《Give me my lily pad back.》Plotting pandemonium.
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Wannashowa gazed down into his scrying pool (OK OK so calling a frog pond that may be a bit grandiose, but you did what you could with what you had right?”) A look of concern writ large across his froggy features. “Ohhh I do not like the looks of this,” he muttered to himself, elemental order was a bane to gods. If that weirdo cultist had been taught properly about his own religion he would probably have realised this. But as is often the case with niche cults what he had been raised on had been carefully curated so as not to interfere with their parents beliefs. Who had curated it previously to not interfere with their beliefs, and by the time you got far enough back there was probably a single word of the original belief left. (Which brings about the conundrum of the Cult Of Theseus.)
“Not a mortal thing I can do about it either,” he mumbled to himself (knowing that immortal things he could do about it were not an option unless he wished to invoke the ire of the Gods Union, he was already at his allotted quota of miracles per person for now due to the saving a whole species thing. Because sure the Caymen worshipped him, but until they came of age that worship was not applicable. This was to prevent abuse of power via indoctrination, and while he agreed with it it still stung after how far he’d gone into the red for a few days to save them, worth it to do the right thing, but still OUCH.) He’d considered sending a vision, but there was nothing he could show that they hadn’t already figured out without getting into oracle territory, and that got pricey. (Gods hate spoilers, and he had visions of attempting it ending badly for him.)
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“I GOT EM, I GOT EM, FINALLY.” came a muttered voice accompanied by a rather mucky looking angel, clutching a bottle, inside of which a fly buzzed angrily about. Cassie glowered at the bottle once more. “You wouldn’t believe the time I had capturing this little bugger, but here’s your order, one witchy bluebottle, in a blue bottle to go.
Wannashowa glared at the bottle then gave a rather large grin. “Now Here’s something I can do.” He reached over, and let them out of the bottle, then there was a weird flash of light, followed by an explosion, and a rather soggy looking witch was deposited in front of Wannashowa.
For obvious reasons after the last few weeks spent as a fly she was somewhat perturbed to find herself in the presence of a giant frog, and tried to fly away. (Without her broom or wings mind you,) landing facedown in a muddy miserable heap it took a little longer for her mind to take a detailed appraisal of her appendages. Then notice the pointy hat upon her head (typically flies don’t wear those.) Then the waterworks hit, as Delia the witch realised that there was only one reason this could happen. She was in the presence of a god.
Thus spake the Great God Wannashowa, “I think it’s time you and I had a little talk.”
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Mibbet was incredibly agitated at this point in time (and understandably so,) an evil, evil man was attempting to bring a state of total order to the city, a perpetual state of an-anarchy did not sound like fun.
“What’s got you so freaked about this?” Elvira asked.
“Let me ask you a question have you ever broken a rule because it was the right thing to do?”
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“Yeah and more than a few for fu........... OH BOLLOCKS” Elvira went pale.
“Imagine a world where everybody obeys the rules perfectly, forever.”
“Do I have to?” Elvira whimpered, having completely decimated every rule ever written on the subject of Princessly etiquette and behaviour multiple times over the thought of being forced to comply with them for the rest of time really did not appeal to her. Then there were the rules that dictated what a girl should, and should not do, (most of them were in Elvira’s personal opinion complete piles of crap, but they were still rules, which meant they would have to be obeyed.) The rules for how to treat suitors (apparently hanging them upside down by their ankles from the parapet was not permitted no matter how often they insisted on hitting on you while bragging about their dads land as if it was already theirs. What did it matter anyway? Most of these suitors would be assassinated by their siblings in one power struggle or another long before they could ever really become her problem.) The rules set by tutors (sooo many ruuullleeesssss) all told a girl had many rules forced on them already. A Princess even more so, it was all they could do to find the loopholes and abuse the hell out of them already, she did not need that making any worse.
“So how do we stop it?” Elvira pleaded, really, really hoping that Rosalind had a plan this time, because if not they were royally stuffed.
“Well there are a few ways, first off we need to build a proper resistance, we need people to pull this off.”
“I’m already working on that, but recruiting isn’t easy, they’ve made it so people get rewarded for turning each other in.” Eileen muttered. “I can talk to other architects who’ve been mucking up the structures.
Mibbet winced, nothing created a grass faster than making it seem like everybody was doing it, when you’re being constantly watched it’s easier to assume that everybody else is, and in doing so justify turning them in under the belief that they’d do it to you too. Pettiness was a dangerous thing. “See who you can drag out, while we try to sabotage the summoning square as best we can. Hopefully that’ll buy us some time.”
“And after that?” Elvira asked.
“After that we work together to convince the forces of order they don’t want us, now who’s up for a little chaos?” Rosalind said with a grin.
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