2014.03.15 - No One Likes Reunions

The Sanctum Sanctorum is the home of a goddess.
It is said to span an entire planet, but it is not a single building. The world that is home to the Holy of Holies retains much of its life: enormous 'gardens' that cover nations, oceans left wild, and animals running free. Even if the massive, iridescent buildings are tastefully integrated into the planet, everything here is a part of the Sanctorum itself.
It all speaks to her. The animals, the trees, the wind. They obey their queen, like everything else in this timeline-reality. This isn't the only one, either. That's the problem.
There are weaknesses. Things that exist in one time cannot challenge someone who views and manipulates the world on a higher level. They're humans swimming with sharks. Unadapted.
The errant time signature is nearly scrubbed clean. If the time master didn't already know what he was looking for, wasn't aware of the queen's capabilities, it would be invisible. As it stands, there's a near one hundred percent chance that what he's looking for is in a massive aquamarine structure of domed roofs and swooping ledges.
It is set upon a floating island, overgrown with plant life that has covered even the sloping bottom. The sea below it is choppy and fierce, and huge scaly heads on thick necks breech to tear at each other and sink beneath the waves again. Brightly-colored, glittering birds wheel down from the island above to snatch up errant pieces of flesh torn from the monstrous migration or mating season or whatever kind of ecology flourishes on this world.
Paring down the possibilities until what is left must be a certainty is not enough to solve the problem. The time master takes something from an inner pocket of his jacket, a blue device a bit smaller and flatter than a chicken egg. When his fingers uncurl, it floats freely and darts off. An object that small is likely to evade detection for far longer; he has never been good at stealth, although he has gotten much better at it over the years.
As the tiny scanner combs the area for those specific chronotons, he hooks something behind his ear and a faint holo-band appears over his eyes, allowing him to see the data sent his way. Only when he becomes sure does he float into the air, and fly at the building. Using brute force to smash through a wall is undesirable, but if there is no better way in, so be it.
The tiny device zooms off unhindered. The buildings on Sanctum Sanctorum favor open construction, so there are no immediate doors or windows to obstruct its path. There are likely spells, far more spells than the time master could detect, but you don't have to know how something works to break it. The warding technology still works, which means that the queen has either been slow in updating her defenses from their last encounter, or she has not divined a way to stop it.
She is very thorough, to a fault. Must be option two. There's one problem gone, at least.
The entire building shudders when the time master crashes through one of the thick outer walls. It's not structural damage. It's more a vibration that travels through the crystal, making an eerie, keening wail through the interior hallways.
There's no maps or signs, even if everything appears to be laid out very neatly. The time master is not left on his own for long, however. The device sends back its findings: a map of the building, including a large ominous unexplored area where the chronal signature is likely emanating from.
It's empty. Multiple timeline-dimensions full of people in her service, and some who literally worship her, and this prison is empty.
This is really not what he wanted to find; nothingness is worrisome. Guards are welcome because they are rarely much of a problem, but emptiness makes him wary. Rather than setting foot on the crystaline ground, he drifts along while following the signal, seeing the map ahead of him courtesy of his holo-HUD.
As he flies towards the source he brings up one hand and flexes it as if to loosen up the joints. A pale blue energy briefly crawls over his fingers, and then soaks back into his body. The light flickers and glows in his eyes for a moment, behind his holographic visor. There is the feel of a trap in place, but that has never deterred him before. If anything, it tends to mean one is on the right track.
The building is more clever than it seems. Even as the time master steals deeper into the structure, the crashing of the ocean and the call of birds are just around the corner. A trick of the acoustics rather than spells, probably. Nature is its own kind of magic.
The blank on the map is a set of doors. This is excellent news. A door means that there is something that requires isolation. It's a very large something, perhaps, because the doors are enormous: two thirty foot tall chunks of dark, petrified wood. The closest thing to a door handle is the mark of a butterfly, faintly glowing and set about chest-level from someone standing on the ground.
This does belong to the queen, then. However unguarded this place is otherwise, the butterfly mark is a strong indicator that anyone attempting to get through will suffer any number of inventive fates. Being banished to the chaos dimension was a comparatively gentle punishment compared to the things that more important seals could inflict.
The time master tilts his head back, and the small scanning probe flies to his side, hovering and waiting. He surveys the huge doors, looking them up and down, before taking a few steps back. The queen creates enchantments that can stand the test of time; this is certainly true, and in normal circumstances the seals and wards would last forever.
Floating into the air, a translucent golden bubble surrounds the man, and then he extends his hands towards the doors. They waver as if they were being viewed through disturbed water, some type of energy surrounding them. Initially colorless, the energy takes on a red tint which rapidly becomes blue. Nothing seems to be happening to the doors while the rush of chronotons washes over them. Everything is ultimately finite, however, and as the time master surges more concentrated temporal energy through the barriers than would exist in the normal lifespan of a universe, the seals begin to fade and crumble.
Once time begins its ravaging effects, the decay is rapid. The spells wither and the doors themselves crumble, and then become dust, and then the dust is little more than energy diffusing away.
It is a very silent destruction. The doors are dismantled into something beyond dust before they have a chance to crumble to the floor. The queen's enchantments cannot exist beyond time, and so the way is clear.
The room beyond is in the center of the building, and as such the rounded architecture converges to create a domed circle. The walls are not the usual glittering aquamarine. They're black, but only because they display a starry night sky. The pinpoints of light twinkle and shine, and speeding comets are common.
There, in the middle, is an enormous purple gem. It is not hollow, the time master knows from experience, but there is a person suspended inside it all the same.
There he is. The man out of time. The first act of aggression against another dimension.
With a slow shake of his head, the time master holds his hand out and the small floating scanner falls onto his palm. He puts it into his jacket pocket. Walking up to the beautiful prison, he rests his hands on his hips and looks up at it, at the figure entombed within it, his expression betraying some sadness.
Pulling that time trick with the doors was one thing; doing it with this gem would kill the prisoner, and that is not what he wants to do. That would be the LAST thing he would want to do. Similarly, brute force is not helpful here. The only real option is to steal it, and bring it to someone, somewhen, who can unmake this gem. Fortunately, the time master -does- have experience with thievery. He reaches out to touch the purple crystal.
The birdsong grows louder, suddenly close. They're in the room, flitting about under the artificial sky and landing atop the crystal. They came with her.
"Every time I think I've stopped this, you figure something else out."
The queen stands where her ruined doors once did, hands on her hips. Her golden hair and the loose details of her purple dress float in an ethereal breeze. Along with the birds, she is followed by butterflies and a curious wolf the size of a horse.
"It's starting to get funny. I mean, you're still really pissing me off, but I'm also at a point where I can laugh about it."
She doesn't. To her credit, neither does she raise her hands. That's not required for her magic anymore, but it always helps. Instead, she inclines her head slightly, letting the shadows emphasize her frown.
"Let's run through this again. I know what I'm doing. If you try to stop me, I'll erase you. If you go to Saturnyne, I'll stalemate her, or at least make victory so painful that she'll settle for containing me. You know I can do it."
Removing his hand from the purple gem, the time master looks up and gives the queen a little smile. "I know you can do it, yes. Here's the thing, your Majesty." He floats a few feet into the air. "When you mess with other timelines, they can collapse entirely. Or merge into this one. I know that you know this, because you keep at it." He casually slips his hands into his jacket pockets. 
"Saturnyne doesn't like anything or anyone who endangers multiversal reality, and if you keep this up, she's going to want your universe obliterated." He arches one eyebrow and tilts his head. "Be satisfied with what you already have. At least let this timeline," he nods at the purple gem prison, to indicate what he is speaking about, "Run its own course. It might merge on its own, and if it does, that's okay. Just stop meddling."
The wolf pads in a circle and lays down, watching the time master from the floor. A bird alights on the queen's shoulder and ruffles its neon feathers. She continues to look severely annoyed.
"What about you? Haven't been doing any meddling yourself, have you? That'd be against the rules."
The queen walks into the room on bare feet, stopping just short of becoming threatening. She is closer to the gem, but not close enough that the time master can't react if she attacks.
"Saturnyne's doing her best to keep a broken system cobbled together. You're working on some blind faith that just letting things happen is the best way to go, even if you're willing to intervene when it suits you. Can't you see why I'm not going to stop?"
The queen's expression softens. Her shining purple eyes catch a comet's light as she looks from the prison, to the time master.
"Booster, get out of here. I'm not going to hold back this time. Get out of here before something ugly happens. Please."
"I meddled when I was new at this," Booster admits, letting his hands slip out of his jacket pockets, just to show that he is not trying to draw out a weapon or gadget. His hands are empty. "At this point, not so much. I have my hands full fixing things, and yes... sometimes errant branches need to be pruned. But you -do not- do this to a viable timeline. Even if the events are ones you don't like."
Gesturing at the amethyst prison, the time master says, "I'm going to fix this situation. Yes, that is a chaotic timeline and I know you find that grating, but it's stable. This is my job, Queen Amaya. Let me get on with it." He reaches for the oversized gem once again, and the queen knows he has the ability to pull things with him when he transverses space and time.
The queen turns her head. "I liked it better when you called me Amy."
The curtain of night on the walls collapses. They burst into golds and reds, radiating from an unbearably bright disk of light directly above the crystal. The birds shriek and flee for the door, only to strike some invisible force. They scrabble uselessly against it, while outside in the hall the wolf is unnaturally motionless.
There is no time. There is no space. That's not possible. This is a trick of some sort, and a few moments of study will find a way through it. It's a few moments for a goddess to do as she pleases.
Amethyst is fast, faster than she ever was, her hands lashing out with fingers arched just so.
There are downsides to generating chronal energy, but one of the real perks is a partial immunity to time manipulation. When Amethyst's magic starts to sever Booster's anchors in time, trying to erase him from existence, it is like trying to capture a buttered eel. It is frustrating, futile, and ultimately even a little fun for the eel.
Bringing up one arm, palm facing towards Amethyst, Booster looks as if he is going to attack. Instead, there is a brutal moment when time utterly stops, while mental duration continues. This strange, squeezed moment is over in a fraction of a heartbeat, and if he was launching an attack at the queen, it never lands. Perhaps her personal wards and spells were too much for him to deal with--he is not a magician, after all.
The time master does not even have a chance to lower his arm before the crystalline prison begins to imprison him. Even his expression remains in that quirked, kind of annoying grin as he stares at the queen.
The sky breaks again, into darkness. The birds escape into the hall. The wolf perks its ears, trying to place how this sudden change occurred. Amethyst lowers her hands.
She creeps forward, walking a wide berth around the time master's crystal prison, shortening the distance with each change of direction. She has time. She'll make sure this is exactly what she thinks it is.
He is trapped. Alive and still a threat, but trapped. It works. That chronal energy--it goes nowhere. Amethyst crosses her arms. It's not like him to panic. He would have done something with his one counterstrike. She had expected to feel pain today.
Maybe she over-prepared. Maybe her memories of him afforded more credit than the time master currently deserved. It's possible. She was human, once. That part lives.
Amethyst presses her palm against the gem, leaning forward to inspect the prisoner. "Too smug, Booster," she murmurs. "Just a little too smug."
She turns away. With a rustle of silk, the queen disappears from the room to properly lock up the island.
Category:Log