Um, Help? I think?

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Michio Tribe » Wed May 08, 2019 7:41 pm

Tuh, you clearly out’cha mind.” 

-Was that a joke? Savvy scoffed at him with her face wrinkled in jovial disbelief.
Vyrin hoped the headstrong wyrm would strike it out on her own, which would be tactically advantageous to them. Doing this dirty work outside of Neovian soil would limit the amount of collateral damage. But he detected a bit of trust in her of The Great Destroyer. Or did people just stick around Neovia for the abundance of resource and inflation.
Still Dismantling the warped human trafficking network was her initial reason of joining COER; she was raised in their blood soaked nether until every bronze inch of her was worn and bruised. The fact that mechanical soldiers are now issued for both standard and vital transport meant The Ferrymen remembered the Psion. The Ishiann child was a commodity among their murky circuit of flesh peddlers; her exotic features fetishized and sold like merchandise. Before her tenth birthday, The Ferrymen accumulated enough money from Savvy alone to fund a clinic ten times the size of Neovia’s. Unfortunately, the dark syndicate found themselves devastating set back after the twelve year old collected several hundred dicks and scalps from their most valuable officers. 

The egregiously gruesome murder scenes merged her face with a horde of grisly monikers that followed her into Sector XXVII, a Supermaxx Prison and Sanatorium designed for Vescrutia’s most dangerous threats. She spent three years within the subaquatic facility pinning her escape and every night festering in blood lust. Today marked her first real assault since that hiatus; a successful blow but a comparably primitive strike. She was far from done with them, Kham oughta know that. 

“..I’m not goin’ anywhere, but I’ve been awake for fifty sum’n hours and I do want to sleep in my own bed before the next assignment. After that though... well, I was gonna save this for the debrief but..”

-She said suddenly shifting gears to curl up her shirt and briefly show Kham the intricate birthmark along her back. He’d seen the geometric glyphs before but he never commented on them. SILK on the other hand was instantly obsessed by the script at first glance. He told her that the inscription was carved by foreign party and even manipulated her genetic coding. Her mother never bothered to mention anything about it and it never hurt or aggrivated her. The idea that The Ferrymen carved it on her wasn’t admissable but wasn’t their MO. Besides, SILK would know, so she would know too.- 

“I know you’ve seen it before; Miguel mentioned somethin’ about it but his data library came back dry. He went so far as to attempt a half-assed biopsy but contact with the mark shattered his cybernetics.”

-Savyy recalled hearing that Kham’s eyes were capable of freakish shit, such as manipulating carbon atoms or observing the crests of the electromagnetic spectrum from tuft of his throne. She wasn’t sure how much of it was tavern hyperbole or credible feats, but she has seen him do the impossible before. Cross was her other option favored option. Aside from being her friend, Cross was more than qualified to break ground where SILK failed. She was smart as fuck, but Pandora was probably going to take a while putting her pieces back together. The girl was drowned and bloated in the same chemical formula that ignited Imani’s latent Anima DNA. She deserved a rest, but Savvy didn’t really want to wait for her answers.-

“You wanna tell me what you see?”
Vyrin withheld a smirk, the situation was so precious. With Savaj’s back turned she was staring right into Maeel’s face, the situation nearly identical to what happened countless millennia ago when they both tried to rid the world of the worms once and for all. Without them, The Khralaessara would be whole, without them Mytus would never return, without them maybe they would have struggled a bit harder facing the horsemen. After hundreds of years of plotting underground, like moles in hiding against an enemy who had no blindspots, destiny played the worms right into his hands. The months of concocting the perfect script were writing on Savaj’s back. He saw the Ahlm Tongue, as clear as day. The Icarus Pact. When spoken allowed it manifested the essence of the script. And in this case, it kept Savaj’s abilities criminally suppressed. But very killable without destroying the planet. Still he played the role, the Meru Ahk Thal had researched laboriously into the script upon Savaj’s back, the Anima was teaching him his own native tongue, a chore that even she had an immature understanding of.

“Even SILKS data banks came up short? And what happened?

Vyrin took a few steps toward Savaj and pressed his finger along the script, almost instantly his finger crystalized and shattered at the nub. A fake reaction of course, but she wouldn’t know the difference. He looked at his severed finger then back at Savaj’s back, Maeel looked at Vyrin nearly laughing to herself aloud at how much of a charlatan he was making himself out to be.

“I was hoping SILKS data, and several lifetimes worth of wisdom could shine some light on the script upon your back. But, though there is no right way to say it. I can barely believe it myself. What’s upon your back is Michio in Origin. It’s a peace treaty written in the Ahlm tongue. The Michio language, when infused with Naten in this way, and many others, it alters the world around it. And in this case you’re DNA.”

Maeel couldn’t contain herself, having rarely seen Vyrin be ashamed of something, let alone be such a good actor at it but it took quite a bit of his brain power to fully commit his intent behind the action to not let loose any stray neural activity that would alert the Wyrm of something out of place. He was well acquainted with the Icarus pact, how he condemned generations of Qhorm’ms people and the only regret he had was botching the assassination in the first place. If he didn’t then he would have spared the generation of young ones lifetimes of suffering.


This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Savaj Vanguard » Sat May 11, 2019 4:49 pm

“Even SILKS data banks came up short? And what happened?

Vyrin took a few steps toward Savaj and pressed his finger along the script, almost instantly his finger crystalized and shattered at the nub.

“Uh.. Somethin’ like that? But his tools selection was more advanced though.. He used a, uh.. customized transcriptional RNA modifier; nano sized cybernetic naten scalpels that can manually program the gene pool using The Source Code Formula.”

-The robotic timber behind Savvy’s explanation didn’t sound like her at all. The information was stolen after all, seeing how SILK’s designs and projects were too precious for him to share or trade. The Marquis of Technology never even wrote or jotted anything down aside from cryptic scribbles. He kept the soul of his complicated schematics and theories vaulted away beneath the secured recluses of his mind, so unearthing any of his knowledge still demanded stalling effort from Savaj’s end. Devouring his enormous mind demanded the the Psion designate the appropriate real estate within her subconscious.

This wasn’t the first time she absorbed someone’s mind but she never experienced lasting side effects before.-

“His notes described the alloys used to assemble the machines as indestructible, but the seal denatured their molecular structure on contact.”

-Speaking like that left a bad taste in Savvy’s mouth but the sensation passed. At this point, her mind was clotted with too many questions to entertain any more inner conflict. This foreign mark had been an eye sore on her skin for as long as she’d been alive, so why is this the first time it reacted with anything? SILK’s fleeting thoughts theorized the sigil maintained its own defense mechanism against threats against cellular integrity but Savvy killed him before he could run his circuit of experiments. Kham’s fleshless fingers supported the idea.

She readjusted her shirt and faced Kham to hear his explanation with opened ears, but his response, albeit honest, gutted any remaining reverence Savvy held for him.
I consulted The Divine Anima in you all’s absence and she informed me what exactly this is. Though there is no right way to say it. I can barely believe it myself. What’s upon your back is Michio in Origin. It’s a peace treaty written in the Ahlm tongue. The Michio language, when infused with Naten in this way, and many others, it alters the world around it. And in this case you’re DNA.”
“Michio?!”

-She responded with a transfixed gaze, her voice deepened with the sullen boil of betrayal. Her shift in body language was sudden but no more sudden than the steps she took to shorten the distance between her and her.. were they even friends?-

“You’re-“

-She bit her tongue. Why would he lie? To what end? She had to repeat what the Michio said several times over in her head; Peace Treaty? The Ahlm what? Gaia knew about this? There was a silence that swallowed Savvy’s medical room so heavy you could hear the tiles in walls beneath the shrubbery begin to quake. The lush green and floral surroundings rustled at their root and stem by an ubiquitous force growing parallel to Savvy’s apprehensions.

Her DNA had been compromised, a crime so invasive and perverted that words failed her. Did he do this? Did they? Him and his God? Her selective hearing was coming back.

“What more does she know?”

-Oddly enough Savvy’s soft question didn’t sound like she was going to wait for a response. Kham’s crimson peepers towered two whole feet above her head but her furrowed brow shortened him in stature. The four walls enclosing the room began to undulate against the grain of reality; the untrained eye would believe them to melting or shrinking closer towards its thoroughly vexed epicenter. It was clear to her that Kham was hiding something pertinent, if not him then Gaia did and Savvy knew well that protecting the Anima would dwarf any allegiance or priority Kham had to anything else. But if there was any avenue to finding the truth behind the geometric script, Gaia was blocking it. Why else would she wait until now to offer any clarity? This could get messy, but this was more than a prideful boast. Anger wasn’t the cheif emotion behind her fiery glare.-

“..no more lies. What the hell is going on?”

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Michio Tribe » Mon May 20, 2019 9:25 am


-She responded with a transfixed gaze, her voice deepened with the sullen boil of betrayal. Her shift in body language was sudden but no more sudden than the steps she took to shorten the distance between her and her.. were they even friends?-

“You’re-“

-She bit her tongue. Why would he lie? To what end? She had to repeat what the Michio said several times over in her head; Peace Treaty? The Ahlm what? Gaia knew about this? There was a silence that swallowed Savvy’s medical room so heavy you could hear the tiles in walls beneath the shrubbery begin to quake. The lush green and floral surroundings rustled at their root and stem by an ubiquitous force growing parallel to Savvy’s apprehensions. 
Vyrin feigned surprise and trepidation, but internally he was relishing in every moment. Hopefully she would destroy the entire building! He was absolutely betafic. He would cherish this moment that much longer if he could. It just tasted that delicious. The moment after the seeds of doubt had been sown, the look of the aftertaste of the bitter pill of ignorance that so many swallow. He’d seen it when their movement exposed many a Michio to the truth behind The Prodigy of Genesis’ Dharma, and he saw it again here. He feigned caution, and surprise Maeel enjoyed it too, looming behind her like an armored Reaper, her glossed over eye reflecting malice. To both of them this was one many years in the making after living a life on a planet subjugated to the occasional destructive whims of giant flying lizards. This vengeance was not only for the Michio they killed. But all the denizens of the plant who weren’t gifted with the privilege of their resilience. How must Savaj have felt knowing
Her DNA had been compromised, a crime so invasive and perverted that words failed her. Did he do this? Did they? Him and his God? Her selective hearing was coming back.

“What more does she know?”
-Oddly enough Savvy’s soft question didn’t sound like she was going to wait for a response. Kham’s crimson peepers towered two whole feet above her head but her furrowed brow shortened him in stature. The four walls enclosing the room began to undulate against the grain of reality; the untrained eye would believe them to melting or shrinking closer towards its thoroughly vexed epicenter. It was clear to her that Kham was hiding something pertinent, if not him then Gaia did and Savvy knew well that protecting the Anima would dwarf any allegiance or priority Kham had to anything else. But if there was any avenue to finding the truth behind the geometric script, Gaia was blocking it. Why else would she wait until now to offer any clarity? This could get messy, but this was more than a prideful boast. Anger wasn’t the cheif emotion behind her fiery glare.-

“..no more lies. What the hell is going on?
“This is going to be a lot. I just ask you please, listen to the entirety of my words. And trust me.”

Kham just continued without having missed a beat. There was so much to cover. In so little time, and with doubt strewn fresh upon Savaj’s face it was time to smelt the irons of deceit into a weapon she would only trip and implae herself upon later. Vyrin began to spin an intricate web of half truths and lies.

“Much of the Michio history is lost to me. And its my fault, I erased it from the world. But I’ve dedicated much of my life to discovering what occurred during the ancient past to figure out who my people were. And my people. Our people. Were slaves to Gaia, though that was just an alias she used to hide her true identity. She’s not an Anima at all. Her real name cannot even be pronounced by mortal tongues, to speak it would summon her here. But it translates to The Prodigy of Genesis- she was one of the first human beings to ever walk Vescrutia’s earth, she is my ancient ancestor. She bred the Michio tribe of warriors to subjugate other races of people. Including your own. The Djou’Vik. Majestic draconian creatures who wanted nothing but peace and equality for all of The Mother’s children. Dissatisfied with this, The Prodigy arranged a peace talk among our people and yours. She ambushed them, and abused our Anthem of Carbon infusion to apply a genetic curse to your people to force you to your life as human and never take the skies again. Her long exhaustive list of evils knowns no bounds, But The Prodigy grows weak. And as her power wains, so does the seal, now is the time to remove it, so I can finally free this world from the last of her oppression.”

Now Vyrin had to ground himself. Again the cherished moment before the kill returned to him. But he let it pass, this was too delicate to distract himself with joy. With the seed of discord planted the trust Savaj had for Kham was tenuous at best. But he needed to see his entire plan to fruition, the manipulation had to be delicate as to not sully his own hands with strangling filthy cattle. No, he wouldn't do it. He wanted all of Neovia to crumble and this moment would light the fires. There was nothing stopping Savaj from infiltrating his mind. So he kept his stare upon Savaj’s eyes, empathetic and humble. And let Maeel do her work. Her eyes shifted color from the crimson to a silver as the Anthem of Carbon infusion was activated. They had practiced this before, rearranging and adjusting the synapses in the brain to create false memories and dummy nervous impulses to throw off telepaths.

“I already have Mera preparing to assist with the procedure.”

All he needed was the Amazonian to make a false move during surgery, and the seeds of discord would spread across Neovia.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Savaj Vanguard » Thu May 23, 2019 12:31 pm

”This is going to be a lot. I just ask you please, listen to the entirety of my words. And trust me.”


“..right.”

-She whispered incredulously as her vindictive gaze lightened. Savaj already made the decision to unearth the truth from Kham’s mind by her own psionic hand. Kham was a master of deception, a genius of subterfuge; the way he handled rhetoric and information made his tongue more dangerous than sharpened steel. He taught his agents how to effectively infiltrate or destabilize a well organized network equipped only with well tailored lies and tactical positioning. If anything he said was true, he’d been lying from the beginning of their relationship by maintaining an illusion weaved by his ancestors.

Blindly trusting another word would be fopish and self destructive on her part. Forcing their intentions akined them to any ancient evil consecrating tyrannical divine truth. No longer could she cling to Kham’s past pedigrees and their shared glories. His word was tarnished. She was tarnished.

..I’d rather you Show me..

-Savvy’s mental clutches collapsed around Vyrin and the entire clinic in an instant. Her touch was lighter than elven velvet, so he was free to drone on uneffected, but Savaj was going to peel back his subconscious and decode the truth on her own.-

”Much of the Michio history is lost to me. And its my fault, I erased it from the world. But I’ve dedicated much of my life to discovering what occurred during the ancient past to figure out who my people were. And my people. Our people. Were slaves to Gaia, though that was just an alias she used to hide her true identity. She’s not an Anima at all. Her real name cannot even be pronounced by mortal tongues, to speak it would summon her here. But it translates to The Prodigy of Genesis- she was one of the first human beings to ever walk Vescrutia’s earth, she is my ancient ancestor. She bred the Michio tribe of warriors to subjugate other races of people. Including your own. The Djou’Vik. Majestic draconian creatures who wanted nothing but peace and equality for all of The Mother’s children.”


-Kham’s words flowed like a babbling brooke in the background while Savvy scoured his brain. All surrounding matter faded in her softened maple glare. The floral emerald walls, her medical bed, Vyrin, the entire world was swallowed by an astral blackness that eventually displayed the Michio’s memories like a private cinema. However, Mael’s tactical gear guarded her from the Psionic frequencies. And her Carbon Infusion bioposy went undetected. Savvy was deceived again by the Michio’s uniquely designed tapistry of the past. She saw what they wanted her to see. In vivid detail no less.

Gaia, The Prodigy of Genesis, cristen The Mother’s surface billions of years ago. Her skin and resilient beauty modeled that of the Michio; sacred, flawless, rigid. The godlike being crafted their crimson fury and mahogany armor only for them to be maliciously acquiesced into slavery. The immortal witch sculpted their perfect bodies as weapons to enforce her divine rule. They could not love. Bear children. Or live free. It was an unsettling, sobering realization but not as much as learning of her Djou’vik genetics.

Their appearance, or rather the existential image Vyrin had of the draconain celestials, stunted her empircal senses. All of them. Their mathmatical dimensions alone shattered every realm of hyperbole. They Psionic Giants. Gargantutuan creatures who literally swallowed nations beneath their winged shadows. In a matter of seconds she observed them commanded the skies like forlorn kings that terraformed The Mother with entropic infernos for millions of years. Vyrin’s memories regarded themamong Vescrutia’s supreme apex of creation, an epic culmination of organic evolution. But their will dissolved upon the Birth of Rite, The Omen. One of the first Michio ever born. The Immovable. The Invincible.-

Dissatisfied with this, The Prodigy arranged a peace talk among our people and yours. She ambushed them, and abused our Anthem of Carbon infusion to apply a genetic curse to your people to force you to your life as human and never take the skies again. Her long exhaustive list of evils knowns no bounds, But The Prodigy grows weak. And as her power wains, so does the seal, now is the time to remove it, so I can finally free this world from the last of her oppression.”


-Savvy saw it as it was carved into their scaly backs. The Icarus Pact. A curse that preyed on the Djou’vik’s curosity of pacisfism and mutualsim. Their want to coexist enabled their predators and allowed the once unapproachable creatures to be abused by misplaced trust. The Prodigy bound the Djou’vik to fleshy prisons and strangled their children with the chains. But despite how heinous her acts, what made Kham want to play the Hero now? Despite her telepathic advantage she was still skeptical to his righteous ambitions. Was she controlling him now?
”I have Mera already prepared to assist with surgery!”
“Enough!”

-She angrily retorted, blinking a few times to dissipate her deep trance. Once again her gaze rested on “Kham” and his empathetic expression, none the wiser to his or Mael’s intricate theatricalities. She was visibly daunted, vexed and distressed but no matter how much she rubbed her face the boiling sting of betrayl gnawed at scalp. Just looking at Kham ignited lethal, punitive fury so turned away to deal with her emotions. She had to try and process this—

“You- fuckin’ bastards!”

-She roared, slipping on her impusles and taking a single step toward Kham that mangled the medical room with a sudden burst telekinetic pressure. Tiles, flowers, glass, cups, pencils and other shit not nailed down were violently flung from their position and threw the walls. Cracks and crevices chiseled along the floor and ceiling as Savvy sharpened her glare. This wasn’t the first time Kham laid eyes on the demonic script on her back, which meant he was either ignoring the truth or keeping it hidden.-

“How can I trust you, or whatever the fuck you got planned, huh? Would you fuckin’ trust you?!”

-She grounded herself in front of him now, suddenly aware of the fact that he knew how to disarm it. Information she’d happily just take for herself at this point. Did Mera know about this? Did Cross or Atra? How far did this treaty extend? She nearly snapped the bones in her clenched fist just thinking about it. She tried to take a breath but it came out as just a low violent grunt.-

“Who else knows about this?!”
Last edited by Savaj Vanguard on Sat May 25, 2019 6:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Michio Tribe » Thu May 23, 2019 2:46 pm

Savaj appeared incredibly strong at this stage, even suppressed by the pact the vocality of her screams could send any hospital stuff running if they weren’t all on holiday. But her power was wild, unchecked. Restraining it was evidently harder than unleashing it. She was an ant to Mytus in his prime. Who was next on Vyrin’s list to butcher. While he didn’t show his frustrations, he was very grateful to Maeel. He couldn’t feel Savaj comb through his mind, but that was the point. Mind control was like cracking an egg. If you simply dashed it among the rocks you would ruin the yolk. He was still whole, and she was asking further questions so blessings be to Maeel who spun a web of lies that ran parallel with his speech. But the situation only got more tense. Maeel’s gaze was all too focused underneath her helm her glistening silver eyes unwavering.

The young dragon still had her claws in Vyrin’s brain. She was still clinging on, hanging for answers waiting to detect any inconsistencies. And at this point, she would obviously detect any chances in neural activity. Maeel had to drive. Her skill of carbon infusion rivaling Vyrin’s own. Like a needle and thread she guided Kham’s neural impulses, but the two had spent so much time together she knew how his silver tongue worked and the amount of sway his words had over others. How else did their rebellious numbers grow.

So she manually operated Kham’s body while he continued to try and convince her to proceed with the surgery. But to them both that appeared to be highly unlikely.

“Telling anyone else would make them a liability. The Prodigy sees everything, and if she detects that I work against her will she would kill me in an instant. But it would appear you need time to think this over. Visit your comrades perhaps. I understand completely.”

It appeared time to move to their original plan. The next chess move would decide it.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Savaj Vanguard » Tue May 28, 2019 4:22 pm

“Telling anyone else would make them a liability. The Prodigy sees everything, and if she detects that I work against her will she would kill me in an instant. But it would appear you need time to think this over. Visit your comrades perhaps. I understand completely.”
“Yeah, and what makes today so special huh? Is she asleep?”

-Savvy retorted unable to curb her sarcastic smirk. Well warranted skepticism had muddled the perception of her commander but the idea that he was the heir of a fearful, xenophobic league of elitists absolutely ruined it. For the first time ever, the arcane script on her back made its prescence known, just thinking about Its aforementioned origins made her skin crawl, itch, burn and everything in between.

How had the Michio’s ancient racist history ellude her and every other archaic scroll she mastered during her Neovian academic studies? And how long had Gaia’s ruse fooled the world? Naturally the script of the past was written by the victors, but she’d never even heard of the word “Djou’vik”. The horrifying extent of the pact almost drew tears from eyes. But the Michio had won the race war

“You’re not telling me everything.. so..”

She brushed passed him and toward the door. The psionic stranglehold peeling the pigment from the surrounding dewy walls weakened and the vindictive snarl on Savvy’s face wained. Her every instinct insisted violence be the only sound response but she almost wanted to believe the warmth in Kham’s eyes. His empathy pierced her, only slightly. Holding him accountable for the malicious wrongs of his forefathers would only perpetuate the bloody cycle. She could be the boulder that dams the toxic continuum. Or the vindictive blade of reckoning.

She stopped just at the threshold of the doorway to give her final sentiments. The black, kinky forest covering her head had been fineesed over shoulder so she and Kham could clealry see each other. It was something about eye contact between comrades that deluded illusion and deceit.-

“..I’m going to see Cross while you figure out your story. If this “thing” on my back is legit, no fucking surgical procedure is gonna undo it.”

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Michio Tribe » Sat Jun 01, 2019 2:08 pm

“Yeah, and what makes today so special huh? Is she asleep?”
Not quite sleep, but very much pregnant. Why The Prodigy wished to grow the Magus in her own womb versus using the breeding ritual was unknown to Vyrin and The Devout. Whatever the reason it made her incredibly weak, at her age, fostering a child. But those were minor details, The Destroyer had told no one he was expecting a son and with good reason, it would make him even more of a target. Savaj seemed
unable to curb her sarcastic smirk. Well warranted skepticism had muddled the perception of her commander but the idea that he was the heir of a fearful, xenophobic league of elitists absolutely ruined it. For the first time ever, the arcane script on her back made its prescence known, just thinking about Its aforementioned origins made her skin crawl, itch, burn and everything in between. How had the Michio’s ancient racist history ellude her and every other archaic scroll she mastered during her Neovian academic studies? And how long had Gaia’s ruse fooled the world? Naturally the script of the past was written by the victors, but she’d never even heard of the word “Djou’vik”. The horrifying extent of the pact almost drew tears from eyes. But the Michio had won the race war

“You’re not telling me everything.. so..”

She brushed passed him and toward the door.
Vyrin barely budged, Maeel was working ceaselessly to slowly, puppet the husk and give Vyrin back control of his body. She could see the
The psionic stranglehold peeling the pigment from the surrounding dewy walls weaken and the vindictive snarl on Savvy’s face wained.
With a surgeons precision, Vyirn had control once more, his eyes blinked a few times as if waking up from a day dream. His senses returned to him one by one, and he wasn’t dead, so thank the mother Maeel was was proficient in Carbon Infusion as she was. He traced her along the hospital walls while Savaj headed toward the door. She made silent, quick, stealthy moves to block the doorway blending into it’s walls and sliding along its surface, slick and stealthily. He nearly mistook her for the Breaker Third with how fluidly she moved. When his sense of smell returned, Vyrin shriveled up his nose at something foul. He could smell
Savaj’s every instinct, which insisted violence be the only sound response but she almost wanted to believe the warmth in Kham’s eyes. His empathy pierced her, only slightly. Holding him accountable for the malicious wrongs of his forefathers would only perpetuate the bloody cycle. She could be the boulder that dams the toxic continuum. Or the vindictive blade of reckoning. 
She was seduced by Kham’s charisma, Vyrins abuse of his memories and his emotions, for now. But she wanted to kill him all the same. The animal instinct, the instinct of an apex predator sensing a threat never left the mind of the Djou’vik no matter how human they appeared.
She stopped just at the threshold of the doorway to give her final sentiments. The black, kinky forest covering her head had been fineesed over shoulder so she and Kham could clealry see each other. It was something about eye contact between comrades that deluded illusion and deceit.-
But Vyrin was looking past her, Maeel stood behind, ready to pounce. All he need to was nod.
“..I’m going to see Cross while you figure out your story. If this “thing” on my back is legit, no fucking surgical procedure is gonna undo it.”
And nod he did. Savaj’s body hit the floor with a soft thud. Maeel revealed herself slowly from the ground up with the flat of her had extended having just chopped her in the back of the neck, knocking her unconscious. While her feet were bare underneath, the dark steel armor, a product of Michio and Goblin ingenuity shows its decadence and gleamed in the moonlight. The leg plates covering the shins were fashioned after the faces of the Khadar, horned, and jawed. They were a now extinct band of four legged mammals, one of the few organisms who were tough enough to inhabit the end of the world the Michio took root upon. The Michio couldn’t defend them from the wings of the mighty Djou’Vik. Between the legs hung a crimson sash that had the Devout Michio Emblem upon it- two hands encompassing the planet Vescrutia in it’s center. Across the waist was a another steel face of a Khadar that covered most of Maeel’s torso. Her chest was bare, with her shoulders, arms and hands covered in the heavy plate. Every suit of Dark Steel was made custom, all paying homage to those great beasts who ran across the desert plains. Maeel looked amazing, and she could sense Vyrins admiration.

“We musn't hesitate. We locate Akavjrr, find Yh’Keem and Mytus and kill them both. Today.”

The blow was swift, silent, just strong enough to stun, and not kill. Unfortunately they needed Savaj alive to locate the rest of the worms. But after that, she was useless. There was no telling when her birthright would repair her body they needed to clip her wings now.

“Agreed.”

Vyrin nodded toward Maeel and walked toward Savaj. Looking every bit like Qhorm’m from the mahogany skin, to body proportions. It felt good to be himself for a moment, it felt good to show the disgust and resentment he harbored for these creatures. He lifted his hand above her body and Savaj rolled on the ground until she was facedown in the grassy floor with the Icarus Pact facing them. Maeel manifested three crystals from her left palm that floated toward Savaj directly above three key pieces of the ancient script. The top, middle, and bottom near her lower back.

“Samoosa.”

Vyrin called, and Maeel stepped aside. A haggardly old man of brown skin, white hair and red eyes with a cane hobbled his way into the hospital room with a large sack across his back. He motioned for a hug toward Maeel who took a knee to lose herself in the embrace of her elder.

“You did so well sister. If only The Breaker Third could see you now.”

He whispered, in her ear, Vyrin nodded in agreement but he couldn’t let the tender moment carry on much longer.

“My armor, Samoosa.”

“I have it, I have it. What else is in the giant sack? Come, quickly.”

Vyrin grumbled, walked over to Samoosa and removed the sack from his back with two hands. Softly he placed it on the floor and opened the contents while Samoosa positioned himself to the left of Savaj with his palms extended toward the crystals. They pulsed with an eerie green energy. Sammosa closed his eyes. Maeel’s eyes were wide open. She was witnessing history, vengeance, justice.

“This should keep her under for now. The inhibitor alignment of the crystals actively suppress her Naten.”

With a groan, Vyrin walked back over to his position at Savaj’s feet clad in his own Dark steel plate whose ligaments, were homages to the Khadar as well. His, was similar to Maeel’s save for the sash that hung from his waist between his legs. Not only did it have the Devout Michio emblem but it was embroidered with the Ahlm Tongue script for the Number 1- being the Breaker First. Vyrin placed upon his helm, closed the faceplate. The cloth that was used to traffic Vyrins plate covered Samoosa like a sheet.

“Shall we review the plan once more?”

Maeel didn’t need to. But she spoke the plan nonetheless.

“You will weaken the pact, which will set the girl off like a beacon to Akavjrr and the Oyube who will undoubtedly signal her back. I will infiltrate her mind fixate upon the signal and scour the world for Akavjrr-“

“And I will look for Mytus.”

Vyrin finished. Samoosa nodded, Maeel nodded.

“Live for the dying.”

Spoke the elder.

“Avenge the dead.”

The breaker first and his second spoke in unison.

“Let’s begin.”

Samoosa flicked his wrists downward and the three glowing crystals jabbed themselves in Savaj’s neck, middle back and lower back simultaneously. He drew in a belly full of air and spoke in the tongue that moved heaven and earth. The ground quaked, and the hospital shivered by its very foundations, the grass in the room grew, to the height of weeds and lessened to mere brush. You could mistake it for Savaj’s psychic fervor but Samoosa was speaking the Ahlm Tongue. By the now glowing script on Savaj’s back, high lighting phrase by phrase, word by word he was speaking the icarus pact. Vyrin face was stoic he almost looked unimpressed, he was there when the pact was written, deep in the caves, hiding. Maeel however was just a girl at the time, no wonder she was stunned her eyes and mouth were both agape in paw. The power of speaking mere words did all this, and it was having catastrophic affects on the girls body. Savaj was obviously screaming, her mouth was open, her eyes were rolled to he back of her head but all was silenced by the voice of the Ahlm Tongue who’s quake and tremors drowned all things in its decibels. Her scales elongated, and retracted back into her body. Her fingernails that were the opaque color of humanity elongated and retracted back to normal or just fell off entirely as the lengthily phrase was spoken from her head grew two horns by the dripping of blood and puss upon the grassy floor and Samoosa nodded as he spoke. Maeel took the girl by the horns and her eyes turned to silver. Vyrin shut his eyes, reopened them and his eyes turned to silver as well. They were hijacking her body to search for the place of her birth, a place that had eluded them for countless years, a place that needed to be wiped off the planet. Akavjrr.
This is a pen-name account which writes from the narrative perspective of:
Michio Kham, T'ajsa Michio, Gaia- The Divine Anima, The Devout (and its members)
Michio Tribe Lore

Everything posted by this account is official property of ©Vescrutia2018, no reproduction, or reposting of this content identical to or closely resembling is allowed.

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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Ves » Thu Jun 06, 2019 8:45 pm

***

“They can be reasoned with.”

She spoke from the end of the crystal table, proud, forbidding, and ominous To Samoosa and the other 11 counselors. Her voice always carried with it a certain existential echo and it bounced along the walls of the crystalline chamber, atop the tallest tower in the Khralaessara with the dueling suns flirting with the crystal transparent walls, to flood the room with a beautiful rainbow glow. The counselors burst into an arguing fit. Samoosa just watched them. They looked very much like he, brown of skin, red eyes, with features so ancient it was hard to tell who chose to be a man or woman all except for The Omen the one who sat at the tables opposite head with a head full of locked silver hair, eyes of crimson and beautiful, pristine dark brown kah- Rite, The First Master Advocate. She was the most youthful looking, here, seated among a congress of old wrinkly counselors subjected to a life of infirmity by the Dharma. ‘Only through the deprivation of the body can spirit and wisdom flourish’ spoke the stone tablet. A set of laws that changed the course of Michio history forever.

Samoosa looked upon Rite enviously. She was disgusting. Flawless skin without blemish or bruise. Yet the power she exhibited, you’d think she was a breaker. Yet she sat among a group of invalids? Some chose this life, Seduced by the preachings of The Omen that the power Michio naturally possessed should be limited to a select few, while the counselors should be deprived of their body to properly empathize with those less than they. What a bunch of bullshit.

“THEY ALREADY ATTACKED US!”

They shouted.

“P-p-Premtively Might I add?”

“Such is their nature. They rise, destroy, consume, and rest. Not every act of aggression deserves a reply counselors.”

She parried the blows from the other counselors without effort. Samoosa stayed quiet. Observing. Watching weapons of reason at work. This was the fifth meeting they had discussing the Djou’vik beasts. Behind each counselor was a taller crystal obelisk with a singular glyph etched into its surface signifying the values of Michio discussion: Truth, Reason, Practicality, Empathy, Love, Justice, Knowledge, Generosity, and Peace. Should any decision violate one of these values the crystals would glow, and they were glowing repeatedly with every emotionally charged remark. Upon the surface of the crystal table was a series of ever changing intricate designs, that shifted every time a comment was purposed. They were called ‘heart strings’ the intent of one’s speech who’s lines began from the counselors. It helped clarify tone, and intent and it was Samoosa’s task to read the heart strings. Everyone wanted to protect The Mother, everyone but Rite feared the Djou’vik. The lines were jagged, irrational, and static. It was disturbing.

“If it is their nature to destroy, is it not our nature to defend? To protect? What of the legions of organisms that are destroyed beneath the beat of their wings? Our responsibility extends to them as well. What of the Khadar they lost generations of herds!”

Shareesha was one of The Devout, Gideon ‘convinced’. But long before the movement latched their talons into her mind, she always contested the Dharma at every turn.

“If there was ever a time to use the Breaker, that time is now!”

She bellowed, Samoosa couldn’t help but smirk. But the rest of the council grew silent. Unanimously the council had to deploy the breaker and the Cenmotori, the tools of warfare. Samoosa figured Gideon couldn’t be happier. But something in the Omen’s behavior made Samoosa believe that killing them would be far from ‘simple’. No one had seen her defend the city from attack, but she had stood against their power personally, if anyone could gauge how probable killing them would be? Unfortunately it would be her. She wouldn’t dare say they were too strong. She wouldn’t dare. But the council just erupted in cacophony.

“No! The Dragons must leave. Seek home elsewhere, Leave Vescrutia alone. They can fly for mothers sake. Why terrorize our home?”

“We must slay them!”

“For the good of Vescrutia.”

“They aren’t mindless beasts…”

“Why do they terrorize our home?!”

“Why don’t they just leave!”

“THEY CAN BE REASONED WITH! I FELT IT!”

Silence again at the bellowing of The Omen.

“As I stood resilient, unwavering in their fire, both ripping and tearing at my flesh, I felt the flames burning and tearing my mind as well. Eventually I felt a pause in the conflagration. I felt the flames relent. My sanity returned to me. And I realized they questioned their actions. They want to understand us. Why we resisted. Why they can only destroy.”

There was silence again, but it was a silence that was filled with contemplation from everyone but Samoosa, he and The Devout concocted a problem for these flying beasts weeks ago.

“I have a suggestion.”

He heaved, Rite and the other counselors reared their head in his direction. He locked eyes with Shareesha who nodded.

“Something more than speculation I hope?”

“Oh, I suppose I should say I have a solution to our pest problem.”

“Well then by all means. Proceed.”

Samoosa nodded, all eyes of the council were upon him. A moment he always treasured.

“Thank you. We’ve been over the argument of what to do with the Djou’Vik creatures monotonously. Their nature as destructive beasts is without question. Their intent is indicative of their nature, and they show no desire to leave Vescrutia even if it is the most reasonable option for them. So then why not propose a way for them to live among us in peace?”

He stammered through his speech, and the weight of his kah smothered his breath. Every laborious word was a reminder at how choice was robbed from him. Every instant he remained in this floating crystal chair, in his observatory, reinforced his hatred for the Dharma and how much he detested anyone who would agree that this life as an invalid was a gift. But today was the first step of many, a step closer to Samoosa giving all the Michio the full extent of their birthright.

“The question is rhetorical. As The mancers have concocted a reason as to how. We’ve created a peace treaty in the Ahlm Tongue that will bind the Djou’Vik to a humanoid form. We call it, the Icarus pact.”

He proudly announced the name of their latest initiative to the council. A name that would change the course of Vescrutia’s history forever. Samoosa slowly moved his hand from his lap to the crystal slab of a table that he and 12 other counselors sat around. Every inch of movement was a chore.

He lost the Mo’Kailee, the proving ground where winners got to choose their path, it was all he thought about! But now he had a new obsession, The Devout. Samoosa believed in Vyrin, more than he trusted his woman who proclaimed she knew what was best for them. And as The Devout had theorized, Samoosa wasn’t the only one who thought that live a life subjected to the tremors was a prison, and went against everything the Michio were meant to be. Two other counselors at this table thought the same as he, and there would be more.

No Michio, mover of mountains, heaven and earth was mean to be old, wrinkly, confined to a floating chair and have every bone in their body rebel and cry out a crackling call of pain. Every inch he moved played a symphony of bone cracking cadences that only he could hear, that tormented him daily. Every day was a struggle, and all he ever knew was this chair. As the heartstrings vanished from the table, everyone appeared ready to listen to his initiative. He finally lay his hand upon the crystal table breathed a heavy sigh, and from his palm, though no one could see, grew a diamond. The two interlocked, and from the merger did a series of intricate etched symbols appear, which were carved into the table’s surface.

The Council watched the symbols form their completion a series of geometric shapes, lines and curves spelling the Michio Language in the Ahlm Tongue.

“The Name derives from research from the Mancers.”

Rite sucked her teeth at the mention of the Mancers, a sect of Michio who were allowed not only limber bodies but nearly 95% of Michio ability with very intelligent minds. They were the Devout’s greatest allies. Who saw the logic in allowing all Michio creation to exist equally. They didn’t take much convincing. Samoosa had to desperately hide his satisfaction at seeing The Omen feel threatened, and continued through spotty breaths and quivering speech. Every action was laborious, his body collapsing under its own weight. The other 12 had it too, they heard their own chorus of cracks and quivers but seduced themselves into thinking they were doing something good by rejecting their true Michio nature. Samoosa spat on that. He spat on all of it.

“By attuning crystals to the Universal Stream they’ve siphoned lore from other worlds. Icarus is the name of a boy who’s wings where adhered to his body with some sort of wax polymer. He flew too close to the sun and his wings melted off his back, falling to his death.”

A more than fitting name for what he and the Devout had planned for the Djou’vik, more than massive draconic beasts who’s every flap of their wings carved The Mother a new face. Michio were the self-appointed, sworn protectors of the planet and their weapon was reason. It didn’t take Samoosa’s charismatic speech for others to see that even reason was a bit lax for flying destructive lizards.

All eyes were glued to the table Rite and the counselors completed their scan of every etch and line of the Icarus pact as it unfold from Samoosa’s crystal murmuring the agreement aloud, but not in the Ahlm Tongue, lest they invoke the pact upon their own bodies. Samoosa who took this opportunity with all the other eyes facing down to leer at Rite enviously envisioning the hundreds of implied daggers that lie at her back.

“This confines them to human form?”

Rite finally spoke. A full voice of utter gentle confidence, implied leadership, entitled and insulting. Her very existence was an insult to Michio everywhere who’s power had to be earned by the labor of their backs, and the pain they endured by their bodies.

“Yes. They may return to their destructive ignorant forms at will, but I would assume they would understand why that would be a terrible thing after we speak with them.”

Samoosa qualified, Leaving out the fact the Michio must clean up the shit, when the Djou’Vik crater her face in with vicious flaps of their wings. Rite would go on and on about how the life of a Michio is noble, but to The Devout, and Samoosa both? They were just custodians. When they were born to be rulers.

“Their natural forms. Binding them to human form is against their nature.”

“There is no way they would agree to this.”

Echoed other counselors. And they were right, who in their right mind would live a mortal life. Only someone as unfortunate enough to be born a Michio willingly subjected themselves to a life of torture. But every day did Samoosa count the days in which he would be born again, faster, stronger, agile. This body, aging, sickly, and shaking, was not the Michio natural forms either. But that was not the subject of their conversation. Being a counselor was honorable.

“When you share with the Djou’vik, the gravitas of their existence, share with them the innumerable amount of lives the’ve taken, I believe they would agree they must atone for their titanic existence by ensuring the resilience of future generations.”

“You say I should guilt them into recognizing the errors of their existence. The Djou’vik are not a mistake. The Mother birthed them.”

“But they are a problem. A problem that must be dealt with. Are they not intelligent? Do they not know this?”

“They know we exist. They simply don’t care. To them our destruction is a byproduct of being born beneath them.”

“Then perhaps it’s time they realize we do not consent to their rule.“

Silence once more. A swelling contemplative sort of silence. In this room did these 12 weigh the course of history. This was both the treaty, the pact, and the agreement all in one which when spoken would etched itself into the bodies of the mighty Djou’Vik. One by one the member’s of the council’s face took on reactions most flagrant and Samoosa watched them all intently, deciphering the intricacies in their wrinkled frowns, stifled coughs, and narrowed eyes. They are analyzing the every of it, the damnation of it, the hypocrisy of it. And he, the master of composure and poise, loved every moment. The only one equally composed as he was Rite, who sat at the opposite end of the crystal slab with her wired white hair, skin of sandstone, red eyes face and admittedly beautiful features. She emotionless, all too composed.

“Let us vote.”

“And this vote decides?”

Shareesha said from across the table.

“Whether or not we send envoys along with me to discuss with the Djou’Vik this pact.”

“We send The Breaker with you. Or at least the cenomotori.”

Argued another counselor, Samoosa couldn’t help but agree. But he had to speak against it. He couldn’t risk losing Gideon, not when he was so close to perfecting The Critical Point technique.

“No. The Breaker hasn’t yet completed his training with the Honorable Breaker First. Besides, if we appear in force they will feel threatened. And we cannot survive their wrath like you Master Advocate. Nor are we not as forgiving.”

“Very good Samoosa. Then the vote is for me journeying alone.”

Most didn’t like the idea too much. Some shifted in their seats or averted their eyes but what better option was there? Put more lives in danger? Risk losing the breaker? Michio were sure, they operated in certainty. And the only they they could be sure the Djou’vik would die is if they walked on two legs instead of flew. But that would take time, oh so much time. Thankfully Samoosa had an eternity to sit in this chair, sit in this chair and think.

***
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Re: Um, Help? I think?

Post by Savaj Vanguard » Fri Jun 28, 2019 10:27 am

***

When the Djouvik first surfaced from the crust of Akavjjr, their arrival bombarded the planet through a series of volcanic eruptions that shattered tectonic plates, fragmented the massive supercontinent, and generated floods that swallowed entire sectors of Vescrutia. Mountains on the opposite hemisphere of the world were crumbled to dust from the arbitrary seismic collisions. Oceans were boiled into caustic clouds of vapor by the explosive catastrophes. Earthquakes and global tremors unearthed volatile pyroclastic gases. Poisonous smog scorched the sky ebon black and threatened to suffocate all surface life beneath its cloud. It wasn’t until the Djou’vik first cut their wings through the heavens did the Sun grace the planet again.

The gargantuan, draconic celestials conquered Vescrutia as the apex of her creation. But their bodies needed rest like any other creature. Every ten thousand years the Djou’vik rose from their hibernation to sate an abysmal hunger that literally reaped The Mother of Naten, but in the process, their destruction expedited Darwinian phenomena to the maxim. Only the most powerful factions of Vescruita survived the fiery crucible. Powerful kingdom’s rose and fell, fearful Gods ruled and died. This apocalyptic event became known as the Sundering by those left behind and was every bit as unstoppable as a meteorological disaster.

For millions of years these titans sculpted the planet to their primordial will. The span of their wings eclipsed the stars and generated terrible storms whenever they ascended that sculpted wastelands out of the countries clamoring millions of miles beneath them. Their serrated maws were basins vast enough to swallow the sea or even shatter the sky with their primal boasts. Whenever they clashed, the epic duels scorched constellations into the cosmos and terraformed Vescrutia’s crust whenever they flew to close to her surface. Only doing so to feed, build, or destroy..

Qhor’m was the eldest and deadliest of her siblings. Her name was known in every tongue, synonymous with horrific slander. The vestige of her crimson scales echoed in scriptures louder than the devil himself. Her psionic prescence obliterated anything close enough to see her shadow in a flash of fire and igneous stone. Many challenged her prestige but no soul had ever laid eyes on the eldest Djou’vik and lived to tell if its legends were true; if the beasts were truly large enough to sink nations or if their wings were powerful enough to split the earth.. not until the Michio put their godlike mythos to the test.

Despite being psychic, The Djou’vik were boorishly indifferent of The Mother’s creations outside of their own kind. They were by every extent peerless and beyond reproach. The land was theirs to scour as they pleased and the sea was no different. When they fed, the world fled. However In a single day, Rite put their prestige to rest and the mighty beasts took their mortality into perspective.

Aesthetically, The Sundering mimicked an eclipse as the sun fell behind their wings whenever they awoke. Qhorr’m’s scales blistered the heavens with a nightmarish glow so bright it boiled the sight of witnesses. But Rite’s gaze was stern an unmoving.

Her own kind knew her as an abomination and deemed her as such. The Omen, with only her mahogany skin to protect her, took a stand against the draconic beast once their shadow swallowed her home. Her Mancers had already charted the stars and deciphered their flight patterns, so the event was predicted but The Omen garnered no army. She faced Qhorr’m alone, arms crossed, Atop a jagged mountain of silver crystals that splintered the bleeding sky and obscured the Khralessara completely. When Qhorr’m saw what looked like an ant guarding her enormous hill, she didn’t hesitate to bake them into the earth.

History records Djou’vik Fire as a force of destructive entropy that could scorch through any material, but The Michio refused to fall. She and her diamond tower weathered Qhorr’ms rage. Her flawless, unbreakable skin was torn from her bones. Her diamond eyes were boiled like eggs.. But by enduring their wrath, if only for a moment, forced the Djou’vik to contemplate the life of another. The three of them knew only destruction, their nature permitted nothing less or in between. Rite’s resilience insulted allowed the celestials to communicate the only way they truly knew; through the psionic inferno they learned of her strife and lineage. Her biological capabilities allowed the dragons to study her mind without it being warped to oblivion, and what they discovered overwhelmed them. Despite their might, the Michio devoted their superior design to preserving Vescrutian sovereignty. Similar to them, the Michio were gods among dust mites but opted to serve their kingdom while the Djou’vik seared it dry. This ideal sparked epiphanies among the celestial that extinguished her wrathful inferno. A catharsis that rung to the outer reaches of the planet, causing a swarm of volatile energies to amass above the Khralssara.

The Omen lifted her charred body from her tomb of shimmering rubble and saw for the first time what no man had ever lived to see. As the flesh returned to her eyelids and her diamond oculars rebuilt their scopes, she could see the shadowy vestige of Akavjjr’s first borne. Staring right back at her were slit golden orbs, as large as two moons with horns that cut through the atmosphere. Their ominous, yet calculative gaze batted twice before retreating into the blackened skies from whence it came; a melodic chorus of roars clashed above her as The Sundering met its end. As did an era of soot and blood.

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