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In a bar, there is a girl.
She looks like she has saved up all of her decadent and slothful impulses for a solid decade and is indulging them all at once. She is sprawled on a couch with a book she's only half-reading, and an ice cream sundae, and smiiiiiiling.
kithabel and milan in milliways
ertia
ertia
"And whose fault is that?" she grins.
She turns her attention to Jewel. Who the heck is this dude and what would he do with a planet and the power to travel to arbitrary other worlds and, generally, omnipotence?
She turns her attention to Jewel. Who the heck is this dude and what would he do with a planet and the power to travel to arbitrary other worlds and, generally, omnipotence?
no-return
Jewel is pretty much as advertised.
He was raised as a Career tribute, trained to kill in the arena so that he could volunteer at seventeen or eighteen when his chance of victory was highest, and knew from a very young age that fuck that noise. The exact plan took shape gradually over the course of his years in training. He played the role of a child-gladiator, learned every necessary skill, honed them to perfection, demonstrated his prowess in front of the judges impressively enough to earn the highest possible score... and then threw it all away with deliberate theatricality, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that his death was a refusal to play the game even with all possible advantages on his side. That he died because he didn't want to kill anyone, not because he couldn't.
And now?
If they're serious about giving him a chance to take over the world... he can't turn that down. Or, more precisely, he won't. He has a choice, and he chooses to take responsibility for his country - or planet, if there are more people on it than he thought. He doesn't yet know what exactly he's going to do, but he knows what he wants: as many people as possible safe and happy and well-fed and leading flourishing lives. Even the ones he hates, if he can manage it. Under the unaccustomed pressure of potential omnipotence, hatred falls away with surprising ease. If he can do anything, then what he'll do is help.
He was raised as a Career tribute, trained to kill in the arena so that he could volunteer at seventeen or eighteen when his chance of victory was highest, and knew from a very young age that fuck that noise. The exact plan took shape gradually over the course of his years in training. He played the role of a child-gladiator, learned every necessary skill, honed them to perfection, demonstrated his prowess in front of the judges impressively enough to earn the highest possible score... and then threw it all away with deliberate theatricality, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that his death was a refusal to play the game even with all possible advantages on his side. That he died because he didn't want to kill anyone, not because he couldn't.
And now?
If they're serious about giving him a chance to take over the world... he can't turn that down. Or, more precisely, he won't. He has a choice, and he chooses to take responsibility for his country - or planet, if there are more people on it than he thought. He doesn't yet know what exactly he's going to do, but he knows what he wants: as many people as possible safe and happy and well-fed and leading flourishing lives. Even the ones he hates, if he can manage it. Under the unaccustomed pressure of potential omnipotence, hatred falls away with surprising ease. If he can do anything, then what he'll do is help.
ertia
"I am impressed with the discernment of your whimsy," Kithabel remarks to Sherlock. "It's possible, though, that we can't actually omnipotence you, Jewel - requires a certain compatibility with a person who wants to at least temporarily turn into a dragon, installing the omnipotence has some mind-affecting effects that I predict may not bother you at all but might disturb candidate dragons, and I suspect that my omnipotence doesn't reach as far as determining dragon-compatibility in a foreign magic system so we'd be crossing our fingers and hoping a resurrected unicorn can do it. Maybe I can just open the door to that world and ask a unicorn if that's possible at all first."
ertia
Kithabel goes and stares down the door and pulls on it. Be that world with the unicorns because she says so, c'mon.
Hello, that world with the unicorns. She sticks her head out and looks around for unicorns in case the Wild Magic has anticipated her visit or something.
Hello, that world with the unicorns. She sticks her head out and looks around for unicorns in case the Wild Magic has anticipated her visit or something.
ertia
"I need to ask one whether unicorns can determine in advance whether and with whom someone is capable of Dragonbonding."
speak-softly
"If this need is urgent on the scale of the fate of worlds, you may expect a unicorn to be along shortly," she says. "Otherwise it is possible that you will have to find one yourself."
speak-softly
"In that case I suppose it could go either way." She pauses consideringly, then adds, "My name is Rosheverel, Bonded to Saravasse."
ertia
"I met Saravasse last time I was here. I don't know how long ago that was for you guys though."
speak-softly
"It has been a few years. The world of Thilanushinyel has been doing very well thanks to your help."
