IC: EVENT

[bossman]

A TERRIBLE THING IS HAPPENING

reference books detailing myths and legends stolen from libraries...
wikipedia pages wiped clean from the face of the internet...
ancient stained glass windows smashed and destroyed...
historical research centers burnt to the ground...

Someone out there is trying very, very hard to erase all of the possible sources of power and belief of the ancient gods and goddesses. And it hurts. Whilst the powers of the minders are unharmed by the attacks, the gods and goddesses will be certainly feeling the toll: it's now painfully clear that even the simplest of miracles are now becoming almost impossible to perform.

deities, you had better have gifted your minders with some decent blessings! Because now you're going to rely on them more than ever. Someone is out to get you.

Comments

[seedbound]

[ There's a moment where Persephone looks around, seeming to consider the warning. Then she shrugs. ]

It's not my city.

[ And to be honest, she's not too fussed if a few feathers have to be singed, as long as they aren't hers. As for civilians dead, well... that's nothing new. There's an almost lazy wave toward Uriel's master minder. Sorry, dear. At least you might die for a good cause. ]

And a curse may mean nothing to you, Belial, but the Erinyes are coming. A curse in my name means they have your scent, and they will find you, no matter what happens here.

[ The first of the corpses begin to shuffle in now, skeletal hands pulling open doors. If her power were intact, she could make them move the way they once did, but she's already overdoing it. Belial says that the explosion may not do much to them, and it may not, but the power she is exerting may do it for him -- but she won't let it until after they have him. ]

And, of course, it now seems the angels are coming. If you have anything else you'd like to say, you ought to say it quickly.

[ More vines crawl, seeking out the explosives as best they can. Fire will consume them, but it's the most she can do about that, and mostly done as an afterthought. ]

[woefully]

[ Penthos moves, the wisps of guilt and conscious moving around all of them now — feeding Persephone and Ate in turns, looking to further pervade Belial. They curl about Eden Ignacia's ankles like smoke but do not touch her — she's not to grieve, not yet and not now. She has had enough of that in the past; Penthos knows because he can smell it on her, can inhale her past suffering off her like life-granting air. He turns towards the archangel's minder and tells her: ]

Set this place alight, and your house'll suffer the worst. [ He warns her, albeit in a neutral and almost disinterested voice. The artefacts held here were of a different faith than what held the Grecians aloft and while faith as a whole would suffer greatly at their loss, Penthos knows that he and his house would survive the blast in ways the Judeo-Christians may not. He doesn't know how well Eden can harness her powers or if she had intentions to start swinging at any moment, but tarrying and time would be a benefit and so Penthos looks to buy them some by tempering the situation.

In the end, it will hopefully be time enough for the angels to arrive along with the Erinyes; time enough for answers. ] Speak, Belial. While you still can.

[rashly]

[ With every moment that passes, Ate tries to find more cracks in Belial's metaphorical surface, more footholds and more ways to get in. She does her best to focus on doubt — Is this a good idea? Do I really want to do this? — her face twisting as she tries to focus. Still, she doesn't bother to speak, concentrating her efforts on doing what she can from the distance that they're at. (The others, after all, are doing enough to present elements of doubt. She just has to capitalize on them.) ]

[yokeless]

[ While Ate's influence of doubt initially seems to have little effect - Belial has never been more committed to anything in his long, black, so-called-life; this is his divine duty as far as he is concerned – the threat of the Erinyes leaves him visibly hesitant. He freezes, eyes narrowing at the heathen Queen as his smile slowly turns in to something colder.

The Erinyes. They were a threat that couldn’t be lightly ignored and wasn’t quite so stupid as to dismiss the threat of them capturing him out of hand. If it came down to it then he didn’t want to be sent in to their hands; he wanted his own kind. His own brothers, who had understood so painfully little of his motives yesterday but could possibly be persuaded yet.

The Holy Fire. It’s an uncomfortable pinprick of light in the corner of his vision as his gaze inspects the three deities and attempts to ignore the presence of the little mortal woman. It brought a particular silent crackle of godliness to the air which left his broken teeth tingling in discomfort and his anger flaring – no doubt exacerbated by the threat of those insufferably righteous upstanding brothers of his. Holy Fire could be battled, but the angels – they had collectively bested him once before, and there was a sinking feeling that perhaps they would do it again…

No. This was the heathen magic tricks talking. He refocused his gaze, tendrils of hellfire threatening to burst forth as he eyed the three (still ignoring the mortal) with new-found worry. ]

What, you want to hear me talk? Why should I talk to you lot? Get my brothers out here - and not those angel fucks. If they turn up I'll take out the whole city, you tell them that.

[exinferis]

You won't get the chance to.

[She sounded so blindingly confident, so painfully human. It might make someone in the room throw up. At least Eden hoped she was right. Being ignored was not a problem for her, it never had been.]

You might as well stay and chat, Bel.

[Among Eden's gifts. Aside from the holy fire and her gun, she'd been gifted with the ability to have premonitions - a leftover from her apprentice days left her with really strange dreams and cryptic flashes of the future. She could never truly interpret them till after the fact, but they did help sometimes.

Last night she dreamed of fire. Which largely accounted for her still being lit. Regardless of the plants. She didn't know who's fire it could have been - hers, or Belial's or what. She didn't know about the bombs. But there was no way she'd be the only mortal, unarmed person here.

At least until the archangels showed.]

[seedbound]

[ Those eyes narrow at her, and Persephone smiles. It's not a nice smile, not the smile of the goddess of spring or the beloved wife. It's the smile of the goddess of curses, a smile that promises suffering. The Erinyes are coming, and if he gets away from here, they will find him and tear him into pieces -- and Persephone is fully prepared to do as much herself, even if it kills her. It's personal.

There's a laugh to match her smile, cruel and cold, and it makes the long-dead warriors stand a little straighter. ] I hardly have any of them on speed dial. Your 'brothers' are ready to throw you under their heels and crush you for what you've done to them. Pride is a powerful thing.

[ Corpses shuffle in further, taking places in front of the exhibits. Perhaps their bodies will help preserve a few things, in case this place is blown to bits. ]