hadriel_logs | my childhood spat back out the monster that you see

[For people currently at UD house.]

He's home when it happens, but in the shower. After a couple of months here, Matt has more than got the idea that - when something happens (and something often happens) - it's best to stay inside. He might be able to knock a zombie or two down in a pinch, but he's not exactly qualified to fight in the way so many people here seem to be.

And so far, their place has been safe. So far, it seems like things are confined to outside.

So he isn't really worrying, no more than one would normally when demons are attacking the city where they live. The people who were good at fighting were handling it, right?

He steps out of the bathroom just as the abomination that was Emily blasts their bedroom door to pieces.

"What the--?"

It's bigger than Emily, a bipedal thing that looks like it could snap a neck with just a look. This magic is new and strong, much stromger in its hands than in the human girl's.

Stepping into the hall, its gaze falls on the boy. Good, something living to test out these new powers with. It gathers energy in its hand and lobs the orb of it at Matt's head.

He's lucky for all the years playing football, the instinct that lets him just barely dodge the orb thrown right at his head, magic searing a layer of skin from his cheek, dragging out pain in the yell of fear already leaving his mouth.

What the fuck indeed. Why is there one of these things in the house, leaving their bedroom?

Where was Emily?

Matt doesn't have time to ruminate, to let these thoughts linger as anything more than quickfire across his synapses, because-

Well, shit, there's a demon. Or something awfully demon-like. And it's trying to kill him.

Solution? Move. Run. Downstairs, towards the front door. Maybe he can outrun it.

It doesn't move again until Matt does, preferring to intimidate him by by presence alone. It's having fun, just like its host would whenever she acted like a conquerer.

Its laughter goes ahead of her down the stairs, its voice following. "Why are you running, Matt? I thought you liked playing games with Emily."

There's a slight glow to its fingers as they lengthen and sharpen. Whether he stops or not, the abomination is going to get him, and it's going to enjoy this.

The voice-

Her voice. It's like nails down a chalkboard, horrifying in its familiarity, sending thundering panic right down his spine, or into his heart or both he doesn't quite know. Just that-

Did she make a deal?

Maybe it's just a trick, something the demon does to scare him. Fear will definitely be enjoying this, because Matt's feeling enough fear for the entire house right now.

"Shit-" he jumps the last few stairs, swearing under his breath as he does. He won't engage the thing. Won't talk to it. That's- that's the kind of thing that gets a guy killed, right?

Talking to a demon gets a guy killed, yes, definitely. But so does being targetted by a demon, which is poir Matt's problem. Emily may not have made a deal, but the demon had wanted her anyway, swooped in and taken over her by force (not much force, because humans are weak, simple playthings). As far as it's concerned, Matt can think whatever he wants.

In movement that's too fast for any human, the abomination follows him, laughing its warped laugh because it likes to watch him fall apart on the inside. (Humans are fragile inside and out, that's part of what makes this so fun.)

"You'll get to see her soon," it calls, swiping at his leg -- to try and grab him, but injuring him works too. "That's what you believe, right? An afterlife."

All he knows is that all of a sudden this demon is coming out of his and Emily's room, attacking him and talking like his girlfriend. It could be a trick, right? He needs it to be a trick.

(He doesn't think it is. What the hell would drive Emily to make a deal with these things, though? What could possibly drive her to agree to this?)

He can't outrun this thing forever, even with all his athletic prowess and years of football, he's still only human.

Only a kid, barely old enough to vote. Can't even drink legally yet.

Of course it catches him in the leg, digs claws into his flesh and grabs him, the searing and now all-too-familiar (thanks, Tonberries) agony of something stabbing him enough to tear a scream from his throat.

"Fuck- Help!" because. Shit. What else can he do? But who would even be walking past this place right now, with all these monsters out in full force?

Oh good, it's injured and grabbed him. Something to boast about later, when faced with more humans.

It yanks Matt back and flips him over so he's looking at the abomination with its sharp-toothed smile that is an absolute perversion of everything Emily was. At best, there are echoes of the human girl left, no more.

The abomination pins him down with a powerful shove to his shoulder. With its bloodied claws, it draws a glyph on his shirt. Kill him with the girl's art, twist it for horrible deeds. The glyph, once activated, will send fire through his veins. It will be a short but painful death.

All the while, it's chuckling its twisted laugh, shards of Emily's voice slipping through to remind him of whose body this used to be. Then it goes silent and stares in his eyes. It lifts its still bloodied claws and stabs them through the points that will activate the magic.

It will watch him as he dies, stare at his eyes until the light in them goes out.

He's going to die. He knows he's going to die before it even starts drawing those symbols Emily's started using here. He knows he's going to die to a monster that's taken over his girlfriend, or is wearing something of his girlfriend's face, of her voice.

He hopes it's the latter, because the former-

that means she agreed to this, right?

(But hope doesn't mean much right now.)

His voice is choked by sobs when he lets out the only thing he can think, a half-strangled cry.

"Stop- Just stop pretending to be Em!"

"Foolish boy," it laughs as the glyph sizzles into action. "Emily is just as dead as you."

[Or call someone to fight her.]

[This can't be happening.

Sam knows it is happening, but her mind is torn against acknowledgment of reality and desperate wishing for an alternative. She thought, stupidly, that they were - well, not exactly safe, because who knew what horrors each new day in this place would bring, but safe enough, as long as she and her friends all stuck together, behind the walls and locked doors of this house.

This thing that's got control of Emily - this is worse than the wendigos getting inside the lodge, and it's worse than discovering Josh was the one who'd attacked her. It's something awful sneaking in and taking over one of her friends - the only one of her friends she'd been able to save, that night on the mountain - and turning her against everyone else in the house.

This can't be happening, but it is, and Sam's is determined to put a stop to it.]

Em, stop. Please. I - I don't want to hurt you.

[But the baseball bat in her hand means that she's prepared to do so, if it's necessary - if it will keep the others safe.]

Edited 2016-11-18 20:08 (UTC)

[The abomination doesn't respond to the name the girl calls her, so much as it responds to being addressed at all. Oh, a squishy human thinks she can fight it? Thinks she can do any damage at all with that frail wooden thing?

Well, why not play with her.

It traces a symbol on its palm, raises the arm to gather energy onto the glyph. When the energy orb is the size of a baseball, it launches it at Sam.

Batter up.]

[Sam's eyes widen in surprise as the orb hurtles toward her. She knows Emily's been studying magic, but - she didn't know she could do this. Sam curses under her breath and dodges to the side, narrowly avoiding being hit by the energy projectile.]

Em, please - you don't want to do this! I know you don't.

[Its laugh is warped, but sounds enough like Emily to remind Sam that her friend used to be here.]

Emily is gone, Sam. She got what she wanted, and now she's gone.

[It slowly draws a glyph in the air. Slowly, because it knows that Sam can't hurt it, and it wants to bask in Sam's fear.]

[Sam pulls herself to her feet, jaw set in defiance, and tightens her grip on the bat.]

You can't be serious! Emily would never want to become - whatever it is you are.

[She is afraid - more afraid for her own life and the lives of her friends than she's been since the mountain. But she won't back down. She can't.]

Em, please, I know you're still in there somewhere - fight this.

You're correct. This is what I wanted.

[When the glyph is complete, it presses its palm against it, activating a gust of wind that heads right for Sam. It's still not sure how it's going to kill Sam, but it knows it's going for spectacle.]

[Sam doesn't have a chance to see this attack coming, and it blows her back into the wall, knocking her dizzy and breathless as she falls to the ground. There is now a distinctly Sam-shaped indentation to the wall, full of cracked plaster and splintered drywall and flaking paint. She loses her grip on the bat; it goes skittering off to the side, out of reach.]

What are you?!

Not Emily.

[The abomination lowers its hand and gives a sharp smirk at the sight of Sam on the floor. It killed Matt with a glyph on the chest, drawn in his own blood. Sam's death must be different.]

I am magnificence in physical form. I am invincible and unstoppable. I take misused talents and take them beyond what anyone could ever have imagined.

[As it speaks, it traces another glyph in the air. When activated, it will crush Sam's heart (such a loving human, so brave) and all but literally fry her brain. It will be quick, but she will bleed tears, a pretty sight for the rest of her little friends to see.]

Emily is dead, Sam. Matt is dead. Now it's your turn.

[It gives a second's pause and activates the glyph, smirk wide as it watches her die.]

[Nick doesn't really have a plan - she's just fighting whatever she can find that needs to be fought. Better this than running and hiding, like she's done for so long. Better to fight back against the horrors of this place than to remain a victim.

There's no recognition here, no understanding that the thing she's facing now in her monstrous doll form used to be Emily. Maybe she would feel differently about this encounter if she knew.]

Hey! Why don't you go back to your own fucking hell dimension, huh?

[The voice the abomination answers with is a distorted, dissonant version of Emily's, and that only because the sound is somewhat restricted by this body's limitations.]

Who says we come from a hell? [It snears and summons power, its own plus the glyphcrafting Emily has been practicing, making a spectacle of pretty lights. Because Emily would show off like that, right, and this is a pride demon.

It holds the pretty glow in place for a second before it launches forward, the energy gathered in an orb in one hand, ready to swing it right at Nick's face.]

Nick Rivenna manages to get the abomination onto the street, but in the wider open space, the monster is able to fight better. It doesn't kill Nick, but it gets her out of the way and starts creating explosions with its twisted glyphcrafting, not caring about -- or perhaps even trying aiming for -- the buildings it destroys and the people who might be in them.

It laughs, a dissonant perversion of Emily's voice, layered and warped but still just enough her that it might be recognizable. It is victorious, and it will not be stopped.

The explosions immediately draw the attention of a certain icy alien, who had been en route to his friend's house during one of his daily patrols. Whereas the people caught in the abomination's warpath flee from it, Glacius narrows his eyes and begins to stalk towards the source of this mayhem, his will steeled and his senses sharp--as sharp as the lance his right arm has become, ready to tear into whatever this new threat turns out to be.

As he steps forward, it's not the sight of the twisted abomination that stops him up-- not the gross masses of flesh clinging to its frame or its horrifically deformed face. No, it's the sound of his friend's voice rising up from its throat--it is twisted, undeniably warped, but it allows Glacius to see a trace of something he recognizes and it halts his determined advance. The point of his lance lowers slightly and uncertainty dances across his gaze, which the alien tries to steel away immediately. Something is very wrong here.

"What manner of treachery is this? Are you some trick of the gods? You are a poor mockery of my friend, abomination--in fact, such a bastardization only makes me more inclined to bring about your end!"

Unlike Glacius, Carlisle was indeed headed away from the commotion, perfectly ready to vacate the housing district should trouble come looking for him. Given the past few weeks -- no, months -- he's starting to believe that it will find him no matter where he goes. But the trouble isn't his today. He turns back toward the houses, a booming, terrifying laughter echoing through the lanes. If anyone asked, he'd say it sounds a bit like Emily, though distorted, twisted.

But it isn't Emily, he tells himself. He's seen the news on the communicators, and while these are demons from another world invading the city, they are demons all the same. Being clergy, he knows what that means: perhaps he can do something. He has sealed away his fair share of fiends from beyond the planes, exorcised them from hapless people who found themselves possessed.

But this isn't just some person who stumbled into a demonic contract -- this is possibly Emily, his pupil... and his friend, in a way. Close acquaintance. Someone he'd rather not see dead, her potential wasted.

Sighing and fighting the fear trickling into his legs, making them sluggish with trepidation, Carlisle heads back toward the houses in frustration. He'll peer around whatever building is nearest the monster, he decides. See it surely isn't her, and run if there's seemingly nothing he can do. At least he'll have settled that knot forming in his gut.

But if it is her, then what? And what if she's as good at being a demon as she is at glyphcrafting?

The abomination turns to face Glacius, its grin all sharp teeth and derision. "I do not answer to this place's gods. As for the girl, I heard her wish and granted it. I took my payment. Her last moments were happy, warrior, but yours wil not be."

It readies itself to attack Glacius, index finger drawing a glyph in the air. It glows; the abomination puts its palm up against it, and a beam shoots out at Glacius.

That gets an immediate reaction from Glacius: all of his uncertainty vanishes, replaced by a cold rage as he bristles and readies his lance again. "What did you do--"

He barely gets the words out before the abomination discharges some sort of magical energy in a focused line at his direction. Giving an explosive curse in his native tongue, he immediately liquidizes, and the beam passes harmlessly over him. The puddle that was once an ice alien creeps quickly to the side before Glacius reverts to his natural form; even such an extensive transformation only takes a matter of seconds for the trained warrior. And while he could have led seamlessly into a bone-crunching uppercut, he's still pulling his punches. He had one encounter with the things pouring through the rifts already, enough to know that they possessed their prey and turned them into something monstrous. But would hurting this thing hurt the being it took over, too? The mere possibility is enough to keep him hesitant.

"If you value your life at all you will release your hold on her," Glacius snarls, his green eyes glowing with contempt the likes of which could sear a hole into his foe. "Do you hear me, abomination? Give Emily back or I will shatter your corrupted core!"

Before he manages to round the corner and come within eyeshot of the commotion, Carlisle hears a roaring that stops him dead in his tracks. Algidus. That bellowing must belong to him, he thinks. He doesn't question how Algidus knows Emily, but instead fixates on what he should do next himself. The last time he saw the icy alien, the green being was headed off to speak to Harris -- and Harris had surely told him about their fight and what he did back in the jungle. Even when faced with a demon, the alien might consider Carlisle a bigger threat, one better off dying first.

He's struck with indecision. Does he go out there and try to help? Offer his support as some form of redemption and risk being torn limb from limb? Why does this always happen to him at the worst of times?

Still shaking from the mere mental image of what the icy giant could -- probably would -- do to him, Carlisle peers around the corner, only to see the scenario isn't as he'd envisioned at all. Instead of Emily, there is a demon, a creature so foul that its very presence taints the city. And instead of Algidus, it's Glacius who stands before the abomination -- they sound so much alike when angered that it's frightening.

He will question why later. For now, he cannot leave Glacius to deal with this threat alone. He doesn't know what he's up against, not unless otherworldly beings are a presence on his icy homeworld. Carlisle is clergy, and exorcisms are a part of the oath he made to his goddess. And more than that... they're his friends. He is a coward, but he's not sure he could live with himself if something happened to them and he did nothing. He has been idle long enough.

Carlisle digs through his satchel as he runs over, coming up behind his alien friend. "Glacius!"

"Oh?" The abomination gives a nasty smirk. "Perhaps you'll actually pose a challenge."

Everything about its demeanor speaks to its boundless confidence in its power and the discipline its host had studied. In less than a second, it knows exactly what it wants to do, and starts tracing the appropriate glyph in the air.

That's when the clergyman runs up to the ice alien. "Ah, the teacher." If possible, the abomination's smirk goes sharper, wider. "How poetic. Now your student can teach you."

Completing the glyph, it puts its fist through the design, sending fire in the direction of Emily's friends.

"Carlisle--!" Glacius is shocked at the familiar voice, even more so when he sees the clergyman already running up beside him. While he's proud that the human has mustered up the courage to come to the aid of his friends yet again, he also can't help the slight feeling of dread that has started gnawing at his hearts. The clergyman has told him time and time again that he's not a warrior, and despite his bristling and bellowing he knows this demon is likely going to be a foe as dangerous as it is powerful. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt on his behalf...

... But he doesn't want to do Carlisle the disservice of trying to turn him away--and even if he did, he wouldn't have the time. The demon spews another threat, and all too suddenly Glacius is able to recall exactly where he's seen those glyphs before--though the demonstration the clergyman had given him had only involved remedies, not something so destructive as a burst of fire. The ice alien squawks in alarm and fury, wrapping an arm around Carlisle's waist and bodily heaving them both out of the way of the blast.

"Please tell me you have run to this confrontation because you have an idea," Glacius pants, knowing he can't keep dodging around for much longer. "I can fight, but if this thing has possessed Emily in a manner similar to the other demons that have flooded this city..." He trails off, unable to finish the thought, afraid to know what this might come down to.

While Carlisle might have mustered up the gumption to help his alien friend against this threat, he discovers the moment the Emily-thing starts drawing a glyph in the air and addresses him that he's bitten of more than he can chew. He freezes, its very voice like a knife at his throat. Yes, that is indeed Emily, and yes, that is a glyph. Her creativity and natural talent for the art is coming back to bite him in the worst way.

But as he prepares to summon an orb of water and hope for the best -- his hands are still working even if his legs aren't -- Carlisle finds himself pulled out of the way, saved by someone with far faster reflexes than he possesses. Though Glacius' arm knocks some of the wind out of him, he's quick enough with an answer.

"We can attempt exorcism," he hisses to Glacius under his breath, "but I don't know if it will work on a creature this powerful. I will need time to prepare."

The abomination may not feel threatened by this clergyman's magic, but that doesn't mean it won't react to the word 'exorcism'.

Screeching, it charges at the two of them, not caring who it hits. Either is good, both is better.

Edited 2016-11-23 18:17 (UTC)

Glacius doesn't have any time to respond to Carlisle's suggestion, nor does he have any more time to try and refrain from combat that could result in causing his friend pain or injury. The abomination rushes them with a shriek and he knows that if he holds back any longer, more people will get hurt--including the clergyman, who has stood by him and looked out for him on more than one occasion. Once again his hand has been forced into detestable conflict; the knowledge is enough to push a bellow of challenge from the otherworldly being's gills, one wrought with frustration and bitterness.

Fear, however, is nowhere to be found in the alien. As the abomination charges them both, Glacius does not waver--he stands firmly between it and Carlisle, ready to defend the man at any cost. With a simple gesture of his hand, a beam of light shoots up from the ground in front of the charging demon; if it does not divert its course or back away, it will find one of its leg impaled on the massive spear of ice that erupts from the earth a second later--and then struck again and again by repeated shatters as the ice alien unleashes the full and awesome brunt of his ranged offense.

As Glacius stands between him and certain death, Carlisle can only watch as the icy alien works his own kind of magic, turns that energy of his on the demon in the form of powerful attacks. For a moment, he's frozen there on the ground, his heart racing, pounding as though trying to escape his chest. And then he realizes he does not have time to panic. If he's going to do something useful -- something that can help his friend, his student, and himself -- he needs to do it now.

Pushing himself to his feet, Carlisle starts looking for a relatively clear spot on the ground. Thankfully, the area they're in is relatively restored compared to some parts of the city, which means there might actually be somewhere he can draw a glyph big enough for this abomination. The road has what he's looking for, but as he reaches into his satchel and pulls out a half-filled jar of ink, he realizes what he needs isn't space and materials so much as time.

He'll just have to work fast, then. Unscrewing the jar, he tears the bandage off his arm to use as a makeshift brush and gets to work. It won't be pretty, and it might be weaker than he'd like with how haphazardly it's crafted, but it will be a glyph.

The abomination sees the attack coming but doesn't have enough time to avoid it. However, it does what it can, and the spear of ice carves a gash into its leg rather than impale it.

Its pained scream is as much of Emily as it can muster, but it's still a twisted perversion of the girl's voice. It would go for another attack, but Glacius's ice shatters have it dodging. Most of the shatters miss, but the few that hit their target hurt enough to truly anger the monster.

In a lull between shatters (barely a lull, more like a half-second), it draws a quick defense glyph in the air, creating a barrier that will hold for a few seconds, more than enough time for the abomination to start working on something more complex.

The lull that the abomination is seeking comes soon enough--as soon as it gives out that pained scream, in fact. Glacius' various abilities are tied to his energy as much as they are his focus and will, and hearing that agony in his the voice of one of his closest friends, even as warped as it is, is enough to cause the latter two to waver noticeably. The shatters cease and break apart prematurely as sorrow flits clearly across his features, and he immediately sees the cost of his lapse. He's given his opponent the chance to set up a formidable defense, and he has no idea what it's going to take to break that, or what the creature behind it will do with the time it has been afforded.

Tossing his head, the alien forces himself to act despite the fact that he has evidence now that anything he does to this monstrosity will in fact be hurting Emily. He can only hope now that Carlisle will manage to drive this thing out before the fight escalates, and that his friend's freedom will be worth the temporary suffering. His hearts feel like they're pounding themselves apart with each beat, but he summons three large chunks of hail and launches them at the barrier to see how it will hold up against a direct physical assault without actually coming into contact with it himself.

As the demon shrieks, Carlisle does his damnedest to not think about his student and what she's going through. His hand shakes from the noise, and he curses under his breath, continuing his work and trying to make the best of it. In a vain attempt to shut out the fight that's happening mere feet from him, he mentally goes through his old notes, reciting as he inscribes another sigil.

"Abjuration. Used for warding, and can serve as both a shield and a blockade, if necessary."

And he would need that. What demons he has exorcised from his world were much smaller, less beastly than the monster fighting Glacius. Some were expelled through channeling alone, but others required smaller glyphs to seal away their foul auras. This is just that on... a much larger scale, he reminds himself. He can do this.

He moves to the next circle in his configuration. "Evocation, while often used for summoning, can be utilized in the reverse to force a possessor from its host. Make sure you specify for that around the platform, lest you accidentally expel the host from their own body."

He's not ever had that happen before, but there's a first time for everything. He has to make sure everything is right. He can do this. Next symbol.

"Charming, which is used for... er. Something, desth, I don't know, but it goes here!"

So much for holding onto his nerves, but as he sees the demon drawing another glyph out of the corner of his eye, he realizes he does not have time to do otherwise. He calls to Glacius and dips his bandage in ink again, heading for the activation point. Then it's just a matter of getting the demon over there and hoping it holds.

In the time it takes for the clergyman to draw his big fancy glyph, the abomination has finished its own and been charging it.

"Your god and your magic have no power over me," it says once the glyph is ready.

And to prove its point, it activates the glyph, unleashing shards of energy that are clearly meant to mimic the warrior's ice shatters. Their target is the clergyman who dares to attempt an exorcism.

Imitation is the sincerest form of mockery to the ice alien and his people, so when he sees those false shatters his mandibles flare and his gills hood, making his neck look not unlike that of an angry cobra's. Even worse is that they are aimed at his friend--a technique that should be used to protect is being turned against one of the people he swore to keep safe. "Carlisle--!" The alien belts out, partially warning and partially because he's unable to contain his horror. He knows what his shatter can do to regular human opponents, and the thought of seeing the clergyman torn apart like that...

The otherworldly moves immediately, realizing that he has only one chance to save his friend's life. He throws himself forward, catching the false shatters for Carlisle without a second thought; they erupt repeatedly against his chest and face, the vicious barrage enough to scatter his wits and break through his tough icy armor. One particularly loud CRACK punctuates the air, and with a stunted squawk Glacius spins to the ground and lands in a crumpled heap. Freezing fluid sprays over the clergyman as his protector falls... and something else bounces wetly off the ground to rest at his feet.

It's the alien's mandible, messily torn from the side of his face. A jagged, broken bone and several ripped anchoring tendons protrude from the end of the severed part, which is now pooling in its own blood. A few feet away, the collapsed warrior's limbs work weakly in the dirt; he's already trying to work himself back to full consciousness despite the gruesome injuries he's been dealt.

The abomination is bolstered by its victory -- because even though it didn't hit its target, it did damage, and now the alien is badly wounded. Good. It smirks, all vicious and bloodthirsty.

With the warrior struggling to get up, it decides to act swiftly. Even injured, he will be a powerful opponent, but the abomination can kill the clergyman before he gets back up.

So it darts forward, raking its claws at the clergyman's chest to try and tear him apart. Its claws are certainly sharp enough. If he doesn't die, he'll be down too, and then the abomination can escape the girl's friends and keep using her body and talent for its own purposes.

With his glyph finished, there's a moment where Carlisle feels emboldened. He's not one to feel confidence when facing the unknown, and the quandary of this exorcism does nothing to bolster his nerves; however, as he prepares himself to activate his glyph, he can't help but feel the least bit hopeful. Glacius is a powerful warrior, and Carlisle himself, albeit an amateur magician, is a capable healer. He— no, they can do this. He steps onto the point of activation -- it's too large for just his hands to serve as a conduit -- and the glyph slowly lights up, bit by bit. He bites back some initial tiredness clinging to him, his heart still racing as his energy works into every line of the painted seal. He must concentrate, he urges himself, pressing his hands together to contain his channel.

That concentration is almost broken as Glacius calls his name, leaps before him, and is pelted by the icy shards conjured by the demon, its own magic a bastardization of both the alien's and his own. As his defender collapses in a mangled heap, Carlisle feels the freezing spray against his face. It dots his glasses, his expression contorting as the disembodied mandible slides to a halt at his boot.

He is frozen in that moment, a torrent of emotions tearing through him: horror at the brutality; fear that the perpetrator will now come for him -- and it most certainly will, is. There's frustration he didn't inscribe faster or study harder so he could do so, and anger at his helplessness, that there's nothing he can do.

But there is something, and he must do it: not just for himself, but for Glacius and for Emily. He wants to run, either away or to his comrade's side, but forces himself to stay on his glyph, the light almost all the way around the circle. Even with his injuries, Glacius is trying to get back to his feet. He needs time, and perhaps, if nothing else, Carlisle can give him that. All he can do is hope his glyph works in some way, that she can be saved... that they all can be.

Carlisle steels himself and prepares to channel into his hands, hoping he might be able to deter the demon for another moment, but finds he never had a chance. The creature is far faster than him, and bolts right through his glyph, stepping across it before it is fully active. The clergyman hardly has time to process it, to see what happens before the demon rakes its claws against him. They tear through his tabard, through his jacket, through his flesh and down to his bone; the impact alone is enough to knock him off his feet, sending him skidding along the ground.

Though his senses are flooded with panic, Carlisle tries to rise, to get up against the pain in his chest; he fails, the injury and energy required to activate the glyph having completely drained him.

But as his eyes roll back into his head, he does see the glyph light up beneath the creature.

Edited 2016-11-25 03:27 (UTC)

Glacius struggles against the searing pain radiating up from his cheekbone and the side of his face, threatening to overwhelm him, to sever his tenuous grip on consciousness. He can't focus, he can barely see--he's not sure if his right eye is even intact any more and even if it was, there's too much blood streaming down his face, obscuring his vision. He feels as though he's been plunged into darkness... but then a light blossoms in the heavy shroud, like a tangible beacon of hope.The alien pulls in a struggling breath, fighting against the agony and finally managing to rise to his feet. He refuses to fail his friends now...

... But as he finally stands up and wipes the blood from his eyes, he sees that he has already done just that. Calrisle is on the ground, unconscious or maybe even worse judging from the gruesome tears in his torso... and the abomination still looks every bit as demonic, maybe even more so with the clergyman's blood dripping from its claws. The exorcism has clearly failed and his friend is still trapped in the demon's clutches... all because he wasn't capable of defending his friend like he had promised. As if that weight wasn't crushing enough, Glacius now realizes that there is only one way that he can prevent the abomination from finishing what it has started and moving on to do the same with the rest of the city.

Carlisle was the only one who could save Emily--he was the true protector, here. But the alien is merely a warrior, and his solution will be as it always has been. He will fight... he will take on the burden of taking a life to keep countless others safe, as he had to do once in the past before. This time, however, it is not the life of a cruel and callous convict... but the life of one of his closest friends... one of the people in this place that he swore to protect, that he swore to free. It was always an empty promise, wasn't it? He couldn't save her from this cave's walls, nor its ways--no more than he could protect the clergyman bleeding out before him.

The alien's failure complete, he now begins to shake, unable to help the heaving sounds of sorrow that well up from deep in his throat. A moment later and the alien tosses his head forward, the sobs breaking out into an ugly, anguished howl. "I'M SORRY," is all that Glacius can cry out as he smashes his fist into the ground one more time--and all of the negative energy coursing through him explodes, causing a spike of ice so massive that it dwarfs all of the shatters he's summoned in Hadriel thus far to erupt from the ground underneath the abomination. The glyph prevents his target from dodging and it is cleaved entirely in two, the halves of its body torn apart when the ice shatters. The abomination is clearly dead, and with it, its vessel.

He has taken Emily's life, killed one of his closest friends in this city. Now he is the only monster left.

my childhood spat back out the monster that you see - closed

run from her

:')

:'(

this is Fine

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tfw you play so many girls you keep writing her instead of his

story of my rp life

sighs loudly

sobs ugly...ly; also CW blood violence stabbing death

all the fucking tears

/is dramatic

fite her

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i did not intend for the baseball joke but i ran with it im sry

never be sorry <3

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for glacius and carlisle

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