EVENT #18: EMERGENCE - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #18 - Emergence

OOC Plotting Post ⦁ Pre-Event Info ⦁ Setting Descriptions

Whether voluntary or by force, you find yourself transported to the Singularity's crater. There probably aren't many resistors - officials have taken great pains to convince you to come voluntarily, reserving force as a last resort - but it's clear that everyone is required for this to work. It takes multiple mages to stabilize the portal, but you make it there in one piece. If you cooperate, you'll be asked to walk towards the ancient relic. If you resisted, you might be forced to do so while restrained. Regardless, a heavy fog soon descends around the area, obscuring you and your vision.

If you have thoughts of turning back, it's too late: for some of you, the second you step across the threshold, a force pulls at your chest and absorbs your psyche at once. For others, a mystical call beckons you to walk a little further before the same effect takes hold. And for a rare few, the call brings you to the Singularity itself, where you're compelled to touch it - and are subsequently swallowed up like the others.

The Horizon doesn't greet you like you might expect. Instead, something far stranger awaits.

Please communicate with your fellow players as needed! We also recommend discussing with us if you plan on a major environmental upheaval. As a rule of thumb, you should avoid changes to the landscape that will significantly alter the established map.

We've also posted comment sections for WORLDBUILDING and HANDWAVED submissions. Instructions can be found at the respective links.

Year 20,879

When you open your eyes, it feels like you've only blinked. If your body has transformed or you're someplace that shouldn't exist, it doesn't strike you as odd. You were always here. Everything around you was always here, and your physical alterations and new abilities - while perhaps not originally there - have been a part of you for a long, long time.

The world of Abraxas isn't completely foreign. Familiar territories remain, as well as the familiar faces of those with long lifespans. But a lot has changed in 800 years, too, especially where the Gods are concerned. Alongside the Old Gods of the Ancient Pantheon and the Cardinal Gods of the New Order, a third class of deities formed from you and your fellow Summoned: the Ecesis Gods of the Iterum Pantheon.

Politics, People, & Gods

Abraxas's political landscape remains complex, with continued tensions over land, worship, resources, and power. Nonetheless, since the Free Cities is no longer intent on destroying the Singularity, conflict over the ancient relic has lessened. All territories agree that the Godlands - and the Singularity - belong to the Gods themselves.

Beliefs and Gods

The active presence of the Summoned confirms the existence of the Gods. As a result, most Abraxans turn to the Summoned and other Gods for aid or protection. Extreme reverence exists in certain areas, especially on the Isle of the Lost and in parts of Solvunn. In other places, though, the Gods are merely acknowledged as a facet of life - a force that helps or hinders depending on temperament and should be respected, much like the sea. The Gods play a crucial role, sure, but so do the rain and stars. This is particularly true in the Feywilds, the Nether, and the Free Cities.

Small pockets of non-believers actively denounce the Gods. They claim the Summoned should be wiped from the world and the Singularity destroyed to prevent future invasions. Labeled dangerous heretics by Thorne and Solvunn, and "regressives" by the Free Cities - whose scientists and philosophers liken such thinking to be as foolish as declaring the sun unworthy or the earth to be flat - these people are shunned from society. In Solvunn, the consequences are more severe: heretics are exiled to the Barren, where they are subsumed by the desert, the Maw, or whichever Gods may punish them.

At the other end, some sects revere the Godlands so much that they believe feeding themselves to the relic will enhance Abraxas' good fortune for generations to come. Such cults are quite rare, but there are reports of mortals throwing themselves into the Singularity's crater and disintegrating as a gesture of their devotion to the divine.

International Relations

Due to the combined change in their priorities, Thorne and the Free Cities are less at odds. The Free Cities believes in protecting the Singularity; Thorne no longer seeks to control it. Nonetheless, mistrust flares on occasion.

While things are peaceful during these three months and have been for a few decades, Abraxas hasn't found a cure for war in the Gods. Conflict has broken out in the past and will again. Eyes are on the Nether as it grows in power, and who knows how long Thorne will be content with its losses? Will they convince the Velan Republic to reunite and turn against the Free Cities? For now, though, the territories have found their stride and appear more interested in progress than fighting.

Magic & The Singularity

Magic is relatively unchanged and is a vital part of Abraxan life. The small kingdom of Thorne continues to practice Academic Magic. Meanwhile, Wild Magic plays the same important role in the Velan Republic (formally Nott). Meanwhile, the Free Cities has developed New Magic further. The goal of decoupling magic from technology is less of a focus. Instead, researchers are eager to find new ways to fuse magic and innovation, including aspects of the Gods. Portable shrines, for example, are popular with traveling merchants.

High Magic no longer exists as a specific school of magic now that offerings, pacts, and requests to the Gods are a part of everyday life across Abraxas. Solvunn has returned to its roots, using the ancient Academic Magic practiced by the Lunae for standard tasks while turning to the Gods for greater blessings.

The Singularity has been relatively stable for the past two or three centuries. While occasional disturbances rumble, for the most part, the presence of the Summoned has strengthened it, alleviating its displeasure and ensuring that Abraxas - and possibly the universe itself - continues to exist. Indeed, academic writings from Thorne and the Free Cities across time suggest that the Singularity's devouring of the world has considerably slowed. It is now as much of a threat as the eventual collapse of the sun, something that is bound to occur but not for eons.

Of course, this could quickly change if the Summoned or any other Gods provoke the Singularity by rejecting its connection or denying its magic...so all should take care not to upset the nature of things.

Old World, New World

The map of Abraxas has undergone some notable shifts, although many names and places are the same.

Setting descriptions are HERE for your reference.

Mechapolis, the Witchwood, and the Barren/the Maw contain prompts related to the event itself. Information about those areas can be found under "Exploring the Land" in the section The World as the Divine (Month 1-2).

Month 1-2: Submersion

What do you last remember? Well, that depends. You might recall most things perfectly clearly. You might have new memories that don't feel new at all. Or, you might only remember the most recent year or two. Regardless, there is something missing: an important face, a handful of key events...maybe you don't remember having ever lived anywhere except Abraxas. You might find this unsettling, or you might accept it as just the way things are.

You've transcended those old memories, anyhow. You feel a little distant from the person you were centuries ago, and you most likely look different, too. Perhaps you've sprouted giant wings, become a formless void, or you're now a shapeshifter with no permanent appearance. You've gained a substantial amount of power and influence, the type that people of this world attribute to the Gods.

The first half is a more sandbox-like environment designed for scenarios that emphasize CR and personal character moments. Active conflict between the emergent reality and the world will not arise until the second half.

The World as the Divine

The mortals have bestowed you with a title and possibly a new alias. Do you know your mortal name anymore? Some of you might've taken on a new identity, or you might have held very tightly onto who you were. Regardless, your abilities have grown. Your new powers and appearance are as unique as your dominion, influenced by your interests, subconscious desires, or personal relationships.

While in your full God form, you'll move through the world unperceived. Only when you're sought by a mortal - followers, believers, cultists - can you consciously make your complete divine presence known. To be seen freely by all, you'll have to take on a less overwhelming shape to the mortal gaze. Those who have met the Old Gods or Cardinal Gods in the past finally understand why they seldom reveal their true selves, often arriving in hazy visions or speaking through animals.

Exploring the Land

◎ The Witchwood

As the Summoned continued to ascend, their power began to coalesce, creating a new ecosystem never seen before. The dense woods, originally a temperate climate, warmed and grew into a thriving jungle. The air is humid and heavy with magic, the sky locked into an eternal sunset. Reds and oranges filter through the thick canopy. Birdcall and animal cries echo throughout the jungle. Trees and rocks seemingly move at night, meaning the Witchwood is impossible to map. Foolhardy souls who venture too deep are rarely seen again - unless divine intervention prevents a tragic fate from befalling them. Perhaps one of those intervening Gods is you?

The most dangerous beasts in the Witchwood are the demigod spawns. Creatures born from the Summoned, demigods are powerful enough to affect the world around them should they ever leave the magic-encased forest. See Impact & Consequences for more details on the demigods and how, as the Summoned, you can help maintain Abraxas' ecosystem.

◎ Mechapolis

Heartwood Syndrome persisted in Fomalhaut long after the quarantined population died out. The port city stood as a monument to loss for nearly a century until about 200 years in when the Summoned gained notable influence as Gods. This resulted in a slow but steady acceptance of the Singularity's power as a positive force for potential advancement. New Magic boomed, leading to increased sophistication in technology and the refinement of automatons.

Originally designed to clear and guard Fomalhaut, they were eventually used to rebuild it. Fomalhaut became known as the City of Machines and was renamed Mechapolis. Although humans are barred from entering for safety, the automatons gather soil and air samples for study and perform fishing duties. The clockworks require routine maintenance and must return to a hub city or outpost for recalibration. Clockwork birds are used to communicate with Mechapolis. They can broadcast through the Free Cities's primitive "radio" towers.

You can enhance clockwork performance, boosting the towers or providing additional energy to the automatons. Scientists often have "rituals" when performing maintenance or experiments to earn the Gods' favor, hoping this will prevent their inventions from breaking down.

◎ The Barren/The Badlands

Once contested territory between Thorne and the Free Cities, the Badlands was split into two by a large ravine shortly after Thorne retreated to Hayle. With neither side able to breach the gap, Solvunn naturally laid claim to the western half while the Free Cities retained its eastern half. On the eastern side, the chasm swallowed several well-known bandit camps and the presence of a new entity further drove them away. Bandits now occupy the mountains northeast of Aquila. Due to the entity's threat, the Free Cities increased its military presence in the Badlands to keep careless or foolish travelers from straying too far.

Meanwhile, Solvunn has named its portion of the wasteland the Barren and sought the Gods' assistance to form an enchanted forest. Those who enter are lost forever. Meant for more than just protection, the forest and the Barren serve as a place of exile. Heretics are taken into the woods and left to wander towards the Barren's harsh desert. There, they will face the elements, be devoured by the waiting Maw...or encounter a God.

As a God, you can lead the exiles to their salvation or doom, but choose carefully: the Maw is hungry and must be fed. These exiles want you dead. They don't care for you, and should their lack of faith spread, they might revive attempts to destroy the Singularity - and with it, your home. Is it so wrong to leave them to their fate? On the other hand, saving them might convert them by demonstrating your kindness.

◎ The Maw

The Maw lurks beneath the chasm dividing the Badlands. Named for its gaping jaws, the Maw waits at the widest part of a jagged canyon, mouth open and salivating in the desert heat. Rows and rows of teeth as tall as a man spiral downward into a bloodshot throat. When sated, it retreats deep into the gully, barely visible aside from the shine of a tooth. When hungry, it draws closer to the surface. Hot and heavy winds often carry the putrid scent of its half-digested meals.

Solvunn is not the only territory that uses the Maw. The Free Cities will occasionally march criminals and bandits in that direction, as well, tossing them into the gaping mouth, although this method of execution is much rarer. Desperate exiles from Solvunn will try to cross the chasm despite the danger. None ever make it - at least, not without divine intervention.

Horizon, "Death," and Dormancy

Your domain in the Horizon is no longer constrained by size. How it's changed depends on you. The more detached from your mortality, the more likely it'll have surrealist elements: bizarre statues, physics-defying architecture, odd visual or psychological effects. The Horizon feels like home to all Gods, although you ought to take care not to heed its call beyond reason. Shutting yourself off from the physical world can result in unintended consequences...but completely refusing to enter the Horizon will do the same.

Additionally, Gods are beyond true death, but that doesn't mean you can act with impunity. Engaging in an exhaustive battle with other Gods can weaken you into dormancy. In this state, you will enter an ethereal void inside the Singularity. As you heal, you'll slowly be able to return to your Horizon domain and then the physical world once more. Depending on the extent of the damage, this process could take anywhere from months to decades. For instance, losing your head could take a few months, total dismemberment might take a year, and being vaporized into atoms can take a few decades.

Mortals cannot achieve this level of damage, even if they seemingly "succeed" in striking true. Only a God can weaken another God into dormancy. If a mortal removes your head, you can merely pick it up and put it back on.

Impact & Consequences

In the early years of your ascension, you might've wondered why the existing Gods seemingly intervened so little. Why did they not demonstrate their powers more blatantly over the thousands of years? Is it apathy? A desire to watch rather than act? As you come into your abilities, you realize that the Singularity and the universe are significantly more delicate than you thought. You begin to understand why the Gods have behaved the way they do.

Of course, whether you care to keep the world (and yourself) in balance is another story, but to be sure, some of the other Gods and the Summoned do - and you may have to defend your choices.

The equilibrium mechanic is described in OOC terms HERE. The Singularity and a character's ascension will not inherently sway them one way or the other. Any temptations will result from individual personality and development.

Instability Effects

To maintain the universe's equilibrium, you need to be cautious of when and how you interfere when using your status to alter the state of the world. Conversely, you'll also need to take care not to withdraw entirely. Several Gods have undergone periods of instability, though others haven't. Which category you fall under is up to you. It depends on who you are, your experiences, and your desires.

◎ Should you refuse to ACKNOWLEDGE your Godhood or enter the Horizon, you'll find yourself losing time. You may forget how you got from one place to another, or names you knew yesterday slip your mind. Lapses in memory or time can be temporary or permanent, but one thing they are is certainly confusing. With magic building inside you and nowhere for it to go, your power will begin to spill over, causing the Singularity to exhibit bursts of power that spawn demigods in the Witchwood.

◎ Should you give into the temptation to OVERINDULGE your Godhood or retreat to the Horizon for excessive periods, you'll lose more of yourself and your history. You may make decisions that feel unlike you, forget larger chunks of old memories, or struggle to distinguish what's real. Unrestrained use of magic will cause you to absorb yet more power, causing the Singularity to lose power in brief spurts, which can spawn demigods in the Witchwood.

These effects can be halted or even reversed in some cases. You might need someone's help to bring you back or convince you there's another way, or maybe you're the one seeking others out to assist. What you do soon understand is that your ability to manage your powers and stabilize your connection to the Horizon directly affects the Singularity and Abraxas...something that may have been true the moment you were summoned.

Demigod Spawns

Under the red haze of the Witchwood, monstrous creatures known as demigods or spawns emerge from crimson waterfalls and claw their out through the mossy soil. Born out of instabilities caused by careless actions from all Gods, they're usually contained to the Witchwood. For the most part, the older Gods - and the Summoned, if they choose - keep the demigods from leaving. However, now and again, one or two might escape, damaging towns, destroying villages, or causing ecological destruction in ways that are similar to natural disasters.

Demigods are not sentient. How they look can vary, but their appearances are often corrupted and disturbing: twisted animals, amorphous blobs, or alien-like parasites. They may resemble a monster you recognize from home.

Defeating one is possible but a challenge even for the Gods. Most crucially, you cannot kill your own spawn. Another God must deliver the killing blow, so working together is imperative. Should too many demigod spawns be allowed to invade the Witchwood, they will overwhelm and disrupt the Singularity further. Culling them is the only way to maintain stability.

You can submit demigod spawns you create to the WORLDBUILDING section if you want. Similar to using character powers, just keep the scale of destruction at a reasonable level.

Hearing Echoes

Echoes are a form of prayer that resonates through your connection with the Singularity. Solvunn has dedicated a monument to where the "First Echo" was heard, though the accuracy of this is debatable. Like the Network, you can hear an Echo regardless of where you are and can shut them out with concentration. However, your ties to Godhood may compel you to listen every so often. Mortals can entreat you through more formal methods (rituals, offerings, seasonal ceremonies) or in a moment of duress or desperation. They may seek you specifically or call to any God who will listen.

You can answer or ignore these cries for help as you like, but your choices carry consequences. Answer too many too eagerly, and your increased interference in mortal lives can upset the world's equilibrium - and the Singularity. Ignore your impact on the world, and your refusal to accept your ascension will equally destabilize the land as prayers go unheard.

Interacting with Other Gods

The Old Gods and the Cardinal Gods are an equal part of this world. For the most part, you coexist peacefully, though personal pacts and tensions can play a role. Each of you is aware of the impact of your actions on the Singularity: extreme displays of power are reserved for substantial transgressions, considering the price it carries.

Further, the older Gods have also walked the earth for centuries before you came. To them, you're still young, and rising against one of them won't end well for you. Nonetheless, many older Gods are more interested in giving advice or guiding you, ensuring the health of the Singularity and the universe so as not to doom all of you - Gods and mortals alike - to the void.

You can REQUEST AN INTERACTION with a God. Interactions will be brief but informative.

You will not be able to request a specific God. For logistical reasons, we have curated the list of Gods available ahead of time. However, we'll do our best to pick one from the pool that suits the purpose of your request.

Month 3: Awakening

Over the past 2 months, you've existed in the emergent reality without question. As you enter the third month, however, everything you've known over the past many centuries begins to shift. You might decide to investigate further, wondering if there's more out there that you aren't seeing. Alternatively, you might choose to ignore it, believing that your awakening is damaging the world and your life.

Catalysts

A catalyst can occur at any time through any circumstance. Do you see a familiar face you've forgotten in the eyes of a stranger? Do you recall a moment in your past while watching the mortals? Has a friend approached you specifically to try and remind you of the things you've forgotten?

With each memory returned you'll gain another piece of yourself. Depending on how much you've lost and how hard you'll cling to this reality, the effect may be clarifying or it might cause you distress and confusion. You might begin to encounter temporal cracks: buildings or areas that normally don't exist will flicker in and out of existence, or your reflection will briefly show an image of you from before your transformations took hold.

If you allow yourself to doubt your abilities or divinity, you might have trouble controlling your powers. If you've made alterations to your Horizon domain, it might start to revert to its original design.

These cracks are difficult to ignore, but if you bury your head, you can make them disappear - briefly, at least.

Shattered Skies

The effects go beyond the individual. As more of you and your fellow Gods reawaken, the sky also begins to form cracks that spread like broken glass. Through the fractures, you glimpse flashes of lightning and a swirling fog. The fissures only grow larger.

Soon, you realize you can see the Singularity itself, reflected upside-down in the crater. Disconcerting though it is, it may serve as proof that something is very wrong. Of course, you can also refuse to acknowledge this disturbance, closing your eyes to the crumbling sky. Doing so will let you remain unaware to the very end, but your friends who are seeking the truth might find your denial distressing.

The sky won't hold, though. Eventually, it does shatter completely - and you awaken abruptly, your body and others scattered several feet away from the Singularity's crater as if you were physically thrown out. The fog begins to dissipate. The lightning has stopped, the unrelenting storms fading across Abraxas. Whatever you went through, it seems to have done exactly what the territories hoped: stabilize the Singularity.

Characters will be returned home afterward. They will be thanked for their assistance regardless of if they cooperated.

Resistors will not face any consequences, as long as they don't cause excessive trouble upon their return. Officials will issue an apology for the heavy-handed action, stating that they saw no other way to keep the world safe. With the portals and weather returning to normal, it does seem to have worked...even if characters may not find the method agreeable.

---

Comments

[kobes]

Part of Koby could recall the Normandy, if he tried -- and he used to, back towards the beginning, back when he was becoming less human and more more. He doesn't as much, now. It seems silly, holding onto something that was. There's just the immediate, that moment, the Normandy rusting and crumbling into the earth in front of them. Time is immaterial.

Shepard's disapproval can still hit home, even after all this time -- hers and few others. Koby winces a little, ducking his head to avoid her intent, vivid red gaze. "I'm not hiding. I'm -- thinking." Actually, that's not entirely true, and they both know it. Koby doesn't think, he speaks, he does, he processes by acting, a skill he's very good at by now.

The mention of a job has him looking back up, arching both eyebrows. "A job." Unsaid: you always say it's not like the last time.

[earthborn]

Eight-hundred years old, and he never stopped sounding like a teenager. Shepard can't help but roll your eyes. Thinking. Right. Bullshit, but convincing bullshit— she discards the concept on the merit that doing so is in her best interests, irrespective of the truth.

"Sure. Look at this," She holds out her hand, and it appears in response, ruddy flame-colored, a hologram in orange blaze-glow. It might've resembled an omnitool, once. Now it has heat-haze. She's used to it, "People are always coming to me with their issues. But the smart ones know better than to do it for nothing."

The complaints scrolling by are heartfelt, a transcript of all the little voices whispering in Shepard's ear while she stands and looks at the ship.

My boss is so selfish! First it's one shift, then it's covering for rush hour on no notice. It's my fucking day off! Gods, I just wish he'd get a taste of his own medicine!

Please Shepherd, grant me the patience to deal with my captain. He means well, but he drives us so hard...

I don't know what she even wants from me! I'm just a secretarial aide, not a miracleworker! Oh gods of all beleagered employees, give me a short line at the coffee-shop this morning, I don't know what she'll do to me if she doesn't get this hot and on time.

I ask for so little, and no one can do the simplest task. Are they deliberately undermining me, or is it incompetence? Lady of Fire, I'd make an offering at your shrine if I thought it'd help, but even the gods won't have mercy on me if we miss this deadline, and all for want of a little initiative.

Shepard nudges him gently, "C'mon. Take your pick. It's a big world out there, and what's the point of all this power if we don't use it?"

[kobes]

Koby would argue that's because of the company -- Shepard inspires teenage grumbling, perhaps? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, he comes over to examine the screen, mildly jealous that Shepard gets her Echoes this way. His come in messages in bottles, or occasionally tied to the legs of seagulls. And seagulls are difficult messengers.

"There certainly are a lot of them." A pause, an arched eyebrow up at her. "Lady of Fire? That's new, isn't it?" Or he's been out for so long that the language of the common folk's reverence has changed. Also a possibility.

After a beat, Koby points at the last message, tapping the screen and leaving flickers of stardust. "Not that one. One from the assistant, or the workers."

[earthborn]

"You burn one shitty politician alive, and suddenly it's all you're known for," Shepard grumbles, clearly unrepentant. After all, he'd deserved it, "Not a fan of upper management?"

Smoke hisses with her breath, a sharp exhalation; she's laughing at him.

"Alright, so you want more background. Here, let me just..." She frowns, and the screen clears away in a cloud of embers, red-gold flaring where it comingles with his own power, "There we go."

The sparks coalesce into a fiery image of a woman with her hair pinned back, apron tied over her dress, looking harried and unhappy, the words of her complaint about shift inconsistencies whirling around her head. Then next to her, a man in a Free Cities uniform, the details of his corporal's insignia picked out in white-hot sparks, smoking a cigarette with his head bowed to cast his cap's shade across his eyes. The third is a prim-looking woman with rigidly straight hair, spectacles, and a hurried bearing, running in place whilst holding a cup of something in one hand, carefully balanced. The last briefly sketches itself in the air, a brief vision of light and fire of someone sitting behind a desk, but before the details can form, Shepard waves a hand through it, and it scatters like smoke.

"Don't worry about that one, I'll get to her later. Got a favorite?"

[kobes]

"Only one?" Koby says it a little dryly, though he's gotten better at being less bossily fretful towards people, with time. His sense of right and wrong -- so sharply acute when they'd met, all those centuries before -- has softened with experience, with the understanding that some people can and will change and others, quite simply, will not. Shepard is who she is, now as always, and Koby's made his peace with that.

Besides, at her heart, she's the righteous force she's always been, and that's something even a more lawful good being can appreciate. Like now, as the images flicker through, giving face and dimension to the words of prayer -- they're common folk, people who aren't advantaged by the systems, people who deserve justice. Koby's especially softened by the image of the soldier for...some reason. He can't quite recall. He'snever been a soldier -- right?

So instead -- "The first one. She looks exhausted." A pause. "We're not going to kill anyone, are we?"

[earthborn]

"We? No," Shepard says, cocking her head invitingly towards the vision of the unhappy waitress. Smoke billows as she steps forward into her, wreathing them both in a brief fug of acrid, sulphuric darkness, "Me? That depends on what kind of illuminating information we turn up."

That's a pun, you see. Because you are luminous, Koby. Because your place here, is to do just that, to illuminate the issue at hand. To light up the information. To make it brighter and easier to see. Koby, do you get the joke. She's grinning.

"The lady asked for a comeuppance, if I see something worth the trouble, it'd set a bad precedence not to comply. People who go knocking on my door don't get to complain when I open it up and give them what they deserve."

The smoke clears to show the interior of a pub, only barely less smoggy than Shepard's unique brand of Horizon-travel. It's a busy night, just barely on the trailing edge of sunset, and food and drink are making a regular parade through the benches, booths, and tables assembled as closely-packed as is economically viable. At the back, the doors to the kitchen swing briefly wide, showing a glimpse of a wild-haired man in black, sleeves rolled up, having a wildly animated discussion with a waitress— with the woman from the vision. Their words, inaudible over the din of the crowd, are nevertheless obvious from the gesticulating arms and frustrated expressions. A small child clings to the woman's knees, clutching a toy leosylph.

"There's our target. What do you think? Right into the fire, or..."

She's joking. Probably.

[kobes]

Koby steps into the portal with a mild wince, holding his breath slightly against the familiar, acrid scent. And then he sighs heavily, because yes, Shepard. He gets the joke. "Hilarious. I'll do my best to illuminate." The sigh would probably be more warranted if Koby wasn't literally glowing in the dark, his hair and skin perpetually luminous.

They step out into the physical world, and Koby twitches a little at the shift. The Horizon is as real as anything to him, but it's also other, understandable in a way the mortal realm has long since ceased to be. It's also a testament to how long he's stayed in his own domain, that there's a physical reaction.

But he shakes it off, rolling his eyes again, then frowning at the sight of the child. That adds another layer -- many of Koby's requests from the Abraxans come upon the birth of a new child, asking for guidance on their life, on their maiden voyages. This is becoming rapidly more personal. "Hilarious. You said you needed more information -- focus on that." While much of Koby's power comes in guiding people through physical journeys, there are metaphorical ones to be taken too. Guiding someone to a goal is a form of a voyage, right? At any rate, one Shepard refocuses on the job, Koby's stardust-formed fish form out of nothing, guides to the answer.

[earthborn]

She doesn't respond, not at first, but there's something of satisfaction in her face, to see him engage fully with the issue at hand. That's the spirit. It'd been a long time since Koby had been anything approximating a child, but Shepard remembered watching him grow into a man. And now look at him.

Right: to work.

The argument comes into focus as they cross the room, a zoo of cluttered human noise, smells, and exhalations. The floor is sticky, and everyone moves across it as if the friction is the only thing keeping them on their feet; even the patrons look tired and impatient. The manager is tersely explaining that he'd hired the woman for a reason, that he needs help, and look at this place, what is he to do? He cannot call on anyone else, there's no one else left to call. And she's here, and he's paying, and...

There's always an excuse.

The barmaid, or waitress, or serving wench, Shepard's never sure what the right term is for any given century, only looks on, dour-eyed and unsympathetic, one hand reaching back to hush the insistent child. He's staring at Koby and Shepard with enormous eyes, tugging at his mother's clothing to get her attention; the mother only glances down, one time, and then goes back to trying to explain to her boss that a day off can't be altered just because of altered circumstances. That plans are plans, and promises are promises, and there's no world where she can simply perch her son in a corner for ten hours and hope for the best. No, not even if she— Koby's fish twine between them, casting white light across her face, but she continues, unseeing, the truth spilling out of her in illuminating cascades: No, not even if she desperately needs the money, not even if she said yes last time, and the time before, and the time before.

"There it is," Shepard says, smoke running a river through her teeth. Yes, oh yes, indeed, "Thanks for coming, Koby. It's easier when you have a good crew."

[kobes]

The manager is looming over the woman, over the child, and Koby sees the bewilderment and concern in the child's face, the way he doesn't seem to know what to make of the Summoned appearing before him. He can also see the intentions in the man, the way he'll continue pushing and pushing and pushing, taking advantage of his employees every way he possibly can, because he knows he pays too little, that he works the waitstaff too hard, and he knows that's why they'll always say yes.

There's a low, dull flare of righteous indignation, and then the silvery fishes are swimming down to catch the child's attention, to guide him away from the conflict. Just in case. The boy goes, reaching out for the sparkling, glittering bits of stardust, his own desires to get away from the situation, to go back home where it's safe. Koby guides him to a seat, lets the fish swim back and forth, keeping the child distracted for the moment.

"It's not over with yet," Koby replies quietly, though he can feel Shepard's intentions, as much as she'll allow him. He's not the avenging angel she is, but he protects his own, and his sense of right and wrong has only deepened with time. If she chooses to resolve things more...violently, well. It's her petitioner, after all. And people abusing their power are more than likely deserving of such justice. "I've got your back, if you need it." Even though he's fairly sure she won't.

[earthborn]

"Good boy," She says, automatically, stepping forward until she is right over the manager's shoulder, smoke wreathing around his neck and shoulders, pooling at both their feet. The kid lets go of his mother, chasing the fish amongst the mop-bucket and sacks of potatoes. Even so, neither of the adults seems to see her, until she drops a heavy hand on the man's shoulder.

He stops speaking immediately, head thrown back, mouth open, the smell of fresh bacon filling the air. The woman screams, an abortive, hideous yelp that she cuts off with both hands slapped over her mouth, staring with enormous, frightened eyes at Shepard. Neither of them seem happy to see her here, for some reason.

"Do me a favor," Shepard says, low and conversational. The Manager sucks in an agonized breath, his eyes bugging out, watching her like a trapped rabbit. He seems torn, unable to look directly at her, unable to stop looking, unable to turn his head, pinned utterly under the sizzling expanse of her palm and fingertips, "Pick a schedule. Stick to it. People can't respect a man who's always changing his mind."

A clear command. The woman's eyes dart briefly away, searching for her child, then refocus with terrified ferocity as Shepard raises her face towards her. The kitchen is quiet, all noise abruptly ceased at her scream; though none of them could see the gods among them, the blazing handprint charring itself across their boss' shoulder made the danger of the moment clear. No one moved.

"And you. Don't go asking the gods for help, unless you actually want to see me again. This is something you could've solved on your own. Got it?"

She nodded twice, trembling, tears welling up. The manager choked, fighting to keep his feet, and then losing that fight in an unconscious slump as Shepard let him go. That would be a scar.

"Good."

The kid rounded a corner and the mother held out her arms. Noise slowly crept back in as first one and then another employee got back to work— and the waitress plunged back out the back door as quickly as she could, her child clutched in arms and loudly begging to be let to go back to the fishies. Briefly, Shepard regards the man on the floor, and then sighs and turns away, turns back to Koby.

"And nobody died, this time. Was that so bad?"

[kobes]

Well, it's -- not exactly the way Koby would've handled the situation, but it's definitely a solution, isn't it. He holds himself back, remaining unseen as Shepard's hand reaches down, as the man stiffens and sizzles, though there's a bit of a flare of his starlit aura at the smell. Koby's not much of a violence type of person, but -- well. In 800 years you do a lot of things -- and lava and stars are both hot, at their cores. He's more than familiar with the scent of overheated, burning flesh.

But then it's over, and Koby exhales, raking a hand backwards through his hair, scattering stardust to the ground. He watches the woman scoop up her son, hurry away, watches the other employees slowly circle around the man sprawled on the ground. And he only rolls his eyes a little at Shepard's bright commentary.

"No, I suppose not. Very restrained, actually." He steps over the body on the ground, scrunching up his nose, then shaking his head. "For a petitioner, she certainly didn't seem to be happy to see you. Then again, it's sort of like trying to hunt rabbits with cannons, isn't it? Calling on you for a scheduling issue?"

[earthborn]

She looks at him for a long minute, head cocked, looking at him with a strange half-smile, as if he had told an unfunny joke, or perhaps as if she knew something he didn't.

"Oh, well that's the thing: I'm not the kind of god people are happy about meeting. Nobody's ever happy to see the stick when they'd rather have the carrot," Shepard only turned away when the door from the kitchens to the back alley slammed open again, and still she didn't reply until those coming in had cleared the way for her to step out into the night. It was a cold one, and she gave off a faint steam as she went.

"Not you, not her, not even the people who call on me by name," She continues, bitterness dosed with smugness. It was a tiresome way to exist, but just the same she did enjoy being a monster in the dark, "...Well, except maybe Archangel."

[kobes]

Koby tilts his head slightly, mystified by her expression -- but then Shepard's moving on, stepping back out into the night. He follows, casting a faint glow, less warm than hers, but brighter, lighting the way through the dim, grimy alleys. "The stick. That's a simplistic way of looking at yourself, you know."

It's a common critique, one Koby's given several times before, with lessening levels of caution. Age and experience have made him blunt, and he trusts Shepard not to retaliate violently. It's an odd sort of relationship to have with an avenging god.

The mention of Archangel -- Garrus -- gets a soft smile, a warming of the starlight. "He's always been your main exception." A beat. Then: "I'm not unhappy to see you. That isn't why I've stayed away so long."

[earthborn]

"I'm a blunt object," Shepard replies, a flat case-in-point, "Always have been."

It's a funny thing; she ought to be the last person to forget Garrus' name. But he's been Archangel for so long that... Well, it doesn't matter. Whatever you cal him, she knows him.

"So why did you hole up like that? It can't be because people aren't making requests. I get the general calls to action, just as much as specifics ones." Which is to say, Kobe ought to have the same issue. But Shepard sighs after a moment, thinking, "...Or is that the problem? Don't want to deal with this shit?"

[kobes]

There's a soft sigh, Koby's arms crossing over his chest in mild exasperation. It's an old argument, he knows, one he isn't going to win anytime soon. Besides, there are more important things to talk about.

"I saw Archangel earlier. Just before I came to see you." It seems like a non-sequitur, something completely out of left field, but Koby follows it with context: "I told him why I'd stayed away and he suggested you might be able to help.

"I've been feeling...strange. Not myself." A self which has always been very simple, straightforward: lawful good, light and positivity and the like. A paragon sort of persona, one Koby has never strayed from. It's no secret that he has a bit of a reputation as a little bit of a stick-in-the-mud, considering how rarely he considers options that are shades of grey.

[earthborn]

"How so?" He'll have to forgive her for sounding suspicious; she always sounds this way, when she's chewing over a problem, "Like a new ability coming out?"

It'd been centuries since any of them had really developed something truly new. A new name, a new application of what they could already do, sure, but... something actually new? Something more? Shepard thought of the elder gods and frowned. They were big fish in a small pond, in most ways, but that didn't mean there weren't bigger ones around. There was always more growing to do, and if that were where this were going, Kobe would be the first.

She didn't like it. Vanguards are the first into the breach, and the last out; it's a dangerous job, and Shepard doesn't want him exposed to that kind of risk.

Wait— no, that was wrong. Kobe was only barely younger than any of them, he was a grown man he could handle... anything that came at him... right?

"Elaborate."

[kobes]

"Maybe? Yes? No?" Koby's voice is pitched up, squeaky with unease the way it had been so, so often when he was younger. He's been so settled in himself for centuries, though, that the sound of the nervousness has him jittery, unsettled.

The little fish-shaped guides don't reform, Koby's energy too uneasy, too unsure to sustain them, but the light around him does shiver in a strange, uneasy way. He swallows tightly, shifting from one foot to the other, like he's too anxious to stand still.

"It feels like that, kind of, but I think it's...it's always been here. I've just been ignoring it. Like the...opposite of what I usually do?" The opposite of lighting the way, guiding, protecting, helping. The opposite of everything Koby's tried to be for so many centuries.