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[OPEN TO KENOMA] EXECUTION OF THE INNOCENT
WHO: The Regent and Interested Kenoma
WHAT: As promised, the Regent is carrying out the Innocence Entity's invite-only execution.
WHERE: The Regent's Throne Room.
WHEN: Firaseri 22nd, after dissipated Kenoma have emerged.
WARNINGS: Disturbing imagery, gore, limb loss, general unpleasantness.
It's the evening of the 22nd when the call goes out: it is time for the execution. This is purely an event for the willing and or eager, and besides being informed of it, no Kenoma will be pressured into attending. Those that are interested, however, will be led to the Regent's throne room for what promises to be a very special occasion.
Upon entry, the set up of the throne room will seem quite familiar to those that have been there before. A cavernous room filled with nothing but the throne itself, its emptiness seems an intentional call to the void. Several stairs lead to the dais where the throne sits, currently occupied by a the Regent. As usual, any details about the Regent are obscured behind flowing robes and a faceted mask. Presently, they are swirling around a glass of what is presumably wine, but drinking absolutely none of it. Any Kenoma that seem interested will be offered a drink by one of the Citadel servants on duty.
It's not just the Regent present, however. Off to the right side of the room, an arrangement of familiar void-dark spears have been fused into the wall and floor, with their prisoner still held at their center, pierced from all sides. Estinien Wyrmblood appears as little more than a shadow of his former self at this stage, every ounce of color stripped from him, in sharp contrast to the black ichor that bubbles and drips from a cruel assortment of wounds. One eye is swollen with infection, oozing void, while the other is completely blank with whiteness. Each limb has been shorn down to a stub, as if burned by a dark fire from the outside in; all except a set of ragged, broken wings strung up being him. His torso, pierced as it is, seems to be barely holding onto form.
If he reacts to the arrival of 'guests', it isn't apparent. Instead, he seems practically comatose, all except for that open eye and the shallow movements of his breath. His shard is exposed, resting beneath his collar bones, an eye-like shape that has become similarly colorless. The usual sheen of color that all shards hold has faded away, now showing nothing but the gray of the stone beneath it. Those with True Sight will see that he has fallen to the first tier of Pleroma, and even that he is only tenuously hanging on to.
At their throne, the Regent lifts their glass.
"Welcome, kindred."
WHAT: As promised, the Regent is carrying out the Innocence Entity's invite-only execution.
WHERE: The Regent's Throne Room.
WHEN: Firaseri 22nd, after dissipated Kenoma have emerged.
WARNINGS: Disturbing imagery, gore, limb loss, general unpleasantness.
It's the evening of the 22nd when the call goes out: it is time for the execution. This is purely an event for the willing and or eager, and besides being informed of it, no Kenoma will be pressured into attending. Those that are interested, however, will be led to the Regent's throne room for what promises to be a very special occasion.
Upon entry, the set up of the throne room will seem quite familiar to those that have been there before. A cavernous room filled with nothing but the throne itself, its emptiness seems an intentional call to the void. Several stairs lead to the dais where the throne sits, currently occupied by a the Regent. As usual, any details about the Regent are obscured behind flowing robes and a faceted mask. Presently, they are swirling around a glass of what is presumably wine, but drinking absolutely none of it. Any Kenoma that seem interested will be offered a drink by one of the Citadel servants on duty.
It's not just the Regent present, however. Off to the right side of the room, an arrangement of familiar void-dark spears have been fused into the wall and floor, with their prisoner still held at their center, pierced from all sides. Estinien Wyrmblood appears as little more than a shadow of his former self at this stage, every ounce of color stripped from him, in sharp contrast to the black ichor that bubbles and drips from a cruel assortment of wounds. One eye is swollen with infection, oozing void, while the other is completely blank with whiteness. Each limb has been shorn down to a stub, as if burned by a dark fire from the outside in; all except a set of ragged, broken wings strung up being him. His torso, pierced as it is, seems to be barely holding onto form.
If he reacts to the arrival of 'guests', it isn't apparent. Instead, he seems practically comatose, all except for that open eye and the shallow movements of his breath. His shard is exposed, resting beneath his collar bones, an eye-like shape that has become similarly colorless. The usual sheen of color that all shards hold has faded away, now showing nothing but the gray of the stone beneath it. Those with True Sight will see that he has fallen to the first tier of Pleroma, and even that he is only tenuously hanging on to.
At their throne, the Regent lifts their glass.
"Welcome, kindred."
After the execution
There you are, Matthew. [ Tall as he is, J has a habit of leaning into the personal space of whomever he's speaking to, reminiscent of something feline making its presence known by relentlessly demanding attention, and resorting to contact if simply taking up space doesn't get the job done. If anything, his is a greeting full of warm familiarity. All of it topped with the finishing touch of a hand that settles upon Matt's right shoulder. ] I've been meaning to catch up, but we've been rather like ships in the night, you and I.
How are you holding up- [ There's a thoughtful tilt of his head, without a hint of further clarification if J is discussing the scars left after a battle, the execution, or Matt's glaring absence the last few days and what that implies. Rumors pertaining to Aions, both Pleroma and Kenoma alike, don't stay sealed behind lips among the gossip network in Achamoth. So by the time he seeks out the man who had shown a knack for spell work and promised to aid J in finding a lost possession once before, the demon has long since caught wind of Matt's spell of forced downtime. ] All things considered?
[ It's as good an icebreaker as any to open with, by touching on a present wound and all at once soothing that fresh hurt. A demonic tool of the trade, but useful as always. ]
💃💃💃
J's approach is something Matt almost feels rather than sees or hears. The strange consonance in their natures, Visionary to Visionary, feels stronger than it ever has, like a string Matt could pluck to hear the sound. A warm hand settles onto his shoulder, producing a momentary tension that loosens to relief. J's warm voice comes a moment after. ]
Hi, [ he says, glancing up to meet his gaze. ] I'm sorry ... I meant to check on you too, but things got--kind of busy. [ His lips quirk ruefully. ] I'm okay now. Better than ever, in some senses.
[ He remains horrified by Estinien's appearance before the execution. Those six spears piercing him so cruelly, the candle stubs of his limbs. But if there's a place to voice that feeling, the Regent's throne room is definitely not it. ]
What about you? You didn't get hurt when the Pleroma came, did you?