[OPEN TO KENOMA] EXECUTION OF THE INNOCENT

[aionpcs]

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."

Comments

[aionpcs]

[The Regent shifts slightly: a visible reaction to that J is saying. They've noticed that Makoto was missing. That he has still not returned is concerning indeed.]

You hardly need my permission to take vengeance for your lost kindred. You may do what you will to the Pleroma responsible.

[The lean back.]

As to the how, there is insight I can provide.

[tohell]

[ From where the demon has been frozen in place, caught in a half-bow of courteous respect for the only entity he can entreat upon to grant this wish, there comes a slight stir at those words. J's hair, once swept away from his face, now hangs to obscure whatever twists and turns take place within features awash in ire at an enemy miles away. But when a glimmer of hope is dangled in front of his eyes, just as J had done so many times before to lesser beings, the humans he'd contracted in untold number, the demon's face tilts up from where it had been drawn down to stare at nothing but the imagery playing within his own mind. Gradually, like a crocodile surfacing the murky waters it had laid within in slumber, J's haunted eyes lift to peer beyond the swirl of shadows drawn over his face, to bore deep into the unreadable mask he fixates on in place of all else around them.

J has never been a patient man, so this license to seek vengeance freely without rebuke or consequence swells within him a deep pang of hunger for that satisfaction. Muscles coiled and back tense, readied to simply depart to pave the way towards something more than total inaction, he only gives pause in light of what follows. An insinuation that sends a tremor through the cold, dark thing once called his heart and stirs it to beat with anticipation. As if drawn by the pull of what the Regent promises, J slowly rises to his full height; eager to grasp at any boon that can grant leverage to regain what's been lost. ]

Then I can but humbly beseech you for the grace of such wisdom.