Maybe Shulamit Should Check on Her Kids Way More Often

A long title because I was unsure. Started with poor Khnemu being wiggly about nothing visible to the rest of us. So ghost in the blood, or gods. Turns out, gods!

- - - - - -

Khnemu shudders violently.


Khnemu says, "N-noted."


You think to yourself: Oh...dear?


Tonatiuh stretches subtly from side to side as his storm-hued fur radiates warmth and flame-kissed iridescence.

Worried, you say to Khnemu, "Are you okies?"


You think to yourself: I can't brandish my lyre at things that are not here.


Tonatiuh opens a gorgeous feathered boa.


"Eh?" Nepenthe says curiously.


Kind Nepenthe laughingly says, "I left for one minute and someone else traumatized Khnemu?"


You shrug helplessly at Nepenthe.


Black sand swirls throughout the balcony in a small storm as silvery cracks spread through the aether. Soon, much comes to condense itself in a singular point behind you as the Shofet looks down over your shoulder, as though They had always been here.


Tonatiuh blinks.


Khnemu stands and makes an effort to smooth down their fur.


Khnemu coughs softly.


Kind Nepenthe says, "Hey, look at that."


You curtsey gracefully before Mysrai.


Tonatiuh kneels before Mysrai and touches his head to the ground in worship.


Nepenthe raises his hand in greeting to Mysrai and says "Hi!"


Khnemu bows respectfully to Mysrai.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Mysrai, "Hi hi! I have...a...shrimpie?"


Soothsayer Tonatiuh al-Saaoud says, "Greetings, Great Shofet."


You give plump pickled shrimp to Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales.


You think to yourself: Shrimps are a good gift! Bizirik said so.


Mysrai gently releases the Jackal's staff from Their grip, blackened blood dripping from its bladed edge as They shake Their head towards you. "Thank you, My Beacon. Yet I fear a simple factor prevents Me from consuming such."


Mysrai ceases to wield the Jackal's staff in Their left hand.


The first rumbles of a distant eruption reverberate through every surface, causing the very foundations to shiver and quake.


You think to yourself: Oh wait! Maybe it was the Shofet poking at Khnemu. Then I can't brandish a lyre ever at Them.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "O...oh?"


Caressing your ear, the voice of Tonatiuh whispers, "An allergy??"


Worried, you say, "Are shrimpies bad? Too shrimpie?"


Their oddly echoing voice shifting and churning in a thousand different tones, Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales says, "I have already feasted, My sweet."


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "Oh! Well, that's good, right? You can have it later!"


You nod your head sagely.


Khnemu relaxes visibly.


You think to yourself: Although shrimpies probably wouldn't last long in the desert heat.


You think to yourself: Maybe gods are immune to food poisoning.


With an audible 'POP!' as it vanishes from Their grasp, Mysrai gives plump pickled shrimp to Khnemu.


You blink.


Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales says, "Nonsense. The youngling must feed if they are to grow."


Nepenthe giggles happily.


Turning to scan Their surroundings, Mysrai's countenance is overtaken by a layer of oily, alien colours that dance across Their flesh and warp Their face into a terrifyingly savage one.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "Oh! Even better!"


Skarde has been led to the Halls of the Fates by the ancestors of Lisuarte.

You see the death occur at a kitchen large enough to feed an army.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Khnemu, "It's a good shrimp!"


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "I made it!~."


You think to yourself: Good shrimpies.


Khnemu chuckles nervously.


You think to yourself: That Thalkros devours for odd reasons. He even eats Coraline's...scary...shrimps.


Khnemu consumes plump pickled shrimp leisurely, seeming to enjoy every bite.


As They cross one leg over the other, sitting in midair as though lounging upon a great throne, Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales asks you, "How fares your son's rehabilitation, Beloved Beacon?"


Joy suddenly washes over you in waves, your entire body glowing a cheerful shade of citrine yellow.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Mysrai, "I haven't seen Zeebin for a bit, we haven't been awake at the same times!"


Mysrai's statuesque visage gives no hint as to Their feelings on that, though the dark sand swirls a bit more energetically as it rages around Them.


You have emoted: Shulamit scratches her head, tinkling like a wind chime. "I should send him a letter, asking what he's learned!"


You ponder the situation.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "Maybe on the stationery design, once I've finished it."


With a dark grin that reveals a mouth full of far too many fangs, Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales says, "A wise idea, My Beacon. A punishment that does not teach, after all, must be built upon."


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "With more learning? Learning is good! Sometimes it takes a bit."


You nod your head sagely.


You think to yourself: Can maggots eat chocolate...I haven't even started that design! Focus!


As They begin to rotate in place, soon looking at Their surroundings from an upside-down viewpoint, Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales says, "With further punishment, My dear. To ensure the lessons stick."


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Mysrai, "Oh! Oh...but what if you're forgetful and forget things, like I sometimes do? I don't want to upset you when my mind lets go of the thingies!"


You fret and worry over everything that could possibly go wrong, glowing a shivering shade of silver.


Glowing pink, you say, "I still try! And will keep trying! And try to teach Zeebin to be good and thingies."


Ebon shadows pass through your surroundings like vengeful ghosts, singing a haunting dirge as the Shofet's eyes flash in a dark, beautiful manner. The howling melody echoes Their voice as They say, "I do believe that poor shop in Dairuchi shall never fully recover. I would so hate to have to paint the city with his blood, My dear, dear Beacon."


Tonatiuh shifts his weight from foot to foot as a crackle of nervous static ripples through his storm-hued fur.


You have emoted: Shulamit looks around the city, confused. "It would clash. I'll send him a letter!"


Mysrai reaches out and pats your cheek fondly with a paw, remarking, "Your job is not to remember, but to simply Be, My dear, sweet Shulamit. A pillar of Ivory rising from the Ebon sea."


Millien arrives from the west.


You think to yourself: He's also very short, I don't think blood would go far. Maybe I can recommend he eat more liver. In case.


Glowing brightly where she was touched on the cheek, you say, "Oh! I can do that! Yes yes!"


With a feral grin that sends crackles of scarlet lightning dancing around Their maw, Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales says to you, "Do not fear, My love. Should he not have enough blood, then I will simply have to slay him until I have enough to complete the task.""


Millien blinks.


Millien ponders the situation.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "But if he makes more, then it's less smiting, and easier on You! It feels like smiting would be hard work!"


You think to yourself: It feels like smiting would be tiring after the first few smites, at least.


Kind Nepenthe says to you, "In your letter make sure you tell him to have as much blood as he can."


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Nepenthe, "I was already thinking it!"


You nod your head emphatically.


Mysrai withdraws Their paw, laying it on Their lap with its twin as They smile another wide smile that reveals a second layer of fangs behind the first. "How wise. Such a good friend to My Shulamit you are."


Kind Nepenthe says, "That way he'll be ready for either scenario."


Millien scratches her head looking for an idea.


Kind Nepenthe laughingly says, "Oh yeah, that's me."


You think to yourself: Sometimes Nepenthe is good, sometimes Nepenthe is Nepenthe.


You think to yourself: Hm...what about...little chocolate...truffles.


You have emoted: Shulamit's eyes glaze over for a moment, dreaming of something.


You think to yourself: Foooocus.


Mysrai turns in midair as though readying to leave, and then stops and looks towards Tonatiuh mid-twist, Their head swivelling like an owl's upon Their neck to look at him in a way that would prove instantly fatal for a mortal. "My Liar seeks out the source of some concern to My thieves. They are not presently available at this time. See that their work is not disturbed."


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "I will write a letter! On normal stationery!"


Glowing in tune with her words, you say, "And will finish this fancy stationery! I will send you the draft of it, because You might find it interesting."


Thoughtfully, you say, "The board might send it anyways."


Tonatiuh rests his chin on the tip of an indigo oracle staff bearing hieroglyphic suns in thoughtful contemplation.


Mysrai's eyes flicker dangerously as They look towards Millien. "Not quiet enough, morsel."


Soothsayer Tonatiuh al-Saaoud says to Mysrai, "Shall leave them to their work, Great Shofet. There is time yet, for.. things."


You think to yourself: Can we eat...a Millien? Viscanti seems crunchy.


Lenara appears


"Hey!" Tonatiuh greets Lenara warmly.


You hug Lenara compassionately, glowing shades of pearl.


Lenara beams broadly.


Lenara hugs you compassionately.


Millien ponders the situation.


Lenara gives a horrified gasp.


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Mysrai, "Hi hi! This is one of my other kids that is probably currently not a maggot, Lenara."


Glowing in tune with her words, you say to Lenara, "Hi hi dear! This is the Shofet! Be polite and stuff!"


Boopable Caliph Lenara Lunarose, Face of Freedom says, "I... I'm not even dressed properly!"


Mysrai's arm detaches from its socket, bending in a wholly unnatural manner as They reach out to gently pat you twice atop the head. "I leave now, to continue the hunt. See that you continue to shine, My dear. Let us hope that your children learn to emulate your brilliance."


Lenara curtseys gracefully before Mysrai.


"See you later!" Nepenthe says to Mysrai as he waves furiously.


"Ok!" you exclaim at Mysrai.


You nod your head enthusiastically.


A swirling sandstorm of chaos energy engulfs Mysrai, scouring the area around Them before fading to leave reality whole and safe once more.


With a flourish of their arm, Khnemu bows deeply.


Tonatiuh creases his brow in a frown.


In a noticeable Southlands accent, Millien Myeras says, "Well then."


Millien gives a trillingly melodic laugh.


Opening her mouth wide, Lenara gapes in wonder.


Bookbinder by trade! Designer of most other things.

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Comments

  • Tiny-jackal context:

    - - - - - -

    The vicious eyes of a nearby skylantern seems to glow as it looks at you. When you look towards it, though, it appears no different than before, leaving an unsettling sense of fear in your stomach.

    You say, "Did anyone...see that...lantern..?"

    As you peer anxiously in the direction of the lanterns, the sense of fear in your stomach is renewed as you hear something walking behind you. You whip your head around, yet there is nothing there out of place.

    "Uhh..." you stall.

    Shulamit nods her head at you.

    Glowing in tune with her words, Multifaceted Designer Shulamit Lunarose, Mysrai's Beacon says, "Yes, we saw it."

    Glowing in tune with her words, Multifaceted Designer Shulamit Lunarose, Mysrai's Beacon says, "If you mean the jackal one from earlier?"

    You have emoted: Khnemu's ears droop and their hackles rise tensely.

    Glowing in tune with her words, Multifaceted Designer Shulamit Lunarose, Mysrai's Beacon says to you, "Are you okies?"

    Behind Shulamit, an enormous shadow becomes manifest, rising up over her and staring down at you with eyes that blaze like scarlet lightning.

    You say, "Just now, there-glrk."

    You run around madly, flapping your arms in a blind panic.

    With nary a sound, the shadow vanishes, leaving you to wonder if you ever saw it. Yet behind you, you hear a voice that echoes oddly despite being right next to your ear. "I see no resemblance."

    You shudder violently as a chill ripples down your spine.

    You say, "N-noted."

  • Poor Khnemu, everyone saying Khnemu is a tiny shofet because jackal!

    Also sweet af, got me an enormous shadow!
    Bookbinder by trade! Designer of most other things.

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  • FACT.

    You give plump pickled shrimp to Mysrai, the Shofet of Abyssal Scales.


    You think to yourself: Shrimps are a good gift! Bizirik said so.

    ‘It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways.
    It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind. Be kind.’


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