Rites

An Attempt at Carnality

The Mirror had always watched, always mimicked, but now, [xiaochou.name] believed it was ready for a true attempt. Whom would you suggest as the target of Carnality?

ID: 5000313

Type: None

Tips: None

Duration: 1 days

Waits For: 0 days

Marked as New Only on First Occurrence: 0

Starts Automatically: No

Triggers Result Automatically: No

Tag Tips: None

Tag Tips Up: None

Tag Tips Text: None

Random Text: None

Random Text Up: None

Actions When Wait Expires

This rite has no actions when the wait expires.

Slots

Slot #1
The Mirror’s attempt at Carnality

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Activation Conditions

This rite has no activation conditions.

Outcome

Prior

This rite has no prior outcome.

Regular

I’ll Do It Myself
You'd been longing for a tumble with [s1.name]—and it wasn’t the least bit surprised by your choice.

It took your hand and drew aside a curtain—like the opening of a play—but behind it lay not your bedchamber, but a smooth, mirror-like slab of deep green crystal.

Right before your eyes, [s1.name] shed its outer garments, then the human guise altogether, revealing a gem-like form—without even asking whether you preferred it as man or woman! It simply led you into a mist of quicksilver. In a labyrinth of shifting mirrors, it coupled with you in ways you’d imagined—or never dared to—as if scripting every erotic tale ever spun onto your frail flesh and soul. Pleasure and craving tore at you; you plummeted between reason and madness, until you forgot the thing embracing you was cold and inhuman, until there was no space left upon you to mark… Guided by the Mirror’s quicksilver ink, you fell into endless dark...

Dark...

A stronger force wrenched you back. The Mirror let out a soft sigh and released your hand. You awoke, weak, in your own bed, your body a canvas of carnality. Every shield, blade, mirror—every surface that could catch the light—had rusted overnight. It no longer watch you.

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Maggie is the Best
At your words, [s1.name] gave you a strange smile.

"I know what you're longing for," it said with a mysterious wink. Suddenly, you couldn’t move—your vision narrowed to a small, unyielding circle framing Maggie’s face. You’d never observed her so closely before, watching her frown slightly over the faintest wrinkles and flaws, invisible to anyone else.

You were spellbound—until a man stepped behind her and picked up the rouge at her side. Damn him, he wore your face!

You could only watch as he tinted your wife’s lips, then kissed away the excess color. Maggie scolded him playfully but let him lead her behind the curtain. Soon, the sounds of breathy moans filled the air, hot with passion—Damn it, you strained to see more, but you were trapped! You pounded at the window of your vision until the world spun—

Sound of crash.

"Darling... what was that?" "Just a broken mirror, don’t worry..."

Damn it all—you’d become the mirror, and the shameless Mirror had become you! It took days for you to learn how to slip between mirrors, observing from every angle. Longer still to master sliding into any smooth surface to spy on that impostor: you watched him effortlessly finish destroying all the cards in your stead, saw him and Maggie grow impossibly close, meeting daily in every corner for... meetings. Alas, their—no, your story was sung in ballads, every mirror praising them as lovers everybody envied. But Maggie was your wife! Yours!

You roared, your face twisted in fury, countless mirrors trembling and shattering under your rage, rivers and seas churning to denounce this sham, this fabricated reality, this thief of fate! Then you heared the sound of crash again.

You snapped back. Maggie lay beneath you. "Darling... what’s wrong?" Her soft arms wrapped around your neck. You glanced at the vanity—a mirror lay toppled, its laughter mocking. You kissed Maggie’s eyelids and murmured, "Just a broken mirror, don’t worry."

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Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you and gave [s2.name] a rather unflattering review: "Too weak—and no, I don’t mean in bed."

[s1.name] recounted how it had crafted for him a... well, classic tale of prince’s vengeance. "But no matter how I tried to steer him toward that palace where his parents and sisters lay buried, he’d flee the night before! He can’t do anything alone—needs to be pushed, needs to be led, needs someone to arrange everything and then force him through... A man like that can’t be the hero of an epic."

"So I changed tactics. I shaped a fallen beauty, wove a string of coincidences to bring them together—love? Maybe not. But they did end up in bed, and he had a grand time! As if all he needed in this world was a place to hide and indulge. Pity, though—before I could add a touch of tragedy to the lady’s tale, before I could give him one last nudge, some petty Star-Souled intervened..."

[s1.name] clearly hadn’t enjoyed it as much as it hoped, but there were no regrets. "Still, the ending was obvious from the start. Well, no fun in a story whose tail you can see from the first page."

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Action:

For days, [s1.name] vanished without a trace—until your frantic knocking on every reflective surface you could find finally drew the Mirror forth, weak and weary. Its face emerged from the glass, half-scorched by white flames that still licked at its skin. "You almost had me killed," [s1.name] rasped. "I’d barely begun... and nearly got purged for it. Lucky for me, it can shatter a thousand impious mirrors, but not yet boil away the world’s oceans... Enough. I need rest. Don’t call for me—not yet."

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Promise of Pleasure
The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night. The Mirror told you how it had crafted for Badriyyah a dazzling, hallucinatory afterlife—just as the Cultic God had vowed. No more hunger, no more weariness. They could couple with their lovers without the burden of flesh, for pleasure was a switch buried deeper still. They even witnessed the Cultic God’s judgment upon sinners, those souls cloaked in pure radiance yet rotten to the core—each one ripe for torment and defilement! She was overjoyed!" [s1.name] sneered. "At last, I had the Cultic God ask her: Are you content with all this? She said yes, and wished to remain there forever. And so, she became the heroine of a poem—ah, and here it is, already written." With that, [s1.name] drew from the robe a slender volume, its emerald cover gleaming like a gem. Upon it, a maiden smiled—Badriyyah’s very likeness, still beaming even now.

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The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night, recounting how it had tailored a series of grand adventures for Jabal—a chosen wanderer traversing the continent, stumbling into bizarre incidents at every turn, unearthing hidden wonders and ancient truths...

"But road tales tend to grow stale and repetitive, don’t they? Given his love for adventure, for battling mighty beasts, I had reason to suspect he harbored... certain inclinations toward them. Uncommon tastes, I know, but someone’s got to write the niche tales, right? So I crafted for him the ultimate foe, a heart-pounding final clash, and a... captivating resolution. But he woke up in terror before things could even get started! Should’ve said something sooner—I’d have given the creature a human form!" [s1.name] grumbled, then added, baffled, "[player.name], tell me—why else would he go to such lengths to seek them out if not for that?"

Faced with [s1.name]’s question, you fell silent for a long while... Perhaps there were those who lusted after monsters in this world... But you certainly didn’t know any... Well, maybe not.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It launched into a breathless account of the night’s events: "At first, I gave her four men—well, I’d heard that’s the standard setup for some romance tales. She bedded them all in a flash, then grew bored just as fast. To keep the story-world from collapsing, I had to scramble, weaving new lovers, new encounters, new affairs... Oh, but she couldn’t care less about affairs! She just craved novelty! I was at my wit’s end, so I tried reshaping the entire world—dragging her east, into the future, even back to the primal age... She reveled in it all. I was exhausted, [player.name]. By the end, I no longer cared to know what carnality even was—I just wanted the tale over, the whole damned thing done... So I ended the experiment myself. Truth be told, I lost to her."

[s1.name] took a deep drag from the hookah under your pitying gaze. "I never want to know the meaning of carnality again. Honestly, now I just want to be a monk—the middle-aged one. Damn it all, she even slept with three monks in the dream!"

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened to Qais with you: "Getting him into bed wasn’t hard—just convince his mother, then tell him I was his betrothed, arranged by his mother. But spin that story in a tavern, and you’d be thrown out. So I tried other approaches... like starting with romance."

"I’ve heard some humans have this peculiar habit of raising a stone as if it were their own child... That’s pretty much how courting him felt. Every moment, I was agonizing over how to move the plot forward, how to kindle the so-called passion... Thanks to him, I’m now a master of overwrought love epics. But tell me—who’d slog through hundreds of thousands of words, decades of mundane entanglement, just for a mediocre bedding scene? I don’t know. If such a person exists, point them my way. I’d love to hear their thoughts."

[s1.name] paused, studying you, then smiled slowly and knowingly. "Those cult rituals might actually be a decent alternative... I’ll try that next time."

Stop toying with the earnest ones. You couldn’t help but mourn for Qais in your heart—just for a moment.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you in vivid detail—how it had woven an epic saga of grand adventure, complete with loyal followers, triumphant victories, and, of course, the ever-popular twists of love and longing...

Wait, this hardly counts as carnality...! You nearly interrupted several times, but words failed you. In the end, Adila slew the dragon, rescued the stolen beloved, broke the family curse, and rode into the sunset like every hero deserves...

"She was utterly enthralled! Look, what more could she want? Every desire, every wish—fulfilled! And then she suddenly asked: Why was there no dragon’s blood on her sword? Why were there no scars on her skin? Damn, my story unraveled over such a tiny oversight! I admit, I underestimated her obsession. I thought desire was about the end, not the means... To fix it, I scrambled, rewriting whole passages—but the more I patched, the worse it got. Soon, she slipped free of the tale entirely. A failure. A disaster." [s1.name] shook its head, though the smile playing at its lips suggested it didn’t truly mind. "Perhaps some dreams must be lived, not just given. She’s like a stone—but stones can be charming, right?"

With a bow, the Mirror plucked a final note from its lute and strode off, humming a merry tune.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It eagerly recounted the night’s events: "That lady was truly remarkable... I’ve always wondered about the nature of human marriage, so I crafted every manner of man—some she took to, others she didn’t—and now I understand completely. Marriage is a transaction where both sides seek something, yet it’s rare for the scales to balance. Once the contract is sealed, the haggling begins anew—misunderstandings, substitutions, lies, omissions, performances... Who knew merchants weren’t the greatest masters of such games? I see it all now, [player.name]. If ever you need a marriage manifesto written, do call on me."

You protested at once, desperate to explain that wasn’t how it worked—but [s1.name] was already striding away, thoroughly pleased with its newfound wisdom.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned from Zaki’s place.

"I thought children would be dull, but surprisingly, last night wasn’t half bad."

"You know what? I gave him so many scripts—well, I am a poet! I wove his fate into my world, and whether it was comedy or tragedy, he reveled in it all. That boy has his own sense of justice, and to uphold it, to defend it, he’d embrace death itself! Listen, [player.name], he wants to be a hero! Sex, love, death—mere ornaments to the heroic tale." [s1.name] shared eagerly. "Though, I didn’t get around to breaking him. After all, I only mildly despise humans. I’m not some vile villain waiting to be struck down by a hero, am I?" The Mirror laughed behind a hand, eyes gleaming with amusement.

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Action:

[s1.name] did not return for several days. When it finally appeared, it shared the tale of its endeavor—seducing Nabhani had been laughably simple. All it took was shaping itself into the guise of a young, beautiful maiden and bringing along a flask of wine.

"Then why did it take so long?" you asked.

[s1.name] hesitated before answering. "Because I wanted to hear him say 'love.' You see, in every romance, the lovers must confess it—'I love you,' yes? I thought it would come naturally. Damn, I didn’t even need him to mean it! But he refused."

The Mirror looked thoroughly vexed. "I bedded him again and again—yet no matter how lost in passion, how intimate the moment, he would not say it! Perhaps he doesn’t know how to charm a woman. Perhaps he refuses to lie. Perhaps it’s the nature of a rake to leave no tenderness behind... But none of that satisfies me! I had to know why—because I suspect this is the truth of carnality I sought!"

"Did you succeed?"

[s1.name] plucked a discordant ripple from the lute strings. "I don’t know if it’s success, but I learned this much: there is a shadow in his heart. No one may touch it without drawing blood." [s1.name] sighed. "I’ll admit, humans are more complicated than I thought. There’s still much I don’t understand."

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It looked thoroughly disheartened: "Your recommendation was a poor choice—for research or for pleasure, equally disappointing." The Mirror had a deep sigh. "I simply cannot abide being interrupted at the peak of passion by his damned dog! You understand—creative fervor and carnal desire are both precious things... Ah, well. Let him spend his life with the his mutts, then!"

At that, [s1.name]’s eyes suddenly gleamed, and clapped its hands together. "Yes! Why didn’t I think of it before?" [s1.name] began scribbling furiously, and you dared not imagine what horrors it was committing to parchment...

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you—how Junah had treated it as an honored guest to be served, yet despite many attempts, the Mirror simply could not grasp the human thrill of claiming another. In the end, the Mirror and Junah shared tea and sweets beneath the grapevines, then parted quietly.

"I think... well, I think that experiencing what one cannot understand may still shed light on its opposite. In any case, thank you for such an illuminating reference." It was rare for [s1.name] to offer thanks, and even as it faded from sight, it seemed lost in thought.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you—how it had personally tested Jalila’s whip, even traded places, yet felt none of the so-called "desire" in the act.

"For her, it’s a profession. For me, seeking the answer to desire is also a profession..." [s1.name] shrugged, idly scribbling on a scrap of parchment. "Still, afterward, we spoke at length. Desire reflects another facet of a person—when repressed, they crave release; when self-loathing, they crave dependence. Humans always need somewhere safe to stow their most wretched, ugliest parts... Yes, that’s the shape of it."

With a final stroke of the quill, the Mirror took its leave.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It did not hesitate to lavish praise upon Shama. "She understands desire—how to give it the gentlest home. So, after the first few attempts, I returned to my true form—neither man, nor woman, nor human. She was surprised, but accepted it quickly. We sat by the window, drinking tea, as she told me her stories... I’ll admit, they were tales I could never have written. I listened, I reflected—as mirrors do best. And in the end, she called me kind... Ah, she was the kind one."

[s1.name] laughed. "I thought this carnality was merely research. Now, I’m simply glad to have known her."

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Action:

Gulis never spoke of his past or origins. Whenever you asked, he offered nothing—not a word. Your curiosity burned! You nearly counted the hours until [s1.name]’s return, eager to hear of your sharpest archer, your most silent follower.

But [s1.name] disappointed you. It did not recount the night’s tale in detail, only smiled with unsettling knowingness. "Getting close to him, sharing a night of fleeting pleasure—that’s easy enough. Men are men, after all... But swaying his heart? That’s another matter. He can tend to a person with perfect courtesy, yet leave without a shred of longing. How ruthless."

[s1.name]’s grin turned chilling. "Still, a poet like me thrives on the impossible."

Not long after, the markets were flooded with wildly popular, exquisitely lurid tales. None bore the name "Gulis"... and yet...

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Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. IT spoke of the previous night with wonder: "I found the girl you mentioned. The moment we met, she asked me what story I was writing. Isn’t she delightful? So I showed her all my drafts. Then she asked, ‘What happens next?’... Oh, no one could refuse those star-bright eyes. So I wrote and wrote, and she read and read. Time became a river, looping around us, washing over me again and again. Memories, tales, and knowledge I thought I’d forgotten surged back to my quill—do you understand that feeling? In those hours, there was only one thought: Write. To write forever, to spill everything I’ve seen, known, and imagined onto the page... Only when my hand grew too weary to hold the quill, only when I woke at my desk, did I realize—that was desire, pure and absolute, and I had tasted it whole."

[s1.name] bowed. "She is a good girl. For her, I will finish my story."

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Action:

At your command, Arzuna obediently followed [s1.name] away. The next day, [s1.name] spoke of what happened last night.

"She’s accustomed to being offered to others, as if she sees herself as a ‘commodity’—even if it’s her way of shielding her heart. But what could I possibly learn from her?" The Mirror shrugged, plucked idly at the lute strings, and took its leave.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It seemed rather pleased. "I liked her honesty."

"Most people recoil at the mention of desire, as if it were something foul. And yet, weren’t we all born of it? Strange." The Mirror scoffed, then added, "This woman was different. She was even willing to teach me how to please her, to explore my body. Well... though I did lose myself in the end, reverting to a mirror and startling her. Still, I learned much that night."

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It looked weary, sinking into a chair and downing several cups of tea before finally shooting you a slow, reproachful glare. "What kind of person did you introduce me to? He refused me—even when I became the woman he loved. I don’t even know how he saw through it."

You ventured cautiously, "Then why do you look so drained?"

"We talked for a while... In the end, well, he borrowed my mirror and spent the whole night watching her sleep." [s1.name] let out a long sigh and shook its head. "I don’t understand what’s so captivating about a motionless body. Normally, I’d have left long ago... But his devotion was... intriguing. A decent harvest for my work, I suppose. That’s enough. I need to rest."

With that, the Mirror shuffled away, utterly spent.

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Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you: "I slipped into his dreams. He lay in a lush meadow, surrounded by flowers and sheep, the wind sweet, the sun warm—everything was perfect. But I’ve seen that land through lakes and raindrops, and it was never so beautiful! If not for this dream, I’d never have known memory could gild reality so."

[s1.name] mused, "Why do humans cling so fiercely to a place, love it so deeply? A mirror cannot understand. A mirror has no home to yearn for—a mirror is everywhere!"

The more it spoke, the more questions arose, yet the Mirror didn’t seem troubled. Instead, a smile played at its lips. Before leaving, the Mirror plucked at the lute strings and added, "Oh, and did you know? He sings beautifully."

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Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you:

"I used a... special method to determine Mahir’s type. Hmm. Then I became a pool of dense Aetheric essence—quite strange, really. The surface of the liquid was still a mirror, as if I’d become a tiny fragment of myself... Ha, you should’ve seen her eyes when she found me—they shone like stars. I suppose that’s what you call love at first sight. And it made me happy, too. She placed me in a clean vessel, spoke to me every day, whispering all sorts of wild, fantastical ideas... It was delightful. I adore her, truly. She stirred me, smoothed me, awakened something within, merging her thoughts with mine until—well, something new was born. Something unprecedented. The moment it came into being, I knew: this was our child... Oh, I have a child! Now I understand you humans a little better. But I must return to her. [player.name], don’t call for me unless it’s urgent. I’m rather busy these days."

With that, [s1.name] vanished. No matter how much you called into the mirror, it did not reappear.

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Result:

Action:

The next day, you sought out [s1.name], asking if the Mirror was satisfied with the previous night’s arrangements.

"She is a unprocessed jade," it replied, and nothing more. Uncharacteristically, the Mirror refused to share the details of the evening, nor what it had gained.

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Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you: "I took your form, and everything went perfectly," it said. "This time, I crafted an approachable idol—made us meet earlier, weathered trials, and then, like all love poems, confessed, kissed, made love... It was flawless as it should be. After all, even when you do nothing, he stays willingly by your side, doesn’t he? I thought I could weave him into my poetry effortlessly, complete this study. But..."

[s1.name] sighed faintly before continuing. "Then, one day—right after we’d finished, he suddenly looked at me and said, ‘This is all wonderful, but the joy is too unsettling. Please, let me wake up.’ Oh, the world I’d spun collapsed in an instant. My story had no ground to stand on. I don’t understand! Did I fail to play you well? Impossible. I am a mirror! No actor in this world could surpass me!"

[s1.name] clawed at its hair in frustration, and you, too, fell silent, unsure how to offer comfort. Yet, at the very least, the labyrinth of the human heart—while leaving [s1.name] utterly defeated—had also stoked a fiercer hunger for the challenge.

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Was it Deliberate, or an Accident?
At your words, a peculiar gleam flickered in [s1.name]’s eyes. Yet it remained silent, merely lifting a hand to part a curtain—like the rise of a stage’s veil—revealing not your bedchamber, but a towering mirror, reflecting a distant likeness of you. "Weren’t you meant to lose yourself with him?" you muttered, stepping closer to the glass.

Then the reflection’s face twisted—briefly, unnaturally—had the mirror cracked? A voice rang out, echoing like mountains in the void, uncannily your own: "Have you truly never noticed... never doubted?"

You staggered back, eyes locked on the unwavering figure in the mirror—now wearing a smile you did not share, one laced with resignation and something darker: the quiet malice of one who watches, even urges, a child to pry open a cursed box. Instinct drove you to retreat... And as the dream shattered, a derisive snickering reached your ears. You couldn’t say if it came from the mirror.

Conditions:

Result:

Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It shared what happened in the previous night with you:

"He is a fine poet, but a poor lover. Half his days are spent drowned in drink, and half his sober hours lost to madness... Of course, such men are everywhere. But the true horror? Consider this: human language is dishonest. You all polish your own reflections! And him—a man who twists and toys with words—oh, the tricks he has to leave you speechless!" A sly smile curled on the Mirror’s lips as it lifted a teacup, blowing lightly across the steam. "But no matter. I, too, am a poet."

Then the Mirror recounted how, in last night’s dream, it and the poet had played the roles of bitter lovers, trading barbs like blades—leaving behind epic verses in the fervor of courtship, the wreckage of passion, all while feeding some monstrous beast that watched from the shadows... But here, the Mirror chose not to elaborate further.

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Action:

The next day, [s1.name] returned. It did not seem pleased.

"You gave me an excellent example," it said. "She is beautiful in your human eyes, is she not? Beauty is a weapon—else you would not have bought her in the first place. I indulged her all night, let her revel without restraint, yet each time, I grew weary soon enough. I suspect she tired of me as well. All joy faded like mist, just as this dream will. Such is the nature of desire—shallow, hollow, tedious. And I, chasing meaning in such triviality, am just as dull. I think I shall abandon this study."

With that, the Mirror gave you a slight nod of thanks and simply walked away.

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Result:

Action:

[s1.name] shot you a sharp glance, then left without another word. The next day, it still refused to answer your question—"How was the carnality?"—but you couldn’t help but notice… well, [s2.name] had been avoiding you lately.

Action:

Extra

This rite has no extra outcome.