modormenace (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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f20202020-09-07 12:14 am
modormenace) wrote in f20202020-09-07 12:14 am
Entry tags:
- -log,
- adam parris ⧓ olin vale,
- allison hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- anathema device ⧓ olin vale,
- askeladd ⧒ eden,
- azure ⧓ seekers of the new dawn,
- beckett mariner ⧓ twin cities,
- caspar von bergliez ⧓ eden,
- cecelia ardenbury ⧓ olin vale,
- count dooku ⧓ the white tower,
- dabi ⋈ twin cities,
- darin altway ⧓ empire of light,
- darth jadus ⧓ empire of light,
- david alleyne ⧓ krakoa,
- edelgard ⧓ eden,
- emet-selch ⧒ northwestern imperium,
- felicity smoak ⧒ equality before law,
- finn onaru ⧒ the white tower,
- fuu hououji ⧓ eden,
- gladion ⧒ krakoa,
- harrowhark nonagesimus ⋈ sanctum aurorae,
- himiko toga ⋈ twin cities,
- jane foster ⧒ krakoa,
- jane porter ⧓ krakoa,
- jin bubaigawara ⧒ twin cities,
- joseph kavinsky ⧓ the white tower,
- josh foley ⧓ krakoa,
- judd lauren ⧓ krakoa,
- katie 'pidge' holt ⧒ empire of light,
- katsuki bakugou ⧒ equality before law,
- klaus hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- lan jingyi ⧓ house of m,
- lan sizhui ⋈ seekers of the new dawn,
- lan wangji ⧒ seekers of the new dawn,
- lan xichen ⧒ seekers of the new dawn,
- laurie collins ⧓ krakoa,
- lillie ⧓ krakoa,
- luke fon fabre ⋈ olin vale,
- luther hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- midnighter ⧒ the white tower,
- number five hargreeves ⧓ krakoa,
- okami amaterasu ⋈ twin cities,
- rey ⧓ the white tower,
- ronan lynch ⧓ sanctum aurorae,
- rude ⧒ olin vale,
- ruka ⧒ the white tower,
- ryuko matoi ⧓ the white tower,
- sal the cacophony ⧓ olin vale,
- stephen strange ⧓ the white tower,
- sypha belnades ⧓ seekers of the new dawn,
- thor odinson ⧓ krakoa,
- tina belcher ⋈ green piece,
- tomura shigaraki ⧓ equality before law,
- tony stark ⧓ the white tower,
- toshinori yagi ⋈ twin cities,
- uta ⧒ krakoa,
- wanda maximoff ⧓ house of m,
- wei wuxian ⧓ house of m,
- wen ning ⋈ house of m,
- xue yang ⧓ sanctum aurorae,
- yenh quryoja ⧓ seekers of the new dawn,
- ◆ eden,
- ◆ empire of light,
- ◆ equality before law,
- ◆ green piece,
- ◆ house of m,
- ◆ krakoa,
- ◆ luminary,
- ◆ mad burnish,
- ◆ northwestern imperium,
- ◆ olin vale,
- ◆ sanctum aurorae,
- ◆ seekers of the new dawn,
- ◆ the twin cities,
- ◆ the white tower,
- ◇ porter building
THE FRACTURED WORLD: ARRIVAL
A
rrival for some goes all but unnoticed. It's a sudden shiver, the sensation of being watched... and then nothing at all. Life continues serenely as it always has. The only indication of any change comes with sleep, wrapped in dreams: vague and distant echo imagery of another life, melting away in the morning.F
or others, arrival is a sharp jolt. In the space of a single blink, they find themselves in an unfamiliar world, surrounded by the trappings of a life they have not lived. They are replacements, spirits taking possession of bodies belonging to people very much like themselves...A
nd for the rest, arrival is a procedure. Routine. Those ported in to the Fractured World wake hazily in the comfortably dim light of the Porter room, laid out on an exam table. Their wounds, if they remember having any, have been healed— and even those who remember their own deaths find themselves miraculously restored. As they regain consciousness, an automatic audio-visual presentation is triggered. Regardless of their backgrounds or physiology, all imPorts 'see' and 'hear' this message as if in their own language:
"Greetings, imPort."
The voice is calm and gently authoritative, almost certainly selected by committee.
"On behalf of the Synod and all imPorts it represents, we welcome you to the planet Earth."
A decidedly non-humanoid robotic arm holds out a palm-sized device and rather insistently demands the new arrival take it. This is the imPort's comm, used for accessing the Porter's database of information, as well as the communications Network— though it won't receive communications from outside the Porter building until carried through one of the many Gates set up in a long, crescent-shaped array on the far side of the room.
As each Gate is approached, information about the faction it leads to flashes up on the comm device's screen. Which will you choose?
no subject
Immortality.
To be worth the price that was paid for me.
For her eyes to open for me and me alone.
She shakes her head as though to clear it, gazing at something that isn't quite there, eyes narrowing as though she could find the trick. Of course the answer isn't simple, but neither is she willing to offer up her deepest desire when it's also her greatest weakness.
"-- The final lyctoral theorem. That's what I want. If you don't have it then I want time and resources to work it out on my own."
She doesn't know what he'll ask of her in return, but she doesn't care. There's little enough she wouldn't trade for the knowledge she seeks.
no subject
"What do you need it for?"
Hopefully she didn't imagine this would be quick and easy. The Greywaren has enough time as he pleases to chip away at her. The others can wait.
no subject
She takes a deep breath and toys idly with one of her bone bracelets, her only concession to slight mental discomfort of skirting this close to the truth of her House.
"I am the last scion of the Ninth House and we are dying. We've been slowly dying for centuries now; longer. With Lyctorhood comes the power of resurrection, not for a mere heap of bones but for an entire planet. If I am ever to return home, it must be with the knowledge of how to attain that power."
no subject
It's not uncommon, this confusion among newcomers that their situation is somehow temporary. ImPorts often disappear, and sometimes they even return with new memories, but as far as anyone has ever been able to determine, there's no evidence that they go home.
If going home was even a remote possibility, the Greywaren wouldn't be here.
"You're in the Sanctum now. The Ninth House is irrelevant. So, with that in mind, do you still care about the power of resurrection? If there's no one here for you to resurrect? If the only reason to have that knowledge is to satisfy your own curiosity?"
no subject
Something inside her rages at a stranger speaking what many back in her own universe would've claimed as a given. The Ninth had always been expected to serve a purpose and quietly die; that they hadn't was a testament to the sheer stubbornness that keeps her standing here facing down this world's apparent god and only showing a fraction of the despair his declaration has awakened.
"If I don't return home then my curiosity is all I have. I've come this far. I will see my purpose through even if it's all for nothing as you claim."
She won't be the faithless one. She won't set her life's work aside merely because she's been told it's impossible.
no subject
A vital distinction.
"You exist. Here and now. And here I am, to give you whatever you desire. Not to fulfill an oath you swore to someone else. Stay in the Sanctum and live out your dreams - or leave and take only what you brought with you."
no subject
She's not sure what the official hierarchy is around here and she's not sure it matters; she can no more truly abandon her vows than she can abandon herself, but surely the Necrolord Prime would understand that desperate circumstances call for desperate measures. She's only ever had one dream
(and it's an impossibility; a dead girl locked away on a dead planet, one who, if awakened, would be a bigger betrayal to her God than anything she promises here)
and it's this: to learn all there is to know -- about necromancy, for certain -- but with the immortality that Lyctorhood would eventually grant her, she would have the time to learn so many more things. If this Graywaren can grant her the space to study, she can do the rest herself. She only needs to know what she'll be agreeing to give of herself.
no subject
It can be difficult to comprehend, he knows. The greater part of his duty here isn't to dream for them, but to awaken them. These lost souls. No one ever wants what they think they want.
"There's nothing we can do for you here if half of you is still stuck in the life you left behind. You have to want to be here, to look inside yourself and decide for your own sake. Once you can do that, you can have anything."
Does she get it yet?
"Once you can do that, you'll never want to leave."
no subject
I see you. Exactly as you are.
She doubts anyone truly capable of that; she'd never allow it, for starters. But it's a tempting dream, to be seen and welcomed. But she can't help but feel that she's already somehow falling short simply by not wanting the right things. How to make the Graywaren understand?
"The life I left behind is all I've ever known, and I learned the danger of wanting things at a very young age. I wouldn't know how to begin."
She wants to stay here; it's vastly preferable to some of the bright and shining horrors elsewhere. The idea of trying to find her way in one of the other factions is distasteful to the point that she almost invents something to want on the spot. Instead she banks on the thing she knows, and what she knows is that she's a damn good necromancer.
"I don't want to leave. I can be useful to you."
no subject
The Greywaren can feel it, that quiet panic. As if there's a wrong answer. He shifts his posture, resting his weight back on his hands to get comfortable. It's a more casual stance. Inviting, if a creature that looks like this can be inviting at all.
"I know what you're talking about. The danger of wanting things." He knows it more intimately than she can imagine. "But it's not a danger for you anymore. Now, if you want something, all you have to do is ask me for it."
Unbelievable, yes. Too good to be true. But she'll learn soon enough that the Greywaren never tells a lie.
"Your new life is something you can build with me."
no subject
Harrow thought she'd known all the dangers she might face along her path, but this wouldn't be the first time she'd been horribly, grievously wrong. She'd never envisioned being pulled out of her world alone -- so help her, she once again found herself missing Gideon Nav, though what passed for concern soon flickered out of existence again with the realization that her cavalier would be worlds better off without her. She'd have her coveted freedom. The Ninth would die, but Harrow's life had always been a last hail-Mary for a House that had been expected to die thousands of years ago. If there was anything more to be made of it, she didn't know what it was, but she wasn't about to turn down the chance to find out.
"I'm the best necromancer in generations of my House. The price it paid for me was too great for me to cast my gifts aside. Any life I would build for myself alone would be hollow. If you don't have a use for me yet... then let me find one."
Surely a place like this could use a necromancer whether they realized it or not. She's not sure how anywhere manages without a good number of bone servants.
no subject
He can sympathize with the need to serve a master. He was nothing, too, without a strong hand to guide him.
"Now tell me what I can do for you."
no subject
"I just want a place to stay and practice my craft. Access to whatever dead are not otherwise spoken for. And..."
She hesitates, worrying at her thumb's distal phalange in a way that wouldn't have been healthy for anyone not capable of making it more or less flexible as she pleased. She feels as though this is a betrayal that she might die for, but if her God ever shows up everyone else here is going to die first. So.
"... freedom to practice the traditions of my faith as I am accustomed. Fealty isn't an issue; you can have it until such time as my God shows up and obliterates me for my betrayal. But I was raised within a strict tradition and it's of no consequence of anyone besides myself here; I've no need to convert anybody."
Translation: let her be creepy and walk around with skulls painted on her face, pray to dead women, and click her bone rosaries til the cows come home.
no subject
"If your traditions comfort you, I'm not interested in changing them," he says. "And tomorrow you'll have a home and a place to do your work, with all the corpses you'll need to begin. You can have everything as long as you remember that even if your god ever does show his face in this world, your life belongs to me."
no subject
She casts her eyes down as though in submission, though it's exceedingly difficult for her not to outwardly bristle at what she reads as slight condescension.
She has one loyalty above all else in her heart of hearts, and it's to someone who isn't even alive, much less here. If she were here it means the end of her House, the end of her God, the end of Harrow. But she can never be here so long as the only living person who can open her tomb is currently swearing herself to whatever a Greywaren is. She's still not super clear on that. Whatever.
"How should I address you, formally speaking?"
The other one was the Supreme Leader; not nearly an unwieldy enough title for a proper head of anything. She's hoping this one has something a little more impressive.
no subject
"Don't you like my name?"
Now he sounds amused.
no subject
"It's neither name nor title I've heard before; I assume you prefer your subjects to observe correct protocol when addressing you."
This Harrowhark hasn't yet met her own God, so there are still a bunch of ways her brain has yet to explode from the indignity of improper forms of address toward one's superiors.
no subject
And he doesn't blame her. Anyone walking into the Sanctum for the first time would have a similar read on the situation, assuming the disciples' devotion to the Greywaren is a mandatory protocol and not the result of genuine love.
"You're not my subject. I'm the one who exists to serve you."
no subject
"So it's the other one, then, I'm to answer to. The Supreme Leader?"
If she doesn't get to summon a bone army for someone, it's gonna get real weird up in the head of Harrowhark Nonagesimus.
no subject
She's so hopelessly mired in hierarchy and tradition, after all.
no subject
His words had sparked something in her, and there was something about his presence that resonated enough for her to feel tentatively comfortable choosing this faction over the others. But the actual power structure here was clearly ill-defined enough that Harrow briefly wonders if this is, once again, some sort of test devised between the two of them.
Harrow can work with being found interesting, if that interest is enough for someone here to decide what she's meant to do.
"I don't require orders, but I do find it helpful to know what's expected of me."