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THE REGENT'S ADDRESS [OPEN TO ALL]
[It comes on fast, once the Regent has your spirit in their hold. Around you, you may see other Aions stumble in the same moment, as if shaken by the same tectonic motion. An inexorable darkness claws at your senses, and you have only a few moments, hard fought, to reposition yourself so that you don't simply drop to the ground when it overtakes you. It has similarities to Communion, to the way another entity's thoughts and words reach out to your mind, but by the same token it's entirely foreign.
This presence is not like another person, it is like a raging, screaming cacophony that drowns out everything else in its path. Whether you be Kenoma or Pleroma, the Regent's presence in this metaphysical realm is staggering. To the Pleroma, though, it also feels caustic, as if the movement of their aura is enough to erode your own, with time.
Gradually, a new world forms. Unlike other Communions, where you are ultimately grounded in reality, here you can been dragged to what seems to be its own distinct psychic realm. A vast, void-filled courtroom, where only the throne at its front has a defined form. Around you, you see shadows of other people, other Aions, that have summoned along with you... but for the moment they seem spectral and unclear, their identities obscured by the realm's aggressive focus on its master.
The Regent sits at their throne, their body swathed in dark fabrics that drift and flutter like smoke. They have no face to be seen, only a faceted silver mask, without any markings or the barest indication of what might be beneath it. Their size is indistinct, maybe a bit taller than you are. They at first sit reclined, but straight up as their 'guests' arrive.]
It's been a long time coming, my subjects.
[At first, they are the only one that can be heard. Though you feel as if you have some physical presence here, a shadowy body of your own, if you attempt to speak no sound emerges.]
To the Pleroma: well done surviving thus far. Granted, I feel as if my Kenoma have made things easy for you. How strange, that most of you were allowed to wander a city within my empire without recourse. Able to summon that wretched creature to your side, even.
I hope you've enjoyed yourself, in the time you've had, because this will be no more. You've spread your infection in Venera, in Godsblood, and it is only necessary that these wounds be cleansed by the touch of the Kenoma. Your presence gives the people ideas... ideas that would disrupt the fragile peace they've come to enjoy, after so many years of suffering. As a kindness, I will only trim the vine, rather than burn the vineyard. What Venerans have taken up your cause, I will see shorn from my empire. And in Godsblood... an example will be made, as of the Sovereign's moon.
My Kenoma will do this for me. Fight them, if you want. But know that I am no longer asking for your fealty. I am demanding it.
[As if opening their court for questions, you will find yourself more able to act. Those that speak or take action will find their physical forms taking shape, standing in the court as people rather than shadows. If you want to question the Regent, now is the time to do so.
OOC: This post is a free for all! We will try to response as the Regent to people who directly engage with them, but you are also allowed to threadjack and interact with each other if you like. Please note that we will not be responding to tag ins done later than the 12th.]
This presence is not like another person, it is like a raging, screaming cacophony that drowns out everything else in its path. Whether you be Kenoma or Pleroma, the Regent's presence in this metaphysical realm is staggering. To the Pleroma, though, it also feels caustic, as if the movement of their aura is enough to erode your own, with time.
Gradually, a new world forms. Unlike other Communions, where you are ultimately grounded in reality, here you can been dragged to what seems to be its own distinct psychic realm. A vast, void-filled courtroom, where only the throne at its front has a defined form. Around you, you see shadows of other people, other Aions, that have summoned along with you... but for the moment they seem spectral and unclear, their identities obscured by the realm's aggressive focus on its master.
The Regent sits at their throne, their body swathed in dark fabrics that drift and flutter like smoke. They have no face to be seen, only a faceted silver mask, without any markings or the barest indication of what might be beneath it. Their size is indistinct, maybe a bit taller than you are. They at first sit reclined, but straight up as their 'guests' arrive.]
It's been a long time coming, my subjects.
[At first, they are the only one that can be heard. Though you feel as if you have some physical presence here, a shadowy body of your own, if you attempt to speak no sound emerges.]
To the Pleroma: well done surviving thus far. Granted, I feel as if my Kenoma have made things easy for you. How strange, that most of you were allowed to wander a city within my empire without recourse. Able to summon that wretched creature to your side, even.
I hope you've enjoyed yourself, in the time you've had, because this will be no more. You've spread your infection in Venera, in Godsblood, and it is only necessary that these wounds be cleansed by the touch of the Kenoma. Your presence gives the people ideas... ideas that would disrupt the fragile peace they've come to enjoy, after so many years of suffering. As a kindness, I will only trim the vine, rather than burn the vineyard. What Venerans have taken up your cause, I will see shorn from my empire. And in Godsblood... an example will be made, as of the Sovereign's moon.
My Kenoma will do this for me. Fight them, if you want. But know that I am no longer asking for your fealty. I am demanding it.
[As if opening their court for questions, you will find yourself more able to act. Those that speak or take action will find their physical forms taking shape, standing in the court as people rather than shadows. If you want to question the Regent, now is the time to do so.
OOC: This post is a free for all! We will try to response as the Regent to people who directly engage with them, but you are also allowed to threadjack and interact with each other if you like. Please note that we will not be responding to tag ins done later than the 12th.]
sorry
This is bad, knock it off, please. ]
no subject
[ Matt, now standing out bright and clear against the shadows, clutches his cheek and regards Childe with a look that's somewhere between wounded and exasperated.
But good news, he's definitely been startled out of any moral quagmires he might have entertained. ]
What the fuck happened to hello?
no subject
[ because honestly he's concluded the Regent is incredibly bored and
feels like Twitter fighting the Pleroma more than anythinglooking for an outlier here. ]no subject
Yeah, it's great, [ he huffs. ] Normally I like people to buy me dinner before they hit me.
no subject
[ despite his friendly expression he will get a bit more serious (not that he was joking about dinner technically) and speak a little quieter. ] ...If you still aren't feeling well mentally, you should disconnect from this ASAP, okay? This is definitely a poor space.
no subject
[ His lofty amusement begins to drain away as Childe reminds him of how they started this tangent in the first place. He hesitates.
Attending this meeting--this holding of court--did not feel optional. So Matt had sort of assumed that he should wait until they were all dismissed. But on the other hand, if even outside parties can sense that he's not having a great time right now, that lends some credence to his worry that it's dangerous to linger. A touch ruefully, he notes: ]
I guess I wouldn't want to make us look bad in front of our mortal enemies.
[ Don't worry, I'm sure the Pleroma are rightfully intimidated by your all-terrain flirting abilities. ]
no subject
They're completely harmless at the moment since they're too busy letting the Regent pull their strings. Nevertheless, your mind is your own, and there's no value here for suffering through letting others see into it because that's when they start getting ideas. They start thinking they know you and how to control you one way or the other.
[ he doesn't outright say it, but he's worried about Matt's confidence being hit by others or them attempting to take advantage by manipulation regardless of side.
Childe's opinion is firm on the privacy of ones thoughts: No one should be allowed in anyone else's head. ]
no subject
[ There's no value here for suffering. It's like what Paul said--what Matt believes at bottom, through the balking of his vestigial impulses. Suffering isn't inherently bad; but it should have a point. He hadn't thought that he might be vulnerable in ways that rippled past this moment. But then, Matt's never been much good at deducing the motivations of others. ]
I see what you're saying. That makes a lot of sense.
[ Matt's communion-self flickers a bit closer to Childe. He lifts his (right) hand, fingers waggling in a small wave. ]
In that case, I'll see you at dinner.
[ And he fades away, the connection severing. ]