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[Harry Baldman]

Turn 6
Nature's Call

Talgoek of D3:

[Like An Open Book: 3+1]

You spend some time observing the giant, reading into her motions and what you can discern from her thoughts. They appear to be simple ruminations on the question of 'what', each punctuated with a noticeable pause. What is she? What is this world? What is her purpose? What was that luminous orb she accidentally dropped? What was that creature that fell off nigh an aeon ago? What is the punishment prescribed for complete failure in one's work? What was the entity meant to mete it out? What happened to drive it away? And in light of all that, what happens to her now? The thoughts reach this concluding question, and the giant has walked one full length of the strip. She stops thinking a moment, then starts again along familiar lines. What is she? What is this world? What is her purpose?

You leave this view a moment as you look up if there are maybe any things that nearby gods may need some help with. Fortunately, the aether has very convenient listings for this sort of thing.

Spoiler: Requests For Assistance (click to show/hide)

• need help with afterlife sorting algorithm, creation covered + bonus payment, ask for vizzl at oeren'tressal
• Forest moon w/ hostile intent needs fleshing out within budgetary parameters. Currently looking for lowest bidders in Hyler, inquire within Cloud Administration. Have proposal draft ready (document instructions and planetary data included with listing).
• DEMON GENETICS FUCKED, NEED HELP PRONTO AT EIGHTFOLD HELLS OF MALDERIL
• Incongruous race of cute nilbogs needs new home. Look for Alindra in the Labyrinthine Wilds.
• Charismatic and attractive divinities warmly welcomed at the Evening Song to ensure magnificent call to power. Gods of all skill levels are free to apply!

Looks like a bit of work is available indeed. Considerably varied work at that. You walk away from the Aetherpane for a few moments, considering your next move as you sit down on your humming Throne, feeling it conform to your shape and leaving you all alone with your own thoughts. You find yourself feeling a strong craving for novelty as you brood in your shivering plane, your divine essence beginning to subtly ache for refreshment.

Spoiler: Divine Status, D3 (click to show/hide)

Talgoek
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: refreshment)
Divine Power: 8

Allies:
Tamos

Plane D3

• The plane twitches with remembered burning and imprinted screaming.
• A dark knot of spacetime holds the ashes of your late Reliquary. The plane seems reticent to let you touch it.
• The forlorn shadow of D3 decorates one edge of the plane, impossible to remove with ordinary cleaning techniques. It seems interested in your Aetherpane.
• Your portable Aetherpane hangs on the vault of heavens, its connection best described as mediocre.
• Your manifold throne hums in the way only induced earthbone can, currently a verdant green and looking exquisitely comfortable. You feel a strong urge to slouch in it a while.
• The Rug of Death has settled down near the shadow for now, its depiction of Death improvising some excellent doomjazz. Death appears to have assumed a particularly expressive pose in order to have its image taken shortly.
• A hollowed-out copy of Will Self's Umbrella currently holds a number of relics you could use to freshen yourself right up. That number is zero.
  
• A template of an apartment has been somewhat haphazardly forced on the plane, with bits of it rising, falling and folding according to a conventional floor plan, with half-formed artifacts of urban living cropping up in unexpected places.

Tamos of C4:

[Casting A Wide Net: 2+2]

Your mothers are delighted to hear from you so soon, and appreciate any news of your plane you care to bring. It's a little slow back home, just as you remember it - that's how it always is with an age of mortals. You get to step back, look at what you've made, see how things develop. Maybe feed the mortals a more interesting idea, a small spark of creative potential. Being goddesses of mortal endeavor, both Ebris and Jahena tend to be busier goddesses than most who don't underpin a physical law or some such, but it's pretty sedate back there. No great catastrophes or upheavals on the horizon, so it's something like vacation time presently. The other day your great grandfather Yultar announced he'd be going for a tour of the outer multiverse for his health, you know, refresh that ancient dark spirit of his, so you know things are getting increasingly relaxed.

Speaking of, your plane's seemingly coming along nicely, Jahena suggests. How about inviting her and Ebris over for a planewarming? It's been so long since they've seen some properly fresh plane work. And Aetherpanes are just such an impersonal way of keeping in touch, Ebris mentions. They're not very busy. So it probably wouldn't be too terrible if they came over after this next cycle's done? Maybe they could even meet that girl you always talk about (that you personally only recall mentioning to them once in passing), she moved over there as well, right? Anyway, do let them know if you have any objections to your dear mothers visiting their beloved son they assuredly miss very much.

While you speak with your mothers, you check out the other surrounding locations for fine sources of either materials or mortals. The trouble with both, you discover, is that most of the planes that would ostensibly contain either in considerable amounts are also either private planes or ones currently open for exhibition, and the owners of neither seem like they'd very much appreciate you nicking their worshipers and creations (although some exhibition listings do promise some free samples) unless they knew you reasonably well and/or you had something to give them in return. Not that you'd need to necessarily ask permission, though you'd foresee some adverse consequences to that if you're not careful.

Anyway, you figure it's about time to have a sit on the Throne. The medicated haze of heady floral aromas and the starlike look of the aetheric access points, their luminous nature lensed by wanton manipulations of spacetime, it's all got a strangely quasi-romantic feel to it. And the resonance of divine mandate fills you with great resolve only partially offset by the slightly unclean sensation of unrefreshed divinity. There's a bit of work to do yet, you figure as you rise. Especially as your mothers seem rather eager to visit.

Spoiler: Divine Status, C4 (click to show/hide)

Tamos
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: refreshment)
Divine Power: 8

Allies:
Talgoek

Plane C4

• An atmosphere of strongly medicated placidity mixes effortlessly with the heady scent of assorted exotic flowers, reminding you of a remote sanitarium or maybe a particular kind of party.
• A patch of half-dried and still scintillating reality putty marks the spot where a wound in spacetime used to be.
• The ground is made of petrified oak, covered in elaborate and beautiful flower patterns.
• A workshop filled with assorted divine tools dominates one corner of the plane, humming with potential.
• Planters filled with exotic flowers line the edges of the plane, filling the air with exotic aromas.
• An obsidian and ebony Aetherpane is firmly stamped on the edge of the plane, reaching out across the breadth of the vault of heavens with spacetime funnels and miniature starts, receiving views from a wide variety of aetheric configurations, averaging out to an acceptable connection by the sheer power of statistical probability.
• The Reliquary sits along the edge of the plane, an elaborate chest of marble flowers that unfolds into a variety of floral stone ensembles packed with guest refreshments. Its deeper, premium compartments are currently devoid of relics useful for the host's refreshment.
• A paragon Throne of fabled wood stands alone, floral carvings lining its surface. Its construction expresses concentrated divinity, the unmistakable perfection of divine law. It dares dust to settle upon it, and it seems none of it is willing to take up the challenge.

Zelifan of C3

[Polishing Up: 3+2]

It's probably going to take more than just a spit-polish to see into the aether from what is essentially a mundane box, but you smooth over this concern by shooting a little divine power into things while stylishly pretending to exert absolutely no effort. Muck drains inside the chest, or perhaps merely concentrates, its murky filth congealing into complete blackness populated by small crystals of concentrated, translucent salt forming complex and intricate structures that manifest their potency with a clearly noticeable glow. Organizing into a single and coherent layer, the crystals begin to react to your commands, showing luminescent representations of events in faraway places beyond the veil of this small universe. It looks to be working really quite well, though the resolution is, if charming, nevertheless objectively small. Just in time for your break, you suppose.

[Brooding In Comfort: 5]

Occupied with your wonderful new Aetherpane, the way the branches stick into your flesh and the dirt gets on your back hardly seems like a bother to you at all. You float the chest up to your side as you lounge absently, checking up on if anyone's looking for you across the aether. Sikre seems curious about how you're doing, having left you a note inquiring about how the moving's going, but your parents seem to be still giving you some space. Probably at your father's insistence, you suspect. He's a private kind of god, after all.

Of course, amid all this lounging you can't help but feel yourself getting a little funky. You think you'll be needing some relics sooner rather than later.

Spoiler: Divine Status, C3 (click to show/hide)

Zelifan
Integrity: 5/5
Divine Power: 5

Allies:
Sikre, God of Fishing

Plane C3

• The plane has been left blissfully free of obvious evidence by its previous inhabitant, the spacetime quite spotless and ready for suggestion for the most part.
• The floor of the plane is filled with muck up to your knees. It bestows a dank and boggy ambiance you suppose you could build upon.
• Your empty Reliquary swings as if windblown, though the air remains stagnant and damp. It is attached to the heavens by a grim-looking iron chain, the periodic jangling of which creates a jail-like ambiance.
• Stunted and twisted trees grow out of the muck, barely reaching up to your chest. Theirs is a cruel and unforgiving existence.
• A somewhat mild fog makes it difficult to see the very edges of the plane as it gives the place a rather ambient grayness and damp.
• A traveling light wanders through the plane, enticing guests to follow it on a doomed circuitous journey around your dread realm.
• An abandoned and ancient chest hides an Aetherpane of darkest murk and shining salt, offering you all the secrets of the Aether at a somewhat acceptable pace.
• Your Throne lurks beneath the Reliquary, a chaise longue of rotten wood lined with softer moss and woody fungus, a spiky reminder of the burdens of infinite creativity.

Xenronack of D4

[Smash And Grab: 3+2]

Since hauling a crystal larger than yourself would be terribly unwieldy across any length of extrauniversal non-space, you go for the practical solution and send a spear of blazing power into one of the smaller crystals, unmaking it with spectacular speed as you try and get your paw-fin-hands on the object held within - the crushed corpse of the Great Microparasite, the insect that fed on the blood of a now-forgotten demiurge, releasing the ubiquitous mosquito from its fast-transforming innards even as the hand of a vengeful god ended its life in short innards, from which point its offspring proceeded to infest a majority of the multiverse. Crushed tiny carcass in hand, you make a run for it all the way home as you cross planar boundaries right back into your domain.

Feeling victorious, you pop the carcass into your being, feeling a fine sense of refreshment as you do so. Feigning nonchalance, you step over to your Bone Throne and cross your legs as you sit down, feeling like a smooth criminal through and through. You turn toward the Aetherpane slowly. It seems to not have noticed any of what you're doing, merely going about its enigmatic business at a characteristic rapid pace. You clear your throat in its direction a few times, but it seems to not really care. The itch to check if your mother wants to know how you're doing rises insidiously in your mind. But nevertheless you're mostly all right.

[Blissful Anonymity: 2]

Yep. Mostly all right indeed.

Spoiler: Divine Status, D4 (click to show/hide)

Xenronack
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: communication)
Divine Power: 3

Allies:
Tiamat, Goddess of Evil Dragons

Plane D4

• The previous tenant's hot pink, heavily customized Aetherpane hangs in the fourth corner, going about an aether trawl of indiscernible purpose. It appears to like the new lighting.
• The plane smells like Arcadian flower-scented air freshener, lingering from some previous cleanup campaign.
• Your magnificent Bone Throne graces one corner of the plane, looking very inviting as well as perhaps unfashionably risque out in the open. Its surface has been mildly browned by the power of your lamp.
• Your ultra-lamp is currently bathing your plane an unfriendly shade of Seemingly Harmless Red.
• In the other corner stands your lovely glass terrarium, filled with convincingly cheap props (some of them alive and none too pleased about it) and slightly-too-bright lighting that are sure to provide a good time.
• In the glass terrarium a miniscule race of half-inch rubbery mortals are trying to figure out why the invisible radiation of death is now red and seemingly harmless. The nearby living plastic plants seem to be taking the change rather well even if they seem somewhat heavily damaged by the initial burst of deadly space rays.
• In the other other corner is your plausibly repurposed cardboard Reliquary, currently filled with completely inedible packing peanuts. It seems to have miraculously not burst into flames just yet.
• The floor of the plane currently affords a view into the Connective Plane, which currently seems to have little happening in it.
• Red skulls of questionable origin and structure line the vault of heavens, glowing softly with red light.

Amaranta of B1

[War On Stone: 1]

You tell the gnomes that the temple was a test! Yes, a test! One that they passed. Or will pass, maybe, once it's been taken down and destroyed. The gnomes seem intimidated. This is quite a devilish test in their minds, it seems, and while quite a few do charge at it at your command, almost all turn away in short order and run for bushy cover, and only one makes it as far as the temple's red stone doorstep before fleeing the opposite way, gibbering about incomprehensible horror. Look, you say, it's not really that bad. It's just a tiny red stone temple. You could probably break it easily. You demonstrate this by stepping on the temple, its roof collapsing handily under your dirt-encrusted foot. Only a few gnomes are still observing as you do this, most having turned tail and run, and of those that did see this, most start screaming immediately. A few mouths overflow with muddy foam as their eyes twist into the backs of their little heads. A silence interrupted only by yet more gibbering from the incapacitated mad gnomes settles along the plane as the earth moves to soothe the damaged minds of its beloved children.

[Structural Support: 2]

Perhaps fearing that you'll make things worse, you leave them to it for now and try to support your Throne a little better with the underlying bushes, only to run into the slight problem of continually failing to get the balance right. The lopsidedness goes from one end to the other, the Throne swaying subtly back and forth. It rises a little, but the view (from without and within in equal measure) nevertheless leaves something to be desired, especially as you climb into it and brood over the strange ways things are going wrong lately while idly checking your Aetherpane for good relic offers.

Ordering a relic costs a little bit of power. That is, if you're willing to deal with a certain delay. Going out to get your own is significantly cheaper, considering that if you play your cards right you can safely pay in flattery, but sometimes you just need a relic and you need it quickly. So you place the common order of "something intriguing" in the Aether and watch as it is snatched up in seconds by the watchful eyes of the delivery gods, each promising delivery in less than a half-cycle or the service is completely free. The wait will leave you feeling a little stagnant, maybe, but you don't foresee any particularly negative side effects.

Spoiler: Divine Status, B1 (click to show/hide)

Amaranta
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: refreshment)
Divine Power: 6

Allies:
Hassha, God of Silence
Atian the Elephantman God
Hanping, God of Fortuitous Coincidence and Opportunity

Plane B1

• The spacetime of the plane feels respectably aged and seasoned, a remnant of the snake god of time that lived here previously.
• The ground of the plane is fertile humus blessed with a wormlike intellect and rudimentary animation, currently bothering a crop of enormous strawberry bushes into impossible excellence.
• Strawberry bushes taller than the gods themselves scratch at the heavens as they sprawl along the top and bottom of the plane alike, spreading wildly and in a mazelike fashion.
• Your ancient and glorious Throne stands lopsided in your realm atop a risen thick bed of crushed strawberry bushes. A gnome community is in the middle of establishing a hierarchy of command beneath it.
• A functioning Aetherpane made of a convenient strawberry bush rises near the throne, an extradimensional lens of hardened resin offering mediocre universe overwatch.
• Your Reliquary is half-buried along the edge of the plane, tempting would-be treasure seekers.
• A self-sufficient budding society of gnomes has emerged in your realm, recognizing you as their creator and master. They coexist with soil and strawberry, leading carefree lives of contemplating the meaning of divine artifacts as they try to work out the beginnings of a society.
• The Red Temple towers over the gnomish populace on the plane floor, an unknown horror lurking within and sowing fear among your plane's inhabitants. The way you collapsed its roof seems to have only made it (and you) more frightening somehow.

Atian of C2

[Go Ahead, Make A Move: 1]

You watch as Lady continues to get into increasingly worse and more painful escapades along the edge of your plane. Oh, there goes the arm. And, uh, parts of the leg. And oh dear, is that her head? Hard to tell at this point. You watch for a few moments longer as bits of Lady meet their ultimate fates in perpetual trap-thrown motion, but are interrupted by the sound of Lumpy starting to yell as malevolent serpents nip at his heels, driving him to try and take up higher ground on the hill, only to suddenly disappear from sight as he is funneled into what you like to call the Tunnel of Fun.

Robbed of immediate entertainment, you go to reset all of those traps your poor mortals set off. Well, the ones that haven't already reset themselves. Many of them do (especially the ones that have migration capability). It's the only way to be completely sure, you find. So that really only takes a minute.

As for contacting Amaranta, well, the trouble with that is that your Aetherpane is kind of stuck inside that model palace you put it in, and neither your hand nor head fit in deep enough to nicely get it out. So perhaps luring your poor friends into your plane will have to wait. Although, speaking of waiting, you are starting to feel terribly antsy. You've been here for a bit of time already and you still haven't actually put anything in here that would make living even vaguely tolerable. And you do have a lot of thoughts that need thinking, friends that need catching up with and divine essence that needs freshening. You're starting to feel a little uncomfortable as strange ideas begin to fester within your body.

Spoiler: Divine Status, C2 (click to show/hide)

Atian the Elephantman God
Integrity: 4/5 (needs compromised: communication, brooding, refreshment)
Divine Power: 2

Allies:
Amaranta

Plane C2

• Your roommate currently is in a state of existential flux. She is likely going to use this fact to mess with you somehow. That is, if she actually exists.
• Your lawn filled with rocks is dead. Murdered! And someone's responsible!
  
• A model palace stands in the middle of the room atop your sacred hill, the resting place of your Aetherpane as it awaits worthy mortals to bear its superb connectivity.
• Tiny salt-expelling trees cover the floor of the plane in miniature forests, filling it with a dense covering of salty leaves.
• The alarming sensation of being watched and that you are in mortal danger at all times informs you that your traps (and the traps within them, and the traps overlaying them) are in superb operating condition. If this was a tomb plane, you could almost certainly keep anything at all in here with the expectation of safety.
• A tiny freshwater river snakes out of the foot of the hill, spiraling around for a good bit before terminating uneventfully. It is powered by a mystical spring in the center of your sacred hill. It is inhabited by a teeming ecosystem of tiny and exquisitely delicious creatures, of which fish are the very largest.
• Two half-elves, temporarily dubbed Lumpy and Lady, inhabit your realm in an innocent, uncorrupted fashion, though they are a little bit larger than basically everything else in it due to a slight miscalculation of necessary materials. Lady is currently very dead. Lumpy is nowhere to be seen, but presumably isn't having a good time.
• Lovely miniature applenut trees beckon unwary travelers with their delicious subterranean applenut pods. Little does anyone know of the explosive surprises contained all around the trees, within the trees and in many places even vaguely associated with the trees (you like to be thorough).

Spoiler: GM Note (click to show/hide)

With the arrival of the first odd god listings, waitlisters and watchers can begin PMing me ideas on what jobs they think other gods would be willing to pay to be done on their behalf, and what gods from which planes would ask for them.

Also, for future reference, relic delivery works like this:

• Any relic, arrives in 3 turns or less - 1 point.
• Any relic, arrives on the same turn - 2 points.
• Specific relic, arrives in 3 turns or less - 2 points.
• Specific relic, arrives on same turn - 3 points.

Finally, 6 turns constitute a cycle, the average period between physiologically required brooding sessions for gods of all stripes. It's a surprisingly consistent time-telling measure. If you haven't done so already and are on your home plane, your needs are addressed at the end of every sixth turn, since I decided to roll the maintenance round back into the game proper.

[Pancaek]

"Of course, moms, I'd be happy to have you over any time. Just keep in mind that's it's still a bit of a work in progress, okay?"

Does looking up job postings count as an aetherpane action? Regardless, look them up.

Then go on a trip to those exhibition planes that give out free samples, have a day off. (put all remaining actions as +1 to this.) Make sure to lock the proverbial door behind me when I leave my plane. Does it even have a door?

[crazyabe]

I See if anyone is Looking for a God to worship over Aetherplane...

[ziizo]

Answer Sikre "Hello Sikre, I had a few troubles starting but nothing that cannot be fixed, how is everything there?"

After that search for odd-jobs in the Aetherplane.

fix a bit the Throne (+1 to this action)

[penguinofhonor]

This divine caretaker stuff is harder than it looks. I see why dad keeps his shtick a little more impersonal.

Away from the red temple, I construct a green one from living plants and vines grown into intricate architecture (+2 to this action).

When it's complete, I address any nearby gnomes. "Apologies, my children. I misunderstood your gentle nature. Here is a temple that you can care for in my honor."

[Atian the Elephantman God]

"I need a long rest after all that work."

Find a relaxing spot near the river and just relax for the rest of the time(+2)

[Fniff]

"Oh hey, someone needs gods of any skill-levels, that's me! 'Attractive and charismatic'...
... *sigh* Nevermind."
Looking after a pack of nilbogs? Sounds like that'll be entertaining! Go visit this Alindra and see if I can convince her to adopt the little guys. It'll provide nice refreshment getting out of this damn plane. +1
Ask the giant, in a quiet whisper, if she wants the answers to these questions. If she does, all she needs to do is welcome me into her heart. Whatever the hell that means, mortals say it all the time.

[Harry Baldman]

Turn 7
A Night Out In The Multiverse

Talgoek of D3:

[Aethereal Messaging: 2]

You're not really sure how you'd go about sending a mortal any messages through the Aetherpane. At least not through the medium of a whisper. Maybe you could write a message in big flaming letters somewhere along her path, she's sure to notice them then. Though that would require you to put some actual power into the whole thing. Would likely be a little cheaper, if more time-consuming, to head there yourself and whisper from closer by. You guess the giant's not going anywhere, so you probably have some time to ruminate on how to do this anyway. There's more important things to attend to. Such as cute little nilbogs!

[Traversing the Wilds: 1+1]

Rather unsurprisingly the Labyrinthine Wilds were not named such for being straightforward, and this is readily apparent from the universe's look even before you enter, all twisted into knots and leafy protuberances. The bramble of spacetime is shockingly hard to even get into in the first place despite an ostensible lack of mechanisms for specifically keeping you out, and when you do you find yourself in a forest of twisting trees. Forest to the left, forest to the right, forest beneath your feet and forest filling the sky, no end in sight.

You look around the woods, floating freely in the complete lack of gravity. Schools of propelled flowers float by, leaving luminescent trails of pollen. Skull-headed millipedes crawl along the brambles, busily preparing mixes of neurotoxins of unheard-of potency in case you'd like to start trouble. Clumps of grass growing uniformly in all directions travel between trees in thick tumbleweed-like formations. You hear the distant laughter of tree frogs from between the labyrinthine mix of roots and massive leaves that respectively suck in and blowing out heavy moisture as they toil away in eternal twilight. A six-armed tree sloth easily three times your size lazily retreats in the distance until it is but a shadow, keeping two narrowed, slightly glowing eyes fixed on you unnervingly.

Well, you've had worse welcomes, you suppose.

Spoiler: Divine Status, D3 (click to show/hide)

Talgoek
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: refreshment)
Divine Power: 8

Allies:
Tamos

Plane D3

• The plane twitches with remembered burning and imprinted screaming.
• A dark knot of spacetime holds the ashes of your late Reliquary. The plane seems reticent to let you touch it.
• The forlorn shadow of D3 decorates one edge of the plane, impossible to remove with ordinary cleaning techniques. It seems interested in your Aetherpane.
• Your portable Aetherpane hangs on the vault of heavens, its connection best described as mediocre.
• Your manifold throne hums in the way only induced earthbone can, currently a verdant green and looking exquisitely comfortable. You feel a strong urge to slouch in it a while.
• The Rug of Death has settled down near the shadow for now, its depiction of Death improvising some excellent doomjazz. Death appears to have assumed a particularly expressive pose in order to have its image taken shortly.
• A hollowed-out copy of Will Self's Umbrella currently holds a number of relics you could use to freshen yourself right up. That number is zero.
  
• A template of an apartment has been somewhat haphazardly forced on the plane, with bits of it rising, falling and folding according to a conventional floor plan, with half-formed artifacts of urban living cropping up in unexpected places.

Tamos of C4:

It's settled, clearly - your mothers will arrive next cycle. You silently hope they'll approve of your living conditions. Speaking of, should probably find some way to replenish your power. Such as doing gods' work, so to speak. You take a gander at the listings available.

Spoiler: Requests For Assistance (click to show/hide)

• need help with afterlife sorting algorithm, creation covered + bonus payment, ask for vizzl at oeren'tressal
• Forest moon w/ hostile intent needs fleshing out within budgetary parameters. Currently looking for lowest bidders in Hyler, inquire within Cloud Administration. Have proposal draft ready (document instructions and planetary data included with listing).
• DEMON GENETICS FUCKED, NEED HELP PRONTO AT EIGHTFOLD HELLS OF MALDERIL
• Incongruous race of cute nilbogs needs new home. Look for Alindra in the Labyrinthine Wilds.
• Charismatic and attractive divinities warmly welcomed at the Evening Song to ensure magnificent call to power. Gods of all skill levels are free to apply!
• Have you seen this Monster? Lost "Margotaur" nick. Margo in some subplane. Contact Okilon if found.
  
• Reward offered for relic thief's location - perpetrator is a twisted mix of man, fish and dog, wields power of the gods. Bring any information in person to Curator Xyr at the Crystal Museum.

Some of these, naturally, are meatier offers than others. You figure you might consider a couple as you head out for a trip along the nearby exhibition planes, the ones with free samples first and foremost.

[Museum Crawl: 5+1]

Of course, finding a good exhibition plane is often a question of taste and skill. You decide to ignore the smoothly-described, well-designed planes, as any god on a budget worth their salt usually does, and head straight for the Shukka-Muru, a third-rate pocket plane crudely attached to the bottom of a much better-run universe, its Aetherpane description written in just one mortal language, and the design indicating that it's been set to an exhibition plane mostly by accident. It's about ten times the size of your own plane, depressingly enough, and at the easily co-opted portal on the edge of the plane three well-armed guards attend a fetching young maiden with bright red skin and black hair, her eyes smoldering right up until the point she notices your arrival, at which point they turn immediately black and wide.

You smile at her gently as you inquire whether you're allowed to go in. O-of course, she stammers back. Right this way, sir.

The inside of Shukka-Muru is a fairly busy place crawling with all sorts, from smoking hulks of assembled cinders to what appear to be bipedal dolphins having drinks, the place filled with clamor and, if you're not mistaken, more than a little fighting, some of it even within an improvised ring of some kind. Mortals all, not a god in sight. A high-class establishment for people who like to pretend that they are planeswalkers. An amazing place to get free drinks if you're a god. And maybe even find some relics. No doubt at least a dozen of these miscreants (judging by the state of their supernaturally sharp knives, intense stares and general air of sorcery) has stolen or made something you'd find vaguely edible. You signal for one of the wenches to come along - she seems flattered that you would even deign to point at her, pausing in whatever she was doing and coming right over. Eyes begin to turn as your aura thickens the atmosphere.

Spoiler: Divine Status, C4 (click to show/hide)

Tamos
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: refreshment)
Divine Power: 8

Allies:
Talgoek

Plane C4

• An atmosphere of strongly medicated placidity mixes effortlessly with the heady scent of assorted exotic flowers, reminding you of a remote sanitarium or maybe a particular kind of party.
• A patch of half-dried and still scintillating reality putty marks the spot where a wound in spacetime used to be.
• The ground is made of petrified oak, covered in elaborate and beautiful flower patterns.
• A workshop filled with assorted divine tools dominates one corner of the plane, humming with potential.
• Planters filled with exotic flowers line the edges of the plane, filling the air with exotic aromas.
• An obsidian and ebony Aetherpane is firmly stamped on the edge of the plane, reaching out across the breadth of the vault of heavens with spacetime funnels and miniature starts, receiving views from a wide variety of aetheric configurations, averaging out to an acceptable connection by the sheer power of statistical probability.
• The Reliquary sits along the edge of the plane, an elaborate chest of marble flowers that unfolds into a variety of floral stone ensembles packed with guest refreshments. Its deeper, premium compartments are currently devoid of relics useful for the host's refreshment.
• A paragon Throne of fabled wood stands alone, floral carvings lining its surface. Its construction expresses concentrated divinity, the unmistakable perfection of divine law. It dares dust to settle upon it, and it seems none of it is willing to take up the challenge.

Zelifan of C3

Sikre seems to be doing pretty well. Fishing isn't really that much of a problem to administer until you start getting some serious mortal populations, though he'll be damned if some of these sea trolls aren't trying their very hardest to make things difficult. It's a comfortable enough routine, he guesses. Pretty boring on most days. Not everyone can be an extradimensional adventurer living the free and high life, eh? Though, y'know, getting out of the plane every now and then won't do any harm either. Good to see you're having a nice time, too! Best of luck with your troubles, as always.

Having caught up with your old buddy you decide to look up if there are any convenient methods of replenishing divine power. And sure enough, offers are definitely out there.

Spoiler: Requests For Assistance (click to show/hide)

• need help with afterlife sorting algorithm, creation covered + bonus payment, ask for vizzl at oeren'tressal
• Forest moon w/ hostile intent needs fleshing out within budgetary parameters. Currently looking for lowest bidders in Hyler, inquire within Cloud Administration. Have proposal draft ready (document instructions and planetary data included with listing).
• DEMON GENETICS FUCKED, NEED HELP PRONTO AT EIGHTFOLD HELLS OF MALDERIL
• Incongruous race of cute nilbogs needs new home. Look for Alindra in the Labyrinthine Wilds.
• Charismatic and attractive divinities warmly welcomed at the Evening Song to ensure magnificent call to power. Gods of all skill levels are free to apply!
• Have you seen this Monster? Lost "Margotaur" nick. Margo in some subplane. Contact Okilon if found.
  
• Reward offered for relic thief's location - perpetrator is a twisted mix of man, fish and dog, wields power of the gods. Bring any information about the thief's whereabouts in person to Curator Xyr at the Crystal Museum.

Having looked that up, you go ahead and try to fix that Throne. Aesthetic integrity is all fine and good, but you need a place to brood, dammit.

[Fixing A Throne Where The Rain Gets In: 1+1]

You raise it a little and shuffle it slightly, and find that it doesn't look any more comfortable for it, although you do surmise it's probably harder to cover it in muck now. You'd need to get very elaborate with the design to make it less risky to brood on while also not making it look lame. Make it seemingly uncomfortable, you see. It's a problem many gods with a less-than-savory image face - how do you make a lair that looks dank and intimidating, yet offers creature comforts adequate for a god? No wonder there's whole publications on good planeskeeping based on addressing the issue.

Spoiler: Divine Status, C3 (click to show/hide)

Zelifan
Integrity: 5/5
Divine Power: 5

Allies:
Sikre, God of Fishing

Plane C3

• The plane has been left blissfully free of obvious evidence by its previous inhabitant, the spacetime quite spotless and ready for suggestion for the most part.
• The floor of the plane is filled with muck up to your knees. It bestows a dank and boggy ambiance you suppose you could build upon.
• Your empty Reliquary swings as if windblown, though the air remains stagnant and damp. It is attached to the heavens by a grim-looking iron chain, the periodic jangling of which creates a jail-like ambiance.
• Stunted and twisted trees grow out of the muck, barely reaching up to your chest. Theirs is a cruel and unforgiving existence.
• A somewhat mild fog makes it difficult to see the very edges of the plane as it gives the place a rather ambient grayness and damp.
• A traveling light wanders through the plane, enticing guests to follow it on a doomed circuitous journey around your dread realm.
• An abandoned and ancient chest hides an Aetherpane of darkest murk and shining salt, offering you all the secrets of the Aether at a somewhat acceptable pace.
• Your Throne lurks beneath the Reliquary, a chaise longue of rotten wood lined with softer moss and woody fungus rising safely above the surrounding muck, a spiky reminder of the burdens of infinite creativity.

Xenronack of D4

[Tools With Personality: 5]

You step over to the Aetherpane. Hey, you say. The Aetherpane pauses in its business, its screen becoming a white eye staring at you, blinking occasionally. Upperclassman, it says, seemingly in acknowledgement. Yes, you reply. Upperclassman right here. A strange redness appears along the edges. Upperclassman, it shouts with approval! It must sincerely beg your apologies! It did not notice upperclassman standing there! How can it serve upperclassman? Say the word, and everything will be done. Doing things for upperclassman is no trouble at all. A pleasure, even!

[Screaming Into The Void: 4+1]

Upperclassman needs to find mortals looking for gods, you tell the Aetherpane. It laughs awkwardly, then emits the sound of a finger snap. You got it, upperclassman! A few moments pass as hundreds of listings are processed faster than you can blink, and there is a sudden ding. Yay! There is one result, upperclassman. A cute puppy stands atop a rocky spire in a faraway plane, howling for master, but master is actually dead! Oh no! Can upperclassman help?

There is also one more, upperclassman, who is looking for upperclassman specifically! One Curator Xyr says upperclassman is thief! Shock! Horror! What slander! And offering reward for upperclassman's location, too! The nerve!

Oh, and one more thing, upperclassman's mother would like to ask if upperclassman would be so kind to accompany her when visiting upperclassman's father (who is in prison, oh!) sometime soon! Can upperclassman brighten the day of no doubt unjustly imprisoned parent?

Spoiler: Divine Status, D4 (click to show/hide)

Xenronack
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: communication)
Divine Power: 3

Allies:
Tiamat, Goddess of Evil Dragons

Plane D4

• The previous tenant's hot pink, heavily customized Aetherpane hangs in the fourth corner, eager to please upperclassman with the infinite amounts of information accessible with its extraordinarily good connection.
• The plane smells like Arcadian flower-scented air freshener, lingering from some previous cleanup campaign.
• Your magnificent Bone Throne graces one corner of the plane, looking very inviting as well as perhaps unfashionably risque out in the open. Its surface has been mildly browned by the power of your lamp.
• Your ultra-lamp is currently bathing your plane an unfriendly shade of Seemingly Harmless Red.
• In the other corner stands your lovely glass terrarium, filled with convincingly cheap props (some of them alive and none too pleased about it) and slightly-too-bright lighting that are sure to provide a good time.
• In the glass terrarium a miniscule race of half-inch rubbery mortals are trying to figure out why the invisible radiation of death is now red and seemingly harmless. The nearby living plastic plants seem to be taking the change rather well even if they seem somewhat heavily damaged by the initial burst of deadly space rays.
• In the other other corner is your plausibly repurposed cardboard Reliquary, currently filled with completely inedible packing peanuts. It seems to have miraculously not burst into flames just yet.
• The floor of the plane currently affords a view into the Connective Plane, which currently seems to have little happening in it.
• Red skulls of questionable origin and structure line the vault of heavens, glowing softly with red light.

Amaranta of B1

[Red Versus Green: 6+2]

Thinking about it, you guess the answer was right there to begin with. Gnomes like to live in bushes. They don't seem to like to be in sinister red stone temples. So you just go with what works, taking a strawberry bush and fashioning out of it a green tower of wood and vine from the bottom of the realm to the top, delicious strawberries hanging along the sides in delightful patterns, the inside of the tower furnished with living arrangements and myriad objects to revere and worship in your name if needed, a complex containing an example of every facet of the life you have envisioned for your pet gnomes, including a basic societal hierarchy. The gnomes, overcome by its beauty, flock inside immediately, and it is full nearly to bursting within moments before you're even finished, the tower granting safety and knowledge in equal measure. Priests chant your name through the windows in their squeaky gnome voices, and the first gnome queen leads her people in a unified song of praise as they tower over the surrounding plane.

The gnomes outside, kept out by physical impossibility if nothing else, immediately decide to build more towers like this, shaping the bushes in imitation, forming structures of their own as best as they are able. Soon enough towers are rising all over your plane, the gnomes of each trying to outshout one another in devotion and outdo everyone in skill, searching for as much as an appreciative look from their creator. Each asks if they are the best. And if not they, who then? And what must they do to usurp this most glorious of titles, to be blessed with your attention beyond the rest? Elaborate rituals? Displays of skill? Accoutrements of kingship? Whatever is needed, they try to build this and more, driven to desperation by the glory of the Great Tower.

Spoiler: Divine Status, B1 (click to show/hide)

Amaranta
Integrity: 5/5 (need compromised: refreshment)
Divine Power: 5

Allies:
Hassha, God of Silence
Atian the Elephantman God
Hanping, God of Fortuitous Coincidence and Opportunity

Plane B1

• The spacetime of the plane feels respectably aged and seasoned, a remnant of the snake god of time that lived here previously.
• The ground of the plane is fertile humus blessed with a wormlike intellect and rudimentary animation, currently bothering a crop of enormous strawberry bushes into impossible excellence.
• Strawberry bushes taller than the gods themselves scratch at the heavens as they sprawl along the top and bottom of the plane alike, spreading wildly and in a mazelike fashion.
• Your ancient and glorious Throne stands lopsided in your realm atop a risen thick bed of crushed strawberry bushes. A gnome community is in the middle of establishing a hierarchy of command beneath it.
• A functioning Aetherpane made of a convenient strawberry bush rises near the throne, an extradimensional lens of hardened resin offering mediocre universe overwatch.
• Your Reliquary is half-buried along the edge of the plane, tempting would-be treasure seekers.
• A self-sufficient budding society of gnomes has emerged in your realm, recognizing you as their creator and master. They coexist with soil and strawberry, leading carefree lives of contemplating the meaning of divine artifacts as they try to work out the beginnings of a society.
• The Red Temple towers over the gnomish populace on the plane floor, an unknown horror lurking within and sowing fear among your plane's inhabitants. The way you collapsed its roof seems to have only made it (and you) more frightening somehow. The environs of the temple are wandered only by the mad and the strange, and even then not for long.
• The Green Tower stretches from the bottom of the plane to the heavens themselves, housing the paragon gnome community of your plane, headed by the gnome queen and her cadre of Amarantine priests. They praise your name and generosity, and observe with benign contempt the other gnomes of the plane.
• Imitations of the Green Tower rise along your plane by gnomes too slow to get into the real one, seeking your affirmation and approval of their skills in relation to your own. This has very much solidified divisions between the gnomes of your plane.

Atian of C2

[A Good Spot: 3+2]

Fortunately, you have thought ahead before the need for break time even occurred to you, and left a very nice spot that you did not fill with horrendous traps specifically for yourself to recline on. It's a nice enough place to rest, you suppose, although it does fail to address the somewhat important concern of the invasive thought burrowing into your head. If anything, it makes these considerably worse the longer you reflect on them in an improper place. You feel like you need to move. To build. To consume the works of other gods so that yours continue to thrive.

You cannot live like this for long, this is for certain. Maybe this resting spot could work as a Throne. If you polished it up, of course. And maybe turned it into something more than a hill. This plane is becoming increasingly maddening, you fear. Maybe you need to get out. Visit friends. Or anyone, really. You need to get yourself in order.

Spoiler: Divine Status, C2 (click to show/hide)

Atian the Elephantman God
Integrity: 4/5 (needs compromised: communication, brooding, refreshment)
Divine Power: 2

Allies:
Amaranta

Plane C2

• Your roommate currently is in a state of existential flux. She is likely going to use this fact to mess with you somehow. That is, if she actually exists.
• Your lawn filled with rocks is dead. Murdered! And someone's responsible!
  
• A model palace stands in the middle of the room atop your sacred hill, the resting place of your Aetherpane as it awaits worthy mortals to bear its superb connectivity.
• Tiny salt-expelling trees cover the floor of the plane in miniature forests, filling it with a dense covering of salty leaves.
• The alarming sensation of being watched and that you are in mortal danger at all times informs you that your traps (and the traps within them, and the traps overlaying them) are in superb operating condition. If this was a tomb plane, you could almost certainly keep anything at all in here with the expectation of safety.
• A tiny freshwater river snakes out of the foot of the hill, spiraling around for a good bit before terminating uneventfully. It is powered by a mystical spring in the center of your sacred hill. It is inhabited by a teeming ecosystem of tiny and exquisitely delicious creatures, of which fish are the very largest.
• Two half-elves, temporarily dubbed Lumpy and Lady, inhabit your realm in an innocent, uncorrupted fashion, though they are a little bit larger than basically everything else in it due to a slight miscalculation of necessary materials. Lady is currently very dead. Lumpy is nowhere to be seen, but presumably isn't having a good time.
• Lovely miniature applenut trees beckon unwary travelers with their delicious subterranean applenut pods. Little does anyone know of the explosive surprises contained all around the trees, within the trees and in many places even vaguely associated with the trees (you like to be thorough).
• A resting spot free of traps awaits you on the hillside. Though of little comfort right now, you suppose it is some form of furniture in the negative sense (silhouetted by traps, you see).

Spoiler: GM Note (click to show/hide)

Since at least three gods have looked up job offers, from here on in they'll be posted at the bottom of every update. Suggestions from watchers and waitlisters are still very much welcome!

Spoiler: Requests for Assistance (click to show/hide)

• need help with afterlife sorting algorithm, creation covered + bonus payment, ask for vizzl at oeren'tressal
• Forest moon w/ hostile intent needs fleshing out within budgetary parameters. Currently looking for lowest bidders in Hyler, inquire within Cloud Administration. Have proposal draft ready (document instructions and planetary data included with listing).
• DEMON GENETICS FUCKED, NEED HELP PRONTO AT EIGHTFOLD HELLS OF MALDERIL
• Incongruous race of cute nilbogs needs new home. Look for Alindra in the Labyrinthine Wilds.
• Charismatic and attractive divinities warmly welcomed at the Evening Song to ensure magnificent call to power. Gods of all skill levels are free to apply!
• Have you seen this Monster? Lost "Margotaur" nick. Margo in some subplane. Contact Okilon if found.
  
• Reward offered for relic thief's location - perpetrator is a twisted mix of man, fish and dog, wields power of the gods. Bring any information about the thief's whereabouts in person to Curator Xyr at the Crystal Museum.

[ziizo]

Travel to oeren'tressal to answer vizzl request (if it needs a roll to get there +2 to this action)

[Pancaek]

"Thanks for coming over. I don't suppose I could get something to drink, something a bit refreshing? I've been travelling for a bit, you see."

Say the above to the wench. Then just enjoy myself for now, take in the sights and speak to a few people if they approach me. Be sure to introduce myself to the maiden I saw on the way in, with the red skin. Is she also mortal, by the way?

All actions go to the above.

[penguinofhonor]

"There's no need to compete for my attention," I tell the gnomes. "Honor me by enjoying life in harmony with each other."

I make some of the strawberries into strawberry wine and give it to the gnomes so they'll chill out a bit (+1 to this action).

I try to adjust my throne again, this time spreading the bushes beneath it outward to lower it a bit. Ideally it will look like it's on a low dias of bushes, some good contrast to all the towers going up around here.

[crazyabe]

I guess I Might as well go see mother when she visits father...
I say to my Aetherplane
afterwards I Go mess around with my Mini mortals...

[Atian the Elephantman God]

"Maybe I could go visit Amaranta."

Build a Palace big enough to for me in that spot.

In the Throne Room, build a throne that will inspire everything that see's it to have a throne as magnificent as mine!

Visit Amaranta's plane.

"Hey!"

[Harry Baldman]

Hm. I think I'll decisively drop the game at this point rather than dither any longer. It's fun to work on, certainly, and you're all lovely players and good sports, but at the end of the day the trouble is that each update takes me about 4 hours to do and I don't think I can manage that every two days, and to do an update more rarely would make the pace too sedate for my liking.

Might do this again sometime in the future, though. Maybe with 2 actions instead of 3 per turn. And some other changes. But for now, back to just one game to worry about. Good day to you all.

[Fniff]

Aww, I was about to write up my post. Apologies for my delay, I hope that didn't influence your decision.
This was a really fun experience anyway.