♫ contractors

[falsehymn]

❝But I tell you, do not swear
an oath at all:
either by Heaven, for it is God’s throne;
or by the earth,
for it is His footstool;
or by Jerusalem, for it is the
city of the Great King.
And do not swear by your head,
for you cannot make even
one hair white
or black.
All you need to say is simply 'Yes' or 'No';
anything beyond this comes from
the evil one.
—Matthew 5:34-37

Comments

[falsehymn]

( Sika Madu is in his humanoid form, behind the bar, apparently bar tending? wearing something simple and, unusually, black. He looks pale and a little tired, and the burns visible across his skin seem to be less severe relative to the ones on him last Tuesday (for those who saw him then), but seems to be in a generally good mood. Mikaela is on the counter in a black/black hair bow and bow tie ensemble, numming on an orange slice. Sika Madu will only be here for a little while, as he's quite the busy bee!

This post is more or less an easy meeting point for the PCs, per request. OOCly, I will actually not be here for much of the week, so Sika's gotta bounce before I gotta go! But do feel free to try to body him before then, he deserves it. )

[impacter]

[He'll slide to the bar in silence. He's already said everything he felt he needed to earlier today - there's no need to hash it out further. But to see how many people are down here visibly frustrates him.]

Are you pleased with yourself?

[falsehymn]

( hehe )

In truth, I'm quite anxious. But, what was it you said? So long as you don't give up, there's still a chance?

( They tilt their head. )

Would you like a drink?

[impacter]

[...]

No. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay clear headed right now.

[There's only so much overthinking of the details he can do. But he's not a fool. He knows what Sika has hanging over his head.]

[falsehymn]

It doesn't really matter.

( He smiles. )

You're rather upset for a man who hasn't been made to do anything.

[trollophoroi]

[ Here's Sadaniel, at the bar. Enjoy, as Sika Madu is liable to be only one to enjoy any iteration of him at all, including this one. He takes a seat and watches them for a moment before saying anything, ]

Did you know? Did you know what secrets everyone traded in this damnable hellhole?

[falsehymn]

Mmhm. I believe Man A attempted to mention this in passing, at one point.

( So it wasn't meant to be a secret! Or so Sika suggests. )

You seem quite whole. How does it feel?

[trollophoroi]

[ Had he? When? So much had happened in such a short amount of time... ]

As if a knife were in my gut, twisting. It is not a memory I am happy to have returned to me.

[falsehymn]

Would you like it gone again?

( Hard to tell if this is a sincere offer or not. )

[legendofthelion]

[She doesn't say anything she just glares at Sika for a moment.

The only thing keeping her from starting a fight is that she doesn't want to bring another scare to the rest of the dorm. Again. She's already risking one more painful stab to them as it is.]

[falsehymn]

( Sika smiles at her. )

Is something the matter? You did get your wish.

[legendofthelion]

Did I? Because more people dying sure seems to contradict getting home safely.

[falsehymn]

It may be possible to return them. Is that not identical to no casualties at all?

[desmomenos]

[He isn't much of a drinker, but a section of the church they used as their base had been converted to a bar, so he seats himself by the counter easily enough, although he keeps his legs crossed in front of him as his hands rest on his lap. Sika already called him here, so he'll skip any pleasantries.]

What's the significance of the roses?

[falsehymn]

All of them? They grow from me. They only began to grow when God came to resent me, I believe.

Did you want a drink?

( blood wine... )

[desmomenos]

[He shakes his head at the offer. Maybe if the occasion warranted it, he'd consider accepting, but as it is... well.]

I'm fine, thank you.

What will happen when enough of your roses bloom? You didn't explain what exactly would come after in your letter.

[falsehymn]

Ah, the black ones. Those require specific fertilizer. When enough have bloomed from the necessary garden, I will be able to draw the Witch's key.

With that, I will be able to take us through the door to the End of the World. You all ought to go home from there, and, by calculation, myself and Mikaela ought to be free.

[hjadningavig]

[ Dainsleif is, in fact, sitting at the bar, so it stands to reason that he will be here for the drinks. He's quiet for awhile, but notes the wounds that have somewhat diminished since then, as well as their current, unusual attire.

Also, he is patiently waiting his turn to speak until the others have finished their approach - preferably, after he's had some drinks. Nothing creative to ask on his mind, he supposes in the end...he'll settle for something simple. ]

You seem about ready for whatever lies ahead. Or, perhaps, trying to enjoy yourself a little before more of the storm?

[falsehymn]

If I had to define it...

( Sika will begin to pour him another drink, even though Dain probably shouldn't have more. )

... It's that you will all likely escape, and I will fail once again. But my chance of failure is a little bit lower than the times before. That's unusual, as my chance of failure usually increases with each attempt. There is some unusual factor in this repetition, and though I've yet to identify it, it is the first time in a long time that I've seen good news.

[hjadningavig]

[ Dainsleif probably shouldn't, but...he does have a stronger alcohol tolerance than most people. Which is also why he shouldn't, since it'll be easier to get out of control.

It's fine, though. He will take it whenever Sika is finished with it. ]

...It sounds unexpected.

[ He muses, thoughtful expression upon him soon enough. ]

Perhaps it is because you have others willing to think beyond the pale, but also outside of the box. Thus, it could be that we all somehow manage an escape in the end. I wonder what that would look like, for you included?

[falsehymn]

( Factoring in the effort of others, is it... )

... I try not to fantasize.

( Picturing her success when she only meets failure has lost its charm.

But, for the sake of answering the question... )

... But I'd hope to destroy Heaven, God included. Only then will I be able to resurrect Mikaela and my other children without Father's interference.

And after that ... perhaps I will finally be laid to rest. There is no further need for me to remain alive with all my debts repaid.

[laestrella]

[Don Quixote sits at the counter, her expression pensive]

...this is not what I believed you wished from me, when you asked me for my aid.

[falsehymn]

If you'll believe me, I didn't know I'd have to ask. It was Dehya's contract that lent me the influence to end the show early . . . but the black roses hadn't fully bloomed yet.

( So she'd either need more weeks, which means more murders per week... or just this week and another murder. )

The dead ought to be in a state where they can still be revised. You need not be overly troubled by the task.

[laestrella]

But that will not erase their pain or agony. [She's still bitter about previous happenings] I have experienced death and revival many times over. It does not trouble me. But it will haunt the others, whose deaths will linger like a spectre over their shoulder.

[She had seen it, in the halting moments just before death claimed them, before Dante rewound time]

And now you ask us to spread that fear and agony...it is a difficult thing to stomach.

[falsehymn]

I ask, but I shall not make you. I have asked you all because many of you have good hearts, and I would think you'd be happier to do it for a good cause . . . than leave it to someone whose hand has been forced by Father's rules, or some other divine intervention.

A kill will happen regardless. But I would prefer it be done with purpose. And if someone here does it, it can be done without needless cruelty or distress, yes?