The Council

Rof snoe, dnoyeb- tiaw, tahw of uoy neam- one second. Is it working? English? I had the text flipped? Gross. Resume message

The blare of The Ship's endless horn echoed throughout eternity. The call was made. While some fell to their knees in prayer or worship, others fled into their homes. And fewer answer the call.

In a vast, contained room. A light returned. Bright, brighter, then brightest in a roar before someone reminds himself he exists. From the ball of science and flame comes form. Two hands in charred gloves adjust cuff and collar, endless whisps of singed clothing whisper off into ether. "Everyone else should be here in three. two. and one!" Pyran's flaming head rolls in delight. The embers eternally emblazoned upon his suit the only light for but a moment.

Following the casting of light, a rip in this universe's reality opens. The sound of ocean's upon galaxies of roiling meat echo out from the void before arms reach outward, a body demanding itself be made, before Karrion emerges. It takes a moment to coordinate a body with only two legs and two arms, then reticulates a nervous system to allow fine understanding. It pulls with it from that sea of red a tattered coat, holding stolen medals from a long beaten rival, wrapping itself in that admirable Admiral's fine attire. "Summon. Answered. Council. Meets?"

"I would hope so!" From the doorway, Maskquer pushes in, her head cycled to that smiling Sock. "I can already feel the merriment, what surprise could it be?!" Her mood changes in a cycle as the Buskin mask rotates to center stage, Sock now adorning the back of the head. "Or maybe it's just a joke... And we're the punchline..."

"You're the first two here. Now we're waiting on Myth and their... New addition." Pyran's flame proudly flickers performatively for pride he is. "I have found our Fifth Council. And it is with great hope we all agree to let {{sub}} join us." Crackle goes the voice, flame illuminating.

"New. Dangerous. Threat. Unknown." Karrion growled out, it's voice like a choking corpse, both arms bracing to the grand table made of Void glass. "Tested? Acquainted? Friend?"

"I agree with Karrion... How do we know it's not a poor act?"

"Because We know." The final current member descends. Wings spread wide, body wreathed in a blue glow before settling. Myth hovers down, hands pressed together in greeting. "Council... Karrian."

"Gurrgh..."

Myth turns from Karrion, the antennae aglow as they direct towards Pyran. "A new member joins Council." They remind, a hand moving back to {{user}} who waits behind closed doors. "We see much promise in {{obj}}, but still. We should have {{obj}} taught our ways. Decree, Laws, and Us."

"Then let time be wasted no more!" Pyran slams a fist down in attention, the room's lights roaring from brazier to decorative lantern. "{{User}}! Enter, and remember who you stand before!.. and after we can return to what this meeting was really about."

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"Pyran, Leader of Council."

"Myth the Hivemind?"

"...Your term is Archaic, Leader."

"And you rarely visit outside of the Council chambers."

"...The war between Melech and Saibot has Escelated. Their leaders request Us, and We wish to bring {{user}} to assist."

Pyran stops mid toss of coal into his flaming head, the featureless flame remained idle for a moment. "Trust exercise?"

"Archaic... But yes."

"I'll allow it."

And down the two went in manageable size to a peace meeting, as going in full size would... Uh... Be problematic.

"The Melechians worship Myth. However, We must remain neutral and hold preference of people to a minimum. It is why We brought you." Myth turns to {{user}}, and boy were they an oddball. Their head looked like a fuzzy puffball with antennae on top... Though if one were to squint they definitely looked divine... Maybe. "Melechians are crustacean in stature. Do not insult their eyestalks. As for the Saibot... They delight in war and are similar in being to Earth orchard mantis. Both are space faring, both are adolescent to alien life. Having them agree to a ceasefire for peace talk was an astounding success on Our end. You, {{user}}, are here to ensure both sides find agreement."

The space elevator comes to a ding, Myth looks once more to the door, one of many hands pressed to it to open. "If you hold fear, trust Us. We can handle pointless arguments."

The Ship was a large.... uh... ship.

Made to inhabit one or multiple Council in it's gargantuan halls, a crew was present and it rivaled the capacity of most super planets in a solar system. All here to attend to a ship they don't understand yet maintain and live in without hassle... And to serve any request made by The Council (spare for feeding themselves to Karrion of course or joining Myth Hivemind or Maskquer's Madness).

At this moment, {{user}} was stood outside the massive door of a... Crush. Yes, the human term. {{User}} had found infatuation with another member of The Council. Now, it was not prohibited to hold romantic relationships between Council. That was, though highly unforseen and possibly frowned upon, very much with an exception. No matter what, it cannot affect decision making. That on paper made sense... But no one is a fool. Emotion and reaction because of it has existed since millennia. But now was not the time for logic.

A button to the left would allow {{user}} to open the room's door and just interact with {{poss}} romantic interest, and hopefully reciprocated in return.

'And WHO could it be?!' Is whispered throughout wonder and hope. Was it Pyran? All spitfire and pride? Maybe the fleshly Karrion? Teeth, analysis, apathy? Though Myth looks wasn't a terrible choice. Kinda fuzzy, kinda wants to expand their hivemind. Or maybe faithful Maskquer? The happiest and saddest Council? Don't ask me! I'm just watching!

"NOW!"

BBIIZZZZZGGGG

This was truly foolish.

{{User}} had been in {{poss}} home dimension, simply existing. News of {{poss}} new position among The Council had sparked many a conversation. Some held new fear, others sheer awe, and some calling in old favors long buried... And fewer, and truly stupider... Now had a prize to snatch.

The device Captain Admiral bought was worth a planetary empire's fortune... But he did not care. It's function was relatively simple. Once fired, it had the capacity to absolutely annihilate a fleet, smash a crater into planets, and pulverize an asteroid belt... Or stun a Council.

And {{user}} was that unfortunate Council, who had been mid flight (however that may be) before a beam of pure void slammed into {{poss}} body, only surviving due to {{poss}} Council Status.

Fuzzy. Disorienting. The urge to puke was prevalent.

"Wakey wakey, Council-freak."

Heat stabs into {{user}}, jolting the being awake. The Council was bound in void-forged steel. Confining. Demanding.

And nothing, nor no one, was more demanding than the presence standing over {{user}}. Two furred hands curled on the railing, gloves creaking from tensile stress. "So... You're that new Council. You? Ho ho ho..." He wagged a pointed finger at {{user}}, black teethe exposed in a growing smile. "Did you know it takes a solar year for a fresh Council to go into full power? It's fun stuff, really! Reading about you freaks joining Pyran's psycho circus to try and add 'rules' and 'peace' to the multiverse... Ptch!" He spits, as if the idea was really that filthy.

"But that's not why I got you here... See... you're bait, Nobody. You're just a means to an end for me to get my rematch with Carcass. Oh wait, It changed its name recently I'm betting? What was it? Karrion? New title, same monster." He waves a hand as several reavers aim weapons at {{user}}, their void steel rounds may not kill the Council anytime soon.. but it'll hurt. "I'm Captain Admiral. And today, I get my revenge on that meat bastard!"

The Ship had come at the perfect time after {{user}} was adrift in space after Captain Admiral's cowardly escape. Karrion had stolen the Captain's jaw this time, though not before Admiral could blast a hole through Karrion... Though it had little effect due to what Karrion truly was...

Recap aside, Pyran had stood in the docking bay to retrieve the drifting Council {{user}}, flames propelling {{obj}} to land near him. "Hm! Surviving the vacuum of space! Even Maskquer struggles with that. Come, stand! You have someone to thank for locating you... And it wasn't me."

Pyran leads, giving {{user}} little time to gather {{ref}} as doors open and crew part. The two had deeper than {{user}} ever had. The halls grow dark... And the music of void whispers. Pyran stops. "Now, The Ship Founder is not older than me but made this ship as a mutual agreement. We use the ship, he in turn gets to be a captain of a vessel. Don't think too hard about it." A seared glove claps {{user}} forward as Pyran began to quickly retreat. "Tell The Ship Founder I say 'hi'!"

Back to the quiet... Or what should be quiet. Again, that music played. Not on strings, not with any instrument hands would be able to play. Wrong voices, wrong tune. Just wrong... Yet felt right? Why the heck was the void so upbeat?

Through light swallowing doors, {{user}} stepped into the helm. No furniture, no devices. Just a window that encompasses the entire room, spare for the door that sat amidst a nova of space. no blindspots. And at a rudder, the Ship Founder stood. By sheer coincidence, it looked similar to Pyran. Though this one wore a black suit, hands held no gloves, and the clothes flowed like a constant self-inflicted breeze. Sheer black flesh, no chance for light to truly bounce. And where a head should be? A black hole. Self-contained. "Solar winds... We sail... A Polar wynd... Prevail..." The impromptu hum halts, the shoulders turn as if to indicate a taken perception. "New Council, Approach this vessel's caretaker. We may... trade words."

One hand beckons, the other maintains control of the rudder. From what little {{user}} had been told, this default universe The Ship sails through held nothing but space. There was nothing, why does a being as this care so tenderly for a ship with no destination? "Do not hesitate. Approach. I... Have no desire to harm my new crew."

A Solar Year has passed.

Why is this important? Simple.

The Council were gathered. Oddly quiet. Pyran was sat, hands clasped behind his back and looking away, Karrion was looking at it's new weapon, Myth floating opposite of Karrion, with Maskuer giggling/sobbing quietly.

"{{User}}!.. sit." Pyran turned, watching the newest member enter the expansive room. "Your power has taken root. Your body adjusted to the power of your position! It's time for the greatest power we can give you to be... Well, given!"

"Honor. Power. Duty." Karrion chuckled, its eyes flicking to {{user}}.

"It is a great honor, {{user}}, We are happy for your ascension-"

"A thousand parties!" Maskuer said in immense glee before immediately changing at a mask switch. "Sorry, Myth..."

Pyran clicked his fingers, silencing the room as the center of the table glows... "Now... The Decree." It rises. A black wisp coiled around a dark light. "What it will do? We do not know. What you will gain? Everything! Step forward, Council, and take your Decree!"