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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)
- Thread starter Mr Zoat
- Start date
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- Tags
- self insert young justice
Break Time (part 12)
Mr Zoat
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17th February 2013
18:00 GMT
"Okay. Turn left."
I can feel Match twist slightly, and then the oversized robot toy thing we're hiding inside turns too. Spoofing its transponder so that their control system didn't pick up on it wasn't easy, defeating it without completely wrecking it and then hollowing it out so we could hide inside it and still get the messages from its control centre was even harder. There's no way that it would pass a detailed inspection, and I really wouldn't want Match to fight wearing it while I was still inside.
But we're inside the castle now. Whatever it's actually called.
Batman doesn't have great records on this place, or whatever these robot drones are called. Back in the sixties there was a British man who fought crime using remote controlled robot… Toys. His name was either Eric Dolmann or Jonas Luthor -no relation- and he didn't ever use a code name that couldn't also be an actual name. He used Jonas when he ran the electronics repair shop he used as a cover and 'Doll Man' for a guy who fights crime using robot dolls sounds like it's not a real name, but there's not enough info in the database to know for sure. He hasn't been seen for over a decade anyway, but these look like they use an updated version of the same concept: giant science fiction combat robots.
My arm computer lights up as the central computer sends another query message to what it thinks is just another simple drone in its system. My computer's emulator sends the only response that could explain why we're where we are: serious damage detected, returning to workshop.
If I was the one programming the system, damage like that would make a robot shut down and then make a separate robot fly over, pick the damaged robot up and then fly it to be repaired. Maybe with the castle covered in wards that sort of system can't be made to work, or there are only so many doorways and they don't want to remodel.
"Okay, two robots ahead."
"Right."
The system has the approaching robots send the I.F.F. signal, which the robots on guard mode check with their own internal records. Good job I spotted that before trying this, or we'd never have gotten past the guards at the front gate.
"Hey, where do you think all the people are?"
"I don't know yet." The system that controlled this robot doll wasn't designed to ask questions like that. The drones aren't supposed to be all that mentally sophisticated; anything like that just gets referred to the central computer. That's gotta be some kind of A.I. but I don't know if it's actually got a personality. "If they were just using this as an operating base… I mean, we didn't used to have a lot of people in the Mountain.."
"I guess."
There's a short signal from the left guard robot, pulses decreasing in duration-.
"Okay, stop in two… One… Stop."
Match stops, and the left robot turns his 'face' towards us to do a full scan. It doesn't transmit it to us, because there's no point. What would a simple robot do with that information other than decide whether to return or not? But my computer picks up the message it sends back to the main computer.
I don't want to try hacking it without as much information as I can get, because government centres like this can use custom operating systems and sometimes even custom programming languages. And I don't know how smart the A.I. is or what kinds of things get its attention.
And I really don't want to get Mannheim's attention again.
I don't-.
Breathe in, breathe out. Remember what you're here for, and that this is gunna be over. I don't exactly think that I'm going to be laughing about this in a few years, but I know for sure that Mannheim isn't either.
"…bin?"
Huh. Ah, okay, the robot-. I missed the first dismissal transmission, but it looks like it accepted that as being a result of the damage. The second transmission was at a higher power level. Send the acknowledgement.
And the doors open.
"Okay, start walking again."
The doors look wooden, but Paul's magic-detecting amulet has been glowing constantly since we got here so it could be anything. The door mechanism-. It's like a giant hug-me toy attached to the ceiling upside down, with its arms threaded through a wheel mechanism just above the doors. If it was a person it would basically be having its arm bones pulverised whenever it opened or closed the doors, which fits the Anti-Life but doesn't match the records for Luthor/Dolmann. He used to pretend that his automatons were real people.
Now I think about it, that reminds me of the Ventriloquist.
"Hey there, Mister Centurior."
There's a woman over at a work bench. She's slumped and wearing messy overalls and has the look of someone who's been too badly Anti-Lifed to really take care of themselves properly. Her hands are constantly moving over a control panel, and there's a bank of.. dozens of monitors on the wall in front of her. I spot the feed from the two outside, and… That one is our feed.
There isn't an A.I.. She's handling it all.
"You've been in a fight."
She's not watching us, she's watching the screen-. The top down view of the workshop screen. The door-opening robot has cameras mounted in its eyes.
"I wonder who with? No, wait. I don't wonder things any more."
She presses a series of buttons, and we get another move command.
"Into the machine you go."
A corner of the room lights up, and there's a-. Boxy mechanical face with chomping teeth. It has large mechanical arms, a nose and eyes and for some reason it's painted a bright cheerful green color. The teeth open up to show a conveyor belt inside and the faint glow of a furnace further in.
I take a EMP batarang out of my utility belt, hold it in front of Match's face until he checks what it is and nods in acknowledgement, then hit the activator and drop it down the right leg. A few seconds pass, and then there's a fizz and a bright flash. A couple of seconds more and Match makes a show of trying to move that leg and not being able to while I prepare the knock-out gas.
"This is why they all left me behind, isn't it? I can't make anything work right. Armstrong, throw it in."
For a moment nothing moves. Then there's a squeaking noise from the ceiling as the door opening robot pulls its arms free from the wheel mechanism-
"Break out on three. I'll knock her out, you get the creepy long-armed robot."
-and then grabs onto rungs underneath it to kinda pull itself down. Looks like it's attached to the ceiling somehow, like an upside down jack-in-the-box.
"Right."
"One."
A second pair of arms drop down from its shoulders and grab the next set of rungs.
"Two."
A third set of arms drop down from its back and grab the rungs on the floor and that is a seriously creepy robot face. And I can see that the woman is the one controlling it. Does she just talk to it because she's crazy?
Guess we'll find out in a moment.
"Three."
18:00 GMT
"Okay. Turn left."
I can feel Match twist slightly, and then the oversized robot toy thing we're hiding inside turns too. Spoofing its transponder so that their control system didn't pick up on it wasn't easy, defeating it without completely wrecking it and then hollowing it out so we could hide inside it and still get the messages from its control centre was even harder. There's no way that it would pass a detailed inspection, and I really wouldn't want Match to fight wearing it while I was still inside.
But we're inside the castle now. Whatever it's actually called.
Batman doesn't have great records on this place, or whatever these robot drones are called. Back in the sixties there was a British man who fought crime using remote controlled robot… Toys. His name was either Eric Dolmann or Jonas Luthor -no relation- and he didn't ever use a code name that couldn't also be an actual name. He used Jonas when he ran the electronics repair shop he used as a cover and 'Doll Man' for a guy who fights crime using robot dolls sounds like it's not a real name, but there's not enough info in the database to know for sure. He hasn't been seen for over a decade anyway, but these look like they use an updated version of the same concept: giant science fiction combat robots.
My arm computer lights up as the central computer sends another query message to what it thinks is just another simple drone in its system. My computer's emulator sends the only response that could explain why we're where we are: serious damage detected, returning to workshop.
If I was the one programming the system, damage like that would make a robot shut down and then make a separate robot fly over, pick the damaged robot up and then fly it to be repaired. Maybe with the castle covered in wards that sort of system can't be made to work, or there are only so many doorways and they don't want to remodel.
"Okay, two robots ahead."
"Right."
The system has the approaching robots send the I.F.F. signal, which the robots on guard mode check with their own internal records. Good job I spotted that before trying this, or we'd never have gotten past the guards at the front gate.
"Hey, where do you think all the people are?"
"I don't know yet." The system that controlled this robot doll wasn't designed to ask questions like that. The drones aren't supposed to be all that mentally sophisticated; anything like that just gets referred to the central computer. That's gotta be some kind of A.I. but I don't know if it's actually got a personality. "If they were just using this as an operating base… I mean, we didn't used to have a lot of people in the Mountain.."
"I guess."
There's a short signal from the left guard robot, pulses decreasing in duration-.
"Okay, stop in two… One… Stop."
Match stops, and the left robot turns his 'face' towards us to do a full scan. It doesn't transmit it to us, because there's no point. What would a simple robot do with that information other than decide whether to return or not? But my computer picks up the message it sends back to the main computer.
I don't want to try hacking it without as much information as I can get, because government centres like this can use custom operating systems and sometimes even custom programming languages. And I don't know how smart the A.I. is or what kinds of things get its attention.
And I really don't want to get Mannheim's attention again.
I don't-.
Breathe in, breathe out. Remember what you're here for, and that this is gunna be over. I don't exactly think that I'm going to be laughing about this in a few years, but I know for sure that Mannheim isn't either.
"…bin?"
Huh. Ah, okay, the robot-. I missed the first dismissal transmission, but it looks like it accepted that as being a result of the damage. The second transmission was at a higher power level. Send the acknowledgement.
And the doors open.
"Okay, start walking again."
The doors look wooden, but Paul's magic-detecting amulet has been glowing constantly since we got here so it could be anything. The door mechanism-. It's like a giant hug-me toy attached to the ceiling upside down, with its arms threaded through a wheel mechanism just above the doors. If it was a person it would basically be having its arm bones pulverised whenever it opened or closed the doors, which fits the Anti-Life but doesn't match the records for Luthor/Dolmann. He used to pretend that his automatons were real people.
Now I think about it, that reminds me of the Ventriloquist.
"Hey there, Mister Centurior."
There's a woman over at a work bench. She's slumped and wearing messy overalls and has the look of someone who's been too badly Anti-Lifed to really take care of themselves properly. Her hands are constantly moving over a control panel, and there's a bank of.. dozens of monitors on the wall in front of her. I spot the feed from the two outside, and… That one is our feed.
There isn't an A.I.. She's handling it all.
"You've been in a fight."
She's not watching us, she's watching the screen-. The top down view of the workshop screen. The door-opening robot has cameras mounted in its eyes.
"I wonder who with? No, wait. I don't wonder things any more."
She presses a series of buttons, and we get another move command.
"Into the machine you go."
A corner of the room lights up, and there's a-. Boxy mechanical face with chomping teeth. It has large mechanical arms, a nose and eyes and for some reason it's painted a bright cheerful green color. The teeth open up to show a conveyor belt inside and the faint glow of a furnace further in.
I take a EMP batarang out of my utility belt, hold it in front of Match's face until he checks what it is and nods in acknowledgement, then hit the activator and drop it down the right leg. A few seconds pass, and then there's a fizz and a bright flash. A couple of seconds more and Match makes a show of trying to move that leg and not being able to while I prepare the knock-out gas.
"This is why they all left me behind, isn't it? I can't make anything work right. Armstrong, throw it in."
For a moment nothing moves. Then there's a squeaking noise from the ceiling as the door opening robot pulls its arms free from the wheel mechanism-
"Break out on three. I'll knock her out, you get the creepy long-armed robot."
-and then grabs onto rungs underneath it to kinda pull itself down. Looks like it's attached to the ceiling somehow, like an upside down jack-in-the-box.
"Right."
"One."
A second pair of arms drop down from its shoulders and grab the next set of rungs.
"Two."
A third set of arms drop down from its back and grab the rungs on the floor and that is a seriously creepy robot face. And I can see that the woman is the one controlling it. Does she just talk to it because she's crazy?
Guess we'll find out in a moment.
"Three."
Last edited:
Ngamer11
Experienced.
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That should say "we're".
That should say 'these'.
That should say 'detecting'.
I hope we get a name for this mysterious woman. Even if she's just a minor character, it would be nice to get a little info on who she is.
Cuchulin
Versed in the lewd.
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Norse Myth/Legends sometimes make little distinction between Trolls and Jotnar, I chose Trolls because people think of Trolls as being ugly and in Celtic myth the Fomorians are usually very ugly as well as often "deformed" being associated with the Sea. Sea Trolls being a thing in Norse Myth/Legends.
Mr Zoat
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Chojin Patriarch
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Ah, Robin and Match. I forgot about the team investigating the real-world side of this little chain of abductions. And doing it by turning themselves into a trojan horse? Impressively clever. Probably helps that Robin is still fairly small, or things would be even tighter in there.
A rare case of 'Steven Ulysses Perhero' in real life.
Ironically, there is a 'Doll Man' running around. A remnant of the Golden age, a 'shrinking' hero who's fighting form is about six inches tall. If he were created these days, he'd probably be called 'Action Figure' or something silly like that.Be glad they're not as smart as you are, then. Or as paranoid.
Heh. Honestly, I've have had a second hidden IFF system, just in case anyway. Again, be glad they're not that paranoid...
Ah, like Battle Droids in 'Star Wars'. Main functions linked to a central battle computer, on-the-ground logic handled by a very dumb cyberbrain.
Betting that's an 'approach and halt' guidance signal.
And hopefully it didn't notice any internal differences. That would be for the technical staff to handle.
Ooof. He's gonna need some therapy when this is done. Hopefully by a professional, not just Black Canary wearing a different hat.
Whoops. Joy of PTSD moments: lost time.
That must be a little uncomfortable for Match, especially if the robot's legs are differently proportioned to his. ...Or he's just using Kryptonian flight and waggling the legs as needed.
Which suggest that someone else is playing with his toybox.
Ah, here's your culprit now, then.
As Mr Zoat just informed us, this is Penny Dolmann, daughter of Eric. And evidently a dab hand with her father's tools.
Well, if she's playing all of them by hand, of course she'd struggle to find time to look away.
Heh. An unusually lively reaction to Anti-Life. I guess she had some compatiblility with it before application. Depression, a dark sense of humour, that sort of thing.
...All right. Guess they just strip and recycle damaged units.
...Ooh, that sounds bad. Looks like they might need to indulge in some face-punching.
Since Match is slightly stronger, being a full-strength kryptonian...
At least the name makes sense. Big arms, must be very strong.
...Huh. Slightly creepy now.
Eesh. Wonder how many more pairs of arms it might be hiding back there.
Let the face-punching commence! ...Lightly, in 'Bad' Penny's case.
Another deep English comics cut by Mr Zoat here. Still, at least there's someone in charge here they can take down to stop these things. I'd hate to imagine them having to bust up every bot individually. And then they can maybe find out why all this has been set up... So, that's three parties down. Presumably things will focus back on OL soon, and we'll be seeing more of the
Lord Ernest
At the End...
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It's true that sometimes the word troll is used to describe some Jotunn, but I believe is used more as a descriptor or adjective, rather than identifying them as Trolls. Jotnar are clearly depicted as divine, not only being mythological representations of dangerous and adversarial forces, but also easily intermingling with the actual Pantheon.
Same thing happens with Fomorians, they mythically represent wild or destructive forces, are a society unto themselves and also intermingle with the main Pantheon; Lugh is partially descended from Fomorians, same way some Aesir are partially descended from Jotnar. That they're mainly described or imagined as ugly is equivalent to Jotnar being mainly described or imagined as gigantic, when in fact their races have individuals that are apparently not ugly nor gigantic.
That's why I say that, by their nature, they're more equivalent, Fomorians and Jotnar, rather than equating them to Trolls. Most people understand trolls to be ugly, yes, but also to be simpleminded monsters or fantastical beasts, nothing beyond that.
moralrelativity
Recovering pendant.
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door -> doors
Centurior -> Centurion ?
Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
No, that's what she named it.
BartlettMagic
peekaboo, you fucks you!
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bit of an awkward phrase here. maybe 'fights crime using robot dolls'?
Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
Darko
Connoisseur.
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"watching the screen"
Darko
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Ooof. He's gonna need some therapy when this is done. Hopefully by a professional, not just Black Canary wearing a different hat.
It'll pretty much be a blind leading the blind situation since every therapist on Earth is likely affected.
RoasterToaster
This is fine.
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Clearly, everyone needs Sanctuary and therapist bots based on WW/SM/BM's best aspects is the way to go! Nothing could go wrong!
PDV
Revelation That Uncertainty Is Itself An Answer
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A giant what?
Duke Long
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'empire-rulers'? I'm never quite sure about hyphens.
'had my back'
'magic-detecting'?
Break Time (part 13)
Mr Zoat
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17th February 2013
18:05 GMT
I snatch my left hand back and cut the connection as the recumbent woman's chest cavity starts trying to drink down the orange light I'm trying to use to infuse her heart with purpose. It wasn't doing that before. Someone knows what I'm doing and is taking countermeasures.
I shake my head at Philippus. "That's me out of ideas, I'm afraid. A heart didn't work, the healing ray didn't work and any orange light I try using just gets absorbed."
Philippus frowns at Qualpopoca. "If we use the rites of your people, a few drops of blood is all that it takes?"
He nods. "Yes. We offer the hearts of sacrifices to the gods to sustain them, but it was also customary for every warrior to offer a few drops of their own blood as well."
The woman I took from Themyscira hasn't recovered, but Qualpopoca obviously knows more aboutAztec Mexica magic than I do.
"Would she be restored when we defeat Tlazolteotl?"
"I do not know. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps her soul will be so damaged that it will simply fall apart without Tlazolteotl's magic."
"Do you know why Tlaltecuhtli was eating the heartless?"
"She was not eating them. She was taking them into the earth to be purified."
"Does that work? I thought that there was a whole process you had to go through to be reincarnated."
"If you want to be reborn as yourself, yes. I believe that Tlaltecuhtli seeks to preserve as much of their essence as she can, in their damaged state. Or perhaps she believes that removing Tlazolteotl's magic is sufficient. The dead are hard to completely kill." He sighs. "I cannot say for certain. I was a warrior, not a priest."
Philippus nods. "It would be better to make her whole. She may have useful information. I will-."
"No, Captain." One of the Heraklya -a woman named Annis- steps forward. "It would be better to use mine. If there is a trap within her, I am better able to resist."
Philippus glances at me for confirmation. "Demi-gods have an inherent resistance to being changed by external magic. I'm not sure that it would be enough to actually matter in this context, but she'd be more resilient that you would."
Qualpopoca stares at Annis. "Demi-goddess?"
"Zeus, deposed King of Olympus, is my grandfather."
She doesn't look at me when she says 'deposed', but I feel the look she doesn't give. Darn, he's still out on Earth somewhere, isn't he? He shouldn't be too great a security risk, but I… I didn't want him dead. Or driven mad.
"The gods of my people do not breed with mortals. If the Orange Lantern says that it will work, I have nothing to add."
Philippus waits a moment, then nods. Annis draws her sword, runs the edge against the meat of her thumb, and then drips a few drops of blood onto the woman's open heart. Then she wipes the residual blood off the blade, and the scab off her already-healed thumb. And in the meantime her blood drops just sort of sit on the exposed heart, doing nothing.
Qualpopoca shrugs. "Perhaps more blood is needed."
"More blood isn't always the answer. Sometimes it's better to-."
The heart fibrillates.
I reach in with my right hand and grasp it, forcing it to beat in a proper rhythm.
"Oh."
"What?"
Annis leans a little closer. "I'm three thousand years old and I'm seeing something for the first time."
I glance at Philippus. "I had, 'a man handling a heart delicately'. How about you?"
"'A man pumping… A woman.'"
I mock-frown as the woman's heart starts to beat properly on its own. "Captain, crude."
Philippus shrugs. "Amazon comedy is often bawdy. As well you know. Particularly where men's activities are concerned."
Annis frowns. "I was being serious. A wound like this has meant death for my entire life. And this blood magic… Would it work on the living?"
"That is not how we used it." Qualpopoca sounds uncertain. He's had hundreds of years and he hasn't tried studying magic? Or is it just that people in Mictlampa aren't considered suitable for that sort of knowledge? "You would need to ask a priest. It was never used on me when I was alive."
I take my hand out of her chest, pushing the flaps of flesh on either side closed. "Superboy?"
Kon looks a good deal more unsettled by open heart chirurgery than the rest of us, but he points the purple healing ray and knits the woman's chest back together. And once that's done, I fabricate her a t-shirt.
Philippus returns her attention to Qualpopoca. "What vulnerabilities does Tlazolteotl have?"
"She is a goddess. By the standards of mortals, she has none."
Kon shakes his head. "We're a bit more powerful than a normal mortal."
"And she is still a goddess. She can strike you down with disease before you can raise a hand to her." He thinks for a moment. "Perhaps… We fed our gods with the hearts of the living. But… The Mexica are no more. The gods have not been fed for a long time. If may be that they are weaker than they once were. At least where other realms are concerned."
"Like Olympus?"
"What is that?"
"The realm of the gods of Greece."
He nods. "Yes. Without blood, without hearts, they would be crippled if they tried to attack it."
"Okay, that's-."
"G-hhhhhhhhhhhr!"
The recumbent woman awakens, sitting up and gulping down air, right hand grasping for her chest. Feeling cloth, she shoved her hand under her t-shirt to check her wound.
Kon manoeuvres himself in front of her. "It's okay. You're okay. We got you a new heart-."
"Tlazolteotl! She made a pact with an evil priest, and they-! They are sacrificing the dead-."
"Legions of heartless dead enslaved to her will. We know. We're fought them and you were one of them. What else is she doing?"
"I saw little, but there were other hearts in her city! The living, the dead, strange creatures… Some of the hearts were giant, and I could feel the power radiating from them. And it has been some time since I have seen another god."
"Qualpopoca? Any other gods knocking around?"
"Yes, but… I admit, I have not seen any of them recently."
"Great. We'll need to scout this ourselves, then. Where does she live?"
18:05 GMT
I snatch my left hand back and cut the connection as the recumbent woman's chest cavity starts trying to drink down the orange light I'm trying to use to infuse her heart with purpose. It wasn't doing that before. Someone knows what I'm doing and is taking countermeasures.
I shake my head at Philippus. "That's me out of ideas, I'm afraid. A heart didn't work, the healing ray didn't work and any orange light I try using just gets absorbed."
Philippus frowns at Qualpopoca. "If we use the rites of your people, a few drops of blood is all that it takes?"
He nods. "Yes. We offer the hearts of sacrifices to the gods to sustain them, but it was also customary for every warrior to offer a few drops of their own blood as well."
The woman I took from Themyscira hasn't recovered, but Qualpopoca obviously knows more about
"Would she be restored when we defeat Tlazolteotl?"
"I do not know. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps her soul will be so damaged that it will simply fall apart without Tlazolteotl's magic."
"Do you know why Tlaltecuhtli was eating the heartless?"
"She was not eating them. She was taking them into the earth to be purified."
"Does that work? I thought that there was a whole process you had to go through to be reincarnated."
"If you want to be reborn as yourself, yes. I believe that Tlaltecuhtli seeks to preserve as much of their essence as she can, in their damaged state. Or perhaps she believes that removing Tlazolteotl's magic is sufficient. The dead are hard to completely kill." He sighs. "I cannot say for certain. I was a warrior, not a priest."
Philippus nods. "It would be better to make her whole. She may have useful information. I will-."
"No, Captain." One of the Heraklya -a woman named Annis- steps forward. "It would be better to use mine. If there is a trap within her, I am better able to resist."
Philippus glances at me for confirmation. "Demi-gods have an inherent resistance to being changed by external magic. I'm not sure that it would be enough to actually matter in this context, but she'd be more resilient that you would."
Qualpopoca stares at Annis. "Demi-goddess?"
"Zeus, deposed King of Olympus, is my grandfather."
She doesn't look at me when she says 'deposed', but I feel the look she doesn't give. Darn, he's still out on Earth somewhere, isn't he? He shouldn't be too great a security risk, but I… I didn't want him dead. Or driven mad.
"The gods of my people do not breed with mortals. If the Orange Lantern says that it will work, I have nothing to add."
Philippus waits a moment, then nods. Annis draws her sword, runs the edge against the meat of her thumb, and then drips a few drops of blood onto the woman's open heart. Then she wipes the residual blood off the blade, and the scab off her already-healed thumb. And in the meantime her blood drops just sort of sit on the exposed heart, doing nothing.
Qualpopoca shrugs. "Perhaps more blood is needed."
"More blood isn't always the answer. Sometimes it's better to-."
The heart fibrillates.
I reach in with my right hand and grasp it, forcing it to beat in a proper rhythm.
"Oh."
"What?"
Annis leans a little closer. "I'm three thousand years old and I'm seeing something for the first time."
I glance at Philippus. "I had, 'a man handling a heart delicately'. How about you?"
"'A man pumping… A woman.'"
I mock-frown as the woman's heart starts to beat properly on its own. "Captain, crude."
Philippus shrugs. "Amazon comedy is often bawdy. As well you know. Particularly where men's activities are concerned."
Annis frowns. "I was being serious. A wound like this has meant death for my entire life. And this blood magic… Would it work on the living?"
"That is not how we used it." Qualpopoca sounds uncertain. He's had hundreds of years and he hasn't tried studying magic? Or is it just that people in Mictlampa aren't considered suitable for that sort of knowledge? "You would need to ask a priest. It was never used on me when I was alive."
I take my hand out of her chest, pushing the flaps of flesh on either side closed. "Superboy?"
Kon looks a good deal more unsettled by open heart chirurgery than the rest of us, but he points the purple healing ray and knits the woman's chest back together. And once that's done, I fabricate her a t-shirt.
Philippus returns her attention to Qualpopoca. "What vulnerabilities does Tlazolteotl have?"
"She is a goddess. By the standards of mortals, she has none."
Kon shakes his head. "We're a bit more powerful than a normal mortal."
"And she is still a goddess. She can strike you down with disease before you can raise a hand to her." He thinks for a moment. "Perhaps… We fed our gods with the hearts of the living. But… The Mexica are no more. The gods have not been fed for a long time. If may be that they are weaker than they once were. At least where other realms are concerned."
"Like Olympus?"
"What is that?"
"The realm of the gods of Greece."
He nods. "Yes. Without blood, without hearts, they would be crippled if they tried to attack it."
"Okay, that's-."
"G-hhhhhhhhhhhr!"
The recumbent woman awakens, sitting up and gulping down air, right hand grasping for her chest. Feeling cloth, she shoved her hand under her t-shirt to check her wound.
Kon manoeuvres himself in front of her. "It's okay. You're okay. We got you a new heart-."
"Tlazolteotl! She made a pact with an evil priest, and they-! They are sacrificing the dead-."
"Legions of heartless dead enslaved to her will. We know. We're fought them and you were one of them. What else is she doing?"
"I saw little, but there were other hearts in her city! The living, the dead, strange creatures… Some of the hearts were giant, and I could feel the power radiating from them. And it has been some time since I have seen another god."
"Qualpopoca? Any other gods knocking around?"
"Yes, but… I admit, I have not seen any of them recently."
"Great. We'll need to scout this ourselves, then. Where does she live?"
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Mr Zoat
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Thank you, corrected.
NightmareWarden
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Which religion has giants? Norse, Old Testament…? Some equivalents of the American heartlands realm?
moralrelativity
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foes -> does
Ngamer11
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That should say 'does'.
After rereading, I found that you previously spelled these as 'Heraklya'.
Citizen
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"hand" I think.
Bloodalchemy
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I feel like I missed a chapter but checking the threadmarks I've read them all.
Lord Ernest
At the End...
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Actually, a lot. Giants are as common as dragons or dragon-like beings, so most myths have some race or individuals that match our conception of a Giant.
Duke Long
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Not sure how I'd fix it exactly, but this sentence is strange.
'than normal mortals.'? It could just be informal speech, though.
Vanbers
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Chojin Patriarch
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Well, that's just annoying. Got to hate when the enemy notices what you're doing and takes steps to counter you. It might be time to try something they wouldn't expect, then. But hopefully not too drastic.
I'll bet their fingers were quite scarred, then, assuming they cut a fingertip or the edge of the hand to shed it.
Well, someone's confident. Remember, she's probably mainlining the hearts of other gods...
Concerning. It's possible that by taking her to study, he condemned her to eventual dissolution?
...So, not quite 'throwing them up later', but still...
And if the earth goddess was just snarfing them down to remake them later... Keeping what they were wasn't a priority.
But if something goes wrong, you lose one of Themyscira's few Demi-gods.
And doesn't that say so much about Zeus by what they're not speaking? That he was bad enough to need to be deposed...
Gotta be honest, that's probably for the best they didn't woo mortals. Given some of the bizarre appearances of some of those deities...
Bet that's a useful benefit of her divine blood. A healing factor probably lets her push her strength training even further by recovering faster.
See, just took a second to soak in.
Gruesome, but probably necessary, since the woman's nervous system isn't up to the task of managing it just yet.
...I would think you've seen more than a few opened ribcages, if nothing else.
Ah, Amazon humour.
Seriously, these ladies are not delicate flowers of maidenhood. They're soldiers. And soldiers can be pretty low-brow when left to themselves.
There's probably an element of Mystery to the religious stuff. Rites and ritual initiations that he never went through in his mortal time.
Ah, right, her state of undress.
By the standards of your mortals, thank you.
Not if what Bast said applies here. 'Looking good' could easily also mean she's in a fighting fit state.
I mean, it's reasonable to expect that he's never heard of it, they were separated by thousands of kilometres of geography and several thousand years of history.
Though that's no reason to open it back up just yet.
Ah, back amongst the sort-of-living, I see.
...I'm not even going to point out the normally logical error involved, because this is a realm of the dead, and that's entirely feasible here.
Ah... And we know that other Mexica deities are quite large, given the earth goddess.
Yes, this doesn't bode well at all, no sir...
Surprised the undead lady is as rational as she seemed, but I suppose her mind was still in her body, just in a fugue state or something.
So when she sees people who aren't currently airing out their internal organs, of course she'd start babbling about what happened. Now, then.. What sort of mayhem are we about to see unleashed in the houses of the Gods. Because you know this will go from mere scouting to 'fight for your lives' in no time.
Vaermina
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Yes... I mean... He just knows pretty much every way in or out of the various Olympian holdings...
And i'm sure there's no way anybody could use a former king of the gods who once had a direct line to a titan for anything nefarious.
And of course there's absolutely no chance that he might possess some dangerous arcane knowledge or have some dangerous power squirreled away that others could use for evil.
Yea no. This is just another epic failure on your part. Because Zeus absolutely should have been a priority target for securing before you ran off to help fight The Reach. And it's even more blatant here because that would have taken you five fucking minutes to do.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
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As I mentioned before, Mictlampa is the realm of defeated warriors. You're not very likely to find a priest there, they tended to stay off the battlefield.