change your name and keep your face
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Jun 28, 2016 12:55:48 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 28, 2016 12:55:48 GMT
this whole thing, he decides, is bullshit.
his visit today is somewhat less frantic, in part because the shitty little car he’s stolen groans every time he changes gear and he’s pretty sure one of the axles is just about to fall off, but he’s no less pissed. fucking monkey.
he’d texted ahead - sure, it’d been ‘seriously, i fucking hate you’ rather than anything constructive, but it makes a point that he’s still alive at any rate - and he doesn’t get thrown off the property as soon as he pulls up, which also works. he pops the trunk and pushes it back down again, just sort of closed, and then pulls a bottle from the plastic crate sitting in the back.
after a moment’s thought he picks up the empty plastic gallon bottle sitting in the back footwell too. might as well make a point.
he doesn’t bother saying anything as he walks into the office, just sets them both firmly on the desk, both labels facing toward the other man. the contrast of the weathered wine bottle label and the loud yellow ‘INSECTICIDE’ one is quite something.
“first of all, fuck you. secondly, your shit is outside in the car. there were like three cases’ worth that weren’t broken, they’re all there.”
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Jun 28, 2016 13:16:42 GMT
Post by monkey on Jun 28, 2016 13:16:42 GMT
Monkey snaps his fingers like the jackass that he is, and half a dozen monkeys rush forward to unload the cargo. Which was over several centuries old and valuable beyond Max's comprehension, but Monkey already factored the goods as a loss. An accountant monkey in the back screeches when he has to modify the account books.
Money is exchanged between the monkeys. Some of them had been making bets on whether or not the human would return at all, or return in pieces. A lot of money is exchanged.
"That wasn't so bad was it, boy?" He yawns and stretches for a bit. "I guess you've earned your due. Come with me." He beckons for Max to follow him into one of the side doors. Inside was the Urn of Hashr on a golden altar. The room was filled with the smoke, which came from several rows of incense sticks upon a pewter burner.
A monkey servant comes through to offer a ceremonial knife to Monkey. He turns the servant away. "Oh no, give it to the boy. He's the one who's going to need it."
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 29, 2016 11:34:58 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 29, 2016 11:34:58 GMT
the screaming is annoying. the... betting pool? that just outright pisses him off.
“nice to know i had the confidence of everyone.” but max has more important shit to think about, and he has to marshal his focus. he hasn’t slept in two days, hasn’t been to work in as long, and he’s still running a fever. and it’s not exactly the nerve - no, with monkey it’s more like the complete inability to give a shit about the inconsequence of mortal man or some other fucking thing - but max is clearly on the verge of delivering every word with an accompanying snarl.
“it’s over, that’s all i care about.” he follows, and as they step into the altar room he just can’t keep in the murmur under his breath of “not this fucking thing again”. max has had enough of this fucking urn for a lifetime. if it wasn’t potentially going to give back what it took from him he’d punt the damn thing into the river.
he casts a sidelong look at monkey as the servant presses the knife into his hand. “i get the feeling i’m really not going to appreciate this next part.”
monkey
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Jun 29, 2016 12:02:32 GMT
Post by monkey on Jun 29, 2016 12:02:32 GMT
"Depends." Monkey wets his lips. He could really do with a flavored vodka right about now. "How squeamish are you about human sacrifices?"
A twenty-something woman is brought out by two strongmen in suits. Her brown hair is mottled with blood and she doesn't look like she's had a shower in at least a few days. She would scream, except she's been gagged with cloth. Her hazel eyes are glassy with fear. They push her naked form in front of the altar.
"You didn't think that the Void Dragon Hashr gives back anything for free, did you?" He smiles. Maybe this would be easier without his powers.
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 29, 2016 12:46:14 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 29, 2016 12:46:14 GMT
... oh.
his lips are parted as he watches them drag her out. he doesn’t move, just stays rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her.
he probably should have been expecting this.
and monkey is just super fucking chipper about this, which makes it infinitely worse. the knife is heavy in max’s hand - his entire body feels heavy, the fatigue and dread and god, he’s just fucking tired. who knows what the fuck this poor woman has done to monkey. he won’t ask. he doesn’t want to know. doesn’t want to know who she is or why she’s here or what makes her the person he apparently has to fucking stab. it’s just going to... complicate things.
he turns to monkey, taking a deep breath. “if this is some trick, i swear to fucking god i will -” do what, exactly? he doesn’t even know. leave and throw away his entire purpose for living? “... i know it is super fucking hard for you, but be straight with me. i am supposed to... do... this,” a glance over at the terrified woman, swallowing hard, “and doing it gets me back what i lost?”
he shifts his grip on the knife.
“... what do i do?”
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Jun 29, 2016 14:09:45 GMT
Post by monkey on Jun 29, 2016 14:09:45 GMT
"Uhhh you're not supposed to do anything. It's a free country, remember? At least, that's what everyone's been telling me." It's no fun if Monkey is the one to hold a knife to Max's throat. Nah, it's only interesting when he gets to ... what was it, damn himself? He sees little damnation in murder, but he knows that it's a big deal to mortals. Mortals, who have so few years in their grasp to start with. "You can accept or refuse. Not my problem, I've already got my wine."
Seeminly out of nowhere, he produces a scholar's robe and glasses. Monkey drapes them over himself and enlarges the Ruyijinggubang as a pointer. He uses it to gesture at the Urn of Hashr.
"Hashr's gifts requires currency in fresh blood. Any blood older than thirty seconds will start depreciating in value, depending on the oxygen content of the surrounding air. Which means that any blood offered must be spilt on the ritual ground quickly. I think you would want... hrmmm, a gallon, give or take?"
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 30, 2016 16:16:02 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 30, 2016 16:16:02 GMT
he has his mouth open to argue - the intent of the question is obvious, fuckwad, c’mon - but the sudden....
his life is turning into some kind of surrealist cartoon or something, he’s pretty sure. not even a good one. more like one of those flash animations from the mid-2000s trying to rip off aeon flux and failing.
“that’s... great,” he settles for, “but my question was more directed at this being potentially just a way to get me to do legitimate, actual murder and permanently blackm-” he stops mid-sentence because he’s already promised to repay monkey in service, hasn’t he? good job, jackass.
“... never mind.” he’s trying not to think about this. compartmentalise. he’s been responsible for deaths before. sure, the fuckers have deserved it and it’s... okay, it’s never been by his own hand, but... it’s her or him. his life. he chews on his lip, trying not to look as conflicted as he feels.
a gallon is almost all there is in an entire body, isn’t it? with his luck he’s going to have to open his own fucking veins.
max takes a single, tentative step forward. “and the ritual ground is the altar?”
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Jun 30, 2016 16:57:21 GMT
Post by monkey on Jun 30, 2016 16:57:21 GMT
"Yep!" Monkey tells him a little too cheerfully. He's just providing the tools. Whatever Max's choices are, hopefully he won't be squealing at him for solutions later. This time he knows what he's in for. This time, he can claim no ignorance.
The woman sqirms harder, tears streaming from her eyes. Begging takes the form of desperate grunts. She does not want to die, but stronger men have bargains to uphold.
Even a few monkeys start to look uneasy.
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 30, 2016 17:42:25 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 30, 2016 17:42:25 GMT
he walks forward.
he could try to rationalise this but it’s... it’s what it is, isn’t it? her life for his purpose back. there’s... nothing else he can do at this point.
he takes a deep breath as his feet bring him to a halt behind her, the knife’s hilt loose in his fingers, and his heart is starting to pound hard enough to feel the pulse in his throat.
he doesn’t even speak.
he just presses her right against the altar and uses a hand on her chin to pull her head sharply back. she’s resisting, but he’s stronger than he is. the blade of the knife sweeps over her throat.
the thing that surprises him is how easy it is.
max feels a little sick, but mostly he feels... numbed.
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Jun 30, 2016 18:06:55 GMT
Post by monkey on Jun 30, 2016 18:06:55 GMT
Hashr takes care of the rest. After all, the ritual is a purely ceremonial gesture. The true gift to a god is not one that is taken. It is one that is given freely. The girl's body is throughly drained from one river of blood. Within seconds, her body goes into pallor mortis, skips algor mortis, and goes straight to rigor mortis.
A black smoke forms from the urn. The monkeys around them start shrieking and flailing. Monkey holds a single finger to his lips. "Shhh...."
The negative smoke surrounds Nemesis. A negative that is not evil, but a negative that negates the space-time around it. To stand in the middle of it must be - how does he feel?
Hungry, probably. A hunger that consumes and consumes in an attempt to be made whole.
The smoke reforms itself into the shape of a dragon, a crown upon Nemesis' head. Cornated. Monkey does not envy him, but neither does Monkey pity him. Not this time. He walks his own path.
("We should have made him take the Kallash Bath! We should have! We should have! Why didn't the King let him!")
A foreign language scrawls itself into the man's brain. Only then does the rasping sounds become clear to those who would listen.
<"Are you...powerful?">
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 30, 2016 18:55:14 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 30, 2016 18:55:14 GMT
max drops the knife with a loud clang against the altar, steps back at the unnatural sudden stiffness, and as the smoke starts to pour he is acutely aware that he has probably done something very, very bad. he hears his own pulse in his ears, feels the breath stolen out of him, feels like he’s been grabbed tight by something without form or substance.
it feels like he’s being hollowed out from the inside and yet he can’t draw enough breath to make a sound.
he feels acutely powerless under the psychic assault and yet it’s that flicker of what’s missing, the closest thing to the familiar feeling he’s craved for days and it’s almost like he’s laying himself open to it. surrendering.
i was, i could be, i want to be, no, that’s not even it, because he’s gotten this far and fuck any and all attempt to tell him he isn’t -
"yes."
he wants back what he lost.
he’s starting to think might not actually care if he’s fucked up or not.
monkey
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Jun 30, 2016 20:06:32 GMT
Post by monkey on Jun 30, 2016 20:06:32 GMT
Monkey gets one of his servants to pour him a glass of the recovered wine. All this blood and doom puts him in a chipper drinking mood.
<"Then you are mine">
All of the smoke attempts to force itself into Nemesis' head all at once. Through every orifice. It is not the true body of the dragon, not from the remnants of refuse ash, but it is a form that a human can recieve without disintegrating.
Hail the Destroying Eye! The Greater-than-Gods! May He find greatness in this realm and the next! A ghastly roar rumbles, one that only Nemesis can hear. A roar that emphasis how hollow he is, except for the steel and the fire.
Their benefactor raises his wine glass. Around him sat circles of huddled monkeys who could not stomach the Banished One's presence. At least, not on their legs.
"Cheers." And he drinks.
* * *
THE AVATAR OF HASHR -
His mental powers have upgraded considerably, allowing Nemesis to affect both supernatural creatures and spirits. If not controlled properly, he can send lesser humans into a coma. Hashr's powers tend to decay minds that Nemesis 'hooks', especially over longer periods of time. Assume that none of Nemesis' powers are harmless - in fact, his victims will feel as if their mind is being eaten. The trade off for the host is constant paranoia and a feeling that he's never quite alone.
Nemesis is able to visit the minds of other dreamers, provided that he himself is sleeping. He is able to affect things in the dream realm.
Once per thread, Nemesis can give himself over to Hashr in order to devour the mind of his chosen victim. The body will live, but the brain will become irrepairable.
Hashr's upgrades have no effect on the following characters: physis VALKYRIE delta , and Zahir. Only his original powers will be effective as usual. If Nemesis uses his powers on grey while he is J, then Hashr himself will intercede. No harm will come to his true champion.
nemesis |
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change your name and keep your face
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Post by nemesis on Jul 1, 2016 1:48:59 GMT
he slumps, falls forward hard on his hands, can only vaguely hope in some far-flung corner of his mind that he keeps his feet and doesn’t end up smacking his face off the altar. mostly, though, his attention is taken up with the smoke, the burn without fire, his mind lighting up again after endless hours of cold quiet and -
he’s not sorry, he’s not sorry at all. the sense of foreboding, sure, that’s... god, this thing is powerful, huge, overwhelming as it presses down on him but he’s opened his arms to it because fuck a life of being like the normals, of drudging through, and if he has to belong to this to do it then this is the price.
he sways, grasping the edge of the altar hard, and straightens. balance returned. max looks down a moment to place his feet properly, so as not to trip over the corpse at his feet.
“thanks.” there’s an edge to his voice as he addresses monkey, the awareness that the man has both helped him and fucked him again, but it’s mostly calm. shaken, maybe. distrustful. his ears are ringing. “so are we even, or do i still owe you...?”
there’s something that tells him that if the answer is the latter, he should press the issue. stretch his figurative legs again. force the answer he wants.
he pushes it down for now.
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Post by monkey on Jul 1, 2016 2:06:51 GMT
Monkey isn't an unreasonable man.
"If you want work in the future, then I'll be here. After you learn how to control that...thing." He makes looping gestures about Nemesis' head. He's not talking about Hashr, that would just be needlessly disrespectful. He's talking about the growing thing that spilled over when the void dragon entered the realm. The Calling that wanted nothing less than to consume all realities, in every realm. "Can't have you endangering my servants!" He says, as if he had not endangered them all by not shoving Nemesis into a bath.
This time, Nemesis is not pushed off the front steps by Monkey's servants. He carries a load heavier than when he walked in. That at least, is worth Monkey's acknowledgement.
nemesis /exit
reminder that u might wanna update renown req |
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