i jumped across for you, oh what a thing to do

WESSEX

Back to where it all began; the root of their problems, some might say, with blame flying from both sides in heavy, vicious amounts. Wessex pauses to touch the place where the the Ascended opened the door, giving a silent though to Aedion, Kristopher, and 108 before moving silently into the black obelisk. Her eyes seamlessly adjust to the darkness inside and confirms what the rumors have said: The Spire has since been hollowed out, or spliced in two. Whether or not Safrin herself plummeted through the tower and into the basement to do… something… doesn’t interest her. The basement is not for her tonight.

Up the stairs she goes, silent and quick, hugging close to the wall to avoid falling in to the rubble way down at the bottom. Up to the top, where her Lady was imprisoned for far too long. When she reaches the open platform, the night is strangely calm. A light breeze blows, making it a little chilly for regular people but the air down on the ground is still and cool. Wessex stops and looks  around, remembering where 108 stood where she was friend, how their Lady hung from the ceiling, and the crowd of hypocrites.

The blonde Queen shakes her head as she moves to the edge, crouching down and then scooting forward enough to dangle her bare feet over the edge. Leaning back to lay down and look at the stars, she folds her hands over her stomach and just stares up into the cosmos. A million and one things flit through her ever-active mind: a hundred things to be done, a thousand people to be proven wrong, a trial to win, a world to explore, and an extended lifetime to live. “Lady, give me patience,” she finally exhales into the night sky, sending her exasperations and desires to the ether.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all

Abasi

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get

Where did you find the Gods?

His people had not particularly believed the Gods resided in the sky, but he was out of options. Abasi had looked about the forest where he had dropped and the village nearby, and found nothing that looked like a proper altar. Couldn't see any evidence of sacrifice or smell any of the usual burning herbs - either the town was very blasphemous indeed, or they worshipped their Gods elsewhere.

Upon seeing the Spire, such a great and forboding structure in the distance, he had immediately suspected that he might find the answer at the top of it. It was a challenge. The Gods loved to send those, had done nothing but give him challenges for years, of which he was sure this 'Caido' was one.

So he went to it, and he climbed. Dressed in clothing suited for a desert and sandals designed for the sand, it was a tough walk and often cold, but he persevered, knowing his own Gods well enough to know they would not appreciate him giving up.

When he finally reached the top, panting for breath and near-delirious with desperate hope, he was both disappointed and relieved to see a perfectly mortal (ha) looking woman before him. "You. Is this the temple? I am a high priest of the Pharoah, and I need to speak with the Gods."

WESSEX

You.

She heard a person coming and decided not to give a fuck about who it was, but didn’t think they (whoever they were) would open with a ‘you.’ Her eyes roll. Until it’s followed by nonsense that she doesn’t understand. Turning around to face the person, it isn’t until she drinks in his foreign clothes (ill equipped for a Leafchange night) and pair it with his use of a strange word that she realizes what’s happening. A slight nod of her head indicates that she understands (part) of his question, but her words shut it down.

“Ah. You’re new here, aren’t you?” With an almost apologetic look, she breaks the news hard and fast to him. “You won’t find your Gods here. Not here” she indicates the Spire itself, “or here,” she indicates the open air, all that they can see from the top.

“Sorry. I can answer a lot of questions though, if you have any.” It was the ‘nice’ thing to do, right? Even if he was invading her me time.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all

Abasi

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get

Had he not been in the situation he was in, Abasi would have put word to the instant offence in his chest when the woman did not show him the proper respect owed to his priesthood. Even when he had been disapproved of in his city he had been respected, for to insult one who communed with the Gods was suicide.

But...this woman did not seem to care, and he could not afford to be angry when he needed so many answers. Sighing, he turned away from Wessex and paced for a moment, thinking through what he should do.

"...Fine. Then I have questions." He said bluntly, looking off the Spire into the distance. "What is this place. Why am I here? Is it a punishment? When, if ever, shall I be returning to Eygpt?" Abasi whipped around and looked her in the eyes. "And who are you?"

WESSEX

To insult The Wraith in the night might very well be suicide.

He’s lucky he’s got a temporary free pass. Can’t kill all the newbies who come dropping in, then she’d have no one to rule over.

His distress is evident, but his tone makes her pull back from her proffered niceness. Demanding, isn’t he? With a raised brow that he may or may not be able to see by the light of the moon, the blonde woman ticks off the answers on her hand after he finishes. A finger for each answer, to make sure she gets them all. Her own, however, is a bit less cordial than it was before.

One. “You’re in Caido, specifically the Hollowed Grounds.” Two. “I don’t know your exact purpose, but previous Outlanders were brought here to help my Goddess escape this prison.” She indicates the tower he’s just climbed and any remnants of the old machinery that might still remain of the explosive ordeal. There's no surprise that the portal is still open, despite its purpose being fulfilled. “Now that She’s free, I’m not sure.” She shrugs, but sees a lovely opportunity. “But the followers of The Voice will always welcome newcomers.”

Three. “I don’t know. Maybe never. I’m not sure the portal can work the opposite way.” And if it did, anyone who’s used it is long gone, never to report back with their successes or failures. Four. She meets his gaze full-on, with confidence and the slightest of smirks. “And I’m Wessex, Queen of the Hollowed Grounds.” Well, one of them, but that doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it when it comes to first impressions.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all

Abasi

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get

Many new words came to him all of a sudden. Caido, Outlander, The Voice. He understood little, but did not want to admit too much ignorance in front of a new accquaintance, so he nodded as if he knew what she was speaking of.  Caido could be the country of this 'Hollowed Grounds', he supposed, a word he'd heard Mel use when he first arrived.

"I will not help any Goddess but those of my own people." He insisted. Though even Abasi could see if there was a not a way home that that would be difficult. The Gods had never spoken to him in the correct temple - how was he to contact them now?

Upon hearing the word 'queen', something changed in him. Years of ingrained respect and understanding of heirarchy had him step back, a little shocked that he could find a member of royalty here; he nearly bent down to bow when cynicism stopped him and he paused, squinted. "...Queen? Then why are you up here by yourself? Where is your guard? Your throne? Your...clothes?" The outfit she wore was not suitable for any ruler.

WESSEX

Well. Alright then. He seems quite indignant at the implication that his loyalties might be swayed, and Wessex snorted, then put both her hands up as if to say, fine by me. “Do or don’t, no one really cares.”

But then - oh, but then he turns almost critical, or shocked, perhaps. She raises an eyebrow to his questions, which aren’t quite rude, but borderline disrespectful. His world must be very different. And well, Wessex is different, too. She often wears the clothes of barbarians instead of royalty, doesn’t hinge on pomp and circumstance as much as others might. “I’m a walking weapon and an independent woman, I don’t need a guard. What, you think Queens don’t need some alone time every now and then?” She retorts with a shake of her head and almost bares her fangs at the stranger.

“And who the fuck are you?”

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all

Abasi

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get

"The Gods will." Abasi bit back, with the tone of a Priest telling off an errant believer who had begun to doubt.

A walking weapon, she said. He nearly wanted to roll his eyes. Oh, he had no doubt she could crush him in five seconds flat, but Abasi had never valued physical strength or ability. The aspirations of fools that couldn't read, he believed.

The fangs that she bared, though...instantly he was reminded of Ammit, the crocodile-headed devourer of unworthy hearts. A pang of fear rang through him and he answered her question (however rudely phrased) genuinely, in case this really was a test from his Gods. "Abasi. Son of Hapuseneb. Grand Priest for the Pharoah. I...am lost here. In this...Caido."

Taking a step back, he looked her up and down again. Queen? He wasn't sure. But someone to listen to...? Perhaps. He admired her strict nature, if nothing else. "What do you reccomend I do from this point?"

WESSEX

Ammit, perhaps. Devourer of some things, certainly, shunner and disdainer of many others. But there is one lesson the newest Queen is quickly learning, and that is the power of fear and surprise; the ability to do the unusual or unexpected; to inspire the fear of death (or the blight, whatever). She would call herself Sekmet, or Set, even, if she had known the many names of his Gods.

Even after Abasi reveals his lineage (which means nothing to her), his job (which also means very little), and his predicament (which she already knew), Wessex teeters on the edge of a decision. It isn’t until he asks for her suggestions that she knows what she has to do. Bring him into the fold. By force or persuasion or divine intervention, if need be. She is about to reveal her talons as proof that she is powerful, when another idea pops up, and she stops herself right before her forearm muscles clench.

“Get a home and prepare yourself for Winter. Like it or not, you’re probably going to be here for a bit, and it’s only going to get colder. If you need anything, you can ask for me.”

She says it all with the confidence of someone who knows what she’s talking about. Sugar brings more flies than vinegar, or so someone once told her. Looking at him with an expression that clearly asks anything else? she is eager to return to her silent contemplation of the cosmos and the events of the last few weeks and wondering what the fuck she’s going to do.

No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all

Abasi

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get

"A home.." Abasi repeatedly softly, frowning. The idea seemed so bizarre. He already had a home. It was one of the bigger houses in the nice part of his city, with hanging tapestries and a shelf full of books. He had spent a long time collecting them and scrolls from travellers and merchants, was proud of his collection.

To make a home here, in this kind of place?

It felt alien.

She seemed to not have much patience for him, and as stubborn and rude as Abasi was, he knew when he was outmatched. Nodding, he took a step back. "Alright. I will do what you say. Thank you."