Science is all about reproducing results, so a second mortar shell tests the barrier's integrity before Haabeth gets a reply.
~~~ wrote:Silver ineffective. Obstructions prevent alternative approaches. Repositioning. Recommend removing barrier source from inside.
Mecha Squiggles releases and retracts the braces and starts to move. He'll have to get closer than outside the neighborhood if he wants a straight line shot with no interfering obstacles.
[Madame Fidelity's House of Delight]
"I wouldn't expect you to be able to understand love." Ilpholin doesn't feel the need to fill them in on Darcy's powerful shapeshifting capabilities. The less they know the better.
Digging through the ice is far easier than stone and Ilpholin's writhing hair spreads quickly in all directions under their feet while the Devils argue amongst themselves.
"DIE."
Purple tendrils shoot up out of the floor throughout Madame Fidelity's House like spears. Seeking body heat and guided by the silver in their sharpened tips, they cut through petty illusions in order to violently stab all the demons in the place at one time. Sometimes piercing chests, sometimes digging all the way through the leg. Each time writhing into the wounds as deep as it can before the ends split and spiral outwards, spreading violently like a blossoming flower of death from within. Just like Darcy used to do, getting inside with the smallest of cuts and causing massive damage. Though the hair doesn't hesitate to twist and weave through its victims and attack them again and again from different angles until completely finished off. At least it's as fast as it is gruesome.
The woman already on the ground isn't touched, but the giant multi-Devil might want to watch her feet.
Well, she did just brutalize a few of them. That alone might retroactively justify their aggression toward her.
After all, it quickly becomes apparent that while Asera might be a supernaturally powerful fighter, these demons are... not. At least not as much so. The trio she slams the table into with enough force to break it in half react precisely the way she might expect ordinary human beings to; toppled over, in shock and with visibly bloody wounds, unable to get up for the sheer sudden pain of their injuries.
The succubus she just kidney-punched doesn't seem to be doing any better. She collapses immediately, holding her side, promptly trampled by the riotous mob moving to surround Asera.
They don't seem to be in much of a mood to talk. Though armed with pitiful improvised weapons, there are a great many of them, and Asera will soon find herself surrounded on all sides by demons' bodies, to a truly suffocating degree. Even if they can't hurt her immediately and directly, they still grasp and grope at her, attempting to collectively restrain her for some as-of-yet unknown purpose... though in all likelihood, probably not anything especially comfortable for her.
[Marketeering 102: Class Dismissed (Pre-Attack)]
Even Cassandra could not forestall fate. How, then, could Sera fare any better? That these streets will be awash with blood is preordained. That much is incontrovertible; she can only influence who holds the knife.
Asera’s dread mother would crush these insects underfoot without a second thought. Gleefully, she would pluck off their wings, contort their limbs into the most unnatural poses, and impale them on spikes like butterflies affixed to cork board. Like a Bathory, she would bathe in their blood and delight in their cries as she held them in her gore-slicked embrace. Asera could do much the same. Like the flames of a crematorium, she could char their bodies to ash. At her behest, the earth would crumble, immuring her detractors in its bosom until this world ceases to spin and its final reckoning commences.
But try as she might, Sera cannot live up to her mother’s legacy. Time and time again, she strives to embody brutality and again and again she fails completely Within this jumbled mess of chaos and cacophony, she is an unyielding force of order. Let this unruly mob impotently rail against my asperities, she thinks, for she has already taken her pound of flesh as recompense for their transgressions! Let them always remember that this was the day that -
Aghast, Asera watches the heedless mob careen toward her and the falling succubus - that damnable rabble-rouser who, in Asera's widening eyes, sparked this great conflagration and affronted her honor. In horror, she realizes that they have every intention of crushing this woman underfoot just to take another shot at her. She resolved not to kill anyone at the onset of this skirmish, yet these brutes would kill each other for a chance to stab, smack, or otherwise harm her. Not on her watch! In panic, she braces herself and dives forward, all tactics and technique forgotten as she races against this monstrous horde. As cudgels and spiked boots descend, she connects with the fallen succubus and disappears in a burst of black smoke that reeks of sulfur, leaving not a trace of the woman the denizens of Hell Bend had unjustly sentenced to death.
The bed, it turns out, is far more comfortable than it looks. In fact, when Zophiel goes to lay down, even if it's with the intention of getting back up again in a few moments, he's going to find that just touching the blanket seems to steady the room, as well as replace the flushed numbness with a sort of homely warmth. He won't recover any faster, but he'll at least be able to do so with the benefit of a clear head.
If he does nothing else, his alarm will eventually go off. This late in the evening, the hotel isn't going to be taking on any more guests. If Zophiel wants to follow through and talk to Tiff, that's an option.
Then again, she's not the only person here. That Petty lady might also know something.
Or he could risk breaking the rules and see about the other guests in the other rooms.
[Hotel]
While Tiff or that other lady are decent options to interrogate, they're both likely to stay here and he still has another open thread that currently has higher priority. And, as far as he can tell, there's no point in asking the other guests, as they'd probably know even less.
So he heads towards the exit of the hotel, intending to return to Mallory. Of course, if he sees either Tiff or the other one on his way out, of course he'll take advantage of the chance to follow up with them, now that his mind is more clear.
Well, this place is certainly going to hell. But not everyone is aware of that fact yet, and a newcomer is wandering into the city, quite unaware of the carnage ensuing within.
This lady is dressed in a white button up with slacks and suspenders, and wears a dusty bowler hat over her messy hair. Black wingtip shoes click over the pavement as she meanders down the street, seemingly without a set destination in mind.
What's more eye catching is her right arm, which from a distance seems to be a solid blood red in color. It has a sort of gel-like, liquid quality to it; and it seems to be talking.
"SOMETHING'S WRONG HERE. I CAN SMELL BLOOD," it says, in a harsh bark of a voice that's not hard to hear from a distance. For those familiar with such things, the arm is clearly demonic in nature.
"You are blood. Are you sure you're not smelling yourself?" the woman asks, grinning. Her smile doesn't last for long as the boom of distant weaponry reaches her ears.
"I didn't exactly expect a warm welcome, but you're right, something's off," she mutters, pausing to peer around, scanning the area for any sign of life.
"TOLD HER I SMELLED IT. SHE NEVER LISTENS. EVEN WHEN I'M RIGHT. WHICH IS ALWAYS," her arm continues to mutter.
Well, that was informative. The demon bodies did nothing.
Meanwhile, the other demons, who thought they were hidden, break from the corners and immediately make for any exit they can find... doors, windows, new or old holes in the wall. The archangel can see them. There's no hiding in here.
...That was rather cruel. The entity notes sardonically.
[Havnaught Hotel]
"Aaagh!"
Haabeth's axe bites into an incubus's back, causing him to flicker back into view as he lands on the floor, bleeding profusely through the fresh wound. Even if she doesn't finish him off, he's probably a goner.
"R...run..." he rasps, as the door to the room opens on its own.
---
Blanche will find herself on the far side of a crowded lobby, packed wall-to-wall with frightened demons. Tiff is at the front counter, just to her right, doubled over and squeezing her eyes shut. Her assistant, Petty, waves Blanche over.
"Vigil! Thank gods." The succubus bellhop breathes. "It's a warzone out there. An actual warzone. Someone brought a goddamned tank." She shudders, staring at the barrier. "...Fuck. How long is that going to hold up? How fucked are we?"
"...I can... hold it." Tiff grimaces, pushing herself up. "The Devils themselves couldn't get through. It's... hard, but I'm not letting anybody under my roof get murdered today."
[Madame Fidelity's House Of Delight]
...It might be a touch awkward for Ilpholin when her hair trick turns up no results.
Not that it isn't impressive, mind; her hair certainly does go all throughout the building, and as intended, she violently rips apart every demon she comes across.
...All zero of them.
Somehow, in some such way, the entire House has been emptied of demons, possibly well before Ilpholin even came in here.
"I invented the concept, dear." The tri-devil smirks. "But no matter. I can see the gentle approach doesn't get through to you very well."
The giantess waves her hand, and all along her new network of hair, Ilpholin will feel chaos unfold. The rest of the House can be felt collapsing, breaking apart, and disintegrating into a fine powder... replaced only by ungodly cold, flowing in on her from all directions.
The tri-devil steps aside, gesturing to the direction Ilpholin came in, revealing a sheer wall, the door seeming to have disappeared since Ilpholin came in. She might, at this time, realize that none of the other walls have doors, either... the room she's in is more or less sealed off, apart from the hole she just made in the floor.
"It was arrogant of you to think you could intrude on our domain and we wouldn't do anything about it." The tri-devil shakes her head. "And even more so to do it while carting around such a delightfully tormented soul. Why, you may as well have slathered yourself in honey and walked into a bear den."
"Fortunately for you, we're merciful beings-""(Speak for yourself.)""-and we'll let you leave alive, provided you finish our little game first."
The tri-devil pokes at the wall. "I've decided we won't be needing the rest of the brothel today. We'll just be taking this one room and... seeing how you hold up under pressure.""She means that literally. You can feel it already, can't you? She dropped this room smack into the middle of the Abyssal sea, and you're sinking fast. Eventually, the room's not going to be able to hold up under the water, and when that happens...""There won't be much sense in discussing you in the present tense."
The tri-devil gestures down to the pale Darcy on the floor, who seems to have only recovered enough to sit up. "Not to worry, though. We'll send one of you back to the material plane. But, ah... just one of you. The other is going to be stuck here."
"And that's the game. All we need is some sort of consensus on who lives...""...and who drowns in an endless ocean."
--
The angel will find themselves in... a bit of a bewildering situation. Ilpholin left a clear trail of death for them to follow. The statues outside, the secretary, even a few bloody footprints in the carpet... that stop at a wall at the back of the lobby, with no indication of where she could have gone from there.
Where is she?
[Hotel => Streets]
[Outskirts]
(Gonna have to some back to these, sorry.)
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Ilpholin's hair retracts, shrinking to a more reasonable length as it returns to looking normal. Well normal for her. Her composure doesn't falter as she straightens into a standing position, the possibility of something like this evident from the moment she felt ice. Though the severity of the situation was perhaps underestimated. Her many swirling questions about the limitations of Devils in regards to the mortal world and the people within are forced to the back of her mind. The situation has changed and she needs to adapt in a hurry.
"And it was arrogant of you to think you could use Darcy against me. That you could toy with mortal lives without consequence. That we would stand by and let you. This game of yours... there's not even a choice here. Did you expect me to hesitate?"
Ilpholin jerks her head towards the 'Darcy' on the floor. "Send her back."
The nymph drops into a fighting stance as she glares at the Tri-Devil. "I'll need the extra space in here while I'm whooping your ass."
"A go-getter! I like that." The tri-devil purrs, clapping her hands together. "...Ah, but unfortunately for you, 'consensus' doesn't mean 'I get to make the choice on my own'." The giantess nods at Ilpholin's stabbing victim, who grimaces and pulls her hand away from where her chest wound was moments ago.
"...I hate it, but she's right." The woman admits, shivering against the wall. "We... we need to talk about this, Ilphy. You can't just go running off on your own again. We were supposed to be..." She stops, seeming to realize what she said and dropping her head off to one side. "...I won't let you. I'm not going to let you get trapped forever trying to save me." She grunts and glares at the tri-devil. "...She probably won't even let you fight her anyway. If she really did just drop us off in the middle of an ocean, she can probably pull herself out at any time."
"Oh you poor child." The tri-devil smirks. "We can, but we wouldn't really need to. Neither Ilpholin nor the Abyssal sea have any way of hurting us in any meaningful sense.""I mean, if the catharsis of whaling on this vessel is worth eternal damnation to you, go ahead." The tri-devil winks.
[Hotel => Streets]
As the Havnaught is located near the entrance Zophiel took to get into the neighborhood, he's going to find that most of the trio back is accompanied by a sense of deja vu. The street vendors hawking their wares shutting up when they see him. The gaming table, likewise. The two succubi who are definitely not prostitutes eying him up and down as he goes past, and not in the usual admiring way.
"Burgers! Get your burgers!"
Oh, yeah, that's going to be familiar, too.
"Hey, mister! Buy yourself a-" Mallory stops her pitch and stares at Zophiel in shock as she registers just whom she was soliciting.
The apron-wearing succubus gives a nervous little chuckle, then turns and bolts down the street.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Yet perhaps there was still something to be gained from this.
What are you and what are these creatures? The archangel will send back as it's wings spread out to block two of the exits the demons are trying to get through. They did not act like demons at all and this bothered them.
Outside the other two angels still have orders to destroy any demons escaping and using the senses of the archangel to guide them. Striking them with their wings and spears. Since there's only two of them they will try to kill the demons just as they're moving through so their corpses would end up blocking the exits. That way they might be able to maintain some kind of control over the situation for at least a few minutes.
Meanwhile, the one angel that were send to find Ilpholin find herself confused. She will attempt to use the eyes on her wings, much like the archangel had, to see if she can detect something beyond her normal senses.
"I already know you're not as invincible as you make yourselves out to be," Ilpholin says. They'd already own heaven if they were. "And I have a number of violent theories worth testing."
The nymph glances at the woman on the wall for a moment, before looking back at the Tri-Devil. "And you? Or you you and you. Does your opinion matter at all in this 'consensus' or will you swear to abide by what the two of us decide?"
Haabeth's armored foot steps on the dying demon's neck as she wastes no time. She snatches something from her belt - a curious small tube that unfolds into a short spear or long dart of some kind. She throws it at where she guesses the other demon's lower neck or upper back should be, if he's opening the door.
Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask. I am Inopia, Deviless of Greed. And these people you have busied yourself slaughtering are souls damned to the Lethean Abyss, who have since convinced themselves of the illusion that they have escaped our grasp.
You already know what that means. But as you will not admit it to yourself, I will elucidate for you; these people are, as you would know them, demons in name only. You have been decieved into striking them down and spilt what you now know to be innocent blood. If you continue, you will never again be able to call yourself righteous.
So please, by all means, continue the slaughter. I haven't tasted one of your kind before.
-
The straggling angel finds no trace of illusions around the wall; it's solid, and as real as they come. Ilpholin must have passed through it magically or something, somehow.
The angel will also notice a pair of hellgates underneath this building, both an order of magnitude larger than the one in the casino. They're inert, for the moment, but still ominously radiate darkness in all directions.
[Madame Fidelity's House of Delight]
"I do so love it when the mortals think they're being clever." The tri-devil notes with a chuckle. "But to answer your question, no, you do not need to convince any of us.""That said..."
The tri-devil points down at the floor as inky black liquid, burningly cold to the touch, starts bubbling into the room from the hole in the floor Ilpholin made a few moments ago with her hair.
"...It may behoove you to not waste time trying to find loopholes in the rules. Even if you did, we're right here to patch them."
[Outskirts]
The steets are deserted, and it's hard not to see why; there are corpses of demons on the sidewalk, and sounds of explosions in the distance. There's been a slaughter here, recently, too much so for the police to have shown up or the place to be even slightly cleaned up. It may even still be ongoing.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Rather than looking for loopholes, Ilpholin was looking to close off loopholes, in case the Devils get uppity and decide to vote against whatever was decided upon just to force a dead draw.
That settled, the Phyrexian nymph looks to the other woman. "Demon Darcy, I've been living in Hell ever since Darcy died. There's... never been any hope for me. But for you, there are demons out there who have broken free from the Devil's games. A group of four have escaped the Abyss. Formed a band called Deathkiss. And not only have they pulled themselves free from endlessly owing the Devils, but half of them have made it all the way to heaven and become angels. They reached paradise."
Ilpholin's mouth opens, but her voice doesn't come out. Instead, a recording of Marianne's does instead. "... the opportunity to put my soul through a retrial. And this time, I got a different verdict. So now I'm a free woman. No more Devils leering over my shoulder. No more eating until I burst and still being hungry. No more existential agony over the moral dilemma that is existing as a demon. I've even got a boyfriend now. A serious one. And one that doesn't mind me coming back to the material plane to see my old bandmates and tend to their needs. It's been great."
The nymph's sultrier voice returns. "This is your one in a million chance. Go to the material plane, seek out Deathkiss and get their help. They'll know what to do." Ilpholin appeals to the demonic tendency to selfishly pick oneself first by offering the one thing demons don't have in the Abyss. Hope.
"...Have you completely lost your mind?" The demon wearing Darcy's face demands. "Haven't you been listening to a word I said? I went to actual hell just for a chance to reconcile with you! Now you want me to go running back to the material plane and leave you alone in this godforsaken place? No! I'm not just turning a blind eye while you hurt-"
"Darcy" catches herself and takes a deep breath, leaning against the wall. "...I've been dead a long time, Ilphy." She says quietly. "Everyone else has probably forgotten me by now. But... it sounds like you've been carrying on. You're still slaying demons. You've even found a way to help them while doing it. You've got things going on that are going to need you... I hear you even have a kid now. One of us is going to be missed a lot more than the other... and it isn't me."
"Darcy" lets out a bitter laugh. "Besides, I really don't know they'll actually let me live if I leave. Wouldn't it be just like these demons to drag me back as soon as my foot's out the door just so they get us both?" She shakes her head. "...It's gotta be you, Ilphy. You go. Go and knock a few heads for me."
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
The archangel doesn't reply right away, but the reason for that isn't the devils words. It's the report they're getting from the messenger.
Ilpholin had likely been taken by the same type of gate that existed within this building. What did this mean? They couldn't be sure yet but there were concerns being raised.
And why would you give us this information? Righteousness wasn't really a concern and this creature, which was almost certainly a demon regardless of what the other creatures were, lied. It was just a question of how much it lied.
Meanwhile, the angel continues to investigate these gates. Could they be interacted with in any way or form?
Blanche will find herself on the far side of a crowded lobby, packed wall-to-wall with frightened demons. Tiff is at the front counter, just to her right, doubled over and squeezing her eyes shut. Her assistant, Petty, waves Blanche over.
"Vigil! Thank gods." The succubus bellhop breathes. "It's a warzone out there. An actual warzone. Someone brought a goddamned tank." She shudders, staring at the barrier. "...Fuck. How long is that going to hold up? How fucked are we?"
"...I can... hold it." Tiff grimaces, pushing herself up. "The Devils themselves couldn't get through. It's... hard, but I'm not letting anybody under my roof get murdered today."
"Kurwa" is the first word out of Wenomir's mouth when Blanche relies the situation. "Do you know who's attacking? Or what their numbers are?"
[Havnaught Hotel]
"No, but I think it's big. There's a lot of people sheltering where I am, and I think I just felt mortar fire. I'll send you more details when I have them but be ready to move." Blanche lowers her communicator as she moves towards the two women in a hurried pace.
"I'm here - I've contacted VIGIL, and I'll do anything I can to keep the people here safe. Can you fill me in on anything that's going on here? I saw the people chasing everyone in but that's as far as I know right now." Blanche hesitates, looking through the crowd and then turning to do a quick scan of all the entrances and exits. Was everyone in this crowd a demon? Were there any underground entrances they might need to cover? The question remains in her eyes for now.
"Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not, we never are. But that's not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"
~Welcome to Night Vale
SliiArhem wrote:Arkh I may be slightly delirious but I don't think that would make sense even if I was coherent.
"They're just as likely to drag me back, so that's a moot point," Ilpholin counters.
"But let me put this another way then. The information I just told you... it's top of the top. I know guys like these," Ilpholin momentarily jerks her head towards the Tri-Demon. "They're not unlike the Drow Matriarchs I grew up with. Any information that might subvert their position of power they are going to want to keep boxed up tight. So, whatever they promised you for going through this charade," Ilpholin waves her hand towards 'Darcy's' body. "Is irrelevant now. They're going to torture you until you forget your own name, turn you into red goop, or whatever else they have to do to keep things hush hush among the rank and file."
"This is your only opportunity, so take it and run. Like I said, I need to test some theories with these Devils."
Believe it or not, I've found it's actually quite useful to be honest in situations like this. Now you have no excuses. You can say you don't believe me, but that becomes a failure to recognize credible information on your part, and the fact that it's even been brought up as a possibility demands investigation, for which you are also culpable, even should I turn out to be lying through my teeth. If you refuse to listen to me, you are damned. And more so, you are damned if it is found that I speak the truth... so why should I not speak the truth?
Besides, tricking a soul into destroying itself simply isn't my idea of an appetizer. It's so much more fun when they do it to themselves, all cards on the table, and making the wrong decision regardless.
-
If the angel can get to the gates under the brothel, they might be able to do something with them. And given their nature as gates, clearly they can be opened... somehow. It's just a matter of whether the angel possesses the ability to do it themselves.
[Havnaught Hotel]
Haabeth's spear catches in mid-air, before the outline of the incubus flickers into being around it, having pierced him through the chest. The demon collapses and mouths a wordless plea up at the elf, before apparently realizing that to be pointless. The incubus lurches forward to his fallen partner, reaching out to feebly clasp the dead incubus's hand in his own before nature takes its course.
-
It appears as though, yes, everyone in this crowd is a demon. Granted, they're not all Letheans; a few others have slipped into the neighborhood, resulting in small but significant populations of demons from other planes of origin, which means a few of them were brought into the hotel when it was opened as a refuge.
"That's... that's about as much as we know right now, too." Tiff pants raggedly, squeezing her eyes shut. "Some kind of attempt at a purge, I would guess. Someone's trying to rip up Hell Bend by its roots. Someone well-connected and organized, based on the... the artill-" Tiff clamps one hand over her mouth and another over her stomach, shaking her head.
"Tiff's got a barrier up somehow." Petty continues, pointing to the obvious shimmering blue wall around the hotel. "It goes all the way around the building, and it looks like it's a dome-"
"Sphere." Tiff corrects, removing her hand from her mouth. "Nothing's getting in this hotel, from any angle."
[Madame Fidelity's House of Delight]
"So they can do it to you instead?" "Darcy" protests. "Even if you're right, and they were planning on... mincing or mashing or whatever the hell they call it, if they were planning on doing that to me, what makes you think they can't just as easily do the same to you? And what were you going to do after testing these 'theories' of yours? You think you're going to be able to just pop back into the material plane and tell someone 'pst, they're vulnerable under the left wing'? Staying here is suicide, Ilpholin!"
"Darcy" hugs herself and looks away. "...If you won't take my word as Darcy..." She continues shakily, "...then take my word as a demon, as someone who's already been trapped here for some time. There's nothing you can gain by staying here. I know. I've tried. There's no trick to this, Ilphy. No strategic angle to work, no intrigue, no bullshit. It's a simple question... if only one of us can go back, who should it be?" She shakes her head. "We both know it's not me. So why are you fighting me on this? Do you want us both to drown?"
Right as she says this, the walls let out a groan as more black water bubbles up from the hole in the floor, now pooling up to cover the soles of their feet. "Darcy" doesn't seem bothered beyond the implications of the room filling up.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
"Well well, dead demons. You were right to be scared," murmurs the well dressed woman as she picks her way through the carnage, curling her lip as she steps around one of the corpses.
"I'm not scared," growls her arm, writhing out into a twisted red tentacle, "Even if something's wrong I"m not passing up a buffet."
The end of the tendril forms a razor sharp point, and it lashes out, plunging into one of the dead demons and draining any remaining blood in a matter of moments.
"Gross." The woman continues walking, ignoring her arm as it snakes here and there behind her, sipping from the plentiful bodies. The two of them head deeper into the city, towards the source of the explosions, making no effort to hide their approach.
There has to be better ways to get your feet wet fighting demons.
Ilpholin frowns and steps towards 'Darcy', putting a firm hand on her shoulder and waiting until eye contact to speak. Where arguments appear to have failed, perhaps the steel in her own voice and conviction in her eyes may offer sway.
"Darcy" stands there a moment, Ilpholin's hands on her shoulders, before surging forward and pulling her into a familiarly-tight hug.
"...Please be careful." Darcy whispers, giving Ilpholin a kiss on the forehead.
After that, she pulls back and takes a shaky breath. "...Take me back." She says finally.
"That sounds like consensus to me.""Quite.""Agreed." The tri-devil raises her hand theatrically and snaps her fingers.
The walls of the room burst, flooding the small chamber before it gives way entirely, leaving Ilpholin surrounded on all sides by impenetrably-dark, searingly-cold water. The resulting currents will throw her around like a tiny metal doll, such that when she comes to rest again, it won't be clear which direction is up. Even at this depth, the water squeezes her like a massive hand, threatening to reduce her into crushed components.
There's no sign of "Darcy" or the tri-devil anywhere. Ilpholin is simply alone. Alone and slowly being claimed by the Abyssal sea.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Opening and closing gates was generally a job for another court whose support they didn't have here. So the angel is stuck summoning halo-eyes to survey the area for any more signs of the nymph. Unable to follow wherever she seems to have gone.
Which was yet another reminder of how shabby this whole operation was. Leave it to a mortal to just charge in without any real intelligence or planning.
-
Which was the issue, wasn't it? One that could be solved by sparing some of these false demons. Your rants is only showing your ignorance of our kind, yokai. The archangel replies yet does issue a mental order to start capturing the escaping 'demons' rather than killing them. And that was all you wanted with this exchange?
If one of the angels outside do manage to capture one of the fleeing demons, likely grabbing them using her wings, she will fly up 30 feet up in the air using a secondary pair of wings for an interrogation. "What do you know about the portals? What purpose do they have?" She inquires, using the archangels voice.
"Well well, dead demons. You were right to be scared," murmurs the well dressed woman as she picks her way through the carnage, curling her lip as she steps around one of the corpses.
"I'm not scared," growls her arm, writhing out into a twisted red tentacle, "Even if something's wrong I"m not passing up a buffet."
The end of the tendril forms a razor sharp point, and it lashes out, plunging into one of the dead demons and draining any remaining blood in a matter of moments.
"Gross." The woman continues walking, ignoring her arm as it snakes here and there behind her, sipping from the plentiful bodies. The two of them head deeper into the city, towards the source of the explosions, making no effort to hide their approach.
Outskirts
"HALT!" A booming voice suddenly cries out from above.
A trio of glowing figures can be seen flying high above the woman. Appearing strangely symmetrical to one another."BE AFRAID AND TURN AWAY FROM THIS FOUL PLACE! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU HERE!"
Of course it's not all I wanted. But it is a necessary first step. Before we are finished, I will have six angels bound for my larder. Each and every one of you will fall, and I will be waiting, maw wide open.
But more on that later. For now, I believe you have business to attend to.
One of the angels catching one of the demons, once a sincere effort is made, is essentially a non-issue; one is a powerful supernatural being on a holy mission and imbued with the powers to see it through, and the other is a frightened person who happens to have wings.
No contest.
The angel will find themselves holding a panicking succbus in a Victorian dress, who serendipitily happens to have a crippling fear of heights. Granted, that means she has to be shaken a couple of times before she's lucid enough to answer.
And the answer itself isn't especially helpful.
"Gate? W-... what gate?!" The succubus squeels. "I don't know anything about any gates! Please, just let me go! I was supposed to be leaving today! I'm not going to hurt anyone, I promise, please..."
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
As the Havnaught is located near the entrance Zophiel took to get into the neighborhood, he's going to find that most of the trio back is accompanied by a sense of deja vu. The street vendors hawking their wares shutting up when they see him. The gaming table, likewise. The two succubi who are definitely not prostitutes eying him up and down as he goes past, and not in the usual admiring way.
"Burgers! Get your burgers!"
Oh, yeah, that's going to be familiar, too.
"Hey, mister! Buy yourself a-" Mallory stops her pitch and stares at Zophiel in shock as she registers just whom she was soliciting.
The apron-wearing succubus gives a nervous little chuckle, then turns and bolts down the street.
[Streets]
Of course, Zophiel doesn't pay any mind to the others or how they see him. As long as they're not actively hurting anyone, and as long as they're not getting in his way, then they don't have anything to do with him.
And, because he ran into Mallory earlier than he was expecting (for some reason, he was expecting her to still be hanging around that house doing...who-knows-what), he's suddenly glad that he rested up. If he hadn't spent time resting, there's no way he could have caught up to her as she ran.
Zophiel gives a whistle (just in case Caramel is around) and starts running after Mallory.
There's the sound of chains.
As soon as the sound resonates, black threads come out of each of the paladin's right hand fingertips and braids itself into a black rope, and then ties itself into a lasso.
The rope, in spite of actually being rope, makes the sound of chains as it moves.
Once the lasso is fully-formed, Zophiel holds the coil of rope and spins the lasso to his side, and then throws it at the fleeing Mallory, trying to catch her.
Said rope, by the way, has the notably unique property that instead of its strength being based on its material properties, its strength is instead proportional to the willpower of the person it wraps around. It's pretty interesting rope, actually.
A weak-willed person or someone who has given up can easily snap it like a piece of thread.
"HALT!" A booming voice suddenly cries out from above.
A trio of glowing figures can be seen flying high above the woman. Appearing strangely symmetrical to one another."BE AFRAID AND TURN AWAY FROM THIS FOUL PLACE! THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU HERE!"
The woman looks up at the celestial beings, shading her eyes against the glare. She completely ignores their warning, instead choosing to chastise them. "You've gotta be angels, right? Are you responsible for all these dead people? You know killing is wrong, right?"
Her bloody arm snaps back from its tentacle form, fingers spreading as a toothy mouth appears in the center. "Yeah, us demons are people too, so you can piss off with the self righteous crap!"
"You maybe shouldn't have said 'us', Kraujo," mutters the woman, although she continues to stand her ground.
Haabeth retrieves her dart, then drags the bodies back into the room. Someone likely heard this commotion, so she can't be too careful. She'll try to find a key, if possible, to lock it from the outside before setting off to the right and trying to find one or both of two things: a hiding place or a plan of the building. As she does so, she sends back to Mr. Squiggles:
understood, will look for source
Easier said than done, mind you. And if she can find the source it's likely to be heavily guarded - or fully capable of defending itself, if it's one or more demons doing it.
"I'll get a team ready," is Wenomir's answer before Blanche hangs up.
Hmph. That was it then, huh? No slow walking 'Darcy' out just to rub it into Ilpholin's face how all the possible exits are gone now and she gave up her one and only chance. No taunting from the Tri-Devil about how wrong and stupid Ilpholin's choice was. No letting her 'futilely' test her different theories on how to harm a Devil. A surprising turn of wisdom that last part.
Should the nymph still blurb out underwater something cool sounding about how pressure creates diamonds? Kick and struggle and swim for some unknown surface? Or just accept her fate? There it was after all. The void. The emptiness.
The guilt.
Ilpholin stares at it for just a moment before giving it the one fingered salute as her body suddenly shimmers blue and disappears.
Mallory lands flat on her back, the rope wrapped tightly around her chest, both arms and one of her wings. Zophiel, being much heavier than her (probably) provides enough of an anchor to stop her in her tracks, leading to the resulting slapstick.
"Let me go! Let me go, you stupid-" Mallory begins, struggling against the ropes, before stopping just as abruptly and breaking out into sobbing. "Please... please, I didn't mean it, I didn't want to hurt you, I swear, she made me... please don't kill me..."
[Madame Fidelity's House of Delight]
...And you're letting her do that? I'm surprised at you, Dolor. I would have thought for sure you would take issue with Icarus undercutting the significance of her decision.
Hardly. Icarus was clearly her plan the whole time. She's used it to cheat death before. That she would attempt it on us was a given.
So? You still could have stopped her. Blocked the signal, maybe, or crushed the necessary components into paste. Really impressed her with the fact that this is our domain and nothing happens here without our say-so.
Counterproductive, that. We know the score no matter what she does now. She's a woman of Wrath. And that flavor will marinate best for as long as she believes the lie that she is in control and doing the right thing. Taking either of those from her now might prompt her to reconsider her position.
Besides, neither of you stopped her.
...Someone's just salty he didn't see it coming.
You just can't let me have this, can you?
Foreplay later, people. We still have loose ends to tie.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
It appears as though, yes, everyone in this crowd is a demon. Granted, they're not all Letheans; a few others have slipped into the neighborhood, resulting in small but significant populations of demons from other planes of origin, which means a few of them were brought into the hotel when it was opened as a refuge.
"That's... that's about as much as we know right now, too." Tiff pants raggedly, squeezing her eyes shut. "Some kind of attempt at a purge, I would guess. Someone's trying to rip up Hell Bend by its roots. Someone well-connected and organized, based on the... the artill-" Tiff clamps one hand over her mouth and another over her stomach, shaking her head.
"Tiff's got a barrier up somehow." Petty continues, pointing to the obvious shimmering blue wall around the hotel. "It goes all the way around the building, and it looks like it's a dome-"
"Sphere." Tiff corrects, removing her hand from her mouth. "Nothing's getting in this hotel, from any angle."
[Havnaught Hotel]
Good, probably not likely she'll have to anticipate a backstab from the crowd. Not that she can rule it out - anything can happen in this kind of chaos, and she doesn't know if she can rule out anything like shapeshifting. "I have a couple suspicions, but nothing that gives me any idea of how widespread our enemy is." Ilpholin was the obvious one, but how the hell would she have this many actual combatants organized?
"Is there anything we can do for you to help you sustain the barrier? Help you keep comfortable? And do we have anyone else here able to fight if the worst happens?" Blanche scans the room again. There's a lot of furniture here. Surely there's something they can use to build barricades and defenses if the worst happens.
"Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not, we never are. But that's not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?"
~Welcome to Night Vale
SliiArhem wrote:Arkh I may be slightly delirious but I don't think that would make sense even if I was coherent.
