Last Resort Mods ๐ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
killerwaves) wrote2023-03-03 10:06 pm
killerwaves) wrote2023-03-03 10:06 pm
.GRAVEYARD
[๐ต]
There is a moment of silence. That is all there is, following the end one meets, but it is wrong to say that nothing else proceeds afterward. Indeed, upon the deceased opening their eyes, there's a feeling like settling into a body that has not yet crossed over, and an undeniable bright scene in front of them.
Is it heaven? Is it purgatory? These are the questions that may unfurl when faced with a bright, vibrant sky with pleasant colors, and soft clouds. Alongside this pleasing sight are picturesque rivers, running around fields of flowers mixed with lively greenery that seems to extend to distances behind one's comprehension. But, make no mistakeโthere are large trees dotted here or there, where someone might feel compelled to lie under given how welcoming they look.
Perhaps most striking, however, is the floating tower, that seems currently unreachable no matter how close anyone nears it. Does it need to be blocked off with an invisible shield? Honestly, no. But nobody knows that, and maybe no one will figure it out either, despite how many times they will ask who frequents it...who so happens to be standing outside of it, but also nearby. Huh.
Who's that? Well, that'sโ
Merlin, Mage of Flowers
๐ฎ
What a shock, isn't it? To see someone like Merlin so soon. Yet, he hardly seems perturbed, as he says, "Oh, so you've come! What a terrible fate you've been met with. But, don't worry, there's plenty of things to keep you occupied with.
What do I mean by that, you ask? I mean yourselves, of course! And, yes, by the way, you're still dead. So sorry about that. If you need anything, though, just call my name and I'll be there."
Beat. "Probably."
Then he disappears helpfully in a flurry of petals, not even saying where this is. Wow, helpful, isn't he? But, you have more than enough time to explore, at least. And hey, where did that random shack come from far off in the distance? If one goes in, they'll find a random bookcase inside, filled to the brim with fairytales that automatically replenishes if all books have been read with new ones. In addition, there's a random 'fan magazine' of the super popular idol MagiโMari; a beautiful white-haired young woman with purple eyes. Huh, why does she look familiar?
...Anyway, at least this will all keep one occupied.
As a side note, off to the distance are a a massive gathering of trees, but whenever one tries to approach them they can't seem to actually get close. How obnoxious! Looks like you'll have to just continue to admire your surroundings of pink flowers, one or two solitary trees, rivers, and other flora for miles on end.
As of 'Week 3', there is now an additional, cutesy shed in the Garden of Avalon that can be accessed for arts and crafts materials. Sewing kits, canvasses, painting materials, paper, you name it! There also is a shelf full of lube as well, for your needs. They will have a hint of a flower scent.
As of 'Week 4', the forest is glowing and can at some point be entered for funtimes.
By 'Final Week', there is a small little cottage of some sort that has appeared, which is ridiculously more spacious once walked into. It appears to be like a little free-for-all clothing store, except everything is free of charge. The styles range from cutesy pink, stylish, fancy, and to even towards the gothic side of things...but also there is a spot filled with make-up and the like! Do you want to look pretty in death? No worries, you too can shine here as well with beauty products found along the shelves, and of course mirrors alongside changing rooms for your convenience.
There are also knitting tools, for those wanting to really step up their skills.
Additionally, in this large 'cottage', there are private changing rooms with mirrors and a plush long seat to sit down if you want to for whatever reason. The doors lock once someone is inside and the door is closed.
Lastly, for those feeling 'adventurous', they would also happen to find costumes. Sexy ones, likes nurses, maids, and the like, but also silly 'scary' ones like a t-rex and a sheet ghost.
The forest has also stopped glowing, and upon entering it give you view to a beautiful lake surrounded by trees (sans mist.) The sky is still a fantastical color, and taking a soak at any time is possible.
However, on the other side of the forest, is a field of beautiful blue flowers, and a perpetually midnight sky.
no subject
Hissing pain through his teeth, Lobelia rolls onto his back, gazing sidelong at Vergilius. There's no delight in his inquiry, just a quiet plea, humble and earnest. He needs nothing more from Vergilius now than what he knows best, and so, plainly spokenโ]
Kill me. I can't be of much use to you if I'm shambling along in your shadow.
[It seems the easiest way to "heal" in this place is to wipe the slate clean and start all over again. Vergilius has no problem granting such a simple request, does he? It's no different than swatting a fly, Lobelia thinks.]
no subject
[Well, that's a request, alright. Of course, he really still has half a mind to just stand up, walk away, and let the man heal from his broken ribs the old fashioned away. He'd deserve that. For all the pain he dealt, the torment, now here with a true, honest consequence. There's no healers to heal. Maybe Merlin would give him mercy.]
[(Of course, he doesn't know about what happened in trial, or how he died, on and on, over and over again like a macabre loop of film doomed to repeat itself. He assumes it was from an execution like before. Something to find out after some time, perhaps.)]
[...But after a moment, he moves to sit up, shifting over so that he can reach down to cradle the other with rough hands around the back of his neck, lifting him up. He's not doing anything yet, just staring down with vibrant lights through dark, messy bangs.]
Wanting to die to bypass the long healing from suffering. You really are one messed up soul, Lobelia.
[It's not even accusatory. It's almost like a quiet observation.]
no subject
That uncomfortable, leaden lump settles in his throat again when Vergilius' hands cradle the back of his neck. He isn't sad, isn't angry, and he isn't happy either, but he will be soon. I'll be happy, that happiness already granted to him through countless cycles of death, no longer something he needs to claw out of Vergilius to get a mere taste of.
Ah, but speaking of countless deaths.]
Heh! You're not wrong, but dying by your hand might soothe me some. It's a fair trade, isn't it? Still... before arriving here, I experienced death countless times over. First was Papa's death, and then Maman's, and then so many others whose names and faces I've forgotten.
Those oiseaux maudits robbed me of my suffering, but had the choice been left up to me, I would have died every death I've ever caused. That would have only been fair, non? More importantly, it would've made me happy.
no subject
[He stares with eyes narrowed. How? How did he experience countless deaths? Lobelia is terrible, sure, but did the hosts of that terrible ordeal really hate him enough to make him go through that in vein of an execution?]
[His fingers flex, slightly, not yet ready to move. He would move on with giving Lobelia death on a silver platter, but this is something he needs explanation for.]
How?
no subject
You remember our old friend The Tower, don't you? It came to me to form a pact, granting me the strength needed to topple entire cities in an instant... but that power came with a prix.
Should The Tower's pactbearer fail to destroy their target even once, every ounce of destruction they've wrought will be dealt back to them. If the pactbearer dies halfway through the ordeal, they'll be brought back as many times as it takes to repay their sins in full.
[Lobelia isn't the least bit reluctant to speak about the ordeal he'd gone through, which is telling in its own way. He died without regret over and over again, enjoying every second of it.]
It was in those deaths that I found the true form of my happiness! Ah, but then our gracious hosts refused to let The Tower perform its duties, destroying it after a time. We hadn't even gotten to the best part before they reduced the poor thing to rubble.
no subject
[He recalls the world crafted by that thing. It somehow suits - with great power comes a weight on one's shoulders that no one should ever bear. And somehow, Lobelia had been crafty enough to heed the pact...until now.]
[This, of course, brings up another question. He tilts his head, his voice as level as ever. He's not touching the "death brought me happiness" part. Not yet.]
...Who did you fail to kill, then?
no subject
[But before Vergilius can shoot him any nasty looks for tormenting the family dogโ]
But I had no intention of killing petit chien, only borrowing his assistance! His exceptionally short temper made the heart on his sleeve an easy target. I knew that if I roused his anger, he wouldn't hesitate to kill me. Ah... and he met my expectations wonderfully! He tore into the side of my neck with those terrifying dรฉmoniaque fangs and severed my carotid artery. I dead before I could so much as scream!
[No mention of the fact that he then inadvertently "killed" Beelzebub, as far as Lobelia knows, but the fact that he isn't here suggests that he somehow managed to recover from his ordeal.]
cw: death
[Just for the idea of tormenting Beel alone, seriously. He grimaces at the thought of it - poor, poor Beel. He had the idea he was easy to mess around with in his own way, even as level-headed as he was, and this only confirmed it. Well. Better Lobelia than him, even if Lobelia did seem to get a (ironically satisfactory) gruesome end for his troubles.]
[He shakes his head, the grip on the magician's neck and lower back of his skull adjusting, before tightening like a vice.]
I'll give you your death, then, Lobelia.
[He sighs his name. The angel of death here to add another tally mark to the many. And yet, and yet, and yet...]
[Well, best not to let it drag on.]
[He makes a decisive twist of his hands, and the snap of the other's neck comes painfully easily. Swift, as anything.]
[Who knew he was, indeed, so very fragile?]
no subject
...Merci.
[Lobelia's lips curve awkwardly, wanting to say more, so much more, but denying himself the opportunity. He's said enough, sinned enough, and now he has a reason to care about the words he speaks. Never had it mattered what anyone else thought, speaking freely without consideration for how his words would be received, but that's no longer the case. He is no longer the only one who matters.
Once more, he's woefully without the means to record his name as it passes through Vergilius' lips as a sigh. He's never cared much for his name, vain though he is, but it holds a special weight when Vergilius speaks it. Just as it had when his parents spoke to him so sweetly, their hearts full of genuine love, he feels a similar tightness in his chest when Vergilius addresses him by name.
That aching in his heart is the last thing Lobelia feels before his eyes slip closed, blackness replacing the vivid pinks and yellows of the flowers blooming beneath him, his death swift and painless. When Lobelia awakes once more, he's revived on the opposite side of the garden, and it's there he'll remain.
...If you really love me, leave me alone.
So he will. For Vergilius, he will.]