selfpreservationist | [RAVEN'S HEART GAME

Entry tags:

ic,
imeeji

[RAVEN'S HEART GAME - SESSION ONE]

The first thing you hear is the sound of rain faintly hitting the exterior of the house. The soft pitter-patter is almost soothing, in a way, but it’s quickly followed up by rumbling thunder in the distance. You open your eyes, and for a second all you see is a flash of light--at first it seems like it’s lightning, but then you see something. A vision of a man dressed in rags, hunched over, waves of demonic power rolling over him. He howls, and something terrible starts to grow out of him: the bloody roots of a massive tree. An immense wave of panic hits you, and you can’t move, you can’t speak, you can’t breathe--

And then it’s over. It’s over. You’re fine.

The sound of rain returns. (This time it’s definitely soothing, compared to what you just saw.) You’re standing in the foyer of a mansion, a wide open living room in front of you. The door behind you is faintly ajar, leading outside.

[Powers are OFF. Make sure you’ve joined the discord channel! If you need to, you can ping me directly at haeralis#8694. Sign-ups are here.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It fits.

The arm disappears, and you hear a click. The trapdoor creaks open, revealing a staircase into the dark subterra of the house.

Do you head down?

Edited 2021-01-23 22:00 (UTC)

What, just sitting out here in limbo? What about at home, or the library?

[He'll take the one called Vergil and open it to read.

What's a privacy]

"I can't go in there." He looks a little sad, but resigned. "I'd like to go to the library... I just can't."

He glances at you for a moment, considering.

An infestation, if you will?

The book reads:

Ah, Vergil. My Heaven in Hell’s Despair. More of my tears have been shed over him than anyone else. On my worst days, I look at him and feel bitterness rise in the back of my throat. “You rejected me. You abandoned me.” I can think of nothing else, try as I might. On my best days, he is a joy. Sometimes I am filled with the overwhelming urge to hold him in my arms, weak as I may be, and kiss him. I want to tell him that I love him and that I will always love him. Pathetic, isn’t it? But that’s what I am, after all. I am my own man, but nothing will sever my connection to Vergil’s heart. I don’t want to be severed from Vergil’s heart, honestly. As painful as it can be, it is who I am. How I came to be. I don’t want to throw that away, even as I resent him and I cherish him in equal measure. Sometimes I hate that he wants me to be my own person, as it feels like just another way to push me out of his life, like he pushed me out of his body with Yamato. And yet, without that separation, I would never have come to know the man he is now. I would never have come to love him the way I do, if he did not push me. The more he grows, the further away from him I feel… and the deeper I fall for him. What kind of man am I, if not Vergil’s?

[Even though he doesn't understand exactly, he feels like he gets it. He knows the feeling, anyway.

He watches for a moment too.]

What is it?

[yes, he definitely heads down]

"If you wanted to... you could bring me something from the library. I think you could get away with that? I left my book there."

Further

[Cute. Putting that away to read Nero's.]

Of course. The one at home, or can I get to that old man's house? Which book was it?

The book reads:

There is something very romantic about the idea of nursing an unrequited love for the rest of one’s days, and if I live long enough to pine for the days of my youth, I’m certain the one thread of lost love I’ll still be clinging onto is Nero’s. I have never been so proud and so ashamed as when I am with Nero. Proud that I could be a part of his life, proud that I could be someone he trusts, proud that I could call such a man my son, proud that I can support him, proud of who he has become and the strength he carries. And ashamed that I have hurt him, ashamed that I cannot banish my desires, ashamed that I cannot push them aside and want what is best for him, ashamed that I prefer to call him my brother instead of my son in the vain, selfish hopes that one day that could be a boundary he would be willing to cross. But these are feelings I’ve accepted, more or less, because more than anything else I want to be there to watch him grow and thrive and live a long, healthy life. If there is one Sparda who deserves everything the world has to offer, it must be Nero. I’ll never forgive anyone who tries to rob him of that right. On my deathbed, if the last thing I saw was Nero’s smile, I could die happily… or I could push myself to live just a little longer. Just to see it for a few seconds more.

[well, this looks like a job for his kris dagger.

that he never goes without.

he's going to start slicing the roots as they approach him]

The boy looks around, and shakes his head.

"That old man's place is too far from here, now... anyway, the one I want is the one with Blake's poems. I put my initial on the cover. I think it's probably in the library."

The roots give way at first, and you are able to move a little bit, but soon they catch on and start winding even faster, determined to grab hold of you and keep you from moving.

Although it’s dark, suddenly you can see something shining just ahead of you: three shining orbs, hovering in midair, each one bearing a different sigil: talons, claws, and an eye. You sense there’s something powerful hidden within them.

If you use all of your strength, you can probably reach one. And you’ll likely want to do so--there’s someone, or something, sitting in the throne now. It almost looks like there are two large, hulking figures, sitting side by side. However, if you focus, you can only see one. But that may not be high on your list of priorities right now.

Its booming voice reverberates through you, and it feels like your very bones are rattling.

“PITIFUL THING. YOU WILL REGRET BEING BORN SO WEAK.”

The roots are growing tighter when it speaks, painfully so.

[Ah, that one. He smiles a little, and gets up from the seesaw carefully, so it doesn't just throw the boy to the ground.]

I can do that.

[...Tentatively, he pats his child self on the shoulder as he passes and heads back inside to go upstairs.]

Sentimental.

[He sets that one back and opens Dva's.]

The boy swings his legs as the seesaw moves, creaking with age and rust. He glances down at your hand for a moment and just looks at you.

You go back inside, and head upstairs.

The book reads:

I knew Hana was going to be someone special to me not long after we met. It was not the eccentricity, the bubbly personality, or even the gentle way she coaxed me out of my shell. It was the pain I saw beneath her smile. I recognized it as soon as I saw it: someone with a broken heart, just like mine. I think it only natural that I would gravitate towards that, towards someone who had suffered the kind of pain I’ve always held within me. But neither of us know how to heal our own wounds, and so I think we have both unintentionally caused the other even more pain. For that, I would beg her forgiveness. We both argue that the other one is the sun to our moon, but if she thinks of me as her sun, then I confess I am honored. I just hope I can live up to it, and help her shine the way she’s meant to. And despite our ups and downs, no one makes me laugh quite like she does. No one shatters my glumness like her. I come back to the question she asked me again and again… would I marry her, if I could? Maybe, if we can both find a way to heal. Once, she was my wife in all but name; the queen alongside whom I would reign in the Underworld. But that was a fantasy used as a tourniquet--something to stop the flow of pain coursing through both of us. Now, she doesn’t have to resign herself to ruling Hell, and I don’t have to resign myself to dying. It was uncomfortable to realize that I was using my own resignation as a crutch, and how it soured my feelings towards her. She deserves better than that. I deserve better than that. I don’t want us to rule over the Underworld anymore; I want us to rule as humans, side by side, in a human world that we can thrive and flourish in. She may not be my wife, but she will always be my queen.

[for fuck's sake, urizen.

he's going for the claws, asap.]

God, you're such a piece of shit.

[Uhhh this doesn't look like the upstairs he remembers.

Alright, first door is first, the second sure doesn't look like it would be a library, anyway.]

You are quite the romantic. But I imagine you will already be a bit annoyed at my prying.

[He sets that book down with all the same care as the rest and turns to inspect the chest. Can he open it?]

It takes a great deal of effort, but you make it. You touch the orb. A large shapeless mass forms in front of you, twisting and lurching until it settles on the shape of a large black panther. It lets out a low growl, tail splitting into two that grow sharp and jagged at the end. It turns to you and regards you expectantly.

Distract it for five seconds.

[he's off to try and get the cane sword.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 4 of 13

[RAVEN'S HEART GAME - SESSION ONE]

Re: THE CELLAR

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: THE LIVING ROOM

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: THE CELLAR

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: THE CELLAR

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: THE QLIPHOTH

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: THE QLIPHOTH

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: OUTSIDE

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: THE QLIPHOTH

Re: UPSTAIRS

Re: DOOR THREE - THE BEDROOM

Re: THE QLIPHOTH

Re: THE QLIPHOTH