Wouldn't you like to use more than words?

[letsplayamod]

The last thing you recall is likely your own death. Whether it was fast or slow, it's over now. And you're... where are you?

One moment, you were among the living. The next - you may be one of the unfortunate ones who actually died. In which case, you've found yourself flowing in the lazy rivers of the river Styx, unfathomably deep underground. Just for a moment, mind you. It's not long before your consciousness is yanked from the waters by some scary monsters, shoved into a healed body, and pushed through a portal.

Or, maybe you were caught red-handed and sentenced to your doom. But, instead of a proper death, you were whisked down into the Veins of Tartarus. And there's really only one place that could lead to... Or is it?


You've been tossed down here by the will of the Titan, but what you find is A helping hand swooping you up - possibly literally, and potentially out of the grasp of the Titan himself.

Not a moment after, you're whisked through another rift, this one a shimmering gold. Into a realm of slightly more stable platforms and a lot more shit to look through. The area is practically littered with the ill-gotten goods of a thieving God (who is happy to note via pop-up illusion that you are touching his stuff). Here, however, you are safe; assured that Typhon cannot find or hurt you here.

For the moment, you can breathe before the next part comes.

Comments

Week 6

[letsplayamod]

[Welcome Omega and Ferdinand Von Ageir.]

1/2

[letsplayamod]

[Down, down, Omega falls, ensnared in the hands of the Titan of monsters. He's still showing some heavy wounds from the onslaught Omega lead upon him, but that only seems to have made the mania in his many eyes worse.]

Graah! You have been pitiful little thorns under foot for far too long! I do not care what must be done at this point; the world is mine! I will find those mortals that fled from my ravenous hunger, and consume them to regain all of my strength!

But first...

[He raises Omega up, almost tenderly, to the height of Typhon's massive jaws.]

Take heart, little automaton. You shall be the first on my road to a brand new world-- GAAAH!!

[But it's not to be. Just as Typhon seemed to be squaring up to take a bite, a bolt of pure energy strikes the side of his face. Reeling back, temporarily blinded, his grip starts to loosen. Providing ample opportunity...]

A day or so after arrival, invest(?)

[markofnobility]

[Ferdinand has had some time to cool off and put himself into some form of sanity. it's a tenuous thing though, he knows. He also has an idea of how to steady himself a little. At some point he wanders a little away from the group to do a once over of his physical condition. His body is healed and the blood and other mess of death vanished, but he is not unscathed. He spends some time prying himself out of first his ruined riding jacket, and then his even more ruined and bent armor. Moving around in the chest piece fucking hurts. He tosses it aside, and then sets to work with his gauntlets and greaves. They are less damaged- he could polish them up if he wanted and use them. But right now they feel foul to him. The once shiny steel corroded with sins long before he came here. The little wyvern wings on the greaves seem to mock him. Next comes his shirt. There are giant holes in it, which he eyes... he's not sure how patch-able they might still be, or if it's even worth trying now.

Stripped to the waist (thank the Saints Omega had not gone for his legs- his breeches and boots are mostly fine.) he goes over his flesh. New scars dot him- ones mostly healed even before he died. And the new one over his heart and out his back. Ha. They go well with the Sword of the Creator's nasty work on his side. He huffs. More rugged, right?

Once he's done going over his status, the armor is... honestly just tossed off the side of the platform. Bye bye. That done he goes exploring their surroundings, eventually stumbling on the Assal with a bitter laugh. He considers tossing it too... but he wants to be armed if Typhon comes back. His ancestor's shackles in weapon form can be retired once this is settled, he thinks.

The weapon slung over his shoulder he sets to wandering, peering at all the Stuff]

investigation!

[necromants]

[Though we've made it somewhere else and aren't immediately in danger thanks to Typhon anymore, it seems the recent events have riled Ivilezlei (Zvei?) in a way he hasn't been this entire time, not even as Zvei. While last week he was subdued and distant, lost in his own head, this week he's antsy and on-edge, trying to busy himself with looking through the various gathered spoils here and ignoring the warnings. While he's here, he may as well see if there's anything useful or particularly interesting; all things magical will hold his interest better than physical weapons, but arming ourselves might be a good idea, just in case.

He still keeps his distance from the others, of course. Partially out of respect for their space, partially out of a selfish desire to be left the hell alone, but this does not seem to be good for getting him to actually sit. Now that he no longer has any need to sleep, he simply doesn't.

So all in all he's having a real normal one and you're welcome to find him somewhere on the fringes of the group at any point during the week if you want to deal with him for whatever reason! He is also notably not heading to the tea party this time around, as he's more interested in going through all these stolen things.]

a day or so after arrival; witch's tea party

[tripartites]

[ after a brief time to recuperate and adjust to their new environment, and some help from aglaea to find the needed materials and set the space up, a large patched-together tent stands in a tucked-away section of the platform, measuring about 8 meters in both directions. upon entry...

well, should you accept what you're seeing, what could it be but magic? golden butterflies flit hither and yon near the top of the canopy, as the amenities of the previous parlor room seem to have been reproduced here.

welcome, once more, to the witch's tea party. the same rules apply. the moment the work is done, the invitations appear in the same way as before to announce the event's continuation, with butterflies leading the way to the tent.

the hostess seems a bit more haggard and wary than before, following recent ordeals, but the sanctuary remains the same. why not enjoy yourselves? ]

[raiseyoulikea]

[Your new "host" of a sort, Fenyx, is taken to her role with gusto. Like all things she seems to take to. This is a woman of energy and boundless optimism... it's honestly a little glaring how bright she can be when you remember she's apparently allies with other gods?

She's been doing a bit of cleaning up around this nexus of junk. Phospho, her phoenix, is never too far behind, often swirling overhead. She's always happy to strike up a conversation, even if she can be absentmindedly checking with something in her pocket: a small baggie of indeterminate importance.

Later... well, later is complicated. At some point, Fenyx has managed to transport a large cauldron to the center of a cleared-out zone. Water sloshes dangerously at the sides, but she manages to keep it steady.]

Yesss. This should be a world of help. [she raises her voice, to nobody in particular,] Heeey! Does anyone want to see what's going on topside?

[markofnobility]

[ Ferdinand quite likes Fenyx. Maybe not surprising- corporate wants you to find the difference between these two pictures etcetc. So he's been taking time out to chat with her when he's not, you know, laying on the ground from goth wife deprivation.

So he notices the cauldron right away]

Topside?

later after the investigation

[markofnobility]

Fenyx, may I speak to you?

Trial 6 Watch Party

[letsplayamod]

[This, in the Caldron of Delphi? This is fine.]

[necromants]

[Ivilezlei has been watching the cauldron since Fenyx did her thing, and he's still staring at it now. But at Vanity's words he does roll his mismatched eyes; rare for him since so little annoys him in the first place.]

Off to a fantastic start.

[At least the others are actually focused on finding out what happened.]

[rockymountaindie]

[ all crowded around like we're in the goddamn computer room or smth- ]

What's he mean by that? Seein'...stuff that wasn't there- was that asshole makin' them hallucinate?

[rockymountaindie]

[ oh wait this is a completely different tangent, while they're like, chatting and trying to figure things out- ]


Wait a second.

Where's Lebkuchen?

[tripartites]

[ she's quiet at first as she watches, though aoi's absence still strikes like a punch to the gut. more than that, though...

after ranma presents her evidence, sayo's grip on the edge of the cauldron tightens. ]

... Cerejeira, I had better be wrong about this.

[threeapplestall]

[ scooch. scooch. scoooch-

An inconspicuous glass shard wobbles toward the cauldron. Closer... closer...]

Wait, nononononono-

[A little too close. Mortis (and Mutsumi, presumably), who has been missing for several weeks at this point, pops out.]

...................Ehehehe...

Surprise?

[markofnobility]

[Ferdinand is looking quite guilty at this]

[tripartites]

[ well. she winces, taking a breath. ]

[rockymountaindie]

...Wow. I didn't know she had it in her.

[ IS HE PROUD? DESPITE EVERYTHING? MAYBE. ]

[necromants]

[Considering he's been paying extremely close attention to a certain someone this entire trial... Well. This one isn't exactly a surprise to Ivilezlei. Still his expression is mostly hidden by a hand as he's still watching all of this very intently. His labcoat is uh. Doing something?? Yeesh. Looks like the tentacles are thrashing beneath it but not quite freeing themselves so he's probably having a real normal one, don't worry about it.

Anyway, looks like we found our killer...!]

[raiseyoulikea]

[Fenyx has alternated between setting up her own assortment of gear, readying it for what comes next, and nervously pacing around the caldron. Catching glimpses of everything between everyone else's observations.

Then this starts and she's caught off-guard.]

Who... is that...?

[tailoredfate]

[And then, that happened.

Aglaea's mostly been watching the events unfold, the trial and the resulting battle, with a shadow across her ever-neutral expression. But when Lebkuchen appears...]

... Thank the gods.

[She lets out a breath, unusually shaky for someone as composed as she always is. Her shoulders sag slightly, and there's just the faintest, faintest hitch in her voice.

... She still doesn't look entirely pleased, seeing those red shoes, but. The relief is obvious, at least.]

[markofnobility]

[While he pulled himself away from the cauldron to talk to Fenyx, he comes back to watch the fight, cheering when Leb returned like the others.

And staring at Velvet using her wires with a bright blush]

[necromants]

[Zvei has gone silent at some point during all of this. He's also gone remarkably still. The wounds in his hands still bleed and he still makes no effort to heal them, despite Fenyx's offered potion.

If there was ever a chance of him choosing a better path, it has long since been crushed. Ivilezlei has done nothing but bring him pain and suffering, and he casts that man's hopes and dreams aside. What matters now isn't the past, it's the future. And in a very short amount of time, he'll be reunited with Seymour. It won't be nearly enough, but anything would be better than what Seymour's just been through.

Riful, Astarion, Manulov, Cerejeira, Ranma, Velvet, Vanity, Luna...

Lebkuchen.

They had no choice but to fight for their lives. And if that had been all it was, maybe his fury would be aimed solidly at Typhon, for putting Seymour in such a position to begin with. Every choice he had made, even the one to play into Typhon's hands was his own - but did Seymour ever have that luxury? Has Seymour ever had that luxury? It's impossible to tell now.

But them? The other survivors? They made their choice as well, and it is not one he can simply forget. He doesn't have the power to make them pay, make them suffer just as much as Seymour has. There's nothing he can do.

Zvei will remember this. If losing Syzi was Ivilezlei's moment to choose a different path, then this is Zvei's - and he is fully embracing everything that made him so hated in the first place.

He'll leave with Fenyx when she's ready; he has no interest in watching any of the others celebrate.]

Week 7

[letsplayamod]

[Welcome Quark and Seymour.]

cw: self-harm

[necromants]

[Tartarus. It hasn't been long since they left this place - chased by Typhon and his beast, saved by Fenyx's sudden arrival - but somehow it feels like it's been far, far longer. Maybe that's because of everything today has been. It's hard to tell. Zvei hasn't felt this damn tired since he was alive, but there's no rest for the wicked or the dead. He has to be the one to get Seymour, because he can't let any of the others get to him first.

Fenyx is with him, of course, the goddess having guided him back down here just to find Seymour. A kindness neither of them deserve, quite frankly, but one Zvei is immensely grateful for. Perhaps she'll depart to go bring Quark back to those eagerly awaiting his arrival, or maybe she'll at least have the decency to pretend to let these two have a private conversation.

Seymour will find himself waking up here with little explanation as to how, why, or what this place even is, though at the very least all of his injuries are healed. He also has approximately one comment to himself before Zvei gets here, because he is rapidly approaching. Not quite running - not yet - though it's only barely restrained. Blood pools in his palms against his nails where they're balled up and biting into the skin again; injuries that aren't nearly as bad as anything Seymour sustained just now.

Welcome to being dead, Seymour.]

cw: brainfog

[latinumsbetter]

[Quark dies. He knew he was going to when he does; it's pretty inevitable. He'd used the last of his energy to throw some fire at Seymour (a hint, if they look close enough,) and then, once that idiot was gone, to write out the number Aoi told him. Maybe, if they can get her phone back from him, if they remeber the number, she can be saved.

He won't be around to see it if they do.

The river, at first, is calming. It feels almost familiar, and his thoughts feel like they're in a fog. He can only wonder if this is the Great Material Continuum for a moment, that river that flows through all things. Where might it be taking him? All the sudden, he’s rudely yanked out. He’s too startled to even shriek as he’s shoved through a portal, stumbling, disoriented, falling to his hands and knees.

Quark breathes, quietly for a moment, before he sits back on his haunches. His hands rest on the top of his thighs and he just...sits there for a long moment, quiet.]