The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

[diversionist]

I'm sure.

[ moving right along past the question of his nonexistent goodness!!! his tone is brisk, but certain; the sense of him is honest. this is no spur of the moment decision. he's had all of pelu to think about the factions, to consider which one seemed most aligned with his goals and values, to consider which brings him the most benefit. zenith has drawn him in from the start. its power in his blood sings to him with possibility. meridian has its draw, but it's zenith that he's considered all this time, has agreed with jyn seems like the best option.

and so, now is as good a time as any to harmonize.

he reaches into his coat, draws forth a shard of glass he'd retrieved from springstar earlier. it's a poor weapon, but no worse than any other in the abandoned cities. and it's sharp enough for him to prick his finger upon, then offer his hand for the sap to drip onto quetz's shard. once that's done, he's willing to offer glass shard (if needed) and his hand with the bluish white crystal embedded, for quetz to do the same. ]

[muchalucha]

[ His certainty makes her a little sad, and open as she is with her emotions normally, that’s not something she could likely hide in the shared empathy if she tried. It’s a gentle sadness, a kind tinged with care and warmth, because it’s how she feels with all of the Zenites she’s met, but maybe moreso for someone who she’s only seen and heard given care to others.

It’s not that she doesn’t understand the allure of Zenith and what it offers. It’s really not hard to. But it’s still forsaking something precious, the way she sees it.

Quietly, she holds out her Shard to accept his blood for the ritual. Right away, she feels the familiar warmth of Meridian move through her, since she’s inherently more sensitive to it as someone who’s closer to a spirit than a mortal body. It’s a balm to that dark and cold Zenith that are so antithetical to a god of the sun and wind, so gratefulness comes with that feeling too. Rather than accept the glass, she just brings her hand up towards her mouth to bite sharp, shark-like teeth into her thumb. Just as effective, if a little macabre, but. ]

Can I ask you, then?

[ She starts to ask as she pulls her hand away from her mouth, but the question is clearly only for her curiosity, because she doesn’t hesitate to bring her hand to his Shard too. As she drips her blood into his Shard, she continues to talk. ]

The place you came from… Is it a bad place? Somewhere you don’t want to go back to?

[diversionist]

[ the glass, unneeded (have her teeth always been that sharp?), is returned to the pockets of his coat. and once his blood-sap has dripped onto her shard, he turns his hand so it's easier for her to spill hers onto his shard.

in this heightened communion, there's no hiding the spike of irritation he feels at her question. sharp-edged as it is, isn't really directed at her; and she can probably sense that, too. or, rather, it's not directed only at her. she's one of several to hit this nerve. ]

You Meridian, [ he says, giving his head a shake, as her blood drips onto his shard, ] all assume that everyone has something to return to.

[ lives. homes. families. it infuriates him every time another bearer — meridian, always meridian — ask him about going home, assume he wants to go home, wonder about the loved ones at home he must want to see again, as if any of them are alive. cassian is normally in control of his emotions, but here with communion blurring the lines between their minds, with the powerful connection that they forge between the two of them, the depth of his anger is clear.

not just at thoughtless questions he's been asked here. not even primarily at those. quetzalcoatl can see his reasons for certainty laid bare: can see a galaxy throttled in the grip of an empire, can see imperial officers' total control over the governments, airspace, holonet, news; can see star destroyers whose shadows blot out the sun over planets, dwarf entire metropolises; can see white- and black-armored troopers swarm like ants over planets, over settlements, quelling the softest breath of insurrection in their wake, crushing cultures, crushing populations.

an old woman's voice, the empire is a disease that thrives in darkness. and, it's easy for the dead to tell you to fight, and maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless.

cassian's own voice: kill me, or take me in. and living as one with nothing but the cause, with no ambitions but the cause, with no reason to live but the cause: be given orders, execute orders, return for more, keep going. keep going, because the empire is unfathomably powerful and they are not; because they are always short-handed and the empire is not; because he cannot live with himself doing anything less, because he hates the empire with all his soul, even as he takes his own soul in both hands and shatters it, because —

meridian would see his galaxy restored, would see the empire restored, would change nothing even as its horrors consume countless planets. because zenith would let him change that, would bring hope where there is none, meaning where there is only tragedy. and so it's with perfect willingness, that he sees meridian's warmth drain out of him, that he takes the dark cool moonlight from her. ]

[muchalucha]

[ Her smile softens in apology at the spike of irritation, but it’s not a total surprise. It’s not specific to Cassian himself, but she thinks that it’s probably how most people inclined to Zenith must think reflexively, and especially so with his terse explanation. If you don’t have anything worth going back to, then of course it would be insulting.

Even with his answer, she doesn’t hesitate to bring her hand over his Shard as well to allow the gentle drip of her blood onto his Shard. It’s a slightly different sensation with her blood, even with her ability stripped away. With it comes a sense of better health and vitality, though it won’t last down here as long as it might normally. She’s a god of Creation who had made humanity with her blood, after all.

But as she gives her blood and feels the relief of sunlight flooding back to her, she “listens”. The visions and memories come to her, and she sees his reasons. It’s a world beyond even her divine imagining, a world that returns to the stars that she’d come from. Part of her is a bit thrilled for that because it’s an incredible feat! But— No matter how they seize and shape teotl, people would always be imperfect. They would always been drawn to the worst tlatlacolli, the failings that make the world that Cassian unintentionally shares. ]

Mm, I’m trying not to, at least.

[ Cassian isn’t the first Zenite (or, Zenite to be, in his case) that she’s talked to that scorns their world completely. She and Silco had talked about it a fair bit at this point, after all. However, what she sees and feels from Cassian is different. Silco clearly loved his world, or at least a part of it. There were parts that he despised, and maybe that was even most of it, but he would still be destroying something he cared for in the process.

Cassian, though… That isn’t the sense she gets at all.

It’s sad, of course. But there’s an old, complicated sort of nostalgia that comes through as well. It’s nothing so grand as the world that Cassian shares, just a brief sort of vision of Quetzalcoatl standing at the top of a pyramid that would surely seem more than ancient to him. Power thrums through her veins, hot as the sun, because she was the sun, and as she looks down at the ancient city below, it’s just a simple question on her mind—Is this worth saving?

She laughs a little, realizing that he’d surely feel that memory too, just as she had felt his. She draws her hand back to rub her thumb against her poncho to clean off some of the blood-sap, but she looks at him as she talks. ]

I do understand it. [ As is probably obvious now, but. ] It’s not my domain, obviously, so I can’t take any credit for making or unmaking it! But still… I’m sorry that your world wasn’t kind to you.

[diversionist]

[ this event is really just cassian, against his will, accepting the divinity of quetz and set.

which is to say: her blood does make him feel a little healthier, more alert, less haggard. with this as his first trade, he won't know until later how specific this effect is to her; but he can guess, even now. and through their connection, through the communion, he can feel the sincerity of her feelings — her awe, her excitement, her sadness. her power, in the memory of her own: ancient structures and ancient lands, shining over them and the people living there, seeing their lives and choosing to save them, the bad and good.

he breathes out as both sets of memories fade, drops his hand back to his side. ]

It wasn't kind, [ with a slight shrug, ] to most people.

[ and therein lies the problem. it wasn't the ruination of his life, alone, that made him a rebel. and cassian rarely feels a need to explain himself, but he finds himself adding, after a moment, ]

Meridian are not my enemy.

[ maybe it's because of the circumstances of the last time they spoke. but quetzalcoatl can feel the truth of this in their connection. if it weren't choose or die, if it didn't mean taking on the zenith energies plaguing her and other meris he's come to know — he would've gone on, even now, remaining unharmonized. zenith is his best choice, not his favored choice. ]

[muchalucha]

[ truly sorry for dragging mr. andor into anime, ]

[ Before he adds on the note, Quetzalcoatl is already reaching out to gently take his hand, or if he flinched away, just an equally gentle touch to reach out. She’s physical with her emotions and affections, and it’s clear how openly she wears her heart.

(This may be something Cassian regrets the longer he’s in Communion with her, but hey.)

Regardless, the clarification just solidifies that touch, whether it’s a squeeze of his hand or otherwise. ]

Mm, and Zenites are—

[ She pauses, not quite hesitating, but she’s uncertain of how to phrase it to carry her intent best. ]

Well, enemy isn’t the right word for it at all, no. I have to fight for my world. It’s my duty. But I won’t ever hate a Zenite. Even señor Silco. [ She says his name with a laugh, but it’s clear that she completely means that. ] I want to fight to bring back the worlds that people love. And if that’s not where you came from, then maybe there’s somewhere new out there instead?

CHRISTY THAT IMAGE HELP

[diversionist]

[ touch can be tricky with cassian. but he can feel her intention to take his hand before she does, through their connection, and he lets her. it's a small thing after what they've already shared. ]

I don't think anyone could blame you if you did.

[ a flicker of humor, for how dryly he says that. he does, actually, hate silco. one interaction was more than enough for that. but he doesn't dwell on the thought, for all that the feeling is likely clear to her.

because she does move on to another question, and it's — logically, it's a rational thing to ask, for all that it could never be a consideration for him. he exhales, starts to shake his head even before she's done asking. his gaze slants down, then back up to meet hers, even as his emotions tangle in a complicated, bittersweet way. ]

I could never go somewhere and abandon my galaxy to the Empire. Living happily, while they subjugate millions? [ he shakes his head again. ] No. I couldn't live with myself.

pax sent it to me and it's just 100% true,

[muchalucha]

[ She laughs and nods, maybe even gives a little shrug, since, well. Hate is such a strong word in the first place, especially for her. There’s something so much more bitter and personal about it, so there were few people she would say she hated. This, of course, did not save them from a fate of facing her wrath. She may not hate Silco, but she will take his hand as she promised. Eventually.

But since that’s not something that Cassian dwells on, neither does she! Easy!

Especially when his emotions tangle up so quickly after, and the answer is one that’s achingly sad. It’s also one she deeply respects. ]

…I understand. That’s actually the best answer anyone has given me so far, you know?

[ Not that she has the deepest well to draw from in terms of the Zenites she’s talked to about this, but she has a feeling it’s not the most common situation among them. The people she’s talked to who hated their world felt no duty towards it. Why they couldn’t just find somewhere else to start a new chapter in their lives was a question that they didn’t have much of an answer for. Wanting to destroy it was born of pain and injustice, she thinks. It could be blinding. Cassian seems to have stepped that part of things, but the conclusion is— ]

I don’t know if it’s any better here, especially right now, so I hope I’m not saying this for nothing! But… I hope you can at least live happily here in Kenos, even if it’s only for a little while. Until one side or the other wins, yes? It sounds like either road is a hard one for you. [ She gives his hands another little squeeze ] So, find something happy here in the meantime, yes?

[ She at least withdraws her hands at this point. While she would absolutely have no problem just holding Cassian’s hands for a very long time, she does get the sense through Communion of how touch isn’t something he’s wholly comfortable with. But, as she does so, she also laughs a little as something else comes to mind. ]

Maybe I should teach you how to summon the full me, though! That way if you go back to your galaxy, you could at least call me down, maybe!

[ Is this serious or a joke? Who knows! It would be a bad idea, probably. ]

[diversionist]

[ in another world, in another time, this conversation goes very differently. quetzalcoatl expresses this wish — this kind, heartfelt wish — and cassian andor accepts it with both hands. he'd be lying, of course. but in another version of events, he smiles at her, and he squeezes her hands back, and he promises to try. or maybe he does better. maybe he promises her he will; maybe he promises her that he'll do his best to seek out happiness, and maybe he even convinces himself he means it, and maybe they both leave this conversation feeling a little better about their situation in kenos. maybe, maybe, maybe. he would like to say something like this to her. he really would.

but in this world, in this time, she is holding his hands and sensitive to his feelings through the communion keeping them all open to one another. more than that: her blood is still drying and cracking against his shard, sap though it is, and his is doing the same on hers. so there are no barriers between his mind and hers right now. or only thin ones, beneath which lay only details that she has yet to know. details, but not his essence. not his motivations. not his reasons.

not

the regret (he thinks it's regret) that rises in his throat and seems to catch there, suffocating. not the way his eyebrows draw together, briefly, etching lines across his forehead, or the brief stutter to his breath. small things, but the two of them are in close proximity, and, remember, she can feel what he feels. it's not just regret. he is not meant for living happily, and he never has been, and he's even tried. his guilt is old and heavy and overwhelming; because he doesn't deserve happiness, even if he could. even though he does have a glimmer of a chance, here with jyn, but he doesn't deserve that, either. there's a debt that's owed to his galaxy, to everyone he ever outlived, abandoned, killed, hurt — the list so long he doesn't remember all the names, just the imprints some of them left behind. it's terrible that he hasn't yet paid for it. he'd finally thought he had — and then he'd woken in kenos.

it's terrible,

that he feels all that, sharp and unfiltered, before he takes the emotions with both hands and smothers them. smooths out his face, draws out a smile as he looks back at her, as his hands drop to his sides. ]

I can't do that either, [ is gentle and rueful, rather than doing her the disservice of lying about the reaction she surely felt. but he does grasp onto that change of subject with, ] What would that mean? Summoning the full you?

[muchalucha]

[ The regret that Cassian feels is deep and complex, at least to Quetzalcoatl. His breath stutters and his face tenses with the feeling, but for her? Immediately, her eyes well up with tears that spill over. There’s no holding it back for her, even if it’s not really her emotions, but she still feels for Cassian, especially when he speaks to deny himself a slice of happiness.

After all, she’s the god that had faced an impossible challenge and had given so much of herself to create humanity (or, part of it). Cassian may not be the Azteca who she had lovingly raised, but he’s still a mortal man prone to all the same triumphs and failings that any person was. She loved them all, even if her blood didn’t run through him.

She’ll return to what it means to summon her, but with feelings like that, Cassian isn’t escaping the subject so easily!! ]

Sure you can, tonto! It’s— Well, I won’t pretend to know exactly what you feel [ the specifics of why, she means ], but everyone deserves happiness!

[ It might not be precisely what he means by it, but it’s what Quetzalcoatl takes away from it. She laughs a little as she reaches up to her face to touch at the tears, though she’s laughing at herself for crying so easily. There’s no regret for it, though. His guilt and regret might be too old and protected to shed tears over at this point, so she’ll do it on his behalf. ]

I know that can be hard to believe, so it’s okay. But just keep it in mind, maybe? I’m sure you can find those moments here in Kenos. And if I can help you find them, I will!

1/2

[diversionist]

[ oh god now she's crying ]

[diversionist]

[ her love for humanity, the extent of it now focused on him, is a bright and powerful thing. it's overwhelming, in truth. like looking directly into the sun — and isn't that what any of them are risking, every time they look at her? he understands that now. the fact of her divinity truly is undeniable.

(he remembers: i love him more than anything he could ever do wrong. he hasn't thought about that message in a while, but quetzalcoatl makes it hard to forget, right now.)

with both hands, he reaches out to touch her shoulders bracingly, give them a squeeze. offer some small comfort for the distress he's, very clearly, caused. ]

Okay, [ he promises, ] okay. I'll keep it in mind.

[ is he being entirely truthful? of course not. but she understands how hard to believe it is, so maybe that's okay. and he won't immediately turn around and forget this conversation either, much as he wishes he really were cold enough to. so it's — you know. the best he can offer right now. ]

[muchalucha]

[ She laughs again (at herself) as Cassian reaches out to touch her shoulders. She can tell that his reassuring words aren’t something that he fully believes in, but… Similarly, that’s okay. Much like he’s not able to believe that he deserves happiness, he might not be able to believe that someone can care so immediately and deeply for his story. ]

Good.

[ And, since Cassian is the one that reached out to her this time! She gently places her hands on his face, then leans forward to give him a quick kiss on his forehead. It’s just as warm and earnest, and also easy to pull away from if it’s too much, but— With that affectionate little gesture, it’s clear that this is something that comes from that deep well of love. It’s not maternal, more like a big sister doting on a younger sibling expressing their troubles, but it’s sincere all the same. ]

That’s all I ask, okay? And if you ever need help, you can ask me! Even if you decide that Zenith is the right path for you… I can still do what I can to help.

[diversionist]

[ quetzalcoatl reaches for his face, and he — lets her.

it's surprisingly easy to get used to, her expressiveness. maybe because he knows her a little, because he's had a lot of opportunity in this conversation in particular to become accustomed to it. and it helps, the strong bond between them in communion, the blur where she ends and he begins. he can feel the genuine affection, the warmth, the overflowing love. it's too much, in truth. but it's also impossible to doubt.

gentle hands upon his face, the brief kiss to his forehead. when was the last time he was doted upon? years and the rebellion and a war ago. back when he had a family. back when he had a home. back when he had something to lose.

and maybe it's acceptance enough, that he doesn't let go of her shoulders until she pulls away, or that he doesn't flinch back from her, or that the sense of him is calm, accepting. a little fond, if you're paying attention. but he wouldn't admit to that. ]

That's kind of you. [ he means that. and, with an acknowledging tilt of his head, ] I'll remember.

puts a lil bow on this thread 🎀

[muchalucha]

[ She’s glad that the gesture is accepted, since with one notable exception (Vash…) everyone else has treated her affection with more trepidation. It’s fair, of course, and it only becomes more fair the more she learns of the difficult places and circumstances that so many Shard-Bearers seem to come from. How can you accept such warmth if you’ve spent so much time out in the cold, so to speak?

Yes, in lieu of her typical duties as a Servant or as a God, she thinks she’s figured out what her purpose should be here in Kenos. She may not need to be the literal sun here, but she can give her love and all of its warmth instead. The Zenites that choose to live in their moonlit city surely need it most.

So, she nods, pleased. Especially with that little fondness that she feels, but that’ll be their secret. ♥ ]