MHA #18; Saturday Evening [10/07].

[chef_chocobro]

Even though it seemed like this week had provided copious examples of attempts to the contrary, it turned out that Ignis actually couldn't spend all his spare time with Liliana and would, in fact, spend time with other people, too. Well, with the other person he spent all of his spare time with. He certainly wouldn't want to overstay his welcome, and they were both clearly the sort of people who had lives beyond the blissful bubble of each other's company that they'd come to discover and had other things to do that day...

...Well, it seemed Liliana did, anyway. Ignis...had a make-up training session to attend to to appease his roommate, after which there was to be take-out because he was quite frankly a little exhausted and wanted to unwind a little with food made by someone else for a change and a glass of wine. And to at least make a marginal attempt to distract himself from wanting to be somewhere else and in different company again already.

No offense, of course, to Gladio.

"So," said Gladio from the couch, no doubt already leaving dusting of rice from his take-out container around where he sat, "what should I put on? Cooking shows to make you mad, or sports shows to make me mad?"

Okay, he took that back. Some offense to Gladio, after all.

[[ for those who know who they are and with some helpful little morsels of OCD like the rice Iggy'll find in the couch cushions later; CW for someone almost fucking dying ]]

Comments

The First Interruption.

[chef_chocobro]

In which a nice quiet Saturday evening becomes very much not so much anymore with some unexpected visitors.

Re: The First Interruption.

[deathsmajesty]

Together, Marc and Liliana had made their slow and painful way to Malchanceux Harris Apartments, all the way up to the sixth floor (although now Liliana had discovered elevators and that she loved them) and then to apartment 18. Part of Liliana wanted nothing more than vanish into her home, where she could be weak and vulnerable without fear, but her manor was so far and she knew she needed more help than what her steward could provide. And so she'd made the terrifying decision to trust, to believe, and let Marc bring her somewhere she could be taken care of.

A man's voice in her head, darkly amused. *Will you, Lili-flower? Are you sure? They don't have to harm you, they can just choose not to help...*

"Shut up," she mumbled. "Not listening."

His voice was replaced by dozens more, hundreds maybe. *...You carry the seed of destruction...shall rain...root of evil...annihilation...* Liliana couldn't muster up the necessary strength to tell all those voices to hush, so she just moaned, putting her hands over her ears as if that might help.

This was not the victory celebration she had planned.

Re: The First Interruption.

[hasaknightjob]

Luckily Marc wasn't the kind of guy who thought it was overly weird to spend an evening covered in somebody else's blood while you appeared to have a conversation with yourself.

Even so, Marc knew this wasn't the kind of thing Liliana should be alone with. Especially since she and consciousness didn't seem to be besties at the moment. So he wasn't exactly going to leave her on the floor outside the door and assume it would work out all right.

He knocked. Firm enough that if anybody was inside they'd probably have a fair idea that this wasn't someone who got lost trying to deliver Chinese.

Re: The First Interruption.

[deathsmajesty]

Hey now. This was her own blood, thank you very much! It had just had the audacity to fall out while she'd been killing somebody else.

Now then, if you looked closely, these were somebody else's ashes she was covered in, but they were harder to notice what with all the blood.

Also she was helping. She also knocked, where her 'knock' was more 'raise an exhausted fist and let it thump against the door and then sag against the guy that had basically become your only support structure, since your body was currently on strike.'

Icon chosen for irony.

Re: The First Interruption.

[sword_chocobro]

A brief moment of confusion passed at the sound of the knock hitting the door; Gladio hadn't heard that light second thump, but Ignis certainly had, and he could swear that something in the air had shifted, and, though it was faint, easily just a trick of his mind, he could swear he could smell a touch of blood in it. The firmness of that knock, though, meant Gladio was getting up off the couch without any hesitation or even conversation about it to go see who it was and what they might want.

"Marc?" That was hardly helping with the confusion, although that was....well, not alleviated, but shifted, slightly, when he saw who was with him. "Lilian--"

It was like a switch shifted in his brain, muscles tensing and attention alert as he stepped back from the door, opening it wide to usher them in as he called out over his shoulder, "Specs! You're going to want to get over--"

Gladio realized that Ignis had already joined him. There was a moment, when the door first opened, and that wave of that scent of blood seemed to crash into the apartment and invade his senses, but as soon as he heard Liliana's name leave Gladio's lips, he was on his feet and rushing over, knocking his thigh into the side of the couch in his haste, but that hardly mattered.

"--here," Gladio concluded, needlessly.

"What is it?" Ignis demanded, trying desperately to get a sense of the scene, but all he could do was smell blood. "What's going on?"

Re: The First Interruption.

[deathsmajesty]

With the door opening, Liliana briefly forget everything about her current situation, snapped to attention, pulling herself upright, presenting herself as Liliana Vess, Death Wielder, Defiant Necromancer, Blight of Angels and newly-christened Killer of Kothophed.

"I--" she said, and swayed reaching out to clutch whoever was closest as the world went swimmy. And she certainly didn't look like Liliana - exhausted, soaked with blood, the scars of her contracts still visibly etched onto her skin, red and sullen looking. She was still pale, colder even than her usual below-normal body temperature, and even holding onto someone, she swayed with exhaustion and the effort of staying even this much upright. "--am in need of some assistance," she admitted softly. Like it hurt to say. "If you would...be so kind."

The Second Interruption.

[chef_chocobro]

And then somehow things manage to get somehow both better and worse, all at once!

Re: The Second Interruption.

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis' confidence was starting to wane, faltering just like whatever faint heartbeat still remained inside of Liliana's body. He had hoped that the water used to gently clean the blood from her skin would have helped to warm her, but she still remained cold, colder than he'd ever felt her before. He was running out of options, running out of ideas, short of just keeping her aware and keeping her hanging on. And she was stubborn, he knew she'd hold on with everything she had, but he was beginning to doubt whether that was still enough, and whether he should simply defy her reservations about the clinic and take her anyway. In her current state, between himself and Gladio? The odds weren't in her favor. She'd never forgive him for it, but, well....it wouldn't even be the most drastic thing he'd ever sacrificed for the life of someone he...

Re: The Second Interruption.

[deathsmajesty]

*He's thinking about it. You can see it in the way he looks at you. Looks at his friend. He's thinking about it.*

"Shut up," Liliana whispered. "Just shut up."

*There's an easy way to solve both problems. Just reach out. Pull. The poor besotted fool will probably be grateful. Tragically loyal, remember? Do it, Liliana. Heal yourself. You don't even have to take it all...*

Liliana bit her lip, fists clenching. She didn't trust herself to stop. Not right now.

*This is pathetic, Liliana.* His voice was like a whipcrack. *You're the Mistress of Death. You defy it, you don't bow to it. And what, now you're going to dance around it because of some stupid schoolgirl crush? I'm disappointed.*

"Just stop it," she murmured. "Get away from me."

*Or have you forgotten, my Lili, what waits for you in the Void. Who waits for you. Is that it then? Have you finally decided it's time to face what you've done?*

"No."

Re: The Second Interruption.

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis could feel Liliana fighting, could feel her struggling against...everything, more than likely, and despite those words that he misconstrued to be directed at him in some sort of understandable delirium, he only held her tighter. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured back. "I'm right here, I'm going to stay here, until you--"

"Iggy," Gladio tried to softly interject, "I really think--"

"No," Ignis breathed out harshly. "Not yet. Just...go to the medicine cabinet. Check if there's anything...anything at all...that might help. Google it, or something. Just...there's got to be something else we can do..."

"Yeah," Gladio murmured, fully aware that Ignis could hear him, but he dutifully went to disappear into the bathroom, "it's called 'medical professionals...."

Re: The Second Interruption.

[deathsmajesty]

For all her muttering about 'shut up' and 'go away', Liliana didn't seem to be in a rush to actually get away from Ignis, leaning against him, head lolling on his shoulder, once again doing an excellent impression of a broken doll. "Trees," she muttered. "Trees. Plants of any kind. Small creatures?"

Full sentences are for suckers.

She sighed. "Wasn't s'posed to be like this. Happy. Perfect day." She laced their fingers together; hers remain frigid.

Re: The Second Interruption.

[stykera]

Stark had been downstairs sulking alone in his apartment when he'd been overcome by a sense of something being wrong. Something nearby needed to be dealt with. Someone nearby needed help.

This didn't happen often here. It had been some time. Not since that time the days kept repeating and people kept dying.

So he'd gone upstairs since the feeling was coming from there. He found the door to #18 open and stepped inside, staying just past the threshold.

"Can I help?"

Re: The Second Interruption.

[deathsmajesty]

Liliana usually felt like death. She embraced it long ago, took it into her soul, stitched it with her Planeswalker spark, woven it into every shred of magical power within her. Death already cast a very long shadow over her.

And now it was closer still, practically breathing down her neck. The call of the Void was loud around her, almost deafening.

She startled when Stark's voice came in through the doorway, tensed a moment like she might flee, and then relaxed when she recognized Stark's voice and shrugs, a little weakly.

Re: The Second Interruption.

[chef_chocobro]

"Stark?" Ignis' attention shifted from where he was trying very hard not to practically crush Liliana's poor hand from holding it so tightly, unable to keep a flood of relief out of his voice. "Yes. Please. If you think you can..."

Conveniently, Gladio was then returning from the bathroom, having...briefly considered the small succulent on the window sill and then firmly dismissed it, and then blinked a little to see Stark standing there.

"Hey, look," he said. "A medical professional."

Sort of. He worked at the clinic, that counted.

Re: The Second Interruption.

[stykera]

"I can help," Stark said softly. He was already moving to kneel at Liliana's side. She felt like death and she felt like she was dying and this was what he was for.

"What happened?" he asked as he unbuckled the strap at his neck and leaned over her. "What did this?"

...Inside Stark's Mind

[deathsmajesty]

While Liliana was screaming in her mind, held captive by her own failing body, the entities that were currently using it as a time share had no such limitations and they threw themselves into the fray.

*...swallowed up...annihilation...You carry the seed of destruction...* The voices of thousand thousand spirits rush towards him on wings of sharpened memories and dragging him into them. There was a flash of an image, Liliana bound in the embrace of a horrific creature, with wings and a lower body of a snake. He dragged his claws over Liliana's skin while she writhed in agony, tracing whorls and lines in precise and deliberate patterns, crooning and laughing all the while.

Just a flash and then it was gone, and the whispering voices were back, spinning Stark round and round into darkness. And when the light returned, he stood in a tomb made of worked stone, with lit torches ringing the vast hall. Alcoves were carved in regular intervals, each with a gigantic, tusked skeleton in them, standing upright. Directly in front of Stark stood a massive humanoid creature, almost ten feet tall, and correspondingly wide and heavy. Its - his - arms dangled down, knuckles brushing the ground at his feet, and tusks jutted from either side of his head. An ogre.

Re: ...Inside Stark's Mind

[stykera]

Usually, Stark got glimpses of things from those whose deaths he attended to. Flashes of memories. Pieces of them to carry with him for the rest of his days. That was what it meant to be a Stykera. You helped them cross over to the other side and they left a part of themselves behind within you.

Being so firmly within memories, if that's what this was, wasn't the natural order of these things. This felt too strong. This felt too strange.

He would have stumbled back, if he could, but he was kneeling and he was busy.

Re: ...Inside Stark's Mind

[ghostsofthepast]

Maybe, as an idea, he could be less busy? That seemed like it would be super good for everybody.

"I am of the Onakke," he said, his voice so deep that it was heard as much as felt, a vibration in the bones. He held up a shield large enough to cover his chest, made of some black metal and decorated with bones. More bones formed a necklace around his thick throat and hung at his waist. "Guardian of the dead. Here to stop you. You must stop. You must close the door. You may not have the vessel."

Whispers started, hundreds of voices rising up, a loud susurration that made eyes water and jaws clench. "...nurtured the root...strong enough...the vessel..." they whispered. "...hallowed earth...the void's first breath..."

The whispers did not stop, just got louder and more insistent until they were all that he could hear, a wave of "the vessel...the vessel is ours...the vessel...shut the door...SHUT THE DOOR...SHUT THE DOOR" that tried to swallow him, that crested and broke--

And when it did, they shifted, displaced by the hubbub of an outdoor marketplace situated in a deep green jungle. As darkness settled over the jungle, Onakke merchants and artificers were packing up their goods and starting to disperse. Stark saw spectacular artistry in every booth and cart, the work of artisans whose awkward size belied their incredible talent. Delicate handiwork, from chainmail so finely knitted it looked like satin to jewelry that gave the impression of never ending fractals to woven images that looked ready to step off the fabric and into the real world.

For a moment, all was peaceful and quiet. But that moment didn't last. Ogres paused, looked around, cocked their heads to listen. Then Stark heard it, too, a low roar in the distance, but growing louder with each second. Across the square, he saw one ogre running wild-eyed out of the jungle, shouting words he couldn't make out as those nearest to her dropped their goods and launched into a mad scramble.

The running ogre fell on her face, but her body sloshed forward as if melted, turning into a black smear on the ground around a scattering of bones. And around her roiled a purplish cloud that washed over the remains and surged onward, extending new tendrils ahead of it as though it were dragging itself along the ground.

And every ogre it touched suffered the same deliquescent fate. A touch. Screams of agony. And then they hit the ground, liquefying into puddles of black goo.

It was over in minutes. In just minutes, the marketplace was gone, the roiling fog covering its Onakke victims, the stately buildings, swallowing the hubbub of life and leaving only the horror of death.

And the whispers returned. "...swallowed up...annihilation..."

And the scene changed again.

The Aftermath.

[chef_chocobro]

When the dust settles and, hopefully, the bloodstains haven't set entirely.

Re: The Aftermath.

[deathsmajesty]

With neither Gladio nor a target for her fury to keep her upright, Liliana had only a few minutes of energy left to make it to the couch to sit down, rather than falling over. "This was a mistake," she said softly. "I shouldn't have come. I should have followed my instincts and gone to my manor. I was a fool."

*...the vessel returns...harbinger...carrying destruction...*

*BE SILENT!*

Mercifully, the voices ceased.

Re: The Aftermath.

[chef_chocobro]

Confused and bewildered and still with his heart racing from everything that had just occurred, Ignis heard Liliana moving again, speaking again, in more than just ragged gasps and groans, and his relief was so strong that he wasn't sure he could trust his legs to support him if he got up. But he risked it, he chanced it, pushing himself up so that he could follow her over toward where she sat on the couch and join her, reaching for her hands, her wrists, when he sat.

He wanted to feel whether her hands were still so unbearably cold, he wanted to feel the stronger heartbeat of her pulse, needing the confirmation that it was over, she was better, she'd made it through.

And just one slightly pleading question: "What happened, Liliana?"

Re: The Aftermath.

[deathsmajesty]

She was still so very cold. And her pulse was no longer as thready or irregular, but it was much weaker than it should be, her breathing faster and shallower. But compared to how frail she'd been when he'd first held it, it was a practically a miracle.

She was weak and vulnerable, but she did not feel like she would expire in his arms.

A long pause while she brooded over her answer. What she'd say. How much she would say. Even how she would say it.

"I killed a demon tonight and nearly died for it," she said, voice hard. "Because I am a fool."

He could feel her trembling where she sat and she did not lean into him for whatever comfort he could offer.

But she didn't take her hands away from his, either.

Re: The Aftermath.

[chef_chocobro]

And something was telling Ignis that this encounter went a but beyond the Iron and Red Giants he was used to.

He was quiet, silent, for a good, long stretch of a moment, holding her hands still, but gently rubbing them with his own, so she could feel their warmth, so he could just remind her that they were there.

He was still holding them when he stood up again. "Come on," he said. "We should get you out of those clothes. I'll draw you a bath. Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat."

The OOC.

[chef_chocobro]

Because we can't be having the world ending quite yet.

Re: The OOC.

[deathsmajesty]

Of course not! Lily still has three other demons (and a surprise dragon!) to go!