dualisnet | UN: presage

[She really is. Fortunately Murmur wasn't resistant to absorbing new information, he was simply behind in human technological advancement. Had he more time to devote to exploring his new surroundings he'd certainly take a detour to learn more about all of the newer technology available. Unfortunately it seemed like they were running on limited time with the Head looming over them all.

Later, perhaps, once things smoothed out.]

Fascinating.

[He muttered, leaning over to inspect the screen, though once a cursory poke with a gloved hand reminded him he couldn't use these devices with gloves on he chose not to investigate further at this time. He was going to need to save his energy for a very long night ahead.]

They convey all that through this medium? Certainly appears to have potential from this demonstration. A far cry from the poets and plays of old.

[Like movies and books in one, with a bonus for interactivity and puzzles. He did enjoy a good puzzle. Might play with these video games on his own time later, while he was trying to wind down from the task ahead. One he expected would be a more daunting undertaking than it appeared from the surface.

Human ingenuity never failed to impress.]

[Perhaps she was, Murmur would have agreed with her sentiment. Even so, receiving a gift was likely as rare as her receiving gratitude. They could both be put out of their comfort zone for a few moments.]

There is a significant amount of interference here. Given what you've shown me about the tunnels I have a suspicion that things might be clearer down there. This mirror will, ideally, aid me in filtering out the worst of the noise.

[He was implying it was an innate skill but then again, Murmur wasn't sure if he was being especially clear. He did have a terrible habit of being vague by nature.]

Yeah, we’ve come a long way from the days of the rhapsodes.

[she almost-grins behind the glass, then takes a sip of the beer. the fact that murmur doesn’t remove his gloves to experiment with the phone is interesting, and jack wonders what the reason for that is - probably something he’s hiding, right? that’s usually why people wear gloves indoors, unless it’s due to a colder than preferred environmental temperature. not the most pressing question on jack’s mind, though - she hasn’t met many other magic-users here, so she’s interested to learn what he knows. and if he’s inclined to be vague, jack has no qualms about asking directly.]

So ... what’s your story? [she sets her glass down and retrieves her phone, slipping it back inside her vest pocket.] You’re good with divination but bad with technology - is where you’re from still mostly analog, or is that more of a personal aesthetic choice?

A shame. There was a certain quality in the oral traditions that was lost when moving to screen and recording.

[He sipped his tea idly, knowing full well that that was a very strange thing to say for a mortal creature. She's perceptive, he has no illusions that she'll miss that. Just like she hasn't missed most of his other tells so far.

Of course, direct or not, Murmur still intends to be vague. Testing the waters, so to speak. He does not yet fully understand the nature of her being, nor can he guarantee her trustworthiness in more sensitive matters. Treading cautiously is simply in his nature.]

My story? [He asked innocently enough. He made a thoughtful hum through his nose, briefly closing his eyes while he considered how best to answer this question.] The place that I hail from is rather separated from the modern world. However, I imagine that the Thresholding acted as a significant hindrance to technological advancement.

[yeah, that’s definitely weird. a little hipsterish, even, except they’re not talking about the sound quality of vinyl versus mp3, they’re talking about a profession from two and a half millennia ago. and yet he sounds like he knows from personal experience all the same. maybe he’s a historian? jack has a feeling the answer can’t be that simple.]

What happened with the Thresholding? I haven’t heard of it before.

[The oldest hipster she might ever meet. Perhaps if he watched the process of making movies he might enjoy them more. It was that separation of screen and person that sucked the life of enjoyment out of it for him. Granted what immortals found interesting and entertaining could be vastly different from mortals.]

If it happened on your world you would most certainly know. It was a catastrophic event. All manner of beings and creatures formerly believed to be mythological were suddenly, and violently, real. Humans found themselves spontaneously transforming across the world. I am certain you can imagine the chaos of a family member neighbor suddenly turning into a werewolf or vampire.

[hoo boy. if jack were just an ordinary mortal, she might find that idea horrifying, maybe even a little bit cool. but jack is far from ordinary, and she laughs into the next sip of her beer, though it’s not entirely mirthful.]

Yeah, I can imagine the normies would freak over finding out that monsters are real. Then, of course, the Heroes would feel the need to step up and put all the monsters in their place - six feet underground, unless they kept the corpses on display as trophies.

[she huffs quietly in disgust and shakes her head. goddamn heroes ruin so many lives and think they’re not only justified but good for doing so.]

That wouldn’t scare me, though. Vampires and werewolves and whatnot are already Kin for me and my kind.

Normies. [He repeated the word thoughtfully, mulling it over.] Succinct.

[He found he rather liked that word. As for her assessment he nodded.]

Indeed, as expected the retaliation from all sides would result in bloodshed and lives lost en masse. Hunters appeared, but the Thresholding was no singular event. From the first and onward all were then possessed of the potential to threshold. Typically around adolescence.

[He spoke of these things very clinically, as a historian would. No evident bias present in his tone. So disconnected one might have to wonder if he even counted himself among human kind.

Her admission gained his interest and he tilted his head in slight curiosity. Of course he knew she was no human, but he'd play the part of oblivious a while longer yet.]

Your kin, then you are not human yourself? How would you be classified?

Edited 2020-08-11 18:31 (UTC)

[yeah, no surprise at the bloodshed. history is full of it, everywhere - even in this city. unsurprising, but jack’s eyes narrow in disapproval all the same.

it’s only for a moment, though - murmur’s question is one she hasn’t needed to consider for a long time. she hums quietly, considering her thoughts.]

Yes and no. I was born human, but I had an awakening to my true nature when I was twelve years old - sort of like this Thresholding, from how you’ve described it. As for how I’m classified ... the simplest term would be “monster,” though that’s such a catch-all it’s basically useless. More specifically, my clan is called Eshmaki.

[her confession is given freely, without a hint of shame or pride. jack might as well be talking about the color of her hair or the city where she was born. it’s fact, nothing more. the only reason she would need to keep this a secret is if murmur were a hero, and she doesn’t get that vibe from him.]

What about you?

[Her reaction was understandable. The various wars, and slaughters, that waged after the first Thresholding was certainly immense. Heavy losses on all sides, and considering that they had all come from humans, well... One could only reason that the population only further divided and faltered. Man's inhumanity to Man has ever been great.

His attention snapped to her with interest. Something like a Thresholded, but not quite. Now for a change he felt slightly less out of his element.]

Monster is too broad a term, [He agreed.] I would like to learn more of the Eshmaki, if you are willing.

[Ever starving for knowledge, this one, and she was something entirely new. It wasn't often he had the pleasure of experiencing that. As for her question he considered quietly for a time, sipping his tea. She has been honest enough with him, and granted him a wonderful gift, he thinks she has earned the right to know at least the bare minimum.]

Mortals refer to my kind as angels, last I had heard. Celestial would be another accurate term.

[jack is a little surprised to realize she’s actually a bit pleased by the request.]

Sure, I don’t mind at all. You know, I think you might be the first to ask me about this. Most people don’t take me seriously if I mention being Eshmaki - they think I mean I’m a monster in a metaphorical way, or that I’m just making it up for attention, like I’m some kind of weird soulbonder or something.

[she shrugs.]

Anyway, Eshmaki are one of several families of the Dark Mother’s children. The Dark Mother has had many names throughout history and mythology around the world - some call her Tiamat, or Lilith, or Echidna - but she is the mother of all monsters, and her children teach her wisdom through fear - nightmares, specifically. Eshmaki are also called Lurkers, and the nightmares we bring center on Darkness - shadows, the feeling of being watched by something hidden in the dark, stuff like that. We don’t do it just to be assholes, of course - well, most of us don’t, I should say. Hashtag not all monsters. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. The Dark Mother’s children all have a Hunger inside of us, and we keep it fed with fear. So we scare the humans, they feed us and get a little smarter in the process. Everybody wins.

[her face positively lights up with interest when murmur answers her question in turn. there’s not much that manages to surprise her, a semi-jaded millennial, but this admission? this she did not expect.]

Really. I knew you were different, I could tell you weren’t human or Kin, but ... [she laughs and shakes her head.] You’re not one of the God-Machine’s constructs, though, right? I’ve never seen one, just heard stories and rumors, but they’re supposed to be a lot more - hmm, robotic, I think? Like walking algorithms, pieces of computer code in physical form.

A pity to be so close-minded, yet not unsurprising. Such has been the ever growing trend for some time now.

[In his experience, and evidently her own. He looked thoughtful.] would you be a bound soul?

[Evidently he doesn't know what a soul-bonder is, instead taking the term more literally. He brightens as she continues, clearly fascinated by her tale.]

Ah! Lilit, of course that makes perfect sense you are one of hers.

[How amazing! He'd not had the pleasure of meeting Lilit's children in such a long time. Far removed as they were from both Heaven and Hell. Murmur was clearly delighted to learn more about this. He'd like to ask what she meant by "hashtag" but it didn't seem that important right now.]
Fascinating, so you are something of a symbiotic relationship with mortal kind. Of course I imagine they fail to notice the benefits of this relationship, it is their tendency to focus only on the negative.

[He knows how they can be. Skittish, short-sighted creatures. They could embrace such greatness when they put their first instincts aside, yet it was so rare. Usually, individuals were terribly boring because of that.

He looks thoughtful at her question.]

This vessel, [He thumps his chest with a closed fist.] is absolutely a construction. Mortals have a tendency to panic when looking upon our true forms, it makes speaking with them unreasonably difficult. However I have never heard us described as manifested algorithms, yet I cannot claim that as an inaccurate description either. Which is your machine-god?

Edited (Forgot a word) 2020-08-15 06:26 (UTC)

[she’s mid-sip of her drink when he asks that question, and she nearly chokes on it with how hard she laughs.]

Oh, sweetie, it’s not my god. [she laughs again, and wipes at her mouth with the back of her wrist.] I don’t follow any gods - I’ve been an atheist since I was a kid, and an anarchist since high school.

[she reaches up to tug the collar of her shirt down enough for the words inked there to be clearly read: NO GODS NO MASTERS.]

As far as souls are concerned, I have no idea if they’re even real. I’m guessing you’d more of an expert on that one. Either way, it doesn’t really matter much to me.

[He rose an eyebrow mid-sip of his own tea, a faint look that might very well be amusement crossing his features. She was, after all, a supernatural being speaking with an even more supernatural being and yet professing atheism. Fascinating.

Of course, he wasn't there to proselytize to her. It wasn't his place nor his calling. He was only there to observe.]

I can assure you there are most definitely souls. Wars have been fought over them, after all. We do not possess a soul, that is a uniquely mortal gift. [A pause, and a soft hum escaped him.] Or rather... it was.

[Waving that away as if it weren't the strangest thing in the universe to say he fixed his gaze back on her.]

I would still hear of this machine god.

[she doesn’t deny the existence of supernatural beings, even those powerful enough to be worshiped at various times in human history as gods. she even calls on them in her magickal workings if needed, but only as allies, never as superior beings worthy of worship or holding power over her. yes, she’s something of a paradox, and she’s fine with that.]

Wars have been fought over lies and misinformation, too.

[she shrugs, not particularly interested in debating this topic with someone she’s already acknowledged is more well-informed about it.]

The God-Machine is supposedly something like a supercomputer, though nobody knows for fact, since it hadn’t been especially forthcoming with details. Nobody really knows where it came from or when or why, or even what it wants, though there are plenty of cults devoted to figuring that out, human and monster alike. [she counts out on her fingers:] The Seers of the Throne are mages, mostly concerned with controlling all magic like the greedy, oppressive bastards they are. They don’t actively work with it, but their efforts are rumored to dovetail with the God-Machine’s workings from time to time. The werewolves have the Lodge of the Field, and from what I’ve read, the things they worship have a lot of similarities with some of the aspects of the God-Machine. The Holy Engineers probably have the closest association with it - they’re vampires, and they actually receive broadcasts directly from the God-Machine and have to interpret these so-called prophecies within a certain window of time or else it kills them. Rude, right? Doesn’t sound like any kind of god I’d want to follow, if I did want to follow a god.

[she pauses and finishes of the last of her beer.]

This is all rumor and speculation, of course, you know how secretive cults are. I dug up research once for a project I was working on - didn’t exactly pan out, but it wasn’t a total waste. Digging into mysterious occult bullshit can actually be really fun. I think the cult chapters are supposed to be mostly located in the bigger cities, especially out on the coasts, but I never looked into that part too closely. It wasn’t super relevant.

[jack slides her now-empty glass to the side and leans forwards, hands folded on the table in front of her.]

So what did you mean when you said that possessing a soul was a uniquely mortal gift?

[Interesting, very interesting. Fortunately he isn't one to push. If she does not wish to worship that isn't his place. He walks a fine line himself, and would be quite the hypocrite to try to lecture her on such things.

That didn't mean he wouldn't find it amusing, regardless.]

So they have.

[He won't disagree. He also won't debate unless she really wants to get into it. Souls are something Celestials are typically quite knowledgeable on. He's much more interested in knowing if the machine-god is at all similar to the deity he's been created by. Thankfully, it didn't seem so.]

The similarity with our current situation strikes me as an interesting correlation, with your description and our presumed captor.

[Oh, he likes this one. A mortal that enjoyed researching for the joy of research? It wasn't often Murmur had the pleasure of encountering someone who shared an interest so near and dear to his heart. Even his brothers thought his obsession strange, if useful, what with so many of them being warriors and little else. It was in their nature, but that didn't make Murmur's being so vastly different any less lonely.

Not that he'd admit that.]

I would be interested in hearing more about your project at another time, should you be willing. I do believe I've monopolized enough of yours without offering anything in return, we still have a task ahead.

[Assuming she was still willing to accompany him on it. He finally set aside his now empty tea cup, moving to stand. Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't answer her question, only that he intended to do so as they made their way toward the tunnels.]

Come, and I will tell you of the anomaly. Or "abomination" as some of my brethren were so eager to label her.

Edited 2020-08-17 03:33 (UTC)

You know ... you’re totally right. [jack’s entire expression lights up at the possibility.] I hadn’t thought about it that way before. The Head’s a little less cryptic and a lot more outright homicidal, but yeah, they’re actually not so different. The God-Machine seems to have some degree of sentience, by all accounts, and I’d be shocked it if wasn’t alien ...

[maybe she’ll end up doing more research when/if she ever gets home again. that’s for future-jack to tackle, though - current-jack has other plans for tonight, showing her new celestial acquaintance a different set of mysterious occult stuff down in the tunnels.]

Right, I almost forgot how this meetup started in the first place. [she stands, and collects both the empty glass and teacup, intending to return them both to the bar on their way out, because that’s just a nice thing to do to make the bartender’s job a little easier.] But yeah, I can tell you about that project sometime.

[it’s actually nice to be around someone else who’s magick-inclined. jack doesn’t often have the opportunity to talk about spellwork.]

Oh, speaking of “abominations,” I gotta ask - what’s the big guy’s official stance on us queers? Are we too abominations, as the right-wing megachurch Bible-thumping dickheads like to screech?

A hypothesis worthy of pursuit.

[He agrees. Of course that necessitates finding a way back home first. That being part of the quest they were currently on, someday she might just be able to approach it again. Just think, another troublesome AI for her to deal with!

Ah, good, she'd had the same thought of returning the glasses. He's glad to see it, he'll let her take care of that. Though he will pause to thank the bartender before they head out. Then it's off to find these tunnels and study strange sigils.]

I'd like that.

[For as much knowledge he already has, Murmur has an insatiable thirst. One with wisdom never ceases to be a student in their art. There's always more to learn.

He grows quiet at her question, considering how best to answer. Technically he wasn't to influence without specific instruction to do so, but he was permitted to offer comfort, not that he's necessarily good at that. In the grand scheme of things it was so minor, he's sometimes astonished by what mortals fixate on.]

All beings in creation are precisely as they are intended to be.

[He begins, but realizes that might not be a satisfactory answer.]

The capacity for love is one mortal-kind's greatest virtues.

[Yes, he thinks that is sufficient.]

[hey, jack may be a literal monster, but she’s also from the midwest. she’s not always nice, per se, but picking up after herself in a bar is just common courtesy. she and the bartender trade friendly farewells, and she heads toward the door, ambling backwards so she can face murmur with a giant grin stretched across her face.]

If I was still on speaking terms with my aunt, she’d owe me twenty bucks now. She’s one of those aforementioned megachurch dickheads, and she did call me an abomination when she found out I’m gay.

[she turns around to push the door open for them and points to the right to indicate their next direction down the deserted street.]

We had a pretty big yell-fest over that. I bet her the twenty that her God didn’t give a shit about whether I kiss girls, she accepted, real sarcastic-like, and I told her to fuck off straight to the Hell she’s so convinced I’m headed toward. [she shrugs, and slips her hands into the pockets of her jeans.] No great loss. We were never close to begin with, and she was always pretty insufferable, one of those real know-it-all, holier-than-thou types. And she only got more insufferable after my parents died. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

[it’s not that she has a particularly vested interest in what a deity she doesn’t worship thinks of her - it’s just nice to be right.]

[Murmur's spent most of his existence as a demon. He's not very good at being 'nice' either, but he does have his manners. Always has. Sometimes they just come off strange and stiff to mortals.]

Mortals do fixate on the strangest things. I seem to recall a time in which the debate was who was and wasn't allowed to wear pants.

[Really. Just. Honestly? Humans needed to learn to chill even more than his people did. At least angels had the excuse of being very old and resistant to change.

He couldn't say it, even if he wanted to, but the faint smirk Murmur wore spoke of knowing exactly what kind of person she was talking about. And just how surprised they were going to be at the end of their days. Yes, he does believe Jack's aunt owes her a twenty.]

Wasn't one of the tenants 'love thy neighbor' or some such?

[He asked casually, as though he didn't know full well what every single one of them was. In every language it had ever been written in. He followed along, letting his awareness broaden to allow him some forewarning should they encounter anything hostile in their adventure.]

I understand it is typical to offer one's condolences in light of this revelation, yet I have the distinct impression none are needed nor desired in this situation.

[Regarding her parents. Jack spoke so casually one wouldn't even have to be a seer to hear the 'good riddance' in her tone. Not for him to judge. Whatever deity she does or does not worship isn't his place to press. He's too much of a traitor to be particular about such things.]

Oh, yes, speaking on the topic of abominations. You will recall the Thresholding I spoke of?

Oh, don’t even get me started on patriarchal society’s obsessive need for control of women’s bodies, including their clothing. I nearly wrote my thesis on that topic.

[she nods, laughing quietly, and turns to lead murmur down an alleyway. when he revisits the topic of her parents, the smile immediately drops from her face.]

Yeah ... we weren’t that close either. They were both really judgey, strict, hypocritical hardline conservative Christians, and, um - right before they died, I finally decided I was tired of hiding who I am, so I came out to them. And they responded by throwing me out of the house and screaming at me that I wasn’t their daughter. [she shrugs.] So I guess they weren’t my parents anymore. No condolences needed.

[jack puts up a good front of not letting anything bother her most of the time, but this particular topic hits an especially painful nerve for her. she wasn’t close with her parents, didn’t share most of their values or beliefs, but being so violently rejected over such a fundamental part of who she is still hurt a lot - maybe more than anything else in her life so far.]

Anyway, that was like, ten years ago. I’ve done fine on my own.

[that devil-may-care demeanor she’s had for most of the night returns as she draws to a halt in front of a manhole cover. there’s nothing out of the ordinary about it, but the brick wall opposite is covered in a faded mural of flowers and vines surrounding an anatomical heart at the center.]

This is it. [she crouches down to start prying up the manhole cover.] Yeah, what else happened with the Thresholding, besides monsters?

When we have more time I may be inclined to get you started, since you are so well-informed. Human history is a fascinating subject, I would be interested to see how similar our differing worlds are.

[It did seem like an uncomfortable topic for her. It was normal to grieve the rejection of one's parents. It was a unique, particularly harsh cruelty to mistreat one's own offspring. And yet so painfully common. This was one of those times Murmur wished he was still a demon, then he could speak more freely on the topic of his own Father.]

Commendations, then, instead. On your resilience. They were unworthy.

[But, he'll touch no more on such a sensitive topic. Not while they have work yet to do. He can tell it hurts her to speak on such matters, and it would be unkind to persist and press such a sore spot.

His attention was drawn to the mural. Beautiful, and clearly holding deep meaning. He filed it away to question her on after he answered a few of his own for a change.]

Typically the Thresholded would become beings that were still mortal, or at least had been mortal. Monsters, for example being among them. Or simply developing strange and unusual powers. [Mutants, though he didn't know if the term would translate well.]

One, however, Thresholded into an angel. The first angel with a soul, born of flesh, and possessing true free-will.

[He's certain she can guess how quickly that turned into chaos. With Heaven and Hell both vying for command of this new, unique soul. Before he could elaborate further his attention was drawn down the alley, eyes narrowing dangerously as he moved away from the mural to plant himself between whatever it was he sensed and Jack.]

I believe something would impede our investigation. How versed are you in combat?

Edited (html fail) 2020-08-24 11:31 (UTC)

[jack knows about mutants! not only has she read a few comic books in her time and seen movies based on said comic books, she has observed them in action, right here in dualis. but that’s not really the important part of what murmur’s telling her. she finishes pushing the manhole cover to the side and stands up again, brushing her hands off on her jeans.]

Angel with a soul ... sounds like a recipe for a paradox. I hear those tend to turn out real messy.

[which, she guesses, is what happened with the central figure of the story she’s being told. but whatever’s suddenly taken murmur’s interest cuts her off from asking more.]

Unless we’re talking World of Warcraft? Not very. I mean, I’ve taken some self-defense classes, but those usually assume your attacker has squishy bits and feels pain.

[which would not be the case if what’s about to roll up on them is iterations.]

[It's not, though they can absolutely revisit the conversation another time. When they're not about to be accosted by angry police brutality robots.]

Extremely.

[He would love to elaborate further, unfortunately they had some uninvited guests rolling up on them at alarming speed. No souls that he could detect, which was well. In fact... so much better than well. Because that meant he had no requirement whatsoever to hold back. Perhaps he now had just the excuse to test out his regained power.]

Is that one of those video games you'd been telling me about?

[Strangely, or perhaps not so much, Murmur sounded completely calm. Utterly unconcerned, even as the Iterations came blazing around a corner down the alley. True, he could have grabbed Jack and simply... flown away. But what would be the fun in that? No, he thinks a warning is in order.]

In that case I suggest you stay back. These do not strike me as possessing either of those qualities.

[Murmur shifted his stance, folding his hands behind his back to wait patiently for the Iterations to approach, curious to see if they would be hostile first, or attempt to demand compliance. He had his own compliance he wished to demand.]

Heed me, empty vessels!

[His voice boomed, not like thunder or trumpets as one might have expected of an angel, but instead like the pounding of storm-tossed waves upon sheer cliffs. A voice that could be felt as much as heard, with a power to back the warning it spoke. Murmur was pleased to find that instead of the roar he'd come to expect he could once again muster the voice of the divine. It has been far too long.

Around them the temperature had dropped sharply. Glittering ice crystals of flash-frozen moisture in the air caught reflections of street lights, forming a shimmering ethereal fog.]

Your interference will not be suffered. Begone! Return to your master.

[Not that he let it show, but Murmur hoped they'd refuse. Just so he'd have a good excuse to smite the hell out of them.]

Yep, exactly. Smashing’s a lot easier when you’re about twice my actual height and made of computer code.

[jack isn’t exactly panicking either; there are a couple of factors on her side, namely that she has made herself invisible to technological surveillance. were she alone, all she would need to do is stay still until the iterations passed, and she could be on her way.

murmur is ... a different story. somehow, his actions to meet the iterations head-on fail to surprise her, though she will admit he is quite impressive. she shivers - not entirely a result of the rapid temperature change - and takes a step backward.]

Well ... OK, I was gonna suggest just heading down into the tunnels, since they can’t follow us, but I guess that’s also an action you can take.

[not the one she would’ve chosen; she favors staying hidden in the shadows. and now the head will know exactly what murmur can do, if it didn’t already.]

I can cast a shield wall, unless you really want to take these metalheads all on at once, by yourself.

[they don’t seem to be stopping.]

[He imagines light and pure divine energy would probably also act as a pretty strong opposition. One he intends to put to the test, if only slightly. Wouldn't want to reveal all his cards in one go, but just enough to send a message.

That message being: He isn't afraid of the Head, and will not tolerate harassment from his constructs.]

Fear not.

[He reassures quietly, though he does nod to indicate she should be prepared just in case he has miscalculated.

Murmur, however, very rarely miscalculates. He certainly doesn't take risks he hasn't thoroughly considered. These? Are nothing more than toys to him. Playthings with which he can stretch long unused magical muscles in a bid to test the strength of his own regeneration. They will not trouble them long.]

So be it.

[He boomed, finally unclasping his hands to raise one arm.]

Conserve your energy, there will be no need for that now.

[He reassured, back to the quieter monotone that was his usual speaking voice. With a simple gesture and flick of his wrist ice spikes formed along the street, charging and encircling the rapidly approaching Iterations. Those aimed to pin and freeze them to the ground to halt their advance.

But he wasn't finished, a muttered word and another gesture whipped up a vicious windstorm, one filled with shards of razor-sharp ice like glass to pelt at an alarming speed down upon the machines. It would shred a being of flesh in mere seconds, something metal... slightly longer. Probably only slightly with the ferocity of that focused blast.

And truth be told it looked like such an exercise took little to no effort from him. This was merely a small taste of the power he could unleash. Practice, and a warning. Murmur wasn't interested in playing games.]

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