The Intruding Butterfly (Closed, intro thing)

[Schrodinger's Nirvana]

It was Pombinger’s lucky day, or so he thought. The small-time thief had woken early to try and make the best of the day to actually find someone this time he could rough up and steal gold from. It was hard when you were a small-time dealer, with nobody to back you up when some idiot put up a fight. Of course, with him, any kind of fight would be enough, he was bone-thin, reeking slightly of alcohol and body odor and followed by a contingent of lice and flies so common with those that slept anywhere and any how. Pombinger's only gift was his tenacity to live on even when life had kicked him over and over again, and that gift was applied liberally to the world in general and anyone he might come across.

So here he was, in a convenient dark alleyway just behind Blorgsson's Rat Deli, getting high off the smell of deep-fried rat nuggets and potato shavings, having stalked his latest hit for the last hour or so (and seen the gold! The gold! And nobody else had tried anything!) and a woman appeared at his side. Stark naked. Not a stitch.

His jaw dropped into a crude grin; because the local molls wouldn't even let him have a peek, even if he actually had money or booze in which to bribe them with; arrogant bitches that they were. Of course, his appearance and smell didn't help, Pombinger’s skin was flaky, the remnants of a curse from a job gone horribly wrong, crawling with things that made him even itchier (but were at least tasty if they hatched out and he caught them in time). No, a moll wouldn't flash herself at him for a cheap thrill, not for anything. The big guys'd chase him away.

And here was a naked woman looking very worried, flustered and flat against the wall. Scared. Just like he liked them. This was his lucky day. The gods were smiling on him to be sure.

But Pombinger’s survival instinct still remained, and it screamed that he should follow the merchant and take everything he owned; because the body couldn’t go for too much longer without food. Of course gin was cheap, but gin also rotted your teeth and your vitals, like. And Pombinger’s higher survival skills weren’t sure if he had much left to…you know, survive with.

Still. Libido won out. It was a deranged, twisted thing, but there it was, giggling like a child and pointing, talking dirty and hot wiring his brain to ignore the rest of his brain throwing out warnings of how this wasn't normal.

“’Ello luv.” He drawled, putting away the dagger in his hand. Didn’t want her to take fright now…that'd come later...

“Oh for the love of me.” The woman muttered, coming out of her trance. Her plump face was marred by a look of disgust. “What hole did you crawl from, toad?”

This wasn’t on. Frowning, he decided that putting the knife away was a stupid idea and pulled it out for the world to see. “Oi.”

“Where am I?” She demanded. Her voice was unusual; probably from the upperclasses. The wife of a nobleman frittered away on gambling perhaps? “Look at me and answer, peon.”

Pombinger stopped. “E’what?”

“Never mind. Is there any where in this place where I might get some answers to…” Her voice trailed off. “Oh me, no. I’m naked.”

“Took yer long enough.”

“Shut up.”

He jerked forward, long spindly fingers wrapping around her wrist and holding her tight. “Don’t tell old Pom what to do, yer not the one with the knife here…”

"Unhand me." Her mouth was pulled into an ugly sneer, and for a moment, Pombinger thought he saw fangs. Not unusual, vampires were fairly normal. He just smiled and squeezed tighter. "Regardless of current events, I am advising you to take your hand off me now."

"Why?"

"Because I am not a nice person."

"Think I care?"

“No. But you should.” Her free hand came up, holding a queer lantern. "And wasting this on you hardly seems worth it. Have a nice reincarnation.” She said tiredly.

There was a brilliant white light and the shade of Pombinger faded, wandering briefly what in hell had just happened. He wouldn’t receive an answer either.

The magic - or at least what was left of it - was sucked back into the protective shell, and sighing, the woman straightened. The brief spatter of energy had marked her too; becoming a simple dress to mask her nakedness, but now she looked worn and tired. Picking up the lantern she walked out into the bright street and looked around the people going about their lives as if nothing happened.

It was a lucky day. Just not for some.

A hand ruffled long dark hair. "...Where am I?"

[Schrodinger's Nirvana]

This was not what she had been expecting. The rolling streets, quaint little…hovels was the only name that spread to mind, but she could cope with that…the mortals wandering around her, Nirvana was not at all sure quite what had happened in the second between having a screaming fit at her most hated of companions and slamming of the door to her quarters in the World Above.

It was not the most dignified thing to do, but there were times to slam doors and times to be mature. This was definitely a day to stamp one’s foot and chuck a proverbial tanty.

Leaning against the wall she didn’t make much of an impression, which was perfect as far as she was concerned. This wasn’t her dear little backwards planet of people who were struggling so finely; hell, with the last echoes of power she could tell this world was at least three times as large, and whatever deities that existed here had missed her little show with the thief, but that was possibly due to pity more than anything else. Nothing was quite as embarrassing as a fallen God, and the last remains of Nirvana’s power, that which kept her from fading to being a mere footnote on the pages of a text-book hung at her waist, perilously low in the strength department.

Reaching down, she wound her fingers around the warm lantern’s lid, and bit her lip. The shape was comforting at least, a castle to protect what could be passed for as her soul in this curious world that lacked the technology of her own but boasted much, much more.

Serenity must have been in my personal quarters while I was WorldWalking. She put it right in front of my bloody door. My door! To my place! She broke a serious rule there, if I were still in power…

But the childish voice of supremacy was drowned out by something she hadn’t actually felt before in her vast memory. Of course, when any divine being was formed there was fear; fear that they couldn’t attract enough minds to feed them and help them grow, but you were formless then; with barely a mind of your own. It was not something you really remembered….it just…happened. The fact that Order had broken the rules for once in her stupid life was one of the most terrifying things Nirvana had ever experienced, even more so than the time when a vast number of followers were almost wiped out by that plague a couple of hundred years back. She’d almost died if it hadn’t been for the outlaying regions, but that was how good she was – for a Goddess of Chaos and Destruction, she was very organised. But…

Breaking into a fellow divinity’s room? Casting such a spell to remove said Higher Being from the overall picture of the world’s spiritual health? What was Serenity thinking?

My powers will return soon. This is not my world; I have another world, a ways out there. It’ll just take some time, that’s all. The internal voice was confident, but her throat felt tight. There were no familiar faces here to latch onto, walk awhile and feel the presence of a mortal mind, so strong and supple against her own, an anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

Peeling herself away, she daintily stepped around the detritus on the street; holding up her skirts and wishing her default appearance did not have cute little slide on shoes – they were not becoming for the one being that had held an entire planet in it’s thrall for years with constant carnage.

Not constant. Things were getting boring. I had to do something seeing as they were getting smart about the weather.

Her gut lurched at this thought, an odd feeling seeing as she’d never had one before. Weather. Narrowly missing a cart, she ducked into a stall and stared dully at the items on show as the shopkeeper haggled with a tall, dark buyer. Of course there were power plays in the World Above; there always had been. Crimson eyes darted back and forth over the unfamiliar fruits and vegetables; was there any way for her to contact those she could trust?

Or was it them? Is it possible I had stepped on toes and not known about it? But surely they would have told me. Surely!

A hand snapped her out of her trance, and jerking up she stared at the face of the seller and recoiled. His language was not her own, and she stepped back quickly, almost overturning one of the displays, picked up her skirts and ran.

There was only one being she knew she could rely on. No, perhaps two, but the only one powerful enough to reach her…wherever she was…

Ducking past people, Nirvana felt sick, nervous and like her whole body was trembling, growing fainter by the moment. Cut off from her followers, from her world, from her people and the place she inhabited…

This is a nightmare. Such a tiny, tiny, internal voice.

The cobblestones flew beneath her, the sense of weight so wrong and different. Her lungs (Lungs! So this was how they felt!) were almost full to bursting with the short breathes that sped her along, eyes wide and hair like a black banner – she was the image of a distressed woman, that was possibly even mad too.

Maybe she was. A human woman thinking she was a goddess.

Was being the key-word.

But chaos is about survival, and in that mad run the new part of her – the big fat lump of gristle we call a brain, and that Nirvana just called annoying – was taking in the town as she moved, and taking in the places, the people, the windows…

Eventually she would stop running, and eventually she would walk up to a tavern that had the small sign in the window. For all her power, her arrogance and her grace, Nirvana had lived so many years that she understood there were times to put things away. She could always complain – what mattered now was to stop her stomach from revolting and get some gold pieces in order to work with, as they seemed to be the currency. Pride just tasted awful when you ate it, and humble pie wasn’t that good either…but it was something. And something was better than nothing, right?

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another staff member and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.