cancry | Luxuria Intro Log

Luxuria Intro Log

PROCEEDING...
With the real super power of teamwork, the Executors have successfully managed to make their way through the Gula Underside and defeat the previous Authority there. With Gerda now freed from her past regrets and given the power of an Executor, Gula and its inhabitants seem to be in safe hands... for now at least. More interesting – or concerning, perhaps – is the tentative ally you've gained in the form of Birdie, the mysterious girl who attacked some of your number in the Superbia Underside. While she seemed to be nothing but an enemy back then, a surprising connection has been formed with who you now understand to be the Authority of Purgatory itself. While she doesn't necessarily believe the Executors will be able to repair Purgatory, she is at least willing to admit that she shares their goals of wanting to see Purgatory restored... either to its former state, or to something new. But what does that mean for the Executors? And what does that mean for Rei supposedly born from the Authority's discarded heart? There are still many questions the Executors need to answer and as a blast of dry, hot air blows up from the next layer, you can only hope that Luxuria holds the key to at least some of them...
LUXURIA
♪♫ Wet & Dry – Sakuzyo After the humidity and noise of the Gula Underside, passing down to the Lust Layer of Purgatory initially seems like a relief. The air here is dry and sharp and though you hear noise drifting up to meet you and see a whole rainbow of lights clustered together in the dark, it doesn't seem as though it'll be quite as overwhelming as some of the bustling Layers you've had the pleasure of exploring before. But as you set foot down into Luxuria and feel the heat of the ground under your feet, you begin to wonder if you might just have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire...

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...If remembering what I did to you was not enough to frighten you, then I scarcely want to know what else I've done.

[Because it's him, clearly. Is what he's assuming. The monster in the room. The maniac, the murderer, that which could not die (but clearly could).]

It wasn't-

[His voice broke off, Phoenix unwilling or unable to finish the thought. He shook his head, leaning on the counter with his back to Chiron.]

It wasn't you. It wasn't...It was my fault.

[Oh. ...Oh, dear thing. Chiron shifts from the doorway and approaches, not at all difficult to hear, and reaches out to rest a hand on a shoulder.]

[Coming closer and especially after making contact, it was far easier to see what Phoenix was trying to hide--his shoulders trembling, either from pain, tightly controlled anger, or both and a hundred more things at once.]

I knew the entire time--years, it had to have been years--and I never said a word. Why didn't I--why didn't he say anything? How could anyone just stand there and let someone they care about walk straight to their death without even--?

[He pulls Phoenix back into an embrace. The man had been there steadfast by his side through a number of terrible remembrances; the least he can do is be here for Phoenix in return.]

What did you know?

[Phoenix took a slow breath that was far less steady than he would have liked, holding it for a second or two.]

...At the altar, just before you and I fought. I saw...something, I don't know precisely what or how. Some kind of vision of the future. I saw that he was going to die to save the rest of the world.

And I just...let it happen.

...The prince in black.

No wonder you would have given everything for him. If he was to save the world.

[He turned, pressing his head to Chiron's shoulder. Part of him wanted to just start screaming until he could no longer speak, but that wouldn't accomplish anything.]

I don't care about that. Or...he didn't. [The distinction was unclear. But Phoenix adamantly refused to believe he would be that foolish, at least now.] There was no point in a world without him.

[...The words came too easily, and for a moment the room felt a good deal colder to Phoenix. He was dead, after all, and those logical pieces fit together too easily for comfort.]

[It accomplishes feeling better, Shiva's frozen tits man.]

It sounds as though there would not be a world without him, so perhaps what you wanted was a moot point.

[sounds inefficient!]

[Phoenix didn't answer for a long time, or perhaps only for a matter of seconds. His arms moved around Chiron automatically, clutching the back of his coat like a lifeline.]

Why didn't...why didn't I stop him?

And what do you think would have happened if you had?

...I don't know. We could have sought something, anything to prevent that. There must have been some other way. And even were that impossible, h...he would at least have known.

And you are so certain that he didn't know what was going to happen?

I'm not...sure. But that--that isn't the point, Chiron, I-...

Let's not pretend we don't know what evil your princeling was set out to slay. Seems he must have succeeded. Isn't that better? If you had said something, do you think he would have backed off, truly?

Don't act as though this is fair to either of you. If he-...if Noctis had known the person you were or the truth of anything that had happened, it isn't as though we would have simply killed you on the spot.

Noctis.

[He says the name, sounds it out, and it...feels right. It slots right into place, into an empty space, a space of static.]

Prince Noctis. I should hope he killed me on the spot. I think...that I was waiting for him, for ten long years.

...you were. [Ten years. Had it been so long, and had he truly kept so much to himself?] You were there when we arrived. I wasn't-- [A pause; that wasn't right, there were still others. Indistinct faces, names he couldn't remember, but important somehow.] --we weren't quite present, when the two of you clashed. But...

['He's been living a long time. In a world...he could share with no one.']

...

...I don't remember him arriving, or you. Only the waiting. The waiting.

[But this isn't about him. This is not about Chiron. This is about Phoenix and his guilt over knowing about the fate of the prince.]

You said you were shown a vision of the future before we fought, and you don't know how or why?

[He shook his head against Chiron's shoulder.]

I can't...quite say for certain what caused it. Or why me, specifically.

Okay. [He hates this, all around.] This upsets you. Are you upset that your effort feels like it came to nothing?

[Another careful breath--steadier, this time.]

I am upset because I--whoever I was--loved him. And I am upset because it feels as though I could have saved him if I had tried any harder. That if I had cared worth a damn, maybe I could have helped either of you.

[His mouth thins. This shouldn't feel so terrible. After all, Phoenix knows how much Chiron loved, still loves, Aera. And Phoenix is not attempting to break up with him or any of that. And yet.]

I saw how hard you fought, what you gave up, for his sake. I think it is safe to say that you gave a damn.

Then why...why do I feel as if I was completely useless?

I cannot tell you why you chose not to fight fate. You must have had good reason.

...Tell me about him? He's so terribly important, and yet I only recall the barest, briefest glimpse of him lying on that rain-soaked altar. Come, let's sit, and you can get whatever you'd like off your chest.

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cw vague suicidal ideation

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