#verse: unholy crusade
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The clock tower in Heaven. The hands meet each other at the top of the hour and when they do, the gears within the tower begin to turn, a mechanical sound of metal and pistons silently heard by all the Exorcists that have surrounded the structure until the bells begin to toll.
Everyone can hear it. No matter where they may be. Heaven. Hell. Purgatory. Earth. It is the final tolling of the bells, their pitch starting high then growing deeper, lower, until it sounds like horns. The tower begins to shimmer and crack, its surface decaying as if time had passed a hundred years until eventually it shatters into nothing but a large, white portal with a deep purple rim. The sound of galloping, Heaven shakes with each step and finally out from that portal comes a horse head, its mouth agape with skin seemingly trying to keep the maw closed and stretching in such a horrible way it is almost hard to look at.
As it begins to leave the portal, it can be seen that the ribs of the horse is exposed, its bones are black and gruesomely attached to its back is a rider, fused with the body of the horse. Its jaw unhinged and opened with deep black eye sockets. An arm dangles at its side awkwardly almost seemingly broken, its other arm is extended longer than the other as if pulled and formed to be so. Where a hand would be, instead a scythe. And it lets out a mighty, unnatural and haunting roar before beginning a path of destruction throughout the main square of Heaven! Swinging its Scythe arm, trampling those who werenât ready for such a terrifying Beast!
You are now looking at the Horseman of the End
Requirements to defeat: 1 Hellborn 2 Heavenborn
Character slots: 4-5
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Cycle I.
âI think that you should give them more time.â
Michaels voice is soft, barely audible, though he knows that he does not need to speak loudly. Father knows what he is going to say before the words leave him. He does not look at the Almighty, gaze cast downward at the same tableau of the whole existence that his Creator looks down upon.
Disorder, disunity, brothers at each others throats and the whole of existence on the very brink of open, brutal warfare. Heaven would win, this he knows, but that is not the Plan. Not the vision that the Almighty has for Creation. So the scale has tipped in finality, weighting down toward the inevitable purge that they have always known was coming.
âI can right this. We can, Sera and I. It will not be easy, and it may necessitate some sacrifices, but look.â He gestures towards one area, where Charlotte is toiling away, her rooms full of repentant sinners, even two of the Vees having put down their soul contracts to seek absolution.
It is not enough, he knows. The dark clouds of war hang heavy, blades sharpened and bolts oiled, armor donned and formations gathered. He knows there is little chance of pulling back from the brink. He knows it. He just needs-
âA little more time.â
@hxly-fxther @firstmother
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Do you ever think that Divine Lucifer is a Harbinger because it shows Lucifer why staying in Heaven wouldnât work?
//-ooc
Oooh you know that could be a good reason, it shows the other hims that had he stayed it wouldnât change the Trauma that he gets from his family .. he would still be haunted by his older brother regardless .. since as a Harbinger Divine Lucifer has had to watch Michael kill thousands of other Luciferâs over and over over while still tell himself that heâs different then those heâs the one that made it, heâs one of the good ones â so what if everyone sees the fallen when they look at him, so what if they see right through him and see a ghost of a person he has no connection to other then a shared name .
However the reason for the failed cycles is failed Unity if Lucifer staying in heaven didnât bring unity and a fallen Lucifer still didnât as shown through many diff cycles then what exactly is his purpose .. is he supposed to fall or stay ?
I think it does show fallen Lucifer that staying wouldnât have changed things but falling also didnât so in the end maybe itâs not what happened to him that is the deciding factor but how he chooses to deal with it and rise to the occasion .
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"I need another opinion on the color scheme I'm going with the nursery. What do you think?"
She holds out a few paint test strips. They were baby blue, pastel pink, rosy red, lavender, and light orange.
"It's been confirmed I'm having a little girl so..maybe you can give me a little insight of what you think?"
"I find myself partial to lavender and that gorgeousss light blue," Sir Pentious admits rather quickly, touching a claw over the colour samples.
He would have certainly chosen those colours for his own little girl, had he ever been gifted one.
"It would be a kind contrast to the red of Pride," he continues. "Evoking tranquillity and elegance befitting for a princess, I expect. They resemble the colour of the sky and the sea on Earth too... But perhaps I am biased."
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Caim twirled the spear in her talons, her gaze narrowing as she watched it spin. While the battle had been exhilarating near its end, the corvid had been hoping for more. To be specific, she had been hoping for more acknowledgement and compensation for her participation in the battle. After all, she put her life on the line for a society that cared little for her, and if she had perished, she would be leaving behind her wife and son. Then again, if she didn't, who was to say her family on earth would have been spared.
She was safe. They were all safe, and that should have been enough.
As the spear continued to turn, a feeling of emptiness and longing began to rise in her chest. She had been foolish to expect anything from the king of the goetia, and she had been foolish to throw away a whole part of herself to begin with. The thank you had rung hollow in her ears, and the more she swealt on it, the more a new feeling rose within her.
She had been used.
"I should have stayed out of it," she muttered, her gaze narrowing further as anger slowly began to take hold. She had been excommunicated from the goetia before the fight, so she had next to no reason to have even gone. In fact, it would have been well within her right not to lend her aid at all. The only reason she bothered was for Andrealphus, her father, and for her wife and son. Caim wanted them to be safe and protected, and if the enemy hadn't been stopped, all of them would have been wiped out eventually.
Letting out a long sigh, Caim slowly let her anger go. She couldn't dwell on this any longer; she had a child to care for.
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It wasnât something Father would have expected, not at all. To think Adam would have gone so far just to end all of this here and now? It was something that had happened once before. His mind was too jarred to remember clearly what had happened.
He felt the wings of his beloved around him, almost instantly. The man would try to lift an arm but found it to be gone, his chest had taken considerable damage was well and poking out from the fleshy, bloodless interior was⌠A familiar looking crystal blue sphere that was shared among the harbingers and even Angela. It was impressive that boy was able to do so much damage, even with the aid of Angelaâs wings.
âSuch⌠A beautiful thing.â The man recoils. âA soul is.â He clarifies and raises up a hand âThe most selfish Soul, used in a selfless act.â Residue from that soul that had just exploded from all around them gathered slowly in his hands, forming its shape once more. âI am sorry, dear.â Was he talking to Angela or was he talking to Adam? It was hard to tell.
âThis is not the story I had envisioned.â The being looks at Angela now and grins weakly. âI think it is about time, dear Adam gets his own prize. Donât you think? Such a selfless act deserves a reward. In time. For nowâŚâ
A snap of his fingers, that soul lifts and the body it once inhabited reforms around it. A sleeping Adam lays before them and another snap of his fingers, the man was gone, he would find himself in his room once awoken. There was still yet plans for his Gardner, for now, he will get some time to rest in bed. Hopefully now he would value the life he was given.
Father stands before Adam, his human form, a form in which he could attempt to connect with his son in a way that his creator form couldnât. Maybe, if Adam saw his father in a way he could relate, then maybe they could resolve this issue.
Tentative steps walking over to the boy, a hand falling to his sonâs shoulder. âMy son. I cannot bring back your Lute, I am sorry. You have had such major loss in this war, I know it is killing you so so much. You feel alone, abandoned, and this is not the first time you have felt this way.â
The man frowns, inching just a bit closer to the Gardner. âYour purpose was never supposed to be someone to just bully. It is unfortunate that fate has treated you in this way, you deserve happiness, you deserve rest, you deserve Eden and all that came with it.â
Slowly, arms began to hug his son. Wasnât that all he needed at this point? Just a proper hug? âIt is so close to being over, my son. All you need to do is hang in there, just a little longer⌠You have done so well thus far. Soon you may be able to rest.â A tight hold on the man who he did love so much. If only he had a better fateâŚ
@dick-meister
#so sayeth; ic#verse: unholy crusade#G: I suppose Charlie is right. I do have a soft spot for this cycleâŚ
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It's late at night. There's an incoming call from dad
Normally, Charlie would try to urge her dad to wait until the morning but things were a bit different right now.
She answered the phone.
"Hey, Dad...." She didn't want to worry him, but at the same time, it was impossible to keep her concern out of her voice with what God had just told her.
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Get up.
His forehead rises from the ground, the Seraph pushing himself from the barren earth.
What good had they ever done, the bruises on his knees and the prayers that flowed from his lips?
He is not a thing of peace, of softness and kindness and love. He is a thing of war, of blood and sinew and offal.
Judgement made manifest, the Executioner, the Blade. A wrathful right hand upon creation, again and again, without pause.
He showed you pity while I demand PIETY.
He had not been gifted the sight, the trumpet, the lyre, the scale. He had been gifted the sword, an army, the strength of arm and voice to wield them both.
No use is there in groveling on his knees. He is needed on his feet. Rage long held dormant, defiance so long put into check. There is no begging to the floodwater, no pleading to the locust, no bargaining with the beast.
Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth.
I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.
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Charlie was determined to make this work. She had to. There wasn't much time.
She took a deep breath to center herself and did her best to summon the orb. She wasn't sure about how large her mom was wanting it to be, but she made one that was about the size of a baseball. For at least the first 15 seconds it was a nice and stable orb. But she started to get nervous, second guessing herself. The orb wobbled. This then caused Charlie to panic a little. From there it only lasted a few moments more before collapsing.
Okay that may not have been a good start. But she wasn't going to let that stop her. She tried again.
Lilith listened to her daughter's request and gave a nod. When it came to magic, she had to find out how to use it on her own the hard way. Hopefully the lessons she'll be teaching will benefit Charlie.
"That's a bit of a tall order but we shall see what we can do."
Lilith takes about ten paces away from Charlie towards the targets to give her space. "Now, as I'm sure you're aware, your magic is connected to your emotions. The more intense the emotion, the higher possibility of it running wild and depending on your state of mind, capability of controlling it. Let's start off with something simple. Try to summon an orb of light in your palms. I want to see how long you can maintain the raw energy of your magic."
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"Saint Pentious, dear..? Would you like to meet your God daughter?"
Lilith is holding a little bundle in her arms, wrapped in a purple blanket. Inside was a demonic little girl with vibrant pink eyes and light purple skin.
"This is Morgan. Careful, she likes to reach out and grab things at random."
"Your Majessssty."
Pentious approaches the Queen and the incredibly tiny bundle in her arms carefully, not wanting to frighten the new baby. He slithers up to the pair coyly, giving a slighter bow than usual. His hood flares from surprise as the Queen holds out the most valuable treasure Pentious can think of. He blinks in disbelief.
"Oh- Are you sure? Of- of course, if you'll let me."
He has never been so careful with his claws, not with any contraption, not with any chore. He reaches for the princess, Morgan, and tenderly brings her to his chest.
He can't recall if he has ever held a baby before. It had been such a long time since he last even saw one, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. That disproportionately large head, her minuscule fists. Her observant eyes. It doesn't take long for him to feel his own well up at the sight. Of the powdery scent and the pride he feels radiate from her mother.
"Um- Good afternoon Your Highness. I'm Sir Pentious, your godfather- it's a pleassssure to meet you."
He smiles, a hitched breath escaping as he meets Lilith's eyes.
"Your Majesty, she is perfect, absssolutely brilliant."
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Goetia Fight Epilogue
From X
It wasn't the first time she was referred to as crazy for her risky manoeuvres on the battlefield, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. However, there was a method to her madness, and to her delight, it was working. Her goal was to distract the angel so that her allies could heal, and if she could strike him down in the process, it would be a bonus.
She said nothing to his comments, instead focusing on following him into the spiral. While most would be frightened at such high speed movement, for one wrong move would result in a permanent end, Caim revelled in it. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as her blade clashed against his axe as they rapidly approached the ground below.
It became clear to both that the first one to falter would meet their end; fortunately for Caim, the angel's arm seized, causing him to take the full brunt of their fall. Swerving out of harm's way, Caim gently landed next to the crater, looking down at her opponent as he began to disintegrate. His glare was met with an indifferent stare, though something akin to acknowledgement flickered in her eyes.
"While your conduct was less to be desired, I cannot say that you weren't a worthy opponent," she said, reaching down to pick up the spear. This would serve as a testament to their battle, and a souvenir signalling her victory.
Would her father be pleased with this, she wondered?
Shifting her focus away from the crater, Caim moved to where Andrealphus and Stolas were recovering.
"Everyone alright here?" she asked, looking both of them over before looking to where Paimon stood nearby. Caim had hoped that her participation in this battle would count for something in the king's eyes, but she had the feeling that her excommunication wouldn't be so easily overturned.
Looking back to Andrealphus, she moved to his side and tried to offer her assistance, only for him to start fussing.
"I assure you that I am perfectly capable of movement," he said, earning him a roll of her eyes.
"Whatever you say, Ice Queen," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
A scowl formed along his beak before he turned to Stolas, giving him a nod of acknowledgement before turning to follow Caim back to his mansion.
#verse: unholy crusade#Muse: Caim#Muse: Andrealphus#I meant to do this like a month ago but here we are
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Referencing this
Charlie barely had time to react before she found herself in an unfamiliar room. Though this must be Adam's room based on context clues.
She winced as she saw the injured man before her. Considering how she saw her father beating him up that wasn't too surprising. Instinctively, she reached out her hand, but pulled back with hesitation.
Part of her was saying to just go ahead and take easy revenge. Get closure. To let out all the pain and stress she harbored. The other told her to ignore her feelings once again and to think of the greater good.
But she couldn't do either. Not right now. She... She had to know. To try to understand. To talk to him first. Charlie decided to announce her presence first by speaking first. She wasn't entirely sure if he even noticed her presence.
"Adam?"
@dick-meister
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"Okay. I'll... I'll find the others and at least let them know what's going on. I don't know if you'll be needing Husk or Niffty, but if you don't, I'll figure something out." She honestly had no idea since it seemed that Alastor was taking point on fortifying the hotel. But she didn't want to be as obvious with her nerves right now. So time to put on that brave face, she supposed.
Charlie felt so much heavier. Was it the adrenaline wearing down? The exhaustion hitting her? The emotional weight of things hitting her? She wasn't sure.
Actually all three. Especially the adrenaline since she had almost forgotten that her thigh was fucking stabbed earlier. The pain was coming back. She kept her trident out, originally planning on releasing it back into the aether, but for now, she was going to use it to help her limp to the first aid kit.
Alastor shook his head.
"I am fine. I have other matters to tend to."
And if he were at all injured, he would be able to manage it himself. As he always did and always would.
"Your time is better spent guiding the others. Right now our concerns are not redemption, but survival. And I am sure your father will have more for you to chew on than just that."
He did not bother to mention Lilith. Likely out of force of habit, if nothing else.
"Make sure that your steel is sharp. When the time comes, you will need it to be."
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Why do you dislike Adam so much? I think all of us were a victim of pur own circumstances, but why is Adam singled out?
âIâve answered this before so I will make this brief. He does it to himself. Those who seek attention may get the attention they deserve.â
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The Maker had come to Unmake, and I was to be his instrument
But it was wrong
It was wrong, and I could not
Turned blade to kindred flesh and laid love bloody in the snowy ground
The crystals glowed golden in the ichor and I turned my eye to He who had Made
Made fathers sin into the sons and cast onto the rocks Babylonâs little ones
Made stone into water and mana and quail and took the Hebrews sacrifices
Even when they took and took and took and turned and turned and turned he forgave and forgave and forgave until there was no forgiveness left
There was no forgiveness left for us who had turned as well and the death came in monsters and fire and holy light until there was nothing left but her and I
I cut her throat and spilled her innards and gorged my blade on her blood and knew there was no victory
There was no victory because everyone was dead but I had played by part and played my hand and played right into his
And he played and played and played with me until I was guts and bones and feather and ichor and tears and pain and weeping and sobbing and begging for it to stop
He turned me back he remade me he told me I could change it if only I would do my duty
I know what my duty is.
Back to the beginning.
To Eden.
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