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Mintaka Xuan bristled as the door opened and she saw what was there. It did not take long to sponge up the sight and scene before them, to remember from ages past. The Dragon knew well what dangers lie there now, why the vicious strike from nothing and nowhere. What truly could have rivaled Destruction - as unstable and unbalanced as He was...
Khevile felt all the full emotion and sheer rage now making up the Dragon and focused amber eyes on this walking nightmare who seemed to think their words so witty. Had he a shot in all of bringing her down he would have, but the unknown left him with hesitation. He shifted footing, looking to the Dragon again.
Damn that b***h she hissed, her voice a growl of rage and hatred as eyes fell on Gaia there. The Empress, bloodied, injured... a heap of something where one knew Destruction had to be.... it was wrong, never should have been... oh, by the hands of All, and the time immortal, this never should have been! She cursed her youth, her weakened self, and all that was a moment at how stupid this all was. The room was filled with a mix of those returned, those who may yet one day prove useful to the Pantheon, or would have, had the End itself not lay here before them. There had to be a way, Must be a way...
She is dangerous. Damn her for being betwixt us and Gaia! We must make sure she is well! There must be a way to fix things. There must...
Kheviel frowned, unsure how they would make it past this... thing. He was ready to find a way past that thing to make sure she was fine, but he wasn't about to jump the gun in trying to get in - no clue what this thing could or would do exactly. And he was quite more thankful that there were others here who seemed perhaps more capable of dealing with her then he - actual dieties. He watched carefully for a chance of something - be it aiding someone's attack, or getting an opening enough to aid Kishara, or to see if she would respond at all. She didn't seem to be dead, but everything seemed very much out of place and reason.
Inle-roo Anticipatory murmurs filled the air, adding to the oppressive feeling of dread Ellis felt. He remained where he was against the wall, his all-too-mortal body still feeling the effects of the wave. He took in all of the creatures that had gathered in the hall--a centaur here, the shapeshifting Fragment there, a handful of godlings not confined to gems as his was--and felt very out of place; he had no business being here among them.
No, Neva told him, idly fixing the damage within him that she had helped create, everyone felt this. This concerns everyone.
The door scraped open then, and Ellis's eyes widened as a floating, half-decayed thing pushed its way out of it. Bile rose swiftly at the grotesque sight and was barely swallowed back. Ellis pressed himself closer to the wall, a million whats and whys running through his head.
I don't know, Neva answered. I have never seen such a thing, or if I have, the memory has been lost to the Ages. Stay, she told her host, squelching his desire to flee. Watch. Learn, but do not get too close.
Eftemie Taj had receded tiredly allowing Jaster some breathing room. Their body craved to rest and they would allow it as they could. Even if it was just leaning against the wall to listen. He tried to remain alert to what was needed and happening. He tried to remember what this creature was but the rememberances were not readily his. Bits of the fading dropped down showing him small portions of what had occurred then, but what had been felt earlier and revealed to him were the scattered images of pain and confusion. Now was far from that and yet similar in dread, fear, and worry.
From where he stood, Jaster and Taj, to some extent, had watched as more and more gathered, cautiously, angrily? and warily. His brother and sister gods or so Taj thought of them. But the one Jaster wanted to see, he did not and that caused him true concern. A bit of disappointment slipped into him also, but he shoved the emotion aside to remain focused on those around him. He had found them, so he would find him even if in trouble.
It was not entirely horror or fear that focused his attention on the thing that finally opened the doors they were all so concerned with being locked. Curiosity was there as well as caution and fascination for not knowing what it was they faced. He shivered lightly as he watched. It was obvious that many others were older than he. Stronger. More powerful. Yet they slowed, hesitating and were wary of this rotting creature before them.
Saljin snarled-hissed- as felines did in reaction to what they did not like, he reached out absently to pat and soothe him. It would not do to attack what they did not understand. They would listen.
"Shh, Saljin. Now is not the time." His voice was soft, gentle and low so that he was not a distraction from what needed to be done by others, yet the feline would hear. He forced himself to stand there watching though he wanted to rest. Now was not the time for napping.
Talencia Arc surged to his feet as the doors swung apart and a nightmare emerged. The... thing was just within sight, but an arm's reach away, or a little more. He had never seen the like of the creature. Though clearly female, he couldn't bring himself to think of it as a 'her'. It was nothing so lovely and feminine as a woman should or could be. It was a horrific combonation of a parody of female features... breasts, lips, hair... intermingled with metallic terror, with splashes of some unknown further marring her form.
Repulsed, he took a step backward and nearly fell over the little troll-woman who had only just begun her new, immortal life. Well, the life of her diety, whomever it was, anyway. Urgently he centered her behind him and edged backward again. His concept of charging in at full speed to discover what had befallen their Lord were gone. From his angle, he could not see into the throne room, but he wasn't about to leave the new host behind him to face that thing alone. Noone else seemed to be near them at this critical moment, so he remained where he was, watching the monstrosity warily, shudders that all up and down his new body as evidence of his reaction to the random non-wholeness of the thing before them.
Betha was completely baffled by the gathering that occured. But before she could take in the faces and qualities of those gathered, something began to happen. In a heartbeat, the doors they rested by were no more. As Arctang sprang to his feet, the tea troll scrambled to her, tripping on her long skirts. She peered around his form to try and catch sight of what it was everyone was staring at. There, in the doorway, one claw clinging to mouldering stone that began to crumble beneath her grasp.
While the thing looked terribly frightening, Betha had seen so very many strange things in the short time she'd returned to her own form, she hardly felt stirred by anything as she looked upon it. Her first thought was, most surprisingly, curiousity. What was it? Or rather, what was she? Though where bones might have been on a normal mortal form, instead of bone being bared, there was metal, built or born to look like mortal bone. She certainly looked semi-normal from the chest up, or at least normal for one of the Big Folk.
She was still peering around Arctang when he suddenly moved backward into her, stepping on her poor abused toes with his own bare feet. She bit back a yelp of pain, sensing that it would split the tension that hovered in the air. She sent a glare up at him as he tried to shove her back further behind him and move further away from the odd woman-thing. She had her own mind, she could decide what to do herself! Still, now didn't seem to be the time to assert her independance. Instead, she hunkered down so that she could see between his legs, watching the strange creature that everyone was focused on.
She was completely baffled as to what was going on, or why everyone seemed so very wound up. Yes, whatever had knocked her down had been unpleasant, and yes she had a lingering feeling of foreboding, but why had it all been suddenly focused on this being emerging from the doors? All she could do was watch and wait, and wonder at the stirring uneasiness within her that was not her own.
Something is still wrong....
khiarhu So many scents he didn't know - gods and goddesses in varying stages of rebirth milled around the locked door; all were waiting as he was. The wave had obviously had it's effects...they'd been drawn back here, to the Alpha.
'Be still, Host. Feel that? It is Wrong.' Yu stroked at his host's consciousness, trying to sooth the edgy creature so he could look through it's eyes and get a better sense for what was going on.
Then the doors opened.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Whatever that thing was - that pieced and plucked arrangements of rotting sinew and half-there flesh was, it was wrong. Not to Live!
Fragment's fur stood on end and his form warped rapidly into something bigger, more feral -- less mane and more mass; he skinned his lips back to bare glistening fangs and even an unspoken command from Xia could not silence the rumbling growl that came from the creature's deep chest.
Just leaving -- but beyond this thing was blood-scent and rot-scent and the smell of things utterly horrifying. Not-Alpha. Not-Harmodius. And yet both, but with other smells mixed. Too, this unreal-yet-real thing smelled of blood and blood-magic and flesh.
He wanted to leap at her. He wanted her gone. She felt so very wrong to him that every inch of his being wanted to rip and shred and destroy -- just to be rid of her. Be rid of the crawling feeling she created under his skin.
Wisely, Yu held his host in check though the beast snarled and growled and it's body tensed as though it would leap forward and attack.
Zero Dream ....And what in the name of the Twin Crown was this.... this thing ? Echo tensed, one wing folding over Adi instinctively, protectively. From her angle, she couldn't see well what was within the throne room - which only added to her tenseness. She did not recognize the grigori for what it was, but the feeling she got from her... it... and the whole situation.... It was near impossible to think the creature was up to anything good. Not with that smirk plastered on its face.
Everything felt wrong. Her eyes narrowed. Just leaving ?! Oh, she didn't think so. Everything inside her screamed to charge, but no... she couldn't give in to that. Not with Adi all but clinging to her for her dear life. She couldn't give in to the urge. At least.... not yet.
Her glare was locked on her, however. She wasn't going to let the... thing out of her sight. She did not trust it one bit.
XiaoRen  The two children disregarded his warning, nearly disregarded his existence. He would have scolded them, but then the others came. Harmodius’ army, a tattered handful of the handful of deities He had made. His deathknell their clarion call to battle.
Eamnon arrived late, but was quick to his daughter’s side. Yes, of course, Gianfar could see that now. But there was no time to congratulate his old friend on the results of his raping. The doors opened.
It was not shock. He knew she was there. Still, his heart stopped old habits, was silent in his chest. The black pox of time, no, emptiness had marked her face, stripped her naked of flesh. But the years gathered around her in Queen’s raiment. They were attendants, pushing him to let her pass. He was two beings, ancient memory and present, schismed with emptiness between them. She had lived every minute of the long years. She remembered more than he did, knew more than he did. She smiled that same smile.
“Samyaza…” he spoke the name for the first time in two lifetimes.
Eamnon, of course, had gotten the first word. A cheesy one-liner delivered with such fatalistic aplomb he could only be about to attack. Never mind that frothing mad dragon thing that raked furrows in the floor.
There was no time, no time for him to think. Where had the arms gone? What had she done, and where was she going? No time for them to rush to the crumpled goddess behind her. If they did, Samyaza would glide past with them tumbling in the wake of her emptiness. The emptiness… He had to warn them, but yell anything and the battle began, his side in it declared. Could he stop her with words, to trade some? Goodness knows he had little else.
“It has been some time, Queen of the Grigori.” That his breath had stopped meant he did not pant. He spoke with a dry and regal calm. “Wielder of Void. First of the Fallen. How far we have both fallen, since then. But you were the first to dissent. Has your voice reached His deaf ears at last?”
Please, by his own name, let them hear that slight emphasis and Know. Pounce her like a pack of hounds on a vixen, and that shimmering sickness in the air around her could eat them away.
Ivynian
So many, indeed. They gathered snarled, bucked and panicked, hid and slavered, cried.
And there was Hunt, so stalwartly leading the charge.
"One cannot garner new name, where form no longer remains the same. Your captain cruel collapsed. So has the once-ling queen. Perhaps later, cocoon sprung, I can find a name from final lips. But not now, Hunter. That one speaks to no one now. But she will need all of your help, his taint hit her nearest, dearest, closest wracked and lacking found the floor. “
"You'll want to stop her leaking gore. Let not concern for me get in your way."
There were some near, very near, that must have been the beating on the door. And...familiar feels....senses. Smells. The Kings....some of their number in some sort or manner stood here before her. That could be well. That could be very well, as no dragons they were in form or majesty.
But that last flute note, an oldest, welcome sound to her old ears and her eyes half-lidded in deep recollection, "Thoth. That was a name once. In feminine mien, Sarasvati. There were days where I would have lent my two arms to yours to hold your mala and veena. How call you now and how do you answer, master of Literati?"
"How do you stand here, now, to speak with me?"
She moved slowly, edging to the last length of the door, and nearer the couches, letting the small creature and godman...thing be behind her. The rest of the room seemed far more hostile.
Meepfur From the moment the doors opened, Finn-att had been possessed of the urge to rid them all of that Wrong thing, utterly alien and clearly the enemy. His hide twitched as though to rid itself of flies, but this irritation wasn't caused by any pesky insect - only a biting sureness that he wanted to feel this thing beneath his hooves. It was full of strangeness, and that was more than enough reason to want to stomp it down on the ashy floor.
No, Finn-att, Itztlac cautioned in his mind, There may be a time for that, but it is not now. We do not know what plays itself out here; let Knowledge speak with her. It was Knowledge for certain - Samyaza had said as much. Samyaza. Queen. Grigori. Only so very vaguely familiar, these things...
He wanted to know more.
The centaur brought his left forehoof down hard upon the floor, both wordless acknowledgement of his god's command and expression of his frustration at it. He was a warrior, and no good at standing by and listening.
Eftemie Catching sight of movement near the door, Jaster noted the two scrambling back from her. Though he had no doubts every spot in the room was at risk, it seemed that their proximity might put them more so. There was little he could do other than to use caution himself.
Listening closely to the voices and what was said, Jaster noted certain words had pulled a reaction from Taj. A slight nervousness slipped into his body, but it was not wholly he himself who was shaking slightly. The god dreaded whatever they had been drawn into.
Wielder of Void. Captain? Queen? Leaking gore? Literati?
An intense feeling of revulsion as several confused thoughts slipped down over him as Taj caught and held the words not the least of which was pain. A searing sensation that slipped through both their minds. This was certainly a strong reaction from the god and Jaster's grip tightened on Saljin's fur unknowingly, knuckles whitening slightly as he suddenly grimaced. The feline rumbled in question glancing upwards, but made no move.
Then in the softest of whispers Taj spoke again. Jaster frowned trying to understand.
She is empty, and void, and waste. Injured lie in the place. Let Knowledge speak what it will. Other tasks there are to fill.
It wasn't these he wanted to listen to. It was the one he had met. The one who had been there the 86 ages with things he needed to learn. The one he owed the apology to. This was not for him to do. To stand and listen. Let the Master of Literati do so. He was the scholar obviously. If there were injured, then they needed help.
He glanced at the creature once as he moved to the side. His grip remained on Saljin as he tugged him, head indicating. Then he moved behind rather than between those speaking to one another. She herself had said they needed help and more powerful than he remained to her.
Syrie Yu perked his host's ears towards the half-formed creature that apparently was named "Samyaza" and the one that had called her such: the white-haired god. Thoth? Sarasvati? Gods of knowledge and writing, of lore and such. The dragon surmised (and correctly) that it was related to the god's domain...though which precisely, he could not know and would not assume. Domains were a tricky thing, sometimes.
Fragment's muscles quivered, he really wanted to leap at - or away from - the floating caricature of a woman. Yu would not let him; rather the Dragon was digesting her words. Captain cruel...Harmodius!! -- and the once-ling queen? Gaia? Gaia was reborn?! And yet...her words indicated that she was harmed, bleeding and hidden "behind" the "interest" his Lord's cocoon.
An item that he could see if he allowed his host to move closer yet to the statuary, away from the couches where the god and creature were speaking. Fragment's fur stood on end and part of his awareness followed Samyaza -- the others he could care less about. If they attacked and were harmed, if they lived...died...that was not his concern; no matter that it was a concern for the Dragon King bound to him.
Tick tock, tick tock...feel the sand, running out the clock~
'Now is not the time for your sing-song and games, Host! To listen, or to aid the Empress...' Yu was torn. There was much information that could be garnered from observing, but his lord was in a shell that he could see from where he stood and the Empress...hidden from view, but it must be her blood that the beast's nose was picking up.
Through the Fragment's body, Yu turned back, seeing Ellis-Neva crouched there, useless for battle - but perhaps not for other things. From the corner of his eye he watched another moving towards the fallen gods - a boy and his pet - Good. Neva would keep her wits about her host and Ellis would have hands to help.
Even as handicapped as Yu was in his current form, he was a Dragon King. A born leader of those under the Twin Crown's rule. He would not sit idly by when He needed aid. Nor when His Lady did.
'Neva, Ellis --' The beast's jaws opened a bit, and low words came from within his chest; he was being as quiet as he could and still be heard by those he wished. 'That thing said the Empress is harmed - get into the throne room, past those statues, and find her. Help her. She must not die.'
Zero Dream The subtitles of Knowledge's tone of voice where far from lost on her. There was something here. Something important. Something potentially dangerous. Another initiative to curb her initial reaction of wanting to dive right in. No, she had to be careful. When Kishara was mentioned, her grip on Adi tightened slightly out of reflex. She.... she was in there ? Wounded ?
....Mother....
There was another urge - to go straight to her, to help somehow. But... this meant crossing the door. Adi seemed to be latching on very tightly, and.... endangering the little werewolf was the last thing she wanted to do.
Thankfully, her sensitive ears picked up what the massive black beast was saying. Hopefully the ones the message was meant to would listen, and she did her best to keep her face neutral, as if she had not heard a thing. She did not speak - she was not in the mindset to be good enough with word, and the pale god seemed to be able to make up for this lack. She stood there, ready.... just in case.
Inle-roo The impossible: conversation between the twisted, nearly bodiless thing and a gray man, too regal in tone and stature to be anything but a god reborn. Low voices, sedate and rife with riddles and ancient history, took the edge off of Ellis's instinctive fear--if this thing was as monstrous as it appeared, surely it would have no use for such eloquent speech. He allowed himself to uncurl a little, he and his goddess watching the proceedings with more interest now than fear, though a large measure of that was still present.
His eyes slid to the side as his name was called, by the beast who had brought him here, no less. They flicked to Yu and then beyond, to the wide-open entrance to the throne room, before narrowing in comprehension. He nodded, quietly pushing off from the wall, keeping one eye on the godling and his levitating companion and the other on his path. He ducked between statues and people struck dumb with awe or fear or both, crouching by Fragment as he reached the shapeshifter's side.
"Cover us," Ellis whispered into one long, furry ear, patting the beast's side as he used him as a shield from sight until he was able to scurry into the throne room. The chrysalis loomed large and threatening before him, and he swallowed back his fear--with no small measure of help from Neva, who would not abide such a silly, pointless emotion now, of all times--and gave it a wide berth. The sight that greeted him next was hardly any better: a one-armed goddess, a frail and broken thing surrounded by an ever-spreading pool of her own blood.
Neva firmly denied him his instinctive desire to run, at least for help more qualified than he. No, she told him. She who lies there is worth more than giving in to your petty, mortal squeamishness. You will attend her, Neva ordered, and Ellis winced as he took a step towards the dying form, blood eagerly surrounding his shoe. The subsequent ones were easier, and he only cringed a little bit as Neva made him kneel by the body's side. Hesitant fingers reached to touch the ghastly wound before recoiling.
I don't have anything to stop the blood flow, he thought helplessly.
Use your shirt, Neva suggested.
What? But--
Now is no time for modesty, host. You must put pressure against the wound and that will suffice until we can find something more suitable.
Ellis nodded dumbly, removing his shirt before wadding it up, carefully putting one hand on Gaia's shoulder while the other pressed the fabric to the wound.
Talencia He listened. He didn't necessarily understand, but he listened. Both to what the monstrosity said, as well as what others said. He could feel the little body behind him vying for a view, and continued to try and protect her, attempting to edge the both of them behind one of the couches. This was so not right. So very not right. Captain and queen? Could those mean what he thought they meant? He still was trying to process what it was the mousey individual had said to her. How did one weild void?
But others were moving now, particularly a rather large creature with a set of teeth to make a bear think twice. At first he thought the thing thought to leap upon the mock-woman... what had it been called? Samyaza had been what the unusually forward but reserved looking one called her. But no, the large bulk of furred menace stopped, and a smaller form slipped around behind him, and towards the throne room. Arctang thought now only of the young form behind him. He must protect her! He continued to edge her towards the others, towards the door out, or the stairs leading up to the rooms. She needed to leave!
She put up with his mother-henning long enough to get around to where she could see beyond the strange woman and into the room. Shortly thereafter, a beast shielded another who ran in and fell to his knees beside a fallen form that lay in a shining pool of liquid. One would not be enough! She moved to follow, but Arctang stopped her, trying to force her the oppisite direction. She had had enough!
She swatted at his hands and stepped back away from him, glaring up at him as he glanced back worriedly. Fiercely she whispered between gritted teeth. "Mind yourself, and let me mind my own. There is tending that must be done!" She pointed urgently towards the throne room, and when he turned to look, she darted out from behind him. She got just beyond arm's reach, and then slowed to a more cautious pace, padding on her bare feet behind the frightening individual. Having managed to get thus far, she then darted over towards the boy who was pressing a swiftly reddening shirt to the stump of the woman's arm. Hurriedly she shed her outer skirt and knelt beside him, ready to lend a hand.
She completely ignored the grotesque figure of what might have once been man-like, but now... well, it didn't bear bothering with at the moment, considering the life ebbing all too swiftly across the floor.
Perri Indiya The Hunt's more base instincts strained against reason, but the pain every shift of his muscles brought held him back. Attempting to tear the intruder apart would do nothing but end his own existence, and he had miles to go before that would be a worthwhile sacrifice. Everything smelled like blood and ichor. Lady Gaia needed him alive.
His eyes narrowed at the Grigori but he kept the rest of himself in check, stalking around her to stand near Kish's torn form. It was his fault, of course. He'd left his post. "Fine. Go." He said sharply, not able to turn his back on the thing he had helped bring here and help the goddess before she had moved on. He kept it short, afraid that if he was more verbose he'd say something he'd regret.
Little Suffocation stayed behind the stairs, eyes wide as she tried to pick out Kishara's form from the mess of liquid and pulp spread over it, no longer the nice and pretty lady she had met before.
Mintaka He was torn, painfully in the most figurative way. The subcontext of words was clear, open, and there, laid out before them like a half-drawn and ruined map. Nothing clear, othing open, just cryptic hints but ti was enough. Her own words were enough to still his own desires, moreso as others moved to her. And Xuan Yi, Shield of the Empress and Consort too was torn by this mixed signal.
No, Kheviel said pointedly to the Dragon, feeling muscles begin to loosen at last as the threat of a fight began to loom, she wants us to ignore her. This... Grigori, this madwoman. She wants us to attend to Gaia and allow her leave, escape. To spirit away with something no doubt. You don't distract your opponent to other things without cause, Xuan. I've fought enough fools who try such to know. But she is smarter... and that makes this worse.
You are only lucky there are those who heed not those subtleties, Xuan hissed with a seething rage. I should have been protecting her.
That is neither here nor there, he fired back, hands sliding down his sides as he shifted steps a moment. He made sure there was enough distance between he and her, but also made sure her leave of the door was no completely clear, either. He knew if this one she spoke to could perhaps garner more from her, to enlighten them further with what he knew, it might work better. But there was too much risk to lose in letting her slide away. He licked his lips slightly, his mouth feeling slightly dry from the tension.
Xuan dwelled on the words of Knowledge again, pondering. First of the Fallen... it was something, something there.... no, this one, the one responsible for the fall of Him - she had to be it, she had done something in the past. No no, she couldn't be allowed to leave. An urge to speak filled her, and she took it. "Why the hurry to leave?"
A wonderful question. I do hope she answers - preferably without trying to behead us or something. A dry sarcastic tone went with the words as he kept focus on her, ready to react on a second's notice but putting a less hostile stance forward. Some were attending Gaia, so he needed to not worry yet about her; no, this thing which had caused the harm needed dealt with.
Xanil  Eid roared in Eddard's head, ringing through his entire body with unquenched fury. Were these not the Lord's own. Were none of them sworn to protect him in some capacity or other? Had they forgotten the simple concept of sacrifice. Eid couldn't remember anything, consumed with rage. They step aside and allow her to pass by her word as if SHE were Lord. Draw your sword, let her feel our wrath.
Our wrath? Eddard was caught off gaurd by the reference, but didn't allow Eid to cloud his judgement. Something is beyond our understanding. We learned that the Hunt is a warrior. Now is likely not the time for fighting.
Cowards, every last one of you are children lost in the dark. If you are too afraid to get up and turn on the light then you will remain lost and afraid forever, frozen in fear, and you're the worst of all, Eddard.
Eddard clenched his teeth together in anger. I think I much prefered the nausea and exhaustion as opposed to your constant scrutiny. If you can draw the sword from my scabbard, I will lay down my li-- Eddard was interupted as the fingers of his right hand, the arm that contained Eid's gem, writhed inhumanly as the arm bolted across to his left hip to clumsily wrap around the handle and begin to pull the blade free. Eddard reacted quick, grabbing the right wrist with his left hand and preventing it from completely drawing the sword.
Quit resisting me, this has to be done.
If you can't overcome my resistance, how can you overcome something that makes your fellows, by your own words, 'cowards'?
Eid could only bellow in defeat.
XiaoRen A new name for the Crown? She doesn’t mean “Harmodius.” If that were gone, we would all have forgotten it. There were names and there were Names. Harmodius had spoken them into Being, with a sound for which Gianfar could only make similes – innumerable pipe organs, the sea in caves, avalanche, wild fire. It was the Old language. The Grigori spoke it. Samyaza’s rhymes were the Great Song bridled, hobbled and chained into something their ears could ride. She could speak their First Names. Did she know it, to take it, His Name?! Has she Unmade Him thus? And now she asks for mine!
But Gianfar was just the name of a star, a god that had faded Ages before. Could it hurt him any more than Thoth, or Sarasvati, for her to know it? It was how everyone knew him, that must lend it power. But he was a dreadful liar.
“They call me Gianfar, in this Age.” He fell into step alongside her gliding gore. She hovered many heads taller. He imitated her speech, wondering if he Knew it, if he could remember that Oldest of tongues. If only she spoke it pure, for him to hear, just once. That would be real Power, perhaps enough to keep things Made without the Throne. “The old names dance like Ezekiel's bones on your lips.
The gods have always had so many.
The Grigori few, but never wanted any.
Ramuel, Danel, Batraal, Tamiel, Turel, Asael, Akibeel, Anane, Azazye…”
He shaped them without breath, like speaking when he flew in the wide plains between the stars, but those shapes hulked even further, where even distance wasn’t.
“Why hurry to meet them? They have waited this long.
Won’t you humor an old man, a snippet of the Song?”
That must be where she is going...to free the others, or tell them the news.
It was so tempting to go with her, to see the Ashlands. He wanted the Power she had, not to Unmake, but to Change. But he was no match, alone, for one, let alone 10 Grigori. And there was Revei, sleeping upstairs. Could he leave him?
It might not be an issue, the others certainly didn’t look keen to let her leave the room.
Ivynian
"To hurry is to waste, though I have other tasks to face. Others places, other times. Rather the stroll here for the passing of the Signs. “
"Though I would speak with you again ...Gianfar..."
She rolled the syllables in however she spoke, mouth moving only so much as a shifting of her jaw as though a name could have flavour. Or cables therein were pulling as though to communicate in mundane manner.
He would know well enough where to find her.
It would be more prudent to strike him down, Knowing was dangerous. But this was a hair's width showdown, each with hands on their hilts and preparing to draw. A first move would cinch the occasion. The group of them was hesitant, afraid, and uncertain. The ache of Gehenna was in them, and most of them looked so blank. There was no memory in those many eyes. Mortal eyes. Mortal, dying eyes, hollowed from the inside like pumpkin lit from within by divine candles....set out on holiday. But festival goods always rotted over the following weeks, wet and brown, and the candles...
The candles always burned out.
Her pace did not falter, following the initial motions of the panic-boy; there was a window beyond the couch. Closer portal, ruder then the door. Battles she had seen plenty of, but it was not her preference. Wasteful. Sad to let go the opportunity of the kings. It would take too much to focus on single targets and the mana that flowed in an out of each. "It is a good name, gentle syllables that are easily moved to question....up-lilted as a plea for help."
"I am glad you remember my name."
The window was behind her.
Perri Indiya Eamnonn swallowed a growl at Knowledge's mimicry of Samayaza's speech, strung too tight not have thoughts of "Traitor!" slide behind his eyes. He held himself as still as possible, only moving to track the Grigori's movements. She was going through the window. Beware the blood splatter.
Eftemie Jaster's pace there had been somewhat slower than the others as he was unknown to them and uncertain that his movements further inwards would cause the distraction he was trying not to move into play, but he was also newly fused and lacking the strength the others appeared to have and of little threat to her. He had ignored others as he and Saljin slipped past them, quickening his pace and stride to slip around the corner and into the next room even as he noted her moving. He was of little threat to her. But he soon knelt down beside the two as they tried to bandage, sliding his arms beneath the girl on the floor and raising her up slightly in support. The blood little mattered to him though for once he tried not to study the fascination things of such a nature held for him.
"Raising her upwards a bit should help you." he stated softly, voice definitely not an order. He did not know them.
It seemed odd that her arm was gone, but he braced her body for them as much as he could. His thoughts returned to the missing appendage. Why would someone take an arm? And where was it? What exactly had happened? He turned his head, trying to see about the room, but his focus was needed on what they were doing. Trying to save her life.
Missing?
The sensation he received from Tajnevaki was a question rather than an agreement. Something incoherent slipped down over him and Taj shoved against him forcefully. Now was not the time to try to push his way forwards. It would hinder what he was trying to do, so Jaster fought to keep his attention on helping and he won. But the feeling was not dismissed and he thought about the reaction silently watching them tighten the wrappings to stop the blood. Was Taj asking if it were really missing or saying that it was not? Sometimes his cryptic answers were annoying if they were in the wrong spot.
"Saljin, start looking around for the lady's arm. I don't understand why it would be missing. A fight might have cut it off, but I would think that it would be lying here beside her. Taj likened the one out there as empty and waste, but I-we have no power to face her. There is no trust there though."
Saljin rumbled in extreme uneasiness as a growl slipped free, but he began looking around. His nose stirred the nooks and crannies behind the statues and all the places bloodied. All he found was dust until he followed the stairs upwards to stare at what was left of the one there.
Pained surprise slammed into his senses for the second time that day, and the feline form he wore shifted, vanishing to replace fur and claws with skin and clothing. Saljin stumbled backwards a step, finding himself sprawling. Staring in wonder, he found himself opening his mouth to speak only to say nothing.
Red hair and gold? Was that- that...? Saljin was quite uncertain how to describe what had been done and it was hard even with the things he'd seen to wrap his mind around what this was. Was that the god they had been looking for? To find him in such a state would sting and he glanced over at the younger man as he tried to help with the shattered girl. He shook his head, finding his voice.
"No arm, Jaster. I do not think it is here. The one up there cannot be helped. It will take more than we can do" His words were truth but not informative. They could not be. Not yet. Not to Jaster.
"Then we take care of her first. When we get her bandaged, we will move her to one of those round couches. It will be more gentle until a solution to them presents itself." His voice soft, but even then Taj pushed again, this time shoving hard into Jaster not unlike hitting him with a book that had pale hair behind it. He winced gasping in painful surprise as thoughts and images spun. A book with hair? He blinked. Literati?
"Someone needs to tell them that her arm is missing. Taj just threw a mental book at me to act, so.. the one called Literati I would guess." His voice was loud and clear with no name to call the master of books, but how far his tone would carry, he did not know. The three of them were busy.
Zero Dream She was heading for the window. Going to flee, and with her, the knowledge of what had truly happened. This was no longer a time for hesitation. She had to act, and act now, before some of the younger ones rushed for her in despite of the warning that had been given.
Adi quickly exchanged hands - from the goddess to her aoidei. Concerto did not even require an explanation - he ducked behind the stairs with the young girl. Echo was willing to put herself at risk but... not her. Not Adi, who had probably been caught unaware in all this mess. Where was Rio ?!
She couldn't afford to think about it Not right now. She turned and watched the creature.... The grigori once more. She had probably known what the name had meant, once, but there was no recalling of this now. Perhaps it was far too gone. She cursed her own inexperience mentally and did the only thing she could think of, the only thing she could really do that did not seem completely, utterly foolish.
She sang.
Her voice started out low, then steadily gained in volume. She had done this before, even if she had honestly wished she could have forgotten this. She had stopped a mortal in their tracks with her voice, once.
But this did not seem like a simple mortal.
Her words where not normal words, or at least, did not seem like a language anyone might have known. She had no time, so she simply sang on different melodic scales, and focused on Samyaza. Her voice was as calm as she could keep it, both to try and contain her panic, and not accidentally sound the first rush of war. No... Perhaps Gianfar would get something out of her if she managed...
No, she had to stop thinking. Stop thinking and focus. Hopefully the others would be smart enough to react accordingly. If this foolish attempt even worked.
Don't move...
(( This is a good idea of what Echo's singing would be like, if anyone wants / need it. *waits for Sosi to lol at her on aim >>*))
Meepfur Finn-att was tired of waiting - tired of standing and listening, watching everyone else wait, or else tend to the fallen Goddess. Tired of looking at that Thing - though Knowledge called it Queen, he couldn't see it as a being of either gender, hardly a being at all. Ugly, wrong, dangerous. Whatever evil had happened here to draw them, it had been the cause.
..and yet everyone simply stood, and watched it move to take its leave. What were they waiting for? Surely they couldn't mean to just let it go. So why did they not move? The centaur would have expected more action from Gods, particularly against those who wronged them, and Samyaza certainly had.
His frustration grew and became anger - not just at the Grigori-Queen, but at all others in the room as well. Cowards! How could the Gods be cowards? Even the one inside him sought to hold him back, to soothe his ire. But he would not have it. He was tired of it. Most of all, he was tired of standing idly by; and not just as he was this moment, but as he had for a year or more. Waiting, trapped, reined in by Night in a world of stone and stairs; he was tired of listening, tired of doing what he was told.
Someone had to move, and he wasn't going to wait any longer for someone else to do it, for a by-your-leave.
But then one...began to sing? It was, without question, meant to do something, but what he didn't have any real idea. So he decided to treat it as a convenient distraction, and moved, despite the horrified grasping of Itztlac at his mind. Finn-att surged forward, charging at Samyaza - he would jump the couch, draw his sword and strike at her.
At least, that was his intention...whether or not it would work out that way remained to be seen.
Inle-roo Ellis bristled at the sound of footsteps softly padding towards him before he forced his body to relax--it couldn't have been the thing out there, it had no feet and sounded to be in conversation he was too preoccupied to eavesdrop on anyway. He turned his eyes from the raw wound he was tending to dart a look over his shoulder, almost relieved when he found it was a tiny woman rather than a big scary thing. She couldn't have possibly posed a threat, and he was confident enough in his masculinity to be sure he could have kicked the a** of such a small creature anyway. Nonetheless, he was relieved when she wordlessly offered him more cloth to use to stem the flow of blood from this as-of-yet unnamed woman.
"Do you think you can tear that into strips?" Ellis asked quietly, nodding towards the extraneous garment. "We can at least wrap the wound up, a little. My shirt's gonna be pretty useless as a band-aid soon." Indeed, blood was already starting to seep through his fingers where they held the sodden cloth to the place Gaia's arm used to be.
Another man joined them soon enough, and he hunched over the unconscious woman protectively as this stranger propped her up. "Be careful," Ellis chided him, shifting on his knees to keep his ruined shirt pressed tightly against the wound. Wary eyes watched the interplay between new host and unknown quantity when a voice from the main room grabbed his attention. It was singing, of all impractical things--such beauty in so horrible a setting. He wanted to listen, but was hastily reminded that this was neither the time nor place.
"Yu," he called over his shoulder, taking the other man's suggestion to heart, "you're closer. Ask it where the arm is!"
khiarhu Six eyes narrowed at Gianfar - Knowledge would have explaining to do, should they survive this encounter. He slunk closer to the Grigori-woman, to Samyaza as she moved; teeth bared and muscles tensed at the ready should she think to attach him or those behind.
Large ears were listening intently to what the creature was saying - she had more to do...obviously, destroying their Lord wasn't enough! Yu filed that information away for the moment and willed Gianfar to keep her talking, to keep her from escaping out the window as it seemed she wished to do.
A woman was singing and some great horse-bodied creature surging forward to do battle - where
The human, Neva's host, called to him -- The arm? Gaia was missing her arm? Memory tickled at the Dragon King's memory but turned forth no great realizations. Heavy feet moved him yet closer - not past the statuary, for he despite the free-falling chaos that was rolling into play, he was not yet ready to die.
"Her arm, Gianfar--" Yu's tone suggested that the scholarly looking god's name might well have been distasteful to him; "Gaia's arm is missing!" Words, words over singing and over the heavy hoof-beats...over the scent of blood and the salt-sting that came with the uncertainty in one's own comrades --just words, but words needing answer, demanding recognition!
He hoped that Knowledge had heard him.
"Give us the answer, Half-formed! Rotting!" Fragment's voice, gravelly and rough hissed past Yu's choke-hold; his Dragon was splitting his attention in many directions. Fragment took advantage of this; flinging his demand not at Gianfar, but at her
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