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Adila!

It’s... not what you expected. As you fast-forward, you see flashes of Hyperborea from above. You see devil-fortresses, and the first sun and moon. You see the Shadow War, as Eupheria’s nightmare army spreads whimsy and misrule across the land. You see Ouroboros wrapping herself around the world, seizing her tail in her mouth, shoring it up against the black and endless sea beyond. You see rainbows and the growth of mountains and fireworks and...

You see a cold and desolate wasteland, Argossa split down its trunk with black rot, its limbs drooping and broken. The sun and moon are gone. The stars shine unnaturally bright over the frozen desolation that once was a sea.

And then you’re in Hornet’s arms, and she’s holding you like she never intends to let you go. You’re on the edge of the wedding preparations, which are being made (slowly and clumsily) by Garthim on sorcerous autopilot. As long as you are very, very careful... you won’t activate their deep predatory instincts.

But Hornet’s just standing in plain sight, not moving a muscle, squeezing you tighter and tighter as one of them lumbers past, trailing white lilies from a large bag in its claws.


Princess Adila feels very small.

The enormity, the weight, the meaning of Argossa... everything it's seen, everything it means. She's known that the mysterious little island that she visited a [thousand years/months] ago had a connection to its roots, but this is the first time she's really gotten a glimpse as to what that means. This is the axis around which the world turns, already ancient when the devil-grandmothers first beat the concept of time into the scales of the young earth. She couldn't bring it down if she gnawed upon its roots for the rest of time, but Oberon might do it within the week...

+Hornet?+ she murmurs, as small as she feels, wrapped up like a wyrmling in Hornet's arms. +Princess Hornet?+

There's no response. Oh no.

She screwed it up. She'd done exactly what she'd told Hornet not to do - she'd gotten distracted by the visions of the cosmos and had let go. She'd let the fate of the world distract her from her friend (surely the scale justifies -)

She doesn't let herself finish the thought before diving right back the way she came, closing her mind against the visions of midnight futures.
Adila!

You wrap time around yourself and Hornet. Around you, the darkness leeches away into the water, leaving the debris bobbing on the waves, washing up against the roots. Garthim drop into the water, going limp, letting the waves bob them up and down as they become inactive. You give Hornet the gift of time enough to come to terms with your presence. To let her know that you aren't going to leave.

Finally, she looks up at you through her goggles. "What do you want me to do?" She asks, still guarded, but... but listening. For once, she's listening to you, fully intent.


+I'm going to do...+ Adila flailed about looking for an expeditious explanation of the true nature of time. +... something really dangerous. I've never done it deliberately before, or with another person, and there's a lot that can go wrong. But it's the only way we can catch up with the others without...+

She swallows. She's nervous. She's really nervous. She doesn't like any of this.

+You might see visions of the past. Or the future. I might see them too, and I'm sorry if I see anything private. But no matter what you see I need you to hold on tightly to me, okay?+ she resists as best she can the urge to over-emphasize that last point. She doesn't know how to talk to Princess Hornet at all but... she's smart, yeah? If nothing else she's smart. She shouldn't treat her like a child.
"DO YOU THINK I NEED EYES TO KILL YOU!? DO YOU THINK I'M SOME ASSHOLE HACK WHO HAS TO AIM THEIR MAGIC? BY THE TIME I'M DONE THERE WON'T BE ENOUGH LEFT OF THIS TOWN TO FIT IN THIS CLOSET -"

First thing's first, if his hands are unbound he's going to remove the hood.

Party's over.

Talk Sense: [(5, 5)+2 = 12]

"Listen! Things just got made simple for us. It's a lot easier talking sense into a mage than a mob. They didn't lock us in with the bloody dog-thing, did they? Let's see if we can't ask why they're all scared of rats in the first place..."

Pause. Think.

Door will open outwards. Easier to break open, means we can't hide Ailee behind it when it's opened, means that the 'jam a chair under it' trick would work against us. This is a wagon, so there's also down through the wooden floor? It'd be too dark to see under there. I'd have to trust Ailee not to just run while I'm distracting them, though... I'll take those odds.

"I've got plans. The folk are mad, but they still want to talk. Absolute last resort, I think we could fight our way out of here, but I don't know how we'd get much further than the door. Do you want to do this the honest way, or chance some parlour magic?"


Ailee abruptly started when the hood was taken off her head. "This is the worst kidnapping ever," she seethed. "Fine. We'll do things your way, let's see if we can come out of this with enough of the bar intact to forget this entire fucking experience."
The Child of the Sun waits for judgement to be passed upon her.

It is not all with grace. She keeps her head down, not daring to search for the lighthouse's eyes. As the silence continues her breath becomes shorter, more fearful. She squeezes her eyes shut. Every minute that passes with her sins unaddressed compounds the seriousness of her crime. The offense she has given is so dire, the pain she has inflicted is so serious that she is being left kneeling and unaddressed upon the doorstop. There are unpracticed tears, and unpracticed attempts to control them. There are ears and instincts shrieking at every sound of bird and hound in the distance that cannot be addressed, for distraction would show insincerity in her quest for penance. There is a secret wish for a mother as gentle and kind as she's trying to be, who would use a smile and a miracle to explain everything and make everything better.

The stone is so cold beneath her fingers. She's never felt anything like it. Her hand begins to tremble, and then with a sound of anguish, she throws her arms around the lighthouse as best as she is able and she cries and cries and says that she's sorry and that she's lost and that she didn't mean it. And as she does, she tries with all her wishing heart to bring as much warmth to this cold stone as she can.

And all about Fortitude, what was already a very hot day turns into a scorcher. Within twenty minutes the town erupts in groans as the ramshackle old power grid overloads under the strain of trying to keep everything cool in the face of the Sun's apology.
Adila!

You have a plan. It is a terrible plan, but it is a plan that has more of a chance of succeeding than most of the other plans. You need to get up this massive, achingly huge tree without being detected. Dragons are big and tend to be easily detected, but you are the TIME DRAGON, which is crucial for the success of this plan.

Step one: become kitten-sized, hop into Hornet's arms.
Step two: fast-forward to the part where you're standing on the top of Argossa with Hornet.
Step three: immediately find a place to hide and begin reconnaissance.
Step four: identify mission targets (Ourania, fellow princesses, Oberon) and proceed from there.

There is only one problem: you need Hornet to trust you enough to hold on and not let go while you propel both of you forwards through time. It's going to be disorienting and confusing, and if she drops you she risks being lost in the time vortex. You could leave her behind, but you might as well toss her directly to the Garthim to save time if you do that.

This is complicated by the fact that Hornet has gone completely non-verbal, and is huddled with her arms around her knees and her head hidden behind them. What do you say to her, Adila?


She needs to go. She can't risk carrying Hornet with her. She can't risk talking when she might be overheard. She looks up at the branches of Argossa. Even though the pages in her mind are silent now she's still aware of all her predecessor's secret plans for storming this place, defenses and shadowed alcoves, a plan centuries in the making ready and waiting for that moment when she'd need to overthrow the ruler of the world. All she needs to do is make the same decision Adila I would have made and leave Hornet behind. She can save her friends, save everyone -

She closes her eyes.

Despite everything she knows, despite seeing Adila I herself break down in weeping and renounce her own harsh practicality, it's still the thoughts she's accustomed to thinking in. Duty! Mission! Sacrifice! Loneliness! As though she could do this alone! But just as she starts to push back against the thoughts her little light fickers and grows dim against her breast and she realizes with a sick start why it's so easy to think that way.

Because the alternative is fear.

If she steps off the prepared path, if she makes her own decisions, she'll have to confront things like - like, like her friends being captured, like Dandy being captured, like the feel of fingers around her heart, like the knowledge she's weak and can't do this alone. Being a princess means being vulnerable and afraid and heartbroken. And with all of those emotions looming, doesn't it make sense to look for alternatives?

She doesn't give into it, of course. There's no way she could, not after all she's seen, all she's learned, all the strength and support she's been given. All of Argossa's branches are weighing down on her but better that than abandoning a f-friend in need.

She folds her wings. Turns away from the tree, back towards Hornet, and gently nuzzles her shoulder for the first time. +Princess Hornet? It's okay. I'm here. It's okay. Take as long as you need. I'm here.+
For just a minute, just one minute... everyone gets off their bullshit.

Comstar shuts the fuck up. Rambangel lowers his gun to wipe away a tear. JuneBird stops mid-way through crawling across the floor in search of something that can cut through silk wrist bindings to just watch and tear up. @Tigerphim lets out an appreciative purr. Bode, invisible in the rafters, lowers his multisniper rifle so he's watching through his own eyes rather than a scope. Prometheus stops thinking about being the biggest robot. Cinders puts down the pipe organ she'd been getting ready to throw. There are no interruptions. There are no loud noises. For a moment everyone is just happy for you.

All of the chaos of your lives is on pause for a moment, in that way that normally only happens when you're alone together - but this time, it's so pure, so powerful, that it doesn't matter that you're not alone. Everybody can see it, and everyone can feel it so intensely that, just for a moment, you've bought the whole world into the serenity that exists between the two of you.
It's perhaps unexpected that Ailee doesn't immediately open up with her full arsenal of terrifying, forbidden spellpower - but the keen eared observer would notice instead the brief little pleasured flick of her ears at the word 'tall'. It puts her in a good mood, and so the verbs stay in the dictionary.

"I see," she said, all sweetness. "So your cunning frog brain has identified me as some sort of spy, then? Someone who has come here with subtlety in mind? I look to you -" she rolls her bare white shoulders, feeling a crackle of energy go through her fur markings, "- like someone in disguise, desperately hoping that your sharp eyes wouldn't detect my -" she waggles her ears, bold and large and uncovered, "- true nature? Well, I am shocked and impressed! You'd better go! Get the town's mage! You'll surely need the most potent sorcerer of this little burg to figure out what to do with a cunning trickster like me, won't you?"
“Do you have any idea how little I need this right now? Put those guns down, you little—“

She stops, smooths down her hair, takes a deep breath. Count to five. Think about Euna’s smile.

“Hey, sorry,” she starts again. “I get the gesture, I didn’t mean to lose my cool. Thanks for showing up, Dommy, I was worried when you didn’t RSVP. It’s a little late for this, though; you really should have done the whole fake kidnapping shtick at my bachelorette’s.”


"This is deadly serious," said some rambo-looking motherfucker who was being vary careful not to flex his way out of the flowing white angel dress that you had on standby just in case a very particular form of inspiration struck at the last minute. Little adorable wings and everything. "You're going to marry Dominus - and as soon as the paperwork is signed we're going to drain your bank account and use your financial empire to fund the restoration of the old world order. Now get out there!"

You're shoved at gunpoint out onto the stage - and into the arms of a surprised looking Comstar. "Who the hell are you people?" she says as the soldiers storm out onto the stage.

But there is murder in her eyes and stretched across her mouth, and only maybe a twelfth of that is directed at her fiancée. If looks could kill (and in some universes, they can!), Euna's glare would be deadlier than the death gun pointed at her right now. Actually, all things considered, it probably still is. It's just, if the mean look doesn't work? She's pretty helpless right now. She needs a plan. Or time. Or help.

"I'm gonna give you... ten seconds to tell me what the fuck you think it is you're doing here. And then because this is such a special day, I'll give you an extra five to leave without doing it. You can tell Comstar she god damn well knows why she didn't get an invitation."


"This is a heist," said DeathGun69. "We are heisting your wedding. You and @Sarahphim are both going to marry Comstar instead of each other. Wah ha ha!"

"Such a brilliant plan!" swooned SSJ2Rick.

"She's so smart!" said BloodHackerXxX

This has the feel of one of those plans with a lot of question marks between here and profit, but such is on brand for Comstar plans.

There's not any time to think about it further, because the music to announce your arrival has started to play. Your unconventional bridesmaids gesture you out into the aisle, glowing and radiant in the midst of falling lily petals, towards a stage where the most beautiful @Sarahphim you've ever seen is waiting for you. Also Comstar, a couple of glowing pink robots, and like fifty armed soldiers are pointing guns at each other and the audience but... in this moment, does it matter?

Beg pardon, he knew exactly what he was getting into. His sister's associates include a genie, a pirate, a mutant, and an honest-to-goodness looney toon, and that's only some of the human-shaped ones. He'd crunched the numbers when the invitations went out, and there was a 100% chance of sitting next to weirdness. Not least, because he's Sara's family, and they've given each other shit since birth, so why not at her wedding?

That's why he and Locker have been improving his flexibility.

So as the Queen and the Tiger get busy--and dear sweet merciful heaven he could have gone his entire life without learning how an amazon and a tiger kiss--his rear scoots forwards on the chair until he's able to feed himself horizontally through the gap between seat and the backrest.

And with that, he's off to find and edit the seating chart, because obviously that's what he's supposed to do.


So. Problem. The seating chart has already been hacked. All of the rows are to be filled with THE GLORIOUS CREATIONS OF DOCTOR SYLVANIUS, who has sent notice that they are arriving slightly late. With a grim sensation you look up at the sky where a dozen interplanetary transport missiles are closing in from high orbit surrounded by blazes of fire. They'll be here in minutes.

"Hey Brainstorm," said Prometheus over the comms. "Can I pleaaaaaaaaase hijack some of those incoming combat robots? I promise I'll use their powers for good. Pleaaaaaaaaase?"
Fortitude doesn't have a good context for dealing with explosions. The last one was a couple of winters ago in an event that has been slanderously hypothesized to have something to do with Rinley and all of those missing fireworks. This results in a population profoundly unprepared to handle a detonation of enormous size and ferocity coming from the old lighthouse. Some people raise their heads and hands to look off into the distance. Plenty of birds make the decision to get into the air and circle around, squawking urgently. A couple of dogs howl and bark because they were just looking for an excuse. A cat falls off a windowsill and pretends he meant to do that.

But there are no followups. No kaiju monsters or sustained firework aftershocks or invading star-eyed Riders from beyond, so everyone mostly just goes back to their own business afterwards and assumes that it'll sort itself out. Fortitude is that kind of place.

There is now a crater besides the lighthouse, and a white-hot shattered hole of molten stone that cuts right through the structure. The ground is burning, the sand is fusing to glass, the rocks have shattered, gouts of steam erupt from the lake where little fragments of molten fire have landed. For all the energy of the scene, though, the excitement has worn off a little bit too - the occupant of the crater has been lying there for about thirty minutes now and it's gotten to the point where a couple of enterprising birds have landed on nearby trees on the off chance there's a snack to be had. They're only metaphorically correct.

A hand the colour of Baharat spices reaches for the edge of the pit. Jasper Inkra emerges, standing, blinking, staring in all directions at the quiet Fortitude afternoon. It doesn't matter from how close or far away you see her, her face is always indistinct and her eyes are always perfectly, agonizingly in focus. There's tears in them - hurt, confusion, fear. But then they fix upon the lighthouse and they harden with resolve and compassion.

She steps towards the old stone structure. Lays her hand upon it, body alight with divine energy. And she speaks unto the building, "I am very sorry, sir, that I struck you. I swear that it was unintentional and I shall work with all my strength to restore you to your former grace and glory."

There is no reply. That is okay. It is only polite to wait. She is in the wrong here, after all, and will accept whatever judgement this strange giant chooses to pass upon her.
Jasper Inkra
The Child of the Sun

Star Sign: All of the stars eclipsed in blackest midnight, weeping together in darkness for their fallen sister
Grades (Art): A's
Grade (other): Pity C's
Athletics: Like a salmon climbing an escalator - a lot of muscle and perseverance but still doing something pretty fundamentaly wrong.
Blood type: you probably don't want a transfusion of Jasper's blood
Animal: Golden Retriever
Favorite food: Halloumi, baked with honey

Bonus XP
Players use gratitude hands (e.g., hand-on-fist bow, hand-to-heart, fist-bump) because...
...their character’s gratitude to you/your PC reached the player’s heart.
...you/your PC supported/played up their character concept/direction.

Will 6/8
Miracle Points 5/5

Skills
Courtly Manners 3
Incarnation of the Sun 2
Riding 1
Art 1
Lore 1

Health Levels
3 Normal
1 Tough
3 Divine

Powers
You are functionally immortal.
You can influence the weather and the sky with your mundane actions.
You can radiate hope.
If you’re ever sufficiently broken to show the other side of your nature, you can radiate disillusionment or despair instead.
You can send out your consciousness in a sunbeam.
The nuclear furnace of your stomach can digest basically anything.
You can in theory turn into a gigantic sun-kaiju thing.

Bonds
The Prodigy 2 - She fascinates me
Little Island 1 - I love little island, though I don't feel ready to live there
Nightmare's Angel - She's startling, but somehow I kind of get her.

Quests


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