WEEK SIX: EXECUTION

[hellscapes]

Hello, deadlings.

We gather here today for the most somber occasion. 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. All of them appear to have left behind their work uniforms and are clustered together in a dark corner, watching the stage with various ranges of interest.

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:
FILBO
10AM
Enjoy the show

No matter where you look, you will find that Filbo 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

[ontrend]

[oh. hm. he hates this.

kuranosuke is here, white-knuckling the strongest alcoholic beverage he could get his hands on as he watches this fight start.]

[ontrend]

[gets up, goes to the bar, and fetches zel a nice strong drink tbh]

...here.

[preordain]

[ hmm

he reads the message and then nods. ]

[cavaliered]

[no]

[ontrend]

[


offers hunter a sip of his very strong alcoholic beverage tbh.]

[cavaliered]

[she watches the execution too - if he's still got her sunglasses, she's going to take them back and put them on, thank u.]

[psynchronise]

[ you’re grounded.


…


bixing come ground your girl with more authority. ]

[hardrocklife]

[he could, but the attacking starts immediately, and he grits his teeth as he looks on in alarm at our poor filbo.


and kuranosuke just got him a drink anyway, which is great because he's gonna need it.]

[voidshift]

Filbo-

[He's not anticipating that-- he shifts a half-step back as his shadow deforms and stretches, reaching up above them both, shaping itself into a weapon. The stage beneath his feet shakes, leaves him struggling for a few moments to find his balance on his still-healing leg as he peers through the dust.

Is he- it can't be that simple. They can't be let off with just one good hit from his own shadow, can they?

Filbo's shadow envelops him, and behind him, Rynlan's shadow stretches out as if in answer. It takes no particular form, an amorphous shape pulling itself up off the floor as the thread that still ties it to Rynlan distorts and wavers, before in one sudden motion that shape inverts itself in midair and yawns open.

It's a rift, of some sort. Pitch-dark, with tendrils of shadow extending from it, stretching, reaching, and as they do... whispers begin to emanate from it. Indistinct, at first. A cacophony of overlapping murmurs, quiet for now.

Rynlan takes a step forward, shadows reaching for his ankles, winding their way up his legs.]

...you won't end it that easily.

[A more distinct whisper forms, in the midst of the voices. 'There is no escape,' it murmurs. 'There is no resistance. I ongg za ywaq qvsakf.'

One ear flicks, swivels toward the sound as he exhales a slightly shaky breath.]

[hardrocklife]

[he looks up and gives an appreciative nod.]

[ontrend]

[nods back. he's got you, drinking buddy.]

[greatvalue]

[He looks like he's about to turn him down




and then Filbo's shadows attacks and envelops him in a way that gives him w0 war flashbacks, so never mind. What's Kuranosuke having? He's taking the sip.]

[engineers]

[ that's fair she may have them. they're in his hair so he ducks his head to let her take them. ]

[preordain]

[ it's fine he's immune ]

Probably Body Horror Content Warning From Here On

[failbo]

[Sticks and stones, words can't hurt me, etcetera, etcetera. Sure isn't true here -- Filbo's shadow seems to writhe when Rynlan's shadow murmurs. It writhes, what's covering Filbo grips him tighter, while the rest rises above him as if it's a snake about to strike. Filbo's body is contorting, the shadow covering his limbs beginning to swell and take strange appearances.

That...definitely looks like his unconscious self is taking the form of what seems to be strawberries. Carrots. Coalesced into the shape of his limbs. A strange thing to see, all things considered, to those who are unaware of what it's related to.

The rest of the shadow seems to have taken its decision: attack. Try to get rid of who is murmuring that. Heavy pieces of floorboard are tore from the stage and thrown at Rynlan, the shadow extending like mold all over the floor, before part of it braids itself to attempt to hit Rynlan, smack him away, shut his shadow up]

[ontrend]

[it's this]

[tearduct]

[Puts a hand on the top of his head briefly.]

[voidshift]

Is that... Filbo? Filbo, damn it, get up-

[What is that. His body's-- food?

There's not much time to linger on that thought. The shadow moves, rips up the floorboard to throw at him, and in the absence of the ability to really dodge Rynlan flings himself to the ground-- which leaves him with very few options when the shadow itself takes the next swing. That braided section lashes out and strikes him, sends him rolling a short distance back across the stage with a stifled little grunt of pain at the contact, and when he starts to pull himself to his feet, glances down-

His yes widen at the sight. Ryn's own shadow is covering him, weaving its way up his body as the voices from the rift whisper: 'You are ours. Do you not feel it? Did you not? One limb among many, lashing in the dark.']

No-

[The shadow, undeterred, consumes him. Covers his form and seems to warp it, tendrils of shadow-- more solidly forming into tentacles, now-- winding out from his body, beginning to wrap around it before he forces them away. The shadow is his power, his, it can't--

'Iilth ma paf'qi'ag sk'halahs. No light. No escape.']

[failbo]

[When Filbo's shadow is hit, voices sound. His own voice. It doesn't seem to come from anywhere specific. There's a vague sound of bubbling, reminiscent what everyone may have heard while being in the docks.

'Why am I in hell?
...it's because I failed, right? I couldn't do anything right for an entire year.
If I had been decisive.
If I had been clever.
If I had been skillful.
If I had noticed earlier.
If I had really been what anyone needed.
Then it would all have been alright.
But it's fine. No point getting stuck in the past, right?
Just...move on. I'm in hell and that's fine, I can handle this.
Everyone here is pretty weirded out about me, but it's nothing I can't deal with.
I'm fine.
Everything is fine.'

Looks like it's a memory from the early days in hell. Filbo's voice is gone, and so are the sounds, when the shadow tries to lash at Rynlan again--]

I--I got it!

[Filbo is awake. He grabs onto his own shadow, trying to pull it back, only to get yanked forward. He gives Rynlan a panicked look when he sees tentacles wrapping around Rynlan. Looks like they both have their own body horror things to deal with today!]

Are you alright?! Got my paws full but, uh--but I'm here, I could--

[No, no he couldn't, his shadow is out of control, he barely can hold himself amidst the debris of the stage, and he trying to reach towards Rynlan in a futile attempt to help him, giving priority to Rynlan over his own, but it only almost made Rynlan get smacked by Filbo's shadow, he hurrying to try to stop it. He's barely strong enough to hold back. Plan B:]

It's not gonna end unless you kill me! Come on!

[The mutated limbs pulse, compressing and pulling, strange, wide eyes opening all over them foodstuff, while tendrils as fine as fur wrap into his joints, as if the shadow was trying to yank and tear the limbs Filbo's body but he tries his best to ignore that, hoping Rynlan can handle it all before things get real bad. By now it's pretty clear things are either going to end with Rynlan ending it quicker...or real messy when Filbo's own shadow tears him apart piece by piece, literally]

[greatvalue]

[OUR FILBO... The food body horror sure is happening, but he does not seem surprised by it.]

Come on, man... He needs to wake up.

[greatvalue]

[Neat. He gags a little but keeps it down like a champ.]

[ontrend]

[hunter is so valid.]

[voidshift]

Worry about yourself!

[-which he intends to sound more confident than it does, but there's an edge to it he can't fully stifle. He's missed the touch of the shadow, but there's always that underlying fear of what goes along with it-- those who would use its power know well enough what lives within the void, after all. He knows better than most.

Being wrapped in it like this feels like it did before he died. Like digging too deep, like touching something impossible, like seeing too many possibilities all at once and being unable to contain it. Like whispering voices replacing his own thoughts, feeling himself unravel before-- nothing, 'nothing, nothing'.

It mimics his own voice, adds its echo to the cacophony, and pressing his hands to his ears does nothing. It's so loud this close up, all around him, but he can at least still hear Filbo's voice over it, hear him asking to end this.

It goes both ways, he thinks. If he belongs to the void, this still belongs to him in turn.

One hand shoots out, the visible shape of it distorting and lashing out across the stage, the clubbed end of a tentacle taking aim at Filbo's head.]

[onlythans]

[Oh, boy, it's Blue Man Execution™, huh. We're not going to punish Thancred for my being on vacation so he's definitely always been here, not looking happy about this from the start and really, really not enjoying it once Rynlan hits the stage and the void opens up.

Lucky he's got his arms folded across his chest as he holds up the wall near Bixing; it's hard to tell that his hands are curled into tight fists, and harder still to guess at the state of his palms where his nails might be digging in.]

[failbo]

I can't--

[He can't worry about myself because he worries for others before that. Rynlan's voice echoed in the stage, Filbo can see Rynlan's distress. While he tries to pull, he shouts at Rynlan:]

Don't listen to it! Focus, you can--you can do it!

[From his forearms and one of his shins, parts separate from the limbs, falling to the floor and scooting away in the vague shape of some kind of insects. Small strawberries, with googly eyes, are briefly seen before they merge again with his shadow. There's no blood from where they fell -- Bugsnax are great for restoring tissue and healing, after all! -- but it's a clear indication of what will happen unless he's killed.

Mercifully, Rynlan slams a tentacle at Filbo's head. The hit is precise, there's a strong blunt sound when it happens, and Filbo cries out when he's hit. That hurt, that really hurt--but he looks up at Rynlan, dazed, but...still alive]

Don't listen to your shadow and--keep going! You're not gonna let that all hold you back, right?!

[The moment Rynlan hit Filbo, his limbs stopped degrading into shadowy food insects. They did continue extending, the tendrils beginning to dig into the shoulders and thighs, but it seems Rynlan attacking stops the infection's worst effect of him losing parts of his body.

The larger part attacking Rynlan slips from what's left of Filbo's paws, he too dazed to hold on, the shadow swinging at Rynlan to try to hit him in turn]