ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ᴜɴᴅʏɪɴɢ (
necrolord) wrote in
deercountry2021-12-31 03:26 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
03 . boat log!
Who:
necrolord and existing CR. If your character has met the Emperor and would respond positively to an invite, jump on in. (If you're not sure, ask me at
ochrona!)
What: A voyage out to sea! This is a mingle log; feel free to toplevel and tag around.
When: Ambiguously around New Year's.
Where: The Pthumerian Ocean.
Content Warnings: Undead sailors, flesh-eating crabs, tentacles, corpses; Deer-standard levels of inherent fleshy horror. Note all the usual warnings of this character.
[ See John's toplevel for prompts, and feel free to tag in brackets or prose! ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
What: A voyage out to sea! This is a mingle log; feel free to toplevel and tag around.
When: Ambiguously around New Year's.
Where: The Pthumerian Ocean.
Content Warnings: Undead sailors, flesh-eating crabs, tentacles, corpses; Deer-standard levels of inherent fleshy horror. Note all the usual warnings of this character.
[ See John's toplevel for prompts, and feel free to tag in brackets or prose! ]
no subject
(Necromancers. Hence.)]
Neither am I! Not exclusively, or really all that much — I've taken classes. [He says, with a gesture with his hand still holding the cloak as if to say, Like anyone would take classes about blood.] An innate link having something to do with it sounds likely, although...
[He trails off with a slight shrug. The blood itself seems to know more than they do, then? That's a path to follow some other time when he is not covered in crabs. He shakes off another couple, with effort.
Now, hmm... ahem.] Lightning sounds interesting.
no subject
[the sword touches the backs of a small line of crabs as she very, very carefully maneuvers it against the extremely flammable everything else, and the ones that don't scurry away seem to die on the metaphorical vine. it's progress and she'll take it.]
You study blood? [he does kind of look like a nerd (complimentary).] Let me guess, though. Definitely not normal classes about regular blood stuff. No offense, but nobody on this little voyage is normal.
no subject
Getting there. Some of these crabs are, hm, stupid? And trying to scuttle back up in a different spot. Incredible. Someone should do a study.]
I'm a necromancer; blood study is part of the package, yeah. I got full marks. [nerd; he hasn't been in a class in years but he's still compelled to get an ego about it when his other half isn't around to tell him no, oops-] Blood, bones, spirits... None of which are my specialty, but I dabble in the arts.
[A beat. Well, she brough it up first, sooo-] What do you do that's so abnormal, then?
no subject
[and then, of course, he has to ask what makes her abnormal, and she's gonna withhold some of the information, but most of it is hard to hide anyway. she rolls up the sleeve of her ungloved hand to reveal jet black metallic plating and robotic joints.]
I'm an android. I'm told that's not normal, but who knows anymore, right? For all I know that's just what my brain's telling me I am and we're all just squids in jars shooting synapses at each other.
no subject
Yes. Bone-loving buddies. Those ones.
...He does not, in fact, know what an android is, because an empire built on playing with the dead has no particularly strong designs on anything like AI, so. Hmm. He looks? He sees, and so he can guess, but huh.]
I would know if I were a squid in a jar, [he says, squinting overtly at her revealed plating. Fascinating...] Even if I couldn't do anything about it, I'd know. So — congratulations, we're not that.
no subject
Only one who'll really know anything is Mariana, though. And I just hope we've got enough of whatever we need—bone magic or machine blood or whatever to get an answer from her. Otherwise this could go south.
no subject
[No offense to any imaginary towns or dreams or whatever, but Palamedes cannot possibly fathom being fooled on this level. If they were squids in jars, he's convinced he would be able to tell. He has a storied past being aware of being in what amounts to a jar, so.
Anyway, point is, not jars.]
I think our [.....] captain can handle enough bone magic all by himself. What do you suppose he's doing back on the ship while we're out here? I haven't touched an ounce of necromancy since we left, which is entirely counter to what he alleged I'd be doing out here.
[What the fuck! Is he up to! Pal is this close to boat heisting.]
no subject
So what did our captain say you'd be doing? 'Cause he told me we'd be going out to commune with Mariana and get some answers, and I don't know how necromancy plays into all of that. [and a casual pause so she can slip in the much bigger, more interesting question.] I don't know anything about him, really. Not even his name. And like, hey, he wants to keep secrets, that's fine, live your life. But I gotta call him something.
no subject
[Haha. He's just becoming a crab tree, that's fun. And — hmm. Instinct tells him immediately to not blabber around about how God is God to people who haven't been told as much, not out of any kindness to the man himself - whatever! God! - but because, well. There's a bad idea alarm going off in the back of his mind about it, for plenty of reasons.
Pettiness wants to tell. That's for sure. He bites the inside of his cheek, to put that down.]
I was told he needed a couple good necromancers — which is me and the Ninth, ah, skull paint — but then he sent us off to march around out here. I don't get it, personally. He wants to "see the full shape of the thing."
[A shrug. And, after a beat:] You could call him Hey, you.
no subject
Maybe going around collecting crabs is part of seeing the full shape of it. I definitely got that vibe from him either way. The kind of guy who really wants to know everything about the world around him, for, like, whatever reason. [and now she's starting to get into why she was brought along, and this feels a little more natural for her.]
Maybe he wants to tear it all down, or maybe he just wants to meet the gods and see how they react to someone like him. I'm more on that side of things, but, like, hey. I've got people back home that I miss. Wouldn't mind seeing some fireworks if that's the way ol' captain my captain wants to run things.
no subject
Collecting crabs and thinking very hard about squids is, speaking only for myself, a waste of my skills. Not that I'm complaining about being left to my own devices, but I can't shake the feeling that he's not telling us something that could get us immediately killed. Why would he, right?
[Besides the Ninth, and Palamedes has Questions about that, but besides the Ninth, does Captain Emperor give a shit about any of them, personally? They're probably lucky it's just crabs and the occasional rogue tentacle around here.
But never mind that; he weighs the two suggested options, decides he would like more time before someone tears a rift in the world, and settles on Meeting the Gods, to which he says:]
What could possibly be so interesting about more gods? I'm really asking; I don't know what I'd say.
no subject
[the crabs seem taken care of so far, so she douses the flame on her blade with seemingly just her own will and lowers the katana to her side.]
You can't see the benefits in getting in good with gods? Making yourself, like, a known thing? Sure, you gotta do some research ahead of time to make sure you're not just gonna be pissing them off, but if you put yourself out there to the right people, you might end up with an advantage when shit all starts shattering around us. [there is such confidence in the way she expresses that idea that can only come from experience.]
And I'm sure it's gonna start shattering. Maybe not this early, but it will. And then we'll meet the new face-painted clown gods, who I'm pretty sure are what juggalos worship, but I'm no jugglologist.
no subject
I can think of a few benefits to ingratiating yourself with the gods, sure. There's a saying where I'm from, 'truth over solace in lies.' I'm not really interested in buttering up some gods for the sake of a maybe someday. It'd leave a bad taste in my mouth.
[He shrugs one shoulder, rearranging his crab-free cloak. Sure, he could kiss god ass, that wouldn't be super hard, he's pretty sure — but it would be dishonest, and, well. The Saying. That, and he'd rather spend the energy of kissing ass doing something - anything else.]
Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying it's a bad idea. But it's not really for me.
no subject
[she is joking and hopefully that much is obvious from, well, everything about her by now. she's more than capable of taking the expedition seriously, but that doesn't mean she can't have fun with it.]
I guess I'm just kind of used to it. That's how the world worked back where I'm from, depending on your definition of god.
no subject
[This he punctuates with a head-and-shoulders mock bow, for emphasis; he can roll with the jokes. He'll enjoy his metaphorical peanuts when the time comes, no matter.]
How many definitions of god are there? Genuine question; you've done this before? I mean, broadly speaking...
no subject
So like. Yes, obviously, I've done this kind of thing before. Different stakes every time, though. Sometimes you get a boss who thinks he's a god, like at some shitty call center job where you're fighting tooth and nail just to make it to the end of your shift. You gotta do what it takes to make your life better. [just for the drama of it all, she cuts her hand and lights her sword again. it's still fire, but it doesn't burn half as strong. it's still enough to frighten the crabs.]
And then sometimes you just find some guy who thinks he's a god. And he comes up with this plan, right? To decide which souls are strong enough to live in his new world. And anyone else, well. He says they'd be a waste of his precious resources because they can't serve enough of a purpose. So he lets them die.
[she angles her blade down towards what appears to be a nest.]
No. Worse. He chokes the world out, day by day, for years. The ones who endure are the ones he keeps. The ones who don't... well. [and she pulls back her sword so it's nothing more than a torch.] But he never banked on souls like us having lives of our own that we knew were more precious than any utopia he thought he could make.
no subject
[A bad boss put up against some wannabe god choking the world? Maybe they should just fight it out, save everyone else the trouble. Palamedes considers; he doesn't disagree with the defense of one's own life and soul, but—]
I'm getting the distinct impression defending your own lives involves more direct conflict than kissing god ass. [And he holds up a hand, ahem,] This isn't a gotcha, don't get me wrong; but I think we can agree that some so-called gods aren't worth the effort it would take to butter them up, for one reason or another. Hmm?
[Hmm??? Perhaps????]
no subject
Listen, listen. I know they're the most different thing in the world. But I also know that if I didn't take the time to get to know the rest of that second guy's little makeshift pantheon, maybe I wouldn't be standing where I am right now. [next to a guy who is frankly being far too gracious with her and her colorful retellings of history.] Only way to know which gods are worth paying even attention to is by getting the answers yourself, I think. You don't start with the ingratiation.
no subject
[Like, somebody has to kill a god at the end of this, don't they? Is that not how these things go? Palamedes can't imagine a plan he'd actually participate in in which "kiss the ring" is the last step, so — surely, somebody kills a god at the end. Assuming they deserve it.]
Either way. We're just mucking around with crabs and mud, here. I don't think I enjoyed being put through the emotional wringer a few weeks ago, but what are your thoughts on this pantheon?
no subject
So I don't think there's, like, a ton of them out to throw us through hell. I think Moss King might do it just for fun, but I already know I don't like that guy. Honestly, a lot of the ones in Trench just seem like normal people? [her longcoat moves with her shoulders as she shrugs.] Like, powers of gods, sure, but Cloverfield is just this big lonely guy, Tower is basically a muse, and Never Mind is this hyper-involved professor dude, you know?
I'm not really bothered by most of them. But I haven't met all of them yet. The only ones I think will be anything to worry about are Moss King, Mother Mercy, and... well. Our host out here in the middle of cold wet salt crab hell. You got any thoughts of your own on them?
no subject
[He waves a hand, like, well — never mind. Ha ha.]
I haven't met any of them personally, I don't — know if I want to. Like I said, I don't know what I'd say. [He shrugs, then,] Is 'Mother Mercy' supposed to be an ironic name?
no subject
I'm still fuzzy on the details, but all the people I can ask seem pretty fuzzy on it, too. If I had to guess, yeah, it's probably ironic. But you're not really supposed to be able to understand gods the way you understand humans, right? They just operate on a totally different level from the rest of us.
no subject
[But he's heard just enough about The Place, Deerington to guess that it's the before; he hasn't delved into history yet, what with all the present demanding careful attention.
He wrinkles his nose and shrugs, though, distasteful like she's waved a foul-smelling something at him instead of said this thing about gods.]
Do they? [ehhhh.] Well, Mother Mercy sounds like the most interesting one yet, if you ask me. Is she around? I might want to say hi to her.
no subject
[this is just speculation, just stories she's heard, but she's pretty sure that stories have a lot of power here. and that they're probably a hundred percent correct.]
If you do something to wrong someone bad enough, I've heard that that's when she shows up. She'll make you apologize to them and make it right with them, one way or another. Kind of like what J-man wants his followers to do back home, but she seems a lot more... malevolent about it.
no subject
[Well, less than ideal. He doesn't really intend to do that, unless, like, littering or something counts? Can he purposely litter for an audience?]
I'll work something out, I guess. Wrong is wrong even with a knowing collaborator, hmm? There are possibilities. Options.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)