![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Vergil's heart game r2
You feel weak, your body won't move no matter how you try, and you are falling, away from everything you know and love. Away from everything you need to accomplish. If you could just reach out, maybe you could hold on to it, claw your way back. But it's a useless endeavour, you fall unconscious, and your mind goes blank except for poetry and a familiar voice.
O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons?
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found,
For I am faint with travail,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.
My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath
Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, accursed mother, bring me into life?
You wake on the ground in a cave, cold, wet, and sticky. It smells of rotting flesh. Your objective is clear, but you can't recall a name or face. Nothing else about your memory of him is changed, but for some reason the name "Vergil" just won't come to you, and you couldn't describe how he looks if your life depended on it. But at least your body starts to respond to your will, slowly regaining enough strength to carry on.
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found,
For I am faint with travail,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.
My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath
Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, accursed mother, bring me into life?
You wake on the ground in a cave, cold, wet, and sticky. It smells of rotting flesh. Your objective is clear, but you can't recall a name or face. Nothing else about your memory of him is changed, but for some reason the name "Vergil" just won't come to you, and you couldn't describe how he looks if your life depended on it. But at least your body starts to respond to your will, slowly regaining enough strength to carry on.
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
The field doesn't want to allow you to sit up though. The grass has already woven itself around your legs to strap them down. Some of it pierces your flesh, as the bit creeping up your shoulder has done, working its way deep within. The ground around you is soaked with blood, and the flowers - they are much larger than they were before.
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
You don't have the strength to attempt escape, it's a pointless endeavour. Even trying to blink, it feels like all your energy is sapped. The grass grows excessively long to meet you, and every blade of it you laid on works its way into your flesh. It is, at least, only a few moments before it finally finds and crushes your heart.
You wake up in the cave again, cradled in the spindly, steel arms of half a dozen hooded, faceless, wraith-like creatures. Or so they appear. There's no life in them, no more than a statue holding you upon its lap not unlike the Pietà .
It sloughs away into nothing the moment you stand.
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
It's a terrible way to die and it doesn't help that he died out there all alone. The awakening is not exactly pleasant either and it takes him A Moment to realize these aren't actually alive.
But once he wakes up and has a few moments to regain his senses he's going to decide that fuck this shitty heart, he's going back to the field again and walk the exact same way as earlier.
Surely this time he won't fall asleep. ]
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
Well, I don't know what to tell you, man...but it happens the exact same way again.
This time when you wake, though, you hear a voice. Unfortunately it's reciting poetry just like every other time you hear it, but...
If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
[ He doesn't enjoy dying and he especially doesn't enjoy doing it in such a way. But here's the thing - doing it twice, and even having a voice call him out on it, simply proof that there aren't lasting consequences for doing so beyond, well. Painfully dying in a horrible way that he's not going to forget anytime soon!
And he's noticed that book caught on his spike. He might not give a shit, but [REDACTED] does. So he'll try again, this time, doing his best to reach and grab that book before falling asleep and dying horribly again ]
Re: PETRIFIED FIELD
This time...you feel a little sleepy, but it's easy enough to fight through. Third time's the charm?
But the moment you touch the book, you find yourself somewhere else entirely.