greyscalekaleidoscope

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==> Be the puppet

You were curled up around Meulin, you didn't want to be anything. You didn't want to be anything but here in her arms comforting her.

Kurloz

For a moment you ignored it, squeezing your matesprit tight against you and feeling her heat against your achey body. KURLOZ You were a neglectful and bad troll of the faith, you turned your head to look toward Cal, the messenger the gods had sent to you, meeting the puppets eyes as its voice echoed in your mind. It couldn't move on its own, it needed you, it needed your hands in the world, your faith, your strength, your determination to be something more than the gross failure you had shown yourself to be thus far. Good boy, Its time. We need to destroy that fish who took your matesprit's life, and use his wand to scratch, the moment is upon us, we should strike now, while all is calm and no one is watching for an attack- before Porrim can regroup her findings and advance the session. You weren't ready. You wanted a few more hours, a few more nights, in the arms of your love, you knew you were starting to get too weak to be useful, but surely the gods could spare you a little more time.

No, it has to be now.

You squeeze your arms around Meulin and she made a sleepy noise and opened her eyes, looking at your green glowing ones. You dont want to, not yet. Not now. You were tired, you hurt, she hurt-- WHAT YOU WANT DOES NOT MATTER, COME, WE WILL BE DOING THIS NOW.

You rose to your feet, a bit jerkily, like a puppet as you were compelled, and Meulin tried to follow you. You shook your head and signed for her to stay here, as you picked up the puppet and slung it around your shoulders, and reached for you body suit. There was only your purpose, there was no time for anything else

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You had her wrapped up warm in your arms, your face pressed into her curls, breathing in her scent, her skin hot and bare against your own, tangled together, even now as she slept. Your fingers shook as you stroked them gently through her hair and along an arm, prompting her to curl more around you and hum softly in her sleep, nuzzling her face against you.

You would do anything for her, your sun and moon, your stars. You breathed slowly, and listened to her breath. By some cruel fate, even now, even now that she was a goddess, now that she had been murdered at the hands of that lecherous fish, her hearing was denied to her.

You had held out some small hope in your heart that she might be granted that small mercy. You traced thin shaky fingers along the line of her bare hip and leg where they were hooked over the stark contrast of your hip. You'd lost a lot of weight since you'd removed your tongue and stitched your mouth closed.

You could get a straw between the stitches, but you often had trouble swallowing, and really wasn't a little hunger pain appropriate for what you've done? You could suffer a thousand nights under the light of Skaia with no voice and no food and it would not be enough. She made you feel like there was something of worth in you still when she looked at you though, the way she touched you, the way she spoke to you, the sound of her voice, the curve of her lips, the touch of her hands, you lived for her.

Tunes, you knew, did not forgive you his pain, the outsider, Roxy, was right when he said you'd ruined two quadrants... You had. Tunes probably would have caught you in your fasting by now but he wasn't around anymore and it was your fault.

The tumor was destroyed but you didn't really want to continue existing, it was fine, the next life would be better, the next life you would be better, cleansed of the imperfections, your loves would be whole, you had been promised by the gods.

You stroked Meulin's hair gently while Cal watched you from a corner of the room, digging into your mind, turning your attention to little signs of distress, twitching attributed to nightmare, reminders of a life taken, you stroked Meulin's hair while the fire was stoked in your heart, wound higher and higher, brighter, hotter. If you killed Cronus it would be Just. That motherfucker murdered your matesprit, he put his hands on her, he Touched her, he HURT her he killed her you needed to do something about him, you were going to do something about him, and then you were going to take that wand of his and scratch the damned music box your own fucking self and put an end to this farce. You don't even know you're crying let alone why.

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He makes funny squeaky noises when hes booted because hes a clown

You release your command on Kurloz's blood and move to captchalogue his motionless body.

...

he's scared in his coma dreams, too.

Scared for the session.

Scared for Meulin.

Scared for... Mituna.

...

you boot him out the door of the cave and head back to talk to Abraxas. If you make your choice, he won't be as appealing of a bounty anymore.

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He doesnt have to wait long, you collapsed on the cave floor- fortunately not suffering an aneurysm as he lets up the pressure.

You ease up, waiting. Come on. Faint. Faint. Faint. You don't want to kill him. Faint.

You captchalogue his silly hammer. Where'd he get this, anyway?

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Pain.

You froze, there was not a single thought in your head anymore as pain lanced from temple to temple, the hammer falling from your fingers with a silly sad little squeak against the ground.

Your heart beat frantically, there was a build up of blood, a clot forming as it stopped moving and grew stale, you were hyperventilating.

You can feel Kurloz trying to put you to sleep, and, remembering ember's advice, respond with a compulsion of your own. Not to his mind, but the blood flowing through it.

Freeze, bitch.

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OH SHIT

Your hammer flips into the air and you backflip backwards and catch it in a foot and transfer it to a hand.

shitshitshitshit

Your tumbling was perfect but your mind was racing, you lash out with your powers again, this time not distracting nightmares, a compulsion, you were simply attempting to compel the angry troll to sleep- it was actually very difficult to compel someone whos heart was racing to go to sleep, but damn you were trying.

You pick your sickle up from where it'd fallen and lunge for Kurloz.

'WHAT ARE Y9U D9ING? M9THERFUCKER!'

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It had taken time, a precious amount of time, for the god to snap the control of the voodoo as the clown battled the denizen. You did flips across the floor to avoid the tail lashing out at you and tried to bring the hammer down- it made a silly but quite loud squeaky toy sound when you did that, missing the tail but cracking the floor of the cave. You were ignoring Kankri entirely. You have to win here. You have you, You have to keep going, you have to make yourself worthy, you have to scratch this session and fix. Everything.

Your breath catches in your lungs. Who did you think was there?... Where are you? Something grabs your leg and starts pulling you down, down, down into the floor... you need to scram to yell out for help, to say something, anything, but if you can't breathe, you can't make any sound. And even if you could, there's no one here to hear. You thrash and squirm but it won't let go and you can't get your air back and your vision is going dark, dark, dark as you...

...

you're not alone, though. You can feel Abraxas's apprehension and Kurloz's...

Fear?

You snap upright from your prone position.

'I said what the fuck are you D9ING here, assh9le???'

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You spread your hands in a shrug, heavy hammer held negligently between a finger and a thumb as if it weighed nothing and one leg kicked up. You're just a silly guy.

Your eyes flash with power as you draw your voodoos up, watching the scythe in his hands. You cant let this come to blows, you're not fighting the soft little mutant, he might get hurt. You can distract him until the battle with his denizen is done and you can get away. The shadows in the room seemed to consume it, as voodoo dug into Kankri's mind and dragged out his fears into living nightmare.

You stop cold on seeing Kurloz somewhere he, emphatically, should not be.

'What the FUCK are y9u d9ing here???'

You draw your scythe, agitated.

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Its a beautiful day in the blood and viscera soaked landscape of lopah, and you are a horrible clown.

A couple of days recovering at your beloved's in a recupracoon has helped a lot, you arent a hundred percent, but you're a purple blooded troll, you're good enough. New plan. Your babe is going to keep Porrim from completing the frog, and you are going to keep as many people as possible from completing their quests with their denizens. The denizens can die like any other boss monster. You were already there as Kankri approached Abraxas, just ahead of him in the cave, eyes lit brightly and a silly looking hammer in hand - where you got that thing no one knows. Kankris emotional aura approaching makes you hesitate, spinning to look at him with narrowed eyes, distracted momentarily from your target.

==> Make the choice

You suppose you've put it off long enough. You decide to take the latter half of the day and report back to Abraxas to see if it's time for you to make your choice yet.

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==> Do something about it

You approach Cronus's hive, where the tower it had become pierced the sky and made a shadow across the temple dotted landscape. The gods said this was where that outsider was. Roxy. The one who claimed to have gone higher than godtier that was stirring up so much trouble.

It was a nice little place, there was a porch that once opened up out onto the beach that lead inside, and this was the entrance you veered toward, the one you always used when you were slipping up on Cronus to have a chat. There was a figure standing on the porch this time, the scent of burning clove and tobacco wafting toward you, and you slowed down to squint, a frown pulling at your stitches. Cro came out of the shadows, flicking ash away from his cigarette. His hair was long, flowing over his shoulders in waves and curls, a purple streak twisting its way down, tucked behind one fin. It looked good on him really, if he'd combined it with something other than a wife beater and short shorts he might even have been able to get more attention than he usully pulled. "Hey cheif" He puffed a cloud of smoke. You grimaced at him and waved with a shrug.

"So hey, I wvas reading the chat and sawv that you and my matesprit wvere havwing some wvords." His eyebrows raised. "And you and me, wve knowv each other yeah? I knewv you'd be comin on dowvn this wvay to discuss that wvith him." He stepped down off the porch and stood fully in front of it, barring the way. "Wvell I'm not lettin you. Fuck off wvith your shit, no one is listening to you anymore." You scowled and your stitches cut into your lips, fingers moving, you didnt bother with more subtle Beforan sign language, going directly for one you knew he knew, flipping him the bird.

"Yeah I thought you'd say that."

Clouds gathered, rolling in quickly, the light of Skaia blocked from this part of the land of Wrath and Angels. and the Land went dark. Cronus's biolum illuminated his body, running across his face, his arms, his legs, his fins in hypnotic patterns, pulsing with his heartbeat. He drew something in the air with the lit end of his cigarette, handing there in red light as he transformed into his god form, burning with hope fire, single wing spread behind him. You sneer at the crippled god, watching that red symbol as it charged up, and flash stepping away from it as a beam of energy hit it and magnified, busting through it with a blast that would have flung you across the landscape- the fish meant business this time. You took your juggling clubs out, and your eyes lit purple, the air around you both, already dark, tried to grab at him, tear at his mind, fill him full of nightmares, and through him the world around them with real threats. Cronus clutched at his head as his eyes lit purple, and nightmare creatures formed from the shadows and hopefire, distracted for a moment before a club caught his side and sent him flying into a nightmare, that swatted him around, flying from one to another, a broken butterfly swatted between cats toying with it. The pain lanced through his body, his mind, blood choked one lung and he spat it before he stopped himself mid air, he could Fly, He could Fly - he couldnt quite banish them but he steadied himself in the air and pulled his wand , making you flash away again and again as bolts of hope fire were fired after you, blasting the earth where youd been, rocks exploding, as well as masonry- concentration broken the nightmares faded. A club went flying with precise aim and cracked against the front of Cro's skull, loud and resounding and he fell out of the air, landing badly on the ground. He laid for a moment, trying to get his breath. You danced up to him, careful on your feet and a smoldering ground, club ready, and watching him- too close, you took a blow right between the legs as you checked over him, doubling over with a gargled noise that was the only sound you could make anymore, a fist landed upside your jaw- Strong, Stronger than you, and you went flying, who knew how far, and cracked against something, masonry broken under you, and body bruised, sharp pain in your back and ribs telling you nothing good, and blood in your mouth as well, you swallowed teeth as you slumped down to the ground, trying to catch your breath. ..No. No This was not happening tonight, you need to.. recover. Shakily you get back to your feet, stumbling you flash away before Cro can get there, seeking a portal- any portal. its going to take you a bit, dizzy and a little confused, but you'll collapse at Meulins home, she'll.. something, she'll take care of you.

MEULIN--

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He stared down at the remains of his palmhusk, hands shaking, his breath felt hot, whistling through his stitches and nose, eyes reddened. Kurloz through the wreck of bioelectronics into the wall with a splatter that covered it in green then struck a fist after it, teeth gritted together, as the plasticrete shattered around his fingers.

He stormed around his living block, picking up thing, and hurling them around as he had his temper tantrum until he came to the Puppet. Lifted in his hands his eyes met Little Cals and his shoulders settled into an artificial calm as the juju spoke into his mind.

They know too much, and they're going to try to stop you. they don't want them to get well, Kurloz, they wont let you fix this, you're going to have to do something about them.

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==> Be the clown

You already were the clown, motherfucker.

You paced around the room, agitated and restless. The eyes of the Juju that kept you company seemed to follow you as you moved around it. Plenty of beanbags, juggling things, horns, photographs of broken down carnivals, a mix of decay and mirth decorated your room, as was right and proper. An alter was set up, set with candles and face paints, a mirror and an egg on an egg stand.

FUCK

You pull your fingers through your curls. Everything had been going perfectly but now- but now. What were you going to do? All your work was being undone systematically, and you felt the pressure of the weight of your gods' displeasure.

Your moirail will never be the same, he'll never recover, never grow to his full potential now, without the scratch. He'll be like you, flawed, unworthy. Your matesprit will never recover her hearing, because you could not follow the plan.

I FOLLOWED THE PLAN MOTHERFUCKER, I DID-- SOMETHING MUST HAVE CHANGED. GODS- PLEASE, WE NEED--

You knew you were flawed from the beginning. Perhaps you'll simply have to perform the scratch yourself, manually.

HOW? HOW DO I FIX THIS, HALF THE TEAM IS MOBILIZED AGAINST ME.

You swung around to stare at the puppet that stared back at him, whispering into his mind.

You'll just have to find a way, we know you will, you can earn your place in the carnival and save them, Kurloz, you just have to try harder.

TRY HARDER? WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

Your best