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πΏπ΄π½π°π½π²π΄ πΈπ½π±πΎπ ;
ππ΄ππ. / π πΎπΈπ²π΄. / π πΈπ³π΄πΎ. / π°π²ππΈπΎπ½.
ππ΄ππ. / π πΎπΈπ²π΄. / π πΈπ³π΄πΎ. / π°π²ππΈπΎπ½.
ππ΄ππ. / π πΎπΈπ²π΄. / π πΈπ³π΄πΎ. / π°π²ππΈπΎπ½.
un; rogueleader
Like I said; divide and conquer.
If you want to split, or if you want to keep tabs, let me know.
un; dixon
Can't say I trust mine.
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un; just_rey
They said everyone came back who died in the fight, but I just want to make sure you're okay.
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Hi Rey.
I'm ok. I think. Alive, anyway.
So are you, I guess?
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un: t3cHg0d69; text
can i ask you something?
un: dixon
I guess.
I ain't still holdin if that's your question.
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this personal attack sdkgkfdg
muahahaha I hoped you would like it!
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[ action; before the sacrifices' return ]
Hey... you know what's going on with the others yet?
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At first, he just shakes his head, vaguely, like he's distracted. ]
We're goin' to find out. But it ain't happenin' fast enough.
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Can't get back to find her.
[ He's so tense that communicating at all is difficult. ]
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un: batMAN; text
You still alive?
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[ If a text could be surly, Daryl's is. ]
How's Carol?
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Action - tdm antics
Apparently the demons are dressing up in costumes now. Apparently itβs getting contagious. He finds out when one of the local demons corners him and then, when the flirting doesnβt go far enough to satisfy, shoved him into a wall and kisses him on the mouth.
Things get a little fuzzy after that. He loses the thread. Picks it up again when heβs staggering away - knife in hand, thankfully not in a goddamn costume - and promptly walks face-first into a wall.
So, his techβs glitching too. On top of everything. And itβs getting -
Hot. Hard to focus. Gabe drags a hand down his face, trying to slow his breathing down. His skin feels too tight.
Belatedly, he remembers to sheath the knife before he drops it outright.
Not good. Really, not fucking good.
He twitches. ]
What?
[ Heβs out in the open. Disoriented. And he thinks, but cannot tell, that heβs got someone watching. ]
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So he's in the hallway when he notices Gabe and he stops in his tracks when he finally sees that twitch that he was warned. Concern spikes in him and he's about to say something when Gabe rounds on him. ]
S'just me.
[ He catches himself before he asks if Gabe's alright, at least. Instead of insinuating anything he just steps in closer, cautious about whatever has made the other so jumpy. ]
What's goin' on?
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un:acorncookies; prepare for disaster (1/?)
(2/?)
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fin FOR REAL i'm a fucking parody of myself
me: hey why do i have like 10 notifs in my inbox-- oh
don't look at me
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10/7 - following Lilith's warning
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[ Daryl had only just heard and he isn't leaving anyone behind. ]
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post fog
And Daryl doesn't want to talk to her now, she knows. But the longer she waits without any sign of Rick, the more she knows she has to say something. She has to.
She tries to tell herself it's got nothing to do with needing some reassurance that Daryl's still around and kicking, too. Even if it's a brutal one. ]
is rick with you
please just tell me
[ They don't have to talk. She just has to know. ]
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No
Isn't he with you?
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Action - during the event
Earlier, he ran Daryl through the whistle code his team uses to communicate in the field. Sometimes their radios crap out, or get compromised. Sometimes there isn't enough time for words and they need a whistle to alert for traps, for threats in proximity, or to call for help. It's an old soldier's trick and they've shifted back into trusting each other - or at least they're getting there. Might as well put it into practice. Run drills when the stakes are lower. And why not scout out the area when they've got the opportunity? Gabe's not the greatest lock picker in the world, but he's got some training and he's got Daryl to watch his back, so it works out. Right up until they get into a room only to have the door slam shut behind them.
And now neither the door or the lock will give.
Gabe lowers his pistol, slowing his breathing down so he can scan the room. There isn't much in it. A familiar table. A shitload of knives. A drain in the floor. And a screen on the wall.
Ah. Torture room. ]
Okay. Guess they don't like us sneaking around.
[ He keeps his voice mild. He knew there was a chance their snooping could get noticed. Now they'll have to survive the consequence. ]
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Not like it does anything for him in here. He'd tried the door in the same way Gabe had and his shoulder is still laughing at him for it. He holds his crossbow in one hand while he feels for a light switch but when the lights come on, Daryl freezes.
Shit. This is not where they want to be. Not when someone clearly knows they're here. But it's the one display rack on the wall, covered in whips and switches and tools that Daryl doesn't even know the names of that sends his blood pumping and thudding in his ears. Panic crawls up his throat like something alive.
Someone knows they're here. They've walked into their own trap. Maybe it was a trap all along.
They need to get out of here. ]
We can't stay here.
[ Coldly controlled fear in his voice. Even knowing it doesn't work, Daryl slams the door with his shoulder again and curses when nothing gives but his own body. ]
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text; un: cheerqueen (1/?)
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done!
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Event shenanigans
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Someone contacted the house today.
[ She's never texted him before. But this is better. He can't hear how spooked she still is. ]
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Yeah. He got me, too. What a headcase.
He had no right scarin you. Sorry bout that, hon.
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Gabe's been trying his best not to think about that, actually. But life goes on.
He's wearing his armor when he knocks on Daryl's door, the rifle slung over his shoulder. ]
Daryl! You in?
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So he's actually in his room when Gabe knocks and Daryl tries not to let himself feel surprised to hear him. When he opens the door his heart jumps into his throat and he eyes that armour, on-edge and concerned all at once. ]
Yeah, what? Somethin' up?
[ He still can't seem to find his crossbow but at least he has his and Gabe's knives back. ]
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post-rorschach attack
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He's sittin up, movin around
Outside of the ear is back
but he still can't hear properly.
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He loses track of Daryl first. Which is a fucking problem.
Then he gets cornered. And it goes bad. There's a needle, and something injected into his neck that goes down smooth and almost sweet, like honey on the tongue. And when he wakes up, he wakes up wheezing, his lungs burning, and -
And, suddenly, flailing in water. ]
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Daryl dips low and approaches whoever it is from underneath, kicking up the silty bottom as he rockets for the surface and catches the thrashing form in his arms. He's expecting to be pummeled a little, that's fair in such a panic.
It's only when he gets him to the surface that Daryl realizes who he's holding. His tail beats the water hard, breaking the surface, an emotionally intense reaction that doesn't have a tail-less equivalent. Daryl hates that he's here, he's powerfully worried, he's so glad to see him, and all of that just comes out physically with a thrash of his tail and a bioluminescent shiver that runs from his neck all the way down his spine and arms.
But he can't say anything. His vocal chords were replaced with the heavy gills that frill up from his neck just behind his ears the day previous. He can only hold Gabe above water and hope that he recognizes the general broad shape of his arms and shoulders underneath all his new scales and fins. ]
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during the carnival
At least Daryl's smart enough not to go in without a reason. She doesn't think she can take having to throw knives at him while he spins helplessly suspended before her. Or worse, go through the fucking Tunnel of Love with him again. Maybe the ride wouldn't be so bad for them this time - a lot's changed, after all, and their relationship is probably the strongest and most solid it's ever been. But Carol's not taking a chance. Even if everything they'd said to each other was the truth, that doesn't mean it necessarily does them any good to hear it. If Daryl's keeping anything from her now, she doesn't want to know it unless he chooses to share it with her.
But apparently the carnival's tricks don't stop at its borders. They're walking quietly through the halls of the hotel together, a place that - while never truly safe - should have at least been free of the carnival's effects. Which is why Carol's not paying too much attention, and why she takes a few steps on her own before realizing that Daryl's no longer at her side. She stops, turning around, a look of confusion on her face that quickly turns to alarm when she sees the glazed, faraway look in his eyes. ]
Daryl?
[ She runs back to him, grabbing his arm, eyes instantly wide with panic as she shakes him, trying to snap him out of it. ]
Daryl!
brb laughing at how vecna-lite this set up is in retrospect
And there's Carol, a version of her he'd once known a long time ago.
Right away, he braces himself. He knows enough not to expect anything kind from whatever's about to happen. Whatever he's about to see.
They'd stayed away from the carnival (or Daryl had for the most part) because of exactly this kind of danger. It's one more rule of Hell that their caution never seems to matter, that the magic always finds them out anyway, even when they try to avoid the worst of it. Daryl just slips into the vision like he's stepped in a hole and he can't move, he's relegated to watching as Carol paces out farther and farther away from the little house, away from his view in the window but never quite out of it. With that girl. Lizzie.
But there had been two girls, hadn't there? ]
Carol?
[ He says it to the window pane even though he knows she's too far away to hear him. Judith gurgles, still months away from talking. ]
Where are you goin' with her?
[ He doesn't know why he asks. Maybe to convince himself that he was never actually there. That this isn't real. That he doesn't have a sneaking suspicion about what he's being shown. ]
LMAO
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voice; un: capncook (during the new event)
[ Something about his voice just isn't right. It's hoarser than usual and faint, like he's fighting just to get the words out. ]
Somethin-- [ There's a wet, hacking cough, and then a whimper. ] Oh fuck. Somethin's wrong with me, man.
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It just sounds... different than the last time he'd heard it. Noticeably. ]
Jesse? [ A pause as Daryl lifts the device awkwardly up to his face. ] What's wrong?
[ And then, because asking if he's okay is always going to be a stupid question here, he gets straight to the important part on any conversation in Hell. ]
Where are you?
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sorry this was so late! damn notifications >:|
lmfao your notifs hate me
dw hates us both
makes bets against dw (cw: child abuse)
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And he's assuming emergency. ]
Whats wrong
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It has been years now since Hell has been redone and made even greater than ever before. And you, my prized guest, have made it twelve months in your journey towards redemption. I know that there have been bumps along the way and we haven't always seen eye to eye, but I do wish to show my gratitude. Together, we will all leave Hell one day.
I have handpicked gifts specifically for you to commemorate this anniversary. I do hope you enjoy them.
Again, I thank you for all of your help in making Hell what it is today.
Yours,
Lucifer