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hellscapes) wrote in
superhell2023-03-05 08:13 am
Entry tags:
WEEK THREE: EXECUTION

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.
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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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.]
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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-- ]
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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.]
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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. ]
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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. ]