I AM THE GOD OF HELL FIRE....

[npc_mod]

Characters: OPEN TO ALL - PLEASE TAG IN WHEN YOU POST BY USING THE "EDIT TAGS" OPTION
Date/Time: 1:07PM to approximately 3:07pm October 24th
Location: The ENTIRE WORLD of Edensphere
Rating: Varied I expect, but let's say R to be safe.
Summary: Edensphere burns. Everyone dies. ...Well, not quite everyone. Warning for large-scale character death and

Comments

[gundrifter]

It started with the golden suit that suddenly appeared around Geranium's body, encasing him completely. It startled him to his feet in the middle of the empty house--but before he could even think about it, there was suddenly fire climbing up a wall of the house, and the ceiling burning above him. When he stumbled outside and saw the maelstrom of fire Edensphere had become, his thoughts went instantly to the people in the 'Sphere he cared for the most. Will, Koi, Chapel...what about Dani, and Lucy? Were they alive, were they okay? Could anyone survive this? He had to help them if he could.

The suit made moving cumbersome, but one thing he noticed immediately was that it made him nearly impervious to the fire. He used it to shove burning debris out of his way, even to walk straight through flame when he had to. On his way to the access point he came across bodies strewn under a wreckage of burning debris. There was no time to give into horror; he cleared away the debris as best he could, dragged the people who were still moving to the relative shelter of some housing that wasn't burning yet, and left the rest, blinking stinging eyes hard so that he might at least see where he was going. Not one of them had been wearing the protective suit he was, that he'd seen on a few others. Why hadn't it appeared on everyone? Who or what had dictated that he might be protected, while others burned and died in this horrible inferno?

It was only when he realized that the elevator shaft was completely inaccessible--it was a pillar of flame, in fact--that he stopped, staring up at it in a moment of bewilderment and terror. If he couldn't find his friends--no, he couldn't think like this. If he couldn't help them, he'd help those who needed it here. He turned away, hands clenching automatically into fists--and that was when he saw--

"Chapel!"

[sixthsinner]

This was a horror show. Every step Chapel took was one he wished he hadn't, but what else was there to do? Everything was burning, and debris was falling from the upper branches, including huge chunks of other dwellings. He was sure that at least one of the falling torches was a human being.

Damn, God, he thought to himself. I know we do a lot of terrible things, but all these people?

It seemed like everything was ablaze, no matter where he went, but all he could think of was making it to the elevator. There had to be somewhere safe, didn't there?

"Help!" A sudden shout caught his attention and he spun around. Some poor sap was completely trapped under a huge branch. "I-I can't lift it," he panted. It hurts!"

Chapel knelt down to take a closer look and grimaced at what he saw. The guy was completely crushed--his feet were twisted so far they were practically backward, and a huge pool of blood was spreading. There was no way he could lift the branch or save this guy's life.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Look over there. There's help." Obediently, the pain-crazed man did as ordered, and before he could turn back, Chapel drew his gun from his jacket holster and fired directly at the guy's temple. He jolted once, and was still.

"May you go with God, my friend," he said quietly, and moved on.

There was no time to dwell on it. Chapel continued moving toward the elevator, practically running, and only skidded to a stop when he heard his name again. It was some guy in another one of those suits, but the voice sounded familiar. "Geranium?" He squinted at the figure.

[gundrifter]

Geranium felt an immeasurable relief at seeing Chapel's familiar face--and more importantly, seeing that he was okay. But it was quickly crested by worry. Chapel didn't have one of the suits like he did; he was much more vulnerable to this horrible inferno. At all costs, Geranium had to see his friend to safety--though where safety was to be found in all this, he didn't know.

"It's me, Chapel!" Geranium waved a hand as he ran to Chapel's side. At least his friend seemed to recognize his voice. "We've got to get out of here--gotta get to safety somewhere. Maybe--" He tugged at the helmet, but it wasn't coming loose.

[sixthsinner]

So it was Spiky after all. Not so spiky now, though. "Doesn't look like there's anywhere to go," he remarked. Maddeningly, he really wanted another cigarette right now.

He grabbed Geranium's arm to stop him from messing with the helmet. "Hey, don't worry about me. At least one of us should be safe. Let's--shit!"

The branch came from nowhere. Maybe he should've kept an eye out, but it was so fast, it might not have made a difference. It was on fire, too, though that seemed like a moot point after the sharp edge of the broken bough went through his ribs.

Geranium was okay, though--he was still standing. Chapel wondered what his face looked like behind the mask. That was all he could wonder before the momentum of the branch knocked him down and away from the path they stood on, to whatever lay below.

After Geranium's gone

[grinninggrifter]

Grift ran without thinking until he arrived at the edge of the island, flames licking his back. Well, he thought morosely, that was what he got for being lost. Was it worth running anymore, really? He was trapped. Even if the fire didn't hurt him through the suit, the collapsing buildings would.

The despair and fear faded away, giving way to a deeply ingrained sense of fate. He slid to the ground and stared off the cliff. The only other option was to jump off. Maybe he ought to. It'd be a better death than being crushed slowly.

Wait, wait, wait. There was a body down there.

Chapel. There was no mistaking it. It was the first recognizable face that he'd seen so far, not twisted in unbelievable pain or charred beyond recognition. He didn't move for a moment, barely dared to breathe.

You thought of him when you ran, something inside told him, accusingly. You said that you weren't close enough to risk your neck for him.

And he wasn't, not really, but it was a shock seeing him so still.

Grift was more upset than he thought he'd be. Hell, Chapel was a good guy, when it all came down to it. He was a holy man with a sense of humour, and a love for guns, and Grift considered him to be as close a friend as he had in this place. Why Chapel? He was just a screwed up bit player in this play they were living.

He closed his eyes, but not for long, because a branch thundered its presence onto his outstretched leg.

"Aw, fuck."

Pushing the branch off, he struggled to his feet and limped back into the fire, because for all his melodrama, he didn't really want to die.

But curiously, curiously, every time he paused for breath, he recalled Chapel's face and felt a foreign aching in his chest, painful and hollow and more familiar every time it panged.

[gundrifter]

He started to reply, started to protest, maybe, while he kept trying to remove the helmet. He never knew what he had meant to say. It was gone from his mind when he saw the branch enter Chapel's ribs, saw the shock in his face, his eyes on Geranium's--on where Geranium's eyes should be, at least.

He lunged forward, a second too late. "Chapel, no! No!"

Later he would think, if he had only been an instant faster--if he had caught Chapel instead of empty air as the man was knocked backwards--if he had caught him before he fell, he could have saved him. It was stupid, he knew--the bough had gone right through him--but he thought it.

It was too late. Geranium's hand closed on nothing. He dropped to his knees, watching his friends body fall.

"No." His hand trembled, still outstretched. "No! NO!"

He was dead. He was gone, as quick as a drief leaf snatched away by the wind.