NATION

PASSWORD

Sideways to the Suns (Maintenance, possible mature content)

Where nations come together and discuss matters of varying degrees of importance. [In character]
User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Sideways to the Suns (Maintenance, possible mature content)

Postby Reixia » Sat Sep 21, 2019 11:23 am

(This is a maintenance thread, and it may contain mature content)


Things are different, there. This is the first thing those who visit the Five Courts notice.

It isn't so much that cause and effect don't follow, but that there are causes, and then there are causes. An apple falls from a tree. Gravity in action, perhaps. But what you did not see was the one that willed the apple's stem to snap, or that catches the apple in mid-flight, on a swift breeze, and sends it flying into his hand. All perfectly natural, if an unusual coincidence.

Coincidences are the coin of the realm here. Million-to-one chances happen nine times out of ten.

Some call it magic. And it is, perhaps. But it is closer to cheating. Cheating at the cards that reality deals. A Reixan always has an ace up his sleeve and a whole deck in his pocket. Probability and possibility are just words here.

It is pleasant to be a master here. Not so much to be a servant. For, when it comes down to it, what is a servant but another variable? What is a mind, but a series of impulses that can be changed? That will be changed? And for those Reixanxi whose blood lies thicker than others, whose essence is closest to that of their immortal ancestors, what is another Reixan but just another servant?

You might think them cruel. And perhaps they can be. But it is cruelty tempered by bouts of generosity. Or you might think them unduly generous. But it is generosity balanced by cruelty unimaginable. But they are the Lords of their Realm, and you may know them by their titles. It is good, perhaps, that the thick lashing of alien blood that burns in their veins renders them incapable of focussing on the concerns of the moment. Keeps their minds on the far and distant, rather than the here and now. For the most part, at least.

Pity those who are otherwise. For they are granted all the powers of their ancestors save the one; that which wards off death. And they are free to dwell on this failing for untold centuries.

Pity them. And fear them.
Last edited by Reixia on Wed Oct 23, 2019 11:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Wed Sep 25, 2019 12:22 pm

There are laws written upon the soul of every Reixan at their coming of age, bound to them by mighty oaths. They can no more break these laws then they can go without oxygen.


(1) The Word of the Emperor is the First Law
(2) Always Tell the Truth.
(3) Be Fair to your Brother and Sister
(4) Never Kill with a Word
(5) The Will of the Emperor is the Last Law


These laws are the only laws the Reixanxi consider themselves bound by, as distinct from their servants, who are bound by a thousand and one laws that change with the seasons and seem more written to amuse their writers than to serve the people.

They are also, for the most part, worthless. For the question of the spirit of the law is not one that occurs to the average Reixan. They consider themselves only ever bound by the letter of any law and any contract, and how far they take that always depends on how they feel about the person they are responsible to. Let's consider every Law in order, and we will see its flaws, especially for those not fortunate enough to be Reixanxi.

(1)The Word of the Emperor is the First Law
For when does the Emperor speak? And to whom?
(2)Always Tell the Truth
It does not say always be specific in your meaning
(3)Be Fair to your Brother and Sister
Mortals are not my kin
(4)Never Kill with a Word
Keep a weapon handy and the situation will not arise
(5)The Will of the Emperor is the Last Law
Fortunate are those who know the will of the Emperor. The rest of us have to guess

This is not to say that there is no safety in negotiations with a Reixan. Reixan are, by and large, no more perfidious and malevolent then most sentient beings. And those that are perfidious and malevolent don't consider themselves bound by these laws anymore than they do anything else.
Last edited by Reixia on Wed Sep 25, 2019 12:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Hall of the Flames, Eidaz, Court of Silver and Gold

Postby Reixia » Sat Oct 05, 2019 3:20 pm

The boy looked up at the gateway, and the arcane fire that crackled along its runes. Even from this distance, he could feel the intense magical energy that marked the boundary between childhood and adulthood.He had but to step through the fire and his body would be reshaped to match his soul, and he would finally come into his own, taking the form he would wear for the centuries to come.

Tamlin had not come to this point alone, of course. His friends and family waited on the other side. Not that Kaelen could see them; the path forward through the waters of life was closed until he passed through the fires of change. He took a few shallow breaths, and stretched his arms. He knew Soren had already passed through the fire, no doubt without even a thought or care. But Tamlin had always been the more cautious of the pair, and his cautiousness dominated him now. Cautiousness and fear.

What it was like to pass through the fires was never discussed by the Reixanxi. His parents had only told him that it would be liberating as his power and soul were made his flesh, free from that which made him akin to mortals. But to the young Reixan, that sounded awfully like dying. And he feared death, as all mortals feared death. But the time of change had come upon him. And already he had sworn to uphold the Laws, and been stripped of his clothing by the silent priests that managed this temple.

He looked up at the gate for a final time.Yes, no doubt Soren had passed through the fire without fear. He had always been brave, and he had of course been brave here, casting off his clothes freely and entering the ritual chamber without needing to be prompted. Tamlin was sure that even now Soren mocked him to their friends, mockery that would grow worse if he continued to delay.

And Tamlin had no choice in the matter, either. There was no refusing the change, and he could not back out now. The door behind him had sealed itself into the wall. The only way out was forward, through the fire and the water.

He took a deep breath, his last as a mortal, and stepped forward. And stepped through, feeling the prickling heat and warmth of the fire reach through him. And it felt like he was on fire... no, it felt like he was fire. He fell into the water, and it was as though he was the water. He washed upon the shore, and he was the earth, and a wind blew through him, and he was the wind, and then there was a bolt of lightning, and fire and water and earth and wind combined, and she felt.

She felt her wings beat with each beat of her heart. She felt the weave of the world, as she had not felt it before, feeling the north and the south and the east and the west and her place at its center, at her center, for she was her own lodestone, until she took a husband, and then they would be each other's guide, and warmth flared through her at the thought of uniting her soul with another, as her mother had united with her father.

And she landed upon the cool stone of the chamber, and felt again; Felt the weight of her quintessentially feminine body as she clothed herself in flesh once more; felt her long hair fall to her wide hips, felt her heavy breasts succumb to the pull of gravity. And yet she was light and free, fire dancing in the wind, the river flowing through the earth.

She thought of the boy she had been before, and laughed, and her laughter was the tinkling of bells. What had been there to fear? Yes, she had changed, and she was aware of the change, but she had also not changed, for instead of becoming something else, she had become even more herself. That she was female, and he had been male, seemed scarcely worthy of consideration. To be female was as natural as to be male, and though she was no longer he, she was still the same as she had always been.

She reached out to the world, to the water and fire and earth and air, and pulled upon it. And it responded, for she was no longer mortal, she was a princess of creation, and creation itself was honoured to wait upon her. She called the elements together, and crafted her first dress. And when she was satisfied, she left the chamber where she had been born, not caring for the ashes of her previous life that lay in the water...
Last edited by Reixia on Sun Oct 06, 2019 1:16 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Sun Oct 06, 2019 11:36 pm

Into the fiery orb with ye!

It was not just a mission statement, it was an act of faith. Of religious zeal. Of, ultimately, basic hygiene.

Millennia ago, the Reixanxi had warred with other powers for mastery of the Purple Dragon Enclosure. The hideous Jit. The vicious Rorken. The ugly Silerians. And the perfidious Fumerii. All of them, according to the sagas, monstrous in character and form and even more monstrous in what they did to their servants. But the Reixanxi had won, as was inevitable. Lead by their generals and honoured by the gods themselves, there had been no other possible result. The Reixanxi, victorious, had shaped the galaxy to their merciful will, bringing stability and peace where there had once been chaos and war.

The losers, of course, had been exterminated root and branch. Literally, in the case of the Jit. And, in time, the wounds had healed and the enclosure had settled into quiet. There had been only one fly in the otherwise perfect ointment. Having seen war for thousands of years, there was an awful lot of mess to clean up. Ruins, mostly.

Planetside structures could, of course, be levelled flat. And were. If the Reixanxi didn't take care of it, the surviving locals generally did. It was a matter of pride that by the time a century was out, none of the inhabited planets in the Purple Dragon Enclosure still retained the stamp of their previous masters. Sure, in the odd dark corners and wastelands there might be ruins of unholy and unnatural cyclopean structures, jutting like fangs into the sky, avoided by all right-thinking people. And probably some uninhabited worlds retained some more. But the effort had been made.

Structures in space proved a rather more difficult matter. No one particularly wanted to board the last bastions of the dead races. Just on the offchance that being dead hadn't stopped them. And they had seemed rather touch to destroy with conventional weaponry. But that didn't mean the attempt to destroy them shouldn't be made. Quite the opposite. And so, at some point, a wise figure in the navy of the Five Courts had come up with a brilliant idea: Just push the structures into the nearest star. Or, as we said, Into the Fiery Orb with Ye!

Kaelin Lightblade was proud of his position as captain of the Ship of His Divine Majesty 'Buail na Réaltaí', one of the largest and most powerful ships in the navy. For three thousand years the Buail had used its manipulator beams to arrest, alter, degrade and corrupt the orbits of ancient structures, plunging them into the blazing furnace where they would, at the very least, be sterilized. The Buail na Réaltaí had recently been assigned to clear out a system that was marked for possible colonization: 4e69636520506c616e6574. It would be a perfect place for Reixanxi families to live, once the local detritus was cleared out.

"What do we know?"

"The obstruction is classified as the 'Eternal Labyrinth of the Aranosian Eel Crown' in our books. Dates back approximately fifteen thousand years. Of Fumerii construction... note the asymmetrical lines at the front and rear and the large red 'eye' construct that has been placed off-center, all hallmarks of their 'Eye of Balor' class star fortresses." The First Officer moved down a page. "First scouted by the 'Farðu og skoðaðu' team in the reign of the Emperor Nesar. Marked for destruction by the 'Dimondtaroano', but as you know they were recalled following the... Sun Monster incident."

Kaelin nodded, tugging on one of his long, pointed ears. He turned to the Seer, which was easy, because she was sitting on his lap. "Aesa, what are your thoughts?"

Her eyes flashed blue for a moment. She reached out to the holographic projection of the Eternal Labyrinth, then tapped it at three points. "We'll want to hit here, here and here. That will cause the orbit to degrade, according to the calculations, and it will fall into the sun in approximately three and a half months." Aesa wiggled a little to get a better position on him, then leaned forward once more and spun the projection around, now placing markers. "We'll have approximately twenty minutes to make sure."

"Alright. I want firing solutions in ten minutes, then." Kaelin squeezed a nearby part of his Seer as she got off him. "And then I'll want you in my quarters tonight so we can review them."

"Of course, Captain." She smiled sweetly, before her eyes again began to glow blue as she communed with the crystal that sat between her proud, nearly bare breasts.

"Captain, we have a priority communication coming in..."

"If it's about that shore leave on Cala Siùcairean, I don't know anything about how the marines got into the Hall of the Silent Sisters. And I wasn't even at the tavern when Leocha had her fifteenth drink."

"It's from Farport, Sir. From the Governor."

"What?" Kaelin tried to think. Had he been to Farport recently? Or had any of his crew? Had he offended the governor's house in some way last time he had been back in civilization? No, nothing occurred to him. "On screen."

"Captain! So good to see you!" Daria Greathost appeared on the screen, some parts of her even larger than life. "I trust all is well out in the black sea?" She brushed back her purple hair. The Governor of Farport was sitting back on her chair, her feet up, the camera positioned perfectly to show off her considerable assets... and the large piles of gold and silver pounds that lay about her desk. The Captain could be forgiven for not being able to focus on the money, though. "I've had an unusual request, and I immediately thought of you." Daria was in no position to lean forward, but she did move her body in an interesting fashion.

"Y-yes, of course, Your Excellency." Was the first thing the Captain said, aware of how all the other men in the room were watching the screen and feeling oddly jealous that this moment wasn't his alone. "Anything you ask for."

"Well, it turns out that I've had a rather unusual guest. Name of..." She frowned for a moment and sat up, rummaging through the paperwork on her desk. "Hang on, I've got it here somewhere..." Daria stood up and walked off, her hips swaying like the pendulum on a clock, the camera following her and the captain's eyes going with it. "Where is it... right. Aelrindel nos Fingolfin. From someplace in the lunatic asylum." Meaning the Milky Way. "Minel...something or other, I don't know." She tapped a finger on two perfectly plump lips. "Hang on... hang on... Menelmacar, that was it. Alessa... have you met Alessa? Lovely girl, over on the capital... anyway, she sent him back to me, and I'm sending him to you."

"I'm sorry, Excellency? I don't understand."

"He's some sort of...student, or something." Daria waved a manicured hand dismissively. "He wanted to see some ruin before we pushed it into the sun. At least, I think that's what he wanted. Kept talking about 'loss to history' and 'should be recorded'. What's important is he gave Alessa a decent consideration to be allowed in, and he's given me a decent sum of money to send him on to you, and I'm sure that if you let him board the... whatever it is... he'll be appropriately grateful."

"Excellency, that's not possible! We're preparing to dispose of the abomination right away!" That was, again, the first thing Kaelin said. The second thing Kaelin said, though, was "How grateful?"
Last edited by Reixia on Sun Oct 06, 2019 11:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Tue Oct 08, 2019 2:56 pm

"What seems to be the problem?" Alessa Seahair asked again, feeling overwhelmed. It wasn't that she didn't want to help. If a Reixan could be considered open to the problems that beset non-Reixanxi inhabitants of the Five Courts, Alessa could be considered such. It was why she had been given her job, after all.

"It's simple, pure. Equal pay fur equal wark!" Her current interlocutor was sitting... well, standing... on her desk. He had to, otherwise he would never have been able to look her in the eyes. Sgaoire Gordain was a pixie, after all. Standing barely half a foot tall, blue, and clad in homespun, he seemed as out of place in Alessa's well-decorated and well-built office as was possible without actively seting it on fire. "That's whit we want, an' that's whit we'll hae, and we'll nae be put off by yer havering."

"But... but you're so..." Alessa bit back the word 'small'. It didn't seem appropriate. "I think your salaries are fairly calibrated to your actual needs. It isn't like you need..."

"What's need got tae dae wi' it?" Sgaoire demanded. "Ur ye tellin' me ye need yer million poond salary?"

"I mean, I do invest some of my money in..." Alessa began.

"Nae, ye want yer million poond salary, lassie. But if Ah waur daein' yer job, they'd pay me tois hunder thoosain poonds. Noo teel me 'at that's fair?" Alessa opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again. Sgaoire stomped his foot, which put a small, but noticeable, dent in her desk. "Aye, gonnae-no imitatin' a fesh an' answer me!"

Alessa shook her head, finding refuge in the actual facts of the matter. "I mean, as a scheduled tribe, you aren't exactly..."

"Och, nae! We'll be havin' nane ay 'at! Whit dae ye pay yon pussies?" Sgaoire demanded.

"Excuse me?" Alessa demanded, suddenly feeling her cheeks burn.

"Th' cats, ye big gapin' divit! Loch a body at yer front duir!"

"I'm sorry, what?" Alessa's ears twitched. She wasn't sure what a 'gapin' divit' was, but it hadn't sounded complementary.

Sgaoire coughed, and there was an awkward silence between the two of them for a minute or two before the pixie began again. "Beggin' mah lady's pardon, but Ah ken mah rights .Th' union kens 'er rights. Thes isnae th' auld mirk days. We hae th' reit tae fair pay fur fair wark, an' e'en ye cannae teel me 'at a fifth ay th' pay fur th' sam wark is fair. I've speart ye twice noo, hae Ah nae?"

"I mean, it may not be exactly fair..." Alessa tried again, feeling a pain at the front of her head. "I mean, but it isn't exactly unfair. That is to say..." She, manfully, did her best to square the circle rotating in her head. "Like I said, you hardly have the same expenses as I do... or as a Nmmr does, even..."

"Aye? An' fa ur ye tae teel me whit expenses Ah hae? Ye stoatin big..." .

"Please! Not the desk again!" Alessa begged. With some satisfaction, the pixie gently lowered his stomping leg. "Look, it's just that you're a fifth of the size of us... and when the laws were written, that meant... of course, obviously, things are different now..."

"Ur ye gonnae teel me aam only aboot a fifth as smart as them big moggies, then?" The pixie seemed dangerously close to being offended.

"No, of course not! I'm sure you can do any job as well as a Nmmr..." Alessa made what she thought was a soothing motion with her hands. "I mean, if it means all that much to you, I'm sure we can increase the payscale... to a point..."
Last edited by Reixia on Tue Oct 08, 2019 3:05 pm, edited 5 times in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Sun Oct 13, 2019 2:42 pm

Celwen sighed and smiled, closing her eyes as she nestled herself into her friend's lap. "So... coming of age is coming up." The young Reixan murmured, reaching a hand up to touch his chin. "You're going through it with me, right?"

"Of course." Aenar stroked her cheek, feeling the softness of her flesh.

"Mmm... My mother says that everything will be different when I'm a woman." Celwen sat up and kissed him, immature lips brushing immature lips. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?" Aenar rested his hands on her slightly narrowed waist, just below the rise of her young breasts.

"I can't imagine that I could love you anymore than I already do." She kissed him again. "Sitting here, with you, in my room... it feels like my soul is glowing."

"I never knew I could feel this way." Aenar admitted, drawing her onto his lap and holding her tight. "But I think that after we've gone through, things will be different." He kissed her now. "Loving you now is like a dream. But when we're grown up..."

"We'll be able to do more, but it won't change how I feel about you." Celwen smiled up at him. Their bodies had both changed over the past few years, in preparation for passing through fire and water. She'd rounded out, developing the foundation for the curves that would make Aenar her slave. And he...well, he'd begun growing larger and stronger. And started affecting the beginnings of a moustache and beard, that she now traced her thumb over, giggling at the pinpricks of the faint stubble until he growled and pushed her onto her back. Her giggling grew even louder as she realized the position they were in, him between her legs, his hands on her shoulder, her gentle bosom shaking with her laughter. "Careful, Aenar... think what our mothers would say if they saw this..."

"Saw what, Celwen?" Her mother asked from the door.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

You know who you are; I wouldn't do this for someone else.:P

Postby Reixia » Sun Oct 13, 2019 3:22 pm

"Celwen?" The young Kadrian prince couldn't believe his eyes as he stared at the goddess in front of him. The entire rest of the world seemed to fade away from him.

She smiled at him. She was perfection in and of itself. Large, proud breasts hung from her chest, barely constrained by gravity or the thin silk bra she had thrown on, and when he tried to look elsewhere he didn't have much luck. Her stomach was as flat as a board beneath them, rising only at the gentle hill of her abdomen and wide only where it flowed into her hips, narrow as her shoulders; both seeming made for him to caress. Besides the bra all she had on was a triangular pair of panties, held to her only by a string that bared the pale flesh of her thighs. He had thought her legs beautiful before, when they lay upon the ground. How much longer and more perfect they were now that they seemed only to balance there, as if she was about to break into dance. She was light and heat, the fire she had come through clinging to her, lending her its eternal grace.

As a Kadrian, he had not come through the fire. And the weight of the water now hung about him, though he had thrust it aside with his burgeoning strength. Still, before the love of his life, he felt like he was just made of earth. His feet felt like they had been cast out of clay. When she tilted her head up, telling him to come closer, he was as aware of every stumbling step. Her face seemed born from his dreams. He could see the Celwen he had loved, but she was more than she had been. As he was, but it felt like she had transformed in a way he had not.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he could hear his mother the Empress and his father the Lord of Kadria talking to him. But he didn't, couldn't, hear them. The blood beating in his head wouldn't let him. His hands found Celwen's wide, uncovered, hips. He traced her curves upwards, taking possession of her as her eyes bade him. "From now until the day all bonds are broken, I give my love and my loyalty. I pledge the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup. Yours will be the name I call in the night, and you will be my first sight in the morning. We shall be as shields for each other's back, and at the last, we will ride together. I shall honor you above all, and we shall be forever equals in our marriage."

She smiled and kissed him, and it tasted like a kiss from a rose. Then she spoke, and her words were honey-sweet. "From now until the day all bonds are broken, I give my love and my loyalty. I pledge the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup. Yours will be the name I call in the night, and you will be my first sight in the morning. We shall be as shields for each other's back, and at the last, we will ride together. I shall honor you above all, and we shall be forever equals in our marriage."
Last edited by Reixia on Sun Oct 13, 2019 3:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Tue Oct 15, 2019 9:19 am

Celwen woke at dawn, a soft smile on her face. The fire had burned away her childhood, and she was glad for it. And the night... Her mate shifted in his sleep, and the hand on her breast momentarily tightened. "Aenar..." She gently took his hand and rested it on the pillow. He didn't wake. She wasn't surprised; her mother had prepared her for his exhaustion, as disappointing as it was. She considered going back to sleep herself, and decided against it. Instead she slipped from the bed and walked to the balcony, casting the doors open and letting the red daylight wash down her naked body.

Celwen was pleased with herself. From a mere slip of a girl to a mated and married woman, all in the course of one day. Some of her friends and idols, she knew, had put off becoming wives after their coming of age. They had wanted to work or study or just enjoy as many men as they could before settling down. But from an early age Celwen had known Aenar was her destiny. That was why she had picked him to go through the ceremony with her, rather than another of her friends. That was why she had gone through the fire as soon as the priests would allow it. She had wanted to spend as much time with him as his woman as was physically possible.

The cool dawn breeze off the river sent a shiver through her naked body. She gave it a moment's thought, and called the thin silk nightgown she had briefly worn last night to her. Its slight weight settled around her shoulders and she ventured further onto the balcony. Now that she was a woman, everything felt more real. She could sense the invisible wires of the world around her, and without thinking she closed her eyes and reached out to touch one. She felt, along it, the trees and buildings and river, and all the life that lived amongst them. Without opening her eyes, she did a handstand, then a somersault, landing on the balcony's edge, feeling the thin bar below her without any fear of falling from it. How she had lived for years without having this sense of balance, she no longer knew.

To walk along the length of the balcony without falling, without even opening her eyes, felt as natural as breathing. Or, more to the point, as natural as being with Aenar the previous night had felt. She stepped down and leaned on the balcony's rim, thoughtful, her hand again going to her abdomen. The world was alive with life, and so was she. She wondered if she was pregnant now. She looked over her shoulder at the sleeping prince. If she wasn't, now, she would be soon. She giggled. Aenar would be sure of that.

Celwen wasn't surprised when his arms encircled her and his hand returned, firmly. He had been watching her for five minutes, and she had been aware of every step he had taken. "Hello, Prince Aenar." She murmured, leaning her head back against his chest.

"Hello, Princess Celwen." He kissed the top of her head, one hand reclaiming her breast, the other resting on her hip, both pulling her back towards him. "Are you ready to face the Empress of Kadria?"

"I think I need a bit more stiffening before I can face your mother." She wriggled up against him, grinning at the affect she was having on him. She could feel his heartbeat speed up and the breath in his lungs grow more heated. "Think you can provide it?"
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Thu Oct 17, 2019 1:23 pm

"Everyth'n de light teruches is us kingdom." Hargog was not, by the standards of his people (and what low standards they were, but that's besides the point), a bad person. He tried to be a good father to his six calves. He had never gored someone who had not deserved it, and he had only once eaten someone, and that only because he was really, really hungry.

"Cor, really?"

"A chief's time as ruler rises and falls like de crant bun. One dee, god-forbids, de crant bun wul set ed me time e'yer, and wul rise wi' one o' yous as de nicked chief." Hargog was a gog. Or, to be more precise, Hargog was the Gog. Chief of the Gog tribe of the Vr'ak, the fat walrus people that ruled the icy planet of Hwandoncao, in the Lleofnawdy sector of the Purple Dragon Enclosure. And today, he was introducing his children to their future responsibilities.

"And this wul all be mine?" His eldest son, Maigog, looked around in awe. "Dat is, if Am de chief?"

"Everyth'n." Hargog rumbled, approvingly. That was what he wanted to see. Greed. Greed was, second to weight, the most important virtue the Gogs taught their children; children needed to know to take what was theirs, or else they'd never make it in the winter.

"Everyth'n de light teruches... wa' about dat shadowy place?" His firstborn, his daughter, Liagog pointed down across the way. Her siblings looked the same way. There was a shadowy place, where the distant light of Hwandoncao's red sun barely touched.

"Yeah, wa' about it?"

"Is dat os tew?"

"Dat is beyond us borders. Yous must na bowl thuz." Hargog considered this sentence, then added to it, "Else I'll belt yous one." He idly reached out and in a paternal fashion clouted the nearest child around the ear hole. Since Vr'ak have absurdly thick heads, this was registered as little more than a friendly pat. "Ay 'ope yer listen'n."

"Yis, da." The calves all said in unison.

"'ey, a basil belly la'! Yer brother's e'yer!" Came the call from down below, in the igloo town where the gogs lived. Hargog's chief wife, who weighed nearly 400 stone, stood there, her flabby hands on her hips. "Didn't yous wanna meet 'im? Bright, stop play'n around and get down e'yer!"

"Or'rite, ay wul be rite down, love." Hargog looked around his children, chose one at random, and clipped him around the ears. "Wa' ay you's lot stand'n around fe? Yer uncle's e'yer. Let's bowl!"


Very few of the vr'ak made their way from their icy worlds. There had been their first licensed colony on the planet Chìmim’anail, and since then other tribes had migrated to other worlds, but most of the vra'k lived much as their grandfathers did. And then there was... "Inugog!"

"Big kidda!"

The two bulls ran at each other at top speed, and collided with a slap that resounded off the nearby cliffs and caused small avalanches. As was traditional, Hargog gave his little brother a face punching that didn't even leave a bruise, and Inugog slapped his big brother across the belly a few times, before they locked tusks and wrestled. When the ceremonial obligations were met, Hargog helped Inugog to his feet. "Yous 'uv gottun soft." The chief said approvingly.

"Nah, nah, not as much as yous." Inugog patted his brother's massive belly approvingly. "Whuz ay de god-forbids?" His niece and nephew waved from behind their observing mothers. Inugog gasped. "Gerron yous lot, you're all so 'eavy!"

"Ta, unkill!" They chorused. "Wa' did yous br'n us?"

"And dee ay so greedy! Kidda, yous did a sound as a pound job rais'n dem." Inugog felt in his travel bag for a few minutes, then produced his bounty. There were buckets, spinning tops, and a pile of Reixanxi sweet candies. The younglings immediately squealed in approval and jumped upon the presents, and promptly began fighting eachother for the best bucket ( a shiny red one).

"Nah, nah, me wives deserve all de credit. Dee raised de liddle ones rite." Hargog slapped his brother on the shoulder, then waited for the pounds of fat to stop rolling. "Come inside and tell us about yer big job as a scuffer, why dun yous?"


"Bright, as ay said in me ledder, ay made captain." Inugog said later, over a massive mound of fish and a roaring fire. "De pointies, dey say dat ay am a credit ter me uniform and tree times as effective as a brick wall, because ay tinnie grab dem dat needs grabb'n."

"Da' always said yous would be sound as a pound at anyth'n yous set yer mind ter." Hargog said, approvingly. "Ay 'ope you're show'n de fairies 'ow a proper fella deals wi' 'ewks."

"Thuz wuz some up ther shute around me knock'n a 'ole in wall, but dee said it doesn't matti because 'de prisoner confessed once 'e woke up'." The Gog tribe nodded approvingly. That was how you were meant to deal with lawbreakers. Find the nearest wall and throw them into it. It was good to see the fairies understood how it worked as well as proper people, even if they were disappointingly skinny. "De commissioner said dat so long as dee wake up eventually, ay should be allowed ter do things de way ay think."

"'ow is dat feller o' yos? gain'n weight, ay 'ope."

"Oh, yis, eez nearly as big as one o' us now. 'e wanted ter come, but 'e needed ter blimp afti Corporal Fozzington. 'e sends 'is best, 'e does."
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Temple of the Light, private chambers of the Father Confesso

Postby Reixia » Wed Oct 23, 2019 12:06 am

The coming of age ceremonies for the day were finally finished, and the temple was being locked down. It was the perfect time for Azaen Faeblood, Father Confessor of the temple, to perform his meditations. Often, people said that Azaen was devoted to his faith. So devoted was he that he had never taken a wife, reserving all his time and energy for his role as leader of the faithful.

And all of this was true.

All that was wrong was the question of who he was devoted to.

Azaen knelt before his private altar and spoke a few words "M͟as̢t̶e̛r, I̛ atten҉d.̶ ͞I̶ ҉aw͢a̶it͢.̴ ͟I am͞ h͡eŕe." In form, it was much like all the altars of the Temple of the Light, though much smaller. Like all the altars, it could open to reveal the holy fire blazing within, that was never allowed to go out. The flames glowed alternately gold and silver, at least under normal conditions, and the Reixanxi never seemed to understand that this was an unusual colour for a fire. It was hardly a natural flame. The flame in Azaen's altar was a much more natural colour, at least at first. "A̶̭̤͓͘ͅͅr̠̹̰̠͖̣͢ḑ̝̥̫t͓̳̫́͢u͍̗͈͟ŕ̡̤̯ ̣́Ǹ̷̤͕̝̤͖̀à̸̱̖͉͜ŗ̵̶̲͓á̛͉̞̺̲̥̞͍̟n̯̺͓̟͇͈y͜͟͏̪̫̭é͓̼͖̻̕ͅͅ!̸̜̖̝̜̲̜"

The flames flickered, and then became purple. There was a cracking sound, the sound of ice breaking in the far north, the sound of an ancient corpse rising from its shelf and walking. And the face of that corpse appeared above the flames. The skin hung tight about aristocratic bones. Only the eyes seemed to live. They were as black as coals, but within them stars seemed to spiral and die.S̢͏̞͖̹ͅe̘̼͇̳̗͍͟r̤̺͇̝̦̩͟ṿ̫̜̹̙̕͝a͝҉̘̤̗͙̠͡n͟҉̗͖t̯͘ͅ ̰͓͞ǫ̜̘̘͖̀ͅf̝̜̝̝͔ ̸̟̜a̶̪̦̮̕͠ ̢̟̝̪̩͓͉́͢S̪̖̥̯͠͝ȩ̶̶̬r̦̰̣͙̺̗̼͡v̶̱͚̟̝̣͇̗a̸̝̠̼̮͡ņ̝̥͇̙̗̬̜̠ͅt̤͍͇̩̫ͅ.̷̵͇̼̞̦͔͍ͅ ̵̀͏̯̣̻̟͈͙͎̣̺W͡͞͏̥̝̗̗̮̹h̸̯́͢a̖̼͖t͏̢̝̯͙̞͇ ͎͙̱̳̺͢n̢̥̥̣̺e̴̻̺w̢͍̺̜͖̱̣͍͉s̸͕̹̘̭͚͞ ̞̻̹͚͠d̵͔̠͈̥o̼͚̺͚̰̯͟͜ ̸̯͎̮̮̙̣͎y̷͝҉̯͚̗̫o̳͉̫͔͍̦ư͈̳̜͇ ̴̳̠̜̭͇͍̤̫͞b̡̘͍̙̕r̲̯̝̥̥̞͞ͅi̱̤̼͉͙̻̳̻̼͡n͉̭g̶͈͇̪͇̬̺̯͓͘ͅ?̧̡̹͓̩̗̝̗ The words were not spoken, so much as felt. Hacen Blackfire, King of the Sixth Court, did not speak.

Hacen Blackfire, who in the War of Unification had sacrificed a world of innocents to the great enemy, condemning his court to darkness. Hacen Blackfire, who had died seven times and returned eight. Hacen Blackfire, whose name was forbidden to be spoken by any in the Purple Dragon Enclosure. Hacen Blackfire never spoke.

He had not spoken in ten thousand years.

"Most Holy Majesty. Our plans have come to fruition. My niece has gone to rut with the Kadrian princeling. If she is not pregnant now, she will be soon."

"Al̸l͡ i͢s ͞a̸s̀ ͘I ͘h͠ąve̵ ҉for҉ese̷e҉n͠.͘ ͠H̨e̷r̨e̛ ͝aś eļsew̛h͟e̵r̸e͝. T͝h̷e̵ ̛fi͘r͡st ͢sa̸crif́íce ̶sh̵a҉l̵l ̛op͢e̴n t̨h̵e b̴ook.̸ ͢T̸h҉ę ̶se̶co͢n̷d s̕h̕a҉l̢l̕ ̨s̛ḩo̕w͏ u҉s t̛h͢e w̛a͠y͡."
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Wed Oct 23, 2019 12:49 pm

The Goddess lounged upon her throne. Reixanxi are good at lounging. They're very much like cats in that way. And when you think of them like cats, it all begins to make sense. So, the Empress lounged on her throne. It wasn't much of a throne, being more like a couch than a chair. All the better for the lounging of the beautiful figure that decorated it. And today, she was beautiful. Moreso even than usual. She was a paragon of female perfection, from the long golden hair that fell to her perfect rear, from the gentle rise of her nipples against her thin silk dress to the large, ripe breasts they rose from, from her milk-white skin to the gleaming silver of her eyes. The only thing that detracted from her beauty was the knowledge it was a facade, a dream, a fake.

For Telvaena had a thousand forms to wear, each of them perfect, and each was as unreal as the other. Which was her true form was, perhaps, a mystery even to her.

But it was hard to think of lies and trickery when faced with her beauty. For the fact remained that she was real, and the forms she wore were but a reflection of her essential self. Those fortunate enough to be permitted to kiss the High Queen's hand, as Ramiel had, could find it difficult to keep in mind the illusion, for the illusion of a goddess is the reality of her inferiors.

But she was beautiful today. And that was good. It meant she was in a good mood. Her Secretary approached to within feet of her august presence and knelt, "Your Divinity." He steeled himself. To be so fortunate as to hear her speak was an honour beyond price, and even the cynical Ramiel had not yet grown used to it. As different as day from night was the difference between a woman and a man, and having served beneath Telvaena's father, Ramiel found he preferred to be the slave of the woman.

Her voice was as light as the dew, but as heavy as a storm. "Rise, Ramiel. What news today?" Every syllable reached inside him and grabbed at his heart, as at other parts of him. She was muliebrity itself, and her speech seemed as perfumed as she was, for even at this remove he could detect the faint scent of flowers that hung about her. Violets, today.

Conscious that his heart had sped up, the Grand Secretary rose to his feet and bowed at his waist. "There is little enough of it, Divinity," he murmured, knowing she could have heard him had he been fifty feet away and not six. "The foreigners continue to flock to Farport. My governor has sent her monthly taxes, and she seemed satisfied with its weight."

"Daria is never satisfied. But I am." She stretched, thrusting her breasts out as she raised her arms heavenward.

"As you say, Divinity." Ramiel didn't bother to hide that he was watching her. She would have been offended had he refused to enjoy her show; that was why she put it on, after all. A Goddess did not need to stretch. "There is a report that one of your servants has discovered a forbidden technology. In the court of the west."

"Let it be dealt with, then." She rose to her feet, letting the light flow through her thin dress, casting her body into silhouette beneath it. "This does not require my attention, does it? What do you really want, Ramiel?" She began to approach him, her eyes glinting. Though she walked, it was not on the ground. The air itself was honoured to support the slender weight of the High Queen. "Or are you here just to see me?"

He swallowed. Coughed. Swallowed again. "To see you, Divinity, is an honour." The scent of violets faded, to be replaced by that of the whole garden. It was strong without being overpowering.

"Yes. It is." She did him the honour of standing before him, crossing her arms under her bust to provide it with unneeded lift and prominence. "And you enjoy every moment of it."

He couldn't be bothered to deny that. The sight of the goddess was an honour, yes, but it was also a pleasure. Instead he bowed his head. "Do you recall that I spoke to you about the pixies and their petition? Alessa has heard them out and agreed to order that they be paid the full wage. There has been minor protest of this from the servants of your servants. Will you hear their petition on the matter?" It was far beneath the Goddess to hear the requests of a mere scheduled tribe. That was why she had her government. But the only person who could overrule Alessa's order was the Empress...

"If it suited our cousin to act in that way, then it suits me to allow it." The Goddess shrugged, and Ramiel nearly bit his tongue. "There is wealth enough to pay you to come before me. There is wealth enough to pay them. Or did I miss my guess?"

"I was offered a small consideration to raise the issue, Divinity." And nothing more.

"And you have done so." She dismissed the matter. "My cousin's order stands."

"As my Goddess commands." And now they came to the last issue, and Ramiel swallowed. "There is one issue remaining, Divinity. The matter of you choosing a consort... you have been High Queen for three years now, and none dispute that you will rule for many centuries to come. But it is not..."

"Yes, yes." Her attitude curdled. Very much like soured milk. "A queen needs a king. A throne needs heirs. My idiot brother..." Ramiel stiffened. The Prince had not been spoken of in decades now as a member of the house, and it was a shock to hear her of all people bring him up in such fashion. She noticed his horror, and sighed. Her sigh was like the wind through the weeping willow. "...I will not take one of my servants as my lord and master."

"Of course, Divinity." Ramiel replied dutifully. "May I suggest, then, that you speak to Lady Rowan? Perhaps she has a solution. She was here to celebrate her son's bonding to his soulmate, and no doubt she would be happy to assist in this matter."

"Oh, very well." The Goddess didn't much care for her sister-in-law, reminder that she was. "Inform her that I wish an interview. She will no doubt know why."
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

With apologies and gratitude to Sir Terry

Postby Reixia » Fri Oct 25, 2019 1:02 pm

The pixie battle cry was often the first sign that people had the pixies were even in the area. "Nae gods, nae masters! We wulnae be fooled again!“ If they were particularly unlucky, it would be the last thing those people heard.

No one in the PDE seemed to truly know where the pixies had come from. They had just always been there, so far as the locals were concerned. And 'there' was a surprisingly broad range of places. Pixies seemed everywhere that life could be, and some places that life shouldn't be.

Technically, of course, the barrow belonged to the old king whose body lay in a stone tomb beneath them. But the few attempts by the Draugr to remove his unwanted squatters had ended poorly for him, and now he just waited for them to leave.

A thousand beady eyes looked out from the darkness as one woad-covered figure looked around himself, his hands tucked into his tartan. "Ah spoke tae th' bairn, an' she said 'at Ah was reit. Sae open up a cask, lads, coz th' empress is payin'!"

There was a loud whoop from the walls as the tribe cheered. Course, none of these pixies were so louch as to actually work for a living. But it was nice to know that if any of them had the misfortune to fall into steady employment they would be appropriately recompensed for their moment of bourgeoisie weakness.

The cask (of Ebonheart Old Peculiar, never mind how they had gotten ahold of it) was procured, and tiny thimble-sized mugs were poured to overflowing. "Hail!“ Sgaoire raised his mug.

"Wassail!" Came the answer from five hundred chiefs of pixiedom. The thimbles were drunk and refilled.

"Tae th' kings an' th' queens!“

"Lang main they bide!“ For, though the Courts and their masters were of only slight concern to the pixies, every one of them would swear to being a royalist if pressed, even though none of them would have recognized the monarchs in a line-up.

They'd have been more specific if only they could have remembered which court it was they were meeting in.

Again the mugs were filled, and again Sgaoire raised his as two men brought forward a coin stamped with Her Divinity's face. "Tae th' big Kelda!"

"Send 'er victorioos canty an' glorioos!"

By now, the quantities being drunk were having an effect on the pixies, but Sgaoire Gordon knew they had one more person to toast, and he rapped his mug with a piece of loot. "An' tae minister Alissa! Main she hae a thoosain bairns!“

Every pixie assembled agreed with this sentiment, and they proved it by getting into a huge knockdown fight.

A hundred thousand light years away, Alessa sat up in bed, sweating violently. Her husband was up in a moment, embracing her. "Dearest, what's wrong?“

The minister took a few deep breaths, leaning against his strong chest and trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. "I just had the worst nightmare of my life, Ferion..."
Last edited by Reixia on Mon Nov 04, 2019 12:00 am, edited 2 times in total.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Wed Oct 30, 2019 5:35 pm

“Aenar, I’m warm enough already.” And this was true. Celwen lay in the hollow in their bondmating bed, secured and warmed by the biggest blanket her husband could have found. And a growing pile of smaller, but no less warm, blankets“All I need to be perfectly comfortable is you.”

“It’s not enough!” He said, depositing a fifth blanket on top of her. Though he couldn’t put into words why it wasn’t enough. All he knew was that the unseasonably cold temperatures had put his instincts on overdrive. Celwen needed protection, and he was going to protect her. And their child. Not that he really knew she was pregnant, but he felt pretty certain that their efforts had been successful, and his instincts told him that if she was pregnant, then he had to work doubly hard to keep her safe.

Celwen, herself, had no doubts as to her gravid state. She was certain that she was pregnant… and she was certain that if Aenar kept piling blankets on top of her, he’d crush her and the baby both. “Aenar!”

“Just a couple more, min svass!”
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Sat Nov 09, 2019 12:49 pm

Everyone knows of the four main Gods of the Xi pantheon. Stern Tyrion, beautiful Eryniel, strong Falias and and bountiful Kenaz. Some have had dealings with devotees of Anu and Kyne, who safeguard the balance of reality and superintend the endeavour, who stand as patrons of the Court of Gold and Silver. But there are other gods who came out of the Elder Wood with their followers.

Direnni, who writes the song of reality, and his consort Mnemoli, who sings it into being.

Magnar, whose genius built the Arena and populated it with the lesser races, and his consort Nirya, whose dancing sets the cycles of the worlds in motion.

Lorkhan, the enigma, whose cunning freed the All-mother from the devourer and whose lust stole a fragment of the enemy to be his consort, who set the endeavour in motion to forever thwart the hunger of Shor.

And Vanua, who glides in of the night to kindle the stars, each a beacon and a reminder of what is to come, what has been left behind, and what will always be.

Vanua, whose priestesses stand on the boundary between what will be and what must not be, and whose servants forever hunt the devouring void and its tools.
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."

User avatar
Reixia
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Oct 14, 2018
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Reixia » Sat Nov 09, 2019 1:03 pm

Elissa was but a newborn priestes of the Star Kindler, but she was like all her sisters. Her hair was as the night sky, blue and purple and black, shimmering in its own light, never the same to look at twice. Her eyes were dark, but the stars glowed within, bright and honest and hopeful. She was beautiful, of course. All the children of the Xi are beautiful, both to mortal eyes and to their own. High of breast, round of hip, fair of face.

She lay upon the bed of her Heimdal Warrior, Selvik, and stroked his face as he dotted her lips and bust with urgent kisses. Their lovemaking was over, for the time being, but their love itself never ended, for they had been destined for each other from birth and were reforged together in the crucible of the goddess. For they were more than male and mate. They were servants of the gods. He was her torch, and she was the flame that lit him, and the union of their bodies was how they regained their magics.

"It is a strange thing." She whispered, momentarily holding him still to her collar bone. letting out a soft sigh as he nipped and sucked at her eager flesh but unwilling to be distracted. "The signs all show that the enemy has made their move, my love, and that is why we came from the temple-home to investigate. But we have seen no proof. It is not like the foe to be subtle. But we have put a thousand to the question, and learned nothing."

"Then we must put a thousand more to the question, my beloved. We must press deeper and further. The votaries have never been wrong, or so we are told. There is a threat, and it is within these walls." Selvik sat up, resting one hand on her breast as he thought. "Father Azaen has been most helpful. We are fortunate."
Farport, Gateway to the Five Courts
We are the Light. We are the Beauty. We are the Free. We are the Princes of Creation. And what are you?

"Tall and Proud and Wondrous Fair."


Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to NationStates

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Bluquse, Lillorainen, Yohannes, Zackaroth

Advertisement

Remove ads