Post by Commodore Kimono on Jul 20, 2024 3:41:34 GMT -5
Under the Cover of Night
Kimono Lamellar
Mother of Mist: Komashitsu
Intergalactic Terrorist, Ex-Earth Military, Wanted Criminal
UNKNOWABLE, UNSEEABLE, UNSPEAKABLE
Base Power Level: 74,953 (Antisense NOW ACTIVE)
Current Power Level: 374,765 (Antisense NOW ACTIVE)
Word Count: 1,156
Total Word Count: 1,156
Text Hex: 6a00d4
Mother of Mist: Komashitsu
UNKNOWABLE, UNSEEABLE, UNSPEAKABLE
Base Power Level: 74,953 (Antisense NOW ACTIVE)
Current Power Level: 374,765 (Antisense NOW ACTIVE)
Word Count: 1,156
Total Word Count: 1,156
Text Hex: 6a00d4
Word across the streets of East City was that a new benefactor had hit the scene. It wasn't your generic corporation trying to look good for the masses. It wasn't Jersey Enterprises attempting to hide their shameful corruption or the local governing bodies giving yet another slight to the needy as to appear that they cared. It was rumored to be a truly beneficial being to those who needed it. Free clothing, free food, even the safety and security of a proper home to return to at the end of the day. This hidden haven for the wayward was not something so easily found, though. Those who were capable would locate it through stable effort, or by following the cloaked ones through the city streets late at night. Away from the prying eyes of the public and down the most uncomfortable of alleyways lay a guarded doorway. Those who came by paid the guards no mind, but anyone staring for even but a moment could recognize the inhuman look of them. Stalwart warriors, clad head to toe in steel plate. Their eyes blank, seldom the ever-so-faint black glow and thin smoke from the eye sockets. They were demons, yet the human poor paid no mind. These guards would not stop anyone from entering the building, it was completely free and open to all, but to those who approached, their eyes would stare as they walked past. Intense. Knowing.
All eyes from the rogue's gallery were pinpointed upwards towards the stage. As more and more cloaked figures shuffled into the large, cathedral-like building from the alleyways of the dark East City midnight, those who had made it inside whether draped in the fineries of the cult of the mist mother or not would see the splendor of the underground church. Halls to all sides filled with large black metallic monoliths adorned with various gemstones and unknown crystaline structures. Hand paintings across the surfaces of the walls and ceiling had horrific, disturbing depictions of unknown nightmares ranging from beasts to humanoid figures prowling this dark landscape of their imagination. Finally, set forward as a centerpiece to the entire endeavor was the carved granite statue of a woman. Below the statue was a set of tables manned by demonic entities of their own being. These tables were loaded with various goods needed by people, from freshly manufactured clothing and house goods to food and medicines. Finally, was the brochure to the tunnel where Komashitsu had secured an underground locale for them to not only hide her assistants, but also to give somewhere for those in need to sleep and live safely without fear of the repercussions. The statue was cloaked in a robe of sorts, her head covered partially by a hood, the carving's only noticeable feature detailing the identity of the figure in question was the unmistakable blight across her carved face. Scar-like blackening to the stone, burned into the material to emulate the real feature, with a bright red ruby in place of the iris. The statue was the monument of the building that so many now gathered around, leaving offerings in exchange for the food and clothes being handed out by the demonic servants below the statue. The offerings were papers, at first of no major significance, but at further glace would prove to be invaluable data and information on local goings-on. Details on nearby government operations, planned public events, charities, and even so much as private information on civilians in East City.
To those who would enter the building, their eyes could be drawn to so much. From the previously mentioned statue, to the grandiose artwork, to potentially the sickeningly prevalent black and pink miasma that wrapped the room with it's loving clutch, hovering millimeters from the floor at everyone's feet and crawling up and around the walls and ceiling of the building. The air thin, but breathable, unpolluted by the mist itself, tasted of copper to those who came to see what was going on in the chapel of the Mist Mother. Past the mist one could see the ornate carvings of tentacles beasts and beings unlike anything found in the mortal plane. Eldritch demonic creatures hovering above the crowd of people, their reach down towards them unable to touch anyone, as if symbolically showing her intent to keep them out of reach from the mortals. Words unable to be read in a language dead for eons was carved into the walls and etchings of the cathedral as if to be verses of stanzas of poems long forgotten. Excerpts from stories untold by mankind. Overall, the appearance and feeling of the place could be seen as otherworldly, or uncomfortable to most.
Far above the crowd was Komashitsu herself, in a room built into the balcony of the large building by it's previous occupants not so long ago, now it served as the temporary base of operations for the entity as she prowled the planet for information. The frail, awkward looking woman sat quietly in her wheelchair as she looked down at the cultists groveling at the feet of the statue of her. The local destitute invoking her praise and giving whatever they could find in exchange for the safety and shelter of her Yokai hordes. This was a far cry from what Kimono had been doing with her sorrowful existence in this body, helping those around her while getting her needed information. This was the law of the land, and she merely listened and obeyed. Her eyes glanced every so often to the door of the establishment. It was left ajar, open to anyone who wished to come in and see or learn of the gathering. Whether they'd agree to her proposition or not was their own decision, their fate after failing to accommodate such options was their own as well. The only thing she bothered to be watchful of, was those who possessed great strength and potential. She had learned her lesson on Planet Arcose with the intervention of the Namekian Guru and his assistant. If she had anyone to worry about, it was those who could back their words up with might.
"I wonder still, what will come of this world should I succeed..." her voice would emit from her body, but with the lacking of her lips moving. The cold stare of the woman to the crowd gathering the eyes of some who knew who she was. "Is it my place to live among these. Is it permitted... I cannot fathom a life after the death of HIM. I will need ot think this more. Perhaps I should meet some of the guests..."