• Solo • Fading Away

[Tio Silver]

Almund
13th Zi'da, 718

He'd known this would be coming for a while now; ever since the end of Cassion's Gambit. Yet a little part of him had still hoped that it might never come.

Tio looked at the reflection of his back in the mirror, or more accurately the demon-wing tattoos upon it that served as his mark of Syroa. The black lines that symbolized the connection he had to his patron god were fading away, along with the last remnants of the Queen of Masks power residing inside of him. So too were the wing-like tattoes on his forearms that marked him as one of Delroth's. His bond with the Immortals had gone.

It wasn't a surprise this was happening. Tio had never been one for devotion in the first place, only offering just enough prayers or acts of faith to scrape by as a low-level follower when it suited him. However since he'd learned the truth during Cassion's game he'd stopped any sort of devotion all together. He no longer wanted the Immortal marks upon him; he never wanted to risk becoming the next meat-suit for one of the gods to jump into, no matter what powers they could offer him in return. Cassion's curse was something he would probably never be rid of, but it seemed like common sense that if he stopped offering his prayers to Syroa and Delroth then they would in turn remove their blessings from him.

The last of the lines across his skin faded, and just like that it was over. He was godless now; he had no divine allies who'd come to his aid if any if the ones he'd earned the ire of in his lifetime came after him. From here on out he'd have to rely on his own power, the strength of his skills and sparks, to get by.

So be it. His ambitions had already led him to strike out against an Immortal once, and he would no doubt have to do so again in his quest to become just like them: to live forever. But now he had a plan. Now he'd got the better of one before, he had a feeling he'd know how to do it again.

[Aegis]

Date

The Tio in the mirror watched the real Tio. He could see the decisiveness in his face, could see that the lad was not even slightly perturbed or upset or distraught at having lost the blessings of not one, but two, Immortals. One of which was himself. Delroth could not tolerate such... arrogance. Everyone should want to be marked by him, to be those of his flock. To think so little of him was beyond insulting.

Tio dared to defy the gods, yet again.

The Tio in the mirror drew a jeweled dagger. A masterpiece, truly beautiful, and brought it up to his own throat. "I should slit your throat and cast your soul away from Vri for this affront." Tio would find that only his mouth was able to move, and that his limbs were matching the movements of the Mirror Tio. The tip of the blade touched to Tio's throat, puncturing the skin. The real Tio's skin broke and bled alongside it, a message of the situation he was in.

"Oh behave darling."

A woman with the wings of a demonic bat, wearing a slinky dress, ears long and pointed, lips red and fangs pointed approached Tio from behind. She pressed her ample chest against his back, her hands slinking over his muscular chest, her chin resting on his shoulder. "He's but a babe my dear. And please, shed that ugly visage, it does not suit you at all." The Mirror Tio shifted like rippling water in the lake and now Delroth stood there.

"Mmm so much better..."

Syroa's taloned fingers trailed down Tio's stomach and into his trousers. The sharp points rested against his especially delicate flesh. "Let us have a talk, shall we?"

Delroth stepped out of the mirror, leaving it completely empty, even of Tio's normal reflection. His eyes were raging at the insult given to him, but he held some fondness for Syroa, in this current form at least. "Why do you forsake us, Tio Silver? Were we not good to you?"

!	Message from: Aegis
	Ill be modding this until I say otherwise

[Tio Silver]

A lance of panic shot through Tio's chest as his body began to move out of his control. One hand twisted up to his neck, an elegant dagger materializing from the thin air between his fingers to rest against his neck and draw the slightest sliver of false blood, while the rest of his limbs froze up and refused to move, as if encased in ice. What was going on? Who was controlling him, and how? Was it a ghost? A magician? The ghost of a magician? It would be a lot easier to tell if he was just able to take a look around the room, but not even his eyes would follow his commands and look away from his reflection.

A reflection which, to his shock, then spoke to him! In a rich baritone that was certainly not his own the image in the mirror talked of slitting his throat, and somewhere in the back of his brain Tio thought that the voice was somehow familiar. It was smooth like velvet, used with flawless diction, and with a dangerous edge to it that he had to admit was just a little bit sexy. It was the voice of-... oh fek. Delroth!

Before he could confirm his fears another voice sounded from behind him, and from the reflection in the mirror he could see Syroa pressing herself up against his back and resting her chin on his shoulder. By Faldrun's fiery balls this just kept getting worse! Both of his ex-patrons had shown up at once! A little part of him couldn't help but cockily point out that Immortals probably didn't show up in person to confront every low-ranked follower of theirs that decided to leave their service, meaning they must have been watching him with a bit more interest since Cassion's game. The rest of him though was scrambling around like the crew of a flaming ship, desperately trying to come up with a strategy for getting out of this alive. They may not be able to hear his thoughts, but it was pretty obvious that he was done serving them.

What sort of approach should he take here? The proud part of him wanted to stand defiantly against Delroth, confront him about how he'd treated him like trash all the way through Cassion's game with all the half-strangling and cursing, then left him with nothing but some slightly fancy tattoos and a ghost-pigeon as a payment. For a god of greed he certainly didn't seem to get how the idea of rewarding your followers worked. The realistic part of him was quick to reply that if he took that sort of attitude with a guy literally holding a knife to his neck he really would end up meeting Vri much sooner than he'd like. The manipulative part of him suggested they try appealing to Syroa somehow, make excuses and try to turn her and Delroth against each other. However the part of him that was ruled by his man-parts was quick to scream that they were currently being held hostage by Syroa's very sharp talons, and that for as deceptively calm as she was right now Syroa was the god of fury for a reason!

After a few trills of internal debate one part of him won out over the others, a part of him that really didn't show itself very often in his life: his truthful side. "Because... you terrify me. Both of you." He admitted slowly, pleased to find that his mouth at least was listening to him. "Syroa, when I believed our arrangement was a simple transaction of power for worship I was fine with it. It was a business deal, a contract, and that I could understand. But when I stabbed Cassion I saw what was inside him, who was inside of him." That woman. The one and only person he had ever killed. He'd never forget her face, it was inscribed across his mind like carvings on a stone. "She wasted her dying breath proclaiming her adoration for Cassion, and I realized that she was a follower of his. That Cassion used his supposed blessing to jump inside of her and ride her like a meat suit. You're cool Syroa, but that doesn't mean I'm comfortable taking even the slightest chance that one day my body wont be my own. I love who I am, and no matter much how I change myself I still want to remain as me, not turn into someone else. I can't follow an Immortal ever again."

[Aegis]

Date

At his response, Syroa clucked her tongue, "My my... so much fear in you. I believe you have vastly underestimated us, darling."

Delroth's scowl only intensified as Tio spoke to Syroa directly but not to him. A god of greed didn't take kindly to losing his toys, even by his own choice, nor did the god of vanity enjoy being snubbed for another. Despite the goddess of fury keeping a firm grip on Tio, it seemed that Delroth was the more wrathful of the two in the moment.

Syroa whispered into his ear, "You've broken our contract with your fear. You reek of it. So many mortals stink of fear. This is why you'll never be rid of us. Mortals are so.. weak."

Her nails lightly punctured the soft flesh and she chuckled as she toyed with him. "It seems you do not understand your role in this world. Let us... help you." Delroth stepped out of the mirror, placing a hand on Tio's chest. With that touch, Tio's illusion fell away, revealing his true, crystalline form, possibly for the first time in his life.

"You were beautiful Tio."

And for the briefest of moments, Delroth's cover of anger and rage cracked, showing the sadness and disappointment beneath. Syroa placed a kiss on the back of one of Tio's crystals, and ignited the transformation the Immortals wished upon him. The crystals that made Tio a Yludih, that made all Yludih one of their kind shattered, exploding into a kaleidoscopic cloud of dust. Tio would find a pain unlike any other running through his mind and yet discover that he was not dead, nor even injured. The two immortals ran their hands through the cloud of dust and began forming a new body.

Or rather, an old one.

Soon after Tio was back between the two of them, not as a Yludih, but a human. His human visage he always wore. Syroa whispered in his ear once more, "You're done when we say you're done." A second kiss, now on the back of his neck, and Tio would inherently know that she'd just made him completely impotent. A third kiss caused the bones in his face to shift and knit and break painfully. Bone protruded out from his skin, forming a permanent mask that was both covering and a part of his face.

Delroth turned, walking back into the mirror, disappearing, leaving behind no reflection of Tio. Syroa whispered one final time in his ear, "One arc. Kill the real Cassion, and you will be allowed to live your life free from us. Fail..." There was simply a fading chuckle as she disappeared completely leaving Tio there alone once more.

Tio would find that he maintained no reflection in any surface. The mask he wore was not removable without killing him, and the mask twisted itself into true showings of the most dominant emotion he felt within at any given time. And any use of his spark to speak to the winds would find it to be a great struggle. The winds were torn, caught between the power Delroth bore over them and the power that Tio's spark gave him, and as such, all interactions with the natural force would come with conflict. Tio was alone, just as he wanted.

And he was human.

!	Message from: Aegis
	One more from you should do it. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me on site or DM on discord.

[Tio Silver]

As Delroth's hand touched his chest a bizarre sensation washed across Tio's skin, like a curtain that had been draped across his body had been suddenly pulled back for the very first time. It was a suitable feeling, for in a sense that was exactly what happened. A gasp caught in his throat as Tio took in the sight of himself, his real self, for the very first time! How many times had he looked in the mirror since he'd learned of his true heritage and felt trapped beneath the fake reflection he saw in it? How many times had he yearned to know what his real face looked like? Now he could see it, staring back at him in the mirror. It was made of smooth, silver tinted crystals flecked with sparks of jade, and was framed in an almost teardrop-like shape. A pool of different emotions welled up in his stomach, and for a moment Tio thought he might be about to cry. Delroth was right, he was utterly beautiful.

It didn't last long.

One kiss from Syroa, and every particle of Tio's body shattered into a kaleidoscopic cloud of matter. At yet he did not die, nor even loose consciousness. Although his senses disappeared, plunging him into a world of silence and darkness, Tio still felt every last shred of agony as the transformation process overtook him. This was on a level above the cosmetic illusions of his natural ability, or even the temporary transformations Syroa's mark had once granted him. This was the true essence of transformation at its rawest, the breaking down of every fiber of his being to its base level and then reconstructing entirely anew, and it hurt like nothing Tio had ever known before. It was a pain that etched itself deep into his memory, into his very soul, and refused to leave. He would never forget this torment, not for as long as he lived.

After who knew how long the pain subsided, and light and sound returned to the world as his senses were recreated. The face that stared back at him in the mirror was his old one, yet even as he stared at it Tio knew that it was not the same illusion he'd used to know. He could feel liquid pulsing through his veins, feel the air in his chest as his lungs pumped it in and out. He'd briefly felt this way once before, when he'd temporarily swapped races with Kura inside that dream maze. He was made of flesh, of blood, of bone.

He was human.

What was he supposed to make of this? It was true that a large part of him had wanted to be human for a long time, but to have it happen like this felt wrong, unnatural. He needed time to process this, but it seemed that the Immortals weren't done with him yet. Yet more pain arrived, this time across his face, as bone grew out from it and spread across his face to form the mask. This time though he didn't even have the benefit of seeing what it looked like, as his reflection had disappeared from the mirror.

He fell to his knees as the Immortals gave him their parting words and vanished, leaving him alone. Fatigue crashed into him like a freight train as the toll of being entirely rebuilt sank it, and the edges of his vision began to crawl with darkness as unconsciousness started to envelop him.

"Well shi..." He mumbled out as his mind gave it, and collapsed into a nightmare-filled sleep.

[Aegis]

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Thread Review

This was a fun little modbomb to show that Immortals don't take even their laziest, most uncaring followers lightly Hope you enjoy the consequences and have a great story moving forward.

Tio Silver

• Skill Points - 15
• Renown - 5 (Immortals talk)
• Skill Knowledges
  1. Discipline: Not cowering before an angry Immortal
  2. Discipline: Not cowering before two angry Immortals
  3. Discipline: How to receive multiple curses without crying
  4. Endurance: A dagger to the throat
  5. Endurance: Talons to the private parts
  6. Endurance: Enduring complete bodily reconstruction
  7. Endurance: Having a bone mask grow out your face
  8. Philosophy: Serving an Immortal is terrible
• Non-Skill Knowledges
• Items and Other Rewards
  1. Human - Tio was deconstructed and remade into his favored form as a human. (Secret info added to PNs)
  2. Made impotent - Tio can no longer have lead in his pencil. This is a divine curse, not a biological flaw, so cannot be cured purely by medical means.
  3. Bone Mask - The mask that grew from his face is not removable without killing him, and the mask twists itself into true showings of the most dominant emotion he felt within at any given time.
  4. Too Ugly for a Mirror - No reflective surface will show Tio's visage.
  5. Grumpy Winds - Any use of his spark to speak to the winds would find it to be a great struggle. The winds were torn, caught between the power Delroth bore over them and the power that Tio's spark gave him, and as such, all interactions with the natural force would come with conflict.
  6. Save the Date - Tio has been tasked with killing Cassion by Zi'da 13, 719. Or else.

Player 2

• Skill Points -
• Renown -
• Skill Knowledges
• Non-Skill Knowledges
• Items and Other Rewards

Final Notes

If you have any questions, please PM me. Also please add the provided stamp to your review request found here and please update your CS with all of this information.

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