#asteria fere

[asteria-daria-fere]

One divine entourage

Asteria walked the halls of her ship. She was smaller in this more “human-sized” form of hers. She lacked her signature tail and only wore her signature white toga with golden trim. A golden band crossed her stomach and held the toga in place. A small golden brooch sat on her left shoulder. A set of golden bracelets ringed her wrists and ankles. The woman was almost caked in gold. All this -with no undergarments to speak of- layered on her small, demure, cinnamon-hued figure.

She walked, flanked by two women who shared her height, face and even her mood. These two however wore armor that one would call “skant” or “non-existent” but they did wear armor. They were dressed in what one would call a “bikini” in the human dialect of english. This garment would actually be a number of pieces beginning with the feet. The feet were protected by greaves that covered the whole foot- as opposed to Asteria’s lack of footwear whatsoever- ,segmented at the ankle and climbed to their knees ending in a elevated and thicker knee plate. Their thighs were left bare and exposed to the elements, but with their mistress in mind, this was a non-issue. With our arrival at the belt we discover something very typical for their mistress’ warriors.

A waist cloak that fell all the way down their legs to their ankles and no further. The backs of these cloaks each had different and unique symbols enclosed within distinct and unique patterns. We’ll touch on the colors later in this record, but all you need know is that they are Asteria’s colors, obviously. Above the belts and their waist cloaks, we find ourselves at their midriffs. What a marvel of evolution- and genetic engineering- these are to behold. These exposed mid-sections are utterly devoid of armor or utility, but do serve a few purposes: to show off the fitness of the warriors in question and to keep them cool, as well as to look interesting. And yes, Asteria has suffered many a comment on how she should armor them “properly”, she simply does not care.

To the chest- and the main event- we finally arrive. The chests of these two lovely maidens were encased in a very comfortable and lightweight but durable breastplate. The front was laden with small, barely notable bits and bobs of software just beneath the surface to provide them with forward shield projectors. These were capable of stopping most forms of weaponry from solid slug projectiles to particle weapons and everything in between. I would say these were the most advanced, but that is plainly not true. These were developed to be effective and efficient yes, but also only just so and not overbearingly so. Higher quality than most soldiers would get, but still capable of creating a fair opportunity for a skilled opponent to land a blow or shot.

These were made- as well as the entire suit- out of a rare material only the Gods could get their hands on: Colicia. An absolutely, astronomically, rare material made by the Gods for the Gods. Its main appeal is not its toughness or malleability, but its ability to store the energies produced by conflict of any kind and either empower the wielder or reflect it back at the attacker in retaliation. Most who wear the stuff are usually the highest of the high, best of the best but can easily be favored regardless of reputation or acumen. These girls however were born and trained to wield any piece of equipment and master it and so, this was their standard gear. On the backs of these chest pieces, we find the small, bright, humming powercore for the shielding for the suit. A circular core with three large plates that extended over it, not to hide its light, but to protect from damage.

And to not forget the arms and hands- a warriors most true weapons- we lead to them from the breastplate. The pauldrons of these girls was, sadly, non-existent. This was a style choice and not simply a result of a cost/benefit analysis. The chestpiece also did not host one and so the shoulders were bare as were the upper arms. The elbows did host small platting that was separated from the gauntlets and allowed for easier motion. The gauntlets were what one would expect from the previous paragraphs of record and were slender, tight fitting and streamlined in how it blended into the overall armor. It hid a miniature computer interface and a communicator for all manner of task these suits were used for.

The suits these ladies wore were considered technical marvels and a gifts from their Big Sister. These were the tools with which they would do their duty in protecting her and executing her will across the universe. Bearing the bright blues and greens of their mistress’ banner, they would never be mistaken on the battlefield and would immediately inspire awe and fear in all who crossed their path. To be honest, this record was to begin as a documentation of the workings and procedures of Asteria’s navy, but her closest warriors were just a more interesting subject to speak on and so I went for it. I do hope you desire to be granted one of these suits- yes, they can be made to you specifications- just as I. If any questions are levied, I will venture to answer as best as Asteria bids.

[asteria-daria-fere]

A failure of a man

Asteria floated there, in the openness of the void. She floated with the blazing heat of the system’s star at her back, and the cool touch of it’s one inhabitable world in the palm of her hand. It was the second planet from the star and covered in a bright blue sea. Dotted by islands and small continents it was a beautiful marble to behold. On her shoulder stood a man. He was small and barely notable with Asteria in view. He would not be there if it wasn’t for the importance of the world before him. His world. 

Why was he here? Why was she? What drove her to this extreme? Well, when we look at the man he gives no hints.. He isn’t chained or restrained. His hands are free, his feet unbound. His lips however are beginning to move.

“Asteria! Please! Not Tellebahsa! Anywhere but here!”

“You know just as well as I that my point won’t be made with any other world.”

“But, but. This world has done nothing to you! It’s done nothing wrong!”

“I am well aware of that. I have been watching this world for a very long time. I know it almost as well as you, if not, moreso.”

“Then you know how precious this world is, in its own right!

“I do.”

“Then please! I beg you! Think of the famili-”

Asteria’s pinky finger twitched and slammed a crater into the world at the utterance of the word. Her eye twitched. Her massive tail twitched and gripped one of the world’s three moons and shattered it to dust.

“Do not...Ever...Say that word. If you knew its meaning we would not be here!”

He looked down. tears began to swell up in his eyes and a few slid down his scarred and grizzled cheek. The man fell to his knees and looked at his hands. He began to mumble.

“Griza. Jovanii. Mekjo. Feelin. Bahtra. I’m sorry. Mother, I’m sorry. I failed our world. Could you forgive me. I failed.”

Asteria’s hand closed slightly, then opened wide and the crater filled in. She looked down at him with the corner of her eye and a tear streamed down the opposing cheek. This hurt her. She did not want to do this. To destroy families. To end innocent lives. She looked down at the world, then back at him and she spoke.

“Harven. I...I don’t want to do this. You failed me so many times. You ARE a failure. But. You are MY failure. Five whole legions died due to your mistakes. But it was my fault putting you in command of five legions.”

She stopped speaking. He looked up at her, a small flicker of hope in his eyes. Her scarlet red eyes darted back and forth between him and the world. She thought for a moment. Collected these thoughts and spoke.

“So you will get ‘one more chance’ and one only. You will be put at the bottom of a more experienced legion. One that could easily handle, cancel out, or bounce back from your failures. If you prove to have overcome your failure, you will be entrusted with more and more. But! You will have to earn it.”

He stood up slowly. The hope in his eyes shining brighter and brighter. His heart growing with every word spoken. He was ready to accept this chance. This one, final chance.

“I-I promise you! I won’t fail! I won’t force your h-”

Asteria interrupted him. She, apparently, was not done speaking.

“And if you do fail-”

Her eyes focused on him. The heat almost searing the clothes from his back.

“-then this world. This beautiful marble-home to one of my Sisters even- DIES. No hesitation. No remorse. There is only so much failure I can bear. Do you understand?”

He nodded. She nodded back. She drew her hand from the world, reformed its moon and in an instant she vanished from sight.

[asteria-daria-fere]

“That Fresh Legion”

An audible sigh can be heard over the screams of warriors shouting in the distance. The sounds of battle echo across the camp atop the hill. It overlooks the battlefield and it rings with the sound of one woman’s very disappointed sigh.

“Ugh.”

“Ma’am? What is wrong?”

The woman turned her eyes from the battle in the distance over to one of her officers. He was tall, much taller than her but it was clear he was her subordinate. He stood next to her with his hands behind his back and his eyes locked on the battle below. She replied, through gritted teeth.

“Everything. Everything is wrong.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that our legionnaires are not fighting properly. They are...cheating. Fighting dirty is not something I condone.”

“But ma’am, you recruited them to win, did you not?”

“Indeed, I did. I did not recruit you, however, to fight in a manner I found dishonorable.”

The officer furrowed his brow. He was, in that moment, confused as to her purposes. He and his compatriots were recruited a mere century ago by their Lady to fight wars in her name. They had spent the better part of that century as a reinforcement legion for more professional and veteran legions in her service. These men had never seen a real battle and still had yet to choose their specialty, but they did have one thing Asteria found valuable: Determination. They had the determination to fight, and to win. They just lacked the skill, the finesse, the discipline to fight in a manner she found proper.

“Dishonorable, ma’am?”

“Yes, dishonorable.”

She lifted her chin as she answered. A twinge of confidence, her natural aura, engulfing her words.

“These men are fresh and lacking in any real battlefield experience. I make it a point to hold that against fresh recruits, but I take it only so far.”

He turned his head, yet his eyes remained glue to the scene before him. A piqued interest resonating about him as he asked.

“How far do you take it ma’am? If you don’t mind my asking?”

Her eyes, still glued to the man at her side, noticed the sweat running down the side of his face, yet his expression remained unchanged. She reached her hand out to him and gently guided his face to meet hers with only a finger. Her aura of confidence began to pour out as she answered.

“I only nudge them. I guide them towards honor. I lead them to  where I want them and push them were I need them. If they follow then I don’t need to go all that far. But if they resist, then the farthest reaches of the universe are but a step away.”

He audibly gulped at the prospect, the very response she gave. He was left stunned by her meaning. She would do such a thing? She had the stomachs for it? She then continued, her aura engulfing the entire camp and uplifting the officers all around them, save for the legion commander at her side.

“I will wave that punishment for now, though, since they are mere recruits, but I expect a complete about-face after this campaign is through. Do you understand?”

He nodded, even with her finger still slightly digging into his chin. He looked visibly disturbed. His hair turned white in fear and by her will. He looked down at her as a sly grin crept its way across her cinnamon-hued face. She looked away, her frustration being replaced with catharsis, at the battle below. It was calming down. The only soldiers standing were the ones garbed in black plated armor adorned with sparsely placed dark red stripes.

[asteria-daria-fere]

Gah! I hate technology sometimes

Gah! You think this blasted site posts all your hard work and it posts the half finished draft instead! GAAAHHHHHH!!!!! Note to self: burn this planet down. And the worst part is that I deleted the draft thinking I didn't need it anymore. Great! So now I need to redo the whole bloody introduction to Asteria Fere again!!!!

[asteria-daria-fere]

Hello World! I Exist!

An Introduction to Asteria Fere

Hello dear readers, I am Asteria and I will be introducing myself to you all today. I hope that this piece interests you enough to keep track of or question me, please. I think it would be best to start with my name. My full name is Asteria Daria Sarah Casiet Cassandra Julia Pithria Valexia Ju Freldona Stomgrowe Morency Monnell Kyv Venezia S'nok Nelga Fere. All of it is a mouthful, but we don't need to deep dive into that part of me yet. All that really matters is that I was named "The Starry Eyed Princess" in my people's tongue. I'd love to post in my native language eventually.

You might consider my people to be alien since I'm not exactly human, but I am functionally another race of human. I am Vajjh, meaning "People of the Jungle", native to Vel'Najjah, which meant "World of Many Jungles". My people stood at roughly 5 feet tall with long silky white hair, scarlet cat eyes, 4 inch long pointed ears, and a milk chocolate skin tone. We don't like wearing clothes often so we usually wear as little as possible. I wear my signature toga with gold trim and accessories, but with nothing underneath. I do have a closet full of clothes, but it's more a collection than anything. I'm also only able to collect due to my status as a Goddess of War, Motherhood, and Nature.

First, War, my most notable title. I earned it by fighting for the Rebellion of Heaven, the faction of Elder Gods who wanted to stop the control and abuse of the universe by their siblings. I earned my Godhood in a very traumatic way. It starts with my... baby boy, Tellen, being... killed my that...Elder God, Cal. His father, Toval, and I watched in horror as he died. I entered a "Mamma Destraga-beast Mode" and rampaged towards Cal. Let's just say that rage alone didn't win the day and I died as easily as my baby. However, I wasn't out of the fight just yet.

Immediately after I died, my soul was scattered. Half reformed into me and the rest became parts of my future "siblings". The half that reformed was all my rage, my hatred, my anger in that moment made manifest and corporeal. I was reborn as a goddess. One of Hate, of Spite, of every emotion tethered to that burning feeling in your heart. To that blazing fire in your soul. I wielded, in my hands, my bones, divinity.

I bore that power and in that moment, that flash of brilliant red lightning. I watched as Cal’s face turned from assured triumph to dashed hope. I raised my hand and merely directed the red lightning into his chest. He died instantly and for my trouble I doubled in strength upon absorbing him. I went on to lead many a campaign and inspire many future Gods with my raw beastial power alone! It was glorious. And so, that is but one tether to War I bare.

Second, Motherhood, my personal favorite. I earned my place as one of that number by simply going on to mother many a race and child each as strong as I would have been in my mortal form. I bore the Vajjh’est, a nigh perfect recreation of my people with the only change being their green over my people’s blue blood. I bore the Vajjh’il, whom were a demure and blue-skinned prototype of my later, more perfected children. I also bore the Vajjh’rah, the aggressive and towering mirror of the Vajjh’il. And finally are my perfect children, my absolute favorites, the Vajjh’et, my beloved “Demons of the Jungle.” These are, however, a paltry few of my children as I am credited with creating races on a whim.

I have a weird knack for creating races, toying with genetics and dealing in all manners of genetic engineering. That particular interest was sparked in my after learning how my people came to be. The first of us were made in labs by the hands of the Venidro, “The People of the Stone.” They were children of the Elder God Vel and tasked with the creation of soldiers for the War in Heaven. My people were these soldiers. We were “Fathered” in a sense by Vel himself and I am merely following in his horrid footsteps. It is a blessing I revere and a curse I take in stride.

And lastly, we have Nature. This title is the most straightforward of the bunch. In my quest to both wage war and reminisce on my childhood, I attracted the attention of the huntsmen, the outdoorsmen, and all who called nature their home and found a bond among them. We knew the ways of the rivers, the call of the birds, the whispers of the trees and every nook and cranny of the forests and jungles we delved into. We spoke in subtle and scarcely understood manners, and used our knowledge of the worlds around us to win that war. We taught our children to live with nature and we preached on the importance of life and death and how one could not exist without the other. We discovered a lot about ourselves and who the other Gods about us were.

As a God of Nature, I could scarcely recollect whether I was the leader or not but that didn’t matter when we lived and hunted as equals. We ignored the preachings of the Gods of Life and they left us be. We withstood the Gods of Peace encroachment on our domain and kept the cycle in balance. We did all this together, and when I moved on to War, I continued to aid my fellows in Nature. I honored a friendship, I held close a bond. I made sure that the politics of the Divines would not bother my fellows, my friends, of Nature from the outside. They thank me when they can with what they deem as appropriate gifts for the Lady of The Bloody Mother Jungle, Bathed in Starlight.

And I think that is a good place to end this rather long introduction. If you have questions or concerns, please, do not hesitate to ask. I am more than happy to conversate with anyone interested.