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[h2]Gibbou[/h2]
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Feat [@tuujaimaa]
[hr]

The gates to Antiquity in the Hall of a Thousand Mirrors were, briefly, opened. A mysterious sheen returned to that dulled glass, liquid aurum spilling from its depths and pooling just beneath its surface--and from that glow came forth the physical form of the God of Truth, stepping outside its realm and into that communal space wherein the Gods could engage in acts of community and conversation. It rarely had a specific purpose for entering that realm--much of what it was required to do demanded its presence within its realm where it could coordinate and navigate the great morass of mortal perception--but, occasionally, it had cause to visit its divine kith and kin. Today was one such occasion: the God of Truth desired to speak with the Mother of the Moon, to rectify its past errors and to put into practice the newly found emotional context it had obtained from such a recent merging with its twin.

So, it stepped into that great ring of stone and directed its senses outwards, soon finding purchase upon Gibbou, apparently leaving Oraelia’s portal. It cast wordless intend towards her, beckoning her forth:

[color=#DFB624]“Hail, Mother of the Moon. Might we speak privately? There is much I wish to discuss with you. There are errors I wish to correct.”[/color]

The moon goddess shot him a horrified stare and then kept moving as though she hadn’t seen him - or rather, as though she -had- seen him and was running away.

In that communal space Firinn did not have the full extent of its deific powers available to it, and was unable to simply arrest Gibbou to prevent her from feeling--and then, it thought, that even if it could do such a thing it would perhaps send the wrong message. Deciding for a more conservative approach, it attempted diplomacy once more:

[color=#DFB624]”I wish to apologise. Our last interaction was coloured by an insensitivity that is native to my condition while alone--without the emotional context of my twin, I am incapable of understanding mortal feelings, never mind divine ones. If you do not wish to talk I will not force you.”[/color]

Though it did not speak, the knowledge of its words--and its sincere regret at how their previous interaction had ended--would simply be something Gibbou could feel, as if through waves in the air.

Gibbou stopped, eyes downcast and fists curled tight. While she didn’t face him, she offered words like an olive branch. [colour=lightblue]”Do you understand this context better now? After two thousand years?”[/colour]

[color=#DFB624]”Without being directly linked to Aicheil, it is difficult--but our realms are linked, and so therein I have an easier time of it. It is not in my nature to feel, but two thousand years have provided… context, yes.”[/color] The words were challenging for it to communicate--as if there were some inborn resistance to the condition of feeling--but it pushed through that feeling regardless, motivated by the newly contextualised remorse and compassion from its most recent interaction with its twin.

Warily, Gibbou turned around to face the Truth God, though her eyes refused to meet with wherever theirs would have been. [colour=lightblue]”Truth be told, I did realise that you were only trying to help me back then. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I’m sorry.”[/colour] She sucked sheepishly on a tooth. [colour=lightblue]”So… Privately, was it?”[/colour]

[color=#DFB624]”It would appear, then, that we may both obtain closure after so long. Please, follow.”[/color]

With that said, Firinn turned and disappeared once again through the mirror that represented the portal to its realm, vanishing through the glass as if it had never existed within Antiquity at all. Spread out before that entrance there would be a seemingly endless corridor of mirrors on all sides, each containing a memory or a feeling from the many, many mortal lives that had been lived in the gods’ long absence from Galbar. They were currently scattered, unorganized, random tidbits of information that Firinn had sorted--but as soon as Gibbou walked through that portal they would reflect her, and mortal memories of interactions with her. The draug, Twilight, the Druids of the Long Stride--each would have memories and feelings playing themselves out behind an infinite sheet of glass. Firinn would manifest on the floor, beneath her feet--taking the place of her reflection within this hallowed realm.

[color=#DFB624]”I have only ever sought to help, but I did so in a way that would help me--not a way that would help you. I wish to rectify that mistake, if you still require assistance, now and at any point--I wish only for us to be… friends, I think the term is?”[/color]

Gibbou was absorbed by an image of Twilight, regret and discomfort clouding her expression. [colour=lightblue]”Yeah…”[/colour] she mumbled absent-mindedly. [colour=lightblue]”Yeah, friends is right.”[/colour] She finished looking at the mirage. [colour=lightblue]”Did you and your brother discuss these feelings? Do you feel like you understand now? What a friend is?”[/colour] She followed deeper into the tunnel.

[color=#DFB624]”Hm. I… have seen every interaction of every mortal since my birth. Each time one of our precious charges has called another friend I have seen that interaction, understood the context, made sense of what is. To understand and to feel are not alike--but in this moment, replete with the grace of the Two-as-One, I know what it means to feel that kinship. I have never seen you interact, but I imagine it must be as you and your own twin feel?”[/color]

As the echoes of its intent reverberated throughout the halls the images on the mirrors changed, shifting from those that knew the name Gibbou to those that declared their friendship for one another--friends becoming lovers, friends standing up for one another, friends comforting one another through loss. The totality of that mortal experience splayed itself upon those panes of crystal-glass, echoing within and around one another like the threads of a great tapestry.

[color=#DFB624]”What I had meant to say before, the meaning I had intended to give you… It is that mistakes do not and cannot define you. Cruelty, it seems, is a necessary consequence of freedom--of life. That some of your creatures act cruelly is not a mistake, but a consequence of their Truth--of the collective Truth. It… is not your fault. It cannot be your fault, for you sought only to create and not to control. Does that… make sense?”[/color]

[colour=lightblue]”It does, it does,”[/colour] mumbled the moon goddess back as she squatted down to look at one particular reflection of two childhood friends confessing their feelings to one another. [colour=lightblue]”I know it’s not my fault -personally- that dovregubbes ravage the countryside a few times a year, or that askeladds keep hexing chickens to lay stone eggs. I do not -make- vampires drink the blood of innocents. I did have a considerable hand in making them as they are, though, and -that’s- what brings me guilt.”[/colour] She gestured to an image of a friend comforting another. [colour=lightblue]”Even mortals will blame themselves for something they haven’t necessarily done themselves - and it takes time to realise that it both was and wasn’t your decisions’ fault that what happened, happened.”[/colour] She stood up and shrugged. [colour=lightblue]”Took me two thousand years anyway - I’m not even over it, to be fair. Talking to Orey helps, but emotions like these are hard to get rid of. That’s why I reacted the way I did back then.”[/colour]

[color=#DFB624]”We… are not them. They are, as I understand it, all burdened by a shard of sadness. Each of them knows that it must all end one day, and that each day lived is a day they can never get back. We Divines are eternal, and cannot rightly conceive of our own endings--when you endowed your avatar with a shard of your soul, you replaced that burden of sadness. Now, little Twilight lives freely and without that fear of death--but a mortal mind is not meant to comprehend eternity. He will soon realise how much you mean to him, and how much what he may do will mean to those around him.”[/color]

Firinn took a moment to pause, no longer walking beneath Gibbou as her reflection, and manifesting itself within the Hall of a Thousand Mirrors physically. Its mantle-claws wove themselves into hands, and its body shimmered with an aureate lustre for a moment before rippling out and shifting until only the appearance of Gibbou remained.

[color=#DFB624]”It is my nature to reflect. As I am now, connected to you and my Twin both, I can feel the echoes of what you felt. It is not the same, but… it is hard. I am sorry that I did not understand. I am sorry that I burdened you with something you did not deserve. Let us think upon the fact that it brought us together, here, in this moment--let us be thankful that it paved the way for things to be as they are now, and not dwell upon the pain that they caused.”[/color]

It reached out its two hands, opening itself wide, as if to offer the Mother of the Moon a hug. Gibbou immediately backed away with her palms presented. [colour=lightblue]”Woah, okay! Okay. Don’t, don’t rush on ahead, Fìrinn - hugs are between friends.”[/colour]

It paused, as if dwelling on the thoughts and the refusal to reconcile with that most intimate and connective of gestures, and looked around. It turned its head towards an image of Twilight upon re-entering Galbar and the great weave, and reached a hand out to touch that mirror gently, as if in thought. After a moment it recoiled, as if remembering an echo of that interaction, and turned back to Gibbou, looking her in the eyes from within an illusion of her own form. 

[color=#DFB624]”... forgive me. You are so like them, and yet so… not. It is hard to know where one ends and another begins--it is hard to capture the nuance of that fragility between panes of glass and stolen images, and yet that is all I have. I will make mistakes… we will make mistakes.”[/color]

Gibbou cast a sideways glance back at the entrance. She drew a short breath through the nose and spoke, [colour=lightblue]”Your brother tried the exact same thing, y’know - hugging. It’s not, it’s not that I don’t like it, don’t get me wrong. When I said…”[/colour] She sighed. [colour=lightblue]”’Hugs are between friends’... I’m sorry, that came out wrong. Hugs are, well, hugs are for friends who know each other well - like me and my sister, for example! The two of us, weee…”[/colour] Her fingers exchanged between pointing at herself and at the reflection of herself. [colour=lightblue]”... We are still getting there, y’know?”[/colour]

[color=#DFB624]”Hm. I understand--it is… Mortalkind has a linear understanding of time. Events happen in concurrence, one after the other, like footsteps in the sand.”[/color] Firinn gesticulated to illustrate its point, the mirrors around it showing the timeline of a single human’s birth, right up until their death. It stretched on and on around them, a great circle, each window arrayed in perfect order.

[color=#DFB624]”Yet we gods are not limited to such a perspective. I see all at once--catching up with what was, processing what is, and gazing into the Worldweave above to determine what will be. I do not think… no, we do not perceive time in the same manner at all. You, by choice or design, perceive it as they do--perhaps to better fulfil your purpose as a protector. I, to fulfil mine, see so much at once--it is an infinite series of circles, spilling out from one another and into one another all at once. It has been two thousand years since we last spoke for you, but in my understanding of time, it…”[/color]

Firinn cut itself off, trying to find the feelings and thoughts to express what it meant without forcing an unwelcome perspective upon Gibbou. It stood there, motionless, for seconds stretching on towards infinity, the lights around it sparking and flaring as if to signify the deep contemplation it was in. After an indeterminable amount of time it spoke again:

[color=#DFB624]”is like living through the entirety of every mortal’s life all at once, seeing the infinite realities of what they could do, what they could be, what they hope and imagine and dream. That is the influence of Aicheil, and it is like being so full of sensation that the self peels away, cast to the wind. It could have been mere moments ago that we spoke, or uncountable eternities--I can never know what it feels like to you, even now.”[/color]

[colour=lightblue]”I don’t envy you, Fìrinn…”[/colour] sighed Gibbou. [colour=lightblue]”I don’t envy you one bit. You and your brother received tasks that I can’t even begin to wrap my head around.”[/colour] One of the mirrors showed her moon and she walked over and gestured to it. [colour=lightblue]”My moon’s simple, yet so sweet and beautiful in its own right. It exists, and there’s no doubt about it. The night’s the same - absence of my sister’s sun, the planet’s own shadow cast upon itself - it’s simple and beautiful. Now truth? Dreams? No… Whether by design or choice - I’m not sure either, honestly - I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it.”[/colour]

Firinn nodded along as Gibbou expressed her thoughts, mirroring her actions and feelings with its own. It, too, walked up to a mirror as she did--but beckoned forth a different scene: druids resting peacefully beneath the silvery opalescence of that great orb in the sky, safeguarded from harm and worry.

[color=#DFB624]”Mortal life, in its entirety, is so precious… So valuable. It is all that matters, and it is just a single thread in the great weave of creation. I do all that I do, endure all that I must, for their sake: that their lives might continue to play out. That their every action might never be forgotten--that there will be one, in the end, who witnessed and remembered it all. It is what I was made to do. There can be no sadness in the realisation and fulfillment of my purpose. I… failed to give you that same serenity. I shall never forget that. But now, perhaps, I might make amends.”[/color]

Its hands unwove themselves from the gossamer blanket of that reflected image, becoming the claw-tips that they were meant to be. They punctured a single pane of glass, creating a ripple within, and held it tightly until it glowed a beautiful gold--and then released that ripple along all of the mirrors within that great hall, flooding the space with visions of shimmering light and colour.

[color=#DFB624]”I have watched with keen interest the comings and goings of your vampires. The nature of your punishment, the effects it has had upon Truth.”[/color] Firinn began, moving forwards and stepping out from the refracted shell of Gibbou’s appearance, letting it fade away into the background as it took back its own true form.

[color=#DFB624]”Such justice is not a concept I preside over, but those Vampires who exist have all, each in their own way, committed an egregious crime against the nature of Truth: they despoil too much, rend the weave around them in vast and irreparable cuts. To bring them back in line with Truth, to contain their wanton bloodlust and set the greater Truth to rights, I offer thee this: Each night, as the hunger sets in, each of the accursed shall remember vividly the final moments of those they slaked their thirst ‘pon. They shall remember those whose lives they have taken from the deceased’s perspective and shall consider what their ambition has wrought. Does this sound agreeable to thee, Mother of the Moon?”[/color]

Gibbou blinked. [colour=lightblue]”You mean, they’d have to relive all the terrible things they’ve done every time they get hungry?”[/colour]

[color=#DFB624]”Just so. They shall consider their power, and realise that its price can only be measured in equal suffering to that which they have caused.”[/color]

[colour=lightblue]”Hmm… Nnng… See, on one hand, I’m not all about having people relive their trauma over and over again. That’s really harsh on the head, after all. Though on the other haaand...[/colour] Her eyes narrowed. [colour=lightblue]”... It would serve them right for what they’ve done. I say you can go on ahead with that! Sounds pretty much just like an extension of what I had planned for them, honestly,”[/colour] she added with a smirk.

[color=#DFB624]”I cannot say that I would have created such creatures, but… they have deterred many a mortal from fratricide or worse. Cruelty and pain are simply facts of the world--and though these vampires are born from those lamentable traits, this curse has prevented more harm than it has caused. I have collected many thoughts of ambitious murder, and even more so of the price that such an action incurs--though it may not seem so without proper scrutiny, mortalkind is safer for your and Fe’ris’ efforts. I thank you both for your service, and am only happy to assist.”[/color] 

Firinn beckoned forth an image of a vampire to one of the many mirrors, and then into that scene illuminated the moon with a potent silver light. It placed its true hand upon that moon, shifting its hues from silver to red to gold, and then withdrew. The image faded away into nothingness, as did all of the others--before returning to the great panoply of mortal lives being lived and catalogued.

[color=#DFB624]”It is done. Is there aught else I might assist you with, Mother of the Moon? I am happy to do my part for those I would call friend--even if that does not extend to the closeness so associated with these ‘hugs’.”[/color]

Gibbou looked through a reflection, where one vampire was kneeling and screaming its sorrow to the moonlit heavens. While she knew she shouldn’t feel that way, there was something perversely satisfying about seeing it. [colour=lightblue]”Yes, this is good. Hopefully, even the most degenerate of vampires will now realise the horror of their actions.”[/colour] She offered Fìrinn a smile. [colour=lightblue]”Hey… Thanks. I’ll be honest, I--... When you invited me in for a chat, I was… Skeptical. However, I see now that you really have changed.”[/colour] She extended an open palm forward. [colour=lightblue]”I think that’s enough for me to consider you an, uh, a good acquaintance!”[/colour]

[color=#DFB624]”I…”[/color] the God of Truth started, before mirroring Gibbou’s action and pressing its mantle-claw, now an open palm, forward--though stopping short of any actual contact between them. [color=#DFB624]”I knew, then, that change was coming. I… made the mistake of believing that I could in some way, resist change--that if I ensured my purpose could continue in my absence I might be spared that unforeseen calamity. Naive, I suppose, in hindsight--but only through that failing did I become a more realised and truthful version of myself. There is much to lament about how those events unfolded, how our truths intersected… what I am trying to say is that no matter how much the events of the past sucked, they brought us to where we are now. That is something to be thankful for.”[/color]

[hider=Sommar-E]
Firinn wants to make amends with Gib. Gib is reluctant, but Firinn says he changed. They hang out, Firinn tries to hug her, she says no - 2000 year old wounds heal slow. They talk about the nature of friendship and relationships and what gods can and can’t feel in terms of emotions. Firinn offers to make vampires remember everyone they’ve killed when they get hungry, which makes Gibs insta-forgive him for that stuff 2k years ago.
[/hider]

[hider=PeePee]
Gibs: 0MP/5DP
None spent.

Fìrinn: 0MP/5DP
-2DP: Curse Vampires: Every time vampires get hungry and need to feed, they’ll remember everyone they’ve killed for their ambitions.
End: 0MP/3DP
[/hider]