Death Emizel (
trademark_skull) wrote in
paixaorpg2012-08-09 01:09 am
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Except the ones who are dead (Open/Active)
Character(s): Emizel, some nameless corpses
Content: Just picking through some of the leftovers, if there happens to be any.
Setting: Ruins of Paixao
Time: Early-late evening to night, week 42
Warnings: Death doing what Death does.
Note: This is gonna be a thing for quite a few hours and possibly over a wide surface area. Therefore I'm gonna use a 'party'-style format for once. Feel free to pick a location and time.
The bustling city had fallen so silent now. Streets that were filled with noise and words were now buried under a thick layer of rock and steel. With only a few landmarks managed to stay standing the city looked nothing more than a barren wasteland, surrounded by broken walls. So eerie, so surreal, it could give almost anyone the creeps just by stepping foot in it. But that was exactly why Emizel had to be here. After all if something isn't done too soon, this place literally will turn into a ghost town. There was little he could do for those that were still alive and kicking, and there was plenty around who could handle that better anyway. But there must be a lot fewer that can actually 'treat' those that didn't make it.
It definitely crossed his mind more than once about how death actually did work here. Did everyone just go to their respectful afterlives or something? Did the castle somehow have one of those too? Did some of the things here even have souls to begin with? Although the further Emizel went, the less sure he was. He started to grip the scythe over his shoulder tighter each time he came across a new body. Crushed, bled to death, all of them died just about the same way. And the number seemed almost endless.
And this... all of this, it all could have been so easily avoided had he not been so careless.
"... I'm sorry," he choked and stopped fidgeting with the scythe so he could tug the hood further down, and not look at the sights anymore. He was supposed to be hunting down spirits, not bodies. They're not going to rest in peace otherwise, not in a hell hole like this. "So, so sorry."
Content: Just picking through some of the leftovers, if there happens to be any.
Setting: Ruins of Paixao
Time: Early-late evening to night, week 42
Warnings: Death doing what Death does.
Note: This is gonna be a thing for quite a few hours and possibly over a wide surface area. Therefore I'm gonna use a 'party'-style format for once. Feel free to pick a location and time.
The bustling city had fallen so silent now. Streets that were filled with noise and words were now buried under a thick layer of rock and steel. With only a few landmarks managed to stay standing the city looked nothing more than a barren wasteland, surrounded by broken walls. So eerie, so surreal, it could give almost anyone the creeps just by stepping foot in it. But that was exactly why Emizel had to be here. After all if something isn't done too soon, this place literally will turn into a ghost town. There was little he could do for those that were still alive and kicking, and there was plenty around who could handle that better anyway. But there must be a lot fewer that can actually 'treat' those that didn't make it.
It definitely crossed his mind more than once about how death actually did work here. Did everyone just go to their respectful afterlives or something? Did the castle somehow have one of those too? Did some of the things here even have souls to begin with? Although the further Emizel went, the less sure he was. He started to grip the scythe over his shoulder tighter each time he came across a new body. Crushed, bled to death, all of them died just about the same way. And the number seemed almost endless.
And this... all of this, it all could have been so easily avoided had he not been so careless.
"... I'm sorry," he choked and stopped fidgeting with the scythe so he could tug the hood further down, and not look at the sights anymore. He was supposed to be hunting down spirits, not bodies. They're not going to rest in peace otherwise, not in a hell hole like this. "So, so sorry."
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“Emi…” Eden whispered to herself, as she floated toward him. She gave a sigh as she reached out toward him. Touching his shoulder for comfort. “It happened so quickly, do not blame yourself for this."
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"I know, I know," he sombrely said. "There really wasn't much I could have done anyway."
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Eden walked over and started to use her magic to try and clean up to mess. Things slowly came back up to resemble. “Things that fall down, can be picked up,” Eden spoke idly as she worked her magic with clearing out some of the rubble, “It just takes a little bit of time and care.”
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"Even if you could put the whole thing back together again," he looked down and began to nervously grip the pole of the scythe again as he spoke. "It still won't be the same."
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The structure was almost completed, sparkles magical wind continued flow through her arms, as she continued to speak, “Mistakes can be mended over time. Though what damage was done, can be seen, it’s still has a chance to be whole again,” as the structure was finished, she covered her hands over the cracks, slowly healing them back together, “It may not be the same, but that’s what makes it stronger. One learns from mistakes, regrets, pain, and get back up again.”
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"Sure you can go ahead and repair everything. But the ones gone now, they're the ones never going to get another chance."
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She gave a soft smile to Emizel, “I never forget my old masters, even though they are gone. I made their wishes come true before they passed on, though not all of them we’re really ‘ideal’, but when you’re a genie you do your job.”
Putting the flower down, “So knowing them, maybe their wishes live on in others. Or maybe there are those that already had what they needed, instead of what they wanted. Either way, I do believe human nature have their own special way of carrying on.”
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"Had everything just played out a little bit different.."
Without noticing it right away Emizel had been turning it into his own fault again. It felt like a mistake that was going to possibly haunt him for years to come, and there was he could do to stop it. Other than to shut up now before he cracked again.
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Still, for all that Saïx didn't much care for the citizens, there was still the destruction itself and that was something that deserved at least a brief once over. Perhaps there would even be some lingering trace of what had brought the domes down in the first place, not that he expected to be that lucky.
As ever, he wasn't wearing the coat of the Organization, tempting though it was. Better to have it not known that one of their number was lurking around the destruction, even if people already knew who to blame for it.
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Emizel picked up pace to catch up to them, though this time being mindful about where he was walking. He could quickly tell that it wasn't a city civilian, which did explain a lot. Maybe it would be worth asking how much they knew about the state of the damage by the other gates and more.
Then all of the sudden he slowed down to a halt, still being a good number of meters anyway. Something just did not quite feel right now.
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He did make to approach Emizel. Not directly, at least. While he was perfectly willing to speak, he wasn't going to be the first to start a conversation. Not when the other was still a good distance away, although he did turn to look at Emizel. The rest would be up to him.
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And if the suspicion is true, it is best to be cautious. Not that it hurts to be anyway.
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He didn't ask for Emizel's name in kind. There wasn't much need when they were only strangers. If he wished to offer his, so be it, and if not... well, not like he could care.
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"Are you here to look for survivors too?" that 'too' wasn't actually including himself, but that happened to be the reason why others would come out here.
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"To see what is still salvageable."
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"Anything that could be still working must be at least three feet below with everything else."
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Whoops short again
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Even if it was all fake, created by someone else's memories, that place had been important to him--to both of them. If he could find just one thing to remember it by, then perhaps that would be enough. Maybe if he held on tight enough, it wouldn't disappear. His efforts might be futile, but still he had to try.
Krichevskoy heard a noise from behind him, stood, and turned. "Who's there?"
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Hey it was that other demon he met online awhile ago, the one that knew him. Fancy meeting him all the way out here. Then again, nothing should be surprising anymore.
"Ah, s.. orry. Was I interrupting something?" Emizel wanted to mentally punch himself in the face now for sounding that stupid. So much for trying to look dignified in front of another Overlord. All this depressing emotional stuff had been getting to him too much.
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"No, I was only..." He looked back toward the pile of rubble that he had only recently become used to calling home again. "...looking for a few items." It would probably be better to look sometime during the day.
Krichevskoy looked back at Emizel, catching sight of the scythe. "I assume you are here doing your job, young man?"
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"... Trying to, so far it's come up empty," the blade was lowered down as he frowned slowly, carrying it around all this time was getting tiresome. "I guess it only proves one thing about this place. Maybe I should try feeling a bit better about that."
He would assume Krichevskoy knew about the mess on the message board. It had been for all to see after all.
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"People are more resilient than you think. They will move on with their lives in time and build anew."
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"Maybe after we're all gone they can have their home back and this won't ever happen again," it was a nice thought. Of course if everything here was fake from the start, it's nicer to think that nothing was actually lost because it never really existed.
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"... I do. He's from the same universe as me."
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apologies for short!
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There's no excuse why this is late orz
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