Division of Absurdities

[The Demented One]

”Now that I have all of you assembled here, allow me to summarize just what happened.” Chejop Kejak, older than a Yeddim’s age, strokes his beard thoughtfully, as if dredging up what comes next from the deepest mire of memory. This is not the case. Such great infamies have a way of writing themselves in all capital letters across the slate of the mind–perhaps Chejop’s feigned meditation is a courtesy to you, an attempt to downplay the magnitude of what you have done. But no, courtesy is not to be found among the extensive vocabulary of Chejop Kejak’s actions. Perhaps he merely pauses to give you time to mull over what you have done.

”At 13 o’clock on the 21st night of Descending Water, the first test of a prototype ‘Dragon Rail’ system was initiated. The test proved an utter, catastrophic failure. The geomantic machinery overloaded and inverted a major leyline leading from the Blessed Isle to Gem, resulting in the destruction of much of the Heptagram Academy’s campus–a campus that I will remind you is a valuable base of operations for us–and nearly a quarter of Gem. I will repeat myself, for emphasis. A quarter of Gem exploded.” Though his face is famed for being a total cipher, completely unreadable, Chejop Kejak is clearly outraged at this. The gleam in his eye, the arch of his brows, the timbre of his voice–he waxes wroth, and he waxes wroth at you.

“Now, the Division of Secrets happened to have an operative in the city of Gem, none less than Nara-O himself. Had he been there when the geomantic overload first started, it would have been entirely within his power to prevent, or at least mitigate the damage. However, an hour before the incident, several of the alarms warding his office were triggered, and he returned to Yu-Shan to investigate. He found that a Sidereal–and a Sidereal in his own Division, mind you–had tried to break into his office, with the intent of stealing heavenly secrets.” Is that a hint of shame in his voice, of embarrassment? As the head of the Forbidding Manse of Ivy, he surely would have been investigated at part of the break-in, which no doubt displeased him severely, only exacerbating his long-standing rivalry with Nara-O.

”Rebuilding the leveled districts of Gem would normally be entirely within the realm of our ability...however, due to a botched attempt at an arranged marriage by a Division of Serenity agent, a civil war engulfed nearly the entire Southwest, stretching as far of Gem. What military forces we have in Southern Creation could have intervened, if they had not been routed in a battle against An-Teng’s army in which their commander, a Division of Battles agent, is believed to have betrayed the interest of Heaven itself. As a result of the civil war, the entire city of Gem was engulfed in a Shadowland. Ladies and gentlemen, we have no means of salvaging Gem now. Every man, woman, and child is either dead or undead, according to the latest horoscopes. And, to top it all off, a Division of Endings agent attempted to arrest a major Celestial God with neither warrant nor evidence, and managed to destroy said god’s office with a ‘warning shot’ from a stolen essence cannon. Can you imagine how much Bureau time has been wasted with satisfying Amo...I mean, this Celestial God’s hurt feelings? Because of the reparations we’re paying to him, our operational budget for the East has been cut by 5%. The East. Where most of the newly returned Solars have set up their kingdoms or sanctuaries. So you can understand why I am not happy with this series of events.”

He eyes the five of you, looking you up and down. The emeralds of his eyes burn no longer with anger; they cool to a soft moss-darkgreen. ”Each of you was tried for your part in the Gem Incident, tried and found guilty. Approximately an hour ago, the five of you were executed. As you may have noticed, it didn’t take. You are alive because I have decided that you are useful to me.” He stands up from his desk, and begins pacing back and forth. By now, he is no longer the stern lector; his mien is nearly paternal.

”Do not be mistaken. You are not escaping punishment. Your artifacts have all been registered and tagged by my Division; you will be allowed to continue using them, but I will know when and where you do so. Your manses have been placed on the Heavenly Market and sold, I have bought them all. You will be allowed to continue residing there, under Division surveillance. Your official salary has been completely cut off, though I will personally pay you at the same rate, for the sake of economic ease. All official Divisional, Conventional, or Factional backing has been terminated. You will be permitted to remain in contact with your sifus, although they will be reporting each and every detail of your training to me. Consider your execution deferred, not overruled.” His voice is far kinder than it should be when discussing matters of punishment; it is clear that he does not consider these measures punitive, but precautionary. ”Officially, you are dead. However, by the time we finish speaking, I imagine that every significant figure in Heavenly politics will know what I have done, so do not waste effort on keeping up the masquerade. It does no harm to my efforts to have you known.”

A glimmer of a grin crosses Chejop’s face, as he reaches the conclusion of his speech. Though he was chosen by Jupiter, not Saturn, he nevertheless takes some small pleasure in reaching the climactic moment. ”Which brings me to the purpose for calling you here. As of this moment, I am officially forming Division Six of the Bureau of Heaven. Agent membership consists of Meteoric Hashi, Sarena Ragela Theiric, Jerewen the Red Widow, Forgotten Ivory Scripture, and Scattered Sands of Fate. The position of Division Head is given to Arcadelt, God of World-Shattering Events. The position of Astrological Liaison and Executive Countersignatory is given to Hayesi, the Divine Secretary of Affirmation. The position of Administrative Oversight is given to Chejop Kejak.” The seer clearly enjoys the pomp of the announcement, relishing the farcically official tone of his pronouncement.

”The purpose of this Division will be to serve the agency of Fate to the fullest. Whenever there is a mission too dangerous, too risky, too embarrassing, too absurd for any other Division to carry it out, it will fall to you. If you were to choose to ignore the metaphor of this as a ‘Sixth Division,’ then you could think of yourselves as belonging to me from now on. What I say goes. If you decide to argue with my commands, then you might as well consign yourself to the executioner, and Creation to destruction.” The last statement is utterly serious, with no trace of humor. None at all.

”Now, let’s move on to your first mission. The Cathedral on the Rock is numbered among the elite martial arts academies of the Blessed Isle, famed throughout Creation for training Dynasts in the Immaculate styles and in other Celestial arts. As you might imagine, the school is headed by a Sidereal agent–Sifu White Lotus, one of the finest men to work for the Division of Battles in a Yeddim’s age. White Lotus personally teaches a small class of Dragonblooded in the more esoteric Celestial styles, each student hand-picked and placed on a personally-tailored regimen of katas, meditation, yoga, and diet. We have received information, however, that one of Sifu White Lotus’s students is in truth one of the Fair Folk, a faerie hidden in the shape of a Dragonblooded. This information...did not come from White Lotus. He has no idea, and it would be tremendously embarrassing to both him, the Cathedral, and the Division of Battles were this to be found out. Therefore, your mission. You are to infiltrate the Cathedral on the Rock, find the Fair One, and dispose of him in whatever manner you see fit...without letting Sifu White Lotus ever know there is so much as a Sidereal in his school. Do you understand?”

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Scattered Sands of Fate leaned back, his black, purple-trimmed monk's robe belted loosely at the waist as he rested against a wall. He had to grin a little when Chejop mentioned the destruction of Amoth's office. That bastard deserved all that, and more... and if Sand had his druthers, he'd get his recompense, in the end.

But for now, the Chosen of Endings had to make sure that he didn't get ended prematurely, and that meant working for the old man himself. Chejop Kejack. A real living legend.

Of course, just because he was a legend didn't mean Sand trusted him one whit. Kecjack was a master manipulator, after all, and he had no doubt there was more behind this than they were being told - Then again, that was pretty much always the case in the Bureau.

There was, however, one question he felt compelled to voice. "So how does one of those soulless abominations slip in under the eye of an experienced Bureau agent like that? This creature mus be incredibly stealthy. If a Master couldn't pick up on it, how will we?" he asked. Implied, but never stated, was the other option: That something had gone terribly wrong with Sifu White Lotus.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi looks entirely out of his element: he's a lanky, dusky-skinned fellow with curiously light hair and a nervous smile that betrays how truly and utterly dissappointed he is in himself. Clearly, life is not working out quite as he'd expected. He looks down as Kejak addresses his part in "the Gem Incident." Throughout the entirety of the speech, he's fidgeting about, trying to find his center. He finally settles for a subtle, tactile examination of the contents of his many coat pockets. Satisfied that Hearthstone is indeed still in one piece, he returns his attention to Kejak just in time to hear the description of White Lotus.

"It's just one Raksha," he says at last, soft but well-meaning. He addresses himself to Sands more than Kejak, out of fear. "How can it even present a real threat inside of Creation?"

[The Demented One]

Chejop coughs, almost uncomfortable. "Sifu White Lotus is an old friend of mine. When your fate was but a gleam in Asna's eyes, we served Fate together, walking the earth and righting what demons or faeries set wrong. And even then, White Lotus was a master of every martial art he practiced...but he was not the brightest star in the sky." The wizened seer clearly does not wish to speak about this, but knows he must. "I will put it plainly. Sifu White Lotus has not uncovered the presence of the faerie in his school because he is dull-witted and unobservant to a degree unworthy of any of our number. This maladroitness of mind is why he cannot be assigned to field work or Bureau leadership, but he is too experienced and respected to simply be disgraced by stripping him of his position. That is why we had him assigned to the Cathedral, where we thought he would prosper, and do no harm. A miscalculation, I confess. And now it is left to you to fix it."

He then turns to answer Hashi's question. "I believe you don't fully understand the situation. It is one, as you say, 'Raksha.' One Raksha that has entered Creation and managed to live on the Blessed Isle for at least a year without being caught. One Raksha that is currently being tutored in Celestial martial arts by a grandmaster, incidentally proving that the Fair Folk can learn more than Terrestrial styles. Hashi, you've always been a scientific man. What do you hypothesize would occur if White Lotus attempted to initiate the Raksha into a Sidereal style? I have consulted with Xaos on the matter, and he speculates that, even if the Raksha were destroyed, the potential to self-initiate into Sidereal styles would be introduced into each and every Raksha in the Wyld. The Fair Folk nearly destroyed Creation once, with little more than mass numbers. Tell me, what would be the outcome of an invasion of Creation staged by thousands of faeries capable of Sidereal martial arts? Is there any chance that Creation survives? That, boy, is why the faerie must die."

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi opens his mouth as if to respond but closes it again, made uncomfortable by the sheer gravitas of the elder Sidereal. He closes his eyes, imagines, and then returns, blinking, to the world around him, filled with a brief confidence that he wastes no time in utilizing:

"Is that a bad thing? Not Creation being destroyed, but this Raksha opening this new path for his species--as I understand it, after several thousand years of trying to initiate the Dragon-Blooded into our secret styles, we've only managed to invent entirely new ways of helping them commit suicide. The structural integrity needed to produce the emulatory properties of Sidereal Martial Arts is beyond them. If it kills this Raksha in the attempt, would any other Raksha be different? Properly engineered, we could prompt this Raksha into introducing a specific instability into his entire species, couldn't we? Give the Raksha a new and interesting way to commit suicide?"

Hashi's tone is one of honest inquisition, his eyes are alight with a rare mental fire that, like his mind, burns only briefly. Now that the statement's out there, it's as if he's let all the fire slip out. His posture stiffens and slumps and he takes a renewed interest in the color of his shoes.

"I mean, I was just wondering."

[The Demented One]

"You misunderstand me, boy. Xaos has speculated that a Raksha, once it had integrated the conceptual reality of Celestial martial arts into its corporeal assumption, could successfully learn and practice Sidereal martial arts without suffering the same conceptual inversion that has plagued our program for Dragonblooded prodigies. If the faerie were to be destroyed by outside forces, though, its destruction would cause the shinmaic sutras of the Sidereal styles to be integrated into the Wyld, turning every one of the Fair Folk into a threat I would be hard-pressed to defeat." Kejak's tone is that of the teacher, explaining to a student his most obvious mistakes. "And even if Xaos is wrong, and the attempted initiation kills the faerie, do you think the Wyld is static? Do you think it cannot adapt? Even were the faerie to fail and suffer conceptual inversion, the potential would have stabilized within the seventh generation of Fair Folk to come after. All it would do is cast the problem off on whoever my heirs may be. Unacceptable."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

The Chosen of Endings nodded. He wondered, once again, if they were being played. Did Kejack really just want them to end a threat to Creation and keep an old colleague from being embarassed? Or was there some ulterior motive?

In the end, Sand supposed it didn't matter. They'd do the job or die trying. Or die for failing. There was probably going to be a lot of that sort of thing from now on, come to think of it.

Oh well. Kept life interesting, at any rate. The concept of killing the creature didn't particularly worry Sand - at least, not on an ethical level, though he was a bit concerned about what it might be capable of by now. He was, after all, one of Heaven's assassins. Just another day on the job.

"As you say." He said with a nod, glancing around at the others, his violet eyes bright. Kill the Raksha, don't embarrass Sifu White Lotus, and don't get caught?. Any other instructions? He quirked a little grin. "Not as though what we've already got isn't enough."

[The Demented One]

Kejak shakes his head. "No. Unless you have any other questions, you're free to disperse and ready yourself however you will–I'd expect you have artifacts to collect, destinies to weave, perhaps messages to send. I'll have a gateway to the Cathedral drawn up at midnight, on terrestrial time." He nods at a clock standing in the corner of his office, its cogworks measuring the passage of time by the twelve and thirteen hours of Creation, rather than the fluid abstractions of Heaven. "If I should decide to send you any further instructions, I have a resplendent destiny of the Rising Smoke on hand. As long as you stay dressed, I should have no problems contacting you." Completely serious.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand sighed, his own tone as deadpan as Kejack's. Well damn. There goes my usual pre-mission visit to the Elegant Lotus of Ten Thousand Fleshy Delights. He looked around at the others, a wry, yet strangely cheerful grin on his face. "Since that option's off the table, anyone up for meeting up for a cup of tea and a little chit-chat to get to know each other? Y'know, since we'll all probably die screaming together."

[Lochar]

Wiped, on account of I can't get my thought together right.

[GryffonDurime]

"Tea sounds good," Hashi says, sighing loudly. "I just need to swing by the remnants of my house. I need to pick up my ar--" he says, suddenly realizing that Kejak may take badly to his taking Celestial Battle Armor along with him. "...Armoire. There is something very important in my armoire. Personal nicknacks. Tchotchkes. Ephemera, really," he says at last.

"Where were you thinking?" he asks Sands. "I used to know a nice little tea shop just down the street from where I live. It wasn't built to withstand very much, though," he says, a twinge of guilt in his voice.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand shrugged a little at Hashi's question. Mmm? Oh, I'm impartial. Don't have a particular favorite, so if anyone else does, we can go with theirs.

[Lochar]

"I don't, not particularly. As long as their not serving Maiden's tea, at least." The last member of the group said. "As for introductions, I think we all made waves enough that we at least know each other by rumor." A chuckle then. "Forgotten Ivory Scripture at Kejak's service. Fairly better known as Scripture."

[GryffonDurime]

"Meteoric Hashi, Chosen of Mercury," he says with a bow and not a hint of sarcasm. "It's a pleasure."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Scattered Sands of Fate. Servant of Saturn He replied with a nod of his head. But I generally go by just Sand.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena Ragela Theiric - the name simply reeks of royalty - simply sits in silence as Kejak speaks. Her serene, impassive expression does crack slightly at the mention of her involvement in 'the Gem Incident', but she tries to remain as composed as possible.

After Kejak has stopped speaking, however, she tentatively raises one hand. "...Sir? Have you ever considered Gem might be cursed?"

[The Demented One]

Kejak rests his face in the palm of his hand. "Don't think I haven't considered it. After the incident, I went through every single destiny that had been placed on the city itself, any of the city's inhabitants, and any high-essence beings in all of Southern Creation. Nothing. I interviewed with all the major gods of natural disasters, including Amoth City-Smiter." A pointed glare at Sands. "Nothing. I even used the Two-Score Mirror Glance to examine my own past, to see if I'd somehow been subverted or manipulated by the enemies of fate. Nothing. Gem was destroyed solely because of the incompetence of five Sidereals. That's all."

[Yuki Akuma]

The former-princess winces a little bit, rubbing the back of her neck. "...It was just an idea..." She frowns a little bit, glancing towards her new associates.

She allows a ghost of a smile, before standing up. "...If you will excuse me. I need to go speak with Zura. He'll be worried sick..." Zura is, of course, the God of Children - all children, so he's pretty important. Kejak probably knows all about her relationship with him, but it seems to catch people off-guard when she just mentions him casually like that - for such a young Sidereal, she's pretty close to him.

She bows towards everyone in turn, the most expansive bow going to Kejak. "Sir."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand arched a brow, but he'd made a career out of being unflappable, so he wasn't about to allow the surprise he felt to show. He nodded briefly.

Sounds good... There's a little place I know near the Cairn Gate called the House of Dusk. They do good tea, and the owner's a God in my Bureau. They rent private booths, so we can have a modicum of privacy - as much as you can get in Yu-Shan, anyway. He said with a wry little smile. How 'bout we meet there in, say, three hours?

[GryffonDurime]

"That sounds perfect," Hashi replies with a small bow as he exits, wilting a bit as he passes under the gaze of Kejak. He sighs in the hallway, setting his back to the wall. This was not how this week was supposed to go. What was it? Saturn's Day? The Dragon Rail was to have run three times back and forth between Gem. Construction was supposed to begin on the second engine. Rails were to be planned that would knit the world together: the Isle first, and the the Threshold. He was supposed to be the talk of the Five-Score.

He supposed that that much was, at least, true.

Now gods laughed as he passed. Now fellow Sidereals clucked their tongues when he seated himself. Now his life was nothing but a lineage of failure.

The walk to his home...his wreckage...was full of averted gazes and gazes that were more brazen: he hated those most of all. The ones who didn't care that he knew they were looking. The ones who examined him, trying to find the marks of failure in the tilt of his eyes or the slant of his nose. They were looking for the visible signs of a man so inept as to be dead. He suspected they were looking for those signs to better find them in themselves--those secret imperfections that were to be covered up and concealed.

Hashi let himself in and helped himself to the last morsel of food in his kitchens before finally returning to his bedroom, his sanctuary. It was a mercy that it had been the only room to remain mostly unharmed, though it did have a stack of rubble in lieu of a proper wall. Hashi filled his pockets as he went, taking a satchel from the wall and filling it with odds and ends: bottles of this and satchets of that. Finally, he came to the armoire. He hadn't lied to Kejak, not entirely. Donning the armor was an affair: countless starmetal bits and baubles to be adjusted and slipped over other bits. He stuffed the boots, the gloves, and the helm into his backpack and then chose his loosest, longest robes.


An hour later, he found himself seated at the House of Dusk, sullenly swirling the contents of his cup and waiting for the other deadmen to arrive.

[The Demented One]

The House of Dusk prides itself for two things. Firstly, for the tea it serves, brewed from more than mortal tea leaves. While the Empress herself made do with a simple infusion of herbs, the House of Dusk offers up teas brewed from the most impossible and esoteric of things: the break of dawn over a silent sea, the rapturous agony of young and unrequited love, the glorious memory of a turn at the Games of Divinity. Only in Heaven could such a tea be brewed, and only by the gods themselves. The Grey Earl, God of Tea, is master of the House, a solemn deity robed in withered, grey tea-leaves. Under him serve the boar-headed god Oolong, God of Black Teas, and the maidenly Sweet Chamomile, God of Herbal Teas. The fame of the teahouse and its gods are beyond earthly measure–when Chejop Kejak and Nara-O meet together to drink tea, it is here that they meet.

The second point of pride for the House of Dusk is its discretion. Only here could five Sidereal Exalts meet, Exalts who had been officially executed only hours before, without anyone, god or mortal, so much as batting an eye (save for Lauss, the Heavenly Minister of Bewilderment, though none take any notice of his pale-faced screams).

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand was the first to arrive. He knew the place well, and he nodded to Sweet Chamomile, giving her a number of fulsome and even outrageous compliments. It was a game they'd played for several years, though he sincerely doubted he had a chance in Malfeas with the lovely Sweet Chamomile. Still, it was nice to engage in something like normalcy after the events of the past few days.

He reclined in one of the velvet-cushioned private booths, sipping gently at his personal blend - he came here often enough - and, moreover, had been helpful to The Grey Earl in a couple of delicate personal matters - so that they kept a small supply on hand for him. It was a mixture of the soft sigh of ocean waves, the bitter-sweet tang of nostalgia and fleeting joy, and the starlight on the Western sea. It was sublime. He waited, once again wearing his robes of armored silk, and resting his gorgeous, intricately-wrought staff over his knees as the others arrived.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena doesn't head for the teahouse yet. No, instead, she heads for Zura's playroom, in order to pay the 'young' god a visit and perhaps talk to him about something.

She finds it somewhat hard to socialise with most Sidereals, although she is going to do her level best now... but first, she needs to speak to Zura.

[The_Snark]

"This is a sham of a mission," is the only greeting the Chosen of Battles gives as she slides into the booth across from Scattered Sands. The stiff, wooden expression she'd worn earlier is gone, replaced with a scowl that makes her displeasure very clear.

And hers is a face well suited for scowling. A charitable person might point to her nose as classically handsome, or compliment her complexion, say (truthfully) that she has good posture. But only the most shameless flatterer could deny that her most striking feature is the eyepatch over her left eye. A close observer might also spot a narrow white scar beside her nose. Were it not for those two features, she could pass for a mortal woman sliding into her middle years—albeit one with her hair cut above the base of the neck in a ragged soldier's cut, wearing a sword at her side.

"He's testing us," Jerewen continues once she's seated herself. Her voice settles from a growl into a more conversational tone, but she doesn't look any happier. "Giving us something we can fail at without actually endangering anything."

[Lochar]

It wouldn't take Scripture long to do what he needed. First thing was getting his artifacts back from Kejak. Reattuning to the bracers and gauntlets was the work of a few minutes, leaving him with the green aura of Secrets flowing around him.

Checking the manse came next. Stepping back onto the grounds of the manse which had been his for years. The temple of Luna stretched up to meet him, and although it was a temple for an Incarna other than his own, Scripture gave a quick prayer of thanks to Luna for the changes that kept him from death.

Finding everything in working order, the Chosen of Secrets waited long enough for his banner to subdue itself, drawing in essence from the manse.

Finally, he smiled and left the manse, heading for the tea house.

[The Demented One]

As the four of you sit down in the teahouse, the boar-headed Oolong approaches, bearing a teapot of black jade. In stark contrast to the silent dignity of the Earl and the maidenly politeness of Chamomile, Oolong is an impish and impolite spirit in the highest degree, delighting in mischief if not outright malevolence. He lays the teapot on the table with affected ceremony, acting as if he waited on Sol Invictus himself. "Most honored patrons, I have procured a special blend that I believe you would favor highly. Compliments of the house–a tea brewed from your own executions." His voice is lush with sarcastic formalism, but he clearly means no great harm by it.

Sarena, on the other hand, enjoys much more pleasant company. She finds Zura in his office at the Division of Serenity, a huge playroom filled with childish toys: dolls, marbles, rubber balls, rocking horses. These simple toys are, in fact, Zura's panoply, the tools of his office. Zura sits cross-legged, reading a pop-up book–the latest report from Dalga, God of Children Who Have Lost Their Two Front Teeth. He waves at Sarena as she enters without bothering to look back, not knowing who it is that enters his office.

[GryffonDurime]

"I don't think that's it," Hashi replies to Jerewen, smiling with anticipation as Sweet Chamomile brings him a cup of dawn sweetened by inspiration. "I think he's leveling with us. It's astoundingly easy to get caught up in something, really. If I was in my usual focus, I don't think I'd notice a Raksha amongst my colleagues at the Heptagram. You don't think that was it, do you?" Hashi says mid-sip, eyes suddenly wide and bright. "A Raksha could've been the one to sabotage my Dragon Rails. They wouldn't want the Order-Conferring Trade Pattern strengthened so..."

[Yuki Akuma]

The young-looking - and, well, actually quite young, being only on the verge of twenty-three - Chosen of Serenity walks sedately into the playroom, looking about to see whether anything much has changed since the last time she was here, moving to tie her long golden hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes.

She has her bracers on - she collected them as soon as she left and tends to wear them whenever she can get away with it. They're under the flowing half-sleeves of her white-and-pink robes, but can be seen when she moves her arms. They're quite plain, being just two bands of starmetal about two inches wide and very, very thin - starmetal is expensive, after all. The setting for the hearthstone is in fact just a hole, although it sizes to fit any hearthstone placed in it so that the hearthstone presses against the skin and doesn't fall out.

She stoops down in front of the god, the paper fans tucked neatly into her magenta sash crinkling a bit. "I wonder... if a friend of yours was to be executed, would you react as a god or as a child?"

[The Demented One]

Zura puts away the pop-up book, taking great care not to crease its spine as he lays it down. Though she cannot see his face, Sarena can nevertheless feel the serene smile he wears, the childish grin of simple happiness. "If a friend of mine had been executed, I would act first as a god–to smite whoever did it–and then as a child, to mourn her." He turns around in one sudden movement, the tranquil smile blossoming into exuberant joy. "But you aren't dead, Sarena, so come here!" He leaps up like a monkey, catching Sarena in a tight hug that belies the fullness of his divine power. His eyes, just over-large enough to be entirely adorable, beam up at her like twin stars. "Everyone in the Lute was talking about you this morning, but Uvanavu told me it was all pretend. So, big sister, what are you doing now that you're off the hook?"

[Yuki Akuma]

"I don't think mister Kejak would be a good idea, although it would be interesting to see what he was like as a child..." Sarena gives a grin, attempting to catch the god but ending up bowled over instead. "Ooph! Not so... tight. I have ribs you know, and I'l like to keep them in one piece!" She tries to, playfully, shove the god off of her.

She sits up, rubbing the back of his head. "...Well. I've changed divisions... apparently. Now there's a sixth division. We're going on missions that involve covering up stuff the Bureau... or at least Kejak doesn't want anyone to know about." She shrugs. "I have to work with four other Sidereals. It's... irritating, but I'll survive."

[The Demented One]

The child-god seems a bit taken aback by this. "So basically...Kejak's giving you even more chores? And the mess you're cleaning up isn't even yours? Ouch, big sister. I'm sorry." Zura is sympathetic as only a child or a dog can be, upset at Sarena's suffering. He runs over to one of the dozen toyboxes that fill the room, and pulls out a plush Kukla doll, well-worn and patched. "Here. It's dangerous to go alone, so take this. I can answer your prayers through it."

He falls silent, assumes a mien of fierce concentration. Then, with a burst of divine essence, the Kukla doll spreads its jaws wide. "SEE? JUST LIKE THIS?" The god frowns a little, staring at the doll. "That was a bit loud...huh. Still, have it. It's my present to you." He tosses the dragon-doll to Sarena, throwing it underhand, like a child first learning to play a game of catch.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand


Sand's face hardened into a grim smile. Oh, I happen to think you were sabotaged. But not by a Raksha. he said, sipping at the new blend of tea. It was... interesting, to taste one's own end. Even in his line of work, it was a novel experience.

[Yuki Akuma]

"Gah!" The Chosen of Serenity jumps away as the toy dragon screams at her! "Uh, wow. N-not so loud next time, okay? You might damage my ears..." She takes the toy with grace, bowing slightly. "...Thanks. I'll cherish it." She grins, standing back up again and reaching down to pat the god on the head. She would ruffle his hair, but... he doesn't have any.

She looks at the toy dragon again for a moment, then sighs. "...I should get going. Have to meet my new... co-workers." She frowns, obviously disliking the idea. "I'd love to spend more time with you, but... duty calls! I guess."

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi holds a cup of tea in each hand, sipping them both in turn: he much prefers inspiration to his demise, but he can't seem to resist continuing to nurse the bitter brew--is this why the other Sidereal stared? Is this what they found enjoyably or irresistable in his downfall?

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Hashi admits, cleansing his palette with a swig of genius. "There's no way I could have missed a geomantic problem of that magnitude," he exclaims, redfaced. Apparently, his demise has been spiked. "I know more about dragon lines than most dragons. Or lines for that matter."

[The Demented One]

Zura smiles, serene as a Bodhisattva. "Good luck with your new job, big sister. You'll have to promise to tell me all about it when you come home, okay?" He does not let any sadness show at Sarena's departure, much as he treasures what time he can spend with her. It would not do for a God of Serenity to weep.

By the time Sarena reaches the House of Dusk, she finds that a cup of tea has already been poured out for her, still steaming hot. "Childhood nostalgia, sweetened the music of bells." explains the lovely Sweet Chamomile, leading the Joybringer to her table. "Your friends have been waiting for you some time now." she says, smiling politely. The sweet demeanor hides not-inconsiderable celestial power, enough to foresee the arrival and order of a new guest. The goddess blushes only slightly as Sarena thanks her, rapt in the attention of one of the most beauteous of the Five-Score.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena smiles as she leaves her "little brother"'s playroom, tucking the plush dragon into her sash as she heads for the tea house. She's... a little confused as she receives her order before making it, but she just thanks Sweet Chamomile with a warm smile before making her way to the table.

Her expression changes into one of serene detatchment as she sits, mumbling an apology for her tardiness.

[The_Snark]

For his trouble, the god Oolong receives a polite smile, followed by a look that clearly says she's waiting for him to be well away before she resumes her conversation. Jerewen cups the tea in her hand, vaguely wondering what it might taste of. Shame and dread? Oily falsehoods? The strong (and would it be bitter too, in this case?) taste of justice carried out? The morbid curiosity of the crowd?

She doesn't drink it yet, of course. She's always held anticipation to be the best part—in fact, her usual brew is made from anticipation, though she's hardly a regular here. Besides, the tea is still piping hot.

"Does it really matter, at this point?" she asks Hashi pointedly, wondering what sort of tea he'd ordered. "Gem's still gone, and we're all still here."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand's eyes flashed with uncharacteristic heat. "Damn right it matters. Because the... person whose fault it really is hasn't been brought to justice. Vengance. Whatever. Point is that too man people met their end before there was supposed to. Whether you want to call it justice or retribution or whatever... but there needs to be balance. Needs to be a little order. You can't just go 'round ending lives willy-nilly. If someone has to die to ensure a greater good, it should be done clean, quick, and professional. What happened in Gem was... abhorrent."

He forced himself to calm, sipping his tea once again, reflecting on the infinite possibilities of endings. He watched Sweet Chamomile work for a moment before turning his attention back to the rest of the group, sighing.

"Sorry about that. I can get a little... obsessive about the job sometimes."

[Lochar]

Scripture takes his tea, and smiles as he drinks of it. For something that did not happen, it has the bittersweet taste of a man saved from death at the last moment. Almost a hair too close, as it even has the coppery taste of his own blood.

"It does make for an interesting draw out for a Deathlord, however. See how they react, no?"

Scripture shrugs. "Be that as it may, what's past is past. And the Chosen deal in the future. Does anyone have any ideas about our current mission?"

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena stares long and hard at Sand, and then just sighs, shaking her head. "Grow up. Don't go blaming other people for your own screw ups." She sighs, looking down into her tea before taking a sip.

Scripture's question makes her consider things for a moment. "Fey are outside fate, so they can't see resplendent destinies... right? Does anybody have a resplendent destiny that is so unlike themselves they'd be able to tell easily when someone can't see it?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand arched an eyebrow, looking dispassionately Sarena. "First of all, I didn't screw up, other than going after Amoth without enough evidence to back me up. I wasn't assigned to Gem, but I wasn't about to let something like that go unanswered, either. Second, I wasn't blaming anyone else for anything I did wrong. Assaulting a god in his own office was idiotic, and I let my desire to bring him in run away with me. So next time you want to insult me or accuse me of something, make sure it's accurate first, eh? Besides that, we have to work together, so perhaps we could try being a little more cordial."

His tone expressed no particular rancor, only a desire to set the facts straight.

[Lochar]

"I have a Scavenger Lord tucked away, but the issue with using Resplendencies is running into the Sifu. He'll see right through it as well. We're supposed to be going in there and getting out with the Fey without getting caught by the Sifu."

Thinking for a moment, Scripture snapped his finger. "Do we think we can get a list of the students? All the students? Any of us with secretaries can query the Loom about the students. Who is the mother, who is the father, stuff like that. If the secretary can't give us information on a student, then we've got someone who is either outside fate, or has had a major effort made to have their information concealed."

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena stares at Sand again. "...What do you have against Amoth? Why do you find it so hard to grasp the concept of a bunch of us just royally screwing up?" She rolls her eyes. "Stop dwelling on the past. We should focus on the future. It's our job. And if we don't do our job right now, we're going to die."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again, thinking before he spoke "Never said I didn't screw up. We all did. That's why were here... and you're right. Nothing else matters right now, so let's just focus on the job at hand. As to the destinies... well, he'll only see through them if we do something to reveal our Sidereal nature. If we can make ourselves look like dragon-bloods... well, we should be fine. Perhaps we can get some sort of transfer letters or something similar? I'm pretty adept with paperwork, maybe I could cook something up.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena shakes her head. "Not what I meant. If, say, I had a destiny of a man, and the fey reacted to me as if I were a woman... well, bingo. But... yeah, the sifu would notice too..."

She hms, then nods. "The Efficient Secretary idea is good." She pulls up her sleeve, and shakes out the little psuedo-Pattern Spider. "You heard the man. I need a full current student roster for the Cathedral on the Rock, along with full family trees for each student up to... let's say three generations ago."

[Lochar]

Scripture raises an eyebrow. "The question now being, will the spider bring back the full list, or will it leave off our Raksha? We'll probably have to get a physical copy from the Cathedral, where someone has written a roster."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand stroked his chin. The problem is that whatever this Raksha is doing, it's unusual, so there's no real way to predict its behavior - even less than normal with one of their kind. It's a good idea, though - see if there are any discrepancies between the lists here and the list there, might give us a starting point.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi swirls his cups as the others bicker about fault and blame--each retort feels like it's driving shrapnel further and further into him. There's always something entirely unnerving about being the first. The others...their mistakes exacerbated the situation. His had instigated it. Could it have been sabotage or...

"We need to have their students break things," Hashi says all at once. "Whichever of us can put on act good enough to fool the Sifu. We get them to break...I don't know. Rocks. Boards. I can restore objects and people damaged by creatures from outside of fate. Whichever one restores itself, there's our Raksha," he finishes without ever looking up from his teas.

"Unless, of course, the raksha isn't the only creature beyond Fate being tutored."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded. Mmm... clever plan. Of course, the trick'll be arranging the whole deal. Should be able to cook up something, though. And if there's more than one creature beyond Fate there... well, that's another problem we'll need to deal with.

[The Demented One]

Sarena's arachnid assistant bows deeply before its mistress, spindly legs clattering across the table. "Yes ma'am. Preparing to download the requested threads from the Loom..." It shudders for a few seconds, legs spastically twitching, before vanishing in a burst of Sidereal essence and stray paradox. After a few minutes pass, it returns–along with a sheaf of papers. "All threads successfully found! Isn't that happy, mistress?" Its voice is gratingly cheerful, so high-pitched that it would draw tears to the eyes of Fyrma, God of Children's Choirs.

[Lochar]

Scripture nods. "Now it's my turn."

Grinning, the Chosen flips his arm over, and his own secretary threads out from the crook of his arm. "What I need, is an exact, perfect copy of the roster of the Cathedral on the Rock, as written by whomever is in charge of the registration of students."

As the spider goes, Scripture looks around. "Now, when we have both copies, we compare. Anyone missing is our most likely suspect or suspects. I have a feeling that we might find a couple are missing, as the Sifu might hide a favored students records from easy plucking."

[The Demented One]

While Sarena's spider-secretary is a giggling, childish pseudodeity, Scripture's proves much more dour. "Hmm." it intones, slowly fading away–first its color dims to mute grey, then it pales to nigh-complete transparency, and finally discorporates entirely. It returns in much better time, bearing a single page. "Download completed." it murmurs, before receding into the folds of Scripture's sleeves.

Cross-referencing the two rosters shows a few discrepancies. One student is on the school roster, but not the Loom-generated one: his name is Saayid il-Saabah. In addition, two students on the Loom roster are not on the school's index: Tepet Yeshiva and Sad Ivory. No explanation for why they would be registered as in attendance by the Loom of Fate, but not the school, presents itself.

[Lochar]

After the cross-referencing, Scripture frowns a bit. Tapping his arm, he pulls out the spider. "I have one more task for you, little one. Two questions," Scripture says, feeding the little proto-spider a bit more of his personal essence. "In Loom or written record at the Citadel of the Rock, which of these three students has had Celestial Martial Arts training? And of the three students, looking in both the Loom and written records again, who are students taught by Sifu White Lotus?"

So that's either 4 or 6 personal motes spent, depending if I need to spend twice for two questions.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

"I would think they've all learned at least a little of the Celestial arts. After all, that's the entire point of the school, isn't it?" asked Sand mildly.

[The Demented One]

The servitor grumbles mechanically, but nevertheless crosses once more to the Loom, tarrying only seconds before returning. This time, it answers in speech, sounding exceedingly tired and put-upon. "Consulting both the Loom and the Cathedral's written records, all three of them are enrolled in Celestial Martial Arts courses. Only Saayid and Sad Ivory appear to be taught by Sifu White Lotus. May I decommission for the afternoon?"

[Lochar]

"Yes, you're excused little one. I will call on you again if necessary, but I do not foresee it in the near future."

Scripture looks at Sands. "So, now we've got two likely targets, and a third possible target. We're down from the whole school to just the few."

Looking at Haishi, Scripture continues. "Now, we can collect items from their workings and try your idea. If nothing else, I do have a Resplendent Destiny of a spy from Great Forks. I could get caught by the students in question and play with them a bit. You did say you could heal people, right?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smiled slightly Hmmm.. let's see... Well, I'm very good at martial arts. I could pretend to be a student, even a guest lecturer, though that last one would probably draw too much attention to us. I can always lurk in the background, play the role of a custodian or something similar and act in a support role. I'm afraid I'm not all that great of an actor, relatively speaking, however, so it'd probably best be a role which will either not draw too much attention to me, or else one which I'm well suited to.

[GryffonDurime]

"I can heal wounds inflicted by those beyond Fate," Hashi clarified, wincing as if imagining those phantom ills. "Whatever beating the honest students provide you would remain all too real...Has anyone else perfected the Underling Invisibility Practice?" Hashi asks in a moment of mild realization. His cup of demise is almost empty: his cup of insight remains half-full, as it should.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded. "Indeed, I have... unfortunately, it won't be at all useful on the Sifu... but then again, it may not be necessary in his case."

[The_Snark]

"Saayid il-Sabaah and Sad Ivory," Jerewen murmurs to herself, committing the names to memory. Now that they've gotten down to the business of planning exactly how to do this, she is more attentive. Even if the mission is a test, it's not a particularly unpleasant one.

"I have as well." she answers Hashi. "I'm also fairly good at disguising myself, even without a destiny; if a raksha can make it past White Lotus, I probably can. Perhaps more relevantly, I know how to bind a creature's dreams. The effects on most beings are subtle, but for a raksha it would be very painful. That might draw it out—or even force it to attack." She frowns; this is not necessarily a good thing.

[Lochar]

"That might be a fair way to do so, actually. Bind their dreams for a day or so, and see what happens to them. The raksha would know better than to attack the Sifu, not if it wants to continue instruction. So if you were to bind one student's dreams at a time, one of us could trail the student until we saw the effects."

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena is always amused by her little spidery secretary. So amused, in fact, that she doesn't even say anything for the moment - she is listening though, but she doesn't trust herself to speak without laughing.

[GryffonDurime]

"It would seem we have a plan, then. And several backups," Hashi says, tipsily sipping at his cold dregs of insight. He's smiling blithely, emptily, as he drips drops of concentrated genius tea into the saucer, watching their menisci curves.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smirked and nodded. "Indeed. So, did anyone have a preference for how I construct my Destiny? If not, I'll just go for something inobtrusive. I can snoop around a bit and keep to the shadows, ready to take care of anything unexpected that comes up."

[The_Snark]

"We don't have a plan yet," Jerewen says tartly, annoyed at Hashi. She would have thought an engineer would understand the importance of planning while sober. "We have several parts we can use to make a plan, but we haven't done it yet. Which of us will be going in? How," she nods to Sand, "will we be explaining our presence? What are we planning on doing once we enter? We need to figure out all of these."

"I don't think I can pull off a martial arts instructor—or not an advanced one, at any rate; the only style I am familiar with is the Violet Bier, and I think someone would notice if we taught that."

[Lochar]

"Normally I'd suggest a Dynast, but seeing as how we have to fool a Sifu as well, even the most thickwitted would see through it when everyone else accepted you, but you couldn't recall the student."

Scripture looks at Sands. "What are your strong colleges, if you're going to be setting a new Resplendency?

To Jerewen, he nods. "I know the beginnings of Ebon Shadow, but nothing even to the form yet. I don't think we're going to be able to go in as instructors."

[GryffonDurime]

"I've still got a resplendency with the Heptagram, if it helps," Hashi volunteers, "and...well. I'd rather not say which style I'm training in," he manages at last, taking a last gulp of the cold tea before setting it--and it's drop-spattered saucer--aside. "No one ever respects Solar Hero Style."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand shrugged, pragmatic as ever. "Whatever gets the job done, I say - though I find Violet Bier does it better for me.

As for my strong colleges... well, I'm best trained in the Sword, but I'm nearly as good at the Crow or the Mask. I mean, I could hide between the walls and on the other side of the mirrors, I suppose, but White Lotus might pick up on that, even if he is a bit thick."

[The_Snark]

"A less advanced student, maybe? I doubt White Lotus knows every student at the Cathedral; unless you tried to pretend you'd been in one of his classes, I don't think he would notice you."

"We could also go as servants, if the cathedral has any." Some schools felt that sweeping floors and cleaning dishes was a fine task for young students who needed to learn patience, or older ones who needed punishment. Some schools—especially those that taught the Dynasts—felt differently.

[Lochar]

Scripture shakes his head. "Mask would probably be your best bet, I'm thinking. Go in as a some sort of sneak, or Immaculate priest. Whatever destinies we use though, we're going to have to be damn careful."

[The_Snark]

"Do we need to wear destinies? We're not going to be there that long—and we're not really supposed to be remembered; the opposite, really. Unless we need to set up some elaborate pretense, we're probably better off without them."

Jerewen takes a sip of her tea, which has cooled considerably by now. The taste is powerful, and it takes a few moments to identify it: the blend of flavors that marked a public spectacle, a mix of strong emotions and sentiments from all those present. Solemnity—even those who disliked her were hardly about to laugh at her execution. Dislike. Guilt (her own? That of the crowd, as her punishment reminds them of any errors they have committed?). Fear. Shame. Morbid curiosity.

She decides it could use a dash of sugar.

[Yuki Akuma]

"Dreaming Pearl Courtesan," says Sarena, while sipping at her tea. "Not that I'm a master of the style or anything, so I wouldn't really pass for an instructor either."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded quietly. It seems no-one was quite sure what path to take, and everyone had conflicting ideas. "All right... I'm thinking I'll just rely on a more mundane disguise or something, then. If there are any, I'll go in as a servant. Fortunately, I'm nothing much to look at, so I won't stand out as long as I dress carefully, and... well, we're forgettable, after all." He added with a grin.

[The Demented One]

Once you've finished drinking your tea and readying your sundry astrologies, the Division, as it is, re-convenes in Chejop Kejak's office. The wizened elder looks you over once more, not quite ready to send you off. His gaze lingers a while on Hashi, taking particular notice of the armor he wears, poorly concealed, under his robes...but he makes no comment. "I hope you've all made use of the time you've been given. I would ask you if you have any more questions, but there is nothing more of use that can be told to you. Maidens' favor!"

He smiles uncharacteristically cheerfully, then claps his hands–once, twice, thrice. With a whumph of displaced air, the Calibration Gate, Heaven's secret doorway, appears–around your feet. The portal yawns wide, and you all fall through it, caught entirely by surprise. The fall through the Gate lasts only seconds, ending on the hard, stony soil of the Blessed Isle. As you stand up and dust yourselves off, you see the Cathedral on the Rock–and what an academy it is! It is built like a castle, with fortress-like walls, imposing spires, and raised turrets. Its namesake rock is a massive stone, like a fang of the Kukla herself, spanning more than twice the breadth of the school itself. And most impressively of all, the Rock seems to float in the air, fixed five hundred feet in the air! Careful inspection, of course, would reveal the countless razor-sharp threads of jade and adamant that anchor the stone to the nearby mountains, holding it aloft, but the sheer imposing grandeur of the academy rarely allows such inspection. In the shadow of the Rock is a small lake, a crystal pool of pure water, with a smile scrap of land, perhaps the size of a lion-horse, in its middle. A cord of woven jade dangles down from a hole in the Rock to the islet, the only apparent means of entrance...save that the cord stops some fifty feet above the island.

[Lochar]

Scripture is only caught off guard for a fraction of a moment, enough time to flex his legs and land properly on the ground on the Isle. Looking at the Rock, he sighs and nods. "Straight in then?"

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi sighs as he examines the Rock. Whatever curiosity he has regarding the rock's...altitude...are washed away by logistical woes.

"It's not that I'm worried about us reaching the rope," Hashi said as he set his pack on the ground. "But...I'm worried about us having to enter in such a public way. You know?" he asks, tapping his shoulders to make sure that his destinies are shucked and carried before removing a tangled mess of starmetal from his satchel: he dons the boots and gauntlets quick enough, then the helm.

"I can Dematerialize three more of us and get us in there...relatively unknown," he says. "But one of us is going to have to go in the front door."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand looked around, impressed despite himself at the Rock's imposing appearance. He had sheathed his staff in a case of wood, a disguise that made it appear as if it were no more than an ordinary weapon, such as any Immaculate monk might use. Otherwise, his appearance was already plain enough to pass unnoticed.

"Sounds like a good plan. I'd volunteer to go in the front, but unfortunately my role relies on being unobtrusive..."

[Lochar]

Scripture looks over the Rock, listening to Hashi. Focusing for a moment, the threads of fate spun around the Chosen of Secrets as he rewrote destiny, pulling the fate of an false man from Great Forks into him.

Smiling at Hashi, he nods. "I can make it on my own, if you need to me to. A spy doesn't get caught. If you see me though, I've probably been spotted. I'll be going in as Silas."


Spending a Willpower to wear the Resplendency of Silas.

Will: 5/6

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena looks up at the Rock critically, hands held behind her head. "...Well that's a waste of perfectly good adamant." She really has nothing else to say.

[The Demented One]

As you plan amongst yourselves, a complication arises–or rather, descends. A pair of voices echo out from the chamber the rope leads up to, the commentary of a pair of observers, unseen. Both voices sound young and tremulous, though possessed of more dignity than most Dynasts ever muster.

"Brother Liyaza! A band of travelers have sought out our hidden school! Surely they must seek the esoteric and forbidden wisdom of Sifu White Lotus, the Thousand Year-Old Dragon, the Sword Who Spares No Anathema, the Grinning Volcano Spirit, master of the Seven Secret Ways of the Fist and the Dignified Mien of Awe-Inspiring Eyebrows! Shall I lower the rope, that they might enter?"

Brother Liyaza answers his sister-monk quickly, with a response clearly learned by rote. "Sister Five-Leaves! Do the travelers assume the aspect of the Humble Beggar Countenance, or cast up their arms in the Worshipful Supplicant Mudra?"

"Uh, hold on, let me check. Nope, they're not. Wait, I think that one might be assuming the aspect of the Humble Beggar Counte...oh, no, that's a sneeze. My bad. So no, definitely not performing any of the Thousand Whirlpools Sucking-Up Katas. But one of them's kinda cute."

"Let's go."

There is the sound of girlish squealing, and the pair of them leap from the man-wide entrance from which the rope dangles, descending to the earth. Liyaza is a young Dynast of perhaps sixteen or seventeen years, head shaved and vestments austerely simple. From the gust of wind that swirls about him, slowing his fall, and the streaks of blue that stand distinctly against his flesh, his aspect seems obvious as that of Air. Five-Leaves sits on his shoulders, legs wrapped tightly around his neck. She seems a mere girlchild, so young that her hair has not even been shaven. The odd twig sticks in her hair, proving her either adventurous enough to find a forest in a martial arts academy that hangs over a rocky valley, or a Wood Aspect.

Liyaza lands gracefully on the island, deftly managing the weight of Five-Leaves on his shoulders. He clears his throat, wipes the sweat of his palms away on his robes, and speaks, without much great confidence. "I am Brother Liyaza, Guardian of the Auspicious Ascent unto the Cathedral on the Rock! Or at least, the monk who got stuck with the night shift as Guardian of the Auspicious Ascent. Anyway, you guys...uh, I mean, thou dare approach the sacred Cathedral without practicing the proper arts of humility, and thus, you must be put to the test."

He points at Scripture, finger wavering in the air like an outstretched dagger. "You! What...is your name?' Without waiting for an answer, he points now at Hashi. It is clear that this is all part of some formal ritual. "You! What...would you seek from the secrets of the Cathedral?" Finally, he points at Sarena. "You! What...are you doing tomorrow night?" He winks, and flashes a faintly blue smile, prompting Five-Leaves to groan.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand grinned at the two monks. If they wanted to play at formality, he could play, too.

I am Walker on the Wind, a humble traveler down life's path. I have come to seek the instruction of the Legendary Sifu in the ways of the warrior. Tell me, noble aspirants, what is needed for us to enter this most legendary sanctuary of the Martial Arts?

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi's eyes dart from side to side under the helmet and he stutters a bit as his turn comes to speak. But Hashi's slick mind clicks into motion like a tangle of gears and the whirring of teeth quickly translates into a fib. He throws his arms up, palms turned forward.

"Don't look at me; just guiding these...fine...travelers. At the request of the Order," he says, Dematerializing just as he moves to make a bowing motion. "All hail the dragons," he adds just before his voice fades with his body into the Immaterial world. He hopes, dearly, that these young monks haven't yet received Celestial Initiation.

Hashi moves to walk away, finding his footing uncertain in his new state. It takes him a moment to adjust before finally figuring out that he has to mean to step on solid ground for it to be so. He tucks himself behind a rock, looking through it's material to wait and see if the others are allowed in.

[The Demented One]

At Sands' question, the two monks laugh, like children recalling a favorite joke from days ago. Five-Leaves leaps from Liyaza's back, and both of them assume an elegant and utterly impractical fighting stance.

"In the East, the cedars reach to the sky!"
"You must leap past their boughs!"

"In the South, the deserts burn without ceasing!"
"You must walk through the flames!"

"In the West, the tsunami crushes all who oppose it!"
"You must conquer the sea!"

"In the North, the winds rush down from the heights!"
"You must outrace the zephyr!"

"And in the Center, a mountain endures all things!"
"You must become that stone!"

Having finished their spiel, the two break from their awkward and uncomfortable stances, shooting each other half-grins. "Or maybe, if you all truly seek to learn at the hands of Sifu White Lotus, Burning Petal of Enlightenment, you could get in for just a kiss. Apiece. Even you, honored spirit." The look of irascible lechery on the would-be lothario's face is almost comical; Five-Leaves seems incapable of stifling her giggles.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi isn't listening to the riddle as he passes through the rock and materializes, quickly removing the more obvious bits of his armor before returning them to his pack. He pulls something from the pack around his shoulders--not as much a material something as an identity. He musses his hair, dons his pack, and runs from behind the rock.

"Guys, guys, wait for me!" he says, feigning a tired pant. "So...what did I miss?"


Personal Essence: 4/14
Peripheral Essence: 27/27
Willpower: 6/8

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smiled beatifically, looking between the two of them. "So which one of you do we have to kiss? or both?" He asked in a light, bantering tone.

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves looks up at the Reckoner, not sure whether to be amused by his humor or just plain disgusted. "Don't I look a bit young for that? Isn't one pervert at a time enough?" she jokes.

[Lochar]

Scripture bows. "I am Silas Irmin, of the city of Great Forks. I have traveled here in the company of these people to learn of the arts taught here for my master, before he decides to attend."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand merely shook his head and laughed. "I was only teasing, lass. No need to get upset. So... What is the test of entrance, in truth? I've heard that the usual method is either ritual combat, or else a series of tasks. Good mystic gibberish, by the way. Lovely thematics with the elements and so forth." He added with a cheeky grin.

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves laughs. "No, I meant no harm. The test of entrance is...well, Sifu White Lotus has rather forgotten what the test of entrance is. He remembers all the lines we're supposed to go through up 'till then, but after that, gornisht. We've kind of just been making up tests as we go along. Hasn't helped Liyaza get laid, though." She shoots him a piercing wink, and he groans the sad susurrus of the Dynast unbedded. "But don't you listen to him, it'll just give him ideas. I'll make you a deal, okay? It's been kind of a boring watch, with just this air-head for company. Tell me a good story, or a joke, or something, and I'll let you up. I've not been to the theater for years, and it's killing me."

[Lochar]

Scriptureilas looks at the two Dynasts. "I've got a fairly good one, about the Traveler in Great Forks."

Moving around the others to stand in front of the Dynasts, Silas begins. "See, it started about, oh, five years or so ago. The Traveler was walking down one of the paths to Great Forks, just watching the folks as they walked and rode down the way. Suddenly, he sees this woman on the side of the road, all done up pretty and such. Problem being, she's a-crying something bad. So the Traveler stops and looks around for what's making her cry. No mud on her, no broken carriage, nothing. So he appears ta her, ta talk and try and figure out what her problem is."

Silas continues on for a good few minutes, spending time talking about how the Traveler was entranced by her voice, and spent a long time talking with her. Never finding out why she was on the road crying, he took her back to his home, and spent days with her, falling in love. "And at the end of a week, the lady vanished straight out of the Traveler's home. All he found was a note. Had a smile on it and a 'thanks for the good story' from the damned fae!"

Silas grins.


Charisma+Larceny (Lieing to make up a story) [roll0]

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand tapped his chin slowly, a smile forming on his face. He leaned on his staff, violet eyes lost in thought as he pondered what he might tell that would amuse the girl. At last, he began to speak in a slow, half-chanting tone.

"Once upon a time, in the west...

There was a couple. Man and wife. They lived alone on a little isle, and had as long as they could remember. She was pale of skin, with russet hair and eyes like the sunlight through the trees in spring, and had a voice that the sea itself would roll into hear, when she lifted it in song - and all the spirits of the waves would dance about, competing with one another just to see her smile.

And the man - Ah! more handsome than the Sun itself, bronze-skinned, as strong and healthy a man as ever one did see, and so fair was he to look upon that the beasts and birds would come out of the trees to look upon him.

On their little isle, they lived, from time out of mind, their days and nights filled with song and laughter, with feasting and the making of love. Life was sweeter than wine, and more heady. But, as with all happiness, it was not to last.

The Moon herself looked down upon the man, and she grew jealous - so great was his beauty that she desired the man for herself. And so, one night as they both slept, the moon herself came down in a chariot of silver-glass, and bore the man away, hiding him on her dark side, where no-one else could see, binding him in enchanted slumber while she cavorted with him in his dreams.

The woman searched for him, high and low, all along the little island. The beasts and the birds helped in their search, but the moon had blinded their eyes with her magic, so that they knew nothing. And the woman despaired, and as she wept in the night, the stars, who had seen it all, took pity on her. And a brilliant green star spoke to her, telling her where her lost husband had gone. And a yellow star built for her a bridge of its light, and on it she strode into the heavens, sailing in a ship of gossamer and dreamstuff, and so came to the cave where her love lay, bound in enchanted slumber.

And so she came before the Moon herself, and the lady sang a song; of love and of loss, a song to end all songs. So sweet was her voice, and so deep the ocean of her love, that even the capricious Moon was moved.

But those who have walked out of the realm of men cannot so easily return. And so the stars made a place for the pair among them, and there they stay still - two stars together as one, sailing through the ocean of night until the end of time."

[The Demented One]

"Heh. Heheh. snickers the little Dragonblood, perhaps reading a bit more of the risque into Scripture's story than was meant. "I don't think I should understand why that's funny, but...heheheh." Her giggling stops only when Sand begins his story.

The girl seems unfazed by the story, perhaps not yet mature enough to understand. But Liyaza seems truly touched by it, his eyes glistening with tears as the Reckoner finishes. "That's...that's so beautiful. Immaculate Mela, such sadness..." He stops to wipe his tears from his eyes, wetting the sleeves of his gi. "Come up, all of you." A wind swirls about him, and he leaps up into the sky. Propelled on the cloudburst, he swiftly ascends to the Cathedral, with the five of you, along with Five-Leaves, rising in his wake. Within mere moments, you pass through the entrance, and alight within the school. The entrance chamber is small, not meant to hold so many as now stand there–little more than an aerial guardpost.

Five-Leaves helpfully proffers directions. "We can't leave our watch...well, we can, but I'd feel bad letting White Lotus down like that. You can go on up to the main hall and sleep there if you want. Or you could wait with us, White Lotus will be by in a few hours to change the watch, and try to remember our names."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smiled. "Well, it's a little cramped in here... but I'd be fine with either. Before we decide, though, tell me - is there anyone else in the school, besides Sifu White Lotus? That we should be aware of? Or beware of? I don't want to step on the toes of someone with a rich uncle or somesuch. Dodging assassins is such a bother." He added with a little smile.

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves laughs. "Silly, you're in the only celestial dojo that isn't an Immaculate monastery. Of course everyone here has rich and famous family, we're the next generation's elites. My great-great-uncle is Cynis Belan, and even Liyaza is somethingth cousins with that Roseblack girl. But we try to keep family out of the school, you know? There's about fifty of us in all, split into underclassmen and seniors. As long as you stick to dojo code and observe face, you won't have to worry about any of them."

[Lochar]

Scripture shrugs. "Do they allow Outcaste here? My master sent me here, if you'll recall what I said. He's got a good bit of clout in Great Forks, but he wasn't going to come here without finding out if he would be accepted."

[The Demented One]

Liyaza weighs in, with the tone of a student correcting a misinformed pupil. 'Sifu cares nothing for family or clout; any man who proves his prowess will be taught. He has even seen fit to tutor mortals, as much as he can. Our familial connections are...tangential to our position here. It affords us the means of training and a heritage of excellence, but the true measure of the student lies in his fists alone." Five-Leaves seems to disagree with this, but keeps quiet.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smiled broadly. "As it should be, in my humble opinion... it should be a joy to learn from such a wise master. Would you mind telling me a little about any of the other students here who you thing are particularly significant? I always like to know as much about potential opponents as I can, since I imagine I will inevitably be sparring with them."

[Lochar]

Scripture bows to the two men. "Then maybe I will try to pick up some of the training offered here, before I report back to my master."

Looking down the hallway, he nods. "'Fore I go though, could you explain the dojo code to me? I don't wanna accidentally make a mistake and get someone mad at me."

[The Demented One]

Liyaza humbly nods at Sands' request, and begins his exposition. "If you should spar with an underclassman–and as a new recruit, I would imagine you will–there is little to fear. Most have mastered only terrestrial styles, Five Dragon or Terrestrial Hero. Only the best of them have even initiated into celestial styles. The seniors, on the other hand, cultivate a single celestial style to mastery–mostly the Immaculate Dragon styles, but some followed more idiosyncratic paths." From his grin, it seems clear that this refers to him.

"And then there are the Eight Pearls. While all seniors are taught by Sifu, the elites receive private training from him. Hanzo has mastered Tiger Style; Virlomi dares practice the Art of Anathema; Sad Ivory's knowledge of the Snake and Mantis Styles are unrivaled, even by Sifu. They are perhaps the mightiest of the students–stand against them, and you will fall. Then there is Saayid, a Southern Outcaste, and his two lackies–Resolute Brigada and Kenichi. And finally, there is Five-Leaves, a Dreaming Pearl Courtesan par excellence, and my pitiable self, who is not entirely untrained in the ways of the Ebon Shadow." His humility is affected but not insincere, a discipline learned as part of his training.

While Liyaza prattles of his lists of styles and students, Five-Leaves explains the way things work. "Dojo code is easy–if you've ever trained in a martial arts school, you already know it. Keep to the terms of a match, stop before the deathblow, control your anima, and keep your fights within the dojo. Get that down, and you'll be pure jade all the way."

[Lochar]

"What do Saayid and his two lackies practice as Pearls? You mentioned what the others have learned, but not them." Scripture asks, touching on a point of question.

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves chimes in now, grinning impishly. "Saayid is a Fire Dragon master, and he dabbles in Snake Style. Resolute Brigade knows a fair handful of celestial styles, but only fights with Even Blade–apparently she discovered a variant of it, and even Sifu's excited about it. All above my head, you know? And Kenichi's a Celestial Monkey stylist, although his real specialty is the sleeping-with-Saayid technique, you know?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand laughed aloud. No matter where one travels, it seems like there's always someone who practices that sort of style, eh? So what is the routine like around here? Anything exceptional we should know about? What's the normal schedule, and how should we go about introducing ourselves to the Sifu?

[The Demented One]

"Say hello, bow, and hope he remembers you. He'll put you into whatever class he sees fit–he'll know what's right. All you have to do is what, and slap Liyaza's hand away if he tries to grope you."

"Hey!" protests the Air Aspect, somewhat feebly. "Not while I'm on watch duty."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded. He'd have to tread carefully here - He suspected he'd need to demonstrate his prowess at some point or another, but too openly using the Violet Bier would compromise him, at least in front of White Lotus. Not to mention the difficulty of finding their target in the first place, though the advice of these two was helpful in that regard.

"Thank you for your assistance. It's nice to find people so willing to help a stranger."

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi sighs as Sand and Scripture take over the conversation--he feels an immense discomfort in the heart of the school. Learning Solar Hero Style had been more a lesson in force than finesse, and as so many had been pointing out to him, he lacked the usual Sidereal subtlety.

"It's good to have made it here at last," he says softly. "Could've sworn that forest we went through was part of the Bordermarches. S'not safe," Hashi says, snorting gently before wiping his nose--he was beginning to think he was allergic to this destiny. "Goblins and their ilk."

[The Demented One]

The hours pass quickly till dawn, the two Dynasts regaling you with stories of their more impressive sparring matches or combat injuries ("And then, Sad Ivory performed 'Monkey Snatches the Peach' with both hands on Liyaza! He couldn't walk for days!"). As the physical embodiment of Sol Invictus rises up into its ordained course, so too does Sifu White Lotus appear, trailed by two students. He is a man of imposing height, standing a full six feet despite his obviously advanced age, and his face, though wrinkled, is unmistakably that of a warrior, its aspect serious and dignified. His beard trails down to his feet, an impressive plume of silver like a waterfall pouring down from his mouth. Even more staggering is the majesty of his eyebrows, striking tufts of feather-like white that literally stretch out from his face. His eyes, a piercing violet undimmed by age, assess each and every one of you with piercing scrutiny–though somewhat less impressive is the implication that he is attempting to remember if he remembers your name. He wears only a plain, functional robe of undyed cloth, and carries no weapons.

"Brother Riyaga, Sister Whiteseed, your duty is served. Go up to the morning hall for your bread and cheeses; you're still not to touch meat or fruit." The two martial artists bow and retreat upward for their breakfast, not quarreling over their misremembered names. Then, the master turns his gaze to you, having finally concluded that he has not seen you before. He purses his lips, as if about to ask a question...and then strikes straight out at Scattered Sands with a knife-hand blow, stopping a prayer-strip's span from his face.

"Between the time I struck and the time I pulled my blow, you had readied yourself to sidestep my attack and deal out your own counterblow, if needed...but you did not strike. Your speed and discretion impress me. If you've not already trained in Snake style, I shall have to tutor you."

He turns next to address Meteoric Hashi. "Your hands flinched as I struck, as if you meant to raise them in fists–not draw any blade. Given that, and the armor you are attempting to conceal beneath your robes, you must be trained in one of the Anathema styles, most likely Solar. I suppose you could be a Terrestrial Hero stylist, but with the way your feet are positioned, the only battle stance you could enter in time to receive a blow would be the Royal Mountain Form, not any of the Wave Stances. Yes, Solar Anathema style for you."

The next one to receive White Lotus's assessment is Scripture. "You didn't move at all when I struck, and your breathing stopped entirely. Either this old man is much more frightening than he remembers, or you're a master of breath control and were ready to attack me from stealth. You've got the natural makings of an Ebon Shadow Master, although a few White Veil techniques wouldn't hurt your studies."

Jerewen is next to draw his gaze, her eyepatch seeming to spark his curiosity. "And how did you lose that, sister? I would hope it was not an old sifu who plucked out your eye, perhaps spurned by an insult? No, that scar couldn't have been left by the kind of sword you fight with. And unarmed, too–I would hope you've studied Even Blade. I have a few tricks of my own for swordplay, a style rarely practiced in this age. Perhaps you'll be worthy."

His finishes on Sarena. "You have no armor, no weapons, and a paper fan. A Dreaming Pearl Courtesan, naturally. Hopefully you'll prove a good influence on Five-Weeds; she's not yet convinced so open-handed a style is right for her."

He smiles magnanimously, a grin that would be infuriating if not backed by the experience of an Elder Sidereal. "As it is, you all belong in the upper class–I won't waste my fellow teacher's time with instructing you in Five Dragon style. Follow that passage up to the morning hall for breakfast, of no particular diet. Your class will begin at a half hour; Liyanza and Brine Leaves will show you the way." The sifu commends the two new students to their watch duty, and then goes back down another passage, to ready himself for a day of teaching.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena is just being her usual silent, watchful self. Because her player is feeling pretty bleh currently and hasn't really been keeping up, but she is here, oh yes.

[The Demented One]

A wisp of essence curls along the length of Sarena's forearm, just barely singing her flesh. A discreet glance reveals an Old Realm character traced in a soft red welt on her skin, the personal brand of Yeshiva, Arch-Secretary of Metaconceptual Abstraction and Architect of the Fourth Wall, Who Waxes Wroth at Breaks in Moral Character.

[Lochar]

Scripture bows before the Sifu. "It is because I feared, master. I am but a mortal man, and had thought I had given offense to you for even being here. But I will learn as you command."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand knew the elder Sifu was going to strike before he did - Saturn's sight saw all ends. But it was better not to appear too precocious. Still, when the blow came, Sand was more than a little impressed by the skill with which it was struck, and he doubted his reactions would have been half so good without his hidden talents. Whatever did the job, though, and he seemed to have passed the test. He put his fist together in his open palm and executed a low bow.

"Thank you, Sifu. It is an honor." He might actually learn something on this little expedition after all. His powers of observation might not have been much, but the man was every bit as skilled as one would expect from a colleague of Chejop Kejack.

Sand shouldered his staff and fell into step with the two more senior students, smiling lightly.

[The Demented One]

White Lotus laughs at that, chuckling wholeheartedly. "Fear, you say? If that is what you want to call, I suppose. But by the time I am done with your training, you will be the mightiest mortal in Creation, as long as you don't Exalt halfway through, like the last one. Shame about him."

The sifu accepts Sands's bow with one of his own, though of slightly less inclination. "I do you no honor; you are given the training your prowess merits. I teach humility, but pride, once earned, should not be forsaken. Now, eat well but lightly. I will be teaching aerial combat today, and it would be a shame if you were to defile my dojo with your sickness."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Walking through the halls towards the dining hall, Sand couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. He had spent much of his training time in the mansion of his sifu, Gentle Scythe, who had been a tutor of the old school - that is to say, the school of late nights, early mornings, and endless scrubbing of the dojo floor. White Lotus seemed a trifle more relaxed, and of course he was not the only student, but he couldn't help but wonder how this school would compare to his own early tutelage. At least the food sounded like it would be marginally better. There were few things that Gentle Scythe had felt more conducive to the growth of discipline and character than subsisting on bean paste, bread and rainwater while all around his manse the feasts and revels of Heaven had been going on.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi saddles up beside Scripture as they walk the hallway, thoughts of his own time with Stern Huu welling up in his mind. Huu had displayed an astonishing array of the finest Celestial Martial Arts known to the Fellowship. Hashi had chosen the only one that Huu had mastered against his better judgement.

"How can he notice my damn armor and not notice a Raksha?" Hashi whispered. He'd have to get out of the armor. The bulk, while compact, may have given away it's shape but not it's nature. Starmetal armor would be difficult to explain. Even still, Hashi's heart leapt at the prospect of aerial combat. He could only hope that, somehow, windblades would be involved.

[The_Snark]

Jerewen merely gives a bow and a smile to White Lotus, glad that her companions are there to distract him; it seemed unlikely he'd remember his question. She is, in fact, slightly flattered that someone is eager to teach her; she'd received only cursory teaching at the Violet Bier, and had never really impressed any of the instructors enough that they agreed to take her as a personal student. (Well, she hadn't really made any attempt to pursue the matter, either, but she'd had other duties to tend to.) More, it's nice to talk to someone who is unabashedly enthusiastic about his job. And someone who is fully removed from the politics of Heaven, or at least oblivious and uncaring of them. She finds herself rather liking the ancient Sidereal.

Which is why she'd rather not have to lie about how she lost her eye. The eyepatch was both an invaluable battlefield artifact, and something to draw attention; people tended to focus on it, making it easy to go unrecognized by taking it off and making a few other simple other alterations. It did not, however, fulfill an eyepatch's intended purpose—that is, concealing an empty eye socket—because she'd never actually lost an eye. The scar was a happy coincidence. Explaining that it was an artifact might be awkward, though, since she's presumably supposed to be a mortal.

Trailing after the students, she decides to hope nobody asks about it. The students—other students, now—probably won't be as confident (or tactless) as White Lotus.

[Lochar]

Scripture bows his head as he moves towards the dining hall. "It's not that hard to notice it, my friend. I saw it earlier as well." He says quietly, keeping in character. "As for what else the Sifu may miss, that is the problem."

[The Demented One]

The dining hall is a small chamber, scarcely a nook in comparison to the Feasting Halls of the Cerulean Lute, or the Crimson Panoply's Mead-House of Victors. Rows of hardwood benches, backless and uncomfortable-looking, line five long tables, each one inlaid with jade cameos of the Immaculate Dragons. The white jade table is heaped the highest, heaped high with Yeddim-meat and cheese, wedged in between loaves of warm-baked bread. The students eating at the table seem uniformly stocky and muscular, making their diet most likely another facet of their training. To the left of the central table are those of black jade, stocked with fish wrapped in seaweed and all manner of shellfish, and of blue jade, topped by ice-chilled stoneware full of cold soups. To the right, the red jade table boasts an impressive assortment of spiced foods, peppers and roasted Austrech meat predominating amongst them. And all the way to the end, on the green jade table teeming with bowls of a thousand different fruits, sit Liyaza and Five Leaves. "Hey! Come here!" calls the younger Dragonblooded. "Eat Eastern Diet today, you don't want anything heavy for aerial combat class. Too much jumping around, you know? Here, try some ricefruit; it's imported from Lotus. Great stuff."

[Lochar]

"Jumping around?" Scripture questions quietly, sitting down, with a look around at the other students, playing the part of a mortal put into a spot he'd never expected. "Aerial combat?"

Picking up one of the ricefruits, Scripture bites into it. "Airy." he says with a light, somewhat nervous, laugh.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand was simply happy to note the variety and abundance of food. Definitely better than rice gruel. He hummed to himself as he selected a sampling of various foods, digging in with gusto - he'd only had tea so far today, and he found that dying had left him famished. Between chews, he spoke with a smile to the young wood-aspect.

"So, what exactly does Aerial Combat usually involved? The basic idea is obvious, of course, but is there anything that one might not expect that one should be aware of?"

[The Demented One]

Liyaza swallows an apricot, then explains. "The training chambers here are all specially designed, the geomancy of this place is exquisite. For aerial combat, Sifu just...takes out the floor of the training chamber. The goal is to learn to fight while falling to the earth from great heights–if you can do that, jumping and acrobatics should be child's play. Of course, being air-aspected helps with that." He grins, and plunders a pile of strawberries.

[GryffonDurime]

"It seems so esoteric a study if one isn't an Air-Aspect, though. How often is one going to find themselves engaged in fisticuffs at two hundred feet?" Hashi asks as he bites into a ricefruit, pleasently surprised by the juxtaposition of textures and flavors. He's smiling now, almost dreamily. His mind wanders back, suddenly inspired by flashes of all the times he's been tossed skyward during the Dragon Rail construction. His staff had been mostly comprised of Air-aspects for that very reason.

"In all fairness, I was never fighting then," he says aloud, then blinks, reddening with the realization that yes, he just said that instead of thinking it.

[Lochar]

Scripture shrugs at the comments. "Umm, don't most who learn here end up fighting the Anathema? Who knows what all they can do."

He picks up a strawberry. "I would want every possible lesson if I ended up against one."

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves fills in Liyaza's explanation, cheerily correcting him between bites of blueberry. "The point isn't learning to fight while falling, it's to learn to fight in the air. Jumping, pushing people off of cliffs, getting pushed off of cliffs...and it is a very big part of fighting the Anathema. Sifu says that a lone Dragonblood can never match an Anathema for power, but it's cleverness that kills. Using what's around you is the big trick, and sometimes it happens to be air." For a child, she seems very blase with the topic of hunting and killing the Exalted.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smiled a grim little smile as he ate. He had fought an Anathema or two in his time, attached to the Wild Hunt or as part of an assignment given to him by his Bureau. And he knew the young Dragon-Blooded was right - the Anathema were more than a match for a Dragon-Chosen of similar age, or often even two or three. The only way to fight one was with speed, surprise, and cunning. Once again, though, he mused meditatively on whether such combat was always the best course, given the decadence that the Usurpers seemed to have embraced - though this place fortunately gave little evidence for it.

[Lochar]

Scripture smiles. "I hope they don't want me to fight one. At least, not unless I do as Sifu said and Exalt halfway through his training."

The idea was tempting. He'd have to see if he could swing that. A possible Exaltation could make things a bit easier.

[The_Snark]

"They're hardly going to keep one of them here in the monastery to fight students," Jerewen puts in, speaking up for the first time in a while. Her tone is less dry than she'd intended. She'd been a moderately devout Immaculate before Exalting; being told "Oh no, that's just a convenient lie to keep people happy" had been a bit of a shock. Even after several years to get used to it, it doesn't really sit well with her.

Definitely a good time to change the subject. "What keeps us that aren't Air-aspected from being injured by the fall? How high is it?"

[The Demented One]

Liyaza frowns, trying to think of an explanation. "It's...complicated. Sifu doesn't just open a trap door and let you plummet to the ground. You fall, but you fall back to where you where, but the recursive geomancy-"

Five-Leaves gives him a hearty slap to the back of his head, cutting him off. "Peasant-head here isn't telling you that the dojo is actually a manse. All the chambers are on a geomantic circuit, so Sifu can alter their position within the academy to an exceptional degree. You drop out through the floor...but fall back down through the ceiling. And you just keep looping through, over and over until training's done. Mirrors in mirrors, you know? Come on, it's close enough to class time to get moving. You'll see when you get there."

[GryffonDurime]

Meteoric Hashi's eyes alight with that rare and secretive inner fire as the discussion turns to matters of geomancy--and a twinge of Sidereal pride creeps into his mind, blaring like a brass band: he knew exactly how such a manse could be achieved. It was a geomantic feat. It was interesting. It was...not martial arts. He wondered if the Terrestrials before him could really appreciate what it was, the delicate weave of dragon lines and architecture that could produce the very power they now described. He hated feeling superior to others, because it felt so vindictively pleasant.

"Sorry," he said, excusing himself from the table and bounding into the hall. He had to find somewhere to duck into and remove his armor, returning with his traveller's pack a bit heavier and fuller. Not for the first time he praised starmetal construction's economy of material. "I'm ready. Are you all?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded, wolfing down a last morsel before cleaning his hands off. Once more shouldering his staff, he motioned with his hand to the two senior students. "Ready and eager. I look forward to learning from so august a master, and it will be interesting to see what our fellow students are capable of." He said with a small, enigmatic smile

[Lochar]

Scripture nods. "As ready as I ever can be, I guess. I just hope I don't disappoint the Sifu."

Shifting a little in his seat, Scripture allows his long sleeves to fall over his bracers once more, hiding his bracers. He could probably lie about the gauntlets, but the bracers didn't have that good of a mortal analogue.

[The_Snark]

Jerewen fastidiously wipes her gloves on a napkin (you'd think she would take them off when eating such things as melons and ricefruit, but no) and stands. "Best get it over with if we are, Silas."

[The Demented One]

You all assemble in the dojo Liyaza directs you too eventually, along with a handful of other students–the Eight Pearls. Sifu White Lotus is already there, standing on a platform of blue jade. As his students crowd into the class, he surveys them all, wishing he had written down their names somewhere. Oh well.

"Students, today's lesson will be a practical one. Everyone, take a sparring partner, and wait for my signal to start. Sad Ivy, Lando, Rayid, Miyagi, and Dyed Leaves, come with me. Sad Ivory, Hanzo, Saayid, Liyaza, and Five-Leaves all look up, having grown familiar to the Sifu's slips of memory. The sensei looks the five students over, comparing them to the new arrivals. "Six-Stones, you'll be sparring against that lovely new lady today," he says, gesturing to Sarena. "Mead, bow to Walker in the Waves. He'll be your partner." A nod this time, in the direction of Sands. "Gonzo, you'll be with the man in armor. Mad Ivory, the woman with the sword." Hashi and Jerewen, in turn. "And Liyamoto, you'll be with Silas."

The five of you take up sparring stances with your respective partners, evenly spaced across the room. Sifu White Lotus returns to his jade platform, and surveys the arrangement of students to his satisfaction. "Everyone knows the ground rules, not that there will be much ground. Lethal weapons will be permitted for this exercise, but strike only to disable. Ready? Fight!"

He claps his hands...and the room falls away. Walls, ceiling, floor–all recede into nothingness, showing only blue sky, blue sky that stretches on forever. All of the students begin to fall, plummeting towards not the earth, but only more sky. Looking downward, you catch sight of White Lotus sitting on his stationary platform of jade...and turning back to look up, you see him again. Five-Leaves was right about the bizarre geomancy. But there is little time to wonder what feats of arcane architecture achieved this affect, as your sparring partners advance forward to meet you.


Battle Joined!

Tick 0: Jerewen, Sands, Sad Ivory
Tick 1: Hanzo
Tick 3: Saayid, Liyaza
Tick 4: Sarena
Tick 5: Five-Leaves
Tick 6: Hashi, Scripture

Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Sands vs. Saayid
Hashi vs. Hanzo
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand executed a low bow to his opponent just before the floor fell away, leaving them suspended in space for a moment before whatever minor god of gravity was overlooking the dojo took notice an began to pull them downward towards the nonexistent floor.

Thinking quickly on a strategy he had pondered before entering the dojo, Sand began to whirl his staff over his head. Faster and faster the length of starmetal sheathed in wood whirled, becoming a dark brown blur above the Exalt - it wasn't much, but it was enough to check the rate of his fall just enough that Saayid began to pull away from him. Once he'd gained sufficient height on the other warrior, Sand slid his staff under his feet, balancing on it like the long wooden boards that some residents of the West used to ride the tidal waves.

Sand soared and spun through the air, his robe flapping gently about him as he surfed his staff downwards and when he drew close to Saayid, he struck like a thunderbolt - kicking his staff back up into his hands, he delivered three quick blows with the blunt end of the staff, targeting Saayid's elbows and the back of his neck - striking to stun, but not to kill. Sand moved with the swiftness of a striking serpent, his blows neat, precise, and accurate.


Pretty simple flurry here - Dex + Athletics, then three attacks. I assume I can pull them if it looks like I'd be doing Saayid too much damage, for some reason.

Dex + Athletics: (5+3 -4 Flurry) [roll0]
Attack 1: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -5 Flurry) [roll1]
Attack 2: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -6 Flurry) [roll2]
Attack 3: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -7 Flurry) [roll3]

Dodge DV: 6
Parry DV: 8

Soak: 7/7 (6/4 from Silken Armor)

Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

[The_Snark]

Jerewen is already drawing her sword as the sifu claps his hands. Unfortunately, she didn't get a chance to use the floor to kick off before it vanished, as she'd planned, and she is left without any apparent way of moving herself around. Doubtless there were ways, and she could figure them out... but she'd be vulnerable while she did that.

She adopts a defensive position, drawing her feet up underneath her slightly rather than planting them firmly on the floor, and brings up her sword in the guard position. Striking to wound means it's less effective, but it remains useful for defense—an unarmed foe always had to be careful against an armed one—and for calling attention away from her real weapon. Many people assumed that a person with a sword would fight only with that sword, and a fair number of those people had died as a result of that assumption.

Now to see whether Sad Ivory would make the same mistake...

Drawing a weapon and waiting.

Defenses (-1 DV)
Dodge DV 4
Parry DV 7

Soak: 7L/7B (4L/6B silken armor)

Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

[The Demented One]

Scattered Sands nearly loses his balance, just barely avoids falling from his staff as he hurtles downwards. But with an almost reflexive shift of stance and more than a little good lucky, he not only succeeds in riding the staff down, but makes his nigh-failure look entirely intentional. He rains down blows on Saayid, a dark-skinned man of almost gigantic height. His first blow cuts clean, slamming into the Southern's temple. But the Dynast soon shrugs off the blow, and blocks the next two with his daiklave, jade ringing against the wooden sheath of Sands' staff. But nevertheless, Sands can see the damage of his blow in the Fire Aspect's eyes, a slowness of the pupils that betrays his show of stamina.

As Jerewen draws her blade in defense, Sad Ivory unfurls a length of jade from her robes and whirls it around, unfolding her serpent-sting staff. She flings it like a whip, and its weighted bludgeon tip snakes toward Jerewen's brow–but she is already moving. A quick circle-parry catches Ivory's blow, wrapping the staff about the sword for the space of a second. During that second, Jerewen shifts from the Fourth Stance of Guarding to the Second, moving her wrist upwards and across her chest while the sword's tip moves downwards. Sad Ivory's flexible weapon proves a disadvantage—it is pulled forward and past its target, bringing its wielder with it. Sad Ivory pulls her staff free, but the damage is already done–Jerewen has her right where she wants her.

Hanzo laughs at Sad Ivory's turn of fortune, flicking out razor-claws of jade from his gauntlet. He coils in mid-air like a tiger readying to pounce, and then springs forward, leaping off of Sad Ivory herself. He reaches out to Hashi as if in friendship–but the tines of razor-sharp jade extending from his hand bely this. The claws rake across Hashi's own hands, raking across his fingers and snarling them with jagged cuts.

He holds his daiklave close to his chest, and the force of his thrust as he lunges at the Reckoner pulls him forward. The blow connects, piercing through Sands's thigh, though the wound is shallow. His next blow, though, strikes with unexpected force, a whirling backhand that gouges a line of crimson across Sands's chest. Saayid looks almost surprised, though, to see that his foe still stands upright. He clearly had expected to defeat the new student with a single blow.

As the others fight, Liyaza merely draws his weapons, a pair of jade sais made in the image of draconic claws. He crosses them in a parrying position, and unleashes a surge of shadowy essence that ripples across his body–a technique Scripture instantly recognizes as the Ebon Shadow Form.



Initiative

Tick 4: Sarena, Sands, Sad Ivory
Tick 5: Five-Leaves, Jerewen
Tick 6: Hashi, Scripture, Hanzo
Tick 7: Saayid
Tick 8: Liyaza


Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Sands vs. Saayid
Hashi vs. Hanzo
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Sands

3 levels of lethal damage from Saayid's flurry.

2-die stunt, 4m or 1wp.

DV -4

Jerewen

2-die stunt, 4m or 1wp.

DV -1

Hashi

2 levels of lethal damage from Hanzo's attack.

Tick 4: Sarena, Sands, Sad Ivory

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand smiled through the pain. The blood staining his silken robes was simply another reminder that he needed to be better. With a blur of motion, his staff struck out, catching Saayid at the back of the knees, shifting him so that he fell now on his back. The change in position slowed his fall, which Sand used to land atop the Dragon-Blooded exalt, planting his sandal-clad feat on his foe's chest.

Once again moving with preternatural speed, Sand struck, once more wielding the blunt end of his staff and delivering a series of lightning hammerblows directly to Saayid's face, before kicking off of the prone-falling exalt once more, resuming his stance in falling-flight, whirling his staff in a continual, sinous pattern, ready to deflect any more blows his foe might throw.



Another flurry of MA attacks. Fun times!

Attack 1: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -4 Flurry -1 wound) [roll0]
Attack 2: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -5 Flurry -1 wound) [roll1]
Attack 3: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -6 Flurry -1 wound) [roll2]

Dodge DV: 6
Parry DV: 8

Soak: 7/7 (6/4 from Silken Armor)

Health
-0 [x]
-1 [x][x]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena's rather haughty indifference to practically everything seems to slowly fade as the ground fades away beneath her, the Joybringer beginning to fall as she looks over her 'opponent'. "...I won't go easy on you just because you're a child."

One hand whips to her sash, easily untying it - it's not really knotted, anyway - and pulling it free. This causes her robes to billow out quite a bit as she falls, although luckily - or perhaps unluckily - her robes don't open like a jacket. She holds the sash in both hands as she leans backwards, taking a 'stance' in the air. Golden essence flares, motes of golden light flowing through her robes as she activates her Pearlescent Filigree Defence.

Activating Pearlescent Filigree Defense for 4 personal motes - adding 4L/8B to her natural soak.

Defenses
Dodge DV 7
Parry DV (punch): 8
Parry DV (sash): N/A

Soak: 11B/5L

Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Essence:
Personal: 10/14
Peripheral: 35/39

[The Demented One]

As Sands strikes out, he is almost sure of his hit–but in a surge of essence, Saayid moves through his staff's tip, curls of smoke rising up where the hammer-point should be shattering bone. All too late, Sands sees his mistake–he struck at a mere illusion of essence, as the shadows cast by a flickering flame. Not repeating his errors, he deals out two blows of crushing force. There is a crack as Saayid's ribs shatter, and he falls unconscious in mid-air, blood leaking from his open mouth. No, wait–his eyes open wide, he must have been only stunned for a moment. He wipes away a mere trickle of blood, and pats his side, proving his ribcage hale and unharmed. He does, however, seem greatly shaken by the blow.

Unfortunately for Jerewen, the Second Stance of Guarding is slow to recover from, and her opponent is away and attacking again before she can take advantage of the opening. Sad Ivory does not allow her foe any time to regroup, instead wheeling her jade staff-flail around with greater and greater force, the serpent-swift spinning of the staff dragging her upwards. She pulls level with Jerewen and flashes a hateful smile, before kicking the tip of her staff right at the Shieldbearer's face.

And yet, as the metal-sheathed rod soars towards its target, it is knocked solidly aside by the flat of Jerewen's sword. As if by coincidence, Ivory's attack and Jerewen's recovery intersect, the very tip of the more flexible weapon striking the middle of the blade and losing out once again. It could not have been more perfect if it had been planned—and yet Jerewen began her recovery before Ivory had finished turning around. It couldn't have been intentional. Could it?

Sarena's billowing robes slow her fall ever-so-slightly, shimmering behind her like a vestment of rainbows. Five-Leaves looks up at her and calls back, "I'd be disappointed if you did. Fight me, Courtesan!"


Initiative

Tick 5: Five-Leaves, Jerewen
Tick 6: Hashi, Scripture, Hanzo
Tick 7: Saayid
Tick 8: Sands, Liyaza, Sad Ivory
Tick 9: Sarena


Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Sands vs. Saayid
Hashi vs. Hanzo
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Sands

2-die stunt, 4m or 1wp

DV -3

Sarena

DV -1

Jerewen

1-die stunt, 2m.

Tick 5: Five-Leaves, Jerewen

[The_Snark]

This time, Jerewen doesn't waste her opportunity. Her opponent is above her, and so she strikes upwards, attempting to slice across the back of Sad Ivory's legs.

It is not the killing stroke it would have been if she'd been fighting a mortal on the ground—a mortal would have been left unable to stand, and bleeding to death even if she hadn't finished him off—but it's still an excellent stroke, methodical and fast. The motion tilts Jerewen slightly backwards, which she finds is to her liking—attacking something above her is difficult, but now Ivory may as well be in front of her. Her second strike is even better, a textbook skewering attack that's nearly form-perfect.

Flurry of two attacks, with 12 and 11 dice respectively. Using the Fateful Martial Arts Excellency to reduce the TN to 4 on the first blow, and buying an auspicious success on the second, meaning it gets 11 successes automatically. (If needed, she'll pull the attack, which reduces that to 10 successes, I think.)

[roll0]

Defenses (-2 DV)
Dodge DV 5
Parry DV 8

Soak: 7L/7B (4L/6B silken armor)

Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Essence
Personal: 5/14
Peripheral: 27/27

Willpower: 6/8

[The Demented One]

By all rights, Jerewen's strike should miss, cleaving only the disinterested air. It is the mandate of fate that her sword should rebound harmlessly off of Sad Ivory's whirling staff, its blade confounded by invincible jade. However, Jerewen is not going to let mere fate impede her. Her blow strikes clean, carving through the fat of her foe's thighs with impeccable form. Sad Ivory barks out a truly profane oath, but does not so much as flinch–the wound is not a killing one, not by a wide mark. The next stroke strikes home too, skewering through her foe's...sleeves. For all Jerewen's fate-defying puissance, the blow has struck only the overwidth of her foe's silken armor, quite harmlessly.

Five-Leaves moves like Sarena's own reflection, the opalescent light of the Pearl Filigree Defense spreading across her skin as well. However, while Sarena was content to merely ready her defenses, the young Dynast extends a pair of bejeweled war fans, swooping through the wind on them as if they were wings. She dashes past Sarena, swiping out with one fan's razor-sharp edge. The Joybringer easily dodges the young girl's inexperienced blow, bouncing aside on the updraft of wind caught by her cloak.


Initiative

Tick 6: Hashi, Scripture, Hanzo
Tick 7: Saayid
Tick 8: Sands, Liyaza, Sad Ivory
Tick 9: Sarena
Tick 5: Five-Leaves, Jerewen

Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Sands vs. Saayid
Hashi vs. Hanzo
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Jerewen

1-die stunt, 2m.

DV -2

Tick 6: Hashi, Scripture, Hanzo

[Lochar]

The floor falling out from underneath Scripture caught him offguard, and whatmore the Chosen knew his part as playing at mortal. It was lucky that he didn't get attacked already, probably from his comments about being mortal. They were hopefully taking it easy on the student.

"Ahh!" Scripture yelled, spiraling through the air. His body tucked and tumbled, diverting randomly without anything to slow or control his movements. Or at least, that's what it appeared to be.

In reality, Scripture had assessed the manse room's dragonlines early on. Probably not as well as Hashi, but well enough in his own methods. The room did not just simulate freefall, it actually created a freefall within it's own enclosed space. Those who fell through the floor came out in the ceiling. And if the Air Aspects thought about it, they could actually get enough height to go through the ceiling and back out the floor.

An ingenious use of a puzzle creation. It was only through the long learning experience of his own manse that he'd recognized it.

Flipping and tumbling, his body tucked into a ball as if he were afraid of the heights, Scripture provided less wind resistance than the rest of the class. And therefore, the Chosen of Secrets turned into a living cannonball who passed through the demarcation point of the room, appearing above the students by a fraction of a second, right above his target.

Uncovering his head, Scripture yelled out. "Sorry, sorry! Watch out!" as he crashed into Saayid, his hands quickly wrapping around something invisible, yanking and pulling for a moment until the impact pushed the two students apart, sending Scripture pinballing away, his body stretched out now. "Ahhhh! Where's the stop button!" only to this time catch Sad Ivory in the small of the back moving at full 'bounce off Saayid' force.


Flurry of Sidereal Shell Games to take his Dex+MA against Saayid, spending 9 personal motes.

Pool is Wits+Larceny of 8, -2 for Flurry. [roll0]

Second attack against Sad Ivory. Pool of 10, -3 for Flurry. [roll1]

If I managed the Shell Game, then [roll2] more dice added.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi--no, Humble Jian, Humble Jian, he had to stay in character--didn't enjoy armed combat. At least, not without his armor. Why had he taken it off? It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Get out of your head, Ha--Jian, he thought at last. Hanzo was still aiming for him.

Jian's fighting style was an honest one that needed no misdirection: he telegraphed every intent. With the arch of his back, he announced for all who wished to see it--I will strike you. It was unapologetic, because it needed to make no apologies for what it was. A flash of yellow essence ran down his veins, a sheen too quick to notice. He brings his body into a dive, right-hand out and reared. He strikes with it, aiming for Hanzo's kidneys, but not before bringing his full body to bear in a sudden blooming motion. Left hand--face. Right foot--groin. Left knee--chest. He strikes all at once with a brutal elegance unique to the native style of the inelegant Lawgivers.


Hammer on Iron Technique!
Punch [roll0]
Punch [roll1]
Kick [roll2]
Kick [roll3]

Punch Basedamage is 2B, Kick is 5B.

Personal: 11/14
Peripheral: 27/27
Willpower: 7/8

[The Demented One]

Scripture bumps into Saayid–and as he does, he reaches out to pick the pocket of something that could only loosely be termed even a metaphorical pocket, let alone a concrete one. It is not entirely unlike performing a magic trick, in which the sly magician produces a coin from a child's ear with a quick distraction and competent prestidigitation, although it is fairly close. But for all his fate-bending prowess and reification of metaphors, Scripture finds his hands close around nothing, finding no purchase. Saayid has no pockets to pick, if that's the way one wishes to look at things.

Which is very disappointing, because the currency to be plucked from a martial artist's pocket would have been fairly useful if Scripture were to, say, collide with Sad Ivory. Which he does. Whoops! That's just how things happen if you're a mortal in Creation, as opposed to a fate-bending bureaucrat-slash-kung fu master-slash-secret agent. She effortlessly parries Scripture, wrapping her staff around his leg and unfurling it, sending him flying downward. She smirks as he falls.

While Scripture blumbers ineffectually through the air, Hashi decides to do something meteoric. Striking like an iron whirlwind, he unlimbers a hammering barrage of punches and kicks. Left hand–blocked! Right hand–hit! Right foot–ouch! Left knee–hit! The Sidereal strikes out like a Solar, and his foe gets whupped on like a Primordial.

Hanzo, all but unconscious with the pain of his meteoric beating, makes a desperate attack, realizing just how close he is to a humiliating defeat at the hands (and knees) of an unblooded neophyte. "WOUNDED TIGER DEALS THE DEATHBLOW!" he screams as he unleashes his secret technique, raking both his tiger claws diagonally down at Hashi. The Sidereal kicks off of his foe's shins, pushing downward and springing off from the sky-semblance of the walls. However, Hashi's acrobatics merely forestall the inevitable–Hanzo neatly adjusts her course with a vertical backflip, and rakes down the Sidereal's shoulders. Blood spurts out from Hashi's wounds, a double arterial spray that stripes Hanzo as if he were a true tiger. The Sidereal faints from the loss of blood, hanging in the air like a puppet on scarlet strings. His foe, seeing that the battle is over, grabs Hashi in a tight grip, and rappels off the walls of the dojo, slowing his fall until he can leap to the platform where White Lotus stands. He lays the body down, and looks it over to make sure Hashi's bleeding has ceased, before walking out of the dojo, at White Lotus's nodded approval.

Meanwhile, Saayid smirks wickedly, fire essence streaming out from his nostrils in snaking, twisting streamers. Then, with a fearsome kiai, he breathes out a huge pillar of flame that immolates Sands, searing his flesh all over. Even at such a pass, Sand dared not use his Sidereal charms for fear that the Sifu would notice them - though he was obviously somewhat oblivious, Sand could not help but notice his keen eye when it came to the martial arts, and he did not think his blindness would extend to this particular arena. Thinking quickly, his staff began to spin in his hand, diverting the searing heat around him as he worked it with unparalleled grace and speed, shaping and reshaping the flames that Saayid propelled towards him. Rather than simply diverting the flames, however, Sand had something more in mind - he worked his way downward, towards Saayid, sending the flames spiraling into the Aether, until he was within striking distance. Then he lashed out with his staff, slamming the blunt end firmly into the Dynast's mouth and plugging the source of the flame with a wicked grin. But it is all for not - the pent up flames vent through the Fire Dragon master's nostrils, scorching Sands and driving Saayid further downward.


Initiative

Tick 8: Sands, Liyaza, Sad Ivory
Tick 9: Sarena
Tick 10: Five-Leaves, Jerewen
Tick 11: Scripture
Tick 12: Saayid


Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Sands vs. Saayid
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Scripture

DV -2

Hashi

2-die stunt, 4m or 1wp

7 levels of lethal damage...and you're incapacitated.

Sands

3 levels of lethal damage.

Tick 8: Sands, Liyaza, Sad Ivory

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nearly blacked out from the pain - he could feel the blackness clawing at his conciousness, urging him to sink down into the dark and rest awhile. But his lavender eyes blazed as he fought through the pain - he soared down out of the cloud of flame like a falling star, trailing blazing light behind him, so bright as to hurt the eyes. His body screamed in agony, but he refused to give up, refused to lose. His staff blurred as he drew his arms and legs in tight, holding his staff out in front of him, diving faster and faster - right past Saayid, and gaining speed all the time. Then, suddenly spinning around in midair, he laid himself flat on his back, using his robes to catch the wind. Creating as much drag as possible, he let Saayid come to him, slamming his staff into the Terrestrial's head, back, and neck with lightning speed.


Another flurry of MA... And this will be the last, one way or another.

Attack 1: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -3 Flurry -4 wound) [roll0]
Attack 2: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -4 Flurry -4 wound) [roll1]
Attack 3: (5 Dex + 5 MA + 3 Specialty + 2 Accuracy + 4 Hearthstone -5 Flurry -4 wound) [roll2]

Dodge DV: 6
Parry DV: 8

Soak: 7/7 (6/4 from Silken Armor)

Health
-0 [x]
-1 [x][x]
-2 [x][x]
-4 [x]
X [ ]

[The Demented One]

As Sands comes down on Saayid with his staff, he finds himself almost frightened by the wounds he deals. As the hammer-tip strikes the Fire Dragon master's head, there is a sickening jerk of his head, extending overnaturally with a grotesque cracking. As he strikes against Saayid's spine, the Southerner spasms in pain, his eyes rolling back into his head. He is unconscious, but Sands is already too far gone, slamming his staff's tip into his foe's neck. His head dangles limply at an angle unsuited to human anatomy, with only the faintest sign of any life at all. The unconscious martial artist plummets through the air.

Liyaza watches Scripture's bumbling flight with some amusement. "Hey! You're supposed to be fighting me!" He holds his arms flat against his sides, straightening into a streamlined arrow as he dives at his "mortal" foe. He flicks his jade sais out with almost taunting finesse, striking to confound and embarrass, not wound. Scripture sees the attack coming, and allows the blades to come into his clothing, but folds one hand over a sai as he tumbles end over end. The starmetal under his gloves catches one blade, pushing it at the other as it tangles them together, even as Scripture yells in manly fear. Ahhhh!! Somehow, with all his fumbling and panicking, he manages to avoid being so much as struck, those his clothes do suffer the indignity of having Liyaza's name torn into them.

Sad Ivory ceases her attack, drawing back instead to a more defensive posture, adapting for her aerial descent as best as possible. For all her experience, she clearly is less comfortable with this training than her companions. But nevertheless, she holds her sword in front of her, ready to unfold in retribution should Jerewen attack.


Initiative

Tick 9: Sarena
Tick 10: Five-Leaves, Jerewen
Tick 11: Scripture
Tick 12: Sands, Liyaza
Tick 13: Sad Ivory

Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Sands vs. a very unconscious martial artist.
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Sands

1-die stunt, 2m.

DV -1.

Scripture

2-die stunt, 4m or 1 wp.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena can't help but laugh at the spectacle as the girl swoops in like a bird, even though she twirls to the side effortlessly to avoid the blow. As Five-Leaves swoops past, however, the Courtesan holds out her sash almost like a bullfighting, in an attempt to tangle the young girl in the silk cloth.

"I hope you meant 'Courtesan' as 'practictioner of Dreaming Pearl Courtesan Style'."

Flurry: Activating Defense of Shining Joy for 5 motes and 1 willpower, and then clinching Five-Leaves.

Clinch! [roll0]

Defenses
Dodge DV 10
Parry DV (punch): 8
Parry DV (sash): N/A

Soak: 11B/5L

Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Essence:
Personal: 5/14
Peripheral: 35/39

Willpower: 5/6

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Once again, the Reckoner nearly fainted from the pain of his wounds, and once more he forced himself to remain conscious. Grabbing the unconscious Saayid out of the air, he brought him down to the floor, checking his wounds and performing a low bow to the Sifu before withdrawing.

[The Demented One]

Sarena coils her silken sash around Five-Leaves, knotting her up with a hitch familiar to any courtesan. But the young girls twists away, spinning her arms until the knot is unworked, and slips out from under it. She grins and sticks her tongue out at Sarena, laughing. "Can't catch me!" With a great swooping motion, she buoys herself up in the air, floating level with Sarena.


Initiative

Tick 10: Jerewen, Five-Leaves
Tick 11: Scripture
Tick 12: Liyaza
Tick 13: Sad Ivory
Tick 15: Sarema

Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Sarena
DV -2

Tick 10: Jerewen, Five-Leaves

[The_Snark]

Jerewen's mouth quirks upwards in an almost-smile at the reversal in their positions. A few moments ago, Ivory had pressed the attack, with Jerewen defending; now she got a chance to do it the other way around. Against a mortal, she might have continued to play defensively, to let pain and blood loss to their work, but most of this class isn't mortal.

Besides, she's just starting to get the hang of mid-air movement. Jerewen spreads her arms and legs wide. Her featureless uniform might not catch the air as well as the fluttering martial-arts robes everyone else is wearing, but it suffices. The wind snatches her in its palm and flings her upwards. She is within Sad Ivory's reach again in under a second, too fast for her to make use of her superior reach. For all its virtues, the seven-section stave is slow when its wielder must change directions or begin moving it again, and Jerewen takes full advantage of that. Jerewen's strike is not form-perfect this time—she knows no forms designed to be initiated with arms stretched out to the side—but it's quick, a neat horizontal arc that threatens to cut across Sad Ivory's arm: a crippling strike that heralds a killing blow.

Of course, that wouldn't happen in a training match... but with blood on the sword, an onlooker could be forgiven for forgetting.

Fateful Excellency again, 3 motes spent.

[roll0]

Defenses (-1 DV)
Dodge DV 5
Parry DV 8

Soak: 7L/7B (4L/6B silken armor)

Health
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Essence
Personal: 4/14
Peripheral: 27/27

Willpower: 6/8

[The Demented One]

As Jerewen brings down her sword, she notices a sight most unusual–the least god of her sword has materialized, standing balanced on the hilt. He taps his foot, looking from side to side in bamboozelement. The minor and minuscule divinity is convinced that the sword he is patron to should not be moving this swiftly, nor slashing with such force. He reaches into his heavenly vestment to pull out a small textbook and a jade sliderule, and performs a few quick calculations. He shakes his head, expressing his consternation over the fate-defying acuity of the sword of his godhood. And then he nearly goes flying from his home as the blade hits home, Jerewen's mighty hand drives her blade right beneath Sad Ivory's collarbone. Her amaranth-eyed foe gasps, flecks of blood flying from her mouth, and wraps her fingers around the sword. With tremendous effort she dislodges its tip, forcing Jerewen back, and at the same time revealing the extent of her wound. Her beating lung is visible, sanguinary sludge effusing from its seams. What would be a lethal wound for mere mortals is mere mutilation to her, but the disfigurement is made no less dire by the potence of the blood that leaks from it.

But Jerewen has fallen right into Sad Ivory's trap. From her defensive stance, she effortlessly launches a riposte, drawing the forebar of her staff with serpentine speed to lash out. The blow hits hard–not the lethal puncturing force of Jerewen's assault, but an impact that would spell concussion for any whose skull was not quite so auspicious as the Shieldbearer's.

Five-Leaves and Sarena are too high up for the girl to notice the brutal melee beneath them. The little girls whips out with a jade-edged fan, her hand blurring as she strikes. Sarena has to marvel at the little girl's acuity, even as she strives to duck the blow–which she does with elegance befitting the most talented of courtesans. She twirls away, artfully letting the fan come within mere inches of her.


Initiative

Tick 11: Scripture
Tick 12: Liyaza
Tick 13: Sad Ivory, Five Leaves
Tick 14: Jerewen
Tick 15: Sarena

Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Sarena

2-die stunt, 4m or 1wp.

3 levels of bludgeoning damage from Sad Ivory's attack.

DV -1

Tick 11: Scripture

[Lochar]

Scripture, his primary mission completed, corrects himself a bit as he tumbles through the air, long sleeves flapping in the winds he creates. Turning his arms just slightly, the overly wide material catches for just a moment, creating a break that forces Scripture to slow down as Liyaza falls almost on top of him.

Spinning backwards, Scripture has only a moment as his leg swings out, catching Liyaza in the crotch. Thankfully, Scripture doesn't wear artifact boots, or else he might end a family line right there, but from the look on the Dragon Blood's face, it probably didn't help any.

Not that it really mattered to Scripture. Continuing the spin, a heavy fist crashes into the kneecap of the air aspect, forcing the leg to flex backwards in a way that it really wasn't ever designed to go.

Even still, the pretend mortal yelps. "Ahh! Sorry, didn't mean to catch you there!"


Flurry of kick, then smashfist.
Kick: [rollv]6d10[rollv]
Smashfist: [roll0]

[The Demented One]

Scripture's leg snaps out like the unfolding arm of a particularly vicious castratrix, the force of the blow sufficient to inspire a lifelong psychological complex. It is to the incalculable benefit of Liyaza's psyche and progeny that he manages to snap his knees shut, rebuffing Scripture's kick with his kneecaps. Scripture punches for the now-exposed kneecaps with his smashfist, but Liyaza's shadowy essence flows deny him what he seeks. The blow strikes sure, but the Air Aspect's knee seems to absorb and reject the force, as if it were no more solid than rubber.

Liyaza grins, holding his twin sais up in the air as if they were a crane's wings. "Mortal, pray the dragons grace you now! This is a blow meant for a Prince of the Earth!" With a lunge, he forces both arms down, entering a spiraling dive. Scripture seemed to spin and twirl, almost out of control as the Air Aspect dove at him, but Fate had another trick in store for the errant dragonchild. Timing his spin perfectly, Scripture faced the sais just as they reached into his clothing and grasped the smallest tines.

Jade they may be, but they were the least of the magical materials. Starmetal, the body of the gods, flexed around his fingers as he pushed back, using the strength of his opponent to push him away once more, flipping backwards as he held a hand to his chest. "Damn!" he said, hiding the true, lesser, extent of the wounds. Flipping downward with the pushout, Scripture saw another blow coming and this time caught wrist with feet, twisting away once more. But he falls just so slightly short of their needle-points, meeting with a single line of pain drawn across his arm for his efforts–a line of pain that rips through tendons, frays ligaments, and scratches so deep as the bone.

Sad Ivory trails a scarlet ribbon as she falls, the coiling of her blood spreading out above her in beautiful calligraphy. Not content with her defensive posture, she weaves her hands and staff in a serpentine mudra, channeling the flow of her essence into a nigh-totemic flare of power. She hisses, and clutches at her wound with one hand. In the other, her seven-sectioned staff writhes like a wary rattlesnake, ready to strike.

Five-Leaves, meanwhile, seems flustered by her failure to cut down Sarena. "Well performed, my sister pillow-warrior! But now, steel your heart and gird your loins against my–" Rather than announcing the title of her attack, as is considered traditional, Five-Leaves launches right into it. She whirls like a dervish, the jade rims of her fans like leaves spun about on its winds, though leaves of razor-sheen. Wood essence flares about her, forming her anima: A single leaf of five points, like a verdant star. Cloying smoke effuses from her anima banner, sickly-sweet with herbal aromas. But the girl cannot hope to match Sarena; the Joybringer delights in dancing on Five-Leaves's very war fans, leaping off of them to avoid her attacks.


Initiative

Tick 14: Jerewen
Tick 15: Sarena, Liyaza
Tick 16: Scripture, Sad Ivory, Five Leaves


Who's Fighting Who

Sarena vs. Five-Leaves
Jerewen vs. Sad Ivory
Scripture vs. Liyaza

In theory.

Scripture

1-die stunt, 2m.
2-die stunt, 4m or 1 wp.

4 levels of lethal damage.

DV -2

Tick 14: Jerewen

[The_Snark]

Jerewen shakes her head, trying to clear it before Sad Ivory recovers from the shock of her wound. She hadn't seen that blow coming; retaliation is a duelist's tactic, not a soldier's. On the battlefield, you see to your defense first, then to striking back, or else you bleed to death from a dozen victory-wounds.

You also get killed, she reminds herself, if you spend too much time making excuses, rather than correcting your mistake. You get hit, you're alive, keep going. She doesn't recognize the form Sad Ivory is using, but the motions are unmistakably clear, channeling Essence through Ivory's body. Jerewen can't do likewise, not without giving away her style, and she's certainly not about to give Ivory all the time she wants to prepare.

With a flick of her hand, Jerewen throws her sword. The blade soars upwards, sending droplets of Sad Ivory's blood into the air to join the ribbon leaking from her collar. It doesn't have time to tumble end over end even once before the whirling staff knocks it aside. The sword spins off into empty air harmlessly.

Jerewen is already rising, taking advantage of Ivory's momentary distraction. Although she held her blade left-handed, it is her right hand that she lashes out with now. The blow is not subtle; it will win her no prizes for beauty or style. It has all the sublime elegance of a rock dropped from a great height. But it is a fast blow, and hard.

Attacking with smashfist; buying 2 successes with the Second Excellency.

[roll0] Base damage is 13B, piercing.

Defenses (-1 DV)
Dodge DV 4
Parry DV 7

Soak: 7L/7B (6L/4B silken armor)

Health
-0 [b]
-1 [b][b]
-2 [b][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Essence
Personal: 0/14
Peripheral: 27/27

Willpower: 6/8

[The Demented One]

As Jerewen's fist closes end, Sad Ivory whirls her staff at lightning speed, striking its outermost segment with her knee to drive it at the Shieldbearer–hah! How foolish of her to even dare to strike the Chosen of Mars! Jerewen's blow drives the staff's tip away harmlessly, and the back of her fist connects firmly with her foe's cheek, causing her violet eyes to bulge in their sockets.

She spits out blood and splinters of teeth, and leaps through the air, her gaze burning with purple wrath. She looses her grip on her staff, reaching out to gouge out Jerewen's eyes with her nails alone–

"Enough." speaks Sifu White Lotus. "The lesson is concluded." He waves his hand, and the sky falls away, leaving only the bare walls of the dojo. The combatants, still falling through the air, find themselves scant inches above the floor–bracing for the fall is task simple even for a small child. The white-bearded Sidereal lays his hands first on Saayid and Meteoric Hashi, his fingertips brushing across vital pressure points. He next motions for the remaining students to walk past him, laying his hands on each of them in turn. Just as in the legends of the child Crane Sage, the sifu's touch assuages pain and heals all wounds, leaving only enough to remind his students of their failures.

"I'm most impressed, all of you. This class is ended; Sifu Seven Dogs Starving will meet you in the Library after the mid-day meal. Only bear in mind that you must refrain from any hot meal after aerial combat; the chilling of essence from the descent would react most inefficiaciously with it."

The students file out, heading either towards the dining chamber to wait for their luncheon, or off to some recreations. Five-Leaves and Liyaza invite you to accompany them to one of the Cathedral's lounges; the other students do not speak to you. Sifu White Lotus's eyes seem to shine with happiness as he looks you all over–he is clearly impressed by your displays of prowess.


OOC

White Lotus has healed everyone, leaving only a single level of damage behind as a reminder.

[GryffonDurime]

Humble Jian bad-eyes Hanzo as he passes, taking a seat cross-legged on the floor as he waits for the room to empty. He stands at Five-Leaves invitation and accepts politely, turning as if to cough. His hand sneaks up to his chest and feels the wound, searching it's Essence pattern for a place to begin. He sighs and brings his fingers together, striking it lightly in a pattern meant to disperse the destructive influences of those Outside Fate. He winces as it strikes, and considers:

Could Hanzo be the one? Had the others lost to mere Terrestrials? He tried to console himself, explain that he'd been fighting well outside of his area of expertise--aerial combat under a destiny, and he didn't even have his armor! But all the same, it was failure. That seemed to be his true area of expertise. First the Dragon Rails, and now railed by a Dragon-Blood. It had a nice symmetry to it, and no doubt there was a very content, very wry spider sitting at the loom, altogether content with his little jokes.

But what scared Hashi most of all was the little shard of crimson that he could feel welling up inside himself like a crack in glass: for all his love, for all his poise, for all that he claimed to be a creator, he wanted nothing better at that very moment than to rip Hanzo apart: to hear the sickening sounds of crunching and tearing and...

He shuddered. There was a reason Meteoric Hashi had not been a Joybringer.

"Shall we go?" he said at last, turning with a smile for Five-Leaves.

Mending Warped Designs! Might as well try.

Personal Essence: 6

[Lochar]

Scripture coughs and grins, blood still in his teeth. He knows something now, but hides it well, behind the countenance of the mortal shell he was playing. But oh, he would have such fun tonight.

Bowing low to Liyaza, Scripture as Silas nodded. "I'd be delighted. No offence 'bout the kick, right? I wasn't really meaning to put it there. Or kinda anywheres, for that matter. I'm not bad at fighting, but that was the first time I'd done it without solid ground underneath me feet."

Looking across the room as Saayid leaves, Scripture frowns. "Not everyone's glad we're here? Izzat why they ain't coming?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

As Sifu White Lotus' ministrations bring Saayid back to conciousness, Sand gave him a bow, pondering whether or not the Terrestrial he had fought might be their target. As he ambled over to Five-Leaves and Liyaza, he wore a look of mild concern, nodding in agreement with Scripture's comments.

"Indeed... I worry that I may have damaged our noble colleague's pride. Such things can make for dangerous foes, both in and out of the dojo."

[The Demented One]

The five of you follow the Dragonblooded back to the "student lounge," a name which soon proves a grave misnomer. Its bare stones walls stretch wide enough to accommodate perhaps a dozen, its only amenities the woven meditation mats strewn across the room. Liyaza and Five-Leaves both pause to discard their robes, wearing only light vests that see to modesty, and little else. They sit down beside each other on the mats, folding up their legs into a lotus position–but rather than receding into a meditative trance, they seem intent only on making small talk.

"I have to say, I'm impressed." blurts out Liyaza, eying Jerewen with all the subtlety of a Thousand-Forged Dragon attempting to make love to the Kukla. "I mean, you were great against Sad Ivory. But to actually punch through her Unfolding Retribution Stance...not even Hanzo would try that. What do you say you show me some of your techniques tonight? Maybe in the Cherry Tree Gardens? I'll bri–"

What exactly Liyaza intends to bring is left as a mystery for Jupiter's purview, as Five-Leaves performs an exquisite knife-hand lunge, planting her delicate hand firmly in front of his mouth. "Juuust ignore him. But really, you guys are really good at this, Sifu White Lotus was impressed! No one's ever done that good their first time, except maybe for Sad Ivory."

"Speak of the Anathema." mutters Liyaza under his breath–and indeed, Sad Ivory has just walked into the lounge. She's already doffed her training robes, and she now wears what is scarcely more than undergarments, though somewhat lacking in frills and lace. She carries a half-eaten pomegranate, its sticky red juice still staining her mouth, and finishes it all in one bite as she walks in. Her violet eyes take in the room, settling piercingly on Liyaza and Five-Leaves. "Liyaza, Five-Leaves, would you mind if I take the lounge for a moment? Sifu wants me to cultivate my essence with the Seven Blossoms Tantra, and...well, you know. Very sorry, I'll make it up to you!" She smiles brightly, in much the same way as an angered blood ape will draw back its fangs in a grin before it pounces.

The two Dragonblooded make to leave, Liyaza fumbling sheepishly out with stuttered apologies. Five-Leaves makes to call the rest of you along, but Sad Ivory cuts her off. "No, it's fine. I wanted to talk to the new students anyway, might as well do it now." Accepting this, the two martial artists depart, leaving you alone with Sad Ivory. The maiden checks to make sure her fellow students have left, and moves to stand before you all, poised in the center of the room.

"We really need to talk. What all did Chejop tell you?"

[Lochar]

Scripture blinks. He'd not give it away this easily, and he figured his own piss poor performance earlier might actually work in his favor. "Chejop? That is not my master's name, Sad Ivory. My master is Trimester Marks the Sun, in Great Forks."


Manip+Larceny [roll0]
If Outrageous Lies in is. [roll1]

[The Demented One]

Sad Ivory sighs, her look that of a woman contemplating whether it is worth placing all of Creation in grave peril and committing quintuple murder for the sake of not having to deal with fools. "There's five of you. Your eyes are yellow, blue, red, green, and purple–yes, I can see through your resplendent destinies. I'm not blind, Oracle. Nor am I senile. Now tell me what the plan is for the raksha situation."

[Lochar]

Scripture shrugs, and in doing so lets his destiny fall from his shoulders as well. "Saayid's the one. I attempted to steal from his thread, before I went to attack you. He has no thread to steal from, ergo he is not part of the Loom. Since only demons, the dead, and creatures of the Wyld are not part of the Loom, he's a problem any way we look at it."

"If you can point me to his room, I can have him stuck in the Underworld while he sleeps tonight. You'll have to excuse the temporary Shadowland I'll be creating while doing so. May I enquire as to your position in the Fellowship, Sad Ivory? I do not think I've met you yet."

[The Demented One]

Sad Ivory actually grins at this. "Oho, so you actually figured it out for yourself? Impressive. You get a gold star in my book, kid." If there were a Sidereal martial art embodying the concept of condescension (and given the nature of the Five-Score), she would be a born master of it. "And you're going to trap him in the Underworld? What, you're a necromancer? Odd. But not bad. I like it, even if it is a bit sadistic." She gives Scripture a good, long stare, the kind of stare one wishes not to ever receive from a Reckoner. "My position? Righteous and Faithful Ender of Royal Lines in the River Province, but I moonlight as Chejop's personal assistant-turned-assassin. He'd given me a furlough here as a reward for the last mission, a bit of training in Sidereal martial arts with the master himself–which is why I couldn't do anything about the raksha situation, the old man knows I'm Sidereal." she explains, her frustration not lessened one whit by the passage of time. "But now the Division of Screw-Ups is here to save the world. Hurrah."

[Lochar]

"If he were too close to picking up any secrets, I have the feeling you would have taken care of him, regardless of Sifu. It just would have required a bit more creativity from you."

Scripture looks at Sad Ivory and then the others. "It was better than my first idea, which would have been summon a bonestrider in midair, rip Saayid apart, and then escape long enough to summon the Calibration Gate. But I figured even Sifu wouldn't be that dense as to let me get far enough away to escape without letting it be known what type of Exalt I am."

[The Demented One]

Sad Ivory grins. "Cute, kid. Saayid's bedchambers are right next to mine, so it seems like a little Sidereal sleepover is called for. We can paint our nails, and talk about boys, and brutally murder a being of pure whimsy and chaos. Just like being little girls again."

[Yuki Akuma]

"Oh. Joy of joys. More Sidereals." Sarena - she's not actually wearing a destiny right now, having none that really fit - seemed almost happy at the prospect of just spending time with Five-Leaves. The Joybringer loves children, after all. But once she and Liyaza are forced to leave, her face returns to its customary faint scowl.

She makes quite the Joybringer.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand arched an eyebrow "Sounds like fun" he deadpanned "Haven't been a little girl in ages. Hmm... Well, when I fought him he wasn't bad, but nothing terrible exceptional. I didn't use anything from the Bier on him, though, and I still managed to get him, though only barely - still, I'm going to guess he's got some hidden tricks of his own."

He paused briefly. "Just a thought, though - We probably want to interrogate him before we send him down to chat with the Deathlords. Just ending this incident isn't enough - we need to know how this little abberation got started so we can keep it from happening again.

How exactly you get information out of one of his type, though, I don't know. Torture isn't my usual methodology... I prefer my kills a little cleaner." He said with just a sniff of professional disdain. Though an ugly necessity at times, I suppose. But I don't know exactly what sort of interrogation techniques he'd be susceptible to. Any thoughts, Miss? He asked, his voice tinged with just a shade of respect. Even though he was normally a bit of a... free-thinker, he had an instinctive appreciation for the higher-ranking members of his own caste. That little lesson was one his Sifu had drilled into him. Usually during sparring sessions.

[GryffonDurime]

As the lot talk of Sidereal matters, Hashi dons his armor again, face contorting at Sad Ivory's rudeness. He slides his hand into a Starmetal gauntlet and seats himself, flexing his fingers to send sparks of Essence scattering through the air.

"I can tail him until tonight, maybe get some insight. Dematerialized, with the Underling Invisibility Practice."

In all truth, Hashi's motives are twofold: to get out of that witch's company and to prove himself useful again. It's been ages since he's had a mission. Long detatchement to Sidereal Research and Development with the Heptagram was what he loved, but here, now, he had to prove himself capable. Or he'd go insane.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded. "I can come along, if you like. I know that technique too - although I'd have to wear the Mask, rather than dematerializing. Still, it's up to you."

He flexed his fingers gently. "In any case... let's try to get this done quickly. The longer we linger, the more chance that the little goblin picks up something we'd rather he didn't know."

[Lochar]

"A quick question for you, Sad Ivory, before Hashi goes. How many students regularly practice their Enlightenment, to allow them to see the demateralized? I would hate for them to run to Sifu about a student running around demateralized." Scripture speaks up quickly, before the two can go.

[The Demented One]

Ivory Eyes sniffs. "Most everyone can do it, but no one really runs around looking for spirits, except during the Sagacious Rush Week. You'll be fine." She stands, and heads for the door. "I can't stay long; I'm to learn the Five Magical Materials Form from Sifu today, and he'll notice if I'm late. Saayid will be in Kata Theory, up in the library. Do what you will, and meet me tonight at dinner if you haven't already offed him."

She steps over to Scripture, looking him dead on in the eyes. Her face is mere inches from his "Kill him." she says.

[Yuki Akuma]

"Thank you very much for your help," Sarena says, bowing graciously. "You've been most helpful. A little - well, a lot - condescending and frankly quite rude, but I can't fault you for that." It's amazing, the ability of a Joybringer to keep her composure so easily when she wants to. There's not a hint of sarcasm in her voice, even!

"Now, I think we should get on with our mission. Good day."

[Lochar]

"It will be my pleasure." Scripture nods seriously.

Reaching out, Scripture pulls the thread for Silas once more, wrapping it around his body. "I think I need to rest and consider my failings in the session earlier today."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand nodded, hefting his staff over his shoulder. She wasn't a particularly friendly person, but she was a sister. Besides, he would have carried out his mission whether she said so or not. Not just because Chejop had told them to, but because it was what needed doing. That was the long and the short of it.

"So, shall we go take care of this little problem, since an opportunity seems to have presented itself?"

[GryffonDurime]

"I think so," Hashi replies to Sand, setting a hand on his companion's shoulder if permitted. "And don't worry about a destiny. I can Dematerialize us both."

And it's a true enough statement: Hashi's brow furrows lightly as he concentrates and his armor, his form, and Sand's all fade away into looser motes. They touch the world lightly, treading shadows and walking upon light rays, unnoticed by the world around them. Hashi moves towards the door of the chamber and, if satisfied that the others can't see him, offers up his attitude towards Sad Ivory:

"Piece of work, right? Pity the artist didn't put in a bit more work for her people skills."


Peripheral: 1/14
Personal: 27/27
Willpower 6/8

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand gives a little grin and shrugs. "I suppose. Good thing she cant hear you, though - She could probably decimate all of us at once without any trouble, and she doesn't seem to be one to take an insult lightly. Are you ready to go?"

[The Demented One]

Once dematerialized, Hashi and Sand set off to the Library to trail Saayid unseen. The other three follow them, should they wish, pacing through the cavernous tunnels of the manse till they find the library. It is drastically unimpressive, compared to the archives of Yu-Shan: a few shelves full of scrolls, and little more. Saayid, Hanzo, Liyaza, Five-Leaves, and a few other students are already at work, reading through manuals of style and scrolls of forms, copying down occasional notes. At the forefront of the Library is Sifu Seven Dogs - and to your surprise, he is a beastman. He sags over like a sack of leather, balancing on too-long arms. As he sees the three visible Sidereals enter, he draws his mouth into a toothy smile, growling rebuke at you. "You! You come late to my class, on your first day here? Fools!" He grabs a handful of nuts from a ornate ceramic urn on his desk, and flings them at you. "Now get to work! I want an essay on the underlying kata theory of three Celestial styles of your choice, with a full comparison of the similarities between them."

Unseen, Hashi and Sands are free from such opprobrium. Peering over Saayid's shoulder, they see the scroll he is working from - it is, unlike the others, attached to its scroll tube, whose impressive lock is ajar. The title of the work is in plain view: The Violet Bier of Sorrows: A Primer. It is a standard treatise in the libraries of Heaven, an introduction and detailed guide to the signature style of the Viziers. Any Celestial Martial Artist with a copy could tutor himself in the style - and here the raksha is with an unlocked scroll! Saayid's notes on it are thoroughly detailed, referring to the student charms of the style with casual familiarity. More menacing is the inky threat of a footnote on his research: "Fundamental axiom of all Sidereal Martial Arts? Needs practical research."

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand arches an eyebrow, nodding toward the scroll, then looks at Hashi, and at the rest of the library. His message is clear. "We need to clear the room."

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena follows along with a seemingly unconcerned expression on her face. She stares at the beastman teacher for a few moments, and shakes her head with a sigh. "If you say so, although I don't really see the point." She hums to herself idly as she sits down, next to Five-Leaves - well, why not?

She glances around the room for a while, before standing again and collecting a few scrolls at random. As she passes Saayid, she looks down at the scroll he's reading in surprise, and then turns to call over to the sifu. "Excuse me, sir? What is 'Violet Bier of Sorrows Style'? I've never heard of it before."

[The Demented One]

The Librarian-Sifu ambles over to Sarena's desk, shaking his head as if he had just found his dog had made a mess. "I would imagine not, if you can't study for five minutes without losing your focus! Saayid here is studying advanced styles because he is an excellent student. If you want to find out, then start studying! Feh." He flings another peanut at Sarena, harrumphing as he walks back to his desk.

As Seven Dogs resumes shuffling through the obliquely-piled innards of a card catalog, Saayid leans over to Sarena. "Don't let him get to you, he's bad-tempered by nature. It grows on you." he whispers, trying hard to suppress a chuckle. "Violet Bier isn't too complicated, but Sifu White Lotus is pretty strict about letting people study it. The daiklave kata for it are fascinating, very effective. If you want, I could show you some of it later on." He speaks with irascible charm, smiling so wide that Sarena is surprised that there is not an accompanying "ting!"

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena gives a slight smirk. "Oh, I apologise, sifu. It's just... well, we courtesans are trained to notice everything. Especially when among... attractive members of the opposite sex. It's a hard habit to break, you know?" She coughs lightly, catching the peanut fluidly and eating it before glancing down to Saayid.

"...Daiklaves, hm? There aren't many styles that use them." She rubs her chin a little bit, then shrugs. "I'd be happy to watch, although I may not be able to make it." She smiles warmly, however. "I'll talk to you after class." And she heads back to sit by Five-Leaves, scrolls in hand.

[The Demented One]

Saayid gives an exaggerated sigh at Sarena's excuse - if he is a raksha, then he is one who's had enough time to learn the concept of mortal sarcasm. He gives Sarena a thumbs-up as she walks over to her desk, and resumes his studies. Hashi and Sands are somewhat disgusted to see him absent-mindedly doodling hearts in the margins of his notes as he reads through the scroll.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand rolled his eyes and looked at his fellow Sidereal, mouthing "Can we kill him now?"

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi's brow is furrowed, his expression puzzled: this wasn't how a raksha should act.

"Are we fully convinced that he really is one of them? I mean, they're all actors, but he seems to grasp subtlety." Those last words bite Hashi's lips as he speaks them. The supposed Raksha is more subtle than he, a Vizier! "All we know is that he's out of Fate. If the Sifu is...focused, shall we say? Focused enough not to notice a Raksha, couldn't he just as easily overlook...something else. Maybe a demonblood? Half-Fae? Oh, my life was so much easier when I was just dealing with dragon lines," Hashi says, walking towards the wall nearest the Sifu.

"And remember, we're not here to take him out right now," Hashi adds, taking a seat in the air just beside Saayid to examine his notes carefully, ignoring the hearts. "We're just observers."

[Lochar]

Scripture has followed the group, going through the motions of activating a Charm to make himself unnoticable. For a spy, it makes perfect sense. For a Sidereal on a mission to kill a raksha before it breaks through to the secrets of Creation even more important.

Entering the library, Scripture ignore the Sifu, just as the Sifu ignored him in favor of the other late students.

Scripture meandered around the room for a moment, watching Saayid from a distance, seeing if the raksha would notice him.

At Sarena's comment about the Violet Bier, however, Scripture starts and stares at Saayid. His mind takes a moment to restart.

By all that's holy. Sifu is letting ANYONE learn Violet Bier? He ought to be hung for just that, much less not noticing a gods damned raksha. The words race through his mind chasing the idea of the sheer magnitude of White Lotus' betrayal.

Fine, we'll have to fix two problems. One that Sifu even has a scroll of that outside Yu-Shan.

Scripture grabbed a second scroll from the library shelf he was standing next to, having made up his mind. Calmly, Scripture centered himself, walking with a practiced ease up to Saayid, not saying a single word. Not a single mote of dust rose at his passing, not a single breath was released as he walked up to the raksha.

And he passed straight by the table, not even slowing. And his hand touched gently upon the paper, a tenth of a moment passing by as one scroll was swapped for the second, opened exactly as Saayid's had pen. It was only the matter of a half-heartbeat that Saayid's quill had been lifted from the paper, but that was all it took.


Manip+Stealth for activating Blinding the Boar: [roll0]
Threshold successes impose a penalty equal to anyone even noticing Scripture.

Should, by some oddity, I get 0 successes, activating it again. [roll1]
Activating it again anyways.
Dex+Stealth for moving around: [roll2]
Reroll for Foot Treads No Twig, if need it. [roll3]
Paradox dice if needed. [roll4]
Dex+Larceny to steal the scroll: [roll5]

Due to hearthstone, all Awareness rolls to notice me go up by 1.

And ya know what? If I can't pull off taking the scroll without it getting noticed, that's ok.

[The Demented One]

Scripture sneaks through the Library, unnoticed by any. Errant glances slide off of him like glistening oil floating over water; his footfalls are silent under the sound of turning pages and unrolling scrolls. He stands right over Saayid, his head poking through Hashi's immaterial form. If he so wanted, Scripture could breathe on the back of the student's neck without him so much as stirring. With a lightning flourish of legerdemain, he exchanges the two scrolls, a feat of larceny that would surely be impossible had he not already cloaked the motion of his hands with a thousand possible futures. By the time Saayid startles, realizing what has happened, the Oracle is already back behind the stacks, still tangled up in future fates. "What?" mutters Saayid, keeping his voice low. He casts eyes about suspiciously, but cannot focus on Scripture, nor even notice his own blind spot.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand grinned cheekily. "Only kidding, my apologies. My humor is abrasive as my namesake sometimes."

He watched quietly, trying to assure that this was their target. He agreed with his fellow Sidereal - there might very well be more going on here than met the eye. There usually was. And he had no desire to have innocent blood on his hands.

[Lochar]

Scripture, emboldened by his blatant theft, smiles to himself. He'd have to invest some time in making that work even better, as he'd had a half moment of fear when he thought that Saayid had put his pen down just a hair quicker.

Now though, with scroll in hand, Scripture tapped it against his chin thoughtfully, looking through them towards Saayid.

Scripture was slightly intrigued as to how far Saayid had gotten through Violet Bier, but not nearly enough to let the raksha live to find out. The only problem with dropping him here and now was collateral damage, and Chejop would probably be unhappy with them if there was much collateral damage again.

Finally sighing silently, Scripture placed the instructional scroll inside his vest, before slowly making his way out of the library. Once outside, he secrets the scroll much better, before mussing his hair a bit, and dropping his Charm.

Rushing back into the room, Scripture back in the identity of Silas pants. "S.s.sorry Si.Sifu. I was trying to meditate like I saw the others doing, and I fell asleep! I'm sorry!"


Manip+Larceny(Outrageous Lies) [roll0]

[The Demented One]

The ape-man lets out an ear-assaulting shriek, his frustration overwhelming. "Has my library become the training dojo for the Empty-Headed Doofus Style? Sit! Shut up! Study!" Finding that he has run out of peanuts, the librarian now lets loose with a volley of cashews, pelting Scripture with them. "I want an essay on the subtleties of White Veil Style from you by the end of today. Good luck finding books that don't exist!"

[Lochar]

"Yes Sifu! Yes Sifu!" Scripture chants, attempting to duck the cashews without much success. He realizes duck goes too well with cashews and drew the cashews to him, and probably should have tried mongoosing them instead.

Darting to the nearest table, he looks at Hanzo. "Tell me at least one book exists on that style?" Scripture whispers quietly.

[The Demented One]

Hanzo chuckles wryly. His essay on the shared kata of the Tiger and Lunar Anathema styles is barely written, a few lines of rambling introduction with very little in the way of substance. "Check in the Scroll of the Monk. There's about about a dozen footnotes here and there, saying how the White Veil style doesn't exist, but if it did, then blah blah blah. That's what you want." He gets back to his work, which consists of a sketchpad, hidden within his manual of styles. He takes up a pencil and resumes painstakingly crosshatching a pair of daiklaves, tethered together with a fighting chain.

[Lochar]

Scripture raises an eyebrow. "Thanks." He moves off to find the book, wasting time until the end of the day on a fruitless task, turning in to Seven Dogs the six lines he manages to find in Scroll of the Monk, repeated endlessly until he mets the required pages.

[The Demented One]

After what seems like an eternity of simian abuse, the hourglass on Seven Dogs's desk finally runs out, the last few grains of jade dust trickling into the lower chamber. "All right, you laggards, out of here. I have to archive all seven triptychs of the Scroll of Swallowed Darkness, and I can't have young eyes in her for that. Out!" There is a hushed susurrus of celebration, punctuated by the occasional snigger, as the students make their way out of the classroom in a loose herd. In the hustle and bustle, Saayid–still trailed by Hashi and Sands–makes his way over to Sarena's side, flashing her a devil-may-care grin.

"So, what do you say I go show you some kata?" he says, with a manner that has to have been copied from countless romance scrolls. "I've got a small practice chamber in my room, we could go there. What do you say, lovely?"

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena snorts at Saayid's invitation, obvious mirth evident in her eyes. "Oh, wow... that has the be the clumsiest, most stereotypical invitation I've ever heard. It's almost as if you're a faerie trying to pretend to be human without having experienced it much. Do you not get out much?"

She's staying in one place, waiting for the other students to leave - at least, the ones who aren't sidereals.

[The Demented One]

Saayid laughs, evincing mirth and amusement at Sarena's silliness. Very deliberately evincing mirth and amusement at Sarena's silliness. "Ha! Ha! I laugh in response!" he says. O, foolish raksha! You can't just say how you feel. That makes me angry! Not even noticing the narrative interjection, Saayid puts his arm around Sarena's shoulder light. "You are quite the funny one. I think we could be good friends. Don't you agree?"

His voice takes on a ethereal, dream-like sound, a gossamer bell ringing within Sarena's mind. "You love me, you love me, you love me, you love me," it intones, an almost narcotic whisper in the depths of her mind. Sarena feels herself drawn in, her soul snared by a thousand tiny hooks...and then she steps aside, dodging the gossamer call. Saayid pouts.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena just smirks a little bit, reaching behind her head to untie her hair and letting her fringe fall down to cover her forehead, and her eyes somewhat. She sighs and shakes her head. "Come on. If you promise to show me the katas." She holds out her hand for him.

Her associates may notice the faint glimmer of her caste mark on her head, before she pulls her hair down in front of it...

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi looks to Sands, shaking his head.

"Raksha. Definitely."

[The Demented One]

"All right." mutters Saayid, a hint of triumph in his voice. He takes Sarena by the hand, pulling her away from the crowd and up to where the senior's quarters are. He does not drag her with force or roughness, only pulling her along by the Joybringer's own complacency. Behind him hurry Hashi and Sands, and Jerewen and Scripture both catch a glance of the two leaving, with enough time to follow if they wish.

In little time, Saayid reaches the row of students's chambers, each door a flimsy thing of oak set into the stone walls of the Cathedral. He pushes his own open, and drags Sarena in, slamming the door behind. The room is small, scarcely more than ten feet by ten. A bed in a low, willowy frame is the sole furniture of the room, save for the meditation mats strewn about. The walls are decked with scrolls, flowing with calligraphy or exquisite drawings of unwordly landscapes.

"Well. Like what you see?" he asks, smiling with three dozen teeth.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena looks around critically, hmming to herself at the decoration. "Hmm... stereotypical martial artist's bedroom. Not bad, I suppose... I didn't really expect anything else..." She smiles, and sits down on the floor, cross legged, her hair still covering her forehead. She looks relaxed - she does have her hair down after all.

"I like it. So... will you show me? The Violet Bier of Sorrows? I've heard stories about it..." She lowers her voice. "They say that it's a forbidden style, a style that emulates a type of anathema that was wiped out when the Dragon-Blooded took their rightful place as the princes of Creation, hundreds of years ago..." She grins, giddily. "I want to see it! I've tried to find out as much as I can about it, and I know it has charms named after the Maidens. I want to see them! not some stupid katas, I want to see you perform charms..."

Her smile is the smile of someone who's been waiting her whole life for something, and has seen it finally arrive. "I... I couldn't really get a good look at you during the lesson. So I... I want to see..."

I have so far used Duck Fate, the First Presence Excellency for 2 motes, and spent two points of Willpower. And then apparently this is a 4 mote stunt, which is awesome. My current totals:

Essence:
Personal: 4/14
Peripheral: 28/39

Willpower: 3/6

[The Demented One]

Saayid smiles, throwing a mask of good nature over his confusion. "How do you know so much of the style, I wonder? I had thought it was a secret better-kept than that. But then again, I suppose you are an exceptionally clever girl." he leers. He walks away from Sarena, taking up a balanced stance in the middle of the room. "Let me show you the battle-prowess of Mars...The Blade of the Battle-Maiden!" Saayid blazes with scarlet light, essence roiling in the air around him as he invokes the secret and powerful charm. He leaps at Sarena, his bare hands whipping out like knives to strike...and missing her by mere inches!

Saayid laughs at his own demonstration. "Weren't expecting that, now were you, lovely? The Blade makes everything easier, fills every strike I make with excellence, overwhelming essence. Impressive, neh?"

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi readies himself as Saayid strikes, ready to Materialize if--but it isn't. Just a feint. Showing off.

"We could kill him right here and now just for knowing that charm," Hashi says, turning to inspect the decorations. The tone of his voice suggests that he questions the integrity of that law, but not the validity.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena visibly flinches as Saayid performs the charm, shuddering slightly as he just misses her. Then she claps excitedly, eyes bright. "Yes! Wow! That was amazing!" She giggles like a schoolgirl. "More! Show me another! I've heard all of the style's charms are wonderful..."

[Lochar]

Scripture follows along well behind the raksha and Sarena, quietly, watching them. When they go into the raksha's room, Scripture stays back a few moments, listening for cries of an attack. When he hears none, he moves up a bit closer, looking over the door.

Flat, fairly sturdy oak wood, but the hinges would prove to break off with the slightest hit.

The question was, could it be barred tonight? He didn't want to lose Sarena, otherwise this would be a perfect opportunity. But for the moment, he looked.

Not much. But if the raksha was really asleep tonight, it'd be easy enough to do the ritual outside his room, and cast him into the Underworld before he realized what was happening.

[The Demented One]

Saayid grins as the Joybringer giggles, stroking his curly black beard. "Oh, I'd love to show you the Unobstructed Blow, or the Crimson Palm Counterstrike..." he teases, "But that'd be no fair. I can't just go showing you all of my tricks, you know. How about a kiss, first?" He stares deep into her eyes, the twin embers of his own reflected in her sea of blue. He walks up to her, towering over her. "Well?" he asks, expectantly.

Sarena grins somewhat impishly, chewing lightly on her lip. "Are you just out of motes? Heheheh. You can tell me, you know. I can just come back tomorrow after you've rested some..." Saayid steps back, embarrassed. "This normally never happens to me..." he mutters, ashamed–and then he is moving, his arm stretching out like an uncoiling cobra.

All at once, his face shifts from the coy grin of a lothario to a harsh, fierce mien, full of anger. Sarena can't help but laugh somewhat as the fae grabs for her, even as on the inside she's reeling with revulsion. She twirls lightly to one side, body moving with supernatural grace as she tries to avoid the grab, while making it look like entirely natural 'playing hard to get'. "Hmmm. Naughty."

Saayid glowers. "Very."

[Lochar]

Scripture shakes his head from the other side of the door. This has gone on long enough, if Sarena wasn't going to kill him now, then they'd have to go on with their plan for this evening.

Moving further down the hall, Scripture moved loudly, calling out. "Sarena? Are you down here? Sad Ivory was looking for you. Sarena?"

Scripture then grumbles fairly loudly. "And why she made me her little errand boy, I'll never know. I mean, I didn't even touch her in the spar this morning."

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena glances towards the door. "Hmm. I guess that's my cue. So sorry to leave so soon, but..." She bows to Saayid. Not at all mokingly - it's a perfectly-executed bow. "If you'll excuse me..." She steps towards he door.

[The Demented One]

"I...don't...think...so" he growls, with seeming effort. "You belong to me, bitch!" His mouth opens wide, revealing a row of razor sharp teeth...and then another...and then another...and then his jaw breaks, stretching too far. The skin melts away from it, leaving his triple-row of fangs dangling loosely from his face, ropey strands of muscle and skin dangling down from it. All across his body, his skin sloughs away, revealing bares muscles intertwined with brambles, their sharp thorns piercing through his tendons and ligaments. As the deliquescent ooze that was once his skin pours down to the ground, it touches his shadow, wrapping around the umbral figure like puppet-strings. The shadow stretches and elongates, its hands splitting into dozens of branching arms. The shadow-arms rush forward, rushing under Sarena, and seizing the door, locking it and wrenching away the handle with a snap.

The raksha revealed grins thrice, all of his fangs bending in horrific ways, as if the bone of their making was more liquid than firm. "I can't just let a pretty little thing like you get away, you know." He leers with a blood-shot tumor of an eye, bulging forward from its socket. "Now, my princess, you have a choice. I can ravish your heart, feast on your soul–or else I can devour your flesh! What would you have me do, I wonder?"

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena's fascade drops instantly, as she watches with... not horror or surprise, but merely disgust. She sighs, shaking her head. "Idiot." She extends two fingers, holding them upright, as she takes a stance. "Let me show you a kata. It's titled the 'Avoidance Kata'."

And then she's not there anymore.

Current totals, just so I know what the heck is going on:

Essence:
Personal: 2/14
Peripheral: 27/39

Willpower: 3/6

[The Demented One]

"Damn it!" howls the raksha, slamming his fist, and a dozen shadowy others, against his wall. Cracks spread long the length of the stone wall, a gossamer spiderweb carved in stone. "I guess I'll have to settle for table scraps..." He walks to the back of the room, and pulls away one of the meditation mats, revealing a hidden hollow, carved into the floor. Peering down, still immaterial, Hashi and Sands can see the occupant of the secret hidey-hole: a Dynast, a woman of some twenty years, lies bound and gagged within it. Her hands and feet have been cut away, and her raw stumps have long since closed with scabs and festering infection. Beneath her is a pile of prisoners, pale and unmoving bodies..she is the only one that seems alive. Saayid's shadow-hands flood the hollow, and the woman screams, a muffled cry that never passes the threshold of the room. He extracts his spidery un-limbs, full of glistening gossamer, and begins feasting on the soul of his prisoner. "Mmm. Shame about the taste."

There is a quivering of fate, and Sarena appears in Sad Ivory's bed room. It makes perfect sense, you know–she left class, and then decided she'd wait for the Reckoner to come back, so they could talk. About...girl stuff. Look, it really doesn't have to make sense, okay? Fate says so, so quit arguing.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi's muscles tense as Saayid reveals his true colors, all vague sympathies obliterated by the revelation of his Raksha nature. A moment's preparation, arms reel back, motes constrict in his muscles, band them with saffron Essence as soul and body alike flex: subtlety, he reminds himself, and lets his energies constrict further. His first thought had been a blow that would send the creature through the walls. That would draw too much attention. Instead, he reached out to touch Sand lightly on the shoulder and set a hand on Saayid's shoulder.

Instant. Think. Blink. Material again.

"Come with us," Hashi said.

Dematerialized again, all three of them, and Hashi's hand on Saayid's shoulder becomes Hashi's arms, wrapped up and over those same shoulders, locking them tightly as a halo of glittering yellow crowns the Vizier.


Hashi's going to take them Material for an instant, then Dematerialize with the three and start a Clinch on poor Saayid. He's using Dragon-Coil Technique and channeling Compassion.

[roll0]
The Clinch will do Extra Successes + 3 (Dragon Coil) + 4 (Str + Armor) Lethal damage, Piercing.

Personal: 0/14
Peripheral: 15/27
Willpower: 4/8

[Lochar]

"****." Scripture says, quietly. And then speaks a bit louder. "I hope there aren't too many students around."

While the smashfist he wears normally isn't for lethal wounds, there is a certain jagged edge about it that Scripture had carefully created. It couldn't be used in combat, too small and too out of the way, but it worked for this purpose. Standing some dozen yards away from Saayid's door, Scripture began to chant quietly in Old Realm.

"Ianua ut nex. Vita vadum exuro. Erigo sublime. Dominatio of silenti etc. Adeo terra of vita. Redimio meus vitualamen vobis."

A green aura surrounds the Sidereal as he chants, his words invoking death through the Essence of life.


Invoking Shadow Stones Travel. Spending two willpower, and a good deal of essence.

Will: 2/6
Personal: 0
Peripheral 9/39 (10 committed)

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena comes to her senses in Sad Ivory's room. She looks serene and calm for a moment... and then her face twists into a puzzled expression. "What? Where am I?" She stands up, heading out the door in total confusion. "Damnit, spiders. Why'd you put me in someone's bedroom?"

[The Demented One]

There is a whoosh as severeal hundred pounds of matter rapidly come into being, and then cease to be material. "Iron nails!" swears Saayid, turning to face his captors. He howls defiance, triple jaws jangling against each other with an un-bonelike clanking–and then a hard silence, as a wave of necromancy sours the room. Hashi and Sands both know what the oppressive spiritual pressure means; Scripture has begun opening the Shadowland. Hmm. Escape suddenly becomes an interesting and viable option here.


Initiative

Tick 0: Sands
Tick 5: Hashi, Scripture
Tick 6: Sarena, Jerewen, Saayid
Tick 25: Shadowland!


Tick 0: Sands

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand cursed quietly under his breath. Things were going pear-shaped and this matter needed to be resolved immediately. He hadn't counted on the fae-bastard having hostages - although he should have, considering the dietary requirements of his kind. He knew that death was necessary, but he didn't want any of them caught in the Shadowland when it erupted - only one thing for it, then. Time to finish this.

Sand attacked without fanfare, his staff already in his hand. He moved across the room in a blur, the weapon already whirling as a nimbus of violet light gathered about him. The staff, meanwhile, shed its wooden facade, the wood aging and rotting to nothing as if a thousand years had been compressed into mere seconds. He approached Saayid with a look of resolution on his face. He brought his staff up, holding it lightly in his hands. His movements now were faster than the eye could follow, and he left ghostly blue-violet afterimages of himself hanging in the air for a moment as he moved. Standing before Saayid, he raised his spear, and tapped his foot four times in rapid succession. With each tap, another image appeared, identical to the real thing save for a haze of shimmering light enveloping it. The images surrounded Saayid, striking simultaneously, silently, each one driving its identical starmetal staff into a different point in the fae's immaterial form. Right knee, left elbow, stomach, heart, and forehead were pierced by identical weapons as Sand struck what he hoped would be a fatal blow. For a moment, the images lingered, leaving only four gaping, clean-edged wounds and Sand, holding his staff in the Rakshasa's forehead.


Sand is activating his combo, Sublime Quicksilver Assault, and using both Flight of Mercury and Metal Storm (4 extra attacks). Thanks to Paths Untraveled's special ability, he pays 4 less motes for using Metal Storm, so the whole thing costs only 13m, plus the 1wp for activating a combo.

The net effect of this is that Sand makes 5 attacks with no penalties at speed 3.

Attack Pool: 5 Martial Arts + 3 Specialty + 5 Dexterity +4 Hearthstone + 3 Accuracy. Total: 20

Weapon: Wrackstaff (Pointy End, Starmetal): +7L, Piercing.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

Defenses
Dodge DV: 6
Parry DV: 8

Soak: 7/7 (6/4 from Silken Armor)

Health
-0 [X]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Mental Defenses
Dodge MDV: 6
Parry MDV: 3

Willpower:6/7

Essence
Permanent: 4 [10 BP, 27 XP]
Personal: 1/14 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 31/42 (11 Committed - 8 Wrackstaff, 3 Silken Armor)

[The Demented One]

With one might stroke, Sands' severe staff-point punctures the unskinned muscle and stone-hard bone of the raksha, piercing past them to gore his gossamer tendons with one vital wound–oh, wait, no it doesn't. It strikes against the raksha's exposed leg-bone, glancing off harmlessly. Surely this must be the Death-Parrying Stroke the faerie spoke of! Undeterred, Sands lashes out once more, driving his dream-dispelling fury forward into the forearm of the rak–no, didn't quite make it past the cords of bound muscle and brambles.

Beginning to become frustrated with the fairy's fate-superseding shenanigans, Sands guts him, slipping his stern spear-point past the spiderweb ribs, spilling the warm gore of the faerie's gossamer viscera...except that the staff's point catches in Saayid's outstretched bone-cage bungling the blow. Sands barely tries as he shoves his staff through the raksha's still-beating heart, knowing the blow will only be undone; and indeed, it seems he merely nicked the pericardium. Deciding that this is ridiculous, he shears the raksha's cranium clean off with one blow, spilling out his brain-meat...but no, didn't make it past the skull.

But for all his invincibility, the raksha does not seem pleased, or amused, or even angry. He is afraid.


Initiative

Tick 4: Sands
Tick 5: Hashi, Scripture
Tick 6: Sarena, Jerewen, Saayid
Tick 25: Shadowland!


Tick 4: Sands

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand showed nothing more than mild irritation as his attacks were defected by the Raksha's own aptitude for the Violet Bier. He had never fought another user of the style to the death before, and it certainly was an eduction - unfortunately, it was not a lesson he had much time for at the moment. Deciding that it was better to avoid an obvious display of his anima, and hoping that the Raksha had nearly exhausted itself defending against his earlier onslaught, he decided to rely on more mundane skill rather than his adroitness with Charms.

With a slight smile - the first change of expression that he had shown so far - Sand set the tip of his Wrackstaff right against the fae's breastbone.

"Hold this." he said, and, indeed the staff hovered there of its own accord, the glittering sand-like substance contained within its crystal piping glittering with little bursts of blue static. Sand drew back his hand and drove it forward, delivering an open-palm strike to the blunt end of the staff that sent it through the raksha's body like a nail through... well, rather squishy flesh, actually. By the time the other end emerged from the creature's back, he was already there, pulling through, miraculously free of blood and other sundry fluids. Gripping the staff as it impaled the raksha, he pulled it the full way through the creature's body, then delivered a wicked blow to the back of his knees, driving him to the ground. Once again taking the weapon like a spear, he drove the starmetal tip right for the bastard's throat, intent on making sure he never disrupted the fate of another soul again.



Simple three attack Flurry this time. Rate 4.

Base Attack Pool: 5 Martial Arts + 3 Specialty + 5 Dexterity +4 Hearthstone + 3 Accuracy. Total: 20

Weapon: Wrackstaff (Pointy End, Starmetal): +7L, Piercing.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

Defenses
Dodge DV: 6
Parry DV: 8

Soak: 7/7 (6/4 from Silken Armor)

Health
-0 [X]
-1 [ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
X [ ]

Mental Defenses
Dodge MDV: 6
Parry MDV: 3

Willpower:6/7

Essence
Permanent: 4 [10 BP, 27 XP]
Personal: 1/14 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 31/42 (11 Committed - 8 Wrackstaff, 3 Silken Armor)

[The Demented One]

Sands of Fate skewers the raksha, disemboweling the beast that walks as a man. His first blow shatters the sternum of the faerie like an unfortunate cedar that has come under the gaze of the Huwawa the Massive Pecker, that dire woodpecker born out of the Wyld. While the raksha gurgles, perfectly counterfeiting the appearance of a man whose vital organs have just been punctured with a length of starmetal, the Reckoner trips him, knocking the mass of gossamer-spun meat on its back...and then, with a one final blow, snaps the spine of the raksha beneath his staff, bloodily detaching its head from what used to be its shoulders.

The corpse of Saayid really should dissipate into a thin mist of gossamer, or maybe dissolve into a deliquescent puddle of amorphous ooze. He is–well, he was–a sanity-devouring, reality warping fairy with a penchant for martial arts and feeding habits that bordered on allegory for sexual abuse. Really, it's just common courtesy for unpeople like him to melt away after dying. He doesn't, though. His unfleshed, muscle-webbed skeleton lies still on the ground, his shadow-limbs still splayed across the room, albeit now somewhat more still. And then, like a flower blossoming except much more disgusting, his rib cage opens–and from the wet, meaty socket this reveals, there floats up a sphere of woven glass, crystalline smoke, congealed whimsy. It spins, at least, because that sort of thing ought to spin.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand looked at Hashi with a nod "Would you be so good as to tell our friend to cease with the Necromancy? The miniature Shadowland doesn't seem so necessary at this point. Also, if anyone has the capability, the young woman should probably be looked at... and if she's too far gone, I'll need to give her peace." he said with grim resolve.

With that said, he looked at the orb of wyldstuff before him. Curiously, he reached out, trying to grasp it with one hand, delicately attempting to grip the smoky sphere.

[The Demented One]

The heart of the raksha is made of a thousand impossible things, from crystalline dreams to the speed of the dark to a cat's mercy. No mortal thing can grasp it and keep hold, such is the law of its shaping! But Sands, and more notably, his hand, is real, and reality takes its due. As his fingers wrap around the heart, it feebly resists, asserting its narrative, insisting that it cannot be captured. Too bad, raksha heart! You're not the protagonist, so you'll do as you're told. Sands finds it warm to the touch, like the brow of a feverish child. However, nothing about it screams "Creation-shattering menace!" to his finely-tuned senses. Mostly on account of it just sitting there, having resigned itself to its fate of being picked up.

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand took the fluttering, unreal thing - it reminded him of the tea they had drunk only hours ago, though it seemed like lifetimes - a flickering, unreal thing made of intangibles - mercy, love, hatred, hope, the silence of unnatural night and the dawn's light on gleaming blade edge. He stared at it, hard, wondering if it would not be better to simply crush it. But he brought it closer. No - they would need this thing, if they were to prevent this from happening again. He spoke the words with quiet certitude.

"Your heart is mine, monster. The whole and the sum of you. I claim you by right of victory, by right of being right. You are mine, now, and you will surrender to me your secrets and your soul. This I swear."

[Lochar]

Scripture, unknowing of the raksha's death, continues to cast.

Black essence bleeds into his eyes, merging and darkening the green that was his caste. The green aura that spilled out from around him spoke of secrets hidden in the mind and cast a paling over his own and his allies mind, hiding them.

Necrotic essence shaped and distorted, as the Sidereal raised his glove, ready to use it's small edge to slice his hand.

Pectus pectoris of Obscurum , temerarius meus dico. Regnum of silenti etc , adeo orbis terrarum of Victus.


That would be Shape Necromancy 1.

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi leaps through the door as the foul reek of Necromancy grows, dropping into the Material World. His golden anima casts long shadows as it plays with Scripture's, the two mixing to sickly lime.

"Saayid's dead! No need to drop us all into Death as well."

[Lochar]

Scripture looks up as he finishes the shaping of necromantic essence, all that is left to do is cast the spell.

A frown appears on his face. "Well that's a waste of good motes then."

Making the Mudra of Emptiness Unfilled, Scripture breaks the flow of essence that had been shaping around him, abandoning the spell. "Since he's dead, do we leave now then? I can have the Calibration gate here in moments."

[The_Snark]

"I think you had better." Jerewen stands halfway between Scripture and the door; the commotion was over before she had a chance to see what was happening. "Your animas are flaring, and I don't care to have to fight or talk our way out of that." She motions Scripture into Saayid's now-open room, where the flare from the spell will be less obvious.

[The Demented One]

"Umm." That is not a good noise. A good noise would be the sound of a young Dragonblooded trained in celestial martial arts not showing up as Scripture's anima blazes and Saayid's corpse lies there. But alas! One does. Five-Leaves looks from the distinctly anathemic light of Scripture's anima, shining out even through the doorway, to the badly mutilated corpse of the raksha, to the bloody tip of Sands's staff. "What's going on here?" she cries, her voice fraught with distress, and with anger.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena makes her way back towards Saayid's room, sighing slightly to herself. Well, at least it's ov-

Oh. Five-Leaves is standing there.

The Joybringer nearly hides, but instead manages to stride out into the hallway and cross her arms. "So. You killed the Raksha, then?" She glances towards Five-Leaves. "Hey, Courtesan. Can you keep a secret?"

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves looks at Sarena, agape. "But...but Saayid is dead, and Silas–he's not a moral, he's Anathema! I should go tell Sifu!" She starts backing towards the door, a frightened, cowering girl. She looks up at Sarena as if the Joybringer might reach out and kill her with a touch of her wicked hands. As if she were a monster.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena stares at her for a few moments. "Saayid was a fairy. He was here to learn martial arts and then go back to the Wyld, so every fairy would know. Do you have any idea how dangerous that would have been?" She takes a step forward - slowly, calmly. Certainly not giving off any sort of 'rar kill you' vibe, even as she ties her hair back again to reveal her caste mark.

[Lochar]

"Yes, it's what it looks like. We're all an non Dragon Blood Exalts, and we killed one of the Sifu's most promising students. Funny, no?"

Using Avoiding the Truth Technique. I'm away from books, so can someone roll for me in ooc?

[The Demented One]

"That's not funny!" yells Five-Leaves, quaking with anger. "This isn't the time to be telling jokes! Saayid...you're right, Saayid must have been a fairy. So Silas exalted, and killed him. Just...just has an odd anima banner." she says, trying to rationalize what she sees with the illusion Scripture has laid over her. "So everything's okay. I'll go get Sifu, and let you talk to him. I...I need to rest."

[Yuki Akuma]

"Uh... no! No, don't... don't tell White Lotus. He can't know about what happened, okay?" She shoots Scripture a look that could only be described as a 'death glare'. "We need to leave. But I'll be back again soonish, so I'll tell you everything that happened then, okay?"

[The Demented One]

"But why? Sarena, Saayid is dead. What do you think is going to happen when someone else finds him, fairy or not? Just tell me, please!" Her voice is tinged with desperation, tears welling at her eyes. Accepting the logic Scripture has forced on her is hard enough; this seems just another thorn in her heart.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena sighs, looking down. "Our boss... says that Sifu White Lotus can't know we were here. It's complicated. But you can trust us." She glares at Scripture again.

[The_Snark]

"Five-Leaves," Jerewen puts in, her voice gentler than one would expect from a Shieldbearer, "the Sifu is an old man. He's a good man and an excellent teacher, but very old. What do you think would happen if people found out that he'd been teaching a fairy? That he'd known Saayid long enough to teach him the Celestial Martial Arts, and never noticed? Worse, what if they think he had noticed?"

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves begins crying, softly choking as she struggles to speak through her tears. "Your...your boss? So that's why you came here, someone just sent you to...come here and murder Saayid? Even if White Lotus didn't know he was a fairy, he's still the Sifu. Let me tell him, at least. Please. Please, Sarena?"

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena sighs slightly, kneeling down and trying to draw Five-Leaves into a hug. "I'm sorry, Five-Leaves, but you really can't tell. We'd get in trouble, and we're... we were scheduled to be executed. The only reason we weren't is because this mission was too important to just ignore. If we screw it up..." She frowns. "You don't want us to screw it up, right?"

Cash and Murder Games time. Mind control for the win!

Socialize + Manipulation [roll0], plus four automatic successes vs. her dodge MDV.

Gonna try to make Five-Leaves Sarena's sidekick. :smallbiggrin:

[The Demented One]

Five-Leaves pushes back from Sarena's embrace...but then her eyes go blank for a second. She throws herself at the Joybringer, wrapping her in a tight hug. She has stopped crying entirely, and speaks with a voice clear and unbroken. "Don't worry, Sarena! I'll stay here and make sure White Lotus doesn't find out about this. Trust me!" It is as if she has forgotten everything she had just said, or else no longer saw why it would matter.

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena can't help but wince a little bit, standing up. "..Okay. I'll see you soon, okay?" She then turns to the others. "...We'd better leave before someone else comes. We've screwed this up enough as it is."

[Lochar]

Scripture waits until Five-Leaves has either left, or Sarena makes motion that she is going to keep her before nodding.

Holding a single finger out, Scripture begins to draw with his flaring anima, sigils in the air. The complicated sigils begin to spread out in the air, holding their position as Scripture adds more.

Old Realm math. The only math know to extend into the fourth and fifth dimensions.

"Tangent of the co-efficient of the sign of Jupiter, multiplied by the cosign of Saturn. Drawing the remains of Mars from the local area..." Scripture muttered, his math proof now extending as tall as he was, and three times as wide. And done in about two seconds.

"The Calibration Gate should be between Hashi and Sarena right about... now." And true to his words, the Gate appears in a shimmer of silver, extending the height of the hallway and half it's width. "Thirteen seconds ladies and gents, let's go!"

Scripture is quick to go through the gate, still holding onto the scroll that Saayid had.


Paradox Dice: [roll0]

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena quickly steps through the gate, casting one glance back at Five-Leaves before she's through.

[The Demented One]

The five of you progress through the adamant passage that lies behind the Calibration Gate, with the scroll on the Violet Bier and the raksha's heart intact. Five-Leaves looks on in starry-eyed awe at the magnificent gateway, but it is no matter–the servitude Sarena has bound her to would never let her tell such a secret, and the vagaries of arcane fate will soon purge the memory from her fragile mind. Unlike all other gates leading from Creation to Heaven, the Calibration Gate is unguarded. As it flickers into being amidst the dozen gates of the Heavenly Plaza, a few gods stop to stare–but the older and more powerful deities do not so much as spare a glance, familiar with the Sidereals' particular affection for that gate.

As the five of you step across the threshold, a burst of violet light erupts in the air before you, coalescing into an orb of amaranthine flame, floating some few feet above the ground. Within the fiery harbinger, unharmed, sits a scroll, bound with a ribbon of ambrosia. The scroll, once retrieved from the phantasmal wisp, bears only a short message, so concise as to be condescending. In elegant Old Realm calligraphy, the scroll proclaims:

"Return to the Ivy Manse of Secrets immediately."

[Yuki Akuma]

Sarena plucks the scroll from the light, reading it and sighing. "...I wanted to take a bath. Oh, well." She shrugs her shoulders. "Let's get this over with." Off to the Manse!

[GryffonDurime]

Hashi leads the procession to the Manse as is his right as Harbringer, his saffron anima still shedding soft light on the Circle, making each step worth three. Secretly, he wonders if he should turn tail and run. Young Sidereals often heard Ronin-tales as a means of caution: invariably, the errant Vizier was found. But he was a Harbringer, and he could run quite fast.

In the end, he found himself at the threshold of Chejop's door and knocked so softly that even a Lawgiver would strain to hear it, a practice in minimalism and terror.

[The Demented One]

There is only silence from within the office in response to Hashi's knock, the empty sound of utter absence, or perhaps the empty sound of ignoring knocks at the door with superhuman dedication. But then, there is the familiar sound of a sidereal anima flaring, the subtle whispering of the stars–and the door explodes! Countless thousands of wooden splinters go flying everywhere, neatly missing the five of you by scant images. Looking through the now-empty door frame, you see Chejop Kejak sitting at his desk, his right hand outstretched and seething with emerald essence. "Why hello, Division Six!" he says, far more enthusiastic than any master of reality-warping martial arts should be. "I was just practicing my Insignificant Obstacles Removal Kata. Wouldn't want to get out of practice with it."

He picks up a loose quill from his desk, and flings it right past Hashi's ears, as if it were a throwing needle. The quill's tip strikes one of the splinters, driving it up into the air. The splinter strikes a wall and rebounds, striking yet another splinter and ricocheting back up into the air. The chain of rebounding and ricocheting splinters continues until every single splinter of the door is flying through the air–and then, with the sound of a thousand newly-birthed least gods of splinters complaining harshly, they collide in mid-air, right beneath the door frame, interlocking perfectly to form a completed door. It's a little bit preposterous.

Chejop smiles. "My Twittering Adjutant–" He indicates a small spider-construct on his desk, its carapace sky-blue. "–had just told me of your return. Since you are in my office, and alive, I am assuming that you successfully completed your mission. I expect a full report on every detail of it, including why it justifies the continued incarnation of your Exaltation within you. Right now."

[GryffonDurime]

"We proceeded to the Cathedral on the Rock, gaining entry from a pair of Dragon-Blooded students who would prove to be our guides. Sifu White Lotus evaluated each of us, noting our respective styles and apparently thought us to be other than we are," Hashi says, eyes wide and growing more and more concerned as the events of the mission spew forth from his mouth, unbidden as breath in the night. "After lunch, we were brought to participate in an aerial sparring match against the Sifu's favored students. As Scripture attempted to steal from the student Saayid's Fate, we discovered him to be a creature beyond the Loom. Acting on these suspicions, we were encountered by your agent, Sad Ivory. Sands and I Dematerialized to trace Saayid, and that is when we discovered that--" Was Hashi going to say it? Even he didn't know what would pass next through his lips; the flood gates had been loosed. "--Sifu White Lotus has been actively encouraging at least Saayid to learn the Violet Bier of Sorrows. Scripture confiscated the scroll under the guise of Charmed stealth, and Sarena proceeded to investigate further, accepting an invitation to the suspected Raksha's chambers wherein he attempted to assault her only to find her strangely Absent. He revealed himself while Sand and I watched, fed on a woman, and so we materialized and slew him, just as Scripture arrived and began to summon a Shadowland in accordance with our original plan to abandon him in the Underworld. He stopped, but one of our guides arrived, saw our anima. Sarena Charmed her to keep our secret, and Scripture summoned the Calibration gate and...and...and...I really just said all that in one breath," Hashi manages, breathing in deeply.

[Lochar]

Scripture reaches inside his shirt, pulling the scroll with the instructions for Violet Bier style. "We were temporarily inducted into White Lotus' classes, and I discovered the being known as Saayid had no thread of fate, when I tried to pull on it for an attack against another possible raksha student, Sad Ivory." Here Scripture grins slightly. "Playing mortal as I was, and missing the additional help that I'd expected to steal from Saayid, I didn't have much chance of actually hurting your inside woman on the Dojo."

Scripture hands the scroll over to Chejop. "Furthermore, after that lesson, we discovered that White Lotus has authorized the teaching of Violet Bier to his favored students." The disgust in Scripture's voice is easy to hear. And is probably the reasoning for the missing honorific of Sifu. "I managed to snatch this scroll out from underneath the raksha, and as you can see, there are notes where he had most likely mastered at least up to the Form. And was trying to extrapolate our particular martial arts from that."

"As an aside, I would like to have White Lotus audited for a Severity Four offense for teaching Violet Bier to what amounted to a Dragon Blood without proper authorization." Scripture says as an aside.

"Sarena let the raksha talk her into coming back to it's room, where I assume it wanted to feast on her, as it was yelling about. Hashi and Sand pulled the Raksha into a dematerialized state while I started a spell to pull all of us into the Underworld, but they managed to kill it before I had to finish the spell. Once we had the heart of the raksha, we returned here."

Scripture's speech is to the point, but hits the highlights of the issues. "That's roughly the short and long of it, although if you really want to know what they served for lunch between lessons, I guess I could go into that as well."

One of these days, I'll preview to see if someone ninja'd me.

[The_Snark]

"The raksha is dead," Jerewen adds, taking over as Hashi sucks in breath. "Its corpse—which is noticeably inhuman—is still in its room, along with the bodies of a number of its victims; we didn't have time to dispose of them before the Gate shut again. The student Hashi mentions promised to try and keep White Lotus from finding out what had happened, so I presume she will try to hide them. I am not sure whether she can manage it." She delivers her report stiffly, devoid of feeling or any attempt to make things look better than they are. In the back of her head is a stew of emotion—annoyance with Kejak for assigning her to a mission that clearly hadn't needed her, annoyance with herself for not feeling relieved (she never liked being needed; it usually meant she had to kill somebody), resentment at being given such an obvious test-mission in the first place—but she loses it while she gives her report, taking refuge in military discipline and routine.

[The Demented One]

Kejak stares at you for a second. "First, breath. Second, I assume you left no trace of Sidereal intervention? The charm Sarena laid will last long enough for arcane fate to erase any damning memories, the faerie was dispatched with methods that were not obviously Sidereal?" He asks this question with the presumption of the affirmative, for clearly, not even you could be so yeddim-headed as to fail a mission of such caliber and report back to him, instead of fleeing.

"Third, of course, must be the matter of White Lotus. I have always seen fit to give him a wide leeway in his training regimen...but this cannot go unanswered." He frowns, perplexed by his old friend's utter foolishness. "Any formal censorship would be a farce; White Lotus is too old and too respected to be found guilty. I will speak with him. Oh, and fourth–summoning a Shadowland? What? I mean, I understand, we're Sidereals, solve problems sideways, but a Shadowland? At what point did that sound like a remotely good idea?"

[Lochar]

Scripture shrugs. "With enough time, I was going to leave evidence that it was a Solar that had done so. Or possibly one of the Abyssal. Either would have worked."

[The Demented One]

Chejop sniffs. "Your attention to detail is admirable, Oracle. However...Shadowlands. Hmm. Perhaps it would be advisable to devise a rubric, by which situations may be categorized as 'requiring the creation of a Shadowland' and 'not requiring the creation of a Shadowland.'" It is not entirely unlikely the old Chejop is actually poking fun at Scripture, although he retains a severe dignity that admits no hint of humor. The Twittering Adjudant, attempting to be helpful, relays a message onto the Loom of Fate, so that anyone who cares to read such messages may be informed as to Chejop Kejak's thoughts on the advisability of devising rubrics vis a vis the creation of Shadowlands.

"And so I must conclude that you are not actually incompetent, and that you deserve to be allowed to live. For now. Congratulations!" Of course, Chejop Kejak isn't being sarcastic. He's very serious, and even more dignified. He can arch a single eyebrow, and shatter the will of mere mortals with an official reprimand. Of course he's not being sarcastic. "You'll have a furlough of a week before your next mission assignment. I expect it to be spent wisely. You are dismissed, Division Six."

[Yuki Akuma]

For someone who's supposed to represent the most talkative of the Maidens, Sarena is oddly silent - not that any Sidereals ever really expect her to say much. As they're dismissed, Sarena bows formally, and then quickly leaves before Chejop changes his mind.

Off to see Zura - the first thing she does whenever she comes back from a mission - and then maybe try to get some training in...

[WhiteKnight777]

Sand

Sand sat alone, amidst the rivers of time...

Past, flowing endlessly to present. Present, flowing endlessly to future. Perhaps there were no present or future. Perhaps these were merely tricks that the past played on mortal minds, who could know only what had already happened. Or, at least they could, if they were not blessed with the foresight of the Exalts.

Perhaps the present was the only reality - the eternal now, an endless series of moments, each one a glittering, perfect eternity strung together like a strand of infinite pearls.

Or perhaps that was only the future. After all, is that not what people lived in? Always planning ahead, always looking for what was to come.

Or perhaps the truth was something else, if there was truth at all.

Sand's violet eyes opened, and they glowed with inner knowledge. He had learned much in the past few days - his fight with the Raksha and his subsequent training with Gentle Scythe had opened new doors to him. He could almost see the very flows of essence with his unaided eyes now - the way it crackled amidst the blue-violet grains of sand that flowed like water through his manse, the way it danced like faelight through the gods and played like living lightning about the Exalted.

But there was still so much more to know. He felt not as if he was learning, but as if he was remembering. The feeling made his head ache and his mouth taste like warm copper. He took a deep breath, trying to block out the sensation - but he could not. He opened his eyes once again.

He sat in an island amidst a sea of flowing sand. Near the ceiling, carved likenesses of the Maidens themselves poured out the sand that cascaded in great glittering falls down to join the ebb and flow of the blue-violet tides. The sparkling stuff glittered in the air, some of it drifting languidly, still more of it dancing in response to his breath, or else flowing about him in streamers like curious kittens.

The sound of flowing sand drowned his thoughts. Instead of fighting, he let himself drift on it. He let it carry him away. He almost thought he could see something ahead. He focused. Yes, there was something... something deeper. A truth hidden in the grains, meaning out of chaos. For a moment, he was on the edge of revelation.

And then a deep, musical note shattered his concentration. He sighed, lifting his staff as he heard the summons, beckoning him to attend Chejop once more. He hefted his staff and stepped out into the sea of sand, a bridge of glittering glass rising to meet his feet as the sand responded to his thoughts. He walked quickly, still troubled by what he had almost seen - troubled by hints of future past, and by secrets in the sand.