WEEK THREE: EXECUTION

[hellscapes]

Hello, deadlings.

Back at it again? Goodness. Yesterday must have been awful for some of you. Lucky you, the weekend "fun" isn't over just yet.

On Sunday morning, you'll soon hear a sound coming from the dock. There's a large ferry waiting for you, and even if you resist you'll eventually find yourself compelled to climb aboard and set off on a short voyage. The islands around you look fairly blurry, but you don't go very far before you stop at a slab of land with two large buildings stationed. You won't be able to look at the one on the right now, the one you've come to know as the trial bar. Instead, your feet navigate you to the building on the left as the door creaks open. On your way in, you notice some posters hung beside the door, advertising today's event.

Inside is a bar. It's pretty swanky in comparison to the others you've seen, tables and chairs arranged comfortably for everyone to have a seat and spread out however they'd like. The bar is fully stocked with all kinds of alcohol along with an arrangement of bar food for anyone who's feeling a bit peckish. At the head of the room, there appears to be a stage washed in red lights with a wide area for performances.

At a table in the corner all six demons are gathered around.

-Bloody Mary and Midori are seated together, staring intensely at the stage.
-Blue Hawaiian and Malibu Sunset are draped over each other, phones in hand and slightly covered by Cosmopolitan.
-Rosé is seated nearby, looking impatient.

As you find your seats and get yourself something to drink, darkness begins to fill the bar and a banner unfurls over the stage.

TODAY'S PERFORMER:
URIEL
10AM
Enjoy the show

No matter where you look, you will find that Uriel is not amongst you. But there isn't time to look further before the lights dim and the curtains draw.

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Comments

[reignite]

Work with what you have!

[ of course, what control do they really have in the end? but she wants him to fight back. even as her shadow starts to talk, the sound of a man who speaks with a pained voice.

It was a really great story. Isn’t that right? then, the shadow starts to bleed upwards, seeming to write words in the air.

[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ doesn’t wish for your death.]
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ doesn’t wish for your death!]

her steps stagger at the voice, eyes wide as she turns her head to face her own shadow as a sword forms and swings at the same time. it's a distraction enough that she tries to avoid the sword, only feeling the scythe connect right across her back with a deep slash. with her hands moving to stop the sword with her hands that cut into her palms deep. ]

Son of a f■■ b■■-!

[ and yet, there is no sight of bright red that starts to seep and ooze from her now injuries, an ink-like substance dripping with slight shades of red. like a book bleeding its own words from its pages. ]

..So that's how it's going to be.

[ with a push of her wing, she gives herself som distance. and fortunately, her shadow starts to waver, struggling to keep form as horns begin to lose its shape and the humanoid becomes smaller in size. she focuses back on Chandra, looking at the scythe. ah, that's cheating? ah well. ]

At least now you do.

[astika]

[chandra doesn't flinch when the scythe slashes across her—well, he's never been the kind of person to do something if he thought he might regret it, after. still, it's hard not to feel a streak of a visceral something, given that he's never been fond of turning against his fellow gods even back home, unlike some others whose hands he's died at a few times. fuck indra! fuck agni! fuck surya!

in that regard, uriel's temper is almost like theirs. uncomfortably nostalgic.]

Yes, so you'd better give it your all, Uriel. You didn't want a shameful showing, right?

[voices emerge again, but this time, not only is his own among them, but it starts with a familiar one: zagreus's.

about action and lady uriel. you're going to spend some time with her, is that right?

why would i?

because she enjoys your company? like... you enjoy ours?

you're rather arrogant, aren't you.

gritting his teeth, chandra ignores it and lunges forward. the void that is his shadow follows, almost wrapping itself around him. some of the scenery within it begins to disappear, and with that, uriel might see the look in chandra's eyes change—settling into something emptier, colder.

... all things considered, uriel's own shadow could just end up killing her. but chandra will at least grant her a less disgraceful death, scythe ready to swing again.

shadows swirl upwards, as though to speak into his ear through another voice, this one unfamiliar to most except for anyone who might've seen a memory with a specific god:

did spending time with deities of another world help ease your mourning? that's pretty pathetic, chandra.

you know very well that gods aren't meant to carry that kind of weight.]

[reignite]

Of course I'm going to give it my f■ all.

[ the words are said with gritted teeth, returning to her battle stance despite the flare of pain in her back. on her hands. words spilling from her wounds, but nothing that can be deciphered.

her shadow changes, it begins to shift and lounge as if it's floating. a boyish voice, unfamiliar. [ An angel is fond of fallen humans. ]

it changes again, an offensive stature, ready to fight, [ Uriel, you must’ve gone crazy after quitting demon hunting. ]

and once more, wings curling around the shadow's form a little with a click of a tongue, a woman's voice reprimanding, lecturing, [ Are you a human? ]

a mass of shadows forms beside Uriel as she concentrates, a sword coming to collide directly with Chandra as he lunges forward, holding a defensive measure while she begins to spit more curses at the voices. ]

All this f■■ nonsense and s■ being sprouted, I don't care! It won't change anything!

[ her own gaze is alight with fire, a fury that doesn't extinguish with its evergrowing wrath. she's sick of this shit, this bullshit torment made on them, even though ultimately in the end this is something they had both wished for. the outcome won't change, so a bit more-- she pushes back. rapid arches made from her sword, the prowess of an archangel who has killed hundreds, hundreds of demons.

the winged shadow grows quiet, eerily silent. though the ends begin to ripple again like flames.

then, quietly, chandra's voice sounds from the shadow. Are you afraid of being denied your second chance?

more words escape her injuries, muddled stories beginning to drip onto the floor beneath them. ]

[astika]

[when uriel's sword collides with chandra's scythe, his weapon shifts into a similar blade—better this way, now that they're at close range.

still, more and more begins to vanish from the void of his shadow, and colder still his gaze grows. uriel might feel some of it himself, the air emanating from his shadow—one of hollowness, empty of personal desires. all that's left to focus on the bigger picture. the smaller things don't matter. (humans, connections, these worthless conflicts—)

a mentality that, perhaps, uriel can't bring herself to agree with. a mentality that chandra has always tried to live by, but also not.

this time, a voice familiar to everyone rings out, because it's that of one akira fudo: there isn't anything wrong with feeling when other people are hurting.

and chandra mutters,]

... There is, if you're a god.

[being soft isn't permitted. not now, either, when he has a duty to carry out.

as he tries to defend against uriel's attacks, however, his weapon abruptly vanishes, leaving behind nothing but a swirl of useless darkness. he's given only a moment to react, jumping back in alarm. still, uriel's sword slashes across his chest, and dimly he thinks that ah, well. he had to redo those bandages anyway.]

Shit.

[more pressing is that he now lacks a weapon, as he considers the odds of him being able to rush at uriel and just break her neck. no, they're probably not good. a second later, though, he sees something out of the corner of his eye—forming amidst the storm of shadows—and darts away from uriel. goodbye!]

[reignite]

[ the cold look in his gaze, with her own fiery intense one is a clash, the heat emanating from her shadow. and it only seems to grow more and more, as if to burn out and increase the temperature all around them. as though to engulf the whole location in heat that will scorch everything from sight. as the slash connects, her breath seems heavy, sweat beginning to gather on her brow. the fight has certainly been intense, but not long enough- and yet, the air around them begins to get hotter. Uriel's shadow seems to reflect her exactly but... no, it's different. additional wings seem to show on the shadow, a fiery blade in its hand as the shadows flicker and burn.

she's angry at his words. that's not true, even as a God--

kuranosuke's voice echoes, Don't let anyone tell you it's foolish, not even yourself.

None of us want to leave you there. gideon's voice comes after.

Uriel's step start faltering again, staggering and it allows Chandra the distance he needs. a step, more stories begin to fall from her injuries, her back covered in that ink-like blood.

then lu bixing sounds out, steady, People who are ready to pass their life away, even if they've done it before, don't always realize how much they're hurting the people that care about them in the process.

Suddenly, her wings flare up, a wince but she's swinging at the shadows briefly, and maybe she's had enough. because more than it is tormenting her, it is tormenting others, and gingerly, a warm zagreus's voice sounds beside her ear, Sometimes, unexpected events transpire. Detours happen. There are things beyond your control... But I'm sure that we can find a way out here and you can continue on your journey.

yet, her shadow wraps itself around her arms, holding her stuck in place, Uriel coming to face herself as it locks herself in.

then Uriel's voice sounds firm, strong, so full of burning wrath, but it is not her speaking, but the shadow, [[I shall avenge my world-line in this place.]] ]

Huh-?

[ again, her voice echoes, fury burning at her skin as she tries to remove her arms from the shadow's lock.

[[Just like how you stole away all that’s precious to me, I shall do the same to you.]]

her gaze turns, rapidly looking for Chandra, only manging to rip one arm out of the hold, but the shadow grabs at a wing and an echoing crack emits. ]

F■■, Chandra-- just, do it already-!

[astika]

[feeling the heat of uriel's shadow, chandra dashes over to the object he saw: a bow, though formed of shadows here. it notably doesn't have a bowstring, but that apparently doesn't stop chandra.

and again, his own voice calls out to him (because he's really always been his own worst enemy), rising in a clamour—

there's a penalty for using another god's item. you know that.

your only responsibility was to fight. you don't need to do everything to win. you don't owe her that.

she'll fall on her own, in the end. why deny yourself the chance of oblivion, even for a moment?

what is this archangel to you, that you would break the rules for her?

the bow has no string, but with the powers of the shadow, chandra pours his own energy into it. a string of light forms, though with his right arm still largely busted, chandra's left to pull it back with his teeth; in the process, another streak of light appears where one would expect an arrow.

this might be overkill, he thinks, but it's not his fault vayu poured so damn much of his power into his item. and in this situation? who knows. he might need all the power that these shadows, out to kill them both, will grant.

as he continues to pull, gathering tension for the bow, pain flickers across his face. rot spreads across his skin, flourishing from the top of his collar and up his neck. it extends across his fingers holding the bow as well, but he ignores it, his grip tightening. if this is the only punishment for touching the bow, it's an easy one to pay. (in the end, he has no room to criticize uriel for defying her laws so often, does he?)

with that in mind, he releases. the streak of light flies... right past uriel! it does nothing as it fades into nothingness. can you believe chandra fuckin missed in this moment.












oh, and then a beat later, a giant swirl of wind, infused with darkness, strikes.]

[reignite]

[ one wing hangs from her back, useless after the previous break. but her shadow keeps the one hold it has on her, that fiery shadow of a sword in its other hand aimed at her. this is not how she wants it to go. not how it should end.

her voice sounds from the shadow, clear, furious, envious, full of that burning wrath still.

[[ What kind of a world-line is this…? ]]

[[ Why must I be the only one to lose all I care about? ]]

[[ How does a Story like this exist? ]]

[[ In the end, none of them matter. He too will become dust. They will be wiped from existence. ]]

her hand meets with the sword again, cutting itself deeper as the shadow tries to overpower her, a fleeting struggle as she yanks her hand from the grip with another audible snap.

just as she does, a bright light aims right at her and



...shoots past? Uriel, even the shadow itself, seems to both stand there in some stupor. ]

...Seriously?!

[ how the fuck do you miss!!!!

ah, but suddenly there's a swirl of wind, but a rolling wave of fire infused with the shadows immediately clashes into it and the whole stage itself becomes engulfed in a wave of black. it's a bit difficult to discern what's happening but, for a moment Uriel is standing there, one arm and wing hanging up she takes a step. pushing through it despite her state, despite her stories pooling into a puddle beneath her now.

another step, and then just for a moment, she seems gone before-- ]

[astika]

[chandra strides forward, ignoring his rotting skin. his shadow is nothing but a blank void now, almost indistinguishable from the wave of black. in it is nothing, a coldness that threatens to swallow up all of him. it's a familiar feeling. this is what it means to achieve enlightenment; to be devoid of all worldly desires. even the wish to protect counts among those, after all. the wish to do anything at all in a world that may not even matter—

but just as he did all of those years ago, dragging himself back down so that he could once again care about the smaller things, chandra pulls himself across the stage, and away from the hollowness. he ignores uriel's shadow, not from a lack of caring but of necessity. the words sting, if he pays them any heed.

there is more emotion in his gaze now, but something about it remains frigid, determined. the bow in his hand shifts, returning to a mass of shadows before it reforms into a blade.

to live without fear of doing irreparable harm, to live without concern for the costs of one's choices and actions. harrow's voice calls out. siz isn't even here but it's fine. i do think there is a sort of bravery in that.

some struggle with their path. chandra had already made his decisions, at the dawn of the world, even as he looked at the promise of eternity.

and his own voice, hissing like poison. just as you told indra—your choices are your own, so don't even think about blaming anything else for them. just as indra told you—don't regret choosing not to discard your empathy, all those unnecessary feelings, as he did.

which is worse: a god who lacks a heart or a god who ignores his?]

Shut up. [he finally reaches uriel, stopping before her. he stares at her for a moment, sighing.] Well, this is what we both wanted, but you really asked for a lot here. This was tiring.

[but she chose wisely, because there was never any cause for concern.

he couldn't commit to being a kind and compassionate god, and neither could he commit to be an unfeeling one. a mentality so fragile that it's nothing but a thin line, looking as though it couldn't hold anything up; and yet, one forged through billions of years of duty, conflict, and decisions, and that which will never snap.

what uriel asked of him was ruthlessness. that is his gift to her, here and now.]

... Goodbye, Uriel. I'll miss our nightly hangouts, truthfully.

[his grip tightens.]

Give my regards to Zagreus.

[and with that, he plunges the sword into her chest.]

[reignite]

[ a wave of exhaustion rolls over her form, the collision of God and shadow both- she is more of a wounded beast than the proud and elegant archangel she held herself at the start. word by word fall into the ground, pieces telling a story of their own... they... protect... if she could... would have liked.. the words get muddled as they pool together, the stories approaching their end.

in a story like this, would these Fables cry at this moment? tell of the pain they feel of the loss, to become lost, proudly exclaim the fierceness that was fought and not once having had held back.

her gaze stays forward, watching him approach with blade in hand. a fire that continues to burn in her gaze, but it is light, warm as he stops and it's his words she hears. not something of the shadows, the whispered and tormenting thoughts echoing from anxiety and the depths of hearts. ]

Ahaha, I promised to put up a fight, didn't I? You said you wouldn't want it any other way.

[ a quiet echo sounds, Archangels are really ruthless, aren't they?

but she does not respond, meeting his gaze even at the admittance and she laughs, tired and light. that burning fire slowly dying. her shadow wavers, stepping back, but Uriel does not move the moment that sword plunges in, a hot searing pain that fills her when it does. but not from the blade itself, no.

her heart aches miserably. ]

I'm sorry, Chandra. [ ... ] Thank you for everything.

[ she staggers, breath struggling as more ink-like blood spills from her mouth and her body starts to sink. ]

[hellscapes]

[ as the final blow is delivered, everything seems to fall silent. the shadows wait, poised and looming on stage, and soon all around is the sound of applause. despite the fact that no one is visibly clapping, the sound echoes off the walls of the bar as the shadows take a bow.

the applause tapers off and the shadows stand upright, fluid movements enhanced under the lights. uriel's shadow scoops up her body, and without another word steps back into the darkness to take her away.

chandra's shadow, meanwhile, begins to shrink little by little, returning to its original size and settling behind him once more. it looks like it's back to normal…but who's to say?

the lights are raised in the bar and the door swings open. the table of demons seem to be watching before they all begin to move once more. all six of them seem to gather themselves, taking their leave without another word. this is your time now.

as last week, the last ferry of the day leaves at 5pm. everyone is free to linger around the island for the rest of the afternoon if they'd like. there's alcohol and food available all day, and while the trial bar isn't open the island has space for anyone who wants to find a quiet place to relax a little. you've all lived to see another day…enjoy it, for now. ]