forum Death to the Righteous (Closed o/o with Jaiden)

Started August 23, 2022 by @Anxietyfilledcinnamonroll group

tune

@Jaiden_Truthteller

Ello! Since this is yours, I'll let you start.

(I got severely distracted and trying to figure out how to word a warning ;-;)

//Warning to those who may stalk/view. There will be extreme violence and gore, possibly accompanied by other mature themes. Viewer's discretion is advised.//

A fan clicked as it turned slowly, trying to displace the smoky air. A figure sat in a furnished oak chair, feet perched on the desk they sat at. The room they sat in was wholly dark, consuming any light possible. The only illumination was the dim desk lamp; even then, the smoky air obscured all the lamp produced. The figure put a cigarette to their lips, blowing out the smoke that filled their lungs. The cigarettes smoke wafted up to the ceiling. The fan, trying to do its job, managed to mix the new with the old. The figure picked up one of the scattered papers on his desk, glaring at it as voices danced around in his head. Kill them. Kill them all, It rasped. "They’ll pay… they’ll pay in blood. I promise." A hoarse voice filled the room, little emotion filling the cracks. The figure placed the sheet back on the desk, crumpled the cigarette in an ashtray, and stood up. The paper? It was a hit list. And only a handful of names on the hit list could be made out in the low light. Solomon Aveline: The first victim. But first, this person needed to complete something. They grabbed their black frock coat off the coat hanger. They snatched a Damascus dagger off the wall, hiding it in their inner coat pocket.

Gabriel stuffed his hands in the pockets of his frock coat. He grimaced as the rays of the sun hit his face. He hadn’t slept in days, instead, he was too busy tracking down the addresses of his victims. Many of the penalties Gabriel had outlined for each individual modeled after the manner in which his beloved buddies were slain. Now, he was headed towards Ashling’s Corner, the only district of London that harbored the worst of the worst. Killers and creatures from broken families. The greatest place to find a partner in crime. Once again would the Magpies’ leader rise like a demon from hell, back to hunt those who’ve wronged him. Looking up, he could smell the blood that accompanied Ashling. The weak could never survive in a place like this. The buildings were small, easy to break into, and one could kill whoever may be sleeping.

Rolling his sleepy eyes, accompanied by reddish circles from his addiction to demon’s blood, he scanned the rampant district for his next, newest, obsession. And who could that possibly be? Death himself? After all, they would have to prove themselves to him as ‘worthy’.

(I feel that, lol)

The man in one of the shadowed alleys of Ashlings Corner watched Gabriel through deep red, half-lidded, feral and predatory eyes, tossing a wicked looking blade in the air and catching it casually. He wasn't afraid of the man in the street. He had no need to be. But what really caught the man's eye was the outline of the dagger beneath Gabriel's overcoat.

He steps into the street, stalking after Gabriel like a tiger: lazily, casually, but with a vicious intent. He made no noise as he walked. He didn't even disturb the dust in the air. But he knew that this little game of cat and mouse was bound to be interesting.

(Start it nice and calm—and then up the ante!)

Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment, the weariness setting in before he cracked his own neck, tricking his body into reacting. This kept him awake for days. He reached into his frock coat and pulled out the dagger, waving it around to entice the predator. He was already ten steps ahead, but when Gabriel laid his eyes on something, he had to have it. This was no different. “Come get it, kitty.” He rasped, jumping on top of a dumpster. “If you’re smart, you’ll follow me to the highest point. If you’re a complete idiot—you’ll stay. Got? Got!” He leaped up onto a brick wall of one of the decaying structures with a vile smile parting his lips and one eye twitching multiple times. Clinging to the trim, Gabriel reached for a smashed window. He waved the blade again, slicing his palm against the broken glass to provide a plausible blood trail. Gabriel reached for a broken window, clinging to the trim. He waved the blade again, slicing his palm against the broken glass to provide a plausible blood trail. He then vanished from view. Not even a single strand of blonde hair was left where he was last seen.

( XD yeah)
(Here's Nyx's general looks and aesthetic- no clue who the credit goes to for the art- https://pin.it/21xhKFc)

Nyx cocks his head. So he's an idiot. Insane, sure. But an idiot nonetheless.

But he follows after Gabriel, quickly reaching the window and going left, the direction instinct told him to go. He was quickly rewarded: he easily caught up with him.

(School is— already killing me)

Gabriel scampered up the rotting buildings, using things attached to the buildings like a rock wall. He placed the blade between his teeth, using both his hands, despite his left one burning as glass buried deeper under his skin. He knew what he called 'The Kitty' was following. Weeks ago, the kitty picked up his interest, slinking around the slums like a wild animal. How couldn't a man want a creature like that in his brigade. It would be insane! And Gabriel, wasn't insane, no. He was a smart man— at least that's what he convinced himself the difference was. His blood dripped from his hand, splattering on the walls he climbed. At once point, the man stood on top of the highest building near the alley, his body twitching. The urge to act upon his addiction was strong, but first, he had to get the kitty on board. Yes! That was the plan. The perfect plan!

Gabriel hummed 'Clair de Lune', waiting for the monster to snag him and slit his throat. That would be a mercy, wouldn't it? No creature would pity him. Voices of his dead friends whispered songs of vengeance, cries drowned out by their own blood. Some even blamed him for their deaths, whispering in his inner ear that he was a murderer. Gabriel snarled. "SHUT UP!" He slammed his palm against his head and the voices ceased.

(Oof- that sucks.)

Nyx raced after Gabriel, the ringing song of a Elder blade being unsheathed ringing into the air. It was a darkly beautiful sound. The blade - which seemed to leech color and warmth from everything and from which wisps of smoke rolled from - was at Gabriel's throat in the next second.

A lazy, hateful voice spoke. A voice that slithered down your spine and seemed to want to bring you to your knees, a voice well accustomed to issuing orders, a voice of power and barely contained wrath at the world. "Tell me, why do you wander these streets? Do you wish to claim a head, a soul? Do you wish to bring the world to its knees with your blade? Or do you wish your own life over, to seek escape from the voices of the damned that echo into the infinite reaches of your mind?"

Gabriel cracked a smile as the blade was pressed to his throat. A breathy laugh escaped his mouth, a shiver running down his body. The blood was a little too cold for his taste, but Nyx’s voice? Didn’t bother him too much. The voice did, however, ring in his ears, burning another hole in his mind. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, his little smirk still on his face. “The last two points align with my agenda, but it’s the latter. Do you want to give me peace and mercy? Or would you rather I rot away in my own head, hmmm?” He dropped his blade, waiting for it to cling to the ground far below him. But it never came. “Bring the world to its knees? WITH THAT BLADE?” He choked out a raspy giggle. “You must be an idiot. I cannot.” He closed his eyes. “You can either help me brutally murder people or send me on a voyage into everlasting rest.”

An amused, cruel gleam appears in Nyx's eyes as he sheathes his blade.

"Giving mercy and peace is not what I do. I torture worlds, fill oceans with blood, soar high on the screams of pain. I don't care if you die slow or fast. As long as I hear a scream of pain, of fury, of regret while you die, I am happy."

"And as for brutal murder. . . as long as you pay with your blood, I will do whatever you wish." he adds arrogantly.

Gabriel prepared himself in the event his neck would be slit open and blood would come pouring out. It bubbling up in his throat, choking him as he grasped for a breath in vain. Dying at the hands of a cold-blooded murder wouldn't be too bad. But, alas, the icy grip of death never appeared. Was he cursed to live longer than 269 years? The albatross obviously wasn't too scared to wrap around his neck. So why must he carry the burden to still live? Gabriel scoffed, his left eye twitching in annoyance and the red circles growing dark; his hunger was returning. "So—you're going to curse me to live. How saddened I am." A slight smile crept across his face, but it did not reflect his tone. "Why not kill me now." He snarled. "Get me out of your world. After all, you want my blood spilled." His ran two fingers across his neck, rolling his eyes when he realized Nyx wouldn't do what a person wanted. Only the opposite. It would be a mercy after all. "In the end, I expect to be murdered. But I just need a killer to knock a few people off my hit list."

(Oh shit- sorry)

Nyx huffs a lazy breath and rolls his eyes. "We're all cursed to live. And while spilling your blood would give me pleasure, slaughtering innocents is a far greater pleasure."

A feral look overtakes the half-demon's features as he opens his crimson eyes fully. He kneels mockingly in front of Gabriel, eyes locked onto the other man's. "As you command, my lord."

Gabriel drew in a breath, his addictive craving overriding his impulse control. Reaching into his overcoat, the man brought out a vial of liquid which was a reddish-purple. He used his thumbnail to wiggle the cork out with a pop. He put the vial up to his lips, swinging his head back, taking the liquid like a shot. Gabriel dropped the vial, the glass shattering and sliding across the roof of which they stood. “My blood is tainted. It’s not best spilled.” He muttered, grabbing a cigarette from his coat, holding it in his mouth, and striking a match. He put the match up to the the tip, burning the tobacco. Throwing the match on the ground, Gabriel stomped it out. “These people are not innocent. They are to be cast into hell.” His voice was nothing but a rasp, tainted by the smoke that coated his larynx. Taking the cigarette between two fingers, he blew out a puff of smoke. “Get up. I’m not your lord. We’re going to suffocate a man.” The red-circles under his eyes had lightened but still remained. Gabriel looked down and jumped off the building, landing on his feet in the alley that was beneath him.

"Demon blood is meant to be spilled." Nyx comments. "Not to be a drink."

He shrugs. "Innocent or not, pain is pain. Innocents just offer many more pleas and screams."

Rising, Nyx's tall, slim form follows after Gabriel without a further word. He may as well have been a ghost of a shadow. Not even the wan light or dusty shadows acknowledged him. People did though. They shrank away when Nyx passed. Not when Gabriel had passed before him. Nyx had more authority, more fear, associated with him. Soon, it would all be Gabriel's, but Nyx didn't mind.

Gabriel hacks up a splatter of blood, sticking out his tongue as a dark veins surge under his left cheek, slowly disappearing under the skin. “I’m sorry, I have an addiction.” He muttered, no longer in the mood to engage in conversation. Swaying his hand, the Damascus blade reappearing in his palm. “Oh, these people think they have the right to innocence.” He blew out another puff of smoke. “They’ve lost their minds! How do you plea innocence after killing my friends?!” Gabriel shuffled through the alleyway, shadows devouring his figure whole. Not even a strand of blond hair remained. Only his coughs and loud thoughts prevailed through, the stench of anger and resentment from his person carried through the air.

Gabriel looked up at the sky, slinking out of the shadows. “It’s too light. Anyone in the wealthy part of London would have us murdered. 'Tis best to wait for night.” He leaned again a building, smothering his cigarette under his boot.

Nyx stays silent, except for a small huff.

Either way, this will be extremely interesting. If he manages to prove himself useful, I might not kill him.

When Gabriel says they'll wait until night, Nyx sighs.

"They've already tried to kill us both, fuckhead. And obviously failed. So it doesn't matter." he mutters.

Gabriel coughed violently, his lungs coated with the cancerous nicotine smoke. “It may not matter to you, mon chat, but to me, it does. That’s you conduct make a clean break in. That is how you leave the authorities questioning.” He turned to face Nyx. “That is how you make sure needles stuck in your neck to sedate you.” He snarled at the monster, a heavy layer of smoke on Gabriel’s breath. “And then, we can suffocate a man. Like how he suffocated one of my friends.” Gabriel held deep grudges. Dark ones hidden in his soul. Grudges that will never see the day. “Now wait patiently like I tell you!”

Nyx snarls, one of his hands twitching towards his sword.

"I can get in and out without being seen, smelled, felt or heard. How do you think the Dusk Ghetto killings happened?" he growls.

The urge to slash Gabriel was getting overpowering.

Gabriel huffed, his face twisting into one of displeasure. "Fine." His voice was thin, almost scratchy. "But if you mess up, I am not one to blame. Since you are adamant on killing in the daylight, you can lead the way." He grabbed a pristine piece of sketch paper out from his inner coat pocket. "The first house is on 738, Newbary street, and this will be Solomon's sentence." Gabriel turned the sketch paper to show Nyx the artwork. It was a gruesome sketch depicting a man with no head, insides out of the body cavity and strewn about. The corpse was on its back slashed in two with ribs holding up the flesh flaps, also known as the blood eagle. This is what Gabriel referred to as suffocation— because you cut off-air flow by chopping off the head. "Simple enough, right?"

Nyx pulls his hand away from the hilt of his sword reluctantly, examining the image with a gleam of cruel joy.

"I hope you don't mind if I add my own artistry to it. Because though this is near perfect, it needs a bit of something else." he murmurs, still fixated on the image.

Gabriel waved his hand, excited to see that the beast had liked his idea of murder already. “Yeah, yeah. Do what you want. I don’t know what else you might need, but whatever.” He rolled his eyes, rolling up the sketch paper and shoved it into the pocket of his inner coat. “I have sketches for all 30 people that need to be murdered. They all have wronged me.” He gritted his teeth and growled. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started to get on the move, slinking out of the shadows that protected him from murders. Now, he could be executed at any time now.

Nyx grins.

"Only 30?" he asks snidely before slipping away into the streets.

He finds the address easily and simply turns into dust, slipping in.

There was a man sleeping. Perfect.

Nyx settles himself on the ceiling above the bed and waits for the next hour for the man to wake up.

"Hello! You're already dead. Don't bother crying out. Nobody listens to the screams of the damned." he smiles, dropping down from the ceiling. He pulls out a vaguely translucent dagger.

He steps forward, and considers. After a moment, he sheathes the dagger. A hand reaches out and grasps one of the man's fingers, ripping it off. A wimper, but otherwise the man stays silent. Then another finger.

With each finger came a craaack-squelch sound, then the splatter of blood.

Gabriel shrugged, trudging his way along the smoggy city streets. "30 is the minimum. If a beast like you want more people to slaughter, I could—" He faltered when he realized the beast had left him to his lonesome self. With a heavy sigh, Gabriel quickened his walking pace. He didn't have the simple notion that Nyx had already arrived, tearing apart the victim's hands. For Gabriel, the walk would take him many minutes to clear the smog filled part of town. The warlock broke into a sprint, shuffling throughout the streets, dodging stray knifes and pinpoint bullets. By the time he'd reached the neighborhood in question, his overcoat was tattered and torn places in his tunic exposed his chest. He found the house of Solomon, scaling the outside wall and slipping into the window. "Hell all mighty." Gabriel harshly whispered.

Nyx doesn't turn.

"How nice. You showed up." he says, obviously distracted.

The man's torso looked like the image. But otherwise, the man was unrecognizable. His face had been physically torn off and disfigured, stretched and nailed to the door. His bones were all fractured and split in odd angles through major organs: brain, heart, liver and kidneys. The blood splatters across Nyx and the walls showed very clearly that all of this happened while the man was barely alive. As for the meat and muscle on the arms and legs. . . it was nowhere to be found.