Planeside

[Rebonack]

[Primordial Bog]

Okay yeah. She's definitely talking about Lord Butt-face.

Khannie doesn't get the impression that Kol likes him very much.

But then shrill noises happen. And then the lady is clothed which is SOMETHING at least. There are some pretty normal questions asked and then a question that is DEFINITELY going down the wrong road which makes Khannie blush (again) as soon as she hops off Kol. She's got her back hooves at least right now, which means instead of sinking into the mire up to her knees she just... stops. Right on the surface as if she weren't touching anything at all.

Thank goodness for unicorn magic.

"Oh, uh, we're not... y'know," Khannie manages to get out before this situation (hopefully) gets too much worse. She FEELS really attracted to Kol but they aren't an item. It's just a dumb crush. It'll go away eventually. And who cares anyway Kol isn't into anyone as far as Khannie can tell.

Aaaand now she's getting hurried into the tree-house.

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

Kol allows Adea to hug his giant dragon face but is definitely looking pretty awkward.
"Um. We're not dating. Khannie's boyfriend is Arthfael. The Maesdan from our school? Um."
Kol turns awkwardly to Khannie.
"Are you guys still dating ever since he kind of...?" Stopped going to school because he got killed and came back as a different person or something? Kol hasn't really been given the details.

"But besides Mom, have any of my siblings ever actually gotten dates?"

[Ironsmith]

[Primordial Bog]

"Oooh, right, that boy." The silver-haired woman grins. "Are you, now? That is so sweet." She grins and gives Khannie a little nudge in the ribs. "You're gonna love the day he turns twenty. Big epiphany around then."

The woman continues to grin even as she ushers the two of them into her mostly-empty house. Its interior is, in broad strokes, exactly as Kol remembers... paintings in various stages of conpletion line the walls, a corner with an easel and palette have been set aside as her sort of studio, and in the corner, there's a silvery, sci-fi styled box that looks a bit like it might be an oven.

"Well, you aren't really like your siblings, Kol." The woman goes on to explain. "None of them have anything at all resembling a sex drive. I mean they do, but it's all internal. Skummring's bits are really only interested in each other. Same with Pox, Timiditus, Chronia... it gets a little murky at our scale. Who exactly could be time's lover? Or humanity's?" She shrugs. "I mean, the whole reason mortals have it is to make more things that are like them. But your siblings and I don't really want to make more things that are like us, you know? And even if we did, we can, with or without a partner. But you... you're half-human, it's a whole other matter, really. Cookie?"

The silver-haired woman is, at present, holding out a tray full of them, to Khannie and Kol both. Chocolate chip, it looks like.

[Rebonack]

[Primordial Bog]

"I'm trying to help him get better," Khannie admits to Kol. "I dunno if our idea is gunna work, but we're trying. I don't... I mean. Even if he gets better I dunno if he'll even be the same. We're... friends..."

And that's better than nothing, right?

It has to be.

Khannie also raises an eyebrow at the epiphany comment. And takes the cookie since it would be rude not to.

"What did you mean, someone had fun putting me together? I don't think anyone put me together."

Is that true? Maybe it is! She wasn't born the typical way, after all. She just started existing since Jace got turned into a kangaskhan and an adult kangakshan always comes with a baby. Khannie was just so tiny at the time that Jace didn't even notice until the effect was ended and Khannie got whisked away.

She doesn't comment on angel dragon whatever sex drive because that is a weird as heck topic.

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

"He can't turn twenty anyway. Not physically. None of the Maesdans can age anymore." Kol almost adds "because of what Step-Father had to do without you" but he bites that back because he doesn't want to ruin the whole mood early.
Or is Adea suggesting that Arthfael has to realize stuff about himself? Like he's also into boys? Or unicorns? Either way it's not really going to happen with Arthfael mind-wiped and cursed in about three different ways. One of which is totally her fault.
"...Eos didn't mention Timiditus." A dragon of timidity? "Or Pox. Did you make a dragon of sickness?" That just seems rude to everyone else on the planet.
"I still don't even really get what you mean by that. By all accounts there wasn't a deed or anything. You just kinda made me. So it's not like that really makes me human just because The Serial Killer was there at the time and Absum wasn't."

[Ironsmith]

[Primordial Bog]

"Don't be silly! Time still passes. Someday, Arthfael Percival Ty-Maldwyn will have been around for twenty years, and when that happens, I envy whomever he's with at the time." She leans over to whisper an aside to Khannie. "Don't worry, that isn't a euphemism or anything. Just being there will be enough."

The cookies, Khannie will soon discover, taste like apple and cinnamon. Neat.

The silver-haired woman shakes her head at Kol's remark about a "dragon of sickness". "Oh, no, not at all. Your sister Pox tries very hard; the poor dear just gets a little confused sometimes. If you ever meet enough of her to talk to, I'd advise not bringing it up. Nobody likes being defined by what they think of as their screw-ups."

She kneels in front of Khannie and starts examining her more closely, gently prodding her in a few places, seemingly just to get a reaction out of her. "And you were certainly put together, you lovely little thing. Quite skillfully, too. I can see here the work of someone with an excellent sense of humor, not to mention a few... other desirable qualities." The silver-haired lady chews at her lip, seemingly idly wondering if the goddess behind Khannie's creation was seeing anybody.

"...Really, such can be said of all of us." She continues, blinking back to reality. "Even me. We all get little bits of our creators in us. Some we notice, some we don't, some kind of... emerge from bits meeting in a way nobody really intended. It's why I still say you're half-human, Kol... one of the hands that made you was human. I don't know the full extent of Braeg's contributions, but they're there!"

[Rebonack]

[Primordial Bog]

When Adea leans in close and whisper at Khannie the girl in turn leans away.

Is this is rule?

Do all these chaos goddess have to be complete weirdos?

"That sounds... cool?" Khannie replies hesitantly, otherwise not really sure how to respond to that. But then she's being closely scrutinized. Khannie is, of course, connected to SEVERAL primordial engines of creation. Not just the Dreamheart, either. Likewise whatever nameless realm of blackness and seething potentiality Magic Girls are endowed by Kyubie to draw upon. The Distortion World, the cosmic sea of the pokemon reality, is in there too. As is Discordia, the equivalent from the Equestrian reality. Through her father's world there's a connection to the Maelstrom. The later three are the most purely engraved in what she is. The others seem to be more recent additions. And however she was 'put together' seems to have been intended to capture of the flow of similar seas of primordial darkness.

Khannie is a confluence of celestial oceans, all flowing together and mingling their waters to create...?

Something.

It isn't clear what. At least not yet.

"Umm... So you created stuff, right? I know my magic is creation-y. Like the darkness from before there was stuff. Is that a thing you know a lot about?" Khannie asks.

[Keeper]

Primordial Boss

All the oceans? Sorry, Khannie. That means you're probably a primordial superfish. There's worse things to be. Kol likes fish.
"Well, we do have creation stuff. That is where the fish come from."
Kol shrugs his wings at Adea's explanation.
"Well. We'll see. I don't- nevermind." No, this is about Khannie. Kol is not going to ruin the moment by reminding Adea that his dad is an absolute monster. At this point, Kol thinks that if he got anything from Braeg, it's that he inherited enough intelligence to at least be able to tell that, unlike her. And Kol honestly thinks he's kinda dumb so...

[bc56]

Typhon
Kothar recognizes one thing. The portal back home is falling apart.
He's not going to wait. Getting electrocuted is no fun, but being trapped who-knows-where is worse, so he abandons self-defense and tries to leap through the portal back to Inside before it can close.

This is not a good idea. It's got to be more than high enough to kill someone, by a large margin.
He'll live. Probably. But it's going to hurt. A lot.

[Hraithre]

[Typhon]

Half of the infernal contraption might not fall on Nexus. There's a line where thr swordsman's attack passed, imperceptibly thin at first, but then the edge gives in under the weight and that line opens into a yawning black chasm. Air rushes into the emptiness, and the swordsman moves with it, running up those invisible stairs. He draws his other sword as well and begins hacking the falling contraption into smaller and smaller chunks. These smaller cuts are not as refined as the first, sometimes they fail to split a chunk and instead bat them against other chunks with tremendous force. He keeps this up as long as he can.

[Rebonack]

[Typhon]

Aaaand Kothar bails.

Getting through the portal isn't too difficult at this point, but it is also a LONG way down. We're definitely talking terminal velocity distances here. But hey, fall damage caps out at 20d6 right? Surely Kothar can take that.

The swordsman, meanwhile, begins dicing up chunks of the machine and casting them into the void! Or at least some of them. Most of its weight is in the impossibly long chain it launched into the Nexus and its length is (maybe?) outside the swordsman's reach. Some of the parts vanish into the hole in reality while others fall through the destabilizing riftgate.

Also?

The cultists totally notice him now.

Which means he's got orbs of ball lightning getting tossed his way from several directions at once.

[Ironsmith]

[Primordial Bog]

When Adea leans in close and whisper at Khannie the girl in turn leans away.

Is this is rule?

Do all these chaos goddess have to be complete weirdos?

"That sounds... cool?" Khannie replies hesitantly, otherwise not really sure how to respond to that. But then she's being closely scrutinized. Khannie is, of course, connected to SEVERAL primordial engines of creation. Not just the Dreamheart, either. Likewise whatever nameless realm of blackness and seething potentiality Magic Girls are endowed by Kyubie to draw upon. The Distortion World, the cosmic sea of the pokemon reality, is in there too. As is Discordia, the equivalent from the Equestrian reality. Through her father's world there's a connection to the Maelstrom. The later three are the most purely engraved in what she is. The others seem to be more recent additions. And however she was 'put together' seems to have been intended to capture of the flow of similar seas of primordial darkness.

Khannie is a confluence of celestial oceans, all flowing together and mingling their waters to create...?

Something.

It isn't clear what. At least not yet.

"Umm... So you created stuff, right? I know my magic is creation-y. Like the darkness from before there was stuff. Is that a thing you know a lot about?" Khannie asks.

Primordial Boss

All the oceans? Sorry, Khannie. That means you're probably a primordial superfish. There's worse things to be. Kol likes fish.
"Well, we do have creation stuff. That is where the fish come from."
Kol shrugs his wings at Adea's explanation.
"Well. We'll see. I don't- nevermind." No, this is about Khannie. Kol is not going to ruin the moment by reminding Adea that his dad is an absolute monster. At this point, Kol thinks that if he got anything from Braeg, it's that he inherited enough intelligence to at least be able to tell that, unlike her. And Kol honestly thinks he's kinda dumb so...

[Primordial Bog]

"...Do I know about the Dark Before?" The silver-haired woman smiles. "Why, I'm so very glad you asked."

And just like that, the entire hut disappears, as though someone had clicked off the lightswitch and sent the domicile away along with the lights. There's nothing here anymore, apart from an infinite blackness in every direction.

"That's just one name for it, of course." The woman's voice reverberates through the void. "There are as many others as there are names. The Realm of Shadow. The Void. The Abyss. The Unmarked Canvas. The Unwoven Threads. A place of nowhere, in a time before time, full of everything and nothing, waiting to be given form. And so many have given it form... yet the Dark remains virginal, untouched by any hands at all, irrespective of its many shapes. There is, after all, plenty of nothing to go around; more so, the more one takes."

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

Kol glances around. He's not really scared of the dark, though it's a little unsettling in this case.
"And where did you come from, Mom? Did you come from the dark or did you have god-parents?"
Kol actually knows that she apparently has a dad but he doesn't want to blab that he was eavesdropping.

[Rebonack]

[Primordial Bog]

Khannie, though still smarting a bit about her earlier argument with Kol about creation myths, does not point out that she was right. That would be kinda mean, after all. Better to be gracious in victory.

Also?

Khannie's illusion sublimes into the darkness, revealing the purple unicorn below it. She doesn't seem terribly surprised by this? She already knows that exposing her illusions to raw shadow stuff can make 'em get goopy. There's a whole lotta magic that melts when Khannie blasts it with raw chaotic primordium.

She doesn't look afraid.

Or feel afraid.

She hasn't... really BEEN into a formless void before, aside from her brief transit through the Distortion World when she was a tiny little baby. But somehow the Dark Before feels safe and comfortable and familiar to her. Without even thinking about it, some of the nothing begins to gently seep into her horn as she tastes the shadow here to feel what it's like. Every cosmic sea is a little different, but Khannie can't help but wonder if they all ultimately flow from the same source.

"It's potential," Khannie says as she gazes off into the abyss, her tail swishing behind her. "The Norse word for it's kinda funny. Ginnungagap. It's kinda hard to translate but it's something like 'magically-charged space?' Like a spring that's all coiled up. But instead of just unspringing it wants to spring out into new things."

[Hraithre]

[Typhon]

When the swordsman notices the orbs of lightning converging on his position, he stops. Like the winds, the projectiles hit the wall of his spiritual power and are directed along a circular path, funneled upwards. But, he'd hate to let all that potential energy go to waste, so he points his shorter sword at a mass of cultists and utters a short spell. "Path of Destruction: Pale Lightning!" Lightning strikes from the center of the whirlwind towards the ground, forming a channel for all the electricity to follow.

[Rebonack]

[Typhon]

That's a pretty big zot.

The cultists are pretty well insulated against lighting thanks in large part to where they seem to like hanging out, but they don't particularly LIKE getting blasted by a lightning strike either. Rather than killing them outright like such a bolt normally would they're instead stunned by the sudden shock. They're going to take some time to recover, which will give the swordsman plenty of opportunity to finish his work.

[Hraithre]

[Typhon]

But what work is there to be finished? The machine is shattered, its heavier pieces already fallen into other worlds while the smaller ones are being scattered by the storm winds. The swordsman could stay and keep carving up the corpse of this god, forcing it to surrender each soul it has taken one by one, but it would take a lifetime, if such a task would have an end at all.

But, the cultists themselves, them the swordsman can take with him. So he descends on his stunned foes, striking them down without hesitation. May they have better luck in their next lives.

[Ironsmith]

Primordial Bog

Kol glances around. He's not really scared of the dark, though it's a little unsettling in this case.
"And where did you come from, Mom? Did you come from the dark or did you have god-parents?"
Kol actually knows that she apparently has a dad but he doesn't want to blab that he was eavesdropping.

[Primordial Bog]

Khannie, though still smarting a bit about her earlier argument with Kol about creation myths, does not point out that she was right. That would be kinda mean, after all. Better to be gracious in victory.

Also?

Khannie's illusion sublimes into the darkness, revealing the purple unicorn below it. She doesn't seem terribly surprised by this? She already knows that exposing her illusions to raw shadow stuff can make 'em get goopy. There's a whole lotta magic that melts when Khannie blasts it with raw chaotic primordium.

She doesn't look afraid.

Or feel afraid.

She hasn't... really BEEN into a formless void before, aside from her brief transit through the Distortion World when she was a tiny little baby. But somehow the Dark Before feels safe and comfortable and familiar to her. Without even thinking about it, some of the nothing begins to gently seep into her horn as she tastes the shadow here to feel what it's like. Every cosmic sea is a little different, but Khannie can't help but wonder if they all ultimately flow from the same source.

"It's potential," Khannie says as she gazes off into the abyss, her tail swishing behind her. "The Norse word for it's kinda funny. Ginnungagap. It's kinda hard to translate but it's something like 'magically-charged space?' Like a spring that's all coiled up. But instead of just unspringing it wants to spring out into new things."

[Primordial Bog]

"Ginnungagap." The voice muses. "I like that. Okay, then. Yes, it's Ginnungagap. Although it might be easier still to think of it as... sameness. And it's within the power of creators like myself to... nudge it a bit. Like running your fingers through sand. And when you make one place less same as all the others..."

There's a brilliant flash of light as a hole seems to tear open in the darkness, a white outline appearing around its edges as a shape slowly swirls into being; something resembling a cross between a disc and a starfish, with an orbular center and a series of flat, triangular "arms" that move in circles around it, rotating serenely in the empty void.

"...That's when interesting things begin to happen." The goddess chortles.

As the void slowly fades away and Kol and Khannie again find themselves standing in the hovel in the middle of the swamp, the silver-haired woman sets the new creation aside, adjusting it in its frame and giving the canvas an affectionate stroke with her finger. "...Reaching into the void like that... molding new things into being... it's an intoxicating experience." She breathes. "...I've found it's difficult for a lot of mortals to really understand how true that is. The whole idea sits just outside their comprehension. I can only imagine what goes through the head of whatever would create a goddess like me as readily as I create worlds like this one."

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

"Well, that's not quite how you and me did it together. But I guess it was just one step away."
Kol didn't consider it that intoxicating. It was kind of cool but not worth the responsibility that followed.

[Rebonack]

[Primordial Bog]

Sameness. That doesn't seem wrong. But it isn't a dead sorta sameness, Khannie is sure of that. "Not all sameness things are the same though, right? Like... The darkness I know wants to become something. Dead sameness just sits and does nothing, like its becoming has been all used up."

Then a flash!

Is that...

A galaxy? Or a planetary nebula? Khannie isn't totally sure since she's only taken, like, one astronomy class and she doesn't really have any context for the size of the thing that she's looking at.

Before Khannie really has a chance to make sense of what she's experiencing they're back in the hut again and Kol's mom is touching her painting. Khannie opens her mouth to ask another question, only to close it again. She hesitates, an oddity for her. But it isn't long before she works up the will to ask, "Is it... weird that someone like me can do what I do? I mean... I only make stuff that's small. And it usually doesn't last very long."


[Typhon]

The poor cultists are slaughtered without a great deal of difficulty; they're absolutely no match for the swordsman. Though, unless he acts, their departing breath will be caught up int he tempestuous winds of the dead (sleeping?) god.

The portal is badly destabilized at this point. Unless the swordsman moves quickly it will collapse in on itself and he'll have to find another way out of this stormy hell.

[Ironsmith]

Primordial Bog

"Well, that's not quite how you and me did it together. But I guess it was just one step away."
Kol didn't consider it that intoxicating. It was kind of cool but not worth the responsibility that followed.

[Primordial Bog]

Sameness. That doesn't seem wrong. But it isn't a dead sorta sameness, Khannie is sure of that. "Not all sameness things are the same though, right? Like... The darkness I know wants to become something. Dead sameness just sits and does nothing, like its becoming has been all used up."

Then a flash!

Is that...

A galaxy? Or a planetary nebula? Khannie isn't totally sure since she's only taken, like, one astronomy class and she doesn't really have any context for the size of the thing that she's looking at.

Before Khannie really has a chance to make sense of what she's experiencing they're back in the hut again and Kol's mom is touching her painting. Khannie opens her mouth to ask another question, only to close it again. She hesitates, an oddity for her. But it isn't long before she works up the will to ask, "Is it... weird that someone like me can do what I do? I mean... I only make stuff that's small. And it usually doesn't last very long."

[Primordial Bog]

"Well, yes and no." The silver-haired lady gives Kol an affectionate stroke down the back of his neck. "It is the same process, just shown differently. Mortals often have a remarkably difficult time comprehending the act of creation, so we- or at least, I- tend to use a lot of metaphors to make it easier. When we made your world together..." She pauses to think about it. "...Dear me, I don't think I ever heard its name. Hm." She shrugs, moving past that detail for now. "When we built that world, I was reaching into the void to work your will. Had that gone on for more than a few minutes, I had planned on showing you how to reach in yourself... but as you don't seem entirely comfortable with that, I saw no point in pressing the matter."

Then her attention turns back to Khannie, still smiling. "In a sense, it's the most natural ability one can have. To the point where it's a touch surprising more people don't have it." She gives the unicorn a little pat. "By mortal standards, perhaps it is a little 'weird'. But 'weird' doesn't always mean 'bad' or 'wrong' or anything of the sort. It's okay to be weird." The silver-haired lady shrugs. "As for it all being small and temporary... by some standards, what I do is small and temporary. Everybody starts somewhere and there's no sense in being ashamed of it."

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

"Well. I guess it's fine if we're just making stuff." Kol concludes after a few seconds to think.
"I just don't want to get people involved on a whim. People deserve better than that." That's where he's going to leave it. He doesn't want to push Adea too much. The name of his world, he remains tight-lipped about. He'd answer if pressed but...for now that's a secret between him and his people.

[Rebonack]

[Primordial Bog]

Ah, see, Khannie suspected that the painting thing was a metaphor.

Not that she had any proof or whatever but it was a hunch and her intuitions are often times on the nose. Not always. But often.

When she gets patted on the head the unicorn's ears flatten out a little, splaying off to the side while she dons an expression of long suffering tolerance. Khannie definitely doesn't want people to think of her as a beast nor treat her as one, but sometimes petting and patting can be really hard to resist.

"I'm not... I dunno I'm not ashamed of it. The stuff I've been able to make has been getting bigger and more permanent as I get older. And... I think I've been tapping into more of these void thingies as I've bumped into 'em? Like every time I run into a new cosmic ocean my horn's sucking up the darkness. I could feel it happening when you were showing us how you work."

She isn't sure what that means.

Just as she isn't sure just how different all these cosmic seas really are. The words and stories about them are a little different but they still seem like the same idea.

[Hraithre]

[Typhon]

The swordsman worries not of the portal closing. He is certain that he can make his own way back when he wants to.

He instead focuses on his task. The wind is threatening to take the breaths of the deceased? Well, two can play that game. So, after putting the last cultists to the sword, he stops and inhales... one impossibly long breath, as if his lungs are as limitless as the void between worlds. Breath is life is spirit, and as a Grim Reaper, he has come to take those away from this slumbering beast.

[Ironsmith]

[Primordial Bog]

"Oh good~!" The silver-haired lady croons, offering Khannie and Kol both another headpat each; at least neither has to live with the knowledge they're being singled out. "And that sounds like you're well on your way to becoming a creator yourself. I won't sit here and pretend to know for certain- it's probably different for everyone- but that certainly sounds encouraging."

The silver-haired lady smiles and claims a seat, sitting in a rocker next to her paintings. "If you're really curious, I would suggest asking your mother about the finer details. She would probably know better than I would."

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

”Being a creator is a big responsibility.” Kol says quietly. Mostly to Khannie but still.

”I think Khannie said her mom is the type to not explain things before they happen. Or show up in general.” Of course Khannie’s mom tells her things and is around all the time. Her mother, not so much. Kol does not know the distinction.

[Rebonack]

[Typhon]

There is one very fortunate aspect here in the favor of the Reaper.

While Typhon is inestimably powerful, the entity is not aware.

As he siphons up the spirits of those slain he'll get the distinct impression that if the storm serpent were acting against him this task would be impossible. As it is, he simply receives far more resistance than there ought to be. An eerie calm falls around the swordsman while all about the storm rages.

With a dull thump the portal out destabilizes and collapses.

Now he truly IS trapped here. He'll have to find his own way out.


[Primordial Bog]

Oh no more headpats.

"I dunno if that's what's going on, either. My... mother isn't really a creator? I mean maybe she could be but I don't think that's her thing."

More of a making things very silly and weird-er.

But that advice pulls a sour look from the unicorn, her tail lashing behind her. "Yeah but then I would have to talk with Fortuna."

It sounds like she doesn't really relish that idea.

At all.

[Hraithre]

[Typhon]

Indeed, while the man is a Grim Reaper, he is not the Grim Reaper. He would not be able to fight this behemoth on equal footing.

Not yet, at least.

After a good long while, the swordsman exhales and relaxes. The air is released from his grasp and the winds resume howling as they usually do. So many souls remain, but his part is done, for now.

So, he again angles his strike at that unseen seam between worlds, and cuts across with both of his blades, creating a pathway just for himself. Following steps that only exists where he wills them, he plunges into the void between worlds and disappears from the slumbering beast's back.

Now he only has to find his way back to that foreign world of Nexus - past all the other worlds where a hapless wanderer might stumble through the dark...

[Ironsmith]

Primordial Bog

”Being a creator is a big responsibility.” Kol says quietly. Mostly to Khannie but still.

”I think Khannie said her mom is the type to not explain things before they happen. Or show up in general.” Of course Khannie’s mom tells her things and is around all the time. Her mother, not so much. Kol does not know the distinction.

[Primordial Bog]

Oh no more headpats.

"I dunno if that's what's going on, either. My... mother isn't really a creator? I mean maybe she could be but I don't think that's her thing."

More of a making things very silly and weird-er.

But that advice pulls a sour look from the unicorn, her tail lashing behind her. "Yeah but then I would have to talk with Fortuna."

It sounds like she doesn't really relish that idea.

At all.

[Primordial Bog]

"...Oh, dear." The silver-haired woman's smile fades as she takes in Khannie's reaction. "...That would be a problem, wouldn't it? It sounds like you and... Fortuna aren't on speaking terms just now." She gives Khannie a small, sad smile. "Sorry to hear that. I hope things get better between you two soon."

She turns and takes a seat in a nearby chair (that was always there, you can't prove otherwise) and pats her lap, offering the space to Kol. "Well, in that case, I suppose I can still fill in some answers while you're here. I don't know much about the world you come from, but I do know a thing or two about creators in general. What else is on your mind?"

[Keeper]

Primordial Bog

Kol curls up around Adea’s chair. He’s not really feeling like enduring the pain of shifting just to sit on his mom’s lap like a toddler. But if she does insist on holding his head he isn’t going to fight her too much.

”Honestly it sounds more like crazy stuff just happens to Khannie and her family are along for the ride even if they are also super magic.” he suggests.