Lords of Creation: Sheltering Darkness (IC Thread)

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Vion was surprised. Most sparks that he tried talking to before they entered the world at large seemed lackadaisical. They'd go on to be the spirits of single-celled organisms, worms, flies, and the sort. "What would you like to be born as," he asked the small mote of essence.

"I'd like to have wings and be tall and be all glowing and golden!  I want to be strong!  I want to live by the ocean!"

The Black Lord thought for a moment. He wasn't familiar with anything like that, but perhaps... "Would you like to live in this body?"

He created a phantasmal image of a red dragon, proud and mighty, with the evening rays of the sun causing its scales to look golden.

"  NO!"  The little soul cried out.   "I want wings of light!  Like this!"   

The soul flickered and streamers of light shot forth from it in two directions, fanned once, then snapped back into the ball of soul-ey-ness.

"Oooooohhh..."  The soul cried, clearly discombobulated by its exertion. 

"I am sorry," Vion said, "There isn't anything like that in the world. Perhaps a nice mosquito would appeal to you?"

"Oh."  The soul said, clearly disappointed.

"Guess I'll wait."

The soul flittered back up towards the Allsoul and resolved to wait until its  type of body was waiting for it. 

As swift finished The great library he stood back and gazed, it’s crystal spires gleamed with golden light, those mortals below could see the glint as a small bright spot on the golden moon, much of the light cast down upon the realm from the golden moon was directly caused by the glint cast off from the Crystalline spires of the library,

With his work done swift eagerly whent inside, He summoned forth many divin tablets and for a long time swift would dream only waking long enough to fill a tablet with the memories of his dream and file it away in some recess of the library.

Though swift could not control his dreams or what he remembered after them he was intent to find ways to bring him closer to his children, to connect them to him, But he did not only wish to stop here he wanted to learn how to further refine the art of creating life so that he could more effectively create brothers and sisters of all kinds for his children, He knew that the time was fast approaching that he would need to remove his protective wing from the kobolds for soon they would desire to explore the worlds. He knew there thirst for knowledge was indead great and they would not be satisfied by just the discoveries within the protection of the shimmering plane.

So again and again swift slept only to wake and fill more tablets he would do this for many many moons in his search for some bit of lost knowledge.


1PP reserved for Fashion Domain - Draconic
0PP remaining

An' ye harm none, do what ye will
Balist reappeared outside the palace. Watching people go, he let go of his weave. Looking around, all he saw was barrenness. He'll have to do something about that later..... But first he must find his brother! Skipping along the land as best as an old man can, in a barren land, he came across some ancients first. Puzzled by them, he stopped to watch them. Their day-to-day and everything. A curious bunch, content yet, not really anything. It was there he stopped and there he stayed watching the curious creatures. He'll have to ask father about them later.


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I am both selfish and chaotic. I value self-gratification and control; I want to have things my way, preferably now. At best, I'm entertaining and surprising; at worst, I'm hedonistic and violent.

-Hall of the King of Gods-

Kol'Gar frowned in confusion as Altair and the new god conversed. He could not see what made this mysterious deity so amusing, and he strained to find whatever it was that had filled Altair with so much mirth. Happiness was the feeling one got from fufilling a superior's orders to the letter in the most expedient and efficient fashion possible, was it not? Then it dawned on him that as the King of Gods, Altair would have no superior. Perhaps the tragedy of being placed in such a situation had unhinged him enough to find entertainment value in the eccentric newcomer. He stood at attention until Altair left with an expression on his face easily mistaken for disapproval, although in truth it was something more akin to boredom.

"I believe that in all the excitement your name has yet to be mentioned." Kol'Gar said to Jyzemurd in an even more monotone voice than usual after Altair had taken his leave.

-Formain Hive-
The formians had begun to expand, sending drones with the larval queens to establish new hives in all directions. In time the ones that prosper would grow in to neighboring tribes that could be traded with, learned from, and possibly fight with. Meanwhile, a strange spectral interloper had appeared in on of the entrances to the maze-like tunnels that made up the subterrainian portion of the hive-tribe. It scared the worker caste, and they refused to use that entrance, so eventually a brave warrior caste named Skyr!th came to investigate what had gotten the lesser caste so worked up.

"Greetings, metal-skin." She said to the interloper. "I have been tasked to inquire about your business with our hive."
~Formian Hive~

The automaton shifted, clearly acknowledging Skyr!th's presence.  A strange, unintelligible string of sounds, clanks and whirs with the ocassional whine of spectral steam came from the ghost.  It was clearly speech, but the Formian could not understand it.

The automaton waited, then spoke again, the same words... or so it seemed.   Finally, clearly agitated, it pointed south, towards the wall of the tunnel.    
Mortals, having been created by the gods, are prone to overlooking their flaws, and exaggerating their virtues and talents (at least, in the case of the gods they worship. Strangely, they have no such compunctions when it comes to other gods, whose agendas do not align with those of the lesser creatures). Perhaps the most common mistaken assumption is thinking that the gods are infallible, omnipotent, and omnipresent. Nothing could be farther from the truth, in point of fact: history is littered with the aftermaths of rash decisions and impulsive applications of godly might. While Izuru busied himself creating the tree that would allow life to expand further through Sericea, he employed a spectacular amount of energy, as gods are won't to do. So spectacular as to be overkill, even, and what was worse, he put so much of himself into his work, that the unspent energy...reacted. It gathered at a single point, infinitely dense and yet infinitely tiny also. Then, it expanded outward, once, like the sudden thump of a heart's first beat. The energy's first sentient act had been to create a vessel capable of containing it, and now it begun to develop. Like the god it had come from, the energy crafted a cloak to shield itself from harm, in its case, spilling into nothingness again. A portion of it spilled downward, like a cascade, then froze as if the most vicious of winters had caught it by surprise, some streams dangling in mid-air, most reaching down to the ground, all of them blackening as they came into contact with more solid matter.

The energy's next attempt was more precise and controlled. To the blackened, cracked, yet flexible husk it had already created, it appended a much more complete frame, which managed to survive its first brush with reality almost unblemished, its pearly white skin (because a color that was the opposite number to the husk's black would send corporeal reality a very clear message, yes it would) darkening very, very slightly, to a still bright silvery color. Satisfied, the energy dove into the body it had created for itself, eager to find shelter from reality's touch in the form of corporeal existence. So eagerly, even, that some of it pierced through the body, forcing the rest of the energy to create a last-minute addition to the body around the excess energy, the shell cracking much like the first husk had, into hundreds of thousands of tiny little black spikes. A pity, but alas, such was the way of the physical world.


The entity (for now that it had a body, calling it energy would have been rather strange) basked in the new sensations of having a body, delighted to feel the air pressing around her (for she had decided that its identity as a formless, genderless being was already a thing of the past) without having to struggle to keep herself together. Given her origins, perhaps it was no surprise that she was brimming with excitement and curiosity about the form she had adopted, and devoted the first few instants of her life to inspecting it. Her hair, wild and overlong, obscured her from sight like a tent, while also blocking her view of the surprised Izuru. She ignored the light and sounds that passed through the strands of hair for the moment, simply taking her time to run her fingers over them. In spite of their flawed construction, they were soft, pleasant, and supple, and the body they were tied to was perfectly responsive to her whims. Her immediate curiosity for her new body sated, she turned her attention...outward. Brushing the hair in front of her away with her hands, she peeked out at Izuru without fear, and tilted her head to the side slightly. Her eyes, colored a gold bright enough to seem molten metal, remained focused on him, wondering what that creature could possibly be.
Mountain Cleave Rule: You can have any sort of fun, including broken, silly fun, so long as I get to have that fun too (e. g., if you can warp reality with your spells, I can cleave mountains with my blade).
Jyezmurd stood in the Hall a while, mulling over party plans in his head, before he realized he had been spoken to. "Hm?" he asked, returning to reality and looking towards the god who had spoken, then continued, "Ah, right. The name's Jyezmurd, but my friends call me the Reveler." As he spoke he extended his hand towards the being and continued, "You're... Kol'Gar, right? The Captain?"
Eago, of course, heard and appeared, as always.

"Why, my dear master, it appears to be a city."

It occured to Altair at this moment that, if Eago had had lips, the corners may have been twitching. Or, at least, his eyes might have been twinkling.

As it was, however, Eago was as conveniently, graciously, and irritatingly still, silent and respectful. The growing problem with Eago, it seemed, was that he truly did seem like the perfect servant. Too perfect, too silent, too respectful. It wasn't in a menacing, sinister way, but, it seemed, in a totally inhuman way. But, perhaps that was yet another service Eago provided. It was, after all, far easier to order around a machine that a man. Still, it was getting increasingly difficult to place the impassive Chancellor on that sliding scale of humanity.

"Maybe we should put things in it?"

A gust of wind shot from the Northwest with startling abruptness. It whirled and spun through the intervening space and whipped through the spires of the empty city and down into the valley in which it lay.

The two were aware of a ticking noise. It seemed, it had always been there, lurking at the edge of hearing, like a heart-beat, or the creaking of the bones. The city itself was ticking, a steadily rising crescendo.

Rows and rows of beings were sliding out of the city proper. They flowed like streams of water down the streets and alleyways, matching the strength and determination of the unstoppable waves but with a speed and precision that water could only envy at. Their bodies shone and gleamed like the city itself, and they moved in rows precise and logical. The chrome bodies of the beings were man-shaped, with a barrel-like torso and cylindrical head. Countless whirring gizmos and spouts and vents and gyroscopes covered the beings that spun along on single, large wheels. Their arms were overlong, able to reach the axle down on their wheels.

But that was not the most remarkable part of the beings. In the centre of the massive city, there was a clock-tower. It was easily the tallest structure around. It was fat, too, but that was far eclipsed by its height. And as the vast, sparkling surface of the clock counted the minutes with chrome hands the length of a house, something strange seemed to happen. It was as though every tick of the giant clock held meaning for the beings. No matter where they were in the vast city, each tick meant they had to be going somewhere, doing something specific. It was as though each of the strange clockwork beings had an inner schedule that synced up with the clock.

The two gods watched as, precisely at 8:15, the beings rolled down their streets from their residences into their respective locations for work. Then, at 10:30, they all rotated. And at 12:45 on the dot, they all rolled out of their respective buildings, and the gods were witness to the peculiar "breaks" of these beings, during which they stood out in the sun, in the most open areas they could find, allowing the winds that always gusted through the city at this precise time to blow past them. Then, 30 minutes later, at 1:15, they all rolled back into their buildings, and worked until 3:30, at which moment, they rotated again. At 5:45, just as the sun was dipping low in the sky, eahc and every one of the many beings rolled into the massive town squares situated around town for evening maintenance. Each and every one of them was inspected head to wheel, and since each city square had n unobstructed view of the clock-tower, they all simulataneously recalibrated their internetal clocks to ensure it matched the clock-tower properly. This whole process took exactly 45 minutes, without fail. Then, all the beings rolled back to the various buildings and performed maintenance upon all of them. They cleaned all the buildings, reset all the various mechanisms, and ensured that all of the buildings were in tip-top shape. This took decidedly longer, and in fact took about all night, until about 7:30 in the morning (stopping for another 30 minute break at precisely 12:45), at which time they all set to work for morning inspection and preparing themselves for another day of work.

"Quite fascinating, don't you think?"

2 PP Stored +1 From the Allsoul - Shape - The Constantinians - Known colloquially as the 'Tinians, this race of mechanical drones are hardwired with a precisely coded schedule that runs in sequence with the massive clock-tower in the centre of their city. As more tasks present themselves to the race, they can adjust their inner schedules during their inspections to allow for the change in proceedure. Then Tinian must then follow the new schedule to the letter. They have overlong arms and run on wheels, although those can be switched to more appropriate methods of transportation. They are also somewhat shorter than an average person, standing unilaterally at 4'3'' on treads, 4'3'' on wheels and 4'7'' on legs.
Looking at her for a long moment, he shrugged and offered his hand. "Greetings and welcome. Might I have the pleasure of being first to learn your name?"

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71235715 wrote:
Altair's eyes darted over to Eago at the latter's droll reply.

"Why, Eago.  That was almost a joke.  Wonders never cease.  Your Throne works marvelously, by the way.  I'm slightly more curious about where this thing came from.  It doesn't look li-"

He would have said more, but the Constantinians appeared and Altair found himself distracted by their clockwork-precise motions.  He and Eago watched in silence for several days, noting the absolute precision of their actions.   

Finally, Altair had had enough.  

"I must see what lies within these buildings.  Are these the servants or the masters?"

Down he floated, and into one of the buildings just next to the clocktower, an impressively large building with panes of reflective glass for walls.  Within, he found rows and rows of the Constantinians, sweeping up and down each hallway, cleaning each room.  Curious, he followed one around a corner and followed it as it spiraled up the building to the top floor, finally culminating in a large room with seven doors leading off of it.  Choosing at random, Altair pushed open the third door from the left...

And everything went black. 
To the entity, Izuru's words were gibberish. What concept, what need for names and words did pure energy have? But still...she felt drawn to the figure, for some reason. Something within her recognized him, the god responsible for her existence. Words or no, she knew that there was a bond between them, even if she was unable to comprehend it just yet. She took his hand and clutched it tightly, and unbeknownst to her, a smile formed on her face as she did so, as a reaction to the elder god's familiar touch. It was an ephemeral thing, naïve, happy and sincere, the quintessential child's smile.
Mountain Cleave Rule: You can have any sort of fun, including broken, silly fun, so long as I get to have that fun too (e. g., if you can warp reality with your spells, I can cleave mountains with my blade).

-Hall of the King of Gods-

"I suppose I technically am 'The Captain'" Kol'Gar said with a shrug. "I prefer the honorific 'Harbinger of Order'. I ensure that the will of Altair, King of Gods is enforced, and that Order is maintained. I must admit that can see little appeal to this 'revelry' that you speak of. Why would I engage in such activities rather than perform my duties as... 'The Captain'? It seems inefficient."

-Formain Hive-

Skyr!th strained to puzzle out what the spectral machine was trying to communicate. Whatever it was, she concluded, it was located southward. So she gathered a dozen of the bravest workers she knew, ones who were inspired enough with her presence to not become agitated around the strange interloper. Skyr!th knew that a particularly clever worker named Dsa'Thon had a track record of making tunnels quickly and safely, and appointed her as the foreman. Together the thirteen of them worked to tunnel southward in the direction indicated by the strange phantom.

Feeling undeniably awkward, his mind flew back to other recent memories as he thought for a moment. "A quiet one, eh? Well, if you don't have a name for yourself and I can't just keep refering to you as you, I'll have to come up with something. How does Zel Sens sound? Seems appropriate to me. Thoughts?"

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71235715 wrote:
Though her creator's words were still gibberish to her, Zeal Sens instinctively understood that she was being asked a question by his tone. He had emphasized those two words, for reasons she could not comprehend just yet. They had such a nice ring to them...she played with them in her head for a moment, their sound like the tinkle of bells to her newborn mind, before snapping back to reality. Remembering that she had been asked something, Zeal nodded, looking very, very serious, and hoped she had done what his creator expected of her.
Mountain Cleave Rule: You can have any sort of fun, including broken, silly fun, so long as I get to have that fun too (e. g., if you can warp reality with your spells, I can cleave mountains with my blade).
He watched her nod, and considered what to do next. "Well then, what do we do now? Are you going to follow me about? I have some where to go. Some one to see, honestly."

He turned, and a small grin crossed his face. "Yes, actually, you should come with me. That could work quite well. I'm off to see some one I know. And I'm betting that I know an excellent way to get their attention."

Moving on, he headed for his goal, moving to the Allsoul. This, for certain, had to have been his work. Reaching out to touch it, he sent a small shock through it, stopping it's function for a split second. Certainly not enough to cause harm, but definitly enough to garner the attention of anyone who might care. 

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71235715 wrote:
The Formians and the Ghost moved south at a decent pace, the ghost every once in a while pointing in a slightly different direction to guide them.  Soon, with a metallic ping, the workers hit something, and with a little bit of effort, pulled out a long silver-colored cylinder.

The Ghost became excited, pointing and shifting from tread to tread and uttering unintelligible phrases.   A long seam lay along one end of the cylinder, and hinges were on the other end.  It was clearly meant to be opened.... the only question was whether or not the Formians would be obliging.

~Somewhere Near Constantine"

Chisel there.


I need gems.

Where is the opaline?


Seeing her creator walk away, Zeal Sens set after him, enormously curious about what had caught his attention. She rolled her hair back, stood up, took a step forward...

...And clumsily fell forward as she lost her balance due to the tail swooshing with her step. She let out a surprised yelp, and rolled over until she ended face-up. The fall hadn't hurt (a simple trip couldn't damage the shell the energy within her had created), but the sudden movement of air behind her had caught her offguard. Hesitantly, she stood up and took a step forward again, this time careful to keep the tail's movement in mind. She wobbled a little, but did not fall. Satisfied, Zeal smiled, and behind her her tail swiveled back and forth. She was still new to dealing with the limitations of a body, but she was quickly learning. With an odd mix between a skip and a step, she set out to follow Izuru's trail.
Mountain Cleave Rule: You can have any sort of fun, including broken, silly fun, so long as I get to have that fun too (e. g., if you can warp reality with your spells, I can cleave mountains with my blade).
-Formain Tunneling Party-

Skyr!th and the workers stood in awe of the strange cylindrical object. The workers formed a semicircle behind the soldier and backed off slowly and nervously. Before they could move back more than a couple of paces, however, Skyr!th pieced together what a hinge might be used for, and threw the lid wide open.

*****in the great library****

Swift again and again dreamt only to wake long enough to right the memories of the fading dream upon yet another tablet, he had filled shelves upon shelves of these tablets and they now littered the room yet still he had not remembered the bit of information he was forgetting and needing.

Truly swift had no idea he had even ever know so much information to forget it had seamed like his connection to knowledge might be much stronger then he realized, perhaps the domain of power was more then a handy tool but again he would explore those thought later so again and again he dreamt the shelves floors and indeed even the hallways slowly filled with tablets of information scrolled upon them.

Swift would find a better way to store the info when he finished his task at hand for now he dared not break his dream cycles till he could recall the information he needed.

An' ye harm none, do what ye will

Vion lounged on his seat, watching Vasa interrogate the mass of souls that had lined up. Occasionally he'd interject a question, but for the most part she was the one who cut to the heart of the matter. Unfortunately, it seemed, that the hall was starting to fill up. That hadn't properly considered what to do with the souls for all eternity; that might be something to address in the near future.

It took quite some time for the Black Lord to notice that would-be spirits had stopped descending from above. There was a good number of them milling about the entrace, waiting to make it into the world, but there really should be more. He looked up across the impossible distance and wondered what was going on. The plane opened the portal through which new souls entered a little wider, so that he could try to see what was going on.

~Edge of The Woods~

Isam looked up at the branches above him as he lay on the cool grass. The head of Miku, his mate, rested on his chest, her hair tickling his nose. It smelled good. Though finding food and water were consuming tasks, he felt that life was good. His left hand  found its way to her belly, beneath which he could feel the movements of their soon-to-be child. This was a content moment, he told himself. He needed to put the worry over Miku's coming labor out of his mind, so that he could cherish this moment. If it would a tough labor and death called to her, then he would be glad for memories of times like these. There had been many easy labors, lately, and many strong young ones. Despite his struggle for calm, he hoped that the trend would continue.


1 PP (from AllSoul) - Nourish: Ancients. They increase in population due to women surviving labor more often, and the children that are born being strong.
South of the Formian Hive~

The lid fell off and a cloud of purplish miasma burst forth, covering the Formians within moments.  The fog crept along the exoskeletons of the Formians, seeping into the joints of the insectoids and liquifying their insides.  The pain was excruciating, but after what seemed like a month, but was actually about half an hour,, the pain diminished and mostly disappeared.  Where it didn't disappear was in the neck and face of the Formians, where Something subtly pushed out the carapace and stretched tubes up to new, sharp protrubances in the mouth.  Within the new glands, purple miasma roiled, ready to repeat the process.  The horrified "Formians" stared into the capsule to see a wrinkled leathery object that, upon further observation, they realized was the dessicated skin of some sort of humanoid.  Scoring down the capsule lid revealed where sharp teeth had struck repeatedly over and over and over again in an attempt to get out.  Now, those teeth lay among the skin.

Staggering back, Skyr!th stared at the Ghostly Automaton... but there was nothing there.  The Formians quickly conferred and resolved not to reveal what had happened to anyone, burying the capsule by collapsing the tunnel and putting up signs directing people away from the area.  As they worked, they realized that they were... leaking.

~Near Constantine~

Chisel.  Chisel.  Hammer.  Hammer.  Chisel.  Done.

 blinked, and the godly hammer and chisel fell from his hands and vanished into nothingness as he reached out, gripping stone for balance.  He felt his mind return to him as something flashed across his eyes and he felt something impossibly warm flow down his arm and into the stbackwards, godly hammer and chisel falling from his hands and vanishing into nothingness as his mind returned to him.  He briefly saw something flash across his eyes and felt something warm flow down his hand  and melt into the stone.

He floated backwards and looked at what he had made without knowing it.

It was a statue, thirty feet tall, of a solidly built man.  A short stone beard studded with rubies, garnets and jaspers lending a reddish tint to it as well as the impressive mane of hair that almost seemed to ripple in the waning light, its eyes were large Sapphires, its Teeth white opals and Ivory, its moustashe menaced with spikes of granite and red-streaked marble.

It was exquisitly crafted.   Altair had never seen its equal, even in the Potentiality.

And... it was moving.  From the spot where his hand had touched, the stone cloak and tunic began to ripple and the stone skin began to turn supple.

Shocked, and, if he was honest, still somewhat dazed and confused, Altair waited to see what would happen next.


2 PP:  Alter Race:  The Fomorians who find the capsule become the first Vampires.  These Vampires operate a little differently than others... For one, the actual 'vampirism' is a venom/acid that is produced within glands in Vampire necks and feeds through their 'standard' sharp canines/canine-analogues.  This venom is inert when exposed to air, but within a host propogates rapidly, liquifying the tissues and bones of the organism while leaving the outer skin, as well as the  upper esophogous and lungs and mouth intact.  The only additions the venom adds are the venom sacs and tubing.

The amount of liquid is sufficient to maintain a normal appearance, assuming liquid levels remain constant.  All Vampires lose liquid slowly.  Carapaced vampires like the Fomorians lose small amounts through the joints near their feet, while soft-skinned creatures lose it naturally through sweat, as well as simply over time.  

Vampires feed by creating new Vampires and physically drinking the liquified essence until they are themselves refilled.  Oftentimes, this ends up killing the new Vampire, particularly if significant amounts of liquid were required, as initial pressure is important for the proper replacement of the brain, which is the last organ to go and only can be properly transfered ot the conciousness of the now-undead if the pressure is high enough.  

Over time, Vampries begin to dessicate and deflate.  This affects skin and carapace alike, and should be quickly noticeable if not dealt with quickly.   These Vampires, unlike more 'traditional' Vampires, are significantly easier to kill, for although their skin gains natural armor bonuses and they gain dexterity, speed and strength from their conversion, they are, in essence, walking water balloons.   

2 PP:  Ascend God:  Kassor.   Altair finds a spark of true Creativity within Constantine and it posesses him to create a statue, which the spark animates with the power of a God.

~Near Constantine~

Onyx eyes blinked, once, twice. In a surprising display of motility, the statue began to move its limbs, stone creaking stiffly. It turned, watching Altaïr for a few moments before raising its arms to its face, apparently deep in thought. 

It returned its gaze to Altaïr, stone face nodding up and down at the god.

It spoke once; "Adequate."

It stood almost perfectly still, continuing to watch Altaïr.
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
Altair stared at the statue for a moment before his mouth would work.

"I... err... Forgive me.  I appear to have lost myself for a moment.  Who are you?" 
The statue appeared to ponder this question for several long moments.

"Kassor." It eventually responded, with an air of finality that seemed to indicate it had explained everything in an entirely satisfactory matter.

The statue seemed to take stock of the room, noting the prevalence of tools of artifacture and design. It's stony fists clenched and unclenched, in etiher nervousness, idleness, or anticipation -- it was hard to determine which.

The being self-identified as Kassor slowly creaked around the room, peering at Altaïr from all angles. He nodded again, once, directly at Altaïr before he turned outwards, towards the center of the room, and the pedastal upon which Altaïr had, moments ago, been laboring. In an instant - Altaïr missed exactly when, or how - a massive block of clay appeared. Kassor began to circle this sudden apparition, continuing to nod and humming to himself as he went.

Again, Altaïr was stricken with a sense of movement and expended energy, as if the massive clay block was both simultaneously being both apparated and disintegrated, but at a rate so fast that he could barely sense it, and to no apparent effect, either -- to his eyes, anyway, Altaïr saw nothing about the clay block change, and yet, there was this nagging feeling of... well, the other god supposed it must have been velocity.

"Chisel." The statue that was Kassor held out its left hand towards Altaïr in the same instant that the energy in the room peaked -- and then vanished. "Hammer." When Altaïr did not immediately respond, Kassor proffered his hand at the Light God again, a tremor of irritation rising in the timbre of the statue's voice. "Tools. Give.", this time turning fully to face the elder god. "Please."

PP Expenditure

-0 PP Cantrip - Kassor creates a rectangular block of clay. Rather than altering the clay to suit his needs, Kassor obliterates and recreates the entire block each time he judges the matter unfavorably. Working by parts, and with hundreds of iterations per second, Kassor eventually arrives at his ideal iteration, conceived with perfect levels of impurities, textures, molecular structure, pH, salinity, saturation, hue, granularity, and dozens of other physical properties.

If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
 I was carving you from a mountaintop, but... yeah, this works too

Altair frowned again.  Chisel?  Hammer?    Very well.

Altair concentrated for the span of a second and a large hammer and chisel appeared in his hands, which he handed to Kassor. 
Kassor nodded once, at Altaïr, gratefully taking the tools in hand. He stared at his block of clay for several more moments, gathering both energy and resolve. The chisel alighted upon the edge of the clay, barely kissing the surface of the object. Kassor held the chisel there for several more moments.

Finally, in a move that seemed ponderously slow, the statue-god brought the hammer above his head. Like an arrow from a bowstring, his mighty stone fist came barreling down from above, striking the chisel soundly, shaking everything, and causing small stones and pebbles to hop and skip about like restless children.

Kassor removed the chisel, and returned to facing Altaïr. He patted his chest. "Kassor." He said. "Make things." As if his words had been some unbidden command, the clay block behind him visibly shuddered, and suddenly exploded in a shower of clay fragments and shavings. When the dust cleared, a single, perfect, statue stood where the clay block had been.

The work of art had taken but a single strike.

PP Expenditure

 -3 PP Forge Exarch - The Forge Maiden. Currently only a perfect clay statue that is... well, a statue.
 -3 PP stored towards Forge Artifact action.
 -1 PP stored towards mold action
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.
Sensing at much as spotting the opening below him, Izuru glanced at his companion. "Well then, looks like an invitation to me. Shall we crash the party?" Without waiting for a response, he dropped like a stone, plunging through the open gateway into the plane below.

Landing hard on the ground within, his arrival sent the milling spirits into a whirling shroud of mist about him. "Good evening." he offered to his new hosts."

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71235715 wrote:
"As you can see, I've connected each of the Constantinians to the Allsoul. They are not merely machines, you see, they are more that mere tools. They have a purpose, a driving goal to improve, they strive for altruism, and for perfection in their work. They have souls! Don't you see? Isn't that truly remarkable? They are beings of metal, but they have souls! And as you can see they are quite practical. See those lines of them leading out to the hills? See how they dig into the earth? They mine it for minerals, metals, the like. And then they bring it back to the city and make it into tools, they are quite good at making practical things like that. Or for expanding their infrastructure. They are quite skilled metal-workers. Do you see how they shape the metal so expertly? Do you? Altair?"

At this point Eago stopped in his ramblings. He had stopped for quite a good reason in fact. It seemed as though the person to whom he had been rambling was no longer there to be rambled to. And so, turning his head to and fro to spot his departed master, he set off once more.

1 PP Command - The Constantinians learn the process of mining and set up numerous mines about their city.

1 PP Command - The Constantinians develop metal-working.

2 PP Nourish - The Constantinians thrive and prosper in their city thanks to their efforts.
For a moment, Zeal stood on the edge of the hole, curious about where it led to. Something told her she should have heard her creator land at some point, but that had proven not to be the case. Gathering her courage, she took a step back, then forward, and jumped, stretching her arms and legs wide as she floated down lazily to the ground, like a kite carried by the wind. Once she landed, she looked at her creator, then around, curious about who he was addressing.
Mountain Cleave Rule: You can have any sort of fun, including broken, silly fun, so long as I get to have that fun too (e. g., if you can warp reality with your spells, I can cleave mountains with my blade).
Altair was amazed by the sculpture.

"How did you... that was one stroke!"  He said, floating closer to examine the statue in more detail.  It truly was perfect in every way... as if the statue had been waiting intact inside a shell of stone to be released.

He saw Eago float by, and shouted out to him, drawing his attention to where Altair and Kassor stood.

"Eago, forgive me.  I went exploring... and then I can't really remember what happened... but I appear to have made a God with my bare hands... and he has made this very, very nice statue.  

Kassor,  I am Altair, and that is Eago.  You make very, very good things."
"Yes." said Kassor, smiling.

He patted Altaïr's hands. "Thanks. Needed to use." the stone god then clapped Altaïr on the shoulder,  sending a thunderclap echoing across the sky. "Will repay."

 Satisfied, Kassor slowly turned, hefting the statue onto one burly shoulder, exceedingly careful to not deform any part of the clay surface. He turned and held his free hand above his eyes, shading them from the glare of the Sun as he peered across the mountaintop, looking for... something.
If you look past the plot and the voice acting, Metroid: Other M was an okay game. Not a great game, but an adequate one. Not using the Metroid item collect jingle though? That, was a mistake.

Neither Twin expected a thin to fall from the sky, let alone two. They sat on their thrones for a moment in silence. The souls and spirits in the place backed away, forming a circle of spectators in the great cavern. At last, Vasa broke the silence, leaning forward.

"Good evening to you" she said to the first figure, "and you," she said to the second. "Who are you and what brings you to our realm?"

Vion frowned slightly. That first one looked almost familiar, but he wasn't sure from where, or if it was a figment of his imagination.
Zeal was very young, but she was quick enough on the uptake to realize she'd been through this before. Stepping forward, she offered her hand to the people on the thrones, a very serious look on her face. She felt uncomfortable in their presence. One of them was too bright, and the other one was too dark...the contrast was overwhelming for one who had only experienced the soft darkness of Izuru's forest. She couldn't look away, however, so she squinted and waited.
Mountain Cleave Rule: You can have any sort of fun, including broken, silly fun, so long as I get to have that fun too (e. g., if you can warp reality with your spells, I can cleave mountains with my blade).
He offered a wry grin and a sweeping bow that sent the swirling spirits flying away. "I am simply a child, brought forth at a poor time and overburdened in my first moments."

Rising to his feet, he placed a hand on Zeal's shoulder, "Any my companion here would be another child, brought forth by happenstance. I know little more about her then that."

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71235715 wrote:
"Indeed," Vasa said, eyes both of them anew, trying to weigh their worth in her mind. "Welcome to Sha'a, our realm. But again I ask, who are you and what brings you to this place?"

The White Lady was accustomed to her brother's more subtle and deferential ways, but for herself, she preferred bluntness.