towerofanimus | There is no repentance.

Characters: Enoch and anyone
Setting: All around the tower, Oct 24 until the end of the event (please note a day or range of days and floor in your subject line!)
Format: I'm starting in prose, but I'll match you
Summary: After two encounters, Enoch's finally succumbed completely(or nearly so) to his transformation's urges, going after people who he knows have sinned. Or those who do so in front of him...
Warnings: There will be violence if confronted with a known "sinner", maybe death?

It took a couple of encounters and a little over a week of time. But Enoch isn't hiding anymore. He wanders the stairs with his Arch out and held in one hand, his stride confident and purposeful. He has a stern look fixed on his face, though his eyes may at times appear troubled.

He's searching for sinners. He hasn't yet realized there are no other means of getting candy than stealing, which is a good thing; that would make everyone in a costume guilty of the sins of theft and knowingly condemning another to die. As it is, there are people he knows who he will attack on sight: Those who he knows have signed away their souls. Those who would take them. He who has stolen. He who has killed God. He who allies with a demon. They who are demons. And those who torture, harm children, attempt to kill - he makes a detour to a terminal for those before continuing his patrol.

But he isn't without some piece of himself left, as his sometimes-troubled eyes might hint. Somewhere inside, he doesn't want to kill. So he does all he can. He shouts a warning, the only warning that makes any sense to his warped mind.

"All you who have sinned, your time for judgment has come!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When you've seen both Heaven and The Darkness for yourself, you tend to realize how important not selling a soul is.

Eh, I don't see why you'd worry so much. First deal with being alive, yeah? Then when you die, you can worry about that.

But The Darkness keeps its souls.

*He shakes his head.* There's more to the world than life.

Yes, and you can worry about the rest when you don't have life to busy yourself with, yeah?

Not exactly. If your soul's been claimed by a demon somehow, then it's too late once you've died.

That's what they tell you, but that's not actually true at all, you know.

[Jack mock whispers at Enoch.]

It's only too late when you've decided to give up.

*Oh and now you're trying to go all philosophical on him, how cute. Too bad he's not actually talking philosophy.*

"They" were angels. I doubt they're wrong.

*Well it was less the angels telling him directly than that being the impression he got over time as he traveled with them. Same difference.*

Well, there's your problem.

[Jack arches an eyebrow.]

You can't use angels for reference in anything.

*Enoch's wings immediately bristle like a dog's hackles. Oops?*

Why not?

[This is Jack rolling his eyes at you, man. ROLLING.]

Well. Because they're angels.

That doesn't answer the question.

Of course it does! The only thing further stuck inside the box than an angel is a demon and that's only because they have an image to maintain.

"Inside the box"?

*Guess who isn't familiar with that particular turn of phrase?*

Yes!

[Jack starts flailing about, gesticulating.]

They're all about rules and deals and laws! They never see the loopholes because they're not smart enough to think about them, so you can always be sure that anything an angel tells you as a certainty is probably almost always mostly generally wrong somehow.

*Enoch listens for a moment in silence. And then he chuckles.*

Quick tongue. For a moment, I thought you had dealt with them before. Angels are often right about the fact of things. The...more human elements, however, the feeling and intuition...that is where they begin to overlook things.

Mate, in this world, the fact of things is worth just a little less than fool's gold.

I disagree - there are many things that are universal. Otherwise your wit wouldn't work at all on anyone. But, of course that wasn't even the point of what I said.

[A squint.]

Are you arguing semantics with me?

No. But clearly you are.

That is outright fabrication.

You can choose to believe that.

*Yeah. Minimal engagement at this point. Sorry, Jack.*

Matter of fact, yes. Yes, I can choose to believe that. And you know what? That's the beauty of it. I can believe this or that and so do you, because at the end of the day truth matters for bloody damn nothing, compared to what people believe in.

[He snorts.]

Would be dead twice over, otherwise.

Truth matters when it is relevant. I won't pretend to not know the usefulness of deceit, though. But watch the truth, and ensure it does not destroy whatever lies keep you alive. Because it, unlike your story, cannot be changed.

Very good and well, that, except truth's worth the skin of one's nose, on its own. It's what men choose to do with it that matters, really.

Finally you say something of worth.

*A sigh. This was no sinner, just someone very obnoxious.*

(no subject)

andajarofdirt - 2013-01-13 21:22 (UTC) - Expand