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Post by Circe on Jan 9, 2020 18:40:11 GMT -6
Xiaolian looked at the scalpel in her hand and then the worm. "It's saying that it's friendly.. ish." At least that's what she was able to extract from the conversation. She was sure that there had been some verb disagreements and differences in nouns. Not many spoke anything close to her native language, and while Chinese could be considered close it wasn't nearly as forceful as Ba-Shu could be when the words were applied correctly.
"And fuck no I'm not going to kill it." If anything she would have tossed it off the current plane and out into the void. Very little could even survive out there, and usually what ended up out there ended up dead. But it had been so long since she'd even had to step into a role remotely like that of a Guardian. That was half the problem her family had had with her joining MCU and Council's Lotus program, it was encouraging her to turn her back on her duty bound obligations to Heaven and it's will. Not that Heaven had done a whole lot for them after they had left their home.
Glancing back at the worm and then to the bit of metal in her hand, she grinned. "你要這個?"1 She asked it, waving the sharp blade back and forth. "金屬?"2
1: You want this? 2: Metal?
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Post by littlekreen on Jan 10, 2020 6:45:40 GMT -6
Though a rising intonation its imitation of cheer the tone ended sanded off at its peaks. What handful of words it had learned as 'greetings' it decided to use at Evaline's exclamation. Greetings one learned quickly but others an odd multipurpose cog it hadn't yet defined. Some are still used in friendly contexts but it hadn't had much time with the human it was to serve.
"Hi! Carajo!" replied the mimic to Evaline's complaint though ignorant two languages were different.
The four eyes blinked in turn while following the scalpel. A metal tool of substance better than some parts of the arm were made from. It retreated just slightly into the arm as it grew colder.
A voice in monotone followed the scalpel as it moved, "是。 我們需要材料。 我們需要能量。 另一個人可以使用手臂。"1
It reached over and hauled a bit of the bag closer in its beak, "清除障礙。 比外界冷。 黑色比較溫暖。 禁止破壞直接的人類財產。"2
Its substance could pierce the bag if it tried. Both layers of bag clearly the property of the other human whom sealed it inside both of them. It wanted very much for the warmth of the world to return.
1. Yes. We need materials. We need energy. Another person can use the arm. 2. Clear obstacles. Colder than the outside world. Black is warmer. The destruction of direct human property is prohibited.
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Post by demikara on Jan 13, 2020 17:34:18 GMT -6
It spoke! Or maybe it just made it seem like it spoke. Either way, apparently the specialist understood what was going on. That was good. "What does it want?" Probably to be set free but she was definitely not going to let that happen, not in her autopsy. The fact that it had a beak at all and could somehow speak through it was disconcerting at best. She peered over Boyuan and frowned.
"If it wants to be let out, don't let it out in my autopsy." She was firm on that at least. It was not going to be set loose in her chamber. The specialist could take it outside for that.
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Post by Circe on Jan 13, 2020 17:42:26 GMT -6
Xiaolian huffed indignantly, she had been considering letting it out in the room, if only because it might be easier to contain that way. "Fine have it your way." She grumbled as she approached the bagged arm. Evaline was one of those people who could be more of a pain to work with than anyone else. "I'll just hand it to Bronson then." She added off hand. It didn't seem to be that much of a threat, and it would keep Molly busy enough that actual work with the Cedar Ridge issue could be done.
Plucking the bag off the counter, she disappeared with the arm before another word of debate could be said.
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Post by littlekreen on Jan 14, 2020 17:43:22 GMT -6
The worm bobbed as it was lifted and inquired from inside the bag, [Zhège dìfāng zài nǎ? Nàxiē shì jīnhǎi de rén liú zài yuántóu.]1
It shrunk a bit further into the arm as they left the room, [Zhàng'ài huì qīngchú ma? Pú rén shì lěng de.]2
1. Where is this place? Those who are Jinhai stay at the source. 2. Will the obstacles be cleared? This servant is cold.
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Post by Circe on Jan 14, 2020 18:16:10 GMT -6
Xiaolian thought for a moment, trying to remember what they had initially called this realm so long ago when the Ba-Shu had fled from their own home. "I believe it's called the Eighth Calm of the Fourth Valley. We are not far from the realm of Heaven, but still not close." She explained. The naming conventions were different for each group that could travel between the planes or branches of the tree. The Ba-Shu tended to see certain worlds as calms and where they fell on the tree as valleys. "Human terms are earth, the united states, texas.. MCU Dallas."
What to do with the worm was now the main question, and giving it to Molly was still the most agreeable idea she'd come up with. "I'm taking you to someone who will, yes." Xiaolian added before reappearing behind Molly.
"Hey Bronson, got something for you."
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Post by demikara on Jan 14, 2020 18:27:49 GMT -6
Molly jumped. "You need to come with bells! That isn't allowed in the building. The Warden said so." More importantly, Molly couldn't do that because of the binding, and she was incredibly jealous. Otherwise, she'd have no problem with it. "I ought to stick a nasty ward on your chair." Though now that she said that, Xiaolian was likely to just give the chair to Officer Chihuahua.
Still, the other promised something. "What do you have for me? And please don't say paperwork." That wasn't funny the first time and it wasn't going to be funny after that either. The other greatly enjoyed giving her paperwork though Molly supposed it was more than she really should just do the mandatory paperwork without prompting.
But if she did that, she'd never get to annoy Xiaolian, so there was that.
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Post by littlekreen on Jan 14, 2020 19:01:51 GMT -6
A muffled voice from her hand below the desk an old Chinese dialect, [We don't have enough dust to hold the Almanac. Our place in this lexicon is 'void at the foot of Ophaniel'.]
It looked about the room and to the windows outside continuing in that same tongue, [If Rome has fallen what states could be united? Has the fallen emperor been reborn?]
[Is it Aetherkind? We know the bones. We cannot see the spirit.] Remarked the worm with a clack in fae tongue its flickering eyes making a quick assessment of Molly's facial structure.
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Post by Circe on Jan 14, 2020 19:15:18 GMT -6
"The Warden told you no, and I am not you." Xiaolian pointed out bluntly. Unlike Molly, Xiaolian didn't abuse the priviledge and even came to work in a mundane manner. "And unlike you, I don't go places I'm not invited." She added. It wasn't a kind reminder of just how Molly had gotten herself on such restriction, but it was a reminder none the less.
Briefly turning her attention to the worm, she sighed. ["Aiya... this one will explain everything to you. They are well versed in the human realm and I am not."] Xiaolian answered. She didn't often speak anything but English outside of home, and to hear her speaking the strange language was unusual. For those like her who had come fleeing war and its terrors, there was still a fear that their safety would be compromised. Assimilation had been an unfortunate choice, but it had kept them safe. But even then Xiaolian was only familiar with the last fifty to hundred years. Even that was sketchy at best based on the fact most of it had been spent living in a Ba-Shu community. They celebrated different things, ate different foods, and had different cultural ideals.
"This, figure out what the hell it is and what it wants. I don't necessarily think it's evil, but... it's not something I've encountered." She then said turning to Molly and shoved the evidence bag at the other. "Baird will answer any questions you have about how and where she found it."
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Post by demikara on Jan 14, 2020 19:34:22 GMT -6
["Oh I understood that!"] Molly took the evidence bag and put it on her desk and examined the...creature? It looked like an arm more than anything else. "I've got it then. This looks like my realm anyway. Or at least, it speaks fae." Pretty well also, though an odd dialect. She smiled at it and removed the outermost layer of evidence bag. ["Hello. You may call me Molly. What may I call you?"] She so rarely got to speak her language at work. But this looked more like Ratatoskr business than anything else. She could always call Pwyll for the pick up. He'd be willing to come for it. She had a way to get him to come to her after all, and if not him, then one of the mentors.
["Can you promise on your magic to not cause anyone in this realm harm? If so, I can remove the last bag."]
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Post by littlekreen on Jan 14, 2020 22:11:07 GMT -6
The worm's clasped end extends from the arm as one layer is removed. The world was less cold than it was before as freezing misty air cleared. Its body swirls dust about with a wind of its own design though the arm gears turn less as it withdraws. Sandstorms along its lower exterior by the arm fall inward concreting to a solid surface. The four flat spark eyes cant with an eighth turn to get a good look at Molly. Though the spark-eyes did not blink the individual particles of the swirl gathered to larger forms for a moment.
[Hello, Molly maybe-aetherkind. We are a dream engine. We impulse creations of the first machine for the Overbeing. Humankind unconquered.] Answered the creature in a tacit too perfect mimic of a pleased voice. Though not intentionally evasive its personal sense of individuality is tenuous at best.
Then explains that dusty creature in fair monotone, [By dicta of the Fallen Emperor, we will not attack Humankind. We will only attack if rightfully compelled. If Rome is dead then none remain to compel. We will defend Humankind. Humankind is permitted by Dicta to harm Humankind.]
Its four swirls looked at both ends of the arm inside the bag, [My purpose is now partly void.]
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Post by demikara on Jan 15, 2020 12:33:31 GMT -6
Such a weird dialect. But she got the gist of what it was saying. Carefully, she removed the final bag. ["Try to behave. I will stick you back in the bag if you don't."] And that was a promise. It didn't seem to like the bag and she'd take that. ["What was your purpose?"] Some sort of arm, by the looks of it. Either way, the more information she had, the better off she would be when it came to solving the issue at hand. Right now, the issue at hand was returning this creature to a safe habitat. Preferably one where it wouldn't cause havoc or die because of habitat rejection. That meant she needed more information. She put on her Ratatoskr hat and wondered which bough this creature was from. Definitely not the same as they were on, or at least, not the same fork.
Either way, enough information and she could probably return it home. Or have Pwyll return it home. That was more likely given her current binding. At least she wasn't stuck on the farm. she'd go nuts, stuck on the farm. More importantly, she'd do her best to drive both Zander and Alex nuts so they'd find a way to remove the binding.
Maybe she should get stuck on the farm.
No, they were of the opinion the binding was her just desserts and she needed to learn a lesson via the forceful time out. So far, the only lesson she had learned was don't get caught. That appeared to be the wrong answer when they asked however, so she was sticking to a firm I don't know. Anything else got her lectures on behaving like an unseelie.
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Post by littlekreen on Jan 19, 2020 20:24:09 GMT -6
Plastic crinkles push away wisps of dust along the worm's surface as the bag opens. It emerges into the light in sluggish haste not waiting for fingers to get out of the way. This as much revealed its false solidity as contact would show the silken rope to dismantle itself into fine threads to evade contact with skin. Even as far that it simply parted to form multiple small worms to evade a palm. Though the march of silt-sized parts across skin would be rather dry smoothness as they left nothing behind. Nor did they crawl across things the levitating motes only intersecting by momentary impacts of traffic.
Divergent parts repour into the whole as it hovers in space above the bag. The misty surface now an organized shine of segmented parts. It looked about the area up and down a small erupting ring folds it inside out. It needed to warm all the motes inside that had grown too cold. Even the void had more magic than that bag and it did not want to go back.
Once its small mind was whole enough to respond its flare eyes ignited from pale grey to white the voice from its beak, [We will comply as best as we understand. The bag is very undesirable. It is our purpose to attend the arm, listen for the will of humankind, and to enact that will through the arm.]
It descended a moment to look into the bag where its arm was the lower end clacking at the gap. After a moment it went in beside the exit hole in the arm's hardware to pry open the flat space beside it. A small compartment within and tightly packed were vertical stacks of tiny gold sheaves. An angular reflective pattern in writ in mica on one side a gold sheen on the other. The lower beak smushed itself onto the compartment as the rearward beak pivoted to look at Molly. The thin scales marched up its sides as if a horde of leafcutter ants. They eventually stacked in layers as each jockeyed independently for a position in the pattern.
It used a particularly archaic form of compound name when the top beak continued its dispassionate voice, [We were created in the void-at-the-foot-of-Ophaniel for the Sergio human. Then brought to him that is now no more. We would like metal and stone to repair our shelter anyway. We can still be useful.]
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Post by demikara on Jan 20, 2020 12:16:16 GMT -6
So it was a type of sentience then and moves the arm at the commands of a human the arm was attached to. Molly considered the request. It was semi-sentient at least, and she was betting more like an AI than anything else. ["Come with me. There's stone outside you can have. I don't know of metal I can give you."] Carefully, she lifted the arm/worm in her arms and carried it outside. There was a decorative rock area filled with stones. They wouldn't notice if a few went missing, probably. More importantly, being outside actually gave her some measure of privacy. ["Where is the void-at-the-foot-of-Ophaniel?"] It may not know, but she could ask at least. ["Tell me about it, and I will try and get your there again."]
She'd have to consult her address book, given this was definitely not a native to this world, but as she set the arm/worm in the rocks, she cast a simple ward to have people overlook her and pulled the address book out of the ether where it was stored. The chain attaching it to her wrist was clunky at best, but it also served its purpose. Even when not visible, the address book remained attached to her. It was always there, waiting for use. She had it for a number of decades now, and it was kept up to date and more importantly, searchable.
Carefully, she opened to the index and checked for Ophaniel. If she was lucky, that word enough would be enough to identify where the creature was from. If she was not lucky, she'd need to rely on more detail from the arm/worm to find out where it was from and maybe she'd be able to get something more out of it.
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Post by littlekreen on Jan 20, 2020 19:07:09 GMT -6
In absence of the worm within the arm had quite a bit of heft to it compared to your usual plastic prosthetic. The gold scales from that small compartment instead coated the surface of the worm itself. After several flipped waves of tiny scales they settled. More of a burnished gold except for the beaks at each end it did not shine lighting though a silken cool to the touch on her arm. The scales a quiet aethervoltaic panel against the veil intent to serve it in emergency repairs. Death of the user certainly qualified.
There it sat clung as a huge raindrop from more surface tension by way of weightlessness than a muscled compression. The worm stretched nearly her whole forearm and two thumbs in diameter. Though it was shorter by raising one end for each of the swirling flare eyes set on black to look about. It repeatedly checked over the side of her arm as they walked to make sure the arm was still there.
Less dusty a voice answers Molly's query once they were underway, [There are many metals we are equipped for harvesting. There are buckets of spare resources everywhere. We could stop at one.]
Four sparks pointed at a trash can pauses at how to describe where they came from, [We are too small to contain the Almanac. We only know wanderer's words from trespassers the great machine has subsumed. The Overbeing came to be after the Fallen Emperor's great machine was constrained.]
While Molly busied herself with reading her ward washed over the creature. A burst of frenetic activity its form dragged sympathetically into another shape. The substance very heavily morphic by thought shaped to that of a burnished gold spiny lizard. The worm crawled down from its arm even if it did so mostly by poor mimicry. Among other creatures, these engines awaiting installation ate more than their fair share of vermin at the apartment building. Organic fuel for their inner energies. Spiny lizard the most familiar creature memory within its mind it could put near its own volume. Small bbs of impurities sprang out from its back as the maw split to gather a rock to consumed silicon from decorative stone. The 'lizard' swallowed a rock whole if its mouth still split vertically at the head and jaw.
Voice undaunted it continues to use the old compound words for locations as aged as its knowledge was even to the modern fae let alone humankind, "The Void-at-the-Foot-of-Ophaniel is below Red-King's-Hall down the path of All-Seasons-End past the Grave-of-Unwritten-Slaugh and within the Tears-of-Recusal. It is warmer than the bag. Trespassers enter and the storm drains their essence. We may not interfere. Then we eat them when they are gone. We cannot leave until it broke. Neither can the trespassers."
Places as myths follow explorers and the 'grave of the unwritten slaugh' was one of them among obscure unseen lore. None could find it or at least none that found it returned. The story had quite the history if one bothered to look for it and no shortage of tall tales. Mentioned was it that many books with such written knowledge found an untimely end unless part false. Though through the ages explorers and careful sages kept its rare pieces alive enough to fuel the curiosity of humans and dimension wanderers of any stripe.
Ophaniel was a different matter altogether. The index directed to the written name of a servant of the heavens. Though even so the description among technical concerns is noted as likely part bombastic embellishment.
'Ruling Prince of the Fifth Heaven or plane of existence, as well as the Fifth Order of Angels known as Cherubim. The Book Of Enoch - He has 16 faces, 4 on each side. 100 wings for each side and 8,766 eyes for each hour in the year. Therefore, 2,191 eyes on each side of four. His eyes flash lightning that nobody can look into his eyes or be consumed by them. His height also unimaginable to go from his feet to his head requires a journey of 2,500 years. As Enoch described.'
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