BZPRPG - Kentoku Archipelago

[25K Now!]

IC: Noshima

 

The noise was bubbling down now. People were still confused, angry, in tears, but they were no longer loud or chaotic. They were aimlessly standing around, still in shock from the events that had just transpired. Noshima understood how they felt. But this was not a time to be useless. This was a time to act, to ensure that the Rora's assassin would be caught, and to ensure that the people would be safe and orderly.

 

"The Hogo are currently in the process of guarding every exit. This room is locked down. Nobody can escape."

 

She swept her eyes over the crowd.

 

"Order must be maintained. Please conduct oneself in an orderly manner."

 

Grieve quietly. There is much to do.

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Hanako)

 

"There hasn't been much in the way of unrest. Whoever did this is probably trying instill political chaos in attempts to make a power play or something along those lines. We had the attempt that was foiled not too long ago, it's possible that the two were intertwined." I replied, grim but focused, my lady needed me, I planned on moving to comfort her, all I could do was move closer, but I couldn't do much more. We needed to focus on the matters at hand. "The question we have to ask, is who stands to gain the most from...from Yusanora's passing? If you want my mistress I can return to the floor and aid in the investigation." My eyes were downcast, and I moved my hand to touch hers and rub it, letting her squeeze it if she needed. She wasn't my Chojo anymore, She was my Empress.

[Constructelf]

IC Seiryu

Still crouched down, peering part the legs of the Hogo guards, Seiryu's mind was a storm of thoughts. He could solve this, he could solve this... He just needed information. Even if they didn't let him anywhere near the body, he could still find something that could help. He just needed information... "If nobody else, I could talk to her..."

 

"Fursic Ahrusa," he said with great concern, having risen from the ground to approach her. His stomach was churning from the very thought of having to speak to one of them, but Ahrusa, as far as he knew, could be trusted to a point. Besides, she was (minus the Hogo guards) probably the most useful person in this room. "What do we know right now?"

[Snelly]

IC: Arisaka

 

There were many, many reasons that Arisaka hated parties. Surprise assassinations were on the top of the list. It had been far too easy...far too simple, Arisaka had been watching the Rora when...it happened. It had been a soulsword blast, Arisaka could recognize it anywhere.

 

It took a moment for Arisaka to realise she was shaking, she was feeling many emotions, though the one she was feeling the most was rage. Only a spawn of Zataka was capable of something as wicked and evil as murdering the Rora. She was also angry at herself for being unable to protect the Rora, she'd trained and trained others all her life to protect the royal family. For someone to have murdered the Rora in her presence and still be unable to prevent it, or even catch the assassin, was beyond frustrating. While it was true it had not her duty to directly protect the Rora tonight, she still felt like she'd failed her whole clan.

 

Arisaka felt sharp pain in her hand, looking down at it she realised she'd been clenching her wine glass so tightly she had shattered it in her hand, blood dripped down out of her fist.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "No. Please stay with me, Hana," I said, more pleadingly than I think she expected. I needed her close by to keep me on the right track if nothing else, and I regretted hurting her as much as I did before when I told her brother off. I needed her now more than ever.

 

How coincidental it was that a few days after her mother died far away my own mom was to perish in the same room I was in. Whatever Zataka was playing at, it was monumental and I sure did not like it. Please, Zuto Nui, restore order where there is none, I prayed. But no, it was my job, wasn't it? Ryuuko, indeed—the little dragon was growing bigger. And like the great creatures of the mountains I was going to be looked up to as an avatar of the pure goddess. The power of Order was mine to issue, and to do that I needed to be courageous and strong like Inokio said.

 

The master was never wrong in his lessons, and as I thought about Hana's question ("...who stands to gain the most from... from Yusanora's passing?") Inokio's lesson on looking at the big picture came up. I exhaled slowly as I pondered on the latest political machinations were.

 

Mom was a consolidator who was adored by her subjects, but more importantly she was a staunch traditionalist. "A liberal-minded toroshu, of course," I concluded, though Inokio didn't seem impressed.

 

"That can narrow the pool down to maybe a third of the nobility."

 

"True." Ughhh. This was always one of those things my sister did better than me. She was a wiz at this. She'd probably be spewing theories like a fountain by now. Think. "To state the obvious, maybe Nera and the Fursics? I mean, they hate us more than anyone."

 

"They're an obvious choice, though they're also covert. Assassination has never been their gameplan."

 

"That's not true," Hana interjected with her encyclopedic knowledge. "They tried assassination during the Second Uprising, but as a result the other toroshu distanced from them and they lost the war alone, then their Menti were enslaved. No, wait: They weren't alone. If I remember correctly, it was your clan that stayed with them to the end, Inokio."

 

He shook his head indignantly. "Clan Korae's captains worked for all sides in every war. I've always loyally served Clan Umbraline, so please, let's not be so paranoid that we forget we're friends here. Yumiwa, let's consider the ramifications of the fallout from the assassination."

 

"The aftermath? Well..." And it dawned on me. My mother's assassination was less about removing the old guard and more about installing an inexperienced ruler in her stead. Many things were boiling: The expedition, the investigation of Mata Nui, various clans poised for further greatness. Mom left me a solid rock to stand on indeed but that didn't mean it wasn't precariously perched on a cliff. If I couldn't remain calm and centered the whole thing could roll off and doom a legacy. Instinctively, I shot those thoughts to my friends via Willhammer and they both nodded in agreement.

 

"Yumiwa, I can't recommend you go to Mata Nui, not anymore. You must stay and maintain order and unite your power base."

 

I nodded. "My duty is now to the Realm. I agree with that advice; I should stay and rule. As much as I want to go, my empire needs its sovereign."

 

Whoa. Now I'm making decisions.

[25K Now!]

IC: Higashi

 

"Yare yare dawa."

 

Higashi decided that she would never ask for more excitement in her life again. The Hogo guard was standing at the large doors to the Hall, her eyes flicking from one guest to another. It looked like her Toroshu (looks like she's being smart for once) had successfully calmed down the once-crazed crowd.

 

"This ain't cash at all," she muttered.

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Hanako)

 

"You could still travel to Mata Nui milady. While we still have many allies, we'd be able to expand our horizons and gain more, stifling those who would try and oppose you back home. Your sister can serve the Realm in your stead until your return. You standing there are the forefront would be good for us, you know your sister Desdemona is cunning and focused, nothing would get past her while you're establishing new ties. Perhaps we might even be able to find those Chaotic Six with the help of them, as well as broker deals for resources. It's up to you Yumiwa." I didn't show it, I had merely spouted off knowledge about Korae, I wasn't trying to question his loyalty, but he seemed to take it as such, I took a note of that, but said nothing, didn't express it though.

[Mel]

IC:

 

[imperial Palace, Dragon Room]

 

Plangori Morie had seen a lot of shocking things. She had seen her father and then her consort, and several of her clanswomen fall to the gruesome diseases that the jungle sometimes heald. She had heard tales of the second rebellion from her grandmother, and the gruesome reality of war. She was used to being paranoid, after all, her clans secrets were precious and she shared an island with a clan that could cast their minds into the nearest animal.

 

But even Morie would have never expected an assault on the throne.

The Rora was a symbol of the power of Zuto Nui on the earth, and assassinating her was an an assault the virtues themselves. Morie had no delusions that there was a political agenda involved, but this was also a cruel insult to the foundation of their society.

 

Morie had not known the Rora well. She was very knowledgable about the other clans through her contact merchants, but isolated as she was from the court on Sado, the Royal Family themselves were a bit of a mystery aside from what could be gleaned from public knowledge. She did know enough about Yumiwa from Soraya’s letters to feel a small sense of kinship with the new Rora. She had been raised for her position, as Morie had been, but being trained was very different from being in that position. Her own mother had died of old age not ten years before, peacefully and in her sleep. For some reason, those of her clan who did not succumb to jungle disease lived unusually long.

 

The old torushu shook her head. I’m getting distracted in my old age, she thought. Unlike everyone else, she had not suddenly manifested her psionic power and set about trying to right the wrong. One might think that she was unnaturally still, but she simply experienced shock in a different. Morie was old, and she was tired and she had no urge to waste energy in displays. Displays would not bring the Rora back, nor catch her killer.

Morie quested out with her mind, seeking out one of her daughters.

 

:Go to the market district when this is over. Contact our dyers there and see if they’ve heard any gossip.:

 

She doubted there would be much. This plot had the color of a high status clan, but she did not want to leave any stone unturned.

 

She turned around just to see Soraya slap on of the guards.

 

:Plangori Soraya. After this is over you and I are going to have a talk.:

She doubted Noshima would care that much, but Soraya needed to know her place. She had been a bit too lenient with the dashi perhaps. Well, in any case she did not have time to dwell on it.

 

The old toroshu activated her Akaku for the second time that night, searching the paths down the balcony from which the Rora had been struck down. No one could leave, yes, but what if they had already left? She walked forward as see searched, using her peripheral vision to dodge other partygoers. It was wasn’t her job to supervise the search, as Noshima was, but she would do what she could. And they failed a small part of her whispered.

 

She quashed it.

 

***

 

Grief is a strange thing.

 

See the broken body of the Rora, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Princesses, but it was quickly followed by the knowledge that I would never love anyone enough to feel that way about them when they died. Stupid, isn’t it, wishing for pain? But pain was better than the horrible numbness of not mattering to anyone, and not caring about them.

 

So I latched onto that hate, for my mother and for the Princess and her blumbering.

 

At least it was something.

OOC: Both Morie and Shuuan are open for interaction.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

The Fursic was frozen in shock, repeating the same two syllables over and over. Honestly, couldn't blame her, but still--

 

"Amaki, Amaki!" I said, shaking her by the arm, trying to snap her out of this dream state of hers. More like nightmare state, actually. "Look at me, Amaki! You need to focus. This is a mess, this is a huge mess, but we need to focus right now before things get any worse."

 

Actually, what we needed was game plan, but nothing I was coming up seemed quite adequate for the situation at hand. Never planned for this sort of eventuality; frankly, never thought I'd be present at the Rora's assassination.

 

"C'mon," I added, a little more gently, trying to pull her away from the crowds, "let's find you a seat. Or drink. Or both, Goddess it."

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

"I ..."

 

Deep breaths. Amaki didn't want to understand the situation. But she did. And it hurt. It was a shock. It was just ...

 

"Why did this happen," she whimpered, even as she allowed herself to be dragged away.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"Not sure if you'd want to hear the answer to that," I said, leading Amaki over to one of the many abandoned seats in the room. Fortunately for me and my despairing companion, one of the servers had had the good sense to leave a tray of drinks on the table, from which I was able to snatch a flute of champagne.

 

"Here." I handed the drink to the Fursic. "I would've gone with something stronger, but I don't think the waitresses are in any mood to take orders right now...."

 

-Void

[They]

IC: Daikura Koga

 

The fireworks display cut short the need to answer Soraph's question. Instead, he answered by leading her toward the open windows, taking her hand in his until they were standing by one of the voluminous balconies attached to the Dragon Hall. The view was striking. Outside, the city of Sado stretched across the island in glittering crystal, every building reflecting the light from the fireworks bursting in the heavens above. At the height of the hall menti were but dark ants in the roads and canal bridges.

 

Each explosion was more grandiose than the last, and soon the scent of powder floated on the wind but still they flew skyward and brought merriment, until the screams erupted as the Rora bled her life onto the floor. Koga watched in shock as she fell, his first thought to protect Soraph from whatever may occur next. The crowds of nobles swam with insecurity, the hall was quickly closed by the guards, and Yumiwa was whisked away before Koga realized his place was by her side, protecting the crown princess as part of her new guard. He gave the departing princess a final glance, knowing full well who she would be next he saw her, what she would be, and then turned to look at Soraph.

 

:Did you see anything?:

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

"thanks"

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"No problem."

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

Amaki gulped down the drink. It just had to happen now, didn't it?

 

"I just ..." she said, finding her breath. "I just ... don't know."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Install my sister as regent?" I considered.

 

...

 

Inokio was still cursing himself for letting his cool be overcome for an instant. Hanako hadn't meant to be accusatory but he'd acted defensively—that was bound to be noticed. It was just another reminder that he wasn't made for politics. Still, he was the best man for the job and had served diligently thus far. There was no going back.

 

"Yumiwa, I can see this both ways," he voiced, resuming his pacing. "On one hand, the empress should be at court. As already said, you need to gather the toroshu under you. If you leave the Realm, even with your sister in charge for you, it will cause some unrest and some may even question your ability to rule. On the other hand... Mata Nui is a fruit everyone has their eyes on, either for want or distaste. You venturing forward to the uncertain land would be brave and knowledgeable of its affairs. When you return you would be at a prime position to dictate policy."

 

"Which option has a wider effect?" the empress asked.

 

"Hm." Inokio began to tap his fingertips as he always did when anxious. "Both have similar lengths, though... should you choose the latter, it would also put you in the company of toroshu who journey with you. You could not only hold knowledge when you return but put various nobles under your sway. Your realm of influence would be markedly raised."

 

"What do you think, Hanako?"

 

"I think you should travel to Mata Nui, either way the expedition needs to go through. A possible idea is sending an envoy in your place. As Inokio has said it would help your influence among the Toroshu if you were to go. Traveling to Mata Nui would do your Realm well."

 

The battlemaster froze his fingers and waited for the rora's decree with bated breath. As it had been for millennia, the future hung in the balance of a single woman's words.

 

...

 

I nodded. "I'll go as planned. Hana, I'll want to see my sister in the morning. For now, though, I think I need to, I don't know... rest, somehow. Sleep. Read a book. Something."

 

Posting my sister was a risky thing, but my mind was hard at work and the more I thought about it, the better off it would be.

 

Desde was the smartest and most cunning of us. If anyone could fill a decisive spot as regent, it was her. The nobles and whoever the ###### murdered my mom figured I'd be a pushover, inexperienced and flappable, but I would throw them a curveball they'd never expect. They wouldn't be dealing with pretty little Yumi, the spoiled bookworm shopaholic equestrian royal, they'd be contending with a force a' nature they hadn't witnessed before. Hana said my sissy has been watching my back all this while. Well, if she really still loves me, now's the time for the hurricane to rumble. And like me, Desde had no mercy for our enemies.

 

"Goodnight," I said as I wafted towards the bookcase-lined walls, grabbed a random book and curled up by a light.

Edited June 22, 2014 by EmpressYumiwa

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

I looked down at my fingers, wishing I had a smoke on me.

 

"Me neither."

 

-Void

[Toa Fanixe]

IC:

 

 

First there were fireworks.

 

Then there was death.

 

Then there was chaos.

 

Nobles were running all over the place, some to take cover and others to the aide of the Royal family. The thought that the Rora was dead - the Rora! - came as utter shock to the Vilda heiress. The woman had ruled the Empire since Soraph was born, and was the true Jewel of the Archipalego. The Vilda may have been bred for their beauty and other features, but the Rora had been reared to rule. Soraph was still reeling from the news when Koga spoke to her, the words sounding as if they come from another world.

 

Soraph stared Koga blankly, trying to decipher the distant syllables.

 

:No, I.... I didn't see anything:

 

She regained her composure.

 

:I'm sorry, but I must be going. I guess you'll just have to answer my question another time: Soraph told Koga, a suggestive smile on her face. Then the Vilda whisked herself away from the First Son, disappearing like a mist into the crowd of Toroshu and their guests.

 

She searched around, eventually finding her Datsue friend near the Commodore

 

:Mako: she Willhammered into his mind, :we should get going. The Hogo can take care of this miss. There'll be line to get out of here with everyone being searched, so if we want to get any sleep tonight, we should hurry out.: Soraph was still working on getting Mako an apartment of his own, but that was still a few days off (and since they would soon be leaving for Mata-Nui, it seemed like the Datuse would have little chance to use it) and in the meantime she was stilling letting him crash on her bed.

[Vezok's Friend]

IC (Aiywah):

 

She glanced at Tazera, shooting a quick :Not now, Lieutenant, please.: over the mental plain to her friend. Her comment had been a form of emotional release, but the commodore had locked her feelings on the matter behind a wall of focus. She would grieve later.

 

Then she looked back at the Datsue standing next to her. "A man in your position must have had training in more than one discipline. If you wish to help you can stay and assist in screening the guests who pass us once we start to let them leave."

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

It was a very old tradition to launch poem-boats after someone had died.

 

Although Nihi assumed that the higher castes expected much more elaborate and expensive funerary rites than the one she was about to perform, she was certain that she had to free the Rora's spirit from herself, even if it were via humble poem-boat, as quickly as possible. Hesitation was the greatest dishonor the dead could receive. If the Chojo's - now Empress’s; there was a strange thought - party last night had been indicative of the way the wealthy celebrated (celebrating life was, after all, not too different from celebrating death), then the Rora would likely not be freed from the souls of those supposedly closest to her until a suitable theme had been chosen for the event, or a new ice sculpture had been carved. Nihi was glad she had not received an invitation to the inevitable grand funeral ceremony, because it saved her from having to decline one.

 

She found the idea of the poem-boat to be much more satisfactory than any grand ceremony could have been. The poem-boat was a common, quiet, and respectful grief. It was simple; therefore pure. It was inexpensive; therefore within the means of even the lowliest Saihoko. It was a labor, albeit a small one; therefore meaningful. The act of the poem-boat – trawling the floor of one's heart for words, making the precise folds of the boat as perfectly as possible, and choosing the best spot to set it adrift at sea – held soft dignity that to Nihi better befit the memory of her former ruler than any conglomeration of two-faced nobles. She had never really known the Rora, so perhaps Nihi had misjudged her, but based on the minutes she'd spent in the Empress' presence – replayed frenetically again and again in Nihi's memory, always ending with a discrete impression of emptiness in the Rora's eyes, more terrifying even than the gaping maw that had become her chest – Nihi believed that the Rora would have appreciated her gesture.

 

Sitting on the low end of the pier, which overhung Sado's limited beach at about the height of a Dashi, Nihi was beginning the last fold of her poem-boat. First she lined the corner of the page up where it needed to go; then, with tremendous care, she flattened the arc of the paper until a clean line held the corner in its place. She took a moment to examine her handiwork and, satisfied by her crisp creation, set it carefully down on the pier so that she could hop off the boardwalk without risking crinkling it. Nihi's feet sunk a little into the sand when she landed, reminding her of the trek up the beach of Mata Nui. She would be headed back there soon, if the Choj- if the Rora kept her promise. If it wasn't for her accumulated exhaustion - in which her grief, disgust, fear, and cynicism were indistinguishable from bodily tiredness - Nihi would have anticipated her voyage on the Chiisai Ryuu with more exhilaration. It was, after all, what she'd wanted this whole time... wasn't it?

 

Nihi reached behind her and took her boat from the hard wooden surface of the dock. Bearing it gently in her cupped hands, she made her way along the short beachhead, the ocean breeze making the tail of her only white skirt snap at her side like a mourning flag. Nihi wasn't the only one on the beach this morning; news of the Rora's assassination had run with the speed of the wind around Sado, and a few others had also already built poem-boats to set adrift. By midday, the beach would doubtless be choked with Dasaka who sought to pay their respects, too; but for now, there were no more than a dozen others out in the grey morning air with her.

 

As she progressed down the beach, Nihi walked by many of them: a lithe, gorgeous Dasaka with an amethyst pendant around her neck knelt elegantly to set her boat into the water; a rough Saihoko fisherwoman blew lovingly on the sail of her boat to launch it; a familiar Datsue, trailed by two Dashi Shadows, waded with her back to Nihi solemnly into the ocean, holding her boat straight in front of her; a Menti warrior pressed her forehead into the wet sand as her written words drifted further to sea. When she drew closer, Nihi recognized this Menti: it was Saru, her companion from the first expedition to Mata Nui. Nihi did not want to break the spell of Saru’s prostration, and didn’t feel like saying hello anyway, so she continued without saying a word.

 

Arriving at an open stretch of beach, distantly between Saru and a frail-looking Dasaka with large eyes and dark armor who was fixatedly folding her own boat, Nihi approached the ocean and, keeping her boat elevated in one hand, lowered herself to a sitting position where the broken waves, edged with foam, lapped at her feet. She turned her poem-boat over in her fingers three times, and then placed it between her feet. The next dead wave that rolled up to her caught the boat, and tugged it away towards the horizon. Nihi watched her poem-boat bob over the peak of an oncoming swell, then meander further and further away from the Kentoku Archipelago.

 

Nihi was not a poet, but she’d written as eloquent a poem as she’d been able. It would be good enough.

[Geardirector]

IC:

 

:Mako: she Willhammered into his mind, :we should get going. The Hogo can take care of this miss. There'll be line to get out of here with everyone being searched, so if we want to get any sleep tonight, we should hurry out.:

 

 

IC (Aiywah):

 

"A man in your position must have had training in more than one discipline. If you wish to help you can stay and assist in screening the guests who pass us once we start to let them leave."

 

IC: Vilda Mako (Dragon Hall)

 

:You go ahead, Soraph,: came my staunch reply, with a distinct tone of finality to it :I'll stay behind and help out the Commodore:

 

It was like a lever had been pulled in my brain; gone were flowery language, old man's banter and self-ridicule, all that remained was the bare essentials, ingrained patterns of action and reaction that still had not loosened their grip on me.

 

"Yes, Commodore, I'll accept the offer"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"I didn't write anything new for her," the frail Dasaka said from behind Nihi, in a suitably weary voice. Her eyes were dark, had always been dark; now they were weighed down by inscrutable sadness and something more enigmatic, and there were circles underneath them. "I haven't had time, or energy. I haven't slept since she was last alive. I thought, perhaps...it was the first I ever wrote for her, but she never saw it. I was scared to show her. It was always Yumi's poetry she loved."

 

Nihi turned around politely and saw the frail young woman's lips twitch; her smile was pretty, but it had an air of discomfort. Her smiles did not come easy for her on the best of days, but with her boat meandering off the shore maybe she thought it was best to honor the Rora with at least the effort of a smile. The Dasaka fingered a small leather pouch at her neck and withdrew a crystal sphere, letting it roll around her palm. The weight of it almost made her hand shake. 

 

"I know who you are. I recognize you from the party," she told the Menti, looking up from her ball into Nihi's eyes. "You were very elegant, and you wore a very pretty dress. I want to tell you the same thing that I told the woman who made that dress: life in the new Rora's entourage will make you look glamorous, but it will leave you miserable. She is driven like few others, but Yumi will ask you to do things for her that will make you question everything about yourself, and she will do it in the name of Zuto Nui so you have no choice but to obey. When that time comes, try and go away inside. There are worse things you can be then locked up - politics have a way of keeping that in perspective. They change all of us, for better or for worse. They made Aya coarser, they made Rayuke more protective, and Yumi...Yumi never learned to like being disappointed." Her smile became rueful, but for the first time Desdemona Umbraline's face looked stronger for it. "No more than my mother did."

 

-Tyler

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

Nihi recognized the frail Dasaka, too, now that she got a look at her: this was the Dasaka that Soraya had been approaching at the party just before the former Rora had entered the Dragon Hall. The frail Dasaka's presence at the party, the way she repeatedly and familiarly named the new Rora of Kentoku, and her reference to her mother at a time like this all but confirmed to Nihi that she faced Yumiwa's princess sister. She hardly batted an eye at her realization; the proximity to royal blood no longer held any wonder for Nihi, and her opinion of the upper caste had drastically changed after the events of the party. But Desdemona was not just a member of the elite in this moment, for she had recently lost what may have been the dearest person in her life. Nihi could empathize with that pain better than most.

 

"I'm sure your mother wasn't disappointed in you," Nihi said. "And I'm sure she will love your poem."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Desdemona had been blessed - cursed, more aptly, for all the friends it had made her - with the composure and stolid nature that her fiery older sister had lacked, but it was hard for her face not to break when Nihi spoke. Her crystal ball rolled off her fingertips, into the waiting palm of her other hand, and she found herself tossing it back and forth softly, rhythmically. 

 

"Do you know where my name comes from?" she asked. "I didn't for a long time, until Mother let Yumi and I read to each other one day - Desdemona was a Valkyr in the stories, the most beautiful and strong and kind angel that had ever lived, and everyone she would touch was blessed with good fortune, completely purged of sin. It was one of Yumi's favorite fairy tales, once. Yumi...Mother says that hearing the news she was going to have a sister made her happier than she'd ever been before. She said that she cried herself to sleep when she found out I couldn't be here right away. It was the only time in her life I think she was ever actually anxious to see me. So she bided her time until the day I was born. Mother was...not as strong as she'd been when Yumi came, and the effort it took for me to live had exhausted her. They were worried that she would die, but nothing would do until she'd held me in her arms and named me. I was only a few minutes old, but Rayuke says that I looked in my mother's eyes and they all heard that magic name. Desdemona. Then Mother fell asleep, and didn't wake up for four months. They were all sure that she was going to die.

 

"Yumi was inconsolable. She had waited for the better part of a year expecting another version of her, and instead I was weak, always sick, and I was accidentally breaching the minds of everyone around me. Maybe you feel it now? A little tug in the edge of your vision, making you think that you saw something you really didn't, or saw something again that you just saw a minute ago? That's my trigger, and it's been on at some level since the day I told my mother my name. All through the streets of Sado while she was asleep, all the merchants and Menti were saying was that if the Rora was the vessel of Zuto Nui, then surely my mother must have done something to anger our goddess to deliver such a psionic timebomb into the world. My name was Desdemona, the courtiers would whisper, but it was the demon part that mattered to them, not the angel.

 

"Of course, I never knew all this. Yumi told me years later, when she first read me the fable about the Valkyr. I loved it. I thought it was the coolest story I'd ever heard, that someone named Desdemona could fly and taste the air and be free in all the ways that I could only dream of from my tower, and I asked my big sister to read it for me again. No, she told me, with that tone of voice she gets when she's fired up about something. Never again. You nearly killed my mom, and she forgave you. Well, I didn't. One day I'll be Rora and I'll lock you in a tower, and no one will ever ever ever see you again and you'll never hear about the Valkyr again. That was my favorite story once, but you had to go and ruin it. That's the story of Yumi and I, I'm afraid - I ruined my sister's fairy tale."

 

When she had finished her story, her voice had petered out to a near whisper, and the waves listened in rapture. Her old poem-boat tossed about in the current, fragile and struggling.

 

"It's not a very pleasant story, I'm afraid. No doubt it's not one you sought out when you came here this morning. My apologies."

 

-Tyler

Edited June 22, 2014 by Plank Sinatra

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

Anger.

 

Some beings, like the blue one of the chaotic six, were just angry, all the time and with no rhyme or reason. Some beings were just disposed towards foulness.

 

Then there was Herupa Jiyu, whose anger was driven into him by a lifetime of pain and disappointment. A being with truly nothing left to lose now.

 

After all, what had he ever had? Locked away from the rest of existance... Bound jiyu. Bound freedom. His entire life, he had devoted himself to revenge. Revenge against his mother and aunt. And then... What? Deep down, Jiyu had nothing else to live for.

 

Or so he thought. However, Rano was right. Within his heart of hearts, Jiyu had only wanted to be Toroshu to prove women wrong.

 

But, he had no desire, no goal. He just felt the anger. The anger to bring ruin on all that displeased him... And Jiyu knew there was more to life than that. His clan, a family that he hadnt truly cared for, placed pride in their unwavering loyalty to their masters.

 

But Jiyu had no masters. No one he could reach out and assure himself that they were safe. Hanako already had the ch- Rora. Rano... Jiyu knew she was a friend, and she had grown on him but... She was always distant... Seigyo may be his twin sister, but he only knew her as much as Hanako. And that was... Very little.

 

As he walked, Jiyu felt something else. Something that wasn't the anger. It was regret. The regret that he wasn't the same as his sisters. How much nicer his existance would've been...

 

And so he kept walking. And realizing that he just wanted something, a purpose to call his and his alone.

 

And wishing that he wasn't himself.

 

Ooc: herupa jiyu open to do stuff.

[Constructelf]

IC: Seiryu

"I have had enough of the outside."

 

Seiryu's office and lodgings were dark and confining by choice. It was a single square room, three bio (around 13.5 feet) long and wide, with wooden walls, floors, and ceilings reminiscent of a prison. A small window allowed light in during the day; at night, wax candles provided the only light source. A wooden desk covered in stone tablets and bamboo scrolls rested in one corner of the room. An inkstone and several inksticks lay neatly organized on the desk, but the brushes were scattered. An abacus lay crooked on the wooden desk, teetering precariously over the side while resting on a partially unrolled scroll. A door that appeared similar to those used for small pets was built into the door, where food would be sent in and finished paperwork would be sent out. A futon stuffed with cattails served as his bed, complete with a porcelain pillow to rest his head on. Karen had once used this room as her personal office; as the narrow layout of the room provided Minami some accessibility issues, Seiryu had chosen to make his workspace here. It was a room similar to (but ever so slightly more luxurious) than the dwellings of the average Ringti or Saihoko.

 

Indeed, Seiryu did live like a Saihoko. He would often spend weeks inside this chamber, ratifying documents, proofreading reports, drawing up financial statements; basically the boring, menial, day-to-day work that the Toroshu or the Chancellors couldn't be bothered with. What excursions to the outside he did make were either to restock on supplies or to visit what remained of the labs in order to perform some experiments of his own. Some nobles might scoff or sneer at his daily routine; Seiryu held no ill will against them, fully aware that they were the norm and that he was the exception. It was simply what he was used to; who else would do it? It was the responsibility of the menti to provide for their people in military and administrative matters, and if that meant cleaning up after their own mess, so be it. Not that it really mattered; Amakusa was in its death throes, and Matou and Sai put together would not even provide a thousand people. But he still did it anyways; he was no stranger to white-collar work. After all, idle hands were Zataka's workshop.

 

Seiryu applied a salve to his head (for sunburns) before redonning his Kanohi and pulling his hood over his face. He sat down in his chair, picked up his brush, and returned to his self-chosen prison...

 

OOC: THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS; WILL FINISH LATER

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

"I don't even know anymore."

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"In my experience ... it's best not to think about it too much...."

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

"and i thought today was going to be good"

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

"It's alright," Nihi assured, and she meant it, but probably not in the way Desdemona interpreted. "I never expect pleasant stories anymore; true stories are the most valuable kind I can ask for, these days."

 

Though she wasn't awed by the princess herself, Nihi was a bit amazed and bemused as to why anyone - let alone a royal Umbraline - would reveal her troubled past so readily to someone else - let alone a mere Menti warrior - on a first encounter. It puzzled Nihi, but maybe that was because her strategy had lately been to keep her own pain within herself, where she could bottle it and it couldn't hurt people. Even her friends (did she have any? Saru might have counted, and yet Nihi hadn't felt compelled to say hello just a minute before) weren't privy to Nihi's feelings; indeed, Nihi herself was hardly privy to Nihi's feelings, so deeply were they buried within her chest. Nothing could really stir her anymore, not since Nachi - the real Nachi, Nihi had come to realize, because the husk of her sister that she visited these days was just a shadow puppet that Nihi played with to stir her fermenting pot of memories - had been seized from her. Nihi accepted the realization of her own emotional numbness - and, to top that off, the realization of the futility of her relationship with her sister's empty body - without stinging pain; these were merely new layers to the ache that sought to pulverize her bones.

 

Desdemona's pain wasn't another degree of soreness, though; if anything, it lightened Nihi's load. Just like Nihi, Desdemona had lost her true sister; but in Desdemona's case, that sister had been lost before she could remember. While the Chaotic Six had robbed Nihi of her very tangible relationship with Nachi, now-Rora Yumiwa's lifelong frigidity stole from Desdemona a lifetime of potential love. Nihi and Nachi had shared countless laughs; Desdemona and Yumiwa had probably had few enough to count on one hand. Nihi's heart cracked like a vase; in breaking ever so slightly, some of its oil was able to leak forth.

 

"My sister and I shared a deep love," Nihi said. "So deep that she and I were preparing to become Twin Souls. We didn't tell many people about that, it was a silly idea to try so late... She isn't dead, but she's gone from my world. Your sister has been gone for as long as you've known her, and now your mother is gone too; you're really alone, like I am. Having been here a while, I can tell you that it isn't as bad as you might think it is."

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"Well." I smiled a bitter, rueful smile. "Can't get much worse than this, can it? At least tomorrow'll be better...."

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

"maybe ..."

[Mel]

[sado, Southeast Beach]

Hatchi had no poems.

The taajar stood at the the place where the sand met the sea.  The rosary she held was common glass, as those her clan made, but it was deep purple, close enough to the royal color.  Had Hatchi been an Imperial, she might be mourning the death of a living symbol of Zuto Nui, but Hatchi was Taajar.

Hatchi did not believe in Zuto Nui.

Hatchi allowed zirself that luxury in the early morning, when the sun had not yet decided to break the clouds.  Zi placed the rosary on the sand, where the sea crept up to meet it.  Once, long ago, there might have been a simple prayer.  Not for a death of a rora, not even for some great jahagir.  I simple prayer for a mother to daughters.  For someone you did not know.

Taajar had no prayers anymore, not of their own.
 

There was only those three things, at zir feet and in the scape of zir mind.  The sea, the sand, and a rosary.

Hatchi first faced a zrupgar when zi could barely hold a katar.  His name was Aykar, and he was a respected male who had fathered many of zir clan sisters.  Hatchi did not know zir own father, but zi liked to think of Aykar that way.

His willhammer ability had manifested itself as a sea of grass, and Hatchi had been overwhelmed quickly.  The sea and the sand had quickly disappeared into the endless horizon of waving stalks, the beads of the rosary scattered, and Hatchi had stood there helpless, her (for zi had no word yet for what zi was) body not her own.  She was afraid.
 

“You mind is new, but still interesting.  Try again.”

And he let her go.  His eyes were soft.

How can you hope to fight someone with vastly more ability and experience than yourself?

But Hatchi tried again.  And again, until days turned into months and her frustration bubbled barely beneath the surface.  Soon, she was able to hold Aykar back for minutes at a time.  But koshi zrupgar were not meant to simply hold back their counterparts.  They were meant to defeat them.

How do you defeat those with power you do not have?
 

It takes decades, Aykar said.  But Hatchi did not have decades before the mad ox and the pain found zir.  And she had sat, helpless again, as the elders declared that she was no longer fit to train.  Better a caravan.  It would be easier for a cripple to manage.
 

And Hatchi had challenged Aykar for last time that day.  They stood facing each other.

How do you fight a zrupgar?

Hatchi understood.  

You don’t.
 

You let them in.

Willhammering is about completely subsuming the thoughts of another person.  So resisting it is being so heavy with being that you cannot be moved.  And you cannot do this if you waste time keeping them out of every single thought.  It is never a block, but a redirection.  You must let them in.

You let them into yourself, you let them in and you swallow the grass and tell them the truth.  It is so hard, when you are used to pushing, to suddenly pull, and that is why that realization takes decades.  Hatchi had enough pain for decades, enough disappointment.

You let them in.  You let them in and you let them drown yourself in you.  For you are as strong as any sighteye in your own mind, and the best lies are made out of truths.  And truths themselves have even more power than lies, for Hatchi understood in that moment something about Aykar.  For all the deference he was given, he had never warred against others, never feared death, never known mad eyes and the sense somewhere that you are broken, broken and irreparable.  Never known the feeling of your bones sudden open and bare and splintering in you.
 

Hatchi knew all of those things, and she shared them.

And zi saw Aykar, the strongest man zi thought zi knew, barely able to stand, his eyes suddenly wide with pain.

But Hatchi was used to pain, used to it enough to limp up to him and press a crystal katar to his throat.

“Yield.”

“I yield, koshi zrupgar.”

His voice was barely a whisper, and there was pride in his eyes, but also a spark of shame.

And Hatchi had known then what the elders said did not matter.

I ray of sun finally spilled over the morning fog. There was someone powerful much further up the beach, like a distant hurricane.  Not being a Dasaka, she could sense nothing but a vague direction, and great power.  She shifted her mind’s eye, allowing the wind to pick up, the waves to wash with more ferocity, letting her impressions of the sea and sky casually slip out.  She should go back, soon to the caravan.  But it was early and the sea breeze felt pleasant on her neck.  She patted Myzru’s neck, staring at the grey horizon.  An Imperial might compose a poem.

 

But Hatchi had no poems.

Edited June 26, 2014 by Yukiko

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

I was too tired to argue logic with her, so I just asked, "You have any smokes on you?"

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

"No."

[NorikSigma]

IC: Akone

It all happened so fast. The Rora...

Oh no nononono...

 

The Chōjo's scream cleared Akone's mind as the order for a lock-down was given. She hurriedly tossed aside the annoying feather-mask-thing covering her face and made her way to the exit to stand guard.

 

Noticing Noshima's composed and controlled manner, Akone forced down her mounting panic and followed suit.

[25K Now!]

IC: Higashi

 

"Exciting day, right Akone?" said Higashi from nearby, the other Hogo quite casual in her words even as her eyes flickered from guest to guest.

[NorikSigma]

IC: Akone

"W-well, it is. But not in a good way," she said, as she joined the guards attempting to block off the entrance.

 

"And why aren't you doing your job? Unless that's annoying me, as usual."

[25K Now!]

IC: Higashi

 

"I'm doing what's required," replied the Hogo. "Just feel like talking. Takes my mind off all this ."

[NorikSigma]

IC: Akone

Looks like we all need a little bit of that.

 

Outwardly, Akone asked, "So why didn't I see you previously, when the party was not so... Rora-less?"