THE SOOT OF IGNORANCE: RISING ACTION

[beleos]

BETWEEN UNCONTROLLED ESCALATION & UNENDING PASSIVITY

The moonlit city of Highstorm has always been a tranquil location.

Its people, passionate about the steady leadership of Zenith's leader — Lady Yima — begin their movements slowly and deliberately. Following the lead of their most trusted Shard-Bearers and the word of their Lady, activity in Highstorm begins to increase in the vicinity of Yima's Manor. The Court, the town square outside of it, becomes a hotbed of bustle and voices. Personnel and attendants rush around with documentation, stirring others to action. A select few figures gather the full force of their long-standing houses, calling on family bonds and their own castellans to assist the efforts that build over the course of a few days.

For the tranquility of Highstorm is only ever punctuated by its decisiveness, its faith that their path is the correct one — and now, they will prove it.

In a trickle-down effort, from the most loyal Zenites to the newest, the news unfolds for them: Amos Burton has been tasked by Lady Yima herself to turn the tides back in Zenith's favor. He is to end the life of the 34th Tribune, Cyrus Marcius Germanus Kokkinos, alongside the fortune who have found their way into Zenith's graces. In the earliest hours of the invasion, the figure of Yima herself steps out onto the balcony of her quarters — the highest point of the Manor — with her robes soft around her body and hands extended to her people. Her silence is punctuated by glowing feelings of pride that flow through the hearts and minds of every last sworn Zenite, bolstering their resolve and encouraging them with the cool, ever-flowing might of the people who look to Zenith's Shard-Bearers for their victory.

She sees them off with unspoken sentiments of love, confidence in them — the whispered promises that she knows they are ready to see the war through. And perhaps none of them will know that it is the last time they see her.

For in the sun-dappled sprawl of Springstar, their target awaits them.

The bustle of the city has always been without reservation; the bright and airy attitudes of militant citizenry look on with confidence and celebratory warmth as their Shard-Bearers have brought them to a marginal advancement over their enemies. While Tribune Cyrus's popularity has waned, there are alternative avenues they have begun to explore — the figure of Agapitos Voreen has become deeply popular, with savvy statements, an easy confidence and a willingness to deny Zenith any room to breathe, he is a shoe-in for future Tribune, whenever the next elections are held.

Which is why, in between one moment and the next, the city is rocked by the efforts of their opposition. Zenite-aligned Shard-Bearers and the small house armies of Yima's most loyal core families fill the streets with chaotic distractions, ranging from duels with the Helios Legionnaire to direct attacks on civilians. ( Where does your character draw the line, if they care to? Will it matter in the long run, do they believe? ) Appearing from several Cornerstones hidden within the city's confines from missions long past, tracking the movements of Legionnaires and Shard-Bearers alike from the placement of listening gems and tracking spells, even rising from the bowels of Kowloon to trap the city in a pincer movement — Highstorm goes on the offensive.

Springstar puts up a valiant resistance in return; however, within twenty-four hours, Zenite Shard-Bearers will have hunted down, cornered and slain the Tribune. In that moment, Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearers will feel a splitting pain: the suddenness of having an integral element of their power ripped from them, the sensation akin to being crushed, gasping under the weight of Zenith's swell. The last trickle of emotion from Cyrus for them is a gentle warmth, fondness and forgiveness and the purity of his confidence in them. He believes in them, he always has, and he prays and hopes for their victory even though he will not be around to see it become reality, now.

His death is announced the following day by his assistant Cetina, the deer-morph girl choking back angry tears as she — with a furious and tearful General Ayo Zaman and the somber, mournful figure of Hieropoios Natalia at her side — lambasts Highstorm for the act of aggression, attempts to rouse the city and Meridian's hope, and pledges that she will not let her best friend's murderers escape her vengeance.

Hours after Cetina's message, in the far corner of Highstorm — following the people's celebrations and rejoicing in their strike, the delight in the might of their Shard-Bearers and the renewed passions of their people in pursuit of their victory — a brilliant, golden beam of sunlight pierces the eternal night of the city.

In an instant, the balcony upon which Yima had stood and the rooms beyond it — in fact, the entirety of the Manor, is engulfed in fire and light. The Manor falls, crumbling in upon itself as debris cascades into the living quarters of Shard-bearers and partially topples into the Court beyond. While the Tree of Life, the Reflecting Pools and many businesses around the Court escape extensive damage, the Manor itself is in shambles. And in the wake, many Zenite Shard-Bearers will feel the suddenness of having an integral element of their power ripped from them, the sensation akin to being crushed, gasping under the weight of Meridian's swell. In the wake of the strike, there is a deep silence within them.

Any attempts to contact Yima are met with the same silence a Shard-Bearer feels when reaching out to another who has left the world entirely. And with that, both sides are left to pick up the pieces and weigh the consequences of their actions.

ADDITIONAL MATTERS

During ( and in the wake of both assaults ), there is plenty for any Unharmonized Shard-Bearers and more moderate Meris/Zenites to partake in. Damage has been wrought to both cities at differing times, and there is a degree of life lost no matter the best efforts of those who value innocents over the price enacted by acts of war.

In Springstar, the citizenry has been ravaged by attacks stemming from the depths of Kowloon: as monsters in the form of both individuals with unusual appetites (cannibals and vampires, for example) and heavily-drugged, superpowered addicts have been finding their way into the city, slaughtering civilians indiscreetly, picking fights with the Legionary, and engaging in general criminal mischief and violence. Following Zenith's assault and subsequent assassination, the city will be on high alert and be deeply hostile toward Zenith-aligned Shard-Bearers, as well as mistrustful towards any Unharmonized ( for good reason: they might still Harmonize with Zenith! ). After the day of the attack, the attacks drop off significantly, but do not vanish entirely, for now that some have gotten a taste, it will take time for Yura to reign them in once more.

The people of the city turn to their Shard-Bearers in the wake of their Tribune's murder; even though his popularity had waned, it isn't as though his death doesn't affect them! Deeply concerned and frightened for their future, they demand information about what will be done to protect the city from another assault like this? Some civilians will turn to the church, or perhaps community leaders, but it seems very few turn to the legionary, after they were so focused on the attacks that they missed the forest for the trees. Their trust in their military leaders is waning, and they’re looking for answer. Some community leaders have tried to soften the hurt and anger of Springstar’s people, but they look toward those whom were not a part of the current establishment to answers.

In Highstorm, Yima's Manor lays in shambles, but the rest of the city is unharmed. Shard-Bearers who were living in the Manor will find that their living quarters suffered from the collapse and subsequent fires, but any precious items/belongings they had in their rooms can be recovered after sifting through the rubble. One of Yima’s most trusted, Florence, seems to be taking the reigns of control, and while there are still pockets of the manor that remain on the outskirts of the building itself, she encourages any Zenites who had not moved out to move on quickly, since what is left should be used by any newcomers who need shelter, and not those whom have had the opportunity to make bonds, and have allies that they can rely on.

The main issue now plaguing Zenites is the sudden, overwhelming crowd that begins to gather in the Court, demanding information from them about Yima's safety — they are frantic, and rightfully concerned about further assaults of that incendiary degree from Meridian. The city will be on high alert and be deeply hostile toward Meridian-aligned Shard-Bearers, as well as mistrustful towards any Unharmonized ( for good reason: they might still Harmonize with Meridian! ). The Manor itself is almost entirely destroyed, with only a shell of the outskirts left, and though those who are left are already trying to sift through the rubble, they are often overcome by their sorrow, and it is not uncommon in the wake of Meridian’s destruction to find some of Yima’s most loyal in distress, for the loss of their leader.

A LIGHTHOUSE AGAINST THE ENCROACHING STORM

A few months ago, all current Shard-Bearers experienced a mass dreaming event, full of teeming darkness and a pervasive sense of terror. Following the death of Cyrus and the "presumed loss" of Yima, all Shard-Bearers will receive yet another dream.

This one is a simple, direct thing: rife with a haunting sense of being watched, observed as if from the reeds and brush by a hunter. Whatever your power level, however skilled you are and confident you are in your place, your decisions, your heart will quake before the severe impression of something prowling at your heels. Just out of sight, but never out of mind. Every Shard-Bearer's shard will wrench free of their body upon waking, falling from their physical form as if to flee this sensation of something waiting, patient, for the right moment to pounce.

Echoing in the back of their mind, a wordless, shapeless promise lingers: Forward, or back. Back, or forward. Dart and weave, flit and flutter, scamper and scurry. We are here, now. In the back of every mind, what was in the process of coming before is — it is here, now. Looming right above, waiting for the outcome, watching for which way the last lives at the end of existence will flee.

Upon awakening from the mass dream-become-nightmare, Shard-bearers will slowly become aware of the exacerbation of previous events that have been persisting since October. These events are no longer subtle, and will impact everyone regardless of faction allegiance, with purposefully targeted strikes:

— Darkness has spread within Springstar. Wherever there is shadow cast by person, object or building, it has deepened, darkened, and grown in size. Walking through any shadowed area or touching a darkened shadow will fill a Shard-bearer who enters that area with feelings of dread, of something lingering just out of sight, of danger prickling along their spine, and entice them to run and flee. If they are not quick enough, an unseen entity savages them — aiming directly for wherever their Shard is hidden and held. They are being hunted.

— Light has spread within Highstorm. Starlight and moonlight seem to sear what they touch, leaving patches of bleached-white scars upon person, object or building. Being touched by the light or coming into contact with a white-scarred entity will fill a Shard-bearer with feelings of malaise, like they should simply lay down and accept what comes next. Suffocating hands waiting to pin them down. Even in the safety of the shadows, the scourging glow of any light reaches for them and rakes across their bodies, seeking the place where their Shard is hidden or held. Ravaging them with hot-and-cold burns. They are being sacrificed.

— Shard-bearers readily become lost in familiar places, as if their homes and bastions of safety and security have become strange ( estranged? ) from their minds. The route to that favorite haunt ( perhaps even their own place of business ) eludes them, and searching for it alone becomes an impossibility. It takes another Shard-bearer, at times, to aid them in breaking free of the mild befuddlement. You're just tired. It's just the strain getting to you.

— Citizens of both Springstar and Highstorm continue to speak about neighbors who have 'suddenly moved away', or the disappearance of a favored shop or cafe. Some mention favorite, useful landmarks vanishing, causing them to forget where they are coming from, or where they are going. When directly asked about this circumstance, they shrug and declare that it happens all the time these days. In fact, there's nothing to really be done about it. And if pressed, the citizenry's eyes go glassy and expressions become confused as they ask who, what, where, and why their Shard-Bearer has begun asking them such strange questions. None seem bothered by this strange occurrence, as if all is well and normal.

— Shard-bearers will begin to see familiar faces in crowds, standing on street corners, peering through their private windows, waving them down at their familiar haunts. People from their own worlds, loved and hated alike rush for them — adoring and hostile alike. Family members and friends who seem to attempt to meet their eyes before the crowd swallows them up; loved ones who should be captured in Shards try to flag them down, calling their names and asking them where have you been? what's going on?; enemies and abusers seem to advance upon them, pushing their way forth hungrily. And then they are gone, but not before leaving behind the impression, the strange sensation that, they are real. Really there. If only for a moment.

OOC & (IMMEDIATE) WORLD CHANGES

The full document for this event can be found here!

So, what does the world look like now that this has all gone down?

The world of Kenos ripples from the effects of our players!

Springstar is (mostly) physically unharmed, though the population has been reduced thanks to the number of murders and criminal mischief that has taken place during the attack. Damage seems constrained to things like broken doors and windows, looted property, and murdered civilians, though the severity is up to how many defend Springstar from the concentrated might of Ryad’s regulars, and a practical army of addicts rising from the depths below the city.

The leadership of Springstar is also shaken, though there are procedures in place for this – if one is particularly studious, they will recall that this is not the first Tribune that has been assassinated, though it is the first in a long while – and the Church and the Legionary have stepped in to maintain the peace while elections begin to be arranged.

Cyrus’s body is interred publically at the Church in Heliopolis for a week after his passing, before his body is immolated during a service, his soul returned to the Tree of Life. Those who attend will feel the light of Meridian fill them, and their Discord may be reduced by one level thanks to the warm hope that fills them, even as they despair at the loss of their leadership. Meridian calls to its most loyal, and asks them to do what they do best, show hope and unending resolve, when things look to be their most hopeless.

Highstorm is another story. The destruction wrought is more property, but the number of people who were within the manor is difficult to count until a week or two after the destruction has been evaluated, and cleanup has begun. The loss of life is not devastating compared to what was leveled upon Springstar, but perhaps the most distressing is that Yima is not present. Florence reassures those in Highstorm with her calming, but firm presence.

With few of Yima’s softer adorations to be found, Florence instead pushes the faithful to muster their will and begin the recovery efforts. After all, they have long proven to have faith in Yima’s guidance, and they should believe in it now when it is difficult. It is not the first time their fortitude has been tested, after all.

Her words fill those in Zenith with a sense of calm resolve, and they may feel their distress and discord from this destruction alleviating slightly. Highstorm’s government works smoothly without Yima, and those who are interested in history will be able to see Florence’s name throughout the annals, as one that would guide Yima’s faithful when the matron was in convalescence, or respite. What Zenith does best, after all, is build something new when faced with destruction. Consider this a primer for your new world, to help bring the faithful back from the brink of their despair.

The unharmonized have a choice, as they so often do. This time, however, the stakes appear even higher than before. The cities are not as welcoming as they once were, and those that have not chosen are beseeched by the civilians of both Highstorm and Springstar. ‘Do you not understand what they’ve taken from us, and what they will in days to come? You cannot let this continue, standing on the sidelines. Imagine the ways in which you could help us,’ they beg, and it feels as though your neutrality will become increasingly inconvenient, as time goes on.

What can we expect next?

As the month of Pelu ( aka March ) dawns, you will begin to feel it. Something tugs at you.

Those who have lived through more than one will feel that anticipatory anxiety rise, as the next oracle is coming. Are you ready to fight to claim it, even when it feels so dark, and even when everything feels different, and harder? Do you look to the stars, and dream of your home? Or do you gaze outward, into nothing, and dream of what you will make from the ashes?

Anticipate the oracle in the coming month of Pelu, and to learn more about those that will step into the voids left by Cyrus and Yima.

And as always!

Questions can be directed here!

Individuals less-inclined to busy themselves with either effort, or looking for a way to gain a foothold/explore the world can report here for exploration attempts. We recommend examining the Kenos Wiki's Locations for ideas, if you don't know where to start. Or! Ask someone in the Discord Server for a recommendation, we have long-time players eager to help.

Lastly, remember that Cyrus and Yima will be a little occupied this time around, but anyone who might ICly have reason to contact them regarding the brewing troubles can do so here!

CODING

Comments

2a

[fursuit]

[ Tezcatlipoca is more aimless than most at this time, but to be fair, he’d truly wandered right into the shit here. Last time he’d showed up, everything was coming up roses, at least so far as he, the god of conflict, personally saw it. Now? Now, this is more how he likes it.

…But it does leave him with some problems. Notably, now he doesn’t have a place to hang with Yima’s manor in shambles, and as much as he loves Kowloon already, there’s only so long he can be there, he’s found. So, fine, he figures. Time to get to know the local color.

So, he drifts around Highstorm enough that he finds himself outside of a shop that’s pretty, sure, but at a glance doesn’t stand out too much from any others. But to Tezcatlipoca… ]

Huh. Ain’t that interesting.

[ He can feel the difference as clear as day now that he has his abilities back. There’s magic in the shop, but it’s familiar. He can feel the subtleties in magic as a god that oversees it, and though it’s duller while he’s in this odd form that was created to break the rules of his world, it’s still clear. It’s from his. So, he wanders in and immediately looks around to take in the sights with interest, but eventually… His eyes land on a girl. Just laying on the floor. ]

Uh. [ UH??? ] You good?

[erbe]

[The malaise she feels is... too strong. Normally Rin would be scrambling up to make herself presentable, but for now she stays on the floor. Staring up at hi—

Ah. Wait. Rin stares at him long and thorough when she sees his face. It's familiar in a way she'd rather not acknowledge at the moment. However just because she doesn't want to acknowledge it doesn't mean she can just pass over it.]

You... you look like someone I knew.

[Tohsaka frowns. To tired to keep up any act of presentable behavior or propriety. Especially not with how Silco has been emo-vomiting his twisted little feelings into the Harbinger void lately.]

[fursuit]

[ The malaise hits him essentially when their gaze connects. He knows this feeling now, since he’d already reached out to Silco at this point and felt the strong connection that came with sharing an Aspect. Naturally, Silco is far different from this, though. He lets out a low whistle at first, and there’s a mean joke in the back of his mind, but. The half-recognition of familiarity holds his tongue. ]

Ah. Yeah.

[ He clicks his tongue lightly with just a little bit of disapproval, but this is no surprise. It’s been exceptionally rare that a mortal gets to meet both the Black Tezcatlipoca (that would be him) and the White Tezcatlipoca (his bird brain of a brother) in the flesh, but they do resemble each other. Their golden hair is the most notable, though his doesn’t possess quite as much natural radiance. ]

Quetzalcoatl, I’m guessing. Fair enough, ‘cause I’m his brother. [ He shrugs ] Well, her, so far as I heard, but that’s just details.

[ He also tilts his head a little bit as he gets a better look at her, since… She bears a resemblance to a Divine-Spirit-Made-Servant that he knows of. There’s not a lick of divinity on her, though. Is he meeting the vessel? Weird. ]

[erbe]

[Tohsaka pulls herself up. If only because his cool reaction to Quetzalcoatl, a family member, doesn't sit right with her. Funny enough, the little charm that Quetz had given her sits as a lone earring in her left lobe — a conch shaped pendant that she decided to alter just slightly to wear it always. Opposite of the red jasper stud — deep, vivid red in color lined with a black that is reminiscent of obsidian. Imperfections "mar" the stone. Like jagged scars and ugly wounds. The other half of the pair resting mirrored in Gen's ear as a helix piercing.

Signs of the connections she has made along the way.]

Does that make you a Servant, too?

[Or is he something else? His signature doesn't quite match Quetzalcoatl's, so she's not sure what to think.]

[fursuit]

[ As she sits up, his eyes flicker to that earring, and there’s a feeling through Communion of recognition. It’s a symbol from his culture, so he recognizes it for that alone, but the association with Quetzalcoatl is clear too. So, this girl must have been favored by her. It’s not exactly a common fashion accessory otherwise.

He puts his hands in his jacket pockets and gives a lazy, sloping sort of shrug as he steps forward. Despite that, his answer is an affirmative. ]

Yep. A real special case, but Servant all the same.

[ Even among the many special cases out there in Chaldea, Tezcatlipoca is still pretty extraordinary… Yet Rin is blessed with the less complicated version where everything essentially works as it should without a truckload of caveats. ]

That’s why I wandered in, actually. Thought I was feelin’ magic that was familiar, and bingo. [ He looks around the shop with a little bit of a smile. ] But with a place like this, ain’t hard to guess you’re a mage. Different than my guy, but I’ve heard you’re fond of workshops and things like that.

[erbe]

[Once she's fully on her feet, Rin's hands smooth out the skirt of her sweater dress. Today she's mostly covered — long-sleeved turtleneck sweater dress that is paired with a set of fleece-lined leggings that have the illusion of looking like a 40 denier pantyhose. The high neck conceals her shard, the coverage of the sleeves and pantyhose covers the way her body reacts to the increased Discord in her body. It's also a simple and comfortable outfit. Perfect for when everything feels like it's all too much.]

Ah, yes. I am a more traditional mage than some, and before recently there was no reason to use any concealment magic on my place of work.

[But see had met Flat at the Tomes and she hasn't seen him in Highstorm since. She assumes Tezca is Unharmonized and that Flat has probably decided to stay with Gray. It would only make sense, she thinks.]

Are you looking for a Master?

[fursuit]

[ Tezcatlipoca nods along, since fair enough. This world is definitely different from their own in enough ways that it feels kind of remarkable that it exists at all. However, he doesn’t even have a chance to spare a further thought to that because her question catches him more than a little off-guard. ]

Woah, right to the point, huh?

[ Just by his surprise alone, it’s pretty clear that’s not why he wandered in at all. He really just was curious to see what other kinds of mages might be drifting around here. It’s not like he has an quarrel with them outside of the Lostbelt, so it amounts to a capricious god’s whims.

…Is he, though?

He hadn’t really thought about it. For one, being a Servant wasn’t a natural state for him in the first place. He’s in the echelon of beings with enough notoriety to be registered within it, but when it came to manifesting, it was pretty much impossible. He’d only become Daybit’s Servant because of his own interest in doing so, or maybe just to see the kind of guy that would have the balls to try summoning a god in the first place. It’s why he’d shot him, first thing. You know, as you do.

But in their Communion where Tezcatlipoca is dark, fragrant copal smoke, there’s a feeling of something more complicated, and that makes him rub the back of his head with a click of his tongue. Also makes him want to smoke. Because, what, saying “sure” would feel like he’s cheating on Daybit or some shit like that? The pang of that feeling is stupid, he knows it. That weird guy had really gotten to him. ]

—Depends on how good your healing magic is, first and foremost. [ He is not going to dwell on that thought, thanks. Let’s go practical. ] Wasn’t thinkin’ too hard about it, but it’d have some advantages.

[ Mainly that if he had to pull out the big guns, he could. He’s pretty sure it wouldn’t matter nearly as much, what with the whole dissipation deal Kenos has going on, but still. Not exactly ideal to use your Noble Phantasm and then immediately keel over and die. ]

[erbe]

I suppose I should be flattered that you didn't laugh in my face with that assumption, but I wasn't actually offering just yet.

[After failing to see Archer through to the end, him having to sacrifice that arm, and Mordred passing her up for someone opposite faction and not even a mage? If this Servant rejected her, she might just perish on the spot. Rin already has enough self loathing to fill a sedan. She doesn't need another hitched trailer of issues following her around.

Tohsaka gestures further into the shop as an invitation. She really doesn't feel like doing anything else, but it might just kill her to leave a bad impression on yet another Servant.]

I could brew us something to drink.

[fursuit]

[ There’s just the smallest bit of relief, if only because it doesn’t totally put him on the spot. Even a (formerly) omnipotent god can be taken by surprise, apparently. Also, this lets him put off processing the thought he had there, as healthy people do.

He takes the invitation with a nod and steps further inside, though his gaze does drift around curiously behind his sunglasses. Some things are familiar, some not so much, so it’s interesting to him. ]

Sure. Been spendin’ the night getting the lay of the land, so I could use a drink at this point.

[ Ever the annoyance, he’s thirsty. His human body and its needs are a pain in the ass, if you ask him… But as they go, he taps at his ear to indicate her earring. ]

You get that from Birdie, I’m guessing? Don’t see the conches often.

[erbe]

[...Ah. The earring. Her hand raises so that her finger can gently touch it as the conch dangles from her lobe.]

Yes. Ehecacozcatl is what Quetzalcoatl had called it in the letter. It may seem silly to accept a present from the enemy, but in this environment with gods and demons one takes whatever advantage they can get.

[She probably botched the pronunciation of ehecacozcatl, but she makes a good effort for a Japanese woman at least. Rin leads Tezca to the back of the shop where she has the supplies to make tea. Though he will notice this part is more like a traditional mage's workshop.]

[fursuit]

Nah, I’m with you here. Me and Quetzalcoatl might be mortal fuckin’ enemies. [ a pause ] …Well, so to speak on the mortal part. But even if it’s an enemy handing ‘em out, you don’t pass up on a potential advantage.

[ As they head back, his interest increases because he can feel the difference in a mage’s workshop intuitively, but… Intuition is all it is. Daybit had never established a mage’s workshop, so he has no idea what they’re supposed to look like. Not that Daybit would be a good example anyways. ]

Besides, I can tell just lookin’ at it that it’s not like she gave you a weapon. Just a minor blessing, I assume.

[ His curiosity sparks again like he wants to ask a question, but he doesn’t. He just walks over to the nearest thing of interest to look at it nosily instead. ]

[erbe]

[He'll find all kinds of things to poke at. Dried flowers and herbs hanging around as they wait to be ground into powder. Beakers and flasks of fresher plants being distilled to make oils that will better mix with soaps, salves, and lotions. Some ingredients need to pickle in jars while others are resting out on trays to be moved elsewhere or wrapped up neatly for sale. None of it is expressly magical, at least not yet. Anything that requires magic is only done on commission. It's not like she lives on a leyline anymore. She doesn't recover as unnaturally as she would back home.

But that's just a reminder... of how she was further away from regular humans than she had even realized.]

Mm, that is probably correct. Are you feeling generous enough to explain why you two don't get along?

[He at least doesn't seem to be taking it out on her, which is a good sign. Quetzalcoatl had insisted that Rin steer clear of her (his?) brother, and only now is she curious enough to ask why. While waiting for him to answer she pulls her hair up into a ponytail. In pure Nasu-Fate fashion, a little food is going to go with this drink. Technically she should make it upstairs in her housing addition, but a little magecraft will make sure it's fine.]

[fursuit]

[ The assortment feels nostalgic to him in a way that makes his smile tilt fonder, though it’s understated. This part does feel familiar, but it’s an old kind of familiar. Magic and religion were deeply intertwined for the people of the Aztec empire that were able to practice it, so it took forms more like this. It was all about sacred herbs, sacred rites and rituals where ingredients were prepared with discipline, and if Tezcatlipoca was feeling generous (or bored), he might bestow his power as the god who oversaw such things.

However, the nostalgic meditation does get interrupted by the question. His smile turns to a frown, and he turns back to Rin, but he doesn’t seem mad about the question. It really is more that the story is annoying to tell, in his opinion. ]

Ah, geez… Take a sibling rivalry and crank it up to the point that you’re destroyin’ the world?

[ He sighs, then satisfied enough with his explorations now that this topic has come up, he’ll go to lean against a counter or something of the like that’s a little out of the way. ]

Some part of it is just fated. Machinations of the World itself that entangles Divine Spirits in a way that other creatures don’t have to worry about. Balance, that kinda shit. I’m night, she’s day, I’m black, she’s white, all those kinda analogies made manifest.

[ He rubs the back of his head as he pauses, since it’s clearly not just that. It’s more personal and kind of presumably has to be for the level of vitriol they have at each other. ]

It’s one of the pieces of the Aztecs that’s a little better known, so you can stop me if I’m explainin’ stuff you already know. But you know the basic idea about the Five Suns in our pantheon?

[erbe]

I didn't do much research into Divine Beings, because as far as I was aware they technically shouldn't be viable to summon as Servants.

[The water is on to boil. The tea leaves are measured — Earl Grey, a black tea with roughly as much caffeine as coffee — and Rin sets everything aside. While the water comes to temperature she'll grab a few other things: lavender gets put in a mortar so she can grind it with a pestle, butter is grabbed and left out to soften, she measures out flower - sugar - and vanilla extract.

Some could say the act of cooking, or baking, is a form of creation. A type of alchemy. It's not too far off from a mage making their own medicine for their magic crest.]

[fursuit]

Yeah, we ain’t. I’m a special case even among special cases, but. [ He waves his hand dismissively. ] If you’re curious about that, we can get into that later. Ain’t exactly a big deal here.

[ He taps his fingers against the counter idly, since he’s itching to smoke if he tells a story… But as he looks at Rin fastidiously getting to work, he gets the impression that she’s the kind of person that would complain about him smoking. So, he’ll deal. He’s actually more respectful of hospitality than his flippant demeanor would imply. ]

But it’s our Creation story. Answers the question of how the world and all the people in it came to be. But in our neck of the woods, it wasn’t a one and done—Hell, don’t trust any other god you might meet that claims it was, since they’re either forgettin’ what came before ‘em, or they’re just lyin’. But point is, gods aren’t faultless. We have our own trials and tribulations, same as anyone else, but the legends of the Five Suns in Mesoamerica is just owning up to that.

So. In the cosmic scale of things, life is a cycle. You see it everywhere, from life and death to a river becoming rain. It’s the same for the world itself. No civilization is eternal, and we mark the worlds we create and the civilizations that inhabit ‘em by the “Sun”, since each cycle has a different god sacrifice themselves to become the sun. It’s our most exalted position, and even if it takes dyin’ to become it, it’s an honor and a privilege. It’s the god of the sun that shapes the civilization that lives under its light.

And me, I was the first one with an idea on how to shape the world that worked. I jumped into the fires and sacrificed myself, and rose as the sun of the first world, Nahui Ocelotl. Which, granted. Didn’t work as well as it did by the time you make it to your Sun. I’m the god of the night and only got one leg so I ain’t “complete”, so my sun was black. [ …He says, seeming to have both legs, but! He doesn’t elaborate! ] Our first world was dark, but it wasn’t without light. I created the people, and they were giants by your standards. But, like I said. All things end.

Quetzalcoatl took it into his own hands. He thought he could do better as the sun, so he knocked me from the sky. Nahui Ocelotl ended in absolute darkness because of Quetzalcoatl. It ended up being kinder to just annihilate my people myself rather than let them rip each other apart in fear of the end.

[ He clicks his tongue in annoyance and rubs at his head, since he feels like he’s talked too much for several minutes. Not to mention, he doesn’t actually like talking about it. He mourns his people in his way, since even if he’s not the sort of warm and open person that Quetzalcoatl was, just from how he tells the story, it’s clear he’d cared about his people. It’s why they’re honored in the truest heights of his Noble Phantasm where he can reach through possibility and time to grab them again, if only for that.

He’s more short and clipped by nature, but it’s a complicated story, and that’s only one part of the whole thing. But it answers her question, so he shrugs. ]

So, yeah. Quetzalcoatl threw the first stone, and I ain’t a forgiving god.

1/2

[erbe]

[It doesn't take long for Rin to grind down the lavender so that it is powdered enough not to create to much of a textural dissonance in her shortbread. As he speaks she grinds the dried herb thoroughly, and when it's finished she pours the powder into a bowl along with the sugar, flour and butter. The latter isn't quite as soft as it needs to be, so she holds her palm over it to channel magical energy to melt it. Generating a miniscule amount of heat as that is easy. Simple. Especially for an Average One who has access to the Five Great Elements. From there a little vanilla extract will be added.]

"It wasn't my fault, but also I'm too cool to let it go," is that it? As a human I won't pretend I can completely understand the gods, but Quetzalcoatl definitely made an effort to try and understand us.

[erbe]

[Her reply at first seems dismissive, and a bit too fond of the fallen god. However it doesn't take long for her gaze to fall away from Tezca. Her expression looking as if she feels she should be somber, but her heart can't seem to get there. As if she knows she should be sad, but the emotions just don't blossom. The valley of her heart salted and barren in the wake of Discord's apathy. Sadness is but an outer-feeling for her in this moment. Something that sits on the edges just out of reach.]

That was probably her downfall. His? I guess it doesn't matter. Either way, in the end... she tried too hard and it got her killed. She should have cared less.

[fursuit]

[ His attention is drawn to her when she uses her craft for cooking, and—

…Yeah, that makes sense, he guesses. Perfectly practical, even. It really says something about Daybit that he’s surprised to see it, huh?

Anyways. That light-hearted surprise doesn’t last, though he snorts out a laugh and shrugs at her assessment. She’s not wrong! There’s of course more to the story, the fact that he’d already taken his revenge for her actions once, and after that, it was just an eternal back and forth. But it doesn’t matter so much now. All done there, and it’s thanks to a single, scrawny little guy. Kind of incredible in that respect, but he keeps that thought to himself.

Instead, he laughs a little more, and he picks out something unimportant to respond to first. Lightens the mood, maybe. ]

Eh, his, her, whichever you want. Gender don’t matter much for us gods. I’ve spent my time as a woman too, so we don’t get hung up on it.

[ He shrugs, but after that, his sly smile does calm to a more serious expression. He doesn’t seem to be bothered at all that Rin favors Quetzalcoatl, and it’s not a front. Their shared connection as Harbingers makes it clear. He has his own feelings, but beyond complaining or giving his opinion, he wouldn’t try and force someone to agree with him. It’s not his style. ]

—Well, yeah. I’d agree with you there. Knowin’ Quetzalcoatl, there were probably plenty of times she could’ve squashed Silco like a bug, but she didn’t. That’s her understanding at work, as you put it. And, not gonna lie, since I’d be the same way, but probably some arrogance too. Gods don’t exactly die, yeah?

[ Not in any normal way, at least. They could “die”, but it’s analogous to the difference between being dissipated and being shattered. Their version of dying didn’t stick. ]

That’s just how we are, though. There’s some parts of our nature we can’t fight against. That kinda love for life has always been one of hers.

[erbe]

[The mixed dough gets pressed into a pan. However before she can utilize her craft to cook it, Rin pulls away from making the shortbread to attend to the tea. The water is up to temperature, so she pours it into the pot where the loose leaves can steep freely. The aroma of the Earl Grey's keemun leaves that had been flavored with the bergamot oil fills the room. Black tea with a zing of citrus.

After returning to the pan Rin will carefully hold her hand above the pre-baked dough and encourage it to rise with a bit of magical heat (she's too impatient to use the oven). This means the corner edges will probably burn a little, but those will be easily cut off later.]

So what about you? Where do you stand in all this?

[Tohsaka uses her free hand to gesture vaguely. She means everything. Faction, goals, whatever he'll share with her. She doesn't exactly care about what he wants to do, but information is important. And if he's stepping into her shop just to stab her in the back, well...

Ah, that's the funny part, isn't it? She doesn't want to die, but she doesn't feel particularly strong about fighting back in this moment. Not when everything feels so troublesome. So heavy. How many "goodbyes" will she have to say before it stops?]

[fursuit]

Well, I got my own nature, essentially.

[ With his casual air, it seems like that non-answer might be as much as she gets for an answer… But he just pauses to consider how to put it best. His deal with Set was perfectly valid as an answer, if infuriating to the people that didn’t get it. But it is more complicated than that. And though she’d admitted that she didn’t know much about Divine Spirits (for fair reasons), he figures a mage from his world at least has a better chance of getting it. ]

This world sure as shit ain’t like ours, rules wise, but I think there’s at least some pieces that are familiar. This is the third time I’ve been here, so I have to assume this World wanted me real bad. I get why, too. I’m the overseer of conflict. If there’s a struggle for existence, I’ll participate. The side doesn’t matter.

[ This, of course, being his interpretation of ooc events, lmfao. Good job tezca ]

…But I’ve placed my bet on Zenith, so it has my full support. I ain’t a god of neutrality. More… balance. So, since Meridian has their own god of war, fair’s fair that Zenith needs theirs too.

[erbe]

[Tohsaka groans as she rolls her eyes. Immediately upon him announcing that he's simply mirroring Set on the opposite side. Two?! Two of them? One was enough! How she must be grateful for her time having been after the Age of Gods so she didn't have to deal with all-powerful beings pulling the strings here and there. Trying to both be abrasiveness and friendly to find some perfect middle ground where every pawn can be expertly placed.

She hates it. Maybe Tezca can simply assassinate her now and save her the headache.]

Wonderful. Welcome to the team.

[Said in the most flat and least welcoming voice she can manage! Her frustration makes the edges burn a little faster, so when she smells the char Rin backs off and sighs at her own work.]

[fursuit]

Eh? The fuck's with that reaction?

[ Tezcatlipoca seems lightly offended, of all things. He is a great get, thank you! ]

Since you're probably one of the only people that'll know what the fuck I'm talkin' about, I'm a Grand Servant, you know. And a three in one!

[ Well, she'll know what one of those means. The other one will require further questions, but he definitely wants her to ask. On one hand, Tezcatlipoca is fully self-confident. He doesn't need to be acknowledged. On the other, well. He's a god that's worshiped. Of course he's also kind of a praise and attention whore. ]

[erbe]

Oh yeah? Do you even hear yourself?

[Grabbing the teapot roughly, Rin drops a strainer in one of the cups and begins to pour the tea. The liquid is a deep, warm amber and any loose leaves are caught by the strainer as she tips the pot.]

"I'm an exception beyond exceptions! I'm a Divine Spirit, I'm a Grand Servant!"
[She lowered her pitch briefly to imitate him in a frustrated yet comical manner.]

Yeah, and for what? War, conflict, some obtuse idea of balance? Is anyone even supposed to trust you while you skitter around like a weasel poking at everything just to stir up trouble? Even where it's not needed? You lost me the moment you compared yourself to that Meridian god. If you're somehow different than him you'll need to show it.

[There is bitterness in her. Over Quetzalcoatl's demise. Over Set's public display — just short of dancing on an enemy's grave. She may have not had the fortitude to respond to it, but she still internalized it. Holds him in contempt for it.]

[fursuit]

[ what the fuck ]

[fursuit]

[ No, really, what the fuck!! ]

[ Tezcatlipoca’s expression does drop is disbelief, and it’s very obvious that this is a guy who’s not use to getting criticized. Which, no shit! He’s teteo, a god on high that people didn’t dare disrespect. There’s the inherent blasphemy of it, of course, but also just that Tezscatlipoca was a god with a reputation of being fickle.

It’s why his hand twitches slightly, but it’s unseen because he’s still playing the role of the cool guy, so his hands are shoved into his pockets. The utter disrespect makes his trigger fingers itch, and there’s a flare of anger in Communion. It’s like a low growl of a large cat.

…But. Fuck. Embarrassingly, she’s got him dead to rights. That’s what has the anger subside and his hands calm. He tilts his head back with a groan of frustration. You know, maybe he does miss the worshipping, fearful masses, actually. ]

You got a sharp mouth, anyone ever told you that?

[ Rhetorical. He’s sure that yes, someone has. He sighs heavily as he straightens again, but oddly, he finally takes off the sunglasses and tucks them into his pocket. There doesn’t seem to be any particular reason for this. It’s like he suddenly got tired of wearing them. But he does show that his eyes are an unnaturally pale shade of blue. ]

I ain’t lookin’ for trust, for what it’s worth. Don’t even expect it. [ he, uh, has a certain reputation, after all ] But I’m serious about workin’ for Zenith, not balance. If that’s what I gave a shit about, wouldn’t have picked a side at all.