Becoming Her Tormented Voice

(Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "I am angry that I have -displeased- You. Your anger, Your wrath, is preferable, -desired-, even. But to displease You is....unpleasant. To me."

Rijetta remains knelt, but the worry starts to grow in her very core -- she already felt Fear at your frantic, violent urging, evident on her face, and the longer the silence remains, the greater this pit grows, festering as she grows stiller, her fear changing from physical to mental, the dancing of butterflies taunting the corners of her vision, daring her to look.

Arbre remains still, her breathing slow and calm. She seems at ease in the presence of Chakrasul, the glowing tattoos on her body pulsing brightly in Her presence. Slowly, she drags her eyes up to the Goddess, watching Her expectantly.

"Why?" Chakrasul asks as She finally breaks Her silence. The Goddess shifts on Her throne and fans Her wings to get more comfortable in Her seat, "Why does he believe in you? You are the first he has been adamant for Me to meet that I have not sought Myself," She reaches forward to settle a slender hand on the crown of Arbre's head, "The pull you feel for My domain is underniable. What makes you -special-?" As the question leaves Her lips, She tips Her head in a curious gesture and a cruel smile reveals Her fangs as She watches Rijetta squirm.

You have emoted: Siaern's eyes watch Chakrasul, gaze unbroken. Caramel darkens as he sees Her hand lay upon Arbre's head and the only indication of any reaction comes in the way blood seeps out at the edges of his fists.
Balance Used: 1.00 seconds

Arbre's eyes widen for just a brief moment, the faintest sign of fear tracing her expression for just a second before it is pressed back into placidity. She brings her eyes back to Rijetta, curious features now coming to her face.

(Tells): You tell Arbre, "*The word is almost venomous, raw envy dripping uncontrollable* Favored."

(Tells): Arbre tells you, "Only Zorziti."

(Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "It rears its head. I am...Calm is coming. But it comes like sludge, not a river."

Rijetta breathes. She shouldn't, but your lessons come flooding back to her, and his voice, his one continually stressed order, to breathe, takes hold. It's quiet, but surely noticeable, and as Rijetta speaks, she chooses her words carefully, slowly, setting each one down as if it may shatter. "I... have... only just begun to Descend, Dark Mother." A breath. Control the fear. "A single step taken on an infinite journey, ever downwards." She starts to gain more ease, but that tinge of fear never leaves her voice. "To that end, I only hunger for more. I greedily take the Nelrutoti's time, and give all that I am that he may show me Your Gifts. I spake with Your Ejva, and even still I seek the counsel of yet more of Yours." She pauses, a moment, and finally finishes, already having taken far too much time. "I am not special, Dark Mother, not to my eyes. I am merely hungry."

Finally, the images cease and the back of your eyelids return to simply that; eyelids. "May My displeasure bring you despair," She whispers alluringly against your mind and Her ire seems to break as a low, seductive laugh bounces around inside your head.

(Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "Envy. Anger. Self-flagellation. I can control it. Control, as I tell the Temiyti, should only ever be freely given. Not lost."

(Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "*That pit, that emptiness, continues to whirl long after Your control as relinquished it, spinning itself out beneath him in that familiar image of the marble stair descending into darkness. While his gaze remains on You, his attention is only on that, those contorted faces pushing out of the stone to mock at him in frozen expression* It -hurts-. For all I try, it hurts. To know. To feel."

You have emoted: Siaern offers absolutely no response, no word, no breath, no movement. Blood flows freer, now, his gaze unsettlingly unfocused, but still, unmoved. Beads of blood well at the corner of his eyes while dark crimson drips from his fists, splattering tantalizing against the ground below his feet.
Balance Used: 1.00 seconds

(Tells): You tell Arbre, "Favored."

Chakrasul's hand begins to gently massage Arbre's scalp, though the expression on Her face suggests She could just as easily crush her head at any moment with Her uneasy mood, "Acknowledging that hunger. Those desires, that is what he sees," the Goddess states as Her fingers dance away from the grabbing hands of the infant Arbre carries, "Tell Me, young Carnifex," She begins to request as She leans forward to inspect Rijetta with a frigid curiosity, "What fear did My Nelrutoti uncover?" Finally, Her attention slides to you, "Did you break her?" She asks you directly.

You have emoted: Abhorring the address, the bid to speak Siaern breaks his concentration, his lips and gums bloody as he unsets his jaw. "Many times, at my feet, in the darkness. I brought her on my Spiral," He explains, blood welling with each word as his hands remain clenched at his sides. "Showed her the many faces, facets of Your Gifts, showed her my pain and exposed her hers. Her fear is inadequacy, Madhi. Weakness, and failure, in the eyes of those she reveres. She -desires- lust, power, and yet fears those who have embraced her will see her for a fragile thing, unworthy of their continued attentions".
Balance Used: 1.00 seconds

You say, "She is Fear, and Avarice. As Your Ejva is Avarice and Malice and I Fear and Despair."

Stoically and without much in the way of any inflection, you say to Rijetta, "You know your fears, your wants. You've named them for me. Name them for Her, as they are not mine to name so well."

(Tells): You tell Arbre, "I've missed you. You have felt far, so I left."

Arbre breathes in heavily, closing her eyes in a pleasurable expression. Opening them again, hints of a smile coming to her face.

(Tells): Arbre tells you, "You do not miss me right now. You loathe me, in your own way."

Rijetta opens her mouth to answer, but is cut short by your speech, and she returns to silence, the experience he describes still fresh in her mind. It dances across her face, the feelings, the emotions, the experience, and as she allows those emotions to return, she speaks. "So many faces, Dark Mother, twisted in disappointment, like so many daggers in my heart. The very same heart which longs, hungers, for acceptance, for recognition, for so many eyes to look upon me with lust, want... jealousy. I fear their disappointment, but wish to see myself reflected in their eyes."

(Tells): You tell Arbre, "I loathe you without reproach right now. In furious envy."

"Favored. Favored. Favored," a voice mocks. Your own. Or is it Her voice? The sound is distorted, like some cruel mixture of the two.

(Tells): Arbre tells you, "She touches me because I prostrate myself to Her. Where you are Fear and Despair, I am Avarice. Nothing but pure Avarice, wants and needs. I want Her to love me, so I do what I believe I can to make it so."

(Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "*Jealousy lights the way in the darkness in a sickening green. Not the jade of Your essence or the emerald of Nimira's eyes, but something twisted and vile, pulsing. No, -heaving-, like a stomach in the roils of nausea. A snarl echoes in his mind and he rushes down after it, the mocking voice reflected in the frozen faces, some familiar, others foreign- Human, Atav, Vampire, Living, Undead, Yours, hers, and hers, and hers. Laughing after him as he chases the sickening feeling downwards with naught but anger and focused direction* Broken. Angry. Twisted. Scarred. Small and weak. And I am none now. I -won-. I DO NOT NEED TO BE FAVORED. I need to be -heard-. To speak. To Teach."

(Tells): You tell Arbre, "Avarice and Fear. Hesitation. Waiting, terrified, needing, always always always but not from me. Drifting in and out. Nothing will sate pure Avarice."

(Tells): Arbre tells you, "I am never satisfied with myself and my life. Parts of it, perhaps, but on the whole? I can always be so much more. I have accepted this discontent."

Rijetta doesn't have the same wherewithal you possesses, and her mouth opens in silent agony -- ecstasy? -- her fists clenching into her clothes, bunching them up and turning her knuckles bone white. No noise can escape her throat, save for choked gags. She sees the very faces she mentioned, the Spiral, every second of every lesson she's received to date. It's everything she can do to keep herself upright, one hand falling to the floor to brace herself, and drips of water hit the floor beneath -- first, sweat, then, tears, rolling freely down her cheeks.

As the toddler begins to doze against Arbre's chest, the woman licks her lips, her attention focusing back fully on Rijetta. A faint trace of a frown comes to her face but still, she says nothing.

(Tells): You tell Arbre, "Mrm."

You have emoted: Returning to his quiet repose, his attention turning inward, the only notion of any outward acknowledgment Siaern provides is some sort of sickened glare at the child in Arbre's arms before he returns to his blatant, unblinking stare at the space between himself and Chakrasul.

Chakrasul's eyes downturn towards the babe that finally manages to grab one of Her fingers as it begins to doze, "Ah," She lulls as Her wings are pulled forward to overshadow Her, "Tiny mortal," She whispers as a cruel glimmer in Her jade eyes begins to twist Her expression into something dark, "You seek approval." The Goddess mulls over Her thought, the statement directed to Rijetta but Her gaze still lingering on the sleepy infant in Arbre's arms, "Yet you fear it. Yes. I understand, now."

(Tells): Arbre tells you, "You do not love me in full and yet you say 'always not from you', as if I should love you fully and totally. Your love extends only so long as my loyalty to Mother. Should She slip away and I get lost to Despair, flitting away as I do, your love will fail me."

Arbre's eyes jerk to Chakrasul, flicking down to the child and then back up to the Goddess. Badly concealed fear comes to her face, and she swallows hard.

"Break her before Me." The command is simple and leaves no room for argument as you feel Her settle into the corner of your mind, as if to observe the process from your perspective.

"Break. Break. Break." That odd, distorted voice chants again and you feel Her excitement begin to rise.

Rijetta breathes again, the action meant to calm her, to help her control, to bring her back from the brink, to let her function. It takes her a moment before she can speak, though, tears still freely rolling down her face, utterly ruining the haughty look she tries to wear so often. Her voice comes in a raspy whisper, all she can manage, as she answers, remaining on the floor where she'd found herself. "Yes, Dark Mother", is all she can say, hands quaking.

You have emoted: Then, there, Siaern shatters, not in woe, but in something else. Jealousy, sickened pleasure, eyes widening as they move quietly between Chakrasul, Arbre, the child and Rijetta, back and forth in a frighteningly quick rotation, over and over until his eyes utterly lose their focus. "No." He says, though it's unclear who the words are directed at. "Not totally. Not utterly. I don't -need- that. What I need is in -here-."

You have emoted: Siaern reaches up and presses the jade fist against his chest and the energy finds its target, gleefully, madly, searing through clothes and flesh, the smell of burnt, dead skin and muscle and bone filling the air as he just -digs- through his body, pushing harder and harder.

(Tells): You tell Chakrasul, "*The light flares brightly, enough to blind, to wound, but it does not stop his descent. It causes him to stumble and what was a rush becomes a fall, tumbling ever downwards as the laughing grows into shrieking, cawing like the sound of birds. 'Unfavored, Unfavored, UNFAVORED UNFAVORED UNFAVORED' and the sickening feeling rises in his throat as he begins to lose his bearings in the new unknown."

Chakrasul watches the child for a moment longer and a small zap of jade essence jolts between Her fingers and the sleepy infant's hand, "One day," She murmurs as Her sickeningly malicious expression only grows to reveal Her perfectly curved fangs again. Finally, the Goddess rises from Her throne to step down and walk towards you and Rijetta, leaving Arbre beside Her seat, "Let us see how far your Avarice and Fear will take you," the Goddess whispers on an endearing tone that is contradictory to Her facial expression.

Rijetta nods her head in agreement.

You have emoted: Siaern's hand digs deeper inside of his chest, something manic in the way he starts to simply shatter, mind's so strong control utterly dissipating the closer Chakrasul comes to him and Rijetta. But his hand doesn't stop, and in a torrent of blood and a gurgling voice he manages to say "Ever Downwards Madhi".

A wave of euphoria washes over you, Her delight in your maddening devotion made apparent, "Thank you for this gift to Me."

Arbre closes her eyes and releases a breath, pure relief coming to her expression. After a moment, she blinks her eyes back open and focuses on Rijetta, occasionally flicking her eyes to the Goddess or you.

Arbre closes her eyes and releases a breath, pure relief coming to her expression. After a moment, she blinks her eyes back open and focuses on Rijetta, occasionally flicking her eyes to the Goddess or you.

You have emoted: Siaern doesn't seem to cease his digging, his chest slightly splayed, body broken, knees quivering but he doesn't kneel, he doesn't falter. His eyes seem squarely on Chakrasul as he finds the line of his throat from within and grasps it, choking out "I don't need to be Favored, I need to be -heard-. I don't need to be loved, I need to -teach-".

Rijetta pushes herself back up to a kneel, her tears slowing -- they stick to her cheek, but no longer flow, as she slowly recovers from the ordeal. As that composure returns, she manages an answer, a strange look on her face -- a mix of elation, and fear, anxiety, apprehension for what's to come. However, the pleasure is winning. "Thank you, Dark Mother", she whispers.


The following members of the Order of Chakrasul are in the realm:
Member                   Rank                          Status
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Siaern                   Nelrutoti

Rijetta                  Zorziti


Chakrasul's slender hands lift to come to rest over the slimy, bloody pair of your own, "Forever downwards," She agrees before She pushes your hand through your chest completely, "Forever downwards," She repeats the promise as Her jade eyes stare endearingly at your tormented face.

You have driven your own hand through your chest with the aid of Chakrasul.
You have been slain by misadventure.
You were not afflicted.
Experience Lost: 1500000 [total: 14517629]
Stricken, you collapse to the ground. Unable to maintain the composure of your physical form any longer, you feel your body shrivel and wither away as you revert to your mistform.

You have emoted: Siaern's hand grasps at his throat, no match for the simple, Divine force of Chakrasul's. That simple push sends it through his chest, shattering his ribs and straining the muscles of the vocal chords he clutches. "Forever downwards" he croaks out as blood runs down in a torrent, staining him from waist to feet, while dark blood rushes out of his mouth as he begins to choke on his own desire to be heard. "You...are...w-welcome....always, M-madhi".

You have emoted: Unable to hold himself together in the throes of his death Siaern simply shatters, leaving a darkened explosion of his viscera across the faces of all those present, his tortured mind dragging him into the earth.

You bring your arms up over your head and sink rapidly down into the earth. You begin to draw rapaciously upon the soil's regenerative energy, feeding your own needs.

--THEN I MISSED SOME STUFF CUZ I WAS DEAD--

Arbre unbundles the infant from a scarf fashioned into a papoose, instead wrapping her in a baby wolf blanket and settling her on the ground beside the throne. Content with her safety, Arbre stands and turns away from the little girl, walking slowly over to Chakrasul's side, a pace to the left and behind. She walks barefooted over the viscera without hesitating, showing no signs of distress at your expiration.].

You have emoted: Siaern emerges a bloody mess, stained and shaken, yet somehow whole. His voice emerges from his throat like a rasp, something tainted having merged with his usual tenor. It is clear from still-present wound that runs from his throat to his sternum that severe damage has been wrought on his voice. "Thank you, Madhi".

"Welcome amidst My Chosen, Zorziti Rijetta," Chakrasul says as She turns Her bloodied face towards Rijetta, "May you serve Me well and descend My Spiral as My gift to you." A tongue slides past Her lips to taste the blood She is now coated in and, with a delightful little laugh, the Goddess turns back towards Arbre, "I seek your aid in releasing My monster. You know of whom I speak." And with that, She lifts Her hand to cup Arbre's cheek, "Bring him to Me when I request it." A bloody hand-print is left on Arbre's cheek as the bare feet of Chakrasul pull Her back a step or two, "You please Me, My Chosen."

Shattering into thousands of duskywing butterflies, Chakrasul's body unravels and as the last insect leaves, no trace of the Goddess remains.

(Order): Chakrasul says, "Welcome amidst My Chosen, Zorziti Rijetta."

You have emoted: Siaern is left husking, wheezing, before the Corruption's Throne, staring at the emptiness in his Madhi's place.

Tears flow freely from your eyes as your beloved God promotes you to Esityiti.

(Order): Callidora says, "Welcome, Rijetta."

(Order): Neron says, "Welcome."

Rijetta touches her forehead to the ground in absolute adoration, her mouth hanging open momentarily in surprise and wonder, before she pulls herself up to look at her surroundings, looking up at you in particular.

(Order): Chakrasul says, "And welcome, My Voice, Esityiti Siaern."

(Order): Rijetta says, "Thank you, Dark Mother."

Arbre winces slightly as Chakrasul departs, walking back over to the child and hefting her up into her arms. "Seems I have work to do."

(Order): You say, "Y-..Thank You, Madhi."

(Congregation): Chakrasul says, "The first member of My Triad has been named. Esityiti Siaern, My Voice."

(Order): Callidora says, "Congratulations, Siaern."

(Congregation): You say, "Thank You, Madhi. May my tainted words serve You always."

(Congregation): Urdro says, "Congratulations, sir. And good morning, Goddess."

Arbre's eyes become blank for just a moment before she licks her lips, nods, and walks off.