Member
Noctis
Thanqol
Phoe
rabidbacon
Damycles
Cao the Exiled
Bugman
shylarah
Guardian Angel Haruki
AnarionEclair!
The Paladin is indeed quite flushed, and while she’s trying to keep glaring at you, her smile betrays her, as does the thump of her tail on the tiles of the street. She’s excited, in the way that the really competitive maids get when they lose, when they have the opportunity to “brat.”
“Except you’re not,” she says, propping herself up. A lock of hair has fallen into her face, and she ineffectually tries to blow it out. “You’re going to clean the place, sure, but then you’re going to use that to justify forcing the owner to give you more information on Sister Tammithyn Murr. And she asked me for help, because you aren’t going to stop unless someone stops you.”
She looks back up at the window. “You hear that, punk? The Miss Maid is the bad girl, actually.”
She stands, spins the glaive, moves back into a ready stance. “So. As I was saying: I’ll do this all night if I have to. I’m not in the habit of disappointing a habit, and I don’t back down in the face of bullying maid thugs.”
Her tail swishes over the tiles. She bares her teeth in what she likely thinks is defiance. She is so eager for another attempt to beat you, to prove that she even can, that it’s practically screaming out of her.
In fact, it’s vaguely familiar? Like you’ve met this Paladin somewhere before. But she’s definitely not in your notebook, so I’m just talking nonsense.
Yuki!
You’re in the middle of the joyful pack, and the reaction among a lot of them when you bound heedlessly is to tense up, reach out for a heartblade, and then relax. Could be because you’re, you know, Yuki Edogawa. Or it might be because this woman can definitely look after herself.
Juniper pops up like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m so sorry she doesn’t know what she’s doing Yuki what are you thinking you can’t just—“ This old woman holds up her hand and Juniper clamps her jaw shut, ears low and eyes wide.
“You are Edogawa,” the woman says. “Savior of Crevas.” She’s evaluating you the way that a teacher would, or some other adult who’s been put in charge of you. Or the way that someone playing chess might evaluate a queen who just launched herself to the other side of the board, into threat from multiple angles. (Also, you definitely saved all of Thellamie, but she’s emphasizing Crevas to underline your ties to the people here, and not in a good way.) “What this means is that your friend is not uncontested.”
There is fire in the way she says it— competitive fire, like when you’re talking to Aadya. She’s not going to let Sulochana take this crown without a serious fight.
But then she dismissively waves one hand and Juniper drags you to the side. “Yuki, the Baygum— Olesya— we didn’t expect—“
“You didn’t expect,” the presumptive Baygum says. Her voice is (forgive the pun) husky; she can’t be much older than you. “The Khatun did.” And what’s really interesting about that is that you, Yuki Edogawa, are in a unique position to recognize the “Mom signed me up for softball, ballet and drama club” voice.
Just then, there’s a wet slap that carries over the hubbub of the crowd. A large, greasy-looking bird has just landed on Civelia’s head.
Tsane!
In the beginning, the stars danced in the heavens. The world below was formless, empty; nothing moved over the face of the deeps, and the stars paid it no heed. There, light layered over light.
Nothing emerged from the world, and it had no shape or color, and the shape it did not have was a raven, and the color it did not have was white. It spread the wings it did not have and flew up into heaven.
There, it drowned in light, until its lack of white burned away and all that was left was black charcoal. There, it was frozen in place, until its lack of shape shattered and what was left tumbled out of heaven. And as it fell, light fell like rain from its feathers, and where the light fell, there things existed.
One among the stars turned his head and looked down at where the raven had fallen, and he saw existence struggling to continue. So he chose to fall using the path that the raven had left behind, descending among the first people to show them the shape of the world; and where he shone, there were rivers, and forests, and mountains, and he made firm the shapes of these things, so that they did not melt away, because the light stayed within them. “It is better to Be than to Be Not,” he said.
Then the darkness rose in answer, and where the light touched it, there was the shape of a dragon. “It is better to Be Not than to Be,” she declared, and made war then against the shapes of the world. Mountains she flattened, rivers she drank, forests she uprooted, and where she went, the shapes of things came undone, but still the light remained. This alone she could not undo.
And you know, because you have done your due research, that Sayanastia’s message at the beginning of the world is elsewhere remembered as "to exist is to suffer. To not exist must be not to suffer.” This is controversial even to record outside sources such as The Compromise of Heaven, which suggests that the First Fallen partially conceded Sayanastia’s point, and after she was defeated, ultimately spent all of his inner light working to reduce suffering in the world that he had shaped.
But this is going off topic.
RAVEN (Grandfather— Lightbringer— Binatured—): instigator of creation. Supposedly the only created being capable of vaulting the Sun and Moon to reach heaven. Thus considered sidereal herald, e.g., in bearing news of the crimes of the Fallen. (cf. “Burn the Messenger: Raven, Mediation, and the Dilemma of Verification.”) Reputedly, frequent visits to heaven maintain immortality, thus avoiding the Rebirth Wheel Nature of mythic figures such as the Hero of Ages, the Goddess of Civilization and the Dark Dragon.
Kalentia!
It’s a big, soggy bird that is glistening. Not just big in size; it looks fat, bloated, like a sponge used to soak up water. When Civelia extends her arm regally and it hops down, it leaves behind that glisten, that light.
Raw, pure(?) starlight. Wring this bird out and you could power all a city’s a magical needs for years. Decades, maybe.
“Split a crown, our Goddess has! How embarrassing! How embarrassing! Awk! Awk!” The voice issuing from that beak is unpleasantly wet, interspersed with noises like it’s trying to regurgitate a pellet.
The bird puffs itself up quite suddenly, fixing you (the crowd behind you? or just you?) with a beady eye. “Hear you now the word of the stars! The Crown of Light shall be bestowed on she who tames the Golden Fawn!”
Tsane!
GOLDEN FAWN: goblin. Tamed by the Hero of Ages as a gift for the Goddess of Civilization. Purportedly brought good fortune to owners. Common symbol of venturer guilds: prosperity won from the Outside. Also common romantic motif: used as comparison for beloved as treasured, prized, improving lover’s life.
Yuki!
“This is unfair!” Sulochana is uncoiling, rising to an impressive height, glowering at this very, very weird bird. The halo around her head (and the Baygum’s head, for that matter) has already faded away. “A contest of hunting and taming in the Outside? When I am competing against this…” She clamps down on an insult. “On this pack of venturers?”
Jeers and laughter arise from the pack all around you: challenges, invitations to show her how it’s done, invitations for her to come be tamed (that one particularly from the Nagi huntress).
The bird lets out another series of choking, hacking noises. Laughter, maybe?
“The Golden Fawn is here with you tonight, though you know him not! Awk! Awk!”
And the bird flaps its wings. Eventually, this allows for liftoff. It’s like a sight gag out of a Studio Ghibli movie: this soggy bird flapping as hard as it can, at high speed, to slowly gain elevation like a helicopter. At a certain point it seems to have gotten enough height, and it catches the wind on its wings, circling around the crowd three times, before diving down towards a viewing veranda on the edge of the plaza.
Hazel!
This? This is the nightmare scenario (and only the haze of your head is stopping you from combusting on the spot, probably). There is a bird. A big, wet, heavy bird. It is on your head. And everyone was watching the bird, which means that now everyone is staring up at you, and you can’t even explain that surely he must have made some sort of Bird Mistake (Birstake) because of the gag, and also because of how squished and helpless you are, you little boytoy, you.
“Behold! Your Golden Fawn, come round again! Claim him! Tame him! Prove that he is yours! These are the acts of the true queen! Awk, awk!”
The sensation of light trickling into your hair, down the back of your neck, is strange. It is cool, and invigorating, and tingly. But it’s nothing compared to the sensation of the light soaking into your antlers as the bird wraps its wings around them in a very unbirdlike manner, and they begin to shine.
Purnima grabs the railing, grinning. “You see that, Sulochana? I, Purnima Karn-Pana, have the Golden Fawn, and I shall be the Queen of Light! Despite all your schemes and treacheries, you’ve lost, you conniving bit—“
Yuki!
You wanted to know about the Khatun?
The Khatun is a huntress at heart.
You know, even before you look, that she’s got an arrow nocked. She’s drawn the recurved heartbow’s string back to her cheek already— sights for the Nagi holding Hazel— and looses.
“Fetch!”
The entire pack surges forward, drawing their heartweapons— save Juniper and the Baygum, who are on you, and it’s impossible to tell whether they’ve got their hands on you because they’re trying to save you from being trampled or because the pack needs a bargaining chip. Like, Juniper’s hugging you, but she’s also pinning your arms, and it’s hard to tell if that’s intentional or not!
Hazel!
The arrow goes right through Purnima’s head, splintering into shards of silver-black light on the other side.
Her eyes roll back, showing the whites, and with a groan she flops over the railing. Fortunately, there’s enough of her here on the couch that she’s in no danger of actually toppling over the railing, and all her muscles are going slack, meaning that you can wriggle out of her grasp! Yay! Also, oh no!
The bird hops onto her coils and gives you a little bird shrug, like, whatcha gonna do? Not its call. Will of the stars and all that.
In the plaza below, the snakegirl who was with Yuki (Sulochana, surely) is rallying city guardsmen around her, trying to physically block the venturer-pack from reaching you. But that’s not going to buy you a lot of time. They’re probably good at climbing.
(And there are a lot of people down there who really weren’t expecting to be in the middle of a fight between a bunch of wolfgirls and snakegirls today, so there’s screaming and panic and people are fleeing the plaza, and it feels, irrationally, like it’s your fault?)
Rurik!
Well, there’s what just happened. From the Raven’s beak to your lips.
And if all this wasn’t enough, a Paladin standing guard over the ceremonial ground collapses to the ground behind you.
A Maid-Knight steps over the fallen Paladin. She is wearing the traditional regalia of the Order of the Aurora, but also an Aestivali carnival mask: an exaggerated laughing face in black and white. She is also framed by a halo— but this one is just her carrot-orange curls forced into a ponytail.
She has in her hand a heartfan— an unusual close-range weapon. She mockingly curtseys, and then lunges for Civelia.
The Paladin is indeed quite flushed, and while she’s trying to keep glaring at you, her smile betrays her, as does the thump of her tail on the tiles of the street. She’s excited, in the way that the really competitive maids get when they lose, when they have the opportunity to “brat.”
“Except you’re not,” she says, propping herself up. A lock of hair has fallen into her face, and she ineffectually tries to blow it out. “You’re going to clean the place, sure, but then you’re going to use that to justify forcing the owner to give you more information on Sister Tammithyn Murr. And she asked me for help, because you aren’t going to stop unless someone stops you.”
She looks back up at the window. “You hear that, punk? The Miss Maid is the bad girl, actually.”
She stands, spins the glaive, moves back into a ready stance. “So. As I was saying: I’ll do this all night if I have to. I’m not in the habit of disappointing a habit, and I don’t back down in the face of bullying maid thugs.”
Her tail swishes over the tiles. She bares her teeth in what she likely thinks is defiance. She is so eager for another attempt to beat you, to prove that she even can, that it’s practically screaming out of her.
In fact, it’s vaguely familiar? Like you’ve met this Paladin somewhere before. But she’s definitely not in your notebook, so I’m just talking nonsense.
Yuki!
You’re in the middle of the joyful pack, and the reaction among a lot of them when you bound heedlessly is to tense up, reach out for a heartblade, and then relax. Could be because you’re, you know, Yuki Edogawa. Or it might be because this woman can definitely look after herself.
Juniper pops up like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m so sorry she doesn’t know what she’s doing Yuki what are you thinking you can’t just—“ This old woman holds up her hand and Juniper clamps her jaw shut, ears low and eyes wide.
“You are Edogawa,” the woman says. “Savior of Crevas.” She’s evaluating you the way that a teacher would, or some other adult who’s been put in charge of you. Or the way that someone playing chess might evaluate a queen who just launched herself to the other side of the board, into threat from multiple angles. (Also, you definitely saved all of Thellamie, but she’s emphasizing Crevas to underline your ties to the people here, and not in a good way.) “What this means is that your friend is not uncontested.”
There is fire in the way she says it— competitive fire, like when you’re talking to Aadya. She’s not going to let Sulochana take this crown without a serious fight.
But then she dismissively waves one hand and Juniper drags you to the side. “Yuki, the Baygum— Olesya— we didn’t expect—“
“You didn’t expect,” the presumptive Baygum says. Her voice is (forgive the pun) husky; she can’t be much older than you. “The Khatun did.” And what’s really interesting about that is that you, Yuki Edogawa, are in a unique position to recognize the “Mom signed me up for softball, ballet and drama club” voice.
Just then, there’s a wet slap that carries over the hubbub of the crowd. A large, greasy-looking bird has just landed on Civelia’s head.
Tsane!
In the beginning, the stars danced in the heavens. The world below was formless, empty; nothing moved over the face of the deeps, and the stars paid it no heed. There, light layered over light.
Nothing emerged from the world, and it had no shape or color, and the shape it did not have was a raven, and the color it did not have was white. It spread the wings it did not have and flew up into heaven.
There, it drowned in light, until its lack of white burned away and all that was left was black charcoal. There, it was frozen in place, until its lack of shape shattered and what was left tumbled out of heaven. And as it fell, light fell like rain from its feathers, and where the light fell, there things existed.
One among the stars turned his head and looked down at where the raven had fallen, and he saw existence struggling to continue. So he chose to fall using the path that the raven had left behind, descending among the first people to show them the shape of the world; and where he shone, there were rivers, and forests, and mountains, and he made firm the shapes of these things, so that they did not melt away, because the light stayed within them. “It is better to Be than to Be Not,” he said.
Then the darkness rose in answer, and where the light touched it, there was the shape of a dragon. “It is better to Be Not than to Be,” she declared, and made war then against the shapes of the world. Mountains she flattened, rivers she drank, forests she uprooted, and where she went, the shapes of things came undone, but still the light remained. This alone she could not undo.
And you know, because you have done your due research, that Sayanastia’s message at the beginning of the world is elsewhere remembered as "to exist is to suffer. To not exist must be not to suffer.” This is controversial even to record outside sources such as The Compromise of Heaven, which suggests that the First Fallen partially conceded Sayanastia’s point, and after she was defeated, ultimately spent all of his inner light working to reduce suffering in the world that he had shaped.
But this is going off topic.
RAVEN (Grandfather— Lightbringer— Binatured—): instigator of creation. Supposedly the only created being capable of vaulting the Sun and Moon to reach heaven. Thus considered sidereal herald, e.g., in bearing news of the crimes of the Fallen. (cf. “Burn the Messenger: Raven, Mediation, and the Dilemma of Verification.”) Reputedly, frequent visits to heaven maintain immortality, thus avoiding the Rebirth Wheel Nature of mythic figures such as the Hero of Ages, the Goddess of Civilization and the Dark Dragon.
Kalentia!
It’s a big, soggy bird that is glistening. Not just big in size; it looks fat, bloated, like a sponge used to soak up water. When Civelia extends her arm regally and it hops down, it leaves behind that glisten, that light.
Raw, pure(?) starlight. Wring this bird out and you could power all a city’s a magical needs for years. Decades, maybe.
“Split a crown, our Goddess has! How embarrassing! How embarrassing! Awk! Awk!” The voice issuing from that beak is unpleasantly wet, interspersed with noises like it’s trying to regurgitate a pellet.
The bird puffs itself up quite suddenly, fixing you (the crowd behind you? or just you?) with a beady eye. “Hear you now the word of the stars! The Crown of Light shall be bestowed on she who tames the Golden Fawn!”
Tsane!
GOLDEN FAWN: goblin. Tamed by the Hero of Ages as a gift for the Goddess of Civilization. Purportedly brought good fortune to owners. Common symbol of venturer guilds: prosperity won from the Outside. Also common romantic motif: used as comparison for beloved as treasured, prized, improving lover’s life.
Yuki!
“This is unfair!” Sulochana is uncoiling, rising to an impressive height, glowering at this very, very weird bird. The halo around her head (and the Baygum’s head, for that matter) has already faded away. “A contest of hunting and taming in the Outside? When I am competing against this…” She clamps down on an insult. “On this pack of venturers?”
Jeers and laughter arise from the pack all around you: challenges, invitations to show her how it’s done, invitations for her to come be tamed (that one particularly from the Nagi huntress).
The bird lets out another series of choking, hacking noises. Laughter, maybe?
“The Golden Fawn is here with you tonight, though you know him not! Awk! Awk!”
And the bird flaps its wings. Eventually, this allows for liftoff. It’s like a sight gag out of a Studio Ghibli movie: this soggy bird flapping as hard as it can, at high speed, to slowly gain elevation like a helicopter. At a certain point it seems to have gotten enough height, and it catches the wind on its wings, circling around the crowd three times, before diving down towards a viewing veranda on the edge of the plaza.
Hazel!
This? This is the nightmare scenario (and only the haze of your head is stopping you from combusting on the spot, probably). There is a bird. A big, wet, heavy bird. It is on your head. And everyone was watching the bird, which means that now everyone is staring up at you, and you can’t even explain that surely he must have made some sort of Bird Mistake (Birstake) because of the gag, and also because of how squished and helpless you are, you little boytoy, you.
“Behold! Your Golden Fawn, come round again! Claim him! Tame him! Prove that he is yours! These are the acts of the true queen! Awk, awk!”
The sensation of light trickling into your hair, down the back of your neck, is strange. It is cool, and invigorating, and tingly. But it’s nothing compared to the sensation of the light soaking into your antlers as the bird wraps its wings around them in a very unbirdlike manner, and they begin to shine.
Purnima grabs the railing, grinning. “You see that, Sulochana? I, Purnima Karn-Pana, have the Golden Fawn, and I shall be the Queen of Light! Despite all your schemes and treacheries, you’ve lost, you conniving bit—“
Yuki!
You wanted to know about the Khatun?
The Khatun is a huntress at heart.
You know, even before you look, that she’s got an arrow nocked. She’s drawn the recurved heartbow’s string back to her cheek already— sights for the Nagi holding Hazel— and looses.
“Fetch!”
The entire pack surges forward, drawing their heartweapons— save Juniper and the Baygum, who are on you, and it’s impossible to tell whether they’ve got their hands on you because they’re trying to save you from being trampled or because the pack needs a bargaining chip. Like, Juniper’s hugging you, but she’s also pinning your arms, and it’s hard to tell if that’s intentional or not!
Hazel!
The arrow goes right through Purnima’s head, splintering into shards of silver-black light on the other side.
Her eyes roll back, showing the whites, and with a groan she flops over the railing. Fortunately, there’s enough of her here on the couch that she’s in no danger of actually toppling over the railing, and all her muscles are going slack, meaning that you can wriggle out of her grasp! Yay! Also, oh no!
The bird hops onto her coils and gives you a little bird shrug, like, whatcha gonna do? Not its call. Will of the stars and all that.
In the plaza below, the snakegirl who was with Yuki (Sulochana, surely) is rallying city guardsmen around her, trying to physically block the venturer-pack from reaching you. But that’s not going to buy you a lot of time. They’re probably good at climbing.
(And there are a lot of people down there who really weren’t expecting to be in the middle of a fight between a bunch of wolfgirls and snakegirls today, so there’s screaming and panic and people are fleeing the plaza, and it feels, irrationally, like it’s your fault?)
Rurik!
Well, there’s what just happened. From the Raven’s beak to your lips.
And if all this wasn’t enough, a Paladin standing guard over the ceremonial ground collapses to the ground behind you.
A Maid-Knight steps over the fallen Paladin. She is wearing the traditional regalia of the Order of the Aurora, but also an Aestivali carnival mask: an exaggerated laughing face in black and white. She is also framed by a halo— but this one is just her carrot-orange curls forced into a ponytail.
She has in her hand a heartfan— an unusual close-range weapon. She mockingly curtseys, and then lunges for Civelia.