Serious Plots 8: Rawr serisaurus!

[Recaiden]

"We've wanted to make a deal. But now we can speak without the human interrupting." says the hissing, inhuman voice.
"We both know you're not truly motivated by a mother's love, but even before you came, Sekhmet hardly fit in here. Life with her adoptive family left her twisted."
"I think we can find some common ground. Interesting though it would be to fight you, it would be a waste of both our time."

[bc56]

Hive

Sapphira smiles coldly. "Go ahead. I'm listening." Now this is progress. Of course, it goes without saying that Sapphira doesn't trust the mysterious voice, which she still believes is some sort of powerful mage, or given some of what she's seen, more likely an alchemist. Actually, probably a cabal of them, given the way this one speaks. It's clear that there's more than one, at least.

[Recaiden]

"It would complicate our experiments for Sekhmet to depart now. But if you're on a hurried schedule, well, you are a much purer source of fiendish power than she is. With your cooperation, she wouldn't be so necessary, would she?" The voice suggests, just a sort of trade.

"But what is you really want?"
"If you want a leader to protect your useful descendants, there are much better options. Or we could design one built for purpose."
"If you need someone of the same blood as her father, Serket, is, by any measure."
"If what you need will send someone to their death, don't think we haven't done such things before."

[bc56]

Hive

"And what sort of experiments would those be?" Sapphira questions. The second suggestion has her shaking her head. "No, I need Sekhmet. Your Serket lacks what I need, and I doubt you can create a creature which could satisfy my requirements."

[Recaiden]

"Studying how the fiend's power interacts with mortal flesh and other sorts of 'magic'." Then the voice laughs.
"Do not be so quick to doubt. I am unmatched in the working of life. Tell me your requirements, and then we will judge if they can be satisfied." A bit presumptuous; there are people better at this, especially in the Nexus, where there is everything. But the queen is very good at what she does.
"In fact, come and see our work as well. In person. We will not hinder your passage if you cause no harm." The floor of the tunnel twists and flattens and becomes nice to walk upon. The ferns bend to let Sapphira pass.

[bc56]

Hive

"Ah, but the deficiency is not in the flesh, but in the weaving of souls. Your creation has part of the spark, but not the whole of it. Sapphira follows along the newly created path. "But by all means, tell me of your experiments. You are evidently far more successful than any alchemist who has graced my halls."

[Recaiden]

"What is the spark then, that is in Sekhmet? It's nature?"

There are more minds ahead. Not many, since nonessential creatures have retreated lest Sapphira blow the whole place up with some awful hell-magic. But the children and adolescents, the princess and the queen, the castle itself, their guards, and a few dim-thinking ritualists, these remain, these cannot or will not depart in caution.

"It is a strange thing, your power. Invested in your daughter but not truly in her blood. We have seen such things a few times before, and carefully measurements in the presence of silver and bone unraveled the patterns by which they operate. We have yet to see Sekhmet reach anything like her full potential. We need to observe her and push her, find her limits. Create copies as alike as possible and as different as possible so as to distill the true essence, liberated from human roots and inhabiting better shells."

The path leads down to a sort of balcony looking out on the main cavern, thirty feet above the floor. Two guard-beasts lie quiescent in the walls adjoining it. It provides a solid view of Eurus, of the thrumming spike-planted pool and the dim blue glow that lights the place, of the distant royals scuttling over the castle walls.

"Before you arrived, our next plan was to replace the human ancestry with a more refined variant, to express greater powers of perception and its manipulation and make a few other improvements. The body you appear in - can you change it as you will, or is it always thus, and just extremely resilient?"

[bc56]

Hive

"I cannot tell you of the spark. That is a mystery not meant for the uninitiated. I doubt even Sekhmet would understand. Suffice it to say, copying it would prove... troublesome." Then the hive explains what they're trying to do. "No wonder you're having trouble! Her power is by its nature formless. It needs a host, and humans are the perfect hosts." Then the final question, about her shape. Sapphira laughs. "You're so good at working with flesh, you tell me."

[Morty]

[Château de Lacoste - Main Hall]

Olvisin stares blankly at Le Sade. She doesn't know what kind of answer he's expecting, so she seeks refuge in absolute, technical honesty.

"In this particular case, sir, I would guess a mental illness or a supernatural malady."

[Recaiden]

"If you tell us and we can, you get the spark you want. If we are unable, what have you lost?"

"Well, let's have a look at you, then." A group of hivelings approach: the monstrous queen, a normal weaver, and the angular ones with their silver tools, hanging back at a safe-for-Sapphira distance.

"Your world has many things like humans, does it not? What makes them such good hosts? On other levels, they are quite flawed."
The description of the power as formless and hosted gives them ideas, but nothing worth saying now.

[bc56]

Hive

"Some information is not meant to be spread. I'm not here to do you favors." When the hivelings appear, Sapphira stops, and speaks again. "STOP!" Her voice carries authority and command. She's used to having her orders followed. She gestures to the creatures with their silver tools, which glow blindingly bright from her proximity. "Remove those from my presence at once! I will not stand for this!"

[Recaiden]

"As you wish."
They can indulge the easily-startled fiend, no harm in it. They all pause. The ritualists with their tools return towards the far end of the cavern.
Then after a few moments the other two, with no silver on them, resume their approach.

"You are here to make a deal so that you can fulfill your goals that call for Sekhmet's spark. You'll have to offer something yourself."

[bc56]

Hive

"Very well. If you bring me my daughter, alive and unharmed, I will lend my power to your experiment. Deal?" Sapphira ignores the approaching creatures. They can't do her much harm anyway.

[Recaiden]

[Hive]

"A boring offer. Sekhmet is a means to an end, is she not? Could we not progress directly towards it? But not without merit, to have more half-fiends and direct magic to study.... You would swear to this, as you swore to the marquess's safety in your realm?"
The weaver steps up and goes to brush Sapphira - perhaps on the wing - with a dozen fingers, and extend its supernatural powers to analyze the body she appears in. If there's DNA in this fiendish shell, how does it relate to Sekhmet's? If the systems of her body mean anything, how healthy are they? If it's all just an expression of magic, what binds it to the physical world?

At the same time, a thought will be relayed to Sekhmet, that they have a couple ideas on foiling her mother's plot. But they're both very risky.

[Sekhmet's Phone]

Osa chimes in that
Evidence suggests that she can conceal herself from mental senses just as she can make herself invisible.
((But don't wait for me in this scene))

[bc56]

Hive

"Sekhmet is more than just a tool. She is my daughter. But I would so swear." Sapphira is touched. Her body will likely pose an enigma, however. She has no genetic material, no internal organs, and no real structure to her being. She seems to exist only by magic, but nothing holds it here, it exists on its own. By all logic, she shouldn't exist at all, and yet she does.

What are they? Sekhmet thinks back, curious. She knows fiendish lore better than they do. Perhaps she can help improve their plans.

[Recaiden]

How interesting. Which is to say, how horrible. What a hideous abomination a true fiend is. The weaver draws back, disgusted.

"Why does a daughter matter to an entity like you?" the voice on the phone inquires. "Only because you created her?"
This point they do not understand, and that worries them.

We could not use another marquess as bait for long. But you could lure her in, to be truly defeated by blessed silver.
Then she explains what Sapphira mentioned about the spark.
This implies that it is possible, at least, to alter or remove your fiendish power, or possibly your humanity, transforming you so that you are no longer useful to her.

[bc56]

Hive

"She is of my essence. For nine months I forged her body within myself. She is one of my greatest creations." Sapphira doesn't understand why they wouldn't understand her desire to have her daughter back with her. "Even if she is as useless as your minion said, I still want her."

Sekhmet listens to the options. I, uh, don't like the second plan." She doesn't want to be changed again, especially when the hive doesn't sound like it knows what it's doing. Uh, and the first plan won't work. Not permanently. It would just, uh, banish her for a time. I, uh, think I could trap her longer, uh, with some resources. Sekhmet begins furiously searching through one of her books, wedging her phone between her ear and her shoulder so she can still use it.

[Earl of Purple]

Sekhmet's Phone

"Then you focus. Try to find her mind, because if she's on her way she'll be hiding. But your mind is related to hers, so you might be able to feel it even if it's cloaked." Even then, it might not work. Prumathe doesn't know much about telepathy.

[5a Violista]

[Château de Lacoste - Main Hall]

What causes that sort of violence? Marin wonders, but doesn't speak up. Probably anger. Yeah. Anger makes sense. But also maybe hatred would be a cause, especially if it -

Oh

She's warmed up and all dried off now.

After a moment longer to make sure her fingers are warm, Marin steps away from the fireplace.

[bc56]

Sekhmet's phone

"Uh, I'm not sure that's a good idea. Opening my mind like, uh, that could make it easier for her to find me. Sekhmet sounds worried, but then she adds, "They might have a plan to get rid of her, but, uh, I would need to be bait for her." That's a risky move and Prumathe deserves to know, especially since she might need his help setting up the trap.

[Murkus]

[Gem Mountain]

"How does that even work? Undead," Fettina shakes her head. She follows Rein back the way they came. Even if she's got plenty to live on as it is, she likes the idea of treasure. Shinies that nobody else has. There's something about taking it for herself rather than buying it that holds a special appeal.

[Recaiden]

"She is of my essence. For nine months I forged her body within myself. She is one of my greatest creations." Sapphira doesn't understand why they wouldn't understand her desire to have her daughter back with her. "Even if she is as useless as your minion said, I still want her."

Sekhmet listens to the options. I, uh, don't like the second plan." She doesn't want to be changed again, especially when the hive doesn't sound like it knows what it's doing. Uh, and the first plan won't work. Not permanently. It would just, uh, banish her for a time. I, uh, think I could trap her longer, uh, with some resources. Sekhmet begins furiously searching through one of her books, wedging her phone between her ear and her shoulder so she can still use it.

Oh. Now they get it. Sapphira is being pointlessly sentimental. Probably humanity is to blame.
"We have a deal."
The hivelings climb down from where they all had stood.
"It will take some time to retrieve her safely from where she is hidden."

Even a temporary banishment would get us valuable time. To trap her would be better. What resources will we need? And they can still fall back on the second plan if things go wrong.

[bc56]

Hive

Uh, I'll need... Sekhmet finds the page she's looking for and reads from it. "White paint, powdered silver, holy water," she thinks for a moment and makes a few additions to the list she's reading, a few helpers, a fancy dress, and Prumathe. We'll need to do it somewhere far from anything important, in case it goes wrong, and also where no one will stumble upon by mistake after we succeed."

[Earl of Purple]

Sekhmet's Phone

"I've got the armourgolem with me. Do you want us to come to you? We don't know where you are, but I'm sure you can organise it, right?" And even if the golem can't go, Prumathe will take its sword. He's not actually used a sword that big before, but... he can try figuring it out, right?

[bc56]

Sekhmet's Phone

"That would be great! Uh, but I don't, uh, know where I am. I might be able to, uh, get someone to bring you here." Sekhmet answers, "How good are you at, uh, painting?"

[Earl of Purple]

Sekhmet's Phone

"I'm... Okay, I guess. Some of the golems get painted to help them blend in." Traditionally, stone statues were painted. It was only during the Renaissance, when antique Roman and Greek sculptures became fashionable and copied by such luminaries as Michelangelo and Donatello that painting statues became unusual. And the antiques had only lost their paint because they were centuries old and either eroded or buried in conditions that caused the paint to fade, flake or otherwise disappear.

[bc56]

Sekhmet's Phone

"It should be easier than that. I'll, uh, see what I can do," Sekhmet responds. "They, uh, might come calling soon. They know where you are."

[Chaotic Bob]

Spoiler: MagQuest Spoils

Show

Within the Portal

~Rescue Party~

Magtok raises an eyebrow, looking confusedly at Libby, before he connects the dots and figures the rest out on his own. The MagDrones collectively turn a few degrees to the left, before continuing their trek forward, with renewed vigor and purpose.

"She's really had him locked up in here this whole time? I figured he was dead, or tied to a ceremonial slab to kill all of me in one big instantaneous blood ritual, or just hypnotized into wanting to fight for her," he remarks, sounding vaguely disappointed that he's not going to get a sensational, spectacular boss battle showdown against himself, which he would proceed to immediately ruin by simply talking to or hacking the other clone before anything cool could happen. Subverting expectations and upsetting everyone around him is one of Magtok's greatest vices, after all.

~RAGNATÖK~

"Horse****er! Glad you could make it," Norsetok extends his arm and greets the bird like an old friend, in spite of the rather crass nickname he's given the son of Laufey. It's good that he still has some levity left in these old bones. A few decades ago he wouldn't have been nearly that amiable, but a few years off from active duty and some attempts to hang himself from Yggdrasil did wonders for his attitude. When you're trapped in an endless hellscape for all eternity, it's important to find ways to relax and unwind every now and then.

"I don't want to jinx it, but I have a really good feeling about these next forty cycles," he grins, counting down on his fingers, waiting for the next big clash of iron. "Have you seen Heimdall yet? I was going to tag him for you, but this week's been kind of a mess. If the next cycle's okay with it, I think we could probably ice him early, day five at the latest," he offers, thinking aloud, knowing full well that Loki certainly has no idea what he's talking about. A few seconds of distraction is all we really need, though. If this cycle's anything like the last one, things are about to get exciting!


Without the Portal

"If she cannot hear me from here, tell her we need a funnel, Professor. A funnel, in time and in space, directing it into the portal. I will do my best to lead it to its end, but she must put the blinders on, make it want to follow," Needs instructs, finger hovering over the button. There's a stopwatch wrapped around his fingers that wasn't there a moment ago, its numbers soaring higher and higher, as Needs' own time left in this world diminishes with similar alacrity.

"Please do this. Then I will push the button, hand you this stopwatch, and ask you to flee. The beast and I will enter the portal, and-" Needs stops and smiles, catching himself before he can explain the whole plot where his adversary can surely hear him. Ridiculous supervillain nonsense, Magtok would call it, even though he'd made the same mistake himself on occasion. Needs and his brother...maybe they're not so different after all? A small chuckle escapes the sorcerer's lips, as he directs a few layers of his ward array to fly outward and crash uselessly against the gray tide. Trying to grab its 'attention' in a sense, inasmuch as a cosmic force like that could be anthropomorphized in such a way.

"Since Magtok won't say it, thank you, Affidavit. None of us would have gotten this far without you, and your role in saving us all has been as critical as it has been thankless. Of course, as a crisis of this magnitude is the only force in the universe that could drive us to war and strife under the same banner, understand that I address you with all sincerity and kindness owed when I say that I hope to never see you again after this, and wish for you to die in a fire. Good luck," the orange-robed sorcerer nods, before pushing the button whether or not Affy's actually done anything at all for him.

[MagQuest - Within]

"Is this what I-" Blue looks more than a little confused, even with his considerably-more-metallic face. Unfortunately Affy is a little bit out of the loop on this whole thing. Still, it's not too hard to piece things together just enough to vaguely stay in the loop maybe probably.

"You know, I think I once had a plan to do something like this to a Magtok myself. Rather lost the appeal now I know that Feia went and did it first. Come along, we'd best go rescue him before everything explodes." Blue peers up at the ominous clouds, the lance of light, the smoke, the thunder, and so on. "Or whatever else happens at the end. Something terrible I'm sure."

...

Magtok, I would just, mmm, like to let you know that you're an absolute idiot, everything here is terrible, and if we fail to stop Feia, it is entirely your fault because of this!

*****

[MagQuest - Without]

Syncope

Oh hello, we've made contact. As Affy decides to engage in a spot of casual conversation, he also continues casually trying to zero in on Syncope's precise location. Got to be a focal point here somewhere, right? Yes, it is a bit of a, mmm, a mess around here, isn't it? Would you like some help? Surely if I help take a load off your shoulders and contribute to this place's continued existence, that'd free you up enough to tell me a bit about yourself?"

Seems fair, doesn't it? Perfectly fair.

Needs

Oh hello. Needs pressed the button. Oh, and he asked for something-

Syncope

Something very important. Oh, we have a plan though. We need you to funnel the big eye in the sky into the portal. Draw its attention that way, and keep it from wandering, and Needs will act as the bait to lure it through. Oh and, mmm, if I can be any assistance, you need only ask.

Needs

"Oh. That's so much better." The flickering form of the Prof leans on his cane and smiles at Needs. "Oh, but I'm afraid I can't flee. Don't worry, I'll just be out here keeping things in order until you all come back out of the portal. Oh yes, speaking of which, we'll see if your plan works- we have no control over whether it works in a moment. Fingers crossed, hmm?" And then he turns and casually strolls off in whatever direction Feia is probably in, paying no heed to the eye in the sky.

[MagQuest - Within the Portal]

~Rescue Party~

"The expectation of his summary end was likely considered in the act of imprisoning him here..."
Why in heaven's name would Feia not turn on any Magtok that came to work with her? Killing it off just seems like a basic expectation. Who would possibly think he would be in any sort of rescuable state after all this time?
Probably the one who would have seen him if he perished.
Oops. Maybe she was just counting on Libby's typical neutrality policy here.

A somewhat foul glance is directed at Blue, while Libby mutters something about not permitting this to ever transpire again.

If the group is planning to simply hoof it here though, this is going to take awhile. Those hills in the distance, behind which lurks apparently all manners of chaos, are easily hours away.

~RAGNATÖK~

The bird somehow managed to turn an incredibly condescending glances Norsetok's way, despite possessing a beak and accordingly no ability to properly emote.
It does look significantly bigger now though, about as tall as the time-lost cyborg himself. In one set of talons is clutched, over the staff, a long sword made of finely crafted wood.
Lævateinn, Norsetok would know. Loki is definitely not supposed to be here with that.

"Fancy a bit of show, of our divine idiocy? Or wish you a part?"
Loki attempting to instigate trouble once he has been freed from his prison isn't terribly unusual though.

Below, a group of valkyries becomes unsteadied as the land beneath them violently shakes, something which their opposing group of giants seems to struggle with far less.
By the time they've taken to the air to avoid the trembling, the tide is turning against them.

Further along, a giant ram seems to have made a sport of flinging jötunn along with its spiraling horns.
In the distance, Thor and Odin each call lightning from the storm above, sending it before them as they close with the titanic Fenrir and Garmr.

Less simple to tell amidst the chaos and fighting below, the temperature seems to have risen a couple degrees.

[MagQuest - Without the Portal]

~Syncope?~
Pinpointing Syncope down further is perhaps the wrong tack to take here. What Affidavit is doing just seems to be finding more Syncope.
Coiled beneath and within another broken tower, only to spiral off again towards another, there seems to be quite a bit to follow.
It keeps going all the way to

Spoiler: no more for you

Show

not playing this game with you Affidavit. We'll help the plan, tend to your Magtoks. Shoo.

~Needs~

A bit of juice is flung towards the hideous time-consuming mass!
As expected, it doesn't seem to do terribly much in the way of damage, simply getting frozen just inside the expanding radius of gray.

But attract some manner of attention it does, as the mass seems to flex, its entire shape subtly changing into an entirely different pattern in a manner both unnatural but seamless. Importantly for Needs, little basketball-sized hemispherical tumors seem to be flickering into view on a steady path in his direction, more gray expanding out from each.
More aspects of an unseen greater being, hungrily following a trail of additional energy. Or, maybe it was already there, and Needs is flying forward to the time where it already occupies those places?
Troubling difficult to be sure.

Sometime shortly after, subsequent to both Affidavit's physical(?) appearance and the communication with Syncope, Feiadyne's presence can be once more confirmed.

From that distant point on the horizon, a truly colossal dragon is rapidly flying in their direction, while a burning halo of opalescent fire burns in the space between its wings, purple chains wrapped around its edges and tying it to the base of the wings.
The great black and purple scaled beast that the witch has always been isn't entirely unknown, but as she gets closer it's clear she's had better days.
Patches of scaling have turned as gray as the devoured time the roiling-flesh produces and the movements of her limbs indicate either great fatigue or hidden wounds.
Tightly grasped in her front claws is a spiraling mass of what looks like glowing ivory, the size of a radio station antenna, speared directly through another mass of the chronophage's body. As she flies closer, the flesh is roiling, rippling, changing, and growing. Like an enormous afterimage that just isn't fading away, more flesh is being increasingly left in her wake. Or being pulled along temporally backwards? Towards where it already was/will be?

She looks very incredibly angry.
Probably because she has been dealing with this nonsensical time thing for over a month now and it is both following no additional reason while also becoming increasingly exhausting.

[Recaiden]

[Ell Hive]

Uh, I'll need... Sekhmet finds the page she's looking for and reads from it. "White paint, powdered silver, holy water," she thinks for a moment and makes a few additions to the list she's reading, a few helpers, a fancy dress, and Prumathe. We'll need to do it somewhere far from anything important, in case it goes wrong, and also where no one will stumble upon by mistake after we succeed."

How many helpers? The dress and paint can be found in Ell. We're gathering silver to send. We'll send the holy water along with Prumathe.

[Sekhmet's Phone]

"It should be easier than that. I'll, uh, see what I can do," Sekhmet responds. "They, uh, might come calling soon. They know where you are."

It's a remarkably short time before a knock comes on the door to Sekhmet's cabin.
Standing at the door one sees a lovely woman with white-feathered wings and bushy brown hair, wearing shining steel armor and an elaborate collar, accompanied by a loyal gold-furred dog.
But he already knows how good they can be with illusions.
"Prumathe? Sekhmet needs your help."

[bc56]

Hive

Three? Four? Enough to create the illusion that I have, uh, more servants. Workers should be, uh, okay. Maybe, uh, a bodyguard, if things go wrong, Sekhmet replies.