#like how is nobody suspicious of iago????
Text
okay i am sleepy, so One more chapter 2nite, i think
those’re some bigass doors
me n elise goin in to ask for forgiveness, thank you elise for you moral support, best little sis. If only he had to forgive us because he’s our dad. cause 1) he’s not mine and 2) not even really urs since he’s basically a vampire rn
there’s the evil vampire laughter, right when we ask to be let in, gosh
how can he hear us through these bigass doors and across to the throne he’s probably standing on or something
time 2 say sorry even though i’m not. and GASP. NOBODY IS HERE. who was he talking tooo??????// a mystery (it was anankos)
Yes i did disobey but I’m not dead bc you need me as a pawn still. MARJ BABY IT’S NOT NORMAL THAT NORMALLY HE’D HAVE KILLED YOU FOR DISOBEYING sometimes i forget that even though Marj was removed from some of the worst of Garon’s abuse the whole ‘there is a genuine threat of death’ still does actually hang above her if she disobeys.
of course if I complete his mission successfully my crime will be pardoned in full, Huzzah. this camera angle makes me think now that “this is def anankos on the cieling saying this not garon”.
this is a very simple mission, to check out an abandoned fortress. no battle required or anything. easy enough. no problemo pops.
chattin with my sibss. I’ll be fine, Camilla don’t worry, it’s not like dad hired someone to kill me or anything. It’s just an abandoned fort! Everyone is suspicious bc lmao it isn’t like him to be....so lenient.....it’s cause he’s not. u guys are smart sibs. Elise is still a bit young to realize too. a good thing.. smack ur brother pff I’d say i’d love it if you came along as some assurance Camilla but nope
UGH IAGO. I HATE YOU
but yeah it’s a ‘test’ you siblings can’t help me out. how else am i supposed to die like the good little piglet i am
i AM part of the royal lineage just, u know.....not yours....or hoshidos....actually not even really of valla’s??? well how my hc’s work.....did mikoto ever use dragon veins....hmmm....i am a direct child of the dragon tho
he is at least not making me go totally alone. just with a man that is going to kill me. Gunter and Felicia are also here. the boundary between Hoshido and Nohr, a bottomless pit to Valla. it’s not really bottomless, no. whole other world
got that creepy otherwordly feel. Gunter you live in Nohr isn’t the sky always dark and foreboding. oh? there’s a way to go around tho? neat, can stash marj n azura’s future house there but also semi-near the canyon. good place for dragon flying training.
marj is like “it’s not dark and foreboding and this lightning isn’t scary! or maybe it’s just cause I’m outside for once” she’s so excited to be out and about aw my baby
we have a border treaty in the middle of a war
Marj doesnt want to fight, gotta turn back and report the place was taken over by Hoshidans. we don’t have to fight if we staaay. and of course, not that easy, Hans has to be terrible. THIS IS MY MISSION DON’T DO THIS i know u had orders to kill me and the hoshidans are a likely excuse to make it seem like an accident but buddy
“we should have tried diplomacy first! we weren’t sent here to fight!” i love her of course Hans was sent here to fight
you’re dealing with a half dragon
wasn’t how we wanted that to go
heyo Saizo. don’t call marj a little girl!!! she’s like 19
eeeey, sup Xander. and my sibs!! watchin from the sidelines, u know pops isn’t gon like this.
oh Camilla is very ruthless Marj
we did what we had to do let’s leave. where did Felicia like go tho, wait that’s actually adressed lmao Marj is asking it too “i’m sure she’s right behind us” mhmm......runnin off with Xander, there’s Hans “less talk more death” pf and Gunter falls thru to Valla
TIME TO DRAGON UP just witness my freaky dragon arm
Marj does not react 2 being able to do this i wonder if she REALIZES she’s transforming....knowing her.....she doesn’t
yup Garon sent him to kill her. Ganglari attempting to draw her down to Valla as well. god i hate this middle voices distressed noises. Lilith SAVIN THE DAY
YEAH WAIT THEY DO CONFIRM MARJ SAW THIS FORM INSTEAD OF THE BABY BIRD WTH Lilith.....you stayed bc i’m your sister. tho the closer watch may have been bc i was nice.
I don’t understand why she can’t return to human form, just get a dragonstone “i wont’ have you sacrifice yourself for me” it’s an annoying trend between blue haired golden eyed girls in this game. sacrificing themselves
aw yeah, tree house dragon vein. see, i don’t mind the multiple dimensions in this case. an interdimensional safe space is cool.
lilith ;;; not lonely as long as she has us
this is a LOT TO TAKE IN marj is feeling BAD. or at least. she’s trying to keep on top of it. but yes. getting out, garon trying to kill her thruu hans, lilith is a dragon, we’re in a different world...but of course she’s focusing on all the NEW :D so many questions and wondering about the new things, yeesh, i’m glad Marj actually sticks to canon in her excitability about new things.. Aw i wanna relax here but fine, let’s make sure everyone is okay.
“there may be soldiers lying in wait for you”
“i’ll be ready for them” ...mhmm, sure you will
so Lilith just opens the gate between dimensions, neat
everyone is gone except Rinkah who just fuckin CLUBS HER IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD, GOOD JOB MARJ, SHE EVEN YELLED OUT, GLAD UR READY FOR THIS ya ding dong
in her defense honestly she’s probably more overwhelmed than she let on to lilith.
okay thats enough for tonight i’m sleepy
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[HR] [HM] Angel 3-1-0-4: Assignment to Hell!
On the day of the interview I was terrified. I wondered why God had given me the assignment. But I was a pretty low-ranking angel. There were thousands of wings ahead of mine, and much stronger I thought. I am a wimpy nobody angel. Maybe that was the point. So I didn’t ask questions. I just wrote down the address and went looking for the fallen one.
There are many paths to Hell. I decided to go incognito and pose as a human. It didn’t matter which really. Satan took in all offenders signing on the dotted line. So I went to Vegas. He found me. He took me to the underground penthouse. I had a sensation that I was being lured to a place I may not survive. The darkness was a magnet that made you believe their was no way back to the light. I was terrified.
The first thing he wanted to do was show off his souls. He called them his prizes.
His greatest prizes, he kept in a 24 karat gold egg. “These are my babies,” he beguiled. I cursed God for this goddamn assignment. I wanted him to hear me and put me out of my misery. Jesus Christ! Why the Devil? No, I thought. I must keep a sense of humor about it. Levity, angel number 3, 104, levity. Maybe I should try and have some fun with this old bastard. Finally, I asked. “Your golden egg, who’s in it?” “Ooooh.” he said, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I better not be so obvious, I thought.
“But they are political,” I said.
“Some.” He replied, “I have leaders of men and a few extraordinary little Iagos!”
I could hear the souls bumping off each other in the egg, like steel pellets against the gold, making pinging sounds. The Devil meanwhile was holding it like a toddler hugs a teddy bear. Very weird. I began to take the opinion that I was speaking to a mental case. Maybe he had PTSD after the whole dropping out of heaven debacle. But I’m not a social worker. I’m just an angel with a pen, posing as a human. May I use my ego, arrogance, and stubbornness to do good rather than evil. Amen.
The Devil finally put down the egg and looked me up and down, like a hyena measuring its prey. His eyes were aglow with suspicion. I was weighted to my seat. I started to sweat. Finally he inquired, “Do you own a gun Mr. ? …I don’t remember you giving me a name?” Shit! I never thought of a name! I’m the shittiest angel-spy God ever created. Fuck it! I’ll play along!
“Angel,” I said. His eyes got small and squinty.
“Ah.” He said distractedly, “Angel”. Hide in plain sight, I thought. “Now, now, he said, “Enough of these games friend.” He walked around me stealthily and put his hot hands on my shoulders, “Who sent you?” The room was absolutely silent, except for one, extremely irritating, high-pitched note.
“You know who,” I said. He began to laugh.
“The old man keeps trying doesn’t he?”
“Yes, “I said, I guess he does. “ He goes on,
“Such a waste of strategic talent,” he said, looking out the window with his hands clasped behind him.
“I disagree,” I said.
“You! Angel number 3-1-0-4! Who the hell cares what you think!” He paused and grinned. “Yes. I knew who you were before you came in. He told me you were coming.” God is sure playing fast and hard with my chips, I thought. Talk about leaving an angel out to dry. Maybe I should join that new Martyrs Without Sacrifice union. Its very popular amongst us lower-angels. And with very good reason; none of us want to die again.
He peered peculiarly at me as if reading my thoughts. “You poor fool”, he said, “Ratted out by your own boss. He doesn’t seem very trustworthy to me. Perhaps you should entertain notions of a more palatable nature.” I was insulted.
“I don’t lead with my palate sir,” I said.
“Aren’t you a clever little word player!” He said. “What if I sent you down to earth.
To the wolves who know no other god but me! Do you believe your words can save you. They can’t. Words are commodities too now! Aren’t they?” I wasn’t sure how to reply to this. It was a good point, words becoming commodities. That’s been true from the beginning though, hasn’t it?. Finally I replied, “It depends on who’s holding the pen.”
“Humph.” Was his disgruntled reply. “You answer by the book,” he said.
“You manipulate by the letter,” I replied. And then dinner was served. A clear indicator that our discussion was about to continue. Not that I ever had any choice in the matter.
He seemed to cool a bit towards me. Suddenly he began to sound like a friend. Now I was really scared. “You know,” he said, “I’ve bumped elbows with many such as yourself, wanting to do good in the world, and all that eternally hopeful nonsense. But they always get tired, riddled with an unnecessary anxiousness and paranoia. Either they fall into my hands eventually, or I send in the doctors. I have all the time in the world, all the power, angel 3-1-0-4. Inmate of faith. How silly and ridiculous you are. You haven’t a chance in Hell!” He was trying to play me. My anger overtook me and I suddenly went insane. I lost all fear.
”NO!” I said, “You are the ridiculous one! You are setting up proving grounds all over the world. I have nothing to prove. I am stronger in that regard.” I found my sanity again when his eyes turned into glassy black orbs, directed at me homicidally. “You are running out of lives angel 3-1-0-4!” I answered calmly, How many do I have left?
“One! Rat!”
My next move would have to be carefully calculated if I was to do any good at all. But I needed a recess. What could I say to get it? “Sir?” I asked, Do you think I may be outmatched here?”
“Certainly you are outmatched. I am a god!”
“Do you always fix things to your advantage?”
“Always.” I prepared myself for a statement that was sure to illicit rage.
“Well, then perhaps you’re more of a cheater than a winner.” He turned his head with purpose, and glared. Then he launched himself at me. He put my throat in a vise, he whispered slowly into my ear, “You don’t want to f**k with me angel 3-1-0-4!” He let go slowly and got off me. He adjusted himself and finally said. “One day. One day.”
I was to stay in the guest suite. Luckily there were books. I would read a bit to get the devil off my mind. The lighting was excellent. There was a bath robe hanging on the bathroom door, inscribed in delicately woven red stitching; You, it said. I thought it was a little obvious, only to discover two more boxes of them in the closet. He’d apparently bought in bulk. I wondered who else had stayed here? It looked like it may have been redecorated numerous times. But this latest concoction was obviously designed by an interior decorator who’s only direction was, “gold, lots and lots of gold”. I found it tacky, but then who am I to think that I could afford an opinion. Angel 3-1-0-4, you are certainly in the shit now!
There I was in the guestroom of hell, reading Wuthering Heights. It seemed appropriate. Times are getting too dark, I pondered, turning off the 24-karat lamp. The light bulb burned out with singeing flare. Just as I thought, all wealth and no function.
I lay in bed trying to sleep. I saw something glide from the darkness. It was a little boy. He stepped into the moonlight. “Will you play with me?” he asked dejectedly. Glued to the bed, wondering if this was another of my host’s tricks, I finally said, “Ok.” He took out some toy cars and we bashed them together making loud crashing noises. He laughed and laughed. Then a loud whistle was heard, in a very commanding tone. “I have to go.“ he said. Then a look of vacant despair came over his face, as if his insides were dead. He held on to me in desperation, “Daddy doesn’t like to play unless he wins. Daddy never lets me play for fun. He pushes and pokes me and makes fun of me. He never leaves me alone. Daddy is scary. He looks like a wolf on the hunt. It makes me very nervous. Daddy says I’m next in line. I told him I didn’t want to be next in line. But he said it was my den-stiny. He gets angry and viscous if I don’t obey, like a monster. One time he called me a loser because I didn’t blow out all the birthday candles at once. He said all the other boys knew how to do it and I better get my act together if I wanted to succeed in this high-powered bizz-nezz world. But I just wanted some birthday cake. He’s always trying to show off in front of people. And then he tries to show me off. But I’m only five. Daddy always wins. One day though I will beat daddy so bad, that when the world hears daddy’s name, they will only think of me! Three cheers for the Mighty Conqueror! Everyone will bow down!”
His face went vacant again. He let go of my hand and walked backward toward the tall golden doors. Before he shut them, he turned and said vacantly, “Daddy always finds me you know. I always feel him beating inside!”
I shuddered for fifteen minutes straight. There was no way I could sleep now. Was it a child or a demon? Its eyes were so resigned to its darker fate, with not a sliver of light left. What had just passed? An apparition in chains, diabolical of mind? No rest is granted to this soul, I thought, and neither to the world he occupies.
The devil was in a chipper mood at breakfast. “1,347 souls since dawn,” he chuckled, “Its all too easy.”
“You keep track?”
“I always keep track of my trophies,” he said, resentfully.
“You have many.” I said.
“Many, many, many. From every background, all over the world!
“You are not brave enough without them?” I asked. He answered in his best demonic
tone, “I am the MASTER of the world.”
“Then why do you still need trophies?”
“Why do you still need air!”
“Is it that necessary to you?
“It is me.”
There was a long silence, as the last thought hung heavily in the air, begging a proper moment of consideration. “Who was the boy?” I finally asked. His eyes became fierce and suspicious, “A boy who should have done what he was told!” “Who is he?” I curiously asked. And then, horrifyingly, the devil was honest. “He is a split soul, damned into a doomed childhood. I recruited him when he was at his lowest, easily. He agreed to use all his vengeance knowingly, for my cause alone. I bought his soul and replaced it with a badger.”
“And the child?” I asked
“Sometimes the child gets out, but I keep him on the run.”
“I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard,” I said.
“Yes, Exactamundo, feel sorry! That’s what works! That’s what draws you into the web!”
“Not me.” I said
He lifted his head and laughed. “You played with him didn’t you?” He had me there. “Don’t feel insulted. The whole world played with him, and now hypocritically feigns shock at his rise! I called them all out by raising the greatest symbol of their money worship. Funnily enough, I didn’t have to work very hard to sway them towards absolute greed. There was no sport in it! Now they complain. They should have sought to save their own cheap souls, before digging their own graves. I am just a messenger.”
And then, just like that, I bored him.
“Well, angel 3-1-0-4, anything else?”
“No,” I said, “I have enough.”
“What will you do now?”
“I’m going to stay human for awhile.
“Good luck!”
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Any-time!”
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[HR] [HM] Angel Number 3-1-0-4: Assignment in Hell!
On the day of the interview I was terrified. I wondered why God had given me the assignment. But I was a pretty low-ranking angel. There were thousands of wings ahead of mine, and much stronger I thought. I am a wimpy nobody angel. Maybe that was the point. So I didn’t ask questions. I just wrote down the address and went looking for the fallen one.
There are many paths to Hell. I decided to go incognito and pose as a human. It didn’t matter which really. Satan took in all offenders signing on the dotted line. So I went to Vegas. He found me. He took me to the underground penthouse. I had a sensation that I was being lured to a place I may not survive. The darkness was a magnet that made you believe their was no way back to the light. I was terrified. The first thing he wanted to do was show off his souls. He called them his prizes.
His greatest prizes, he kept in a 24 karat gold egg. “These are my babies,” he beguiled. I cursed God for this goddamn assignment. I wanted him to hear me and put me out of my misery. Jesus Christ! Why the Devil? No, I thought. I must keep a sense of humor about it. Levity, angel number 3, 104, levity. Maybe I should try and have some fun with this old bastard. Finally, I asked. “Your golden egg, who’s in it?” “Ooooh.” he said, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I better not be so obvious, I thought.
“But they are political,” I said. “Some.” He replied, “I have leaders of men and a few extraordinary little Iagos!” I could hear the souls bumping off each other in the egg, like steel pellets against the gold, making pinging sounds. The Devil meanwhile was holding it like a toddler hugs a teddy bear. Very weird. I began to take the opinion that I was speaking to a mental case. Maybe he had PTSD after the whole dropping out of heaven debacle. But I’m not a social worker. I’m just an angel with a pen, posing as a human. May I use my ego, arrogance, and stubbornness to do good rather than evil. Amen. The Devil finally put down the egg and looked me up and down, like a hyena measuring its prey. His eyes were aglow with suspicion. I was weighted to my seat. I started to sweat. Finally he inquired, “Do you own a gun Mr. ? …I don’t remember you giving me a name?” Shit! I never thought of a name! I’m the shittiest angel-spy God ever created. Fuck it! I’ll play along! “Angel,” I said. His eyes got small and squinty. “Ah.” He said distractedly, “Angel”. Hide in plain sight, I thought. “Now, now, he said, “Enough of these games friend.” He walked around me stealthily and put his hot hands on my shoulders, “Who sent you?” The room was absolutely silent, except for one, extremely irritating, high-pitched note. “You know who,” I said. He began to laugh. “The old man keeps trying doesn’t he?” “Yes, “I said, I guess he does. “ He goes on, “Such a waste of strategic talent,” he said, looking out the window with his hands clasped behind him. “I disagree,” I said. “You! Angel number 3-1-0-4! Who the hell cares what you think!” He paused and grinned. “Yes. I knew who you were before you came in. He told me you were coming.” God is sure playing fast and hard with my chips, I thought. Talk about leaving an angel out to dry. Maybe I should join that new Martyrs Without Sacrifice union. Its very popular amongst us lower-angels. And with very good reason; none of us want to die again. He peered peculiarly at me as if reading my thoughts. “You poor fool”, he said, “Ratted out by your own boss. He doesn’t seem very trustworthy to me. Perhaps you should entertain notions of a more palatable nature.” I was insulted. “I don’t lead with my palate sir,” I said. “Aren’t you a clever little word player!” He said. “What if I sent you down to earth. To the wolves who know no other god but me! Do you believe your words can save you. They can’t. Words are commodities too now! Aren’t they?” I wasn’t sure how to reply to this. It was a good point, words becoming commodities. That’s been true from the beginning though, hasn’t it?. Finally I replied, “It depends on who’s holding the pen.” “Humph.” Was his disgruntled reply. “You answer by the book,” he said. “You manipulate by the letter,” I replied. And then dinner was served. A clear indicator that our discussion was about to continue. Not that I ever had any choice in the matter. He seemed to cool a bit towards me. Suddenly he began to sound like a friend. Now I was really scared. “You know,” he said, “I’ve bumped elbows with many such as yourself, wanting to do good in the world, and all that eternally hopeful nonsense. But they always get tired, riddled with an unnecessary anxiousness and paranoia. Either they fall into my hands eventually, or I send in the doctors. I have all the time in the world, all the power, angel 3-1-0-4. Inmate of faith. How silly and ridiculous you are. You haven’t a chance in Hell!” He was trying to play me. My anger overtook me and I suddenly went insane. I lost all fear. ”NO!” I said, “You are the ridiculous one! You are setting up proving grounds all over the world. I have nothing to prove. I am stronger in that regard.” I found my sanity again when his eyes turned into glassy black orbs, directed at me homicidally. “You are running out of lives angel 3-1-0-4!” I answered calmly, How many do I have left? “One! Rat!” My next move would have to be carefully calculated if I was to do any good at all. But I needed a recess. What could I say to get it? “Sir?” I asked, Do you think I may be outmatched here?” “Certainly you are outmatched. I am a god!” “Do you always fix things to your advantage?” “Always.” I prepared myself for a statement that was sure to illicit rage. “Well, then perhaps you’re more of a cheater than a winner.” He turned his head with purpose, and glared. Then he launched himself at me. He put my throat in a vise, he whispered slowly into my ear, “You don’t want to f\*\*k with me angel 3-1-0-4!” He let go slowly and got off me. He adjusted himself and finally said. “One day. One day.” I was to stay in the guest suite. Luckily there were books. I would read a bit to get the devil off my mind. The lighting was excellent. There was a bath robe hanging on the bathroom door, inscribed in delicately woven red stitching; You, it said. I thought it was a little obvious, only to discover two more boxes of them in the closet. He’d apparently bought in bulk. I wondered who else had stayed here? It looked like it may have been redecorated numerous times. But this latest concoction was obviously designed by an interior decorator who’s only direction was, “gold, lots and lots of gold”. I found it tacky, but then who am I to think that I could afford an opinion. Angel 3-1-0-4, you are certainly in the shit now! There I was in the guestroom of hell, reading Wuthering Heights. It seemed appropriate. Times are getting too dark, I pondered, turning off the 24-karat lamp. The light bulb burned out with singeing flare. Just as I thought, all wealth and no function. I lay in bed trying to sleep. I saw something glide from the darkness. It was a little boy. He stepped into the moonlight. “Will you play with me?” he asked dejectedly. Glued to the bed, wondering if this was another of my host’s tricks, I finally said, “Ok.” He took out some toy cars and we bashed them together making loud crashing noises. He laughed and laughed. Then a loud whistle was heard, in a very commanding tone. “I have to go.“ he said. Then a look of vacant despair came over his face, as if his insides were dead. He held on to me in desperation, “Daddy doesn’t like to play unless he wins. Daddy never lets me play for fun. He pushes and pokes me and makes fun of me. He never leaves me alone. Daddy is scary. He looks like a wolf on the hunt. It makes me very nervous. Daddy says I’m next in line. I told him I didn’t want to be next in line. But he said it was my den-stiny. He gets angry and viscous if I don’t obey, like a monster. One time he called me a loser because I didn’t blow out all the birthday candles at once. He said all the other boys knew how to do it and I better get my act together if I wanted to succeed in this high-powered bizz-nezz world. But I just wanted some birthday cake. He’s always trying to show off in front of people. And then he tries to show me off. But I’m only five. Daddy always wins. One day though I will beat daddy so bad, that when the world hears daddy’s name, they will only think of me! Three cheers for the Mighty Conqueror! Everyone will bow down!” His face went vacant again. He let go of my hand and walked backward toward the tall golden doors. Before he shut them, he turned and said vacantly, “Daddy always finds me you know. I always feel him beating inside!” I shuddered for fifteen minutes straight. There was no way I could sleep now. Was it a child or a demon? Its eyes were so resigned to its darker fate, with not a sliver of light left. What had just passed? An apparition in chains, diabolical of mind? No rest is granted to this soul, I thought, and neither to the world he occupies. The devil was in a chipper mood at breakfast. “1,347 souls since dawn,” he chuckled, “Its all too easy.” “You keep track?” “I always keep track of my trophies,” he said, resentfully. “You have many.” I said. “Many, many, many. From every background, all over the world! “You are not brave enough without them?” I asked. He answered in his best demonic tone, “I am the MASTER of the world.” “Then why do you still need trophies?” “Why do you still need air!” “Is it that necessary to you? “It is me.” There was a long silence, as the last thought hung heavily in the air, begging a proper moment of consideration. “Who was the boy?” I finally asked. His eyes became fierce and suspicious, “A boy who should have done what he was told!” “Who is he?” I curiously asked. And then, horrifyingly, the devil was honest. “He is a split soul, damned into a doomed childhood. I recruited him when he was at his lowest, easily. He agreed to use all his vengeance knowingly, for my cause alone. I bought his soul and replaced it with a badger.” “And the child?” I asked “Sometimes the child gets out, but I keep him on the run.” “I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard,” I said. “Yes, Exactamundo, feel sorry! That’s what works! That’s what draws you into the web!” “Not me.” I said He lifted his head and laughed. “You played with him didn’t you?” He had me there. “Don’t feel insulted. The whole world played with him, and now hypocritically feigns shock at his rise! I called them all out by raising the greatest symbol of their money worship. Funnily enough, I didn’t have to work very hard to sway them towards absolute greed. There was no sport in it! Now they complain. They should have sought to save their own cheap souls, before digging their own graves. I am just a messenger.” And then, just like that, I bored him. “Well, angel 3-1-0-4, anything else?” “No,” I said, “I have enough.” “What will you do now?” “I’m going to stay human for awhile. “Good luck!” “Thank you for your hospitality.” He mockingly chuckled, “Anytime! See you in Hollywood!”
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