TEMPTATION OF ANGELS, which is named KHRYSAOR: A Heart Game (I)

[idolpro]

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CHANCEL LELI

[idolpro]

You do not drown.




You open your eyes to find yourself in a clearing; above the trees' canopies the stars glisten gently, and do not fall. They reflect in the ripples of water around you, their visages blocked by the occasional lotus flower. The pond you've found yourself is somewhat small, and most certainly not as deep the one you sunk down into as your way of making the journey.

Two figures stand a short ways away from the water, silhouetted by moonlight: a tall woman, and an even taller man, broad-shouldered and hooded. Among the flowers in this meadow, aconites bloom the healthiest, leaves and petals rustling to the light breeze.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[widenessofthesea]

[ she still coughs, because she ought to, and wrings herself out along the shore as her eyes adjust to the dusk light. ]

What is this place?

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

Both of them turn to towards you. The woman tilts her head a touch, as though interested but unsurprised, but does not answer immediately.

The man's voice is heavy as stone. Like stone, it is hard, but not in a way that is unkind—simply in a way that does not compromise itself for anything as irrelevant as social niceties.

"This is Chancel Leli."

On the air, you think you can hear something like a melody.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[widenessofthesea]

[ she turns her head slightly, like she might hear that song better—what is it? ]

Is there a girl—

...no, a sword. Is there a sword, here? Though she might not look like one.

1/2

[ninuanni]

You listen more closely to the song. And you hear it—an impossible melody, and nearly as impossible to describe, though if you tried, perhaps you would say this:

Hell is always with you.


You won’t realize that until you’re looking back—until you’re in a dark and empty time, a hurting time, a ruined and compromised time in your life. You won’t realize it until you understand one day that you’ve failed, that you’ve wasted yourself and your opportunities. Then you’ll look back and you’ll see that Hell was always there.

It was with you when you made excuses.

It was with you when you didn’t bother to care.

In your self-righteousness and your laziness and your willful stupidity; in your casualness with the things you cared about, in your willingness to give up your own good fortunes in order to hurt somebody else; in your pettiness, in your rushes to judgment, in every mistake you regret and will always regret.

God wasn’t with you, then, if He even exists. Cneph, the closest thing to God we have evidence of, the will that made the Ash and flame from nothingness—Cneph wasn’t with you. Not Heaven. Not the Wild, not the Rules, not even, probably, the Game.

In those times when you were your most petty and small and twisted, only Hell was there.

Hell is what loves you even when you’re wrong. Hell is what loves us even when we’re bad.

And it’s fire and brimstone and poison and rotting things, too. It’s a punishment ground and torment-realm at the base and bottom of the Ash. It’s corrupting the Fallen Angels, turning them into monsters, and the human souls that wind up there aren’t any too well off themselves. But that isn’t the core of it. That isn’t the heart of it. It’s just the price we pay to have something like Hell in the world at all.

For loving the monsters were the folk of Hell condemned.

For standing up for Caligula, for Pol Pot, for the tarantula hawk wasp ... did the Fallen Angels fall.

Therefore it is that we are never without our witnesses, no matter how terrible it is that we may be. We are never without something to look upon us and give honor to our suffering and our mistakes. We may tumble to the bottom of the Ash, forsaken of and by all other things, and still we will exist, and still we will not fall into the Not, because there is a Hell.

You may take that as a comfort or as a horror. Most likely it is both.

There are times in your life when you’d like to cradle despair against your heart, when you want the 𝓝ot, the nothing, the emptiness of the world, anything to stop the pain. And then it’s a cruel joke that you can never be alone, that you can never get away from Hell and its poisons and its flames. But there are also times when you are lost in the darkness, and longing for the brightness, and the goodness, and you cannot find them; and in such times, there is, at least, a Hell beside you in the dark.

It is the baseline of the world. It is the darkness that reaches upwards towards the brightness. It is the fire that longs to embrace us all. It is the final company for all of us, at the bottom of the Ash;

The work of Hell is holy, in this life.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

The pair don't answer you right away and instead wait for you to approach, a choice that could be considered either an indication of patience and discretion or else faintly bored indifference.

The woman speaks first, this time. Up close, you can see that her skin is olive-toned, but with a strange sort of sheen to it at certain angles, like starlight or like the way light refracts through morning new.

"Right, you must be one of Kiri's." She has an alto voice and with a tone set to "no-nonsense" as default. "I suppose she's taking after you, Harlowe, if she's bringing home Treasures."

You can definitely hear the capitalization, there.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[justfuckingtryit]

[First order of business: coughing up all that water]

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

You cough up all that water.


As you do, you see two people—or their silhouettes—turn to look at you, though their body language remains utterly unconcerned.

On the air, you think you can hear something like a melody.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[justfuckingtryit]

[He pushes himself back to his feet - glances toward the people]

...who are you?

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

"Huh. Looks like she brought home another one."

The man's voice is heavy as stone. Like stone, it is hard, but not in a way that is unkind—simply in a way that does not compromise itself for anything as irrelevant as social niceties. You can recognize him, actually: the man with the axe—the executioner. The one who had been called "Harlowe."

His comment had been to his companion, though, not you; both of them instead wait for you to approach before answering any further, a choice that could be considered either an indication of patience and discretion or else faintly bored indifference.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[widenessofthesea]

[ well, after you have some conversations with some... individuals...

wave wave ]

Warming up?

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[justfuckingtryit]

Yeah.

...you doing okay?

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[widenessofthesea]

Well, I'm damp and feel faintly disgusting but I'll live.

I think this is her home.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[beautifulend]

[ please hold they have to recover from uhhh

dangerous feelings. ]

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

The man and woman don't bother you; just watch you with what could be either patience or simply bored indifference.

On the air, you think you can hear something like a melody.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[beautifulend]

[ their ears perk up, trying to track the source. ]

This is...the chancel, isn't it?

1/2

[ninuanni]

You've heard this song before, in someone else's memory. And now, you hear it for yourself:

Hell is always with you.


You won’t realize that until you’re looking back—until you’re in a dark and empty time, a hurting time, a ruined and compromised time in your life. You won’t realize it until you understand one day that you’ve failed, that you’ve wasted yourself and your opportunities. Then you’ll look back and you’ll see that Hell was always there.

It was with you when you made excuses.

It was with you when you didn’t bother to care.

In your self-righteousness and your laziness and your willful stupidity; in your casualness with the things you cared about, in your willingness to give up your own good fortunes in order to hurt somebody else; in your pettiness, in your rushes to judgment, in every mistake you regret and will always regret.

God wasn’t with you, then, if He even exists. Cneph, the closest thing to God we have evidence of, the will that made the Ash and flame from nothingness—Cneph wasn’t with you. Not Heaven. Not the Wild, not the Rules, not even, probably, the Game.

In those times when you were your most petty and small and twisted, only Hell was there.

Hell is what loves you even when you’re wrong. Hell is what loves us even when we’re bad.

And it’s fire and brimstone and poison and rotting things, too. It’s a punishment ground and torment-realm at the base and bottom of the Ash. It’s corrupting the Fallen Angels, turning them into monsters, and the human souls that wind up there aren’t any too well off themselves. But that isn’t the core of it. That isn’t the heart of it. It’s just the price we pay to have something like Hell in the world at all.

For loving the monsters were the folk of Hell condemned.

For standing up for Caligula, for Pol Pot, for the tarantula hawk wasp ... did the Fallen Angels fall.

Therefore it is that we are never without our witnesses, no matter how terrible it is that we may be. We are never without something to look upon us and give honor to our suffering and our mistakes. We may tumble to the bottom of the Ash, forsaken of and by all other things, and still we will exist, and still we will not fall into the Not, because there is a Hell.

You may take that as a comfort or as a horror. Most likely it is both.

There are times in your life when you’d like to cradle despair against your heart, when you want the 𝓝ot, the nothing, the emptiness of the world, anything to stop the pain. And then it’s a cruel joke that you can never be alone, that you can never get away from Hell and its poisons and its flames. But there are also times when you are lost in the darkness, and longing for the brightness, and the goodness, and you cannot find them; and in such times, there is, at least, a Hell beside you in the dark.

It is the baseline of the world. It is the darkness that reaches upwards towards the brightness. It is the fire that longs to embrace us all. It is the final company for all of us, at the bottom of the Ash;

The work of Hell is holy, in this life.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

"Yes. This is Chancel Leli."

It's the woman speaking first. Up close, you can see that her skin is olive-toned, but with a strange sort of sheen to it at certain angles, like starlight or like the way light refracts through morning new. Her voice is alto, and no-nonsense, though there's something bone-tired in her too.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[widenessofthesea]

[ probably after you talk to some non-suspicious local individuals

wave wave. she looks faintly bedraggled. ]

Aria.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[beautifulend]

Hope! Hello.

[ they're fine. besides the fact that their tail keeps twitching like they're annoyed by something, anyway. ]

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[purrrnicious]

[Stretches with a lazy coil of her tail, immensely pleased to be here all nice and warm and dry and not drowned.

Then she makes her way over to the two figures, though as always she's cautious not to get too close.]


Hey. You.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[ninuanni]

Both of them turn to towards you. The woman tilts her head a touch, as though interested but unsurprised. Neither one of the pair answer you right away, and instead wait for you to approach, a choice that could be considered either an indication of patience and discretion or else faintly bored indifference.

"Looks like Kiri brought back another one." The man's voice is heavy as stone. Like stone, it is hard, but not in a way that is unkind—simply in a way that does not compromise itself for anything as irrelevant as social niceties.

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[purrrnicious]

[Honestly that's a quality she appreciates, lacking in social niceties herself. She rubs absently at the new plant growth she traded to humour her distaste of water and comes to a stop before them, well out of arms' reach.]

I brought myself, thanks. Who're you?

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[widenessofthesea]

[ probably after you have this very fine very chill conversation ]

...friend of Hellfire's?

Re: CHANCEL LELI

[purrrnicious]

[She's always chill.

Flat and dismissive and not encouraging further conversation:]

No.