#sts2 thoughts

So Starris is a planet that has achieved world peace. They really don't need a leader. But they refer to the Regent as Regent. His title means something, even if it's empty.

The idea I've settled on, after talking with my dear partner about my favorite little space brat, is this.

Starrians are capable of having children. They can get together, each take a bit of their core star-stuff, mix it together to make a little void mass, and then feed it a special clay so it can form its shell.

Or, they can make a child by themselves, parthenogenesis style. It takes a bit more out of them, but the process is the same. Star-stuff, void mass, feed it clay, baby.

I think the Regent was born the latter way, from a long line of Regents, that started from even before the peace began, when knowing how to do battle and forge weapons and sling atmosphere altering levels of power was necessary and important information to have.

And then peace happened! And then the planet and its people didn't really need to know how to do that anymore.

But what if something happened? What if an invader came from outside? What if the peace collapsed? Someone needed to hold onto this information, just in case. But not too many people, that might cause problems. One person, to be a living archive. So, the first Regent received their title. And the "bloodline" has been continued, the information passed down throughout the centuries, just in case a time like that ever occurs again.

That was a millennium ago.

Other Starrians have been partnering up, having kids in a time of peace, who will grow up in peaceful times and might have their own kids in equally peaceful times.

The Regent is a copy of a copy of a copy of something that knew how to wage war. He is good at what he was taught. What he was taught is utterly useless on his planet.

He was taught how to win a race. He was really good at winning races. And then he shows up to the starting line only to find there was never a race to run. Everyone gives him this sort of...pitying look, when he demands an explanation for why there's no race to run.

Ironclad: His blood is on fire and he's probably fought his way through several badly healed bones and muscle tears. That man is in constant pain! Also the Unceasing Rage has probably led to hella brain fog. The fatigue this thing's accumulated at this point is bone-deep.

Silent: The Blight. The Spire literally gave her a chronic illness.

Regent: Those feet! Do not look like they are for walking on in Preon's gravity! (If, of course, we assume Preon's gravity is like Earth's). I fully believe he can walk on them, ballerinas and horses exist, but I don't think he enjoys walking much!

Necrobinder: Flesh? Blasted off. Organs? Yoinked. Surely there is an adjustment period. I do not think that the adjustment period has passed.

The guys I am talking about are the Fogmog and the Obscura, and their illusory minions, the Eye With Teeth (shuffles 3 dazed into your discards) and the Parafright (straight up hits you).

It'd be very fun if the illusions they summoned were tailored to the target it was fighting.

The Eye With Teeth is a distracting illusion, its sole purpose is to make its enemy slip up. Maybe it'll suddenly look like a perfect mirror of its opponent, with all of the convincing ferocity of movement but none of the force to back it up. Maybe it's just someone the opponent knows, moving in a weird approximation of what a Sentient Mushroom thinks regular movement is like. Otherwise not all that upsetting. Honestly, it's more annoying, than anything.

The Parafright, on the other hand, is an illusion that's meant to instill fear. The Obscura is apparently powerful enough to give it enough physicality to make its blows actually hurt. That would only add to the realness of the illusion, which could be really interesting to play around with.

My take on what the slayers might see would probably look something like—

Ironclad: His memories are swiss cheese. He faces an ever-shifting mass of smudged half-silhouettes stained in red. Something familiar. Something that he knows in his heart and bones was real at some point, but he just can't figure out why looking at it makes him recoil harder than when its strikes land true.

Silent: Her big sisters. But how they would look if these infested levels of the Spire corrupted them a la the Entomancer. They fight with almost as much skill as the real ones do, and the Silent could never imagine besting them, not yet, not until she's proven herself to them. But if they're like this, then she never will—

The Regent: A handful or so of his people. But how they would look if the Spire chewed them up and spat them out. Beings that don't know pain, from his home that only knows peace, that this place took and mangled into something horrible. The only thing he could do for them now is to put them out of their misery.

The Necrobinder: Her new friends. But with terrible, fatal wounds that are too reminiscent of the moment her world was ripped to shreds. They don't even look vengeful as they strike at her, even though it happened again and she couldn't stop it and she is, yet again, the last one left. She's always the last one left.

The Defect: Flaw. But perfectly repaired. It tries to talk to it in the beeping, trilling machine language that they share. But all attempts to communicate are met with indifferent violence. There is no evidence that Flaw even recognizes it. Is this what it was meant to be? Is this what the Architect will make it if he fixes it?

- - -

It's always a relief when the fight is over. Moving on from the ordeal is easier if there's more than one person ascending.

Kind of an expansion on the Regent blurb on this post.

If you look at the monarch's feet:

They are! Pointed! He'd be practically walking on his tip-toes everywhere!

I don't doubt he's capable of walking. In fact, it might've been the first thing he figured out when he touched down on Preon (which I hc as having a stronger gravity than Starris).

It would just be... unsustainable.

Go-getter that he is, I could absolutely see him spending a good week-and-a-half practicing in this new, stronger gravity until he could walk like a (particularly saucy) local. Before immediately deciding that he's entirely over how tiring it is on this backwater planet, and decides to put his minions to work as the fanciest mobility aid you ever did see.

If he ever lost access to his throne, he'd have more pressing issues at hand than his ability to be mobile (I hc that he uses his throne as a way to ground himself when he channels truly stupid amounts of power so he doesn't just full-on blow himself to smithereens), but those more pressing issues would make him disregard the way his legs are starting to sting.

"Urgh, my legs ache, perhaps I should—IS THE IRONCLAD SHARPENING HIS BLADE INSTEAD OF TREATING THE ARMS HE SHREDDED HIMSELF??? NOT ON MY WATCH!"

"Hm... my legs hurt, but if I improved my ability to generate starlight now, it could prove to be more useful in the long run."

"Oh, we're not so far from the next Ancient. I'll be fine until then."

The rest of his people would balk at discomfort. But to him, anything new and unfamiliar is interesting to some degree, even this. What's a little bit of pain?

Besides. Look at the people around him. Surely they're tired. Surely they ache. But they aren't complaining.

And he's not stupid, he knows they think him soft.

He'll prove them wrong. Pain is nothing in the face of the infinite cosmos.

(But the other members of his party were built in this environment. He was not.)

Long-distance flights are an. Ordeal.

Now that I have my mental faculties back online and no longer sleep like a senior citizen thanks to jet-lag, here are the thoughts I've scraped together regarding our five slayers, and what they would be like on a long-distance, 10+ hour flight.

- - -

Ironclad:

Never flies alone.

Can usually remember all his important documents, but will almost certainly forget something important in his luggage (i.e. device charger, spare clothes, etc. 😔).

In charge of carrying luggage that people can't carry.

Genuinely okay in any seat, so usually ends up in the middle, destined to be slept on by the people flanking him.

Not even a little bit airsick, will eat every meal, drink every drink, snack on every snack the flight provides.

Will somehow end up sleeping at the exact moments in the flight that give him the worst jet-lag possible for his destination. And by the time he's finally adjusted, it will, without fail, almost be time to go back.

Silent:

Flies only if 100% necessary, whether or not anyone accompanies her.

Packs one carry-on, never has luggage to check in.

Likes the aisle seat, and the freedom of movement it provides.

Gets airsick (prefers her feet on solid ground), takes Gravol for the flight and does her level best to sleep through meal times so the smell of shitty airplane food doesn't make her nauseous for the rest of the flight.

Gets ginger ale with ice. Might nibble a snack cracker.

Highly adaptable, almost impervious to jet-lag.

Regent:

Probably has a private jet, but will go on public airlines with his friends.

Way, way, way overpacks. Needs a fleet of luggage carrying carts for his stuff. Doesn't care about overweight restrictions, he'll just pay the fines.

Gets everyone the airline perks and into the premium airport lounges.

Demands the window seat! How else is he supposed to watch the clouds go by???

Impervious to airsickness, but won't eat the terrible public airline food. Low blood-sugar nearly kills him at the end of the flight, though. Wobbly husk that needs a local electrolyte drink as fast as possible lest he passes away.

Jet-lag makes him cranky for the first 3 days but then he'll adjust perfectly and be 100% fine.

Necrobinder:

Likes travel, makes meticulous itineraries.

Leaves before each flight super early, doubles checks and triple checks EVERYTHING before leaving. Beats herself up if she forgets anything.

Prefers the window seat! How else is she supposed to watch notable cities and mountains go by???

Airsickness depends entirely on the turbulence in the flight. Will try to eat at least one airline meal, along with snacks and drinks. Likes Sprite with ice.

Brings a book or two with her to keep herself entertained. Honestly probably the closest to an average flier that they can get.

Graceful jet-lag haver. Takes strategic naps at her destination to ease her sleeping schedule to local time as fast as possible, takes advantage of it while it's there to do things in the wee hours of the morning.

Defect:

Flies with friends! Doesn't really see a reason to get on a plane by itself.

Packs exactly what is necessary, no more, no less. This means it will lack the little things that aren't necessary, but are nice to have (i.e. neck pillow 😔).

The one who's in charge of keeping track of everyone's luggage.

It's also okay with sitting anywhere (secretly really likes the window seat but a mix of being the biggest guy in the group and the window seat being highly sought after makes it unlikely to ask for it).

Also immune to airsickness, will eat every meal, drink every drink, snack on every snack the flight provides.