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Post by Flare on Mar 7, 2020 23:48:21 GMT -6
‘I’M FLATTERED.’ came the first booming voice to his aching mind. The ssashirk opened his eyes, finding himelf on the gray fog of the soul-plane once again. But he still wore the guise of a ssashirk, and the bone thing was there, regarding him with something akin to interest. ‘NO HUMAN HAS CALLED ME OUT PERSONALLY FOR THEIR IRONIES BEFORE.’ They should have. He tells the creature, an anger boiling inside his stomach. An acidic anger roiling inside. I never decided on what I would sacrifice when you sent me back. ‘AND YOU ARE HERE AGAIN. I THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN CONTENT, AND LIVED OUT A MORTAL LIFESPAN.’ AS ME, IF POSSIBLE, NOT…. NOT THIS! The ssashirk roared back at him, the shadowed box of unheard emotional turmoils and such bursting open violently. Anger, fear, sadness, rage, sorrow, guilt… a lot of guilt… it all came forth and gnawed at his portionally sane mind. 20.20 lv 61 flare
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Post by Flare on Mar 7, 2020 23:53:19 GMT -6
From the bone keeper’s perspective, he didn’t specifically see physical appearances in the soul plane. He had ferried this soul back to the mortal plane. This soul, so clearly distressed should have been left alone until they were brought here by normal means. But he clearly could see the stitches of magic, of glitchy chaotic themed magic holding this soul to the body of another. If it had flesh, the rippling snarl of shown teeth would look much more terrifying. Appearing as a messenger of the dead was this ones job. Of ferrying souls either up, down, or just letting them dissolve in limbo. This soul though, this very confused and less than sane soul, had much baggage to unload, before the bone keeper could release it to either plane. Up or down. There wasn't much the messenger could do without getting answers. Potentially calming this soul into opening up about exactly what caused the lack of sanity. 4.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 7, 2020 23:54:03 GMT -6
The soul plane warps… looking more like a Tumai’an healers hut. Or something you might see in the botanical branch of the Core. Except everything is made out of fog. Very shaped fog. There was some sort of magic at work as the ssashirk found himself guided to a long cot designed to let patients lie upon. As the bone keeper sweeps into the room itself, the guise of its own figure distorts, molding the milky white fog with glowing eyes into a more humanoid shape. ‘IT IS CLEAR that we have some discussing to do.” the booming voice becomes softer, quieter, practically normal sounding. Heck, if he was more sane, it sounded even familiar. Wrapped in a guise of shadowy silver threaded robes, the bone keeper’s shape looks almost human, except for the eyes glow. Distinctly pale, like a Genevian, but gaunt and a bit drawn. The bone horns sprout from silvery strands of thick hair, but the head and neck are hugged by a hood. The hands and feet are not seen. Perhaps there’s even a tail hidden in those fog made robes. 8.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 0:06:12 GMT -6
"Please, sit. Time does not flow in my plane of existence; we do have all the time in the world..." Flare couldn't help but think the reaperesque creature was having a go at him, of what he had just done. Calling Shurai out in public, at least before the robed folk at the top of the temple. He didn't remember much after that. He has to move his tail out of the way, and sits in the fog. It surprises him that the fog can hold his weight. It does not feel like anything to him though, just fog. And fog has no feel, like catching hold of a cloud. If anything, running his fingers through the fog leaves them slightly damp. "What drew you initially to call out for me. To me. Surely its not just an idle chat." Another roil of acidic anger coursed through the ssashirk. His fists ball in his lap. 12.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 0:19:50 GMT -6
{I was not born this way. I am not a ssashirk. I do not WANT to be a ssashirk. I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS.} he gestures to himself, to his draconian form. The robed figure nods. "This was not the price I took from you to send your soul back to the mortal plane." they respond, folding the sleeves together, never showing hands. Perhaps just as clawed and bony as the regular form, the ssashirk thinks. "From what I can see, this is the work of another divine. Or fallen divine. I have no hold on your soul's fate any longer. Or what remains of it." {What do you mean, what remains of it.} the ssashirk wonders openly. {I did not spill my blood for riddles or vague answers.} "I will not waste your 'very important time' with my idle words to draw you slowly to a conclusion then." they reply, suddenly stern. 16.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 0:25:31 GMT -6
"Without a living body, a soul will decompose and break down. It will disappear. And with your frankly STUPID thought of speaking to the gods through blood sacrifice, you will most certainly disappear." Flare only blinked in confusion. He was alive... right? "The speakers do not help those who spill their life upon the altar for power, or to desperately speak to a god. Humans have DIED on that altar, because they were stupid and forgot a single step. Usually it is forgetting that berry or sort to perserve the body." they point at him. "You are a different case. Or did you not notice your inability to heal." ...uh oh. He did not initially think of that. Two and two were slowly starting to come together. "The inability to heal, the inability to CLOT. Your stupid decision of seeking council with the gods by blood sacrifice-" they didn't finish the sentence, hidden fists balled. 20.20 lv 62 flare
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 19:40:40 GMT -6
{I ate the berry though. I remember eating it.} the ssashirk points out, but the messenger must not be hearing. They are starting to pace. Pacing isn't usually a good thing. "That is not a problem. I looked through your eyes briefly at your moment of passage. You performed the ceremony correctly." the messenger responds, their tone sounds a bit strained, like attempting to keep their temper under control. "It is that your soul is already... fragmented. For the most part, humans in this city for some reason will only fragment their souls once. However, you." Something green glows from within the messenger's sleeves and they draw out an orb, not much bigger then a grapefruit, swirling with green energy. His senses, Flare's senses, point right at the orb, going 'thats magic'. "You made this, despite the curse that you have been inflicted with." The messenger looks right at him; not right 'at' him, but at the tooth necklace around his neck. 4.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 21:23:17 GMT -6
{Curse?} He'd heard the word before. Usually as a derogatory word toward another, like 'a curse upon you'. The messenger starts to speak again, pacing before the ssashirk. "Dark, chaotic magic. Something must've seen your thoughts of anger towards the dragonfolk kin as I took your price and sent you back, and used it to chain your soul to the body of a dead dragonfolk, who... if I do see the two strands right, died the same day as you were cut down yourself. As the dragonfolk's soul joined their Mother of all Dragons, and yours joined the mortal plane, you were chained to the wrong body." They look back at him with glowing eyes, more lavender then blue now. "Usually, souls left in the wrong body will break apart on their own... rejected by the flesh that lives again. But-" it points at him with skeletal fingers that tip with sharp black nails 8.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 21:37:04 GMT -6
"Have you heard of the legend of your origin, of the origin of your tribe?" they ask. {I am not familiar with that particular legend...} the ssashirk confessed his anger and fear momentarily forgotten. Now a bit curious. "Long long ago, in the dawn of time, a dragon and a Tumai fell in love. She (the dragon) laid a clutch of eggs, and from that clutch came three people. The first type is the dragon (named after their mother, who they resemble). The second type is Tumai (named after their father whom they resemble), and the third type resembled neither and both at the same time. This third type is called Ssashirk. The father and mother ascended to the sky to watch over their children and their children's children for all eternity - to guide them as the Sun (the father) and the Moon (the mother). Every egg they've laid since has guided them as the Stars. At least, so is the belief of the Ssashirk people... They believe that when a Ssashirk or Tumai die, their soul rises to the sky to join their siblings, and help guide their people." they wait for his reaction, but Flare has no reaction. So this was the legend of what kept Tumai and ssashirk so close; they used to be siblings, born of the same parentage at the dawn of time.
~legend of Tumai and dragon from pethia.boards.net 12.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 21:50:16 GMT -6
"The mother is considered to be the mother of people. The mother of dragons who ssashirk worship. From this extremely minute amount of dragonfolk blood in every tumai's veins, you didn't die upon being thrust into the body of a ssashirk. Consider yourself blessed by your ancestry." Flare's mangled wings flatten as his shoulders flatten out. Far from making him feel lucky or blessed, his large gray eyes narrow in anger again. The swollen acidic feeling inside burns his innards. {What...mate that the ancestry I come from does not matter. You tell me that I am cursed by something that isn't you. If you didn't cause...} he gestures at his look {this, then who or what did.} The messenger appears to swell briefly, then exhale a sound of frustration. This thing doesn't appear to be breathing. "This looks to be the work of a being of chaos. Likely something that can twist reality." 16.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 22:07:37 GMT -6
{I have a fleeting idea. A creature of chaos, an elemental it called itself, has been dogging me recently.} The messenger sees through the ssashirk's eyes briefly to see the snakelike creature, masquerading and being a literal pain in the tail. They spit angrily. "Loki." they sneer, looking more then displeased. "A fallen chaos being, banished from heaven, barred from hell. It travels the world, causing mischief and mayhem. Calls it harmless mischief, but has no line between harmless and harmful. However, it has not been the one to inflict this on you. Like a child who is unable to stop causing mischief, its more of a compulsion then being fun." Flare hisses through his teeth. {Then...} he sighs... {what am I to do.} His eyes linger on the green orb in the messenger's clawed hands. {I want to live. But if I can, I want to be myself...} he wanted to be himself again. 20.20 lv 63 flare
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 22:20:02 GMT -6
The messenger watches him. They can sense the confusion, the fear, the anger, the frustration... and the resignation. They watch the orb briefly as it seems to pulse as the drake drops his head briefly. The crystals had fused into the rock, drawing in the amount of blood the ssashirk spilt to get answers. {What do I need to do to go back... as myself.} the ssashirk asked them. {I want... to leave this place, go back to my garden...} "Leaving this plane is not free. As the first time, there is a price." the messenger responded. They lift the orb so Flare can see it without having to duck or lift his head.
"This is your way out. This is a powerful magical artifact, known as an elemental node. Humans or other folk can 'tap' these for magical power... or they can swallow it." The orb pulses. The ssashirk shivers briefly, although there is no cold or heat. He felt the pulse, deep inside himself. 4.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 22:41:14 GMT -6
"There is a chance, though unknown, that swallowing the magical node will purge the curse from your body and restore you to life." There was hope, a small flicker, in the ssashirk's eyes. "But-" they point at them. "Magic is erratic. Unpredictable. Unforgiving. This is considered the purest form of those magical elemental shards that foolish and yet lucky humanfolk pull from the earth, guided by their instinct or living stone beings. Those who swallow nodes undergo... changes. Unknown changes. I don't know what happens. Nobody knows, really. Especially for you. It may grant you something more then power of the element that was put into this node. It may...take something. A one way choice. Either you swallow the node, or you don't." Bum-bump. He felt the energy before him; similar... he had felt this energy before... from where... He had to think about that... oh. That massive old tree in the grove during the harvest season. Where he retrieved that crystal... 8.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 22:59:53 GMT -6
"Be warned mortal. This is not an easy choice to make. Swallowing a node means you cannot use any other magical nodes. Magical items-" {I'll do it.} the drake interrupted them. {I want to be myself. I don't care the price anymore. Or if I can or can't use more of these blood stones. I want to... to...} Something twists painfully inside him, as he says his words. Swallowing on nothing, the drake finally finished his sentence, shakily. {I want to know the truth.} The messenger angles their head in curiosity. Now this was something they hadn't noticed. "The truth? Of what" {I have doubts... of whether my friend... the one I broke out of prison, the one I died to protect... did he commit that crime?} The drake is shaking again, his fists balled in his lap. {If...if he did commit that crime... then I... I protected a criminal.} "Your friend..." The messenger peers into the ssashirk's mind once again, visualizing a dark skinned male with straw colored hair and a lean athletic look. Serious but gullible, and very strong. "Ah. You have harbored doubts of whether your friend truly committed the crime. You seek answers." 12.20
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Post by Flare on Mar 8, 2020 23:20:47 GMT -6
{He never answered... when I asked if he actually committed the crime. As we were parting.} the drake muttered, looking down at his reptile feet. {My gut says he was framed. That someone else committed the crime and made him take the fall. But... my heart isn't so sure...} Feelings of guilt wrack him... and opaque red tears brim at his eyes. {I'm such a terrible friend for thinking this...} "There are trials in friendships, no matter what race. Eventually you and your friend would be reaching a bridge like this." the messenger mentioned. "Make that your goal; to locate your friend and ask him to sincerely answer. Did he commit that crime. Nobody knows but them. Now, take your power, and return. The price... is your-" he didn't hear it. For the drake seemed less able to hear him. He sat there, trembling. Clutching his hair over his ears in fear. It was the price that left him as an undead thing last time... he didn't want to hear it... he didn't! 16.20
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