WE GET WHAT WE DESERVE. - Printable Version

Tahi-shei Deimos had spent the past couple of cycles collecting an army. Now, he was returning to the Master with his collection of ragtag personalities in line. They were waiting in Tunnel G; he was approaching ahead of them, just in case Master Vargas didn't want a massive crowd all huddled into his living room.

He couldn't help but hesitate at the Aperture. It was clearly marked, even with his little vision -- the threshold into Draco, the place where the Master lived. The room that breathed. He'd had nightmares about it, on occasion; nightmares about the wheezing, groaning heartbeat of the room suddenly splintering open like a chrysalis and swallowing him whole. It was all just his overactive imagination, though. At least, he hoped it was. What was it Giggle had said about trusting your instincts?

Not that it mattered, not right now. Not with Tahi-shei taking the step into Draco like a sheep stepping into a den of wolves. "Master Vargas!" he called, his voice ringing out. He cursed himself quietly for not having come sooner for... so many reasons. But his sight, especially. The lack thereof. Would Master Vargas decide he was no longer useful--? The thought made his stomach drop.

But he needn't dwell on the possibilities. Right now, he needed to focus on being worth Vargas's time. "Master Vargas, I have collected as many Gembound as I could find. I have thirteen in total, fourteen counting myself -- although I will admit to you that some of them were conditional. Six of them are willing to offer their bodies as well as their magic to fight against the infection on the front lines, alongside your own soldiers; two of them are willing to aid only with their magic -- a third I must insist is more useful aiding only with magic, and is too valuable an ally to risk in battle," here, he referenced Giggle, "and the remainder who are promising their help to me, but not to you." He paused, and frowned. "... Actually, now that I think about it, there is quite a logical flaw in that, considering that I am taking orders from you, but... whatever rallies the troops, I suppose. They are waiting in the tunnel, and are prepared for any extra training -- or lack thereof -- you might offer them. I have taught each of them the most useful spells I have in combatting the affliction, and given them ample time to practice. All of them are offering their aid to you in destroying the Hive."

Tahi-shei finally took a breath, only to realize just how long he'd been talking, and closed his mouth again. He looked rather embarrassed, and made a mental note to stop rambling just because the Master made him nervous. Still, it was hard to forget having teeth at your throat.

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas strode to Tahi-shei at the summons, and listened to the report with interest. More than ten was a lot, and he was already considering in his mind how best to put them to use. But he'd need to see them first, and to get an idea of what they were capable of.

"Bring them in," he instructed, thinking; "and have them introduce themselves. I want designations--names--along with their capabilities and what they're here for, what they're willing to do individually. Then I can address your group. Well done," he added; and his tone was genuine, if brisk. The deer had been as true as his word.

Vargas wondered, briefly, if this form--the stag-like shape--was particularly suited to leadership, or the like; it was the form Astraea had taken, and the few deer Vargas had met seemed to be those who would arrange for followers, and orchestrate activities. He tucked this thought away for future use. "Have them meet me at the Black Spire," he added, turning to head that way; "I won't have them get too close. Its magic may harm them if they do, so I'll talk to them nearby it."

He then looked around, and bellowed. "DRACONUA?" he roared; was she in Draco, at the moment, or was she not? He intended to send her with this group, but he had to know where she actually was, first. "V-CHAOS-ONE. COME HERE." That was the other one, the other "mother-hunter" he was sending out. He hoped it'd be enough.

Vargas strode toward the Spire, and--rolling his shoulders--stepped up onto a raised shelf of land to wait. This hunk of rock, where it glimmered beneath the voidlight, was stained black; corruption had split it, the tantrum of a monster cracking lines through the earth, there. Dark crystals studded its surface. It seemed a good ledge from which to address Tahi-Shei's little army; Vargas was interested to see what they could do.

Tahi-shei drew in a deep breath, and nodded to Vargas. Did his best not to flinch at the roar as he turned back to his own group and called for them -- suddenly, for a split second, he was deliberating madly on what to say before settling on an awkward, "Er, come on!" Tahi-shei swore under his breath and stood by the entrance under the guise of letting everyone get in first. "Towards the Black Spire -- exactly what it sounds like. Don't get too close to it. The Master will test you, and hear what you have to say." He looked over a few of them in particular. "Please, I beg of you, be polite." And there was a genuine twinge of pleading in his voice -- he was worried about a couple of them.

In the meantime... he moved towards James once everyone was through, thankful for the spores in his pelt. He was able to gauge more-or-less the place he should stand, and couldn't help but hesitate at the radius of the Black Spire. Thank the Stars that he was sensitive to these kinds of things -- cycles of standing right at the edge of where the Spire became too overwhelming had trained him well. He felt... nervous. Petrified, like lightning was holding him together. Nerves and anxiety thrummed through his whole body. It was now or never, and unfortunately, how he looked was currently in the hands of other people.

Distantly, he prayed to whatever he could think of that Draconua wouldn't try to eat Temperantia.

There was a quietness in the Champion. It was a strange title to claim. She stuck out in Draco -- stark white against deepest black. But she'd made a promise to Tahi-shei, even if she'd blown off his stupid little training montage, and now she was here. To talk to a Master. She hated that, in a way. But she was a creature of her word.

"I can fight," she rasped, her voice rough from disuse. She hadn't had company in a while. "I survived a Hydra trial. That means something, I think." Sora thought for a moment about those who hadn't, and looked askance. "No magic. I find it disagreeable. But I'll still help you, in whatever ways you need." She was built to be a soldier anyway.

Did Tahi-shei feel guilty for what he'd done to her? Did he even spare her a thought? Did the Masters? No, probably not. Hopefully, at the end of this, she'd slink back to Pisces and sit in silence for a while with Tenzin. She liked him, as weird as he was -- Master or not, he was different from the rest. She could respect that.

James had done himself up for the occasion. His mane was braided along his neck, his feathers preened until they shone. His star necklace was around his neck and his tail was braided up beautifully too, in an intricate style with flowers in his mane and tail, most of them white and blue, but some were black as ebony.

He walked next to Tahi, calm, collected, analytical. As if talking to Aran or the Collector.

"I am with you," he mumbled to Tahi, and then looked up at Vargas, spreading his wings slightly, head tipped down, "My name is James. I am a magic-wielder, a powerful one. I succeeded in Emuh's trial in Polaris and completed the Three Kings' hunt across the caves."

Golden armor stretched across his figure and he stood taller, wings spread out more, completely gold, ears back, "I will not fight, but I will protect. I offer my magic to purge anyone infected of Mother's influence and to carry the wounded to be healed."

He was no offensive fighter but should the time arise, he would grant his shields and armor to protect the wounded and those who needed to retreat.

Once he'd spoken he dropped the spell and mellowed out, blinking slowly. He wasn't afraid, and really he should be, but not now. Maybe it was an 'in the moment' kind of thing.

'What a nice entrance,' she thought, ’A shame... no one can beat a queen when it comes to entrances.’

The Queen of Lies flew into Draco, her white cape of beautiful silky fur trailing behind her, taken from the bodies of multiple mountain deer, a feat for many and even more so for her. She landed ever so gently and walked forward, the hood atop her head shadowing the white mask on her face, her dress sleeve (also of soft wooly deer fur) riding up her arms to rest at the elbows.

"I am the Queen of Lies. Of deception, of mischief and of the Fair Folk," she said, and clasped her hands together, head tilted to one side, her insectoid body hidden within layers of fur and fabric, though a crack ran across her arm, a scar.

Around her shoulders were gem antlers, made of diamond and glittering in the void light, and atop her head was a crown of flowers and bone, pointed and terrifying.

"My fae are at your service, though none of us wish to partake in the battle ahead," she said, "Instead we will provide resources. I myself my plague bombs, meant to eat away at the body from the inside, and the others medical attention, food, and warm furs to protect against the chill."

She chittered quietly under her mask, the scars from Isra's Hellswans tingling as a reminder. Respect was due here in the lion's den.

She was miffed to see James toting one through her tunnel as his pet. Ugh. At least Rain was fashionably dressed.

Attikias had arrived with Carja and distrubuted armors where he could- otherwise, he'd attempted to keep up with the crowd on foot, hanging near the back and staying with the slower folk, or even offering perches for the smallest of them.

Of course, it wasn't easy when he was wearing pounds of hardened, dyed leather, with a bow and quivers and spear strapped to his back, adorned with a satchel full of stakes and rawhide in case he needed to set up snares or traps or something.

And, he still held the bone knife, held in its leather holster now. He still hated it. But-- perhaps, he could fulfill its purpose, now. He hated to think that way, though, and he didn't want it to, not if he didn't have to. Caves, he didn't even want to fight anymore- not with his young children hatched, not with the kids being left behind.

Carja was here, and he'd promised Tahi-Shei to help, but he still fought rising nausea as the call was set out for them to approach. He followed along, one hand playing with the red ribbon around his other wrist. He stopped short when he saw Vargas's massive form- then he pushed forward, jogging, determined.

"Master Vargas," he spoke breathlessly. What could he say? It has been seventeen cycles since he last saw the Master. He stared up, silent for a moment, before he nervously went back to running the worn red edges of the ribbon in his hand.

He wanted to say something about Alpha. About the time he'd met with it, about his concerns, about how Vivilene had been asking after it. It wasn't the time nor place, though, and he minutely shook his head, getting himself on track. "I usually don't hunt, anymore, not if I don't need to-" (even if he needed to here-) "but I made armor for people. I offered, reached out." He procured some of the items in his satchel- particularly, sets of leather leg braces, some for James and some for Tahi. Carja was carrying the rest, but this would need fine work to put on since the owners didn't entirely have hooves.

"They aren't extravagant, I couldn't make enough dye for every piece, but they'll help get the job done." Carefully, he inched closer to the two, holding out the pieces to be tied on. "I'm hoping it fits. Let me help put it on, in a second," he muttered to them.

He set the pieces down before their owners before opening his satchel again. "I've got some stakes and rawhide, too, if we need to make some snares. It'll be enough for a lot of sets, and I can set them up behind us if everyone can avoid them on our way out."

He frowned into the bag. "It's not a lot, though. I mean, it is, but I couldn't carry everything."

Carja was, admittedly, frightened. She hated the way the cave breathed and backed away from the tunnel when they initially arrived, scared they were just walking into the maw of some beast or something. Not to mention Vargas, who'd she'd been blatantly warned not to interact with, but here she was.

She crept forward, claws clicking on the ground, wearing her armor for ease, silver contrasting black, starry scales. She stood tall (definitely not standing behind Attikias, no) despite her anxiety, tail flicking gently.

”My name's C-Carja,” she said, and hissed just a bit at her stutter, ”I carry Attikias and he can shoot arrows while I fly above and I spit fire and ice at anything below. I can also drop the plague bombs and rocks too.”

She wouldn't be directly in the fray but she'd definitely be helping.

Carja set down the leathers she'd carried, passing things around to whoever asked for them, her wings touching the ground for balance as she used her arms.

Yeah. Yup. She was... here.

Good grief, had stuff happened. Tahi-shei, children, Voidmother... and now this. So many detours. Would they ever catch a break? Probably not, since this seemed to be just the beginning.

For this, Madhukar had come in almost fully costumed. Not everyone knew she was 'back'. Not everyone knew... who she was. Announcing her name and abilities was almost funny, actually. Most of the time Madhukar became known in small, unclustered spaces, through actions-- demonstrations, even. Introductions were usually a personal (and often accidental) thing. The last time she had publicly claimed a name and ability was the Olympics. That felt like eons ago, wow.

Well, since she was here, riding or-- she supposed she had to follow along with the crowd. Opting not strain her neck trying to look directly at the absolutely gigantic purple blob they were supposed to be talking to, the felinoid tentatively pulled the wooden mask off her face. "...Madhukar," she began, feeling her throat protest. Deep breath, calm it down, continue: "S...Storms." Yeah that summed it up alright. Oh! And since James had mentioned it-- "S- uh, won Emuh's trial." 'Success' and 'Succeeding' were pretty long words actually. That's like a whole two and three syllables (respectively)!

Hoping that was enough, since the panic at being known was already rising within her, Madhukar's eyes would eventually wander upward toward the purple titan up on ~~its~~ their ledge, since that was away from everyone else. The only thing she would really see and process upon seeing them was... the eyes.

--

Six radioactive green eyes.

Six radioactive green eyes.

Six radioactive -- titanic -- phantom pain -- torn in half -- jaw locked -- lightning -- death --

--

And she'd be stunned. She'd be stunned.

"Hey."

Here came Twisted. Siamese fur like a dark shadow in the strange lighting. Battlescarred paws spread out across the softly breathing rock. Emerald eyes and crystal, shining out in the sea of purple. Staring up at the monstrous beast that ordered this battle.

She could care less.

Really, she was practically dead inside. By this point, between the rapidly encroaching bloodfest, her chronic loneliness and the internal mid-life crisis she had at the forum, the feline decided it was best to simply roll with what was happening and don't ask questions. Follow Tahi? Sure. Follow Tahi into a demented cave that literally breathed? Alright. To a massive alien towering over her, covered in glowing spines? Rightio.

Twisted was a goon. She was a bully, she was a jerk, she was the cat who tried to rip ~~Madhukar's~~ someone's throat out right after she was born. To see her so agreeable would be a shock to anyone who didn't know her. Good thing none of her fellow militiamen did.

Oh, how wrong she was.

She approached the Black Spire. She looked at the monster, and as instructed, began to relay her information. "Twi--" "...Madhukar,"
Huh?

"S...Storms."

No, no, no. She couldn't be here. Who couldn't? Yourself... or her?

"S- uh, won Emuh's trial."

God, no, she couldn't fucking deal with this. No, no, she JUST moved on from the way she acted back then, just moved on from how that one move to-- to lunge at her ruined everything, it's all Maddy's fault, it's all my fault-- what happened to her? Why does she look like that is that what happens when you actually have friends-- lonely, lonely--

Ding. You're still gaping with your mouth open.

Put all those thoughts aside. You're Twisted. You're a strong, levelheaded warrior who doesn't need to think about what you did to someone seven cycles ago. She probably doesn't even remember you.

"Twisted." youshe said (return to normalcy, stop thinking about it), mustering up the willpower to look Vargas in the eye. "I run fast. I claw shit. I can probably rip a Hive's stone out before they even scream." She flexed a charcoal paw. "-Can draw out the fungi, too."

Keep your eyes up. Your voice level. Don't look at the familiar face next to you.