тнᴇ ʏυɢσsнı [συʀ cσммσɴ ᴅıʀᴇcтıσɴ]

The Yughoshi
S'elothotha Cystho : The Grand Cathedral of Cystho


The heart of the Yughosi was the Cathedral of Cystho, or S'elothotha Cystho as most of the moguliloth-tongued ones referred to it was more of a command structure than a spiritual construct. It was massive, possessing hundreds of rooms, alcoves and twisting corridors that labyrinthed inwards to the main structure. Like a clandestine house of worship, towering atrium, crowned choirs and criss-crossing transepts that bore stained-glass window structures with decorative stone tracery that allowed in light from the upper array to pierce the interior between branching arches of black waxy carapace like walls. Massive naves and aisles directed towards the main Altar-structure referred to as the 'Seat of Cystho' that sat beneath a massive pendentive held dome. The presbytery-floor was reserved for only the highest ranked members of the Amuin Congress and those who were invited. The Altar, or throne precipice was elevated off the floor which could be reached by winding staircases on either side of the massive solid-state volumetrics that displayed real-time territorial claims within the annexed Unyian and Ryuuesi Spirals. 

Tapestries hung from walls showing vivid symbolism of awarded conquests and the shields of the massive military arms of the Umarian Astral Raquamothla. The throne itself was placed within a circle of control monoliths that served as interface ports for Lao'Taun and his staff, the glossy black structures glowed as volumetrics rippled over their surface. Like it had grown upwards from the frame of the Cathedral-itself the throne consisted of twisted outcrops of the same glossy black material with luminescent jade and sapphire accents. Heavy chains attached to the mast-like front of the throne where Lao'Taun often held his parasitically infested puppets prior to the final days of their use.

σмɴᴇıтʏ [ʏυɢнσsнı мᴀтᴇʀɴᴀ cнᴀɴʏσsᴀ]

No god or demon shod in flesh of majesty could ever see half the sights my eyes have ‘seen’.


STATIONED: Yughoshi Materna Chanyosa
DESTINATION: Daiyu Okiya en-route to Private Military UAR Space Docks
SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: [UAR HSC or HCP Required]

Disturbed by the oscillations within the atmosphere, repulsive forces stirring within the incensed evening in translucent energy waves. Cylindrical x Phasmatodean in shape, sleek and black with opaque tinted bioalloy windows pulled up beside where Satrina stood beneath the pallid, shifting light hoovering half a meter to Satrina’s height. The anti-gravity lifters positioned beneath the body, steadily lowering the Silhouette XI-D towards the ground.  Suspension sustained, position above-ground without making contact with the ground, the craft hung poignant, as if suspended by the thinnest of threads, or upon the palm of divinity’s hand.  Noticing that the driver wore a uniform accustomed to the UAR, and who returned her look with a raised brow and a blank expression that deemed an, 'ask nothing’ approach. Not even daring to grace the form of the ‘Imperial Concubine’ with his admiring eyes-- opting to instead to focus forwards, gloved hands firmly  gripping the wheel, whistling to himself as the left-hand side door rose with a subdued ‘hiss’.

Decompression sound and another uniformed officer appeared with a flabbergasted illustration clearly painted on the canvas of his clean shaven face that was instantly met with Satrina’s reflectionless stare that appeared to devour all light and life. "Ah... "  faltering for a moment being unsure how or what to refer to her as. Stuttering for a second then finding articulate means to communicate while he was met with the rise of a slender ebony eyebrow and the sweeping motion of her hand suggesting silence was the better selected option. Sinisterly smirking, not applying the usual means to permit understanding of her native dialect, further from the immusical humanoid clatter and granting him and the driver the true sounds of the Insectoid/Arachnidan. High-pitched, shattering to the ear-drums akin to the tiny splinters of glass shards perforating inner devices to the scarlet ruptures of haemorrhage.  Head tilting, to cause midnight tresses to tumble, a cold and callous frost filtering over Satrina’s countenance. Though lips did not move to offer a soothing and kind word, multiple sensory modes with the immunity to all ultrasound deterrents--  rose at first like the cruel desert winds, gradually escalating in multiple tones from the melodious to the cacophonous.