Chapter 10: "Intermission."
Classified Log: I'm not sure what to say other than this laser gun is a technological masterpiece! It recharges in daylight, it's as durable as Orginium alloys, and no matter how many times we've shot with it, it hasn't burned through its barrel. I'm almost afraid of dismantling it, even though every instinct in my brain is screaming to tinker more. Though, I think the most concerning part is how it doesn't use Arts in order to effectively use it. Whoever made this was ready for it to fulfill its purpose. To kill. —Closure.
Across the desert seas, in a city of steam-powered ingenuity, was but a single actor of a story far grander than any on Terra could ever hope to see. It was not because Terra had no stories to play out nor any pieces of literature that were magnificent, no sir. But the stories this bard of the cosmos could tell were of a time before humanity, after the fall of a grand civilization.
When She-Who-Thirsts arrived on the stage.
And how strange this man was, for he was slender, dextrous, uncanny. His mask bore the same tear-painted smile it always did while his clothes were that of a checkered rainbow, bearing no resemblance to any one Masque.
He stuck out like a Solitaire in the many infamous retails of The Dance Without End in this human city. Only, he never really could reach that dreaded role—not that Iukari minded. Indeed, the life of a Solitaire was simply too… boring for his tastes.
They were always alone, weren't the talkative sort, and truly had an unfortunate lack of meaningful relationships with others. Plus, Iukari would never in his life take up the dreaded role of She-Who-Thirsts; He would flay himself alive in the deepest pits of Commorogh if he ever did, laughing all the while as he succumbed to his wounds.
But Iukari nonetheless still held great respect, for they performed a role important to the history of the Aeldari and the grand universe. Yet that line of thought was not needed here, as Iukari had been living his days in this city. He accidentally crash landed in this city, toppling a building on the outskirts of this place in what the humans called a savior pod, and caused too much unwanted attention.
His solution was to traverse in the shadows and alleyways to get away, creeping around the many bustling crowds, just as he used to aboard Faust's little ship. The buildings were a little similar to the grand style the silly Imperium of humans had, although Iukari knew without a doubt it was another architecture technique. To further his amusement, it was also smaller—much, much smaller. No towering spires, no districts that tunneled beneath the ground or grandiose buildings in reverence to their Emperor. It had a charm that Iukari couldn't help but appreciate.
The only tiny, itsy bitsy problem was the smog that polluted the air. The air had a light filter of fog covering the area, even while daylight poked through its covering. Just when you would think being on a different planet meant humanity had changed, pollution remained true to their methodology of construction. It bothered Iukari, but not enough to truly put in a complaint.
Iukari snickered at that, barely retaining his humor as he curled, arms on his stomach. "Ah…" Iukari gasped, finally wiped an imaginary tear from his mask after his quiet laughing fit.
It was a good gag, though the finer one was the fact this place, this… realm… it was not identical to the Milky Way. In fact, nothing was. Iukari's mental barrier remained true, however, the baleful predatory gaze of She simply wasn't there. Not one eensy weensy bit.
Iukari also had a sneaking suspicion he would not be returning to the Black Library anytime soon. Maybe never.
Both of those realizations, as well as not knowing what secrets and dangers lie in this world, was a cruel joke where Iukari was the butt of it. Iukari stifled another giggle, leaning against a wall for support against the maddening loneliness he felt, despair biting at his heart.
This wasn't planned.
Well, most things weren't planned for Iukari. He sort of went with the flow compared to all the other harlequins who only pretended to. At most, he knew what he wanted to do, how to dance towards it, and what to do after. But this? This wasn't planned!
Iukari breathed in deeply. Then out. In. Out. In out, in out, in out, IN OUT!
Iukari fell to his knees, clutching his agaith in consternation, "Heh. HA! HEEHEE, ahahaha!" He couldn't help but laugh as he cried, as everything he once knew was flipped completely upside down. The week's long hours had toiled in his mind, as he had been unhealthily ignoring it, and now was paying the piper his proper due.
Iukari choked, swallowing the sorrow down his throat after he had reached up to strangle himself.
"No, no, that won't do. Can't do that, otherwise who would ever listen to our tales? Ah… hmph, perhaps I should pester Faust on this…"
Iukari looked for his vox communicator he had snagged as he escaped the crashing ship.
"No… not there," he mumbled to himself. Not that pocket, not this one either. Oh my, definitely not that one! Where did I…
Iukari facepalmed his toothy agaith, "How could I forget? Oh, silly me!"
Earlier, about a day or so ago, he had smashed apart his communicator because he desperately needed some stress relief. It was cathartic, in a way, breaking something that Faust technically owned. After all, it was—in an insane manner of thinking—Faust's fault for bringing Iukari out into the middle of nowhere. And then the feelings of misery still continued afterwards, leading Iukari to the depths of his torment.
Iukari sighed, removing his agaith in the shade, before head-butting the wall from his own imbecilic need to be entertained. He put on his special mask again, smearing blood all over his forehead underneath it, then rose upwards.
"Now then, where was I?" Iukari snickered, resuming his walk through the city's dark crevices of stone walls and brick pathways.
Soon, he found himself in a deeper back alley, only to hear what sounded like a scuffle. His curiosity was aroused, driving him towards the source of these sounds.
Iukari had previously picked up on the local language psychically as he wandered around the city or stole delicious morsels. If She was not in the warp, then what was the need for restraining his psychic inclinations? Of course, he wasn't dumb enough—or crazed enough—to simply remove all of them. But he was testing the waters by dipping a toe in, and thus, he siphoned their local language in a manner of days. It would be a useful tool; For instance, right now.
"Bloody Infected like you should know their place!" The harlequin heard as the yell traveled from the alley.
"Piss off, wanker!" was the crude response from a boyish voice, accompanied by an audible thwack.
As Iukari peered around a corner, goofily clinging on the side of the wall with the help of his Flip-belt, he saw what was most definitely a fight. A young human, oddly clothed in white and black robes, was holding out his own, using only his fists. He had dirty blonde hair and a pair of feline ears. Surrounding him were a few other men, who wore the normal clothes of the area instead, wearing overalls, buttoned shirts, and similarly animalistic in their features and varied in their hair colors.
Iukari paid no attention to their extra appendages as he had seen stranger things on the Clad in Ire, and sights he wished to forget on visits to Commorragh. They were still human to Iukari, and more mon'keigh in discipline as they were just hitting each other. Where was the grace? The negotiations? Must all humans resort to such baseless and crude violence when elegance or charm put the point across?
He couldn't understand it, as his method of argumentation was to dance for it—much to Faust's frustration and Iukari's own mirth.
The harlequin slid from the wall slowly, tiptoeing across to another shadow, until walking straight down the middle. He shook his head, as these mon'keigh were so baseless in their fighting style that he'd likely win if he had his legs cut off.
"Oi, who's that?" Said one thug, noticing Iukari's presence.
"Did you seriously call a clown for backup?" Another said to the boy, before kicking him in the ribs.
The young man gasped, before punching one of them square in the face as retaliation, "I dunno, ask him yourself!"
Iukari approached with a skip in his beat, his agaith clearly unsettling them as he skipped closer, "Why hello my fellows! Who are weeeeeee beating on this fine day?"
"None of your business, clown. Piss off before we smack you around, too." One of the braver thugs said, walking closer, pipe in hand. There was a flicker of caution as Iukari snapped his head to look at him, agaith undoubtedly unnerving their soul. He hadn't activated its actual usage yet, and likely wouldn't. They were too feeble minded. It'd be like terrifying a baby, and while hilarious, wouldn't be the best decision.
Iukari grinned under his mask, looked to his outnumbered ally to make sure he caught the gesture, before twirling a finger around his head—an old human expression he partook in.
"Shoulda kept walking!" The enraged thug shouted from the insult, pipe raised to hit the harlequin in the mask.
Of course, such a blow could never hit Iukari. It was just too slow, too clumsy, and far too lame. Iukari easily walked past him, striking him once in the rib in a blur of motion impossibly fast.
The unnamed thug spurted out blood before collapsing, spasming on the floor like a squashed gretchin. He was out for the count, likely for the day too; Maybe the week.
"The hell? Get him!"
Iukari raised his hands with a sly shrug before twirling across the alleyway in glee as he maniacally giggled. Much to his delight, he would be given the chance to let loose here. He wasn't going to kill them or torture them, as the former would be utterly bland for his tastes and the latter too extensive. Instead, he was going to humiliate them into never insulting the basis of martial arts again.
Iukari kicked one of these imbeciles straight in the face, sending him rocketing into a nearby access ladder, his body stuck in betwixt two rungs. With his raised foot upwards, the harlequin fell forwards, landing in a split before punching one of these mon'keigh in their family jewels. The man groaned, only to be met with two shoes kicking his chest and sending him careening into another idiot. They both crashed into a nearby garbage bin, covered in muck and slime.
He easily twisted himself to avoid several punches and kicks, spinning on a hand as he smacked some who got too close. Iukari got up, howling in laughter at the simplicity of their style, before uppercutting another thug. That one flew high in the air, landing on a rooftop with a loud thud. Poor guy. The harlequin successfully captured another human, spinning around and wielding him as a club, then hurling him back at a group of three. Iukari hummed one of his favorite tunes, running towards a wall before back flipping off of it.
Iukari landed behind another mon'keigh, and with a swift chop to the throat, the woman gurgled before dropping. Boring!
The harlequin turned around, eager for more to decimate and disappointingly saw none. Other than the young man—whose mouth was ajar in surprise and fists unclenched—every other idiot was spasming on the ground or slumped against a wall.
"Aww… I thought there'd be more… what a shame. Well, I suppose I was simply too efficient!" Iukari chuckled, bowing at his performance.
"What in the… just who the bloody hell are you? Cheers for the rescue, you really got me out of that pinch! But uh… why'd you go risk your neck out for me?" The younger man asked, his expression delighted and interested.
The Aeldari flourished, "Iukari Desh, wandering performer extraordinaire—at the service to those who would seek the wisdom to be entertained."
"Harlequin? Like… from the Gaulish play by Tristan Zanassa?"
"Precisely!" Iukari confidently replied through his mask, having absolutely zero idea what a Gaulish is. He snickered at the thought, but the idea of a foreign play snagged a hook into his mind. It would have to be something to watch in the future and criticize on what could be done better.
"That's… some old taste in performances you've got there… but I'm not judgin' my saviour. There's only a few who would help an Infected... Name's Oscar Clarke," the man said, extending his hand.
Which Iukari grabbed, and vigorously shook, his agaith staring deeply at Oscar, "Oh what a kind sir you are! It has been such a while since someone appreciated my talents."
"You're welcome. Sorry you had to fight these nuisances for my sake." Oscar said, sighing, "Lyndon wasn't always like this, but things spiraled out of control after the Tarans finally seceded. My job is basically getting rid of people like these," Oscar said, tapping his orange armband with a white double helix symbol. "But I might have underestimated them a little."
"Oh, what whimsical nonsense. You could have taken them without me; I only made it easier!"
"Thank you, but I sincerely doubt it…" Oscar looked around, slightly discomforted by the bodies strewn about as he adjusted his clothing, "I feel we should probably move away from here."
"Mm? They won't be recovering for a while from now, so I don't see the point."
"Yeah, but I think I'd better report this. Get some of my folks to get these fellas off the streets. That way, us Infected don't have to fear every shadow that twitches. Actually, now that I think about it, you said you perform, right?"
In a creepy display of perfect balance, Iukari leaned forward before speaking, "Oh yes!" But I currently have somewhere to get to, so I'm afraid I cannot stay around for long."
"Oh, that's a shame. Where to?"
Iukari giggled, "Somewhere fabulously deranged, to be precise. I can get there without issues. Why would it be a shame, Oscar Clarke?"
Oscar tilted his head at Iukari's cryptic sentence, but reformed his own thoughts. "Well… I was about to offer you to come along with me. Just for a bit. We've got shelter, food, medicine—if you need it."
That interested Iukari immensely. He wasn't an information gatherer like that metallic snake, Delta, but he did understand that Faust had interests in learning more of, well, everything. It would also be worth understanding the people around and the culture they live in. This one was likely less insane than the Drukhari and barely as rigid as the Aeldari. Or as silly as the Imperium's. It was just worth the effort.
"Go on…"
Oscar lit up, nodding, "It's a bit tucked about, but we've got a little base around here. Maybe you could tell a story or two?"
The clown's agaith shuddered, before he erupted in a small chuckle, accepting the request, "Oh, why not!"
Iukari was led throughout the city unimpeded. He drew some attention, as his brightly colored clothing and unsettling visage of an agaith drew in many eyes, but nothing to really halt his progress. But the boy seemed to draw more attention, with wary looks or sunny smiles directed his way. It became more apparent Oscar was a part of some type of organization here, since others like him wandered the streets, wearing incredibly simple masks that had only two eye-holes for them to peek out of—nothing more. The same symbol that Oscar carried was usually somewhere on their person. They were likely some sort of enforcement group.
The group Oscar belonged to suggested having a reputation going on, as it was rife with some type of history. A bit of talking revealed that Oscar's group had originally come here to help the Infected—which Iukari didn't press further for—but inadvertently established themselves here. Something about a crown and a ruler? There was far too much information for Iukari to listen to in his state of mind, and much more distractions that came his way.
Iukari couldn't help but prance as they journeyed until they arrived in a more secluded area. It seemed to be something similar to a warehouse district, which Iukari snickered at how similar humans acted, no matter the world.
But this city, these people… it reminded Iukari of wistful longing that he sought for. It was the one thing that stayed true to his goal, after he became a Player on the grand stage. Peace. He wasn't sure why that of all things remained in his memories, compared to everything he once had now a distant past long forgotten. Whether the Great Cegorach granted it or because Iukari's own mind would not let him forget it was as unclear as the Laughing God's grand goal. Yet he held onto this echo of his past with a grip that no Daemon could pry.
They finally approached a specific warehouse, spray painted orange and white hues revealing a makeshift base, where someone was already awaiting them on the outside.
"Well, well, look who it is?" called a voice out to Oscar, a black-robed man, curved horns growing upward out of his skull, and a… ominously black tail flicking at the dust in the street. The man soon hand for a shake.
Oscar took it, smiling all the while, "Reaver, how're you doin' mate? Thought you had some stuff in Londinium?"
"Nah, I finished that up a day ago. Just got posted here by Wess." Reaver, presumably, looked at Iukari, who was staring at an unnervingly intense manner, "...Who's the weirdo?"
Iukari had drowned out their conversation as he cupped his chin, taking a small looksy into Wess' mind. It may have been rude to have not asked, but Iukari had to make sure of something first. Bizzaringly, no matter how daemonic or mutated Reaver looked, he had no trace of any Dark God's taint. He certainly looked the part, which may be problematic to deal with in the future—pointedly at Faust—but he was no Daemon.
The harlequin did, however, detect a far greater curiosity. He made sure not to make himself easily detectable inside Wess' mind, but doing so meant he could only perceive a glimpse… It was like a memory, but not Wess', someone else's. Iukari backed out, snickering at the discovery as he rejoined the conversation.
"Iukari Desh," Iukari said, bowing dramatically, "I've been told I can tell my stories here?"
"You brought a storyteller, Oscar?"
"Yeah!"
"...why?"
Oscar shrugged. "He saved me while I was in a spot of bother. Speaking of, I… err, he took care of some of them Scuttlers for us. I owe him something, so I said he could come here."
Reaver rubbed the bridge of his nose, "That's… alright, fine. I'll take your word for it this time. You look a bit roughed up anyways." Reaver turned towards the harlequin, "Try not to cause too much trouble here, Mr. Desh, yeah? We've got enough problems around as is."
"I will indubitably keep up my best behavior!" Iukari sang.
Reaver sighed, "Welcome to Reunion I guess… He's your responsibility, Oscar. Don't make it my problem to deal with, got it?"
"Clear as crystal!" Oscar said, saluting.
"You don't need to… never mind, carry on." Reaver stood aside, letting them walk into the warehouse.
This place, these people, this world, it was entertaining enough to hush his despair. Iukari was going to enjoy his time here, and likely, this group would eventually face what Faust had in store. Iukari would be there to at least delegate between the two factions, or maybe get one of them to reach out first. Hopefully, Faust would be in an understanding mood when it eventually happened.
For now, Iukari relished this moment of peace, as he would be able to retell history.
AN: I want to make this clear to avoid confusion, the chapter isn't actually an intermission, as it will relate to Faust. Eventually. You'll know when they aren't related by the Side Story chapters. Also, bit of an unknown future I'm working with considering the Londinium Arc isn't done. Maybe I'll rewrite it for a more canon version, if it happens, but for now, what you know is that the Tarans seceded and a new ruler took hold of the crown.
Silent Robin: Terra isn't as deadly as a death world, but I wouldn't go so far to say it doesn't have the potential to. We saw what happens on one of IS3's endings. Spoiler alert: the sea rose, and with it, a never ending tide of monsters.
Lieutenant Gate: I want to agree with you, but here's the thing, Terrans are much, much stronger than the average human. I won't go too far into details, but each race has a higher strength than the average human. This is proven when Tachanka couldn't pull a bow with both his hands (I wonder where I got the inspiration for Faust trying to do it); Keep in mind The Lord's a pretty strong-abled man. And while a lot of races have their own specialties, the physically strongest ones have to be Vouivire's, Sarkaz, and Ursus, without counting the Elder races. Does this mean they're as physically strong as a Space Marine? Maybe. But are they as strong as a Space Marine? Oh fuck no, Space Marines are super humans for a reason. Terran physiology and racial traits are diverse, but that's basically asking if an Ogryn could beat a Space Marine in a fight. The answer, is still likely a no. Arts, however, is a different matter entirely with specific individuals... Anyway, Katya isn't at that strength to beat an angel, she's only just joined the retinue of a Rogue Trader.