"Can Cry" Mod Account (
cancrymods) wrote in
cancry2022-02-18 07:36 pm
Gula Underside Log
As you make the now familiar descent, the screeches and chatterings of the Underside's inhabitants swim up to meet you alongside a suffocating wall of heat. The Gula Underside unfolds itself before you in jewel colours and sweltering heat. In stark contrast to the Rusted City stripped bare and the sterile Undercity, the Gluttony Underside is bursting with life - and danger. This densely packed rainforest spills out in all directions like a natural maze and you're going to have to pull out all the stops to find Gerda before something else does - or before it finds you. | |
![]() ♪♫ Floating -Liquidly- – Sakuzyo The jungle is thickly clustered with huge palm trees rising to form an almost impassable canopy that only opens out occasionally when branches shift or when the wind blows, revealing the dim green light of the Underside's sickly looking sky. As you look up, you occasionally see the shadows of Revenants (or at least you HOPE they're Revenants) darting around high above your head. The ground is blanketed in luscious undergrowth that feels soft underfoot - loamy moss, tangled patches of grass, leaves. Occasionally, the uneven ground gives way to puddles of water or patches of loose, sloppy mud that you're forced to wade your way through if you want to proceed. Fortunately (or unfortunately), the jungle is so dense that you're never not within reaching distance of a sturdy tree or rock you can use to steady yourself. Somewhere in this place is Gerda and your way further down into Purgatory. Let's hope you can make your way through unscathed. Due to the sheer scale of this Underside, explorations will proceed slightly differently. The Executors will be split into three teams – two to explore the Underside itself and the third being the team assigned to this layer's Boss Combat. Please see below for your role assignments.
⚝ SOUTHBOUND: The Executors exploring the south are Rei, Genius, Mona, Achilles, Ariel and Phoenix. ⚝ THE WATERING HOLE: Boss Combat volunteers, report!
Uneven Footing: Given how wild the terrain here is, you might find that it's a bit hard to get stable footing when you're running to and fro here. Some of this is varied elevation but a lot of it is varied textures too. Stumble too close to anywhere with running water and you'll be slipping and sliding all up and down the Underside! ⚝ Revenant Types Present: Charles, Minturno ![]() | |



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[ There's still a touch of that sharpness to her tone, but otherwise she just sounds a little... sullen? It's sort of hilarious to imagine her sulking up there in the tree... ]
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Is it so strange to imagine that I might like to know what you would do and why you do it? You, who has such a vested interest in what we do? You've been a shadow of a presence in our afterlives nearly since we came into awakening. You made a very fine attempt at setting me to rest with a blade through me. I care very much about someone like that.
[It need not be a positive emotion for it to be care. She's a concern, certainly.]
cw: suicidal ideation
[ Still in that sullen tone. It seems for a moment like she's going to leave it there, but when she speaks up again her voice is a little gentler. ]
... I still remember. All of it, for as long as I've ever been here. I remember what it felt like for my mind to fracture apart under the weight of the years and to know that even if I gave in to my despair and even if I sought to make it all stop... nothing would make it stop. I could only hope that I could somehow slip back into a peaceful sleep and let it pass me by, unawares.
No one could give me that dream. But... this is not a fate anyone should endure. I could, at least, do it for the rest of you.
cw: suicidal ideation
With time, such as it is here, he can at least glance at it briefly without going utterly mad. But he does remember. He can delve into it, the years of nothing. In some ways, at least she had something--a job, people if fleetingly. He had the darkness, the eternal pain, his own mind and the hallucinated thoughts. Aera's disdain and Somnus' contempt. The sound of his own breathing, and then the sound of silence when he occasionally stopped doing so. The sound of his heartbeat. The sound of every creak and shift in the massive chains holding him in place. Distantly--so distantly--the sound of the ocean when the storms became furious, and thunder when the Fulgarian showed his displeasure.
And himself. And himself. And himself. Seconds and days were the same, and weeks and years as well. Every moment of time moving forward that felt infinitesimally small and so so wide with no ability to tell and no ability to care.
When he came out the other side, he was understandably a wreck. Some wretched gremlin of a man who thought him a prized experiment who wanted to goad him into joining a war with people he was so far removed from that--none of it mattered. He didn't care. He still said his prayers for food but barely ate. Drank quite a bit. Read what he could, trying to play catch up with the history and technology, but more or less floated through his time like a ghost.
It feels too big and too vast for his skull to contain, darkness bursting at the seams. He holds his head in his hands, heavy breathing transforming into laughter, a noise clearly unhinged from reality. Scourge drips from his blackened eyes, dribbles from his mouth. It evaporates the same as pneuma.
It beats screaming, he supposes.
When he finally regains control of himself, the memories settling back into locked boxes, he lies back on the rock, arms spread, chest heaving.]
You realize this means you should help us, I hope. [Such a rational, calm thing to say with only breathlessness to give it away after that fit.] Fix the Cogs. You can be the first one through to go to whatever lies beyond and leave this old self behind. I'll be right behind you. I know not what killed the unkillable, but continued existence is...[he flits a hand through the air, twisting his wrist that he might pluck the right word from the foggy branches above his head] burdensome.
Or you could let us strike as many blows to you as are needed to send you to sleep. You needn't fight anymore.
cw: suicidal ideation
Burdensome. Yes, I agree. And... I suppose I'm grateful that even now, you would attempt to offer help.
[ There's a shifting, a creak in the trees and then a gentle thump. A landing. ]
But the Cogs will not allow me through. I've already tried.
cw: suicidal ideation
[It is possible the Cogs don't let her through because she is of this place. No life exists to reincarnate into. Might it have something to do, also, with not having Rei as part of her? Possible, though he knows not how much.
Chiron sits up, leaned back on on arm.]
Does your own blade work against you? If not, I'll attempt to be as quick and merciful as possible and send you back to Limbo.
cw: suicidal ideation, self harm if you squint
[ Rei didn't just pop out cleanly all on her own, after all. ]
With things as they are, though... I must admit, I'm hesitant to allow you to try.
cw: suicidal ideation-ish
What, frankly, could I possibly do to make you hesitate? Do you not trust this face?
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What would happen to it, should I cease to be?
[ She lets that sink in for a moment. ]
What would happen to all of you?
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Which makes this an ever-rotating wheel. [With a dramatic sigh. And yet so very tired.] If that weren't the case, I might suggest the whole damned thing would fall to pieces, and that might actually be a good outcome. But if your power, your responsibility, simply goes to whoever defeats you, then sooner or later whoever has that power will go down a similar path of madness and regretful emotion.
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[ She gives a breath that sounds almost like a laugh. ]
It truly would be kinder for all of this to break apart – for it to shatter at the root. Don't you think?
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...I'm going to presume you know no way of doing it, else you would have done so. Or you would have tried.
But if it's all gone, that means no Cogs. No reincarnating into something new. Perhaps no afterlife at all.
[And would that be so bad?]
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But that would be the end for everyone – and everything. Everyone who ever has and ever will be born either snuffing out like a candle or spending eternity screaming alone in the darkness.
[ There's a wry note to her voice, as if to say: what else is new?
Muffled by the fog, there's the crunching of undergrowth beneath her feet as her footsteps draw closer. ]
But... perhaps if it can be dismantled... then something new can be created from the pieces. Something better.
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[Better to pay attention to the footsteps, to feel a line of tension in him even if they're playing nice. Better to think on that last bit of information than to dwell on the possibility of An End, finite and infinite both.]
You have power over this place. But how much change can you truly affect?
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[ Her footsteps come to a halt and she gives a thoughtful hum. ]
... Perhaps it would take more than one Authority to do much of anything at all.
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We've...some that share Authority over some of the layers. I don't think they've sought to do anything with their powers, however. Perhaps a little experimentation is in order? To see what they can change. How it feels. How much power they have in such a relatively short amount of time.
And if they who would wield the power of Purgatory might be able to dismantle Purgatory, there may not be any need for Authorities at all. Could they not make it so? I...do not know the extent of power Authorities truly have.
It's...something to consider. Another time, perhaps? If the plan seems more viable... [If they get to the Cogs and can't fix them; if they get to the Cogs and can and realize that perhaps there's a better way. Surely Mona might be able to have a strong opinion on this. He waves a hand.] An interesting proposition to be discussed at length. Without your dear other half around. I've little doubt that we'll cross paths again, little bird.
...Although. [And he makes to stand, a slow and casual thing with a lean on his scythe, dusting himself off.] It does beg the question, I think. Why are you here? It seems unlikely to be mere coincidence. And yet you seemed so caught off guard that one of our member wandered in here at all.
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[ She seems to expect that to be it – so when he voices his question, it catches her off guard. And laughs. ]
... Even as broken as I am, I can still be of some use. Duty is all I have left. If there are Revenants threatening to make their way to the souls here, I must dispose of them.
[ Another breath. ]
... You truly wish to continue to the bottom? Knowing what awaits you?
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Still. For as exhausted as he is, as distressing if enlightening as this conversation has been, he gives a small smile.]
Mm...protector of these wayward souls to the end. For whatever it's worth, she might like you if given the chance to see you as this.
[The temptation to say 'for what you are' is there, but. None of them truly know what she is, after that monstrous semi-transformation.]
Or to see you at all. Do you even see? [After Phoenix, he'll hardly judge.]
1/3
[ For the second time in a row, his question catches her off guard. Or perhaps it's simply easier to latch onto that than it is to acknowledge whatever else he might have said. Then comes a short breath of understanding. Or maybe resignation. ]
... yes. I do. The... adornments... are not for my benefit.
[ There's a pause, as if she needs it to steady herself, and then she steps out of the fog. ]
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Even as broken and distorted as it is, though, her face is familiar.
And why wouldn't it be? ]
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Still, he has to take a breath. A fractured doll of her own making, presumably.]
I'm going to come closer. Don't be alarmed.
[Because warping to disappear and just as instantly reappear across the muck to quite close to Birdie might produce an automatic stabbing response without a heads up, and we all want to avoid that please and thank you. He reaches out a hand as though to touch, like he would like to stroke her face as though comforting Rei. He doesn't, only lets it hover in periphery.]
It's for the benefit of others, mm? Do you think you look like a monster? Or you simply don't want to be mistaken for the likes of her?
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Let's not lie to each other and pretend it isn't a startling sight. [ Her voice isn't precisely venomous, but it's irritated. ] Would you trust something with a face like this, no matter how much it proclaimed it wished to help you?
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[And he can feel the shift, at least in some sense, given that for once he's doing so deliberately: the deathly pallor of his skin, the dark veins, the oozing dripping inky scourge, the blackened sclera adding the the brightly unnatural gold of his eyes.]
And yet. I seem to be trusted nevertheless.