Pasis snarling mask

The Cruxati Sin of Envy sauntered into Atl, gaze dark. Moody. Shards of glass protruded through his skin, like spines. They moved with the Nagual, brushing against each other with each step. Adding a soft chime to the jingle of spurs, jewellery.

"Pasis." A pause. "Chieftain Pasis."

Pale green eyes shimmered as Xohuiotl regarded Pasis. A distinct glimmer of corruption.

"Congratulations."
(Xohuiotl)

It had been a rough day for the chieftain who walks with some difficulty. It's clear he's attempting--poorly--to portray that nothing is wrong with him as he moves through Atl but even a fool can say otherwise.

Most respect the gesture and comment not on it.

From behind Lotlhuitl's own mask does the newly forged Atl chieftain gaze, staring down upon Xohuiotl with a concealed smile.

"Most would rather call me honorless for bein' chieftain." Comes his reply, quick but soft. "'spose I gotta give an apology for never meetin' y'in the tavern. Went a few times but--ah."

He begins to shrug but the sheer effort that it would take wracks his body with a jolt of pain. For a moment, he shudders.

"--guess stars didn't align properly."

Atl, by far and large, was much the same. Barring a few trees here or there, it was still the rather empty land it always had been, just now it lacked a few Dryads.
(Pasis)

It was quite a long way to carry a corpse - and certainly garnered more than its fair share of odd looks. But Vesper took it in stride. They'd had victory, though she was confused. Lost.

Only going on what someone had told her.

The gray-skinned girl wasn't sure where to look explicitly, so she looked everywhere. Marching into the Atl without a care, Feitan Zhi's body slung over her false arm, untiring in its construction. What luck - who she sought.

"Xohuiotl." She called out, voice soft despite the intensity in her gaze. "Chieftain Pasis." She added respectfully.

The body was dropped unceremoniously - further, with force. "You said to bring you the bones of the one that crushed my arm." Her gaze never left the Runescribe.

"You forgot to make it specific, so I bought all of them."
(Vesper)

"I wasn't there." Brusque. Perhaps Xohuitol might have explained. Perhaps not. The Nagual found it.. difficult, to look upon Pasis. Wearing their mask. Chieftain of the Atl.

The Nagual's hands had reached, dipping within a pouch, about to withdraw something.

And then footsteps. A thump. Xohu turned, looking to Vesper and the body she had brought.

"Hm."

Pale green eyes scanned over the corpse.

"I see."

The Nagual wasn't easily amused, and yet, at least at this instance he found himself suppressing a chuckle.

"Vesper, Chieftain Pasis."

The Nagual's tail was twitching, they perhaps not quite sure how to correctly parse the delivery of a corpse.

"I meant their arm, it was supposed to be poetic."
(Xohuiotl)

Vesper's greeting is returned as best Pasis can.

Which is not much, admittedly. The rigid siren seems loathe to shift his position or move, giving Vesper only the lightest of nods in return.

"Seen'm around a bit. Most decently strong magi catch my eye." Even if the name rings few bells, the face does. It gets around, bit by bit, in stories told by other tribesmen.

Xohuiotl's hesitance is faintly noted, the attempt of the siren to shift his neck back and forth falling in vain. Pasis' movements are stiff, ragged as if one had spent an awful night and their entire body was paying for it.

Or, in a more literal sense, if a large giant had viciously beaten upon him like a proverbial bongo.

Such was life on Agartha, birthplace of magic.

"Seems others had better luck then I in the battles. Good to see, at least." The corpse is regarded only faintly, failing to recognize Feitan from his time in the north.

There's a beat of silence before he shifts the subject. "...and you don't need to hide it from prying eyes. I doubt anything I do is private anymore. Feel free to show me--I care not who sees."
(Pasis)


Tien Fuuma says, "Hey..."
She seemed amused by Xohuiotls reaction, shrugging her shoulders. "Well... He wouldn't have given me his arm willingly, anyway." She looked to Pasis, remembering seeing him, remembering the bribe he tried to offer. "You're alive. I'm alive." She motioned to the body, cut in multiple places, presumably by her Runeblade.

"He's not. It's all that matters. Win or lose, it doesn't matter if you're alive to go back again." She moved to lean against the wall of the arena. "Only decently powerful though? I'll have to work on that."

The blade was drawn, pressed softly against the muscle of Feitans shoulder, threatening to sever it. "If this is all you need?"
(Vesper)

Inoa inhales on his cigarette, looking at the masked man.
(Inoa)


Inoa asks, "Sup?"
Tien points to the trident on his back
(Tien Fuuma)


Tien Fuuma asks, "Know how to use that?"

Inoa says, "Kinda'."

Tien Fuuma asks, "....Wanna fight?"
Inoa shrugs.
(Inoa)


Inoa says, "I'on't see why not."
Inoa has exited Blood Pit.

Inoa feeds the water spirit some sardines.
(Inoa)


Inoa says, "Keep em' comin', Rin."
He had been regarding Pasis silently when Vesper spoke again.

In truth, Xohuitol had never had a corpse to work with before. Not of a magi, in any case.

"I accept the rest as tribute." He said, words flowing quickly from his lips - as if concerned that Vesper was about to take Feitan's body from him. Snappy, the Nagual waved at Vesper as if to dissuade her from cutting into the corpse.

He turned his face back to Pasis', a shiver running down his spine. The Nagual's expression shifted through longing, barely concealed jealousy tempered only by the reflection that Pasis was injured.

"Dragon's teeth," he said. Pulling two from the pouch. "They'd make a good addition to my-- your mask."

He shuddered.

"I offer to enchant it, like I promised so long ago."
(Xohuiotl)

If it were any consolation, Pasis couldn't give half a damn about how the two planned to desecrate the body.

Softly the leathered hand of the siren rises--a task that takes a great deal of willpower from the sheer shock of soreness alone upon him--to grasp upon the mask and softly take it off.

It was the first time since the meeting that long ago inside Ardent that it had been removed. Long had it been used to create a divide between the man that killed in Tragedy's name and the man that Pasis liked to pretend he was. It was the mask, he always said. That wasn't him--he was just playing a part.

It's slowly removed.

His visage is the same as ever to Xohuiotl; aged more, worn more. Hardened more. The same cerulean scales and the same cerulean hair. Sears upon the right cheek and scars along the left.

The mask is handed to the nagual with only slight hesitation.

"You always said you make good on debts," The chieftain begins, giving Inoa only a passing glance. "We'll consider it all repaid after this.

…Though." Another brief moment of hesitation, the grip upon it tightening even as it is offered.

"...Feels off without it. Naked, almost. I suppose it's nothing compared to what you feel."

There's a glint of corruption that leaks as the mask is given--as if an implicit threat that Pasis may not even know he's making. It was his, after all, now. He did expect it back.

Or, at least, so he believed.


(Pasis)


Vesper says, "I'll wait on you two to finish up, I suppose."
She stepped back from the corpse at the Naguals words, shrugging. If he wanted an entire body as tribute - who was she to stop him? The blade was brought to her back, sheathed, runes alight. Her influence on the blade was growing, magic warping it.

"... Curious what you'll make from armbones." She mused aloud, stepping back and giving the pair space.

She seemed less significant than whatever they were doing - enchantment of a mask or some such.
(Vesper)

Xohuitol's hands reached out for the mask. The Nagual's mythril gauntlets were clawed... and lightly corroded. The mithril had taken on a distinct pale green patina.

He was quiet as Pasis spoke. The Nagual was plainly finding making eye contact with the Siren... difficult. Easier, instead, to look upon the mask. Corruption met corruption.

"Armbones.." Xohu muttered, glancing to Vesper. "Get me some Arcanium, and I'll make you something which should warn others what will happen if they cross you."

Back to the mask.

It felt off without it. Naked. Xohuitol's ears twitched, a frown tugging at his lips before he remarked, "Yes. I always found it comfortable."

The mask was turned over in his hands. Lines were traced over. Some of the scars the wood held were familiar. Many of them were not.

This mask. He had carved it from the heartwood of a weeping willow. The paint was chipped in places. Wear had softened some of the mask's harder edges, the wood beneath the paint visible. The runes on the side facing the wearer's face were still going strong. Prayers to the spirits. Prayers for the power to take what was due. At Xohu's touch, these runes flared with a pale green.

"Are you still Tragedy's man?" Idle conversation. Perhaps a conversation not best suited for the outdoors. But Xohuitol -- Lotlhuitl -- whoever they were! -- they had never perhaps been the wisest of people.

A knife had been withdrawn from a pouch hanging from Xohu's belt. A whittling knife. With deliberate, practiced motions, the Nagual cut away at the mask. Curls of wood floating down to the floor, up until the snarling mouth was all of a sudden lacking teeth.

It was in a similar fashion that the sun-bleached dragon's teeth were trimmed to size. One dragon's tooth was large enough to carve into wickedly sharp teeth for the entire mask.

"I need to take this to a runic circle. Does Atl have one?"
(Xohuiotl)




Teocuatl [SETTLEMENT]

The laws of the other tribes cease to exist as you walk through these gates, and instead you are submitting to the laws of strength and honor.
The Atl settlement borders the Mezhual River to the east, and the Bay of Swisarme to the south and west. It's northern passage is unremarkable, except for a massive wall. The wall depicts Atl's most glorious mythological figures. The walls and trees are guarded by tribesmen.

The Nitiehuezit Temple rests at the heart of the settlement, close to the rocky cliffs, overlooking the ocean. The commoners speak freely as travel and trade is prominent, often flooding the settlement with passive discussions and gruesome battles.

The Blood Pit's supporters are constantly moving in and out, following the warriors they adore. This sacred arena is a place of strength and honor, notable as the most popular place in the settlement.


Pasis picks up Dragon Tooth.

Vesper is given a side-eyed glance as slowly and lumberously Pasis tries his best to move. It's difficult at first, a groan escaping his throat as he forces himself forward--each step slowly becoming easier then the previous.

It's not long before he's walking, even if he's slow.

"...If y'lookin' for Arcanium, fairly sure Saffron jus' purchased a few. If y'wanna buy or, y'know." It seems as if he attempts a shrug that never forms. "Blood price 'n all that."

With a curling of his finger, Xohuiotl is beckoned forth to follow Pasis in all his lumbering glory. "There ain't really a runic circle," confesses the Chieftain as he follows through the roads of the tribe. "But th'temples are all places of power. They should do well enough for what y'need. Certainly y'can jus' make one.

Or I can hire someone to do so."

Carol, if she was around. Or any random NPC if they were not so pressing.

Through the square he goes with the lightest steps to cause minimal reverberations through his body.

"Still obligated to Tragedy," Speaks Pasis as he leads. "But not as much as I once was. Seein' through the war then I'll have t'have a conversation.

Maybe contract is rehired. Maybe not. Better position t'negotiate. Likely severed. Maybe not."
(Pasis)

Annoyance flashed.

Funny, how it seemed everything she needed and wanted in life for the moment revolved around that precious metal. "Arcanium." She said lightly, raising her right arm and flexing it. "Looks like I should add another chunk or two to the pile. Alright." She lowered it, green runes flaring.

Angered that she'd been so easily dismissed - especially after a tribute.

"I guess I'll be going then." She walked past the pair, armor clicking lightly. She paused, for a moment. "Chieftain Pasis - do try not to die." The soft voice called out lightly.

"The Atl hasn't been good at that."
(Vesper)

"Yes." Xohu replied to Vesper, tail flicking. His own ire raised as the young thing got annoyed at being told that she had to go on a fetch quest for more materials. "Do that."

Xohuitol felt that the tribute was what he was entitled to. Whether that entitlement was obvious or not, well. At the very least, he was dismissing her. Hopefully before the silly young thing could say anything else which could vaguely be interpreted as a threat.

And so "Mn," Xohu exhaled, making low murmurs at the remarks of runic circles and temples. The temple would do. His fingers tapped against the newly inserted teeth. Sharp enough to draw blood, if his fingers hadn't been protected by metal.

Jingle, jangle, jingle.

His jaw tightened as he realised that Pasis was wearing more trinkets than him. The conclusion Xohu came to was that Tragedy favoured him. "How much is the contract worth?"

The Nagual followed Pasis, easily matching the siren step for step. His ears were pricked forward. Plainly intent on studying Atl's chieftain.


(Xohuiotl)

"So I hear."

It's the final parting response to Vesper as he leads the nagual inside, nodding but once in his egress towards the temple.
(Pasis)

Inoa has entered Nitiehuezit Temple.


Inoa says, "M'lookin' for residency."

Pasis says, "Issat so. "

Pasis says, "Catch me in th'mornin', we'll get y'set up."

Inoa says, "Mhm. Heard some Siren folk were welcome 'ere."

Inoa says, "Gotcha' chief."
Gunther has entered Nitiehuezit Temple.

It's not a fast journey and at some points Envy might just find they would perhaps simply prefer physically hauling the Atl chieftain through the streets just to expedite matters--not that he would ever allow that, of course.

Laborous minutes pass before they enter the midst of the brazier-lined temple. Shadows dance against the wall as shamans chant and tend to their flames, communing with spirits of nature--and of death.

Pasis, by far and large, never questioned them. He merely silently accepted them.

"I see shamans chant many things. Recite many things. All in these pathways, by these pillars, with these same braziers.

Couldn't tell y'why. Only that they do. I figure it's fittin' all the same for you."

So he hoped, at least.


Pasis' garb himself is one of far more practicality then anything else. While he carries himself as if he had great wealth, he displays it only in the powerful arcana-laden equipment upon him. Top of the line enchantments adorn every fragment of his body, from his head to his toes, and several of his objects seem better at home in the hands of a daemon then a siren.

Gifts, perhaps, or trophy's from battle.

Still, it falls upon him so naturally that the displays of wealth seem second-hand; the display of power far more important.

"Th'contract, huh." He pauses, staring down upon the runecrafter within the temple. "Given what I've been aquirin' 'n wheelin' 'n dealin' over recently?

I ain't sure Tragedy got enough. But 's always good t'see someone make an offer."

Atl, it seemed, was valued higher then most coin and trinket the great Archon could offer--but he never did know the extent of her warchest.

Pasis' hand extends, as if to allow Xohuiotl to take the initiative.
(Pasis)

The Nagual had scooped up the corpse, carrying the body like it were a precious treasure. Dead magi slung over his shoulder. Brought him within the temple.

Pasis may have detected a hint of displeasure within the Nagual. While it would be easy to pin this on impatience with how slow the Siren was, it was likely more to do with the extended amount of time spent reflecting on the trophies adorning Pasis' form. It provided an opportunity for the Sin of Envy to reflect on their own shortcomings.

The Atl Chieftain's words drew him out of his gloom. Xohu inhaled, gaze tracing from Pasis to the shamans lining the walls.

"Petitioners, before the spirits," he explained.

Pasis mentioned Tragedy potentially not having enough. The Nagual's tail had flicked, gaze turning appraising.. slowly tracing up to Pasis' face. Xohu couldn't conceal the interest he had taken at that.

The corpse was carefully lowered to the temple floor. A chuckle rolled from his lips. Somehow, the Nagual managed to avoid any small glimmer of happiness reacting their expression, despite the laugh.

"I need some time, my friend, to think of an appropriate offer. Besides.. it feels inappropriate, to attempt to barter for your services, whilst my own debt is still outstanding."

A gesture was given to the corpse. "All Cruxati know of the practices of the Atl, devouring the corpses of fallen foes."

Pale green eyes glimmered with intensity.

"I gift the flesh to you, Chieftain of the Atl. I'll keep the bones."

Stepping further into the temple, Xohu exhaled. He could FEEL the energy within the temple. This place had housed MANY Powerful Sin Magi. People had fought here. Bled here.

The masculine Nagual tapped against the mask. Before.. beginning to stroke his mithril-clawed fingers against the teeth. Gently etching tiny runes into the carved dragon bone..

Continuations of the prayers. But these? These had a sympathetic link, intended to increase the wearer's power: to aid the wearer's bite.
(Xohuiotl)

A small frown. Previously, the runes had been restricted to the underside of the mask. And yet, turning the wood over in his hands, Xohu could see the potential for further artificial leylines to be applied across the piece.

And so, without consulting with the Siren, the Nagual worked runes into the existing mask. Channels in the wood, fed with the Nagual's own blood.

The runes were swirling, primal.

With a long exhale, Xohu had stepped out into the centre of the temple. The temple's true centre. He was surrounded by shamans. Atlians. There was something familiar, and yet utterly foreign about the practice of Cruxati's nearest neighbours

Instinctively, Xohu returned the mask to his face.

Suddenly, it wasn't his face, any longer.

Corruption rose within the temple, pale green eyes STARING at Pasis through the snarling feline mask's slitted eye holes.

A shudder ran through the Nagual: his own flesh shedding blood like rubies.

A wet sound filled the temple. Xohuitol's own flesh shifting, sliced through with great sheets of pale green mirror glass. The Nagual was momentarily vivisected, before dismembered limbs pulled themselves back together.

And for a moment, Xohuitol could almost imagine that he was Pasis.

He could feel the Sin of Greed. Had the corruption penetrated within the wood? Mythril-clad fingers caressed the mask as it pressed against his face.

But it wasn't until Xohuitol began to dance that the runes began to flare with a pale green. The Nagual threw himself into the ritual dance. It was through his motion that he channelled the latent energy within the temple. Channelled it through his own body, and into the mask. Twisting the energy in the process. Corrupting it.

In truth, Xohuiotl - Lotlhuitl - whoever they were - they weren't so sure how long hehad danced. The Sin of Envy's shape shifted as they danced. Enemies. Rivals. Friends. Perhaps a mixture of all three. Reality warped. Corruption flared. The spirits cried out!

It was done. Shuddering, the Nagual had removed the mask. Skin ashen.

And it was offered back to Pasis.
(Xohuiotl)