As an aria signals the beginning of the end | @emet_sulk

[penumbrals]

[ If someone had told her of her fate when she was born, this spoiled child of Eulmore's free, she would have laughed in their face. To think not only that there was a world outside of her own, but that she would one day live to see the end of it, that she would travel to another as an agent of that world's demise—

There would have been nothing anyone could say that could have convinced her to believe it.

And yet, here she is now, perched on the edge of a wide desk in a building more technologically advanced than anything she's seen in this life - although, according to the man seated at the extravagant chair behind said desk, this place has nothing on the wonders she has seen in lives past. This world is not the one in which she was born - that world has, in fact, been destroyed, Rejoined with its source, the original world from which she, like her new companion, hails.

In Eulmore, she had a name, but that name no longer matters. Her name is Gaia, and back when the world was torn apart, she was known as Loghrif of the Convocation of Fourteen. Her role now is to aid Emet-Selch in the Rejoining of the Shards to the Source, in the rebirth of their dark lord Zodiark, so that He might make Etheirys whole once more.

Exactly how this is to happen she is uncertain, other than that she possesses powers aligned with the darkness that are to assist... even if she does not yet remember how to use them.

It is, then, for this reason that she sits at this desk, one leg crossed over the other, her foot tapping in the air as she looks back at the man who started her journey anew down this road.

Her voice, when she speaks, is as arch as always. ]

I am sure that you are piecing together the thousands of parts that make up the entirety of this plan, Emet-Selch, but I feel the need to remind you that my memory, this reincarnation, is not serving me as well as it might have previously.

[ Her memory has never been good, not even before she was sundered, but that's neither here nor there. ]

If I am to help with this plan of yours, then I will need to be trained in the use of the powers we wield.

Comments

[emet_sulk]

[ As per his usual modus operandi, Emet-Selch occupies the body of the illustrious head of this futuristic company. Contrary to what some may believe, there is a period of adjustment where one has to assimilate the host whilst maintaining a sense of self. After a few cautious days, Emet-Selch finally believes he's ready to start taking a more personal hand in the company's direction.

Ah, but he cannot forget his companion. Loghrif, freshly whisked away from her original world - original shard - and now his designated partner in this one's demise. ]

Yes... Yes, we must attend to that, musn't we? [ His voice is different too. Youthful. Clear. But then, so had Solus' until he grew old and withered. ] A pity I have yet to locate Mitron's fragment upon this shard. You two always seemed to somehow bring out the best in one another.

[ He stands smoothly, checking over the screens one last time before he closes them. ]

But where shall we conduct your lessons? [ he muses. ] In this cramped, overpopulated city, there are very few places where we shall be alone.

[penumbrals]

[ It's a fair enough question. It seems that since the moment the two of them have taken up lives in this world - Emet-Selch as the head of an important company, Gaia for now as one of the team that works directly under him - they have barely had a moment to themselves. Which, if her memories had settled the way they should have, might have been okay. But as it stands, the situation is a little trickier.

Sitting though she may be, her arms fold across her chest, and she frowns. ]

Even here, we must deal with the concerned watch your bodyguards have on your personage.

What of your host's home?

[ She is aware that her own host owns a place as well, but Gaia has not yet visited it. Her struggles with assimilation have been - unsurprisingly - significantly more than his, and she has concerns that surrounding herself with something so familiar to her host may cause further problems. ]

And perhaps, in time, we will find Mitron.

[emet_sulk]

Ah. An excellent suggestion. I am given to believe that this man is quite wealthy so he must have a private estate.

[ He casts a lingering look out the wall-to-floor window behind him and its magnificent view of the ugly metropolis below. He hasn't visited his vessel's domicile yet either but he knows its address. The man does not have a family.

Or rather, no family that he is aware of at the moment. ]

But we mustn't set tongues wagging. Leave ahead of me. I shall follow anon. I trust you can think of a suitable excuse for being called here if asked?

[penumbrals]

[ Gaia all but rolls her eyes in response to the question. For as many thousands of years old that she may be, in the life she had before she took this vessel, she was only a teenager, and learned habits are not so easily broken. She manages as well as she can amongst her new coworkers, but behind closed doors is another story, and unfortunately for him, Emet-Selch is left bearing the brunt of it. ]

Of course. [ The answer is stated in a drawl. ] A mistake just troubling enough that I must answer to the boss himself, but not enough that anyone need worry about it.

[ Despite her attitude, she pushes herself off the desk, standing up and smoothing her clothes before she glances back at him. ]

I should be able to make my own way to your new estate once you have located it.

[ With that, she leaves— being sure on the way to school her face into an expression of irritation. ]

[emet_sulk]

[ If there is one thing she can do well, he thinks as he watches her leave, it is play the part of an exasperated worker. Is that a peculiarity from her prior mortal life? It's growing difficult to recall how the original Loghrif would have acted in such a situation.

Sighing quietly to himself, he leans forward and inspects the wide terminal before him. There are a few projects that are awaiting 'his' signature. He could simply sign them blindly...but the best plans leave as little as possible to chance.

An hour later, he departs the building. He makes sure to pass other people as he does so, that word may reach Loghrif wherever she is. Back straight, eyes forward, and a wordless nod to those who acknowledge him. It seems to work. Funny how business leaders share so many common traits no matter the world, time, or place.

This vessel's home is somewhere on the upper tier. It's a large estate by this city's standards, space being a luxury only the rich can now afford. He doesn't even have to step inside to know that it will be suitable for conducting more clandestine meetings between himself and his brethren. No-one would dare intrude into the home of such an influential figure.

And those who would, well... They go in knowing the risks.

All that's left is to wait for Loghrif to arrive. He spends some time familiarising himself with the home while he waits. ]

[penumbrals]

[ There are questions, of course, but the withering look she gives them is enough to shut them down with no follow-ups. Thousands of years old she may be, but the scorn of a teenager is apparently far more intimidating than anything she has learned before now.

When he leaves for the day, though, the jokes still follow her, new coworkers pointing out that she must be relieved. It's all she can do not to roll her eyes and huff at them — that, however, would be too much like her 16-year-old self for this vessel's form to quite pull it off.

(She also struggles with lipstick in Gaia's preferred shade. Once she learns how to shape her...)

That's something to think about later, though. She's sure that the esteemed Architect of the Convocation will have more important things for her to learn than that, in spite of her personal displeasure. So for now, she keeps to her duties for just long enough that it doesn't seem suspicious when she leaves for the day, slightly earlier than she probably should and citing a headache as her reasoning.

Then, she heads for the address sent her way by Emet-Selch.

The gate, like so many of the other doors and entryways in this white-damned city, has one of those technological things on it. An... intercom, she thinks it's called, although her memory is struggling to find the word at the moment. With an irritated sigh, she thumbs the button. ]

It is me.

[emet_sulk]

[ Having seen an incredible breadth of technological development and ingenuity, it is an easy matter for him to work out (mostly) the various functions around his vessel's estate. A loud buzz sounds and he replies through the speaker. ]

Enter.

[ The gate slides open on its own and will close after her. The front yard (or what passes for one here) is immaculate stone and steel after the manner of the rest of the city. Emet-Selch greets her at the front door. ]

Come in, come in. You were not followed, yes?

[penumbrals]

[ She knows his voice will come through once she presses the button on the device, but something about it still makes her jump, startle a little despite herself as the gate slides open. Unlike him, after all, she's unused to technology— her memory doesn't serve her well enough beyond what little they had in Eulmore, and even that is shaky at best. It's going to take her some time to get used to— which, given she's working for a company in the technological sector, really needs to happen sooner rather than later.

The more she can learn from Emet-Selch, the better.

She nods in greeting, a smile not really her speed, and then shakes her head in response to his question. ]

Right. Not followed.

[ If being a memory-lapsed teen in Eulmore has taught her anything, it's how to fly under the radar— and in this city, full of so many more, it's easier than it might be otherwise. ]

[emet_sulk]

[ As a precaution, he surveys their immediate surrounds with his soul sight before shutting the door after her. Not that he distrusts her, but mortals have a way of being surprisingly resourceful. Sometimes beyond even the Ascians' estimation.

He leads the way to a spacious indoor area which he has already cleared in anticipation of her arrival. It's difficult to say what function it may have previously served. ]

What abilities have you unearthed thus far? What do your memories speak of? We shall start with those and see what else may surface.

[penumbrals]

[ Once they make it to the area he has cleared for this, Gaia leans against the nearest wall, her arms folding across her chest.

His question is a perfectly fair one, and yet— At this stage, both her experience and her memories are very limited. She remembers that, as the Light on the First waned in power, the faerie's voice— Artemis's voice— in her mind grew stronger for a time, awakening her little by little until the completion of Emet-Selch's plan drowned him out completely, and the Flood swallowed him.

(Luckily, the other Ancient found her before the last remnants of the echoed world were taken in by the original.)

But Artemis's voice, while strong enough to reach her, was never strong enough to teach, to bring the truth of her memories to her, and so most of what she's experienced since has been either guided by Emet-Selch, or uncovered almost by instinct.

Her lips purse; her foot taps. ]

Let me see... I have been able to manipulate Dark energy and summon Voidsent. With your assistance, I was able to teleport through the rift between this world and the First. I... [ And here she pauses, her head tilting as her brows crease in confusion. ] I... seem to have a memory of being able to manipulate time in some way...

APOLOGIES

[emet_sulk]

[ He nods, clasping his hands behind his back. Even though none are around to watch them, some unconscious part of him holds fast to the act. ]

First, a reminder: no-one can truly, freely manipulate time. At least, not in the sense of traversing back and forth along its stream. The primal Alexander briefly managed it, but at great cost. What we can do is...stretch it out a bit. Delay an attack, and so forth. That much is within the scope of our power.

[ As he speaks he starts to slowly pace back and forth, like a professor giving a lecture. ]

Were Nabriales here, I would ask them to demonstrate. But alas, I've yet to find the time to locate the next shard of their soul. Let's begin with something a little easier...

[ Halting, he stretches out a hand and a dark ball of energy begins to coalesce above his palm. ]

As servants to Lord Zodiark, we are blessed with a greater affinity for darkness. 'Chaos', as some would call it. Yet what is chaos but great upheaval? 'Tis only destructive if you allow it to run unchecked. As you saw of the First, without darkness, a world would languish into obscurity.