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Golden River Inn

Sheng Qingling

@Salsa Verde

Song Shi's words made Qingling reassess his situation. He knew that his parents believed he was dead, so hoping that they would come look for him was a vain hope. In another corner of the inn, there was a slight commotion, drawing Qingling's aural attention. Apparently some drunk had thrown his work order at some travelers. Qingling wondered why someone would simply throw away a chance at good, honest work, when his sensitive ears heard the drunk's compatriots complaining that the job was too dangerous. As it turns out, there had been a recent uptick of violence on the roads. In addition to the occasional bandit, a murderous couple had been cutting a bloody swath, hunting down Taoists on some sort of vendetta. Qingling's eyes widened. This was the sort of news he had been waiting around to hear.

Qingling turned his attention back to Song Shi. "Perhaps you're right. I hear there's a caravan leaving town tomorrow, but what about yourself? I would feel much safer to have a friend to travel with, but do you not have your own destination?"



@Zeroth @Cu Chulainn

That night Qingling spoke with the proprietor of the Golden River Inn, letting him know that he was leaving and thanking innkeeper for his hospitality and the opportunity to work for room and board.

The following morning, Qingling found himself standing in front of the gate with his guqin in its massive case, strapped to his back, wondering how he was going to weasel his way into the caravan. He had found this location by eavesdropping on the previous holders of the work order. He was unsure if these men really required music, but it was worth a shot. Readjusting the guqin on his back for comfort, he approached the caravan, "Salutations, I am part of a traveling performance troupe, but I was separated from them. It appears that your caravan is going in the direction that they were headed, so if you don't mind, might I hitch a ride? I can make it worth your while by providing some high-class, musical entertainment." he wasn't exactly sure if she would show, but he hoped Song Shi would join him.
Hey, I see it's been a while since there's been a post here, but I was wondering if this RP is still active and if I can apply with a character?
Golden River Inn

Sheng Qingling

@Salsa Verde

Qingling placed his palms on the strings to quiet them, as if their vibrations would betray the uncertainty in his heart. I am at a crossroads. To go or to stay? To search or to stay put? You see, my parents are traveling entertainers, but we were separated at our last stop. I have been unable to find them. I had hoped to rendezvous with them here, in Xincai, where many paths meet, and that word of my music would reach them, leading them to me. But that has not happened. I have been on the road for my whole life, so I do not know of a 'hometown' that I could go to to wait for them. So for now, I am simply trying to earn my keep. Perhaps they will find me, or I will catch word of them. Their...exploits...can be very spectacular."

So as not to remain silent for too long and cause complaint, Qingling began playing again, this time strumming out a sweet, gentle tune reminiscent of the current season, Spring.
Golden River Inn

Sheng Qingling

@Salsa Verde @Restalaan

When Qingling finished his song, a coin flew his way. His eyes traced the trajectory and saw a large woman leaving the inn. he thanked her silently for her patronage as another woman approached the stage and asked him what the song is called.

"'The Desperate Return'," Qingling replied, smiling up at Shi, trying to mask his own heartache, "Perhaps it is a bit too somber? After all, most people at an inn are travelers, so it may be inconsiderate to elicit homesickness. Additionally, for an inn with such...rambunctious clientele, maybe something more rowdy and rousing would be more appropriate? Do you have a request, Miss? I may not know every song, but if you hum a bit for me, or whistle, I will try to match the composition with what little skill I have."

As Qingling waited for Shi's request, he started making micro-adjustments to the individual bridges that held the strings taut, literally fine-tuning the instrument in preparation for whatever he might play next.
Gammaton accepted the jacket from Faetalis but didn't put it on yet. In her true form as an insectoid, she had a protective exoskeletal layer. She may be naked, but she felt secure. And when she was parasitizing a humanoid host, she would wear clothes. Given Faetalis' nude condition when she put on her new skin, Gammaton didn't want to risk the disrespect and unpleasantness of being exposed in the new image Faetalis had granted her. When the council was dismissed, Gammaton skulked back to Hivehill. Trying on the jacket, Gammaton confirmed that Faetalis had indeed peered into her own mind to confirm the image she wished to portray. But it only formed part of the picture, and Gammaton set the silk-producing insects of Hivehill to craft her a robe, regal in it's black and gold, utilitarian and intellectual in its construction.

Then she turned her thoughts to Hivehill. Gammaton and her army were the first line of defense, and it was her wish to be the last. Each floor was a production center in their own right, and no general worth their salt would ever concede to allow even a fraction of that infrastructure to fall to the enemy. But what worried Gammaton was the fact that Faetalis seemed to anticipate a challenge. As far as Gammaton knew, there was no power in this world that rivalled the guild. Caution seemed almost...excessive. But perhaps Faetalis had seen something in her scouting that shook her, and this was what worried Gammaton.

Upon entry, assuming enemies discovered the entrance at the base of the mountain, intruders would be greeted by the mines. There was a central shaft for ease of logistics that was too easy of a route deep into Hivehill. So Gammaton would have to seal this shaft the moment any invaders entered. She would commission to have a massive stone and steel pillar constructed that would form a centerpiece in the upper portions of Hivehill that would slam down as soon as any enemies stepped into the shaft. If the enemy were unfortunate, they would get crushed, and if they scattered, they would be isolated into separate, maze-like mining corridors with miner and soldier ants lurking around every corner. The entrance would be layered with various forms of detection to make sure that no one slipped in without being noticed. Since the ants were all under her command, Gammaton would grant them the same poison and negative status immunities she had, while simultaneously ordering the ants to flood the caverns with poison. It was a bit of twisted irony unknown to Gammaton, since in the real world, human houses are fumigated to get rid of insectoid pests, not the other way around. The first half of Hivehill would thus be a dark, claustrophobic and toxic gauntlet beset on all sides by hostile ants emerging from tunnels. if this didn't kill the enemies outright, it would at least disorient them and buy time for the rest of Infinifactorium to prepare.

The mines would all ultimately converge on a single exit big enough for only one person to squeeze through at a time that led to the second half of Hivehill, which would be the opposite, a large open area, the hive of Hivehill dangling overhead as swarms of wasps would descend on the enemies with nowhere to hide. Far from the entrance would be bombardier beetles spraying volatile caustics at them, defended by soldier ants. It would test the enemy's ability to deal with open warfare, and given that it's impossible that all enemies exit the mines at the same time, it would put them at a terrible disadvantage at the beginning of combat. If she was in her final form, then Gammaton may join her soldiers at this point, commanding and buffing them, swooping down to deal sonic death. If not, she would prepare by gorging herself on food, building up 'evolution points' and waiting for the enemies to arrive.

Should enemies make it past the field of battle, they would enter the chamber of the queens. The queens of Hivehill are technically a form of furniture, barely mobile unit production buildings, but with a trap component capable of combat. The three queens are spread around the circular chamber evenly, and will swipe at enemies with their scythe-like appendages and spew venom, while spawning adds at regular intervals. Gammaton would also put the beast pens to use, and any creatures that Levia was willing to spare would be thrown in for a completely random variable. In this room, Gammaton will also face the enemy herself. If she was in her egg form, then the enemies will get the full battle, as Gammaton will fight in each form, using abilities that each form specializes in. Upon defeat, each form would undergo the next step of metamorphosis, becoming more powerful, and the battle would continue. It is only upon defeating her in her final form that Gammaton will concede and hand over the key to Tungsten's Big Scrap Alley. It perhaps wasn't the mot imaginative gauntlet, but it embodied what Gammaton was most comfortable with.
Golden River Inn

Sheng Qingling

It had been a few days since Qingling arrived at Xincai. he knew he had to get away from the place where his family's crime had been discovered so he wouldn't get caught, but he had no idea where his parents went. His father didn't really have a place to call home, and his mother had only mentioned the Immortal Tools in passing; it hadn't occurred to her to tell him a place to go should he ever get lost. After all, both of his parents were great martial artists, and would be able to find him. But now they believed he was dead, and he had no way of locating them.

From the moment he arrived in the city, he began plying his trade, performing in the streets for coin and keeping his ears open for gossip. it wasn't long until rumors brought him to the Golden River Inn, a place where martial artists gathered. It would be the perfect location to keep his ear to the ground for any news of his parents. If they were on the vengeance warpath, he was sure he'd hear news of them resurface sooner or later. He had approached the innkeeper with his musical talent, offering to entertain the guests in exchange for room, board, and a small income; a few songs later, and he had the job.

Everyday since, Qingling would check the board for news of his parents, but so far there was nothing. Currently, he sat at the north wall of the ground floor were he had been given a stage from which to play. As he strummed his guqin, Qingling sang about a soldier whose contingent had suffered a grave defeat. Behind enemy lines, the soldier needed to find a way back to his homeland. His motivation being the fact that news of his defeat would reach his parents and that they would presume him dead. He blamed himself for his filial impiety at allowing his parents to suffer the grief of losing a child when he was actually well and alive.

Though the subject matter hit close to home, Qingling did not allow his voice to waver, delivering the music impeccably. Expression through song was his own way of lamenting his situation and confronting the worry that plagued him. In a way, he was screaming out to the world in a vain attempt to reach his parents to let them know that he was alive and for them not to grieve. He knew it was pointless, but it was cathartic in its own way.

Qingling had considered journeying out to search for them himself, but not only did he not know where to start or what direction to head in, he was also in poor health. Qingling had died, or nearly died, he wasn't sure which, and years of drugs and having his meridians tweaked had taken a tremendous toll on his body. He didn't blame his mother for trying to hone him but he had to admit that it had come at a great cost. If he was to travel out, he would almost certainly need an escort. But who could he trust to take him? Who could he rely on?






A strange wave of cultural nostalgia, one might even say, "national pride", passed over Gendou as he entered the Ishin school grounds, a testament to Ishin's identity. Gendou looked about nervously, but his anxiety right now was more akin to giddiness. He had made it, and he knew that his mother's spirit was watching over him. Gendou had done his best to try to fit in, hoping to discard his status as social outcast and prime target for bullying, so he had worn the uniform that had been sent to him along with his acceptance letter and the guidance pamphlet.

There seemed to be a crowd at the entrance, probably first years like himself taking a picture at the gate to commemorate their acceptance, but Gendou was by himself, and felt a selfie was a bit...disrespectful given the gravitas of the school. Besides, Gendou didn't want to screw up in the slightest, and had resolved to never be late for anything, especially not on on his first day. So the first order of business would be to get to the entrance speech well before it started. To avoid physical contact, Gendou kept his distance from the crowd and shuffled his way past the gate when he heard a loud announcement.

Slightly startled, Gendou turned to look at what all the fuss was about, and saw Haruhi greeting the school. The thought to wave at her and return the greeting crossed his mind, only to be immediately crushed by a pessimistic sense of low self-worth. She obviously wasn't directing her greeting at him, and trying to talk to her would probably just throw off her vibe. She was clearly enjoying herself, and didn't need Gendou's awkwardness to spoil her mood. During this momentary introspection, Gendou caught himself staring and immediately averted his gaze, hoping that he hadn't creeped her out too much. With heavy thoughts of sudden doubt weighing on him, Gendou hung his head and quickened his pace towards the assembly hall. He would feel more at ease sitting as it would allow himself to feel smaller and less exposed.
Gammaton had already reached out an insectoid claw towards the skin of her choosing, but recoiled at Faetalis' declaration. These were not their trophies, but the trophies of their betters. Gammaton remembered more vividly now, that while she had faced the original possessor if this skin on the field of combat, it had been the Supreme beings who struggled against this particular opponent. Gammaton had instead commanded her armies and dealt with the enemy's lesser minions.

At first, Gammaton thought that Faetalis was suggesting for Gammaton go out into the world to seek a worthy opponent either in combat or in tactics, to subdue them, and flay them for their skin, bringing it back as a prize for Faetalis to fashion into a disguise. Yet this also was not Faetalis' intent. Faetalis asked them to look inside themselves to discover the 'human within'. This was an ironic, almost blasphemous joke for Gammaton. In her egg state, she was an insectoid neural parasite residing within a humanoid shell. If anything, she was was often in the form of a human, but was truly an insect deep inside all along, not the other way around. She thought back to the minor argument she had just had with Cormac. Gammaton had no issue pretending to be a human, but to actually be such an inferior creature felt beneath her. Not only did Gammaton believe that insects were far superior to other animal kingdoms, even among mammals, humans ranked pretty low in Gammaton's eyes.

And yet, in both Yggdrasil and in this New World, it was humans that reigned as the apex species. Why had Gammaton never considered this obvious flaw in nature's design? Gammaton was suddenly fueled by a desire to 'correct' this evolutionary fallacy, but thoughts of evolution invariably turned her mind towards GrillBears, her creator. He had been human too. Faetalis, though ascended, is human as well. GrillBears had created Gammaton to be a capable warrior and general, but her had also made her something of an alchemist, instead of blind obedience alone, he made her curious about the world, and fascinated by the potential of life. He spent his free time experimenting and showing her his handiwork. She didn't understand at the time, she merely saw the expediency of using his research to make her soldiers more powerful for the sake of Infactorium's military glory. She did not at the time partake in the joy of discovery. Yet now she finds herself lounging in Hivehill, once she had received orders from Faetalis and relayed those orders to her workers, Gammaton was bored. Bored with simple obedience.

Gammaton wanted something; and as a lepidopteran, the answer was simple, she wanted to evolve. And she thought that this desire was merely the instinctual need to continue her metamorphic cycle of rebirth, but perhaps it was telling that her disdain for humanity was probably due in part to jealousy. Why were humans the dominant species in both worlds? But then, did that mean that Gammaton wanted to become human? The thought disgusted her, but it made her wonder, what did a human want? Her mind returned to GrillBears. During one of his experiments he had mentioned another world off-handedly to Gammaton. He had mused on why he enjoyed being in Yggdrasil so much, to the detriment of the time he spent in the 'other world'. His answer was simple, in Yggdrasil, he could be anything he wanted to be, do anything he wanted to do. In Yggdrasil, he could experiment on animals and...'play God'.

As a general, discipline was everything to Gammaton; discipline and obedience. Sure, she was allowed to be imaginative when it came to elaborate strategies, but her goal had always aligned with what her superiors wanted of her. Gammaton had always suppressed her ambition, her selfish desire. But here, now, Gammaton realized that she wanted the same thing humans wanted, and this was the 'human' inside of her. Gammaton didn't want to be human, but a human didn't want to be human either. A human wanted to be God, and so too, did Gammaton.

Yet this did not answer the the very real problem at hand, Gammaton was to devise a look that she would feel most comfortable and request Faetalis to tailor the disguise. Gammaton wasn't sure if Faetalis could fashion a disguise that was the very concept of a God, but even if she could, it wouldn't be much of a disguise. No, for now, Gammaton had to quell her ambitions. Apotheosis would come much, much later. It was not yet time for ambition and grandeur. But there was a change, Gammaton found herself identifying more with the clerical and pharmaceutical aspects of her nature more than the military; the alchemist side of her personality, for is an alchemist not one who seeks God through science? One who yearns for the secrets of the universe, who would challenge nature and turn lead into gold? Was not Faetalis, the closest thing to a God in Gammaton's eyes, not herself an alchemist of sorts?

Gammaton imagined, in her minds eye, the image of a potion-seller, but one unsatisfied with her station, and therefore dressed regally and opulently, with a devious twinkle in her eye. The queen of her own ivory tower, and an intellectual who defied outdated philosophies, one who could sacrifice anything in the pursuit of evolution.

Gammaton crossed her many segmented arms in contemplation. "Lady Faetalis, your craft is far beyond our understanding. Will a verbal description suffice to be translated into a visual shape? Would that you were a neural parasite too, then I could let you consume a chunk of my brain to convey the image I have in mind."

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