her lap. Her datapad is next to her, and she's staring off into space and making gestures with her hands.
"How was the party?" Katherine asks, holding a plate with a slice of pizza in it, and a fork and knife. "Any dukes? They must still have dukes."
Tasha accepts the pizza, putting her little gathering of goodies on a nearby table to free her hands all the more. She does take a moment o blink at the two Reekas, but then she's back to Katherine. "Only who may be a god and what might be a secret alien. Oh, and a host of empowered rich and influential types. Gifts, he called them." She cuts herself a slice of pizza, used to using what's handed to her on the fly and not questioning it; it's simply easier that way. "I have been invited to another gathering, this time at the Cathedral."
"That's pretty far inland," Katie notes. "I expected you to have more swag from a party like that. What's in the bottle, perfume?"
"It's for Sam. Also, I'm to pass on love. Both, I assume, are extremely dangerous for anyone who is not Samael, and perhaps for him as well." Tasha reaches over and scoots the vial just a little bit farther from Katie, to emphasize. "And, is it? Far? I'm to attend at night, and soon I suspect, so we may well have to prepare quickly."
"What? What's this about the Cathedral?" Hakeber asks, coming out of her AR session and spilling her Reeka out of her lap. "What happened?"
"A few hundred kilometers I think," Katherine says, and notices Hakeber. "Was that Reeka or Ureeka?"
"What? Doesn't matter," Hakeber says, coming over to Tasha and stealing part of her pizza. "What's happening at the Cathedral?"
Tasha looks at her missing piece of slice, then Hake, then her slice again. She refrains from assassination -- for now. "We have two Reeka now?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "A purple man with cards invited me to the Cathedral after a impressive show of what I presume is magic, but may well be technology."
"Did he have horns and a tail?" Hakeber asks, getting up into Tasha's face this time.
"Reeka coughed up a hairball and it turned into another one of her," Katherine claims. "Or one of them is Sam. I don't really believe anything Reeka says."
"That's a wise choice," Tasha agrees. She glances at the two Reekas again, frowns, then gives a little shake of her head before turning back. "Annnyway, a purple man invited me there after drawing a card. I don't believe he was associated with Mr. Pharaoh -- who is likely a power and quite possibly Sam's power -- and that his invitation is one from a separate party. one that sounds like these phantom natives."
"What did he say exactly, Tasha," Hakeber says and grabs Tasha by the shoulders (but doesn't shake). "It's really important."
Tasha once again regrets being slightly shorter and significantly flimsier. She eats per pizza still, thinking before answering. "He had a strange accent, he was purple, he had horns, I think he had hooves, he brought me in to a shadowy realm where other guests were indistinct like shadows, and he big I draw a card. I did after some consideration, and I got The Key. It's on the table. It shows the Blue Marker. I was then invited to the Cathedral at midnight."
"Oh, and something about a second moon. Meet him beneath the second moon." Tasha's twitch; It means nothing to her.
"Ymir only has one moon!" Hakeber says, and looks excited. She lets go of Tasha and does a little tail-waggy dance that's mostly spinning around in place.
"That's new," Gabriel notes of Hakeber's antics.
"Yeees," Tasha agrees, managing to actually sound haughty despite her attempt at sounding faux-haughty. It might be the dress. She looks to Kathrine and asks, "Do you know what any of this means? And where is Sam? I'd like to pass on this bottle before someone," she glances meaningfully at 'a' Reeka, "tries to drink it."
"Which one is more likely to want to sleep in Gabriel's lap?" Katherine asks in reply.
"Hah! Don't you get it?" Hakeber asks, looking like the wolf that caught the free pizza. "Under the second mooon!"
"I hope it's not Sam. I think Sam's is, or was, in Hake's lap, especially given what she was probably investigating. And Hake's always been more Sam-oriented." She then turns to Hakeber and raises a brow as she nibbles down another bit of her pizza. "There another moon out there, or other celestial body? A vessel, starbase, or other hidden thing they're expecting me to locate and align with the planet?"
"It means my guess is probably right about the Purple Devil," Hakeber claims, then goes back to get her datapad. She brings up an image of the Cathedral, and shows it to Tasha. It's a large bowl-like structure with curved branches reaching up from the edges towards the sky. It's apparently at the top of part of the canopy. It even has a small pond (or lake, scale is not apparent). "So, do you see it now?"
"The reflection in the pond?" Tasha asks after a moment of studying the image. "Although I'm not sure how I'd be 'under' it if I'm above it, unless ... Oh." She nods. "I jump in. No expedition in to the wilderness in my party dress for me, alas."
"This means the devil is a faerie!" Hakeber claims. "Did he say if you need to bring any kind of offerings or gift?"
"I don't think he did. The Card was supposed to be important though. He said I drew 'The Key,' which might just be ... a key." Tasha puts the last bit of pizza in her mouth and nods sagely; it could just be.
"You should bring a pizza," Hakeber says. "They have waterproof boxes for them here. I guess lots of people eat on the water."
"Is this just an excuse for you to eat the pizza along the trip?" Tasha's brows arch.
"Don't be silly!" Hakeber says, giving Tasha a look. "We'll obviously get two pizzas."
"And so our budget dwindles to nothing," Tasha laments. She hands the plate to Katherine so she can gather up her card and her bottle, looking around. "Shall we take a seat?"
There's only one Reeka visible at the moment, on Gabriel's lap. "How much time do we have, Hakeber? I assume the moon has to be overhead?" Katherine asks.
"Plenty of time!" Hakeber says. "Three hours!"
"I will rent a long distant transport," Mr. Invention says. "How many are coming? I assume the invitation is just for Tasha."
"Hake, please share with the class." Tasha is sure /that/ is a Noraisim. She takes a seat on the couch, smoothing her skirt down and crossing her legs. "At least I'll have time to change, unless I shouldn't?" She looks up/
"The moon is a traditional opener of gateways to the other world," Hakeber explains. "Lots of ancient structures were created as calendars, and places for moon rituals. So 'under the second moon' has to mean under the water when the moon is directly overhead. That sort of thing is associated with faeries and devils in mythology. There aren't any crossroads here, but that's the other usual place to meet a faery.. or a devil.. at midnight."
"The being called the Purple Devil is a faery, and not a devil?" Gabriel asks.
"Well, there isn't a clear cut difference in later mythologies," Hakeber admits.
"Well, it'd be nice to meet more of the former than the latter. I already have my fair share of devils and demons." Tasha look to Katherine now and asks, "Katie, would you be a dear and pick out something for my adventure? I need to listen to all of this, and distribute potions."
"Did you bring a bathing suit?" Katie asks as she heads up to the top level bedroom.
"So, is the potion for me?" one of the Reeka's ask, appearing before Tasha and making gimme gestures with her hands.
"I have a gold one and a strappy black number!" The gold one being her old, Titanian-given, swimsuit, and the the black being new and fit to her current body style. The main difference is indeed the 'strapyness' with the original being a standard one piece and the new one having extra, longer, decorative straps around the legs and arms, like the impression of growing waves, and semi-translucent cutouts that work with these lines to create a sense of pattern. It's just as shiny, however, even to the point of being glossy.
To this may-or-may-not-be-Reeka, Tasha replies, "Change form and prove you're Samael." It's said straight, and Tasha's gaze is judging.
And then it's Tasha's little brother again. There's no in-between moment, Sam is just different between eyeblinks.
"I didn't know you could do it that fast." And to be extra-sure, Tasha turns her third eye to inspect this possible Samael. She wouldn't put it past Reeka to cobble together some means of disguise, she was an Titanian ship's crew after all.
It's definitely Sam. Nobody else is that glowing shade of black.
"Here you are then," Tasha says, offering over the bottle before resting her hands in her lap. "Mr. Pharaoh gives his love. I don't know what the bottle contains."
Sam unstoppers the bottle and drinks down the white liquid. And then he's just as tall as Tasha again. The bottle dissolves away into nothing after this.
"Soul in a bottle?" Tasha arches a brow.
"A bit more than just one," Sam admits.
"I had no idea." Tasha realizes she was carrying around souls in a bottle, just like that, as easy as her purse or a slice of pizza. She considers this a moment, but simply nods. "A strange experience, to know that's what I was holding. I suppose this means he think you're doing a good job."
"I can't form the dagger unless I'm at my full strength," Sam notes.
Tasha grins at this. "Rewarded for being too useful to fail? I know how it is." She reaches over and pats his arm, then turns to the others. "Anything exciting happen while I was away? Come to think of it, where's Lacci?"
"She went with Shojo and the new hires out into the wilderness," Sam claims. "I don't think it was for romantic reasons."
"I'm just glad that she hasn't been missing for days and no one noticed. That would be hard to handle for her, for anyone." Relieved, Tasha finally settles in to the couch, siggling and closing her eyes. She hands the card to her tail and refolds her hands. "Sam, is Mr. Pharaoh who I think he is?"
"That depends on who you think he is," Samael says.
"I choose the strappy one," Katie calls down from the uppermost balcony. "It was a hard choice, but if you need to I think you can strangle someone with the strappy one."
"Mostly I wanted to look cute and sexy, leaning towards the latter. Strangling potential was a distant third," Tasha calls back, rising up. To Samale, she whispers, "Thotep," as she passes for the stairs.
"Oh, yes, then definitely," Sam replies.
"Then why wear anything at all?" Katie calls down.
Tasha nods to Samael, but doens't repeat so the others needn't wield the name to their determent. "Because I'm trying to be more modest these days and I don't know their culture!" She calls back.
"Modest but sexy," Hakeber corrects.
"It's important to understand the value of hedging bets and neutrality," Tasha insists. "Besides, it's hard to swim in a dress."
"I'm not too clear on the sexy requirement," Gabriel says. "What aren't you telling us about this purple guy?"
"he seems like someone who likes fun in all its forms, and a bit of a trickster and a con-artists. You know, like myself." Tasha says this while laying a hand over her heart and ducking her heard demurely. "I don't believe he'll appreciate if I am too boring."
"Not possible if you have a pizza," Hakeber claims. "Use it as a bargaining chip."
"You may want to get changed now then, Tasha," Mr. Invention says. "We need to take a taxi to the airfield to get our long-range flyer."
"I feel as though he could acquire a pizza if she chose." But Tasha is moving now, heading upstairs. "I think it's just me again, but if anyone wants to join the ride over, get ready."
The Cathedral is bigger than it looked in the picture. So it's a bit of a walk from the landing area. Samael decided to stay behind, just in case his presence would be objectionable, but the Karnors (and Mr. Invention) all came along. Hakeber even volunteered to carry the offering pizza. It's a bit chilly, and the moon is still a ways from being directly overhead. It's the first time Tasha's really seen a proper moon. It fills quite a bit of the sky, and almost looks natural.
Tasha's fixated on the moon as she walks, wondering at that mix of memories that are Nora's and her own, and the mix of emotions they provide. All Karnors born on Terra have a certain emotional reaction to the moon, the moon as far as most of them are concerned. Be it offense at the cliche that they're connected to it, appreciation for it, artistic sense of its beauty, or any number of other things, all have an opinion due to the old legends and assumptions wolves howl at the moon. Tasha's home world does not have a moon, it has what is left of one, a belt. Still, she can see why so many are fascinated by it. The serene, silent glow, so distant, aloft in the dark, does indeed seem to be something magical, and something she can relate with even as part of her yearns to go there.
"White and grey, good moon colors," Gabriel says. He's the only one to have every seen Terra's moon in person after all. "No visible structures either. Refreshing."
The small lake in the center of the Cathedral is flat as a mirror, with the reflection of the moon still moving across it. "You probably need to wait for it to be over the center," Hakeber says.
"I like it," Tasha decides, still watching as she walks, not entirely sure why except that she'd rather look at it than anything. "It's comforting. A light in the dark, but not harsh. It reminds me a little of all of us."
When Tasha reaches the poolside she pauses, turning her gaze finally and looking down, brows up and arched. "A moon pool. That's the term. Or reflecting pool." With nothing to do but wait, she seats herself down next to the pool to enjoy the night air, the moon, and the sound of leaves rustling through the trees, even if it's tree, and the leaves are enormous.
"So, you need to swim out and.. dive down?" Gabriel asks. "Under the second moon. How long are we supposed to wait for you to come back up?"
"See now you know what dealing with beings like this is like. Who knows. Maybe I'll come back instantly due to temporal displacement or dimensional intersecting -- which are the same things of course -- or maybe I'll enter a stasis field and come back in a thousand years, or yesterday, or who-knows," says Tasha.
"One myth has the mortal fall asleep for forty years while spend just a day in the other realm," Hakeber offers.
Tasha nods to this. She has, after all, traversed time and space, known beings for which either or both mean little. She is aware of the dangers such intersections can bring. "Hopefully that won't be the case," she tries to assure everyone.
As the moon moves further across the lake, Hakeber attaches the pizza box to one of Tasha's wings.
"You shouldn't eat any faery food," Hakeber tells Tasha. "So if you get really hungry, eat whatever pizza is left."
"Thank you for recognizing how useless they are underwater," Tasha offers. No avian will ever feel elegant in the sea, she suspects. Deciding she ought to be leaderly, she then adds, "If I should not return, Gabriel, consider a Counsel," she eyes him knowingly, "to determine who among us should replace me, and if there should be a continuation of our goals. Should you decide we should not continue, please call a vote and discuss splitting up, and deciding if those who would remain would do so in good and earnest effort, that the artifacts we hold are used correctly and safely. Mel can be used as my final marker, if you chose to do that."
"How sad it is I may enter a realm where I can't eat the food," Tasha laments. "Even madness offered edible hors d'oeuvre."
"I'll consider it after draining the lake," Gabriel promises.
The reflection of the moon changes hue, look more purple now. "I think that's the signal that the gateway is open," Hakeber says nervously.
Tasha rises. She takes one last look at everyone, gives them a smile, then turns. Hakeber gets her shoulder squeezed as Tasha walks by, in to the pool. "Here we go then." With one last turn and thumbs up, she dives in to the lake.
"You better come back," Gabriel threatens.
The water gets warmer the further out she gets. And the reflection of the moon isn't acting like one, because she can still see it when she's reached it.
Tasha doesn't answer, because she feels like if she did she'd have to explain herself endlessly and end up crying. After all, she didn't come back. Except she did, through not effort of her own. Any response might be hypocrisy, and insistence require doubtful review. Now she must act, and so the luxury of apology, self-doubt, and pity are too much.
Once she reaches the center, what she assumes is the focal point of whatever power lingers here, she oriented towards the reflected moon and dives for it!
It's about as easy diving down as it usually is.. which isn't very. At some point she has to turn back towards the surface for air. But breaking the surface reveals a different moon. And instead of arching (giant) branches, there is a ring of standing stones around the lake. And a campfire burning on the shore.
Tasha's immediate thought is that the new vista is promising, and her immediate fear is that she has, indeed, ended up in some other time. Determined to figure out which it is, or if it's both, she shakes her hair out a moment and dives back in to the water, making her way towards the distant fire which has been a sign of refuge through ages innumerable.
Once she reaches the shore, Tasha sees Mollymauk lounging next to the fire, roasting marshmallows on a trident.
Tasha walks to the fire and sits herself down to try off, wings fanning out and tail flopping forward. While she enjoys swimming, no avian likes their wings soaked. Once she is comfortable she tilts her head and offers a pleasant but wary smile. "Hello again. No army, no horrors, no battle to the death, so thank you for that."
"Oh, I left the army in my other pants," the odd man claims. "What's that you're wearing?"
"A swim suit. It seemed like the neutral choice," Tasha replies, thumbing one of the straps, which makes a suitably elastic thump once let go. She's also wearing her armbands, which match the swimsuit. "I think it's cute."
"Let's test that," Mollymauk says and hops to his feet, coming over to take a closer look, although he doesn't touch anything. "Fascinating material."
"Modern galactic materials science really is something," she agrees, letting herself be inspected without much concern, but likewise being on alert in case someone gets touchy-feely. Not, she decides, like meeting any new man -- and some women. "I take it this is another world?"
"Perhaps," the purple devil says. "It is certainly a world." He then taps Tasha on the nose. The first sign that something is different is that the pizza box falls to the ground, because her wings are gone. Along with most of the rest of her defining characteristics. She's human again. But the bathing suit stays in place. "Wow, that really is impressive," Mollymauk says. "Not magical at all, too."
Tasha's cry is shrill, surprise mixed with dismay that she's Human again. While she didn't exactly dislike being Human, it came with a great deal of limitations, a sense of missing something, and all the weakness and self doubt a twenty year old Human woman can muster. Once she's done being agast, she "Hmph"s, folding her arms now that she feels more vulnerable suddenly. "I'm glad you find whatever it is to be very impressive. You're speaking of Persephone's work? And is what you did magic?"
"I was speaking about the bathing suit, actually," Mollymauk claims with a grin and a wink. Then he boops Tasha on the nose again (and makes a 'boop' sound) to turn her back.
Tasha rubs her nose. "I guess you prefer Humans then," she observes, checking herself over to make sure she is, indeed, complete. "So simulation, another world, all in my head, all the same thing, and you're not going to tell me? I am used to beings avoiding my answers with riddles," she insists.
"You're asking complicated questions," Mollymauk claims, then snuffs out the fire. After the last body change, Tasha was dry anyway. "Pick up your box and follow me, or not. You want to see what the Key does, though, don't you?"
"I am a sucker for mysterious artifacts and such," Tasha admits, rising to her feet. The part of her who is as she is reminds the part of her who is solely Human she needn't keep her ams wrapped around herself, and so doesn't, instead wrapping them around the pizza box. "And just because few beings answer my complicated questions doesn't mean I'll stop asking."
"Well in that case, follow along!" Mollymauk says, spinning and dancing towards the standing stones. "We're going to a temple."
"How nostalgic," Tasha chimes in, following if not exactly dancing. She hurries after, her recent run in with Thotep and his timeless existence, her new assassin, and other weighty matters pushing her away from joviality.
Moving between the stones puts Tasha into a forest full of giant trees, with no sign of the stones she just passed between. Mollymauk is waiting ahead. "Stick close by now."
Tasha pauses only long enough to examine where she came from, or rather, it's apparent absence. It reminds her greatly of how Thoth said the Vril'ya 'walked between worlds,' which if she were to look at what she did as such, now seems quite possible, even literal. Not having time to consider the matter further, she quickly hurries after, not wanting to be lost on some alien world who-know-how-far from the others.
There are flickers of light amidst the trees. Some even buzz past Tasha close enough to make out tiny glowing humanoid bodies. Her guide seems to looking for a specific spot. "Aha, this one," Mollymauk claims, patting one of the trees. "We'll need to go through together."
Tasha blinks at the tiny glowing person, thinking Reeka would try and chase them, but can't consider them more given the instructions that follow. She hurries to Mollymauk's side and nods. "Together, then."
Putting one hand on Tasha's shoulder, the purple man steps into the tree, and then they're in a building of stone and living wood. There is a fountain with a statue in the center, showing three human women, one very old, one young, and one middle-aged. "Welcome to the temple of Danu-Daniarood," Mollymauk claims. "One of our favorite goddesses."
"Oh," goes Tasha, momentarily taken aback by so many transports, this time in to abeautiful place and the house of a god -- or gods? She takes a moment to orient herself, looking around and taking it all in, and then she nods politely to the statue; I'm sorry for intruding suddenly. Her relations with gods being what they are, she decides it's best to be polite and respectful to deities she knows nothing of, who may be neutral, inclined to being her ally, or else enemies she'd rather not make. "Tell me about her? I feel uncomfortable, entering in to the place of a god and not knowing them. Not that I always can beforehand." She gestures, like now.
"Well, firstly she's not actually here," Mollymauk explains. "Danu is important to us. She's seen here as the Maiden, Mother and Crone, but she has an aspect that is quite different, which is Daniarood, but Danu is our moon goddess of life and death. The other aspect has more to do with the person staying here in the temple. But Daniarood is usually responsible for the development of Humanity."
Tasha absorbs all this, nodding along as she returns to taking in the temple and the statue. "Thank you for telling me. It is not unlikely for me to meet a god, or to happen upon their presence, or be summoned by one. Entities of similar status, servants, and other such beings call upon me as well. I try to be mindful of my relations with all of them, and to be here puts me in mind that I must be respectful and careful, for face enough gods and would not add another needlessly." She returns her gaze fully to her guide, now. "Are we here to meet the person staying here, then?"
"Yes, I very much want to see how they react to your Key," Mollymauk claims, and leads the way around the fountain into another area of the temple.
"Let us hope 'peacefully' is their choice," Tasha remarks as they follow along, hands still clinging to the pizza box. "Given the locale, that seems likely, but it's a vast multiverse."
"Oh, she is a monster most terrible, actually," Mollymauk promises. The next room is open on one side, with a balcony overlooking a forested city of sorts. There's a large shape there, covered in a blanket that looks like a tapestry. "Hey, Genocide! I brought you a guest!" he calls out.
Tasha is immediately struck by the immensity of the wrongness of her guess and, further, how she couldn't see it coming when Thotep chose not to intervene. She can only comfort herself on her good effort to think positively about the universe as she steps forward and cranes her neck to look up at this being called 'Genocide'.
"MOLLY YOU FECKLESS BASTARD," a voice roars from the tapestry covered lump. "I TOLD YOU NEVER TO CALL ME THAT!"
The purple man, ducks back through the archway and grins to Tasha. "True, she hates it when I call her by any titles." Then he pokes his head back towards the lump and says, "I have pizza!"
After a pause, a much softer (if somewhat hollow sounding) voice replies, "Molly, you do know that you are my favorite feckless bastard, don't you? It better not have pineapple on it though."
It all feels like a familiar enough exchange to Tasha, if in a very unfamiliar place who-knows-how-far-away from the people for whom it is familiar for her. She looks back, then forth, then back, then forward again, not wanting to interrupt. When it seems like the excahnge is done for the moment, she adds, "I'm here too," in a somewhat absent, bemused manner, "but I'm not on the menu."
"Oh yes, the pizza delivery girl has something else for you too," Molly helpfully offers, and starts gesturing to Tasha to go on ahead.
"Root beer?" the lump asks.
"I have the key," Tasha announces with deep and serious intonation before laying the pizza at the lump's blanket base. She steps back, holding her hands in front of her, left grasping the right's wrist. "No root beer."
"Regular beer? I don't need a key to open bottles." The tapestry shifts and a blue-scaled head pokes out at Tasha. There's a definite family resemblance to Persephone, even though this visage is purely flesh and blood (presumably). Green eyes seem to measure Tasha. "I've never seen a lupogriff before," the dragon notes. She's smaller than Persephone was. "Open the box please, just in case you're another Unseelie assassin. Or.. you know.. some other assassin."
Tasha's gaze lingers for a long time before she moves, her muzzle pursing and ears perking, if ever so slightly. Then she moves, turning the box and lifting the lid. She even steps forward and offers the contents with both hands, and with it held off, she's back to that considering, examining study.
Nostrils flare to take in the aroma. "Mmmm. Synthetic meat, but I used to grow meat in mushrooms in a pinch." A claw reaches out to begin dragging the box towards the shadowy depths of the tapestry, when the dragon asks, "What world did you come from?"
Tasha opens her mouth to answer, but in that moment her sense of origin reflects the uncertainty of her own recreation. Like ripples in a pond, the uncertainty spreads through her mind and how she associates with where she's been and who she is, making her slow to answer. "Many places," she offers at last, "Sinai, once. Perhaps from the Halo. The world I left is called Ymir. I don't know how my travel intersects this place pan-temporally nor multiversally."
"Ymir.. oh, isn't that where Molly likes to cause trouble?" the dragon asks, but that last bit was clearly aimed at the purple demon guy, who makes a 'who me?' gesture to himself. "He'd better give you a big tip. The fey have no concept of how to properly make a pizza."
"Neither do you, or you wouldn't be bitching about it so often," Molly retorts.
The dragon rolls her eyes and makes a quiet meh-meh-meh-meh sound with her mouth.
"So he's really a fairy?" Tasha looks back, that same evaluating gaze. "I wasn't sure if your kind was real or an invention of the current sentients. You know, a lot about mythology isn't what they think." She looks back again and adds, "And neither of you have tipped me."
"I left my pile of gold in my other pants," the dragon claims. "Molly can give you something that hopefully isn't contagious. And yes, he's a fairy. For the most part. The fairy realms are.. scattershot to be honest, with some new ones popping up and others fading back into the Unformed when everyone moves on. And this temple is also Dreamlands adjacent. As if Daniarood ever actually cared about being worshipped by fairies or anyone else."
Tasha absorbs that, placing it in that ever lengthening hallway of mind where all her deific and supernatural knowledge goes. It's becoming quite a library. "Is she what he claims? A deity? In the sense that she's not something else and that she happens to be declared one by those who don't understand her or make assumptions?" It's said in a very scholarly manner, matter-of-fact.
"She's a callous old bitch that meddles with species just to test out ideas, then abandoning them after she's learned what she wanted," the dragon says, before sticking her snout into the pizza box and scarfing the pie down in a single noisy moment. "Never trust an immortal that's been alone for too long kid."
"Don't listen to her Tasha," Mollymauk advises. "She's a callous old bitch that's been alone for too long."
"I know the type," Tasha sympathizes, refolding her hands. "Although 'a long time' would need better definition. A thousand years? A million? Beyond the concept of time's dimension?" Her head tilts. "Is she a statue or burning fire? A moon-sized whale?"
"I feel like we have some things in common though," Tasha tells 'Molly' gesturing to the presumably old dragon. "Serious opinions about immortals, love of pizza, appreciation for dragonlings, and occasional bitchiness."
"Daniarood is just a dragon, just like me," the dragon admits. "Or I'm just like her. But much nicer, despite what Molly says."
"Ol' Genocide here doesn't really like deities," Molly stage-whispers to Tasha.
"You don't seem that bad to me, no worse than any of the dragons I know anyway," Tasha admits as she walks back over and, hands folded behind her back, bends over to get another look at the dragoness, marveling at the resemblance. She wonders at the temporarily of it; is she in Persephone's past? Future? Contemporary with her? Is this her child, or the species she adopted her remotes from?
At the whisper she further admits, "I work with them a lot, mostly the took-on-the-role-types, but some of the universal powers. Beings like statutes filled with fire. Great whale-like beings who may rightly be gods themselves. Beings like Mr. Yellow and Mr. Black, who represent madness."
"Is this Daniarood made of crystal, by any chance?" Tasha then adds, after a moment of further consideration.
"Crystal? No... why would you ask that?" the dragoness asks, sounding suspicious. She actually sits up then, keeping the tapestry wrapped around her. Even for a 'small' dragon that still her puts her head seven feet off the ground.
This makes Tasha look up, which seems to be a more common activity these days as she is also slightly shorter, at Hakeber-height, much to her chagrin. "Oh, well I know a dragon made of crystal. And a little one, not made of crystal. But they're not really entirely themselves, you could say?" Her wings, then tail, shrug.
"I don't like it when people sneak around the subject," the dragon growls.
"Show her the key," Molly prompts Tasha.
This makes Tasha laugh out loud, her eyes lighting up as she lays a hand over her chest. "You do deal with gods, don't you? Or had -- significantly." She laughs a little longer, deeply amused to feel the heat and annoyance aimed at her, for once, rather than from her. She then reaches out, like she's going to put her hand on -- then in -- the dragon's nose and pulls her hand back, holding it upright, then opening. "This."
The dragon recoils.. but that could be because she needs to see what it is Tasha pulled out. She eyes the marker with a suddenly blank expression, before calmly asking, "Where did you get that?"
"It's from me. It's part of my soul. My creator ... " Tasha pauses, still uncertain of exactly how to describe Persephone. Creator? Recreator? Mother? Third mother? Designer? Patron? She goes with the more fundamentally correct choice, but doesn't find herself attached to it. "My recreator gave it to me. I collect them. Markers. She thinks it's funny, but it is also my guide, and a weapon."
"Could you be less vague, especially when brandishing something you say is a weapon in someone's face?" the dragon requests, with a bit more chill in her voice this time.
Mollymauk has retreated back out into the atrium, and is watching around the edge of the archway.
"I'm sorry," Tasha offers, lowering the Marker and holding it in both hands, held to her chest. "I think I've become accustomed to the casual presence of doomsday devices. I fight gods and demons, you see. The weapon is for a certain group of deities I am tasked with annhiliating, but I've used others." She tilts her head, thinking, deciding perhaps she might be spend g too much time in the presence of the ineffable and so has become a bit so herself, and says, "I died fighting a great demon deep in the flatness -- that is the depth of space between galaxies where there are no stars -- and was revived by the being whom I tried to protect. But he could not piece me together, and so I was revived again by his mother after the battle was won, when she arrived late. His mother calls herself Persephone, she is one of the whale-like beings, unbound by time and with the power of a god. It is hard for me to explain my relationship to her, because I haven't come to understand it myself. It isn't easy explaining someone who once held your soul, piecing you back together from destruction. Now she is like my guardian or guide, and I also work with their great old one, the being known as the Null, the sentient edge of oblivion."
The dragon may as well be a statue. But she does hold her hand out, palm up.
"You can't keep it, but you may hold it. It is not there, but you may hold it." And so Tasha pulls it away from resting over her heart, to place it in the dragon's paws.
The claws curl in to hold the marker, and a green glow comes from under the tapestry as the dragon closes her eyes. "Sifting timelines gives me a headache," she mutters. But it seems to only take a moment. When she opens her paw the marker has changed slightly: the sigil floating within has changed from a trisected circle to a circle with three comma-like intertwined shapes instead. "So, my granddaughter hasn't outgrown pulling tails from fires," the dragon says. "But I still owe her a favor from the last time it was my tail. Although this is from an encounter before the cannon was completed. It's hard enough keeping track of all the other versions of myself, you know."
Tasha's reacts to the knowledge she is probably dealing with another remote only slightly, at least outwardly. Her brows go up and her tail twitches. Inside, she begins connecting things, rearranging the frame in which she sees the being before her. "I haven't had to deal with that myself," she admits, but then corrects, " ... except once." And does not elaborate. "But I have experienced enough pan-temporal travel to know it gives me a headache, too, even if I find it interesting."
Offering the marker back, the dragon says, "Well, Sephy thinks you need an advisor apparently. One with relevant experience. So, which group of gods are you trying to snuff?"
Tasha holds the marker to her chest again, over her heart, and then lets it go. Her hands are empty when they fall. "The Ogdoad. I am also helped," her expression goes wry, " ... by Thotep and," she glances back at Molly, frowns, and steps forward to whisper, "Hastur, who has an ongoing claim on me I would like to resolve." Another pause, another addition. "Honorably."
"Oh, mister 'brain like a bag of dicks' and mister 'brain like a bag of assholes'. Don't try to figure out which is which in that metaphor, it applies to both of them. And you would be from one of those realities. So, are the Ogdoad active, being summoned, or waiting for the stars to be right or some other weird condition? And between Nyarlathotep and Hastur, which one has a tub of popcorn ready?"
"I'm aware they're not pleasant entities," Tasha acknowledges without rancor, simply as a matter of fact. She then reaches up to tap her chin, thinking again, and answers, "The Ogdoad are, as of my timeline positionand, I believe, due to their pantemporality, and their own timeline such as that is, trapped in a holding facility on a world within the gravitation field Sagittarius A* at the center of my home galaxy. They were trapped there by the Sifra, who are their creation and who rebeled, using an unknown method. The Sifra's power has weakened considerably due to intervention by the Vril'ya, but as the Sifra are also a threat to all other sentient life beyond a certain development, they are not exactly allies and we are grateful for that intervention. From what one of the Ogdoad's servants told me, it predicts three futures, one where the Ogdoad are freed, the Sifra recover, or a third. The Ogdoad are aware of me."
"Tssss," the dragon hisses. "How many immortal warriors have you got in your army right now?" she then asks.
"As for which of the deities has popcorn, I don't know. Thotep ... Nyrrralothep?" Tasha tries the word, but finds it hard to pronounce with her canine muzzle; she suspects her Human version would have it far easier. "Is always scheming, and has handed my the Dagger of Eibon and its hilt for my use. Hastur directs me more ... directly. I am currently tasked with destroying a Ogdru'hem held in a space station, for example." She considers the next question, counting mentally, and answers, "Three, one elder civilization, a number of mortals, AIs including one Titan constructed by the Vril'ya, and the Dagger which houses Tatha'hem."
"That.. isn't much," the dragon notes. "You're immortal yourself though, right?"
Tasha considers this, looking down at herself, then up again. "I wasn't before," she admits, her hands spreading. "I might be now? I haven't been in a hurry to test it."
"Ah, so that's what 'key' meant then," the dragon sighs. "Alright, before doing anything else, you need to have your soul armored. Persephone gave us the key to it. It just needs to be.. sort of.. encrypted. I didn't know about that vulnerability myself when I started out. And I was only destroying.. small.. gods at first, and I did have army. The second batch of gods were much worse and had their own armored universe to hide in. You only need to deal with a few of them though. Ogdru-hem.. I think those aren't the brightest of eldritch abominations at least."
"Maybe I'll keep going after they're dealt with. I'm not sure what to do with myself after coming this far," Tasha admits, and because she's tired of looking up, settles right there on the ground and lays her hands across her lap, legs tucked. Once comfortable, she looks around and asks, "How does soul armoring work? Is it a method to prevent their corruption and control? Their feeding?"
The dragon flops back down onto her belly to be more eye-to-eye. "It works the same as a walnut," the dragon claims. "Or maybe a coconut. Actually, forget that, poor metaphor. Armoring works like armor. To get at the chewey bits you have pry it off, or make the knight take it off, which.. doesn't apply, because you can't take it off. It makes you very hard to eat or control or in some cases hard to detect. If you were paranoid like me you'd go with active armor, for the control it gives you. Otherwise you go passive and let someone else you trust gird you. Do you know any magic?"
"I only know of magic. The kind your species uses, that is what Thoth calls Wizardry, the fundamental manipulation of reality through advance science and mathematics, sorcery, the use of exotic rule sets from beyond to circumvent local rules, and Thoth mentioned a possible third that could let me manipulate reality without either method. We had just begun apprenticeship when I arrived here. Samael, likewise, has offered to teach me." She sees the dragon flopped, and so feeling the mood, also flops on her belly and rolls slightly so she can look up comfortably. A blanket sounds nice. "I've mostly relied on cunning and exotic weapons to win, so ensorcelled devices, wizardly devices, and more rarely mortal devices."
"Alright, I was a thousand years old before I learned about magic," the dragon claims. "Frankly, if you aren't born a magical fairy princess bastard or need it in order to digest dairy, you're better off without it. I've learned a few bits of fey magic and developed my own personal flavor, but I don't like actually using it much. But you still need to defend against it."
"I resemble that remark!" Mollymauk claims.
"It seems fun. I always wanted to try being a Phin," Tasha says of magic. Then, no less seriously, but more responsibly, adds, "But I understand how dangerous it is, as it utilizes the soul." She glances back at Molly and is completely unsurprised by his shenanigans; she would have been surprised if he hadn't. "He turned me back in to a Human briefly," she doesn't exactly grump.
"Back? You were a Human before?" the dragon asks, squinting at Tasha.
"When I died and was broken in to pieces, Charon couldn't figure me out and revived me in parts. The Human part is what I remember most, probably because it's the only sentient part. It was ... " Tasha hesitates, tracing a circle in the dust on the ground with her right hand's pointer finger, "Frustrating. Now I think it's all part of me, so now I'm Human and what I am. Sometimes I remember how she thinks or acts, or feel that way."
"I think I'm more shy now, and more calm. I don't know if that's from being Human, or from death, or all of these things and more besides," Tasha then adds.
"Death brings on many changes," the dragoness says. "I think that was a from a theme song from a TV show about a war that ran for longer than the war did. Or maybe it was from the movie? But I know firsthand how death can be a tool for self actualization. Still sucks though. And Charon means well.. at least he's moved up from playing with zombies. Molly!"
"What? I'm right here, you don't have to shout," the apparently-an-elf says.
"Who do I still trust who can do hardening?" the dragon asks. "How about Mab? Am I still in good with her?"
"Queen Mab was overthrown a year after you quit as her military advisor," Molly notes.
"So, she's a maybe," the dragon concedes. "How about Merlin? I remember being on good terms with Merlin."
"I like him," Tasha says of Charon, looking up as he's talked about. "I hope he's still doing well. It's hard to love something you barely understand and know you can't help or walk with farther than you have, but it would have changed me."
That said, Tasha quiets to listen to the exchange as the responsibility of managing her is tossed back and forth.
"Nobody's heard from him in forever," Molly claims.
Claws clack on the marble floor as the dragon thinks. "Satan?" she asks.
"Retired," Molly replies.
"Well.. surely there is someone trustworthy and responsible somewhere in Underhill, Tir-na-Nog or the Dreamlands that doesn't know who I am?" the dragon asks.
Tasha's mental gears turn at Satan and she asks, "Is he the same as Lucifer who is the same as Ahriman?"
"Those are three different people that just get munged together by lazy theologians," the dragon claims.
"You are still ranked as the eighth most dangerous entity in the cosmos after the whole 'destroy a universe of jerks because they were being jerks' thing," Molly points out.
"Are they? The Vril'ya Ahriman was Ahriman, Progenitor of the Naga, at least for a time. Thoth was Hermes. He has suggested I become the next Hermes, but I don't know." The young woman shrugs with her hands. "I don't know magic and Hermes has elements I don't."
"Hermes.. magic? Wait.. Hermes Trismegistus?" the dragon asks.
Tasha also considers the ranking system. "By cosmos do you mean one reality or all of them?" It's an important distinction. She then looks up again at the question. "Yes, that one. Grumpy, a little sour, bird head, made of orange fire, non-pettable staff."
"Holy crap, Tweal? Does he still have the ibis head or is he using a vulture head or something broody now?" the dragon asks.
"Cosmos is a general reference for all realities, although the rankings are generally only applied to the ones the Seelie Court cares about," Molly explains.
"I don't know that name," Tasha says of Tweal, "But if that is him he uses the ibis head. And motor, camera eyes. Sometimes we call him Mr. Eyes. I managed to recruit him to our cause, but he's difficult to know." She then nods to the new information. "I see. I know your kind are powerful. I almost destroyed my own reality when Charon let me be the brain of a giant space monster." She hesitates, then adds, "It's a shame I only got to do so when I had to fight."
And then something occurs to Tasha. "Did you say 'cannon' earlier?"
"Sort of a cannon, but also a bit of a pneumatic hammer," the dragon says, waving a paw. "Like I said, the second batch of gods I had to deal with had their own armored reality that used to be a prison. I had.. reasons.. to crack it open and destroy them. The Stelya'rhyan actually helped me when I asked that time. Usually it was only ever Sephy that helped me out."
"Your children are why you ended up on the list in the first place you know," Mollymauk says. "Wiping out the Molreyekarin wasn't even Top Ten worthy."
"Are you not a Stelya'rhyan then?" Tasha perks up at this, not having considered there could be another layer above, to the side, or off in some other direction. "It sounds like you've been very busy. I'd ask if I'm bothering you, but I am aware of the difference in our cognition and this is probably a tiny fraction created for our exchanges."
"Like I care about some twisted popularity contest," the dragon mutters. "But.. that does bring up something. You don't have an army to work with, but Ogdru-hem - pretty sure that means 'the hidden tool' or 'the hidden slave' or 'the hidden poison' or something - tend to be 'dug in' which means you'll have to plan on collateral damage."
"I'm mostly retired, for mental health reasons," the dragon claims. "I'm not above the Stelya'rhyan, but I am their mother. I don't have that sort of power. I've mostly won by being a little smarter, more ruthless and more manipulative than my enemies."
"There are always costs and prices, but I can't fathom what a pantheon of gods could inflict. Most of what I use and what I engage in is not apparent to me before, and often, after, in effect nor consequence. I am not so high a being as to know these things and my resources are limited." Tasha reaches up and taps her chest over her heart. "I do what I can. I suppose I am like a virus with a very sharp knife and little viruses that help me. Maybe a bacteria?" She considers this a moment. "If you include my children, maybe a bacteria or virus more accurately." But she inclines her head. "Matching what you have isn't likely to work for me."
But what the dragon said linger sin Tasha. "You're their mother?"
"The important thing is that you don't repeat my mistakes," the dragon says, looking and sounding more serious. "Your enemy isn't going to play fair, and won't be concerned about innocent casualties. I started out taking single opponents, since the Molreyekarin hate each other and so always went their own way. But they also prey on each other, so the ones that were left were harder and harder to deal with, and worst of them was nearly impossible to take down. We chased him across a hundred worlds, losing more of our forces in each battle. In the end we had to sacrifice a world to trap him. Hmm? Yes, I literally gave birth to the first of them, Nicor and Kraken. They did a lot of growing after that."
"Oh." Tasha's eyes are wide now. "How very ... " She struggles with expressing the immensity of it, and how far she's traveled. Even now, she still discovers new things that maker her feel small, like staring up in to the sky, or Nora's memories, or any other step, all over again. Another rung in the ladder, ever upward. "Historic," she finishes, albeit awkwardly. "Then are you not the remote of a large space fairing whale-like body?" Se blinks. "I may be off track, but I am still an explorer even if I am also a slayer."
"I'm just what you see here," the dragon says. "Behold, the only bootstrapped immortal of a dragon that other dragons don't even consider to be a true dragon. So yeah, you don't have to be big and powerful to get things done."
"Dragons can be very clique-ish," Molly says with an exaggerated sigh.
"That's reassuring. I like that, and you for it," Tasha smiles, though like her action, she seems a little distant even as she is equally precise. "The dragons I met were mostly dead, as in ghosts, or about to be dead, as in Charon. I have been called a dragon slayer, but I have never fought a dragon, and usually we get along well enough. Charon's remote is very endearing." She exhales; too endearing in some ways. Like Nora and Mariel, some obsessive affections never do seem to fade in her. "You boostrapped yourself to immortality? Or dragonhood? Both?"
"It's.. well, it all goes back to Daniarood, the first immortal being on Terra in most realities," the dragon says, sighing a bit. "She didn't start out intelligent though. She evolved, over time, but by the time she realized what she was, it was too late to remember how she became what she was. Back then, were just scaly animals that survived the extinction of most other scaly animals. Daniarood decided she didn't want to be the only immortal being, so started breeding her own kind for longevity. Her own children were the start of the bloodline, but.. it's hard to keep track of a growing population, and obedience was a problem. So she decided to see if you could breed for obedience. Specifically, obedience to her. So you used a human ancestor called Homo Erectus as her lab animals. And that is why Human brains are hardwired with the concepts of gods and dragons. And so she then turned around and applied the same techniques to her own kind."
"In the Vril-ya versions, she probably watched what Eve did with the First Humans and got even more ideas."
"So.. uh, long story short, every few generations she'd test some candidates to destruction, until she wove the bloodlines together again and got my half-brother and myself, and we survived her first.. experiments. And kept on surviving, despite it mostly being torture, drugs, and controlled death and revival conditioning. I think she originally thought you could just build up an immunity to death if you survived it enough."
Tasha considers all this and immediately draws connections to he own potential, specifically her potential as a mother and what generations of her selves might do, and what she might do and expect of them. She saw it in the Vril'ya and she sees it now, like looking in to the Hall of Souls, but reverse, a speculative endless gallery of future selves and their equally endless branches they could take. It makes her sit up with a start, sucking in a breth through her nose, leaving her wide-eyed. "That's very unsettling in many ways." She bites her lip, then adds, "But I can see a little of why she would do it."
"Anyway.. yadda-yadda, she got her immortals, then decided she didn't want her dragons having to share the planet anymore so hey, why not just get rid of the humans and their weird 'culture' and 'civilization' and stuff. So instead we created the Stelya'rhyan, built a new world and moved out kind to it to live out a pampered existence with their three living gods to take care of everything," the dragon notes. "Then things when bad for me and my brother and.. I ended up telling my god off and leaving to look for something better, ran into yahoos like Molly, got involved in a war against the Molreyekarin and.. was supposed to die on the trap world after bringing down Vorgulremik, but Sephy came and rescued me back then. Eventually I had to go back though, to witness the last generation of the local sapients die because of what we'd done to that world. So, that's how I got the name Genocide."
"Basically, I was were you are now after a fashion, and I know what you're going to deal with," the dragon says.
"It's hard," Tasha agrees, sounding plainly sad as she returns to drawing figures in the dust. "I once had to slaughter an entire colony of what might have been the last Berserkers in our reality. They were not, but then I killed the others as well, so maybe I still killed them all. Berserkers are organic-derived unshackled AI, but I have no inherent dislike of AI nor wish for their destruction, some of my friends are AI, but they were dangerous and so they had to go." She pauses in her drawing, frowns, then resumes again as a thought passes. "I'm glad you're here to help me. Thank you." She doens't look up exactly, but her tail does wag and her wings dip along with her body, respectfully.
"I'm sorry to say it will get worse," the dragon says. "The problem with fighting gods is that they will have followers, willing or unwilling. Even if you try to avoid fighting them, they will not avoid fighting with you. And even if this fight isn't personal to you now, it will be before the end. There's no line in the sand you can draw that you will not have to cross at some point. And the very worst of it.. the thing that you alone will have to fight yourself over.. is that every time you take out one of these things, you run the risk of replacing it. You're going to have to sacrifice people, even people you think are better than you are. I supposed Sephy probably gave you that whole spiel about the trinity of leadership?"
"Yes, she said I needed to stop doing everything myself." Tasha taps the ground, knowing the reason but still finding it hard to admit. "It's clear I was doing too much, and unqualified for it, but I feared and still fear someone else being hurt because of me. I would rather fight alone, but I can't. I feel like the others don't understand what they are up against, and that is possibly my fault for keeping things to myself. As for killing the followers ... " Tasha looks up now, clear eyed, wide-eyed, meeting the dragon's gaze. "I am ashamed to say killing does not always bother me. In previous battles, I've found an anger or fury that let me destroy and keep destroying, a kind of hunger. It's hard to explain. I think it's something like hatred. And i know it's still there, because even my Human self has it. I worry the others will fear me because of it, but I also think it lets me fight beyond mercy, or fear, or what-else may be, as it has in the past. I worry they'll see that side of me. I worry about a lot."
Tasha lifts her hands off the ground and looks at them, flexing her fingers, some ghost of her battle with the Abaddon construct. "I don't know how close I am to what I fight. I have been aware that I am willing to destroy a great deal to protect the small few I care about. I am not a believer in the greater good, or for the many, at any cost. I think there's little point to sacrificing what you love for a mass of strangers or enemies. But, I still feel driven to try and protect these when I can."
"I've been in all three of the roles," the dragon says. "I started as the Heart do not dare laughing Molly and there are costs to that. Then circumstances forced me to be the Heart and the Hand at the same time, when I wasn't in any condition to be either, and that broke me. And then I was the Will, the role I always resented, but it takes the biggest toll on you for the reasons you just pointed out. You can't think of yourself as a person, almost. What you want, what anyone you direct wants.. it doesn't matter when you're the Will. You're just as much a pawn as the rest, and everything will come back on you eventually. You will need that focus on just the things that matter to you. And if your loved ones come to see you as a monster, you just accept that, so long as they are alright. And so long as they do what you tell them. But you'll hate yourself, I'm not going to lie about that. If you can accept your own hate, you can accept the hate of others too."
For reasons Tasha does not fully understand, the advice brings her to smile. It's slow to come, but by the end, she's smiling a quiet smile and blinking something back that never ends up forming. And she nods, sitting up to stare off in to the ruins, not really seeing them or anything. "'If I can accept my own self-hate, I can accept the hate of others.'" She had fought herself so many times when she started out, literally, figuratively, by proxy, yet somewhere along the lines she just sort of stopped. The self-hate is still there. now and then, and it almost destroyed her completely in the Halo, but for the most part she absorbed it. The Halo mistake she'll have to learn from, put her hoof down on to others and herself, but she can see in the advice how far she's come and this makes her feel more capable than she had felt.
"I started at the Will. I knew that being the Heart suited me most, but by forcing one of the others to become the Will, I knew I was avoiding responsibility and sentencing them to what you just described. So I do understand." This sounds like it surprises her. "For Katie it meant making her my puppet. For Gabriel, an incompatbility and knowledge I was thrusting his weakness where it would be most pressed. It could only be me. I have since expanded the roster and changed the role names. Now I am the Soul, the core of everything and from which all expands from, but I can do little myself. All comes on to me, extends from me. I am still the Will, but I recognize my planning and experience problems."
"Good, that's a firm base to start from," the dragon says. "There is one thing though: my assistance is not free. But the price for it isn't something you'll find onerous."
Tasha laughs at this, too. She turns to face the dragon again, brows arching. "I'm not a stranger to gifts coming with conditions and obligations, you'll remember I treat with Thotep and Mr. Yellow. I suspect you'll be less ominious as a patron, at least."
The dragon smiles. "My price is this: you will notify me immediately of any an all interactions with Null. And you will never mention Null, nor me, to either 'Mr. Yellow' or 'Mr. Black' or their agents."
"Hmm," goes Tasha, who frowns. She thinks long and hard, ultimately admitting, "I don't believe I mentioned the Null directly, but at least one agent of Thotep is aware of it because its own action brought us in the Null's proximity. Use of the Dagger of Eiban causes causality faults, which bring beings to the horizon of annihilation. That's where I first encountered the Null. I forget who mentioned it to me, but I believe it may ahve been Samael of Thoth. It is possible, even likely, Samael and therefore Thotep knows, and Mr. yellow may as well, because at that point I hadn't met your descendants and the Null was one more entity among many."
"So, you haven't had any direct interaction then?" the dragon asks, ears perked.
"With Thotep or Mr. Yellow asking me directly? No. Or if you mean the Null, I'm uncrtain what a direct interaction with it would even be given its nature; my interaction was the sense of a presence, something judging me and only me because no one else felt it. There was terrible cold and vacuum, and every one of the mortal crew went unconscious due to vacuum shock. But, I know I felt a presence. That I alone felt it seems to mean something, or perhaps it's a product of the spore." Tasha pushes her hair back, touching her forehead. "Persephone took the Ogdru'hem memory spore and made it permanent and part of me, under my control. It had allowed me to contact beings I otherwise could not have."
"So, no, you haven't been in contact," the dragon says. "If Null talks to you, you will know it. And then you will tell me. Is that something you can promise me?"
"If you don't mind me admitting I may not be able to fend off the force of a greater entity trying to take the information from me or threatening to take something I will not sacrifice, I will do whatever I can to avoid revealing this information," Tasha offers, hands spread. "Death has made me feel my limitations and how easily I can be destroyed. It would be foolish for me not to extend that awareness to what else may be taken from me."
"The information would only matter to me anyway," the dragon claims. "Also, you will bring donuts next time. And you can tell Tweal that Kainudy says hello. Other than that.. I will contact you via the 'Marker' when I've found someone to perform the armoring of your soul."
"I can agree to this then." Tasha reaches over and touches her left arm unit, making a little note with the smaller requests, then shutting the unit back down and returning her gaze to the dragon. "Was there anything else? I have more questions, but I feel like we've spoken a while now and I don't want to worry the people waiting for me. Again."
"The link goes both ways," the dragon explains. "You can contact me through the Marker as well when you need to."
"Do I need to have three people? That will make covert contact more difficult, unless I use my cats and they don't pay attention to anything very long." Tasha sits up now, preraing to depart, but not quite there yet.
"What? No, I'm not bound by any of that stuff," the dragon claims. "That's why I changed the sigil. Now it matches this one.." She finally sheds the tapestry and holds it up. The circle is there, but each of the comma shapes is a curled up dragon: one gold, one blue and one red.
"It's a little cute," Tasha admires, smiling. "I don't mind more cuteness in my life. It makes the horrible things less so. Or, the same so, but buffered and reduced in that way. It reminds me why I'm fighting and why I am not simply gathering whom I love and exiting our reality."
"Yes.. well, I am cute," the dragon says, and glares at Molly as if daring him to claim otherwise. "At least compared 'Thotep and Hastur. And Thoth."
"I can deny none of these claims," Tasha agrees. She keeps smiling, then scoots over to try and pat the dragon, because the echo of Charon, Persephone, and the cute tapestry compels her to do so.
"Next you can brush my mane if you want," the dragon offers. "Molly keeps dying the tips to annoy me."
"I would like that," Tasha says, scooting over and looking ready to be handed a comb. "Death has also taught me to appreciate the moment more, the places, and the people. I didn't realize it until I walked with Molly through the forest and the little people passed me by too quick to really see them, nor where I was."
"Pixies? You didn't let them drink any of your blood did you?" the dragon says, and produces the sort of brush Tasha has seen Rhians use. She's got a shiny golden mane to work with. "Molly, take her back a safe route this time?"
"Yes, safe is good. There's precious little enough of it it shouldn't be squandered." Tasha settles down beside the dragon , examines the comb, and then leans forward to begin brushing. She's brushed Rhians before -- and her own tail back when her tail resembled a Rhian's more than a monkey-dog -- and so she knows her way around this sort of brush at least. "We can depart when I'm done here."
The moon is no longer overhead when Tasha emerges from the lake again. The air is cool and she no longer has a fairy available to instantly dry her. This alone is enough to confirm that she's back in her own familiar reality again. She's also facing the wrong direction when she surfaces, and has to turn a few times before spotting the glow of a camp heater where people are waiting for her to return.
Glad she brought her swimsuit and it's nice, modern materials, Tasha gets to paddling as she makes her way back to shore. Even in this form swimming isn't easy; avians and hoofed mammals are rarely compatible with water, but she makes her way as best she can, as she always has.
After reaching shore she shakes her body out, pushes back her hair, and approaches the group.
Hakeber hops to her feet and immediately challenges Tasha, holding up a paw and everything. "Halt!" she barks. "You have to prove to us that you aren't a changeling sent to replace Tasha!"
"I can still beat you up Hake, and where's my pizza." She looks back and shakes her wings out again, tail flicking this way and that.
"I'm not sure the real Tasha would try to fight me for the last slice of pizza," Hakeber claims, squinting at Tasha. "Or would think there'd still be some left. She had a whole pizza with her! What happened to it?"
"I'm pretty sure nobody would want to take over Tasha's life," Gabriel notes. "Too dangerous."
"We can give her a thorough examination back at the cabin," Katie suggests.
"The ancient gods and faeries wanted it. As a great leader, I must think of my mission first and myself second." Tasha ignores the halting gesture and sits herself down by the fire anyway. Once down, she nods to Gabriel. "See? Gabriel knows." She lays down on her side where he stretched out body can absorb the most of the heat, highest wing spreading to dry out. "But I like Katie's idea better."
"Once you're dry," Katie adds. "Ancient gods want pizza?"
"Why are there never any new gods?" Gabriel asks.
"Tatha-hem likes tacos," Tasha points out, reasonably. She looks to Gabriel and answers, "Because there's a long time to be ancient, but such a tiny little to be new."
"We suspect she likes tacos," Hakeber counters. "She's been locked away for millions of years. Unless tacos are some sort of memetic food that appears over and over."
"She asks for them by name. Fish tacos. She must have drawn it from me somehow." Tasha settles her head down on her hands, listening to the breeze, the night animals, the many sounds of a living world. She exhales, eyes closing. "I'll just get to it directly now. The being I spoke with wanted to talk to me about what I'm doing. It is curious about how I intend to go about this war, for war it is, what resources I possess, and gave advice from it's own experiences and burdens. We are not the only ones to have fought being likes this, and it made it clear to me that our road will be difficult and that we it will get worse before it's over. The gods and their followers will not stand idle as we cut them down."
"That doesn't sound like anything we didn't already expect," Gabriel notes, and scratches his nose. "Did it give you anything we can actually act on?"
"It any others it is allied with may provide advice from time to time. It asked how many immortals our army contains and informed me it was 'not much'. It also has an idea about how to shield my soul from external influence, which I have agreed to. The being is currently investigating what power can accomplish this and is trustworthy." Tasha sits up only to lay on her opposite side, opposite wing reaching up and fanning to now dry off. "I'll admit I'm worried. Our army really is meager, our weapons are provided by equally dangerous powers, and many of us aren't well suited to facing these dangers. Sorry, Hake." She gives her friend an apologetic smile. "And, well, few of us are powerful immortals."
Tasha draws in another breath, eyes closing again. She holds it a moment and then continues. "Out of everyone here, only Gabriel has ever seen me let go in a fight. Hake's seen my anger, but it's nothing compared to what I can do with weapons at my side. What's more, I'm unwilling to risk you all when I could potentially draw upon the greater resources of Galactic space. So there are three items I'd like to clear up now: One, I value our family here more than that of strangers. If you see me as sacrificing for the greater good or the universe's people, that's only secondary for me. Two, I can be vicious. Three, I am now seriously considering leveraging out special resources to gain a greater army."
"What special resources do we have that is worth an army?" Katie asks. "I don't know if the modern Karnors would do whatever we asked just because they're technically programmed to."
Tasha counts off on her left hand. "You mentioned one, we can try and use your influence to recruit Karnors. We can consult with Lacci to see about recruiting clans. Thoth, the Niss, and our other immortals may have contacts, resources, or lost information, tools, weapons, ships, anything left over from the past. We have the Titanians who are standing by willing to assist us. And you have me, a being who speaks to gods and can draw powerful and influential beings to her side, if only they're lack something." She spreads only the one hand, as the other is keeping her balanced. "Thoth recommended it first. We can start a cult. I can become the figurehead. The entity understands my position well; my role is more than being a person, it's being a force, a motion, a symbol. We'll just continue that as a greater force. And I'm not huckster or false idol: I speak to gods. I can achieve miracles. And in time, perhaps I can achieve them without assistance. There must be a great many who wish for guidance, for direction, for something to believe in, for something larger. We'll find what that is and draw them to us."
"You mean, basically, to start a holy crusade and see who joins up," Gabriel says. "We don't have a way to know if we can trust everyone who would join up. And it means throwing aside all attempts at secrecy and making ourselves vulnerable. Tricky."
"Do you trust each other?" Tasha asks, eyes opening. She looks between everyone gathered. "Hake, do you trust us? Katie? Gabriel?"
"Yes, but I'd feel better if someone else was recruiting for a cult or crusade," Hakeber says. "Let them be the target. And.. well.. there's one other option you forgot about."
"We can find recruiters. What is that, Hake?" Tasha's full focus is on her friend now, ears forward.
Hakeber's tail droops a bit as she suggests, "Mr. Yellow and his Sign."
Tasha frowns at this. "Mr. Yellow and his Sign are dangerous to wield, Hake. It may be less dangerous and disruptive to Galactic life if we threw rocks at their planets than spread the Sign. If we're not careful, we might exchange one menace for another, one in which we become the new Ogdru-hem."
"Just saying, if he's going to ask you to do stuff, you should use what you can," Hakeber says. "You're already talking about an army, and that means lots of casualties, because it implies the other side will also have an army."
"We have to be very careful if we don't want to be fighting against Galactic governments as well," Gabriel says. "Historically, they don't like private armies. Although the Khattans probably only like private armies."
"The other side likely has an army, Hake. They have existed here for over three iterations of Galactic civilization. Our saving grace is that we are small, we act in a very narrow window of time, and that other powers are maneuvering us. The Ogdru-hem so far been immobile, injured, or otherwise distracted and passive. We have yet to have a single element of the opposing power seek us out." Tasha, now dry, settles her wings down and rests comfortably, head on her hands. "And if we fall, what then? My thought it to do more than form an army. We will create a cause, a greater expression of what we've achieved together as a mixed-species entity. The Seeders show it can work on a larger scale. We can then pass on our knowledge, insert the awareness of the powers beyond in to Galactic life. We don't have to limit ourselves to the war alone, we can effect changes, we can help people."
"Every government would be against us if we tried to go public with the truth," Gabriel claims. "The wouldn't risk the panic or corruption of whatever their current belief systems are. Much less the spectre of what would happen after the crusade, with this big force existing without direction."
"It'd be the Knights Templar all over again," Hakeber whispers. "Everyone turned on them after empowering them in the first place."
"We really need someone who knows how to play politics," Katie says.
Tasha lays her ears back, and her tail lashes as it shows the frustration the rest of her is holding back. She snaps, "Perhaps they deserve to die? Or, should we kill the governments and take over? We may as well discuss it now. If the governments are in the way and leading towards ruin, they are in themselves a problem."
"We don't know what the governments already know or have in motion," Gabriel points out. "They could be actively suppressing knowledge or genuinely in the dark. But we can't fight them. And we can't use military force without playing by the agreed upon rules. If some planet appears to decide on their own to battle whatever Ogdru-hem is local to them, that doesn't blow back on us. And if they're in league with one, I'd rather use the Sign on them than try to fight them. The outcome is the same for them either way. Societal mass hysteria is something that has happened before."
"Maybe we should find our targets first and figure out what's needed to take them out?" Katie suggests. "We know where one is, but that's it right now. We need the names and addresses of the enemy."
Tasha reaches up and rubs the top of her muzzle with a hand. "So we continue as we are then, as a covert group. Then we should think about amassing power unto ourselves. Quality over quantity. We will all have to become more, overcome our weaknesses, if we're to do things that way." She rolls a hand in a kind of shrug. "Unless they find us first, Katie. The last time one attacked us our PersoComs turned in to monsters, Hake was hijacked, and we almost lost the ship. And that one was defending itself automatically. I would prefer if we are attacked again, they find us to be better defended. That said," she waggles the hand, "I'm not against covert tricks, they're a lot easier for us to do, and we have some ability there already. In fact we may be already well suited to them. Direct applications of power other than the Dagger, that I'm less certain of. And we may not have the luxury to look around for answers. Therefore I'd like to improve our local powers. Expand the Horse, maybe see if a finished final model exists rather than this unarmed prototype. Look for the Titans. Wield magic. Gather as many tools to ourselves as we can, so even if they try to grasp us, it is like grasping, well, a dagger's blade. In that way we can fight from a strong position and move freely, carrying our power with us."
"Knowledge is a big part of power," Katie notes. "Intelligence gathering is the most important part of any conflict, especially before there's a conflict. It lets out plot the most efficient course of action, figure out what extra resources we might need and what resistance to expect. These monsters aren't setting themselves up as gods - there'd be no way to hide themselves in a world where civilizations just aren't isolated. At least, in known space. So for the ones 'local' to us, they need to stay hidden as much as we do."
"And we don't have to do that part of things ourselves," the not-so-secret agent claims. "People will spy for us without even knowing they're doing so. There are lots of ways to handle that from a distance."
"You'd know that better than I would. Until recently, I tried to fight gods and influence people face-to-face. It's good then that out Council already has positions dedicated to the job." Tasha sits up, stretching, then plops her head on her hands again. "The entity I spoke with had shied away from magic, but without it I may not be of much use directly without the same result as before, and conventional weaponry only goes so far in these things. I didn't find a lead on seeking spirits to control on my trip to the other side, so that might be a wash."
"It's only been one visit," Hakeber says. "We all need to see what we can do in that regard. And what sort of fairy did you talk to that doesn't like using magic? They're.. magical.. aren't they?"
"It was more of a 'fairy associate,' not unlike myself. Fairy-like, but not one itself. I have been asked not to share the details of what happened on other other side, but they also didn't say I couldn't return, or wander elsewhere. The lake is a portal, but not one I know how to use, and not where it goes, so there's a risk in returning without a guide like before. The actual faeries were mostly going about their business, though my guide was talkative. I could ask him. But he's a little ... " Tasha hesitates. "Kaa-ish."
"Did he try anything with you?" Gabriel asks, with a bit of a growl.
Tasha holds her hands up. "I'm sure he wanted to but no, you can put your hackles down." But then her own ears, tail, and wings go up. "He did turn me in to a Human for a moment, that I could have done without. Being a Human messes with your head."
"Any human or you as a human human?" Katie asks, ears perked.
"The one and only Human-me," Tasha explains, ears flattening. She flicks her tail in to her hands for reassurance that she is still as she is. "Or so I assume. I said my bathing suit is cute and he, well, he said "lets see" and somehow turned me in to a Human. Just like that." From her tone, it's clear she thinks making her Human shouldn't be that easy.
"Probably just an illusion," Hakeber says. "Fairies are big on illusion. Like handing out gold coins that turn to wooden ones in the morning and such."
"Yeah, no fun having a Human Tasha that turns to wood in the morning," Gabriel agrees.
"It's a good illusion if I can't feel my wings, my tail, and my muzzle goes away." Tasha then barks a laugh. "I'll leave the wood in the morning to you, Gabriel. I think that's your department."
"I'll have to hide it from fairies somehow then, lest they turn it into gold," Gabriel quips.
"The rules are different in the fairy realm, where some of them are practically gods," Hakeber says. "Good thing they stay there! Did you ask the Purple People Popper if he'll take others over?"
"I wouldn't put it past them," Tasha notes. She then exhales and drops herself back on the ground, wings out, hands out, tail thumbing the ground agitatedly. "Molly might. I get the impression he does this sort of thing now and then. I didn't see many others, there were these tiny beings that looked like Humans with bug wings -- I think he called them pixies -- and little else. It was mostly just woods, other-world woods, it could have been anywhere or any-when. The entity said the fairy realms exist and cease to exist regularly, so they change over time and new ones pop up. They definitely talked about and mentioned faeries, though. That was clear."
"So what's next?" Gabriel asks. "Keep coming back to try and earn some cooperation from the fairies.. I never thought I'd be saying that. Fairies. Fairies. It definitely sounds like there needs to be a guide though."
"Going into the fairy realm without one, or accidentally, tends to be very bad according to the mythologies," Hakeber says. "Who knows what's lurking over there? Old gods? Monsters? Giraffes?"
"Maybe I can ask Thoth, he did promise to teach me. Not that he is any less mysterious. "I can say nothing of Mr. Pharaoh," I see why now." Tasha gives an indignant snort. She sits there for a moment, regarding the stars, the moon, and the wind, before adding, "We really have wandered far, haven't we?" She then points at Hake without looking at her. "So you're saying my usual is on the other side? Well we can't have that."
"Well, it sounds like they're bored over there, maybe, and would be willing to help just for something to do," Hakeber says. "It used to be you could challenge a fairy to a duel at any crossroads under a full moon. Then I suppose mortal technology caught up to fairy magic and it wasn't a sure thing anymore."
"Thoth," Gabriel says. "He doesn't know we even came out here for this, does he?"
"I'm not sure if I'm up to dueling. My last duel didn't end so well. Really, I've become very aware of how I stack up against real professionals, actual demigods, and exceptional beings of many types. Fair fights have really lost their appeal." Tasha spreads her hands; what can you do. "And no, I don't believe he does. I plan to tell him later. I'm surprised he hasn't shown up, but that he hasn't means we haven't done anything too alarming. That, or he's avoiding this area for his own reasons."
"We still don't know what he does in his.. spare time?" Katie says, and looks frustrated about it. "For all we know he ceases to exist when we aren't looking at him."
"Should we investigate that? Is it important we know everything about him? I am getting the impression I'm disappointing him by not picking apart his word-riddles, but I have enough to deal with without puzzles." Tasha frowns. "'Speak plainly when you deal with immortals.' If only the same was returned. Then again," and she frowns deepens, " ... maybe that is the answer. He is speaking plainly. "I can say nothing of Mr. Pharaoh" is literal. He can say nothing. He means it as he says, quite likely because it would draw his attention, or that they have some sort of deal."
"Or he doesn't know anything about him," Hakeber says. "For that matter, how did the fairies and fairy-adjacent entities talk? Also in riddles?"
"Molly talks a little like I or Nora do, that is, he's kind of a smartass, but more emphasis on being evasive and tricky. As he was the only fairy I spoke to I can't say anything about the others. It might be they can't lie; or maybe they can and they just didn't feel like it." And so Tasha spreads her hands; who knows.
"I'm pretty sure fairies are deceptive, but that's not the same as outright lying," Hakeber says. "It's more about how far we can trust anything they say. If they want to mess with us, how would we know any different?"
"You see now why I was hesitant to talk to him about anything important. I wasn't even sure he would lead me to where he said, or back again, except that he knew of the Marker and therefore had some idea of the powers behind it. And, whatever else I may be, powers walk with me. Not necessarily beside me, but they're around." Another hand shrug. "And of course this makes working out deals with them tricky. Can we really rely on beings who are known for being unreliable and difficult?"
"Well, you have been pretty stable lately," Gabriel teases with a grin. "But.. I'd forgotten about the Marker in all this. What was it the key to, or was that just something cryptic with now meaning?"
"It was a sort of indication or direction; Persephone hasn't stopped looking after me just because my soul has been glued together. Beyond that I am required to maintain secrecy if I expect further help." As she says this, Gabriel gets his foot prodded by Tasha's own, showing she definitely noticed the tease. "/As I was saying/, they represent another unknown and mysterious power. We can't even rely on the powers of Order, because in a sense we are opposing them. I'm not sure I ever mentioned this, I feel like /someone/ did/, but, the Ogdoad are beings of Order. We may be limited in reliable powers, at least /aligned/ powers."
"The only really orderly person I ever met was a Silent-Ones priest," Katie notes. "People are messy. Even Shojo misplaces things, and he doesn't have the excuse of his hands just doing stuff on autopilot while he's moved on to something else."
"Aren't Horus and the Vril-ya.. well.. Order types?" Hakeber asks. "Isn't that why they pretty much failed?"
"Well at least we're all a mess together." Tasha rubs her nose, thinking. "Well, the most reliable power I have at my personal disposal besides people and the ship is Mel. Thoth built Mel, and Thoth knows magic. Maybe that's a path to explore? If we can't amass immortals, maybe we can outfit ourselves to become reasonable facsimiles? Thoth built the Apocalypse Titans to employ Shadow-beings as their source of power; perhaps we can do similar with other beings powers, and so on. In the past a single deific giant was able to accomplish much, and they can walk in modern society without too much interest. At least, most who have seen Mel around just lance at him. The Galactics aren't surprised."
To Hakeber's question Tasha answers, "Yes, but it's more accurate to say they are 'of Order' than 'about Order'. Or if they are, I'm unaware of it. They are made of order, in a memetic sense. I suspect the Ogdoad are made of something else, but about Order. Or they are the Shadow version of the Vril'ya, Shadow-Order and about Order. Horus is an exception as is Thoth, they have deviated from a existence of order."
"So, we should capture fairies and use them as missile warheads," Katie says in a thoughtful way, as if she's seriously considering it. "The Dark Horse is essentially that, isn't it? A Shadow-powered warhead?"
Tasha blinks at the idea, chuckling if a bit anxiously. "Lets not offend an entire neutral people, not unless we have to. But, it might be worth exploring if we can find a way. You saw how the chaos of the Yellow unraveled Luk'thu-hem after all. Exotic magics and memetic energies work on the level the Ogdru-hem exist on, the non-physical side at least which mortal weaponry struggles to touch. It's why ancient civilizations culd never destroy them; they couldn't reach their essence. It would be like trying to stab a three dimensional being when you're two dimensional, no matter how smart you are you can only touch a small cross-section." And so Tasha thinks, nodding slowly. "The Dark Horse doesn't use Tatha-hem as a missle exactly, it harnesses her essential power. Each Ogdru-hem has at least one ability that helps them perform their role. Tatha's is movement, or something like it. She isn't bound by the speed of light, she can accelerate something in her field of influence beyond light. This causes terrible damage to reality and the 'sheering' burns souls out of existence. It's a little like setting fire to the scroll their soul is written on. The jar-weapon worked in a similar way -- it burned souls to break reality and hurl a piece of it in to nowhere. Now, like ripping off a corner of a scroll and throwing it to the wind."
"Maybe we should try weaponizing that Marker again then," Katie suggests. "You used it before, and it came back or something. Or could be split? Made into bullets?"
"We've use the Dagger of Eibon and the Marker so far as successful weapons.. and just set off a weapon that was already built around another Ogdru-hem," Gabriel notes. "They can be bound, we've see that. That shouldn't be something we overlook. These things can be manipulated."
Tasha shifts uncomfortably. "I don't think you understand what the Marker is. One, it's attached to my soul. It's a manifestation of my agreement and link to Mr. Yellow. Next, by spreadings its influence we apply it to our reality. Using the burning souls analogy, it's like drawing yellow all over the scroll of existence. We poison the locality, minds, souls, and align our reality closer to him. If burning souls is pure destruction, he's more like a virus or a poison. Or, a biological weapon. A memealogical weapon. A concept-virus of the soul." But she nods to Gabriel. "Yes, and Thoth knows how. He suggested we recover the Titans for study, he may be able to reverse-engineer other wards and bindings, such as those of Tatha-hem. If we can replicate them, we can create our own supernaturally powered devices and weapons. There is also looking to generate Vril, which he created Mel to explore. I am probably the one most suited to trying that."
"So who did he make these Apocalypse Titans for and why would he call them that?" Katie asks. "I call dibs on the next one we find, by the way. Just putting that out now. DIBS."
Tasha sits up and gives Katie a /look/ then /laughs/. "You can't declare /dibs/ on a-- You know what Katie?" Tasha throws her hands wide in a shrug. "/I'm just going to let you take it./ It's not like anyone else is going to say, "A dmeon-powered weapon of destruction? I'd like that." No one except /me/ and I have my Titan, though he /has/ been rather difficult to apply to our current problems. Upgrades. Upgrades, and modifications. Maybe we can arm him with one of these drives, and with other weapons. We'll need the originals." She then purses her muzzle and admits, "He didn't say what they were for, but I believe he implied they were to oppose Shadow beings. He got one power to aid him in trapping another, and used them, probably to fight a third. I /assume/ there was an apocalyptic event happening, or he predicted one. Maybe /this/ one/ What's more, it's not as if he was piloting them all himself. He must have anticipated pilots. He created Mel to explore the creation of Vril by a mortal. It may be he had intended to explore the creation of Shadow-energies, or that they were more practical weapons designed for direct warfare and not tets platforms."
"The more we talk about this, the more dangerous I think Thoth is," Gabriel notes. "We could easily become another of his experiments. You saw what he could do to Sam, so who knows what he could do to mere flesh and blood and brains."
"'What if' is the problem with these beings. You probably know this, but I'd been casting myself to this sort of wind simply by doing what I do. You have to accept it might happen as part of the work." And so she shrugs her shoulders. "Do remember we keep Sam around, a being that can literally eat your soul, an extension of a power as dire and terrible as the Ogdoad. If we cats out Thoth, we should cast out Sam many times over. And, I don't think we should be so hard on Thoth. Remember he has operated alone for ages, the only one of his kind, tasked with a near-impossible mission, but as far as I'm aware he has never blatantly done anything heinous. His task is to bring mortals closer to the Vril-ya, to create a connection, so being of order like he is, he naturally keeps trying to do so."
"Also remember he petrified Samael at great cost to himself, for the purpose of defending Charon. He may have been mistaken -- or possibly /not/ -- but his heart was in the right place. He acted to protect a child of beings he respected based on the facts as he knew them, and it's not like he had any /greater/ obligation to us. We should respect that he has done things his way for a long time and, yes, he may be experimenting and trying strange things, but he's not /worse/ than Samael or many other powers, even mortal powers. I think what you're really against is his incredibly poor people skills. Don't let Sam charm you too much," Tasha adds/
"Sam is part of the ship," Gabriel notes. "He's been useful. He's... well... more likeable, but that could just be because he's more evil and evil is charming. Thoth gives me the creeps. He uses a Naga as luggage. But he probably knows more about this fairy business than we can guess at."
"The Naga is his staff. It is a living, empowered object created to aid him. That it looks like a Naga is just convenience. It's something like a multi-tool for him, an existence that aids him, provides tools, and quite possibly works like a computer or other work aid. Think of the Naga as simply a manifestation of a tool's disguise." Tasha bites her lip, then nods. "It's very likely he does. Fairies appear in Terran mythology around the same time he was present on Terra, and he's the father of alchemy, which some entries I've read suggests is the beginning of Terran science. Even then he was trying to create Vril, with no known success. But he did teach alchemy."
"He walks between worlds too, so maybe he can get to the fairy realms and back out again wherever he wants to," Hakeber suggests.
"He used to. I get the feeling he's running out of energy. Like Horus, existing in this reality wears away at his Vril. he's also been expending it regularly. Without a new source he will eventually and end up like Horus, or cease to exist. It is likely part of why he hopes to find a source. The only source I know of is Vril itself, and not only is reaching Vril difficult, but it would mean the end of his independence and separate identity." Tasha spreads her hands again. "The Vril'ya have a problem the Shadow does not: They can't replace their existence here. There is something fundamentally different about Vril-energy that is unlike the Shadow, which seems to be both a foreign element and local souls. I do know that Shadow-beings transcribe the soul in to a kind of data, and that data becomes part of them. 'They are what they know,' and in absorbing a soul, they know that soul entirely, and 'are' them, growing larger. This is bad, but there's an added danger in the observer effect tipping towards whatever being can amass enough souls to become the prime, or at least a powerful, observer. They can change reality to accommodate them, which is part of how the Ogdru'hem are supposed to work. It's also why I fear the over use of the Marker."
"Hmm, maybe we're looking at this the wrong way 'round," Gabriel muses, and scratches his cheek. "Most of what these beings are made of is.. unreal. So instead of looking to defeat them with something of equal unreality, we should try something that super-real instead. Something to break their anchors to reality."
"That is an idea. A reality-razor to sever their grip. Most of them wouldn't be able to survive that, since the Ogdry-hem are hybrids and Thoth himself is a second generation and may be likewise attached to our reality. I don't think I'm suited to wield a hyper-reality weapon though; in fact I think it might be dangerous to me, too. We'd need someone else to do it, if we could even find such a thing." Tasha taps her knee, once again in thought. "There was a object in the Titanic that flattened space. Gravity weapons are effective against even the Ogdoad, as their prison is inside Sagitarius A*'s influence. The Titanians would likely know more about such things. That, and Vulcan.."
"Strange matter," Katie pipes in. "It's the most stable, ultimate and indestructible form of matter. And coming into contact with normal matter convinces it to become more strange matter. But it only exists, maybe, in the cores of neutron stars."
"The ship we found the Niss in used it, didn't it?" Gabriel asks.
"I think so. Wasn't there some floating around the old fleet, too? Isn't possession of the stuff considered some kind of Galactic high crime?" Tasha perks her ears, less cocerned at high crimes so much as why it was a crime. "It could infect the universe and strange-up planets?"
"Potentially, yes, and cause them to collapse because it's super dense," Katie notes. "Basically it turns everything into a giant atomic particle."
"No way to handle the stuff without some sort of stasis field, like the Titanians use," Gabriel ponders.
"That would make an interesting particle cannon particle." Tasha tilts her head. "Carrying and deploying any amount of this stuff presents a challenge beyond using it. This Niss seemed to know how to do this; their ship collapsed mainly due to its extreme age and the pull of the singularities than due to their own engineering faults. It is possible they could construct a vessel again given the time and resources. It sounds like we should locate the Tnuctipin shipyards. The Tnuctipin were annihilated, so their artifacts should no longer be under their control save for whatever automation remains. From what I remember they were immensely intelligent -- almost on par with the Sifra -- and individualists with little trust for each other. That probably extends to their security and design; we may see security of individuals and layered, secure shipyards. They seem far too intelligent to have produced temporary, fragile structures, and the Sifra likely destroyed or corrupted any AI defenses."
"And they didn't really use automation," Gabriel says. "At least not in the Dark Horse. We'd have to ask the Titanians about it though. Who knows what else is out in that Megellanic junkyard they kept things in."
"Urgo-hem destroyed the Tnuctipin. I suspect their home world, or at least their base, is near that star system -- or where it was anyway. We can try searching for it, or ask the Titanians if they already found and, um, archived the resources." Tasha looks up to the sky, pointing. "I can call them when we leave. We just need to find a quiet space and meet up with them. I've already been instructed by Bumper to rely on them more, so now's a good time to test it. We'll keep investigating magical options as well."
"Holy crap," Katie blurts out. "If that's true, do you think the Tnuctipin created the Berserkers?"
"Hmmmm," goes Tasha, who considers the idea by running through scenarios in her head. "It would be a strange choice for them, but I wouldn't put it pas them to use anything to save themselves. They are immensely intelligent, living super-computers who might have achieved an existence like the Waymakers. If they thought sentient machines were the right answer I have no doubt they'd use them. They don't use automation in their own works because they can handle it all themselves, but for something like Urgo-hem, they could have used them as a suppressive force while they scrambled to find a better solution. That urgo-hem was attacking them in the first place is very unusual and probably suggests the Ogdoad saw them as a real threat in need of direct attack, and chose Urgo-hem because of their species weakness of mistrust."
"There was also that trap system, the one with the sea of fake people and the giant clockwork. Someone nearby was very worried about the Ogdru-hem," Tasha adds.
"I haven't had any nightmares in awhile, thanks for bringing that place up again," Katie says and shivers. "I know there have been ideas about computational planets and stars. I thought maybe that's what happened to the First Ones before we found out they were actually wiped out. Just.. retreat into virtual universes inside planet sizes computers."
"I'm a little surprised we haven't found any, myself. I suspect the Sifra would have corrupted them, and probably very easily considering they can re-write fundamental reality on which any precise machine would rest. But I think that somewhere nearby is the Thuctipin base or home world. Someone was trying very hard to delay or destroy Urgo-hem at the very least. We don't know how Urgo-hem traveled, but it seems safe it moved from star to star and probably needed time to jump between them, maybe even using something like a Terra drive, while drawing energy from the star that hosted it. My thought is that it was star by star searching for their world. Since they didn't flee, and since Mr. H's fortress is nearby, and since they apparently tried to attack once but failed, I think Urgo-hem got close before being held where it is. Maybe close enough to attack, because they were defeated. Otherwise they should have had a chance to win, but they don't seem to have tried again, or else were satisfied with their Berserker idea due to it being a long-term success," Tasha suggests.
"And then were destroyed by the Sifra later," Tasha adds.
"They sounded like horrible people anyway," Hakeber says. "So, Thotep knows how to capture and use Ogdru-hem, right? That fleet was made of his followers or whatever. Is asking him for help out of the question?"
"Oh I'm sure he;d love to help so long as it interested him, and we're the right kind of interesting. A small, cruel death he enabled by handing us the work of hyper-intelligences. Just remember everything he gives has a price, and his motivations include madness, pain, and his personal entertainment which focuses on both these things. I believe he is the 'devil' of the Terran saying 'deal with the devil'," Tasha explains.
"Well.. maybe we should find someone who's beat him before, and ask them for help," Hakeber suggests.
"Thoth may be such a being. He said he's opposed him for a long time," Tasha notes.
"Well, I think we need to talk to Thoth next then," Hakeber says. "About fairies and devils."
"And devil-powered Titans," Katie adds.
Yes, maybe a sit down presentation back on the ship with all relevant members of the Council present," Tasha agrees, standing up. She stretches again and holds her hands out to be taken, "I feel like Thoth and long, detailed lectures are made for each other."