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Video | CALL Network | un: wardenka

[One of the biggest problems with research into her major projects at home is that simply saying what she's after is a gamble. The chances aren't slim that she'd be discouraged or outright denied help by virtue of what she asks being thought absolutely impossible, or too close to revealing a Warden secret, or borderline heretical. The Seven-Fold City has been the best place she's found to study, lacking any of these issues.

She's done as well as she could here, but now her problem is she can't readily make sense of new ideas without the framework of her home. She needs new input. Fresh, entirely unprecedented angles on the matter. And what better place than here, which barely seems to have even heard of Thedas?

She pans the camera deliberately over stacks of books on a table to show off her research. The volumes are from Tomorrow and Sorcery both, with a couple of field guides from Adventure thrown in, tomes on magic and medicinal marvels.]

All of this, and it's worth so little. [She turns the device around to show her face. She's well-rested, as opposed to the last time she'd contacted the network while binge-studying. There's no brightness this time, no spark of curiosity in her eyes. Instead, her expression one of inerrant focus. She's on a mission, but it weighs on her.] I need perspective. New ones. I was wondering if you all could help me. I'm working on two projects right now, and...I need some outsider's insight.

The first project is...well, it's hard to describe, but there's a slow-acting poison in my world. It can be treated to act even slower, but not nullified. It's less like a spider's venom and more magical, but...well, I'm trying to cure it. If anyone has any knowledge of magical illnesses, forces of corruption, or...oh, anything you think might be relevant, I'd like you to share it. It's, um... [She glances at the books offscreen.] ...bloodborne, if that's useful.

[She seats herself at the table the books are stacked on, her staff clinking lightly as she props it up against the stone wall beside her. The crescent moon tip catches the firelight of a torch nearby, glimmering gold.]

The second is much easier to explain, but, I'm worried its relevance is limited to magic. In my world, demonic and spiritual possession can only be cured by gathering the right amount of mages and materials, and having enough time to kill or drive off the demon in its own realm. Otherwise, the only way is to kill the possessed.

So tell me about possession in your world, and the ways you have to cure it. Maybe something will be useful for my world, too.

[She shifts her weight a little, glancing down as if self-conscious. The click of claws on stone approaches and a dog's whine comes from offscreen. She reaches out of frame to pet the animal, her voice taking on a slower, graver tone.]

I know this sounds like a lot. It is a lot. But I need to do this, I need to succeed. There are innocent lives depending on it. I'd appreciate any help you can give.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I have trailed over the bright writings, as much as I've had the ability to acquire them. In wake of possession by spirit we call upon our greatest mediums, the maroonblooded spirit speakers, but they leave little impact. The greatest source of gift or curse lay within the sacred scatter relics, the juju, so it is writ. To my mother fuckin knowledge, no demon or being otherwise has cast hold over another without the use of these tools, or through control of mind like those rare cerulean empaths, or the indigo, like myself, bearing the gift of holy chucklevodoo.

[His eyes change for a moment, pupil-less and lit bright. They flash in colors of blue-purple and a vivid pink in rapid succession, distinctly hypnotic and unnerving. He blinks and it is gone. Just a quick demonstration.]

The voodoo of a true ninja is grander than simple psionic, for it provides us divine connection. It is said that the holy chucklevoodoo can reach a greater strength and domain than which we are presently kicking it at, but through great cost. It is fear, you see, that we hold and sense and honor. We help our fellow troll to face their fear and so find strength, but it is written that with all too much, ill can be done. There is rumor within the church that it may alter the very soul, scarring it forever, and thus no attempts have ever been made to try, nor cure.

[A sad thing to say to she when she is so dearly in need of help, but he is not without hope!]

My homie, Sam Wilson, names himself a high demon though. An angel most righteously fearsome, riding upon wings of steel in place of feather. Word and blood on Messiahs he will do no harm despite. He is a friendly angel! He ought know more of possession! [Kurloz beams, quickly going to pass a message to Sam to summon him in here.]

[Katherine visibly reels back a little when Kurloz's eyes begin to flash, and covers his eyes on the screen with her thumb when it starts to get under her skin - of course, just as it starts, it stops, and she returns her attention to what he's saying.

It makes about as much sense as she imagines trying to explain darkspawn in their entirety would to a non-Thedosian... But Kurloz is only a kid, she doesn't want to make him feel bad.]

Um... Right. That was a lot to take in! If it was as simple as removing any tools they could use, we would have done that already, I'm afraid. The demons I'm talking about don't need anything like that, they just...find a mind they think they can get into and trick their way into it.

[He ain't insulted that she reels. He ain't hurt. Fear is fear is fear. He knows the voodoo is scary, especially to them what ain't got it.

He thinks with something of a frown after she gives her assessment. Cant take away tools, it's all trickery of the mind...]

...Has a ninja possessed ever once deceived the demon in turn? Perhaps that in its own is their tool, a mind to trick that they believe themselves safe within.

Not that I-...maybe? If they have, I've never heard of it.

[But then, the subject of freeing someone from possession isn't one where much research exists. It's starting to cast some frightening light on the Chantry, really...]

That might be worth looking into, but it's risky. Demons can be very clever.

[Sometimes it's hard to tell what fear is and isn't his own. He's had his heart race over things that had nothing to do with him, adrenaline blazing bright, countless times. He's cried for others, brought his eyeliner to running without full experience to back it all. It took him time with the indigos to work it out, but this, he feels, is him.

And if it works, it'll be worth it.]

Suppose I assisted upon this endeavor. [He swallows.]

I could reach into the mind of the possessed. I could use my voodoo to force it out. If these mother fuckin unfortunates are already lost of mind, with no means out but death, perhaps here presents due reason to test the limits of fear. Perhaps the demon will have a mind of its own and, if it fears, I shall hold reign over it.

Um...well, demons can be affected by Horror spells but it doesn't really drive them out - I've never seen one flee its host entirely and once the effect wears off it's entirely back to normal.

[That is what he means, right? Just the suggestion of fear, like the Horror spell? Not...total mind control like blood magic can do, right? ...Admittedly, it would help if she'd totally understood what he was saying before.]

I... I can do more than just scare it, sister.

[He looks downward. This isn't the sort of thing that's supposed to leave the church. But she needs help. She needs help to help someone else and that, he knows, is something even more difficult to bear. When the world around can do nothing, when they do not listen. Mituna understands but they are only six sweeps, how are they to stop what is to come?]

With the right use of fear, I believe I may act as guide, or perhaps a conduit to the unrighteous communion of them. [His daymares will worsen. They'll rise up upon him like a great beast of grinning maw. He might even seeing things through the night too. But a person will be saved.]

I may at least perceive what it is the demon fears, so that we may seek that very mother fuckin thing.

You mean...you can read their minds?

[She can't really pretend she understood everything he was saying about this "chucklevoodoo" earlier, can she?]

What kind of magic is this? How does it work?

That is a truth, in some sense of it. [He closes his eyes.] All the fear that is felt by those around me, I feel. All the daymares dreamt by those in presence me, I see. I know what everyone mother fuckin fears. It is all there as if it were mine. With the holy fear, I can understand, I can speak, I can guide. If there is fear upon it, I can make it mine.

[He shudders then shakes his head. He breathes in real deep, and exhales. A self-soothing act.]

This gift is a form of psionics, born into all of the indigo, the blood of the family. Kept safe within this nug, it is always a part of mine own. For me, it is the same as seeing and breathing, I need only focus, and practice to improve.

I haven't awareness if it will work upon the demons, but should I find the ability, it is possible I can make them fear keeping within the host. All it shall mean is a grand skull-bound ache and a lot of daymares for me, but I already got a lot of those. [He smiles, looking tired even despite the paint.]

[Aside from the momentary bizarreness of the double-take at "nug" (which is a harmless creature in her world), that's...a horrifying concept.]

As useful as it could be, that sounds more like a curse - I can't imagine growing up with something like that.

[If there was a reaction he was anticipating, the sudden sympathy wasn't it. It catches him, brings him to blinking. Then, just as sudden a quiet laugh slips from him and his palms press together.]

It is only a curse if one is unable to find beauty in the brightness, to find peace within an eternally resting being. [He plasters his proper smile back on and speaks less like he's reciting.] I feel everyone around me, alive, souls beaming beautiful, and I am never alone. I see all them secrets we keep aren't so bad as we think. With the knowing of their fears, I may keep them safe, or I can help them absolve it. I may taste the adrenaline of their joy once they do, just before their fear fades from reach. That ain't a curse, sister. That's a mother fuckin miracle. The day my eyes were opened to this truth was of the best I ever had. I wish for all to find their peace, including you, and all the people of sevenfold here.

The daymares, all the while, are soothed through prayer, a kickass moirail, a purrfect matesprit, and the use of the dankest of nip.

Thusly I say, sister; would you like to chase out the demons?

[She still doesn't like the idea of a kid growing up like this. At least Grey Wardens lived lives free of their nightmares until they underwent the Joining. But all the same...]

That's an admirable way to use it. I-...

[Can she ask a boy to do this? Can she put so much in a child's hands?]

...If it won't hurt you, I'd be glad to try.

[He lets out a loud and sudden whoop of joy.]

How mother fuckin beautiful the miracle, to be able to help a friend! Soon we shall save a life as well!

[Assuming this all will work.

He doesn't know if this will hurt but he has never had anything worse than a headache and his aren't even close to that of Mituna's. He can't imagine anything could happen that would actually be worth mentioning when it could deter their new mission.]

Let the Lady guide us in granting this great mercy, and the Lord keep us standing tall! Praise to thee, oh Messiahs! And thanks to thee as well, Sister Katherine, for thy faith in this humble husk.

I'll register you as one of my emergency contacts, so if I encounter one, I can call you to them.

[As she looks down to do just that, though:]

Does everyone in your religion call themselves a "husk"?

Haha, naw. Our argot has us calling all to be Brothers, Sisters, Homies, and Motherfucking Ninjas. To stick specific to us, we consider our selves indigo, blood of the family. It is simply fondness for phrasing I speak so. I am young and small yet, little in the grand scheme of all. Husk as my body and body hosting power, you have faith in me. Fear mother fuckin not, for my people are well and truly alive as I know them to be. Honk.

An empty vessel waiting to be filled... I think I can understand that.

[It's too humble, but not alarming, as far as she's concerned. With that and the matter of aid on the way, she finds herself wanting to know more about Kurloz's religion again, and wondering if they all talk the way he does.]

Our own religion calls its members brothers and sisters as well, but I've never heard of the other two. What's the distinction?

Church, sister.

[She totally gets it. And blesses him with more opportunity to discuss this goodness!]

The intricacy of the Carnival's greetings proves difficult to elaborate. You see, all are brothers and sisters through the mother's blood, but our brothers and sister of the carnival tend for indigo. Thusly one may scry that all are brother and sister, whilst some prove more brother and sister to our own than others. This then extends to my main motherfuckers dubbed to be ninjas and ninjettes. By fullest truth, my ninjas come of Carnival alone, but I do take delight in use worthy of conjecture. Homies prove easy; that is they whom spark greatest feeling within thine bones. Thy mother fuckin friends, allies, and compatriots.

Edited 2016-12-14 03:06 (UTC)

[She's still not sure where "ninja" comes from, but that explanation makes the origin of "homies" clear.]

"Those of home", I see. That's an interesting way of referring to all one's closest. Are "ninjas" then...the ones closer to the heart of your order?

In some mother fuckin sense. The origins proposed of the Laughttendents tell of those who would overcome great trial in seeking and saving the not yet culled. These heroes of great skill are truest ninjas of all, though may not be the highest of priests. Language is a flexible phenomen capable of transforming how one sees fit.

Oh, so...

[She pauses a moment to gather her thoughts.]

So a ninja is someone who has made the best example of themselves by your standards. A saint?

Haha, yeah! Church. However I must delineate a divergence and a mother fuckin caprice in the linguistics. Truly selective and unpredictable is the righteous turn of phrase! One must mother fuckin attend to personal quirk and dialect, following the indigo rhythm, to dissect another's slam. A poetry is preached among our people! How miraculous are the ancient ways! That I may invoke thee my ninja yet mean not to be saintly! That the saintly ninjas may indeed be the freshest pimp rydas of the rings three! It is a mother fuckin miracle.

Oh, so...it's the difference between those personally recognized - someone we would call like a saint - and those officially recognized?

[She'll understand all this yet! Never mind that she still can't understand a good deal of his words aside from their apparent contexts...]

[He pumps a fist and gives a whoop.] A sister speaks correct! Truthful meaning has been elucidated! You have thus far proven an exceptional disciple to indigo conveyance! I so decree, we must commemorate with elixir posthaste.

[She can't help but laugh at his energetic antics.]

Well, mages do have to learn fairly quickly. An elixir of what, my friend?

[...Is it catnip tea?]

Of sweet fizzing sugar miracles and color liquefied, the elixir is! A mage, you preach? That I may speaketh truth my mage, the wicked elixir is the best their mother fuckin is. The elixir is so great, no other thing may hold its name! And should a minty confectionery of hardened sugars be set within the confines of the elixir's holding, it bursts most righteously brilliant over all!

un: troubadourCatalyst

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