< Lost In The Garden With Snuffles | Ex Pulplogs | Back To Reality >
ST It was a golden statuette of his former incarnation that he'd rescued from the Gallery before the white sphere guardians chased them away. The other statues he'd taken were all silver and the gold one had caught his attention. It showed the former-Corve standing proudly, bare-chested with a bow draw to his ear. He'd been studying it.
ST Looking at the face that used to be his, peering at the weapon and trying to rouse some sense of familiarity. He hadn't seen anything like the massive Powerbow depicted in the sculpture anywhere in the Gallery, but such an important Artifact would probably have been somewhere more secure, more important.
ST He had hardly noticed that when he closed his eyes to think, he'd drifted away. With Carmine standing guard against the Spheres, Myrrh and Xar headed off to explore, Corve had taken the chance to examine some of their findings and take a short nap. But his nap had turned into something else and now he was standing on a balcony, peering out at a city.
ST The sun was setting, turning the sky into orange-pink-purple fire that shone brilliantly off the polished glass of the city's streets and buildings. Everything he saw was some form of glass. The brilliant vermillion of the streets, the shining opaque greens and blues of building walls, silvered reflections in mirrored doors and decorations. Transparent windows stained any color the owner wished.
ST It wasn't hard to guess that Corve was looking down at Chiaroscuro in its heyday from one of the impossibly tall glass towers. But he couldn't understand why he was here. Or even where here was in any specific sense.
Corve grips the balcony railing tightly, his fingers turning white against the stained glass as he looks down unto a city that banished him- but that was now below him, with him standing above it as a king or a guardian might. His eyes shift as he takes it all in, turning to look at his own clothes.
ST Corve turns and finds the wall behind him is mirrored, reflecting an image of a man well over seven feet tall, built like a plow ox. The shaven head, dark blue eyes, strong jaw and scar across the broad chest are all familiar but certainly not Corve. As far as clothing goes, he's wearing the masculine equivalent of Carmine's fashion in leather and heavy golden silks. Bands of heavy gold circle his massive arms and wrists.
Corve raises a brow- and the reflection does the same... which set him off. "Oh... crap," he murmurs, wiggling his fingers and running a hand over his bald head, scratching behind his ears, and then flexing his muscles a bit- because, well, he's never had muscles that big, and flexing them feels... natural. "What the fuck..."
ST The man in the mirror does everything that Corve does, even the smallest detail. It's rather unlikely that the mirror is lying, especially since Corve can look down and see the body, the big hands and he can feel the baldness of his head.
Corve shakes his head and leans back against the railing of the balcony, scratching his chin a little and contemplating the fact that he seems to now be in the body that his shard possessed during the First Age. "This is not good," he murmurs outloud, looking side to side and then standing straight. Well, might as well look around and try to find a way out of this predicament.
ST The voice Corve is borrowing is a deep bass that rumbles with power. At his speaking, a young-looking woman dressed in a light wrap of white silk steps into the room behind him, smiling warmly at him. Her blond hair tumbles down over her shoulders and falls around her hips. "What is not good, Sixth? Did you see something in the city?"
Corve blinks. Oh... fucking... crap. He doesn't say anything for the longest moment, and then, with as much conviction as possible, he says: "I'm just feeling out of sorts." Feeling out of sorts? What kind of lame excuse... he smiles at her.
Woman laughs lightly and moves to stand beside Corve on the balcony. She rests her head against his arm, the top of her skull rising only just above his elbow. "It is a wonderful city. The people will soon forget their home in Daskim."
Corve leans against the balcony. Daskim... -Daskim!- "... they might," he says. "... but should they?" He's probing her. Maybe she's a talker, and will simply repeat whatever it is they should -both- know.
Woman "Of course they should," she gives Corve a light slap on the arm. "They can't ever go back, can they? Not since we had to sink it under the sands to stop the Serpent's minions from escaping.
Corve swallows a little. 'We?' Fate sure is a bitch. "But is forgetting it -wise?-" A little more probing. "Sometimes... sometimes I think surviving and perservering over a tragedy is something to be remembered. Something that will keep them humble... and give them strength at the same time." What the hell is he talking about. And who -is- this woman? Probably his wife... back then. That means his child is somewhere,
Corve * if the statues are to be believed.
Woman laughs lightly. "That doesn't sound like you at all, Sixth. Have you been listening to Blossom too much?"
Corve sighs somewhat, and leans against the balcony. Oh boy. This is going to be harder than he thought. It's strange, though- logically, none of this should be happening. Not -really.- How can he act in the past, when it's happened? "No... I just... my mind's been a bit muddled, is all. I'm having trouble remembering things from the battle..." Might as well make the most of this.
Woman looks seriously at Corve, peering up into his face and reaching one hand up to feel his face. "Are you feeling alright, Sixth? You're acting very oddly...maybe I should go find Blossom..."
Corve turns away from her and tries not to grimace -too- much. "I just can't remember some things. It was... hectic." This is a dangerous game. What happens if he dies here, in this... what? illusion? hallucination? trip through -time?-...
Woman turns away. "I think I will go find Blossom.."
Corve mutters something under his breath in Brumish and takes a few steps away from her. Damn. This is not going well. Wait, why is he even -here?- Maybe this Blossom person will be able to figure something out without having the impulse to gut him where he stands.
Woman leaves the room, looking over her shoulder at Corve with a confused, somewhat concerned expression.
Sixth chuckles at Corve's confusion...from the mirror. The image in the mirror is no longer simply reflecting what Corve does. Instead the man in the mirror is smiling in amusement at Corve who realizes that he suddenly looks like, well, himself again.
Corve looks at himself, raises his eyes at the mirror image that is no longer mirroring him, and narrows his eyes. "This is obviously much more humorous to you than it is to me... Sixth?"
Sixth has taken a seat on the bed, peering at Corve as the smaller, more confused man stands on the balcony. It takes Corve another moment to register that not only has he become himself again, but that Sixth isn't just in the mirror anymore. There really is a man sitting on the bed, shaking his bald head at Corve. "I suppose it is. My name is Sixth Hour Fading. And I don't know yours. But I know you certainly haven't inherited my smo
Sixth nherited my smooth tongue or good looks."
Corve raises a brow a little and shrugs a little. "Well, from what I know, we only share half a soul- the other parts... what we each started as... are quite possibly very different. My name is Corve."
Sixth "I know how it works better then you. I was just startled at the lack of taste my Exaltation has shown." He chuckles again. "You aren't here, you know. And I'm certainly dead, for you to be my successor. How did this meeting come about?"
Corve smirks. "For someone that knows how it works better than me, doesn't that question seem a bit ironic?" He tilts his head a little and wanders towards his past, stopping a foot or so from the giant. "I don't know," he finally answers.
Sixth snorts. "What were you doing?"
Corve shrugs. "Looking at m- you... a statue of you, holding a bow. The only golden statue I found at a gallery in the catacombs of a city recently brought crashing down from the sky by the worshippers of the Serpent you supposedly stopped." He scratches his chin a little. "Creation's in a bad shape," he finally adds, supposing the First Age Exalt would at least like to know how things are faring.
Sixth ponders this, rubbing his head for a moment. "Flying island...you mean Brume? So, Blossom finished it? Is it like he wanted?"
Corve shrugs a little. "I have no idea how he wanted it. But it's certainly finished... and might be -finished,- if my Circle and I don't stop the Cult and its master, like I guess you and yours did. They're threatening to bring more of it down crashing to Creation."
Sixth raises a massive hand in a command for quiet. "Slow down. Since you're here, we've got time to talk. Now, as far as I know, I don't have any golden statues. Sounds like an idea though...you should consider some."
Corve sighs, rolling his eyes a little. Obviously, his previous incarnation was much more vain than he is. "Brume is a plutocratic empire of seven- six now- flying isles, where the most important currency is... well, the currency. Bureaucrats rule it. Is that how Blossom wanted it?"
Sixth "No, of course not. What happened? It was supposed to be a new home for refugees from the hinterlands where the Primordials destroyed the land."
Corve sighs and takes a seat next to the giant. "Time happened. The Usurpation happened. Are you sure you want to know? It's not all that relevant to you..." Then he pauses. "The Dragon-Blooded betray you. They slaughter you during the biggest feast the Solars have ever held, and lock most of your Exaltations in a prison. Centuries later, it cracks. A lot of time has passed, Sixth. Might be millenia, for all I know.
Corve * I'm not much a scholar."
Sixth grunts as if Corve had kicked him in the belly with both feet. He looks hollow for a second, then manages a slight smile. "Well, I suppose I took my share with me. And you've got the duty now, Corve. You'll have to do me proud. Be sure you do, mind. I won't have my reputation tarnished by a lazy successor." He looks sharply at Corve.
Corve raises a brow. "I'll have you know I can shoot a flea off a camel's back with a blindfold on... and I'm wagering I've had a lot less experience than -you,-" he says, smirking back. "Do you really want to know everything? I can tell you what I know... but you have to help me. You have to tell me everything -you- know. About the Serpent of Shadows. Bout who it killed, who killed it, and how to do it again."
Sixth looks seriously down at Corve and sighs. "Can't tell you who or how, Corve, because no one knows. A hundred Exalted went into battle against the Serpent and every one of them died. The Serpent died too, but no one can tell who killed it or how they did it. Not the best of the Sidereals, not even me. All that me, Blossom, Merlyn and Jaguar did was seal the city where the battle happened."
Sixth "When it died, it didn't really die, you know. We knew it was still around, somehow. It was under the city, gobbling up everything it could so it could get stronger and come back to ruin more of the world. But it needed its servants to do anything really important. So we killed them and locked their city under the sands. And since then, there hasn't been a problem."
Corve runs his hand through his hair and ponders ripping some of it off in frustration- but that would probably just prompt more vain comments from his past. "All I know is that something in the catacombs is feared by its followers... I just hope that we got what we needed. We got ambushed by your friend's security team," he mutters. "Yeah, I know. A Behemoth showed me the story... guess what. It's back. They're back.
Corve * Worshipping it, feeding it, whatever you want to call it."
Sixth "The big white balls? Told her those were silly." He cracks his knuckles and flexes his hands. "I wish I could help you fight them...there isn't much to do, just being a memory. But I'll tell you what I can."
Corve nods a little bit in thanks. "I appreciate it. Also... the whole 'holding the dragon over your head in victory' statue? Bit much," he says, grinning.
Sixth "Now that statue I *do* remember and I liked that one." He glowers at Corve, "Nothing wrong with being proud of doing something impressive as that. You know that was a Fetich Soul? You finish saving the world, then tell me you don't deserve a few tasteful statues."
Sixth "Without further comment from certain tasteless people...When we went to Daskim and evacuated all the mortals, brought then here and helped them build Chiaroscuro, we learned a little bit about how the Serpent works. It isn't like a demon with souls and a fetich and so forth. But it isn't a normal Behemoth that you can just expect to die gracefully and sink into the Underworld like it should."
Sixth "It had one master servant, though. Something like a fetich. It used her, it was a dead demoness at the time we fought, as its anchor in Creation. When we killed her, the Serpent slid into the Underworld. At least...I thought it did..."
Sixth "Blossom was never sure. She thought it might not have gone all the way into the Underworld. If it did, she said, it would have become just another hekatonkhire and we could kill it directly. I guess she was right to have doubts.."
Corve nods slowly. "Guess so..."
Sixth "You should be careful telling people their statues are too much. Don't think I wasn't watching you show off my body to the mirror."
Corve smirks. "Well, I've done alright for myself," he says, thinking of Carmine. "In fact, I think you'd most definitely approve."
Corve "Anyway... is there anything else you could tell me? At least tell me where Daskim is... exactly. We've been having trouble finding it, and while the Behemoth gave me a good idea, it's not... it's fuzzy. If you told me I'd probably have a better chance of finding it."
Sixth "I don't know about that...I have high standards. Daskim is under the desert now. But when it was on the surface....if you drew a line due East from Gem, and a line due South from Lap, where they cross, Daskim is there."
Corve nods slowly. "Your standards are pretty high- but I think if- very big if- she didn't meet them looks-wise, the fact that she can cleave a mountain in half would probably make up for it," he says, taking the other information in and making sure to remember it.
Sixth slaps Corve on the back heartily, laughing. "It might indeed! And what's a woman like that doing with you?"
Corve grins a little and raises a brow. "Not sure... but I ain't asking. Counting your stars might lead to losing some, you know?"
Sixth laughs again. "It might, in your case. Now, haven't you a world to save? Go be getting back to yourself, Corve."
Corve snorts a little and gets up. "Yeah. Guess I should. Besides, this is... odd. Nevertheless, if I survive, I'll try to find a way to get back... see if I can tell you how it ended." He winks and walks towards the balcony, stopping. "Any idea -how- I get back?"
Sixth shrugs. "Nope."
Corve smirks a little. "So much for knowing how it all works," he says, chuckling. "Goodbye Sixth." And then he walks towards the balcony's edge, looking down... and closing his eyes.
Sixth pauses a moment. "Corve," the big man's deep voice takes on a soft tone "See if you can't find my family. They'd live near the First Mountain. I don't want them thinking bad of me, no matter what happened with the Dragon-Bloods."
< Lost In The Garden With Snuffles | Ex Pulplogs | Back To Reality >
Stryck Wiki