Sep — Roleplayer Guild

SHELTER OF THOSE WHO SHAPE // THIRD MOONRISE OF SECOND SEASON
All language within - { } - is translated to 'English' from Native.

Requires Discipline let out a string of expletives passed down through generations of Tainted. The Demons once referred to them as 'swear words'. Sometimes it felt apt to put voice to his frustration, rather than simply let loose a roar like his other brethren. He stood up and walked away from the workstation where various computer chips, circuit boards and various combinations of biological tissue sat. He scratched his head furiously with his right arm, using his twisted and warped left he scooped up one of the nutrient slugs from its container. Opening his mouth he savoured the acidic feeling as it squirmed its way down his throat. 

Being Tainted RD was used to the bottom of the barrel foods and supplies, however since becoming the Deacons Chosen he had known nothing but the greatest comfort. He was still in the lowest caste in society, but he was now the top of that caste. 

He tried not to allow the bitter sensation to enter his stomach, that the most basic luxuries for the common people were a Utopia to him. RD looked back over at the bench, as the nerve endings and tentacles flopped around uselessly on the table looking for some sense of connection. The idea in his head had been so simple, the human - Demon. He corrected himself. The Demon radios worked by transmitting high-frequency waves, that were - he tapped his chin looking for the correct term. Electrotorpedic? No that wasn't right.

Walking back over to the table he eyed his work. Either way, when the Great Journey began in earnest they would need more vessels. These vessels would need sensors and communication suites and the matter of the fact was that there may have been enough Tainted to make, operate, and maintain the systems required for spaceflight. They just didn't have the resources, Demon technology was scarce these days. The few ships found adrift in space were often destroyed by Zealots before any useful parts could be harvested from them. The most useful parts were always the most delicate. 

That is why his work was so important, RD was trying to use organically grown organisms to generate the same results. Communication within the system was easy, their vessels already did that. All living things had Electromagnolia signals that were transmitted around their nervous systems. The trick he was trying to develop was passing these signals through space from one to the other. It was difficult, especially when no one truly understood the Demon technology.

A knock at the door shook him out of his reverie. A knock at the door, rather than having someone just barge in. How quaint. 

{Excuse me, Maven.}

Maven, not Requires Discipline. It may not have been a true name, but it was likely the closest he would ever get to and he certainly never expected to gain this title, nor see it used in his lifetime. To become Maven you were selected by the Deacon herself, almost as a leader of the Tainted. It was a title that many Deacons had neglected through the years and hadn't been used since the last main Demon colony had been wiped out from the stars. 

{Yes, Slow To Think?}

The brother bowed at him, she was nearly a head taller and his bow brought the top of their heads in line. His armour an emerald green and clean. It was always incredibly clean, he suspected he had an acid shower several times a day to clean himself of the uncleanliness.

{The Deacon has sent word, that the first vessel is away.}

RD turned away from him. {Good. Good. May the Gods watch over it, and allow me victory in my work. For I believe we may soon need it.}

SCOUT SHIP - HIDDEN TWILIGHT // THIRD MOONRISE OF SECOND SEASON
All language within - { } - is translated to 'English' from Native.

Pathetically Lame opened his eyes after a brief prayer. The Gateway loomed ahead of him. He had heard tales, and sermons about the Gateway before, how the Gods had used it to seed life throughout the Galaxy. Until the Demons had come forth to spread their disease and taint, corrupting everything they touched like a great plague. The Gods had severed the connection, and the Nameless had seen through the Demons facade, eliminated them and reclaimed the system in the name of their Gods.

Now it appeared the Gods saw them ready to rejoin them in the stars. They couldn't however, risk the bulk of the fleet. There was talk, whispers. That the Demons may have spread to other systems, spreading the darkness and death to other worlds the Gods had placed in the heavens. 

This is why Pathetically Lame was the first to transition through, the small cargo vessel had been retrofitted with the most advanced sensor system that they could put together. A sister ship was currently being put together by his brothers, as whenever nearing the Gateway it seemed to communicate with the Demons systems showing a whole host of destinations. Perhaps the Demons had based their heretical 'technophacy' on that that the Gods had left behind? 

{Status, Disobedient Runt?}

It felt wrong to use his whole descriptor, however everything said was being relayed back to the flagship of the Fleet of Unending Fury. Thus if they didn't wish for a dishonourable death, they had to ensure that all protocol and doctrine was followed.

His brother turned his misshapen and burnt face towards him. {The co-ordinates locked, and the portal is stable. We are ready for transit.}

Pathetically Lame nodded his head and pushed the controls forward. Feeling the acceleration push him back in the seat slightly, in the background he could hear the praying coming through the speakers. 

{-and on the First Moon the Gods created the heavens and all that they contained-}

{Speeding on approach, contact in twenty seconds-}

{-for this was the Gods promise, to create a perfect system, for all living things to live in peace, harmony and worship-}

{-fifteen, holding steady-}

Pathetically Lame felt his stomach lurch and drop.

{-there was peace and prosperity for all life. Everything was truly perfect, and happy-}

{-ten, getting some turbulence now-}

The stars stretched before him, as he strained to keep his eyes open. As if closing them would dishonour the Gods, they had provided this majesty, this perfect creation. The minor discomfort was worth it for being part of this incredible moment. One of the first to travel through to the home of the Gods.

{-Until the demons came-}

Static broke out over the line as the ship 'made contact' with the portal. Pathetically Lame wasn't entirely sure if there was anything physical to contact. All the Demon systems short-circuited as the ship came tumbling out the other side of the Gateway. His eyes burned, and his stomach ached as the vessel tumbled through space, he briefly caught sight of a star in the distance and what could have been worlds before the darkness overtook him and he passed from consciousness.
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