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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.]
no subject
Ryunosuke looks conflicted for a moment, his expression flipping through about 6 different emotions before just settling back on irritation. He's muttering to Childe just under his breath now, while Paul continues to proselytize at the other Aions present.]
It's just... Everything he's saying is riddled with absolute contradictions! And he's so annoying about it!
no subject
[ Childe motions to other Pleroma: Estinien, Himeka, Cid, Hayame, Johnny, Rand, Toge, and others still further... ] Regardless of whether you are right or Father Paul is right... haven't you noticed most of the Pleroma have given the Regent exactly what they wanted from this?
[ Childe hopes he doesn't have to point out the Pleroma 'winners' in this court for Ryunosuke to recognize the difference. ]
If you can be played like a fiddle as so many of you have been just over this... blatant provocation, Ryunosuke... well, I think you can see where I'm going here?
[ no matter how powerful the Pleroma are, if they can be manipulated by their emotions to follow the script the Regent wants, they'll never be able to be a real threat. He wants Ryu to understand that, and although he still blames Ryu and Dex for Lumine's disappearance, he would rather see the Pleroma get stronger and become more formidable. He wants to fight worthy opponents. Very few of them are worthy in his eyes at this point, and raw strength isn't the only deciding factor. ]
There will be a time and place for your emotional passions to triumph if you all really are destined... heroes. Not here. Argue or deny what you want, but the Regent stated one undeniable truth: Those who have power can do what they want when there's no one powerful enough to stop them. Right or wrong doesn't apply to those that have no moral baseline for themselves. Everything becomes subjective when there is no moral common ground to stand on. That's why your [ all the Pleroma, really, is what he means. ] responses here mean absolutely nothing but entertainment to the Regent.
Father Paul is a little different. He has moral grounds to stand on, but it is justified by circumstances he has or has seen and you have not.
no subject
The thing is: he'd thought he'd quite mastered avoiding the emotion-laden outburst by now. Or at the very least, he's supposed to know better than this! Right? In that regard, Childe isn't telling him anything that he shouldn't already be well aware of when it comes to engaging with the enemy, which really makes his advice feel more like a lecture... Which in turn does make Ryu feel rather like a scolded yapping puppy, as the man had initially implied. He gets a bit snappish, as a result:]
I know all that! I mean-- I know they're just trying to provoke us, I just...
[He lets out a low, wordless growl of frustration, shooting a venomous glare in Paul's direction, and then another one back towards the Regent.]
They're not just content with threatening all of our worlds, they have to go and threaten their own world as well? The very people they claim to care about? It's a duplicitous and gross abuse of power! There's nothing subjective about that.
no subject
Childe doesn't really care one way or the other now with Lumine gone, and he has no plans to get close to anyone here to change his stakes on this place and its ultimate fate. Perhaps that's why none of this bothers him like he can clearly see it bothering a decent number of other Kenoma. He just doesn't have the heart to care. He also knows he doesn't have the strength to care and actually make a difference. That's for heroes, not people like him. ]
That's why being weak makes us useless. If we don't have enough power to stand up against those that do, it doesn't matter how right or wrong either side is. Even children learn they have to eat their vegetables.
Life is never fair—ironically death is.