aionlogs | EVENT #6: BY HEAVEN OR HELL (WRAP-UP)

EVENT #6: BY HEAVEN OR HELL (WRAP-UP)

By Heaven or Hell

THE SNARE (cw: gore)

Above Achamoth, blow after brutal blow is rained down upon the Sanctifier. It's fiery wings have been drowned by the abyssal waters of Childe's corrupted voyager, and its chest torn open by the Regent's power. Though it tries to flee, it is assailed from all sides, tearing away scales and burning flesh, its eyes blinded with blood and infection. Even its roar has been torn, the damage to its throat leaving its thundering voice strangled and broken. As Childe's lance drives through the top of its skull and out the bottom of its jaw, it seems that its demise must be imminent.

Yet, this is a creature of the Pleroma. Fueled by a force that fights for life at all costs, the Sanctifier is denied an easy rest. Fitting, perhaps, that its host refuse just as vehemently. Within this ravaged body, Estinien Wyrmblood still struggles, even as each breath is choked by blood and blinding pain. He refuses. He's not ready to be mourned. He's not ready for the fight to end. Himeka, Abel, Hayame... he'd told them... he'd told them he would stay by their side...

On faltering wings, the Sanctifier makes a final effort. The Pleroma responds to Estinien's resolve, and the fire within it ignites in a desperate burst, driving it to escape this city and defend its comrades. Estinien will feel his soul seared with the intensity of his wish, burning him up in the overwhelming light of this undying sun. All the while, the power of the Innocence holds his spirit close, as if hoping to shield him from what is to come. It pleads with him to relent, as it knows this course, and he will not return the same.

With that surge of light, it seem for a moment that the Sanctifier may actually accomplish it, that its wings might ferry it away from the shadows that bite at its heels. However, it's not to be. Not with the trap that's been set, but he Kenoma and their master.

Darkness swells at six points around the city. Six void-dark spears, deposited by the Regent's most trusted followers, activate as the Regent aims their final shot. Six rays of the abyss pierce Achamoth's sky, each one piercing through the Sanctifier's core, stopping its desperate effort before it can truly begin. Though the bolts of darkness seem to stretch for for miles at first, gradually the blur of shadow fades, resolving in the great dragon's body run through by spikes of purest Kenoma. The Sanctifier crumbles, the light of its form dissolving, one last broken cry of agony escaping.

The arrangement of spears holds true with the shift of its form, and as the light of the Pleroma leaves him, instead there is only Estinien. Instead of a colossal dragon, one man bears the wounds of the Sanctifier, his torso ravaged by the spears piercing it and the Regent's power, held in place despite the futile twitches of his battered wings. Just as the Sanctifier was missing a claw, he is missing a finger, and blood pours from his forehead where a lance just was, down through the bottom of his mouth. Ichor drains from one brutalized eye, the other opened wide with shock despite its visible pains.

Estinien tries to speak, but cannot. His hands struggle to pry a spear free from his chest, but he finds no purchase. His broken body hangs above the city for several seconds, as if on display, before an orb of void envelopes him and he disappears.

A FINAL BENISON

After the agonizing end of the Sanctifier, the presence of the Innocence will linger around the spirits of the Pleroma for a short time, as if allowed to disperse in the absence of the creature it was sustaining. There is a mournful weight to its essence, and softly, the Pleroma will hear it speak:

I failed... I have failed you... Again...

The presence is already beginning to fade, but those already touched by the Innocence will feel its power flare up within them, like a new candle lit from one almost burned to its end.

Please... do not despair... continue on... and find the peace I could not give you...

With that it goes silent, disappearing along with its host.

[OOC: Several characters will be receiving PMs regarding this.]

REGENT'S REPRISAL

The protective light of the Sanctifier fades, and the Pleroma will find themselves prematurely awash in a furious Achamoth, their enemies having multiplied from from a mere two dozen Aions to hundreds, if not thousands of Horosians. The military, having been rendered helpless for most of this struggle, are eager to pick up the slack, firing with what offensive magic they hold and alchemy enhanced weaponry. Even civilians, furious and humiliated by what they perceive as Pleroma tricks, will begin to lash out, throwing what improvised weapons they might have and shouting abuse; anything to help destroy these invaders.

The shadows of the city, having been swelling since the beginning of the Sanctifier's fall, will seem to chase the Pleroma through the streets. Like violent ghosts, specters of darkness pursue them, lashing out with intangible claws that feel like shocks of cold torment. Sometime, they may even land small physical blows, like claw marks and bruises left by unseen spirits. These malformed spirits shriek with suffering and discontent, but only Aions seem to perceive them. Those with Tier 2 attunements will have the clearest gaze of ethereal forms, like the wretched, half remembered remains of people and creatures long past.

FROM THE SKIES

As the void swallows Estinien, Seekers & Visionaries of both sects are hit with a series of images flashing through their mind; thick green forests, a tall mountain sitting apart, a golden eye barely concealed by smoke. Red scaled lids close once only to sharply pull back as the eye widens swallows all around it. The vision fades in an instant.

A chorus of unfamiliar roars and screeches echo across the Citadel. Where one dragon once stood, dozens now swarm the air above the gathered Aions. These dragons appear in all sizes and patterns, some with scales hardened like wood or stone while others appear feathered and nearly birdlike. Any Pleroma who have spent time in Greentruth may recognize the shapes as shadows that have passed in the canopy overhead even if they have not crossed the paths of these dragons before. Reinforcements.

A little too late.

The dragons descend upon the Citadel led by a familiar figure; Tehri of the Deep Mists rides atop one of the largest of the dragons as they all come to land on the stony ground at the Pleroma front. They will provide cover for those looking to leave the battlefield and a flight back to Greentruth. If there are Pleroma who are staying to fight longer, a few dragons will wait around the edges until all battles have ceased. They are only dragons, so they could come under fire by the Kenoma should attacks be made.

Tehri stays on the largest dragon as it rears its head above the siege of the ire of the dead. She stands tall atop it, extending her arms as a cool blow envelopes her hands. A rush of cold air pushes forth as a thick mist forms in the courtyard, obscuring vision for all but a few feet in front any person. The Regent's malformed spirits are left confused and without direction, but will attack any Pleroma they do manage to find. The mists linger for several hours after the last Pleroma has fled Achamoth.

WRAP-UP

Returned to their homes of choice, each Aion will be free to recover and carry on with their daily affairs. Word of the assault on Achamoth gradually spreads across Horos, prompting startled reactions its populace. Has the Pleroma truly been so brazen? Had the dragon in the sky truly been as grand as they say? Had the dragon of the wood truly answered in turn? The raid will eventually be a hot topic of discussion in every corner of the continent, though there were few non-Achamite eye witnesses. It can be expected that the details will be exaggerated, understated, and misunderstood wildly.

❖ IMPORTANT NOTES

◆ REGENT'S RESPONSE: After the Pleroma have left the city, the Kenoma will receive a communion from the Regent whether or not their shards are exposed. Their multi-toned voice will express contentment with the outcome of the struggle, explaining that they have successfully captured the Innocence and its host. With this link to its power claimed, they have what they need to end its threat. Kenoma will be welcomed to join them in their throne room to see this done a few days after the battle, but attendance is not mandatory. There will be a short NPC log posted to cover this, though we will warn that the Innocence's 'execution' will be fairly gruesome, so if you have a more uncertain Kenoma whom you don't want to scare off the path, it may be best to not have them attend.

◆ DRAGONS ENGAGED: As the majority of the PVP and PVE finishes up, there are dragon NPCs available to battle against at your discretion. We will not thread these battles, but if any Kenoma would like to try to take out one of the dragons, they can reply below and we will do a mod roll for their success. Any killed dragons may be dealt with as desired in Achamoth. There won't be a Kenoma knock out mechanic for this, unless players specifically want to be mangled by a dragon.

◆ STATE OF ACHAMOTH: Achamoth managed to avoid any irreparable mass destruction as a result of the raid, though there were some 'presumably Pleroma' assaults on civilian infrastructure that will be highly talked about in coming weeks, including the looting of a few houses, attempted arson of a church, and the attempted destruction of a factory. While the Sanctifier was not purposely attacking Achamite civilians, its battle with the Kenoma did result in some casualties among both the military and civilian population, while other soldiers were slain by the Pleroma on the ground. (Or, in one case, one of the Kenoma?) Multiple watchtowers were destroyed by the dragon's throes. In general, Achamoth is furious about this, and more hateful towards the Pleroma than ever.

◆ RECONVENING IN GREENTRUTH: Once back in Greentruth, Tehri will send a communion to all the Pleroma and ask them to attend, if they can, the first Aion Council meeting in early Sekiseri. She encourages all to take the time to heal both physically and mentally in the days to come. The council meeting Tehri is requesting will take place in September. This will be offered as part of a mini-event log where characters will be able to discuss with one another and speak with Tehri directly.

◆ VALLEY OF THE INNOCENT: Any Aions passing through the Innocent's Shrine will notice that, following the Innocence's 'execution', the once lush valley's plant-life is starting to die off in what is clearly a non-seasonal manner. Locals will say that the valley is generally in a state of eternal spring, and this is the first time they've seen it suffer like this. The death of the flora here is not complete or immediate, but it is devastating considering the valley's former state of perfection.

◆ SEKISERI: There will be no game-wide event in September, but there will be some NPC activity of various flavors. Players will be free to plot their own activities as they will.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Sebastian may not consider the metaphor perfect, but it seems to agree with Matt: his expression warms and softens as he speaks. He does think of this ability as symphonic, harmonious--a channel of shared frequencies.

He laughs softly. ]

If you wanna give it a try, the price of admission is-- [ He wiggles the fingers of his right hand. ] --any skin to skin contact. But I should warn you, the physical aspect is very ...

It's sensual. Sometimes that just means the experience of inhabiting your body, or things that've happened to it, but it can include fantasies or sexual experiences too. I've definitely, uh, had it happen that I've overshared with people through it; it's hard not to overshare. But if that's not off-putting to you ...

[ Matt's hand remains outstretched, though his fingers have stopped waving. They're simply crooked in invitation. ]

Oh.

[ It's definitely an oh of surprise rather than rejection, at least. From Matt's description, he had certainly expected that it might bring their small guessing game of what Sebastian was to an end. He could only imagine that Matt feeling what it was like to be him would make that clear enough. Though it's also part of why he's interested at all. What would it feel like for a human to inhabit his being, even for a moment?

However. If it's matters like that, it's something else entirely. They could easily be much more than Matt is bargaining for. Even just in the time that he's been wearing this particular face, anything more sensual in nature would be a lot. That's to say nothing of every face and every summoning that came before it. He couldn't even think of one that might stick out more than others.

It was clear that this was a sort of exchange, and he could accept easily that to do so would likely change Matt's opinion of him. Simply recognizing him as a demon was enough for that. But there's a potential for Matt to dig into a darkness more than that. Sebastian can recognize the possibility that it might actually be something dangerous for Matt to do. ]

It is not off-putting, no.

[ But he doesn't reach to take Matt's hand. It's not exactly a warning given out of the goodness of his heart (if he even has such a thing), but more a practical, logical assessment. It's the peculiar way that Sebastian's genuine consideration tends to present itself, since the empathy that backs it for others simply isn't there for him. ]

It is a bit of an anti-climatic end to our guessing game... But I do believe that I should offer the truth first.

[ Though he also doesn't want to just say it. That truly would take away all the fun. ]

Do you have a guess at what sort of "different thing" I am?

[ Matt more or less expected this reaction: the oh, the hesitation. That's why he tries to warn people before he does this shit. It feels especially pressing when there's Aions involved, since they share so much already--from the vibrations of a common Legacy to popping into each other's heads at will. It's extremely reasonable to want a break from all that.

So Matt's been more focused on how to explain the power itself, so Sebastian would know what he was signing up for. He hasn't thought about what he might learn. But of course, whatever it is, he wants to learn it. This has been true of Matt for as long as he's been conscious of himself: He always has to know. ]

Well, [ Matt considers. His hand lowers to the earth floor, but remains extended, closing the distance between them by the span of fingers and forearm. ] You aren't a human. You've been around for a long time, and have a sense of ... affinity with darkness. You remember everything you see, and you can manifest things you've seen or can envision, but it's not magic.

[ He huffs out a sigh, shooting Sebastian a look of rueful amusement. It's a look that says Matt has wrestled with this question in his off time, but hasn't managed to reach a conclusion. ]

I would've bet you were some kind of chthonic chaos being, if it weren't for the way you've described your creative limits. I think of chaotic forces as being pretty generative. So that leaves me with just the chthonic, which isn't much of a guess.

Gun to my head, I guess ...

Unseelie fae. Why not.

[ His interest had stayed light up to this point, but he can't help the more sly smile and twinkle of amusement that comes to his eyes as Matt moves into his guesses. Each consideration doesn't change his expression, since he doesn't want to give it away too soon. It's exactly the sort of response that would be stereotypically expected from such beings, but especially the fae. ]

Ah, both excellent guesses. Between the two, the former is likely closer, but chaos, as you point out, does not suit me quite as well. Some of my kind, certainly, but not myself.

[ As he gives the answer, it's subtle and easily missed, but the way he regards Matt does shift slightly. It's not so casual, but he's observing as he gives the answer. There's always a part of revealing his nature that he's curious about, because the reactions are always diverse. Here in Horos, he found that to be especially true. ]

I am a demon.

[ Like saying he can see souls, that's given a pause of weight too, though this one is shorter, actually. ]

I meant nothing unkind or untoward by the guessing game, to be clear. Call it a bit of caution to start. I imagine I needn't explain that revealing my nature so casually comes with quite a few risks.

[ Now it's Matt's turn to say: ]

Oh.

[ In moments of uncertainty, he used to scrub his hand over the faint, hairline scar on his left cheek. Now he has no left hand, but its lack hasn't fully stopped his body from trying to complete the gesture. Matt's arm raises slightly before he stops himself.

His first thought, which he fortunately manages not to voice, is, But you're so pretty? He thinks of demons as looking ... well, the way the one he'd tried to summon had looked. A column of black, vaguely humanoid smoke. But then again, M and J are both really attractive, so maybe Matt needs to examine his preconceived notions of what a malignant spiritual entity can be.

He's probably been sitting here silently for too long. ]

Ah, well, [ he hastens to reassure Sebastian, ] I didn't think it was meanspirited or anything. More like a game. Which, I mean, you called it a guessing game, so ... I didn't read anything bad into it, is what I'm trying to say.

[ Sebastian just waits patiently for a response, but the fact that it isn't immediate is more than enough, in a way. If it were negative, the response would be sharp and sudden, since naturally, a demon has quite a reputation with its name. It's not unfair, either. He's simply one that's particularly good at playing nice, and here in Horos, has a strong reason to. But as Matt slips to reassurances, Sebastian's cool smile warms quickly with amusement. ]

You know, people here have been taking meeting a demon in the flesh surprisingly well. As with matters of the soul, I am so used to people losing their composure! [ He says, knowing full well that it's generally not something presented in a way that wasn't terrifying... ] Not even a "get away from me, Satan" by implication yet.

[ And he laughs, warm and pleasant, and just a touch wider than normal which shows small, but nonthreatening fangs in his mouth. It might dawn on Matt that Sebastian's smiles have tended towards being just clipped enough to hide them... Or maybe he just had a bit of control over details of his appearance. Who can say, really? ]

Well, I am not complaining for it, mind you. It is very much my preference to receive such kindness, but it is unexpected. And I did wish to be upfront, since, well... By how you describe this ability of yours, it very well could be a touch more lurid than what you may be used to. So, knowing that—

[ It's his turn to offer his hand, and it's a gesture that feels more formal coming from him. It's just habit on his part, being well-used to playing the role of the Victorian butler, but it's definitely presented with the sort of grace of a gentleman in a period drama, at least from Matt's point of view. ]

If you are still so inclined.

[ Matt's lips twitch. ]

I'm glad people have been chill. And ... I appreciate your honesty.

But you aren't the first demon I've met, so in terms of inclination ...

[ His smile softens in the face of Sebastian's rather gallant gesture. It's almost courtly--or maybe literary. Even if Matt were the kind of person who could turn down the prospect of knowledge, he'd never say no to such an appealing offer. He shifts on the earthen floor, stretching to close the gap between them. His fingers curl around Sebastian's.

And in the instant their hands touch, there's--

Matt's heartbeat, first. The glass-blown vestibules of his lungs, blood shuddering down its hundreds of corridors. Each sensation is as vibrant and tangible as if it lay under Sebastian's own skin. It's why Matt conceives of this ability as a channel: it flows, without beginning and without end. Their bodies are themselves, distinct and particular, but also one.

On the heels of this sense of embodiment comes information. The bright-hot ecstasy of teeth sinking into Matt's thigh, which is Sebastian's thigh--a hungry mouth drinking life from him, filling him with warmth and purpose. And forever, inevitably, waiting just beyond the edges of Matt's perception, a shadowed fingertip drags an eternal claw across his cheek. These things feel as though they're happening--they're as immediate as reality, searing over skin and nerves in just the way Matt experienced them. ]

[ He knows there's an irony here because Communion was a process that he disliked greatly precisely because of how it opened up his mind. Sebastian carried an affect of being open and affable, but he was an intensely private creature when it came down to matters of thoughts and emotion. Those were the things that would reveal him for what he was, after all. But even so, he and Matt are similar, because he's no more able to turn down the prospect of knowledge.

What would it feel like to be a human? That's a question that can only be answered through experience. For a moment, it wouldn't seem like a question Sebastian could be interested in. That channel opens, and there's a calm heartbeat, a breath, but the connection slips past the well-crafted mask to what lies beneath.

Sebastian's human heartbeat becomes an echo of something far away in a cold that's devoid of any of those signs of life. The connection settles in something that feels humanoid, but also more. There's an extension of self where a mass of countless eyes and mouths are all felt as secondary and always moving like the smoky uncertainty of the demon Matt had met before. It's powerful. There's physical strength that's easily felt, but that indistinct power is sharper, as if anything could be made real if Sebastian simply wanted it to be. It's simply part of what he is as much as Matt's heart is to him.

His first impression of the answer is that it's warm. Truly feeling the warmth of blood underneath his skin rather than it being a sensation based purely on the imagination needed to create a human form is strange, but not unpleasant. It's further from unpleasant when he feels teeth on skin, that warmth being drained away and then the sear of a claw that Sebastian absolutely finds familiar.

Delicate. That's surely the second part of the answer. With both, it feels that with just a bit more given, a little more warmth taken, that would be it.

The flow reverses, continuing its trend as a mirror image. Sebastian's (their—now Matt's simultaneously) fingers trace up a porcelain leg until it meets its edge where the prosthetic meets flesh. He lingers on the seal stamped into the band at the top, tracing out its pattern teasingly, but also to remember it, because it's part of why he's here. His hand continues further up until her breath hitches, and there's an easy, languid sense of satisfaction that comes from the noise.

One memory bleeds to another, and now it's Sebastian's dark, clawed hand reaching out. There's a small, grimy one outstretched to meet it, and that pitch black hand takes it delicately, taking care for claws not to cut into that delicate flesh. The smell of blood and death is thick and heavy in the air, and it's these hands that had brought it, but that's just an afterthought. More than anything, taking this hand brings forth a hunger, because he's been starving himself for this very moment. A new master was a new meal, even if this one was especially small and wretched. ]

[ Matt feels himself sink as if into deep water or a black hole, falling away from the surface of taut-pulled skin and polite heartbeat. Down here, the gravity is made of eyes and mouths, and its pull shifts according to the whims of an abyssal tide. Later, Matt won't be able to remember the particulars of this sensation, in part because embodiment in one's real form doesn't feel like anything, most of the time; it simply is. But he'll remember power, and formlessness, and oil-black catalyst.

His (their) fingers skim over porcelain, over flesh; his black-clawed hand takes a smaller one, and he writhes with hunger. As his senses mingle with Sebastian's, Matt feels like a perfect circuit: an ouroboros, looped in an infinitely repeating cycle of feast and flesh.

Matt doesn't make a conscious choice to pull away. A piece of him wants to linger here as long as he can, soaking in the strange atmosphere of a body so foreign to him. But their hands separate, and the connection abruptly drops. The scent of blood lingers in Matt's nostrils. ]

Ah.

[ The quick, shallow gasp sounds almost enlightened. Matt blinks wide eyes Sebastian's way.

Breathlessly, he smiles. ]

... So, uh.

That's the thing.

[ It's so strange, so new and novel, that Sebastian is hardly inclined to pull away either. As they had half-joked a few minutes ago, he was a hedonist, and this is an entirely new sensation in which to indulge. Whatever reservations he may have had about someone taking a peek into his own memories and experiences are gone quickly as he instead drinks in Matt's greedily.

It simply feels so different just to feel through a body without the distance that hiding his true face and form requires. There's knowledge in it too, a way that the next time he takes a human form, his imagining of it will be even better, but for once, that practical concern is secondary. It's just sensation and memory, and he feels hungry for it. Of course he does. Could the soul not be defined with terms like that?

But Matt is the one to pull away.

At some point, Sebastian had leaned closer. It's a bit more intimate, almost as if Sebastian were going in for a kiss, but it's not that at all. It's much darker, much greedier than that, and Matt had felt its core firsthand. It's a very literal hunger, though it's an impulse that Sebastian couldn't act on even if he had tried.

He laughs lightly as he ducks his head and pulls back, a perfectly charming gesture to accompany being playfully bashful. None of that hedonistic hunger shows in his expression in the slightest, and he instead leans towards the perception that it was a moment of being caught up and being too forward. ]

And what a thing! You continue to surprise me, Matt.

[ His tone is definitely one of praise at the end, which is definitely genuine, at least! Even if he had gotten caught up in his less than savory impulses for a moment, he's very genuinely appreciative of Matt showing him something novel.

Which, to that point... As he looks up again, his gaze settles for a moment on the faint scar on Matt's cheek before meeting his eyes. He's curious about it, obviously, but he'll lead into the topic with a different question first. ]

...What was it like? To feel as I feel?

[ Matt has long noticed that when bodies draw near each other, a certain gravitational pull can come into effect. A shared sway, as if breath and pulse want to orbit each other the way planets do. And when faces get close enough--in his experience--a kiss is nearly inevitable. So when Sebastian draws closer to him, for a moment, Matt wants--

Well. What he always wants. Knowledge, vision, heat. Friction. A sliver of him remembers enough of the open channel to know what Sebastian must want in return, and half wants to give it to him. Desire, in Matt's view, is a fundamental law of the universe--a good in itself, an arrow that doesn't care where it lands, only how it flies. And he does know how to let others devour him, doesn't he?

But then Sebastian pulls back, and Matt, as if loosed from a snare, exhales again. His shoulders sink. ]

Oh, [ he murmurs at the question. He quirks a sheepish smile of his own as he considers. ] Well ... it's already hard for me to put words around, but it felt like ...

Not having a form so much as having potential. But having an origin. In the dark. [ A flutter of laughter. ] Sorry. That sounds so weird.

Not strange at all. I can hardly describe what it was to be human any better.

[ He’s appreciative for the answer, and naturally, feels it’s one he should return. It’s only fair, but slightly more than that, he has a much stronger sense that they’re similar in more than a few ways. An answer to a question that was otherwise impossible to know was of great interest. ]

By comparison, I would describe your own as warm first, odd as that may be. You feel of… life itself, trite as that may be.

[ He pauses and looks at his own hand. It’s perfectly human in appearance, save for the naturally pitch black nails, but it simply doesn’t have the same feeling. This human appearance was always an approximation, even if it was more than convincing at this point. But still, how strange it was to feel the warmth underneath his own skin.

With no more ceremony than how he had created the book that sits by Matt, his hand simply is something else. A mote of shadowy black drifts away from his fingertips and dissipates into the air quickly, but it likely feels familiar now to Matt. That shadow simple is Sebastian, likely far more than his overall appearance. This dark, carapace-covered hand also is. It was the one in the memory that had reached out to grab that small hand. ]

…And then fragile. Not in any way meant to be an insult, mind you, but I suspect you understand it now. You simply are far more delicate than I. To even touch you with these claws, I imagine I would draw your blood. It was… enlightening, I believe.

Warm makes sense to me. [ Matt quirks a smile as Sebastian speaks, his expression one of rueful commiseration. ] And life ... I mean, yeah. I don't know how to define it except as itself.

[ The maddening thing about occult knowledge is how frequently it defies description. Maybe that's its first line of defense against the sunlight of mainstream awareness--not secrecy, greed, or academic pride, but its simple refusal to let itself be put into words.

Sebastian's hand--shifts--and Matt's gaze is drawn to the change. He finds himself both surprised by the sight, here in the rational, atomized world of his own lonely perspective, and completely unsurprised. After all, how can you be startled by something that's been your own, however briefly?

"Fragile" and "delicate," meanwhile, make him feel like he should go find a fainting couch somewhere. But it's undeniable that human bodies are vulnerable. He's learned that lesson the hard way in recent days. He doesn't say that, though: downer topic. Instead, his lips twitch once more. ]

I've gotta believe you already knew what it takes to make a human bleed.

Oh, without a doubt.

[ He taps the claws against the palm of his hand, just gentle clacks as they hit the harder surface of his real skin. It punctuates his point in part, but he had brought forth this hand more for the reason of almost shaking off a lingering sensation. Just as quickly as it had come forth, it’s hidden again behind the human appearance. Even if he was now hardly concerned about Matt seeing it, Sebastian still found his human mask more useful than the real face underneath. ]

Most of my contracts have involved shedding blood in one way or another, so I am intimately familiar.

[ He shrugs lightly, but his serious tone shifts to a more playful and wry one, because of course this topic is dark, but he can’t help but approach it a little playfully. ]

But I shall not bore you with talk of work. I am no longer a contract worker, after all!

[ Contracts seem to be the modus operandi for demons more often than not. It strikes Matt as a strange juxtaposition: chaos and legalistic order. Then again, what better to hold them? In the beginning was the word. ]

Sure, [ Matt agrees amiably. ] All work and no play … etcetera. What do you want to talk about?

[ This is a bit of a dangerous question, given the laundry list of topics Matt would rather not get into. Some of which have just been broadcast straight to Sebastian’s marrow. But Matt’s curious to hear what he’ll say. ]

[ He's slightly surprised that Matt agrees so easily, since mentioning it offhandedly had really been a way to try to lead into the question he most wants to ask. Sebastian isn't actually opposed to talking about his contracts and how they work at all, and he knows well that they're a subject of fascination. But perhaps that's why Matt lets it drop. He may know such answers already. ]

...Well. It may be somewhat forward of me, and so there is no pressure to answer should you not wish to.

[ Of course, he very much wants to know. But with politeness is always put forward first, especially since he wasn't able to ease into the topic like he had been thinking. He cants his head lightly to the side as a curious gesture, but his eyes fall on that faint scar on Matt's face. ]

You have met my kind before, I take it? That is an exceptionally rare thing, at least in my experience.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT #6: BY HEAVEN OR HELL (WRAP-UP)

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