#tabula raisaa

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!!

Our mother has been absent

Ever since we founded Rome

But there's gonna be a party

When the wolf comes home

That's not a troll, nor will she ever come back to haunt Alternia, but Chimera is responsible for some of this blog's oldest lore.

You might note her name is awfully similar to Chimer's, and you would be right! For various reasons Chimer has a fragment of her soul; however, Chimer is essentially her own person now, as she was given said fragment around a thousand years ago.

Though she left for another universe in the end (willingly, on her part), she created Chimer from the troll Tabula Raisaa, and also gave the Dolcez bloodline their timeline manipulation powers.

Maidel has met her. He does not like her.

Priori is the one who bargained with her. Priori, without whom Chimer would not exist. Priori, who lost her only love after Tabula was no more.

Chimera, last of her kind and having taken her species' name as her own, forced to kill them all before their time manipulation abilities destabilized the universe.

A crime whose consequences she has fled from ever since.

[cloudbattrolls]

Somebody said that I'm a fuckin' slum Don't know that I belong Maybe you're fucking dumb Maybe I'm just a bum Maybe you're fucking scum

Character songs that just give you Character Vibes even though the lyrics are minimally relevant are valid.

lots of experimentation here! I want her outfit. 

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The Mirror Looks Back

Chimer Latrai | Civitrecce | Several Nights Prior

You hesitate before you knock on her door.

The building you’re standing in one of the many identical hallways of is very uniform for Civitrecce. Ask any troll to think of the tech city, and they’d probably imagine a tall gray hivestem just like this one, fifty floors tall with struts on the outside to balance it in the winds and roosts for flying lusii to roost on.

There are gardens around its outside balconies too, strung with netting to keep out the aforementioned flying lusii. Each lowblood is allowed to grow a certain amount of their own food. A lot of places don’t even permit such things (god forbid lowbloods be too self-sufficient) but given Civitrecce’s population and the financial strain of imports from the surrounding valleys, it was finally allowed about seventy sweeps ago.

Still, you saw what must’ve been a highblood’s raptor lusus swoop down on one, tear through its netting with what looked like metal-covered talons and wreck it, not even eating anything it destroyed. You wish you’d been in range to throw your trident, but it was at least ten floors up. Plus an incident is the last thing you need right now, though you grit your fangs at your own helplessness and the far worse loss to whatever poor troll is the victim. Probably just one of way too many this has happened to.

The troll you’re about to visit is a victim in her way, but like no other.

You’ve searched for any mention of someone else hatched like her in your many sweeps - any whisper that she wasn’t an anomaly - but you’ve never found anything definitive.

The door opens before you can knock on it.

Tabula Raisaa is a slight maroon, a foot shorter than you and a bit thinner. Her hair only comes to an inch or so past her ears, and her eyes are psiionic white, but were it not for the luminous glow, one would almost think they belonged to a ghost.

Her face is a copy of yours.

Or really, yours is a copy of hers.

“Heeeeeey...” You say, all your planned starts to the conversation going up in a cloud of smoke.

She raises a finger in a “wait” gesture and walks back inside.

You peer in after her, eyes wide with curiosity.

Her hiveblock is small, but...cozy, you suppose. There are notebooks everywhere, open and closed, old and new. A battered laptop is open on a table with a strong-smelling cup of coffee beside it, steaming gently. Strings of lights are strewn across the ceiling and walls. A white meowbeast - not a lusus, you think - dozes curled up on an old maroon couch with threadbare patches.

“Nice setup you got here. Didn’t know you were one for pets.”

A black dog with orange eyes snapping and snarling, trying to take your place.

You wince at the memory. One upside of dealing with Tabula: at least she has no recall feature.

Though...she seems to recognize you. How is that possible? You were ready to explain everything, now that she doesn’t have Cherie’s power sustaining her memory.

“I could be culled for not having a lusus.” she replies from a room you can’t see, tone sharp. 

Sharp? Tabula’s always dull, emotionless...

The girl who walks back in is anything but, arms crossed as she looks at you with distaste.

“I felt disdain was appropriate for you, so I drank some.” She says, chin up. 

Your fins ripple up and down in confusion.

“You can store emotions now? Also, what’d I do.”

Tactfully you don’t remind her that she once tried to kill you, and also she was on Cherie’s side last time.

At least they don’t seem to have done anything to her. 

She laughs, an eerie enough sound that your skin prickles a little. It’s like she learned how from recordings which...is about right.

“Can I sit down at least?”

“Why not?” She says, shrugging. “You’ve imposed yourself on me in every other way.”

Rolling your eyes, you plunk down near the meowbeast, which opens a sleepy yellow eye at you and then ignores you entirely.

“Look, I’m not expecting you to be jazzed about me, but I came here to make sure you were safe, okay? Cherie has popped up again and they talked about you in their usual creepy way, so I’m trying to be responsible toward you for once. Be a pal and don’t give me shit.”

“You’ve seen me, I’m safe. Since you’re still here, you want something from me, as if you haven’t taken everything I was entitled to already.”

She’s not being fair.

That’s your first thought, yet she’s not wrong. Chimera’s selfishness created you, not that you asked for that. Cherie claims Tabula is hollow, incapable of individuality, but just because she’s different doesn’t mean she’s not a person. 

For over four hundred sweeps she was a voice in your head, watching you live the life she should’ve had.

You exhale deeply. Just because you didn’t mean for her to suffer doesn’t mean you’re not the reason why.

Plus, though it stings, she’s not entirely wrong.

“Yes.” You admit. “But that was a recent thing, like, an hour ago. I originally came here to see if you were safe and ask you some questions. And if you don’t want me to, I won’t bring it up. Plus, it’s for a friend, not me.”

She takes out a vial from her sylladex - you see it flash golden - and drinks it down. 

“For a friend! That makes it better, doesn’t it? How you assume I’d help you. What do I get in return?”

Amusement enters her tone, the hard edge of disdain still pointed beneath it.

“I can pay you, or give you a favor. Also, how are you storing those? How do you even remember me?”

“Magic, Chimer!” She sings, entirely amused now as she twirls in place, her gray skirt swirling. “Magic, psi, and technology combined. Did you think you were the only one with all the tricks? Oh - but you gave it up. Silly girl!”

Disdainful Tabula suddenly seems a lot more appealing.

“Coooool. Okay, so, what do you remember about Cherie’s goals, if anything? Did they ever talk about their past, or how they felt about the spectrum?”

“Why should I care? They weren’t very funny.” she says, yawning, but then a watch on her wrist beeps and she downs another vial, this one gray. She calms, and sits on the floor, cross-legged.

“You haven’t asked me about myself in the whole time you’ve been here. I’m nothing but information to you.”

Her voice is even, non-judgmental. 

Perhaps that’s why your fists clench as you inhale deeply, fins pressed down.

“What should I ask you, Tabula? What could I ask you? I barely understand you, and god, I should, but I don’t. I owe you everything, and you don’t owe me shit. There’s no way I can ever pay you back, and I hate it. I hate that you tried to fucking kill me and I can’t say that makes us square, because I know what you went through. I hate that you stood with the person who imprisoned me and I can’t say that makes us square either, because you literally had no choice, and none of it would’ve happened if you’d gotten my life.”

It’s hard to glean an expression from those white eyes, but she drinks another vial. 

It’s fuchsia.

“Accepting you don’t understand me is something.” She says. “Cherie pretended to. I can’t remember everything, especially after I took the implants they gave me out, but I remember that much.”

You blink.

“Why’d you take them out? Didn’t they...I mean, didn’t you have to find a new way to hold onto stuff? Judging from obvious context clues here, you still can’t sustain an emotional state, no offense.”

“I don’t feel like taking offense.” She says, still calm. “I can’t take amusement again or I’ll get distracted, even though I just made a funny joke. The feelings consume me.”

What do you even say to that? To the girl forced to depend on others to react to the world around her? To know if she’d had your life, she wouldn’t be this way?

“That’s rough, buddy.”

Nailed it.

She gets up and flips through notebooks, doing this for a few minutes until she gets the one she wants and reads aloud.

“The storage and stabilization implants have control units in them. Must take them out so Cherie can’t get to me. Coloth tech, I think.”

Your lip curls in disgust.

“They walked up to me acting like they were all invested in lowblood rights, knowing damn well I was there when they tried their little timeline BS. Now this too?”

An idea hits and you sit up straight.

“Tabula, if I recorded your testimony, I could use it to - ”

“No.”

“Uh?”

“I don’t care about taking down Cherie.”

“Whhhhyyyyy?”

“They’re not my problem.”

“They’re gonna be all of Civitrecce’s problem if they get enough power. Whatever they want, it’s obviously not lowblood rights, and I doubt it’s an ice cream party.”

She looks at you with a gaze you feel scopes all your thoughts out, every plan and idea you’ve ever had.

“I can only hold so much at once, but I know what a maroon’s word is worth against a cobalt. No matter what Cherie does, things are already bad here for lowbloods. I’ve seen suffering tonight. I’m sure I see it every night.”

A sigh, long and drawn out, flows from you as your shoulders slump. She’s right, and it reminds you how removed you are and will always be from the problem. 

No matter how what you change, highbloods can do whatever they want. They won’t respect lowbloods unless it costs them to not. They’ll shove them in helms, tear up their food with lusii, use them for their plans.

Meanwhile you remain as untouchable as when you slammed Cherie into that floor. 

Tabula would die for so much as slapping a blueblood. If she was lucky.

With a brush of your hand you slide your hair out of the way as you lean back on the couch that really isn’t big enough to fit you, your legs sprawled out on her floor.

“Yeah. Thanks for being straight with me, though.”

Her white eyes blink, and her ears flick. 

“I don’t care enough to lie to you.”

“Still.”

In a world of endless politics and the pain in the ass that’s Cherie, it’s nice to have someone be blunt, no matter how frustrating it is at times. 

She downs another vial as her watch beeps again, this one more a bluish gray.

“If you want my help, my price is your happiness. A whole night’s worth of happiness, of everything you have and love. I think it would be especially strong coming from you.”

She walks over and you double take in shock as she sits in your lap.

A slender, warm hand lightly runs a thumb across your right fin, and you shudder slightly.

“Don’t forget; you came from me. You owe me.”

Do you have any right to find her creepy? 

You do anyway, but still, you nod.

As both of you know so well, a deal’s a deal.

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Bienvenue, Moins Adoré

Maidel Juzuxt || Present Day

“Is this all really yours?” 

Your freckled fingers fiddle with each other and you know you look so silly, fretting in front of them like this. The elevator glides up the tens of floors through the skyscraper as the two of you stand there, the pastel violet lights playing over the pair of you.

“No, I share it with someone.” They answer easily, apparently unbothered by your gesture as they smooth a dreadlock out of their face. “He’s very accommodating, particularly for a seadweller. We keep to ourselves, though. Separate fields.”

You don’t expect much consideration from highbloods, but why doesn’t Cherie? Surely as a cobalt they’re treated with more respect. You’re afraid to ask, though.

The lift stops and with a gentle ding, the doors open. You blink in the brighter lights, going forward a few steps, disoriented and even more so when a shrill gasp of delight sounds and you find yourself face to face with Naeyrn.

Your limbs stop responding and you shake uncontrollably as this grinning apparition boops your nose and laughs before retreating with a twirl of her olive skirt.

“Che-riiiiiiiie!” She trills loudly, her hands now both pointed at them accusingly. “You didn’t warn us you were coming! Rude. Eri’s gonna be maaaad at yooooou.”

She swaps one of her pointing fingers to your direction.

“He’s afraid of me! Didn’t you explain? My gosh. You’re sooooo not polite tonight!”

Your mind is static, but Cherie’s smile doesn’t waver, though it does become apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, Maidel, I should have warned you about Priori.”

“She tried to kill us!” You croak. Everything twists yet falls into place at the same time; this is the other person in Naeyrn, the reason she locked you up, the one who betrayed you at the reset. Why is she with Cherie?

Why is she acting like you’re her friend?

Why are you so angry?

“I’m not Naeyrn!” She sings. “I might look like her, but I’m cuter, and I don’t have a nasty dragon soul bit inside me making me feed on energy to stay immortal. I’m not going to hurt you. Alsoooo, that one who tried to kill you all wasn’t me. I’m from a TOTALLY different timeline. Your one’s totally gone.”

Nothing she says makes sense. She’s here and she’s going to hurt you. You reach for your psi to planeswalk, sparking lime -

“I really wouldn’t, if I were you.”

The quiet voice carries a deep undercurrent of malice. It’s coming from somewhere above your head.

You slowly look up and scream as you see a giant, white-haired purpleblood looming over you.

Then your fear just...goes.

Everything goes.

“Tabula, it’s not right to do that without permission.” 

Cherie’s pleasantness has acquired an edge. Mechanically, your eyes flick and you see a maroon. Stubs for horns, gray eyes, and simple wear. She’d be entirely unremarkable if it weren’t for the white psi glowing softly around her eyes.

It reminds you painfully of Pheres, but for some reason, the memories of him are hollow of feeling. You would be panicking if you could panic. You can’t do anything.

Then it lifts.

Cherie sighs, then smiles again.

“I’m very sorry, Maidel. Let me show you your block.”

You follow them, feeling three pairs of gazes crawling on your skin.

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The Mind Electric

Maidel Juzuxt || Present Day

You’re brushing your fangs the next evening after dreams even sopor couldn’t suppress completely, looking in the mirror of your room, when it finally hits you how absurd this all really is.

Not that it hasn’t always been, but you always threw yourself into video games, into food, into taking care of Pangomom, into trying to help everyone else around you so that you wouldn’t think of it. You told the truth about your psi, but learned not to speak of anything else, of all the things that make you even more disgustingly pitiable than you already are, or worse, make you look completely sunstruck.

You half wish you were insane. At least that would make sense.

Why does Cherie want you here, really? You haven’t seen any sign of Echthros. No one else has acted like there’s a threat. 

A bell chimes faintly. No doubt more of the fancy machinery in the building.

There’s a knock on your door and you jump before taking a few breaths, tying your hair back, and going to open it. 

It’s the rust girl. It could be the purpleblood, you guess.

“We’re going down to the Spine.” she says, tone flat. “I’m sorry about last night. I know I don’t sound sorry. You’ll have to believe me.”

“Um...” You say, fingers twisting together as you follow her. “Who are you?”

“Tabula Raisaa.”

You suck in a breath. The girl who became Chimer. You didn’t realize she’d been maroon. The pair of you step into the elevator, and the door shuts.

“Is...are you really from another timeline? You’re not...?”

“Cherie brought us here. They gave us the ability to handle our powers. You came. You inspired them to do all this. Then you left.”

You have so many questions, each one bursting to be free, but you can only mouth one.

“Were we really matesprits?”

She looks at you, and while her expression doesn’t change, her hand goes to her mouth, her fingertips touching her lips as she studies you.

In a few moments you get uncomfortable from that gray gaze, and she looks away.

“It doesn’t matter now.” She replies, and you want to scream that that’s not helpful, but then the elevator door opens again.

Cherie is waiting, along with the purpleblood. There’s no sign of Nae - Priori, which makes your shoulders relax slightly. You try to avoid the purple’s eye; she looks extremely disdainful. You realize you have no idea who she is either. You’re not sure you even want to risk asking.

“Maidel!” They say, grinning. “Was breakfast all right?”

Such an ordinary question now feels ridiculous. You look up. You’re standing in a tall, long room with many small, doored capsules, big enough for a troll to fit, until you look up and realize there’s pink biowire stretched across the ceiling...stretched across the tops of all the capsules, and distantly...

Oh god.

You want to throw up your coincidentally delicious breakfast now.

"I can make it stop.”

Blearily, you look over to Tabula. 

“Make this stop.” You say, waving a vague hand.

Helms. So many helms. All of them covered except a distant one you can barely see, the only one left bare in this horrible, horrible room.

Cherie looks faintly puzzled for a second, then shakes their head.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Maidel. When you were here before, you didn’t mind. It’s only temporary.” They assure you, like that matters. Like anything they say matters.

“What do you want me for?” It flings itself from your mouth like a bullet, trying to pierce the seemingly impenetrable shield of the blueblood’s smiles and calm words.

“Are you g...going to helm me too?” You manage, terrified, defiant, part of you screaming at yourself for talking back to someone so high caste. 

They’re going to hurt you. 

They’re going to punish you and it’s all your fault because you never know when to keep your mouth shut.

For a moment Cherie’s face is stricken with shock, before their expression becomes a mixture of concerned and embarrassed.

“Maidel, I..know this looks terrible to you, but no, I’m not going to helm you. These helms aren’t mine anyway. I am using them, but then they’ll all be freed. I’m sorry, I’ve messed this all up. You must think I’m awful.” They finish with a murmur, looking to the side. 

For some reason it strikes you again how small they are for a cobalt. Heavy, but so short. They’re...not hurting you. They’re just standing there, upset, and a bolt of guilt runs through you.

“Why do you need them?” You manage.

“For the same reason I asked you to come. We need to destroy Echthros’s new form, it’s true, but that’s not what we were working on sweeps back. That creature’s just a threat to our plans. 

Maidel, what you need to know before I say anything else is that both of our bloodlines - Juzuxt and Dolcez - were given our powers by the same creatures who created Chimer and Naeyrn out of Priori and Tabula. All of your suffering has been caused by those beings.”

They turn, and stretch out an arm. Images on a vast screen of holographic light appear in the air where they point. It’s two creatures; one furred, the other scaled but with a smooth head. Both have wings, and both are holding objects in their hands.

You recognize them as Chimer’s clock...and the mask Naeyrn always used to wear.

“Maidel, forgive me for bringing it up, but you remember the reset. All that trouble, and this is the world we got? One where people like these - ”

They wave a hand, and one of the capsules slides open with a hiss. Your hands clench at the sight of the figure trapped behind a screen of energy.

Blanca.

“ - still exist? Where Naeyrn and Chimer are still free, carrying the power that was used to make the rift in the first place? Where creatures like Natasi and Echthros still roam, capable of immense destruction? Is that the world you wanted? Is that the world you deserve, after you saved them all?”

Cherie’s passion washes over you, drawing you in. They continue.

“I have Doroch and Zelaya trapped as well. The Rincon line will never hurt you again, nor your ancestor.”

Understanding dawns.

“It...was you. It was your creature who went after Blanca, when Phouka made me get her back...”

They smile proudly. “I was thwarted then, by that purpleblood, but even with her memories Blanca knew nothing of me and couldn’t resist my next attempt. No one did. I was Echthros’s best kept secret.”

They must see your confusion, for then they explain.

“Her kind feeds on consciousness, Maidel...much like Naeyrn kept you for yours, and for your psiionic energy, since it came from her originally. Echthros consumed my moirail, Erikaa, in that timeline...and only spared me so I could gather more trolls for her to eat.”

The screen disappears. Cherie looks directly at you, and yet, you aren’t afraid. Finally, the truth. Finally you know why.

“I agree with you, but...why the helms, still?” You repeat, hesitant now.

“I need their power, Maidel. My timeline abilities are weak; they can only function when I borrow the psi of others to sustain me. This can kill a troll, but with enough helms together none of them need die. 

This is how I got Priori and Tabula, and why neither of them are crippled by their own psi; Priori’s uncontrollable omniscience, and Tabula’s once-passive ability to drain the consciousness of others. I gave them the dampeners to survive it.”

You look at the rust girl, startled. You’d thought she was just a regular psychic suppressor.

“With their powers, mine, and yours...with the helms to fuel it, I will go back to the ancient time when Chimera and Miruka first found our ancestors, but with our modern technology. We will meld their time and ours, our space and theirs. I will achieve what the riftmakers couldn’t, without letting a beast like Echthros through.”

They clasp their hands together, eyes bright with eagerness.

“We will create a whole new world.”

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Conspire

Erikaa Josiet || Present Day

You lean back in your specially constructed chair, your arms stretching to their full length to your sides as they brush your coldbox. It has anything you could want to eat in it. Your large respiteblock has everything even someone your caste could desire; beautiful clothing, your own lab on the side, and a nest you built for your lusus once you get her back.

Cherie promised you could find her again in the new world. 

You kick at one of your stuffed snugglebugs lying on the floor.

Except the new world can’t be entirely perfect, because that stupid greenblood will be there.

If it weren’t for her powers, you’d just cull her. You’re tempted to anyway. She won’t be needed any more when everything’s stabilized. She’s weak as a maroon, timid, and Cherie always looks at her like they’re seeing all their dreams come true. She’s not even pretty. 

You thought when she’d ran away she was finally gone for good, and Cherie would realize that you could just find them another psiionic to do the job. You tried so hard to make them see.

If they’re still going to be blind...you’re their diamond, and this is for their own good. You have to fight past the lump in your throat.

You text Priori, since Tabula doesn’t check hers unless it’s from Cherie and they’re probably together. Priori’s probably still trying to red court her, and you almost feel bad for the oliveblood.

When the pair of them walk in, Priori gives you a puzzled look. Tabula merely sits on the edge of your horizontal recuperacoon.

“Eri, I can’t tell what you’re feeling. I just know it has to do with sweeps ago. So you’re gonna have to explain!”

Why can’t Priori’s obnoxious psi ever work in your favor? You don’t want to talk about it. You feel guilty, even a bit nervous.

“Cherie’s letting their emotions cloud their judgment. They’re following the plan so far, maybe, but I think they’ve forgotten that this greenblood is just a means to an end. We should be thinking ahead in case they waver.”

“You want Maidel gone? Aw, I like her.” says the wyvern troll, two fingers touching her chin thoughtfully. Then she shrugs. “You were here first, so whatever, I guess! Tabula, what do you think?”

The maroon flicks an ear. She’s silent for a few minutes, as usual.

“Cherie’s lucky Maidel doesn’t love them.” She says.

“Whaaaaat? Tabuuulaaaaaa, explain.”

“That’s the point!” You snap. “Maidel doesn’t understand that her worthless life means nothing except for what Cherie’s planned. She isn’t even grateful for what she’s being given. Just her having an immortal’s power is disgusting.”

Greenbloods. You imagine, for a second, holding the ability to mold space in your palms and your anger flares.

“If you want that so badly, just make Cherie give you the mask when they get it! They’re not gonna refuse you.” Priori yawns, now picking her claws. 

“The point is to erase those powers.” You hiss. “They’re wrong.”

“I mean, yeah, Chimera and Miruka were totally shitballs, but a-ny-way. What do you want us to do?”

You suck in a deep breath, and begin to tell them your plan.

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“I can offer you splendid gifts, like the ones your lover has gained.” whispered the chimera.

She gazed at the clock face. White, with a gold rim, black ticks in four places. 

She looked at the beast. Beasts weren’t supposed to speak, were they? Beasts were for killing and eating.

The chimera stared at her, then smacked herself with her spare paw. “Of course, you’ve no more memory than a flea. Nothing more than instincts. Why, you barely have a consciousness at all...”

The words slid in and out of her head. They left no impression, and had no more meaning than the buzz of insects.

“No way keep track of time, even! Poor thing.” She mused. “I don’t like to give up my watch, but I think you might need it more. Though it wouldn’t do you much good on its own...”

She watched the creature exhale a sort of green mist into the watch, and for a moment, its eyes went dead. Then it strung the watch around her neck. 

She blinked.

“Where’s Priori?” The maroon demanded. How could she have realized Priori wasn’t there? Why was she wearing a watch? She needed to get back to Priori. She’d gone null again.

Wait.

If Priori wasn’t here, how was she feeling?

A proud grin stretched across the face of the creature in front of her.

“Like it? That’s only a taste! I can give you so much more.” She soothed, green eyes wide.

“You’re just like the dragon! She came and now Priori’s all weird and I hate it and you’re going to do something awful, too.” She said, pointing a finger in the face of the beast, so close she nearly touched her nose. “Why don’t you just leave us alone? Go back to your blueblood! We don’t want you here. We’re happy.”

She tore off the watch and looked at the beast again.

It sighed and picked up the watch, clicking its tongue and shaking its head. A part of her dimly registered that as behavior to be wary of. Beasts shouldn’t act like trolls.

“Little Tabula.” the chimera murmured. “You don’t even understand how blind you are. How little time you have. If only you weren’t so perfect, I could leave you be.”

The beast spread its great wings and ran, beating them and flying off. Tabula turned away, forgetting it, and didn’t hear the words it muttered.

“If you won’t make a bargain with me, your lover will do it for you.”

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And I won't get a take in 'Cause I'm out when I'm stakin' And the rings I am breaking Are making you a personal debt With the holograms beside me I'll dance alone tonight In a mirrored world, are you beside me All my life?

Gorillaz forever, my dudes.

[cloudbattrolls]

having completed a page of my round, I will reward myself with babbling about plot trolls

ANTAGONIST SIDE DYNAMICS

Priori (PREE-oh-REE) is the loudest and most chipper of all of them, due to a general lack of social skills and a general lack of caring that she doesn’t have social skills. She doesn’t even do it maliciously, for the most part! But when you can know things about people just by looking at them, or hearing their voice, or catching their scent - etc when you experience them in any way and information just comes to you, being polite is suddenly less of a priority (ha). Sometimes she doesn’t even understand why what she blurts out might be hurtful or awkward. This is why Cherie tends to keep her away from anyone who isn’t them, Erikaa, or Tabula, because she runs her mouth like there’s no tomorrow. 

She ADORES Tabula, though that’s mostly due to their previous tight codependence due to the effects of their psiionics (which are now somewhat controllable due to Cherie giving them implants to help with that). She’s fond of Cherie, if mostly because she is absolutely deadset on trying to get them to break their calm, smiling, “kinda creepy” (as she puts it) character. She’s not quite sure how to feel about Erikaa, given that Erikaa is more Stereotypical Highblood than Cherie and while she knows things about Erikaa she doesn’t actually know much about how Erikaa thinks, and that bothers her a little. Erikaa’s interest in Tabula also bothers her.

Erikaa is fascinated by Tabula because she thinks her psiionics could be extremely useful if they could be controlled and duplicated instead of simply suppressed like they currently are. (Tabula’s powers give her the ability to absorb experiences and knowledge from other people, though not to hang onto them; depending on the strength of the memory or feeling, it will vanish in a certain amount of time. It’s why she and Priori were so codependent; Tabula craved the constant stimulus Priori’s overloaded psiionics gave her, Priori craved the relief of having Tabula take that load off).

Erikaa has...very mixed feelings about Cherie. They’re moirails! But the power imbalance is heavy because Cherie is the one actually remembers their moirallegiance in the previous timeline, and Erikaa doesn’t, because she was long dead before Ascendant Pawns happened, thanks to being consumed and replaced by Echthros (hence, unlike the others, her memories didn’t get stored and carried over by Maidel because she wasn’t there, or in Cherie’s case, escape to another timeline before the reset). So she’s pretty much been forced to rely on whatever Cherie tells her, and she feels like she owes them. She genuinely likes Cherie, but they also make her uncomfortable, and she doesn’t feel like she can rightfully voice objections given ~all they’ve done for her~. It is not a healthy relationship.

She also fantasizes about having a moirail who comes up higher than her hip. That’d be great. It’s extra unfair because she can’t even pick Cherie up, due to her lack of highblood strength and Cherie being goddamn heavy for their size. THE MOST TRAGIC SIZE DIFFERENCE SHIP.

[cloudbattrolls]

Now, Now

Tabula Raisaa || 2nd Timeline

Your face is pressed against one of the windows that looks out on the city, even though you’re not quite sure what you’re searching for.

You suppose you’re trying to find something you actually want to see.

“T...Tabula, oh, I didn’t -”

It’s the highblood. Cherie’s moirail. What’s her name?

“You’re worried about upsetting me.” You state. Flat as ever, no matter how you try to put tone into it.

She’s so much taller than you, yet she looks like a frightened, gangly animal. A wince crosses her face when you speak, as if your words are needles pricking her skin. Maybe they are. Voices have a power you don’t yet fully grasp. Something beyond psiionics.

“You shouldn’t worry.” You say, but now she looks concerned. Why does it concern everyone? You can’t be worried. You can’t be anything, or barely. The fact that you have some urges is proof the implants work at least a little.

Yet there’s some scientific law that states you can’t make something out of nothing. Is that why they can’t do much for you? 

Why did no one ever write a book with all the correct things to say to people? Or no - your sentences are sound. You don’t lie, or seek to irritate. Structurally, you speak like a perfectly functional troll.

So why does it never seem to play out like it should?

It needs feeling. It needs the right feeling.

“...may I sit down?” She says, hesitant, as if she isn’t many castes higher than you. Her blood may be pale and her hair white, but you know how the system works. It places you at the bottom. 

You’ve tried to resent that. To give yourself some sort of identity tied to your blood. It doesn’t work.

“You can always sit down.” You reply. You gesture toward the couch. Soft, fancy, black - built in cupholders and footrests. One of Cherie’s gifts.

Your breath smudges against the window pane. Some evidence that you exist, but it vanishes too soon. If only you could trap it there. Breathing is something that every living creature does, isn’t it?

You can breathe. You must be able to do the rest.

“Tabula, are you...all right, with what Cherie’s going to have you do?”

“Why not ask Priori? She decides things like that.” Priori is helpful that way. At least, you think she’s trying to be. 

The purpleblood’s pale face takes on an uncomfortable cast, her long, thin fingers curled together.

“I’d...rather not.” She says, in an awkward way. Rather, it would be awkward if you minded. You don’t really care what other people think of Priori. She’s a fact of life for you, like breathing. You might as well worry what other people think of the rain.

Should you mimic her awkwardness? It is a feeling, yet you’re unsure. You don’t know what she wants yet. 

“I want to know what you think. I know it’s hard for you to form your own opinions, but you must have some sort of thought on it.”

She looks at you desperately, leaning forward as if she might fall over off the couch. No, that would cause her pain, and trolls find pain disturbing.

You have no answer for her, so you copy.

“I mean, I...I don’t know.”

A brief pulse of alarm. Her pale eyebrows knit and her shoulders hunch, but then she peers at you more suspiciously.

“Are you mimicking me?” Now her tone is accusatory. 

“I keep trying.” You say simply. “Something has to work.”

Technically nothing has to work. If there is one memory you know cannot ever be lost to you, it is that the world does not make sense. 

“Maybe we ought to put you with the helms.” She muses. “The Process has so many identities running through its main helm, I’m sure we could isolate some of the overflow and use it to force a reaction.”

You shrug. It sounds as likely as anything.

“As for my earlier question...I mean, if it succeeds, what are you going to do afterwards?”

That you can answer. 

“Become everything.” You say. 

Erikaa looks bemused. She doesn’t understand. Being null means that you hold infinite potential, potential currently bound up in a half-finished existence. What Cherie plans will give you the ability to harness that. 

You hold up your hands, your wrists still marked by your healing scars.

You touch the base of each palm to the other, then spread the fingers apart.

“Infinity is only the mirror of void.”

[cloudbattrolls]

I should’ve been resting, or doing replies, or homework, or being productive

buuuut, I wound up doing this instead

Cherie: be supremely un-thrilled by your band of idiots

Erikaa: angst

Tabula: wonder what would happen if you stole Cherie’s clothing and got it refitted

Priori: have an unabashed grin because you just found out some useless but entertaining piece of infromation

[cloudbattrolls]

🐩 tell me about Chimer!

Chimer is, canonically and OOC, a spinoff of the character who used to be my fursona.

No, I'm not kidding.

Chimera was my main character I was obsessed with at the time so I made a troll version of her. In canon, it happened by the cosmic time furry herself giving the troll Tabula Raisaa a part of her soul, turning her into Chimer Latrai. There's a whole backstory for why that happened but I won't go into that.

She was originally very clock themed and wore one around her neck since Chimera did as well, and was stuck coming back from being hatched every time she died, but no one remembered her even though she did move forward in time, it wasn't a loop.

Kind of a Homura from PMMM thing, though that wasn't actually one of my inspirations. And because of the clock thing I also gave her hypnotism abilities since that's a cliche, but she's barely used them in play.

Not too much else to her, beyond me liking Fucky Time Shit (which came from watching Doctor Who, but also some books I read as a kid), and as she developed, exploring Alternian politics and the like. She's a whimsical character, but absolutely has her serious side.

[cloudbattrolls]

16 - daybreak, for your character of choice! :D

16 - daybreak

Her feet pounded across the baked plain, running from the hot rays sweeping earth behind her.

In, stutter, out.

Something was wrong with her breathing.

She put a hand to her neck and snatched it away, panting.

An opening in her flesh? Why wasn’t it bleeding?

Why did it move under her touch?

Didn’t matter. Had to hide from the sun. The sun was death.

She found a cave, and smiled weakly, coming to a halt (her feet were starting to blister) until a snarl sounded from it and she shrieked.

A white, canine-like beast poked its head out.

“Mother!” She yelped, scared but eager, fingers trembling, fins - 

Fins?

Since when did she have fins? They pressed to her skull in fear.

The beast - no, her lusus - came out, scorpion tail lashing as it slowly stepped toward her, fur bristling and hackles raised.

“Mother, it’s me! It’s Chimer!”

Chimer?

The name spilled from her own lips but it was foreign, strange. Why did it come out? Wasn’t her name -

“Tabula?”

“Priori!” 

The delight in her own voice wasn’t matched by the olive’s expression as she came into view just under the edge of the cave’s protection, which cycled through fear, suspicion, and loss before settling on a shut-off look, arms wrapped around her body.

Why did Priori seem so much shorter than she’d been?

Ow, ow, ow. The sun.

She took a step forward, nearer to the cave’s shadow. 

“Please, I need to - ”

“You’re not Tabula anymore. What did she do to you?”

“Yes I am! I remember you now! That’s what we wanted, I remember!”

She grinned through the pain, the slight searing of her flesh, helplessly delighted that they’d done it at last.

Her mother backed up, further into the cave, then turned and ran.

She scurried in, arm reaching out, wondering if she should chase after her. Her own mother wouldn’t abandon her, would she? 

She was Tabula Raisaa. Now she would never forget her name, or anything else. 

Priori stared at her with those narrowed eyes, their yellow and green gleaming in the dark.

“I didn’t ask for you to be fuchsia.”

The taller troll opened her mouth, then closed it again, her traitorous fins flicking. She clamped her hands down on them.

“It doesn’t matter! I’m still me! Except now I can feel things, I don’t even need you! I - ”

The wyvern troll’s fists clench and her nicked ears pin down as she yells.

“Shut up! You’re not her! You’re - you’re Chimer now. You’re not her.”

She takes in a shuddering breath as the maroon - the fuchsia - gapes at her, completely lost. 

“Even your lusus can tell you’re not the same anymore.”

Chimer. Chimer. Chimer.

It pulses in her head. Alien, yet fitting. A name given to her, to this troll she’s become.

“No! I’ll be Tabula for you!”

“Tabula’s dead. The only troll I ever loved, the only troll I could ever be around is gone because of you, whoever you are.”

“Chimer Latrai.” The fuchsia says quietly. “She said - the creature said I was Chimer Latrai.”

The memories fill up her head, slowly but surely. Of where she ran from.

What she was running from.

Her own creation.

The oliveblood backs up, the light from the rising sun illuminating her ragged clothes, her scarred face, a hot wind blowing through her short hair. 

“Stay away from me, Chimer.”

Then she too turns and runs deeper into the cave, until the fuchsia can’t see her anymore.

The newly made seadweller, only a dawn ago a maroon, sits at the entrance, looking away from the rising red sun.

In the dirt, she draws with the finger of one hand.

In the other, she toys with the clock around her gilled neck.

[cloudbattrolls]

So Little So Much

Chimer Latrai || Geovyn || Two Sweeps Prior

They look up at you with eyes only beginning to thread with color, and this must be one of the only places on the planet where such a hue wouldn’t be culled on sight. You still marvel, sometimes, that a place like Geovyn manages to exist; even if they don’t actively rebel, you’d think the Empire would wipe them off the map out of spite. 

The town chugs along, and so do you, Rennay at your heels bouncing to keep up with your longer strides.

“Miss Latrai!” They announce, loudly as if they’re trying to speak to the whole cavern. A few trolls look over at the pair of you and quickly away again; even in a town where the spectrum supposedly doesn’t apply, a pair of fins still earns certain reactions.

“Yeah?” You squint down at them. Damned short kids. You should be used to it, Sevenn’s so tiny, but despite his height you can always read his face pretty well. Rennay’s taller, if anything, though not by much.

Both of you are dwarfed by the vast cavern, carved out of the sandstone who knows how many sweeps ago. It’s littered with statues and carvings that the town historian told you were seadweller relics, but you’re having a tough time buying that. Mostly because you were here when it was still ocean, and you don’t recall this place. Admittedly, that doesn’t mean much; there were plenty of places you never saw, and Rennay being here...

“Do your gills ever itch?” They ask, poking at their own vestigial slits with a claw.

“Don’t do that, kid, you’ll get dirt in them. Not sure if yours can get infected, but here’s a tip: don’t try, despite what the docterrorists tell you germs are not the hot new thing, not when they’re in your fleshparts.” You say, waving a finger and then booping them on the nose. “They can itch sometimes, if I get in bad water or if parasites try to make a go for them, because we all have to make rent somehow.”

They pout. “Why can’t mine get infected, if yours can?” There’s an amusing amount of sulking going on, as if being able to get specific uncomfortable illnesses is a badge of honor.

Though it is, you guess. In a dumb sort of way.

“Because I was...” You pause. “I’ve been fuchsia for a very long time, and I’m not a cusp like you, kiddo. I’m pinker, see?” You tap the symbol on your chest.

Can’t say you were hatched it. Tabula Raisaa was rust as what grows on metal in the rain, and you’re the product of storybook nonsense.

They stare at you, and the two of you pass the oliveblooded librarian, who gives you a friendlier wave than you’ve seen so far, and Rennay smiles a large, pointy grin full of razor teeth that belong to a seadweller, even if their skinny body is as warm as that green.

“Irchta!” They call. “Look at my new friend! She’s weird.”

The olive looks up from her book, half-moon glasses looking like they’re dangerously close to taking a dive to the floor before she adjusts them. She’s a little taller than your companion, and much softer and curvier. She also doesn’t seem at all bothered by either of you, which is a first. 

“Mmhm, what else’s new? You don’t make friends with anyone normal, Renny.”

“You’re my friend.”

“I said what I said.”

They cackle like she’s told the world’s greatest joke, and the two of you make your way over to the archives section of the cavern. Irchta doesn’t work here; instead there’s a few elderly lowbloods puttering around and the smell of dust fills the air between the crammed, meticulously organized stone shelves.

One of them looks up at you as you walk in, an annoyed look on their face. Thank god.

“The archive’s reading hours are closed, miss.” The scratchy rasp of the voice matches the slightly withered-looking horns and the scruffy graying hair; then again, plenty of Geovyn trolls look like that from spending too much time underground. The small outcroppings of citrine on their face are nicely polished.

“Didn’t come to make you fetch anything; wanted to ask a few questions, that’s all.”

“If you’d like to schedule an interview, please see our secretary.”

“Why’re you bothering, Chimer.” whines Rennay, rocking back and forth. “They never tell me anything! I said, don’t you remember? They won’t look up my records for nothin’.”

Their pigtails bounce as they shake their head, then they stop in their tracks. “Are you going to make them?” They ask hopefully. “Tell them I’m important!”

“I prefer to only make people do things when I have to, Rennay. It’s rude. They glare at me too, which is terrible for my skin.”

Rennay mulls over that one while the archivist stiffens, probably wondering if despite your light words and joking tone whether you won’t bully them after all. You might not have the legal right to here, but six foot seven of fuchsia tends to make people bend, if not break. The spectrum is wired in too hard.

Lucky for them, that’s not why you’re here.

“Rennay’s a cusp, Textkeep.” 

Their ears pin back as they look up at you suspiciously.

“I know this, Latrai.” They say, curling their hands probably to keep them from flashing their claws at you. You feel slightly bad, but you resolve yourself. Can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

“Do you? Funny, you’ve been treating them like they’re about to pick up a trident and go lusus hunting!”

“Do not lecture us in our own space, Latrai! We suffer your presence because we must, but if you think to tell us what to do with our own citizens you will be asked to leave!” 

The Textkeep is breathing hard, but there’s fear in their amber eyes. Poor bastard, even if part of you is annoyed; you know you shouldn’t be, and you shove it down.

“Look...Rennay’s not a true fuchsia. I tested them myself. Remember, Rennay, we looked at your blood? We took your temperature? Besides, fuchsias are a gaggle of geese honking at each other with not a lot of sense to go round.”

An exaggeration - those of your caste who survive to adulthood are usually all too competent, or else strictly controlled - but it gets you another one of the kid’s cackles.

“Yeah! I’m maroon.” They say, proudly. “So why don’t you let me look at my records, huh?! Jeez.”

“No true maroon has gills.” They mutter, but they’re wringing their hands together, and their ears droop.

“Maybe you’ve got a good reason for stopping them. But Rennay’s not, and never will be, a seadweller. So don’t do it for that, for their sake.”

They look up again and they see the challenge in your eyes; isn’t Geovyn a place of equality? Yet neither of you are so naive; a cusp like Rennay is a wild card that can explode. They could have latent rogue psi, they could have destructive aggression just waiting to be riled...no highblood strength, at least. No true gills. Just floppy partial fins and slits.

Still, you understand the Textkeep. Fuchsias are dangerous, often wild, either fodder to make an example at the end of the Empress’s fork, political tools, de-fanged propaganda stars...or you. 

Not that you’re special in any way but one; it’s just that the Empire doesn’t really know what to do with you, and culling you would be a waste of resources, so they do nothing as long as you keep to your agreement.

Rennay’s bright half-gray eyes don’t know anything of that life, or the politics that come with it. It’s about time people treated them that way.

The Textkeep looks away, then down at Rennay.

“When you are nine, Rennay, you may see your records.”

“What! That’s two whole sweeps off.” They whine, shuffling their rubber-booted feet.

“Take it or leave it, kiddo.” You say, and you’re tempted to ruffle their hair, but they’re back to sulking.

“If they’re boring, I’ll never forgive you for making me wait!” They say, puffing out their cheeks. You can’t tell who they’re more annoyed at, you or the archivist. 

You suppose it doesn’t matter.

[cloudbattrolls]

Mar suggested I make a plot timeline, which is amusing considering my plot revolves around two literal different ones.

1st Timeline:

[superscript numbers indicate footnotes, which are explained at the bottom]

Pre-Condesce Reign: Miruka and Chimera, two immortal and highly powerful alien reality warpers, create the Juzuxt and Dolcez bloodlines, giving them their respective space and time warping powers to test trolls and make sure they can withstand their levels of power in the form of psiionics. 

Pre-Condesce Reign, some sweeps later: Sazuud Juzuxt betrays Miruka and attempts to kill her, and while she fails she then vanishes despite her patron’s attempts to hunt her down. The irony is not lost on the latter. Nothing of the sort happens with Liehde Dolcez, since Chimera intentionally handicapped his powers by requiring an outside source to fuel them beyond very basic time manipulation.¹ 

461 sweeps before present day: Chimera and Miruka single out Tabula Raisaa and Priori Poster as ideal hosts for their needs due to the pair’s psiionics, making their respective bargains and leaving the pair objects representing their bond and powers, the clock and the mask. Due to the additional stipulation of partial soul grafting, both of them also essentially become new people, Chimer Latrai and Miruka Naeyrn, particularly as the former is transformed from redblood to tyrian.²

138 sweeps before present day: Carava Wolger discovers relics recording Chimera and Miruka’s existence and influence (along with their objects) and this information eventually comes to the necromancer kismesis pair of Blanca Rincon and Herzan Juzuxt. The latter recognizes their bloodline in the records, and decides to seek out the mask and clock so that they can rewrite time and space to their liking. 

They succeed in finding Chimer and Naeyrn and using their powers, but the attempt to alter the timeline goes horribly wrong, leaving a gaping rift that slowly begins to destabilize every timeline the trolls³ tied to its creation exist in.⁴ 

Zelaya Rincon, alternate⁵ descendant of Herzan⁶ and Blanca, is created by the unstable world temporarily brought about by the rift. She seeks to undo the source of her own existence and save the rift-touched bloodlines of least one timeline while punishing the ones responsible for so much destruction.

38 sweeps before present day: The polyphon (living eldritch music note) Echthros, damaged from a war caused by Chimera and Miruka in her native universe, falls through time and space and is drawn by the energy of the rift to land smack in front of Cherie Dolcez, killing their moirail Erikaa Josiet in the process and assuming a version of her form.⁷

Cherie asks to make a bargain with her:⁸ if she gives them the energy required to use their power and search for another version of their moirail in the crumbling timelines, they will gather trolls for her to feed off of as she works to rewrite history so that the rift was never created. Cherie doesn’t realize that Echthros plans to not merely alter the past, but to remove all the bloodlines involved from having ever existed to preserve order, including their own and Erikaa’s.

They serve her through many timelines until they finally cycle back into the primary one, using their power to move between them as they die, trying to build a perfect town for their moirail to return to.⁹

Natasi comes to Alternia some time later, sent by Chimera to find, capture, and return Echthros to their native universe. Despite their greater power, Echthros remains out of their reach by utilizing Cherie’s ability to quickly cross timelines to stay ahead of them.

Present day: The descendants and originals who remain of the original rift-maker trolls are gathered by Zelaya to save what is now the last remaining salvageable timeline from the splintering of the rift. Natasi holds off Echthros as her gathered minions fight the trolls attempting to reset the timeline to their liking. Things are further complicated when Naeyrn, possessed by Priori, turns on the others and attempts to wipe everyone but herself and Tabula from existence in the new timeline out of spite. 

She is stopped by the sacrifice of the dead, splintered remains of Orthos Aviiva, descendant of one of the rift-makers, who is now doomed to permanent cessation in all timelines as they give themself up to allow her to be cut down. Echthros’s minions are defeated, and the polyphon is thrown by Maidel Juzuxt through the very rift that drew her to the planet.

Natasi, Chimer, and Maidel are left standing to rewrite the timeline, crossing over seamlessly to a new world where they have lived lives unknown even to themselves, for they kept their memories of the old one.¹⁰

The Ascendant Pawns plot ends there, and Heaven of Ashes picks up in the second, new timeline they made, where history has been changed so that the rift never happened.

Footnotes:

1. He’s also just a lot more chill and Chimera wasn’t an excessive dick to him, which helped.

2. The remnants of the original souls, Tabula and Priori, aren’t terribly pleased by this and still hung around as echoes to bother Chimer and Naeyrn (far more strongly in the latter’s case), feeling cheated out of actually benefiting from the deals.

3. Etoile Dolcez and Ostrex Josiet got turned into robots along with most of the other riftmakers. The Dolcez line is the weakest of the trolls made by Miruka and Chimera and back then they didn’t have the necessary technology to really make the most of his power. If they had, they might have actually gotten somewhere with their plan and not fucked up so magnificently. 

Other troll bloodlines were involved as well, but the details of these other bloodlines is not largely relevant to the timeline. Mostly because I don’t play them anymore and it’s Yet More Damn Names. The only other relevant one is the Aviiva bloodline, as Rytior Aviiva’s descendant Orthos would later play a small but vital role.

4. Chimer Latrai had her memories of the event wiped by Blanca Rincon, and the limeblood also stole some of her abilities in the process. Naeyrn had her mind further fractured between herself, Priori’s remnants, and Miruka’s fragment, and grew to lose control more often to the part of Miruka’s soul inside her that required consciousness to feed on.

5. Maidel Juzuxt is, in all timelines but the short-lived artificial one, the true descendant of Herzan and Blanca, with green blood dominating the lime and only the Juzuxt line’s space warping abilities. Zelaya was a dangerously unstable alternate version of Maidel with Blanca’s lime blood, possessing not only the Rincon line’s purity and corruption manipulation psiionics, the Juzuxt line powers, and the necromancer skills of the pair. In other words she was ridiculously OP and should not have existed at all, only doing so by hacking the universe.

6. After being cursed into dullahan form by Blanca as vengeance for turning her over to the subjugglators after their failed attempt to pin all the blame on the limeblood, Herzan Juzuxt assumed the name Doroch Chromh, which they have gone by ever since. Because they’re dramatic. 

7. Echthros’s facsimile of Erikaa’s troll form was imperfect: her eyes were still eldritch, and she covered them with a cloth. She also possessed two shadows, and no voice of her own, along with the occasional spacetime glitch of her false body. 

8. Cherie knew something of their bloodline and of the history they had been involved in, and recognized Echthros for what she was, though they did not fully understand her origins and had no idea of her true motivations until she abandoned them. 

9. The blueblood became obsessed as the sweeps wore on with creating a paradise where less than ideal highbloods such as themself and Erikaa would not be looked down on, and the isolation of only Echthros and occasionally Naeyrn and Zelaya for company aside from the fragile copies of doomed timeline trolls they collected led to a severe degradation of their psyche. They eventually believed that everyone needed to be happy and negative emotions were grounds for culling and then recycling into drugged food to feed the other inhabitants. 

Sunnydale also becomes a fuel source of consciousness for Echthros and a Miruka-possessed Naeyrn, as Echthros was on Miruka’s side in the war and still felt loyalty to her. 

10. The memories of Blanca Rincon, Doroch Chromh, and other trolls were also preserved, with Maidel charged to return them, but aside from being forced to restore Blanca he hasn’t really given much of a fuck since he resents nearly everyone else involved. 

[cloudbattrolls]

Immortal Engines: Chimera

(WE TAKE A BREAK FROM YOUR DAILY SCHEDULED FANTROLLS TO BRING YOU a cosmic furry, because of plot. a.k.a skip this if you aren’t here for anything that isn’t gray skinned with candy corn horns, because [dbz abridged voice] we’re about to go on a triiiiiiip)

(art by @fluffeasy)

Chimera is a creature from a planet and species billions of years dead by her own hand. A time traveler and space warper (time being her specialty), she has other various abilities that make her immensely powerful. However, born as an ordinary organic creature, she was elevated to immortality and a different state of existence by a sort of universal consciousness, to which she is bound by certain laws and conditions, for all her might.

One of those being the weight of karmic debt, to keep such a potent creature in check. For every destructive action she commits, she must atone for, or be locked into stasis for a corresponding amount of time. Initially, she acquiesced with this law, and dutifully went about atoning for the initial (if also necessary) crime of slaughtering her whole race.

Eventually she grew bored of such constraints, and while she could not escape the laws, she could work around them, and did so by finally finding a loophole: while the law binds the moral consequence of every act she does to her very soul, so it cannot be transferred to anyone else’s (and she is prevented from simply forcing it on someone), Chimera after much searching found the troll Tabula Raisaa, who had naturally come into the world with no soul. She persuaded her to willingly accept part of Chimera’s, along with her burden. The benefit to her was to be transformed from redblood to tyrian, and she became Chimer Latrai. 

The deed done, Chimera was free to do as she wished without fear of repercussion, and went to fight a final conflict against Miruka, her longtime enemy and only true confidante. 

She died in that war, frozen in a mutual time lock with her foe as the both of them were destroyed. 

Before the reset, that is. 

Before it was all undone.