BUT WHEN YOU FIGHT, YOU'LL FIGHT ALONE.

CAN YOU OPEN YOUR EYES? SEE THE BLOOD'S ON THE GROUND? CAN'T YOU HEAR THEM CALLING OUT?

WHEN THE BLOOD WASHES OVER ME, GOD I HOPE IT CAN WASH THIS BLOOD FROM MY HANDS.

It is bearing down on me.

[ drying his wings of blood. scouting gluttony gets fairly... messy. ]

You are agony. A numbing arm. A parched throat. An open wound. Your soul forced back into existence. ‘I love you.’

fear and adrenaline guide you, now. this is the path — the only plausible path, really — that you can pave. this /is/ you, now, and you have to stick with it. the archangel treads with shaky hooves to the foot of the stairs.

Now listen to me young angel. I am talking directly into your ear now. I need you to do me a favor. You will do this for me. I need you to go to the cabin and I need you to tell the bastard narrating there that you're freeing the Princess. If you come back emptyhanded you'll be in big trouble. You'l

[ standing up from the computer ] i ddon't think i can play this game anymore

(( Trexx Lied. She got One new thing

you made it this far. you have to get up.

(( anyway. beat the game once. i think i accidently got, like, most of the new content right away. oops

(( HIHIHIHIHIHI

Turn from the ruin. Turn and go *forward*.

BUT EACH OF US WAS BORN TO DIE.

like a spark hitting gasoline, his hands clench; his porcelain arm is somehow revealed, here, and the tension he manifests forces a slight crack along the forearm. he finds the courage to speak, “i‐i—” no, no. you can’t. you /can’t/ kill her. you’ll die. you’ll /die./ “i’ll... set you f-free.”

YOU ARE NOT HIM. HIS FIGHT'S NOT YOURS.

But even though you can't go back, You change the path by choosing to move on.

(( trexx plays stp tomorrow. finally

Do you... still care about me?

let her out? that seems simple enough. ...but he has a bad feeling. besides the sinking weight and metaphorical needles, there’s something else: a little voice at the back of his mind. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳. that’s impossible. you couldn’t move, even if you wanted to.

is it really such a crime for an angel to speak his mind ?

Are you still there? Are you still you?

Consumption and betrayal. Skepticism and blind devotion. Rivalry and submission. Terror and longing. Pain and unfamiliarity. And at the heart of it all, an emotion that can only be described as—

one day you're going to die ！

we bleed like watercolors and drunken pastels .

The dance is its own truth. It is the movement that matters, not the pause you mistake for an ending.

(( okay that reply was hard. i had to actually think and ask myself "okay what the hell would jack Maybe do"

Heart, lungs, liver, nerves

THEY SET THE FIRE, LET THEM FAN THE FLAME.

...i have unfortunate news.

oh, god. every inch of him screams to move, to escape, but all he can do is stand and watch as this /thing/ manifests from the darkness. his right arm twitches — an instinctive plea to summon his bow — but nothing comes from it. +

WIRES...

An angel felled is a demon scorned.

something’s wrong. the cold persists. an unseen weight pushes against his nape like a block of ice. this isn’t fear, no, it’s something else, something the council carried in full measure — but not quite the same. +

[ hm. now, that‘s tempting. suddenly, the room feels colder than he precived it to be. ] [ ...he was never good with blades, anyway. he kicks it to the side and carries on down the steps. ]

[ Very Hesitantly shuffling over to the Perfectly Placed Blade in front of the door. ]

You Want To Shield Your Dick? For Fun?

you’re burning. you’re on fire in a world built of ice.

there’s a formation to it. a curve. it stretches vertically across like the body of a snake.

i turned around and saw an angel

the messenger looked up. his brothers hadn’t said a word to him or each other since they started their trek. “archangel remuiel,” anauel said, looking up. “why are you and brother hashmal so quiet?”

(( hi. i made a quote bot for him @thewindfavors.bsky.social

now i feel like no one can save me .

Believe in God, but question the teachings of men.

SUCK THAT FLAT FACE FRIDAY!

Suck That Flat Face Friday

[ going to say something but immediately stopping themself ]

....that’s. that’s okay i wasn’t. particularly interested, anyway