Session Report: 10 February 2023

Beauty Cast in Ice

General Summary

In this session of Tsuwamono, the following events transpired:

The Glory of Creation

1559年11月17日 16:00 (Afternoon)

Skyhold

Historical Entry: The Glory of Creation

Events had inarguably progressed from strange to stranger within the dream-woven walls of Skyhold. Yet Matsumoto Ooawagaeri remained unperturbed. He leaned over to Bedivere, the only other bastion of sanity in this place, and spoke from the corner of his mouth under the mask. "Has it been like this the whole time you've been here?"
The dame shrugged, watching Princess Masamune continue to orate on the balcony above. "Yeah, pretty much. I came this way because I heard another Knights of the Siege had passed through the Dreamlands rift, but somehow ended up in this weird contest."
That sounded rather similar to what Ooawagaeri himself had experienced. Although, the erstwhile Black Blade's motivations for entering Mutsu Province were somewhat different. His eyes turned up with an unseen smirk. "This is the sixth or seventh Masamune I've seen."
As though summoned by his errant words, Date Snake Masamune and Date☾Masamune tumbled through the gates and into Skyhold proper. The heavy wooden doors closed behind them, sealing the whole motley mess of Hashinara, Hyakki Yagyō, and Date together within the walls.
"Hm. I suppose we've arrived...somewhere," the former said, looking about with his sightless eyes.
"What in the blazes is this place?" the latter demanded, obviously more shaken than her companion.
"Oh, you're here! That's good," Ooawagaeri greeted them both.
Before any of the three could say more, the ground suddenly began to shudder beneath their feet. Throwing up a great cloud of plaster dust, the fountain in the square's center trembled as it began to descend on some hidden mechanism. In its place, a fancy wooden stage erected itself. Long banners displaying the Date Clan's emblem unfurled and tinny music began to play from somewhere nearby.
"Now!" the Eternal Princess proclaimed, "Who will be the first to entertain me?"
Matsumoto Ooawagaeri would not be where he was now if he didn't know when to go with the flow of a situation. Having listed his talent as "sculptor" on the entrance form, he set about looking for some water with which to ply his art. The fountain was still down there, apparently, in a hollow beneath the stage. As he sneaked water through the slats under his magical control, more poured forth to replace it in a seemingly limitless supply. While he'd been so distracted, however, another performer had taken up the stage.
The twenty-foot skeleton Ooawagaeri had glimpsed before in the crowd now kneeled on a cushion large enough for its knobble knees. It waved an enormous fan theatrically through the air, clacking it shut as it delivered some lame punchline about a cat and her daughter. Princess Masamune did not appear amused. "Next!" she shouted. The skeleton skulked off the stage without further comment.
As he swirled the water he'd gathered around himself, Ooawagaeri felt an armored elbow nudge into his ribs. "You want to go next, or should I?" Bedivere asked.
"I'll let you go first," he answered. A thousand possibilities roiled in his mind, yet one shone brighter than the others in its artistic perfection.
Without hesitation, Bedivere climbed onto the stage and began to sing a ballad. The words were harsh and clumsy in her native tongue of English. Yet the song itself was beautiful, delivered by the dame in a brazen voice full of conviction. Princess Masamune leaned over the balcony, delighted. "Good, good, very good!" As the song wound to a close, her expression darkened into a scowl, cast at the performers yet to make their attempt. "You'd better impress me if you want to beat that."
Ooawagaeri would take that challenge.
Magical storm clouds began to darken and roil above Skyhold as the masked man took the stage. A pattering of rain fell through the courtyard, although no drops appeared to actually strike the Princess. Indeed, they were changing direction as quickly as they fell, zipping through the air to gather around Ooawagaeri and obey his preternatural control. Waving his hands to and fro, he called the water together to form a solid, cubic block. Then, the outside of it froze in a flash. Like a chunk cut from a glacier, it loomed solidly over the audience. Yet, even to their distant eyes, it was obvious something intricate was happening within. Princess Masamune leaned over the railing with wide eyes...
Theatrically, Ooawagaeri reached out his hand and materialized a simple hammer within it. He tapped the corner of the cube a single time, while releasing the spells he'd cast. Cracks split across the thing's surface in a spiderweb before, just as a lance of sunlight split the clouds above, the exterior fell away in a splash of water.
There, illuminated by the cold northern sun, stood a rime-forged Aotsuki Tsukamoto, his beautiful features rendered perfectly in sharp, crystalline ice. Standing proudly with one arm brought to his chin, a contemplative expression on his face, he wore not a shred of clothing over his flawless body. That is, except for one place. A shimmering fig leaf, carved from the same ice as the rest, positioned itself just right to preserve Aotsuki's dignity.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd in Skyhold.
Then, Hitotsume-nyūdō brought her massive claws together in a slow clap. One after another, the rest of the crowd took up the applause. Even the Princess offered a short round in respect.
The ruckus cut short abruptly as a small figure, cloaked and hooded, jumped upon the stage and kicked Aotsuki in his perfect shin. The sculpture shuddered...but held. Silence reigned as Ooawagaeri stood on one side and Hakutaku on the other, facing each other with the sculpture between them. Then, the other whipped her cloak to the side and revealed, as if by magic, a simple table and two seats. Upon the wooden surface stood a mighty jug, condensation beading on its surface, and two cups.
"I thallan... Challenge you, masked man!" Hakutaku's characteristic lisp, absent to this point, raided her speech for a moment before vanishing once again.
"Challenge?" Ooawagaeri appeared nonplussed. "What sort of challenge?"
"A drinkin' challenge, of course." Hakutaku made a sweeping gesture encompassing the vessels on the table. "Pick your poison, buster."
The slightest smile quirked one of Ooawagaeri's eyes up at the side. "Surprise me."
With a fluid motion, Hakutaku slid one of the cups across the table. Coming to rest just in front of Ooawagaeri, he could see its contents clearly for the first time. The thing was brimming with ice-cold milk.

Zhyrgal Waxes Homesick

1559年11月17日 16:00? (Night)

Hashinara Kurayume

Historical Entry: Zhyrgal Waxes Homesick

Upon the starlit decks of Hashinara Kurayume, Hashinara Yoshitakatomo's training of Ganzo Sada was proceeding as well as it ever had. That is to say, poorly. Perhaps awoken by the lose threads of magic being thrown around, Zhyrgal wriggled out of the Daimyō's pocket and helped herself to some.
Slurp.
Perhaps amused, Yoshitakatomo herself reached out and fed the tiny Zoog with a portion of her own energy.
"Mmm!" the little one exclaimed, "I haven't ever eaten this well."
"I hope you're quite full now," the Princess voiced, "At least for the moment."
"Those stingy stinges at the Collegium would only feed me when I did a job for them. What kind of a life is that?"
Yoshitakatomo was momentarily nonplussed by this complaint. "A...logical exchange of resources between two parties. Were you a captive?"
"Yeah," Zhyrgal kicked the air forlornly, "I only went out when I had a job to do."
"And what sorts of job were often requested of you?"
The zoog twirled in the air for a moment. A thoughtful expression crossed her little face, mixed together with worry. Apparently she hadn't been anticipating all these questions when she awoke. "Uh... Mostly like, running messages. Moving stuff. Eating rogue spells. You know, Zoog stuff."
"How does a spell become rogue, exactly?" Yoshitakatomo, a known master of the mystical arts, had never heard of such a thing. Spells did what they were designed for at a scale determined by the amount of energy provided, no more and no less.
"Like," Zhyrgal did a backflip, "If you're experimenting with new spells and one of them gains sentience and starts to go crazy from understanding the enormity of its own existence...or something."
That was concerning, and so too was Zhyrgal's assertion that only the most favored of zoogs ever had a chance to devour these animate spells. "And what made the others more suitable than you? Were they capable of eating more powerful energy?"
"Nah," the zoog continued her aerial acrobatics, apparently now left with an excess of energy to burn, "They just didn't play as many pranks or mess up as much as I did."
"Perhaps they understood the danger of their duties."
"Uh, maybe?" She stopped to ponder that one. "I never really worry about that kind of thing." Then returned to zipping around.
"But you are free of such duties now," Yoshitakatomo continued, "Where is this place and what entities could create sentient spells? They have my interest."
Ganzo Sada, all but forgotten in the esoteric discussion, merely traced Zhyrgal's flight patterns with his eyes. None of this was getting through to him, but he would never be so rude as to interrupt his Daimyō's discussion to say as much.
"It's the Caelestis Collegium," Zhyrgal said it with a casual air, as though this were something everyone should know as a matter of course, "In Dylath-Leen. We're gonna go there eventually, right?"
"Indeed we are," Yoshitakatomo confirmed, "Do you have objections?"
"Nope! It's about time I got back after all. I'm probably going to be in lots of trouble for being away for so long."
"Why not free yourself of your duties?" the Princess asked. "If you caused as much trouble as I can imagine, they might have celebrated your departure by now."
"Huh?" Zhyrgal's twirling slowed. "I don't think I'm following?"
"Are you not able to just...quit your job?"
The zoog stopped completely as the enormity of new possibility settled over her. "You mean just...stop working for Azophi?"
"Perhaps it won't be as easy as all that," Yoshitakatomo began to quickly backtrack, realizing her mistake, "Tell me more about this Azophi. Are they your creator?"
Zhyrgal didn't answer immediately. Her eyes were full of stars. "Just...stop working...?" Then, she focused once again. "Uh... Azophi is one of the bigwigs in Dylath-Leen. Her real name is Abba dabba Ramma Sophi or something like that, so we call her Azophi."
Both Ganzo Sada and Yoshitakatomo reeled at the ridiculous name Zhyrgal spilled out. "This Azophi," the latter said, recovering, "What is her connection with the Great Ones of Kadath?"
They had a vessel, a mystery, and a delinquent zoog. Perhaps Yoshitakatomo's next destination was now clear.

Those Beyond Forgiveness

1559年11月17日 16:00 (Afternoon)

Somewhere off Japan's northern coast

Historical Entry: Those Beyond Forgiveness

Knight-Gendarme Waxim watched as the great black ship grew closer on the horizon. It was indeed just where they'd been told. If their information was to be further believed, this was a ship of slavers; scum who kidnapped innocent people, inflicted horrors upon them, and sold them for profit. Waxim's stomach churned at the thought. Nobody deserved that.
He felt a soft presence appear next to his shoulder. Artiya'il. "Everyone deserves an opportunity to redeem themselves, Waxim," she whispered in his ear. "Find it in your heart to give them that chance." Yet as the Quartet Royale gained on their looming target, Waxim found he could not speak to answer.
--
Waxim opened his eyes. People were shouting around him now. The silvery sound of unsheathed weapons and the thud of boarding hooks sounded as the Quartet Royale drew alongside the Black Galleon. He opened his eyes again, the eyes within, and beheld. These Black Galleon Slavers crowded on the opposite deck were not men. Not as he understood it. There was something within them, but it could hardly be called a soul. It was withered, twisted, and cruel.
"Waxim..." Artiya'il's plea in his ear.
"Non." With one white-plated gauntlet, Waxim reached up and pulled his visor down. "Some things, they are beyond forgiveness."
The Royale's deck creaked beneath him as Waxim crouched. Radiant power suffused the legs of his armor, then released with a mighty crack as he leapt. The ships were easily fifty feet away from each other still, but he cleared it easily, slamming into the massed slavers like a cannon shot. His blade, Redeemer, was heavy in his hand as it cut through the first line of his foes. The slavers screamed and fell back, but two more took the place of every one he had slain. They crowded around his sides, pikes and barbed nets slamming against his light-infused armor. Given time, they might overwhelm him, but these were no foes for a true Knight-Gendarme.
By the time the Royale's boarding party clambered over the ropes and joined the fray, Waxim had cut open a sizeable space for them. Black blood stained the deck and leaked down the knight's armor without leaving a mark, but there always seemed to be more slavers. They threw themselves at him relentlessly, as though driven mad by some unseen will. And, indeed, there was something in the air here. Something malevolent, which picked at the edges of Waxim's mind for a way in. As the slaver before him fell with Redeemer buried in its shoulder, he found his answer.
There, on top of the upper deck, stood a figure wreathed in black robes and a golden mask. This was a slaver as well, no doubt, but of an order higher than the fodder around him. "Orat," Waxim spoke in his mind as he pulled his blade loose and pointed it at the figure. "Grant my wish."
A sound like tearing fabric ripped through the air, then Vizier Orat was suddenly behind the robed figure. Space warped and broke as, before the robed one could so much as react, Orat pierced his back with a rot-flecked hand. Waxim winced. No matter how many times he'd seen it, it always made him nauseous to watch Orat "un-incarnate" someone. When it was over, only a few scraps of black fabric and the golden mask itself clattered to the ground amidst a rain of perfect void crystals.
Yet the alien presence in the air had not dissipated. Waxim drove his plated gauntlet into a slaver's face and kicked another one off the deck while his eyes scanned beneath his visor. What was driving these not-men to attack with such abandon? Nay, with the numbers still pouring up from the lower decks, could something be creating or summoning them? He searched through the nearby door and into the staircase beyond, turning once before it presumably led deeper into the ship's hold. An idea occurred to Waxim. He'd have to be very lucky; but then again, luck was always on his side.
"Tambouriner!" he called. From the shadows of the deck, the reflections in the dark pools of blood, something expressed its annoyance at being woken. The faint smell of juniper filled the air. Waxim's outstretched gauntlet filled with an eerie blue-green light, which then solidified into a wooden spear. For all its lack of a metal point, vines and flowers studded along its length, the weapon was wickedly sharp and thrummed with presence. "Let's hope we get lucky." Something unseen rolled its eyes at him.
Jumping above the deck, blasting the slavers around him aside, Waxim threw the spear downward with all his force. If he were fortunate, this would strike whatever mastermind was behind all this. If not, it might strike a captive, or pierce the boat's hull and sink them all. With his eyes closed as the weapon left his grip, Waxim prayed.
For a moment nothing happened. Then, every slaver around him clutched their heads and screamed in unison. The crew of the Royale didn't miss the opportunity. Blades and boarding lances found their marks and struck down a dozen incapacitated slavers before they could recover. Yet Waxim's attention was on the deck below, and the horrible presence which was chewing its way upward toward him. He leaped back just in time as something monstrous, pallid, and turgid white burst forth from below. Its forward bulk opened, revealing two rows of massive, uncomfortably human teeth to snap shut where he'd been standing just a moment before. Waxim tightened his grip around Redeemer as the Moonbeast pulled itself wetly through the hole and seemed to ready its powerful back legs for a leap.
Yet when the attack came, it was no charge or wild swing. Waxim saw the briefest shimmer in the air before something struck the side of his head through the helmet. The right side of his skull screamed in agony as he staggered from the force of it. No, that hadn't hit his skull at all. Something whipping and coiling in the air had passed through all his defenses and directly impacted his brain. Shaking off the static which filled his head, Waxim managed to throw himself to the ground as another barely-glimpsed whip passed over him.
As he clambered to his feet, he realized immediately something was very wrong. The left side of Waxim's face was numb, and the image before him seemed to wobble in and out of depth. He could barely stand on his left leg. The monster in front of him smiled, reached out, and plucked him from the ground. His arms were weak, his vision still swimming, and that mouth was growing ever closer. Artiya'il's healing caress warmed the side of his head, healing the wound within, yet it would be too slow.
The Moonbeast's maw opened wide.
Then, it was Waxim who smiled, because he'd just seen the darkness of Vizier Orat's hood rise up from the deck behind the beast. "I knew you'd come for me, mon ami," he slurred.
The shriek that burst from the Moonbeast came not from its mouth, but seemed to originate in the minds of everyone present simultaneously. No doubt this beast would be too monstrous to un-incarnate all at once, but Orat had other tricks within his cloak. This one, a rusted dagger with its hilt flecked in blood, was now driven into the creature's back up to the guard. Waxim had been on the wrong side of that weapon once before, and knew well that there was no protection against the pain spell it channeled once the blade was in one's flesh. What's more, his angel's ministrations had finished. The Knight-Gendarme's brain was functioning properly once again.
Rays of light streamed from the joints of Waxim's armor as he suffused it with power, then forced the Moonbeast's hand open with a mighty flex. "Now, let us finish this!" With a backflip, he flew through the air and landed a few feet away from the monster, sabatons thudding against moist earth. Indeed, the ship had vanished entirely around them and the sky was dark. Through the canopy of trees above, the full moon hung low in the sky. All was silent, save for the distant thudding of hooves and braying of hounds. The floral spear shimmered into Maxim's hand. "If there is a heaven for creatures like you, I hope you find peace there." The Moonbeast screamed in fury and terror.
--
They took the slaves aboard the Quartet Royale and scuttled the Galleon when it was all over. There were too many evil deeds soaked into the vessel, and the fight had destroyed its deck beyond what could be repaired at sea regardless. As the crew tended to those rescued, Waxim wearily trudged his way below deck. As he went, he passed the woman they'd taken aboard in the south. What did they call her, Shibai? She smiled at him, but he merely nodded in response. She'd no doubt watched the battle, but had Waxim seen her among the boarding party? It didn't matter, in the end.
Reaching his own quarters, Waxim removed his helmet and collapsed into a chair. The furniture creaked dangerously under his armor until he remembered to cancel out his own weight. Calling upon Tambouriner's power so many times, not to mention the exchange demanded by Orat, had taken a toll upon him. He would need rest, but they should be safe now.
"You didn't even give them a chance to speak..." Artiya'il's accused him as she manifested, seated primly in the other chair.
"I did not," Waxim admitted, "But you saw them. You saw their souls, what they are."
She nodded slowly, "I did, but I am of Chesed. You know that, Waxim, and what it means."
"Oui. I do. And I'm sorry." He bowed his head to her.
Silence filled the cabin for a long moment.
"Waxim?" Artiya'il asked.
"Yes?"
"I forgive you."

Sisters of Malkuth

1559年11月17日 16:00 (Afternoon)

Sumiyoshi-taisha

Historical Entry: Sisters of Malkuth

Within the ruins of Sumiyoshi-taisha, Ryūzaki Sanosuke's eyes had well and truly glazed over as Metatron continued his endless lecture.
"Ah yes, the sphere, or 'sephirot' as they are sometimes called. There are ten of them, as I mentioned, reaching from Keter, the crown, down to Malkuth, the earth. Indeed, I am a manifestation of these concepts myself, thus my appearance as a tree in this mortal world. It is not a shape I am bound to, but it is one in which I am most comfortable. Likewise, I sit on the Divine Council as representative for Keter, but in truth that set belongs to the Lord God. Just as I represent Him in speaking to you, I represent Him on the council. From the crown to the earth, I delivery heavenly knowledge. It is my duty and my joy to do so."
Meanwhile, Aotsuki Tsukamoto was waiting patiently on the outskirts of Metatron's barrier. He looked up idly at the moth girl bumping her way across the unseen wall far above. Bonk. Bonk. He squinted as a small piece of light appeared to detach itself from the rift around it and began to descend toward him. He might not have seen it at all, had he not been looking up there already.
Aotsuki blinked, then watched the falling light with an expression of utmost confusion. The thing was descending at a leisurely pace, and as it came closer, the young Daimyō began to realize it was traveling toward him. Now that it was closer, he could make out that it was actually a single flame, rather than a shard of light, burning dully against the luminous sky. He positioned himself and reached up. Against the background of Sanosuke mentally relaying Metatron's infodump, Aotsuki attempted to will the fire into his own hand.
"It sounds as if there are nearly as many Angels as there are Kami in our lands," Sanosuke was saying, "What do you and the others think of our deities, and those of the far-off lands I've heard about?"
"I wonder," Aotsuki commented distractedly, "Didn't you say their highest angels could rival even our kami? That seems awfully assuming of them."
As he finished, the flame fluttered to the ground directly in front of Aotsuki, ignoring his attempts to coax it into his hand. With a sudden like and flare, it dissolved to reveal a woman standing on the sands before him. She fixed Aotsuki with a stern frown.
"Just what were you attempting to do to me, young man?"
Feeling somehow like he'd just been caught doing something wrong, Aotsuki reddened. "I suppose I was trying to catch you?" She did not look amused by this answer.
Unperturbed by the sudden appearance of a governess in his periphery, Metatron pushed on. "The deities of every pantheon are reflections of our single Creator God. In attempting to understand the natural processes of the world He has created, humans inevitably give their own shape to forces which are, in truth, facets of the great Will behind all existence."
"Whoa, what?" Sanosuke stammered. "I mean, who is that who just came down as a flame?" The Silver General was looking to where Aotsuki withered under the newcomer's stern glare. As though following some deep-ingrained rascal instinct, Tama sank into the earth and vanished from sight.
Fortunately, Aotsuki was not without a governess on his side as well. "Not to be rude," Imamura Naiku cut in, "But you do realize you are speaking to Aotsuki Tsukamoto, Daimyō of the Aotsuki Clan?"
"Of course I do," the other woman snapped back. "I have come to collect him for the upcoming meeting of the Divine Council, naturally. I am Adriel, of the Ishim."
"Collect me?" Aotsuki boggled. "I suppose it's better than trying to find a way up this tree, but you knew we would be trying even that?"
A short distance away, Sanosuke's attention was split. Something interesting was happening over there, but his palm was also still pressed to Metatron's cool surface and the angel's voice had not stopped filtering into his head. "That is Adriel, Throne of the Ishim. She has come to collect Aotsuki Tsukamoto so he may take his place as Divine Councilor of the Sephirot of Malkuth."
"Of course," Adriel continued, "It would be quite dangerous for you to enter Samayim without an escort. Even with my sister and I to guide you, the Arbiters will very likely attempt to remove you by force."
"I assume if you're here to collect me with your sister, then I've been invited." Aotsuki paused, the rest of what Adriel said catching up with him. "What reason would these Arbiters have to remove me?"
This question was met with a pitying look, as though the Ishim couldn't believe Aotsuki didn't already know this. "Obviously, they—"
Whatever Adriel is about to say next is cut off by a screeching sound as something streaks out of the sky and impacts with a heavy thud near them, leaving a long furrow in the sand. Aotsuki covered his ears and closed his eyes at the sudden arrival.
"But we've literally met many of our kami in person. You're saying they would reveal themselves to us as we know them without mentioning what you're telling me now...?" Sanosuke's question died on his lips as he saw the unwilling comet stand up out of her furrow and dust herself off.
"God-DAMN it!" the newcomer swore, spitting sand.
Adriel pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly exasperated. "Ariel, please. The Lord's name is not to be taken in vain."
"...Also, who is that and what are her hobbies?" Sanosuke finished.
Aotsuki unblocked his ears and stared at the newcomer. "This is your sister? What a bombastic entrance."
No hint of surprise or emotion otherwise entered Metatron's voice as he coolly continued his explanation. "It is the way of all beings to not understand their nature or origins. In the same way as humans, deities do not innately understand they are all shards of a much greater being, the Creator God, whose very will, very existence, is the fabric of this universe. As for the angels who have arrived, Adriel and Ariel, they are here only to bring Aotsuki to fulfill his place on the Divine Council. As the chosen representative to speak for humanity, Aotsuki Tsukamoto is given the tenth seat, that of Malkuth. These two are Ishim, and it is their role to sue for equality between humans and the divine. Therefore, they are the most 'human' of those who dwell in Samayim, particularly in their outward appearance. Ariel, Lion of God, has many hobbies including fighting other angels, expressing her anger with the Arbiters of Geburah, and protecting humans from evil influences. Ah, and I believe she also enjoys collecting buttons."
The angel in question was currently spitting with fury. "Stuck-up Dominion jerks, I'll be right back after I..." Ariel trailed off as her eyes fell on Aotsuki for the first time. "Oh, you found him. That was easy."
Adriel sighed. "You tried to fistfight a Dominion of Geburah? What did you expect to happen?"
Aotsuki watched this exchange, still nonplussed into near-silence. He'd learned several things already, but likely not the important things. "They seem nicer than the others," Kagami offered. He could only nods in agreement.
The second angel approached him then, still picking bits of sand off her clothing. "So, how much has she told you already?"
"I'm to be escorted to Samayim," Aotsuki answered, "Where there may be issues with some Arbiters, and something about a Divine Council. My question is, how quickly can I be expected to return to Japan?"
"That's right, but let me get this straight. You've been summoned to determine the fate of your entire country, Sodom-and-Gomorroah-style, and you want to know when you'll be back?"
"The convening of the Council," her sister added, "Will not take long on its own; however, it may take some time and effort to traverse the expanse of Samayim to its heart."
"That's great, friend," Sanosuke finally said to Metatron. "I should go and see if they need my help. Talk again soon...maybe?"
"It has been a duty and a joy to speak with you. If you require additional information, you may approach as needed," Metatron's last words echoed in Sanosuke's mind as the Silver General removed his hand and approached the others.
"I think it's a valid question," Aotsuki was saying. "Time will not stop here while beings are discussing their attempts to pass false judgment on our country."
"Apologies for the late introduction. I was conversing with the Divine Councilor of Keter, there. Ryūzaki Sanosuke. You need something with Aotsuki-san?" The Silver General smoothly inserted himself into the conversation. However, Ariel didn't turn her attention from Aotsuki. Instead, her sister Adriel turned to regard the newcomer.
"Aotsuki Tsukamoto has been summoned to speak on the Divine Council as a representative for humanity," she explained, exasperated. "How many times must I repeat this?"
Sanosuke was unperturbed, though he did take a moment to take in his surroundings and the location of his other companions. Mary Lyn was watching from some distance away, with her full attention still on analyzing the barrier surrounding the tree. Takayama Ukon in contrast, was keeping a wide distance from the angels. Something about her demeanor seemed uncharacteristically subdued.
"The Council won't begin without you, but Netzach also won't wait forever before declaring you in contempt of your summons..." Ariel was explaining.
"Am I allowed..." Aotsuki began, searching for the right word, "...assistants on this journey?"
"Assistants? You can bring whoever you want, I guess, but keep in mind it might be dangerous. We'll move faster and be less visible in a small group too," Ariel answered. "The more we provoke Geburah, and the less the Mercies of Chesed can cover for us, the worse off we'll be."
Meanwhile, Sanosuke only had eyes for one person, not even meeting Adriel's steely gaze. "I think it'd be easier to understand if this nee-chan explains it instead. No offense."
Adriel obviously took offense at the dismissal, her scowl intensifying. As she thought over what he'd just said, however, an odd expression of amusement quickly overtook her anger. "'Nee-chan'?" With an impishness at complete odds to her earlier demeanor, Adriel reached over and tapped her sister's shoulder.
"How many people were you thinking of taking with you any— What, Adriel? What?" Ariel snapped.
"Sister," Adriel mugged at her, "This human thinks you're cute."
That silenced Ariel entirely, who could only stare at her sister for a moment.
"Ain't she, though?" Sanosuke grinned, his saltswept hair a roguish frame for that winning smile. "So, we gotta go now, or we got some time, or what? I'm not sure we've exactly put together everything ol' 'Rai-Ki' was sying."
"T-that's not important right now," Ariel blustered as her cheeks flushed. "You interrupted my discussion with the Councilor for that?" she accused her sister.
"Sometimes even I must indulge in my role as a meddlesome younger sister." Adriel showed not a trace of remorse.
Ariel stuck out her tongue at that, then turned back to the human pair. "You have some time if you want, just don't keep Netzach waiting forever. They'll be looking for an excuse to judge you in contempt, you know."
Aotsuki looked to his companion. "So, Sanosuke. I suppose you're on board?"
"'On board with what' still seems to be the question..." the Silver General mused.
"I've been summoned to speak on the Divine Council as a representative of humanity, so we're going to their Heaven," the young Daimyō explained patiently.
"We've at least got to bring a lawyer. Somehow. It would also be nice to..." Sanosuke seemed to realize something. "Oi, Mary-chan. Anything interesting?"
The court wizard approached, her expression still distracted with whatever calculations ran through her head. "Hm? Ah, I haven't made much progress here. What's going on, Sir Sanosuke?"
"If a small group went to Samayim with Aotsuki-san, could you arrange a way for everyone to return if their hosts were..." He sought a diplomatic way to say it. "...reluctant to let them go? And if Fujino-chan weren't able to come and go as she pleases?"
Meanwhile, Aotsuki was considering Sanosuke's comment about a lawyer. "My wife is stellar at navigating the law, but I have to admit...I'd be nervous bringing her along."
"The Arbiters won't kill anyone," Ariel assured him. Her sister's expression was one of concern, however. "Well, not kill kill."
"Kill kill?" Aotsuki felt a pit of worry form in his stomach. "What does that entail?"
"As they're not committed to kill humans," Adriel explained, "the angels of Geburah have devised other ways of restraining their enemies. ...Indefinitely."
"She means they'll stop you in time forever, basically," Ariel sighed.
"I have to admit that isn't ideal," Aotsuki agreed.
"Ah!" Mary cut in with an idea, "We could use the Mugen Gauntlet, at least to return to the entrance. We could also theoretically 'tear the veil' with Dream magic and escape to the Dreamlands. It may not be ideal, but it would likely be easier to return to Japan from there than from Samayim." She appeared to think further for a moment. "I'd only need enough time to retrieve the Gauntlet, but we'd need someone who's studied Dream magic to give us our other escape route."
At the same time, Aotsuki was coming to a realization. "Even still, this is something I, at least, need to do. Otherwise Japan is likely to face, uh, whatever you said about Gomorrah."
"Well..." Ariel began.
"It's not certain the Divine Council will rule against you," Adriel finished for her sister.
"Right. I know Chesed and Tiferet are in favor of keeping you around. But you don't want your vote being the one that could have saved your country, am I right?"
"Exactly," Aotsuki agreed. "Are we going to be discussing the topic, or will this only be me showing up to present a vote?"
"You'll have a chance to make your case, I think. And, uh..." Ariel turned to address Sanosuke, who was musing on Dreamweavers he might be able to call on in a hurry. "We'd welcome your strength, if you're able to come."
As though a rail had been driven through his spine, Sanosuke suddenly stood ramrod-straight. He offered a reassuring grin and a confident flex. "How many people can we safely bring?"
"Uh... There's not really any hard limit, is there, Adriel?"
"Bring who you wish," the governess answered, "But understand that the more who enter Samayim with us, the more Geburah will resist and the longer it may take us to reach our goal."
Sanosuke, who was already putting out his feelers for backup, nodded. He pinged Trivia, his on-call Moon Lawyer, as well as Aoki Michiko, whom he had a date with scheduled later that day in the Imperial Archive. Perhaps she'd enjoy visiting somewhere likely no other human had set foot.
Aotsuki, meanwhile, was doing much the same. He informed his wife of the situation and assuaged her concern, then delivered the same information to his adviser. Abe no Seimei, however, had some advice to parcel with her response. It may be wise, she suggested, to take Momose Nao. After all, if no mortal could devise a cure for his condition, then perhaps such a panacea lay within the realm of the divine.
It seemed, then, that the two Cardinal Generals were on the cusp of an adventure, with only the gathering of their allies to accomplish before they were to enter the rift above.

Empress Hebizawa Mei

1559年11月17日 16:00 (Afternoon)

Makami-jō

Historical Entry: Empress Hebizawa Mei

A few timely teleports later and Maxim stood with Empress Genmei and Prince Hozumi within a pleasantly-appointed room in the noble wing of Makami-jō. A great wooden trunk, presumably filled with all of the Empress' belongings, sat between them. Outside, the great clock in the building's face tolled out four times.
"Did you need anything else in particular since you will be living here from now on?" the Knight Commander asked.
"This shall be sufficient for now." Genmei picked a piece of lint off the large, Western-style bed, but admired the silky curtains hanging around it with an impressed smile. "Prince Hozumi and I will take a shopping trip to Ago soonest to find decorations for our new quarters."
"If they are available, I'd suggest going with Kitsuno. I'm sure you guys would have things to discuss." Something about what Genmei just said was needling at Maxim's brain, demanding his attention. Ah, that was it. "I'll have to spread word so people don't get scared by the sight of Prince Hozumi."
A musical laugh escaped the Empress. "It does you credit that you would pay any concern to that. Do not fear, I have ways of disguising Prince Hozumi."
How would one disguise a snake of that...magnitude? The mental image of Prince Hozumi in a top hat and a monocle rose unbidden to the forefront of Maxim's mind.
"To be seen with him could reveal my identity, anyway," Genmei was continuing, "There are some who may know Hozumi favored life as a snake before his death."
"Well that's...good." Maxim managed. "We still have the issue of an alias."
Like the great clockwork walls outside, the gears inside Maxim's head were whirring. He would be the first to admit he wasn't the most knowledgeable about Japanese names or their style, but... "How about 'Mei'?"
Fortunately, the Empress seemed to like it. "It carries the old meaning of 'beautiful.' Then, while in your service, I shall be your adviser, Hebizawa Mei."
"Well, that solves that problem. Now, I have some things to discuss with Muramatsu," Maxim excused himself.
--
It had been a bit more of a trial than usual to return to Ago Manor this time. Makami-jō was only a few miles away. Normally he would have simply taken a horse to enjoy the afternoon air, but his stables were empty... Once again, Maxim felt the eerie sensation of being watched, of clopping hooves just around the corner... He'd shaken himself and called up Fujino with Evaine instead.
That hadn't been the most pleasant experience either. It seemed like the little telepath was holding back a chuckle each time she looked at him. All he'd been able to get out of her is that it was something to do with her "and the girls." Maxim didn't know who the girls were or what they were discussing about him, but it left him with an ominous feeling.
Still, he'd made it, and now stood in front of Tanahase Muramatsu's desk with a map of the province laid out in front of them. Together, the two pored over the region's borders, pointing out the best positions for watchtowers along their length. The easy accessibility of teleportation may lead to complacency in more traditional methods of defense, and Maxim wasn't about to let that become a weakness his enemies could exploit.

---

Rewards Granted

Maxim

• +2 Kuma Commendations for recruiting Empress Genmei

Sanosuke

• +2 Kuma Commendations for orchestrating the destruction of a Black Galleon

Created Content

Characters

• Adriel
• Ariel

Organizations

• Malkuth

Plots

• Collegiate Concerns

Report Date

10 Feb 2023

Primary Location

Sumiyoshi-taisha

Secondary Location

Skyhold

Related Plots

• Collegiate Concerns
• Empress-Consort Maxim?
• Heavens' Gate
• Princess of Skyhold
• Waxim et le Molfpaque

Related Characters

• Adriel
• Aotsuki Tsukamoto
• Ariel
• Artiya'il
• Bedivere
• Date Snake Masamune
• Date☾Masamune
• Empress Genmei
• Evaine
• Ganzo Sada
• Hashinara Yoshitakatomo
• Hitotsume-nyūdō
• Kagami
• Mary Lyn
• Matsumoto Ooawagaeri
• Maxim
• Metatron
• Princess Masamune
• Shigeaki Fujino
• Takayama Ukon
• Tama
• Tambouriner
• Tanahase Muramatsu
• Vizier Orat
• Waxim
• Zhyrgal

Related Historical Events

• 1559
  Those Beyond Forgiveness
• 1559
  Empress Hebizawa Mei
• 1559
  Sisters of Malkuth
• 1559
  Zhyrgal Waxes Homesick
• 1559
  The Glory of Creation