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Godly Decrees
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nc_ooc 4. Playing with fire.
NOTE: This piece deals with topics of physical and mental torture.
Thnisko had taken the risk to see the stars. He stood on a planet that had yet to be named, or his father had named it and he didn't know what it was. The later was more likely since Lucifer addressed everything by proper name. Every creation, every serpent that dwelt in the fire, he addressed them all by name out of respect and love. This planet had vibrant colors under twin suns. One that burned white and one that burned near orange. It pulled the plant life from yellows, through greens and into brilliant blues in response to the expanded light range.
Death found this planet beautiful because it was on the verge of destruction constantly. It held barely to the balance between it's binary parents. Life here flourished in a multitude of forms and many of them were toxic. The air here was dense, hot and it reminded him of Chaos, except without the darkness and uniform colors. This was truly beautiful. Phenex had come here once with him and he guarded the older angel while they explored in excitement. This was Death's sanctuary when he left the confines of their prison.
“You are far from home.”
Death furrowed his brow at the voice. It sounded like his father but as he turned the seraphim there was very different. He didn't need anyone to tell him who it was as soon as he saw the flaming sword. Michael.
Thnisko backed away. He couldn't outfly the seraphim but he knew the planet they were on at least. He dove into the foliage and took off flying through the vegetation. His mind cried out for his father, for help. He knew Michael would call the others if he realized which angel he had found.
Lucifer was relaxing in the throne, reading when his mind lit up with cries from his son. He did not think when he flew to the door, his daughter fast in tow. He came to the door and found it barred from the outside. Someone had locked the Gates of Chaos. Lucifer screamed at the gate, shaking the door frame with voice alone. The two seraphim worked on break down the door as fast as they could driven by a flood of fear from one of their own.
“The doors are barred.” Raphael landed beside Michael. “The others are on their way. Which angel did we corner?”
“I don't know yet.” Michael stepped forward looking carefully into the shadows of the brush. “They're very good at hiding from us.”
The two angels stood watching, listening. Feathers were shifting in the shadows.
“Six wings.” Gabriel landed beside them. “It's a seraphim. Not Lucifer.”
“One of his foul offspring then?”
Death panicked and bolted from the three angels that were moving in on him. He could hear them coming fast behind him but dare not look. He pushed his wings, the muscles burned. He was screaming for his father and could feel the flood of anger that raged back down their connection. Lucifer would come If only he could stay away long enough. The forest suddenly ended plunging him into the open light. There was no time to turn.
Exhaustion was starting to take over, angelic power kicking in to push his wings to press harder against the air. An arrow grazed his low wing and slammed into the largest set right at the shoulder blades. He dropped, fighting to keep his balance with a crippled wing, slowing. Hands were on him, digging into skin, ripping him out of the sky. The ground came up hard and fast, breaking his arm on the jagged rocks.
He rolled facing the angels that were grabbing him and he fought, his power weak from flight. He couldn't kill them, perhaps wasn't old enough yet even if he tried.
“Death.” Michael smirked at the angel the other three were holding down. “God dictated that any of the abominations found outside of confines of your prison should die.”
He cried for his father, feeling motion and laughed at the angels before him. “My father's mad. He's going to kill you.”
“It will be too late for you.” Raphael, or maybe Uriel whispered in his ear. “Let's take his eyes.”
A hand came over his eyes. Pain flared so hot that he couldn't scream and it filled his vision with light brighter that Lucifer when he was bared to the universe. It was so hot. Thnisko clawed at the hands trying to pull them away. They were locked on his face and finally the pain subsided enough to find his voice. The scream shook the planet, crumpled the angels who covered their ears. They had to let go of the seraphim to protect themselves.
Death tried to blink away the blaring whiteness searing his eyes but nothing worked. His hands found his eyes, where they should have been. Vacant space wet with blood met his touch but still the bright white light burned on. He cried but no tears came, only more blood drained freely from the empty sockets.
“Shut him up.” Gabriel cried still holding his ears.
Michael got to his feet and grabbed the son of the Morningstar, forced his illusions to dissipate and bare the angel lying beneath. He grabbed the energy and ripped the voice from the angel. A huge chunk of energy degraded in Michael's hand and the screaming died away with it. Michael dropped the mutilated seraphim as the illusions naturally reasserted themselves.
“Kill him.” The angel of justice commanded and the others drew weapons. Thnisko couldn't see, couldn't think in the face of the pain already endured, but he still felt the first sword cut and every one that happened after. So many that he lost count, but as soon as they started they stopped.
Seraphim screamed and there was searing heat as Lucifer landed. It engulfed the area in flames as hot as the hellfires of Chaos, scorching planet and angels. Thnisko could hear the clash of swords, the sound of feathers straining under aerial combat. The screams turned from anger to fear, then pain. Then there was silence. Thnisko floundered to find his footing, disoriented, bleeding, and blind.
Hands touched him and he flinched in fear. The pain was still too new but with the touch it faded. “Thnisko, my son.”
He could hear the tears as he was cradled. This time he didn't pull away. Another touched him, gentle hands soft as flower petals. He tried to say their names but no sound came. Even his telepathy was without sound. He was voiceless and in the dark. Warmth replaced pain and love replaced fear. They were healing him but they were grieving, guilty. He wanted to ask why but he didn't know how. Instead he clung to them while they healed the wounds they could. His eyes and the gouge to his spirit that took his voice would never heal. Even Lucifer did not currently have the power to heal those breaks.
nc_ooc 4. Playing with fire.NOTE: This piece deals with topics of physical and mental torture.
Thnisko had taken the risk to see the stars. He stood on a planet that had yet to be named, or his father had named it and he didn't know what it was. The later was more likely since Lucifer addressed everything by proper name. Every creation, every serpent that dwelt in the fire, he addressed them all by name out of respect and love. This planet had vibrant colors under twin suns. One that burned white and one that burned near orange. It pulled the plant life from yellows, through greens and into brilliant blues in response to the expanded light range.
Death found this planet beautiful because it was on the verge of destruction constantly. It held barely to the balance between it's binary parents. Life here flourished in a multitude of forms and many of them were toxic. The air here was dense, hot and it reminded him of Chaos, except without the darkness and uniform colors. This was truly beautiful. Phenex had come here once with him and he guarded the older angel while they explored in excitement. This was Death's sanctuary when he left the confines of their prison.
“You are far from home.”
Death furrowed his brow at the voice. It sounded like his father but as he turned the seraphim there was very different. He didn't need anyone to tell him who it was as soon as he saw the flaming sword. Michael.
Thnisko backed away. He couldn't outfly the seraphim but he knew the planet they were on at least. He dove into the foliage and took off flying through the vegetation. His mind cried out for his father, for help. He knew Michael would call the others if he realized which angel he had found.
Lucifer was relaxing in the throne, reading when his mind lit up with cries from his son. He did not think when he flew to the door, his daughter fast in tow. He came to the door and found it barred from the outside. Someone had locked the Gates of Chaos. Lucifer screamed at the gate, shaking the door frame with voice alone. The two seraphim worked on break down the door as fast as they could driven by a flood of fear from one of their own.
“The doors are barred.” Raphael landed beside Michael. “The others are on their way. Which angel did we corner?”
“I don't know yet.” Michael stepped forward looking carefully into the shadows of the brush. “They're very good at hiding from us.”
The two angels stood watching, listening. Feathers were shifting in the shadows.
“Six wings.” Gabriel landed beside them. “It's a seraphim. Not Lucifer.”
“One of his foul offspring then?”
Death panicked and bolted from the three angels that were moving in on him. He could hear them coming fast behind him but dare not look. He pushed his wings, the muscles burned. He was screaming for his father and could feel the flood of anger that raged back down their connection. Lucifer would come If only he could stay away long enough. The forest suddenly ended plunging him into the open light. There was no time to turn.
Exhaustion was starting to take over, angelic power kicking in to push his wings to press harder against the air. An arrow grazed his low wing and slammed into the largest set right at the shoulder blades. He dropped, fighting to keep his balance with a crippled wing, slowing. Hands were on him, digging into skin, ripping him out of the sky. The ground came up hard and fast, breaking his arm on the jagged rocks.
He rolled facing the angels that were grabbing him and he fought, his power weak from flight. He couldn't kill them, perhaps wasn't old enough yet even if he tried.
“Death.” Michael smirked at the angel the other three were holding down. “God dictated that any of the abominations found outside of confines of your prison should die.”
He cried for his father, feeling motion and laughed at the angels before him. “My father's mad. He's going to kill you.”
“It will be too late for you.” Raphael, or maybe Uriel whispered in his ear. “Let's take his eyes.”
A hand came over his eyes. Pain flared so hot that he couldn't scream and it filled his vision with light brighter that Lucifer when he was bared to the universe. It was so hot. Thnisko clawed at the hands trying to pull them away. They were locked on his face and finally the pain subsided enough to find his voice. The scream shook the planet, crumpled the angels who covered their ears. They had to let go of the seraphim to protect themselves.
Death tried to blink away the blaring whiteness searing his eyes but nothing worked. His hands found his eyes, where they should have been. Vacant space wet with blood met his touch but still the bright white light burned on. He cried but no tears came, only more blood drained freely from the empty sockets.
“Shut him up.” Gabriel cried still holding his ears.
Michael got to his feet and grabbed the son of the Morningstar, forced his illusions to dissipate and bare the angel lying beneath. He grabbed the energy and ripped the voice from the angel. A huge chunk of energy degraded in Michael's hand and the screaming died away with it. Michael dropped the mutilated seraphim as the illusions naturally reasserted themselves.
“Kill him.” The angel of justice commanded and the others drew weapons. Thnisko couldn't see, couldn't think in the face of the pain already endured, but he still felt the first sword cut and every one that happened after. So many that he lost count, but as soon as they started they stopped.
Seraphim screamed and there was searing heat as Lucifer landed. It engulfed the area in flames as hot as the hellfires of Chaos, scorching planet and angels. Thnisko could hear the clash of swords, the sound of feathers straining under aerial combat. The screams turned from anger to fear, then pain. Then there was silence. Thnisko floundered to find his footing, disoriented, bleeding, and blind.
Hands touched him and he flinched in fear. The pain was still too new but with the touch it faded. “Thnisko, my son.”
He could hear the tears as he was cradled. This time he didn't pull away. Another touched him, gentle hands soft as flower petals. He tried to say their names but no sound came. Even his telepathy was without sound. He was voiceless and in the dark. Warmth replaced pain and love replaced fear. They were healing him but they were grieving, guilty. He wanted to ask why but he didn't know how. Instead he clung to them while they healed the wounds they could. His eyes and the gouge to his spirit that took his voice would never heal. Even Lucifer did not currently have the power to heal those breaks.