#【 ♨ . CW ADDICTION 】

[infernalapparatus]

[ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧 ] : sender is lifting captured receiver's chin up. / @pleasureprince

【 HORROR 】 - @pleasureprince

SHE WAS ZARIEL ' S PET . Karlach, the Fury of Avernus, had made her name known across the Hells. It was not by her own intentions that this had occurred - but merely by her renown. Devils all across the level of Avernus knew that she was a legendary warrior, able to turn the tides of battles against invading demons. Slaughtering hordes all by her lonesome, and known to have no mercy for any creature - demon, devil, or otherwise. She spilled the blood of countless foes, fodder and generals alike. Alone, with only her greataxe and her fury, did she decimate armies and dismantle leadership.

That was precisely the reason that word of her conquests as Zariel's secret weapon had spread all over the Abyss. Demons who lived to tell the tale reported of her presence, which only grew stronger. Tales of legend and woe, and the pure carnage that she left behind. Such talk reached the perceptive ears of Graz'zt - who, through his way of vast power and long reach, had found just the place she was kept. LIKE AN ANIMAL IN A CAGE . Zariel kept her cloistered away in a prison cleverly disguised as a luxurious room, to keep her happy, satiated. Even if Karlach was none of those things. The woman wanted, more than anything, was to escape from this place. To return home. Her home.

But she couldn't find any way out. She was biding her time, and for a while, had been on the rebellious streak. Doing all she could to escape Zariel - but the Archduke had caught on. There was one thing she could do to not only power Karlach, driving her into these vicious blood frenzies, but trap her even further. IT WAS THAT DAY , WHEN ZARIEL FORCED THOSE SOUL COINS INTO HER ENGINE AGAINST HER WILL . They powered her up - but at the cost of her humanity. They chipped away at her psyche, driving her deeper and deeper into this addiction, this chase of power, this desperation to escape.

She was withdrawing hard when Graz'zt got a hold of her. This legendary soldier of Zariel, who looked ragged and angry. She snaps at him when his hand gazes against her chin, forcing her head up, and her eyes burn with anger. " Don't you fucking touch me. " The tiefling snaps, tail lashing behind her with anger - far too angry to attempt dismantling the binds that hold her captive before him. She doesn't recognize him immediately - not even from his obsidian skin, or his wretched green eyes that glow like the infernal engine in her chest. Obviously, because she spits in his face. " If you came here to kill me - THEN FUCKING DO IT . "

[infernalapparatus]

AN INFERNAL HEART WAS READY TO BURST AN INFERNAL GASKET . She was fuming, filled with anger - yet seeing Bethanne collapse like that? Nothing hurt her heart more. The paladin was angry, so fucking angry - but more than that? She was broken. That was a look that Karlach had recognized all too well. A broken woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders - one who maybe thought she was invincible at one point... Or maybe she never felt like that at all. Her mind was desperately making connections that her engine wanted to tear to pieces. Karlach acted on emotion, she acted with her heart - even if it no longer beat in the home of her ribs. For not having a heart, she certainly seemed to have the most of it. Because while she was angry, while she was coiled like an angry minotaur ready to barrel forward and crash through the barricades that the Chosen was hastily constructing. But it took a moment of looking, just a beat of her mechanical whirring and clanking to pause - for her to see that those carefully crafted walls were crumbling. Falling off brick by brick, as she spills her guts.

THAT WAS PROBABLY GROSSLY REMINISCENT OF SAID BLADE DISEMBOWELING HER .

Karlach doesn't know what to say - she's furious. Furious that Beth feels the need to go down this path - but suddenly realizes - THIS WASN ' T A CHOICE . Bethanne didn't choose this. She took this oath because she had no other choice. The gods were fucking petty. It tore at her insides seeing that woman like this, in a full breakdown. Fully devastated by things that were not in her control, that would never be in her control. Every day she survived, it was because a deity let her.

. . . AND THAT WAS A MISERABLE FUCKING EXISTENCE . Karlach knew a thing or two about that.

She followed the warrior, whether Beth wanted her to or not, and she slowly fell to her knees in front of the creature. Smoke deposited in wispier strands from her vents as her anger faded, into something far more subdued. Her tail limply sprawls across the ground, defeated, and she draws in a breath for a beat. She holds it, and when it releases, her shoulders drop. She didn't understand exactly how Beth felt - she doesn't think she ever could. But Karlach didn't fall in with the rest of mortalkind. She was special - something Gortash always told her. Something Zariel treasured her for. SHE WAS SPECIAL ; THAT TRAIT RUINED HER LIFE . She lifts her hand, wanting to touch, and yet she doesn't. Tentatively, she keeps her clawed hands to herself, running her thumb against her fingertips.

THE GODS DIDN ' T ANSWER KARLACH . When she was sold to the devil by her shitty boss, they didn't answer.

When she was strapped down to a table and had all of her ribs broken. When her chest was rend from flesh and bone. When she was given no painkillers for an operation that killed everyone else. When her still beating heart was torn from her chest. When she screamed and sobbed and cursed all the gods above until her vocal chords ripped and shredded. WHEN THE HEART HER MOTHER GAVE HER WAS TAKEN AWAY , AND REPLACED WITH A DEATH SENTENCE FED BY GRIEF . When her veins were ripped out, shoulders and stomach and thighs sundered open, just to force metal vents through her body. When her virility was taken away from her with such a perverse operation. When her sex organ was dissected to force shafts through, replacing veins with infernal steel and blood with oil. When the engine erupted and seared her flesh with hellfire, leaving behind permanent burns where the vents laced through her infrastructure.

They didn't listen when she was forced to recover in a dank cell, covered in burns and poorly stitched together. When she was forced to kneel before Zariel and branded like a dog. Zariel's name permanently burned into her flesh, her brands, carved into keratin and forced onto her claimed soul. When she was fighting for her life, killing whatever she could just to live for another day. When she disobeyed Zariel and was publicly tortured and whipped for her disobedience. WHEN SHE KILLED INNOCENT PEOPLE , JUST TO STAY ALIVE . When she was forced to consume soul coins. When she became addicted.

SHE WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A FUCKING DOG .

She was special - and it only cost her everything. " No gods ever answered mine. " Karlach muttered, and the tone was subdued. Anger redirected. " Look - you don't have to lose him, Beth. I'm not asking you to stop - I'm asking you to slow down. If you can. " And she draws in a sharp breath through her nose, brows pinching together, feeling how tight her throat was. Fuck. She hated seeing her break down like this. She never talked about her time in the Hells - it was too deeply traumatizing to ever bring up. But this was a serious moment - AND MAYBE SOME ASSURANCES OF NOT BEING ALONE COULD HELP . . . She hoped.

" I don't believe in the gods, not really. Gods, you know, I want to - I want to, so badly. I believe in all this shit Myrkul did for you. You and me - two dead men walking. You've been through Hells and back - but I have, too. " And she finally lays a hand against Beth's knee, her clawed hand applying just a touch of pressure. " Listen, I know I try really fucking hard to be optimistic about this shit, but-- " She needs to swallow. SHE NEARLY CHOKES. Those must be tears of sorrow - or perhaps of anger. It's hard to tell. " I'm damned if I do, and I'm damned if I don't. I want to be there for you - and help you, until the bitter end. If I can do something, if I can make some fucking difference - then it would have been worth it. Nightshade, I... I can't go back to that fucking place. I can't be Zariel's dog anymore. I can't be her slave. I was a fucking slave. Ten years in Faerûn - but fuck me, it was like forty-three down there. I would live for a fucking eternity suffering every fucking day. An eternity of loneliness, and sorrow - and after I die? Well, I'd just be right back in her lap again. Even scarier, because... I don't know what she'd do to me.

I DON ' T KNOW WHAT SORT OF MONSTER I WOULD TRULY BECOME . "

And that was what she was afraid of the most, wasn't it? Of losing all she had left. At least, like this - no matter how terrible it is - she can choose how to go out. She can feel like she's making some sort of difference. EVEN IF IT KILLS HER - AND IT WILL , SOMEDAY . " Now, soldier... Look at me. " She murmurs, cautiously tipping Beth's head up with a claw, to meet those eyes once more. Equally teary and hopeless - but still she forces the weakest smile.

" . . . TELL ME YOU WANT ME GONE . "

There was an uneasy silence that fell over them.

Bethanne had been busy lately. Too busy. Preoccupied with things she refused to even touch on, each inquiry met with a rather unsettling ‘do not fret’ in copious different reiterations — when Karlach was one of the closest people to her.

It was understandable that the fires would slowly stoke higher and higher the more the champion ignored Karlach’s concern, her own frustration reaching a fever pitch. Some things are better left unsaid. Unknown.

“ Would you just STOP? “

An abrupt lash, flickers of green light whisking about the oathbreaker’s armored body. Formerly soft eyes that gazed upon the woman with sincerity were now scorched with midnight scleras and necrotic green pupils, fists clenching and unclenching with budding violence.

“ I said I do not want to talk about MY businesses. I have so much — SO FUCKING MUCH TO DO. It all falls on ME and if I fucking FAIL then everything is going to WILD SHIT AND THE LIVES OF MANY WILL PERISH. MY EMPIRE WILL CRUMBLE! “

Vague as it was, there’s vulnerability — and terror. She’s standing at the very tip of a mountain, about to plummet to her fourth demise — in solitude.

“ — It is too dangerous for you to be let in, Karlach, I have enough lives to take care of. I adore you, I do, but you need to STAY. AWAY. “

@infernalapparatus

[infernalapparatus]

[ 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝 ] : sender has made the receiver bleed.

【 HORRORS 】 - @baldurianrogue

SLICKED BLACK OIL DRIPS DOWN THE BACK OF A BEAST . Karlach's massive shoulders heave with her heavy breaths as Astarion's knife slashes through her shoulder - right beneath the vents pouring with black smoke. The tiefling, who looks far more devilish than humanoid, seems completely unphased as her viscous, oily blood spills out of her sliced flesh. Burning hot and sizzling as soon as it touches the ground, and it angrily burns against the vampire's blade.

Slowly, she turns over her shoulder, and her eyes, fully blackened with glowing orange pupils like the hottest fires of the Hells level upon him to glare. The flare of her engine had never looked so aggressive, so deadly. Burning through her flesh, boiling her blood, stealing away the life from her eyes. The passion. The love. THE HUMANITY . All that remained was a monster, dressed in the flesh of the Fury of Avernus. " You cut me. " Comes her voice, yet it's distorted - different. Twisted. The fury follows the silence.

" You cut me. You'll pay for that. " And her massive hand fired forward to grasp him by his shirt, barely catching the front as he moves to slip away - and she drags him up into the air. Her touch burns like it never did before. Standing by her is sweltering. Her rage boils like her blood, and her teeth nearly crack from clenching. " I ' LL GUT YOU , FUCKING DEVIL . "

[infernalapparatus]

SHE WASN ' T HERSELF . That was painfully obvious, at this point - that something had changed, something had shifted. Too many coins, her addiction fueled, too many dismissals of her friends telling her not to take anymore. Even as her engine creaked and screamed, repair after repair undone from the consumption of the very souls she wanted to save. She didn't want this - but she couldn't help herself.

Now, her friends had laid battered and dead, for Karlach saw no people - only devils. Vision shifting, affected by her swirling and crippled psyche, identifying those around her as creatures wrought of the Hells and ready to drag her back down. SHE WASN ' T HOLDING ASTARION IN HER HANDS - IT WAS ANOTHER BONE DEVIL , PLEADING FOR ITS PATHETIC LIFE . " You think you can fool me? " Growls the barbarian, eyes filled completely with black, glowing eyes nearly red from the corruption, the souls.

" You think I don't see you for what you are? Little fucking devil. I'm gonna send you back down there. " She seethes, other hand clenching into a fist, fingers cracking as they curl in. She winds her hand back. " YOU CAN TELL YOUR BITCH MISTRESS THAT I ' M NEVER FUCKING COMING BACK . "

And the barbarian begins to walk on the whelp held in her one hand, dragging him in for every vicious strike. It wasn't meant to be a fast, easy death. Devils wouldn't get such mercy. No, this was going to be a case of broken bones, punctured lungs, and furious bludgeoning damage. She would never have done this if she understood - BUT SHE DIDN ' T ; THIS WAS HER FURY UNSHACKLED , AND HE WOULDN ' T DIE SLOWLY .

@infernalapparatus // cont.

BECAUSE EACH COIN had unique soul trapped within , each carried the weight of its dead owner's sin, and to hold a soul coin was to feel the soul bound within it — overcome with rage or fraught with despair.

An evil creature could carry as many soul coins as it wished.. But despite being of fiendish descent, Karlach was no evil , and the consumption of too many coins , had brought up this terrible corruption to happen within her. She was siphoning the souls' essence once too often and some of them must've been really wicked used for infernal deals, and darker bargains.

The vampire spawn didn't notice the after effects until this distorted creature which has possessed Karlach, started attacking them , and Astarion was the last one standing, so he wielded the blade within his pale crafty fingers to stab the massive barbarian. But her wrath seem to seep akin lava that run through the layers of Baator, and he stoodn't a chance.

One pale , malnourished elf couldn't match up to the Fury of the Hells. He felt himself being hiked up by his garment as he attempted to dodge the blows, but it was to no avail. Karlach was covered in black oil, all anger, and vents pouring black smoke, set to destroy anyone who stood in her way.

Gods above , she seemed to be ruled by no mercy ! And he regretted landing on the predicament of attacking , only to end up within the corrupted teifling's vice grip , fabric tearing at the back of his shirt, the claws on her would soon started tearing at flesh, from her being forceful.

" P-please, stop! ", Astarion muttered , yet his throat didn't seem capable to manage the sounds clearly, for he was , palpably terrified. Crimson orbs were now hiding , under lids shut - the demon before him , that was once someone lovable , was now a sight unbearable .

" I could be useful to you.., " The petite vampire stammered, " I could kill. . I could serve you good! "

[infernalapparatus]

" TEAR YOUR FLESH TO PIECES , FILTHY FUCKING DEVIL ! You'll never take me back there! " The deluded tiefling roars, the rage enough to shake the very floor, and she suddenly shifts slightly. The Hold Person spell cast upon her, keeping her chained to the floor, nearly breaks. The caster, Shadowheart, twists her hand to keep the tiefling chained - and blocks an attack from an oncoming devil with her shield. The hand clasped around her throat digs in, talons piercing into the scarred flesh that was severely burned in the past along the right side of her columned throat. She surges forward, the divine chains tightening around her wrists, keeping her back - but not by much. Her erratic engine flares suddenly, thoroughly scorching Bethanne's gauntlets and plausibly her hand, with all of the agony and sorrow of Hellfire. Blazing hot, thick black smoke pouring out of her vents, as the back of her throat glows orange. Tears, like molten lava, glow and drip down her cheeks as another blistering roar echoes from her overdriven chest.

" You won't take me back! I won't fucking go back! " She rages against the chains, trying to pull away, even as her throat is clutched, attempting to cut off her air supply. The glow in the back of her throat suddenly increases, and in the next beat, the tiefling is breathing fire. HELLFIRE LOOKING TO ESCAPE - AND THE VENTS DO NOT OFFER ENOUGH OF AN OUTPUT . Smog pours out of her mouth where the fire emerges, enough to singe the nosferatu, in a sudden belch of infernal flame. It lasts for only a moment, before she's sputtering and attempting to draw in breath again. Her tail lashes, every vein in her thick arms and throat bulging out, as the gears within her engine start to grind and mash. Teeth shredding in the mechanics, and an agonized scream tears from her lips, blood spilling down her jaw like thick oil.

The spell threatens to break - the concentration it takes to restrain Karlach is far too much. All the while, the barbarian can feel her engine screaming, needing more souls just to keep it together. Needing more coins, needing to beat these devils holding her down into a blood pulp. She won't ever return to Zariel, she won't ever be a slave again. THE TIEFLING IS ONLY BEATS AWAY FROM RIPPING THE LIMBS FROM THE PERCEIVED DEVILS AROUND HER .

[ Cont. ]

“ Shut up. Shut up before I SLAM YOU INTO AN EARLY GRAVE MYSELF. “

Authoritative words are spat back with wyvern toxin, gauntleted digits pivoting to now dig deep into the calloused flesh of the tiefling. The Gospel holds no fear — it was not as if she had anything to fear, after all. Should Karlach turn the tables and MURDER her, she would simply resurrect within a certain duration of time. Much more agitated over failing to remain with the upper hand, surely, but she would return nonetheless.

Bethanne had a job to do on the mortal plane. She could not afford to lose to anyone — friend or foe. The one thing she truly feared was ultimate failure — an irreversible outcome over negligence and hubris. That would not do. TOO MANY DEVOTEES RELIED ON HER TO KEEP THEM FROM GOING EXTINCT.

“ For FUCK’S sake, Karlach — CONTROL YOURSELF! I have not the slightest idea why you are acting this overzealous — but you need to CUT THIS SHIT OUT BEFORE ONE OF US ENDS UP A MANGLED CORPSE ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD.

AND IT WILL NOT BE ME. “

Her palm squeezes ruthlessly harder, attempting to cut off Karlach’s air flow. The necrotic glow in the oathbreaker’s eyes flare even brighter, warning the other to back down.

“ ENOUGH. “

@infernalapparatus