Vice Director (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sevenvirtues2016-04-19 07:55 pm
vicedirector) wrote in sevenvirtues2016-04-19 07:55 pm
(no subject)
You awaken to blackness. Frightening, although familiar--this is the same terrible thing you narrowly avoided during your first trip into Lebensbaum. The pain of your death is still real, echoes of the wounds you suffered appearing on your skin. Inspecting your surroundings will tell you that you've woken up inside of the cooled, empty bonfire pit....and the town as it was is nowhere to be seen.
The sky is a whirlwind of blank, dark void. What previously acted as roadblocks on either side of the town seems to have moved upward, blocking out most of the sun's light. The street is barren, filled with piles of broken concrete, shattered glass, and smoking craters where many of the buildings used to be. Old bloodstains dot the pavement, mixing in with overturned cars and crumbling brick walls. Lebensbaum is a dead town, in more ways than one.
Except for the hotel. It stands, as dusty and abandoned as it ever was, but no worse for the wear. Scorch marks can be seen on the ground around it in a clear border, as though it had a barrier protecting it from whatever destroyed the village. If you venture inside, everything is in its place, as though the outside wasn't completely obliterated.
The living can be seen walking around, going about their daily lives, and if you concentrate, you can even see the buildings as they once were--in working order, clean, and in one piece.
As of Monday on Week 10, however, there is a door, seemingly pasted into the middle of the street. As the days tick by, the doors will increase in number, one for each victim.
The sky is a whirlwind of blank, dark void. What previously acted as roadblocks on either side of the town seems to have moved upward, blocking out most of the sun's light. The street is barren, filled with piles of broken concrete, shattered glass, and smoking craters where many of the buildings used to be. Old bloodstains dot the pavement, mixing in with overturned cars and crumbling brick walls. Lebensbaum is a dead town, in more ways than one.
Except for the hotel. It stands, as dusty and abandoned as it ever was, but no worse for the wear. Scorch marks can be seen on the ground around it in a clear border, as though it had a barrier protecting it from whatever destroyed the village. If you venture inside, everything is in its place, as though the outside wasn't completely obliterated.
The living can be seen walking around, going about their daily lives, and if you concentrate, you can even see the buildings as they once were--in working order, clean, and in one piece.
As of Monday on Week 10, however, there is a door, seemingly pasted into the middle of the street. As the days tick by, the doors will increase in number, one for each victim.
no subject
I would advocate that course of action, though my reasoning is admittedly much more petty.
[ He's definitely the sort of person to bear very murderous grudges, but that's no surprise. In fact, that's why Gilbert has been doing an excellent job thus far to make sure Break doesn't even see Sadie, probably... ]
My own experience in magic is fairly limited to binding circles and practical things like that, so I admittedly don't know much, but I would be inclined to agree. Even if things work quite differently here, I would also guess that it's rather universal that creatures like demons can't be trusted, no matter what name they go by.
[ He shrugs, then crosses his arms. ]
Clover managed to tell Rhys and I some things about what's happening here, but admittedly it's limited. It seems that Lucifer may have plans of her own, and that isn't a surprise, but it does worry me.