Deer Country Network

[This time, the video feed isn't actually of her making. It is being shown from around a corner of a small gathering. Oh, the same trappings and disguises are there, since this is meant to entrap still more into the cult - but it's not got the stage management of the previous one.]

[While still disguised as the crone at the head of the cult, Tavion's modified voice comes through much more strongly. Moreover, the cultists - now some ten in number, Alora included, are wearing the robes that signify their rank and membership. There are two kinds - most are in the simpler colours of the Sith Cultists she had at her beck and call previously - and then there is Alora, her robes a blueish-purple, and a hood of blood red, extending down over her chest and belted at her waist, bearing her personal sigil.]

[Those from Tavion's galaxy may, just seeing that, be having vague feelings of familiarity, but it's what comes next that will possibly set off alarm bells.]

Welcome, our new brethren, welcome to the future.

[This is said to two men, twins, currently floating in front of her, limbs spread, jerking as the Force is imbued into them from the Scepter, bright light beaming into them, traces of it flowing out of their fingertips. This makes ten now, all told. Ten sparks of potential she has fanned into life. The problem, of course, is that she is becoming a victim of her own success - the window gaps into the home universe had allowed her to gather a dozen lightsabers from her cultists there - but soon she'll run out of those, with no really feasible way to make more of them. But success is success. She hardly needs hundreds here.]

There is so much to tell you, and so much for you to discover...

[They had known, going in, at least some of the truth - but now... There is a sound, suddenly, as the person holding the camera dislodges some piece of debris, and then the camera is dropped, the sound of footsteps making a hurried retreat. One of the cultists turns at the sound, and for the briefest of moments a distinctive cylinder - to those who know Force-users, at least, may become visible, before the camera is pulled into Tavion's hand.]

It is nothing, my friends. A curious onlooker.

[And the feed stops.]

[The problem is, of course, that the location was noticeable, findable. People can come looking. And so, she speaks to Alora.]

Take the device. Answer the inevitable. I will be nearby, should any approach you in person and you require...assistance.

[The redheaded woman nods, deeply, and prepares as the others begin to melt away - bearing their newest members with them.]

[OOC: So choose your own adventure here, folks - network questions, maybe come seek Alora in person, and we'll see what happens. I've got no plan, so let's roll some dice?]

[ The video opens on a close-up shot of a lizard’s face. Its eyes are unfocused and unblinking. Its jaw is slack. Sometimes, a tongue flops out, and a hand reaches out to shove it back in.

Without warning, the camera DRAMATICALLY zooms out to reveal Kaworu, holding up a large, floppy lizard. This lizard is literally the size of him. Bigger even, if you include the length of its tail]

Okay, Kaworu! [ A very loud, very enthusiastic woman’s voice. ] You’re up! Time to tell everyone about this extremely important mission! Don’t – Kaworu, come on, you have to hold him up, like we practiced.

[ This is interrupted by some unfortunately shaky camera work. ]

Shinji-kun. His name is Shinji-kun and he’s heavy. You should give me the camera instead.

We don’t know what to feed Shinji-kun. He has little interest in eating even though we’ve had him for months now. It’s odd, most creatures, especially basic ones like him, are driven by the need to eat to survive, yet we can’t find anything that he desires. So far we’ve tried… buttered noodles, rice, cereal, marshmallows, grass, leaves…

What else Gideon?

Dried fruit, protein shakes, nice words written on paper notes, my blood, Kaworu’s blood, a rat we found in the backyard one time, bones. You know, regular animal foods.

[ Gideon shrugs, and the camera moves up and down with it. Professionalism!! ]

We know there was this whole baking competition or whatever going down, so, you know, if any of you want to bake a lizard treat we’d buy you lunch or whatever in exchange. Or just tell us how to feed this lizard.

[ Please!! Help! ]

( ooc: Gideon is in red and Kaworu is in blue. Shinji the lizard is undead, but the two of them have no idea. They just love their re-animated lizard a lot and want the best for him.)

[You always had to manage these things perfectly, she found. Right down to where the video feed would be placed, showing a good angle but not nearly everything. The acolyte holding it had very specific instructions. For now, to look like they were in the background, broadcasting surreptitiously. The stage was deliberately intimate, for such a thing - that, too, played its role. Oh, there would be time for grandiosity later. For now? A basement room, filled with people.]

[They were all Trench residents - all lured there by the same siren song: redress. It was a room of those who had lost, had lost terribly, even. The Pthumerians bred pain and loss with great skill, she found - even the Sith weren't nearly so good at making misery that cut like a whetted knife. For someone like her, it was the perfect setting.]

[She put an elaborate display into her own appearance from behind a small, curtained-off area. At this range, she'd be unrecognizable - hair let down and greyed, body swathed in robes. Every effort had been made through hair, makeup and costume to appear to be a frail old woman, helped along by a young priestess. The Scepter of Rangos in her hand has been disguised, too, wrapped in feathers and bones. The time will come to reveal her role in all this - but for now? For now she bides her time.]

[The young woman helps her onto the small, flat dias that functions as a stage, before Tavion speaks, the querulous voice of an elderly woman:]

Pain. I feel such pain here. Today, Mother Mercy weeps for you all.

[There is a smattering of whispered, surprised talk at the mention of the False Patron, and she suppresses a smile, beneath her good. Good. The first breakthrough is made.]

Yes, she does - she who was thrown down, cast aside by the other Patrons, they who would rule over you as gods, who created this world of pain for you to suffer in. I can feel it, all of it. But the Mother...the Mother has shown me the way, has granted me sight beyond sight. To see your pain. To find those of who you have suffered the most and raise you up into the light of her forgiveness - to make you strong to face this world.

Look around. People brought here with powers, given others, but never you. No, you are made and meant to suffer at their whims, and that breaks the already broken heart of the Mother still further. The others will not raise you up - they offer you beasthood, corruption, suffering. The Mother offers her light, her tears - to create a new tomorrow.

Who here is prepared to step into her light? Who here has suffered enough at the hands of the Patrons to stand up and say no more?

[She waits for the feeling she know she'll catch - a surge of anger, rage, resentment. And she finds it, in one young man. She can feel the miasma in his soul. Oh, yes, he has lost. She points a finger.]

You. Step forward. Whisper to me, whisper to the Mother what you have lost.

[The young man steps forth as offered, and she leans forward, hand against his shoulder, as he tells a tale indeed. Lost parents, poverty, seeing friends succumb to beasts - oh, it is quite the mix. And above all, he wants to do something about it.]

The Mother hears you, child. And gives you...her light.

[She stands tall, then, and the Scepter bursts with light, a beam of it striking the young man and lifting him bodily from the floor, seeming to cover his whole being in curling wisps of light. It only lasts a few seconds, and then he slowly falls. Force users may detect what has happened - not the Scepter itself, ironically: it came with vast amounts of Force energy already stored. And some of it, enough to create Force-sensitivity, has been imbued into this young man. This may not be the first time they have sensed it; the 'priestess' at her arm is her first convert. The man stands, looking at his hands.]

You step into the greater world. [She looks out at the audience.] Will you speak of what has happened this day? Will you tell those you know that Mother Mercy has not forgotten you? Has not abandoned you to suffer, as the Pthumerians have? The times begin to change, from here on. Go! [Her voice rises, allowing a hint of suggestion into what she says.] Stand! Spread the word! And forevermore say: Enough!

[The room practically erupts. Which gives her time to retreat, and time for the 'Priestess' to 'find' the video operator, smiling at him.]

'Hello,'

[Said by a redheaded woman, smiling kindly.]

'My name is Alora, I speak for the Mistress, who in turn speaks for the Mother. We must disperse soon, for safety - but if any wish to ask questions of me, I can briefly answer them.'

[Alora, the name of her last apprentice. She was particularly proud of that. This would be, she promised, just the small beginning.]

[OOC: Feel free to talk to the 'Priestess', or even discuss amongst yourselves! This may all build to a player plot down the line, for now it's just a 'what fresh hell is this' kind of post!]

[The video switches on, and the woman in view may well be unique, what with the vibrant purple face painting - or...or is it tattoos? There are feathers in her air and while her eyes are clear, anybody with instincts will have a bit of a moment with them - and that eager, lopsided smile.]

Well, well, well. Talking through a rock, whatever will they think of next.

[She's been working to gain knowledge of this place, but it's time to dangle things in the water and see what happens next.]

So, gentle souls and not, tell me of this place. For I am newly arrived. Another in the litany of lost souls, it seems.

[By her standards, this is practically pleasant.]

Tell me - has anyone even seen a Pthumerian?


[OOC: If you'd rather have already met her, or meet in person, she arrived Here]