Outside 48: Hotter than Inside

[Arkhosia]

Spoiler

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[The Joining House]

"Well, you should know... in my own experience," Votsona is very careful with his tone. He really doesn't want to sound like he knows better than Blanche, or that what works for him applies to all situations. "It helps to talk. It hurt worse when I did not."

The Frescot lady blows some hair out of her face and shakes her head, sauntering away, just a moment before the main doors spill inward to reveal a mostly naked troupe of antlered folk. They're preceded by a sweet-scented gust of wind, flower petals flying out across the floor like flakes of snow. A cry of greeting goes up from those in the room, answered with pure jolly cheer by the wedding procession. Young dancers spill into the room, laughing, skipping, cartwheeling, trailing long sashes of shimmering fabric. The miniature parade is centered around a large wagon positively festooned with flowers, wreathes, and myriad wedding gifts. A rather inebriated-looking young Frescot is sitting with his arms wrapped lovingly around a pale, dark eyed lady, their forms nearly as naked as those of their company. There are only a few who are completely unclothed... but most just wear careless slips of cloth and multi-colored body paint.

Some of the revelers spill in playing music to announce the lucky couple. Some embrace the lodge-keepers. A whole squadron of them fan out to pester the newcomers. "Vots!" One of the boys says, sliding up beside the sitting man and reaching for his flagon.

Votsona swats his hand away and swings his prosthetic arm up around the younger Frescot's neck, locking it there to give him a quick shake before he lets him go. "Reach for my drink again and you'll need to buy a new arm off me, Rami."

"Sure, sure, Vots, uh..." Rami glances across the table. "Wow... who's this, Votsona?"

"I wouldn't dare give the lady's name to trash like you without her permission, Rami. Ask her yourself, fool."

But before the young man can do so, a whooping wave of revelers passes over the table, and it's like they transform the room as they pass. Flowers fall in their wake. One of them leaps and whirls past Blanche, strumming a lute, singing a strange song, and those seated nearest to them start to clap in time with the tune.

One particularly bold (or drunk) Frescot performs a roughly thirty foot horizontal leap to land on Blanche and Votsona's table. He stamps a merry jig in time with the revelling music, hooves slamming the table top, and stops to squat himself down only when he seems to notice Blanche. He is, like most of the revelers, supple and handsome and dark of skin. His scalp is shaved on one side down to red fuzz, but the rest of his hair is grown long, tossed over the other side of his head. "Well, I'm sorry there, lady. I don't meant to dance where you eat." His eyes glitter with amusement... and something else.

[The Joining House]

"I've talked before, it didn't help much," Blanche responds. Her tone is somewhat matter-of-fact and self-assured on this - but there's a tinge of give. A willingness to concede he might be right there. It's just something small and doubtful. Her eyes linger from the conversation as the woman departs and her focus follows, and there isn't time enough for the catgirl to catch herself eyeing her before the scents and sounds of the joyous procession sharply demand her attention.

The woman tenses in shock before wilting in embarrassment as she processes the garb (or lack thereof), and shrinking further as all the lively hubbub fills the hall and surrounds the two. While she may not look anywhere near the brink of darting off to crawl beneath a bed or anything, she certainly looks at least vaguely disconcerted, tail flicking anxiously behind her in a manner that makes the cut of her dress just the slightest bit awkward.

"Oh! Erm, Blanche-" the woman greets awkwardly, snapped out of her anxious reverie as much as the ill-disguised appreciation makes her a tad shyer. A sudden new arrival sharply changes the dynamic - the medic's fur bristles, left hand moving to her side in startled reflex, and she eyes the hooved man with a wary glare, opting not to reply and hoping it's enough to get the message.

[Chaotic Bob]

Spoiler: Wrattleham Related Spoils

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[Near(ish) Wrattleham]

Yezekiel has totally moved.

She's moved a lot!

She's just still in about the same place as she was before.

Great pits have been torn into the ground around her, caused by roots from her hooves and belly that are rapidly being reabsorbed into her. They have a strangely regular, tessellated appearance to them. Not the sort of growth one would normally associate with something organic. Almost crystalline? The pits have filled in behind Yezekiel's departure with great masses of alien growth. Mostly iridescent bubbles that look disquietingly like eyes. It takes a few seconds of unfiltered observation before the seraphim notices that Xeni is back and that odd smudging effect kicks in again.

It's nice that Zee is self-censoring. Provided she knows where you are.

"Oh, hey Xeni. The fog was a great idea, good thinking. I'm just about done getting myself pulled up-" there comes a haunting, reverberating sound. Possibly the equivalent of a grunt from the alien creature. The ground shakes again as the air is filled with the cacophony of grinding stone. There's a brief impression of something long lifting into the air behind Yezekiel, followed by an impact like a thunderclap with enough force to throw someone off their feet.

Depending on how good the shocks are, they might feel Yezekiel's tail slap against the earth even as far as Wrattleham.

Which, incidentally, counts as perceiving the seraphim as well. Thankfully only for a fraction of a second, but those more attuned to her presence will without question notice.

Then?

The mountain of a monster is completely gone.

And it's just Zee standing there near Xeni, brushing some dirt and gravel out of her hair.

"Okay. How bad was it?" she asks, more than a hint of trepidation in her voice.

Wrattleham

The town's shock absorbers aren't great. That's one reason why it was dubbed Wrattleham, it does indeed rattle 'em. The shock is felt, but nobody takes any notice of it; it's barely distinguishable from the town's rocking and shaking as it traverses land that has never seen such a large vehicle before. Back in the Great Hunting Ground, most of the more egregious bumps and lumps had been flattened by large cities, though there were still some that remained- mostly the parallel ridges and depressions created by the wheels and treads of a true city, and not just left behind a scavenger-suburb like this one.

[Near(ish) Wrattleham]

Xeni has already seen plenty of horrible things lately. It's probably not as critical for her censorship towards him, as it is towards...the people she sort of missed that on.
For better or worse, he's remaining off the ground for the duration of this, so she doesn't even have to worry about that big ol' tail slap doing anything terrible to him.

He's interested in this process, academically, but he tries to bury that pretty quick. The headache from sticking his head in places it doesn't belong to find Zee faster helps with this, incidentally.
It does not particularly help make him less blunt about his report.
"Uh, well, back when I actually had a job, we had a sliding scale for this sort of thing. Tended to depend on location and some rough future probabilities.
That town rates pretty firmly on the 'obliterate it' end of the scale, for pretty much anywhere but this messed up place. You got 'em pretty good, mostly. Some folks that were lower down seem...less You'd, but the rest are, uh."

His shape flickers a bit, finding a visual demonstration to probably be the better course of action. Just rapidly cycles through as many of the townsfolk as he can remember off-hand, short of the massively mutated ones like the Mayor. Starry, excess-limbed, and otherwise distressing features abound. For whatever reason, he stops on the guy with the finger-beard, keeping that for the present.
"You pretty much ruined the leadership. They want you bad."

Now, he isn't trying to be mean about this. Xeni's keeping a (relatively) affable tone, so there's that. He's definitely not amused, but it was still technically an accident from a close friend. This usually earns mitigating points with people.
Even when it's a pretty hideously colossal screw-up.

He's seen worse.

[Rebonack]

[Near(ish) Wrattleham]

"They want me bad..." Zee echoes.

She looks absolutely, honestly distraught by this.

This isn't what she was trying to do.

At all. And looking at her face for even a moment betrays that.

"Yeah it... that's what the shards do. All the time every time. Things like me get inside someone's head and they want more of it. It isn't like... like they're designed to do that. Or I want them to do that. It's just what happens. Usually these cults find something and it worms its way into their mind and they start spreading 'the good word'. Then the meme reproduces."

A beat.

"I'm not talking about image macros! The original concept behind the word. Ideas acting like genes. Passing themselves on. Working to reproduce themselves. That's how the idea of an empyrean is. Always. Every time. Once they know me they want to know more and they want others to know, too. The idea encourages its reproduction. They'll get kind of a tenuous idea of what I'm about mostly through the spheres I'm connected to, what they do with that is largely up to them."

She gazes off through the fog.

"So... I'm going to go talk to them. Clean up the worst of the mutations. Give them... some kind of direction, I guess? Oh floof I am absolutely not cut out to start a religion. Ha. No pressure, right? Haha..." she chuckles a bit manically. "You should get back to Town, Xeni. Kara is seriously worried about you. She's trying to not show it, but she is. Get cleaned up. Get some rest. Maybe stop poking that Icon? It isn't good for you. I'll catch you around, okay?"

Then she rather abruptly shrinks out of existence.

Where does she pop back up, you ask?

[Wrattleham]

Right on the observation deck where all the leadership is.

And she isn't totally folded in on herself like she typically is. Her true form is on display, albeit in microcosm. Just enough to make it absolutely obvious who she is. Her shape is nearly identical to what was seen from afar, just far more humanoid and far, far smaller. She's shrouded enough to prevent the sight of her from reshaping things in her image, but not so much as to prevent her Glory from flooding the room. It feel likes the sun shining in its strength after a heavy rain. Clean and bright.

She appears, hovering a few inches off the ground. Two wings are wrapped around her legs, obscuring her feet. Two wings are wrapped around her head and shoulders, obscuring her face. And two are spread wide, full of eyes around and within.

Three words full of life, strength, and resolve.

"BE NOT AFRAID."

The sound of the angel speaking fills them with determination.

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham Town Hall

As soon as Zee appears within their room, those that are able leave their chairs and prostrate themselves before Her. Obviously, the mayor doesn't move; he's pretty firmly rooted in to that chair.

The mayor is immediately obvious, as he's the oldest guy aboard the whole town. He's a bald chap in his fifties, and his faded orange overalls have been ripped and torn by a network of glassy roots which have grown from his legs and back, curling about the battered armchair that serves as his throne and anchoring him in place. His eyes reflect the night sky. Sat nearest him is a twelve-year-old boy with four arms in the sleeves of his fur-lined coat; fortunately, it's several sizes too large and he hasn't ripped it. His skin is translucent, like it's made of glass, and dotted with constellations of stars. On his head is half a plastic globe, serving as a hat. There's a draconic-looking woman covered in dark scales, with glassy antlers, a pair of arms growing from her shoulders before branching into two forearms and four hands and too many fingers each, pressing one of her many organic eyes to a seaside pier telescope bolted to the floor. The radio-operator looks like the mayor, minus the roots; she has an arm growing from the centre of her chest and an extra leg that ends in a seven-fingered hand at her hip. She's covered in eyes and mouths, most of them seeming to open into the gulf of interplanetary space, a few more organic or glassy in their look, and her skin is glowing just enough to be noticeable. The final person sat down has three faces overlapping each other, one slightly to the left of the original and one slightly below, giving them five eyes, three noses and two mouths. Their arms look like wings, covered in feathery leaves, fingers and tongues.

"Great Saint! We see You again! Oh, forgive us for fleeing from Your Glory; our Engine Foreman has usurped control of our town, and will not listen to reason! Please, forgive him his sin; he's the best mechanic I've ever known." The Engine Foreman could nearly murder thirteen people in broad daylight witnessed by the whole town and get away with it. "And though he does not know it, he shall be vital for bringing the light of Municipal Darwinism to this benighted, primitive land." Since Wrattleham doesn't have jaws, and its shape would require pretty extreme demolition and rebuilding to fit them. The best place to put them is currently occupied by Wrattleham's massive front wheel.

[Morty]

[Nightmare Forest]

Nothing seems to happen when Quin cuts down the tree. No attack, protest or anything of the sort. The tree falls across the river with a quiet thud. The few rocks occupying the river in this section scurry away before it, then become still again.

[Rebonack]

[Wrattleham Town Hall]

Okay.

Okay Yezekiel you've got this, right?

You've dealt with Shadel's cultists before and that went fine. This is fine. Everything is fine. You'll do fine.

Just have to, haha, just have to make up a religion on the spot right? Ha. That's easy! No problem. You talked philosophical stuff with Wenomir before about the Riddle. It made sense because of how close it was to you. He was surprised you got it. Just expand on that. And probably make sure they don't cut people's hearts out and sacrifice them to you or something.

Okay.

Okay, here goes.

"Know that I am Yezekiel, the One Who's Light Grows Brighter in Adversity. I am the Blade of Self Turned Inward, cleaving away weakness, carving who I am to ever greater Glory. I am the Gift of Strength in Perseverance given to all living things, the desire to prevail in resolution. I am She Who Stands at the Nexus' Threshold and embraces all those castaway, for my love and my gift is given without partiality. You will be still and hear of Truth."

That sounded pretty good, right? She's just introducing herself here. Telling them what she is is pretty easy.

Um.

Ummm...

Maybe stall for a bit.

Yezekiel does a good job of making that pause seem like it was intentional. Just let them consider her words for a bit, no need to totally overwhelm them right? Oh! She should probably convince them that not looking at her was a good idea.

"The Engine Foreman acted in wisdom. To look upon my face unveiled is too much for you. My Glory has grown within you, but without my hand to guide it that Glory would have consumed you as a candle in the presence of the sun. My first Truth is this: take shelter under my wings and know the Blade of Self."

Then she spreads her outstretched wings wide.

Wider.

Wider.

Wider until leafy pinions and stellar eyes fill every inch of the town.

It lasts only a fraction of a second. All those who have already seen her will feel an inkling of her strength. Where before the mutations had been chaotic and random, now with her help they can turn the Blade of Self Inward. They may carve out who and what they are. The mutations can be reshaped. They will remain in Yezekiel's image, star and glass and dragon and tree, but rather than purposelessness they can be driven toward purposefulness. Not perfection, improvement without end.

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham

The Steering Committee stay still and listen, which later extends to the whole town as Zee's wings spread across the traction-town. Fortunately it doesn't distract the Gut workers for long enough to cause issues, as they're the least mutated.

Given the gift of shaping their mutations, the Mayor reduces the size of his roots, and de-attaches them from his surroundings, so he can move if he wants to. The Routemaster doesn't change much, moving some of the eyes and other physical changes under his clothes into more convenient places. The lookout changes more human, but alters herself so she can use her wings and actually fly. The radio operator changes her extra leg into an arm, and moves both it and her other extra arm to more symmetrical places, though it ruins her clothing a little. The quartermaster changes their head so the faces are next to each other and their arms are actually usable, though they can't fly.

Smaller changes take place across the scavenger-suburb, mostly to make them more useful; eyes moving from chests and backs to necks and faces, fingers moving to hands, mouths connecting to lungs so they can speak, and so on.

[Chaotic Bob]

[Near(ish) Wrattleham]

It's a good thing that she feels bad. Maybe she'll try a little harder with future scouting of feeding grounds.
He doesn't like that she feels bad, on an emotional level, but guilt is a powerful learning tool.
Like his own guilt.
He pulls out a small little pocket watch, covered in soot and the metal sheered in places as if by claws. Xeni stares at it for a few moments, before putting it back into his robe's pocket.
"Probably just in that tavern, still."

A whole year.
It's curious, how self-loathing, guilt, and fear can be self-perpetuating, driving their host further and further away from what is most inclined to help them. Subtly, sometimes, perhaps by postponing projects by "just a couple days", or more overtly, but running in the opposite direction of whatever it is you're supposed to be doing.

He glances off in the direction of Wrattleham, where Zee has gone, then off in the vague direction of Inside, where Kara resides.
"I'll be there soon, kiddo."

Then Xeni turns and heads off towards Zee's newly created cathedral, to see if it's hiding what he hopes it's hiding.

[Rebonack]

[Wrattleham]

Doing good. She's doing pretty good so far. Just keep this up. The people won't be debilitated by chaotic mutations anymore. That's certainly a start.

"The second Truth is this: do not flee from adversity; for in its crucible the Blade of Self is tempered," Yezekiel commands.

She's making this up as she goes, right? It doesn't quite feel like that. It's strange. Almost like this ideas are just kind of coming out of her naturally. Is it like this for all empyreans? She honestly has no idea. There's a bit of tangential relation to her spheres, all colored by the nature of her quintessence. She continues to speak, the words coming unbidden to her.

"The third Truth is this: the journey toward your Meaning is one which never ends; with the Blade of Self you must cut your path."

That's a good one, right? Yezekiel feels her existence is less one of perfection and more one of improvement. The world changes, and she changes to overcome it. She resolves her Meaning through her actions.

"The fourth Truth is this: with Will you wield the Blade of Self; there is no act of Will greater than Love."

Okay. Four feels right. And that's a good one to leave off on, too, right? It isn't just about you. No one is alone. It isn't good to be alone. Aloneness is, in fact, one of the worst things. Maybe she should expand on rule four a little? Or what she means? Yeah, she'll do that.

"I am Yezekiel, She Who is Bound Together in Love. One can not be bound together alone. To be bound together there must be many. Share my Gift. Share my Love. Show them that my Truth is the Correct Path by which to ascend the Tower. Let the weak say, 'I have been strengthened!' Be faithful to my Truth and I will await you in the Planes of Eden."

She dips her outstretched wings, gently touching all those who had fallen on their faces before her.

"Love seeks friends, not slaves. Rise. My words are spoken. What would you say to me?"


[The Shrine of Glass]

Xeni, meanwhile, has decided not to follow some really great advice. Zee would probably be a bit disappointed.

From the outside it looks quite fancy, an otherworldly edifice gleaming and brilliant. But as soon as Xeni steps inside it becomes instantly and deeply obvious that this place is somehow even weirder than the garden it's sitting in the middle of. For one? It looks way less alien. Everything is fashioned of amber colored, frosted glass interspersed with black to create pleasing geometric forms that draw the eye. Pillars line the edges of the cathedral, capped with gold at either end. Between each pillar hangs a heavy green curtain that shimmers and glistens in the flickering firelight. Firelight cast by statues that stand before each pillar.

An angel with six wings draped in a tunic and robe carved from living, polished wood. A cowl hangs heavily over the face of the statues, obscuring her features. Each has six wings spread wide, two at the hips, two at the shoulders, and two emerging from slots in the cowl where ears might be. Four human arms are extended in various poses, each hand holding something different. A glass star, fire burning within, the source of the chamber's light. A sword, its tip pointed toward her breast, as though she were offering the weapon to the onlooker. A compass (the drawing sort, not the magnetic sort), held delicately between three fingers raised in a sign of blessing. A scribe's inkhorn with a quill sticking out of it, a pinion vibrant in color.

At the back of the shrine, far further back than should be possible given how large it looked from the outside, stands a set of massive oak double doors.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Shrine of Glass]

This place doesn't speak especially promising of the future for Wrattleham. Looks like's Zee's influence is inherently religious, to some degree or another, which means...they're probably definitely going to go full-on cult.
Cool.
Well, that's...it really shouldn't be a problem for later, because "later" in cult-time usually means they've gotten quite a bit worse.

But Zee's already looking into them and surely she won't do anything stupid like tell them to spread the religion right?

Back to the matter at hand.
Xeni pulls out a little notebook, too large for the pocket it originated from, jotting some notes and quick sketches of the surrounding temple on a page unfilled by masses of other "dangerous for public consumption" style notes. This book is probably a pretty high grade threat on its own, if someone foolish picked it up from him. All sorts of research notes on his Icon, his experiments with the Dreamheart, and what he knows of the Empyreans (mostly Zee).
Good thing it's always tucked away on his person?

"Okay, so...if I was anything particularly sensitive or powerful related to Zee's influence on the mortal plane, I would probably be behind those doors right? Right."

Xeni is definitely going to go through those doors. Sure sure, doing the safe thing of carefully opening them and making sure there's no explosions of Truth(!) goo or something, but definitely going in.

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham

The navigator, when allowed to rise, is quick to write the Four Truths down. Later, they'll be stamped into a metal plate that will then be welded to the side of Wrattleham's access lift.

The third Truth is the one most of the Wrattlers understand best, or think they do. They've been journeying their whole lives, and not just in the metaphoric 'walking the road of life' sense, but literally moving from one place to another. The others also are listened to, and clearly the first and second are more important than the third (since that's the order Yezekiel said them in), but the third's the one that feels most relevant to them and their lifestyle.

"Thank You, thank You for visiting us and giving us further gifts! We shall spread the word of Your Truths, and bright Your Light to the savage mossies that inhabit this land!" They might take the 'journey' part a bit too literally. "We shall please You, great one, we promise it!"

[Rebonack]

[The Shrine of Glass]

Oh, yeah, haha, Zee totally wouldn't tell them to spread the religion.

That would be crazy.

But yes.

Religious imagery seems to be pretty inherent to what Yezekiel is. Empyrean, the Eden Fields, the Tower of Shinar. Angels and the like. All very religious soundings things. The sort of stuff that would be associated with the upper planes in many cosmologies. Oddly enough no gods though. Maybe that's what those Living Ideals or Ideal Forms or whatever the heck they're called are? Zee hasn't talked about them as if they were gods, though.

This place, though?

Totally looks like some kind of temple.

The dangling censers hanging from the ceiling burning sweet, heady smelling incense really adds to that ascetic. All it needs is some people in robes walking around chanting. There isn't anything expressly sinister about it, though, either. Don't temples to nasty divinities usually have... nasty things? Like more blood? And wavy daggers? And skulls? Or bloody wavy daggers stuck inside of skulls? None of that, here.

Engraved into the massive oak doors are more images of that four-armed angel. One one side she appears to be standing benevolently above adoring worshipers. On the other she's driving nightmarish looking things into a body of water. Chasing fae back into the Dreamheart, maybe? Also engraved into the door? Words.

Before you stands both adversity and glory. Do not flee from adversity; for in its crucible the Blade of Self is tempered.

Huh... maybe Zee wasn't making up those Truths quite as much as she thought she was?

Xeni pushes the door open and-

Reveals a short hallway. And another door.

The style here is quite a bit different from the last room. Imagine, if you will, uneven polished branches all twining around each other like the walls of a hedge. They grow over, under, around, and through. There would be innumerable gaps to get one's foot stuck in, if not for the colored glass set into each cavity. Soft light shines through every surface, casting the hallway in a riot of swirling colors. It's like walking through a stained glass window, images all around of... many things. People. Places. Events. All with a vaguely sacred feel to the imagery.

Karaglen would probably think it is very pretty.

The door before him is cast from living oak, whorled and irregular. A patch of glass shaped roughly like a hand is set into the right side of the door, light shining through it.

With each step there comes a crystalline tone from the floor, a hauntingly beautiful theme for Xeni's perilous journey. Apparently sneaking through here isn't an option.


[Wrattleham]

Okay.

She was hoping for a little more than groveling when she was done but sure. She can work with this.

Hmm... what else...

Maybe- oh!

Right. She should make a Pact with one of them probably? But which one?

How will she choose?

A plan quickly forms in her mind.

"So you have sworn. So let it be done."

And then in a flash the seraphim departs from their sight-

-but she isn't gone.

Yezekiel is hanging just outside of reality where she can watch them unobserved. She wants to trail them for a while, maybe even a few days their time? She wants to see what they'll do. She wants to see how they'll relate to others. How they'll spread the word. How they're treat outsiders and the weak. Once the time is right she'll pose as one of those poor, weak outsiders. And the cultist that follows her Truths mostly rightly in deed and in motivation? That's the one she'll offer a Pact to.

When Yezekiel vanished there was something left behind as well. A single leaf-shaped feather, iridescent green and gold. There's an eye-spot near the top, a blot of absolute darkness ringed in stellar white. The relic radiates power. Touching it won't mutate someone further, but touching it while reciting the Four Truths of Yezekiel will allow a shard of the seraphim into their mind if they lack one. Anyone already touched by the seraphim who picks up the feather will immediately understand the vital nature of this sacrament. If someone really wanted to refine the Blade of Self they need to hold the feather and recite the Truths.

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham

They're quite new to the idea of actually meeting their gods; though it should possibly be noted that a statue of Sooty Pete, patron god of the Gut, has been thrown off the side of Wrattleham and rests in the sand behind it now.

The radio operator picks up the feather. If Zee's watching, she announces that, as it's her job to deal with communicating with outsiders, she's the ideal choice for the priest. The others agree with this, with pressure from her father (the Mayor).

They're really isolated right now; it'll probably take a few days before they encounter anyone. They're quite welcoming, however, though at first a little preachy. They develop out of it, as they grow more comfortable and confident in their new faith. They treat the weak with kindness, and offer a place to live for anyone who wants one; they also explain the basics of Municipal Darwinism to the communities where they stop for trade, and make gifts of designs for great engines and wheels, letting the town's mechanics and blacksmiths look around Wrattleham's Gut to see how it works.

Nightmare Forest

"Did anyone else see the rocks move, or was it my imagination?" Regardless, Makuro's going to cross the makeshift bridge first. Her wall-climbing power and enhanced sense of balance mean she's not really at risk of falling in, but she'll move carefully regardless. She doesn't trust this log to stay stable.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Shrine of Glass]

"Tempers the self...unless the Self breaks, instead."
Xeni has some choice words to say on the subject of seeking out adversity, starting and stopping with all of his lost friends. It's bitter, perhaps, but how can one gracefully accept being so nearly alone?
He's not entirely alone, there's Zee and Karaglen, and wherever Yurioc ended up...but there were so many more.
Damn that dragon.

Feeling just a bit more irritable, he makes a note of the door's proverb and the shape of the hall beyond, before deciding that he's done with that for a bit.

Hearing the floor chime up at him tempts him to just...float his way through, but he's already been splurging on his magic today and if this place harbors monsters, he shouldn't weaken himself even more than he already has. This is not the sort of place he wants to resort to his fists, no matter how potent his heritage makes them. Baby Empyreans probably don't care.
We'll take this place straight, until it presents itself more aggressively.

So forward Xeni goes and onto the marking goes his hand.

[Rebonack]

[Nightmare Forest]

"Those rocks did something skittery," Lapis observes as she begins crossing the fallen tree, dropping crumbs behind her. "I didn't like it."

It would appear as though fae stuff, particularly creepy fae stuff, is on the short list of things that Lapis doesn't love.


[The Shrine of Glass]

If the Self breaks, Xeni, it can be reforged.

Just look at Karaglen.

Musings aside, Xeni touches the mark on the door. It makes a pleasant chime and swooshes upward out of sight-

-just as the double doors seal behind him.

Swell.

No going back that way.

The design of the next chamber is rather similar to the entry hall, tangled branches and luminous glass. Several hollows are cut into the west wall, bearing more of those angel statues. Though on a smaller scale. The ones back in the temple area were a bit larger than life. These ones are hardly a foot tall. Something about them seems vaguely off... There's also a stool growing out of the floor. As in... actively growing. Like it is getting bigger and more stool-like with each passing moment. A helical archway leads off to the south while on the north wall there are two doors not unlike the one that Xeni just came in through. However, the glass panel on their surface isn't glowing.

Also?

There comes a thumping sound from behind Xeni.

Like a rabbit beating its foot against the ground.

Should Xeni turn the rabbit thing from earlier is standing in the entry hall.

Staring at him.


[Wrattleham meets Sebastian's Ford]

While the town is visiting a small town some time later Zee will appear in the guise of a traveler, weather worn and weary. She's one of the many normal folk staying at the local inn when the great rolling village begins to approach, drawing murmurs of fear and wonder from all the common folk living on the ground. She joins the crowd of people leaving the buildings and braving the miserable drizzle of winter rain to peer at the approaching vehicle.

What is it?
Who are they?
Is it dangerous?
Never seen nothin' like that afore.

As small as the town is, it's unwalled. They have a few militia men and full time guards, but armed as they are with muskets and a few repeater rifles they couldn't hope to fight off something like that. It may have been the plume of steam and coal smoke billowing above the town's small factories that drew the attention of Wrattleham. They have steam engines here, but nothing more advanced.

[Halae]

Bufopolis

This one's... Not entirely are religious dispute, though the religions did get involved and do exacerbate things.

Mrs. Glubbholt first, I think? Emily went to 'her' house, but two of the three potential mayoral candidates are 'hers'. It's a pretty standard log cabin, and the door is answered by a middle-aged woman. She's wearing a pinstripe suite with a cravat, but she's swapped the bowler for a tight bonnet and she's tied a much-used white apron about herself. She's got grey skin, large bulbous eyes, one green and the other milky white from a cataract, and her hair (if she has any) is hidden by the hat. She's heavily built, with long legs, and she carries... Well, it's probably a baby, but it might be a very large and human-like toad lying on its back and dressed in a yellow baby-gro. "C'n Ah help ya, Miz?" Her voice is croaky and her throat bulges as she speaks, almost like a toad's.

[Bufopolis]

"I believe you can, ma'am," Emily says politely, "I'd like you to tell me more about the Gulper of the Moon, and if possible stop any of the other villages from sacrificing people to him. It's just going to invite further reprisals and death, and I'm trying to negotiate a proper peace, you see."

[Reinholdt]

[New Inside - Castilla]

There is a little groan from underneath the covers. "This is all difficult to explain, okay?!" Ilpholin can see the pixie shift around underneath.
"Angels are like... the city guard? Whoever is enforcing the law where you live. So if anyone breaks the law, they become a criminal and gets hunted by the law enforcers, right? Well, this is sort of like that. Whoever breaks our laws is deemed a demon, like a criminal, and is marked as such by the angels. It's impossible to escape. You can't even refer to yourself as anything but a demon anymore. Most demons are just bad spirits though but these ones were different. They had spirits, uh... y'know, possess them, but not really. I mean, spirits can do all sort of things to your body when they possess you, right? Well, imagine if you controlled the spirit possessing you and could make yourself super-strong and all that. That's what they had done and not just on themselves. They had all these monsters with them too, looking like they were some strange mix of all sort of animals." They attempt to explain.

[New Inside - Castilla]

"I think I can imagine that, yes." Ilpholin says, holding one arm with the other. So that's what it was. How she felt. Back then.

"And these marks by the Angels. You can actually see them? Without the aid of magic or whatever?" That sounds like it could be incredibly useful to find demons that might try to blend in and pretend they aren't. Even more effective than the silver test.

"Do you have any idea why they attacked you?"

[Shadowcaller]

[A meeting place]

Arkant looks sceptic at the incoming pumpkin. It's not like he never saw this before, but in fact he hasn't thought a person like helios will choose this form to appear in front of him. Befor he speaks up he will check if there is any magic source around. Just to make sure this isn't just a trick. He will then turn to the pumpkin.

"Is that really your favorit form?" he ask. "From our previouse talk I would have assumed something more... divine? Maybe I'm just a bit old school for that."

[A meeting place]

"Ah, you've looked into me. I'm honored by the attention." The pumpkin seem to make a nod or a bow as it floats in the air, it's features animate enough to convey the feeling of an actual person talking through it. "However, I find it generally wise to leave preconceptions at home while in the nexus, don't you think? They're useful notions but here they all seem to have a little, but crucial, twist to them. Now, if you prefer a more godly display there are ways of summoning me. Though even then I don't think I can really live up to the traditional images your 'old school'ed self might associate to the divine." The pumpkins grin grow wide. "So let's put that aside for now and treat me as simply a lore broker. Nothing more, nothing less. This pumpkin is simply a disposable vessle used for communication, so let's get down to that through a simple question. What do you desire? Try to be specific, I'm not a genie." The pumpkin is grinning at him once more.

[New Inside - Castilla]

There are some more subtle shifts underneath the blanket which might just be the pixie shrugging. "Uh, I dunno. Not that I hang around demons but I know the marks are made to make them easily identifiable. Sort of the point, y'know? For one, some angel-y materials start to act weird around them. Like, starting to glow and stuff. Then they also give off this wrongness, like an inch inside your head, we can pick up on. Not sure if morts can though. As I said, I don't make a habit out of hanging out with no demons. The ones that came just seemed interested in murder, they were speaking this weird language I couldn't make sense of." 'Thinky' pauses for a moment. "But... I guess one of them was carrying around a skull I'm pretty sure came from a dragon. Which is super-odd as dragons are like, made to destroy demons. All parts of them, even their bones, are bad for them. So I'm guessing the skull had something to do with it as they made the effort of carrying it there. No clue what though."

[Reinholdt]

[New Inside - Castilla]

"Oh. That's unfortunate." Not for one of the pixies though. Seeing as how they get to keep their eyes.

Ilpholin frowns. A piece of the staff? Not the missing piece though. That should be in VIGIL's care already. Did they lose it while Ilpholin was distracted with her compleation? But even then, why would the demons risk it out in the open like that? Looking for the rest of it? Or something worse?

Grand. She only had more questions now, none of which this fairy could provide. "Tell me how to get to where you were when the demons attacked you."

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham & Sebastian's Ford

Wrattleham is quite smokey as well; there's several engines and exhaust pipes putting smoke and ash in the air behind it. Wrattleham slows down as it approaches, and comes to a stop far enough away it doesn't risk hitting any of the buildings, if the brakes fail. The militia are pretty outclassed; the town's fitted with a rocket projector for aerial defence and a pair of machine guns flanking its front wheel. They're not used much; Wrattleham's a scavenger-suburb, and does a lot of trading. Mostly for self-defence, or occasionally fighting the Slaver's Guild of Skyside.

After it comes to a stop, a metal cage suspended from some chains makes a jerky way down from the town's gut to the ground. There's three people aboard, who disembark and hold their hands up and out. They're unarmed, but a sharpeyed observer might note a few riflemen lurking on Wrattleham's tier and underdeck ready to raise and fire if the Forders shoot first.

The three people who disembark are the radio operator, with her four arms and star-specked skin, wearing a loose robe made primarily from plastic bags sewn together, her blonde hair hanging loose and free. The quartermaster with their three faces, wearing a suit and a yellow baseball cap. A black-skinned engineer with a cluster of eyes making up his face, head crowned with glass antlers, wearing an orange jumpsuit and carrying a folder of designs and books. "Greetings, townspeople! I am Speaker Fiona, and the traction-town you see behind me is Wrattleham! We are here to trade and spread the word of Yezekiel and Municipal Darwinism! I bring with me Quartermaster Stefano, our head trader and master of the warehouses, and Engineer Bernard, who has a copy of the design for Wrattleham's engines and books to share with you, on engineering a traction-town of your own. Anyone who wishes to visit us and find out more about how Wrattleham works and the faith we bring, is welcome to do so."

Bufopolis

"So why en't ya talkin' to de Mayor? Ah've got no say in 'ow dis town's run. De Gulper Ah c'n 'elp ya wiv. Whaddaya wanna know?" Not everyone yet knows the Mayor's dead, though it's probably spreading quite fast.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Shrine of Glass]

More weird statues, a weird living chair(?), probable exit to the south, probable remote locks to the north, and...oh hell no.

Xeni's simple categorizing of the scene in front of him is rather rudely interrupted by the sound behind, and whirling around leads to him very nearly flinging a rather unfriendly ball of fire at the Rabbit Thing.
His fingers still light up, dancing into a small orb on the palm of his hand as its cocked back, but it doesn't quite release.

He stares at it for a minute, before challengingly speaking out.
"On the off-chance Zee made you another intelligent spawn of hers, I'm gonna give you a chance to convince me not to blow you up.
Go."

This is probably a somewhat extreme reaction without context, but Zee's influence on the world is not inherently benign by mortal standards and it very well could be a blood-thirsty monster.
Also it's creepy as all get out and blowing it up would probably go a long way to helping him sleep at night.

[Halae]

[Bufopolis]

"The mayor is, unfortunately, dead, and you're one of the folks with a lot of pull here in town," Emily explains simply, "But at the moment, finding out more about the Gulper is important. For instance, how did your people here come to discover him? What sort of offerings has he demanded in the past? Are there any important things you think I should know about him?"

[Earl of Purple]

Bufopolis

"Hrm. Old Mayor was a jerk. Never did like 'im. Ah gots no pull yet. Ah c'n see why Ah'd be a runner for Mayor, though. We found 'Im when we came 'ere, long ago. My grandparent's time, Ah think. That pond beneath 'Is feet is clean drinkin' water. Dat's why we built our town 'ere. Our ancesters found 'Im by bathin' when dey was dirty. Normally, all 'E wants is people to bathe in de pool. We don't get no sickness, normally. Dis was an exception, not norm'l practice. 'Ard to say what ya should know 'bout 'Im. 'E's the pappa of dis 'un, an' tree of my udder kids. Not Billy. 'Is dad's me 'usb'nd. Mostly 'E likes de girls. An' de guys. Youngsters get more visions 'n bedder visions dan oldsters. Dey get pregn'nt more, too. De girls, not de guys. 'Ard to say what 'E wants, really." Mrs. Glubbholdt rocks her possible-toad-or-baby a little as she talks, and it seems likely it's a baby, though with a statue of a three-eyed toad as the alleged father, hard to say for sure. Particularly since the three-eyed toad's probably the grandfather, too.

[Murkus]

[Hillside Rambling]

"What?" Viviana is tugged close naturally, and she puts her arms around Lucy to squeeze tight. She's not a powerfully built woman by any means, but for a moment there's the strength of all the earth in those freckled arms. "Lucy no. You are real. You are... Can't you see?"

[The Joining House]

"Ah, oh, sorry lady," the red haired man says, straightening, his tone not particularly apologetic... but he makes his manners by bowing at least before he hops off her table. "Bite me with those eyes only, and not those lioness fangs, I beg."

Vots shoots a glare at his back that could wilt flowers, but otherwise lets Blanche's own look do the talking on that account.

Rami tuts. "Sorry, lady. Darro's all randy and anxious with the wedding. Makes those unwed among us jealous."

Votsona watches Blanche for a moment, pushing Rami off of him when he's said his piece. "Aye, git on, ye gawper. Go be jealous elsewhere." He leans forwards a little conspiratorially over their food once they're relatively alone. "...Do you like the look of my cousin Fidella? If you'd desire it, we could go where there are more ladies than these dancing fools. Hang about with Fidella and the other cabin keepers. I bet she could use a break." Vots' eyes gleam merrily. "I think she seemed to take your liking too."

[Rebonack]

[The Shrine of Glass]

Xeni yells his challenge at the Rabbit Thing!

The Rabbit Thing responds by growing.

It's like watching a blackberry bush brambling in extreme fast motion. One end of the Rabbit Thing is rooted to the ground, but the other end begins stretching and branching and thickening and slowly leaning forward as it becomes more and more top-heavy. In the blink of an eye its top has touched the floor and taken root itself while the previous trunk snaps off and begins to rapidly sublimate.

The Rabbit Thing is moving toward Xeni.

Like the more horrifying slinky ever.

Each time its top hits the floor there's that thumping sound again as it rapidly grows perilously closer.

It isn't particularly easy to get a read on the thing but it doesn't seem friendly. Or nice. Or even benign.


[Wrattleham & Sebastian's Ford]

When it becomes clear that the strange rolling town isn't going to be raiding them, the folk of Sebastian's Ford calm down notably. This is all quite odd to them still. They have a steam powered sump for keeping the mines the town is built around dry and trains for hauling the smelted steel they produce, but anything like that massive machine is well beyond their technological level.

The visitors will be approached by the town's mayor, chief blacksmith, and the local preacher once word of the purpose of the visit spreads.

"Well hello there, friends! I'm Mayor Taft, the man in charge around here and the owner of the local mine," Mayor Taft says, speaking around the cigar poking out of his mouth. He's a rather round man, a bit on the short side with thinning hair. He's dressed in fairly fine attire, comparatively speaking. "I've heard you're interested in doing some trading, perhaps? And maybe in sharing some engineering designs?"

"And in speaking on behalf of foreign gods," the preacher, a tall austere looking man with a slightly sagging, deformed face adds. "We worship many gods here in Sebastian's Ford, though our chief patron is Vulcan, the god of craft and fire. Who is this Yezekiel and how would her patronage help our town?"

The chief blacksmith, a woman wearing heavy leather overalls and stained with grease, shields her eyes with one hand and whistles at the sight of Wrattleham. "Now that's quite the sight. Can't imagine how big of a boiler you'd need to keep somethin' that huge running. What'd ya call it, a traction town? What do you need a town rollin' around for?"

Most of the townsfolk are turning back to their business, but there are several drifters still watching the exchange with interest, Zee included.

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham & Sebastian's Ford

"Wrattleham's not steam-powered; no boiler. We've got two multifuel internal combustion engines, one on each side of the front wheel. I've got the design for them here, ready to share. Why? Well, one reason is so we can go find the resources we need to keep our community alive. Before we drove into this Nexus, we spent a lot of time on the coast, looking for driftwood and other salvage that washed up on the shore. Another reason is because a long time ago, back home, a city decided to move and started attacking and eating smaller towns for resources. It... Kinda spread from there." The madness began when London was conquered by the Movement, a nomad empire that had heard of a previous London dictator's plan to move the city south, to the Mediterranean, and used his technology to turn London into a war-machine.

"Yezekiel is the Goddess of Perseverance, Survival and the Struggle to Improve. She is the Blade of Self turned Inwards, cutting away weakness. She is the Goddess who stands at the Nexus' Threshold, greeting all those castaway and showing them Her Love. She is the One Who is Bound Together in Love. We shall trade and share our knowledge with you regardless of if you worship Her, as She commands we find friends." And if they build a traction-town of their own, and take up Municipal Darwinism, they'll be worshipping Her by persevering, surviving and struggling to improve themselves and their traction-town.

"Indeed, yes! We have quite a few things to trade. A boat, made from fibreglass, a black fishing rod of unidentified material, steel and lead, designs for rifled firearms and trinkets made from plastic. Designs for a balloon of heated air, to travel the skies, and three bicycles of aluminium. We are interested in any plastic waste you may have, seeds for fruit and vegetables, designs for a mill to make flour, and a look at your machinery, in exchange for a look at ours." The fishing rod is broken but repaired, and made of carbon fibre. The knowledge of making carbon fibre is long lost by Wrattleham's time, so they really don't know what it is. Also, I don't expect they have any plastic to trade back, since they can melt it down to make more trinkets and ornaments.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Hillside Rambling]

"I-it's not that simple. If I stop and think about it, I know that Sylvess thought me into existence. They're not wrong. I-It's complicated, but Sylvess went through a lot a-and took to hiding in his personas a-and at some point it stopped being an act and I don't feel like him, I don't think like him. I pick up his stutter a bit, but that's it. But...it's still his body." It's hard to explain this, hard to express what it all means, what it feels like to be told you're not real.

And to start to think that the people telling you that are right.

Guess all that therapy must be working.

[Rebonack]

[Wrattleham & Sebastian's Ford]

"Well, can't say that we've got many cities trying to gobble us up," the chief blacksmith reasons. "But the area around here is rich in ore veins and our mine here is about tapped. There were plans to break down what we could and rebuild near another ore vein, but maybe if we could just wheel the whole town from one place to another that would be less trouble. Would be a shame to lose the rail lines, though. Trains are a great way to haul the steel we make and there wouldn't be much sense in driving the whole town when a train-car would do."

Hmm...

The blacksmith is pondering.

"I think I wouldn't mind seeing those designs. We have plenty of steel here, since that's what we make. And we've got a steam powered mill for grinding the wheat from the outlying farms. If you like, I could show you the schematics. Made it myself, I did," the blacksmith adds.

The Mayor is a bit uneasy about the subject of the move. After all, it was his mine the town was built around. "I can't say we have much in the way of plastic. A few of the travelers have carried it, but none of them know how to make it. It's a strange material, though, isn't it? Burns like tar."

The preacher nods at that description. "She sounds like a goddess who would have much to offer to frontier towns like this one. It's a hard life here, and it sounds like she smiles upon those who live hard lives. I can appreciate her devotion to hospitality. We're all travelers in this life and taking in wanderers is a sacred duty. Do you have any images of her we could add to our chapel?"

The blacksmith will show the visitors to the mill, if they're interested, while a small group of wayfarers approaches!

"Hail! Which way are you going with your wheeled village?" one of them asks, a wandering monk with a necklace of large red jade beads hanging around his neck. "Do you take pilgrims aboard?"

[Earl of Purple]

Wrattleham & Sebastian's Ford

"There's not so many trains where we're from. Most trade's by air. Because, y'know, the towns don't stay still. I think I've got a design for some Miner's Jaws somewhere. Jaws are a hydraulic mechanism used by towns to take bites out of something. Larger towns use them to munch smaller ones, but we've not seen any here. We've not had to run since... Over a year ago, now." Couple months before they drove into Nexus, the last time they had to run from another town. "Miner's Jaws take chunks outta hillsides and stuff. Require a lot of power, though. And I dunno if you've got the skills to manufacture that. Hydraulics are complex." And if they don't have the tech for internal combustion engines, they probably don't have the tech for that. "What's the grade of your steel? Any other materials you use?" And there's a talk of metallurgy and materials science I don't understand, probably during the tour. Wrattleham's mostly made from the decking of a raft-town, so I think there's a lot of aluminium, brass and so on- stuff that doesn't rust.

"Oh, it does. You don't burn it, though. It melts, if you get the temperature right. It's a very odd material, made by chemists and stuff. I don't really understand how it all works." That's why they want waste plastic- they melt it down to make new ornaments and trinkets they can (and do) sell. Then he turns to the pilgrims. "We don't have a destination in mind, but we do take travellers and wayfarers. We do ask that all aboard contribute to the community in some way if they are staying aboard for a long time, with the farms or teaching the children. Medicine if needed and able, but in exchange there's a roof, meals and social interaction." It's also not compulsory, it's simply that Wrattleham doesn't have the largest population for its size, and there's a fair bit to do.

"We have some, yes." They've learnt at the last town that admitting to having seen their god makes people doubt they're truly a god. She reaches out and pulls a sketch of Yezekiel, drawn by the Routemaster since he's got the steadiest hand as the cartographer and navigator. It's not coloured, and it was drawn on the move so it's got a few wobbly lines and stuff.

[Chaotic Bob]

[The Shrine of Glass]

"...dammit Zee."
On one hand, he was totally right.
On the other hand, this is horrible.
Back on that first hand, there's a lot of fire that is now being flung forward.

Does the Rabbit Thing like having a wave of fire being thrown over it? Hope it doesn't!
It's not an explosion or anything, not in tight quarters like this, but it's still pretty hostile to health.

Xeni will take this opportunity to move further back and maybe put that chair between the two of them.