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Post by Zypheron on Sept 10, 2012 19:29:13 GMT -6
Zypheron all but grinds his teeth together, as Bardiel rants. He waits until the fallen begins reaching forward to turn away, winding his way slowly between the soul-stained racks and molds that make up his work shop.
"The Abyss is below all parts of hell, eating away at reality and anything else stupid enough to get close to it. The ancients used to execute people by tossing them into the holes it made. Even Lucifer used them for that. I suppose that makes it even more fitting she's trapped there." The devil takes a moment to enjoy the idea, his tail twitching like a satisfied cat's.
He pushes aside another curtain concealing a small staircase. The room below is a crumbling temple with a swirling pool of darkness taking up a great deal of the floor. Pale wavering lights cast long shadows around the room.
"This, Fallen, is an Abyssal Well..." The violet devil begins unwinding a long, long chain from the space between the lights, pacing around the pool as he goes.
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Bardiel
Bourgeois
Outlands Wanderer
Posts: 147
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Post by Bardiel on Sept 11, 2012 1:56:47 GMT -6
As Bardiel follows close behind the devil he swings about to marvel at the weathered ruins lying beneath the soul furnace. The climb down has left him out of breath and his arms hang by his sides as if they were weighed down with stone.
A wisp of ghostly light caresses his eyes and for a moment the fallen can sense something looming up behind him. A creature was there, something that has been trapped down here in the darkness, he’s sure, it’s skin bleached by isolation, coiling tighter and tighter in on itself till its monstrous bones are grinding away at the base of this ancient maze he now found himself in, the floor worn thin by the thrashings of that nameless terror that was now silently rising up to strike. There. He could see where it had dug through the foundations, its great talons tearing through the stone with a nameless hate.
Bardiel spun around, scattering feathers, ready to escape back the way he came, away from the dead temple. But it was there… couching in the light of the doorway, behind him, hiding in his shadow that crept back into the abyssal well.
He turns to Zypheron, completely calm but for the constricting of his pupils.“Yeah, yeah. Hey! How about we build a pool in your basement instead? I’m sure that’d cheer you up just as much as thinking of ways to spite a child queen.”
The fallen clears his throat with a gravely sound before giving a fair impersonation of the devils own voice “Oh, what a dreary day it’s been smelting all these souls. I know! I’ll just go for a quick dip in my basement pool! Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
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Post by Zypheron on Sept 16, 2012 18:33:34 GMT -6
Zypheron just turns and looks at Bardiel for a long moment before going back to unwinding the chain.
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Bardiel
Bourgeois
Outlands Wanderer
Posts: 147
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Post by Bardiel on Sept 19, 2012 6:02:43 GMT -6
The fallen rubs his neck with a nervous hand, letting the awful silence of that place sink slowly in.
“So this is really it,” he crosses over to Zypheron, walking around the well as if in a dream. It was like he’d never reach the violet devil and then, suddenly he was at his side. “I feel a bit…” Bardiel looks down at one of his hands which in the wavering light seems to suddenly flicker in and out of existence “… floaty...”
As the chain continues to unwind, the links softly rattling, Bardiel begins to make out the voices of all those who had come this way before him, never to return. Join Us they sang. “Well alright,” he promised.
Grabbing his own chain he gives it a yank, feeling it snap taunt as it catches on the soul of Lucifer’s heir. He smiles at Zypheron, but he’s looking beyond the devil at things only he can see “Ready when you are sweetheart.”
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Post by Zypheron on Sept 30, 2012 23:37:22 GMT -6
Zypheron murmurs something in his Devilish watching Bardiel.
"Fallen... I should think you'd want to tether yourself before jumping in. But that is, I suppose, up to you." Smirking coldly he offers Bardiel the chain. "I'm not certain it will work at all, given your light grip on reality."
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Bardiel
Bourgeois
Outlands Wanderer
Posts: 147
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Post by Bardiel on Oct 1, 2012 2:08:54 GMT -6
Bardiel takes the offered chain with a sharp twist so that the links whipped tightly around his forearm. He spins on his toes away from Zypheron humming nonsensically, the chain constricting around his body, pinning his arms to his sides.
“…This reality anyway.” The fallen tries to walk back, closer to the devil, but the chain has gotten caught between his legs and Bardiel stumbles closer to the edge of the pit forcing him to look down.
It felt light, empty and cold. That darkness beckoned, promising a sweet release. It was like watching the sun set on creation, whose light was giving way gently to a dark realm of dreams and sleep. That void would wrap him up and lift the weight from his chest.
The black was indescribable, perfect. So empty was its colour that the darkness appeared to be playing tricks with his eyes. It was as if the mind were struggling to conceptualize the not reality that its flawed senses failed to interpret. It was black nothing in its totality, the end of torment, the end of all things. It was simply ‘end’.
He looks slowly up at Zypheron through a haze of feathery hair. “What is reality anyway?” The fallen angel smiles and turning his head back towards the Abyss, asks. “Just words on a page?”
Like a page of paper drinking in the stain of black ink, a feeling of awe settled itself into Bardiel’s soul. An implacable sense of peace stole over him. Almost unconsciously he slowly raises a hand to touch the flawless, featureless surface of infinity, fighting against the restraint of the chain. As his hand draws closer toward the border it appears as if his fingers stretch and twist, coiling like smoke rising into that dark horizon.
A phosphorescent pain explodes throughout the entirety of Bardiel’s being. His flesh is burning, cinders flare to life as his wings spasm, beating uncontrollably in every direction. The crucifix around his neck is a baleful star, turning black iron into molten blood as it burns through the Fallen’s breastplate. He feels like something within his core is about to snap as he’s torn between the inescapable pull of the Abyss and the fiery choke chain of the crucifix. He feels like he’s being ripped in half, that surely his mangled soul is about to break.
But then, in spite of the sun burning against his chest, ice crawls its way through his veins with razor claws and instead of breaking, something bends. And he’s falling again.
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Post by Admin on Oct 27, 2012 20:00:25 GMT -6
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