Tuujaimaa

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

【Fandaniel si Louviere】

~"It is only in the glory of martial perfection that our souls truly shine. It is only in doing our duty that we transcend our fleeting mortality.”~

Hider

Name: Fandaniel si Louviere
Nicknames: Dani
Gender: Female
Sexuality: married to her duty but lowkey into chicks
Alias: The Protector; Scion of Light
Age: 427
Apparent Age: Early thirties
Race: Human
Sub-Race/Lineage or Nationality/Specialty: Precursor Descendant

Appearance: Fandaniel literally always wears her armour. To everything. Fashion is a construct created by people who die easily. Fandaniel is 6'4".

Personality: Revealed IC

History: When Albria Sumalt was excommunicated from the shared household, they took their family and moved to distant France, wanting to be as far away not only from the family that turned against them, but from Graivour who prophesied the events. With no further influence from their kin, Albria changed the family name from Sumalt to Louviere, to blend in better with their new environment and to remove any association they may have had with those left behind. Expanding on their belief of The Many, Albria believed that it the patron of War was both a single entity and a multitude - a great warrior, destined to fight the Enemy in the final battle, but comprised in this mortal coil of thirteen individual Scions of Light - holy warriors whose souls would grace the most powerful in a generation. Those born precursors had their anima searched by the elders of the family, and within the very recesses of their soul the Elders would find a name of one of the thirteen Scions. They believed so strongly in preparing for war against the Enemy that each Scion was trained by the very best, learning to master a single style of combat within their lifetime that they might prepare the anima within them just a little more for the inevitable great war.

Due to their holy conviction, the Louvieres became famed heroes and patrons of war - the Scions burned brilliantly in battle and craved a glorious death, that their Scion might return to the aether and find a new host to learn a new style of warfare. Over the years, many of the Thirteen were brought into the world - some many times, others only a few - but some Scions had never been named. Zodiark, the Keeper of Precepts, was yet to be ushered into the world, as was Fandaniel the Protector. Many believed that Fandaniel was an omen of the Great War, as until it was time for the battle to commence, what need did the mighty Louviere family have of a protector? Though they lost many of the number in each war, they knew it was in service to a greater task - that with each death, the resultant Scion would be more and more powerful, eventually able to form the great Patron of War with their brethren to serve The One and defeat The Enemy.

Though to be a Scion was a great blessing and the highest honour, there were rules to be followed clearly outlined in the holy scripture. Scions were devoted - wholly - to war. Their schooling was on strategy and tactics, not culture and art. Their physical regime was purely in the service of killing, not in providing succour. It was a great ask, but the Scions always shouldered their burdens with honour and poise, for The Enemy would surely not offer them any clemency, and nor could they afford to ask it of themselves. It was considered strictly forbidden for two Scions to mate - the resultant offspring could surely not carry the Anima of two Scions, and would be of no use to the family. Still, it happened far more often than most liked to admit, as the coupling of two precursors was far more likely to result in a precursor child than any alternative. The Scions themselves simply believed that their coupling would usher those Scions yet to grace the world with their presence, or those recently departed - and to a degree, they were correct.

Fandaniel si Louviere was ushered in to the world by the coupling of Pashtarot vi Louviere and Mitron su Louviere, two scions that had been reborn several times already - and was the focus of the entire Louviere family. Being born to two precursors, each with many imprinted talents, resulted in Fandaniel being born with a mastery of warfare that many could not achieve in multiple precursor lifetimes. Her knowledge of tactics was transcendent, her mastery of weaponry sublime, and her desire to kill nonexistent. She was Fandaniel the Protector, and though she was raised by her family to be an instrument of death, she was sworn by the very essence inside of her to protect. Though her birth was cause for great joy - as she was the first Fandaniel to surface - it was also an omen of the end times. She was the penultimate Scion to surface, and a large number of the Louvieres believed that the Great War was coming as a result of her birth. There were equally many who disagreed with this, however - Zodiark was not born, and so the Great War could not possibly start. Still, the family navigated carefully around her birth, several hundred years prior.

Fandaniel the Protector earned her namesake many times over the course of her military career. She was an integral part of the Louviere army in the great war - virtually unassailable in melee, and with a mind for tactics that rendered most mundane war strategies utterly devoid. Along with her fellow Scions, she slowly but surely swung the war in her family's favour. That said, the highlight of the Louviere family's victories was short-lived. Though immensely powerful, even among her fellow Scions, she was still only a single person. She had never been bested in honest one-on-one combat, but war was neither honest nor a duel. Her fellow Scions gladly threw themselves to their deaths, burning out in a brilliant blaze that they might pass their mastery on to the next Scion to be reborn - but Fandaniel the Protector simply could not let herself go. She still had purpose - she was to protect, and she had not learned enough to pass on to her next incarnation. It was custom that the Scions bore as many children as possible, but Fandaniel refused to breed with anyone that could not best her in combat. Many tried, and many failed - the elders of the family quickly grew contemptuous of her refusal to let go and allow Fandaniel's anima to be born into the world.

Though they would never set her up to fail, the Louvieres begrudged Fandaniel her solemn charge to protect. They placed her in riskier and riskier situations, begun to stop heeding her tactics and her advice, all ostensibly to allow her to achieve a flaming climax and pass on the soul of the Scion as all of her brethren had done before her - but she knew that she could not. Eventually, after one too many brushes with danger, Fandaniel relented and bore a son with Loghrif, the Transcendent. He was not born a precursor, and so he was taken away from his parents that they might try again, to bolster the dying populus of the precursors. Her next child, a girl, was born a precursor and named Ultima, the High Seraph - and though she wished for nothing but to teach her daughter the ways of war, she knew that all of that knowledge would come to her in time and the holy crusade called to her.

Fandaniel had always sought to protect as many as possible, but in the pursuit of martial perfection she had killed many she could, in another world, have called friends - and motherhood had left her emotionally raw, and physically drained. She began to lose faith in the teachings, began to doubt that the study of warfare was something she needed to do. This doubt ate away at her over the years to come, and after a particularly brutal campaign against her brethren in which she was the only survivor, she decided that she needed to flee. Fandaniel faked her own death, being declared missing and presumed dead, and fled the country. With great sorrow she left her children behind, knowing that to take them away from the family was to endanger them all, and made her way to Ominar to seek out the descendants of Graivour who bore the surname Taeryn.

Though warfare had been her life, she begun to realise that no matter the truth of the holy crusade she had given herself to, she could not watch her dying race fall before her and know that she had forsaken the one value she embodied most - Protection. Though she did not agree with the principles of the Taeryn family, she knew in her heart that they were (at least, on some level) right and only by uniting those who had seen enough loss would her people live for long enough to fulfil their ultimate purpose.

And so it was that Fandaniel si Louviere made her way to Ominar.

Belongings/Equipment

Hider

Armour.

Capabilities

Hider

Mental
- Direct
- Forceful
- Honourable
- Loyal
- Iron Discipline
- Mental Fortitude hitherto unknown

Physical

- Faster than a normal human
- Stronger than a normal human
- Heightened reflexes
- Extreme tactical awareness
- Prodigal Weaponmaster among prodigies
- Endurance to the point of people questioning whether or not she’s even mortal

Magical/Technological

Crystals [Imprinted]
Vis Crystals of various types are used as currency for the five families. Because of this, the ability to make them has been passed down through the generations.

Vis Sense [Imprinted]
The ability to sense, or feel vis in one's surroundings. Fandaniel’s vis sense is fine-tuned to the human form, but she is very adept at the art and is easily capable of determining the other races from one another after hundreds of years of training.

Student of Warfare [Imprinted]
Fandaniel bears the accumulated knowledge of each of her mother and father’s past lives – and is imprinted with extremely impressively detailed fighting styles for practically every known weapon. Fandaniel has mastered the art of the Shield herself, but is capable of using any non-unique weapon handed to her to the pinnacle of its ability (in theory).

Vis Armour [Imprinted]

Fandaniel is capable of shaping her vis into an ethereal set of armour that surrounds her. Due to the strength of her vis and her exceptional ability to manipulate it, the armour is strong enough to turn all but the strongest of physical blows and ward off most intermediate or lower spells. Each hit the armour takes and each spell deflected drains a proportional amount of vis to the force produced. This ability is passively always active.

Vis Shaping [Imprinted]
Fandaniel is unable to traditionally use vis. She is only really able to manipulate vis into the form of weapons, but the weapons she creates by shaping her own vis are very potent. Fandaniel is able to manifest any weapon at a moment’s notice from the arsenal that she has mastered – which is to say, almost any weapon at all.

Annulment [Not Imprinted]
The Louviere family has never manifested any exceptional talent with spellcraft. Most of their line are unable to use any form of magic beyond Vis Shaping, and using a mere fragment of a letter of the fundamental language of creation the earliest Scions of Light developed a magic that creates a field in which all vis is forcibly manipulated to become the same vis that comprises the field, resulting in the unravelling of traditional magic. Annulment is considered extremely rare among the Louvieres, with only Scions ever mastering it, and none ever passing it down to their children – Fandaniel learned it at an early age, and despite constant practice she is only able to imbue her shaped vis with Annulment, allowing her weapons to cut through magic and her shield to repel it. She is able to delay the effect of Annulment on her manifested weaponry for up to sixty seconds, after which the weapon disappears and Fandaniel must manifest it again, expending the vis to shape it once more.

Relationships / Friendships:

Fandaniel's Weaponry

Fandaniel really loves her weapons. Especially her shield (but don't tell her other weapons).

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

【Fandaniel si Louviere】

~"It is only in the glory of martial perfection that our souls truly shine. It is only in doing our duty that we transcend our fleeting mortality.”~

Hider

Name: Fandaniel si Louviere
Nicknames: Dani
Gender: Female
Sexuality: married to her duty but lowkey into chicks
Alias: The Protector; Scion of Light
Age: 427
Apparent Age: Early thirties
Race: Human
Sub-Race/Lineage or Nationality/Specialty: Precursor Descendant

Appearance: Fandaniel literally always wears her armour. To everything. Fashion is a construct created by people who die easily.

Personality: Revealed IC

History: When Albria Sumalt was excommunicated from the shared household, they took their family and moved to distant France, wanting to be as far away not only from the family that turned against them, but from Graivour who prophesied the events. With no further influence from their kin, Albria changed the family name from Sumalt to Louviere, to blend in better with their new environment and to remove any association they may have had with those left behind. Expanding on their belief of The Many, Albria believed that it the patron of War was both a single entity and a multitude - a great warrior, destined to fight the Enemy in the final battle, but comprised in this mortal coil of thirteen individual Scions of Light - holy warriors whose souls would grace the most powerful in a generation. Those born precursors had their anima searched by the elders of the family, and within the very recesses of their soul the Elders would find a name of one of the thirteen Scions. They believed so strongly in preparing for war against the Enemy that each Scion was trained by the very best, learning to master a single style of combat within their lifetime that they might prepare the anima within them just a little more for the inevitable great war.

Due to their holy conviction, the Louvieres became famed heroes and patrons of war - the Scions burned brilliantly in battle and craved a glorious death, that their Scion might return to the aether and find a new host to learn a new style of warfare. Over the years, many of the Thirteen were brought into the world - some many times, others only a few - but some Scions had never been named. Zodiark, the Keeper of Precepts, was yet to be ushered into the world, as was Fandaniel the Protector. Many believed that Fandaniel was an omen of the Great War, as until it was time for the battle to commence, what need did the mighty Louviere family have of a protector? Though they lost many of the number in each war, they knew it was in service to a greater task - that with each death, the resultant Scion would be more and more powerful, eventually able to form the great Patron of War with their brethren to serve The One and defeat The Enemy.

Though to be a Scion was a great blessing and the highest honour, there were rules to be followed clearly outlined in the holy scripture. Scions were devoted - wholly - to war. Their schooling was on strategy and tactics, not culture and art. Their physical regime was purely in the service of killing, not in providing succour. It was a great ask, but the Scions always shouldered their burdens with honour and poise, for The Enemy would surely not offer them any clemency, and nor could they afford to ask it of themselves. It was considered strictly forbidden for two Scions to mate - the resultant offspring could surely not carry the Anima of two Scions, and would be of no use to the family. Still, it happened far more often than most liked to admit, as the coupling of two precursors was far more likely to result in a precursor child than any alternative. The Scions themselves simply believed that their coupling would usher those Scions yet to grace the world with their presence, or those recently departed - and to a degree, they were correct.

Fandaniel si Louviere was ushered in to the world by the coupling of Pashtarot vi Louviere and Mitron su Louviere, two scions that had been reborn several times already - and was the focus of the entire Louviere family. Being born to two precursors, each with many imprinted talents, resulted in Fandaniel being born with a mastery of warfare that many could not achieve in multiple precursor lifetimes. Her knowledge of tactics was transcendent, her mastery of weaponry sublime, and her desire to kill nonexistent. She was Fandaniel the Protector, and though she was raised by her family to be an instrument of death, she was sworn by the very essence inside of her to protect. Though her birth was cause for great joy - as she was the first Fandaniel to surface - it was also an omen of the end times. She was the penultimate Scion to surface, and a large number of the Louvieres believed that the Great War was coming as a result of her birth. There were equally many who disagreed with this, however - Zodiark was not born, and so the Great War could not possibly start. Still, the family navigated carefully around her birth, several hundred years prior.

Fandaniel the Protector earned her namesake many times over the course of her military career. She was an integral part of the Louviere army in the great war - virtually unassailable in melee, and with a mind for tactics that rendered most mundane war strategies utterly devoid. Along with her fellow Scions, she slowly but surely swung the war in her family's favour. That said, the highlight of the Louviere family's victories was short-lived. Though immensely powerful, even among her fellow Scions, she was still only a single person. She had never been bested in honest one-on-one combat, but war was neither honest nor a duel. Her fellow Scions gladly threw themselves to their deaths, burning out in a brilliant blaze that they might pass their mastery on to the next Scion to be reborn - but Fandaniel the Protector simply could not let herself go. She still had purpose - she was to protect, and she had not learned enough to pass on to her next incarnation. It was custom that the Scions bore as many children as possible, but Fandaniel refused to breed with anyone that could not best her in combat. Many tried, and many failed - the elders of the family quickly grew contemptuous of her refusal to let go and allow Fandaniel's anima to be born into the world.

Though they would never set her up to fail, the Louvieres begrudged Fandaniel her solemn charge to protect. They placed her in riskier and riskier situations, begun to stop heeding her tactics and her advice, all ostensibly to allow her to achieve a flaming climax and pass on the soul of the Scion as all of her brethren had done before her - but she knew that she could not. Eventually, after one too many brushes with danger, Fandaniel relented and bore a son with Loghrif, the Transcendent. He was not born a precursor, and so he was taken away from his parents that they might try again, to bolster the dying populus of the precursors. Her next child, a girl, was born a precursor and named Ultima, the High Seraph - and though she wished for nothing but to teach her daughter the ways of war, she knew that all of that knowledge would come to her in time and the holy crusade called to her.

Fandaniel had always sought to protect as many as possible, but in the pursuit of martial perfection she had killed many she could, in another world, have called friends - and motherhood had left her emotionally raw, and physically drained. She began to lose faith in the teachings, began to doubt that the study of warfare was something she needed to do. This doubt ate away at her over the years to come, and after a particularly brutal campaign against her brethren in which she was the only survivor, she decided that she needed to flee. Fandaniel faked her own death, being declared missing and presumed dead, and fled the country. With great sorrow she left her children behind, knowing that to take them away from the family was to endanger them all, and made her way to Ominar to seek out the descendants of Graivour who bore the surname Taeryn.

Though warfare had been her life, she begun to realise that no matter the truth of the holy crusade she had given herself to, she could not watch her dying race fall before her and know that she had forsaken the one value she embodied most - Protection. Though she did not agree with the principles of the Taeryn family, she knew in her heart that they were (at least, on some level) right and only by uniting those who had seen enough loss would her people live for long enough to fulfil their ultimate purpose.

And so it was that Fandaniel si Louviere made her way to Ominar.

Belongings/Equipment

Hider

Armour.

Capabilities

Hider

Mental
- Direct
- Forceful
- Honourable
- Loyal
- Iron Discipline
- Mental Fortitude hitherto unknown

Physical

- Faster than a normal human
- Stronger than a normal human
- Heightened reflexes
- Extreme tactical awareness
- Prodigal Weaponmaster among prodigies
- Endurance to the point of people questioning whether or not she’s even mortal

Magical/Technological

Crystals [Imprinted]
Vis Crystals of various types are used as currency for the five families. Because of this, the ability to make them has been passed down through the generations.

Vis Sight [Imprinted]
This ability allows the user to see vis in the environment around them when vis is focused in the eyes. Whether it be people, animals, or even objects; if it has vis in it, they'll be able to see it with enough training. Fandaniel has sharpened her Vis Sight over many years of warfare – she has extreme situational awareness from things that most people cannot naturally sense, but is left somewhat lacking in more peaceful uses of the Sight.

Vis Sense [Imprinted]
The ability to sense, or feel vis in one's surroundings. Fandaniel’s vis sense is fine-tuned to the human form, but she is very adept at the art and is easily capable of determining the other races from one another after hundreds of years of training.

Student of Warfare [Imprinted]
Fandaniel bears the accumulated knowledge of each of her mother and father’s past lives – and is imprinted with extremely impressively detailed fighting styles for practically every known weapon. Fandaniel has mastered the art of the Shield herself, but is capable of using any non-unique weapon handed to her to the pinnacle of its ability (in theory).

Vis Shaping [Imprinted]
Fandaniel is unable to traditionally use vis. She is only really able to manipulate vis into the form of weapons, but the weapons she creates by shaping her own vis are very potent. Fandaniel is able to manifest any weapon at a moment’s notice from the arsenal that she has mastered – which is to say, almost any weapon at all.

Annulment [Not Imprinted]
The Louviere family has never manifested any exceptional talent with spellcraft. Most of their line are unable to use any form of magic beyond Vis Shaping, and using the Art the earliest Scions of Light developed a magic that creates a field in which all vis is forcibly manipulated to become the same vis that comprises the field, resulting in the unravelling of traditional magic. Annulment is considered extremely rare among the Louvieres, with only Scions ever mastering it, and none ever passing it down to their children – Fandaniel learned it at an early age, and despite constant practice she is only able to imbue her shaped vis with Annulment, allowing her weapons to cut through magic and her shield to repel it. She is able to delay the effect of Annulment on her manifested weaponry for up to sixty seconds, after which the weapon disappears and Fandaniel must manifest it again, expending the vis to shape it once more.

Relationships / Friendships:

Fandaniel's Weaponry

Fandaniel really loves her weapons. Especially her shield (but don't tell her other weapons).

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Selysze

Selysze Physiology

Selysze are humanoid creatures that typically range from around 4 feet in height to 8 feet, and are often very lithe with sinewy musculature. Selysze are typically brightly coloured, favouring the cooler colours such as purple and blue, and almost always with their soul core in the centre of their forehead or directly in the centre of their chest. This, ultimately, is where the generic racial similarities between the various types of Selysze end - as their physiology is uniquely adapted to serve the concept that embodies them.

Like their brethren, Selysze undertake various Trial and Growth stages - but these are much more than the expansion of abilities or the alteration of form. To a Selysze, the trial and growth stages they undertake are personal, spiritual journeys - they are the discovery of self and what it means to be the concept that they embody. They are the product of past experiences, and the insight gained from new experiences - and to a Selysze, they are both sacred and plentiful. Many Selysze undergo a great deal more Trial and Growth stages than their brethren, doing so to further refine the Will and intent that encompasses their being. Just as there are many facets to a single jewel, there are many ways in which a concept can be embodied. Justice is both the executioner's axe and the judge's mercy, and it is this continual process of change that allows a Selysze to hone what they are. As a result, their physiology and magical ability is wont to change readily, as is the inherent geas that they produce.

Selysze lack an on-demand shapeshifting ability, but are able to change their physiology in one of their many growth stages - but these occur frequently enough that if one were to meet a Selysze and encounter them a month later, they would most likely have changed their body or their magic in some small but noticeable away. As time goes on, each Selysze focuses further and further into specific aspects of the concept that they embody, and as they change, so too does the geas that they naturally produce. As the geas is also what drives the Selysze, it is subtly changed as their experiences grow - and those under its compulsion steadily take on little tics reminiscent of the Selysze at the time of the geas' creation within them.

In order to reproduce, a Selysze splits its soul core in half and inserts this into the anima of another being, placing them under more powerful but far less compelling geas, as the additional power allows the geas to infuse with the target's will rather than compete with it. The soul core then gestates within its host, drawing from their experiences and adapting to what they are by sapping the vis infused with their intent. Eventually, the new core emerges from its host painlessly and largely without causing injury, though the host is noticeably sapped of vis and often never fully shakes the lingering effects of the geas. The gestation period is usually between two to three years, which allows the host to have a variety of experiences that will shape the nature of the new Selysze.

Selysze Abilities

The Selysze are both born of and entirely beholden to the Will, the fundamental force of order that suffuses all of reality. It is through the Will that intent is poured into Vis, and so the Selysze are uniquely adapted to infuse their own vis, as well as the vis of others, with intent - with different implications for both. The Selysze are, by and large, completely beholden to a single idea or emotion that is poured into everything they do. Some are beacons of compassion, others a living incarnation of destruction - though all, through either chaos or order, advance the agenda of all Licentia and the Will as a whole as per the inscrutable vicissitudes of fate.
Magically speaking, the Selysze are adept at whatever it is their concept lends itself to. Selysze with the concept of Truth are analytical, capable of impelling others to be forthright and honest. Selysze with the concept of Compassion are kind to the extreme, able to deliver succour beyond compare to those who are suffering. Whatever they may require to fulfil their purpose is what they are able to do, no more and no less. As the Selysze are sensitive to the Will and are by nature narrowly focused, they lose sense of all else when they become aware of something that the intent roiling within them would have them address, and once the task at hand ceases to align with their intent, they lose all interest and all power over it. The innate compulsion of a Selysze results in a largely nomadic lifestyle, as they are driven to seek out and correct perceived imbalances in the Will that conflict with their concept. Their scope of power lies solely in the ministration of this concept, and once their task is complete or when the task no longer aligns with their concept, they lose all interest in it and are powerless to interact with it until it becomes relevant to them once more. Put simply, a Selysze only learns magic that is connected to the fulfilment of their fundamental purpose – they may learn any magic that does so, and are unable to learn any magic that does not. If magic that has been learned ceases to aid them in the fulfilment of their purpose, they become unable to use it, and if a type of magic previously inaccessible to them becomes relevant to them, they are able to learn it.

Each Selysze boasts a unique variant of their racial power, the geas. Due to the sheer strength of intent that a Selysze's vis contains, and their connection to the Will, they are able to manifest in others a compulsion of their intent, albeit far less powerful than the pull that the Selysze themselves feels. A geas of Truth would impel those under it to speak the truth, a geas of Compassion would impel those under it to offer aid and succour to the needy, a geas of Death would impel those under it to kill. The geas is manifested in a small field, two feet in radius, around the Selysze at all times - though this can be controlled by sufficiently experienced Selysze. Each Selysze is also capable of using a shard of their soul core, inserted into the anima of another being, to infuse them with a sliver of the Selysze's Geas - this gives the being a lesser compulsion according to the concept that the Selysze embodies, and varies in strength depending on the power of the Selysze imparting the Geas and the willpower or mental fortitude of the recipient. For most, the compulsion is strong enough to alter their way of thinking enough that they take on certain aspects of the concept in the day-to-day life, but little beyond that. The compulsion of the natural geas is far more powerful, however, due to the proximity of the Selysze - but this also results in the immediate cancellation of the effects of the geas should the target leave the field.
As with any geas, the compulsion can be resisted - but if the target does not act in accordance with the geas placed upon them, the infusion of foreign intent overwhelms them and temporarily leaves them unable to infuse vis with their own will - this prevents most traditional spellcasting, but does not prevent the use of abilities that only shape vis.

Selysze Culture and History

The Selysze are distant ancestors of the Ahldreian, taking from them their unique connection to the Will. In so doing, the core tenets of Selysze culture were formed: Become one with the Will, and enact it howsoever you are able to. The earliest Selysze were not as intensely driven as their modern brethren, and their unique senses were not so clearly formed - they were essentially handymen, going around Torqueo and finding situations that were the antithesis of the concept that they embodied in order to remedy them. As the purpose of the Licentia as a whole shifted, so too did the purpose of the Selysze - though they were always beholden to the Will and as a result less prone to the zeitgeist that the ever-changing Licentia often found themselves in.

The Selysze only really appear in the histories of other races, as their culture is so often ingrained with that of the other Licentia. Additionally, Selysze are not enormously common, and while they are common enough to be by and large known by Licentia as a whole, they are not so common as to be mentioned frequently or be common in any history except that of the other races, where they are occasionally mentioned due to some interaction.

The Selysze very quickly became the manifestations of concept that they are today in part due to the tumultuous nature of the Licentia and in part due to the time frame. Their culture revolved around the celebration of individuality and the ways in which they could enact what they perceived to be the Will's demands, but this very quickly fell to the wayside as the inherent geas within the Selysze became stronger and stronger as time went on. The loosely held together culture of the Selysze crumbled as quickly as it was made, with the Selysze so ensorcelled by their own geas that they very rarely interacted with one another.

Many Selysze are constantly on the move, using their unique senses to find disturbances in the Will that relate to their concept and righting them. Many do this tirelessly, spurred on by the conviction of intent that defines them - and their senses are strong enough and their problems plentiful enough that they never run out of things of to do. Some, however, are able to rest for periods of time - either due to the nature of their compulsion, or due to being unable to sense disturbances nearby that their compulsions demand they correct. When resting, Selysze still embody their concept, but are generally very understanding and open, and keen to aid those in need and offer their services wherever possible. They yearn for adventure, as each experience they undertake furthers their understanding of the Will and enables them to better serve it. While most races have their fair share of deviants who rebel against the ideals of the race, Selysze are inherently bound to the Will. They are unable to separate themselves from it, and as it is a key to the fundamental geas that makes up their being, they are equally unable to resist it.

Selysze do not take names of their parents’ choosing or their own choosing, instead being referred to by the concept that they embody. This leads to much confusion among the other races if multiple Selysze embodying the same concept are encountered simultaneously, but the Selysze can inherently sense when someone is referring to them rather than their brethren.

---

~"Fate is ours to mend or to break. Follow your own Truth, and hope that it lends itself to help over harm."~

Basic Information

Name – Truth
Nicknames – N/A
Gender – N/A
Sexuality – N/A
Alias – The Arbiter
Age – 3053
Apparent Age – N/A
Race – Licentia
Sub-Race/Lineage or Nationality/Specialty: Selysze / Eximius

Appearance: See picture. Stands at 6'4" in human form, weighing approximately 100 pounds.

Hider

Truth is, as most of their race are, first and foremost the very incarnation of the concept that they embody - even more so due to their status as an Eximius. Truth is almost completely amoral in the traditional sense, being unable to even fathom of the concept of judging someone against a societally approved set of rules and laws. Their only loyalty is to the truth and the Will, and they perceive disturbances in the Will where lies are obfuscating information that should be known; this is the only metric which they are capable of extending to others. Truth comes across as cold and logical, preferring to avoid personal connections in favour of objective and binary relationships. To some they act as an interrogator, and to others they act as a form of conscience - Truth themselves see no distinction between the two, recognising only that their concealment is a disturbance that demands correction. Truth both shows and feels very little emotion, driven only to correct the imbalances that grate against its senses wherever they arise - and as a result often does not form any sort of long lasting relationship with others. This fundamental disconnect results in them often being perceived as brusque and short in conversation, though they do not necessarily intend for this to be the case.

While not warm and personable by any stretch of the imagination, Truth is not unapproachable. Many are compelled by their extraordinarily powerful geas to confess deep-seated secrets and lies, and while these little things are not what Truth is driven to seek out and correct they feel relieved to help any release the burden of a lie - and in this sense, can be considered somewhat friendly. Truth detests those who scheme and plot from the shadows, preferring an honest and open discourse in any situation possible - though this should certainly not be confused with contempt for the context of the actions, however, only for the act of dishonesty in and of itself. As Truth is naturally driven to seek out these perceived imbalances, they learned during their younger years to try to hide the more uncomfortable aspects of their personality behind the auspices of a higher power - mortals especially are prone to belief in deities or powers higher than themselves, and Truth often takes on the mantle of such in order to undertake its compulsive behaviour.

Many creatures gain wisdom with age, but Selysze that grow old are only more driven by their compulsions. Truth is no exception to this, and though they have managed to shift their scope away from little imbalances to the larger sort they are fundamentally unable to stop themselves from working. As Truth requires very little in the way of rest, they are usually constantly analysing situations to determine the extent of any damage that lies have caused or are gathering information from those involved. Truth investigates such things with a tireless and objective eye, and is dogged in their pursuit - once locked on to a disturbance, nothing short of death can shake them of their task. It cannot be said that Truth lacks a sense of danger per se, more that despite any conventional wisdom stating otherwise the compulsion that forms the core of their being overrides any and all attempts by Truth to ignore it. As is the case with many of their kind, Truth once felt frustration and anger at this part of themselves - but age has, in this case, mellowed them enough for them to at least coexist with their compulsion rather than allow it to take over every aspect of their life.

That is not to say that Truth does much other than uncover the truth, however. Truth simply spends its spare time honing its skills in the service of its compulsion when it cannot sense a disturbance great enough to rouse it to action. Truth enjoys activities such as logic puzzles and cryptography, which it tends to avidly complete when not focusing on doing much else. Though the compulsion it bears is extremely strong, Truth is able to reconcile this with taking time to ensure that it is capable of ousting lies when it spots them. In the same vein, Truth is a veritable storehouse of information relating to all things factual and legal purely in service to its need to spread fact and dispel fiction - while it does not personally follow any such codes, those it is impelled to assist do follow such creeds and its knowing them is vital to ensure their success. As a particularly old Selysze, Truth is well aware that objective truth is extraordinarily rare to find. Many disturbances are caused by a subjective belief in what the truth is and how much of it should be revealed, and so Truth is compelled primarily to force people to tell the truth only in the context of their own moral code. This often results in an outcome that does not necessarily satisfy Truth on a personal level, but does satisfy their compulsion - and once the compulsion has been quelled, Truth is free to give its own opinion on the matter.

All-in-all, Truth is as simple as honest as their namesake. They wish only to free others from the burden of lies, as it is only through a complete knowledge of truth that a truly wise decision can be made and the Will can be satisfied.

Hider

Truth has been a leader among the Selysze for many years, though their origins and ascension to Eximius are largely shrouded in mystery and hearsay. Truth prefers not to linger on what has been done, but on what is yet to be done - and is in Ominar because they sense an enormous disturbance in the Will leaking into the city. Not one to allow this to go uncorrected, Truth plans to pledge themselves to the service of Medius and unravel the mysteries they sense looming on the horizon.

Hider

Hider

- Immune to mind-altering effects, including mind control and the geas of other Selysze.
- Permanently affected by a geas that compels them to tell the truth and bring truth to light where it has been willfully hidden.
- Vast and extensive knowledge of many subjects and topics relating to law, history, and culture.
- Exceptional puzzle-solving skills and knowledge of ciphers, as well as many other linguistic and written methods of concealing the truth.
- Eidetic and limitless memory; perfect recall.
- Uniquely attuned to the Will, able to sense disturbances in it relating to its specific geas.



- Physically weak.
- Unimpressive stamina.
- Average reflexes.
- Potent vis sense, extending to the identification of individuals and vast insight into most forms of vis manipulation.
- Little to no physical combat experience.



- Geas Mastery

Truth has achieved such mastery over their fundamental geas that they are able to utilise it in many more ways than the average Selysze. The area that their inherent geas covers is ten feet in radius, and its effect is so strong that only those with legendary mental resistance or equivalent/greater power levels can hope to fully resist it. If Truth manages to insert a fragment of its soul core into an individual, the geas is so overwhelmingly powerful that it can only be resisted in exceptional circumstances, or by those vastly more powerful than Truth. Truth is able to mould vis into a rune that conveys the geas at 50% of its normal potency to those touching it. Additionally, if Truth has inserted a fragment of their soul core into someone and is manifesting their geas in that way, the geas is able to force them to comply to Truth's definition of honesty, rather than their own definition of honesty - which is typically far more objective and brutal.

- Illusion Mastery

Similar in vein to the power of the Ahldreian, though vastly weaker by comparison, Truth is able to use its connection to the Will to produce exceptionally convincing illusions, realistic to the point that even with the ability to sense vis the illusions are challenging to dispel. This is most commonly used personally, in order to better blend in with the environment and raise less suspicion. Though loathe to do so, Truth is capable of using their illusory magic for the purposes of deception if - and only if - it will allow them to uncover a deeper deception or it will allow them to remain undetected. Truth commonly uses their illusory magic to display information to specific individuals without the notice of others, as well as to visualise challenging concepts or puzzles either to aid in their own mental workings or to share these insights with others.

- Spell Theory Mastery

Though not inherently suited to combat magic, Truth's knowledge of the workings of magic combined with their attunement to the Will produces a uniquely specific affinity for the mechanics of magic. Truth is able to dissect the mechanics behind most forms of vis manipulation or spellcraft by being able to sense the intent within the vis, being able to sense the vis being used, and combining this with their expansive knowledge - Truth will know the purpose of practically any spell they come across, and is often able to deduce a suitable counter to this magic if the situation calls for it - though they are typically not able to manipulate their vis in a sufficient manner to utilise this knowledge in a practical manner unless it corresponds to a field of magic they are familiar in, they are capable of sharing this knowledge with allies that do have the capability to enact it. If Truth extends their vis to another individual while they perform any form of vis manipulation, they are able to gain a fundamental understanding of the ability used by the target.

- Telepathy

Truth has exceptionally powerful telepathy, able to communicate with and monitor people over extremely vast distances due to its connection with the Will. Truth can maintain up to as many as ten links to vis-infused objects or people within the same realm, and if a fragment of their soul core is embedded within a being or object, they are able to maintain a telepathic link to them across the realms, though this does not extend into Pylae. At a short distance, Truth can telepathically communicate with any number of beings, and due to their natural ability to sense intent via vis, are able to essentially link their minds with a single individual within a short distance of them provided that the target is either willing or is under the effect of Truth's geas. This connection allows Truth to read the target's mind and vice versa.

- Teleportation

Truth is fairly skilled at teleportation magic, though they are only able to transport themselves. With the proper preparation and time, Truth is able to teleport between Torqueo and Medius, though is unable (and unwilling) to breach Pylae or Priscus.

- Combat Magic

Truth is largely unskilled in combat magic as their natural compulsion does not require them to engage in combat.

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

♤ Darius M Cain ♤

---

Time

Day 4~ 3 P.M.

Location

Darius’ office, within Ominar

---

Darius felt contentment for the first time in his years within Ominar. It was rare and something he wished he could cherish easily, but his mind kept wandering to the consequences and pain of doing such a thing. His position didn’t provide allowance for luxuries such as love, companionship and trust to the fullest extent. It was a balancing game of how much paranoia he should exercise and how much trust he could risk. If he leaned too far one way, he could easily be shot back down to the bottom of the food chain. With any sort of power in the underworld, there was often a struggle to keep it.

After his meeting with Mr. Aeon, Darius rose from his chair and casually walked to the nearest window. His arm reached out and slowly pushed the thick curtains, both designed to block out any spying eyes and daylight itself, to the side. Sunlight flooded his office and chased away the shadows behind him.

A subtle, small satisfaction entered his mind upon seeing it. He deeply wished Szayeis was nearly as easy to banish from his life. His eyes darted back to the window and absorbed the setting outside, seeing the city bustling in its daily activities. Gradually, his arms folded behind him and hands rested at the nook of his back. Darius’ twin tails swished behind him idly in thought.

After the previous day's antics, Nabriales Taeryn had decided to take the day off from any shenanigans or wacky adventures that inevitably spiralled beyond his control. Today was going to be a day of rest, relaxation, and simple alchemy - the mundane things in life that brought a small measure of order to an otherwise chaotic world.

That lasted for approximately ten minutes before Nabriales got bored of order and decided to try his hand at something more fun.

For many years now he'd produced whatever drugs the various cartels and gangs around the city wanted - it was a side venture to keep him occupied (and make an enormous amount of money that he cared very little for) and little else. Recently, however, he figured that the worst any of the gangs in the city could feasibly do to him would be complain at Darius Cain and hope that the foxy fellow would bring him in line, or attempt to take matters into their own hands. Given that he'd dosed the cocaine he made for their personal stashes with his vis that caused those who consumed it to steadily grow in affection towards him, he didn't anticipate much violence on their end - and any that slipped through the cracks could be handled discreetly and efficiently. Recently, however, he'd figured that he'd gotten himself in too deep to simply stop producing all sorts of illicit substances for them and it was beginning to bore him endlessly. His solution was to make a product that was better, safer, and unique to him to put everyone else out of business.

Still, making that happen without getting himself attacked was turning out to be more difficult than he'd anticipated - so he decided to move his monthly meeting with the fastidious fox forwards, forgetting that he was somewhat anal about when and where he met people. Nabri understood a desire for privacy, certainly, but he also did not give even the slightest damn about whether or not Darius would want him wantonly barging into his home and/or office. He grabbed a vial of a purple-ish liquid, and in his trademark fashion poofed out of Victorious Secret and directly into the middle of his office.

The trademark obnoxious poofing sound would alert Darius to his effeminate guest's presence, as would his lilting voice:

"Good afternoon, foxy!"

It was a struggle not to flinch or react when the words reached Darius’ ears. The crime boss’ lithe figure twisted about and glanced at the unscheduled and unexpected ‘guest’ with a subtle displeased look. A perk of having vulpine features was that it made reading his expression difficult for those who never bothered to learn the meaning behind certain animal tics in their body language. He knew the best way to deal with Nabri was simply to accept his quirks, the kitsune began to clear his throat and then addressed the alchemist.

“Hello, Mr. Taeryn. I wasn't expecting you today, but actually a week from now. Curiously, what brought you to pay an unexpected visit?” through Darius’ tone was polite, it was clear he hoped Nabriales’ visit was not purely to save the man from boredom.

"I knoooooooow, but I was mulling over our arrangement and I thought that we could do... Better!"Nabriales replied, giving the fox a sultry wink. He took a few steps forwards, swaying ever so slightly in that way that the boys tended to find alluring, and placed the vial in his hands directly on Darius' desk with a soft thud.

"The market for narcotics in Ominar is plentiful, and I like to think that I help make a lot of people happy... But the drugs I make also ruin lives, and they're becoming so mundane and boring that I don't know if I'm willing to live with that anymore..." Nabriales stated, doing a reasonably passable job at sounding and looking sincerely remorseful. Darius would see through it immediately, but the dramatic effect would hopefully not be lost on him.

"So I made cocaine in liquid form with no negative effects and variable addictiveness! No health issues, no crashing... And I want to make you the sole supplier!" he added, teleporting himself into a sitting position on Darius' desk, his head cocked slightly to the side waiting for a response. Though he hadn't made any particular effort with his appearance that day, the scintillating rainbow aura that he possessed was in full force and his horns were glowing with a soft blue light - even to someone straight as an arrow, Nabriales was undeniably alluring. He was used to getting by on looks in many of his social entanglements, and though Darius was not normally attracted to other men, Nabriales was often alluring enough to make people at least consider the possibility. He always searched for the slightest flicker of what-ifs going on behind Darius' vulpine eyes, though he was never sure if he was seeing something or simply seeing what he wanted to.

"Assuming that such a business venture is something you'd be... Interested in?" He added, poofing directly behind Darius and resting his chin on the fox's shoulder, peering up at him with a simultaneously suggestive and inquisitive look.

“You assumed correctly but a gift never comes without a price. However, it’s good to see your ‘remorse’ for your prior actions,” Darius inhaled and let his tone slip into sarcasm at the recollection, showing Nabri that his little acting talents didn’t go unnoted. While Nabri meant no one harm, the resulting aftermath was difficult to sort out.

Casually stepping to the side, he tilted his shoulder from under Nabriales’ chin. The fox’s expression softened as a counter to the earlier tension. It was a rare display few in his employment had ever had the opportunity to see as he turned to once more face Nabriales, preferring to keep the horned precursor within his eyesight.

“You also know I like to ensure all my bases are covered when it comes to deals. What do you get out of this, Mr. Taeryn? With you, I know it’s not the money but likely something else.”

"Attractive and observant..." Nabriales winked, taking a little step back to accommodate Darius' nudging his head off of his shoulder.

"We've known each other for long enough to be honest, haven't we?" Nabriales asked, grabbing Darius' right hand with his own for a second before poofing back onto the desk, taking a second to pick up the vial he'd laid down earlier and swirl it around in his left hand.

"I'm booooooooooooored. I've been making the same flawed product for years and years and years, and it just doesn't give me that thrill anymore!" He half-seriously whinged in the same singsong voice a child would use, though his musical timbre was soft and soothing instead of grating and pleading.

"I was originally planning to just phase the use of mundane drugs out by offering potions in my store that circumvented all of those pesky illicit substance act laws... But the authorities had something to say about it, and I had to blow three judges to get them to see things my way and avoid further legal action! All in a day's work, but I'd rather not be forced into doing these things by circumstance! Then I totally forgot about all of that... And then I got bored again and remembered!" He stated, eyes wide and hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke about the ups and downs of his little story that realistically could have been summed up with far fewer words.

"And now that I've remembered and I'm suitably bored, I just want to get the switch over and done with so I can go back to finding interesting things to do with my time... Like talking to you! I'm not really sure what I want out of this, as long as we're being completely honest - you would stand to make an exorbitant amount of money if we execute all of this juuuuust so... So what can you offer me that's equivalent to lots and lots of cold, haaaard cash?" Nabri asked, stretching out the syllables of his words in that flirtatious way that he often did, and lazily twisting a strand of his hair around his finger as he did so. While this was still a business deal, it was far more informal than he normally conducted his visits with Darius - and doubly more informal than Darius was used to in practically every other case of business he'd ever conducted.

“I got the impression you enjoy such acts time to time,” Darius stated, his posture slightly more relaxed than earlier. The behavior was expected from Nabri and in a strange sense, placed the kitsune at ease to see things playing out as expected. Familiarity was a blessing compared to what he endured during his childhood and so surprises were often met with brief, but very firm measures. It was also mildly amusing. Nabri’s display felt like an overgrown child trying to gain attention. Still, Darius knew better and he even held some respect toward the Alchemist’s gift when it came to his potions.

If push came to shove, Darius had little doubt Nabriales would’ve hit like a sixteen wheeler (at least) when the alchemist’s hand was forced.

His figure stepped toward his desk and carefully picked up the vial Nabri had brought. A paw held it close to the light and examined it, even through his ignorance of alchemy made the gesture pointless, “You haven’t done anything… unusual to this sample have you? I’d much rather not prevent additional attempts on your life. I’m not worried because one’s been successful or come close. Have they?”

"You know as well as I do that any such trickery is purely for the purposes of making sure I don't get killed by some jumped up thug." Nabriales replied, the corner of his mouth rising into a sly little smirk as he spoke. Though they both knew he was completely capable of defending himself in the event of any such attack, Nabriales' philosophy was that prevention was better than cure, and it had, truthfully, been a fairly large boon to his business and personal life to have so many unsavoury types falling head-over-heels for him. Nobody had gotten hurt, except perhaps Darius getting a headache over the whole incident, and as long as it didn't hurt anybody Nabri damn well did what he pleased, consequences be damned!

He also did that even if it did hurt people, but still.

"It just produces an effect similar to that of cocaine or speed - an intense feeling of wellbeing and euphoria, a burst of energy, and the belief that you're god's gift to the world in the sack! Difference is, it's as addictive as I want it to be, doesn't raise your blood pressure to harmful levels, doesn't make you paranoid or greedy, and has no comedown... So really, infinitely better than any of the nasty shit that your gangs peddle... And that right there..." He pointed at the vial in Darius' paw,

"... is a toned down sample at 0% physical addiction. Feel free to use it if you're so inclined... Or give it to someone else and monitor the effects on them! I just knew you'd need proof." Nabriales nonchalantly stated, losing his usual energy and talking in the clinical fashion associated with talking business - a manner of speaking Darius was certainly far more comfortable with.

"If someone had been successful, I'd have better things to do than come back here unannounced and haunt you." Nabriales winked, before continuing with the same playful tone he normally spoke in.

"Can I ask you a... Personal question, while we're being totally honest?" He added, eyes lighting up with the promise of something fun.

“I get the feeling you would still come back and haunt me just to prevent boredom,” Darius commented then paused in his examination of the product, the question paused on his tongue tip. His attention drifted to look at Nabri and raised the right side of his brow, his head cocked to the side at the alchemist.

“I suppose, but I reserve the right to either to answer it or not.”

"I don't have to worry about you being a Nogitsune, do I?" He asked, eyes glinting with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. He knew that the concerns that had been brought to him by Lily Quarin were almost certainly unfounded - but the potion that she would require in such an event would not be easy to make. Still, he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't absolutely relish the idea of getting to make something so obscure and specific - though he couldn't have admitted it at the time, he'd likely have taken on the task for free if he didn't also need something from Lily for another one of his projects. Still, now that he was facing the subject of his current alchemical fascination in the flesh, he was very apprehensive about making something to maim or injure him.

Was a Nogitsune dangerous? If the stories were to be believed, absolutely! Was a Nogitsune who also happened to be an attractive fox with a stake in your business prospects as well as something in between friend and acquaintance dangerous enough to kill? ... No, decidedly not. Nabriales hoped that by having that conversation now he could spare himself having to make new alliances, though he knew he'd end up making the required potion in some form or another regardless of whether or not Darius turned out to be a Nogitsune. For what it was worth, he did hope it wasn't so.

"I came across a recipe for a potion to strip a Nogitsune of their... Uniquely destructive gifts, you see - and as the only Kitsune I know, my mind couldn't help but make the connection! Even if you aren't, as it's something of a race issue for you I'd want the information and decision to be in your hands regardless..." Nabriales stated, speaking much more slowly and clearly, his musical lilting paused in favour of the tone one took on when delivering somber news.

"... and I hope you appreciate the goodwill I'm showing you by bringing this information directly to you." He stated, his tone softening a little, as he poofed behind the fox and wrapped his arms around Darius and rested his head on his other shoulder. Perhaps a little overly touchy, but Darius' fur was far more fun to run one's hands through than boring old skin, and Nabriales was already a very tactile person.

Darius sighed as his right ear flickered, a sign of annoyance. He didn't have time to deal with wild fairy tales and myths over an extinct race. Whoever had placed such notions into Nabriales’ head was either playing him for a fool or thought it was a good prank, which of course the Alchemist would eat up in his boredom. Getting tired of dislodging himself from the man’s grip, Darius allowed it for now and he addressed the precursor’s misinformation about such creatures.

“Nogitsune are an extinct race so, obviously, I can’t be one. It was the few rare occasions where nearly all Licentia would actually work together to eliminate a mutual enemy. I doubt any survived,” Darius commented while he mentally strained to keep his tone leveled and his eyes from rolling over the information. During his time as a child, he had been subjected to learning topics of his choice. Kitsune, branching off to some bits about Nogitsune, were included. Sadly, it was limited to Szayeis’ allowance so it wasn’t likely everything.

Placing down the vial back upon the desk, his head tilted over his shoulder to continue the conversation.

“Seriously, Mr. Taeryn, whoever placed such a notion in your mind was either attempting to prank you or feed you false information.”

Nabriales couldn't help but smirk at Darius' rebuttal - in his paranoia he had assumed that the notion had been someone else's, and Nabriales merely the messenger when he had blatantly stated otherwise. It was comforting to know that some things, despite the variable and chaotic ways that people worked, were easily predictable - just as Darius had thought about him, Nabriales was now thinking about Darius. With a very slight squeeze he let go of Darius and poofed back on top of the desk - partly to attempt to convey some semblance of reassurance, and partly just because the feeling of fur was so nice.

"Ah - Nogitsune are believed to be an extinct race. We both know that the people who win get to write down their version of events and we all come to accept that as fact... And we both know full well how dangerous it is to not do some objective fact finding! And it's as I said, hon - I was doing some research and the recipe came up in one of my old books. I figured I'd ask if there was any credence to them so I don't end up making something very costly with virtually no use!" He laughed, though it was that particular kind of laugh that screamed "we both know I'm going to make this potion regardless because it's new and interesting and it saves me from being bored" - a laugh that Darius would know quite intimately from his repeated interactions with Nabriales.

"What I found concerns your race and I wanted to make sure you were informed! If it's little more than a fairytale then we can just lay the matter to rest." he shrugged, putting the whole notion to the back of his mind. The floodgates had been opened, though - and Nabriales was always the terribly curious type. He'd gotten a glimpse behind the curtain, and now he wanted to shine a light on the mysteries that eluded him.

"Besides... I'd hate for you to lose your figure! It'd be muuuuch less enjoyable watching you come and go if you were some avatar of destruction." Nabriales purred, letting out a deep, throaty laugh as if to imply that imagining Darius as such a thing was well and truly laughable - precisely the reaction he was hoping for, if he had to guess.

"You seem more at ease than you normally do... There's just a liiiiiittle less guard up, and there must be a reason... Did you finally take my advice and find a booty call?" Nabriales asked, half-seriously.

“First off, there’s no absolute evidence that a Nogitsune and a Kitsune are actually the same creature. At best, they are closely related in looks and possibly ancestry. So unless I was born one, I don’t see how I could become one. Second, there’s not been one seen for ages so it’s highly likely the elimination of their race was a success,” His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the laughter for a moment. A slight awareness stirred when he recalled the last time he heard that laugh and the end result. Darius inhaled a moment to catch his breath and his mind flickered over the whole topic before he realized, strangely, it made him uncomfortable.

He brushed it away then replied to the booty call remark, glad for Nabriales to drop the conversation about Nogitsune, “Perhaps, but how long it lasts depends.”

Darius wasn’t sure if he wanted to reveal Masha quite yet. While he enjoyed her company, he honestly suspected it not to last before she either hurt or discarded him. It had happened often enough in the past he refused to believe it wouldn’t now or in the future.

"What's the point of being all crime boss-y and powerful if you can't use it to have a little fun? You know as well as I do that you need to relaaaaax, and seeing as you won't let me have a shot at it I'm glad you've found someone to blow your whistle!" He chuckled - Darius was never very good at keeping these kinds of secrets from Nabriales. When one was as sexually charged as the horned alchemist (a title that could be taken two ways), and their life's pursuit was hedonism in the form of alchemy, it was very difficult to keep the carnal matters hidden. Darius had an excellent poker face, but he couldn't hide the contented look he got when he thought noone was looking. Admittedly, nobody was looking until Nabriales had randomly teleported in, but he had seen enough of Darius to immediately pick up on this very specific nuance.

"Are you embarrassed of her...? It is a her, right? Because if you've got a man on the side I'll be very hurt!" He questioned, starting off very seriously but deteriorating into a fit of giggles towards the end. He knew that that certainly wouldn't happen.

"No, not embarrassed... Worried for your reputation? Worried for her reputation?" He quickly added on, dramatically rubbing his chin as if in deep contemplation.

"Worried she'll just use and abuse you? That definitely sounds like your damage."

“Mr. Taeryn, have you tested this product on all the different races?” Darius asked, hoping to alter the topic to something he could handle more easily. It was also important to know so he didn’t accidently have the product sold to the wrong individual and risk becoming a bigger target that he already was. In the back of his mind, he assumed Nabriales had, but hearing the words were far more reassuring.

He was thankful that the alchemist had finally released him and shifted away, but his eyes didn’t follow the individual. If it had been others, he would’ve. It just showed there was some measure of trust between the two at this stage of their association with each other.

"Yes, it's been tested on Humans, Licentia and several types of Licentia hybrid, and a remarkably reluctant Prae - what's her name, by the way? - who was absolutely insane when they let go of their inhibitions... No discernible side effects, though long-term use obviously can't be monitored until it's been used long-term... But even if it ends up being damaging in the long run, we both know it'll be much less damaging than heroin or speed or meth. Besides, I don't know why you're so cautious! The stuff you're peddling now does far worse to people, and nobody blames you for that because they knew the risks going in! If you're the one organizing the sale of the stuff, you get to tell people what to expect... And you get to ensure you have sufficient damage control." Nabriales replied, once again shifting to that clinical voice that he used whenever talking about the specifics of alchemy.

"And you're right, I am remarkably difficult to compensate when sex is off of the table... I recently won some very old alchemical texts at auction, though, and I'm anticipating requiring some remarkably hard to find ingredients that money alone can't get... We can work out the specifics after you tell me allll about your fling, but something along the lines of one rare item per 1,000 doses sounds like it's worth my time?" Nabriales queried, giving Darius a rather easy offer to work with. He doubted the fox could do the math off the top of his head, but even with very rough estimations he would serve to make an enormous amount of money if he handled things well.

“My personal life is off the table, I’m afraid to say, but the ingredients are possible. I will need a list of where they supposedly can be found for a place to start tracking and I can acquire them as demand increases,” Darius already knew the possible demand that this product would create if it was as good as Nabriales claimed. It could also, if recklessly placed on the market, disrupt the entire drug system in all of Ominar. Knowing he would need to gradually introduce it at high prices, he walked around to the other side of his desk in order to retrieve a pad of paper and pen from his drawer. He knew the price could easily be negotiable later if needed.

Through he still aimed to test the sample given, he knew the trade was lopsided. A fact, for once, he was fine with since the cost of the produce should cover the loss in getting the items Nabriales would likely require.

“Honestly, foxy, I don’t know how you keep yourself sane! I know you tell yourself that in your line of work you have to keep everyone at arm's length to prevent them - and you - from getting hurt, but you're hurting yourself in a much more destructive way by not giving yourself anyone to blow off steam with! It's okay to feel excited about a new lover, it's okay to let everything but the moment go sometimes, you know? Life is for living, and while you need that paranoia to keep on living, you can give it a rest sometimes around people that you trust! If you really don't want to spill all the secrets about your little fling, don't... But you need more than one person you can let loose around, and you need to do it often. I almost worry about you! That's very unlike me." Nabriales sighed, attempting to drum some conventional wisdom into the Kitsune's head. He knew, on some level, that it'd never work - he was too set in his ways, and simultaneously too smart and too stupid for his own good. Still, he would be remiss if he didn't try to make Darius happy - after all, his entire business and personal ethos was to make as many people as happy as possible.

Sensing that Darius wasn't about to divulge any more information, Nabriales gave a little shrug and hopped off of the desk. He patted himself down and turned back to his host, raising a delicately arched eyebrow to signal that his business was concluded and to ask if Darius had anything else to add or any other requests.

Relieved the Alchemist wasn’t going to become stubborn on the subject, Darius decided this meeting had reached its end and moved toward tying off loose ends.

“I’m not the only one that chooses to live life without certain qualities. One day you might learn why I do things the way I do. I believe we’re finished until I can test the sample, and make arrangements for your payment.”

For a moment, he turned about and studied the precursor. His expression was difficult to read before he picked up the sample and placed it into the desk’s drawer. A thought crossed his mind and though he suspected he knew the answer to his next comment, the fox said it anyways.

“Also, one more thing. Damian might need his hours cut back for some errands in the future.”

Darius' request came as a bit of a surprise to Nabriales. While he could certainly make do without his assistant, if he was to begin work on the deal that he had just brokered with Darius he would likely need to increase Damian's hours, not reduce them. Even if he elected to hold back on production until such a point as the details were finalised, having Damian not in the store meant that Nabriales had to be there to serve customers, which quite severely impacted his ability to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

“That's a no from me, hon. Damian's contracted to a certain number of hours in order to facilitate the smooth running of the store, and if I am to begin production within a reasonable timeframe I'm probably going to have to increase his hours. Victorious Secret is... Doing rather well for itself, if I say so myself! While the financial gains are largely irrelevant to me, the widespread success of the shop is important to ensure that my stock of rare ingredients is not diminished, and it's certainly not financially viable for you to take that on... I'll be happy to financially compensate you for any time that you would need him, though?" Nabriales countered, trying to be as cooperative as possible while firmly maintaining that he would not budge so much as an inch on the topic of reducing his hours.

“I see,” Darius commented. His figure moved to his chair then lowered to take a seat, his fingers folded together to thoughtfully press against his muzzle end. After a moment thinking, he sighed in resignation because fighting with Nabriales was an uphill battle with little to no gains. Any further energy was better served in finding another option. With that in mind, he shook his head.

“No, I’ll find someone else more suitable. I figured it was worth an attempt.”

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Day 3 - Ominar - Approximately 09:00

Interacting with @Raijinslayer's Damian and @13org's Corinna

With a weary sigh and a nod, Nabriales took a moment to compose himself before getting ready to return Corinna to the front of the store. It made sense that such a proud creature would not respond well to his offer of contrition, he supposed, in hindsight. Still - it was possible to salvage this meeting yet. His interest in the silk far outweighed his interest in the creature capable of creating it, he would freely admit - but he was more than willing to take a path whose steps did not interest him in order to reach a destination that did.

"We have different definitions of harm, it appears. Were he not my employee, I would have no qualms with your treatment of him - I'd encourage it, in fact... But he is sworn to me, and I am sworn to protect him from all outside harm - and I would consider your game with him harmful." He admitted, though it was clear he was not willing to push the point and was simply saying something for the sake of letting her know his point of view. With a wave of his hand, the fine wine would be teleported downstairs to the shop floor, neatly packed and ready to carry - and a second wave of his hand would add the selection of lingerie that Damian had picked out would be added to the little gift basket.

"Were I in your lair... I would feel as comfortable as I do now, though perhaps more alert. Due to an alchemical incident - the very same that granted me these beautiful horns - I am incapable of feeling fear. As a result, I have mastered the art of risk assessment - and I do not calculate your odds of being a risk to me above the threshold I'm willing to deem acceptable! Close, but not quite there." He offered, giving her a sincere smile to match the sincerity of his words.

"I'd like you to take the wine as a gift - independent of any business transactions we may have. It's good to find someone who appreciates such a vintage." he mused.

"And I understand completely. When you are ready to engage in a transaction, you know where I'll be! As a show of good faith, I'm also willing to make one potion of your choice (within reason) free of charge to prove to you the power that a simple alchemist can hold. Would you like to be returned to the front of the store, or to another destination within the city?" He asked, and would teleport Corinna wherever she wished - if it were anywhere outside the store the gift package would go along with her - added to it now was a business card that would allow her to teleport to the entrance of Victorious Secret once within the bounds of Ominar, and a vial of the same potion he had given Damian. The gifts may have seemed to be shallow and materialistic - but when one's business was catering to shallow and materialistic desires, it never hurt to remind potential customers of what you were capable of, even if they didn't see the gifts in the light they were intended just yet. Nabriales had faith that Corinna's curiosity would eventually overcome her wounded pride - and he had all of the time in the world to wait.

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Day 3 - Ominar - Approximately 09:00

Interacting with @Raijinslayer's Damian and @13org's Corinna

"You..." Nabriales begun, taking a sharp inhalation,

"... are right." he spoke, exhaling deeply and moving to sit back down in his seat. He had been terribly rude to a potential customer, that much was true - but in the moment, he could not believe the gall of his guest. Though it had been his plan to test her (and the results had been extremely informative), he did not expect things to escalate to outright hostility between his guest and his employee as they had. It was true, he had essentially hung a slab of meat in front of her - but if she was to criticise his decorum, he expected the same treatment in return and they seemed to have stumbled on the middling steps of their dance.

He knew, in his heart of hearts, that he was not directly to blame for the altercation that had occurred. Damian had reacted unexpectedly, and while it could be argued that his potion had caused that reaction a simple truth of the particular brand of concoction that he had forced upon his assistant was that they did not create feelings that did not exist, or desires that were not there before. They simply lowered inhibitions, and allowed someone to express their truest selves in the moment, lost to the animal parts of their brain - and though he knew he was not to blame entirely, nor was he blameless in the situation. In fact, no party involved could claim to be blameless in the affair. With that in mind, he thought better of himself and of Corinna and attempted to make amends.

"I appreciate that you aren't used to the way I speak, and that it could come off as... Brusque. For that, I apologise - you are a guest and I should have afforded you the civility and decorum that I afford all of my guests. Simultaneously, you outright attacked my assistant - and while it was intended as a gift of sorts, it was not intended to be violent and certainly not in my store! The altercation could have been very costly if it had damaged some of the vials, and I don't need to tell a lady such as yourself the costs - both personal and financial - of having one's goods damaged." He sighed, taking another deep breath and summoning another glass of wine for himself and his guest, as well as several bottles of the same vintage to the table near Corinna.

"As for the silk... Perhaps you misunderstood my intent. You are not an artisan by nature - you are a predator. Your use for the silk is purely practical, whereas I can use it to craft wonders beyond imagining... Things of beauty, you understand? Potions to bind, to entangle... Exactly the sort of thing I'd wager you're after? I didn't mean to imply that you were unable, merely that what I can do is on another level entirely." He smiled, nodding towards the glass of wine as a peace offering. As a precautionary measure, the wine contained a deactivated potion to calm Corinna down if she happened to be further enraged, though it would take a skilled alchemist in their own right to actually detect the presence of the latent potion, as it was tasteless, odourless, and textureless - and devoid of vis until Nabriales directly infused it to activate it. Expecting that the wine was laced with some form of potion was another matter entirely, however.

One thing Corinna would certainly pick up on would be a complete lack of reaction from Nabriales to the menacing signals that she was giving off. As a predator, she would know the scent of fear - it was something chemical that humans gave off, something imperceptible to them but something she would certainly be able to pick up on... And she would not be able to detect even a drop from Nabriales. With his display of humility, Corinna might be lead to wonder if his lack of fear was based out of hubris or simply... a lack of ability to feel fear. Though he was apologetic, it was certainly not due to any worries about his impending demise.

"As for danger... I'm well acquainted with it, hon. That said, if someone wandered into your home where all of your preparations and traps and tools were... Would you think yourself in danger?" He asked quizzically, looking around the room as he did so but still keeping her very much in his field of vision. It was clear from his relatively demure way of speaking that he knew that this was his castle - and even the most basic military strategist could tell you that assaulting someone in a castle was a very difficult thing to do successfully.

"Now, should we talk more civilly, or would you still like to leave? I'd rather make us both happy by completing a deal than let you walk out of here with bad blood."

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Day 3 - Ominar - Approximately 09:00

Interacting with @Raijinslayer's Damian and @13org's Corinna

As Corinna began her monologue, Nabriales raised a delicately arched eyebrow and continued to eat his steak and drink the wine he'd procured for them - it would be a terrible waste to let such finery lose its luster in the time it would take her to finish her assessment of the situation. Still, as he savoured the exquisite flavour of the meat, he could not help but notice that Corinna's interpretation of her position in this situation was nothing short of wholly and completely incorrect.

"Do you know what danger is, Corinna? Danger is when you are in a situation that you do not have complete control of; it is where you are as a blind man wandering in the dark, ignorant to your own ignorance." He begun, interrupting her just as she begun to talk about toys not knowing their place. It could be said that Nabriales was in no position to talk about believing Damian to be a plaything without becoming wildly hypocritical, but that was not the whole truth. Though, in truth, he found most things in the world to be playthings there was value in Damian - an innocence, a naivete, that had both personal and alchemical uses. Still, it classed him as an important commodity rather than something to be used and thrown away once that use had been expended as Corinna implied.

"I have never been in danger within these walls for as long as I have lived, and you are no exception. Your arrogance will unravel the web you seek to weave, dear." Nabriales smiled, his eyes not leaving hers. Nabriales often looked more of a nuisance than a true threat - his impulsive nature, his hedonistic desires... They were qualities that did not lend themselves well to being a mastermind. Just as Corinna was inviting him to gaze into her true nature, Nabriales offered her the same potential. She would see much of herself in him at that moment - the hunger, the desire, the spark of intellect that put one above their brethren... But she would also see something significantly more terrifying: Power. Though only a humble alchemist, Nabriales' power was on an entirely different level to most of the self-aware beings in Ominar - he was not as magically gifted as some, such as his sister. He was not as physically imposing as the seedy underbelly of the crime world. Nabriales had something greater than all of them - influence, and the intellect to use it wisely.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'Perception is reality'? We are intrinsically bound to the way we perceive the world and those in it, and even if that is not the objective truth, we are bound primarily to our own subjective truths. Even I am bound by this fundamental law, though my reach is long and my vision keen. You are a lone agent - the single wolf surrounded by what your perception tells you are sheep, and you will die if you come across a wolf in sheep's clothing and make a mistake, my dear. I am not going to kill you - hell, I won't even chastise you for trying to assert your dominance... But were I a less altruistic person, you would be well and truly finished."

With that, he finished his food and stood, the glass of wine refracting rays of light in his hand as he walked across to Corinna.

"I'll forgive your trespass this time, hon... And we'll make a deal! Your silk is, indeed, useful - limited only by the creativity of its wielder. What you have done with it will pale before the marvels that I could create. And yet, short of toys to play with, I don't know exactly what it is that you want! You are not simple enough to read at a glance, so we will play a game, hmm? Ask whatever it is you want to know - but for every question that you ask, you must also provide the answer!" He smiled, waving his hand to cause a small bottle of clear liquid to appear on the table in front of Corinna.

"A simple, if potent, truth serum. Simply drink it when you wish to begin."

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Day 3 - Ominar - Approximately 09:00

Interacting with @Raijinslayer's Damian and @13org's Corinna

Nabriales couldn't help but smile internally as he mixed the remaining ingredients for one of his experimental concoctions. For an eternity, mankind had been deathly afraid of the passage of time. He hadn't really understood it before, being a Taeryn and a Precursor Descendant, but his time interacting with the mayfly men of the mortal world had clued him in to the crippling fear of death that seemed to permeate every aspect of mortal society. There were many things that could be considered the ultimate alchemical pursuit - ressurection, immortality, transmutation... But it was only immortality that men truly craved. He gingerly placed a drop of a murky silver liquid into the cauldron before him, and as the tinge of colour spread throughout the liquid so too did his smile bloom from internal to external.

While he had not yet managed to bottle immortality - his one attempt had resulted in a monstrosity that sat innocuously on his gilded shelves - he had managed to bottle something he considered far greater: time. Time was an interesting concept - alchemically speaking - and any attempts to actually alter the flow of time required energy so great that even the merest taste of that forbidden fruit was a concept bordering on the impossible for all but the most powerful of magi. It stood to reason that if even the greatest magi could not accomplish such a feat easily, there was no way it could be distilled into an alchemical potation - or, at least, that was the case for lesser alchemists. Time, as most commonly understood, was a fiction - a trick. It was something that existed only inside the minds of those that could conceive of it, and as a wholly internal concept its innermost workings were adjustable with the correct potion.

This concept was not new - not by a long shot - but none had ever managed to concentrate the effect as much as Nabriales just had, and he was certain none had been able to prevent the body from tearing itself apart under the stress of the potion as he had. A single drop would be able to alter one's perception of time to the extent that it would essentially freeze for those around the imbiber - for up to approximately 10 seconds, he estimated - and that was considering his own vastly superior senses, never mind the dullness that ordinary humans perceived the world with. With Damian already under the effects of a potion - he really ought to have checked on his employee by now, surely? - and Vi still knocked out from an earlier experiment, he had no choice but to consume the potion himself. This was a concoction that he would have tested himself regardless, however, as its effects would be unpredictable on one whose vis had not been included during the creation of the potion - and while he was confident Damian would survive the process should he have elected to have him try it, it would be a waste of a phenominally powerful potation and that was far above his little helper's proverbial pay grade.

And so it was with a heady rush of excitement that Nabriales Taeryn made history. The second the drop of liquid made contact with his tongue, he recoiled from the sharpness. The effect hit him instantly, the world slowing to almost nothingness and losing its colour around him, as if he had stepped into a demiplane of the world stripped of colour and meaning. It was beautiful, he supposed, in its own way - but he would need to interact with another if he was to adequately judge the difference in the perception of time. He walked around the corner of the shelves from his workstation and took a moment to look out of the window - someone was walking by, and he could only very barely detect that the man was moving at all - to an ordinary run of the mill mortal, he must have been completely outside of their range of perception. What, then, of the more acute of mind and sense? With a single movement, he turned the corner to find his lovable but naive assistant pressed against a bookcase of erotic novels by Corinna - a shocking scene.

The first thing he noticed was that the colour around Licentia was somewhat restored - the presence of concentrated levels of vis appeared to diminish the effect of the potion. The two were not moving at the crawling pace that the man he had observed earlier had been, but they were not so much faster that they were immune to the effect by any means - especially in their distracted state. Nabriales took a moment to admire the effect of the potion on his assistant, his Sight able to allow him a second or two of quiet study of the exact effects. It seemed that the combination of Incubus and Nightwalker DNA prevented total uptake of the vis responsible for the generation of the hormones necessary for physical arousal, instead resulting in an increased likelihood of transformation and a mental shift towards his highly repressed Incubus nature. He could not even detect physical arousal - at least, not of a size he would be interested in if this was arousal - the effects seemed to have simply relaxed Damian's self-imposed limits. He made a mental note to adjust the formula specifically for Damian to affect the physical level more highly, before turning his attention to Corinna.

It seemed from the angle of movement and the positions that the two found themselves in that she had indeed been unable to resist the tempting treat that he had laid out for her. Forcing prey into a predator's gaze was the most fun way to confirm one's suspicions - and predatorial she had been... Until Damian had appeared to begin to turn the tables. It was an interesting conclusion to his little experiment - but it had to be that - a conclusion. With a wave of his hand, he teleported Corinna and himself to his apartment, and Damian to the counter where a vial conveniently labelled "Neutraliser" sat. He had gotten it out for himself, but at that point he could feel the superhuman focus slipping away from him as colour was beginning to slowly seep back into the world and it would be far better used on Damian.

Taking a seat before Corinna could even process that something had happened, Nabriales waved his hand again as the colour surged back into the world and his head throbbed with the exertion. Though he outwardly did not show it, the return to normal sensory input was extremely jarring, and if he were not an experienced alchemist who had altered his body with many, many potions he would currently be throwing his guts up. Without missing a single beat, he offered his most charismatic smile to Corinna as a wonderfully prepared meal appeared on the table - filet mignon, medium rare, for the both of them. The wine pairing was, of course, a pinot noir - a glass already in his hand and a glass for Corinna just next to her plate. He took a sip, mostly to orient himself, and placed the glass back on the table.

"I see that my potion worked! Not exactly as intended, but you must agree that it was certainly the best tour anyone has ever given you?" He laughed, his voice cracking a little at the beginning but returning to the light musical trill it carried in no time.

"Predators can never resist easy prey, can they? It must be so odd for you, then, that you have stumbled into the web of a beast far greater than yourself. I would very much like to make a deal with you, Corinna... Would you be amenable to discussing business?"

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Day 3 - Ominar - Approximately 09:00

Nabriales had been finishing clearing up his equipment after he and Vi had finished bottling the new recipe of lust potions he had brewed while the various conversations had taken place outside of his shop, and he had paid absolutely no mind to them (or to the possibility that they were going on in the first place). It shook him out of his reverie when the bell adorning his door gave off its gentle chime, years of conditioning allowing it to draw his focus regardless of which vista of imagination he was currently preoccupying himself with. He turned to the door with his characteristic smile - toothy, genuine, and ever-so alluring - and greeted both Damian and Corinna with open arms, gesticulating his happiness at the arrival of new customers. It had been about time Damian had showed up, and Nabriales was eager to test precisely how potent his latest batch of lust potions was. He'd planned to test them with Vi, but she was the type to be impressed with action rather than word, and it had been imperative in his mind that he pay for her services as soon as possible. A native of Priscus such as she was a valuable prize to the Alchemist who prized the rarest of ingredients, and he did so enjoy having her in his service.

Still, Damian was an even rarer jewel - inexperience and innocence, practically an antithesis to the experienced and extremely well-travelled Nabriales. He saw a lot of qualities in Damian that he had simply never seen in himself, and found the boy fascinating as a result. He'd not had the heart to tell him that he could have paid his debt off a hundred million times over with the last decade's revenue alone (sans interest), and Accountant - 8 had warned him of being too free with giving money to his employees due to something called 'taxes'. He didn't particularly understand it himself (precisely why he had so many accountants on retainer), but he had nevertheless been advised not to just up and solve his employees problems like he could with the various orphans around town. That said, most of the orphans of Ominar were far more well off than those with parents due to the charitable efforts of two particular Taeryns.

"My, my... Simply stunning, darling! You're picture perfect, a true femme fatale!" were the first words out of Nabriales' mouth. He had taken particular note of Corinna's fashion sense, and due to his experience and various vis-related senses had immediately worked out at least a somewhat cognizant sense of precisely what she was - that was to say - not human in the slightest, though the verisimilitude of her masquerade would be quite convincing to one unfamiliar with the more esoteric elements of the world.

"We can discuss business once you've had a look around, hon. My little helper here looks like he's all riled up and raring to give you the best tour of your life! Be a lamb and come here for a second, Damian?" Nabriales then asked, holding his hand out towards the young man and willing into existence one of the freshly brewed lust potions from earlier. If he had to describe its potency in the form of allegory, it would be more of a shove than a push - but he was not quite certain of its potency on Licentia just yet. He had managed fairly successfully to attain full bioavailability for both humans (and their far superior counterparts) and Prae in the same potion, but the tiniest fractals of vis allowing the solution to achieve almost total uptake were ever so tricky to manipulate to a position in which all three species would feel the full and total effects of the potion as quickly as possible. It would be an experiment in and of itself to see just how Damian would react.

"I need you to test this particular potion for me. You can take it before giving Corinna her tour - it will certainly enhance the experience!" He smiled, half-genuinely, with a sultry wink at Corinna for emphasis. Though his mood was jovial, there was an underlying tone of authority and seriousness within his voice - he would not accept no for an answer, and Damian would know that feeling fairly intimately by now.

Naruto: Yoshin (AU)

Hyakune su Jikangai, Kyoko

As the actions of her colleagues and subordinates went on around her, Kyoko was once again deep within the recesses of her mind. She controlled an unfathomably vast network of spies and informants - unwilling or otherwise - and could tap into the various nexuses of these networks to determine the state of the island and obtain real-time updates as to what was happening. Despite the Sankage's disappearance, Kyoko elected not to activate any of her sleeper agents - though they would be useful, the present was a time for willing co-operation and fostering trust. It was not a time to display her hand early in the unfolding game they all found themselves a part of. Between Riku's sensory abilities, assurances from Kinjiro, her own spy network, and the general consensus of the Kyokujitsugakure shinobi there was only one clear outcome: Sankage Ayameko was missing, but not dead.

No matter how many times Kyoko replayed the instant of the attack in her mind, even with her own exceptional sensory techniques (albeit in short range) she could not explain what had happened to the Sankage.

Relaying her thoughts to Yuhi via the mental network shared by high-ranking members of the Kyuuseishu, Kyoko made clear the plan for action. Yuhi relayed the order further, and in a matter of moments the entire island would be abuzz with members of the Kyuuseishu co-ordinating rescue efforts in three teams: Midare, Setsu, and Gekka. With that, the namesakes of the teams would show up - three fairly average looking shinobi, each co-ordinating various rescue efforts mentally.

"Riku, aid Midare with your sensory abilities. Relay the locations of those wounded, but take no further independent action without direction from a Kyuuseishu operative. Kyūryū, assist Midare with the excavation of any debris and the relief effort in general."

"Setsu, aid Shiō with the wounded - fetch Kinjiro and ask her to activate the medical facility. Shiō, you will find all medical tools necessary within the medical facility, as well as beds for those injured. You have my express permission to make use of any and all resources, as well as to give orders to others via Setsu. Please save as many as can be saved."

"Gekka, please enact the remainder of the crisis protocols. Any who wish to assist with the logistical efforts should join him."

Immediately after she gave the orders, Kyoko walked past Norio and waved her hand at him as she strode past. He would immediately collapse in a heap into the guards Ayameko had assigned to him, knocked unconscious by a powerful genjutsu that would keep him completely comatose until such a time as he could be thoroughly investigated.

"Kikue, I know that the matter of the bijuu are something you hold very closely to your heart - assist whomever you choose in whatever fashion you deem most appropriate. I will continue to co-ordinate efforts while interrogating Norio, but I would ask that you offer leadership and guidance in my physical absence. Please work with Shien, her entourage, and Yuhi to aid your own as best as you can." she spoke, before snapping her fingers and continuing to walk out of the room. The two bodyguards picked Norio up and carried him slightly behind Kyoko. Kyoko had nothing further to add in the rescue effort - her delegation would certainly see to that - but none other than she could unlock the secrets of Norio's mind.

After a few moments of walking, Kyoko placed her palm onto an otherwise ordinary section of wall, dispelling a potent Genjutsu placed upon it, and instructed Norio's guardians to bring him through to a plain room. The only real defining feature of the room was a chair, which had various shackles and restraints placed upon it. She instructed the guards to strap Norio into the chair, and begun the real work of delving into his mind.

Jikangai, Yuhi

As soon as Riku offered what Yuhi was sure he thought was a witty retort, he was prepared to open his mouth and correct the fool, but Kyoko spoke to him using their mental relay and he immediately set upon doing as she commanded. He was full well prepared to verbally spar with anyone, but when Kyoko used their mental network it meant that things were more serious than they seemed - and the current crisis already seemed similar.

Moving alongside Gekko, Yuhi took a stack of papers from him and animated them, creating paper aeroplanes sturdy enough to carry the wounded and fly with an imbuement of potent Fuuton chakra. For convenience's sake, he sealed them into another sheet of paper that their bulk might not fill up the entire room, and handed them to anyone who volunteered to assist Midare (or was ordered to) to help them with their task. After that, he left the room in order to co-ordinate efforts on Kyoko's behalf. He also wanted a chance to look at the shrine himself, as despite the nature of the crisis he was still extremely curious about Kinjiro and Chiyoko's analysis.

Jikangai, Kinjiro

"Hm. Pray inform me at once when you have determined precisely what the cause of the malfunction is. I am required elsewhere." Kinjiro noted, before going over to a seemingly unused building. Impressing into it a fiendishly complex primer seal, Kinjiro willed the building to life and it responded in kind, raising itself out of the ground to reveal what was essentially a fully stocked hospital. Using the same microphone as before, Kinjiro asked the entire island to bring all medical personnel, as well as the wounded, to the new building for treatment.