Event Ten.

[awashmods]

Little Willie, mean as hell, Pushed his sister in a well. Mother said, while drawing water, "My, it's hard to raise a daughter."

t's pretty dark and miserable down in the well. The cavernous area feels much larger than a well should be, bodies milling about in the darkness and knee deep, frigid water. So you're here -- and you're not alone, and the only way out appears to be the thin circle of sunlight from above, the opening of the well. (And elsewhere, in the Town, everyone's waking up to gifts of various usefulness, but hopefully they remember to check the well today even so!) What now? Welcome to Awash's tenth event log, and the intro log for this month, everyone! All new characters have found themselves waking in the well in the middle of the Town. Hopefully they can get a hand out! For more information, please go here! Meanwhile, the current characters have some new gifts. If there are any questions, please ask them here, and have fun! Thank you!

Comments

[passio]

Ah…

[ those words are still unkind, and dextera doesn’t have the self-confidence to read any softness into them. he hesitates, however, and doesn’t immediately retreat the way that he wants to. the way that he should, perhaps. ]

I…

[ signed, slowly. the town allows him to communicate like this, at least. he shakes his head. ]

What’s your name?

[heirworthy]

[ weird how he somehow ... understands that the same way he understands the primal beasts' voiceless manner of communication. ]

I am the Primarch Sandalphon. Who's asking?

[passio]

—!

[ not just an angel, then, but one of the angels. someone far above dextera, who may be a part god, but is still less than human on his best days.

his expression twists into something a little frightened, and somehow, guilty as well. he pauses, before he answers. ]

You’re an Archangel.

[ not an answer to the question, though, and he takes a moment longer to offer that. he knows it may not mean anything to sandalphon, who doesn’t exist in his world, but he doesn’t feel like he should give his “name.” this feels so official. ]

I was—Koriel XII. You don’t know me.

[heirworthy]

[ he knows fear when he sees it. he's the fallen primarch who nearly destroyed the realm, who rebelled against the astrals. he's not lucifer, never will be. so that look thrown at him doesn't faze him one bit.

sandalphon's smile twists wryly. ]

Is knowing who I am truly terrifying? Were you a skydweller from Amalthea?

[ is that why his existence is still hated? ]

[passio]

Ah?

[ that’s not it at all, and immediately, dextera raises a hand to touch his own face, as if questioning how obvious it was that he’s upset. he shakes his head. they’re from different worlds, indeed—he doesn’t know what amalthea is. he doesn’t know who sandalphon is to himself, but that smile cuts across all other reason or knowledge.

trying to explain his reaction in terms of his own history might be difficult, though. how does he approach this? ]

It’s a long story. [ a pause. ] I’m sorry. But I’m not afraid of “you.”

[ afraid, yes, but afraid of the man in front of him… not exactly. ]

[heirworthy]

[ ... well, isn't that a first?

or maybe not, since there was lyria and vyrn and the singularity and the entire grandcypher crew. there was no fear when they finally got to meet him, only confusion and anger. ]

Ah, is that so? That's too bad. [ he's almost ... disappointed? he can't tell. ] So what is it, then?

[passio]

…

[ the truth is the best option, but it’s too much of a story to tell everything here and now. later, another day, when he’s feeling more stable on his feet, maybe he’ll be able to explain this reaction. ]

You remind me of someone. A different Archangel.

[ one who isn’t an angel at all, really—he just took the title. ]