“And? What of my desire to set foot on one of these mortal worlds?”

The words were spoken in a heated tone, directed at the lone shinjin sitting at the kotatsu in the middle of the room. This older being sat silently with his hands clasped on the table before him. His skin was a light shade of blue, one of the myriad of colors natural to his kind. White hair draped down his back, though it was also receding from the front and the top. Eyes closed, the wrinkled shin sighed.

“They have decided to allow it -- if just to shut you up.” The words were almost spat out, the black eyes opening, coldly staring at the tea set in the middle of the table. The shinjin had heard the request numerous times; a plea on deaf ears for centuries. What had made the elders actually give in and grant such a request? The universe wasn’t in that bad of shape. Or perhaps…

Masque huffed as the older shinjin answered his question. It was about time. For ages he had sat around, obeying the rules, and just watching hell unleash itself. Sure, he could have left and gone about the place all on his own. But should he dable in the affairs of mortals, the Kais would surely have a thing or two to say about it. Now, though, Masque had their permission to leave the world of the kais. He could travel wherever he pleased and, if they were paying attention to him at any point in his miserable life, do whatever he pleased as well. They had to know he would interfere; stick his nose into things where it didn’t belong. So now the question was… Why?

“Good enough!” The younger shinjin clapped his hands before him, even as he continued to pace back and forth along the far wall across from Mychius. He would have time to ponder on the intentions of the Kais along his journey. For now, it was best that Masque got on his way before they changed their minds. He paused his pacing to turn and face his.. His… Well, what was Mychius to him? Friend? Not quite. Mentor? Ha, that’s a good one. Butler? Sometimes. But as he thought it over, it seemed the older shinjin spoke words that aligned with what Masque’s thoughts were leading to.

“I’ll take you to Earth when you’re ready. They’ve given me permission to transport you there -- Even off world, you’re still my responsibility. Unfortunately.” The older shin sipped on a tea cup he had poured for himself waiting on his charge to ponder about. The lad, though having been alive for half a millenia, was still in the prime of youth in terms of shinjin life spans. And he still had the misguided ambitions that came with that youth. The Kais hoped that letting the boy experience the universe first hand would wisen him up. There were really only a few possibilities, after all. Either Masque would succeed in his desire to force peace and order upon the universe or he would fail and be humbled by his experience. Or, and Mychius’ secret hope, the younger shinjin would be killed in some ridiculously humiliating manner.

Masque fell to his knees, slamming his hands onto the short table. “Well, what are you waiting for?! Let’s go!”

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Masque felt the air shift around him, the warming comfort of his home immediately change into something a tad bit chilly. That, and the wind had picked up as well. The hand Mychius had placed on his shoulder had been removed, and words wishing him farewell were cut short by the shinjin’s hurried departure. Masque was too stunned to care, however, as he was finally here; finally amongst the mortals he so wished to set straight. Smiling beneath his mask, the young shinjin’s eyes were wide as he glanced about taking in the sights of this world known as Earth. Sure, he had witnessed it a few times through the various monitoring systems that the Kais employed, but to actually be here was something entirely different.

There was a roar then, a loud noise that seemed to come from above. It had always been there; the entire time he was admiring the ground he walked upon. But only now was it such a cacophony that Masque took notice. It came from behind him, which led to the Shinjin glancing back over his shoulder. His eyes remained wide even as his hidden mouth shifted from a smile to a gaping hole. It happened too quick. Or was it simply that Masque was frozen in place? A new world, new sights, new smells; a curious mind trying to figure it all out when something went wrong. A large flaming sphere was hurtling down at the ground at enormous speeds, and the shinjin just stood there staring like some dumb child.

Sure, the crash was some distance away -- enough that Masque could still remain standing where he was with just a bit of bracing -- but it was still quite the sight. That, and when the dust settled, the shinjin was covered in dirt and dust from head to toe. He stood silent when all was said and done, his right eye twitching at the sudden explosion that dirtied his clothing. But the silence didn’t last long as, with a flick of his hand, the dirt separated itself from his body. It floated a few inches away from him, hovering in the air as Masque made sure he was completely clean once again. Another flick of his wrist, and the dirt fell to the ground in a nice little ring around his feet. Sighing as his head throbbed slightly from such a waste of his abilities, the shinjin stepped over the ring and began to approach the crater that now lay some distance away.

There was a loud THUNK, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground from within the crater. Throwing caution to the wind, Masque approached, his hands clasped behind his waist as curiosity got the best of him. Standing at the edge of the crater, the shinjin bore witness to the humanoid figure clamber out of the smoking pod; apparently some sort of ship for interplanetary travel. Not a very good one, however, as the ship sustained a bit of damage and any hope of soft landing seemed to be out of the question. And as for the person having climbed out… Well, they were now just a heap on the ground. Sighing, Masque stepped into the crater and half stumbled, half slid to the bottom. He walked past the door that had been ripped from its hinges, straight towards the unconscious being and the smoldering ship they had come in on.

“Hmm? You alive down there?” The shinjin said, nudging the unconscious woman with the toe of his boot. He figured that the humanoid was female; it appeared so. But he’d seen weirder things before. That, and he doubted she, or he or it or whatever, wasn’t dead. Mortals usually had short life spans, but were also quite resilient.

The woman, which Masque still wasn’t quite sure about, slowly came to. She seemed rather pissed to be nudged awake, though the rough shape she was in meant that she was probably lucky just to wake up in the first place. “Obviously, nothing. The dead are awake and breathing too, you know. Just not here on this plane.” Masque squatted down, bringing his arms forward and resting them on his knees. His eyes glanced at the empty space just above the woman’s head as she started to sit up. There was no halo there, which would normally signal that one was alive. Maybe it was an obvious thing that she was still alive? The shinjin grunted and stood just as the woman started to climb to her feet.

He was like a curious child, watching some injured insect or perhaps a small rodent trying to get back on its feet. Masque knew plenty about the mortal races; he’d done nothing but watch them for centuries. But he had never met one -- until today. This specimen was obviously weary from something other than just the crash of their transport; the ship was damaged but not nearly enough to reflect the damage that the woman had suffered. Or the damage she had had before. Her body seemed to be healing itself somehow. Masque reached out, innocently enough, as if wanting to touch the humanoid to verify that they were real. But he withdrew his hand before making contact, just as the woman spoke again.

“Condition? Poison?” The shinjin reached up with the drawn back hand, lightly touching the metal that covered his lower face. He often forgot that he wore this mask, having gotten used to the weight on his face. “Hmph. It’s doubtful you’d understand, but you could say… Both?” Masque dropped his hand, returning it behind his waist and clasping the other. “Poison isn’t always scented, you know. Doesn’t have to be breathable either. But it’s less about keeping the poison out, and more about keeping it in.” Masque watched the woman’s actions, bringing his hand forward yet again to point at the bottle she drank from. “There’s a good example right there. Poison can be drinkable. Or eatable. Or simply transferred through touch. Grandma could have been quite the alchemist, you know. Unscented, with no taste?”

He was rambling. It happened on occasion when he got on a topic he enjoyed. Sighing, he reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, closing his eyes as he did so. “Right, right. My apologies.” He returned his hand behind his waist before opening his eyes once more.

“I’m Masque. A Shinjin; destined to watch over the universe and all that jazz. Some of the less developed peoples call us gods, but I wouldn’t go so far as that.”

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Zerori