(OOC: All will be revealed soon enough :) )
Hex clenches her claw and digs into her skull. His voice is getting more and more annoying the longer he breathes. My death causes me to fall deep inside myself. I have to listen to their screams and cries the deeper I go. The louder their anguish, the more I feel pure jubilation. I love nothing more than to hear them beg for a mercy they will never receive. Just to suffer forever, prisoners in flesh. Despite her words, her face appears… distressed. Every single soul fears and hates me. That is all I expect of them. That is all I want from them. But… there is one that… She grows quiet. For a moment, she's lost in her thoughts. Then she decides to redirect her anger to another topic all together rather than continue. And another thing! Do you take me for a SCAVENGER!? Those disgusting things you made me consume could barely qualify as food! It was dead and not even good! It all tasted like pure shit! I want my prey living and breathing and running and screaming! Not that pathetic display of bullshit! She abruptly starts yelling again and ditches her somberness in exchange for more anger.
"You're alive, ain't ya? Shut up, and just be grateful, okay?"
"Yare Yare Daze…" He muttered
Hex's eyes flare wide with indignation and astonishment at the audacity of this bitch. Her huge claws suddenly surround his throat, but do not touch him. Simply hovering right over his jugular as if to impale him on her fingers. They twitch in an eager willingness to spear his guts and rip them apart. Her teeth are grinding against each other and a low rumble echoes dangerously from her chest.
Grateful…? I should be grateful that I am to be revived in this place? I should be grateful that I have to waste more of my time with the likes of two weak insects? I should be grateful that you brought me back from my own personal hell to bring me somewhere worse? I am supposed to be grateful? She almost looses control. She almost snaps his head right from his neck and risk punishment all to savor the repulsive taste of this lowly worm. But instead, she leans in close, her eyes glaring straight through his head and asks.
Why? Why bring me back?
"Please… I've dealt with worse! Would you like to see?" He said, angered at being called a worm. He was Vozreal, destroyer of Universes! Deal-maker and inventor extraordinaire! He invented the phone tree, for crying out loud! He, Vozreal, compared to a worm? Humbug!
That does not answer my question, worm. She draws out the word as she notices his disdain for it. If you are aware that I am the culmination of suffering in my world and if you are aware of what lies beneath my flesh, then why bother bringing me back if not to simply annoy me? I know you saw it. I know you saw them. You know I am the manifestation of all fates worse than death. Why bring me back? Her voice gets low and ferocious. She has no interest in what he expounds upon and only had so much patience for his presence.
(OOC: HUMBUG??? THIS MF SCROOGE????)
"Saw what?" He tapped her forehead and his experiences of Tartarus presented itself to Hex. Nightmares of Nightmares upon Nightmares showed up, and it was enough trauma to destroy anyone or anyTHING, provided that they don't forget about it fast enough.
(OOC: HUMBUG??? THIS MF SCROOGE????)
𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝙋𝘼𝙎𝙏– ))
(Vozreal inspired Scrooge, actually. In canon, not IRL…)
Hex freezes. The tap on her head conjured a myriad of images to flash into her mind. For several moments she stares through Vozreal, not even noticing his presence anymore at what was bestowed within her mind. Her expression is unreadable. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is slightly agape, but whatever malicious energy surrounded her vanished slowly. Suddenly, with little fanfare, her face begins to ease into a comfortable smile. She straightens herself to full height and looks down at Vozreal with that simple eerie smile. She puts her claws together and begins clapping quietly. Congratulations. You have escaped my maw this time, demon. You have satiated my desire for your blood by substituting it with such marvelous carnage. And for that, I thank y- GHKACK. The simple expression of gratitude was enough for her body to viscerally reject it. Black acidic ooze spills from her mouth and she's doubled in surprise over from the reaction. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and cackles softly. That is there simply if I dare be virtuous. Nonetheless, I am quite… happy now. She is far more relaxed now that her bloodlust is mostly satisfied. She lowers herself to the ground and sits like she did beforehand. She looks at her claws with a steady gaze. Ah. The somberness from before steps back in. How troubling. She tries to distract herself by looking to her left and seeing King hasn't moved since this whole ordeal. Oh hey King we thought you were dead.
(OOC: Okay so, Hex never experienced fear or trauma before cause she's usually the one dishing it out. She actually has nothing to fear in her world cause nothing hunts her. They all want her dead, but they can't kill her (expect the one guy but even he didn't do it right.) You know The Thing (1982)? She's that thing. But magic. And instead of eight guys its the entire world. Yeah. And you know what I'll say it. Throw in some Junji Ito inexplicable horror bs and yeah she's that too. She's just an awful thing. Her worst "nightmare" isn't a fear, it's just something she finds undesirable. Yeah she's a wacky one. Also yes the last thing was a meme.)
"might as well…" he grumbled. "I just want to rest and i don't know, go the fuck home?"
Hex ponders silently. I do not have a home anymore. She speaks like she just realized this. She doesn't appear to be burdened by her words. It was just a statement to her. Hm. I guess I do not have a need for one. Considering all that I have done. She looks at the other two. What is home like for the two of you?
"I travel all over the world. Home is where I crash for the week."
Hex hums in understanding. She too relies on whatever she can get her claws on as a means of rest or repose. Are you deaf Shadow King? Or are you mute? She turns and observes him as he silently stands there. She huffs at his lack of response. Fine then. It is of no concern to me. Answer when you have gathered your thoughts. She turns to Vozreal. What is that word you say? Is it an incantation of some kind?
"It's japanese for good grief."
Hex did a double take. Here we go again. Its what? What is that?
Hex tilts her head at his brief explanation. Why are there so many languages among humans? If all originate from the same root, why the deviation in communication? Sadly, she didn't notice the fat bars she dropped, and instead continues to look at Vozreal with intrigue.
(Well I wrote this song for the Christian youth…)
"You know the tower of Babel? from the Bible?"
Hex closes her eyes and concentrates on the information she had received. She had pushed it all to a foreign part of her mind where such information could not afflict her with migraines. Ah, yes. I see now. The humans sought to build a tower to the heavens and were punished for it. That punishment being the inability to communicate with one another by having them unable to understand one another. She opens her eyes. That almighty being is quite powerful, hm?
"Yes. yes they are. Not being able to understand each other meant that they couldn't build anymore."
Hex turns her head to her right as she thinks about her own realm. She turns her head straight and decides to indulge in some shit talking. The creator being of my world is a complete coward. It made us as a means to release and hone its craft only for it to leave us to our devices. It picks a favorite among its lot and bestows to it a powerful gift siphoned from its own body. Her jagged toothed smile creeps along her face once more. Little did it know, its own creation would be its most horrid adversary. She looks to her claws, tipped with the cursed blackness that decays flesh. Is your creator being as much of a coward as mine? Or does it actually function like a true supreme being? I am aware of its deeds within that book, but how does it adapt to modernity?
