“My mother once told me, ‘Shura, the world is cruel place. It smells, it is dirty, it’s nothing but a sinking ship.’ Then she just laughed and shooed me on my way. I was ten, and this was the last time I saw her alive, poor woman…but my princess, my little Tsumai I plan to change this. Yes, I, your aunt, even others in this slowly decaying ship plan to change it, even save it. But my little princess we must move one step at a time, and the time has come for the Daius people to learn a little lesson…in…survival…Ahahaha!”
Shura walked slowly, a small child in his arms, her small arms tightly wrapped around him as she drifted off to sleep, the man rocking her up and down, swaying her, filling her head with sweet thoughts as he hummed. It had only been a year since this “blessing” had come to Shura, the man overjoyed, tearful even when he laid eyes on his daughter, his flesh and blood. She was so peaceful looking, innocent, even when he couldn’t see her or hear her, he thought of her. She was always on his mind, her and his future. He had not yet come to terms with losing the girl’s mother, he still wept in the morning hours of the day, chanting her name and scratching her name and love poems on his wall, his closet practically littered with etching made with his own nails or anything sharp he could wrap his crusted, tiring hands. The wars had stopped, finally. Daius was at its peak, stretching past the frozen wasteland of the “glorious homeland”. The Daius species were feared respected, admired. Yet still seen as “alien”, still blinded by human feelings…human traits and it disgusted Shura, the man snarling under his breath as he placed the sleeping girl in a small bed.
He stood back, leaning against the pink and white coloured walls, flower patterns decorating the wallpaper he had personally picked for her. He had never taken the time to admire all his hard work on what he called “the sanctuary”. It was a large room, filled with toys, clothing, pictures, and anything else the girl fancied at this young age. He had gotten the very best for the girl; even her blankets made of the finest vicuña fabric and dyed a vibrant Tyrian purple. Her clothes were either silk or cotton, her playthings toys that any regular children would have to wait decades for. The paintings were all personal, original works by some of the best and most wildly known artists in all of Daius, even the music she listened to was personally crafted just for her. The girl was spoiled beyond belief, yet Shura took pride in it, calling it good parenting as he smiled and walked out of the warm rugged room, stepping unto the cold marble, his bare feet chilling quickly with the change of temperature, goose bumps forming on his forearms. He grew used to it, the shining white coat of snow warming him up in a strange way as he folding his hands behind his back and walked, humming to himself.
He inhaled sharply, a smile covering his pasty grey skin that had been scratched and bitten multiple times by his child. He did not notice the paint though, going on as he nodded to the passing slaves and servants, seemingly forgetting his hatred of humans. Yet he continued on, passing into his personal quarters, locking the door behind him as he fell to his knees, the plush carpet warming him up, the fireplace in the left corner crackling and filling the room with life. He scurried across the white rug like a rat, dragging a large suitcase from the corner, knocking over dresses and pulling large clumps of clothing and supplies from his closet and bathroom, servants gathering at his door at the ruckus, the man ignoring them. He frantically ripped open the suitcase, stuffing as many cloths, bathroom items and other random things as he could into the suitcase, zipping it up when he was satisfied, the man answering the servants nonchalantly.
“Sir, what was that?” They knew he would not answer, for he never spoke except when it was necessary, yet the man took in a breath, smiled and spoke up for once, the crowd of servants shocked and confused, their mouths gaping open.
“I’m fine Rosy, Mike, Jon. Really I am…I…I just was dancing is all. Why don’t you all take a break? A little vacation.” They all dispersed quickly after that, smiling, even shouting or cheering a bit as they ran away like mice or other vermin. Shura waved them off, slowly slinking back into his room, snidely smiling before sneering when he knew he was not being watched and he could not be heard. He muttered to himself “Stupid humans.” walking in circles as he prepared and waited for the next phase to begin. The man chanting the words of his deceased love Sio on his lips, the mother of his daughter still holding a place in his heart, each mention of her name sweetening the taste in his mouth. “Sio…Sio, Sio, Sio Sio Sio SioSIoSioSio….”
Sian trotted into the room, Shura waiting impatiently for her, an annoyed look on his face, the woman only shrugging and flicking her hand at him, ready to get this over with. Sian was becoming less and less of a leader with each passing day, handing most of the responsibility to Shura, the woman spending most of her time (and money) in the streets of Deus, dancing, drinking, smoking, doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to do it. In a way, she was more of force and will behind this particular city, for she loved the people and the people loved her back. It made Shura positively sick. But he had better things to worry about now, the frantic leader picking up his large suitcase and handing it to Sian who took a quick look, scanning it over quickly and opened the door, handed it to a slave who had been tailing her. Shura sighed, shaking his head as he bolted past his sister and the slave, knocking the short little man on his backside, the groaning human creating a feeling of dread in Shura’s stomach as he quickly ran, counting under his breath.
He again pushed through a pair of slaves, knocking them over, one of them smacking their head against the corner of the wall with a loud *crack* , small drips of what looked like blood or even bone, leaking out of the wounded slave, the other, lesser humans crowding around. Shura did not care, he sprinted towards his daughter’s door, stopping in front of the large, polished oak door, breathing and gaining his stability again, opening the door slowly, smiling at the sleeping baby who he shook gently, waking her up with a smooth flow of things. The girl batted her eyelashes, looking up at her father with unnaturally eerie black iris in her eyes. She smiled at him as all babies do, clawing for him, and attaching herself unto him tightly as he leaned in, giving her a quick kiss and picking her up, holding her tight. He called for a slave, a tall, lean, skinny woman coming to his aid. “Hey! Human! Pack up her clothing, her toys, her golden music box and her Ilus-Lya-Yvul. NOW!” he yelled at the woman, the slave jumping with fright at his bellowing voice, quickly doing as he commanded and packing the assortment of items into a suitcase stashed in the corner.
He nodded his head in the direction of Sian and her accompanying slave, the two of them pushing past the crowd who had gathered around the bleeding slave. Shura shushed and hummed to his daughter who was becoming ever more agitated, the man wrapping her in her purple blanket before moving forward with his party. The party of five pushed past the crowd, making their way up a flight of steps, Sian picking up her own suitcase, strapping it too her back as she walked slowly up the steps, her shoes clicking against it. “Dam—Dang it! I forgot my slippers. Um…You, child, kid, go get my slippers, the blue ones next to the door of my quarters.” He yelled out to a child slave who was sweeping down the steps, the young boy shaking his head and running to retrieve the item for his master, the kid returning a few moments later, slippers in hand, the boy placing the slippers just in front of Shura who slipped into them, smiling as they continued up the stairs. Shura continued to hum to his daughter, the girl in a daze at all the action.
Moments passed as the party of five finally burst onto the roof, a large, helicopter whooping in front of them, Shura frantically covering his daughter’s ears, barring his teeth and growling angrily as the girl shrieked in pain and fright at the sound. They moved closer and closer to the whooping helicopter, stumbling into it quickly, Shura placing earphones hung around the seats of the aircraft on his daughter, the girl still shrieking, the man frantically swaying her, trying to calm her down. Yet to no avail, the girl continued to scream like a banshee, tears streaking down her face. Shura flipped a switch, turning on music for the girl, the baby child calming down as music poured in from the earphones, the helicopter whooping louder and louder, swift rising in the air, taking off and moving to the North West. Shura placed his daughter down in a specially made crib, standing to his feet, the magnetically sealed doors good enough protection for him as he made his way to the cockpit, punching the pilot in the nose, yelling out “You fucking bastard! Don’t you ever hurt my kid like that again! Hear me?! I’ll fucking kill you if you do!” The pilot only nodded, his nose bleeding horribly, the pilot’s aid trying to clean it up for him as Shura walked back to his sit, sitting in front of Sian who was in shock, the two slaves mingling between themselves in that barbaric language of English.
“We’re late Sian. Very late. Regardless, all we need has been moved to a new location. The slave, the supplies, all of it is already there. The place is cold enough for us to live very comfortably, but still warm enough for us to grow corps…Phew, we still have a large abundance of our snow crops for use just in case. All we need to do now is waiting, watch and see where this takes us.” Shura muttered out slowly to his sister, sniffing as the cold air chilled him.
Sian twiddled her thumbs, looking out of the window, uninterested with it all, a faint tone of sarcasm and distrust rising in her voice. “It’s a real shame we have to leave all this. We’ll be short, the majority of our workfor..”
“No, the entirety of the military has been moved; a large majority of the slave force has also been moved. All of the necessary things are there, food, fauna, flora, even the major, higher ups have agreed to this, most of them already there. Official counts say 15....”
“Thousand?!”
“No no, million . Apparently, our estimate was wrong. Adding the slave force and the military, we have about a population of 20-30 million. But that’s neither here nor there. We’re fine, all of us. Let’s just go to sleep now…”
Shura sat in his chair, looking out at the sunset, the raising moons comforting him as he held his daughter in his arms, talking to the girl who seemed to pay actual attention. Sian was sleeping, her loud, agitating snores unsettling the man, the slaves also sleeping like animals in a foetus position. Shura smiled down at the child, rubbing her dark hair, kissing her forehead slowly and tenderly, pressing his lips as if they left an actual mark on her. Yet they did not, it was only figurative, yet the man loved the girl more than anything else in the natural world. She embodied everything that he yearned for, perfection, purity, peace, all of it wrapped into this little body. And he loved her immensely for it.
“My mother once told me, ‘Shura, the world is cruel place. It smells, it is dirty, it’s nothing but a sinking ship.’ Then she just laughed and shooed me on my way. I was ten, and this was the last time I saw her alive, poor woman…but my princess, my little Tsumai I plan to change this. Yes, I, your aunt, even others in this slowly decaying ship plan to change it, even save it. But my little princess we must move one step at a time, and the time has come for the Daius people to learn a little lesson…in…survival…"
He ecked out the words, smiling devilishly at the girl, counting slowly “5…4…3…2...” And then in an instant it happened. A flash of light, multiple booming and crackling sounds as nuclear and biological weapons exploded simultaneously around Lyra Daius, destroying almost everything and almost anything, leaving nothing but poison dust in its path. Shura crackled like an old man, laughing evilly at the destruction, the girl only smiling at his joy, frightened by the sounds. It was the beginning of a new day, a new Lyra Daius. “The old must be destroyed, wiped out for the new, the perfect, the ideal! My little princess you shall inherit a perfect empire! And soon…oh soon my love, there, will, be…peeeace.”
***
[Three Hours Earlier]
[Three Hours Earlier]
Shura walked slowly, a small child in his arms, her small arms tightly wrapped around him as she drifted off to sleep, the man rocking her up and down, swaying her, filling her head with sweet thoughts as he hummed. It had only been a year since this “blessing” had come to Shura, the man overjoyed, tearful even when he laid eyes on his daughter, his flesh and blood. She was so peaceful looking, innocent, even when he couldn’t see her or hear her, he thought of her. She was always on his mind, her and his future. He had not yet come to terms with losing the girl’s mother, he still wept in the morning hours of the day, chanting her name and scratching her name and love poems on his wall, his closet practically littered with etching made with his own nails or anything sharp he could wrap his crusted, tiring hands. The wars had stopped, finally. Daius was at its peak, stretching past the frozen wasteland of the “glorious homeland”. The Daius species were feared respected, admired. Yet still seen as “alien”, still blinded by human feelings…human traits and it disgusted Shura, the man snarling under his breath as he placed the sleeping girl in a small bed.
He stood back, leaning against the pink and white coloured walls, flower patterns decorating the wallpaper he had personally picked for her. He had never taken the time to admire all his hard work on what he called “the sanctuary”. It was a large room, filled with toys, clothing, pictures, and anything else the girl fancied at this young age. He had gotten the very best for the girl; even her blankets made of the finest vicuña fabric and dyed a vibrant Tyrian purple. Her clothes were either silk or cotton, her playthings toys that any regular children would have to wait decades for. The paintings were all personal, original works by some of the best and most wildly known artists in all of Daius, even the music she listened to was personally crafted just for her. The girl was spoiled beyond belief, yet Shura took pride in it, calling it good parenting as he smiled and walked out of the warm rugged room, stepping unto the cold marble, his bare feet chilling quickly with the change of temperature, goose bumps forming on his forearms. He grew used to it, the shining white coat of snow warming him up in a strange way as he folding his hands behind his back and walked, humming to himself.
He inhaled sharply, a smile covering his pasty grey skin that had been scratched and bitten multiple times by his child. He did not notice the paint though, going on as he nodded to the passing slaves and servants, seemingly forgetting his hatred of humans. Yet he continued on, passing into his personal quarters, locking the door behind him as he fell to his knees, the plush carpet warming him up, the fireplace in the left corner crackling and filling the room with life. He scurried across the white rug like a rat, dragging a large suitcase from the corner, knocking over dresses and pulling large clumps of clothing and supplies from his closet and bathroom, servants gathering at his door at the ruckus, the man ignoring them. He frantically ripped open the suitcase, stuffing as many cloths, bathroom items and other random things as he could into the suitcase, zipping it up when he was satisfied, the man answering the servants nonchalantly.
“Sir, what was that?” They knew he would not answer, for he never spoke except when it was necessary, yet the man took in a breath, smiled and spoke up for once, the crowd of servants shocked and confused, their mouths gaping open.
“I’m fine Rosy, Mike, Jon. Really I am…I…I just was dancing is all. Why don’t you all take a break? A little vacation.” They all dispersed quickly after that, smiling, even shouting or cheering a bit as they ran away like mice or other vermin. Shura waved them off, slowly slinking back into his room, snidely smiling before sneering when he knew he was not being watched and he could not be heard. He muttered to himself “Stupid humans.” walking in circles as he prepared and waited for the next phase to begin. The man chanting the words of his deceased love Sio on his lips, the mother of his daughter still holding a place in his heart, each mention of her name sweetening the taste in his mouth. “Sio…Sio, Sio, Sio Sio Sio SioSIoSioSio….”
***
[Two hours Earlier]
[Two hours Earlier]
Sian trotted into the room, Shura waiting impatiently for her, an annoyed look on his face, the woman only shrugging and flicking her hand at him, ready to get this over with. Sian was becoming less and less of a leader with each passing day, handing most of the responsibility to Shura, the woman spending most of her time (and money) in the streets of Deus, dancing, drinking, smoking, doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to do it. In a way, she was more of force and will behind this particular city, for she loved the people and the people loved her back. It made Shura positively sick. But he had better things to worry about now, the frantic leader picking up his large suitcase and handing it to Sian who took a quick look, scanning it over quickly and opened the door, handed it to a slave who had been tailing her. Shura sighed, shaking his head as he bolted past his sister and the slave, knocking the short little man on his backside, the groaning human creating a feeling of dread in Shura’s stomach as he quickly ran, counting under his breath.
He again pushed through a pair of slaves, knocking them over, one of them smacking their head against the corner of the wall with a loud *crack* , small drips of what looked like blood or even bone, leaking out of the wounded slave, the other, lesser humans crowding around. Shura did not care, he sprinted towards his daughter’s door, stopping in front of the large, polished oak door, breathing and gaining his stability again, opening the door slowly, smiling at the sleeping baby who he shook gently, waking her up with a smooth flow of things. The girl batted her eyelashes, looking up at her father with unnaturally eerie black iris in her eyes. She smiled at him as all babies do, clawing for him, and attaching herself unto him tightly as he leaned in, giving her a quick kiss and picking her up, holding her tight. He called for a slave, a tall, lean, skinny woman coming to his aid. “Hey! Human! Pack up her clothing, her toys, her golden music box and her Ilus-Lya-Yvul. NOW!” he yelled at the woman, the slave jumping with fright at his bellowing voice, quickly doing as he commanded and packing the assortment of items into a suitcase stashed in the corner.
He nodded his head in the direction of Sian and her accompanying slave, the two of them pushing past the crowd who had gathered around the bleeding slave. Shura shushed and hummed to his daughter who was becoming ever more agitated, the man wrapping her in her purple blanket before moving forward with his party. The party of five pushed past the crowd, making their way up a flight of steps, Sian picking up her own suitcase, strapping it too her back as she walked slowly up the steps, her shoes clicking against it. “Dam—Dang it! I forgot my slippers. Um…You, child, kid, go get my slippers, the blue ones next to the door of my quarters.” He yelled out to a child slave who was sweeping down the steps, the young boy shaking his head and running to retrieve the item for his master, the kid returning a few moments later, slippers in hand, the boy placing the slippers just in front of Shura who slipped into them, smiling as they continued up the stairs. Shura continued to hum to his daughter, the girl in a daze at all the action.
Moments passed as the party of five finally burst onto the roof, a large, helicopter whooping in front of them, Shura frantically covering his daughter’s ears, barring his teeth and growling angrily as the girl shrieked in pain and fright at the sound. They moved closer and closer to the whooping helicopter, stumbling into it quickly, Shura placing earphones hung around the seats of the aircraft on his daughter, the girl still shrieking, the man frantically swaying her, trying to calm her down. Yet to no avail, the girl continued to scream like a banshee, tears streaking down her face. Shura flipped a switch, turning on music for the girl, the baby child calming down as music poured in from the earphones, the helicopter whooping louder and louder, swift rising in the air, taking off and moving to the North West. Shura placed his daughter down in a specially made crib, standing to his feet, the magnetically sealed doors good enough protection for him as he made his way to the cockpit, punching the pilot in the nose, yelling out “You fucking bastard! Don’t you ever hurt my kid like that again! Hear me?! I’ll fucking kill you if you do!” The pilot only nodded, his nose bleeding horribly, the pilot’s aid trying to clean it up for him as Shura walked back to his sit, sitting in front of Sian who was in shock, the two slaves mingling between themselves in that barbaric language of English.
“We’re late Sian. Very late. Regardless, all we need has been moved to a new location. The slave, the supplies, all of it is already there. The place is cold enough for us to live very comfortably, but still warm enough for us to grow corps…Phew, we still have a large abundance of our snow crops for use just in case. All we need to do now is waiting, watch and see where this takes us.” Shura muttered out slowly to his sister, sniffing as the cold air chilled him.
Sian twiddled her thumbs, looking out of the window, uninterested with it all, a faint tone of sarcasm and distrust rising in her voice. “It’s a real shame we have to leave all this. We’ll be short, the majority of our workfor..”
“No, the entirety of the military has been moved; a large majority of the slave force has also been moved. All of the necessary things are there, food, fauna, flora, even the major, higher ups have agreed to this, most of them already there. Official counts say 15....”
“Thousand?!”
“No no, million . Apparently, our estimate was wrong. Adding the slave force and the military, we have about a population of 20-30 million. But that’s neither here nor there. We’re fine, all of us. Let’s just go to sleep now…”
***
[Current Time]
[Current Time]
Shura sat in his chair, looking out at the sunset, the raising moons comforting him as he held his daughter in his arms, talking to the girl who seemed to pay actual attention. Sian was sleeping, her loud, agitating snores unsettling the man, the slaves also sleeping like animals in a foetus position. Shura smiled down at the child, rubbing her dark hair, kissing her forehead slowly and tenderly, pressing his lips as if they left an actual mark on her. Yet they did not, it was only figurative, yet the man loved the girl more than anything else in the natural world. She embodied everything that he yearned for, perfection, purity, peace, all of it wrapped into this little body. And he loved her immensely for it.
“My mother once told me, ‘Shura, the world is cruel place. It smells, it is dirty, it’s nothing but a sinking ship.’ Then she just laughed and shooed me on my way. I was ten, and this was the last time I saw her alive, poor woman…but my princess, my little Tsumai I plan to change this. Yes, I, your aunt, even others in this slowly decaying ship plan to change it, even save it. But my little princess we must move one step at a time, and the time has come for the Daius people to learn a little lesson…in…survival…"
He ecked out the words, smiling devilishly at the girl, counting slowly “5…4…3…2...” And then in an instant it happened. A flash of light, multiple booming and crackling sounds as nuclear and biological weapons exploded simultaneously around Lyra Daius, destroying almost everything and almost anything, leaving nothing but poison dust in its path. Shura crackled like an old man, laughing evilly at the destruction, the girl only smiling at his joy, frightened by the sounds. It was the beginning of a new day, a new Lyra Daius. “The old must be destroyed, wiped out for the new, the perfect, the ideal! My little princess you shall inherit a perfect empire! And soon…oh soon my love, there, will, be…peeeace.”
OOC: As you can see, the former Lyra Daius has been nuked. Reply as you wish.
