Isune logs

UshaaraUshaara Schrödinger's TraitorMember Posts: 1,257 Transcendent
@Isune - you were amazing and had a big part in developing Ushaara's character and secrets. Had many great interactions with you but this was my favourite. Thank you!

After the Volucer dolls were released:
<< lots of petting Volucer doll spam >>

Entrias arrives from the northwest.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris says, "I did not know she created the avians. The
Ladies Isune and Trillillial painted them only?"

Entrias doffs a crown of the master tradesman cordially.

You raise your hand in greeting to Entrias and say "Hi!"

Zyphora curtseys gracefully.

Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer says, "Hello father, wife."

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris says, "Tidings, Entrias."

You smile and say to Entrias, "We are just admiring Dame Fairquillion's latest creation. Have you
seen them?"

Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer says, "No, I've just awoken."

You give a plush doll of Volucer to Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer.

Presenting a plush doll of Volucer in her hands, High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris
says, "She crafted these for sale to anyone who desires to buy, at Volucer's request."

Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer says, "Ah, interesting."

Finger extended, Entrias pokes a plush doll of Volucer.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris smiles and says, "He responds when you pet him."

You smile and say, "Volucer enjoys being petted it would seem!"

You nod your head emphatically.

Entrias's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Entrias pets a plush doll of Volucer ingratiatingly.
A plush doll of Volucer swoops overhead in a clean arc, greeting Entrias with a shrill cry.

A plush doll of Volucer says, "Lord Elostian always confused me. Is He Lacostian, is He Elcyrion, is
He just very indecisive...?"
A plush doll of Volucer clicks its tongue in quiet contemplation, appearing quite stumped.

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Showing that he understands, Entrias nods his head slowly.

Zyphora pets a plush doll of Volucer ingratiatingly.
A plush doll of Volucer swoops overhead in a clean arc, greeting Zyphora with a shrill cry.

A plush doll of Volucer exclaims, "Tully's so nice. He always makes sure the Lady's Fulcrux is tidy.
She has the cleanest volcano in Lusternia!"
A plush doll of Volucer hums a happy tune.

It is now the 18th of Kiani, 356 years after the Coming of Estarra.

"Ahah!" Zyphora exclaims triumphantly.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris says, "That's the last one."

Entrias utters a deep, rumbling laugh.

Entrias pets a plush doll of Volucer ingratiatingly.
A plush doll of Volucer swoops overhead in a clean arc, greeting Entrias with a shrill cry.

Dreamily, a plush doll of Volucer exclaims, "The Lady Isune's dawn is truly wonderful to fly through.
 Such nice shades of gold, lavender, and blue!"
A plush doll of Volucer drifts away from the conversation, lost in its daydreams.

Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer says, "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

You shake your head.

Zyphora shakes her head.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris says, "We were simply amusing ourselves over the
dolls."

Showing that he understands, Entrias nods his head slowly.

Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer says to Zyphora, "Perhaps when you're done, we
can catch up?"

You smile and say, "I think I had just exhausted all Volucer had to say, so hold onto the doll for a
while."

Chancellor Entrias Windwhisper, Maintenance Engineer says, "Thank you, father."

Zyphora nods her head at Entrias.

Entrias doffs a crown of the master tradesman cordially.

Entrias leaves to the southwest.

Spire of the Lawgivers.
Banks of clouds roil about here. Four silver obelisks rise into the air, supporting a dome of
prismatic crystal. High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris is here, surrounded by a flurry
of white feathers caught in a perfumed breeze. She wields a kaleidoscopic shield of fractal flowers
in her left hand and a delicate crystal staff in her right.
You see exits leading northeast, southeast, southwest, northwest, and up.

Entrias has left the area.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris places a hand against her chest briefly, before
stroking the doll as though for reassurance.

You say, "Thank you again for the doll, and for thinking of me. I should probably leave you to speak
with Entrias."

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper, the Gilded Iris nods once, her eyes downcast, still stroking the
doll. "You're welcome, Ushaara. It was nice to see you again."

Zyphora curtseys gracefully.

Solemn, staid voices can be heard from somewhere outdoors, rising and falling in emotionless,
precise monotone.

You bow respectfully to Zyphora.

A sweet-scented wind picks up, swirling about Zyphora with a flurry of white feathers that follow
her to the southwest.

Zyphora has left the area.

<< Isune appears >>

Your surroundings hush and pale as a solemn mourning dove fades into existence, her silhouette
shadowed by motes of silvery blue light.

Twilight hues thread through the aura of shadow surrounding a solemn mourning dove, glittering
darkly as a feminine voice echoes, "May I speak with you, Ushaara of the Architect?"

You ask, "Of course, my Lady. Shall I come to Your fulcrux?"

Twilight hues thread through the aura of shadow surrounding a solemn mourning dove, glittering
darkly as a feminine voice echoes, "If it so pleases you. I can speak with you at any location you
desire."

Twilight hues thread through the aura of shadow surrounding a solemn mourning dove, glittering
darkly as a feminine voice echoes, "I understand if you would prefer a modicum of privacy, however."

You say, "I'll make my way to Your fulcrux so."

Sparks of light dance and flare around you, a momentary sensation of disorienting disconnection
overtaking your senses as the world is wiped out to a slate of shimmering white. Within moments
which feel like an eternity, you find yourself suddenly within a similar fountain of light, unharmed.

The Fulcrux of Isune.
Shifting and shimmering in undulating waves, heatless sparks rise in a rippling fountain of light. A
solitary iris has sprouted from the glorious terrain here, its petals a palette of gorgeous colours.
A mist-emblazoned tablet rests here, glowing with a soft luminescence. The graceful, translucent
form of a bird of paradise dances in the air, the insubstantial image shifting through a constant
stream of vivid colours. Shimmering with a dreamy gossamer, a strange, vegetal feather lies here. An
enormous falcon nervously talons the ground, wings mantling.
There are no obvious exits.

You give the world a smart salute.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "How is your Lord faring,
Keeper?"

You say, "Unfortunately I have not had the chance to speak with Him of late. Though I understand He
is recovering well after Mysrai's assault."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Yes, I am relieved that He
is doing well. I thought of imploring Eventru for aid, but then thought of the Architect's pride,
and decided it should not be wounded as well."

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "It is a shame how the
Firsts all desire to be, well. First."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "The Artists never had such
fights among Us, or if We did, it was a dispute over the colour yellow, or the way shadow and sound
flow."

[ INFO ]  -  Socket got disconnected. Operation timed out

The Fulcrux of Isune.
Shifting and shimmering in undulating waves, heatless sparks rise in a rippling fountain of light. A
solitary iris has sprouted from the glorious terrain here, its petals a palette of gorgeous colours.
A mist-emblazoned tablet rests here, glowing with a soft luminescence. The graceful, translucent
form of a bird of paradise dances in the air, the insubstantial image shifting through a constant
stream of vivid colours. Shimmering with a dreamy gossamer, a strange, vegetal feather lies here. An
enormous falcon nervously talons the ground, wings mantling. Thick, coiling tail wound in and around
itself, a terrifying basilisk hisses dangerously.
There are no obvious exits.

Sparks of colour twirl about the caldera's rim with faint amusement.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I see that you are faring
in a state in flux, then."

You smile and say, "My apologies, yes.. the last I heard was of the Artists being far more agreeable
than the Firsts."

Vibrant feminine laughter ripples about the caldera's rim, twinkling with light.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "May I ask how you are
faring, then, Keeper?"

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "For you are an aspect of
your Lord, as His Avatar. Your well-being is also of importance."

Carefully, you say, "I am... well."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "A long pause for a short
reply."

Sparks of colour twirl about the caldera's rim with faint amusement.

You smile and say, "Dame Fairquillion's dolls proved a welcome distraction to lift spirits and shift
thought from somewhat less happy considerations."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I find it intriguing, how
mortals are so often drawn to the Divine that they closest empathize with. I find it is so with Mine,
 and with Zvoltz's, as well."

You smile softly.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "There is disharmony within
you, dear, is there not? Your very heartbeat is erratic, the pulse is trembling with discord. Such
is not like you."

You say, "Lord Zvoltz once told me that harmony with oneself is often the most difficult to achieve.
I am trusting that patience and loyalty to His Foundations will guide me through the current discord.
"

You look thoughtful and say, "Well, trying to trust at least..."

The lights at the caldera appear to blossom with gentle ambience, soft and radiant in their glow.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Would it surprise you to
learn that your patron once suffered the same discord in His heart?"

"Oh?" you exclaim quizzically.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Ah, so it does surprise
you. Which somehow surprises Me, I suppose."

Sparks of colour twirl about the caldera's rim with faint amusement.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Yes, He would know that
harmony with oneself is the most difficult to achieve. Often, one cannot do it alone. How easily it
is to reassemble oneself incorrectly, to look at the pictures we concoct of ourselves and find them
lacking."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I recall meeting Zvoltz
once, many years ago. So long ago in fact it almost feels unreal. I knew Him differently than now, I
had no reason to speak with Him but merely to respect Him from afar."

You tilt your head and listen intently.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "For awhile, He was...
distant. A mere shadow of Himself. I recall thinking of Him as devoid of emotion, as a pillar of
strength that intimidated Me in its fortitude. Such was how many saw Him."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "And how could We not? With
His commanding air, His names of Stormfather, the Sober Judge, the Fulminating Adjudicator, surely
there was much to intimidate and to be awed by."

You smile softly.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Yet this distance did not
make Him strong, no. It merely kept Us at bay, I understand that now. I understood it only a little,
then, when I saw what changed Him from that state."

You ask, "And what was that?"

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "The power of another being.
 The power of compassion."

You look thoughtful and say, "The lady carved in the cliff-face?"

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "It is not for Gods to
disclose one another's secrets, and so I shall let Her be a mystery to you as I am certain He
intends for Her to be. I understand that not all are as...transparent, as Myself, in their
affections."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "But She was lovely, and
all She touched became lovely, too. And She touched the Architect's heart, a place that no other had
claimed with their artistry."

You smile softly.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "That sort of
transformation is to be envied, for it is rarely found and often at a dear cost."

With a soft smile, you say, "I think I understand more clearly your observation of how mortals are
drawn to the Divine they empathise with. There is advice for me in this story too."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I understand mortals'
hearts suffer, similarly, to how Gods do, though Our hearts have suffered through many ages of
sorrows. Yet if We can survive an eternity of this, surely you, shard of Xyl, who loved My Sister as
I fear no God shall ever love again, can find the harmony you seek."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I shall no longer hold you
captive to My stories, Keeper. I wish you well, however you choose your fate."

You say, "Thank You, my Lady, though I have one question, if I can manage to adequately form my
thoughts to phrase it."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I believe you have
listened enough to Me to be granted My audience for a single query."

A flock of brilliant white sparrows shoot up from one side of the caldera, flap past in a rush, and
disappear noisily over the rim and down the mountain.

You frown and say, "I think I will have to ask You in a prayer when I can phrase my question
properly. I am frustrated by my inability to form the question to my own satisfaction."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Do not be harsh with
yourself for your silence. Words are elusive when they matter most, because each syllable becomes
suddenly so precious. When our speech means nothing, it is easy to spill forth word after word in a
babbling fountain of sound."

You smile and say, "Well I was going to say it was perhaps because I was subconsciously recognising
the fallacy of its logic, but Yours is much better!"

Vibrant feminine laughter ripples about the caldera's rim, twinkling with light.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I see you have learned
from My Order how to flatter Me. You certainly could not have learned that from Zvoltz."

Your mouth turns up as your face breaks into a smile.

You smile and say, "I will leave You on that note then. Thank You for speaking with me."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I await your prayer,
Keeper, and shall endeavor to answer it with what Wisdom I am able."

You nod your head affirmatively.

You drop to one knee, demonstrating your humility and respect.

You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Go well, Keeper."

Sparks of light dance and flare around you, a momentary sensation of disorienting disconnection
overtaking your senses as the world is wiped out to a slate of shimmering white. Within moments
which feel like an eternity, you find yourself suddenly within a similar fountain of light, unharmed.
Tagged:

Comments

  • SalomeSalome Member Posts: 677 Mythical
    What a beautiful log. Thank you for sharing it with us. I rarely get to see inside interactions with the Gods of Hallifax. It was lovely to see.
    The apple is cold, crisp, and sour as the juices fill your mouth. As you consume the fruit, you glimpse, for a moment, a massive, shadowy figure, Her snow-white hair framing a perfect, icy-eyed visage. Beneath you, a vast, perfect web of silken strands lies - and, for a moment, you realize that you too are part of it, weaver and strand both - and home.
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