[ xie lian had only briefly examined his own room when he finally figured out how to get into it, but he'd noticed something a bit odd in it compared to when he'd come in to hua cheng's room with him earlier.
now that he has a moment, perhaps it's time to investigate the room itself, and more specifically, the objects within, and that strange crystal draws his attention once more. there was a black colored rock in the package they were given, wasn't there---? he reaches into his sleeve to pull it out, and holds it in his hand, glancing at the one on the table. they're not exactly the same.... but the coloration is similar enough. maybe there's something to investigate?
xie lian reaches to pick up the crystal, and the moment it does, it starts talking at him.
gone is the brilliance of life, replaced by the sickly glow of malformed creatures - ] --Ah!
[ ???? he nearly bobbles the crystal, but it stays in his hands long enough to finish out its speech that i can't read because im blind but i'm linking here anyway.
he's been busy elsewhere, having happened to come upon the rooms later-- this is the first time he's found it, and given that he's a little more familiar with things like technology, emet-selch takes very little time to actually get in.
what he doesn't anticipate is the other occupant already being here, or hearing that familiar speech. the door shuts behind him, his arms folded.]
Really. Do you often go about touching things that don't belong to you? Not even a single day here, and my lowest expectations have sunk further still.
[he's. saying nothing at all about what just happened, simply holding out a hand for the crystal and fixing xie lian with a Look.]
[ oops. xie lian immediately clasps his hands together, still holding the crystal between them, and bows in a rapid apology, ducking his head. ]
I'm so sorry! I thought it might have been something left like the gifts... My own came outside of the room quickly enough, so I didn't even think it might have belonged to someone. [ at least he immediately hurries over to return the crystal to him, carefully depositing in his outstretched hand. ] I didn't mean to pry.
You must be the other occupant of this room, right...?
[haha, wow, the effect this week is- terrible. it's an enormous pain, and emet-selch has retreated to their room in an effort to avoid people as much as possible. xie lian seems polite enough that he hopes he'll be able to keep his distance...
when he enters, emet-selch is lying on the bed he'd claimed, arms folded behind his head. the purple crystal and the galaxy rock sit on the nightstand for now, and he's wearing his other outfit for a change (here, minus the mask and the pointy gloves, hood down.)]
Do try to contain yourself to your side of the room; I have been grabbed at quite enough for one day.
[ ah, yes. this affection thing has been very, very odd. as someone who doesn't tend to be...well, at least physically affectionate that often, xie lian has also been embarrassed more times than he can count, today.
he's returning back from meeting up with san lang in the evening when he enters, and when emet-selch addresses him, xie lian gives him a small, sympathetic smile as he goes to change for the evening, shedding the top layer of his robes and folding it neatly at the side of the bed. ruoye wriggles out of his inner shell at his hand as he's doing so. ]
You too, huh...? [ yea it's too much. way too much. ]
xie lian's got a little blood on his clothes from helping zuko and handling virid, so he's returning from rinsing them when emet-selch speaks up, and just suddenly feels so, so tired. ]
...mm. [ coming over, he settles on his own bed, setting his little shi qingxuan down with the fox pillow. ] ...I still have so many questions. What a terrible tragedy.
[ someone has officially been consigned to one of the couches in the lounge of the inn, because someone has spent entirely too much time shuffling around and trying to do basically anything but rest with his injuries, so.
hiya, emet-selch! if you're looking for xie lian, you'll find him with a pot of tea and a couple of mugs sitting on one of the couches, quietly looking contemplative though not really saying or doing much. he's finally gotten a moment of quiet after all of the chaos today, which... well, a moment of quiet is not always the best thing! so.
he doesn't even notice his immortal former roommate coming by, unfortunately. too lost in that head of his. hi. at least he's not in bloody clothes anymore.]
[he takes a seat on the couch as well, a slight distance from him-- and, well. from what he already knows, he isn't terribly surprised to find xie lian lost in his own head.
xie lian's out for a walk this strange evening, taking in the fort for the last few days it'll be here. it's so quiet and peaceful here, and the sound of the ocean is soothing - plus, the stars above here feel so much brighter than anywhere in the town. it's nice.
when he spots a familiar, very tall figure, xie lian smiles and trots over to join emet-selch, at a safe and not emotional sharing distance. ]
...Good evening, Emet-Selch. Did you come out here to think, as well?
[ well!!!!! we're back again. have another knock at the door, before curfew i guess? or maybe this is friday afternoon? i don't know shit, teej, it's whenever he's got a minute.
opening the door this time is xie lian, once more! this time he does not have a pair of funny animal pajamas, but he does have a tray, holding a tea pot and two carefully balanced cups. ]
[ xie lian comes to seek out emet-selch towards the end of the evening, as things are starting to wind down. finding him in the bookstore doesn't seem too surprising.
when he spots him over the shelves, xie lian presses his fist to his hand and bows in greeting. ] Emet-Selch. Do you have some time to spare?
[he has to get up and come over to the door to open it, with a couple squeaky protests from the two dinos-- both his and alyssa's are curled on one of his shoulders when he lets xie lian in, and as usual, he is tired.]
I suppose we really could have done better, though I cannot imagine what we missed on someone. [a huff of a sigh.] But she will have something to say about it, I am sure.
[ it's a little later in the evening after all is said and done! emet-selch will find that he's not alone if he's heading to the planetarium.
rather, xie lian's there, lying flat on his back, his hands folded on his chest as he stares up at the stars overhead. even when the door opens, he doesn't immediately have much to say. ]
[...well. even after their talk earlier, he supposes he doesn't mind xie lian's company that much; he does not settle right next to him, but takes a seat nearby, leaning back against the wall and looking up.
he's positioned himself with a good view of gemini.]
you realize as you come to that you are in a place that is ice cold. a tiny ghost fire flickers above your head, and you can almost feel its concern, as you muddy your way to where you are. you think to reach for this odd little ghost, so very powerful despite it's tiny size, but when you try to move your wrist, you realize that you are tied down to the altar.
a broken statue that you recognize as - as yourself - is behind the altar where you sit, and not only that, but faces stare at you, unblinking, from the temple floor.
"so similar," one says, softly breathless.
"it's...it's the exact same. you are... you are that prince?"
your heart squeezes. "i'm not..."
you don't remember how you got here, or why. but as you try to break yourself free, you hear someone scream outside, and it starts to come back to you - these are the ruins of xian le. the ruins of the crown prince's temple, and hundreds of victims of the human face plague stand outside, screaming and howling, chanting like crazed demons as the disease drove them out of their minds.
the crowd in the temple huddles together in terror. a parent covers the eyes and ears of their young child. "they're so close... what if we get infected?"
you start to twist against your bindings, starting to think, but the silk binding you to the altar must be magical, and before you can say anything, do anything, an ice cold hand pats your head, and it turns your blood to ice, to fire.
and you roar, "WHITE NO FACE!" at the top of your lungs.
you can't see him, but suddenly, you can feel him. he's seated right behind you, and you can hear him rustle as he leans forward, and puts a hand on your back to push you into a sitting position. you see his mask. half smiling. half crying, and though you thrash, and you thrash, you can move nothing but your eyes, and your neck. the white no face says nothing, and the plague victims outside scream, and scream, and scream.
"everyone!" you shout, trying to get their attention, "please don't do anything rash! the plague won't spread that fast - we still have time to think of a solution."
the people murmur amongst themselves, and for a brief and shining moment, you hope it will be enough.
but like cold water, the white no-face's voice washes through the room and turns your hopes to ashes. "There is a way to cure the Human Face plague."
"it can be cured?! How?!"
the white face turns to you, and muses, leisurely, "why don't you ask his highness? his highness knows the method. "
you feel your heart stop. one hundred eyes turn to you, and you flinch, but the white no face shoves you forward a little further.
hopeful voices pipe up in the crowd. "your highness, do you really know?"
"i've heard from somebody, he really does know!"
"if he knew, then why did the capital still...? his highness, he knew, but didn't tell anybody?"
"prince, please, hurry up and tell us!"
you deny faster than you've ever answered anything in your life. "i don't know!"
the white no face stops you, calm. "you lie."
anger stabs through you, and you fight, you struggle, trying to fight the white no face, but he will not let you, you cannot move, and you eventually grit, "it is useless."
the crowd murmurs their displeasure, and someone gets angry, leaping to their feet. "we're already on the doorstep of death, what is there to keep hidden? unless you want us all to wait here like sitting ducks, until we all die?"
the white no face speaks. his voice is gentle. "then, let me tell you."
"Be quiet!" you scream, no, no -
and the white no face continues, "Do you know what kind of people within the capital were the least likely to be infected with the human face disease?"
"...what kind?"
no, no, no, no -
"soldiers."
it's over.
"why is it that it's soldiers?" the white no face continues, "because they all did this thing. yet, this thing isn't done by normal citizens, and that is why the citizens are infected with the human face disease."
you want to scream. you try to lunge at the white no face, and he laughs, melodic, as the crowd murmurs their confusion. "what is it, you ask?"
he hums. the crowd waits on baited breath. you feel it all ending, as the white no face says, "Manslaughter."
shock ripples through the crowd, and you -- you feel terror, just for a moment, but you grab onto it. you grab onto their horror (and bury your own, heart pounding in your ears - once they figured it out, that that was how you became immune, one would kill another, and another, and another,) and you take it for a sign.
"See? Now you understand why I said this method is useless." you say, trying to stay calm and gentle, "Please don't act rashly, or you will play right into this creature's hands."
sound bursts forth from the temple, a cacophony of voices, a petty argument, and you try desperately to pacify everything you can, begging, stay calm, stay calm, we will find a solution, and someone yells, "why don't you think of something?!"
you shut your mouth, and desperately start to wrack your brain. you are clever. you have been in terrible situations. you will find your way out. you will find your way out, you will say the white no face was lying, you will prove it, somehow, you will -
an ice cold hand pinches your cheek, as if you're a child and you jerk. it shifts to cup your cheek, instead, and turns you to look at the crowd again.
and the white no face speaks. "who to kill? upon seeing this face, do you still not know who to kill?"
the entire world stops. the temple. the ghost fire bobbing above your head. it all stops, and when you glance down, you see the beautiful edge of a pitch black sword pushing out from your abdomen.
it is cold, bitter steel, beautiful as black jade, and it pierces through your stomach as if you were made of paper.
the white no face reminds, softly. "Did you forget? He is a god. Which means...he is immortal."
you feel the loss of the blade rip through you as the white no face pulls it out, and it hits the ground in front of you, in front of the crowd of desperate refugees.
blood rushes to your throat, and the ghost fire above your head rushes to you, as if trying to heal your wound, but all you taste is iron, and you see lights in your vision, hear yourself snarl,"You--"
and the ghost fire throws itself at white no face as if enraged, but the white no face catches it.
"take a good look." he says, to the ghost fire, and then grabs your face. "what about me? Aren't you the one that proclaimed you wanted to save the common people?"
you gasp, trying to reason, "but-- but--" and in the back of your mind, you can hear the crowd, over the pain radiating from your stomach.
"He really won't die?"
"Look, there's barely any blood.. he's still alive! he's still breathing!" - - you cough, hard, as your body struggles to heal itself - "So in other words, even if we kill him, he won't die?!" "That's great!"
"great?! what's so great about this?!"
"but, to stab someone, that's too..."
you lose track of their conversation; the white no face breathes at your ear. "the common people are here, waiting for you to save them. please. go ahead."
and you feel fury light you up like a fire, trying to fight back, screaming an insult at the white no face, who tsks, sighs, and you bolster yourself, pointing out the hesitance. no one has gone to pick up that black blade. no one will, you think. no one will.
the white no face shakes his head, and a scream erupts from the crowd.
"Silly child." he says, to you. "Stupid child."
the woman holding a child from the beginning looks in horror at her young child, barely five years old -- as black, horrifying sores in the shape of a human face sprout on his arm.
[ the woman holding the child looks at her husband. she looks at you. she takes the child's hand in her own, and so does her husband, and they walk over.
they pick up the blade, and all at once, lunge forward; it stabs into your stomach. pain explodes, excruciating, white hot from your stomach - it is in and out, as fast as can be, and you barely hear the woman's choked, tearful apologies.
what you hear instead is the white no face chuckling at your side. it hurts. it hurts, but you grit your teeth, and hiss "what are you laughing at?! you think you got what you wanted?! this was all forced by you!"
the white no face explains, slowly. "humans need force, to reveal their true selves."
another person steps forward from the crowd. he bows his head. once, twice, three times. he begs his apologies. "i'm sorry - i just got married, my wife, my mother, they're waiting for me, i'm sorry, i'm sorry", and he picks up the sword, shuts his eyes, and runs at you and you watch -
the blade glances off of your side and stabs in, white hot and brutal, but it is not fatal, the man realizes it, and chokes a panicked gasp, then lifts it out, and stabs you again, and twice in a row forces a pained whimper from your throat as you clench your lips together and blood streams from them, as you feel every death that is put upon you. steel scrapes bone. it is agony.
the memory seems to blur, as if pieces are missing, and refocuses again as someone says,
"you are the one who brought us this plague, aren't you?"
a beautiful kingdom, falling to ruins.
"you... you need to ask for forgiveness. right?"
horrified faces, begging you for help, as you fail them.
"you need to atone for your sins, right?"
the refugees step closer. they surround the altar. the white no face's laughing, crying mask stares at you, and as the man who speaks picks up the black blade once more, you stop breathing. terror grips you around the heart and squeezes, floods your veins, you can't speak, you can't breathe, and the last words out of your mouth are a pained, desperate -
"Hel--"
but it's too late.
the blade stabs into your abdomen.
it stabs you between the ribs. it stabs you in the heart. once, twice, three times, four, five, over and over and over, each puncture agonizing -- a scream tears out of your throat, but it never stops--
"don't let him cry out! let's get it done fast!"
someone grabs you and covers your mouth.
"stop cutting in line! it's my turn!"
hesitation fades to nonchalance. the blade stabs you in the throat, punctures through, and you choke and gurgle on your own blood, spurting free of your neck -
"it has to be fatal! heart, abdomen, or throat, nowhere else, got it?!
help me
"if you're not sure you hit him somewhere fatal, then do it again!""
help me help me help me help me help me
"no way! if you stab him twice, then where are the rest of us going to?!"
it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts ( your stomach, again, again, again, agony, a missed strike at your arm, shoved between your lungs, puncturing)
IT HURTS, IT HURTS (your throat slashed, the pain all you can see, all you can think, tears rolling fat down your bloody cheeks) why can't i die (turned to a bloody, unrecognizable pile of flesh on your own altar, you still are alive, you feel every pain, every agony, one hundred deaths) WHY CAN'T I DIE
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
w0, night one! yeet
now that he has a moment, perhaps it's time to investigate the room itself, and more specifically, the objects within, and that strange crystal draws his attention once more. there was a black colored rock in the package they were given, wasn't there---? he reaches into his sleeve to pull it out, and holds it in his hand, glancing at the one on the table. they're not exactly the same.... but the coloration is similar enough. maybe there's something to investigate?
xie lian reaches to pick up the crystal, and the moment it does, it starts talking at him.
gone is the brilliance of life, replaced by the sickly glow of malformed creatures - ] --Ah!
[ ???? he nearly bobbles the crystal, but it stays in his hands long enough to finish out its speech that i can't read because im blind but i'm linking here anyway.
...oops. ] What in the world...?
YEET
he's been busy elsewhere, having happened to come upon the rooms later-- this is the first time he's found it, and given that he's a little more familiar with things like technology, emet-selch takes very little time to actually get in.
what he doesn't anticipate is the other occupant already being here, or hearing that familiar speech. the door shuts behind him, his arms folded.]
Really. Do you often go about touching things that don't belong to you? Not even a single day here, and my lowest expectations have sunk further still.
[he's. saying nothing at all about what just happened, simply holding out a hand for the crystal and fixing xie lian with a Look.]
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I'm so sorry! I thought it might have been something left like the gifts... My own came outside of the room quickly enough, so I didn't even think it might have belonged to someone. [ at least he immediately hurries over to return the crystal to him, carefully depositing in his outstretched hand. ] I didn't mean to pry.
You must be the other occupant of this room, right...?
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w0, tuuuesday so we don't overlap the minievent
when he enters, emet-selch is lying on the bed he'd claimed, arms folded behind his head. the purple crystal and the galaxy rock sit on the nightstand for now, and he's wearing his other outfit for a change (here, minus the mask and the pointy gloves, hood down.)]
Do try to contain yourself to your side of the room; I have been grabbed at quite enough for one day.
[hi roommate. he's tired. what's up.]
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he's returning back from meeting up with san lang in the evening when he enters, and when emet-selch addresses him, xie lian gives him a small, sympathetic smile as he goes to change for the evening, shedding the top layer of his robes and folding it neatly at the side of the bed. ruoye wriggles out of his inner shell at his hand as he's doing so. ]
You too, huh...? [ yea it's too much. way too much. ]
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w0, post trial
emet-selch is, again, seated on his bed, the same little plush from earlier now sitting on the nightstand next to the galaxy rock.]
Well, if we never need to do all of that again it will be far too soon for my tastes.
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xie lian's got a little blood on his clothes from helping zuko and handling virid, so he's returning from rinsing them when emet-selch speaks up, and just suddenly feels so, so tired. ]
...mm. [ coming over, he settles on his own bed, setting his little shi qingxuan down with the fox pillow. ] ...I still have so many questions. What a terrible tragedy.
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w1, thursday pm
hiya, emet-selch! if you're looking for xie lian, you'll find him with a pot of tea and a couple of mugs sitting on one of the couches, quietly looking contemplative though not really saying or doing much. he's finally gotten a moment of quiet after all of the chaos today, which... well, a moment of quiet is not always the best thing! so.
he doesn't even notice his immortal former roommate coming by, unfortunately. too lost in that head of his. hi. at least he's not in bloody clothes anymore.]
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for a moment he remains silent, before-]
You will let it grow cold.
[a nod to the tea, there.]
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week 2 post trial!
xie lian's out for a walk this strange evening, taking in the fort for the last few days it'll be here. it's so quiet and peaceful here, and the sound of the ocean is soothing - plus, the stars above here feel so much brighter than anywhere in the town. it's nice.
when he spots a familiar, very tall figure, xie lian smiles and trots over to join emet-selch, at a safe and not emotional sharing distance. ]
...Good evening, Emet-Selch. Did you come out here to think, as well?
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[he exhales a sigh, leaning back against the wall, letting his head tip back to peer up at the stars.]
These days truly are exhausting. 'Tis enough to be maddening, at times, listening to us all go back and forth.
[which he helps with at times, sure, but what else is he going to do here.]
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w2, like monday
Emet-Selch, are you here? [ they do have some information to exchange, after all! ]
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[he makes his way to the door, opening it for xie lian, and will shut it behind him.]
I would say to make yourself comfortable, but there is little room for it here.
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1/2
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w2 post cyoa i swear to god
opening the door this time is xie lian, once more! this time he does not have a pair of funny animal pajamas, but he does have a tray, holding a tea pot and two carefully balanced cups. ]
...Emet-Selch, it's me.
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[he nods, not turning him away, though he still seems tired.]
You may sit, if you would like.
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w3 post execution!!!
when he spots him over the shelves, xie lian presses his fist to his hand and bows in greeting. ] Emet-Selch. Do you have some time to spare?
[ found you! ]
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[he gives xie lian a nod, and will allow him to come join him if he wishes to.]
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w4, post trial
he's heading out to check in with people a couple hours into the night, and one of those people is emet-selch, so. there's a knock on his door. ]
...Emet-Selch, it's me.
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[he has to get up and come over to the door to open it, with a couple squeaky protests from the two dinos-- both his and alyssa's are curled on one of his shoulders when he lets xie lian in, and as usual, he is tired.]
I suppose we really could have done better, though I cannot imagine what we missed on someone. [a huff of a sigh.] But she will have something to say about it, I am sure.
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w4, sunday, after all our role meeting stuff
Xie Lian. I have a name for you.
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xie lian immediately sets down what he was doing and nods. ] Alright.
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w7 post whatever that was
rather, xie lian's there, lying flat on his back, his hands folded on his chest as he stares up at the stars overhead. even when the door opens, he doesn't immediately have much to say. ]
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he's positioned himself with a good view of gemini.]
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yeets this mem in for backtags later
you realize as you come to that you are in a place that is ice cold. a tiny ghost fire flickers above your head, and you can almost feel its concern, as you muddy your way to where you are. you think to reach for this odd little ghost, so very powerful despite it's tiny size, but when you try to move your wrist, you realize that you are tied down to the altar.
a broken statue that you recognize as - as yourself - is behind the altar where you sit, and not only that, but faces stare at you, unblinking, from the temple floor.
"so similar," one says, softly breathless.
"it's...it's the exact same. you are... you are that prince?"
your heart squeezes. "i'm not..."
you don't remember how you got here, or why. but as you try to break yourself free, you hear someone scream outside, and it starts to come back to you - these are the ruins of xian le. the ruins of the crown prince's temple, and hundreds of victims of the human face plague stand outside, screaming and howling, chanting like crazed demons as the disease drove them out of their minds.
the crowd in the temple huddles together in terror. a parent covers the eyes and ears of their young child. "they're so close... what if we get infected?"
you start to twist against your bindings, starting to think, but the silk binding you to the altar must be magical, and before you can say anything, do anything, an ice cold hand pats your head, and it turns your blood to ice, to fire.
and you roar, "WHITE NO FACE!" at the top of your lungs.
you can't see him, but suddenly, you can feel him. he's seated right behind you, and you can hear him rustle as he leans forward, and puts a hand on your back to push you into a sitting position. you see his mask. half smiling. half crying, and though you thrash, and you thrash, you can move nothing but your eyes, and your neck. the white no face says nothing, and the plague victims outside scream, and scream, and scream.
"everyone!" you shout, trying to get their attention, "please don't do anything rash! the plague won't spread that fast - we still have time to think of a solution."
the people murmur amongst themselves, and for a brief and shining moment, you hope it will be enough.
but like cold water, the white no-face's voice washes through the room and turns your hopes to ashes. "There is a way to cure the Human Face plague."
"it can be cured?! How?!"
the white face turns to you, and muses, leisurely, "why don't you ask his highness? his highness knows the method. "
you feel your heart stop. one hundred eyes turn to you, and you flinch, but the white no face shoves you forward a little further.
hopeful voices pipe up in the crowd. "your highness, do you really know?"
"i've heard from somebody, he really does know!"
"if he knew, then why did the capital still...? his highness, he knew, but didn't tell anybody?"
"prince, please, hurry up and tell us!"
you deny faster than you've ever answered anything in your life. "i don't know!"
the white no face stops you, calm. "you lie."
anger stabs through you, and you fight, you struggle, trying to fight the white no face, but he will not let you, you cannot move, and you eventually grit, "it is useless."
the crowd murmurs their displeasure, and someone gets angry, leaping to their feet. "we're already on the doorstep of death, what is there to keep hidden? unless you want us all to wait here like sitting ducks, until we all die?"
the white no face speaks. his voice is gentle. "then, let me tell you."
"Be quiet!" you scream, no, no -
and the white no face continues, "Do you know what kind of people within the capital were the least likely to be infected with the human face disease?"
"...what kind?"
no, no, no, no -
"soldiers."
it's over.
"why is it that it's soldiers?" the white no face continues, "because they all did this thing. yet, this thing isn't done by normal citizens, and that is why the citizens are infected with the human face disease."
you want to scream. you try to lunge at the white no face, and he laughs, melodic, as the crowd murmurs their confusion. "what is it, you ask?"
he hums. the crowd waits on baited breath. you feel it all ending, as the white no face says, "Manslaughter."
shock ripples through the crowd, and you -- you feel terror, just for a moment, but you grab onto it. you grab onto their horror (and bury your own, heart pounding in your ears - once they figured it out, that that was how you became immune, one would kill another, and another, and another,) and you take it for a sign.
"See? Now you understand why I said this method is useless." you say, trying to stay calm and gentle, "Please don't act rashly, or you will play right into this creature's hands."
sound bursts forth from the temple, a cacophony of voices, a petty argument, and you try desperately to pacify everything you can, begging, stay calm, stay calm, we will find a solution, and someone yells, "why don't you think of something?!"
you shut your mouth, and desperately start to wrack your brain. you are clever. you have been in terrible situations. you will find your way out. you will find your way out, you will say the white no face was lying, you will prove it, somehow, you will -
an ice cold hand pinches your cheek, as if you're a child and you jerk. it shifts to cup your cheek, instead, and turns you to look at the crowd again.
and the white no face speaks. "who to kill? upon seeing this face, do you still not know who to kill?"
the entire world stops. the temple. the ghost fire bobbing above your head. it all stops, and when you glance down, you see the beautiful edge of a pitch black sword pushing out from your abdomen.
it is cold, bitter steel, beautiful as black jade, and it pierces through your stomach as if you were made of paper.
the white no face reminds, softly. "Did you forget? He is a god. Which means...he is immortal."
you feel the loss of the blade rip through you as the white no face pulls it out, and it hits the ground in front of you, in front of the crowd of desperate refugees.
blood rushes to your throat, and the ghost fire above your head rushes to you, as if trying to heal your wound, but all you taste is iron, and you see lights in your vision, hear yourself snarl,"You--"
and the ghost fire throws itself at white no face as if enraged, but the white no face catches it.
"take a good look." he says, to the ghost fire, and then grabs your face. "what about me? Aren't you the one that proclaimed you wanted to save the common people?"
you gasp, trying to reason, "but-- but--" and in the back of your mind, you can hear the crowd, over the pain radiating from your stomach.
"He really won't die?"
"Look, there's barely any blood.. he's still alive! he's still breathing!" - - you cough, hard, as your body struggles to heal itself - "So in other words, even if we kill him, he won't die?!" "That's great!"
"great?! what's so great about this?!"
"but, to stab someone, that's too..."
you lose track of their conversation; the white no face breathes at your ear. "the common people are here, waiting for you to save them. please. go ahead."
and you feel fury light you up like a fire, trying to fight back, screaming an insult at the white no face, who tsks, sighs, and you bolster yourself, pointing out the hesitance. no one has gone to pick up that black blade. no one will, you think. no one will.
the white no face shakes his head, and a scream erupts from the crowd.
"Silly child." he says, to you. "Stupid child."
the woman holding a child from the beginning looks in horror at her young child, barely five years old -- as black, horrifying sores in the shape of a human face sprout on his arm.
the human face plague. ]
this has no html bc someone replied to it so oops
they pick up the blade, and all at once, lunge forward; it stabs into your stomach. pain explodes, excruciating, white hot from your stomach - it is in and out, as fast as can be, and you barely hear the woman's choked, tearful apologies.
what you hear instead is the white no face chuckling at your side. it hurts. it hurts, but you grit your teeth, and hiss "what are you laughing at?! you think you got what you wanted?! this was all forced by you!"
the white no face explains, slowly. "humans need force, to reveal their true selves."
another person steps forward from the crowd. he bows his head. once, twice, three times. he begs his apologies. "i'm sorry - i just got married, my wife, my mother, they're waiting for me, i'm sorry, i'm sorry", and he picks up the sword, shuts his eyes, and runs at you and you watch -
the blade glances off of your side and stabs in, white hot and brutal, but it is not fatal, the man realizes it, and chokes a panicked gasp, then lifts it out, and stabs you again, and twice in a row forces a pained whimper from your throat as you clench your lips together and blood streams from them, as you feel every death that is put upon you. steel scrapes bone. it is agony.
the memory seems to blur, as if pieces are missing, and refocuses again as someone says,
"you are the one who brought us this plague, aren't you?"
a beautiful kingdom, falling to ruins.
"you... you need to ask for forgiveness. right?"
horrified faces, begging you for help, as you fail them.
"you need to atone for your sins, right?"
the refugees step closer. they surround the altar. the white no face's laughing, crying mask stares at you, and as the man who speaks picks up the black blade once more, you stop breathing. terror grips you around the heart and squeezes, floods your veins, you can't speak, you can't breathe, and the last words out of your mouth are a pained, desperate -
"Hel--"
but it's too late.
the blade stabs into your abdomen.
it stabs you between the ribs. it stabs you in the heart. once, twice, three times, four, five, over and over and over, each puncture agonizing -- a scream tears out of your throat, but it never stops--
"don't let him cry out! let's get it done fast!"
someone grabs you and covers your mouth.
"stop cutting in line! it's my turn!"
hesitation fades to nonchalance. the blade stabs you in the throat, punctures through, and you choke and gurgle on your own blood, spurting free of your neck -
"it has to be fatal! heart, abdomen, or throat, nowhere else, got it?!
help me
"if you're not sure you hit him somewhere fatal, then do it again!""
help me help me help me help me help me
"no way! if you stab him twice, then where are the rest of us going to?!"
it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts ( your stomach, again, again, again, agony, a missed strike at your arm, shoved between your lungs, puncturing)
IT HURTS, IT HURTS (your throat slashed, the pain all you can see, all you can think, tears rolling fat down your bloody cheeks) why can't i die (turned to a bloody, unrecognizable pile of flesh on your own altar, you still are alive, you feel every pain, every agony, one hundred deaths) WHY CAN'T I DIE
and then
everything goes black after that. ]