לִילִית (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
idharlotry) wrote2018-12-16 12:08 am
idharlotry) wrote2018-12-16 12:08 am
(no subject)
[ You wake up in a hallway.
There's an ambient buzz in the background—the world around you hums, it's warm in the hallway and the ground feels as though there's something constantly thudding in rhythm, lubdub, lubdub. It's a little different from what you expected, isn't it…?
The walls look twisted and grotesque, circuitry lining a ribbed texture of walling, the floor itself sloped with notches as if a skeleton - as if this entire hallway were a ribcage with too many bones. There's the smell of rotting flesh, but there's nothing here but you.
There's the sense of someone watching you, but there's no one here but you.
There's a light at the end of the hallway, an open door that yields the sound of ambient chatter. ]
There's an ambient buzz in the background—the world around you hums, it's warm in the hallway and the ground feels as though there's something constantly thudding in rhythm, lubdub, lubdub. It's a little different from what you expected, isn't it…?
The walls look twisted and grotesque, circuitry lining a ribbed texture of walling, the floor itself sloped with notches as if a skeleton - as if this entire hallway were a ribcage with too many bones. There's the smell of rotting flesh, but there's nothing here but you.
There's the sense of someone watching you, but there's no one here but you.
There's a light at the end of the hallway, an open door that yields the sound of ambient chatter. ]
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There's nowhere to go but towards the light, right? Even if there were, that's where Nya is going to head, treading carefully. There are probably demons here. Right?]
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You enter the bar.
The walls seem to pulse, lubdub, lubdub, veins of light racing through them; from the ceiling are hanging wire boxes that look like hundreds of alien beasts twisted together, biting tails to form the chains in order to hold the glass - the same can be found on the walls themselves too, bottles lining up against the biowiring; the bar counter itself looks like a square jaw with two rows of teeth pressed together, made of not-quite-flesh not-quite-metal material that shapes like creatures forced to kneel, curl up and become pressed furniture. Impressions of horrified faces jut out on the tables, but they're not quite human faces either - they're too wiry and long or otherwise with too many teeth that are entirely too sharp, looking entirely too alive to be as still as they are. The people here, too - the bartender, too - are twisted wiring and bare skeletons, flesh raised unevenly like there are creatures just below the skin that twist and move as the people move.
The ambient chatter here is like computer noise, the uncanny valley of something robotic that sounds too close to human - or maybe something human that's been run through so many filters that it sounds robotic now.
There is one woman who defies the nature of this place: she is dressed to match the decor, spine nodes jutting from the back to highlight her posture - of course she doesn't slouch but she is relaxed, like a lioness resting before the hunt - but besides that, she looks normal. Well, not normal - she's beautiful, regal and elegant, but there's nothing besides fashion choices that makes her match the environment at all. She's already nursing a drink at the counter, seated on a skeleton block, and when she sees Nya, the woman lifts her half-empty glass of pink cocktail. ]
There you are.
[ She speaks pleasantly, looking amused. ]
Well now, don't dawdle. Come here, boy.
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Nya remembers his manners, of course! He approaches, not necessarily confident, but not overly cautious. After all, he'd been expected, and beckoned besides.
He gives a respectful bow of his head when he is nearer to her.]
Ah... might you be... Lady Lilith?
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You did your homework, how studious of you.
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[He couldn't know everything. Her demeanor or anything to that effect, but you know. This was it, this was the goal!]
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[ with a glance to the skeleton stool next to her, as if inviting him ]
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[He wished he were the sort to practice things in a mirror, but this was fine. He'd take the seat net to her as it is offered.]
I was wondering if you might be willing to tell me... What kind of things you would like to get out of our 'Production'? Since we come to you when we die.
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Nothing, really. This is just a favor.
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I see. Well.
Is there anything that I could do to... maybe make the favor more profitable to you? Is there some kind of favor I might be able to do for you, my lady?
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[He had... expected that she wouldn't even want to know his name, honestly??? Haha, self worth.]
I am Nyarlathotep, and I go by Nya.
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[ the bartender finishes stirring a drink for nya - it's pink, a fruity cocktail that's set in front of him ]
Go ahead. It's my treat.
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[You know, he knew about the fae thing about consuming things in their realm, but Nya had come here prepared to pay whatever price is necessary. He isn't afraid of what will happen, even if it's total annihilation. This is his own gamble...
So he graciously accepts the drink and takes a taste. He's never had an alcoholic drink before though so he will have no way of telling if it tastes off for alcohol!]
And ah, thank you.
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whatever that tastes like
it probably tastes like alcohol. ]
So it is. Now, just what makes you think that you have something to offer to me?
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If I'm honest... I had been hoping that there was something that you wanted from the idols. The others are unwilling to choose sides, lacking in the resolve to do whatever is necessary to make it in these 'games', but I'm willing to make a decision on what to do and follow through with it.
...I want to become a demon. At the end of this, or before, whenever. My goal here is power, and you are the most powerful entity that I could think of to come into contact with.
I understand the risks here, but I believe the rewards are well worth it.
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[ there's a soft laugh, and she sets her palm down onto the counter, perfectly flesh-and-sinew-designed manicures clicking against a skull rhythmically. ]
You haven't "graduated" yet and you've already made up your mind? Are you sure about that.
[ the question comes more as a command than just an inquiry ]
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[Demons who call themselves such are better any day than angels keeping secrets. Nya speaks with conviction, without even the clench of a jaw.]
Nothing would please me more.
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[ with the same sort of tone one says when they say 'i like this drink' or 'i liked that movie'. she offers her hand, palm down, as if to give him a chance to show his subservience. ]
Make a deal with me, Nya.
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As you wish, my lady.
1/2
When it does, you take a bow. You must, for the strings attached to your joints move you to your place. Your wooden body creaks as it moves, a puppet ballerina in front of the faceless audience; they and you are both captive to your own performance, as the music rises and falls to your own positions on stage.
This must be a dream, or something like that - maybe that thought crosses your mind, but even so, it feels real, visceral. You've never had wooden joints before, but you can still feel your muscles underneath the veneer; under your modestly cute outfit, deep in your chest, you can feel your still-human heart pounding, reverberating in your ears and your throat. It's the only part of you that you have left, with even the muscles on your face held prisoner to the invisible hand that orchestrates you.
Your performance is long; you strut, you dance, you mime when the show calls for it and then finally you bow, roses landing on the stage as the audience claps and cheers for you. The curtains close, leaving you in darkness; your muscles are worn, moved by someone else other than you but still suffering the aftereffects of a physical workout. Here, it feels as though you have a brief reprieve - the strings have slackened for you to relax -
And then, you can feel it. Your muscles begin to shift, flattening out and becoming stiffer; your blood runs cold, or rather your blood stops running at all, as you stop being able to feel your extremities. Feeling stops at your face, and you can hear the sound of creaking as your heart begins to slow, begins to creak, begins to petrify into wood. Soon, you are complete: a wooden doll, perfect and pristine, without life or a will of your own.
The strings grow taut.
The curtain rises once more. ]
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Lilith waits, letting the changes settle for a moment, before drawing her hand back. ]
Not bad.
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It takes a moment for him to steady himself before he gazes up to Lilith once more. That wad the one price he was most afraid to pay, and of course, but of course she would know it.]
...Wh-... What is it that you require of me... in return?
[He actually has no idea what he got out of this right now, but far be it for him to question her right now, as tears does the corners of his eyes. Too weak, not confident enough.]
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Bring me your dead. I tire of hunting you wayward idols down, you see. For that, I will give you power - protection. Under my wing, tragedies like this one won't be yours to bear.
[ with a brief gesture, one of the faces on the walls blipping into a mouth-sized television screen that surveys the entirety of Imeeji - the loss of color, the overlay of damage, the dazzling spirals of light. ]
I have enough pets to keep and I don't need a human one, but - hmm, we'll call this one a favor, won't we? Not many people impress Lilith, Mother of Monsters.
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As you wish it, so it shall be done, my lady.
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Now.
[ with a tap of her nail against the glass, the bartender already dispensing another drink and taking the empty glass away ]
I don't need to tell you what will happen if you tell anyone about this little arrangement, do I?
[ her hand moves up, palm tilted to the sky, before suddenly it twists and her palm faces downward, hand dropped and limp - as if to mimic a puppet limb being pulled, strings taut and then relaxed ]
You're a smart boy.
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Of course. This isn't something they deserve to know of, anyway.
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[ with a pleased tone ]
Do well for me, Nya, and I'll make sure you have a good position secured in the future. I'm looking forward to your performance.
[ and he, when he's ready, will be able to open up a door back to Imeeji with his newfound power - it doesn't let him go anywhere else but to one fixed location and back, and it will only let him and a dead body go through if he tries to bring any companions, but that's enough, isn't it? ]
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[He finishes his drink before he gets up to give her another respectful bow. He will just be sure to wait long enough to be sure that she has nothing more to address with him before he accepts the transportation back to Imeeji.
Thankfully, he's not planning on bringing anyone living along with him whenever he returns. This is more than enough for him.
Now, he's just got to prevent anyone else from trying to have a civil conversation with Lilith. Losing an eye is visible and gruesome enough, right? He's got his knife on him still, and so that will be the tool he uses.]