Highway to Heaven [23 Consimbs 4385]

[sythyry]

Mirrored from Sythyry.

hCevian: “One old instinct urges me to take revenge for the wrong you have done to me! One new instinct urges me to thank you for the labors you have performed to rescue me!”

Me: “Well, which will you be following, and why?”

hCevian: “A parallel bundle! Both at once!”

Me: “Vae, you wrecked hCevian once; can you do it again?”

Vae: “Not a bit can I, for I have not made up to him yet for the first one.”

Me: “But you could if you needed to.”

Vae: “If I were so rude, I could, but it would be a rude thing and a mean one.”

Me: “You only have scruples when it’s inconvenient!”

Vae: “The sorrow for that is on me, greatly!” And she started to cry.

hCevian: “There is no need to wreck me! I have brought you safely to a delightful place, Heaven, a Heaven, a true Heaven of kindness and sweetness!”

Me: “Vae, can you get us back home from here? Wherever this here may be?”

Vae: “The way back I can open, if I can find it.”

Me: “hCevian, take us back now, or show her the way back, or it will go the worse for you.”

hCevian: “But I have brought you to a Heaven — a Heaven of Mircannis!”

Half the Crew: “Ooh, what’s that?”

Other Half: “Gah, get us home now!”

Me: “I agree with the Other Half, being very concerned with safety.”

hCevian: “In ages past, the goddess Mircannis created this little universe, as a place where she could exercise her transcendent and polypotent merciness!”

Half the Crew: “That sounds more interesting than any city on the World Tree could be! We want to see!”

Other Half: “We are curious, but more cautiously than the first half.”

Me: “I do not want to bring a shipful of innocents and children into a different universe!”

Inconnu: “Hey, who are you calling ‘innocent’?”

Quendry: “I like Mircannis! She is a nice nice goddess!”

Everyone But Me: “We want to see this!” Their exact words were more nuanced and layered, and took a long time to say.

Me: “After an hour and a third of debate, I acknowledge the following agreement: I permit the exploration of this Heaven of Mircannis, as long as Everyone But Me admits that you are a bunch of crazy, crazy adventurers.”

Everyone But Me: “This is true! But you got everyone who was not a crazy, crazy adventurer off the ship already.”

hCevian: “Welcome to Heaven!”

He became a little black anemone sitting on Feralan’s shoulder. Feralan turned his head and kissed him; his spikes passed harmlessly through Feralan’s muzzle. Feralan said, “I’m glad to see you, finally, after all this time we’ve spent together.”

Comments

[shurhaian.livejournal.com]

Even Accanax's afterlife is apparently a quiet place!

[terrycloth.livejournal.com]

A place where everything is destroyed == quiet, yes.
A place where everything is controlled == quiet.
A place where everything is sustained == quiet.

A place where everything is created? Noisy!
A place where everything is known? Noisy!
A place where everything is changed? Noisy!

A place where everything is healed... not... really sure. Healoc is like the bastard child of sustenoc and mutoc.

[sythyry.livejournal.com]

Only if they're designing their heavens after their World Tree arts. The creators are not like, oh, Flokin or Here. The creators can use all the Verbs, and, I suspect, any one of them could have run all of them. Pararenenzu, for one, isn't even all that fond of zir Verb, though Reluu and Accanax evidently are for theirs.

[stormydragon.livejournal.com]

I would think a place where everything is known would be very quiet as well. Nothing to disagree about, no suprises, just an endless wait for the envitable.

[rowyn]

A place Pararenenzu where everything was in charge of making everything known would not be quiet. >:D

[shurhaian.livejournal.com]

The powers of the World Tree gods are not so simply limited to the Arts they govern on the Tree. Every one of the Verb Gods has created extensively - Accanax might not be known for taking great care in his creations, but he does make a great many of them at times.

(p. 167, footnote: "Accanax's afterlife is open to scrying; it is simply a large but unadorned pocket universe with a sparse population of sleeping spirits." There might not be much there, but the spirits are peacefully resting and there's no sign of anything having been there to destroy.)