agogemod: (Default)
⌞THE AGOGE⌝ MODS ([personal profile] agogemod) wrote in [community profile] agogelogs2018-02-12 10:55 am

Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three.


We do not merely destroy our enemies;
we change them.


WELCOME TO THE END OF TIME.

The Regency has its spies and its cloaks and daggers. You may have even brushed shoulders with one and not have known it. There is a place for such tactics. You are not in that place any longer.




On missions like these, the Regency prefers to keep its base close, in a intradimensional time pocket. You're apart from Gallipoli, no longer technically on Earth or in the 1910s. There are multiple segments to this complex base of Regency operations, but you can only really see two places...

THE BRIG

This is your holding cell, a constantly shifting room of indesctructable grey squares. It folds and bends to hold you and your seven companions as you await... something.

There are no guards in this place. There are no bars to look through, or sounds to listen for. You are simply in the box, left to your own devices.

Occasionally, holes will open in the ceiling, and packaged, processed rations will fall from them before immediately closing. This is the only way to measure time. There are always exactly eight bags, each with the name of one captive written on the side in their native language.

Holes will occasionally open in the walls, and they always bring with them a searingly bright light. Sleeping and sitting is difficult on the ever-shifting floors, and when you try, it always seems like a pinhole of light opens right on your eyes. Even leaning on the walls has mixed results.

DON'T GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT

The windows of light that open always stay very small, making it difficult to look through, and always pour radiantly bright, hot light. If you're feeling particularly self-punishing, you might be able to peek at an odd angle and see something of the world outside without being completely flashblinded. The world outside the Brig looks rather like the interior of a Dyson sphere. In the center, a great, bright, hot energy radiates out like a sun, and it reflects off the exterior globe the pocket dimension functions within, illuminating everything from every angle. The Brig floats around it in a slow orbit, as do many other similar looking box-rooms made of similar material, connected by constantly moving tubes and chutes. Some boxes have more chutes going toward them than others. No chutes connect to the Brig, unless someone is about to disappear into the floor...

Getting this view will be difficult, but not impossible; it will just take characters willing to blind themselves with an overabundance of light multiple times until they get the correct angle, allowing them to see outside for roughly a half second before the room shifts to redirect the light back into their eyes.

not so solitary confinement

Occasionally, the cube will split into smaller segments, throwing characters together with others at random in close confinement. This is unpredictable and fast, splitting you off from the whole for what feels like hours at a time, often with only one companion as the cube shifts and squirms around you.

technical malfunction

The power nullification is still in full effect. No magic or special abilities rule this place. Your only master are the walls, undulating with no discernible pattern, always moving.

The Regency has also attempted to break the BCE's translation capabilities, but due to the fact that COST-jailbroken BCEs work on a different system than Regency ones, this is an intermittent problem that occurs sporadically. (ie, have the translation capabilities blink in and out at your discretion.)

THE OTHER PLACE

And then, suddenly, the floor drops out from underneath you. The shifting walls make a hole perfectly your shape and size, and sucks you through. The hole closes neatly, immediately, and you slide along in a world of boxes pressing close to your skin as you are moved from one holding area to another.

When you emerge, you do so in total darkness. Power nullification is still in effect, but even if you can naturally see in the dark, it doesn't matter. All you can see is an endless blackness, and walking doesn't help. You can keep walking for however long; there is nothing to walk to. The floor is perfectly level, but you'll never reach a wall.

Finally, there's light in the distance. A spotlight from nowhere shines down on a person with the head of a jackal. Looking closer, you'll find it's some kind of highly technical mask. They are wearing armor that obscures their exact shape-- no skin shows, no hint of identity or personality, just the cold eyes of the mask. They turn to you, and speak in a voice clear and soothing, almost gentle.

"I am Kebechet. I have been looking forward to speaking with you."

dorzalta: (pic#11766565)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-15 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
The Dothraki Sea? Stepping forward, Dany glances about them, blue eyes taking in the endless sea of green. The whinnies of horses reminds her of good and bad memories: of the days where the khalasar marched on and on; of the days when the khalasar had captured her long after Drogo had passed.

"What do you gain to understand by bringing us here?"

Did this one even know where they were? If she walked on and on, would she find her people? No, they're dead. They'd died long ago in Qarth.

"You erased that girl from existence," she says, voice incredulous. "That's neither pruning nor cutting off deadened branches--that's uprooting the tree."
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-15 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
Kebechet turns to face her. The smell of burning whisks through the wind.

"What girl?"
dorzalta: (pic#11766566)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-15 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
Fire...? She fails to answer the question for the moment, stepping away to gaze further ahead. Her focus is not on the fire, however, but on Kebechet's sudden interest in a Regency girl's fate.

"Your little soldier who found herself in the wrong place, at the wrong time." No names. Grothia warned of not identifying any of themselves, and though Xici was dead, Dany would not mention even that one. "I imagine those you follow chained her down in the name of duty. Do they do the same to you, as well?"
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-15 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
"I have no record of this," Kebechet says. "If she were truly 'erased', as you say, I would not. Even so, it is not my juristiction to make such decisions. I would not hold you responsible for every decision made by COST. I wonder if you will extend me the same courtesy."

In the distance, a column of black smoke rises.
dorzalta: (pic#11766410)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-15 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Do you believe them to be fully forthcoming with you?" She doesn't know if Kebechet is higher in the rankings of this group, or what this one's role truly is. She doesn't even know if Kebechet is male or female, with all that is worn on their person. "I can offer that, and much more, mage."

This treatment is peculiar, and though instinct would have her snap that she has not been offered that courtesy of blamelessness, she acquiesces in an attempt to build rapport with her would-be captor.

"What's burning?"

She likely doesn't want to know.
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-16 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
"Do you believe anyone is truly forthcoming with you, in all things?" Kebechet's tone is doubtful. "The truth is what you know already. The fire, for example-- you know what it is."
dorzalta: (pic#11766410)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-16 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
We all have our secrets, she doesn't say. "Forthcoming enough for it to count. One doesn't earn loyalty through lies and withholding the truth."

No, that earns banishment, in ser Jorah's case. It's been some time since she considers his betrayal... and how persistently he worked to regain her favor.

Does she know what the fire is? Casting Kebechet a doubtful look, she begins to walk toward the plume of smoke billowing in the distance. There's a feeling, but--no. That would suggest this one knew her mind.

"How often do your leaders find it necessary to erase those loyal to them from existence?"
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-16 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
"How often have you found it necessary to kill your enemies, traitors, and scoundrels?" Kebechet walks toward the smoke, still far on the horizon. "We do not get to choose our enemies."
dorzalta: (with the last sentence)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Phrased like that, and you sound weak." No matter how lightly it's said, there would be no easing a possibly stung pride. This is what becomes of a queen made impatient by the dance of dodging questions. "They have a choice to become my enemy or my ally. You have a choice.

"Tell me something, Kebechet: is the Aoernul Contingent the Tranquil Empire's to claim?"
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-17 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
"Weak? I wish I had the luxury." They keep walking. "I chose to give my loyalty onto those who have earned it, avoiding war wherever possible, and engaging in combat only as a last resort, hand forced by chaotic interlopers."

They turn to observe the little queen. "Aoernul is a battalion under the Sekhmet Corps. I know what they have done to you. But I am an Anubian; I have no more responsibility for them than you for when your dear Commander slaughtered my twin in order to defect. Our intelligence says she brought the head with her, and dropped it at our enemy's feet. I could carry this as a grudge against you. I do not."
dorzalta: (pic#11766410)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
"I've neither seen, nor heard anything thus far that they have done to earn your loyalties." Grass crunches beneath her boots; she gazes ahead, taking note that the smoke has grown more prominent. Darker. There are other sounds now, she thinks, distant though they may still be. "Mn, chaotic interlopers. Very interesting how one's perspective skews their viewpoint on certain matters."

Upon speak of the Contingent, she cuts Kebechet a sharp look from the corner of her eyes.

"Anubian and Sekhmet," she murmurs, "I'm unfamiliar with either. Tell me of the differences between them."

She would return to speak of Grothia slaughtering this one's twin momentarily.
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-17 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
Kebechet considers a moment, before nodding. "If one expects to gain information, one ought to be ready to give. I will start."

They point to their own helm. "Our military is segmented into different orders with different functions. Anubians deal with that which is in between worlds, and finding how it fits into its proper place; information gathering, knowledge resources. You will know us by our helm; Anubis is represented by the jackal, the African Wolf. Sekhmet's division takes the regrettable act of fighting head on, attacking directly, when all other options have been extinguished. Their helm is that of a lion."
dorzalta: (Default)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
A lion and a wolf. Were she less composed, she would laugh outright. A lion. Of all the animals to choose... Dany would howl her frustrations, frustrations drawing nearer to the surface the more she's spoon-fed. Little hints of information from both sides. A name. A role.

Sometimes, she would rather see both sides burn for pulling her into this war.

"You spoke of what they did to me, Anubian. Your information was gathered, I presume. Tell me what options were extinguished when the lions were loosed and took from me."

Does this one wish to loose the lions onto Grothia, as well?
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-17 02:56 am (UTC)(link)
"Your consort was travelling with a rogue agent from a different sect. They had information that would have compromised many lives, if they had given it to a terrorist cell. We had asked her, pleaded with her, begged her and threatened her. There were no other options."

Kebechet looks away, out to the smoke on the horizon, growing darker and thicker in the breeze. "Your Khal died defending her, a traitorous snake who wished to unleash horror upon innocents."
dorzalta: (Default)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
The first niggle of doubt cracks her defenses--the tiniest of fractures. Drogo told her nothing of the tasks assigned to him. That was how Drogo was, believing himself to be strong and unbreakable; he'd had no memories of his death, and her own memories conflicted with his.

"And what horrors did this snake intend to release upon the innocents?"
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-17 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
"A seizing bomb in a civilian population. Tactically advantageous to your rebel colonies, of course." Kebechet's tone is dry, but something like emotion lurks in its depths, curt and cutting. "Many would have died to give a strike team time to mobilize. My countrimen's horrible choking deaths were to be a distraction."
dorzalta: (pic#11766604)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course," she mirrors, something sharper to her tone. Of all the things Drogo is, a coward is not one of them. If he was aware of a bomb, he would find this weak. Spilling blood with his arakh, earning such glory, that is strength. Bombs? Choking to death? There was no glory to be had in this.

So either Drogo had been misled, or Kebechet lies.

"The Regency erased Xici. Why not do the same to your snake?"
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-17 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"Xici. A Kechran name. I assume she is someone who I am supposed to know?" Kebechet turns back to look at the plume of smoke, only growing thicker, inexhaustible. "Your assumption of my omnipotence is flattering, but poorly-formed."
dorzalta: (Default)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 07:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"She is the one I mentioned, when we spoke of pruning versus uprooting the tree."

This fire... there are only two of her making in the Dothraki's territory: Drogo's funeral pyre, and the day she'd burnt the hut in Vaes Dothrak. But they are not near the latter; they would have crossed the horselord's gates to draw nearer to the hut, which means, if this is something she should know, then... The timing of their speak about Drogo is well placed.

"You said the Commander slaughtered your twin. Were they both Anubians?"
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-17 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
"If she was truly 'erased' as you say, I would have no reason to recall her. The fact that you do is... curious. Memory does not survive such things."

A shrug. Kebechet turns back to her.

"My twin was with the Thoth division-- research and development. Cranes are Thoth's symbol." A quick aside, to further Danaerys' education, and perhaps to stall from old memories. "They lived on the island your Commander ransacked. They were a scientist, a scholar. Perhaps it was believed their genius could be stolen along with their brains? It doesn't matter. Their soul will never be at peace until the head is returned to the grave site, and that will never happen, either. In the spirit of fairness, I suppose I should hold you responsible for this death, and wield it as a cudgel against you? But I will not. It dishonors Seshat's memory."
dorzalta: (pic#11766586)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-17 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"A number of us recall it. Bit by bit of her started to fade away... until there was nothing left," she says, folding her hands in front of her. There's no shift in her tone or expression, nothing to hint at her discontentment over such a thing. Still, it tinges the air around her, as if bleeding through her pores. It fades as she glances up to meet the eerie eyes of the mask. "How would you explain such a phenomenon?"

She doesn't ask out of spite, but of genuine curiosity. This was a war she did not ask to be a part of; the least she could do was listen to the opposing side. Whether it was lies or truths Kebechet spins, that would be more information to pick apart later. Two sides to a story.

"COST still has your twin's head?" Despite herself, a part of her softens. That sentiment was similar enough to the Dothraki's belief about the soul and burning a body. She looks ahead, staring at the inky black smoke. "What brought you both to join this war?"

A part of her wants to say that she does not hold individuals in the Regency to blame, but the organization as a whole... but these are thoughts better left to herself. Those sorts of words would be used by some to their own advantage. Twisted and morphed until it was honed into a blade that would do her harm.
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-18 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
"An odd tale. I've heard rumors of such things, but my own department's investigations proved insubstantial. You will have to forgive me for being unable to move forward without evidence."

Or: this mistrust runs both ways. She can't be surprised that they think her capable of lying.

"The both of us joined when our home was bombed, and our clan wiped out. We were the last of our line, and wished to preserve it, but any marriages would dilute the blood. Instead, we swore revenge."
dorzalta: (pic#11766566)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-18 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course," she murmurs, not believing that to be their final conclusion. For one who claims to hunt for the answers to things, 'an odd tale' would be most unsatisfying. "I'm sure your wolf pack has aided you well in unearthing your answers. Or non-answers, in this case. It must be frustrating."

Lions and wolves were one thing; she'd seen the dog-like masks in Gallipoli.

...This speak of a tale about siblings, though. Her shoulders stiffen the more Kebechet explains. Diluting the blood, vengeance, two siblings surviving an attack which wiped an entire family line? They mock me.

Hot anger roars to life, pouring into her veins. Exhaustion from that ever-shifting room nearly makes her lash out. Her name and birthright, her accomplishments were not things to be belittled. She is the blood of the dragon, and she would not me mocked.

"COST bombed your home?" she asks instead, voice steady. The only indicator of her temper is the coolness in her gaze and the way she tightens her hold. "I regret hearing that, and for your loss. I hope the revenge you've sought has brought you some semblance of peace, thus far."
agogenpc: (⌞KEBECHET⌝)

[personal profile] agogenpc 2018-02-18 04:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"It has brought us here," Kebechet says, gesturing to the grass. "Your home is very beautiful. Shall we continue? I have questions of my own."

If they were aware of Danaerys' anger, their commonalities, anything, they do not show it.
dorzalta: (pic#11766553)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2018-02-18 04:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"You show me endless grass with the promise of fire." Flat, the first hint of rudeness in her tone. "This is not my home."

Essos was not her home, if this is truly meant to be Essos.

"Ask your questions. That is why you took me, is it not?"

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