THE REGENT'S ADDRESS [OPEN TO ALL]

[aionpcs]

[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.]

Comments

[galdorleod]

[ Howl recovers from the shock of this 'invitation' relatively quickly. There's something distinctly familiar about the roar of this darkness, the way it overwhelms the mind, and while Howl is just as susceptible to it as everyone else, it comes as much less of a jarring surprise.

He watches everything unfold around him — Estinien's predictable attempt at the Regent, the shouts of anger and disapproval from the Pleroma Aions as they find themselves before the Regent for the first time, the sense of annoyance that some of his fellow Kenomas express at the Regent's decision to do all this — in silence. Internally, a heavy emptiness starts to weigh on him. He knows that this means war — finally, the war is beginning, and things are going to get bad.

And that... is fine. It does not trouble him. He has no objections, nor is he particularly excited. It's what the Regent wants, and so, he must do it. No other course of action makes sense.

Still, Howl is acutely aware of the fact that this is the first time he's seen or spoken to the Regent since his flagrant disrespect of them several months ago. During a lapse in the drama, he takes a step forward, puts a hand to his chest, and bows at the waist. As is usual when Howl feels like he has nothing to say for himself, he says nothing, relying instead on the meager physical gesture to say what he doesn't have the courage to try to express. ]

[aionpcs]

[The Regent doesn't outwardly acknowledge his reaction, but it is noted.]

[lachtara]

[ Emet-Selch flicks a glance in Howl's direction. The boy's mannerisms after their first banquet with the Regent come to mind and the reaction thereafter.

So he casually makes his way from where he is and makes to stand closer to Howl's side for reassurance's sake. It's not an overtly obvious gesture, maybe not even noticeable, but he's there for what it's worth. ]

[galdorleod]

[ After Howl stands up straight from the bow, he steps back to where he was quietly listening to the chaos and drama around them. In the periphery of his vision is the tall, lanky silhouette of Emet-Selch. The young wizard glances towards him and blinks. Did he draw close on purpose, for his sake, or... was it just timed in an odd way? In either case, Howl finds some comfort in his presence.

With someone he trusts nearby, he speaks for the first time. ]

...It seems the contest is finally about to start.

[lachtara]

And so the war begins in earnest.

[ Emet-Selch exhales a small sigh. It's inevitable, hopefully they can be done with it quickly.

He looks to Howl. ]

I assume you have some thoughts on the matter?

[galdorleod]

Hm.

[ The small noise is all he offers in immediate response. He does have quite a few thoughts, and not all of them are consistent with each other. The Kenoma wound around his soul, the brainwashing, his cowardice, his original and true abhorrence of war, they're all competing for his attention in his head. He only has so much willpower and energy to spare — and the reprogramming and doomer mindset wins out.

After a thoughtful pause, he speaks again. ] This was inevitable. That has always been the case. Sometimes, there's no choice but to fight... and I have always been prepared for when such times arise.

[ But there's a numbness in Howl's voice as he speaks. He doesn't say any of this with excitement, or pride, or confidence. It's more like resignation. ]

[lachtara]

[ His eyes narrow ever-so-slightly. That response seems somewhat... strange coming from Howl. He can't quite put his finger on why. Is it nerves? Or does he truly separate himself from battle as some do? Hm.

It makes his own response somewhat clipped. ]

See that you are.

[baltimores]

[ This is a pleasant surprise.

Amos is distinctly aware of the fact that he owes Howl something, at some point. But knowing, now, that Howl gets it certainly picks his spirits up some.

He nods in his direction, a tacit sign of support. Glad to have you, then. Glad to be working together. ]

[galdorleod]

[ Ah, but does Howl get it? really? Amos doesn't know just how altered Howl is at this point, so it's natural for him to see this and assume that he does indeed 'get it' — but the solemn, wordless show of obedience from the normally flamboyant and playful wizard may rightly come across as not quite right to some onlookers.

Either way, if Howl noticed the nod from Amos, he does not show it. Once the bow is over, he simply steps back to where he was standing and listening from. ]