TP - WEEK ONE CURFEW - OH GOD NOT THE CHURCH

[impacter]

free for all style unless otherwise marked, have fun

Comments

[trollophoroi]

As good as I need to be, should I feel the urge.

[ Well, they are stuck here. ]

Very well. If you can identify any of mine, I shall tell you the tale behind it.

[ ...and he will no doubt demand the same from Solomon later (unless they all black out before then, oops). Then, let the guessing begin! Three paintings that cannot be easily attributed to anyone else in the chapel adorn the wall in a row:

The first is of tall, slender, berobed silhouettes cowering amongst a beautiful yet burning city, stars falling from the sky above them.

After that, a silhouette with a large feathered cap and a cape, as illustriously dressed as the limited shape and palette can manage, gazing down upon yet another ruined city. Once more, stars... falling...

And finally, three silhouettes standing on the edge of a... cliff, perhaps? Beyond them, a world hanging in inky blackness, surrounded by stars. To the left, a slender figure whose stand displays shock, surprise, and to the right, a towering figure with a scythe, and at the center? A man in a tattered robe, arms wide, standing at the very edge of the supposed cliff.

None of these figures are similarly shaped across the paintings. None look quite like Fandaniel, either, considering he has not yet worn his original robe outside the dorm as of yet. ]

[impacter]

[me, an ffxiv player: i hate all these options

He incorrectly guesses a couple, to however much distasteful sneering Fandaniel may want to provide. Boooo, booooooooo. But his third guess has him pointing towards the first image.]

I promise, this will be my last attempt.

[trollophoroi]

[ but they're all such great options so good and happy ]

... [ Sir? ] Are you still merely guessing at random or do you actually believe that refers to me?

[impacter]

It's not as though you chatter much about yourself, so I'll never know for sure if you don't answer me. Or maybe I'll just have to keep asking.

[hee hee hee hee hee]

[trollophoroi]

[ Tch, so annoying, but he'll gaze up at the painting. He knows all too well what that is. It haunted his dreams even before he found out. Well, perhaps this will shut Solomon up. ]

That, you nosy little man-- [ Which is funny since Fandaniel is much shorter. ] --is the end of the world.

[impacter]

[Well.

That does, indeed, shut him up tight for a good few moments, expression growing thoughtful and distant as his eyes trace back up to the imagery. The sky falling like so many distant stars. How frightening a sight, to the normal man.]

Your world? Or one you only knew of?

[trollophoroi]

Would it puzzle you to know the answer is both? My world, but also not. My star's existence is a strange story.

[impacter]

Realms and times existing adjacent to one another isn't new, no.

But who's to say if that's what you truly mean? You do seem to like your mysteries.

[trollophoroi]

Hmm, in some ways, yes, I do mean that, and in other ways, well. That is not this story, but a story that came into being because of this one.

[ Meaning Solomon will not get the following story. Rest in pieces, old man.

Fandaniel steps closer to the painting, attention turned towards it and away from Solomon. He reaches up, running his gloved fingers over the figures, slowly, ponderously. ]

Before the world I know now, there was one before it. The same, yet not. A paradise where mankind could live for as long as they wished to. They played endlessly with their creation magics, making the most fantastic constructs and creatures, ensuring only those that suited the world they wished to see were allowed to be integrated into the wild.

It was perfect, or so my fellows would tell you.

[impacter]

[Where mankind could live forever, hmm?

...]

Man playing god by the blessing of one? Or in the absence of it?

[trollophoroi]

In the absence. God will not exist until man makes God, or so it goes. I suppose there is something poetic there, but mostly I find it tiresome.

[impacter]

Humanity does love to try and find explanations.

[Even if the explanation isn't based in pure truth. Even if they have to craft their world around ideals and stories and legends of things that never existed.]

I take it something tipped a balance to a different sort of change...?

[trollophoroi]

A reckoning always comes for those who think themselves above it, don't you agree? And so it did. That is what the painting shows. The Final Days... of that world, anyway.

[impacter]

...

An apocalypse of sorts, then. But not from a god? [How terrifying.]

Was it named truthfully? Did that turn into their end?

[trollophoroi]

I wonder... But! I believe it's your turn to explain one of your paintings. Besides, who doesn't love a cliffhanger, hm?

[impacter]

[He shrugs. Ah, well, fair enough. May Fandaniel enjoy his turn at some guessing!

The first image is such a deep blue that it almost turns to black, darker and darker as the image works its way down. There is no life breaking up the image, no other color. Only small blue lights that dance at the very top, and the figure at the very bottom, a silhouette barely seen, chained to the rocks.

The second image shows the icon of a sun, sitting amidst the ruins of what used to be a town. Buildings smoke, the silhouettes of bodies lay in the stone. The cliffs in the distance crumble into the sea, and the sky chokes with ash. The sun is bright.

The third image shows the deep purples and reds of a sunless sky, the shape of a massive castle far in the distance obscured in shadow. The hills lay littered with bodies and weapons. And even so, the majority of the image has been taken over by an enormous field of flowers that seems to stretch out like a drop of brilliant, iridescent ink in the grooves of the land, among the fallen soldiers, all radiating from a single point.]

[trollophoroi]

[ Fandaniel, unlike Solomon, does not guess at random. Rather, he takes his time, observing each, until he inevitably points at the one with the field of flowers. Flowers...

He isn't particularly fond of flowers, and yet, that one still draws him the most. ]

This one.

[impacter]

My, you get right to it. Alright.

"Victory Day" is what the demons call that image. A hope for peace and prosperity even during time of disagreement.

It's said to be bad luck to talk to any magic user from the human realm on the day of its celebration.

[trollophoroi]

And why would that be?

[ Fandaniel would think that talking to Solomon any day at all would be bad luck, but you know. ]

[impacter]

Because the war in question was caused by a human.

They say he marched his way into the court of the king of demons and made plenty of demands, requesting cooperation between their kind by demanding demon kind's obedience under his hand.

The king grew so enraged that a war ensued for seven days and seven nights, with the entirety of the king's army on one side, and the human on the other.

[trollophoroi]

[ Surely not. Surely the man is exaggerating. While the painting does indeed exist, how one translates it cannot be without some bias, even when it belongs to their own life, no? He gives Solomon a sidelong look, eyes traveling up and down the sorcerer, sizing him up a little more seriously.

Or could it be...? ]

This human sounds rather arrogant to demand such. What would be gained from it? Did he seek to claim their kingdom for his own?

[impacter]

Wars between the celestial and the demonic had always existed. But humans have never been participants. They were always underfoot. Collateral. Always seen as the party to protect, to tempt, to use. A mortal creation that turned on a different axis, one that would never understand the supernatural.

They would never be equals.

[His smile is light.]

Who's to say why that human decided what he did, though. He never touched the king, after all. Never the people. When his words spurred anger, he merely responded to the power of war in kind with his own. A stalemate of one against hundreds of thousands.

On the eighth day, he vanished. And in the place where he'd held his ground, the entire kingdom burst into bloom.

[trollophoroi]

[ Fandaniel just... stares at the painting, then slowly, so slowly, turns his gaze to Solomon. ]

You know, you could simply say you decided to bully an entire realm into leaving your precious little mortals alone.

[ It had to be him. The painting wouldn't be here if it weren't. Although that he could claim so much power as to fight such an army to a standstill... ]

But that does not explain the flowers, nor why you gave up and left.

[impacter]

Oh please, you can't let me play dumb for just a little while?

[Party pooper!!!!! He sighs.]

It's more complicated than that, and no, I didn't give up. I had a point to make, not a massacre to unleash.

As for the flowers? Mm... maybe I wanted to make sure it was left to memory for more than just the bloodshed? Who knows. I can't quite remember anymore.

[trollophoroi]

Play dumb? My, and here I thought you were merely dumb all of the time.

[ rude ]

Hm, I see. I can't say flowers would be my choice, but... [ Anyway. He merely has no liking for flowers. This place has far too many already. ] What was the point you had, then? Was I correct in guessing it was about your mortals?