IC Inbox (ryslig)

[improvking]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, GODKING. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 013.00.020.01 *** GODKING has joined 013.00.020.01 <GODKING> for questions about Choose the Fog, contact < Fritvælge > <GODKING> for complaints about Choose the Fog, contact < TRUTH1223 > <GODKING> otherwise have at it.

- GODKING : main handle
- Necrophades : "serious" handle
- understanding : anon/alias (polite persona)
- Fritvælge : for sub-cult business

Comments

[alchepistol]

I've pursued a version of that investigation.

[ I want to say "this is the most Saint-Germain's ever talked shop at a wake", but any other wakes she's attended had a high probability of being for, and attended by, alchemists. In which case metacosmological theory-shopping was TOTALLY THE NORM. ]

Steven Grant purchased a compass that detects Day and Night energy. We used it in the wastelands, when investigating the wild monsters. I hypothesized their remnants might have clustered in their signature animals, the black moose and the white bear.

[ She frowns. ] We tracked one down...but there was no response.

[ His point about the time travel having potentially influenced said Day and Night presence anywhere, though....that's compelling. She'll let him digest her experiment while she muses on his own thoughts. ]

[improvking]

Really? That is strange.

[ He finishes his tea as he ponders this revelation, brows knit. ]

You know, the fog out there... it's not connected to the Fog god now either. I wonder if whatever severed it from her did something similar with the animals of the other two... or maybe all the powers just intermingled horribly and tainted each other...

[ He grimaces, then shakes his head a little to clear it. This is getting to be almost as troubling as Atem's loss is depressing, which makes it a poor distraction.

He sets his empty cup down, and picks up the bottle of wine, eyeing it contemplatively.

Behind him, Kul Elna's possessed cup begins to slowly make loops around the table as they wail softly. ]

[alchepistol]

[ She nods. There's myriad explanations, but only one conclusion to be drawn from all of them: ]

Something definitely conspires to limit our movements.

[ The whole planet, swathed as it had been in fog....The moon, intercepting vertical exploration with the tragic results Richard had witnessed firsthand.

...She looks over at Kul Elna when they start making noise again. ]

Apologies. I excluded you from conversation.

[ Or was the wailing their contribution...? Saint-Germain, being the sort of person who thinks always of tomorrow, never of yesterday, does not speak VENGEANCE!!. ]

[improvking]

[ Kul Elna wails again, and the Ring-Spirit glances back at their possessed cup as it continues to bob aloft. ]

Mm, they seem to feel included enough - it's hard to have much of a conversation, as such, with them. No words, extremely limited body language and facial clues - even when they're not being a teacup.

[ Kul Elna seems to take this as a cue, gently placing their cup down on the table before leaving it to more freely float around the room. Indeed, their "face" is essentially just a ghostly skull, and their body primarily a long trailing wisp without any defining features: neither exactly readable. They give a couple shrieks after having circled the room, as if adding some manner of commentary. ]

they have an icon. bless

[alchepistol]

[ Saint-Germain watches Kul Elna's circuit of the room. Thinks about what she knows of their summoning, the sorts of translations and inscriptions she'd aided with. Questions he'd asked, long ago. ]

But you're glad they're here.

[ THAT is not a question. Richard was once an evil god, she understands - or at least partially. Yet this conglomerate of souls, the people it encompasses, were important to him. Summoning them here was not entirely an act of selfish loneliness, but an attempt at rescuing them from a fate worse than death after death. Was it not?

If so, these people make Richard human. ]

and this is super late, oops,,

[improvking]

They're my family.

[ There's more he could say, about how they're also his responsibility and how he owes them; but he settles for declaring them family and watching them with a fond eye. They circle him, shrieking, and he cackles - sounding a bit unhinged but nonetheless happy. ]

This place has regenerative properties. They're not in pain, here; the ragged edges of their souls softened somehow. I thought they could never be this whole again...

[ He holds up a hand to them, and they nyoom through it a few times before returning to their circling the room. He continues to hold his hand up for a bit after, examining it. ]

...Not long after I arrived here, both my hands were turned into just this mess of scar tissue; then... [ he shudders involuntarily, reminded of something ] ...ah, s-something happened - anyway, point is, they later healed back to just the scar I'd arrived with.

[ Indeed, they currently boast a single scar, a starburst through one hand - the one that Saint-Germain might remember having seen run through by a pocket knife during the stages-event. He muses, half to himself: ] ...Probably something to do with its importance to the body...

[alchepistol]

[ In other words, there are two entities on Ryslig for which he cares desperately. This soul conglomeration, wounded but made more whole, and..... ]

Ryou Bakura's, you mean.

[ She Knows. ]

[improvking]

[ He scoffs briefly, thinking she's referring to the 'family' comment - no, Ryou had taken far better care of his family... Then he catches on to what she's actually referring to. ]

Oh, the body? Mn.

[ It's never been a secret that he's in a copy of his host's body - he was admitting to it long before Ryou had even followed him to Ryslig. ]

Never had one of my own... my mortal-self's original doesn't count, that's canceled out by my divine-self's having no form at all.

[ And of course as the fusion of the two, he's only ever had the Ring and Ryou - he snorts, dryly amused.

He's not entirely sure if she's trying to get at something here... oh. The. right, the hand-scar,,
of course, tch.

His expression shifts again, guiltily, and he decides to go ahead and try some of the wine, why not - he could use it right now. So he uncorks the bottle and himself a glass... into his emptied tea cup like an utter barbarian. ]

[alchepistol]

[ The arachne in Saint-Germain - indeed, the courtier who infiltrated the French royal courts in the days of Louis XV - twitches inwardly at the gesture. The rest of Saint-Germain reminds herself that this is the sort of table manners one can expect from an evil chaos god, and lets the matter be.

....Odd, to be sharing a drink with an evil chaos god, she, the defender of humanity's right to not be oppressed by beings from above. But she believes that Richard has no intentions of crushing Ryslig beneath his immaterial thumb. After all - everything he cares for is here.

He is half god and half mortal, and learning to walk that distinction. And yet, in that position.....someone whose powers used to be of the scope needed to defeat the suffering mechanism.... ]

If you had the opportunity to regain your original form, would you take it? If so, how would you use it here?

[improvking]

[ Hm. Mixing wine with the remnants of tea and milk results in... an interesting flavor. He's genuinely unsure what he thinks of it.

Speaking of being unsure, he can't figure out what exactly Saint-Germain is asking. ]

Which "form"? You mean the Ring? Well, I mean I guess I'd be shit out of luck if I reverted to that, unless Ryou could be persuaded to wear me again... [ He only has to consider that briefly before he's continuing in a thoughtful way: ] ...Of course he was usually amenable, even before we worked things out for real. And I think he misses me sometimes too...

[ He gestures vaguely. ]

Meh, as long as there was some way I could still talk to people.

Why?

[ There is a significant disconnect in his mind between his former divine powers and the entire concept of a "form". Saint-Germain may need to explain further. ]