Interactive 1

### Summary:

Interactive 1 takes place in the civilization of Oquibia, Universe #1, some time after the Tyrant and the Immolated were pulled through the rift formed by STMD machine.

We see Moiray in a middle of self-defense training with Isis, her guardian, foster parent, and a friend to her mother. Isis is concerned about lowbloods trying to overthrow young heir to the throne and return to the ways of Wrumore.

Despite not having any friends due to Isis restricting Moiray, she grew up feeling responsible for the well-being of all of her citizens, lowblood and highblood alike. She is happy to see highbloods being optimistic about the future, and seeing the chaos of social war affecting the lowbloods hurts her.

## Transcript

**[START INTERACTIVE]**

Your fingers twitch against her fingers as you press upwards with all of the strength that you have. It's not enough - she holds you there, pinned, with a knee on your throat.

> *Who are you? Who's this other person? Are you going to die?*
>
>

Your name is Moiray, and you're definitely not going to- "Push harder, Moiray," she says, interrupting your thoughts as she digs her knee further into your neck. You cough as you suddenly find yourself unable to breathe.

> *Try and throw her off you with all your might!! I believe in you!!*
>
>

You're not sure where this burst of optimism came from, but you grit your teeth and give it all you've got. Your hand budges hers upwards, and you twist your foot under you, pivoting your leg up under her and dislodging her. She tumbles to the side and you roll the both of you over, quickly pressing an elbow to her neck. She smiles. "Well done," she says simply, no longer fighting. Her eyes study you closely. "We need to work on your hesitation, but aside from that, your training is going quite nicely." You breathe a sigh of relief and climb off of her, brushing yourself off. You've never been a fan of this kind of training.

> *Are you two dating or something?*
>
>

What? Dating *her?* Hell no, she was friends with your mom. Or so you've been told.

> *What her name, is she some kind of trained fighter?*
>
>

You call her Isis. She doesn't like it when people use her full name. She's not a trained fighter, no, but she has plenty of experience.

> *why are you training?*
>
>

It's self defense training, in case any straggler lowbloods decide to take an attempt at your life. You personally think it's a little excessive, but you understand why Isis is so paranoid. You weren't exactly there for the action, after all.

> *do you like liquorice? you should eat some liquorice.*
>
>

You frown. Liquorice? The fuck is that? It sounds like a made-up word.

> *lowbloods? why would they want to make an attempt on your life?*
>
>

They might want to seize the throne back while it's in the hands of someone young and weak with a government in disarray. That's what Isis and the council tell you, at least.

> *Don't you think that the aggressive behavior of the lowbloods is entirely determined by the frustrations caused by the ignorance of highbloods and their unwillingness to change the system that actively hurts the mass, and that the best way to defend against the lowblood aggression and potential uprising is to improve the welfare and fix the underlying inequalities, something that should be perfectly in your hands to try and work on*
>
>

Are you fucking joking? Is this some sort of... you shake your head, smiling grimly. Your sense of humor needs some work, you think, if this is what your brain can come up with. Lowbloods? Oppressed by highbloods? The only thing keeping you from laughing is the feeling of Isis's eyes locked on you.

> *lmao fuck lowbloods amiright*
>
>

Isis must be getting to you. You don't like having these thoughts about people, especially not your citizens. You remind yourself that all of the young lowbloods out there have no idea what just happened.

> *whats your blood color?*
>
>

As fuchsia as they come. Just like your mom.

> *how do you feel about the people you rule? do you think youre a fair ruler?*
>
>

Man, you don't know. You haven't exactly done a lot by yourself with Isis breathing down your neck. You feel conflicted, to put it lightly, about your citizens, and with how your new society is shaping up to be. On one hand, seeing all of the highbloods look so happy and passionate about the future is a great thing, but seeing the social war being waged everywhere you go hurts you. Isis tells you it's because you weren't there for the times before the usurp. You don't feel so sure.

> *whats ur mum like. jk i already know ;)))))*
>
>

Well yeah, no shit, it seems like EVERYONE knows what she was like. Except for you, that is.

> *what are your pronouns*
>
>

She/her.

> *so is isis trying to... what, rule through you? use you as a figurehead?*
>
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No, no, you know it's a lot more than that. She really does love you, that's obvious. This all just comes from a place of concern, you figure, as well as the deep seated anger at the world she has within her. This is probably her way of trying to protect you from it.

> *do you have a moirayl? or moibe a kismoisis? or any raymointic quadrants?*
>
>

No fish-adjacent quadrants, no. No quadrants at all, actually. Or friends at all. Isis doesn't like it when people try to get close to you.

> what was your moms name?
>
>

She's been called a lot of different names. The Guiding Hand, The Immolated, The Coruscated. And, of course, her actual name. You always thought it was especially pretty. It- "You've been staring into space for eons, Moiray," Isis chides you. Her voice has always been especially piercing. You turn your head to look at her. She's standing there, arms crossed. "What's on your mind?"

"Mom," you answer honestly. Lying to Isis is never a good idea. Her face doesn't change, but her posture softens only slightly. She puts a hand on your hair, running her fingers through it. "You look just like her," she states matter-of-factly. You suppress a sigh. Everyone tells you that, too.

> how old are you, how long ago did she die?
>
>

You are just about 7 sweeps old. And your mom didn't exactly... die, although she might as well have.

> then what happened to her ??
>
>

She disappeared. Most people think she's dead, and a few believe she was made to be one of the stars in the sky that burns red. You, though, know better. Isis would tell you about it when you were young, late at night. She said she was there when it happened, and she watched as the Tyrant seized her and pulled her though the hole in the sky. Her face always turned sheet white, and her hands would grip you so tightly you thought it was going to leave a bruise. Sometimes it did.

> bro. bro ur on the cusp of a coming-of-age adventure. where is your party of zany characters are you new to this or something?? jfc
>
>

That's definitely one way to put it. There's only you and Isis, though. You don't even have a lusus.

> so are you any good at fighting yet
>
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Yeah. You've gotten pretty good at it over the years, you just don't like to do it.

**[END INTERACTIVE]**