cancry | descent

[ None of you have ever seen a transfer of Authority like this – almost universally, it comes before things have ever reached this point and the Executors wield that power against the corrupted Aberrant. But with Ardyn siphoning that power, that status, the once impossibly fearsome dragon looks just a touch less fearsome than before. The horrible crushing heat that had been pressing down from the sky begins to break up and dissipate and seeing that cloud cover begin to break apart prompts a god-awful howl from Samael.

Or perhaps a scream. A horrible, terribly human scream.

Lion's hand breeches one of those cracks on the belly and from the inside of it, pneuma comes hosing out. But this time it's different – it's hot and liquid and molten, flowing like purple lava from the belly of the beast. Her wings beat and she takes to the sky again with Lion still clinging on – but you see even as she lifts off that huge chunks of her scales and claws are beginning to crumble away and shed. You're so close – just a little more to go! ]

[As she starts trying to take off, Phoenix moves to take a swing at the joint between wing and shoulder.]

[mostly because he can't the fuck reach you all the way up there, get back down here.]

[That sure is a weak point, and turns seem a little fuzzy right now but it's surely been long enough for her to use Frost Bomb again.]

Take her down!

[ The longer the heat presses down on her, the more she can feel herself losing to her sin. Chiron becoming the new Authority alleviates some of the pressure she feels, the Wrath brimming just beneath her scales, but Galea knows a weak point when she sees one.

DRAGON TUSSLE, ROUND TWO. Galea roars, snarling, hooks her claws deep into crumbling scales. She's going to tear Samael apart. ]

Not so overpowered now, are you? I'll rip you to shreds and feed you your own skeleton!

[Does that even make -- whatever, she's cackling and swinging her axe, casting a huge fire-and-ice tornado at Samael.]

[ Oh goddess, LAVA?!?!

Yeah he is keeping the shield up and maybe also lowering it a bit closer to the ground so if it any of that comes there way it can at least be diverted around himself and the ones he’s protecting. ]

[Oh... oh lava running down his arm. That's bad! Lion bellows, his armor saving him from instant firey death but not from the pain of it. Still though he hangs on, a fall from this height is likely to kill him even as an Executor if he landed badly. As Samael is peppered with more attacks he starts to claw his way toward her back- as much as he wants to keep tearing at her belly it would surely kill him to stay where he is.

So instead he clambers up up... towards a wing, the same one Phoenix attacked... and tries to grab it and wrench as hard as his super strength can manage]

[For his part, here to assist as a brand new Authority, Ardyn holds out a hand and crystalline summons up his fuckoff huge scythe. His outfit flutters, and instead of his normal white robes so ubiquitous to his Executor outfit, he now looks...well, like slightly more of a trash-heap than usual. It's fine!

With Samael in the air, the dragon might still be out of range without a good warp or two, and touching is right out.]

Seems Lion might attempt to ride the damned thing. [He sounds more impressed than worried. He takes off at a run, leaping up with a swing of his weapon toward the other wing, wondering if perhaps he still might be able to catch it without wasting a warp-] Make way!

[why couldn't it have been her "because you have better things to do, veil" shut up she wants to ride a dragon and now she'll never get to "veil you were literally riding a dragon a few minutes ago" woe is her! woe!]

[sir your new form looks somehow worse than hers does, and she's literally got shards sticking out of her from being impaled.]

[Girls, girls- it's not a competition! You're both extremely worrying and as your medical professional she is highly concerned.]

[Something feels embarrasingly wrong here.]

[Medic reaches out with Mantle's tendrils, to strike and to drain... but also, one last time, with her senses.]

[Samael is hurt, and furious, and dying.]

[Somehow, it seems important that she watch as closely as she can, so that at the end the dragon won't feel alone.]

[ Even this deep into Purgatory, even running on the fumes of a hate and rage that could destroy an entire Layer of the afterlife... not even Samael can stand up to the combined might of the Executors at their best.

She only manages to get a few feet off the ground before her wing ruptures, splintering thanks to the efforts of Phoenix and Lion. Down, down she goes, crashing down with an incredible din... directly into the powerful assault from the rest of the Executors. Wolfsbane's tornado whips Veil's Frost Bomb up with itself and combined, they smash into Samael shatter the horns adorning her head, removing one of her most deadly weapons.

The dragon howls and beats its remaining wing to try and get back onto the end, but just as soon as it summons up a breeze, Ardyn's scythe cuts through it like butter – the scalding, raging power of the Wrath Authority turned against its previous owner. Like that, there's absolutely no escape from the might of her fellow dragon's claws. They strike true and with a horrible wet ripping noise, a huge chunk of Samael's scales are shattered and broken away, leaving globs of lava leaking from her wounds.

For a moment, she stills. But then – Medic is the first to feel it, connected to the great beast as she is. Hate. Hate. Hate. Broken and dying and dead as she is, even having her body crumble isn't enough to extinguish that sort of rage. The dragon's shattered and broken form lunges forward, aiming to close its jaws over the closest Executor - ]

[For a moment, it feels like it's over.

And a moment later, the pitiful thing lives on. Such is the power of hatred, of sheer unending wrath.

The damned thing shudders and gurgles and sizzles and lunges.

And then Samael's head is the only thing moving, jaws wide, what is left of her eyes frantic. Drops, then to the ground with a finality as Ardyn's scythe removes it from the rest of her body.]

Be still.

[Spoken like an order, a pale gleam to his skin and a few dripping lines of pneuma-like Scourge beginning to form upon his face.

The dragon begins to dissolve, remaining skin and scales becoming like rose petals, its features underneath turning to mounds of molten lava. The resulting flowery mulch and cooling lava mix, steam, sizzle, slowly, slowly, slowly, as she becomes her own grave.

And then it is over. There is no memory that flashes through their minds to touch them, whatever left of the mind of this creature all but burnt away to naught but ash after a long slumber in rage and madness.

Execution complete.

Which then leaves, perhaps, the matter of those left.]

And so ends another layer.

[He breathes in slow, his features schooling back to normal, and breathes out slow as he turns from the smoldering corpse. He raises a hand to his hat, something he has never thought to wore in all his time in Purgatory, his weapon dismissed in a tinkling of pink crystal. A few steps, and then--

--he steps up.

You begin to realize that your surroundings are slowly starting to change. What once was nothing but rubble and ruin, something that had been here once, long ago, but reduced to nothingness, now begins to rearrange itself. Not the whole of it, not all at once, but the damage before Ardyn begins to clear, and broad steps begin to form before him. And further, and up, and those with sight to see will come to see a building coming into existence, towers reaching up into the heavens. And up and up and up--too tall to even glimpse the top of. Past the steam, at first, until you realize the steam is no longer steam, but a layer of dark, vaguely purple cloud cover. Or, you think it might be clouds. The building seems to be a glimmering masterpiece, if not for some damage seen even on the outside. Torn banners, old holes in the walls occasionally, with exposed concrete and rebar. Rubble from Samael's former wrath slide aside like forming a path, a few streetlights dotting alongside it.

Ardyn is the surviving Authority of this layer, after all. It's beginning to form, reshape, to his preferences. There's nothing else here.

The streetlamps flicker on one by one, but their light is not electricity. The layer is being lit by purple flame it seems. He pauses on the steps, sweeping his hat from his head, and stares up at the towers, seeming to take in an awe-inspiring sight.]

I imagine you have questions. [Yeah, no shit.] Let me begin with the first that comes to mind. I realize that perhaps I have not properly introduced myself.

[He turns to the others and bows low with a flourish.]

Chiron is a name belonging to another man. You may call me Ardyn. [He straightens and sets his back atop his head at a jaunty angle to match the crooked smirk on his face.] Since I could never convince any of you to call me Your Majesty.

...

Hello Lord Ardyn, your city is very lovely.

[Lion says as he plods out from the melting mass of cooling lava and flowers, clots of both stuck to his hair.

Before falling face down on the pavement, practically re-dead]

Don't encourage him.

[unfortunately, phoenix cares a whole lot]

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