Tatterdemalion

Breathless Dead

And breathe.

Redana rolls on the cheaply tiled palace floor, taking desperate gulps of air through her nose. Breathing was difficult for a moment there, because there was fur in her nose. Sweaty, matted, drooly fur. And Bella’s hand was iron-firm, and really didn’t want her lifting her head to take a breath that wasn’t All Bella All The Time, and Bella herself was, was the opposite of iron-firm, because she was soft and yielding and enveloping like Poseidon’s waves, that must be what drowning felt like, soft and sweet and insistent, feeling each breath, in and out like the lapping tides, like the lapping tides.

Redana burns. Her nostrils flare. She strains sloppily against the chains, the ones that betrayed her and set Bella free, simply to strain and not lie there uselessly. She grinds against the leather set between her teeth and growls like a Servitor. Her shirt is falling to pieces, and the air is hot and wet on her skin, slick with sweat.

She’s failing them. She’s failing everyone. Bella and Vasilia and Epistia. She made promises! Let her keep them, please! Let her throw herself between the cats, take the blows she’s always been strong enough to take, because she can’t bear to see her captain and her (former) best friend fighting!

Zeus! Father! Why have you looked away? Is it because she let Bella tear out Jas’o’s throat, let her run wild off the leash? Is it because she failed some test? Or does your wife, her stepmother, hold you back by the wrist, by the throat? Do you struggle to breathe in her grasp, too? Does she envelop you like the sea so that your eyes are blind and your ears are deaf and your tongue is a cry of Hera, Hera, Hera?

Is your heart a wounded thing yearning for destruction, too?

Masks: BABYLON MUST FALL

Anathet!

[No!! No!!] Tia screams the words inside your head, frantic. There is no way for her to bar your passage physically, so she compensates by trying to boil your brain. [They will kill you!! Not allowed!! Mine!!! This is mine!!!] She spreads her arms wide, opens her mouth in a silent scream, and her hair writhes like a nest of snakes. Fear and distress blind her (is that insensitive to say?) to what she's doing to you, and vaguely you hear discomfort from below: the psychic backwash is affecting the Annunaki, too.

Take a Powerful Blow, Anathet.

***

Canada!

A laser bolt pings off your vambrace. Jezcha ab-Marduk knows exactly one (1) response to what's happening right now and that's to draw a sidearm and shoot at you. You bat it away reflexively, as if the laser bolt was a naughty kitten, but then the janissaries see that as their cue and turn, muskets raised, heads lowered away from your searing light, and begin to open fire, too. You are very quickly the center of a storm of lasers, about a third of which come anywhere near you. But still, it's a hell of a barrage.

Then it stops, all of a sudden.

No, it doesn't. They're still firing. But the laser bolts are failing to cross that final distance. Space yawns in a sudden vast abyss as they approach you but are unable to reach you.

"DISARM."

Laser muskets clatter to the engraved platform, and even Jezcha flings her pistol, albeit in your direction. It spins uselessly in that forever approach. Shamash, Breaker of Horses, raises one gauntleted hand and snaps his fingers, and space resumes its normal dimensions all at once. Which means that all those lasers suddenly can hit their destination.

***

Marianne!

Canada's a big girl, she can handle some lasers and a pistol thrown at her head. No, watch this, the false god and the true. Watch as Shamash stomps forward in their ridiculous panoply, all gold and gilt. The anticipation coils around them, their own delight at seeing a worthy challenge, yes, yes! It is familiar, non? What can challenge a demiurge but a god?

"I was worried I would have to hunt you through the warrens," Shamash says with their false voice. What does it sound like underneath that head they have pulled over their own? "But here you are. The one from my dreams." What a fright they must have had, yes, yes! They must have summoned up all of their magi and charlatans and poets in order to interpret the dreams of that burning eye, laying bare their mouse-soul. "I accept your challenge, but this is unworthy of us."

They offer their hand, heedless of the gasping from the groveling Annunaki. "Come, Canada Taliv. I will drown you in wines. I will garrote you in garlands. Be my sacred offering, feasted and fattened."

Breathless Dead

“STTPH TKKNGG BGHHT MHHPH! Mmm rghhh hhrrrr!!”

Redana squirms in the chains wrapped around her, trying to work free, and Bella effortlessly shifts her in her arms and presses her tighter against her chest[1]. Claws dig ungently into her shoulder, saying: stay down, Princess. When did Bella get so strong? She always used to go so red in the face just thinking about helping with Olympic training. Oh, no, Dany, I can’t get sweaaatttyyy! Noooo, Dany, don’t put me in a headlock!! Noooooo, Dany, I don’t want to race even if I take off my high heels!!! How did she get this strong?

She glares helplessly over her shoulder (and Bella’s firm, flexed arm) at Alexa. Bella doesn’t believe in her. Mynx doesn’t believe in her. And not even Alexa, the brave and beautiful statue, believes in her. Instead, they all think she’s a silly little girl. Keep her quiet, talk over her muffled protests, ignore every time she’s told them all about her hope for mankind...

She can feel the hot, treacherous pressure in her eyes. Stop! Stop it! She’s not a naughty child getting lectured for sneaking out into the city, she is an adult who knows exactly what she’s getting herself into! Stop, no, stop crying, stop it, stop it...

***

”Mistress?”

Redana awkwardly shuffles deeper into the closet and takes a deep, sniffly breath through her nose. There’s nothing Bella can say that would make it any better. She hurts inside like Professor Mekhan took a hammer to her chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She’s so stupid! The names of battles and dominions and scientists boiled under her stylus, and now here she is. In the dark, where she can hurt as long as she wants.

Bella headbutts her shoulder with a shuffle of laces on all fours, gently purring. Redana helplessly wraps an arm around her and pulls her in close. Bella is hot and soft and the sound of her purring fills the world, louder than the unbecoming sniffles and gasps of her princess.

“When I’m sad, I know just what to do,” Bella sings, and it’s so pretty. Dany closes her throbbing eyes to listen to that famous soldiers’ song. “I take all of my pride and tell it to stand true! I set my feet and don’t retreat and make my heart stand strong; against me break the feeble waves...”

“...of that inconstant throng,” Redana finishes, her voice scratchy and not pretty at all. Not like Bella’s. Bella rubs her cheek against her Dany’s shoulder and purrs even louder.

“You can do anything,” Bella says, placing one hand on Dany’s. They’re both so hot, burning up together. “Just gather all your spirit in your chest and let it be your strength.”

“You’ve got more room for the spirit,” Redana weakly jokes, and starts giggling at Bella’s flustered sputter. Bella’s an early bloomer, but one day, Dany’s going to be just as impressive as her mother, she just knows it...

***

Redana closes her wet eyes and gathers up all of her spirit in her chest. She compresses it, makes it as hard and steady as stone. Against her break the waves of doubt and disbelief; she believes in herself, and that’s all that matters. “Y’rrr nghht,” she says proudly and incomprehensibly. “W’rrrr gnnnph tmmph ffffnnn’ Ghhhh fffhhhhrrr huuuuh lkkkkttt hhrrr nnnn’!”

She pushes herself back up, and Bella pulls her right back down, and she defiantly kicks her legs in the air. She’s not giving up! She is never giving up, Bella! And if you want to learn who taught her that, go look in a mirror!!

***

[1]: Oh blessed Muse, give me leave to one day retire to that sweet-scented valley, that cleft in the blessed mountains; there I will let my heart rest from its torments and lay down my wearied bones.
— Noa Nox, Sibyl-Poetess of Dramatta.

Breathless Dead

CRACK.

Redana's head is white noise. Underneath the bright white of that kerchief (and the darker white where it has already been absorbent) her cheeks are so flushed a hypothetical observer could see them from the other side of the room. She is staring at nothing in particular, her Auspex giving her garbage data about the room that might as well be a jammed transmission for all the sense it's making, and her shirt is threatening to make its escape, hiking up around her shivering shoulders.

Mynx just hit her. Mynx just hit her. And she can't raise her forearms to block off another blow and watch for an opening for a jab, throw the shapeshifter off balance. Mynx just hit her and she can't do anything about it. There's nothing for her to do, no way that she can figure out what to do, no way to escalate into wrestling where she'll win no matter what Mynx tries to turn into, they've tested that one out time and time again, all she can do is be. Be slapped. Be gagged. Be quiet.

CRACK.

Redana bends her knees and tries instinctively to bring them up defensively. There's little give, and that's because she's pulling Bella's shins up with her. It's a miracle she's able to raise them even an inch without leverage. But she can't stop Mynx from doing that again. Her writhing fingers hook onto Bella's and tug with frantic, panicked energy, like the blind giants of Nessus VII.

For a moment, a terrible sequence unfolds in front of her. If something goes wrong, if her gift fails her, if she waited too long and Mynx knocks her out with one of her venoms...

Gold to match her hair. An ornate collar and an outfit like the ones in the holonovels that Bella always 'accidentally cleared away' when she found them while cleaning Redana's quarters. Pouring the King a glass of wine, eyes downcast. Because if she looked up, she'd see everyone looking at her, and then she'd melt right through the floor. And then the King would put one arm around her waist and pull her in for a

for a

he'd kiss

ptah.

The spittle hits her cheek just below her eye and trickles down, cool against her burning skin. Every time she breathes in she can smell Bella. Bella's fur. Bella's mouth. She's burning up. She's becoming a sun. She's going to ignite and become another star, right here and now. The pressure inside her is intolerable. All her muscles are seizing up, and the gag over her lips, pushed up against her nose, is wet, and her cheek is wet, and the world is hot and wet and she squeezes Bella's fingers hard, hard, and her knees won't come up to protect her. She's defenseless.

She's making noise. It's, it's the muffling, the layering, that makes it sound desperate. She can't lift her eyes. Go, her nerves sing, go go go, run so you can be chased. Her every nerve demands that she run, wounded leg or no. And she can already imagine Mynx bringing her down, pouncing, with claws and purring--

CRACK.

Bella's good. Ha, funny, because Bella's been naaaaughty! But Mynx is calling her good. In that voice. Would it be such a bad thing if she held Redana's chin and said it? Good. Good prisoner. Good girl. Haha! Funny! It'd just be like Bella calling her a good student, a good athlete, her voice so alive and high and smiling.

But Bella never meant it, did she? She was another guard the whole time. She never meant it. So what does it matter if Mynx says it too? Maybe she wants Mynx to say it! And then after she hears it she can escape, she really can escape, she really truly will and she's taking everyone with her, she really can stand up to her Bella and her Mynx, and--

SLAM.

Mynx's attention isn't on her now. Mynx is distracted. And someone else is in the room and oh it's you it's the statue it's Alexa and she's not thinking again, she's just got to prove that she was lulling Mynx into a false sense of security and buying time the whole time until Alexa her awesome teammate showed up, she definitely does not need Alexa to sit on her and refuse to let her go anywhere exciting again, so it is time yes absolutely time to get! out! of! this!!

[Redana, Useless Lesbian, has rolled a 4 on Get Away.]

Masks: BABYLON MUST FALL

Anathet!

[You must hide,] Tia thinks sternly at you, but you can feel the fear roiling underneath the surface. The kind of fear that causes people to lash out and panic. [You may be brave after They leave. Yes. That is when you may be brave. Not now. Not like this. I am not allowing you to be brave.] She crosses her arms and plants herself right in front of you.

"...the parade will be the First Regiment..." Aha! Yes! Your instincts were good: the Seneschal is hashing out the last of his plans for Shamash's triumph right here and now. Down in the bowl of the library, there are probably two or three of his peers, prepping and sending off their last-minute orders. If only you could pretend to be one of them! Or somehow sneak bad information in! But you're definitely not getting off any plans, clever or otherwise, with Tia being so overprotective. Who knows what she might do if you press her?

***

Team Mirrors!

The Sacred Field has been brought up from the depths of the Temple of Shamash, a vast circle of tempered brass and gold etched with holy geometries, and here the chariots make their final approaches. They, amusingly enough, resemble nothing more than George Lucas's podracers, with two tethered engines suspending a very dangerous energy field between them, crackling and lashing plasma, connected to an ornate car. Don't be fooled: they evaded missiles with ease and tore fighter jets out of the sky during the invasion.

There are two nobles here, along with their retinues, to welcome the High God: Asahel ab-Shamash, the Huntsman of Caphtor, and Jezcha ab-Marduk, here as a representative of her father. A full company of janissaries stand by as an honor guard. You arrive on the open hangar as Shamash's chariot touches down, and the Annunaki fall to their knees, shimmering shadows suddenly at half height. (Their retinues grovel on their faces.) The chariot's portal dilates, and Shamash unfolds from it.

They're eight fucking feet tall.

This is the first time either of you have seen one of the elusive High Gods, and it's a shock to realize that their superhuman depiction in Annunaki art might not just be artistic license. There isn't a hint of skin to be seen (and you can see them far too clearly, as if only a faint gauze separated you from them), just gleaming black and burning gold and a helmet shaped like a screaming horse. From every reflective surface nearby -- every tracking panel, every bowl of offered wine, every golden decoration on the banners of the city -- comes the sound of dying cavalry charges, or else of chariot engines shearing themselves apart. It's difficult to tell.

They are hesitant a moment, staring out at the assembly before them, but it's impossible to say whether they also stare at you. You can see the plaits of their helmet lashing in the backwash of the engines, the sway of the fleet keys upon their intricately graved breastplate, and the minutest twitch in the gauntleted hands, each one the size of your head, one at their side and one on the chariot.

They saw you once before, Canada. Was it a stupid, doomed plan to think that you could sneak up on them again? Does your nerve hold in that moment?

Their power is not like yours, Marianne. You can smell it. It is not even simply dead, it is other, alien. If this behemoth has any power in your land, it is the power of tools and devices and tricks. This "god" is not a deity here, even if it can see you, even if it can touch you. You belong here. It does not.

Breathless Dead

Ack! Blppph! Mynx, why is that handkerchief already wet? Reusing a handkerchief on the Imperial Princess is illegal!

...well, it isn’t, but it should be! And it can be! Let’s put a pin in that! One day, there will be an official ordinance outlawing the use of sweaty, gross handkerchiefs on royal lips! And the fact that Mynx is breaking this pre-law will get her punished terribly!

Yes, when she takes Bella and Mynx back to the ship, she is going to scold Mynx in front of the entire crew! And she’ll have to wear a sign that says NAUGHTY SERVITOR! That’ll teach her to be so naughty!! And...

W-what’s with that smile, Mynx? Wait, you’re not allowed to discipline a princess!! Bella! Bella!! “Dnn’t hyyu drrrr,” Redana burbles, and, oh no, oh no, here comes the blush! Why is her face so vulnerable to blushes? Bella’s tail is squeezing her tightly and Mynx is leaning in and her face is starting to get hot, and, gosh, where is Alexa anyway??

She starts to realize that, um, Mynx’s ideas of discipline might not involve being told to stand in a corner and think about what she did.

Masks: BABYLON MUST FALL

Anathet!

Getting inside the library is easy. There's always the thrill of risk: for all that you have planned things out, there's still the chance that some guard, or even a guest or servant, might be in the abandoned corner of the library you are sneaking into. Does that make you anxious or does it fill you with energy?

Either way, you're inside. You're on one of the upper rings of the library: it radiates outwards and upwards from a luxurious reading area on the ground floor. Tablets are tightly packed on the shelves, but there are a multitude of niches for paintings, statues, and trophies, much more than you'd expect from a human library. (It's the fact that they pack all that information onto a tablet, you see. Gives them room to show off.)

There's conversation close by, and you start towards it, only to come face-to-face with Tia immediately, and that's not a face you want inches from yours all of a sudden. It's a jump scare, to be honest. How do you handle the sudden surprise?

***

Team Mirrors!

There are no people here. Only their shades. In the mirrors they are a strange menagerie, but here, in the Mirror-Margravate, they are indistinct and trembling shadows that bend and warp as you pass through them. (On the streets of Caphtor, Annunaki feel a chill run down their spine and step aside without thinking. Guard patrols unconsciously bend their paths to avoid the sense of being watched by many burning eyes. Gardeners clutch their shears tighter, their collars itching about their necks.)

The wind, too, is only here. It is cold and dry, wailing down the streets. In the neon-blue sky, painfully vivid, chariots scream and roar in their final landing approach. You are on your way now to the landing pad to get a first-hand look at Shamash's shadow.

Fellowship: The Heart

Team Train!

The song snaps into cessation as the antisirens throw themselves upon the thrown book. The whole Heart shudders from the moment the cover is swung open, or so it feels. They don't notice, gorging themselves upon the pages. It would be a good idea to get down before whatever happens to them catches you up in the crossfire.

One terrifying train rappel later, you've managed the Descent. At the bottom of the drain the world opens up into a desert. Each grain of sand is a bit of rust, and out of the dunes jut hideous iron buildings clawing at the sky. (The sky is false. It is yellow-white, and the glittering stars are black. It bulges like the shell of an egg.) Off in the distance stand the feet of a statue; there is a plaque beneath it. Doubtless it is telling you to look, ye mighty, and despair.

At the other end of the desert is a riotous jungle that will allow you to Descend, if Jackdaw's maps are correct. Now you must simply cross these dunes. Other than the Worms, all you must worry about is starburn and heat exhaustion, dwindling supplies and sand madness, not to mention the mirages.

Jackdaw, Lucien, tell us about the night that you spent cooking together.

Ailee, Coleman, tell us about the petty argument you had.

Breathless Dead

“MNNX???”

To say Redana is flabbergasted is an insult to flabbers, probably. How is Mynx here? Oh, wait. She was probably working with Bella all along. Who Redana is still mad at! Don’t get it twisted! But at least... at least they were working together for once. At least Bella had a plan to save her that wasn’t relying entirely on herself. And now that Mynx was going to let them free and help them escape and—

Sorry, what?

“Nnnh! Mnnx! Dnn’t huu drrrr!!” Redana glares! She furrows her brows together and gives her best impression of the Empress, despite (or because of) her shirtlessness, right up until Mynx leans in and bites her and— “MMMMHMHMHMHMMMPH~!!”

Mynx is a fiend! A devil! A tormentor from the pits of Tartarus! She knows that is exactly where Redana is vulnerable. Helpless. Ticklish. Redana squeals and grabs frantically, desperately, at Bella’s fingers, which she squeezes like a vice because Mynx is holding her still and she can’t pull her knees up to her chest and all of this frantic be elsewhere energy has to go somewhere.

While Mynx talks to Bella, Redana is wetly panting, making a mess all over her lack of shirt and clinging to Bella’s fingers. When she escapes— because she is, she can’t be held by anything, that’s what Zeus promised her— she’s going to have her revenge!! There will be pinning, Mynx! And noogies!!

From the sound of it, Mynx is pulling a prank on Bella anyway. But the joke’s on her, because Bella? Bella’s coming with her Princess. And so will Miss Ticklefangs over here!!

Chuubo's GMD: Love and Shattered Alchemy

[Storytime: 3/9
Adventure GET: 5/21
Up to Date: 1/15
Something To Deal With 2]

"After her!" Sessily is hard to steer, and I have to frantically wave my arms to keep my balance as we turn and chase after you, Dulcy! Don't think you're getting away that easily! Especially at the speed you're moving, which is keeping pace with a concussed and very sleepy snail. That snail's careening all over the sidewalk at half a mile an hour, can barely keep its eyes open, and doesn't even really look forward to arriving at its destination, which is the snail doctor's office, because it's getting a salt removal, and that really stings, and it's not looking forward to its snailsthetic which always makes it light-headed after an operation, and the snail's still keeping up with you, so really it's no wonder that we're able to catch up pretty quickly.

"Well, yeah," I say, leaning one elbow precariously on your head in a familiar and friendly manner. "A giant snake! A real one would be inconvenient to get out of the lake at this time of year, and besides, the handling requirements are killer! So we need you to whip up a mechanical one for us so we can win the competition!"