V3 Incline 17: Sraacdchammu, God of Giants

"W-W-Why wouldn't I!? She's a goddess who plays an extremely vital role with everyone!" Nin finally manages to answer after a tense minute following his reseating.

"No!" Aahtha goes as she leans closer to him, shifting into her adult form, "Like-like. Someone you'd cuddle up with on the sofa, watching the ToT?"

"Why would I cuddle her!?" Nin blurts in disbelief as he struggles to look away from the suddenly perfectly voluptuous goddess. Her full lips a little too close for Undwote's steadily searing discomfort.

"Because that is what you do when you like someone." Aahtha reminds the human as she knocks the place his heart would've been thudding not that long ago.

"I liked my friends! Doesn't mean I cuddled them because I liked them!" Nin tells her, only for his gaze to shake as he realises the past tense he approached the situation with. My right hand's digits flex uncertainly as I physically contemplate patting him on the back, I pull it back to my side.

"You know I do not mean that kind." she says as she wraps herself against the mortal, nearly smothering him with her inspired body, "The kind of like that leads to lots and lots... Lots... Of joyous screaming."

"Ok! That's enough!" Undwote goes as his fist suddenly strikes the counter. I cover my mouth as my tickled fancy threatens to burst out rapturously. Nin, meanwhile, is burning up to the point only heart-pulled ash may remain.

"What are you lot doing?" Motrtha asks as she hurries back with all of our food. A little girl laughs and Aahtha skedaddles off the stool before she rushes down the stairs with her toy. I nearly lick my lips at the food my sister is carrying in, but, Nin really wishes he could be dead beyond death.

With the recently spoken words so powerfully imprinted on his mind, he cannot help but buckle under my elder sister's gaze.

"They didn't ask you anything inappropriate, did they?" Motrtha asks him as she leans on the bar after putting the food down. Eagerly, I take up what should be mine and my hands rub together eagerly before my fingers flex impatiently.

My sister, however, catches the smirk on my face whenever I look Nin's way.

"Hey! Hey!" I moan as she takes my food away and pinches my cheek with twisting fingers. The teased mortal groans loudly as my older brother mumbles to himself. Watching enviously as he eats his chips, I frown my annoyance as he goes about it strangely. He asked for chilli on top but he's avoiding it completely!

At the very least, he's not taking a bite, putting it down and then pacing about...

"Undwote... What happened?" Motrtha demands to know as my older brother digs into his food, trying to hide his gaze as he does so.

"Nope." he goes as his own thoughts on the matter frustrate him.

"Undwote..."

"Not telling." he effectively repeats.

Motrtha sighs her annoyance as Nin tries to keep his mind focused on the burger. Like the curious little thing he is, he carefully pulls up the top bun so he can look down at the contents. The other hand starts to peck away at the bacon bits in the melted cheese slice. He barely begins to nibble one before he goes back for another.

"Motrtha."

"Yes Nin?" she answers almost instantly.

"What's 'ToT?' Aahtha mentioned it before you came back." Nin asks as he lets the bun go back down onto the meat pile.

"ToT? Oh, that is the Tournament of Talent. Gladiatorial games made up of the strongest fighters from the mortal world. Dad offers them a chance to partake, though many simply stumble into the games after beating one of the six entry fights." she explains before her powers change the TV channels to the divine network that records these fights.

"Oh, there's a match on right now?" I ask as a familiar set-up comes into view.

"Coincidentally, yes. Right here, Nin, we have the strongest and oldest of all mortals on show. Rohlandantyr, the One-Winged Swordsman." my sister explains as Nin nods along, most of his brain focusing on the food. I give a passing glance to the angelically armoured man and his heavenly-inspired war gear so ornate in its piety

"I don't really get the point of him, personally. We're in the games as the highest-ranked fighters but no one can get past him, it's impossible." I grumble as it is sort of boring only being able to fight to a standstill with my siblings. Dad could change the rules of this whole thing, but, nope, we have to wait for someone to beat Rohlandantyr.

Not even the king of that up-and-coming empire of mortals on the continent with the Wind Guardian wants to try...

Glancing up at the screen, my eyes nearly glaze over as the victory tallies, ranks and other technical gibberish come up. Ranked at the one-hundredth and first position, the One-Winged Swordsman is a fine divider between actual fun in this thing. I am somewhat curious to see what my tally is compared to my other siblings, but, that's never Dad's focus. He likes to narrow on the mortals when it comes to this.

Three million enrolled combatants with the six elemental emperors serving as the entry exam. Jaadagoren likes to coach them as they're dragons, but she might as well be useless as she's too lazy to actually live up to her words. Though, the strongest of the six, the Wind-Empress, she has her master to coach her, the king at rank one-o-two. Thinking of, actually.

Does Dad have any plans to do anything about that guy's involvement with Jhrarda...?

I shake my head as the screen suddenly shifts over to a spotlight talk on the mortal ranked at one-o-three. I smile as Oceinater bubbles with excitement from the slushie machine. The spokesman for the ToT blabbers excitedly on about the world's largest slug. A small little thing that literally grew fat from strength until it swallowed the Water Guardian, now it -is- the esteemed link in the planet's divine defences.

"So who is heading for the chopping block?" Undwote wants to know as he leans back against the counter. A somewhat miserable expression on his face as he is reminded of one of the few souls neither he nor Waionr have control over.

"It seems he is fighting someone from... Rank one-five-two..." I say, reading the guy's stat line as Nin looks up from his meal with a greasy face.

The screen shifts and shows two fighters, Rohlandantyr in his golden, iconographic armour of blessed plate and robe. A flat, rectangular-ish sword of light in his hands which in theory, can cut through anything, even concepts like us. Grim curiosity makes me want to push the topic with this unbelievably ancient hybrid. But, he seems to be too respectful of what we are to test that himself.

On the other side...

"Kuetaga, Realm Destroyer." Undwote mumbles as I try to keep in my snicker over the guy's pine-cone-like hair.

"I would start a betting pool, but we know who will win." I remark as Dad's voice fills our ears. Like the pedantic little fight nerd He is, He starts to blabber on about the number of victories Rohlandantyr has. However, curiously enough, Kuetaga, despite his blatant in-comparison youthfulness has a vastly more in-depth killscore.

A number so big it needs to be put down in the style of 'to-the-power-of,' a relation to his title no doubt. I can only guess this means he's from one of Dad's personal realms of reality, the things He makes when He's bored. Or, from back when He first became what He is... Like Rohlandantyr here.

"I want the winged one to win." Nin remarks between bites as a whole solar system forms in a somewhat natural, albeit accelerated manner. Spiralling clusters of rock and gas come together and the view keeps on expanding. As does the realm of reality in which the fight will take place. Entire planets will be up for destruction, something Nin may have never imagined possible.

"Heh, the mighty One-Winged Swordsman... This is all you are? A flying mute cripple in gold!? HAHAHAHAHAHA! I am disappointed! I have destroyed planets with flicks and genocided their inter-solar empires with my mere breath! You think a glowstick can best me!? THE REALM DESTROYER!" the ignorant fighter boasts throughout the void as the pair settle down on the empty space between physicality.

I quickly look to Nin to make sure the volume has been properly adjusted for his ears as even the planets on screen are trembling at its echoes. Storms erupt throughout the atmosphere and with a little divine help, I can see the earthquakes and mountain-flattening soundwaves,

Rohlandantyr does not speak, his bladeless hilt simply ignites. The First Man walks forward, slowly, as the counter to the match decreases. Zero. Rohlandantyr keeps on walking, his hilt with no light once again.

"ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY!" Dad roars into His mic as Kuetaga falls apart, cleanly bisected.

"Huh? What happened? Nothing occurred but everything is now over. Why is everything suddenly two?" Nin lets out, confused, baffled and most importantly, disappointed. It nearly ruins his appetite, but, Motrtha's cooking is just that good.

"That was it, Rohlandantyr won as you hoped, it's ju-"

"You cannot see the actions of what occurred because you are too weak." Waionr explains in my stead as he loudly steps up into the bar area in full gear. My war-minded brother strokes his chin as Nin continues to watch that just-made realm of reality fall apart into many sets of two. Along a single, fine cut.

"Someone mind explaining it to me, then?" Nin asks as Motrtha mutes the screen so Dad's childish antics don't disrupt the conversation.

"He made a single slash across the width of an entire celestial collection. Slashing its star straight along the horizontal centre along with the rest of the planets and moons in its orbit. All at a speed so impossible to comprehend that you need to have been sired by Father to even have the slightest chance of picking up what occurred." Waionr waffles on grandiosely.

"He went really fast and went slash." Undwote clarifies to the somewhat lost mortal with mildly humourous sound effects. Nin's head shuts down and he goes back to his food, content with ignoring how strong we gods and goddesses are.

"So... About what Aahtha was pestering you with?" Motrtha asks with a sly smile as she lingers in front of Nin, polishing the counter needlessly. The mortal meanwhile cannot take his mind off of the food, a pleasure so fine that Motrtha may in fact be Aahtha's concept when she cooks.

"Aahtha was asking me if I liked you enough to leave you screaming during cuddle sessions." Nin mindlessly answers as he continues to gorge himself on the Smokey Mountain. I chuckle under my breath as the thing that was embarrassing Nin so easily moments ago does nothing now.

"Oh? Would you... Would you perhaps have any objections to such a thing, should I ask it of you?" Motrtha asks with half-closed eyes as she leans in on one of her palms. One hand walks about on its fingers and she smiles innocently as she discovers that Nin can offer her what none of us can't.

"Uh..." I go dumbfounded as I hear something crack in Undwote's grip behind me. A chilling aura creeps up onto my back and Pluuit limps away, hooting quietly as he wilts under the dreaded winter conditions. I blink carefully and look for a cloud of mist other than Undwote's arctic fog but find nothing.

"Don't see why not, you are perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Aahtha may reflect my desires, but being the most desirable woman in my view is not the same as being the most beautiful." Nin explains nonchalantly as he wolfs down more of his food. A few wet pops leave his mouth as he cleans his finger of sauces.

My brother's face comes by with the straightest expression in all of existence and eyes that might be able to kill.

Motrtha, on the other hand, flushes red and she bounces back with a smile. She hides her less-than-innocent smile and red cheeks behind a hand and the other twirls the ends of her apron. This must've certainly been a first for her, for all of us, actually. Being called beautiful by someone outside of the family, by someone she is actually able to interact with physically...

"Well... If you really think that... Maybe you would like to come to my room later? I can show you just how beautiful I am?" Motrtha suggests with a girlish giggle as a certain flaw in her existence exploits this mess. One of her fingers idly draws circles with the water left by the condensation on our glasses.

I nudge Nin harshly.

"Huh? What you want?" he asks cluelessly as he looks around at all the expressions he is getting. He shuffles no-distance away on his stool, protective of what little remains of his food. Eyeing my sister carefully, she is entranced by his tongue as it cleans the juices and grease from his soul's lips.

"D-Did you enjoy your meal?" she asks after shaking her head suddenly. Too embarrassed to go on as smoke seems to emanate from her.

"Very much so. Very... Much so..." he lets out blissfully as the full belly which he is patting helps him ignore us.

"I... I'm glad you did.." Motrtha answers rather frustratedly before she departs. I watch her white-knuckle hand clench whatever she can and she retires from her barmaidly duties. I frown in thought as this is likely going to lead to a conversation with Dad.

"Well, guess I'll help myself!" I go with a clap of my hands before I lean over the counter to pour myself something fresh and possibly strong. A bit of booze will also really help with this cold on my right!