Rimus's Story

Tick,Tock/ Rimus was in his realm, minding his realm's business whilst enjoying his realm's company. It was a empty shell of a realm, but he enjoyed it. It was the one spot where he could not be the divine god of time, but a simple fellow man relaxing. Of course, he had no proper time to be relaxing he was always on the watch. For someone who had perhaps defied the laws of time and he had to go lay down the enforcement or something that's stopping the flow of time like a wrench stuck inside a pipe of time. It was as if he was a dolphin, one part of his brain was relaxing whilst the other was constantly at work. Not that he had a brain, or perhaps he did he's never really dabbled too much in the creation of the god's and their physical property's. Maybe he could give himself one, but it'd be quite useless. No, he was being distracted it was time to get back on track, back on time.

After some hours, or perhaps year's in his realm, he managed to push himself up. What Rimus enjoyed was the finer foods, not that he needed to eat but he liked the taste of food. He liked the taste of something. Rimus began to change his form into that of the lush primrose dragon, as his limbs began to crunch and spread out and his armor had instead turned into a nice shade of pink. He was planning to travel to the world of man, which is why he had opened the wormhole their but instead of landing on nice soft soil he had instead found himself on Marble. Godly Marble.

Ah, yes this was the land of the gods a place he was o so familiar with. His body must've made it's own decision into coming here, and his body had also transformed him in between the wormhole. A complete mind of it's own. Up ahead of him he saw 2 other god's, one very lightly coloured, one not so coloured. Rimus decided to waste little time and immediately started walking to the council's center. He had very little idea what it was about but judging the way he came here it was important. Or so he assumed.

Eden sets the table with utmost effeciency with each following the other in rows like ants on the march, delicacies both human and godly in origin placed about down the center, from basted turkey to ambrosia and nectar. It was quite impressive, especially from mouthless chefs. The elaborate banquet also implied something else, urgency, it was nothing as simple as some update report on their domains.

With his usual poise Hazarmaveth greets the gods that enter with a courteous bow. He tried not to allow his nervousness show, which is quite easy for one with his unique qualities. The tension between Shale and Edna did not help matters in that regard, and could only worsen considering the topic concerns them rather specifically, almost chillingly. Argument was unavoidable in these matters, but he hopes it to remain civil. With this accepted, he extends a long thin arm with long fingers out from the abyss of his cloak to courteously direct them to the table.

"It is good to see you all still doing so well, and apologies for being so abrupt in my timing," he says with sincerity, voice soft yet reverberating within the hollows of his body. He felt like a bother despite the importance of his concerns. "How has your garden been, dear Edna? And you, sir Rimus, I hope you find the selection to satisfaction. Sir Shale, I hope I have not interrupted anything important, I know your work is precious to you... but I think you of all would find this matter important. You as well, Edna. Xyr and Creep are not attending again, I see... a pity. I will have to inform them by other means. I do not see Ai either."

His was in no mood to beat around the bush, upon finishing their duties he sent the Edens to the corners and paced around the table with his staff in hand, amusingly resembling an old man with a crutch.

"The Black Ichor's nature has shifted from what I had once assumed was a benign, albeit... tragic result of... of dear Abaranne's current state," he says somberly, stumbling some at the mention of his fellow primordial, he had never been able to let it go even after all these years. "It is growing, spreading across the Ertse'gart as we speak, growing and changing. I've received reports that it brings life from death, taking any animal that falls in its domain and reviving it as something else. Life that is stronger, expires less easily, but cannot beget new life. At first I thought this was but a coincidental interaction with the Black Ichor, and I hoped it was some unconscious power from... her... but its patterns grew more elaborate, organized, until finally I received word that it... no, she has a name, Bashemath, a primordial name meaning the confusement of death. It is not too subtle to whom this name is addressing."

Hazarmaveth seats himself at one end of the table, his tone had grown somewhat more somber as he went on, somber but more so perplexed. He was reasonably confused in this matter, fittingly enough. His face downcast, he could not make a call, it was not in him to just condemn a new life to death, let alone make that decision about anything. Part of him even considers it a piece of Abaranne herself, reopening an old wound further. He holds out a hand, the aether warping about in his palm, then flowing across the table, weaving into an image above the center. An image of

"Regardless of her primordial nature, regardless of having similar immunities, she is not the same as me, as us, but not mortal either, but she is still bound to the land," he continues after a brief pause. "For now she's only had a small fraction of Abaranne's power, but if she were to... assimilate her fully, she may as well be a full Rishon, a primordial god with her own agenda. I don't think I need to remind any of you of what happened last time a primordial god had one of those... I still wonder to this day if there was anything I could have done to change my brother's path. As usual, I leave this to all of you to decide amongst yourselves what course of action is most appropriate."

He had not spoken in length like this in ages, it felt more than a little awkward to him, being in the center stage had never felt right to him. He beckons courteously with his, what could be assumed to be, right hand for them to speak.

As Enda walked up the stairs, she would look behind her when she heard more footsteps walk on the stairs. To her displeasure, she saw Shale, a God of Sickness and Possesion. He is also one who stops 'overpopulation'. The other figure was Rimus, the God Of Time. She had nothing against him of course, he was just a God of time. She kept her smile however and waved to the two deities behind her, even though Shale represented death she could not just hate him outright.

As Edna entered the council room, Hazarmaveth greeted them with a bow. She is return gave a curtsy. "Thank you for asking Hazarmaveth, the garden has been doing well this past year. All the plants are nearly in full bloom, and that means I may get some noisy night when all the insects gather on the flowers to enjoy the smell and gather pollen and sweets. But thank you for asking anyways, I do hope you have been doing fine this past year as well." She replied before heading over to the table and taking an empty seat.

Hazarmaveth soon went on about the black ichor spreading through the lands, even though it took life it made life. Edna was not sure about the matter about the ichor, it was like it just touched something and then transformed them into something else like some sort of forced evolution. Some part of her disliked it, some part of her accepted it, she was that confused about it. Although that was the least of her worries, Hazarmaveth soon addressed Bashemath as the topic, about how she only has a fraction of her power but she could regain her power fully. A course of action must be decided about this matter, and she was not uite sure how to respond.

"Well...if Bashemath were to regain her power there are many events that could take place. As we are well aware, the last primordial god has left a rather devastating path of destruction however we do not know if Bashemath plans to do the same. I say we only keep on eye on things, if something seems out of the ordinary we interfere but other than that we do not know her intentions. For good or bad, we just have to find out so I propose we find some clues on what her plans are and not resort to anything rash." Edna spoke her mind about the subject.

-Animus-
-Yang-

Hundun eased into the room, quiet and unassuming. It had masucline features and when the others looked at it they would feel a lightness about Hundun today. Clearly it had shifted toward its Animus and Yang stages. It made its way towards the table, but it did not sit, it simply stood and listened.

Primordial. The word perked Hundun's attention, unlike many gods Hundun's existence was primordial, or the stuff that it was made of was primordial, though it's sentience had only come about at the beginning of the third age when other gods were formed. So Hundun was not a primordial god in the strictest sense, but it arguably had a stronger tie to the primordial age than others.

Now, it seemed, there was another. Born of the Black Ichor, the manifestation of grief, not unlike Hundun had been born out of the manifestation of the chaos and tension between the siblings.

"Evolution." Hundun whispered softly, answering the rhetorical question of Bashemath's plans. "She will want to evolve, to grow. She is born of grief, grief given thought." it turned it's gaze toward Hazarmaveth, "Grief can lead to blame. Blame to hate. Hate to vengeance." the implication was clear. "Be wary Hazarmaveth. Even you can not know what path her grief will take." it was clear he was not speaking of Bashemath.

With that Hundun sat.

A small dark form stared down at the council of gods, watching and listening to the deities below. A single raven roosted up above on anything it could find. This raven was an aspect of Xyr watching the meeting for any interestig tidbits. The information on Bashemath was interesting at least, as well as the other gods opinions on it.

With its work done, the raven flaps its wings and soars away from the council leaving a single feather behind. Its form turned to ashes and it became one with the aether to disappear and return to Xyr.

Hazarmath was not short on surprise to hear Shale to agree with Edna, it been his impression that they were, by nature, at odds with one another. They were correct, aside from disheveling the natural order this growth has neither destroyed the nearby villages nor killed the residents. She has, however, caused some level of emotional trauma amidst the mortals living there.

"You both speak wisely, if we act rashly we'd only risk igniting the situation, plus in all technicality the actions do not indicate a malign intent," he admits, raising up his head. "No destruction has been wrought of it other than, perhaps, natural order. I do wonder what interaction such a thing will have once it spreads further... this deathless state of being... and what is carried over from Abaranne, and-"

Hundun, or at least the Animus aspect entered, had entered the room and apparently quite aware of the meeting. He listened quietly as they spoke upon the matters, and reflected worries that had twisted their way into the back of his mind already. Blame... did she blame him? He was as strong as Asriy'el but... he did nothing. What went through his head in those moments could not be sorted through even after ages of meditation. He lowered his head again, looking deep into his cup, tea, a mortal drink he had grown rather fond of. He spends time briefly, reliving that decisive moment but the reflection remains cloudy.

"That which is done out of love," he mutters softly to himself as he clears the shadows from his mind. "Hundun, you too speak wisely, the fact of being born of grief, a chaotic sentiment by nature, and the fact we do not know for certain, that she is growing at such a troubling rate at least raises a concern of caution. Perhaps..."

Hazarmaveth then had caught the presence of Xyr, he had a penchant for shadiness despite being a god of something so dramatic as tragedy. Regardless, it was no concern if he heard the meeting, it was one less message to deliver. Though worried bubbled into his mind if he would twist it into one of his tragedies. That would, however, come to no surprise, it just was such a burden to be damage control.

"Perhaps we should consider researching the situation more closely," he suggests waving his fingers about. "Abaranne loved her children more than anything else, if such lends itself to Bashemath, then she would be less likely offended by the presence of mortals. It would also be less conspicuous as well."

Edna was glad to hear Shale agree to her idea, although they did not get along too well it was nice to know the dislike between both of them did not get in the way of their decision. As the meeting went on, Hundun had entered the room. She did not greet him because they were still discussing things, but she did give him a gentle wave and smile.

Hazarmaveth proposed that if they were to research the situation more closely they would need mortals to do so as to not offend Bashemath and their presence would be less conspicuous. "With that being said, we would need to find some strong people for the task. I agree with the decision to ask the people for help however it would be in our best interest to ask our followers to do this task. There is a good chance that they will encounter life that is hostile to others, and they need more than words to win. I will ask Carissa and see if she wants to partake in this quest, she may be a sweet girl but I believe she is more than capable of doing this." Edna spoke nodding to herself. She never viewed mortals simply as mortals, they were still people just with a lifespan.

Scirce getting anywhere on time was at best wishful thinking. He did eventually wander near where he needed to be though he might not be a he by the time he actually arrived. This was one of those cases as Scire's quiet rambling came closer to the meeting with a scrape of white chalk. Scirce's mumbling voice and chalk drew a web of thoughts from idle educated daydreams about the darkness, "Eating and feeding and lurking and changing and building and watching and wailing and drowning and burning and yearning and suffering. All at the right angles to shadow. Hee. Whole heaping buckets of darkness. Right in the corner with the tar and feathers walking on its own."

Her right breast pressed out matching her other in the yellow robes as Scirce's face turned less ambiguous to a homely female. She wandered into the room bright eyed to say at Eden, "The bucket's coming for us all. Tarred and feathered. Do you need holes and hiding things for pieces to go in? I have lots of keys. All the hiding holes."

Scirce wasn't one for pleasantries as individuals didn't stay in her head long enough. She smiled at Hazarmaveth, "I think they'll try to do it without us, you know. I hear all the ponderous pondering. There will be red blood or there will be black blood. Both will be beautiful."

Scirce produced a teapot from her robes and started refilling Hundun's teacup absently. The smell of the warm tea from some sage's ardent mixing was pleasant. Though the teacup somehow didn't overfill neither did the pouring stop. She just eyed the cup with a wide smile.

Tir'Ish Na-Ahn
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Existence is a peculiar concept. Having become sentient before being formed, Tir'Ish Na-Ahn had the unique situation of becoming aware of the Creator exactly a moment before he was aware of Tir'Ish. Tir-Ish spawned due to leftover energies from both creation and destruction, and usually is in a mist form. Having little to do or create, Tir'Ish watched as the gods were born, worlds were restored, and mortals became prevalent.

Tir'Ish moved slowly through the Astral Sea. Going from stars to planets to abnormal phenomenons, all it cared to do was to watch and learn. It watched objectively as wars were fought, legends were forgotten, and elementals were spawned. Sadly, most elementals don't last more than a few minutes beyond creation. Slowly, over years, Tir'Ish learned how to keep them alive and would relay instructions via thoughts to these new creations. If followed, those instructions would allow the elemental to live and sustain itself in order to actually live. An air elemental couldn't figure it out in time, however, and was dissipating back into energies when Tir'Ish heard a sound being sent to the gods.

Most the gods were unaware of Tir'Ish. Only occasionally manifesting itself in a physical form, it preferred to stay distant. What point was there to interfere with Edna's garden or Creep's legion? It observed them occasionally, but didn't manifest itself other than helping to promote a sense of ordered energy. Directing sunlight, concentrating food sources such as sugars, and moving the wind were all small ways to help, but it never pushed itself to interfere. But now, when a meeting was called, Tir'Ish Na-Ahn decided to watch.

It showed up well beyond the beginning of the meeting. Staying far above the proceedings, and with the mist extremely transparent, Tir'Ish listened to learn what was purpose of the meeting. Though it didn't understand language, it did understand meaning. They could be speaking gibberish and Tir'Ish would comprehend what they were trying to say. With that, it was easy to pick up that the concern was about something they called Black Ichor. An interesting material, to say the least, as it gave organized energy the ability to become manifest as a sentient being. None have survived for more than a couple years as of yet, but it was a new type of challenge for Tir'Ish to learn about.

Curious, the god of energy remained to witness the proceedings, while not giving off enough of a signature to be detected by any but the most perceptive.

Hazarmaveth nods at Edna's words. "There has been one begging to prove her worthiness, despite my attempts to say that my worthiness was in question, she would be all too eager to go on this venture," he says this slightly wearily, a slight reluctance gnawing at him. He had never asked a mortal of anything, not that he felt them unworthy but rather it felt somewhat manipulative. Was a mortal to feel inclined to deny a request from a god, especially in fear they will be smitten? Still, in some slight consolidation, it wasn't her who's arm was twisted in this matter, and that Hazarmaveth found amusing. "She is a rather spirited beastkin by the name of Rey, strong but also uncharacteristically introspective as well."

Soon another enters the council, Scire, the eccentric god of will. First greeting Eden with what could be defined as ramblings by most perturbing Eden naught. Ever since their conception they have not been known much as... excellent conversationalist to begin with, they simply were Eden, the groundskeepers without any deeper rhyme or reason. Eden simply bows respectfully to Scire as they pass.

Perhaps of greater impact was upon Hazarmaveth who interpreted more than may have even been there in words. He also found something poetic in Scire's form of speech, and he did like poetry. Part of it, perhaps, seemed Scire was speaking of Xyr and perhaps Creep, it wasn't unlike them to act independent of the council, for their own different reasons. The other of red blood and black blood seemed to revolve around the Black Ichor and Bashemath. He could assume by this, if not too presumptuous, that Scire was already aware in some sense of the flow of events. He sipped his tea, a peculiar sight if there ever was one, holding the cup to his throat rather than his face where no mouth was present anyways.

"Greetings and good day to you as well, Scire, a rather aromatic blend you have today," he responds politely with a tone implying a smile, admiring the aroma of the tea.

He pauses for a moment, a being of primordial energy, he too could recognize the presence of another who had entered, acting as an observer. He was aware to some extent as he was aware of his own brothers. How peculiar, but he respected their intent to remain unseen. Instead he simply put an effort to project some sense of greeting to them and proceed with the meeting as normal.

"Will there be others then," he inquired regarding the scouting party.

"Hazarmaveth, why do you think your worthiness is in question? You give the dead a safe place to rest, you allow those souls that have lost their lives a peaceful afterlife. You have done some great things, so don't think hard on yourself. We all are worthy is our own special way." Enda spoke to Hazarmaveth despite the meeting, even though it was off topic she did not want a fellow deity questioning themselves.

Of course another deity soon stepped into the room, Scirce. Edna had nothing against the God of genius and madness, however his followers if driven by madness could cause a bit of ruckus now and then. She gave him a small smile and a wave as he entered the room.

Soon the topic went back to the scouting party. "Indeed, we currently have a scout pair and not a scout team. it would be nice to have more members on the team, less chance that any harm would come to them."

Questions came from everywhere in nature so Scire was rather fond of the Goddess of Life. However death and plague is the dutiful driver of change and new ideas. Each their role in the turgid web of creation provided by the fullness of Time. That cycle itself of particular interest to the few he tended to of late.

Sicre nodded her bald head at Hazarmaveth one milky eye lookt to him, "This tea is an effort from one little moth that toils away at a boiling black fringe. That is the problem I hear? I got another of these bags of tea in my pocket today. Moths don't come because you alone can give them the candle to orbit just that you know best where they are. Send the moths to flutter where they are fulfilled until they spark anew or burn away."

Fumbling around in her robes Sicre took out a small set of tethered glass plates to a chest pocket. Cloth bags with a human's wax pen scrawl on them came out next one at a time.

One rattling bag of small seeds she tossed to Edna costume makeup appearing on Scire's face, "Black lands come big questions for my little moth. One set of plants to suffer by ichor, plagues, and tinctures the other to not! Close enough to death but not to rot. Tea is made from the strongest lot of that generation which has not."

She hands the glass with a small sprouted seed scarred by ichor on its first leaves by not the second pair. The bag of tea follows, "He tinkers with tinctures and teas. This the first to show some green though dies just after it's seen. Some for his plants and some for me. The worst he has to burn; you should hear them scream!"

Tir'Ish Na-Ahn
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Tir'ish noted the intent of greeting from Hazarmaveth, and returned one in return. It was no surprise that he could sense Tir'Ish' presence. It was pretty difficult to hide from Hazarmaveth. Tir'Ish waited for a little longer, then felt satisfied that most of the valuable information has been obtained: There was a substance known as Black Ichor, it took life and then "evolved" it into a new type of creature, this seemed to be a concern, and a team was being assembled to scout out the issue. Simple enough.

Tir'Ish began to consider who would be able to scout out this Ichor. Remembering an Earth elemental residing in Hoffngard, Tir'Ish went off to see how she was doing. Kana Na-Ahn was one of Tir'Ish' "children", being an elemental that was able to sustain thanks to its help. She, Kana, had been searching for some purpose to exist, and perhaps this could be it. Tir'Ish left in the direction of Hoffngard, sending a departing greeting back to Hazarmaveth while hiding its intentions and destination.

"Thank you for your kind words, lady Edna, but it is hard to forget... or forgive... that my legacy is in these ruins, Shalom is compensation for the wrong that was dealt by my brother," he says softly in response to the Goddess of Life. He then stands up and looks about. "You are correct, about all having worth. You tend to the mortals and the world, a care for life, and you, Shale, despite brutal, bring balance so that life does not stifle itself out. Indirectly you also make them value life, bring people together through hardship. And to you, Hundun, constantly shifting, have great versatility to any situation, I can see this growing ever more important as times progress. and you Scire, truly unbiased, offer much illumination to many madmen, but many scholars as well, both of which play their roles in growth. You are possibly right in what you said, Shale, if it came to it, we may fare better if my brother were ever to return... or any similar. I just... hope it does not come to that."

With this he sits back down and drinks his tea. "I've had Rey sent to Hoffngard, she should be arriving there shortly, it is the closest city near the edge of Ertse'gart," he says, coming to his conclusion with this meeting. "Do what you will with what you've learned today, and keep vigilant should the situation change. And Hundun, I hope her grief, rage, or what be it does not choose to consume us. You are right, it is something... unpredictable to where or whom it will go. Perhaps even somewhat kin in a way. In any case, I've said what I intended, it is good to see most of you. If there is no further discussion or reports... I'll consider today's meeting has met its purpose."

Just as Hazarmaveth was about to finish the meeting, single black ravens feather floats down in the middle of the table. It flutters before touching the surface, and immediately a spectral echoing voice fills the halls. The voice would only be recognisable by one, Hazarmaveth. It was Abaranne's voice, taken out of his fears by Xyr who embodies all forms of fear and horror. Slowly as the speech continues it gradually changes into the voice of Bashemeth in all its anger.



"I do what I must out of love, I dip my hands into the ink of death and rekindle the sparks of life! I consume death and make life, I consume pain and make pleasure, I consume despair and create joy! I am the embodiment of the grand will, I am the new order, and if they shall come they shall come as witnesses to the future of Aettean!"

Xyr himself said and did nothing, his presence only being found in the feather left behind.

Edna did not react quick enough to catch the seed packet that was thrown to her, however it did land neatly on her lap. As she took it in her hands she examined it, it was a packet of seeds. She was not sure what type of seeds they were but she would see what they grew into back home. "Thank you Sicre, I will be sure to tend to these seeds back home." Edna replied as she held it in her hands.

Soon Hazarmaveth encouraged a bit by her words made a speech about how they were all unique in their own ways. Each one of them actually working together for the mortals despite their huge differences. It made sense, and it was nice to see Hazarmaveth get a little bit of spirit back in him. Once his speech was over, he announced that he had sent Rey to Hoffngard, and Edna covered her mouth in surprise. Of course! She had to talk to Carissa about heading there. She quickly turned around in her chair and conjured an orb before speaking into it. "Oh dear, Carissa. This is Edna. I have something to ask of you, would you care to go on a scouting mission? You have to meet up at Hoffngard with the others...Of course you don't have to do such a thing on my behalf, it could be dangerous." The orb shined a bit before speaking back. "Don't worry, I will be safe. If its a scouting party with others then it sounds fun! Its always nice to get to know more people. And plus this sounds very important. I will do this! You can trust me!" The cheerful voice replied back.

With that quick call out of the way, Edna faced the others as things were wrapping up. But before the meeting ended the all too familiar black feathers of Xyr floated down in the center of the table. The voice of Bashemeth was soon heard and she seemed angry. Edna puffed her cheeks out a bit. "Did Xyr make her angry? How else would he know this. That God is always causing such a ruckus, if he was the one to meet her first then she must have a sour attitude on the rest of us. He might be making her angry on purpose just to see what happens. I say we fix this quickly before things get out of hand." Edna spoke as she was not exactly happy at hearing Xyr causing some chaos.

Scire grinned at Edna as she put a driver of change in motion. Many of his studious little moths weren't quite so good at breaking off remnants of life for study. Different life that ate whatever they found as this case of this new creature proved worse. Then Xyr and the voice of ichor made its presence known. Scire had a distaste for the artless murderers the black tower brought into the world. Occasionally some could be taught and learn to bring creations of worth as Scire was never the headstrong sort.

Scire frowned, this ichor proved to be a thing of destruction and had to be contained. Stabilized. Especially if the moths thought it bore study an intent on spread of careless destruction of creating things boiled his blood. She wondered what the bag of stabilized tainted life would bring. While she didn't even know what they were originally the moth thought them quite industrious. Not to mention illuminating the test pots holding a feeble bane from the idle wandering of the smallest pests of these creatures. Perhaps they were literally glowing wouldn't irradiant plants be ever so interesting!

Scire huffed at the room her chest vanishing with her female voice, "I rather like the current strife of life and death but the new order does sounds interesting. What I dislike is this interest in destroying all the beauty that already exists for blood's own sake. How very coarse."

The corner of Scire's mouth raised with his bared teeth as an idea struck him. He eyed Hazarmaveth with a lilting voice, "I could never rest on one little moth for long. I can strike the stone that can help your little brushes at least."

A small block of marble produced with Scire's now male hand from voluminous pockets the other his gauntlet the chain extending from the pocket. The marble was different than the others some may have seen from time to time. It had Scire's own name on it instead of a mortal's. The namesake turned a red-tinted eye to Edna, "What was her name again? Carissa? My little moths won't like it when philistines try to ruin a canvas with my name on it. They might even help. I might too; I'll have to see what tools I can dig up."

Xyr had played his hand, and was gloating about it in his own way. He had contacted the black ichor first and disturbed her. It was not like it came to any surprise, though, Xyr loved to cause drama, what grinded with Hazarmaveth was the fact he was playing a field much bigger than a few mortals, not that he appreciated that either... many a soul has come by him that were brought to tragedy through Xyr's handiwork.

When the message spoke in Abaranne's voice at first he was admittedly shocked, more a tinge of hope lingered inside of him that he would hear her once more. It was clear though, that this was some form of trickery, a game on his mind. He would not be played for a fool, not like this.

"A very callous stage, Xyr," he says, a tinge of irritation bleeding forth. "Farthest from a good first impression... pray this bodes nothing ill for the others."

He was concerned, not only with the rate of growth by Bashemath, but also for the scouting party soon to venture forth into it. He fidgets with Quell.

"Join you say, Shale, but he just wants a lead actor in his next big tragedy," he says rather abruptly, his flame and eyes flared. His cloak-like body ruffles out and flows wildly. "I know not what experience has gnarled his sensibilities, but I can say for certain that he's one without loyalty, and everyone, perhaps even himself, are just players. That includes us."

With this he lowers his head and composes himself. It was no place to lose himself, Xyr acted slowly... usually. Peace was not off the table... just complicated slightly. Then Scire stepped in, offering her... well, now his help. He nods his head, it was of some comfort to gain support from the God of the Driven.

"Any support you can spare would be appreciated, as long as it is no burden," he says, returning to his calm and considerate demeanor. "Your name itself is a great boon to the cause."

"I just hope the actions taken place today bode nothing ill."

Scire might seem absent minded as well as occasionally mad but held onto knowledge like a steel trap. Silver eyes gleamed back to reply with serious tone, "They know to behave when I've my eye on something. Just don't be surprised if my moths circle closer to build shelter for your three devoted. Just be careful what they ask for."

Smiling he noted, "I might just know a moth to build it. Or the moths might offer. Once there's a pretty mark for them to circle your devoted can bargain upon my madder crows circling. If you need blood on the earth anyway."

A scar floating to surface of his cheek, "The earth's so often so thirsty it seems. I will see to it my crows don't gather a jar of eyes unless duly bidden!"

He begins scratching Carissa's name into the top of the marble block along with his own.

Scire smiled at Ai as she came in as what Scire was to the mind Ai was for the body so he considered her more his counterpart than the others there. Many of his moths were inspired by desire or created because of the link she made for ones the moths once lost. Loss often kept moths anchored as well as the living loves that tempered obsessiveness into utility. However Scire, whether him or herself at the time, looked at Ai's eyes when speaking to her being a creature appreciative more of the benefit desire brought to mediating creation. Scire tended to more... academic... pursuits of the flesh among his flock than the ones she held interest in. Though he had a soft spot for drawing beautiful things from time to time as did many of the artists working in his name.

Crimson colored eyes gleamed at Ai, "Hello, AI! Forgive me if I don't get your seat I'm carving at the moment! There's a fell fire burning down creation making smouldering ashes of everything it touches. Breaking all the things and people we tended to all these years out of blasted earth."

Scire frowned his eyes turning cold blue, "Now this ichor wants to tear out all the hard work and replace it with themselves. All the carefully hybridized flowers torn out to smother the world in basalt. It's wanton destruction with no love of anything but itself."

Grunting he added sourly while striking blood from the marble while ardently writing his name there, "Even my basest bloodied crows have a sense of decorum. They don't just lay waste."

---

Ai, Goddess of Love, Lust, and Sexuality
Fairy Glade

---

Scrie, the more scholarly of her siblings greeted her first and with a smile. He, as he was today, appreciated her talents, he understood that she was necessary, if not important to the world of mortals and he thought her beautiful enough to draw.

SHe smiled at him, waving a few fingers as his scarlet eyes shimmered. Hello, AI! Forgive me if I don't get your seat I'm carving at the moment! There's a fell fire burning down creation making smouldering ashes of everything it touches. Breaking all the things and people we tended to all these years out of blasted earth." He said and she frowned. "Huh?" she said, cocking her head to the left in confusion. He knew many words, and not all of them she knew herself, but from what she could tell. Something was burning things, mortals?

"Burning?" She asked before he went on, his eyes turned a steely blue. "Now this ichor wants to tear out all the hard work and replace it with themselves. All the carefully hybridized flowers torn out to smother the world in basalt. It's wanton destruction with no love of anything but itself." He said and she rose a hand to her ample chest. "My." She breathed. No love? That was not good, not good at all. "Even my basest bloodied crows have a sense of decorum. They don't just lay waste." He said as he struck the marble he'd been working on, bleeding it. She sighed. "Well, What are we going to do, Scrie?" She asked. "Surely we can not allow such a thing to continue, What are the others saying?" She asked, knowing that she was a lover, not a fighter, and if it didn't love, there was nothing she could do. She could distract most anything. A raging beast would calm at her touch, a frustrated warrior would relax in her presence, even a madman could be distracted, but all of those things could love. this...Ichor, according to her brother, could not.

The marble block turned with his hands showing channels on the other sides that flowed in and around each other the scars that left a circular pool of blood below it like melted wax. Scire smiled and cupped his hand above the block blowing on it. A whoomp of thumping red flame above it inhaled the pool of wax moving about the channels freely. The ticking adoration of madmen tapped to see their notice directed at a canvas marked as an interest of his own. Most would appreciate that Scire saw intrinsic value in her activities and the rest he would watch.

Sat back he grinned as the gauntlet's sharp finger turned to rounded mail. Unadorned candle enkindled behind him he rose to his feet to Ai with predatory eyes that saw uncertainty. At that movement yellow robe tightens to brown and gold shaded formalwear a muscled frame behind it one chainmail glove tethered into his pants pocket.

Scire reaches forward to stroke Ai's cheek with a chainmail thumb that inspired errant misplaced memories, "They have sent their little brushes to paint a better understanding of the threat. To burn or to learn? You can do what you have always done and how you have always created..."

He smiled pushing up his glasses with his other hand then pointing at her nose with it, "...find the worthy and give them something to fight for."

Hazarmaveth simply stood quietly at this display by Ai, as promiscuous as it were. Many mortals find themselves moved, whisked within this flirtatious display, but he was not a mortal, nor ever was, and was certainly not one would call ideal physically as he currently was. He felt ever so slightly awkward in this, but with a brief respite from the flirtatious exchange he cleared his throat.

"Greetings, Ai, an extravagant of entrance as I should have come to expect," he says, trying to douse the atmosphere somewhat. "What Scire has stated is true in some regards, the Black Ichor, Bashemath, spreads, taking that which has died and breathing in new life, but is yet to actively destroy. The other fact is that she came from the tree of the first mother... a fact, I admit, that leaves me alone emotionally unreliable to act on this matter."

He turns away, looking out upon a balcony down upon Aettean, taking a moment to settle his mind from the war raging within. The last thing he desired was to lose himself.

"Perhaps with no love is not exactly true, this being was born in part from what Abaranne must have felt seeing her children dead and dying before her, a feeling I'm sure so few of us could even remotely relate to," with this he sighs and looks back. "I believe she believes everything she says, that she wants to create a protected world of nothing but life and pleasure, perhaps... perhaps instead she is like a child who witnessed something she loved destroyed, but at the same time felt every second of its final moments. Perhaps instead of lacking love, it is instead indiscriminate maniacal love that is fueled by trauma both physical and emotional."

---

Ai, Goddess of Love, Lust, and Sexuality
Fairy Glade

---

Ai looked over as Hazarmaveth cleared his throat, her kittenish grin never fading. He seemed to be a little embarrassed by what he'd been saying, and perhaps a little shy given his form. Ai, however, loved to love, no matter what the form so long as she could touch it. "Greetings, Ai, an extravagant of entrance as I should have come to expect," He said, and she giggled. He was trying to ease the sexual tension....he would learn that was just her present. Like his blue light, ever present. "Greetings, Hazarmaveth." She purred.

"What Scire has stated is true in some regards, the Black Ichor, Bashemath, spreads, taking that which has died and breathing in new life, but is yet to actively destroy. The other fact is that she came from the tree of the first mother... a fact, I admit, that leaves me alone emotionally unreliable to act on this matter."
He explained and Ai rose her brows. "She?" She sang. It it had a gender, then it was likely it had a personality, if it had a personality, it had intelligence, and if it had intelligence, it had desires, and desires were her specialty. She looked at Hazarmaveth and his sudden bashfulness in regards to emotion and she lifted herself from her seat atop the table, standing before Scrie, dancing a few fingers across his chest, she moved over to Hazarmaveth and smiled almost sadly, as he lost himself in his thoughts for a moment.

"Perhaps with no love is not exactly true, this being was born in part from what Abaranne must have felt seeing her children dead and dying before her, a feeling I'm sure so few of us could even remotely relate to," He said and for the first time, her flirtatious expression faded. She bore no children, but wanted to. She did not want demi-god children that she would have to love from a distance, she wanted a child, full God or Goddess that she could love up close. She already loved her imaginary children, she could only imagine what it would be like to lose real ones. Love like that was the strongest, and that could not be manipulated only strengthened.

"I believe she believes everything she says, that she wants to create a protected world of nothing but life and pleasure, perhaps... perhaps instead she is like a child who witnessed something she loved destroyed, but at the same time felt every second of its final moments. Perhaps instead of lacking love, it is instead indiscriminate maniacal love that is fueled by trauma both physical and emotional."

Ai looked at Hazarmaveth and sighed. "And what, Brother, do you believe I can do, as you know, with even the smallest amount of love, I can manipulate it, but if this is what is fueling this....ichor, then there is not much I can do." She said but then pursed her lips. "Unless, I can increase the love she has for the things being destroyed?" She offered but she didn't think there was much too that theory. Love was a fickle thing, as strong as it was.

As Edna was calming herself down from what Xyr was planning, another voice and figure entered the council room. As she looked at the new arrival it was Ai the Goddess of Lust, and Sexuality. Edna smiled at her and waved. "Welcome Ai, looking as beautiful as always. Glad you can join us." She greeted with a smile.

As the meeting still continued Edna began to get more nervous, she was really worried about Xyr's plot and Bashemath. She needed to find her and see if she can get friendly with her. She may not have been the type to push the advantage or get fired up, but when the lives of many people were in danger she could not wait idly. "I'm sorry, I can't wait any longer. I will be looking for Bashemath myself. I just can't sit around doing nothing, but I am sure we can fix this situation and return back to our peaceful lives. I wish we could stay longer and talk but lets ensure Xyr stops this mess before it gets out of hand. I will be sure to make a party once this gets solved so please do come by to my home if you have time. I will see you all soon." She smiled as she conjured an orb from thin air with the image of the mortal word then like that she vanished.