Nothing we make can we bring

[craftpunk]

WHO: Woden and Herr Starr
WHERE: Woden's party warehouse
WHEN: backdated to Aug 1st
WHAT: Woden starts putting things into place
WARNINGS: GORE AND DISMMEMBERMENT


The invitation to his warehouse was sent to Starr by a soft ping to his phone, a time, a place -- while Woden was hesitant to provide anyone with his location, when it came to Starr... there was little to hide. Starr knew many of his secrets -- not all -- but many. Even so, he had already escorted the source of his power to a small room, where the speakers thrummed with more music -- stay awake, stay awake, don't escape they called, but the song was faint in the large, echoing chamber of the warehouse. The sound of bass thrummed, distant. Woden's devices littered the ground, spears, feathers, items all over the place. A large, metal, eight-legged horse loomed, dead to the world at the moment, another outfit -- made for a woman -- glowing and neon sat on a mannequin. A hand twitched on a table, false, but already constructed.

Woden had his mask on, a knife on the table, a classic butcher's knife. Not at all the familiar weight that made David's fingers tremble just to think of holding it. His fingers touch the table, before he tapped his fingers, and waited for the tap, to signify that Starr was here. He'd been so amenable, and hopefully he hadn't lost his nerve.

Soon, soon. He was getting impatient.

Comments

[herrstory]

This was the sort of location one could conceivably go to be made a sacrificial lamb. And while that alone should have been enough to make Starr wary, he couldn't really imagine what good he would make as a sacrifice. He was more beneficial to Woden's cause alive, so he followed the guidance -- making note of the music surrounding him and the bass that vibrated beneath his feet. It certainly was a far cry from the fancy restaurant he had gone to with David, but this was David's element. Well, perhaps not David's.

When they finally arrived at David's location, Starr stood -- tall and erected, behaving as he was escorted into the room, and when they were alone (or perhaps as alone as they were going to be, if Woden chose to keep the other around) -- Starr spoke up, a sharp eye on the reflective mask.

"So we are doing this in full..." Costume, he wanted to say. But that might have been offensive, so he opted for: "...uniform?"

[craftpunk]

"We can't have...prying eyes," he said, his helmet tipped in the direction of where Dionysus was being kept. He wasn't visible, but... David wasn't about to take the chance that he'd be seen. Caught. He planned to return to this with none the wiser, and David Blake still secure in his position as a mild, unassuming presence on the network. "I have...things in place, but don't worry, they won't see, or hear anything," they shouldn't. "I prefer to take precautions. It's how...things have progressed so swimmingly, my paranoia," he pointed out, and turned to walk in deeper.

There was also the... addition that David didn't know what his face would say, when faced with Starr, and more importantly -- a knife. He knew what it felt like in his hand, he knew just how hard to cut to line through bone. He knew how hard he would need to slice, and the prospect of the memory of Jon's bones underneath his fingers was...

Well, there were even some things that others didn't need to know. David wanted to keep his sacrifice far and away. A secret, even still.

"Relax, Starr," he said, and turned around from the table, where the hand twitched. "The newer model is going to be a big upgrade."

[herrstory]

"I am entirely calm. Unless there is some reason I should not be?"

Things in place. Starr glanced behind David as if he could see what those things were. It didn't matter if they supposedly couldn't see or hear anything. If they were there, there was always a chance. And Starr didn't have the greatest reputation here, but he was building something and couldn't risk losing that if someone were to speak of his presence here.

Regardless, he stepped forward and sat at the table stiffly. His eyes drifted toward the hand that would soon be his own, studying it -- leaning forward and looking over each side to ensure there weren't any deformities or any other oddities.

"But will I still be able to masturbate with it?" Perhaps the most important question of all.

[craftpunk]

"Ah, priorities!" Woden said, and a hand stuck into the air, postulating like the professor he was, even with his musical, neon-soaked voice, the echoes of David Blake, PhD were clear in the way he moved and spoke. Starr could see it, where others couldn't, and David appreciated that in their interactions, that he could be truly himself around Starr, and didn't have to hide. Even around Starr, David's posture straightened, and Woden's mannerisms meshed with the person he pretended he was not.

"Yes, that should be no problem," he added, and held up the knife. "I won't lie, the last time I cut off a body part..." even with the way his helmet tipped, the impression of a side-eye was clear. "It was more by surprise than consensually," a laugh, it sounded like a warped sound effect. "This is a new experience for me."

"I'm looking forward to giving you power," he admitted. "You have more context than most..." he trailed off.

[herrstory]

The last time I cut off a body part... Said Woden so casually it nearly entertained Herr Starr. This wasn't a typical conversation. But then again, Starr supposed it wasn't a typical circumstance. So in answer, he merely shrugged. "It normally is not consensual to remove a limb. Unless one is into some highly kinky things."

Which Starr was. So they were good here. His mouth twisted into a smirk as he pulled up the sleeve of his left hand. Starr opted for his non-dominant hand, just in case the prosthetic was difficult to work with. He still needed a good hand for masturbation, after all!!

"I look forward to embarking on this journey with you. Although I hate to disappoint you when I say I'm not much of a screamer." His eyes agleam with dark humor.

[craftpunk]

"And that was most certainly the furthest thing," he admitted, his tone almost askance. After all, it had been his only son, sacrificed for power, not that Starr knew that. David still had some things to be cagey about, and he wasn't going to break that for even Starr. Not yet. Not until this moment has passed, and David knows he can trust Starr.

After all, he'd thought Ren would be open to it, and Ren found it abhorrent.

"Oh don't worry, I like it," he laughed, soft. "When they're silent. It lets me concentrate," he hefted the blade, and waved it at Starr, as if to make a point. "I do, however, recommend that you are still."

David placed the sharp edge of the blade against his skin, and drew blood.

He started to saw. Slowly, as if testing the waters.

[herrstory]

There was something remarkable about Herr Starr's pain tolerance. He had been a soldier. He had endured a great deal of torture throughout his many years of service. So he didn't even flinch or twitch his hand when the blade began to saw. The only evidence of his discomfort was a mild flicker of his eyebrow and a further tightening of his jaw.

His eyes were on the reflective surface of David's helmet as though he could make eye contact with the man. "Would it not be more efficient to do one swift, clean cut? Or does this particular magic require more blood to be sacrificed?"

Because it had started to flow quite freely onto the table before them the deeper David got.

[craftpunk]

David stares back at him, even though he knows that Starr cannot really see his eyes, or the half-manic twist of his lips, the way his hand grips the blade oh-so-hard, and the way he can imagine his son's hair between his fingers, as he slices away at his neck, peeling flesh and gore away, removing his head from his body.

Certainly, it would go faster, but David... David doesn't know how to do things the easy way. "All magic requires suffering," is all he says, because his knife continued to slice against his flesh, deeper, and deeper. He hits bone, and he pressed harder.

"Sacrifice...is inherent. In what we do. In gaining power. Even I have sacrificed a great deal. You handle it better than most," he admits, before he pressed through the weakest junction in the bone, and the force of it cut clean through the rest of the hand.

[herrstory]

"Yes. Well." Tightly spoken. Starr was speaking through grit teeth, clenching the hand being cut as though he could focus the pain elsewhere. At least until the nerves and muscle was settled. "There is suffering and there is torture."

And Starr wasn't accusing David of the latter, but like. This was pretty damn close to it. He actually allowed himself a breath of relief when the hand was completely severed.

"You will need to work quickly in attaching the other." He casually informed. Already, the freely spilling blood and the freshly cut bone were starting to get to work on mending themselves. The entire hand would take hours to regenerate. But if David needed a fresh wound to attach his magics to, then he had but moments.

Of course, they could always reopen the wound if need be. Starr had come this far. He wasn't about to shy away from what came next.

[craftpunk]

There was a slight pause, and Woden watched his skin and bone slowly start to recover, before he laughed, the sound from his helmet musical and delighted. "I see that," he said, before he reached out, to grab the item from his table. It was life-like, human like. Only vaguely could one tell that it wasn't quite real. The only indicator was that it lacked signs of life, like it belonged to a body that had been bled dry.

It didn't take long, he pressed it to the juncture, the fresh wound and the hand at the wrist, and Woden held a hand over it, as if he were saying a prayer -- albeit a silent one. His hands wrapped around his wrist, at the point where they merged, and he gripped -- hard.

It wasn't magic, exactly; but it wasn't science, either. It was... power, in its purest form, and when David pulled his hand away, the flesh and the artificial work was affixed.

"Are you familiar with the god, Tyr?" he asked, his tone musical, but with a slight levelness, as if he had fallen into instruction mode.

[herrstory]

Starr was fascinated by this -- more than his bleeding injury healing up, he was fascinated by David's work. How he could take a hand that wasn't real and make it appear as such. How he could attach it to his body and it would cause his body to accept it as its own -- to hinder the healing process because it had already been 'healed.' And when David drew his hand away, Starr looked at it -- inspected it and then dared to lift a finger to see how it cooperated.

Like it was a part of him all along, really.

His attention was drawn toward Woden once again when he started to speak. "Hm? Oh. Moderately familiar." Starr hadn't quite studied up on the myths or anything. But as part of being a member of the Grail and murdering false idols on a daily business, he did have to at least be familiar with names of other deities. "That is....one of the Norse gods, correct?"

[craftpunk]

"Correct!" he lifted a finger, in explanation. One hand came behind his head, the music in the back surged slightly, like a spark of power had imbued it. Really, David had needed the extra burst, to maintain such things. He was creating and crafting, each item was unique, but necessary, but it stretched his power too far, and weakened it, without the god hidden away in the back rooms.

"Tyr lost his hand to Fenris, when they trapped him. They feared the spawn of Loki, and decided to sequester him away. He is the god of justice, and law," he looked at the hand. One could barely notice that it looked different. Much like Woden's own pinky, which Persephone had snipped off.

"Fenrir is a mighty figure, as well. The being that kills Tyr, when Ragnarok comes, in its own poetic majesty," he described, the usual drone of the professor who felt too happy to spread his knowledge. Even in this form, with these clothes, Woden could hardly help but postulate further about his mythology.

[herrstory]

"I hope that little tidbit at the end is not some sort of hint you will be creating a Fenrir to 'take me out' so to speak." His eyebrows lifted. Though everything else about what Woden said sounded agreeable. God of justice and law. They were things Starr stood for. They were things he could have easily embodied.

"So with the sacrifice of my hand comes the gain of Tyr's abilities. And I imagine if I were to lose this hand, I would lose those powers as well?" Which speaking of powers.... "What are those powers, anyway?"

[craftpunk]

David's lips curled into a smile. "Oh certainly not. Tyr reigned for many millennia before the Twilight came, and... I'm trying to move on from Ragnarock -- " a little joke for himself. "Besides, unless you know of any wolves out there running around with a penchant for mythology, we should avoid that entirely."

David paused, and moved to a pad, where he'd jotted down some notes.

"You will have a song," he said, and gestured. "You may feel free to try it, although I would suggest doing so with a susceptible audience first. These don't work on me. You will inspire the need to conquer," a wave. "Oh, and I added a little something special -- much more up your... religious alley."

[herrstory]

"I shall give it a whirl so to speak on the unsuspecting masses." Something Starr was eager to get to testing out right now, actually. Though he didn't want to necessarily end this meeting before David had said all that needed said. So, he sank back into his seat, leveling his gaze on Woden with a faint smirk.

"It will be interesting to see what you included for me. Personally. Is there anything in particular you wish for me to achieve while I have these powers? Or is it my decision what to do with them?"

[craftpunk]

"It will be purely your decision," he stated, but lifted a finger. "The rest as well, but... they will have a few compulsions. No selling me out," he ticked the requirements off on his fingers. "No giving me up to the Pantheon, no attacking me, they will believe they are the gods themselves..." that blank helmet turned to him, and he looked straight at Starr.

"I would, of course, suggest that you incorporate such attitudes yourself," a soft laugh. "Think of yourself as the...me of the party. I suspect you will not sell me out, being that we're friends, and all."

[herrstory]

"Of course not. I have little reason to do so." Not when Woden was supplying the power. Not when he so clearly had an out with the supposed compulsion. Oh, I was not in my right state of mind. He could easily claim to get himself out of trouble without tossing the one who bestowed the power under the bus.

"But as always, when you involve more people -- you need to ensure they will not be the problems. I assume you have carefully vetted your picks." He idly tapped the table with his new hand.

[craftpunk]

"Well enough. They will... not be able to do anything but comply," he grinned behind his mask. "I have some measures in place. Mind control is painfully easy when you have the right people leading the charge."

But he didn't elaborate. He instead turned that impassable, impenetrable helmet Starr's way. "How's the hand? Working?"

[herrstory]

He nodded. Starr not at all seemed bothered by the fact that Woden was casually mentioning mind control. In fact, it was the opposite. He found it inspiring that Woden had the power to do that...however he was able to acquire the power. Or perhaps it was....innate all along.

Maybe David Blake could be a potential Messiah to throw his lot in with, if Chilton didn't work out.

"The hand is fine. It responds well. Though it will take some getting used to in order to be able to control the strength of the grip when I cannot quite feel it. But I suppose those are things I can work out in my own time." Definitely with masturbation.

Starr rose to his feet. "Well then, if there is nothing else...?"