Serious Plots 6: Srs bsns

[Recaiden]

Arlem nods.
"Firstly, I would have nothing to gain by betraying you afterwards. I would have to fight you anyway, drag you all the way back here, etc. And for what? Just to be cruel."
"Secondly, you lose nothing by going along with it. If we don't make a deal, the outcome is a fight, here and now. If I don't keep the deal, the outcome is a fight, then and there. You would have to wait out the time for your bonds to decay anyway. But if we find her quickly, I will help send you on your way home."
"I could make an oath or offer you collateral to be returned when the mission is complete, but you'd still have to trust that I value my word or whatever I give you."
She keeps her voice even throughout.
"What do you say?"

[Morty]

[Dwarven Tomb]

One feels that Thrice-Gazer would be smiling, if it had a face.

"Well argued, mortal... no, you're not mortal, are you? Even if I don't know what you are, instead. I will accompany you as you search for those two mortals and you will send me off to the Other Place once you've found them."

[Recaiden]

If it doesn't have a face, where does it keep its eyes?

"I'm more or less mortal. Definitely used to be. Well, they told me I wasn't allowed to die, and that I need not worry about growing old, but have I really changed that much? I don't think so."
"Anyway, we have a deal!"
Arlem extends an arm towards Thrice-Gazer and teleports the pair of them away. Bounce through the ocean base, then Mallside, drop by VIGIL to leave a message for Wenomir about her progress, and then they can really begin the search.

KR has some connection to MERC, that much is clear. But she could be anywhere now.

[8BitNinja]

[Could Palace]

As they ascend, likely taking almost ten minutes due to the sheer length of the stairs. The wind up here is harsh, and the cold no better, but at least the stairs have railings that are surprisingly sturdy for something made out of mist. The stairs appear to lead up into an actual cloud that is unusually close to the ground. When they draw closer however, they can see a double door form in the cloud at the very top of the stairs.

As they draw closer, the doors open up before them, revealing a huge palace that is somehow made out of nothing but white clouds. There is a massive hall with pillars stretching towards a curved roof where black clouds make themselves out as cloud sculptures of mighty dragons that fly above them.
Floating in the air above the floor are small glass spheres that seem to radiate welcoming heat that seem to be contained within the cloud walls of this place. If they look closer at these floating baubles, they will be able to see that they're containing flames.

But as they might look around the hall, a enormous dark shape descends from above in a circular motion. Its long serpentine body suddenly curling around around nearly every pillar of the hall without even touching the floor as it remains floating just above it. Somehow, despite it's long body, managing to not disturb even one of the glass baubles that are scattered over the area. Rising above this body are two raven-like wings that settles down near the mighty dragons head. Two long ears crowned by even longer golden horns framing its white eyes.

The dragon opens its maw, and it speaks. "And who consider themselves important enough to seek out my aid?" It's words echoing through the hall. "Since I assume that's why you are here. My time is too valuable to waste on fools."

Steve takes of his helmet and kneels. "I am Sir Steven Lightblade, and this is Luvon Shire. We are not anyone of importance, but we seek a cure to our curses. We only wish to advance the cause of righteousness, and we are also willing to pay to be healed."

[Murkus]

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

"Ah ha, well." Val glances at Astrana. "Shall we?" He was never not going to be nervous about this. Best tear the bandaid off. Provided Astrana agrees, Val will take one of the offered seats.

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Astrana glances at Belfidius, wondering why he didn't speak up himself. Was it that he couldn't speak the tongue? He certainly seemed to understand at least parts of what was said, how else could he serve as a waiter?
Perhaps he simply had been taught not to speak when superiors were talking. Astrana had a sneaking suspicion there was something up with that, but she wasn't one to raise such concerns. She was just there to observe injustice and judge for herself.
"Sounds like he is very good at what he does." She remarks, smiling yet again. "But yes, I'm not one to decline something free when it is offered to me." And so she will sit down next to Val.

Belfidius will see to it that the gentle-ladies are strapped in and safe before, just as he did a moment ago, shouldering each chair with their weight upon it. They might get the sense that it is a bit of an effort for him, but he is abominably strong, even for a creature twice their size.

There is the dry mouthed, anticipatory moment before the leap. The pop of Belfidius's knees as he coils like a spring. The awful, exciting lurch of lift... then the ascent so rapid that it makes one feel as though their bladder is going to drop directly out of them.

Then it is over, and Belfidius is stepping lightly upon a wooden balcony, his body bouncing slightly with his burdens. Val and Astrana will be witness to the awesome sight of the inner atrium. Like a miniature Roman colosseum, a ring of seats surrounds a pit of golden sand. Rising from the pit is a wooden showman's stage, ringed at it's edge with electric lights that buzz softly to accompany the susurrus of soft voices in the chamber.

Belfidius carries the ladies a little ways further, depositing them where they can easily reach some of the red velvet seating. It seems the show is starting presently... though Belfidius isn't departing! He hesitates, apparently embarrassed as he recoils in on himself somewhat, before asking in a burbling voice, "Tickets?"

[Gullara]

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Val holds Astrana's arm in a vice grip as they suddenly soar through the air. His nails might hurt a bit. Oops. Once they're up, Val is a bit shaky, especially on his heels. "Uh, Astrana?" It's Astrana that has the tickets, after all.

[Green Elf]

[Could Palace]

As they ascend, likely taking almost ten minutes due to the sheer length of the stairs. The wind up here is harsh, and the cold no better, but at least the stairs have railings that are surprisingly sturdy for something made out of mist. The stairs appear to lead up into an actual cloud that is unusually close to the ground. When they draw closer however, they can see a double door form in the cloud at the very top of the stairs.

As they draw closer, the doors open up before them, revealing a huge palace that is somehow made out of nothing but white clouds. There is a massive hall with pillars stretching towards a curved roof where black clouds make themselves out as cloud sculptures of mighty dragons that fly above them.
Floating in the air above the floor are small glass spheres that seem to radiate welcoming heat that seem to be contained within the cloud walls of this place. If they look closer at these floating baubles, they will be able to see that they're containing flames.

But as they might look around the hall, a enormous dark shape descends from above in a circular motion. Its long serpentine body suddenly curling around around nearly every pillar of the hall without even touching the floor as it remains floating just above it. Somehow, despite it's long body, managing to not disturb even one of the glass baubles that are scattered over the area. Rising above this body are two raven-like wings that settles down near the mighty dragons head. Two long ears crowned by even longer golden horns framing its white eyes.

The dragon opens its maw, and it speaks. "And who consider themselves important enough to seek out my aid?" It's words echoing through the hall. "Since I assume that's why you are here. My time is too valuable to waste on fools."

Steve takes of his helmet and kneels. "I am Sir Steven Lightblade, and this is Luvon Shire. We are not anyone of importance, but we seek a cure to our curses. We only wish to advance the cause of righteousness, and we are also willing to pay to be healed."

Luvon kneels as well. "Our efforts are greatly helping the Nexus, recently against chaotic demons. We need our curses to be lifted to continue effectively."

[Shadowcaller]

[Could Palace]

The dragon settles down on the floor, staring down at the two as it seems to consider what they have said. "Nexus you say." She suddenly remarks while slowly drawing closer to them, nostrils flaring, drawing in air as if smelling them. "Yes, there is that scent about you." The dragon withdraws again, but doesn't let them out of its sight. "I could help you, people. But that will require you to trust me. I can only alter your aspects the way they were back before it they allow me to. Therefore, you have to put all your trust and faith in me at least for a little while. Is that a acceptable sacrifice?" The dragon tilts its head as it peers at them closely. "I would of course require proof of this trust before I start, or things might end badly for you."

Belfidius will see to it that the gentle-ladies are strapped in and safe before, just as he did a moment ago, shouldering each chair with their weight upon it. They might get the sense that it is a bit of an effort for him, but he is abominably strong, even for a creature twice their size.

There is the dry mouthed, anticipatory moment before the leap. The pop of Belfidius's knees as he coils like a spring. The awful, exciting lurch of lift... then the ascent so rapid that it makes one feel as though their bladder is going to drop directly out of them.

Then it is over, and Belfidius is stepping lightly upon a wooden balcony, his body bouncing slightly with his burdens. Val and Astrana will be witness to the awesome sight of the inner atrium. Like a miniature Roman colosseum, a ring of seats surrounds a pit of golden sand. Rising from the pit is a wooden showman's stage, ringed at it's edge with electric lights that buzz softly to accompany the susurrus of soft voices in the chamber.

Belfidius carries the ladies a little ways further, depositing them where they can easily reach some of the red velvet seating. It seems the show is starting presently... though Belfidius isn't departing! He hesitates, apparently embarrassed as he recoils in on himself somewhat, before asking in a burbling voice, "Tickets?"

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Val holds Astrana's arm in a vice grip as they suddenly soar through the air. Her nails might hurt a bit. Oops. Once they're up, Val is a bit shaky, especially on her heels. "Uh, Astrana?" It's Astrana that has the tickets, after all.

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Astrana's right eye twitches as she climbs off, that had been a bit more danger than she asked for when they got here. Next time, she would just go for the standard seats. Without a word, she simply takes the pockets out of her dress and hands them to Belfidius and then sits down on her shaky legs. She needed a moment to relax after that.

[8BitNinja]

[Could Palace]

The dragon settles down on the floor, staring down at the two as it seems to consider what they have said. "Nexus you say." She suddenly remarks while slowly drawing closer to them, nostrils flaring, drawing in air as if smelling them. "Yes, there is that scent about you." The dragon withdraws again, but doesn't let them out of its sight. "I could help you, people. But that will require you to trust me. I can only alter your aspects the way they were back before it they allow me to. Therefore, you have to put all your trust and faith in me at least for a little while. Is that a acceptable sacrifice?" The dragon tilts its head as it peers at them closely. "I would of course require proof of this trust before I start, or things might end badly for you."

Steve says "Sounds like a very easy to pay price for me. My entire life and cause is built on faith. What do you need me to do?"

[Green Elf]

[Could Palace]

The dragon settles down on the floor, staring down at the two as it seems to consider what they have said. "Nexus you say." She suddenly remarks while slowly drawing closer to them, nostrils flaring, drawing in air as if smelling them. "Yes, there is that scent about you." The dragon withdraws again, but doesn't let them out of its sight. "I could help you, people. But that will require you to trust me. I can only alter your aspects the way they were back before it they allow me to. Therefore, you have to put all your trust and faith in me at least for a little while. Is that a acceptable sacrifice?" The dragon tilts its head as it peers at them closely. "I would of course require proof of this trust before I start, or things might end badly for you."

"It's already done. You're really our only hope right now." Luvon says.

[Shadowcaller]

[Cloud Palace]

"Excellent." The dragon grins. "The proof of your trust will be a simple thing. Tell me your darkest secret, something you never told anyone else. I, Menggshi of the North Wind, solemnly swear not to reveal your secret to anyone." It starts to raise its head above them. "If you can entrust me with that, I will know that I have your trust."

[Murkus]

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Belfidius stamps them with what passes for a thumb on his insectoid hand and some sort of red dye he produces from his pocket. He then offers them back to Astrana.

A few minutes pass as everyone gets aboard and settled. Thankfully not everyone came in the same way as Astrana and Valente. The more well-to-do and mysterious patrons of the show appear to have arrived via another airship entirely. They file into their rows, a collage of pale flesh and bright colors, jabbering as they come.

Slowly, the seats are all filled and the lights go down. A figure suddenly rises from the smoke and shadows on the wooden stage. It's the fellow in the cloak, stovepipe hat, and twintailed suit, as anonymous as ever. His basso voice rolls forth over the assembly in a luxurious, kingly bellow. "Welcome, one and all, to the most exclusive show on this arm of the Spiral. My name, as you might have guessed, is Croupelt. It's been at least six turns since I've last seen this world, and it's been as hospitable as ever." He gives the whole room a grand bow. There is the sound of a smile and something secretive in his words as he says, "I hope you'll appreciate my brand of hospitality just as much as I appreciate yours."

"I give you only this warning," says Croupelt. "This show is not for the faint of heart, but no person harmed will be in such a dire state as they appear to be. Besides... it isn't as though they're anyone you know."

Croupelt fades into the background, appearing again throughout the production only briefly. What follows is a daring and macabre synthesis of circus, play, and magic show. A bizarre parade of creatures both man-shaped and not in a combination of tattered Victorian garb and bleached white plague masks emerge to equip the stage. Oak and iron props of a lewd, savage, and gratuitous nature - sometimes all three - emerge to set the scene. Devices bizarrely like torture implements raise both 'actors' and pieces of setting aloft with taut black ropes that creak and crack.

The show is difficult to follow but undeniably gorgeous. At its darkest, bleakest moments, it is a deeply unsettling and intimate affair. At its highest notes, the creatures and people moving about shine with a sort of ragged light and life that transcends mere art. Some of these entities act out scenes with no obvious beginning or end. Some of them end in lascivious, acrobatic couplings, some end in crimson hued strife. Murdered 'actors' topple from the stage and sink into the sand, the colosseum swallowing them, spilled blood and all. Illusions, several of them conducted by Croupelt himself and several more by his understudies, fill the interludes or empower scenes requiring something in the way of 'special effects'. Mirages waver and flicker like a funhouse mirror. Gorgeous women and horrors beyond description appear and disappear. Darkness leaps up to devour the troupe and is beaten back by bursts of sparking powder and the simmering intensity of spotlights from above.

Several tales are told, some as old as the concept of a story itself, some new and strange and utterly incomprehensible. These are spiced up at least with the taming of terrible monsters and the performance of death defying acrobatic feats. Once or twice an acrobat misses their mark and tumbles into the dark beyond the stage with a snapping sound that's gruesome enough to grey your hair. Moments after, they emerge from the same shadows unharmed, swinging on a long red rope to rejoin the stage or play and leap above the audience. Once, a scantily clad woman in a gilded stork mask swings close to Astrana and Valente, and favors them with a kiss blown from her hand.

As the show must surely be approaching it's finale, Croupelt appears at the top of the stage, where a veritable mountain of props have collected. The wood and the colosseum together look like a wasteland, the colorful ruins of the performing arts. Croupelt raises his gloves to audience.

"For this next segment," he bellows, "We require a willing volunteer from among you! Please, if you're willing, don't be shy!" Lights leap and scatter over the audience as several brave souls raise their hands and whistle or shout. Those intimidated by the show might be put out by the lights, feeling like fugitives being searched after with a vicious intent.

[8BitNinja]

[Cloud Palace]

"Excellent." The dragon grins. "The proof of your trust will be a simple thing. Tell me your darkest secret, something you never told anyone else. I, Menggshi of the North Wind, solemnly swear not to reveal your secret to anyone." It starts to raise its head above them. "If you can entrust me with that, I will know that I have your trust."

Steve takes a deep breath and says quietly "When I was a squire, I stole a coinpurse from a friend. While I prayed for forgiveness and performed penance, I never paid him back. He probably still thinks those 5 gold pieces are lost."

[Gullara]

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Throughout the performance, Val's reactions range from open oohs and ahs to stunned silence. He makes a few shocked noises more than once when the show becomes very convincingly dire and claps after particularly impressive displays. All in all, it's a great show!

And now they're asking for volunteers from the audience? Interesting. Val loops his arm in Astrana's and gives it a squeeze. "Do you think we should volunteer." He grins foolishly. He's not sure he would even want that much attention on him, but he's so caught up in the atmosphere that at least suggesting it sounds fun.

[Shadowcaller]

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

Astrana applauds every act in the show, but attempts to come off as more restrained in her expressions as she sees the crowd around her. She wasn't going to fall into mob-mentality here, but she certainly didn't want to come off as too stiff either, it was a impressive show after all, even to an old carny like her. They certainly didn't have any of these effects, despite her attempting to help them with some pacts.

As she considers what they must have done for all this to work, she is suddenly interrupted by Val. "...oh, tempting but I'm still recovering from flight here." She says with a smile. "I'm afraid I'm going to have a heart attack just watching anyway."

[Recaiden]

Two Hours After

The forest of giants is in disarray. But the disturbance is only now reaching the house of the Drideer Princess.
These events would only have come to pass on a night where scrying the future revealed very high confidence that Sarina would be in the woods, sound asleep, and without the company of her meddling gorgon.
When she's woken, by the vibrations in the web (physical or temporal) or the pounding on her door, Sarina will be able to tell that the fabric of local time is loose, undecided. Paradoxes creep closer to realization, Distorts look for a way in. She might be able to tell that Roth is on her porch, having dropped down from above on a line of silk.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

Sarina scrabbles awake and flops onto the floorboards, quickly skittering over to her dresser to fix her photos all showing odd alternate dimension versions of herself. After taking a moment to fix them she opens the door sleepily to Roth.
”Roth? What’s going on?” she asks, still in her nightgown.

[Recaiden]

"Hello Princess. Thank you for seeing me. Cute gown, cute gown; they always bunch up on my abdomen too much, guess I can't get the right sizes, of course you are rather rounder than I-"
Roth is holding her hat on/covering her ears (it's cold out!). There's a cable of silk leading over from a balloon moored to Konya's tree right over there.
"Oh, right. I'm here because. um....right, right, the Queen is dead and CLO is trying to hurry to take her place. Now, um, if you don't already know that, she's, you know, probably not planning on keeping you around since she can't count on your support. As far as she see it, that is. It's actually really lucky timing that I found out. You see, I needed particular threads for this new envelope idea, sourced from headquarters, but one of mine happened to be frayed already, which, when I lit the burner, eventually led to a pressure shock internal to the membrane-"
If not interrupted, Roth will happily talk about balloon construction for the next ten minutes.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

Sarina whaps a hand across the side of Roth’s head gently, but firmly, in probably the only display of royal callous behavior expected of a spider she’s ever displayed.
”Roth, I believe you just told me that my adopted sister wants me assassinated. Stay on topic, please.”

[Recaiden]

Roth shakes out the hand of hers on the side of her head that was struck.
"Yes Princess."
"The Queen's passing was final, in a time-sense, but CLO's taking power isn't, yet. You might be able to interfere with her plans, given your, um, abilities. Maybe you could even be queen yourself!"
"Otherwise I'd suggest you get out of the Wode, somewhere safe, and that I was never here. Become royalty-in-exile, how exciting! Um, I don't mean that never here thing figuratively, Sarina. Don't just not tell anyone about it, actually erase this from the timeline except your memories. Wouldn't want to get caught in a...loop."

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

”Right. When did the Queen die exactly? Maybe it surprised the other as much as it was hidden from me.” Sarina asks. And she is surprised, only at the same time not as much as she would have thought. The Queen had been giving some subtle hints, assembling Princesses. And maybe all the time-webs are starting to give her some prescience at last.

[Recaiden]

On the other hand, everything is unsurprising given enough hindsight.
"Umm, one hundred thirty-two minutes ago. In her tea parlor. You know, she was very old, I don't know if CLO even had to murder her." Roth muses.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

Sarina raises an eyebrow.
”Ok, and if I was there say, two hundred minutes ago, was there anyone who might keep me from her presence?” she asks.

[Recaiden]

Roth throws up her hands.
"You'd know that better than me! I wasn't there, and who can tell you where to go? CLO would want to keep you away, but she must have been going to have had some trouble with that. Uh, I think?"
She can dispense a few facts about it, but she really doesn't get the time business.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

”Thanks.” says Sarina, except she never does, because five hours ago she stopped what she was doing, put on a nice gray jacket with a skirt that honestly didn’t look the best with her giant spider lower half but was formal enough, and skittered off to see the Queen unannounced.

[Recaiden]

Three hours before

Given the extra-fast walking that Sarina is heir to as a princess of the realm, it only takes twenty minutes of brisk travel to reach Headquarters, that web under the woods.
It's still night; the trees are sleeping, most spiders have yet to begin spinning the morning's webs. Roth has just discovered the flaw in her envelope.
The Queen's parlor can be reached only by her invitation, and yet there is a guard posted outside the intersection that leads to it, one of Rose's species. "Not to be disturbed." he hisses.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

Sarina crosses her arms and smirks at the guard.
”Are you giving me orders, Soldier? On whose authority? Because I’m fairly sure Her Highness doesn’t post guards. Since she can throw interlopers into another timeline and such.“ she tells him, making sure her little diadem is properly displayed.

[Recaiden]

-2 hours, 39 minutes

The guard is not sure what to make of this.
"Yes, Queen is stronger than us. But she not spend all her time throwing interlopers around."
"Not 'order'. Only, Princess Seelo said for-" Surely Sarina already knows what he's talking about, and this is just a reminder.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Wode]

"My sister can keep the rabble out, but she will need much more than that for royalty. I will be going, and if Her Highness doesn't want me I shan't see her." Sarina insists and attempts to skitter around the soldier. If he lets her pass she'll send a twinge down the web of time to the Queen's parlor, in the most subtle manner of knocking before the room of a trans-temporal entity.

[Murkus]

[The Fabulous Croupelt's Falling Circus]

"Ah! Here we are," the lights come to a stop, warm and blinding, directly upon Astrana and Valente. "Would one of my brave and lovely assistants please join me on stage...?"

One of the beak-masked acrobats, still swinging about with idle grace on red ropes and tangled ribbons moored somewhere up in the dark, sways out toward Astrana and Valente. Something up above seems to move the rope with her, and she flips herself upside down, wrapping her legs and thighs around the rope and extending a hand to Astrana and Valente. She is smiling, pale and lovely, beneath the frame of her mask. "Trust me," she murmurs. "And grab on tight."

Thankfully she ceases swinging for the most part - she simply hangs from the newly repositioned rope, slim and lithe, dressed in tattered frilly finery.