Tahirah gathers her cards with a snap.  "Perhaps perfection is not so easily thwarted afterall," she mutters.  Even as her deck disappears into her sleeve, a single card remains in her hand, held easily between two fingers.  Holding it up in front of her, she flicks it through a rapid series of shapes, concentrating.

Berd sighs.  This isn't going as easily as he hoped.  It's not a simple thing recreating the bowl perfectly - oh, he could slap something into place, but it wouldn't fit correctly, and who knew what that would do?

As for the other issue...

The amount of energy an orb this size could hold would be staggering, even for the drake.  Certainly his own body would not be capable of carrying such power, or even acting as a lens to channel it.  And without knowing the nature of the energy, he has no idea how to go about dealing with it.  Rupturing the orb could release power far in excess of what he might safely handle.

The drake conveys this information to his daughter, who sighs.  "Aaron.  You know how to deal with these things...where are you?"  The edge in her tone goes beyond simple frustration; Cyan has lost too many people on this quest.

Still awaiting James' reply, she turns back to Tahirah.  "Something, Tahirah?  Please tell me you have a plan or a method for dealing with this."

While Cyan finally manages to contact James, Berd continues to work on reshaping the bowl.  There is, however a small problem, as he is discovering.  The Archons had sculpted it to very precise dimensions and, with the amount of damage his own attacks had done, it is difficult to be sure that he is reproducing those exact dimensions.

Alongside him, Tahirah starts drawing patterns in the air, using one of her strange cards, with the bizarre design inscribed upon it, to trace invisible forms before.  Her strange movements are watched, with considerable interest, by an attentive audience of Banglen-Yps.

Berd pauses a moment, staring at Tahirah.  His mouth cracks open and he utters a single, small peep.  Then the drake redoubles his efforts, straining to get as much finished as possible.  With Tahirah's assistance, he might be able to pull off something that at least looks proper and won't puncture the Orb.

But what to do with it once it is captured?  Destroy it, perhaps, but how?  A number of options spring to mind, but without some knowledge of how much power it might release, even shattering it within the Underflow might have catastrophic results.

Channelling it, though.  Using it.  He studies Cyan for a moment, and a plan begins to form in the recesses of one of his minds.  Tahirah has shown great potential.  There is the matter of James' newfound ability.  The Banglen-Yp's have untapped depth....

Worth consideration.

Cyan continues to focus on the palanquet, nodding slowly.  "Right...I might require you, and one other of your unit.  Briefly.  Berd?"

Berd catches a picture from her mind, and a look of disgust flows over his reptilian features.  Nevertheless, he prepares himself, one mind peeling away from the work.  Moments pass, then her clothing begins to shift, blurring and changing.  Slowly it becomes armor, solid, black, heavy, with a nightmarish face on the breastplate.

The armor of Ares...and the Warrior in Jet and Gold.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:11, Tue 12 Apr 2011.

Right laughs, and calls out, + APPOLYON! +  One of the other danioti spins forward to hover alongside him.  Cyan, clad suddenly in ornate gold and black armour extends her left hand, and the two Archons reduce in size and slide carefully over her index and middle fingers.

Then her right hand reaches out, and something seems to pull her, and she vanishes...

Berd returns to his work on the bowl, assisted by Tahirah.  Between the two of them, they seem to be making good progress.  The depression is looking more and more like it's original form, at least in the mind of anybody who looks at it...

 

Group hug.

Huddle.

Whispers unheard.

Seemingly all of the Banglen-Yp's had gathered together in silence communion without a spoken word, Archon-impressionists and others alike.  Countless identical faces looked at one another and then the sea of bodies parted to let a single individual approach the little drake and the hooded woman.

•• I • we • will help ••

Assertive words spoken as the group behind her seemed to lose coherency, as if they became out of focus.  The single Banglen-Yp turned around and rejoined the others who closed up behind her, losing her in the crowd.

Moments later the group began to blur, slowly fading around the edges until naught but a cloud of blackness remained, constantly shifting and pulsating.  No shadow gave shape to the cloud into which light itself appeared to be absorbed with a vengeance.  Billowing it began to move into the seeming perfect bowl, as if trickling into place.  Once it all had entered the bowl, more than covering it, the cloud seemed to settle, slowly, upon the surface until nothing remained visible, as if were it not there at all.

 

Between the efforts of Berd, Tahirah and the Banglen-Yps, the bowl now closely resembles its original self.  So closely, in fact, that none of those observing it can see any obvious differences.  A large piece of rubble suddenly slips, and falls into the hollow, where it crumbles to powder, and is quickly absorbed by the stone surface, which isn't really stone...

With a small shudder, Tahirah lowers her arm, and steps back from the bowl.  She folds her arms in, and looks around.  Banglen-Yp...she assumed was still... more or less whatever she usually was, or had been before -- she assumed that Banglen-Yp still was.

But for the moment, it seemed to be just...her and Berd.

Her arms pull a little bit tighter, and she wraps herself in silence.

Berd settles himself into place upon the windowsill.  He glances out into the altered bowl, studying it for a long moment, then cocks his head at Tahirah, letting out a small chirrup of interrogation.

The drake settles in to preen himself, glancing around at the other archons - Amabael, Right's troops - with a touch of nervousness.

Then he glances again at Tahirah and blows a small cloud of rainbow smoke her way.  It billows as it flows through the air, flowing to a stop about three feet from her and warping into a crosshatch, almost like a '#' sign.  Berd grins, his eyes glittering, and breathes a smoke ring that floats to hang in the top-right corner.

After a short pause, Tahirah reaches out and traces a softly glowing circle in the center.

Berd closes his eyes sleepily, slowly opening them again.  He blows out another small smoke-ring...it floats across the gap to the opposite corner to his first, the bottom left.

Tahirah's center X is now bracketed top right and bottom left.

There comes a gentle tap, tap, tapping at her mental walls.

Without a pause this time, almost as if she had already known his response, Tahirah quickly sketches another circle in the bottom center, below her first.

There is a pause after the mental tapping; after a little while, however, her hood seems to fade back from where it hangs before her face.  She doesn't exactly `open up', let alone `reach out', but there's a quiet relaxation of not-actively-defending that seems to be as much invitation as she's prepared to offer here.

Ah.  Game over, then.  Berd shrugs - there is no possible win now unless one of them actually throws it to the other.  He coughs out another smoke-ring to block Tahirah's potential 3-in-a-row, top middle, leaving only one option for her to keep him from winning - top left.

Interesting/curious your (solution/overlay) to (problem/issue) of (landingzone/smoothbowl)....
This message was last edited by the player at 17:24, Tue 26 Apr 2011.

Time passes, as Berd and Tahirah engage in a game of strategy.  Down below, the Banglen-Yps keep their own counsel.  The Archon, too, seem to be involved in a discussion of sorts, reduced in size until they are no bigger than small flying insects, their voices a quiet buzz and whine which completes the illusion.

Suddenly the majority of the Archons dart away, leaving only one behind.  Amabael grows in size, until she is more easily heard, + THEY HAVE GONE INTO HIDING, SCATTERED AMONG THE RUINS.  WE HAVE INSTRUCTED THEM NOT TO MOVE TOO FAR AWAY, BUT FAR ENOUGH THAT THEY WILL NOT BE SO EASILY DETECTED. +
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:24, Mon 25 Apr 2011.

Tahirah resolutely makes the logical response.  She is, again, quiet for a moment, and when she does respond, it's brief, and perhaps not really an answer.

Overwhelmed.  She shakes her head, sharply.

Amabael starts to move away, then stops suddenly.  + THEY APPROACH. +  For a moment she holds her ground, and then she darts away, dwindling as she goes...

This...could be a problem.

Berd sends out an urgent message to Cyan on the specific 'frequency' only they share.  Simultaneously, he focuses one of his minds upon the approaching Seraphim, scanning them as best he can while opening an image of what he senses in midair, through the convenient use of a cloud of smoke.

...a small group of Archons approaching through the Underflow.  They are still far enough away that he can't make out details, but they have something with them.  Alarmingly, perhaps, at this distance it doesn't feel like an orb...

Not good.  Not good at all.

Minutes pass.  Right's force, and Amabael, are all out of sight, reduced in size and as still as an Archon can be without harming itself.  Even Berd is having trouble detecting them, and he knows where to look.

Gradually something starts to happen, high overhead.  Clouds are moving fast in the sky, and all are moving away from the location which the Seraphim have prepared for their scheme, until the sky directly above the bowl is completely empty.

But only briefly.

A danioti appears, hovering over the hollowed area, far enough up that the sound of its blades do not reach those on the ground.  It hovers, seeming to assess the area, and then two more come, silently, into view, along with the crackling lightning form of a herenathi.  For a space of five or six heartbeats, nothing further happens, and then the sky is alive with Archons, all of them circling around a single eshurianti, which starts down towards the ground, the hoop of flame growing larger as it descends...

Oh, no.  Not good at all.  Berd sends out a stronger summons for his daughter, impressing upon her the need for haste.  Another of the hydra-mind cloaks his presence as best he can - he assumes Tahirah has her own methods for such things.  Certainly Banglen-Yp is capable; this he knows as fact.

And there, amidst the group, is the Archon carrying...whatever it is they plan to land.  He knows they can do so.  The question is - will it be an Orb, or something else?  What else could it be?  What have they not yet seen?

For the moment, the drake can only speculate.  One of his minds delicately reaches out, probing the formation for numbers, for strength, seeking to assess any leaders.  Another carefully studies the eshurianti that grows amidst the group.  And he waits, preparing for Cyan's touch.  Preparing to act.

The eshurianti descends, slowing as it does, and rolls until it is horizontal.  And it continues to expand, until its diameter matches that of the bowl.  Finally, just above the ground surface, it stops, and something starts to emerge from it.

Disaster!  The Archons have brought a Cube - a monstrous one, with thousands of 'faces'!

Appalled, Berd sends the image to Cyan along with an urgent request for her presence.  Simultaneously, he transmits to those nearby - Right, Amabael, Tahirah, and Banglen-Yp (though the latter may not be capable of reception).

A Cube!  A gateway to other worlds, utilizing the forces my daughter names palanquet and those of Amber name 'Trump'!  This one contains thousands of potential doorways!

His minds race, seeking an answer.  Do they wish to open a thousand gateways to a thousand worlds, all at once?  For what purpose?  What affect will that happen?  One mind peels away to examine the hypothisis, seeking an answer.  What if they open to dozens of worlds that have grown thin, through the depredations of the Orbs?  Another mind shifts away to study.  They have created a line of breaks, stretching from pole to pole of the Myriad Worlds - a third mind begins a scan of the worlds imaged on the Cube, seeking matches among the line of damage strung between Chaos and Amber.

But there is no time.  He must bring his daughter here - palanqueti are strong, but she carries a weapon capable of destroying even this enormous device.  Another mind prepares to receive his daughter's request.

Four minds occupied.  Twice as many more gird themselves for battle.

Yes, is Tahirah's only reply, as she looks up at the emerging orb.

And then, having only one mind to work with, she goes quiet.

The object descends from, not falling, but but floating as if it was entirely without weight.  The eshurianti, deprived of its burden, begins to shrink.

It's a cube, not an orb, and every face bears the image of a different place.  But they are difficult to see clearly, for there is a wrongness about this cube.  It has, in point of fact, far to many sides for its angles to contain.

It drops into the bowl, but stops before it contacts the ground.  And then it starts to rotate, spinning on three different axes, while hovering.  With each passing moment, its rotations become faster...

 

Over the link came countless voices as one.


» Oh, _pretty.  ^Shall I _eat it ^or is _it of ^value?  _It looks ^tasty _too! «


Oh, it did look tasty.  Oh, it did feel tasty.  Oh, how Banglen-Yp could devour it with pleasure.

And yet, holding back, waiting for an answer.

 

Berd makes his decision, studying the cube.  Even as Cyan's call touches his open mind, the others come to a concensus and his attention falls upon Banglen-Yp.

Yes.  Feed.

The cube must be destroyed.  If the shapeshifter has a means...if she can consume it...

The drake turns his attention (in part) to the leader of the Archons, the one who carried the cube.  Cyan would, no doubt, have a clever strategem, something to have the Archons fight among themselves.  Berd does not.  Instead, he takes a page from the book of his son.

The polarity of the air below the eshurianti alters, linking it to the metals buried in the rubble.  Grounding it.

And Berd's tiny body reaches a claw out for his daughter.  Touches her hand.