dev 10 - the man who sold the world

First, Eustance. "It is not my right to complain about whatever decisions that were to be made." Sophie claims. "I'd have not been upset in a world where my own life depended on such a thing."

Sophie, after-all, was the one who had failed in combat. It was her own failure, to have been captured, and in a sense her own, that her student Clancy Osshor had died.

Regardless of it all, instead of beating on herself, Sophie embraced knowing that her comrades were willing to put themselves on the line to try and rescue her. They came not once, but twice. Erika's words were a testament. It did not matter if she could reason with it, although,

"Eudocia informed me, and I would have been angry had they allowed it. Regardless, I found stability in knowing such things." Sophie claims. It was to Sophie's own judgement, and irrational behavior and yet Sophie understood it. It showed apart of what it meant to be an exorcist, and more.

The feeling of another exorcist helped draw her more and more to the moment. To freedom.

Moving on and maintaining that always rational part of her, Sophie nods. "I cannot forget that the managed to manipulate Francois. Eudocia Mimes never layed a finger upon me, or even attempted to harm me in any regard." Sophie claims.

"She was genuine, and yet, that is also the more reasoning to be wary."

Then finally, to Cristovan.
"There is every reason to be apologetic. My presence there, and my survival. I imagine it became a distraction, especially to you."

The was another part. Clancy. Yet thinking about him here and now. She felt the mental fatigue attacking with every word she spoke, and yet that though alone seemed to make her start sinking.
(Sophie cos Duran)

At the very least, they had her back. Though.. he imagines that this wasn't as easy as it may look like- and if anything, this had caused quite the turmoil to people as a whole, and perhaps some had returned wounded as well.

It's worth it though.

"I'm unsure as to just why they would spare you like that. I'd imagine that you would be getting tortured or otherwise have extremely bad time in captivity."

"But perhaps they intended to convert you or turn you into sleeper agent among us."

Or something similar along the lines. This, however, offers a bit more insight on just how these people function and what they're up to.

"It's good to have you back. Glad you made it."

Yet, a glance to the prison cell where Vasilios is. Hm.
(Nerin)

A soft smile passed through her lips, and she nodded.

"I imagine quite a number of people would have been angry - with me, in particular." She commented, eyes glancing towards Eustace before shifting back to Sophie. "I'm just glad you're free now. If you experience anything... Off, come find me immediately, alright? Just because you seem alright now doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet."

Get it? Woods? Witches? Erika was a verbal genius.
(Erika cos Salis)

Sands would bend around such a man with each stride, his grin crooked and filled with that same divine confidence. The very second such a group had walked into these cells, their intentions had been made clear throughout their struggles.

He would be given no sense of trial, he would be given no chance at redemption of which many sought to give. Sands swelling and building around such a man as they vibrated and moved in unison with one another. Where he would hold only that crooked grin, his sands would show all the excitement now coursing through his body.

"You failed. You lost." The voice of a killer having clung to the air with a heavy aura even about those words. One hand soon raising, invisible threads of mana connected to hundreds of grains behind him. Slammed against one another and sharpened to a fine point they would persist.

"You've killed and you've maimed, you've slaughtered and you stood by those who beckoned darkness to their call." One breath drawn inwards. "You're going to die. You're not going to live, you won't be allowed to take another breath." Those cell doors still shut close as the bars would do little to impede his target.

No, he'd gain no excitement from pulling such a filth from his confines.

"... Speak. Speak unto us Exarchs three your final words, so that you may be absolved of those sins which litter your soul."

Tilting his head upwards, faded eyes of Sienna locked upon him alone.

"So I may kill you."
(Eustace lux Salis)

"I was...fine."

He really wasn't. Everyone who knew him had known that he was not fine. He'd lost his mind, quite literally. The days, the weeks and months. He'd stared off into nothing and simply had not been alive. Yes he was not fine at all.

"I'm more fine now."

Once more he can feel the cool relief rolling over him. Though of course, what more could he say on it? They needed to do this. To finish this, and as that is the case he cannot help but to back off. Looking towards the prison it would likely greet the prisoner within.

Vasilios would see Sophie here, safer and more sound than ever before. And with a firm turn to that direction he approaches the cell.
(Cristóvan)

"..."

How quaint to be overhearing such things. Of the threats, of the confidence that was displayed when such things were spoken, but.. with all the things that happened in the past? He didn't have it in his heart to be this merciful anymore. If anything..

He's already grown terribly, terribly jaded.
For he lost his brothers, his close friend.

Even when it's not shown on his countenance, even when he seems to remain terribly impassive about the entire ordeal. Though.. while he examines Vasilios inside the cell, being swarmed by the sands in this way..

"..It feels like it was just yesterday. Back when I encountered him in the sewers, back when I was just a child."

"Or when I fought him and Ygor.."

It feels as if almost no time passed at all, and yet he's here already. There's only one question that Nerin was going to ask- one question that he was meaningto speak out, but never got the chance.

"I heard you in the crowd. Moments before everything became a haze to me- moments before I'd lose my mind.."

"Jasper was your friend too, wasn't he?"

"If so.. why do this? Why side with those that killed him? Why cater to their madness?"
(Nerin)

Erika's eyes widened, and that jovial little attitude she had carried was washed away with Eustace's words. Had she heard him right...? She believed she did. She crossed past Nerin, she crossed past Sophie with a hurried step.

"Eustace - no." She said, her tone firm. "You said no more!" She declared. "I won't let you personally do this."
(Erika cos Salis)

Cowardly. Even as the grains of sand swelled and formed into killing implements, he simply rose from his bed to stare and speak.

"Kill me here, and you die without truly besting me on the field of combat. I demand my death be honorable, just like Ravan's. None of those I killed died in chains."

There was truth behind these words, even now. Seeing Sophie meant that Moonfall had lost in some capacity, and any further attempts to recuse him were now moot. But he would not die in chains.

He turned to Nerin.

"Jasper was a target, one who I sought to fight again. That puppet wasn't Jasper. I tried to kill them when I had figured it out. Moonfall-"

There was a pause,

"...Moonfall is the only way to see my goal achieved. But I see now that I cannot rely on them alone. You may kill me here, but on my terms. On fairer turns. Unless you want to live out the rest of your days, knowing the two of you never truly beat me?"
(Vasilios Quinn)

Cowardly. Even as the grains of sand swelled and formed into killing implements, he simply rose from his bed to stare and speak.

"Kill me here, and you die without truly besting me on the field of combat. I demand my death be honorable, just like Ravan's. None of those I killed died in chains."

There was truth behind these words, even now. Seeing Sophie meant that Moonfall had lost in some capacity, and any further attempts to recuse him were now moot. But he would not die in chains.

He turned to Nerin.

"Jasper was a target, one who I sought to fight again. That puppet wasn't Jasper. I tried to kill them when I had figured it out. Moonfall-"

There was a pause,

"...Moonfall is the only way to see my goal achieved. But I see now that I cannot rely on them alone. You may kill me here, but on my terms. On fairer turns. Unless you want to live out the rest of your days, knowing the two of you never truly beat me?"
(Vasilios Quinn)

"Eudocia Mimes is strange between occultists, I can assure this."

Time in that place had truly been spent waiting. Where one might perform a murderous ritual on a whim. This one was something else.

Sophie was brought here, now witness to a coming execution. She does not complain, but instead steps back, slinking down against the wall, silent. She is unfocused. Though she maintained herself in the moment to speak, she became weak in some regards. To the extent, that when Cristovan turned, what he meant had simply flew right past her.
(Sophie cos Duran)

"... Clouded and ruled by delusion." His voice spoken in a low and calming tone. Even as he spoke his demands, nothing more than a shake of his head would soon follow. The snarl which spread across his features having spoken those feelings more than enough.

Erika and her pleas causing a second of hesitation, though still his voice rung clear.

"You're no man which deserves honor. When looking into the darkness, you are a mass which need struck down so light may thrive." Forcing those emotions to be pushed back, that hate and desire to scream all forced down.

"Though... You should know..." He'd soon begin, voice trailing with another shake of his head.

"You were never worth much to Moonfall. They'd wanted you back not as a person, but as a tool. They threatened our own believing we would waver, that us Exarchs would crumble." As the foundation of The Light fell alongside them, such a future wouldn't so much as pass.

"You deserved better. You needed better... I'm sorry you found yourself so lost in that darkness. Mayhaps one day you can see the brilliance of Light from the depths of Hel calling your name." He wouldn't reach the paradise of Avalon or even beyond, he'd suffer for the rest of his life.

This much, Eustace knew to be true.

"Ah... Erika. Just... He isn't someone who deserves to live." He finally spoke, gaze never tearing from this man.

"Speak... Speak your final words, cancer of Esshar."
(Eustace lux Salis)

She blinked. He really wasn't going to stand down, was he? Even as he offered forth that excuse to her, she stepped that much closer, brows furrowing.

"I said NO Eustace!" She demanded. "You promised me. As long as I was by your side, you wouldn't kill anymore. I even told you...." She trailed off, before she reached a hand out to pull upon his arm. "Nerin - Cristovan. One of them can do it, or the coward can do it himself," She muttered.

"Just not you. Not again. Please." She pleaded. She'd drag him away from the bars if she'd be able to.
(Erika cos Salis)

One of vengeance, one of achieving his goals.

This.. almost didn't make sense to Nerin, especially on the matter of Jasper. Had he been this determined to face against him again that he would even walk up to Moonfall like this? Perhaps, there's an entirely different belief system, but..

"..In the end, it was just a target for you."

"Unfortunate. I hope you had at least any other friend in your life- any other joy besides.."

"This."

His situation as a whole. Despite saying such words, the countenance of the Ivory Exarch remains so ever impassive in its nature, almost entirely devoid of any emotion spoken in this regard. For all that he says..

It still stung to remember these days of loss.
But he knew he shouldn't think of it anymore.

"And.."

"I can do it if necessary, Erika. I'll.. do right by it." A simple word, but..

Whatever that could possibly mean?
(Nerin)

Did he have pride? Yes. He held so much pride in him for things that were out of his own control. Defeating someone wasn't on that list.

To suffer defeat. To lose, to fall short--it never meant much to him in regards of tally marks. He didn't care about how many times he had been defeated before. Nay, he only cared about what would happen now.

He had been bested. He had been defeated, by Nemein. By Orsona. Moonfall had also been defeated. "You cannot rely upon Moonfall or anyone ever again." He won't speak that he deserves better. He won't give power to a source of hatred and dread.

But he does admit that the words between Eudocia and he. That much had been obvious that the man had no worth aside from being a weapon to throw at people. A weapon that, now, was jaded. Dull. Rounded. In other words? Useless.

"I wish. . things could have been different for you. I wish you could have found peace, lived with the ability to move beyond your strife. But that can't happen. So, if we are to die cowards. Let it be so."

"We will die Orsona, and you will die bewitched by evil."

A soothing embrace of death will exude from him now. It will fill the chambers with a billowing storm of red clouds. It will not be a simple death, nor will it be an easy one.

He will suffocate. He will burn and corrode, he will sizzle and he will decay into nothing for the clouds of rot that afflict him shall wither away at his bodies natural defenses in the worst way.

He does not possess time magic like Eustace but he has his own methods of clean up. Hair, skin, flesh and bone are not capable of standing up to such harsh poisons.

"Your story ends in the cell of the city you caused so much suffering. Rejoice, you've made your mark in our world."
(Cristóvan)

He'd sooner have died than allowed his ideals to be brushed aside.

Those eyes soon coming to a close as the voice of this woman echoed around in his mind. He'd made promises in which he spoke his intention of keeping, though when faced with such a conflict his morals and her words had only struck against one another. Much like a sharpened blade, she'd strike through armor and aim for his heart.

His mind having long since been made up on such an issue, his intentions never being cast aside to appease others. Even this woman he'd come to call his own, even she couldn't cause the inner-workings of his mind to slow at this point.

"He's a monster..." He'd soon begin. "Killer... Sulking in darkness..." His voice a low murmur with each shake of his head only forcing more of these thoughts to surface. Just as soon as his sands seemed to inch forwards, just as they pushed and began to swell at a single point?

Noxious clouds of a crimson would fill the cell of Vasillios. The torture, the pain he would soon go through?

Even a man such as he hadn't a need to be forced to such a fate.

"... I can't. He has to die." His words echoing alongside Cristovans own. His story would end behind those iron bars, he'd be given no honor and no pride to fight to the last bitter breath.

And soon enough..?

Piercing through clouds of miasma and the voice of Erika pleading otherwise?

Shaped in the form of an arrow a single golden bolt would fly free from his sands. He'd been given his choice it seemed, the slow death of those clouds or to remain still...

Having that single arrow pierce through this mans skull.
(Eustace lux Salis)

She held onto his arm tightly, but she should have known no matter how much she physically pulled those grains of fine sand would always obey Eustace no matter what happened. Cristovan's own poison and miasma entered the cell, and Erika was given a front row seat to something she always hated. Something she always loathed.

Death itself.

Her breath caught in her throat and she found herself unable to breathe, but even so, she tried to persist - to fight against that feeling of light headedness she felt take her. Darkness took to the edges of her sight, and that tug upon her husband's arm grew weaker.

"Eustace, no. Please." She begged, voice weak. Anyone but him. Anyone.

But as that golden bolt flew forwards free from those sands of his, she felt herself so far away and distant, and the hold she had upon his arm faded as her hands slipped away, with Erika collapsing to the floor and allowing that darkness to take her silently.
(Erika cos Salis)

The end.

There was no reaction. No, he simply approached the bars, death from the fog filling his lungs. His one remaining hand gripped the bars, allowing final words to be spoken.

"Remember, remember that we once lived."

He was a sufferer, who only knew that feeling. To live, to breath, and to die only for death. A death that was embraced as he fell into that mist, disappearing into nothing but the clothes on him.

His spirit would descend into the pits of Hel, his body taken into those pits and tortured. Much like in life, as so in death.
(Vasilios Quinn)

It almost feels like overkill. Despite feeling so, he didn't seem to particularly say anything in that regard for the time being- for where he nears the cell bars to grasp upon them, where he suffocates in miasma that steadily erodes his lifeforce away.. all that he can see is the man that attacked him in the sewers all those years ago.

The one that led his chosen-brother to demise.
The one who attacked Jasper.
The one who fought in war against them.

His arms cross while he observes the ongoing execution, though his gaze steadily shifts into a frown; for where the sand bolt pierces the man as well, he shakes his head to it. Perhaps, it was a way to send him to the stars quicker, so that he wouldn't have to suffer in this suffocating miasma, but..

"..There's no need."

"He's already done."

Such sudden decision, even after Nerin lost so much in the countless wars and encounters like these. What exactly prompts him to say that? Yet, he seems to simply await until the miasma dissipates, until the suffocating presence is no more, until the man is dead at last with additional injury..

And steadily, he steps over to the cell.

His hands reach out to Vasilios, if only to carefully adjust him upon the floor so that he could be taken later in a far more dignifying way- in a far better way than the man actually deserved for all that he's done. His palm drifts over Quinn's face, steadily lowering the man's eyelids to close his eyes.

"May you find peace in the stars."

It is all that he would say. Whatever was going on in Nerin's mind at the remembrance of the loss, at the memories of all that has already happened.. at the very least, he intended to let the man remain dignified in death.

Even if he didn't deserve it.

"It's over."

He slowly returns to the rest- no more words are said.
(Nerin)