Godclads

Chapter 20-12 Suzerainty (I)

Yeah, yeah, keep crying. Do it louder. Do it more. Hold her closer to your chest and spray that snot all over her hair–that’ll bring her back. Hells. Why stop there? Shove her corpse back up your cunt and leave her there for nine months. See if you recycle your dead wife into being a daughter. Maybe spice things up with a little incest.

Not like you aren’t a stranger to that, judging from your parents and all.

Yeah…

There’s the look I wanted to see.

Hello to you too, Sister Karakan. Been a while. Heard you actually got made a full Prophetess. Just in time for the end of the world.

Now look at you. Hiding on a farm again, killing slaves, and being ignored by your gods.

Hey. You wanna know why they’re not replying? You wanna know why the world’s coming apart around us? Why the sky is falling?

Have you tried communing with them recently?

Tell me: You feel them fall? Your gods, I mean. Did you feel them break? Because I did. I saw their bodies. And damn… them fuckers are more screamers than expected.

Yeah. I know. Let it out. No sense in holding it in. Cry. Cry. Cry. I did it. Remember? Remember how you had me beaten till I stopped? How your “flock” took a hammer and chisel to my teeth. Well. Look at them now. White and pearly.

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: [REDACTED] was the one that saved me that day. Let me out. Turns out, you wasn’t the only ladder-climber around. Turns out, gods can get plenty jealous too.

Oh. Oh, you hear that? Maru must’ve found your boy.

[Laughter]

Screams just like you. Must be proud. Come on. Let’s go. Let’s go see him. Let’s go see the world you lost.

Let’s go see the world I took.

Sky isn’t yours anymore, faither. And don’t think of pulling that knife along your throat. You and I are going to be spending more quality time together, and if I lose you, well, Maru can share your boy with me.

Oh. There it is. There. That makes it all worth you.

You finally know what you are now.

Nothing. Not a godsdamned thing. You are whatever I use you for, and whatever you decide to feed you, whatever I fucking say. Less than a slave! Less than a fucking dog!

I’m gonna do things to you, Karakan. You and I are going to come out of this different people. [Chuckle] Well. I’m gonna come out of this at least.

It’s up to me now. All up to me.

I hold the chains. Me. And no one else. I decide who’s worthy. I decide what to do.

…All you got to do now, is accept.

Accept whatever I give you. Or don’t.

I’m gonna–we’re gonna really learn from each other. I’m gonna find myself in you. [Snarling; sound of arms snapping; woman’s shrieking] I’m gonna find myself using you…

-Samir Naeko toSister Karakanduring the scouring of Death Farm “Skyglade”

20-12

Suzerainty (I)

“I do not like your plan, ghoul, it is loud. It draws attention. Worst of all, it draws attention to me.” A waterfall of falling orange bathed the room in light and shadow, neon staining the crevices of the penthouse as Green River picked up her teacup.

She sat cross-legged on a seat made from emerald and bamboo, and steam obfuscated the view out her windows. What few articles of furniture were applied artistically and efficiently. Her bed–and the den for her fox–was positioned next to the door leading to the living room. Oil and incense burned while she took another sip of green tea before placing it down.

Savoring the taste, she planted her cup down along the far left side of her desk, ensuring its decorated side was facing Avo’s projected form. On the right, another cup was filled to capacity–any more and it would spill.

Both were quiet insults directed toward the creature for causing her so much trouble, but if it noticed or cared, it did not show. Instead, it simply continued glaring blankly at her, its simulated form woven into shape by the locus hanging from the ceiling, positioned between her bed and desk.

Outside, a voluminous koi began to swim up the waterfall, struggling every step of the way as it leaped into and out of the waters, splashing waves of ethereal brightness that tickled Green River’s cognition.

“Have another proposal then?” Avo asked. The phantoms composing its shape shifted closer, choosing to loom over her from behind. “Because Naeko’s going to be talking with you in a few hours. Not going to be good if all his attention is connected to you.”

Green River’s true form rolled its eyes and turned to glare at the ghoul. Her human shell painted, tracing the form of a ghoul using a scalpel, painting on a canvas of fast-healing skin.

Behind her, the exemplar of the wretched species peered down at her work, but its face didn’t change.

She hated that. She hated how easily poise and inscrutability came to it–the armor she spent another lifetime building after her exile and humbling. Monsters were known to her in more likes than one, and the ghouls themselves typically presented little mystique beyond snarling madness.

Avo? It was too patient. Too perceptive as well. Its inner nature was too incongruous with its outer materialization, and for most, this would have been a dissonant thing. But ghouls were never natural beings, and this one was just another step down the steps of the abominable.

The waterfall shrouding distant edifices choked and halted. The koi, skimming across the waters, met open air and began to fall.

“The problem,” Green River said, “is with your portrayal of events. I have reviewed the ‘stageplay’ you composed in your mem-data. Aptly done in most cases, I would say, seeing as it is constructed of more truth than lies. Ox-Three was indeed attacked by the Low Masters. They were indeed involved in the Nether disruptions across Highflame territory. Chambers was indeed a guest in Xin Yunsha. But all these things compound on the same point of pain.”

The woman Green River piloted placed down her scapel and turned to stare at the ghoul from the corner of her eyes. “It makes me look weak. Vulnerable. A victim.”

Avo cocked its head at her, seeming confused. “Good thing. Will reduce suspicion from Naeko. Prevent you from being painted as an accomplice.”

“Yes, certainly. A palatable meal for the Paladin, to be sure, but there are other vectors of danger you have not considered. Things such as how these incidents might appear to my ‘elder madams’ up in the Tiers.”

“Oh.” The ghoul chuffed what she guessed was a laugh, and the fox bit back a snarl. “Making you look bad in front of the sisterhood. I see.”

“It is more than that,” she said. Leaning forward, she took a moment to compose her thoughts. “I am a first daughter. Do you know what this means?”

“That your sisters kicked you out of the womb the first chance they got because you won’t stop talking?”

She ignored the creature’s attempt at humor. “The curse has harmed us in ways deeper than most outsiders–Stillbloods–can understand. We are repetitions of a fixed fate. We birth the same number of children at the same time in our lifespan and each suffer the same pains. But more than this, our abilities are broken among seniority. Beyond the male that dies, there are four daughters to be born. Four daughters suited for four roles predesigned by our masters.”

The ghoul paused and nodded. “Daughters. First daughters belong to the Court of the Scholars. Second to the Court of Servants. Third to the Court of Artisans. Last to the Court of Steeds. Wasn’t always like this.”

“No,” she chuckled. “It was part of the Mandate of Equanimity, for now we are all daughters of a shared fate, denied succor of greater freedom by our erstwhile rulers. Why should we not all be as anointed nobles? For what daughter was any less slave to her body than another? Hence, the powers of the Celestial Court were shattered and distributed to all sisters united by the despair woven into our blood–Sang.”

“Sad story,” Avo said. “But don’t really care. Don’t have time for long-winded–”

She ignored him and continued. “Despite the anointment of the three occupations to mandated roles in their own right and the increased freedom offered by our Incarnates, some traditions are more than just trifling rituals. First daughters remain blessed with wisdom. It comes as something almost akin to an unexpected prescience, or a sheer force of will that makes our younger kindred heed our words. There is power in our age, if only relative. If only by the second.

She sighed and uncrossed her legs a show of vulnerability. “What you see before you are the lowest of first sisters. We are administrators. Managers. Leaders. Our responsibility and privilege is in that of feoffment. People and resources we are in charge of cultivating. People and resources we must maintain and protect. Failure to do so… is considered unethical. Here. Now. After what happened at the block of Ox-Three, and with my ‘subjugation’ under a Low Masters acolyte–or however it is you wish to portray, I fear more control will be stripped from me.”

Avo regarded her flatly. “Very inefficient way of saying you’re afraid to be fired.”

“Replaced,” she said. “And then–should my incompetence be deemed too great–offered as a vessel as a Reincarnate for a sister with provable merits but lacking the proper bloodline. And you do not want this. I assure you.”

Static was flickering beyond her window. Crawling text highlighted with expandable strings of mem-data played in revolving scenes flashing around descending columns, each portraying a different augmentation for sale. In the absence of the waterfall, the koi ascended regardless, fins replaced with engine-like implants.

[ASCENDER: “RISE TODAY.”]

The ghoul frowned. “Sounding a bit like a threat.”

“Just an honest admission. You are merely a single individual of consideration. Any good eldest must ensure the protection of her property and juniors by any means, and information just another weapon. It would not do for either of us to discover your nature or origins, to speak less of the Strix himself or your true involvement in the incidents at Mazzo’s Junction and Nu-Scarrowbur. Such things would be… hard for me to hide if I am removed or detained. Or eliminated.”

Silence followed. Avo stared down at her, and Green River felt a spike of panic explode inside her like shrapnel. The fox shrugged and eyed a nearby patch of shadows, priming the locust bomb inside its human shell alongside numerous other fail-safes should the ghoul strike her wards.

Across a few other sessions, a cell of Necros under her employ was actively simulating her active sequences, matching them to her current Metamind to ensure she wasn’t undone by subtler means of cognitive violability.

She had moved things in place immediately after the removal of the bombs planted within her mind. It was as much an act of insurance as it was an attempt to cleanse the disgust of powerlessness.

The Famines had wielded her as their fool for long enough–the Strix in particular. She had no intention of ever falling back under the palm of his demon-spawn.

But that didn’t mean she wanted the ghoul to be gone from her life. There was still much they could offer the other, much it owed her for what she granted in its time of need.

So it was that she danced the shaking strings and made her dangerous play.

As the koi had fallen during its climb, so had she. But she was looking for more than a few new adornments for her vessel. No. There was but one thing she wanted above all others from the ghoul.

Ensoulment.

“So,” the creature finally asked, breaking the quiet without harming her in any fashion, “what do you want instead? What would be to your palate?”

Both fox and woman smiled. “Just a few slight adjustments. The overall structure of your scheme is… workable. But I wish for more ‘leaks’ to occur. And I want you to leave trace memories of me in the sequences you compromise.”

This struck off a beat of pause into the ghoul. “Why? Won’t this make you look like a snitch? Death sentence in the Warrens.”

The Sang gave a soft laugh and shook her head. “Hardly. That will not be the framing of things. My content producers will see to that. An battle between a disgraced first daughter and a Nolothi terrorist spilling over into Paladin attention will seem more poison than bait to Syndicates. No one wishes to associate with a cult, and no one wishes to incur the ire of the Chief Paladin, for still does his lingering fury echo.”

She filled her cup again and watched the steam rise, masking the tension inside her with nonchalance.

“And it doesn’t make you look weak in front of your masters,” Avo added.

“Wounds won in battle are scars worn with pride,” Green River said. “But if there are only lashes down your back and the marks of manacles lining your neck and hands… Well, No one respects a slave. Messaging, ghoul. Some paint their faces for more than the aesthetic.”

“So they do,” Avo said. He let out a low hiss and clicked his fangs together. Something about that drew from her a slight frown. She had seen it do the action before, but the succession this time almost made it seem planned. Like the creature itself was conducting a performance. “Naeko. Are you sure you can sell this to him?”

“Of course,” she said. “The Chief Paladin is a broken man, but no fool. Even a cracked vase holds an edge. But he is also warrior-bred, and he views this as a hunt. The Low Masters are bigger game, and if we can gift him with their trial, perhaps both our lives will be made far better. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes,” Avo said, but there was an apprehension in him. “Want to be in attendance. Watch proceedings. Inform you on changes.”

Green River went still as a stone. Her stomach came alight with bitter fire, thinking of the years she spent in disgrace since the last war, how the Famine of Defiance had collared her, directed her as she was his tool, and how he handed her reins off to the subhuman creature he dubbed his child after his own passing.

“No.” The word left her as spiteful spit, her rationality unable to halt her flaring heart. Biting back a wince as she realized what she just done, she whipped out a placating hand before Avo could respond. “The lobby I have prepared in the Bazaar has perception limiters and counter-phantasmic controls. And we cannot risk an action on your end triggering Naeko’s awareness.”

She paused. Yes. The last point might even actually be true. “There is too much at risk for that.”

The ghoul ground its fangs together. “Trust isn’t easy when it’s built on blackmail. Know about me. I can null you. Bad foundation for operating without forewarning.”

“You can trust in my self-interest, then,” Green River continued. Swallowing, she pushed another play forward, her nerves unused to risking twice in the same day. “As I have done all I can to keep you safe as a host, I will not betray your confidence as an accomplice. For I wish to ask a prize from you for the offenses I have suffered.”

“Prize?”

“Yes.” The fox licked its lips and the woman spoke the words. “Jhred Greatling was without a Frame. The casualties across Nu-Scarrowbur were missing their ghosts and deaths. Highflame is scouring the Warrens, and Uthred Greatling just resigned from his position and disbanded his House. I’m not threatening you with these details. Nor will Naeko ever learn the truth behind these happenings from me. I have been protecting you from prying eyes. And I have been doing it at first for my own safety, and now for my own interest.”

She stopped talking then, hoping the ghoul would put things together.

“Only certain types of favors I can offer,” Avo said, rasping voice sounding slower and colder. “Snuffing. Nulling. Or Soul. Don’t think you have trouble finding anyone to do the former two for you.”

“Godhood is a freedom few will ever learn,” she said, unable to stop her lip from quivering. “And it is a pain fewer survive losing. We both have wants from each other. We both have our uses. Let me serve mine. And in time, on the foundations of… proper confidence… I wish to discuss the deepening of our association.”

The ghoul just stared. And stared. And stared.

Outside, the advertisement restarted as the waterfall splashed down. The koi began its climb once more.

“We’ll make changes,” Avo said. “Want your memories. The moment you finish with Naeko. Send them. We want to know what happens.”

That indignity she could endure. The fox yipped as Green River smothered the faint embers of promise rising from within her.

The monster said nothing about ensouling her. But this was more than expected. She wasn’t dead. And it hadn’t forced her hand about surrendering her mind.

“Good,” she finally exhaled, “I will–” But Avo didn’t wait for the conversation to end before it dissolved, the phantoms composing it playing the static of a dead channel in its place. Green River frowned at the blank spot and ordered the locus to end the session. “Fucking ghoul.”

What the creature was thinking, she didn’t know. But things were not done, and there was a clearer path ahead.

She just needed to win more of its trust. Or gather more information about where it remained.

One way or another, through whatever means, light or dark, she would take back what she lost, and avenge herself on those that cast her down.

Once more did the koi fall.

Once more did the koi rise, climbing the skies on borrowed wings.

***

“Fuck me, consangs, how did Avo spent a month around the sow without eating her,” Chambers said, collapsing Avo’s avatar around himself. “The only thing I hate worse than a person that speaks in essays is if the half-strand’s a snitch–and this bitch is definitely going to snitch on us. I can feel it.”

He had wanted to null her mind hollow using a trauma pattern the moment she started hinting at the “information leaks” that might happen but Tavers stopped him from following his satisfaction.

“Not right now,” Tavers said. “And you really don’t need to give Naeko a murder to follow and all that history to find. Better wait to see if Raldi can sneak his way into her Meta and burn whatever she’s got on you guys first.”

“You know they encased me in this flesh sac-thing, right,” Chambers said, trying to mask his shiver of arousal as a thing of disgust. Truth be told, he kinda enjoyed it in a fucked-up way. It was all grippy and warm. Sure, it had him bound in a weird flesh prison, but grippy and warm made him happy in ways that–

“Chambers,” Tavers said, snapping at him. “Focus.”

“Huh? Oh, I was just having a trauma flashback.”

The squire squinted and the skin around her lips extended uncannily. “Sure you were.” She eyed him from an angle as he shuffled awkwardly atop the throne. “So. We’re going to make her look like a survivor instead of a victim. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Chambers said. “Put the new mem-data in with the terrorist attack we have planned, new threats I recorded for the Highflame and Ori-Thaum, and we might just have a coherent enough series of fuckeries created for Naeko to follow.”

“Yeah,” Tavers sighed. “Ori-Thaum working with Chivalrics to assassinate one of their own. Only to also be working with the Low Masters to clean up the Golds in the end. Honestly, it sounds like bad spy shit.”

Chambers chuckled. “You know, the nasty thing is it's actually mostly true.”

Sunrise vibrated, signaling another update for Naeko’s movements. {Chief Paladin Naeko has been spotted in the northwestern portion of the Xin Yunsha district in the Yuulden-Yang Sovereignty. Presently, he is eating dumplings outside a street market and commiserating about Stormjumpers with a few surrounding youths. Their hearts are beating at dangerous speeds.}

{Good job.} Chambers sent a digital thumbs-up to the swarm form. {Keep on his ass. I want to know when he takes a shit, how long the shit takes, and what’s inside the shit.}

{From extrapolations conducted using known data and his current dietary habits, the answers are respectively: in eight hours and twenty-four minutes, within thirty seconds, and leftover corn from the dumplings. The Chief Paladin tends to swallow before he finishes chewing.}

{...I love you, flying bug thing.}

{I am returning to my task before you begin making thinly veiled sexual remarks. This has been predicted as well.}

Chambers frowned. Can’t give anyone love these days.

As Naeko’s positional marker was updated in his Neurodeck, a wall of glass flashed in the corner of his left eye. Both Chambers and Tavers turned to see their reflection quivering, the sign of a passage coming active.

From out the polished sheen, Draus stepped back into the George Washington with a dozen or so scalps hanging from her hip and a bored expression on her face. Dark red blood dripped from her fists, elbows, and a broken bone-made sword she was holding.

“Draus,” Chambers said, grinning at the approaching Reg. She gave him a blank nod and his heart did a flip. No glare, no sneer, no shooting him in the head with the projectile launcher. He really was becoming part of this cadre. “Back already! How’s the Sunderwilds? Where’s Avo and the juv? We got a new hidey-hole or what?”

The Regular shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. Filled with the shortest half-strands I’ve ever seen. Shit at fighting too.” Chambers pointed at the blood on her and she just grunted. “Like hittin’ soft, wet sacks. Anyways. Avo and Dice are gonna be a while. Got some business to handle. Turns out, our little killer’s daughter to the Fallwalker’s favorite whore.”

Chambers blinked. “What? She’s like a princess or something.”

Draus sneered. “Nah. Fucker got cucked by his own guard.”

The half-strand nodded as if that explained everything. Then, the implications behind her words punched through him like a flechette. Chambers shuddered as his head whipped between Draus and the passage. “Wait… Cuck… enclave… They can fuck?”

“Ah shit,” Draus muttered.