[ENSŌ] - THE TEMPEST NEVER DIES

[thankgods]

Who: Everyone!
What: The final player enters the field
When: April 30th and onward
Where: On the coast of Ensō
Warnings: Nothing of note!

For the past several months, you've seen it on the horizon. A dark shape, at first, like a distant landmass getting closer and closer. It's continued to draw close, until it becomes apparent that for all it might look like a fragmented chunk of land, overgrown with moss and decaying vegetation, it is far from it.

It's a living being.

And by April 30th, it will have made landfall. A rush of seawater surges up over the beaches of Ensō as the beast settles along the northwestern shore, hulking and massive and rivaling even the great dragon Ahidalgo in sheer size.

When they nestle down against the edge of Ensō, they will lift their heavy head, rocky and streaming water, and open a set of six small, glowing eyes. They do not appear hostile. They regard any who might come near them with a seeming impassivity, though given how much they dwarf all of you, it might be awfully hard to read this creature's demeanor.

At least until they speak aloud.

"SO. THIS IS WHAT YOUR HISTORY HAS WROUGHT."
They're not going away anytime soon, either. It's only a matter of time before the other two gods in the area realize what's happening and reach out.

If you want answers, better talk to them now.

Comments

[thankgods]

NO ONE.
I DO NOT INTEND TO ASSIST IN THE CIRCUMVENTION OF FATE.

[barberian]

(She closes her eyes tight, jaw set, casting about for something to say. She's always found words to be difficult, and now it feels like Mollymauk's continued existence hinges on her being persuasive enough to get the information she needs. Let's go 7 charisma give us nothing)

It isn't circumvention, (Yasha tries eventually, throwing caution to the wind,) just... prolonging it. Please.

[thankgods]

I DO NOT EXIST IN SERVICE TO YOU, OR ANY OF YOU INTERLOPERS.
YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.
IT WAS A YOUNG GOD'S FOOLISHNESS THAT RESULTED IN YOU COMING HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE.

[barberian]

I didn't ask to be brought here, (Yasha fires back, rage instinctively leaping in the pit of her stomach.) And neither did he. So you could– I don't know, point me to somebody who could help fix the damage they've done, at the very least.

[thankgods]

I INTEND TO ERASE ALL THAT DAMAGE BY SCOURING THIS WORLD CLEAN.
THAT WILL RETURN YOU ALL TO YOUR RESPECTIVE PLACES.

[barberian]

(You can't fight gods.

Well– you can, if you really want to. But you can't win against gods. Yasha's sword hand twitches down at her side, and she balls it into a fist.)

... So there's nothing I can do.

[thankgods]

NO.
YOU CANNOT REWRITE FATE.

[In their opinion.]

[barberian]

(It isn't their fault that he died.

Yasha exhales through her teeth, closes her eyes tight for a brief moment, and then lets her shoulders slump.)

... We'll see.

What will you do once this place is gone? Where do you go?

[thankgods]

I WILL DO WHAT ALL THINGS DO WHEN THEY REACH THEIR END.
I WILL FADE AWAY.

[barberian]

Are you afraid?

[thankgods]

THERE IS NO ROOM IN ME FOR FEAR.
I HAVE ACCEPTED THIS OUTCOME FOR A VERY LONG TIME.

[barberian]

You would think that there would be room, because you're so big.

... That was a joke.

(She's been trying to get better at jokes.)

Will everything on these islands fade?

[thankgods]

[The big god's stature is impassive. The joke, if it lands, does not deal so much as a glancing blow.]

ONCE I AM DONE WITH IT, THIS ENTIRE WORLD SHOULD FADE.

[barberian]

(That's okay, Yasha wasn't expecting a hit.)

What... if we take things from it with us? For keepsakes?

(She's thinking about the various flowers pressed into the pages of a book she keeps on her being at all times. She has it right now; she takes it out, easing it from between her belt and her waist, and flipping it open to show the god: a pressed, purple flower. Probably taken from around one of the mana pools.)

Will this remain?

[thankgods]

YOU OUGHT NOT TO KEEP SO MUCH AS YOUR MEMORIES.
IF THIS IS A THING I CAN PREVENT, I WILL DO SO.

[barberian]

(Yasha sighs, pressing her finger gently against the crisp edge of the blossom.)

These... weren't for me, to keep. They were for somebody else. Somebody who was never here- would it truly matter? If she had them?

[thankgods]

YOU SPEAK IN HYPOTHETICALS.
SPEAK PLAINLY.

[barberian]

(Yasha thinks for a moment, rolling the words over on her tongue, and then swallows them.)

... It doesn't matter. I'll leave them.

Will you miss this place?

[thankgods]

NO.
IT WAS NEVER HOME. IT IS BUT A POOR IMITATION.
AND ITS DEMISE IS LONG PAST DUE.

[barberian]

... Congratulations, then.

(Since it seems to be coming about soon, that is.)

Will there be warning, before it happens?

[thankgods]

YOU WILL HAVE AMPLE WARNING.
THE WORLD WILL FALL TO PIECES SLOWLY.
YOU MAY TRY TO ESCAPE IT, BUT FOR NAUGHT.