| Planting ideas and propositions | ||
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| Summary: Okay, so did this happen long ago and we felt we couldn't post it or did this just happen and we felt we needed to fill in some missing gaps? That's up to you to decide. Insert this between Mr Eff and Caliga's trip to Hell and Crux returning from Hell himself. Pay attention, this explains some of the stuff we've been alluding to...   |
This particular area is stretched out to form a wide battleground, so those who enter from the Wasteplanes are dealt with before they can reach any cover. There are very short staclamites of a hand's width from the ground as the only form of protection. In the distance are massive walls of skyscraper height of the fortress walls of various cities of Hell, the skies filled with bat-like figures both massive and small- and what looks like dragons- even gargoyles and eldritch-like gods may be found here. This is the world of chaos, absolute lawlessness, the pinnacle of those looking for a worthy challenge or to die or suffer eternally. At this particular location there is a Hellgate, the transport of those moving through the various hells. This one is on a circular black marble slab that seems to scream when you walk on it. The gate itself looks monsterous, but not so much as the creatures that pass back and forth through it. It is the path of passage between the lower 'True' Hells where demons live and the upper Wasteplanes, the infinite planes of chaotic behavior where hardly anything can live. Where the plane, rather then the denizens, are your worst nightmare. It's not every day that Crux finds himself at the wasteplanes' hellgate. It doesn't do a great deal for his mood that he'd already moved on past here before he was summoned. In fact, it does terrible things for his mood, but he doesn't frown. Getting angry and trite is only useful when he can channel those emotions into a useful outcome. Here in hell, they pretty much only make things worse, so he does his best to yawn it off. It's not really that hard. He hasn't slept since he died, so... he's pretty tired. There's no noise, no vibration, nothing to detect it's pressence when suddenly, and rather abruptly, the form of Senor Diablo appears behind Crux and narrows it's eyes at him. Shaking his head slowly at the sleepless advent he smirks slightly and calmly states, "Mister Caedon? I believe we need to have a talk..." Crux doesn't have his 'other' eyes open, so he doesn't see Diablo arrive. However, he does become aware of his presence just a little before he speaks. Calmly, Crux turns, and gives his insomniac stare toward the devil. "Indeed. Do you really wear prada, or was that just a marketing gimmick?" Alright, obviously the lack of sleep is weakening Crux's fourth wall. It'll heal. Maybe. Senor Diablo nods his head, seeming to catch the statement better than he should have. "Yes... well, that really depends on the impression I need to leave in the conversation. I've even been known to wear a blue dress or two. Although I usualy save that sort of thing for tormenting our mutual friend." The demon guestures around the landscape with a taloned hand. "Are you enjoying your unrestricted tour of the Wasteplanes? Normally there's seals in place to prevent such a thing, but you happen to be notorious about getting around such things, aren't you?" He smiles as he folds his hands behind his back. "Part of the reason I'm here, infact." There's an awkward shrug from Crux, and he takes a seat on a rock. About three seconds later, he realizes it's not really a rock, but... that's neither here nor there. "I have a reputation? That's some bitter news." He crosses his arms, and raises an eyebrow at Diablo. "... I assume you'll elaborate even if I don't feign interest? Good." Obviously being in hell hasn't done much for his disposition. Well, Crux's been rather grumpy ever since he realized what his punishment was. And it wasn't being in hell. Senor Diablo's smile thins to a slight grimmace. "We watch things here, Mister Caedon. We have to know what to do with the people who come into our domain. We have to know why they're here so that we can provide a better punishment for their actions." He pauses to let his words have more of an impact. "You've done a great many things, and amoung them you've been inadvertently responisble for the deaths of whole masses of people. Not all of them deserving. You've broken the established order, you've disrupted time and space, and you've been a smart ass to boot. I respect that, Crux Caedon. I really do." Crux raises an eyebrow as he listens to Diablo speak. He's really not all that used to people actually being /able/ to watch him for extended periods of time, but he supposes he should've pretty much counted on that once he couldn't go anywhere he wanted. "...Well, you know. I do what I can." Actually, Crux never was very fond of the deaths of innocents. But... when solar systems get destroyed... it's rather hard to avoid a few innocent deaths. There were even a few innocent Exalts left on Cesta... ... Alright, not very many, but ... a few. "...I assume your flattery's going somewhere." Senor Diablo nods his head, his expression blank. "You've done some damage to Twisted's Council. I've grown tired of those self riteous semi-gods and thier obsession with keeping every world in it's prestine glass cases. The multiverse is becoming unified and these arrogant fools think they can stop it. They don't care for the people who live upon those worlds. They don't care how their actions affect anyone but themselves and that moronic entity who gives them commands. They don't even care about those who reside in the very world they claim to control." Slowly he begins to pace in a circle around Crux as he listens, "Now, I'm not supposed to interfere with the actions of those 'above' but you've caused me to realise something very strange." He pauses, narrowing this eyes. "Those that you've recently destroyed didn't come to our domain. I was looking forwards to dishing out some justice of my own upon them..." Turning towards the advent he frowns, "They are protected, and I don't know by whom or why. I need to know. I want them destroyed..." Crux raises an eyebrow at that. Sure, some of the council were probably innocent. Seflit and Iloken among them. But ... Lalorien /had/ to go to hell. "... Really? Not even Lalorien?" Yeah, he's not afraid to admit his thought process. "... I would've thought there was no more fitting end than for her to end up here. Maybe fall in love with Cale's evil twin, just for the ultimate in irony and self-torment." Yes, Crux's got the punishment thing down, too, though he usually doesn't think about that kind of thing too much. Senor Diablo smiles, "I see you understand, or at least you think you do. No matter. There's going to be a tournament soon. It can be arranged to get you into it if you wouldn't mind investigating these matters for us. Clearly I can't. That would raise too many alarms, but you've been known to go months below the normal eyes of those that watch. All you'd have to do is find the answers for yourself and we'd see enough to know what needs to be done. You'd likely do this anyways, I believe, once you figured out a way of escaping here so you've hardly anything to loose." Unfolding his arms, he sips from a wine glass he somehow acquired. "Simple, no?" Crux crosses his arms and leans back on the rock. There's nothing to lean back upon, yet he manages to maintain his balance fairly decently as he stretches his legs out. "...The tournament to restore someone to life, right? Yes, I read the plot summaries, even down here." He stretches his arms above his head, and tilts said head to one side. "...I'm entering whether you 'let me' or not. Why should I agree to help hell? Sure, I dislike the council as much as you do, but that enemy of my enemy thing doesn't hold water." He makes a thumbs-down gesture, and continues. "..In case you didn't notice, I'm down here because of my actions, not because I'm on your side." Senor Diablo smirks, "Of course, of course.. but you'll have to, won't you? It will naaaag and annoy you until you have no choice. I mearly plant ideas, I don't give orders. The only diffrence between -helping- you get to the tournament and -letting- you is this, we have a Council here as well. As above, so below and obviously ours is a bit of a perverse version of the one above the streets of Twisted. An Anti-Council if you will. Wanting to see the worlds unified, wanting to see the wrong doers punished, the innocent protected. These things wouldn't appeal to you of course. Nor would the offer to join such a group I'm sure. Never the less we could use someone with your tallents. They would be encouraged here. Plus you'd be in a position to ensure that another Council such as Twisted doesn't get recreated." He sips from his glass again. Being the devil must be such hard work. "We'd even let you decide poor Lalorien's fate once we discover the whereabouts of that particular soul. ...what say you?" Crux scoffs, standing to his feet after a moment and shaking his head. "...You must do this a lot. Guiding people to do what you want them to do." He cricks his neck, and shakes his head a second time when he's done. "... I'm not really a team player. If I figure out what you want to know, I'll consider sending the information your way. I'm not unreasonable. But I'm not working with a bunch of people who think they know what's best. Hell, I have a hard enough figuring out what /I/ think is best. Convincing others isn't my style." Senor Diablo shakes his head and laughs, a creepy gesture from someone like him. "Our Council wants to kill each other, Mister Caedon. It certainly doesn't like to work with itself. I'm much more tollarant than my companions which is why I'm left as the one who must speak with those whom we need to pass on our 'suggestions'. There is no leader in Hell. There are beings like 'Laviathan' who manifest as giant beating hearts and puzzles, or what have you. But those things are simply there to inspire blind obiedence in the stupid. You are far from stupid, otherwise we wouldn't be having this nice little chat. Imagine several angry heads screaming at each other and the best ideas of each being passed on as muse to those who would benefit most from it. That is how we do things here. That is how we've -always- done things here. It's a program as old as malace itself, and it's never been in fault. Although the minds in those screaming heads are sometimes questionable." He gives that unsettling chuckle again. "You could amuse yourself with the idea that you where in charge if it would make it any easier. Certainly dear Alessa believes as much of herself. You'd not have to convince anyone of anything. Simply be present and voice your opinions. Perhaps assist us in planting an idea or two. In return you'd be given full unrestricted control of your powers with no consequences to stop you from using them." He finishes his wine and the glass itself vainishes in a puff of smoke, leaving his hands free to be folded behind his back again. "You'd likely not be allowed in heaven after that, but that's hardly an option anyways, is it?" Smirking he turns and begins to walk away leaving Crux alone once more. "I don't expect an answer of you, Mister Caedon. I don't expect a report of your actions. We will watch as we always have and you will do what you've always done. What matters is your will. When you decide it beneficial, the abilities will awaken and when you decide to return you'll be told what other gifts we're required to give you. You'll become on par if not greater than all those on Twisted's Council. Remember that. If you don't take our offer, then eventually you'll die and that offer will become null and void. It would be much more fun for us all if you'd take the offer now, though. Better than dragging our hoves in the mud..." Crux blinks, listening, and getting the look of someone who's poring over a contract. Yet even so, the instant Diablo's done speaking, that look of interest disappears. "...Noted." He has a few choice things he'd like to say to the devil, but just because one wants to say something doesn't mean it's a wise idea to say it. Well, maybe he wouldn't be so hesitant when he was outside, but in hell, it's been made pretty clear to the Advent that the devil can screw with you no matter how cool you think you are. "...I'll think about it. Though you should know, paying me with my own coin isn't exactly a bargaining chip that's likely to work in your favor. Giving me back my own abilities... telling me I could be at least as powerful or more powerful than people that I'm /still/ more powerful than, limited as I am... I don't usually view 'being fair' as a favor." He glances back over his shoulder at the hellgate. It's going to be annoying having to make his way through all these planes again. At least the desert won't bother him, this time around. Senor Diablo abuptly stops mid-stride, and almost out of ear shot, to turn back and speak. Although his voice is in a near whisper his words are as clear as if they where spoken face to face. "Yes, but with my way you wouldn't have to cheat." Leaving his words in the air, the form of the demon vanishes leaving nothing but swirling smoke to fill the void in the air where he stood. Crux makes a small, irritated sound as Diablo disappears, and he shakes his head, speaking as though the Devil were still there. Probably because he assumes he'll be heard all the same. "...You should have realized it by now..." His words drift across the barren plane, as he walks up to the hellgate, putting a hand on the gate, easily three to four thousand times larger than anything he should be able to open. With the lightest of pushes, it opens as though he had thrown the doors open with a five hundred foot tall giant mecha. It's all in knowing the trick. "... I love cheating." | |
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