text | un: goodvibes

[aurable]

Hey, Drift here.

Brevity is the soul of wit and getting us the hell out of here, so I'll try to keep this to the point.

I've managed to speak to Remi, and now that I'm awake, I've been putting together what we already know. This deal with the orb, this 'phyllie' went awry, and now Remi has been feeding it immense arcane energy to keep up his end of the bargain. We all got a pretty good idea by now of how that's going.

I offered a possible solution, and it involves getting past that Sphynx and finding his body. The idea of offering something on our end to counteract the curse has been thrown around, and while Remi wasn't convinced it would work, he has expressed a willingness to try.

If you've seen me around, you've likely seen the greatsword strapped to my back. It's an artifact from Cybertron that siphons energy from my spark- the very essence of my life. Arguably you could call it my soul, but I doubt we want to waste time on a philosophical debate. My point is that energy can be channeled and redirected.

We juice Phyillie with pure, living energy and cross our fingers.

If that doesn't work, now would be an excellent time to develop plans B and C.

And

Remi gave me a parting gift that will help.

( ooc: please feel free to thread hop! )

Comments

[peasant]

oh

[ oops. equally oops — the overstepping into personal territory. doubly so, when she tries to consider the mechanics of a cybertronian birth. hm. at least she has the decency not to question that. ]

my world treats people who are different the same way
what happened after that? border wars?

[aurable]

[ yeah, oh but fortunately for Alina was Drift knew the difference between curiosity and ignorance. He was just glad she had asked him and not Megatron, the old firebrand. Poor girl didn't need a manifesto texted to her. ]

We had a rigid caste system as far back as I could remember. Inflexible, entirely dependent on what you could do.
Border wars are where it started after the ruling senate had been destroyed and its leaders assassinated en masse—I had a part in that. They were cruel, and it's one of the few things I don't regret in the war.
Then it expanded beyond territorial disputes between the factions that arose from the anarchy and neither side comes out the winner. It ended, but the victory was pyrrhic. I think once the dust settled 90% of our race was gone.
That is the most abbreviated and sterile summation of a war that lasts millions of years.

[peasant]

[ well, she's stuck her foot in it now. good job, alina, bringing that up. only be some stroke of fortune does the network avoid spilling those apologetic, self-deprecating thoughts into the ether. ]

that's horrible. i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have asked.
how can one war last millions of years? are you all really so stubborn?

[ it's alarming — to think that might be the bleak future that awaits her, in ravka — the endless landscape of war at the ravkan border, eternal persecution of grisha until everyone has nearly wiped themselves into extinction. cybertronians, as it turns out, don't sound any less stubborn or cruel than humanity itself.

she chews on her lip, hesitating, before her flicker of hope prompts her to ask: ]

at least tell me your world found some kind of peace after all of that