thenearshore | 001 | The Welcoming Feast

Entry tags:

001 | The Welcoming Feast

Who: Everyone!
What: A little bit of explanation, thank goodness.
When: Early morning. (February 15, 2016)
Where: The Heavens. Specifically in the Meeting Hall.
Warnings: Exposition is coming your way, sit back and enjoy the show!

The Heavens have summoned you. And there is no way to turn down a summons from the Heavens. Of course, some of you know where you are and what you are probably doing here, but most of you might be completely confused as to what is going on. All gods have been ushered into the meeting hall, where every person suddenly becomes anonymous and obscured, while every shinki has been gathered up outside in the hallway, both sets to listen to the same message sent by Amaterasu herself. And while you cannot see her properly or really figure out what her voice sounds like, you definitely know that it's her speaking:

'Welcome, one and all, to Takamagahara. There are many new gods and shinki here today, and I hope you all find your stay pleasant. I wish that I could explain to you exactly why you find yourselves here now, but I am unsure of the details myself. Please make use of the shinki dedicated to our services in order to make yourself more acquainted with your new position. You can find them by looking for my golden insignia.

As compensation for the trouble you are all being put through, I have had a wonderful feast prepared. I only hope that it is to your liking. Feel free to eat and drink as much as you would like, though please do not leave before the clock chimes midnight, for that is when your homes will be prepared.

I ask that all pre-existing gods please help those new to our ways. Let them know what is and is not acceptable and what duties will be expected of them. I am counting on your all to support the Heavens in this confusing time as we attempt to sort things out.

Thank you all for your time. And I am truly sorry that you have found yourselves in this situation.

With that, the figure that is Amaterasu bows deeply and disappears from their sights. The gods are released from their chamber and the shinki are allowed to roam. All exits are manned by a white-clad shinki, bearing a golden, embroidered Chrysanthemum on their chests. So, technically, there is no way out. You can't even seem to teleport out by any means.

All that's really left to do is enjoy the food and hope that you'll actually be able to leave after the clock chimes midnight. Though the clock doesn't seem to work on a minute-by-minute basis either...

Banquet Hall

There is food from literally every culture and walk of life here. Everything is prepared gorgeously and deliciously, no expenses spared. There are shinki bearing the Chrysanthemum carrying out new platters of everything as it's eaten up and nothing seems to go hot or cold as time passes - it always at the perfect temperature for eating and it never tastes anything but delicious. Maybe there's a little magic making it taste so good...

On top of the delectable dinner, there are plenty of desserts and every kind of alcohol available and constantly being refilled. The liquor is being offered to gods and shinki alike, no matter how old they are/look. Let's hope that you can hold your alcohol.

Counselling

In the main hallway, there is an innocuous door with a small, nicely written sign that reads "Gentle Counselling". Inside the door is a small room with a few sweetly smiling shinki inside who are willing to listen to your problems and answer any questions you might have. They are also here to help out any gods that are having a hard time dealing with knowing about how their shinki died and also any shinki that is having trouble coming to terms with the fact that they are dead.

Did Someone Say Games?

A large room connected to the back of the banquet hall has a wide variety of games set up for everyone to enjoy. There are old-fashioned board games (like chess and Othello) as well as newer ones (like Candy Land and Sorry!). On top of that, there is every kind of console available with every video game ever made - and plenty of handheld devices for everyone to be able to play. The devices don't seem to work outside of this room, though, so you'll have to stay there if you want to keep playing. Gaming is, after all, a great way to get to know new people!

After Midnight

Finally, the clock starts to chime. It seems like it's been days and yet only minutes at the same time. Time seems to work so strangely here in Takamagahara and it's hard to keep up with what's going on. But now that the shinki guarding the doors have left their posts, you are more than welcome to leave. In fact, the Heavens seem to want you to leave because all of the food has disappeared, none of the games work anymore (including the board games, which keep flipping over when you try to play...), and the friendly shinki are smiling as they usher you out the doors.

You are welcome to start wandering around Takamagahara, but it's an ambiguous sort of place and might just take you straight home anyway. Feel free to go home and start bonding with your partner. Or sneak home with someone else because your partner is a meanie-pants. It's up to you!

In Summary:

Amaterasu says you're stuck here and she doesn't know why. Sorry!
There's lots of food to eat, though! Eat your fill.
Oh, and there's booze too. Try not to get TOO drunk.
Guidance/Grief counselling is available, if you need it.
Use gaming to get close to others!
Try to start bonding with your god/shinki. Or just form new friendships. Whatever you feel best doing!
Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Banquet Hall]
It was shock.

I was shock that saw her ushered into the meeting hall without complaint and shock that kept her silent during Amaterasu's welcome. It was like the shock of waking up on a cold slab in the belly of a Cerberus facility with no recollection of how she got there but a deeply unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach none the less.

It was that feeling and the shock as well that drove her to the bar where a collection of the finest wines and smokiest bourbons awaited to dull the senses. She went for the brightest thing she could find and when the Midori wasn't strong enough on its own she topped it off with some tequila. Aged and completely devoid of respect in the vile concoction that fills her glass.

Step one. Get really drunk. Step two. Try not to walk up on a bathroom floor. Again. Step three ??? Step four. Stage a coup.

Perfect as always, Shepard. If she just ignored the part where she was deep in enemy territory with no visible escape routes. And she was down a sidearm. And a crew.

She presses a hand to her head at the thought of them. How were they doing without her? Would they keep up the fight? Cerberus was certainly driven enough but after that? Would the Alliance retaliate? Would the council let their efforts fizzle out on ignorant fear once again? Clearly she hasn't had enough to drink if she can still think about such unpleasantries so she empties her glass and slams it down on the bar top for a refill.

And since she's in such a bacchanal mood she might as well top off the glass of the next guy too, whether it's wine or just grape juice or anything in between.

“Here’s to health and what'ere befalls.” Yeah. They’re gonna need that.

Edited 2016-02-16 02:43 (UTC)

Bishamon had treated this much like every other godly gathering. After all, it had the same pomp and authority that came with it. The food was fine, the booze plentiful. The only thing that was different was how many other people there were today, both god and shinki. It was like when she'd first arrived in Japan: so many new people to meet, more names to remember, more shinki and gods to introduce herself to. But at least everyone seemed to be having a good time. None of that shy awkwardness -- and clearly, this one had none of that either. Good. That made things easier. The refilled glass is always welcome, after all.

She raised her glass in return, nodding to acknowledge what she'd said. "Good health and good fortune, if a blessing from a god of fortune is to believed." she replied with the smallest smile before taking a small sip from her glass. "I take it everything's to your liking?"

Of course she'd find a seat next to the one person in this place that's happy to be here. She gives Bishamon the once over, then the twice, and it's all colored with a shade of 'are you for real?'. And when she finds no trace of her own sarcasm there, Shepard is forced to conclude that yes, yes she is. Propping her arm on the bar, she settles her head in hand and sets into her drink with a flourish that swirls the blues and greens into a brackish purple.

"I'd say fortune's pretty shit right now." In other words, no, everything is not to her liking one bit. Her liking would be, to be back on her ship, her home, none the wiser to the existence of this place at all.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that's what most would think." she replies with a sigh, closing her eyes as she takes another sip. From what she's seen, it's mixed reactions all around. Some people don't quite seem to mind. Some actually seem rather caught up in the festivities but there are also some (mostly the new shinki, really) who seem to be more distraught than anything. For everyone else, it seems to be business as usual. These newcomers would settle in. They probably had no choice.
"Given what you've said, I can only imagine that this place is nothing like home?" Bishamon offers after, head tilted slightly as she regards her companion.

"Hm." Leaning back against the bar, Shepard surveys that large crowed, really surveys them and it's pretty obvious where the line between resident and captive gets drawn. But where there is also distress, there also seems to be a veil of denial, forced mirth in lieu of something unpleasantly sinister. With a flourish of her glass, she downs half her drink. No matter where she goes, people were always the same.

But she doesn't seem too inclined to share that particular insight with her present company. There's a thing called trust and Shepard is on the opposite end of that field. Instead, she offers Bishamon a wry smirk and a shrug. "Well the food doesn't come in a bag."

Edited 2016-02-21 10:12 (UTC)

Vector turns and narrows his eyes when his glass gets suddenly snatched away. Seeing it refilled quenches his annoyance at the act before it can reach the surface, although it's not forgotten. He never liked anybody making decisions for him.

At least the treat is expensive.

"Whatever befalls, huh? I'd say 'health' is coming a bit too late for about half of the people in this room."

Taking the glass he clicks a claw-tipped finger against it as he shifts back into a pose that will keep most of his face's features in the shadows of his cowl. There is no helping the not quite human pitch in his voice as long as he doesn't have lips to form the words with, but he doesn't expect anybody to mind it as much as the lack of a mouth and a nose and the slightly too big eyes. The dry sarcasm in his words is fully intentional as he toasts into the general direction of the room, though.

"To the many interesting times that lie ahead."

The voice gets her attention though it's less a cause for alarm and more one of surprise. Though pitched a tone or two higher than she's used to, it rings with a kind of harmony she hadn't expected to find here. Were he a bit taller she might have mistaken it for that of a turian. Or batarian god forbid. But it's quickly made clear that the form beneath the cloak, though it may hide a lot, is much closer to human in shape and only a pair of eyes are a visible mirror to her own.

Still, she stares for perhaps a moment longer than is strictly necessary and two longer than is certainly polite before she returns to her drink. So they can kidnap aliens just as easily as humans. That shouldn't seem so strange. If anything, she would expect to see more.

"Then I suppose I have one thing to be thankful for."

And at his toast, she raises her glass in kind, a wry smirk on her face. "For as long as that is."

He lets out a dry chuckle in response. It's not high-pitched or maniac like his true laugh and closer to an amused snort of a predator than the real sign of affection it mimics. Returning the glass to the bar's surface, he tilts his head as his eyes narrow slightly with curiosity.

"Strifes will come and go as long as humanity still has a place to exist. I don't hate that." A perfectly timed pause. "I see you have noticed my face. Does it not bother you?"

He had experimented with some of the shinki before and they all had been positively creeped the moment they had realized that it wasn't an eccentric mask.

Ah yes, the old adage. The universe just loves chaos doesn't it? And in a way, though it's an odd thought, she was on its side. But this was a bit much even by chaos' standards.

She sips at her drink thoughtfully and mulls over his words, and then his inquiry. If anything that was the bigger concern at the moment. It took a certain kind of person to ask a question of that sort, bold faced and cocksure as it was. Someone certainly had a high opinion of themselves. Then again, two could play at that game.

"I don't know. Should it?" Her eyes, a cool green, are colored completely unimpressed.

Edited 2016-02-22 00:45 (UTC)

"Heh." He holds her gaze for a moment longer, noting the way her eyes meet his and the utter refusal to let herself be moved by one of the usual games. He averts his eyes just before it becomes too long, opting to look out at the crowd and something surreal beyond it instead.

"That depends on the circumstances. Most humans who aren't used to it seem to have trouble looking at our faces directly once they know that there's no human features beneath. Too close yet too different, I guess."

He shrugs his shoulders and gestures at the crowd in general. "I scared some of our host's servants before. I'd rather not become the spook of this place right away."

"Uncanny valley." She names the phenomenon aloud without shifting her attention, imagining its effect during the earliest expeditions into space, at the very moments of first contact. But that was decades ago and humanity has had a long time to get used to it. Now, it was nothing remarkable and there seemed to be more that bound galactic civilization than divided them -- even if they failed to realize it pretty much all the time.

Following his gaze outward, Shepard assesses the crowd and it seems she's been thrown backwards in more ways than one. She taps out the seconds on the side of her glass until, with a dull cracking, the ice shifts and settles further in her drink.

"So what you're saying is, you're something special even where you come from?"

And the question she doesn't ask but it lingers in the currents of their conversation all the same: if right away doesn't suit him, when would?

"Hmmmm~? When did I ever say anything hinting towards that?"

His voice is absolutely neutral as he regards her from the corners of his eyes. There is no muscle in his face that betrays what he thinks as he neither confirms nor denies her assumption.

Well, it looks like she's found herself quite the dance partner. Step by step they weave an ever more intricate tango and while she wouldn't say she's interested, she knows when someone is best kept within the web.

"I wonder..." The smile on her lips is enigmatic and knowing, like the feint before she takes a final shot. If he wanted to catch her then he'd better keep up.

A sip. "Mórrígan." She gives him her adopted name not because she wants to hide her true self from him -- a little resolve coupled with some juvenile detective work would uncover it easily enough -- but rather because it says quite a bit more about her. "God of war and deadly premonitions."

"......." A bluff, and a cheap one at that. His eyes curve in amusement for a second as he performs a complicated little gesture with his head that is both a nod and a shake alongside a myriad of other little motions in between.

She reminds him of that butterfly woman that Faker had employed during that Carnival game of his, and who had later insisted of trying to get in their way even though her strength had been laughably weak. Was this another one, thinking she's all that when she's actually just another insect waiting for the needle like that boring little wench? Hopefully she'll put up more of a struggle once the fighting starts again. Watching one-sided battles is so damn boring unless they're also utterly crushing the spirit of the losing party.

His eyes don't shy away from meeting hers anymore when he answers. "Ma'at. Not much of a deity but the principle that keeps the world going. Don't make me pull out a feather, and I promise that we can be good friends as long as I don't have to haul you back from crushing too hard over some stupid idol or you decide that the middle of a city is the best place for a shinki dick waving contest with lots of collateral damage. I don't waste time with visions once I get involved."

Despite his words there is a notion of an amiable smile in his voice.

Edited 2016-02-22 05:30 (UTC)

To Shepard, the measure of the man before her is quickly beginning to take on an identifiable shape. Not only was there something unique about him -- why else would his presence cause such an alarm, if he was to be believed, and he certainly did -- it was clear he bought into the hype. It's enough to make her laugh and she does, loud enough to draw attention to them but clipped short so it doesn't linger. "Well someone's taking this awfully seriously."

Although, not everything he says makes perfect sense -- thank the drinks for that -- she thinks she remembers stories of gods long dead and forgotten, of truth and justice, and of frightening creatures that go bump in the night. But even they had long since vacated the dreams of small children.

"But don't worry. I don't need any feathers to tell me where I'm going." She's tracing lines on the bar top and she thinks this guy, Ma'at, is clever enough to read between them. If not, he doesn't stand a chance anyway. Her finger follows the grain of the dark, polished wood and written there is her indifference, her nonchalance, how utterly unimpressed she is.

OTA

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