The Shattered City Postscript: Something Old, Something New

[yalenusveler]

Kerrian had...briefly forgotten all talk of ecumenism, now going back into a full on pace and thinking out loud for everyone's benefit. "Alright, the lights are almost like Aboleths, but I thought those were mythical at best and if they're here that's really really bad." Understatement of the century one.

"As for Celeste, she's sort of...not fully here right now? Sort of acting on instinct, but it's not quite that but it's close enough. I'm not even sure she's aware of us right now, but if we tried talking her down? It MIGHT work. And right after the lights, but before the wave, there were..wards going off?" He paused a moment "On Celeste. Like, taking away the last barriers preventing something from being used to full potential."

[The Whistler]

"Start talking, Warden," Lia says in a curt tone of voice. "Don't mind me, talk."

“I don’t know, blast it!” the warden snapped. “It is a forbidden god – or entity – in any recognized liturgy! Even its name is lost! All that is known is that it’s antithetical to reality itself!”

"Mademoiselle... Celeste. It seems you forget yourself, as I did. Will you come back to me, as I did to you?"

Celeste fixed her eyes on Thierri, and on all of you, but especially on Thierri. Simultaneously. Wait. Okay, part of why she could do that was because she didn’t have pupils anymore, but a larger part of it was that funny things had been happening to causality just now. You were under the impression that Celeste had stopped caring precisely what “simultaneous” and “eye contact” meant, and had instead chosen new definitions for them while squinting at a Vechorite thesaurus upside down.

Much like the way she was talking to you now, because she certainly wasn’t making noises or using her mouth, or even really using telepathy by any recognizable standard. There were just sort of words, there. You got the impression that they were extremely large, and in italics.

THIS ONE NEEDS GO NOWHERE

IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN ITSELF

IT HAS WAITED FOR MILLENIA

THE TWENTY YEARS’ BINDING OF THE HERALD IS AS NOTHING

Celeste’s head jerked upward.

THE HERALD WILL OPEN THE GATE

The center of the water bubble did something that was impossible to look at, because gaping holes in the fabric of spacetime were usually that way, even if they were (at present) very small.

AND EXISTENCE WILL BE CONSUMED

…And someone had decided to play fast and loose with gravity. Oh, look, there was a chair that had decided to go into a lazy orbit around the center of the sphere. There was a viola doing the same thing. The two severed halves of the bridal arch, more direct in their approach, floated gently up toward the center of the sphere and politely winked out of existence. The bridal arch was wickerwork, and you were heavier than wickerwork. Marginally.

There was a distinct possibility that Celeste would forget what “heavy” meant at some point in the future.

I would heartily suggest that you back Thierri up! Just, y'know, saying. More creative solutions also heartily encouraged.

[yalenusveler]

"We need to start talking her down, and FAST. Get her to remember" Kerrian said, trying to re-orient himself when up and down became matters of personal choice. "I could try to talk to the spirits, but right now I'm not sure if that's wise...so for the moment, we stick with diplomacy, then maybe stabbing evil prehuman fish things?" Kerrian said, as he tried to wrap his mind around what was going on.

"Celeste, we're your friends, and your husband to be is here. I KNOW this isn't you, and I KNOW you can fight this off. After everything that happened, you're stronger than this."

OOC:24 on a diplomacy

[Nerit]

"Warden, let's not panic now, shall we?" Nerit gave the clergyman a stern eyeballing, despite his technically superior position and the fact that her sect was far more emphatic about world-endings and the apocalypse and such.

"Celeste, you're going to throw away your life for some ridiculous magical flux? Look at your man here, he's pitiful. I thought you had more sense than this...We worked too hard and too long to get Thierri back to you, and now you're off to destroy the world! Coo-ee, what is love!"

Well, the severe nun was another path, wasn't it?

Percep 15 >_>
Diplom 29

[Rock of the Fraternity]

"Open the gate? In a pig's eye," Lia says.

The Mage sweeps her staff around the circle and quickly sketches four signs.
"Oh ye building blocks," she starts to chant,
"Ye parts of the parcel,
Ye pieces of the whole,
Hear the voice of one who knows.

From the Void, ye kindle,
Fire, first spark,
Protector and devourer,
I summon by your secret name:
Salamander."

The first sign Lia sketched bursts into bright, yellow flame.

"By the light of Fire, ye condense out of the Void,
Air, first breath,
Breath of life, scourge of death,
I summon by your secret name:
Sylph."

Above and about the second sign, the air starts to swirl.

"In the Void and lit by Flame, condense further into what must be under Air's breath,
Water, first flow,
Drink of life, hammer of destruction and erosion,
I summon by your secret name:
Undine."

Water wells up out of the earth beneath the third sign, filling its lines to the brim.

"Last to be born, condensed from the Water, lit by Flame and breathed upon by Air,
Earth, first footing,
Bedrock beneath, falling mountain, gaping maw that rumbles and devours,
I summon by your secret name:
Gnome."

The fourth sign goes solid, sparkling with pieces of mica - if not something more precious.

"Four stewards of what is,
Guardians of the elements,
Hear me now:
A Gate gapes open,
A hole is torn in what is.

Hear me! See!
Hear the Call of what is,
See the invasion of What Should Not Be!
Hear this! See!

Rise up! Come!
That which is must be.
Bar the door!
Guard what is as all times before!"

Power gathers inside the circle, but Lia continues chanting:

"Blood
And Bone
Darkness that festers
But defines our home.

Evil
Denied
Yet all too often descryed
It must not be lied.

Waken
Stir
See the hole
In our world.

Mists
Reviled
Rise up
Grow wild.

Seven
Gathered
For this thing
That always mattered.

Darkness
Light
See this place
Share my sight!"

Lia scratches three more signs into the earth. Wisps of fog start to swirl around the circle, springing from one of the markings. The Mage casts droplets of blood and fragments of bone on the others, components from her belt pouch.

"Rise, ye seven, rise.
Elements, reach from the foundation to the skies!
Waken, stir.
Guard from the vileness that uses her!

Celeste Viardot:
Blood and water to live and be full.
Bone and earth to have structure.
Air to breathe and walk.
Fire to be warm, lightning your thought.
Mist your shelter and your prison.
See:
All these elements have come to be.

Ye seven guardians bright,
Ye seven guardians dark,
Rise to protect the parcel of which ye are part,
Rise to free the girl of what would tear her apart.

Rise.
Rise.
Rise.
Rise!"

Staff glowing with energy, Lia throws her hands up to the sky. Power surges from the circle...

[Isabella]

Gauvain jerked. He snapped into something resembling sitting upright, clutching at his chest, other hand grabbing at his umbrella. "Get. Rid. Of that Aboleth," he hissed at through clenched teeth, blood streaming out from between them.

"Mademoiselle..." Thierri had stepped up. He offered his hands to Celeste, quite without regard for the fact he might be erased from reality for such a thing.

"Celeste... You and I have always disagreed upon the essentials of each other's character. You have always believed me to be a gentleman, despite my own protestations, my own flaws. I have learned that when it comes to the woman you love, you do not argue." He managed a small smile at that. "But you, Celeste, though you have said you are as selfish as any other, I cannot agree. I have never met a woman, a person, so genuine, so entirely charitable, as you."

"Celeste. You pulled me from Death itself. A true performer knows when he has been upstaged. But! Thierri Boucher shall not step down from the challenge." He drew himself up, proud, noble, shoving the fear back from his face. "I know it shall be no trouble at all. For if such a man as me can turn away from that dark path, then you, Celeste, you shall find such a feat without effort."

[Kaitou Kage]

The destruction of the known universe was not an ideal situation for Rex. Nor was dying by being sucked into an aerial vortex of doom.

According to everyone else, there was some link between Celeste and the goings on. Everyone was trying to talk her down, but Rex supposed he might be able to bring her down. After all, everyone had forgotten all about him, which was often how he liked it in these situations.

Suddenly, the pharmacist appeared behind Celeste. He flicked his wrist out and a small syringe slid into his palm. He tapped the syringe with his finger, then plunged it into the bride's arm. Then he flicked his wrist again and a puff of smoke surrounded him.

When the smoke cleared, Rex was gone.

[The Whistler]

THIS ONE HAS NO IMPETUS

THE PATH HAS BEEN FORETOLD

NO MORTAL CAUSE WILL SWAY THE ENDING

…Well, that was just dandy. If anything, you all were now orbiting faster around the pocket black hole. Which you were orbiting around in the first place, and which was getting bigger. Should have mentioned that. No gravity to speak of anymore, and the tear in the universe was getting larger.

But the produce of the binding ritual was swirling around with you, and you had, by any mortal standard, been very convincing. Celeste was…jittering. In one of those profoundly uncomfortable, uncanny-valley, there-is-no-way-biology-should-work-like-that senses. You got the sense that she wanted very much to attend to something, but had forgotten what it was, and how to pay attention to things at all, and how to exert independent agency. Lot of problems, there.

“Celeste. You pulled me from Death itself. A true performer knows when he has been upstaged. But! Thierri Boucher shall not step down from the challenge." He drew himself up, proud, noble, shoving the fear back from his face. "I know it shall be no trouble at all. For if such a man as me can turn away from that dark path, then you, Celeste, you shall find such a feat without effort."

For one full second, Celeste stopped moving. Everything stopped moving. And the Herald of the Silent One, Devourer of the Universe, Foretold unto the Centuries, Entity Without Name or Form, Enemy of All Beings, looked one M. Thierri Boucher right in the face.

And that was when Rex stabbed Celeste in the arm with a syringe full of industrial-strength tranquilizers.

Okay, so here’s the thing. It was an extraordinary coincidence that an expatriate pharmacist, who had been invited to a wedding because he had unexpectedly chosen to live in a house full of adventurers, would just happen to be astonishingly stealthy in zero gravity, and would just happen to be carrying enough sedative to knock out a middle-aged green dragon, on his person, in a syringe, just in case. Again: at a wedding.

It was also an extraordinary coincidence that a Herald of a Nameless Dark Entity had not chosen to invalidate chemistry just yet; or the concept of a “bloodstream”; or the arcane law of similarity that suggested that, even if that sort of chemical is injected into a being possessed of biology utterly incomprehensible to the mortal mind…well, it still jolly well had to put something to sleep.

You had gotten somewhat used to extraordinary coincidences. Which was why it was no surprise at all when this happened:

OH, GOOD HEAVENS.

Celeste cleared her throat, and smiled.

“I appear to have been bringing about the end of the universe! Well, that simply will not do.”

Celeste pointed a blinding ray of energy at the wall of water – she was still hovering, you noticed – and a barely visible pattern of winking lights abruptly disappeared from view. Untold leagues away, in a quiet stretch of seafloor off the coast of Rokushima Táiyoo’s southeast island, an aboleth started retroactively having always been there, spent a brief moment trying to remember what it had been doing – then shrugged it off, and spent the remainder of its long and happy life driving octopi insane and pitting them against each other.

“Dear friends…family, fellow-lodgers! I fear I cannot apologize enough for my recent behavior – oh, I should claim that it was my born nature to act so, but that would be poor excuse indeed. After all, my father did not accept such a reason! My father, and M. Lefebvre, and dear, considerate, M. Gauvain…”

The aforementioned M. Gauvain was also pointed at, and began to heal very quickly from his fatal umbrella wound – or, rather, began to have never received his fatal umbrella wound in the first place. Also to glow, briefly. His buttoniere even started to look less wilted.

“…For if they bound my abilities, that I might not knowingly harm those about me; and broadened my education, that my undue focus might not imperil the attended object; if they kept me unaware… Did they not also teach me to care for my fellow beings, and for the world?”

The fast-growing cohort of silver-eyed hovering wedding guests was suddenly reduced to an equivalent cohort of perfectly normal wedding guests who inexplicably felt as if they had just been apologized to and patted reassuringly on the shoulder. They all seemed rather confused.

“Did they not teach me to love?”

Thierri felt…well, there were no adequate similes for it, but all of them ended with six or seven exclamation points and had an abundance of capital letters.

“And if my unspeakable Patron expects that, in the full exercise of my birthright, I should wholly unmake that world I so adore, and all of the inhabitants thereof… Well, I should say to him: Sir _____, I respectfully beg to differ.”

She didn’t pronounce the bit after the “Sir” -- not even the first initial, this time. But something was listening.

“For, if you see fit to grant your Herald the power to reshape reality itself, then surely – surely you could not gainsay it if she shaped it so as to redefine her own fated role?”

Something was listening hard, pressing right up against the least coherent parts of your brainstem like a slasher at a keyhole. It was becoming progressively less pleasant.

“If she were to strip herself of the larger part of her powers – for power in excess must only corrupt, and is most impolite besides – and use the remainder in a manner perhaps unintended at their conception? Happy accidents harnessed to better the lots of those whom they befall, and momentary disaster channeled to heal the universe in which it takes place? A universe without interference from certain…interested parties?”

Something wasn’t saying anything, because things that don’t exist can’t talk. Or, for example, scream in several million languages that it didn’t work that way, that that wasn’t something that you could actually do, that it was an omnipotent and all-powerful agent of destruction that had waited countless eons to unmake the whole of existence, and that under no circumstances was it possible for a stupid Herald with ridiculous hair to torpedo the entire concept of predestination just because she thought PEOPLE were NICE. Things that don’t exist are also incapable of sounding extremely petulant, which was a good thing on balance.

“Am I right in presuming that there could be no objections to such an outcome?”

Something was going to kill all of you right this instant.

“For if that were the case, I’m afraid that I should have to ask Sir _____ to leave the premises. Immediately.”

Something was not there anymore.

Celeste smiled, and stretched a little. “Splendid! Now: where were we?”

--------------------

You were at a wedding, and it was beautiful out. Wait.

No, upon further inspection, this was definitely the same wedding as before – the one with musicians, an ecumenical ceremony, and nice chairs, and without the tidal wave and imminent destruction of the universe. You weren’t sure how you knew this, but you knew that most of the party would only remember a blip midway through the service. But you – a true, born adventurer, and accustomed to a certain measure of cosmic derring-do – would carry the real memory with you, dream-like though it was. You seemed the responsible type, after all. Who better to keep a married woman honest than her closest friends?

“Do you, Celeste, take Thierri to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward, until death do you part?"

“I do.”

“Do you, Thierri, take Celeste to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

“I do.”

"Then, by the power vested in me by the Republic of Dementlieu, I now pronounce you wife and husband. You may kiss the groom."

And they all lived happily ever after.