isleofavalon | The Terrible, Horrible, Not-So-Good Morning

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The Terrible, Horrible, Not-So-Good Morning | OPEN LOG

WHO: Emet-Selch + anyone
WHAT: A series of public and very gruesome murders, culminating in a flashy fight between Emet and a generic boss NPC that destroys much of a street
WHEN: From the start of August to mid-August
WHERE: Camelot City
WARNINGS: Violence, death, gore, mutilation of corpses etc. I will not write graphic descriptions of these for threads unless you opt-in to these details.

BASIC BYSTANDER INFO:

The bodies of the dead appear mysteriously during the night and are taken down by Camelot's law enforcement before next sunrise. Those who manage to see the display/s before they're taken down will note they are hung up as a deliberate, increasingly gruesome spectacle [think the 'art' in the TV show Hannibal] as the days go on. It is not a sight for the faint-hearted. If you smell the result, you will in all likelihood throw up the contents of your stomach.

The FIRST WEEK simply involves a single body hung up on a lamp post or some similar, convenient archway/overhang, with one or two more dead bodies below it. None of them are particularly special and all are eventually ID'd as lower tier thugs with shifty reputations.

On the SECOND WEEK, the bodies turn into more...artful displays. Prompt no.2 contains a very basic description of each one. DO NOT click on the links below if you are sensitive to descriptions of corpse mutilation and gore.

1st. "The Puppet"
2nd. "The Blood Eagle"
3rd. "Long-neck"
4th. "The Keyholder"

For those who have underworld/crime connections, you may hear whispers of a local smuggling ring being thrown into chaos. Members are disappearing without warning. Some attempt to go into hiding and turn up again during the first week of murders, dead. Others are simply never heard from after they disappear. Witnesses babble of some dark-cloaked figure who bursts in to places believed to be safe hideouts and slaughters anyone who attempts to escape. Those who DID escape swear up and down they had the luck of the fae on their side.

Emet-Selch finally locates the ringleader in the middle of August and launches into a very public, very destructive pursuit whilst fused with his familiar. Other characters can try and interfere with the chase but he will ultimately kill the ringleader with the help of reanimated corpses of their own subordinates, possessed by some of the spirits of their past victims. After about half an hour when the Soul Catcher he is using expires, he will collapse from his cumulative injuries and be taken into custody by Camelot law enforcement.

For any other questions, please send me a PM to this account or leave a comment here!

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Slowly but surely, Hades relaxes under the attention. His eyelids eventually flutter open again. He still doesn't understand why Hythlodaeus would continue to want to see him after what he has just done. Isn't he so far removed from the Hades his friend once knew as to now be a stranger?

He doesn't deserve such friendship. He doesn't deserve such love.

The thought brings heat back to his eyes and a tear slips down his cheek, over Hythlodaeus' hand. His stomach complains quietly but he's grown used to ignoring it by now.

"Has anyone...given you trouble? For living with me?"

Knowing how quickly mortals are wont to lambaste the spouses of criminals, he's horrified at himself for not asking sooner.

Edited 2021-08-23 12:13 (UTC)

For Hythlodaeus, too, that tear burns like fire - but in a sense, it is... better to see this than Hades's played-up, self-destructive coldness. At least his crying is genuine, and however small, there is a road to recovery there. Gently, he wipes Hades's tears away, thumb caressing his cheek.

"... No. Not... as of yet. They... try to paint me a victim, misguided, under your control." His voice is quiet, pained at the sheer wrongness of that, and he bites his lip briefly as he lowers his eyes. "They... some speak of you as an irredeemable villain. Others laud you as a hero, saying that... that criminals deserve such deaths. That if the knights cannot do their jobs properly, mayhap 'tis fitting that civilians take matters in their hands."

The guard observing their interaction frowns a little at the comment about the knights but otherwise keeps silent. Meanwhile, Hades shakes his head vigorously, a helpless sob breaking out. What sort of ridiculous joke is this?

"I am...no hero," he rasps. "What manner of...of people would laud a mass murderer as a hero? I didn't just kill them - I tortured them. I made their ends...as exquisitely painful as I could in the little time I had."

The knights know this for he had freely confessed it all to them in the interrogation. He expects no leniency from the king.

"But you are misguided, you soft fool," he mutters, leaning heavily against the bars, into Hythlodaeus' touch. "Misguided for coming back for a murderer."

Hythlodaeus's hand trembles and there is an uncertain, frightened look in his eyes for a moment at the mention of torture. Even now, it is still horrible to think about and to reconcile it in his mind; not just the fact that Hades would do something like that, but the fact that his friend seems to be... unaware, willingly or not, of the impact such cruelty would have on Hades himself. To deny others humanity would be to deny it to oneself as well, in one way or another. The Hades he'd known would never do something like this, indeed, and Hythlodaeus's heart is heavy at the thought of just how much his friend has suffered to change so. He strokes Hades's cheek, seeking solace in simple touch.

"I have always been stubborn, Agesandros." He attempts a feeble smile but it fades quickly, replaced with a lost look. "Do... mortals dismiss one another so easily? 'Tis not in the nature of man to... do what you've done without reason."

His eyelids slowly shut once more. It almost seems as though he has fallen asleep if not for the way his breaths steadily continue.

"There are many mortals who kill for no reason bar the simple pleasure of it," he murmurs. "They kill because of the power given to them by fear. Fear lets them rule over the weak, grants them authority by virtue of simply being blessed with raw might. No other reason is needed."

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "They are not like us, 'Daeus. Their vices are many. Almost too many to make up for their virtues. With as short a life as they lead, they seek to cram as many pleasures into it as they can before they die. If murder happens to be the most expedient means of granting them, then..."

The fallen city of Sil'dih. The fraught peace of Allag. The hubris of the three great magi cities. Ishgard's holy war. Death, death, death, death, death--

Hades weakly lifts a hand and covers the one his friend has laid upon his cheek. "I hope you never grow as jaded as I. I hope you always see the best in them, in a way I no longer can."

Hythlodaeus listens in shocked silence. That can't... that can't really be right, can it? Even now, even after having endured such cruelty at the hands of mortals, he can't bring himself to believe that what Hades says is true, that viciousness is built into their very nature. It can't be so.

"I am sorry," is all he finds himself able to say. Though he is not quite certain what it is he is sorry for, that is what he feels - regret and sorrow for the state of the mortal world, and the fact that Hades had to deal with it for such a long time. Yes, it is a sad matter... and the feeling is not helped at all by the coldness of Hades's hand on his own, the weakness of his touch. If only he could do something for his friend, but there is little to be done for one who does not want to be helped.

"Agesandros," he murmurs, pleading. "You have not been eating."

He sighs. "I had one bite... Did you know a mortal body can survive almost three weeks on nothing but water...?"

But just because it can that does not mean it should. He's clearly suffering from the lack of sustenance, with barely enough energy to respond to Hythlodaeus. His hand is already slipping back into his lap, having no energy in his arm to keep it up.

"...But..." He struggles to sit up a little straighter, grasping weakly at the bars. "You want me to eat...yes?"

Hythlodaeus nods, looking both worried and relieved.

"I do," he admits, casting a glance towards the tray. Fortunately, it's not too far away from the bars; it seems that Hades has not bothered to move it from where it was placed when it was brought to him. And, with how weak his friend is, Hythlodaeus does wonder if he has the strength to eat at all. Perhaps he should help, but first...

"When was the last time you ate, Agesandros?"

"I..."

He frowns a bit, trying to think. The days have passed him by in a listless blur. He can't even be sure how often the prison guards change shifts. In the end, he has to shake his head.

"I don't know."

That's just about what Hythlodaeus expected, but it's no less concerning for that. He gives a barely noticeable sigh, reaching out towards the tray and taking a small piece of the bread and the glass of water - prison food is no great feast, chosen for the ease of cooking rather than anything else. But he has to start small in any case, given how emaciated Hades looks.

"I can help you eat, if you haven't the strength. I would imagine you do not."

He nods tiredly. He isn't in any position to complain about the food. His stomach would rebel at anything richer right now anyway.

"...I miss Felih's cooking," he mumbles. "I even miss your...ridiculous 'long bread'..."

He manages to sit loosely cross-legged, slumped over as though the weight of his upper body is too much for his spine to hold up. "Has he been taking care of you, 'Daeus...?"

That at least is a shadow of the Hades he knows - wryly affectionate, sarcastic but no less caring for that. Hythlodaeus gives him a soft smile, holding up the cup to Hades's lips; water helps prepare the body for eating, after all.

"... He has. Him and Irhya both. If it were not for them... I know not what state I would be in right now."

Yes, because his own carelessness means that he cannot be there for Hythlodaeus himself. Hades feels a stab of guilt as he leans forward to drink. Some of it dribbles to the side despite his best efforts and he half-heartedly wipes his chin afterwards.

"I should have been the one..." He starts weeping again, softly this time. "Please forgive me..."

Hythlodaeus panics slightly at the sight of those tears, reaching out for cup Hades's face again.

"What are you apologizing for, Agesandros?.. You know I do not blame you."

His voice is quiet and soft - aiming to soothe moreso than anything.

"You may not blame me...but you were targeted because of me. Then instead of staying by your side, I went and sought out those responsible...and murdered them."

That boy had the right of it: he should have stayed his hand. What had he been thinking? (He hadn't been.)

He turns his face to kiss the palm. "Will you forgive me again?" he mumbles.

It's not as though Hythlodaeus hadn't known, but this is the first time when Hades finally and fully admits his motivations for the gruesome killings. Somewhere deep inside, Hythlodaeus feels a pang of guilt - perhaps if he had been stronger, they needn't have died. But such thoughts are of no use right now, whether to him or to Hades.

"Of course," he murmurs, raising his other hand to stroke through his friend's hair. "Of course I will. I... miss you so terribly, Agesandros."

Blinded by pain, terror and anger, after thousands of years of being controlled and surrounded by bloodshed... no, he cannot blame Hades for his reactions, even though they are not without consequences.

Just a score of corpses to add to an already impassable peak. Hades still sees them in his nightmares. Being near Hythlodaeus had always seemed to stay them. Sleeping with his friend had granted him the first few moons of reprieve he had experienced in centuries. Having never realised that Hythlodaeus had been actively easing his dreams, Hades attributes it to being relaxed in his friend's presence.

His stomach growls again faintly and he looks tiredly towards the bread.

"Hungry..."

Maybe it is worth trying again.

That, at least, is a relief to Hythlodaeus - the fact that his friend at least seems to register his own hunger now should mean that he will be willing to eat even when Hythlodaeus is not here. He risks a small smile, reaching out to the bread to take a little piece and bring it up to Hades's lips.

"... Here."

He accepts the morsel of bread, chewing slowly then swallowing. In happier circumstances, he would be embarrassed at being fed like a child - doubly so with a stranger watching (although the guard seems to have turned aside at some point so as not to be directly watching them). Hades continues to eat for as long as Hythlodaeus feeds him, until the whole thing is finally consumed.

It sits heavily in his stomach. He would have preferred soup or porridge but this is all he'll get while he's in here.

"Will you visit me again? Before the king decides my fate..."

He cannot keep the hopeful note out of his voice.

"Of course," he whispers softly, trying to hold his tears back. How much he doesn't want to think about what Hades might be sentenced to... it's almost a strange thing to realize that it feels unfair if the king decides to decree that Hades is to die. It's supposed to make some manner of sense, and yet...

Shaking the thought away, Hythlodaeus gives his friend a smile, trying to focus on the present.

"If you would have me, I would visit you every day, Agesandros."

He nods, hand sneaking between the bars to find and squeeze Hythlodaeus' gently.

It's at this point the guard finally - albeit reluctantly - clears their throat and informs Hythlodaeus that their time is up and he will have to shorten the chains once more. Hades sighs quietly but retracts his hand.

"I will wait for you, 'Daeus," he murmurs. "[I love you.]"

The last words spoken in their native tongue so the guard cannot understand - at least, he hopes they don't.

Hythlodaeus smiles as he squeezes his friend's hand back - but that last addition actually makes him colour. Among the busyness, tension and dissonance of the last few weeks words of love (from Hades, most of all), feel utterly unexpected. For a few moments he's flustered, but then Hythlodaeus smiles again, bringing Hades's hand up to press a kiss to his fingers before the guard has to shorten the chains again.

"[And I, you. Pray remember that, Agesandros.]"

He stays near his friend for as long as he can, and it's with a strangely light heart that Hythlodaeus leaves when the guard gently ushers him out. Though there are still many things to overcome, it feels like the two of them are no longer alone - and that sense of unity makes all the difference.

Even after the chains force him to retreat back into his cell, he watches Hythlodaeus until he can no longer see his friend. Their absence leaves a pressing silence behind, but unlike before, he feels buoyed by their brief interaction. He has something to look forward to now, although guilt continues to eat at him in the back of his thoughts.

The next few days feel brighter. He starts eating again, gradually. Sometimes he waits for Hythlodaeus to arrive just so he can have his friend feed him. And soon enough, he starts looking a little more alive and a little less like a man waiting for the executioner. The situation does not allow him to truly forget that he is a prisoner, but his friend's presence reminds him that he does still have something to live for.

The day of his sentencing arrives. He is led out of his cell, heart thudding anxiously against his ribcage, to face a recently-recovered Arthur's judgement. He expects the worst. Yet, to his surprise, the king grants him some mercy for his part in Celliwig's defence. He is given a choice: assist the old man in the forest through his final days or be banished from Camelot upon pain of death.

It is an easy decision.

He is released after a curse is carefully laid upon him to ensure he does as bid and that he behaves throughout. Hades rubs his wrists absently, hardly able to believe that he is still alive. His eyes immediately attempt to seek out Hythlodaeus.

He's still somewhat emaciated and looks as though a good push would topple him. But he is at least standing upright.

"Hades!"

It's not exactly a push, but Hades does have to deal with Hythlodaeus, who throws himself at his friend, laughing and crying at the same time. It's probably unseemly, and some of those present give them odd looks - after all, how can this man be so happy about a murderer walking free? - but right now Hythlodaeus does not care.

"Heavens, what a relief..."

From the start this day has felt like slow torture for Hythlodaeus - awaiting the hearing, the tedious ceremony of Hades being brought before the king, because of course such things can't be done quickly, long readings of the case details... but it's finally over, and Hades is free. Hythlodaeus holds his friend tightly, as though afraid that if he were to let go he would disappear.

He rocks back on his heels, kept upright by virtue of how tightly Hythlodaeus clings to him. Awkwardly, he wraps his own arms around his friend and gently pats them on the back. What an odd feeling to be judged yet still freed...

"...People are staring, 'Daeus," he eventually says quietly. Although in saying that, he does not move to be the first to part from his friend.

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i just dont want to think about how many dehydration headaches emet is having

can't feel a headache if you're constantly having one /taps forehead

WORST LIFEHACK I'VE EVER HEARD OF

SUCH LIFEHACKS ARE COMMON IN THE POST-SUNDERING DAYS

techically all of sundering is a "life hack" (hack as in "cut apart" do u get it--)

IT SURE IS HACKING INTO MY FEELINGS RIGHT NOW

:")

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