AWAKENING

[cordibus]

Who: Everyone
When: Midnight, June 6th
Where: Green Valley Orchids
What: It is time.

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

The subway stop near the orchards was not the type of place that most people liked to be when darkness fell. The orchards near the school were set up almost like a public park, which wasn’t so bad in and of itself, but it’s also the area where over half of the murders happened before the curfew was first put in place. It was a place people didn't go unless absolutely necessary and most had started taking alternate routes to avoid the stop. As one of the first subway stations built in the city, its architecture didn't really mesh with those that came after it. It had jagged corners where the smell of wet earth lingered, making it unpleasant even for those brave enough to continue to use it, and there had even been talk of closing it permanently once routes and nearby stations had been revamped to be better able to take care of the traffic.

Due to this, it only has the bare-bones of a shelter, fallen into disrepair as the curfew was enforced city-wide, and a couple of night guards, (probably already asleep due to the lack of activity they’re expecting), so characters arriving there will be mostly unnoticed. For a place that had such a bad history, most people rightfully avoid it.

For most of them it will be their first meeting with each other. There will be a bit of time to talk before their phones display a zero. Plenty of time to talk about what they suspect and what might just happen...and that horrible vision they had shared. Then there’s that countdown on their phones...ticking away the last few minutes.

ZERO UNTIL MIDNIGHT

The lights go out when the countdown ends. The lack of sound is, for lack of better word, worrying. Very soon, only the light of the phones serves as makeshift flashlights for the small group. But soon, even as words get displayed, a deep male voice echoes, which could be much more worrying.

FINALLY! Ahahahahah! Ahhh, damn does it feel nice to be able to speak and not
just write. Hey lambs, are you all ready?

Considering the choice of words, that might be Luci.

It's time. Can you feel your heartbeats increasing? Your mind about to explode? Questions swirling in your mind? Just make sure you don't go alone. Groups are
best, go all together and you'll never find the answers.

The voice laughs again.

Not that you have much of a choice at this point! Have fun, give them hell, and tell
them I sent you! I'll be taking care of that pesky guard problem for you.
...Let's go for a night stroll."

Communication ends just as abruptly as it started. No time to back down now, as the door where the guards are staying is quickly locked on its own before the subway system itself appears to be taken over by a virus that flashes on every available screen. With a click, the locked doors to the outside are swung open.

A voice in your mind warns you this might be the biggest mistake you'll be making in your entire life...and yet your heart feels like it's going to burst from your body from the joy you feel...

AWAKENING

It begins with a scream nearby. The same noise that they heard during the vision. The trees begin to turn grey as the sounds of hundred of creatures moving can be heard from all sides. The application opens, displaying them all in real time.

The group is surrounded.

By all logic, they should be running, but their legs feel bolted to the ground. They can't move.

The creatures begin to get closer. The trees start to rot nearby.

Breathing begins to increase. The sound of voices and memories quickly flashing before their eyes that might cause some to clutch at their head...exactly the same thing that the man had been doing back in the vision. If they look down at their hands, they will see them fading, see-through.

Yet for them, something is different. Just as the creatures are about to attack, they stop. A vision of the Velvet Room flashes before the eyes of those gathered as the two attendants silently nod. Then a return to reality as a light of color pierces the night from their hearts. A single voice can be heard, drowning out anything they might be hearing.

The time is now. I am thou, thou art I! Your mind is trapped, but I can set your soul free! My other self, will you die, or fight back?

Accept me for who I am! Forge this contract by letting go of your fears! Revolt against this world, and TEAR OUT YOUR HEART!

It laughs and fades, as time quickly returns to this world. There's only a few seconds to react before it all goes to hell. A faded hand to reach into your chest.

The choice is yours. Death...or Awakening.

THE BATTLE IN APPLE GROVE

It’s a feeling unlike they have ever felt. Never have their bodies been so alive. Their minds fill with lost memories, their bodies adapting into tools to defeat the creatures before them.

Defeat...destroy...unlock the skills of your heart and show them what it means
to cross you."

The voice is encouraging, almost. To those with navigator skills, the voice speaks up once more as well.

Lead them into battle. Hone their skills into true annihilation!"

It’s time to reclaim the night.

[OOC: For the purpose of this battle, the shadows all have 1HP and are strong against nothing. That means any attack will be able to kill them, weapons and guns included. For this log only, CHARACTERS WILL NOT BE ABLE TO COMBINE SPELLS, as knowledge of this will be unlocked later on. There are about a HUNDRED shadows to be defeated, so there are as many needed for your characters to enjoy killing off. You are free to NPC them and to create situations and close calls.

An OOC PLANNING POST can be used to ask questions or to form teams.]

Comments

[tellmeimbeautiful]

Where is he? He has to be nearby... the last thing Rosiel remembers is the explosion and the warmth of his body against his... He is alive, he can feel it deep within him, he can feel it in the three wings that house his power and gave the boy life all those years ago. Alive, alive, his son is alive.

"KATAN!"

Rosiel screams over the carnage and pushes through combatants and monsters alike, they are all meaningless. Humans and demons fighting over a piece of land. Meaningless.

A young man falls in front of him. Rosiel barely registers the crunch of bones, the blood. What does he care of men? Base creatures living out useless barren lives in ignorance. Mere puppets to bend to his will and achieve his goals for him.

And yet something still catches his eyes. A black form sprawled on the ground. Fine, regular features, silvery hair... Rosiel's breath hitches as the fallen man brings up a memory of his son, in his dark uniform, sprawled in just the same way, like a broken doll, his silvery fair speckled with blood.

The man stands back up, dark clothes and shining glass-like hair, as one of the strange golems hurtles towards him. Without even thinking, Rosiel raises a hand and casts a spell. The dark mass recoils in fear and aborts its attack.

And only then does the three-winged angel throw his head back, laughing. Laughing and laughing and laughing.

1/2

[sunderings]

It is as terrible as it is lovely, the sound of Rosiel's laughter; a reckless abandon manifest as the sweetest of trills, the toll of it striking a chord deep within the Hero King himself, for there had been a time when he had choked on such laughter. When he had smiled as he had cried, choosing to walk the path of a monster for the sake of preserving something soft and something beautiful—something like the love which brought a friend to another's side in a moment of need, a sentiment so profound and heartrendingly human that its brightness alone would drive back the dark.

As the Shadow recoils, Sion lunges forward, the aether cannon swept up and away by his Persona—the weapon returned to its function as Focolar's breastplate once more—and a sword of black and gold is pulled from the chasm of the King's chest, its blade putting the revenant to rest.

(In his head, Sion hears the voice of another echoing at the back of his mind; the slow, melodic drawl of a warning he will never forget: "It is simple, my King, no longer being human. All you need to do is abandon you reasoning; all you need to do is give into the siren's song of madness. Once you do that, you'll find the greatest pleasure. You will come to devour humans. Your family, friends, allies, brethren, and those most important to you: you will come to devour all of them, and you will laugh.)

"Professor..." Sion starts out of habit, lowering his sword as he adjusts his stance, at guard but still full of grace, his movements unnatural to the human eye, or perhaps strangely (wonderfully, nostalgically) normal when perceived by an Angel. "You—"

2/2

[sunderings]

Are in danger, he does not finish, for another Shadow has appeared behind Rosiel, and just as the Angel had, the Hero King acts upon impulse, bridging the distance between himself and the person he once fancied as a mentor in the breadth of a moment...!

And puts his body between Rosiel and the attacking Shadow as a shield.

Claws rake across the back of Sion's shoulder, but he seems not to notice, his expression only one of intense focus even as gold blood (incandescent and shining, as though something had gone putrid and vitriolic inside of him) wells from the cuts, staining all that it touches. As long as Rosiel remains unscathed—

"Sunder the creature, Focalor!" The King commands, and with a spell (kouha) the Shadowed mass collapses, curling in, upon itself in many folds before disappearing from sight entirely.

—nothing else matters.

With the second Shade vanquished, the area of the orchard seems to fall quiet, eerily still as the sounds of the ongoing battle echo from a distance, and Sion's gaze falls upon Morgan. Miss Leigh. The person he does and does not know:

"You've my thanks, but... you really must mind yourself more."

Ah? What's this? The person who is bleeding is doling out a scolding about being more careful???

[tellmeimbeautiful]

"Professor?" Rosiel's golden eyes turn to the young man he has helped, and he frowns, trying to reconcile this title of "professor" with his birthright, the title of "lord" he has always known. Lost in thought, he notices the creature too late, and before he can move out of the way, Sion intervenes, taking the blow that had been meant for him, slaying the demon.

Blood. Oozing from a wound on the young man's shoulder. Amber, iridescent blood. Rosiel can't tear his eyes away: the blood that had seemed red in the darkness, that blood now shines gold. He pulls his right glove off with his teeth and tucks it in his belt before reaching out, running a manicured hand along the wound, watching in wonder as his pale skin is stained yellow. Soon the contact is gone, and he turns his hand this way and that, watching as the blood slowly runs down his fingers, a drop coalescing on the tip of his index, a drop that would have fallen had he not brought his finger to his lips.

The metallic tang of blood is familiar on his tongue. Angels, human, demons... In the end, once you peel away their skins and their sins, they all taste the same.

"You've my thanks, but... you really must mind yourself more."

Sion's words shake Rosiel out of his musings and he focuses on the other man's face again. "Lecturing me... is not a proper greeting, you know." He shrugs and continues, nonchalantly. "This cursed body won't die. I've tried. Others have, too. And yet I am still here."

[ooc: little does he know the rules have changed... also, wow, that quote in 1/2 was so perfect.]

[sunderings]

Strange, to think that this person—this being—had once been exactly as Sion had intoned: professor, eccentric but kind, reluctant to speak of personal matters but able to quote great, masterful works on a whim (if you are Childe Harold, then I am Phyrrus of Epirus) when pertinent to the time and place, somehow giving meaning to the circumstances which had befallen them both. But is there any meaning to be found in the way Rosiel runs willow-thin fingers along the clawmarks bored into the King's shoulder (at the touch, Sion does not flinch away, perhaps taken by the disparity between the mentor he once knew and the Angel that has replaced them), bringing the incandescent liquid (blood) to his lips?

To taste in a way which might have made Sion's expression darken, had he lesser self-control. But as it is, the King's will is absolute, and he does not crave; the need to devour does not awaken in him despite the memories he has regained and all the weight of the lives (worlds) he carries.

Instead: "Then we are the same, you and I, cursed and yet unable to meet with our end until our duties are complete."

It is a fathomless look which Sion regards Rosiel with, then, golden eyes (and golden blood) still fiercely alight and glowing in the darkness, and yet--... Their expression is fiercely gentle. Knowing, in only the most innocent of ways. Heavy and still perhaps lighter than any one of the feathers on Rosiel's three—beautiful and magnificent—wings.

(What an odd person, full of complexities, Sion is.)

"And perhaps my duty in the here and now is to protect my comrades in the present. To protect you, for even we, as cursed beings... We need not know further pain."

So...

Extending a hand—the motion elegant as the King's palm is offered, barefaced and open—he offers it for Rosiel to take, if the Angel should so wish it.

"Will you not join the others with me?"


( ahah! the quote was spoken by lucile, sion's bodyguard... who almost has as big a sister complex as rosiel does. )