[sermon ?] —if you wanna cry, use my heart

[asipofbride]

WHO: Nicholas D. Wolfwood and you.
WHERE: the Metaverse - Noman's Land
WHEN: the month of May
WHAT: sọ̸͒m̷̥̽ĕ̷̛̜̺t̶̐̃ͅ𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰

the Eye of Michael and Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Pastor of the St. Michael's Church, do hereby enter into the following contract with respect to their work. the Pastor agrees to faithfully perform all duties as commanded in the Eye of Michael, effective ████ ███, █.█. ███, and to abide by all rules and regulations swearing in the name of the two Angels sent by God.

the Pastor agrees to receive immortal glory from the Priest ███████ through the Suffering of the Holy Angels.

in the event of abandonment of his duties, or in the event that the Executive Board determines that there is sufficient cause, the Pastor shall be permanently expelled from the Eye of Michael and St. Michael's Church, and the family members of the Pastor shall be Subject to the same punishment.

WARNINGS: medical experimentation, insects, body horror, needles, religious trauma, gore, death.

??? — NOMAN'S LAND — summaries and links

♫ HUNGRY!

Are you ever going to be fast enough to outrun everything, Judas?

ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOPELAND;

The Dormitories and the Laboratories

Hopeland Orphanage, in its good and not so good days. Shadow Wolfwood will tell you to go the Laboratories; the Eye of Michael's enforcers wait to inject you with the drugs in Wolfwood's vials and make you better. Livio wants you to find the other children and bring them back to safey, but will eventually leave to find Wolfwood himself no matter how fast you go. Fight your way through the lab or save the children; both choices deliver you to the belly of the Eye.

CHILD OF BLESSING;

The Eye of Michael HQ

The Eye of Michael's training facilities and Plant storage. Once you're far enough in, you'll meet another Wolfwood who wants nothing more than to shoot you dead; you can either confront him or go around him. Going around him leads to a repeating looping of classrooms and expendable young Eye of Michael goons; going through him will be a battle to not get shot by a skittish, defensive little gunman who's very good at what he does. Both paths will lead to Legato Bluesummers and an older, enhanced Livio. Disabling or killing Legato and Livio will let you out into Julai in the middle of its last hour.

HIGH NOON AT JULY;

Julai

The city of Julai in its final day. You're emerging from ground zero of the Eye of Michael's weird cult tower and the city is being overrun by a giant plant organism that looks like Vash's mother. The military think you're part of it and will try and stop you, and the people of Julai are being menaced and mulched by the plants. Help them, or run. If you linger for too long, Millions Knives will find you and attempt to reduce you to fertilizer despite the best efforts of the Humanoid Typhoon that Wolfwood remembers. Eventually, the twins will go up--and everything will go white when they come back down.

HUMANITY;

In Kaisou

Trying to enter the Metaverse immediately after the July Incident is an exercise in futility. Wolfwood's space is just white static and the phantom feeling of coarse sand and unrelenting heat on your skin. You have been returned to Cathedral Hill for at least a night.

THE RUNNJING MAN;

THE the Outskirts of Julai;

Julai City is a hole that seems to span forever and all that's left are clouds of glimmering Worms and a rusted metallic scrapyard. In the center of the scrapyard, you'll find Nicholas D. Wolfwood at odds with Nicholas the Punisher. They're bound to the duty that they can't put down, the Cross Punisher standing like a tombstone in the middle of a sandy arena. The bigger, hungrier Worms will try their luck with bringing down all of you fresh hunks of meat. Save Wolfwood. End this.

Comments

cw: this is the body horror section, marked by **

[asipofbride]

[ it's funny
if Wolfwood, in his right mind and not a fragment of an angry, scared child had been here to see this, he would've been able to tell them that they're acting just like he did at various stages of his treatment
like a terrible Pokemon evolution that ends in a deeply angry assassin instead of a cute little apple pie dragon

Edward fights and struggles and thinks there's something to be done here--that if he tries hard enough, he can win, that others will fight back too and that there' a chance to end up anywhere but the inevitable. the IV coils around him as if it's alive and digs deep into his ankle to give him the first part of his dosage, and if the Eye of Michael's soldiers continue to hit Edward a little (a lot) it's because they know that the serum will heal him in the throes of what comes next

Dante's come to understand consequences, but there's still enough pride and vinegar in him that he has to try a little to cling onto what he was. the faceless can't do much to him other than a few petulant knocks here and there as they strap the metal around his limbs and work the helmet over his head, but it vents their frustration with his stubbornness as his clothes are rolled up to better find his veins.

and Jun? Jun's a good boy. Jun's seen what happens to the ones who fight--maybe he even had his own moment where the doctors showed him the children that were next up on the block because he was too defiant, too stubborn to give them good results--but whatever the process, he's behaving now and that's what matters as the chaos in the lab fades to a shrill whine that's broken up by people calling his name in joy, calling his name in fear, muddled colors and familiar shapes reaching out to him, beckoning and begging in equal measure.

and hey, Dante and Edward will also find themselves in a horrific kaleidoscope of sensation, fire in their nerves as their heads pulse like they're about to explode

** the serum heals completely and also encourages rapid, painful growth--bones splinter and heal and splinter again and muscles and sinew tear as they try to accommodate a new, rapidly growing frame, skin roiling to try and contain what's made too big for itself. when they said remade, they meant remade. maybe Wolfwood's jokes about losing years off his life make a little more sense in the middle of the agony.

(even if they're the lucky ones--since this is only a memory, only a dream; when the effects wear off they'll be physically unchanged, for all the good that mentally does.

sorry Jun. you still have to get taller the normal way.) ]

tw hallucinations, past character death, gore

[jackdawvision]

[There's nothing that must be done about this, get up, man! is what Edward would've yelled at Shroud. He'd have yelled it through the beatings and the pain, because he's gotten beaten up more than once to have a fairly good pain tolerance, but even hardened skin can't stop the needle from slipping into his veins.

Any thought of dignity or pride slips away from him as the sheer agony hits. He screams, a purely animalistic shriek of sheer pain and terror, this is so much fucking worse than any pain he's ever felt. Any words he might've had for anyone melt away in the face of this torment, worse than a gibbet in the hot sun or a broken nose or a broken bone, and his vision blurs—everyone around him in blood-red, with two streaks of blue in this sea of crimson that blurs and drowns him and—

If he turns his head he sees Caroline, her eyes bright, calling his name and reaching for him. When he tries to reach for her despite the restraints, she flinches away and weeps, weeps, weeps: you promised me, Edward, no more than two years, you promised, why are you leaving me what keeps you wandering don't I make you happy weren't we happy why didn't you come back for me—

He blinks, and Mary's there—Kidd—Mary, her form shifts in front of his eyes. Is her hair down, are her lips red, are her eyes bright and her mouth turned up in a grin or have they dulled in death? But they're fixed on him as she smiles at him and calls his name, calls him friend, says, I'll be with you—

(her corpse had been so cold)

—her head lolls and he's never seen her cry before, never heard her say, you spiteful lout, there's no one left in your life to care a whit for what you call courage—Adéwalé holding out his hand to lift him up only to let him go, only to let him fall, only to say, you run your schemes and your plans alone and lose the faith of your crew, your friends, those people you're holding on so tightly to, so how long will it take you to break their trust—Thatch, grinning at him through that long black beard of his, clapping him on the back, in this world or the one below—

(the sword had torn a gash right through Thatch's throat and it bled bled bled and he was dead before he hit the ground and had he been looking at Edward, the whole time, asking him save me)

—red blood on the Jackdaw's deck, red blood slicking his hands as he tried to stem the blood from Zulius's neck, Diarmuid calling for him to go and take Ritsuka with him, a glint of steel in the darkness, blue and red and gold blurring together, the crystal skull shining in Roberts' hand as he reaches for it before its teeth clamp down on him and send shockwaves of fiery agony through his entire being—

How can anyone survive this? How could Wolfwood survive this? You should've run, Dante had said, but Edward couldn't run—why? Because of his pride? Because of his own spiteful stubbornness? Because he was too damn curious for his own good? (Because he wanted to be good, and protect someone he cared about for once in his goddamned life?)

He thinks—

He thinks he sees Wolfwood.]

[advivo]

[ it should be agony, it should be burning him from the inside out but after twenty years of fighting─ of being stabbed, ripped, skewered, shot, torn apart ─dante feels nothing. the serum pulse through his veins, breaking and healing and encouraging growth, and dante bears it all silently. edward's screams filling his ears as his vision blurs and the ceiling melts away─

─then it isn't edward's screams echoing in his ears. he can hear his mother crying out as the demons descend, as flames lick at the closet she left him in. she sobs vergil's name begging him to come out of hiding. reds and oranges and yellows fill his vision as eva reaches out to him. be strong now, be a good boy, start again with a new name, a new life, help me, help your brother, if only you hadn't fought i would have lived i would have─ dante inhales sharply, eva's voice like knives in his ears. it isn't real, he tells himself, none of this is real. the dull burning in his limbs, his mother's voice in his ears. the visions of her and vergil laughing and waving and reaching out begging for him to save them.

grin and bear it, grin and bear it, it'll be over soon.

yet it feels like it goes on for hours, for days. the figures of his mother and vergil shift and melt and then it is the girls standing there, smiling. he can't hear them, not with his pulse thundering in his ears, but he is sure they call out to him. he left them behind after all, wrote a will and everything. trish smiles the same way his mother once did and lady waves. dante laughs a breathy and broken sound, fingers twitching and their smiles melt away─ they're fine, they're fine, don't let it overwhelm, it'll be over soon.

dante grits his teeth and clenches his fists, even as the girls shift and merge into an image of wolfwood. even as the grin on his face melts into pain, as the screams in his ears become cries for help, even as wolfwood begs and pleads and crumbles before his eyes. dante grins and bears it.

it is all he can do. ]

[whiteshroud]

[Jun can hear the screams of his loved ones. August fussing over him, Abel calling out to him, Ryouta yelling his name. But each time, Jun refuses to look. He'll force his eyes to open, but chooses to focus on a single light on the ceiling. Even as the hallucinations try to move in front of his vision, he stares right past them and at that light.

There were Greed in the Eclipse that'd lure humans in with the voices and appearances of people they cared about. Again and again, the Orden had drilled in this lesson. This was no different.

Pay them no mind, pay them no mind.

The pain was growing in intensity. It was like his regeneration ability when he forced it, but on overdrive. It both felt like an eternity and far too fast. Human bodies weren't meant to grow and heal this quickly. If he had more presence of mind, he'd think about what it means for Wolfwood. But right now? He's too much in survival mode to tap into empathy.

Just get through this, get through it. It'll be over soon. God, let it be over soon.]

[asipofbride]

[ it easy to see how they steal days, months, years away from you like this, isn't it?

it goes on forever and then some, infinite and agonizing as it burns through your veins and remakes them anew--you were supposed to be a better breed of human, made into something closer to a holy Plant so that you would stop devouring, stop taking, so you could finally give and live in the hot, empty world that the Angels and God had cast you all down on

and then the dose comes to an end, and with it, comes the quick bolt of sobriety

and Wolfwood smiles at Edward with all three-four-five-six of his mouths as he splits into fractals and reforms into one, raising half a dozen hands that are his and Mary's and Thatch's and Caroline's and Kidd's that collapse back down into just the Punisher's one as levels the pistol and fires--

and Wolfwood crawls to Dante, desperation and desire spinning cycles in his eyes as they bleed out of his head and as he smears between whole and hale and a burnt, ashen corpse, skeletal arm wrapping around Dante's neck as he draws him in close and nestles the gun under his chin, lips on his as he pulls the trigger--

and Wolfwood looks down at Jun, solemn and stoic as the knight refuses to meet his eyes, studying him with something like pity, like empathy, like understanding, like anger as he gives him an affectionate little pat on the top of his head to steady him, hand coming to rest over his eyes and render everything blissfully dark as the muzzle of the gun kisses his temple--

and all at once it ends.

the doctors in their darkened glass rooms go through the motions of people taking notes and numbers and filling out databases as most of the Eye of Michael's personnel stand along the walls in solemn, stoic rows. the restraints pop open, neat as you please. a few of the Eye's men stand closer with their cattle prods, in case the experiments need help moving along--but the far door will whoosh open with a pleasant pneumatic sound and await them, patiently.

the internal pain is receding, but not gone--never really gone, always aching at the back of your teeth and in the twist of your spine. there's no sign Dante or Edward were ever struck with clubs and prods to get them complacent, their external injuries returned to pristine skin. the Eye of Michael won't move towards the three unless they try to head back to the Orphanage.

time for the next phase of your education, little ones. ]

[jackdawvision]

[Bang.

Edward comes back to himself with a hoarse gasp, eyes wild, nightmares receding into the back of his head. He's shaky on his feet when he gets up, which is odd coming from someone who's usually so fast and agile. He doesn't look at anyone, which is even odder coming from someone so stubborn and loud. He looks shaken, down to his core, like he'd really not expected to walk right into this and then to walk out of it alive again.

When he makes it out, bile rises in his throat as something tightens painfully around his chest, roils in his stomach. When the other two come out he's slumped against the wall, hand over his mouth, having what he thinks is a breakdown and what someone else might realize is a panic attack, and it takes him a moment longer than usual to shake his head and even register that anyone else is outside. He staggers to his feet, swallows the bile back.]

Where next?

[It's hoarse, but it's there, in his voice: a refusal to back down. He's thrown his lot in with these two and he'll keep going.

Just. Give him a second to recover. It's fine, he's fine, it's all just fine. Everything is fine.]

[advivo]

[ the gun nestles so comfortably under his chin, the metal cool against his burning skin. even the wolfwood's lips feel cool against him and he wishes hopes years for them to be real, for this nightmare to just be over─

bang.

dante comes back to himself with hardly any noise, the restrains open with a pop almost too sharp against his ears and dante sits up slowly. there is a sharp pain behind his teeth that fades quickly into an unpleasant pressure, but he ignores it. unlike edward, dante is steady on his feet, getting up and walking out as though he hadn't just gone through any of that at all. he doesn't even look at edward when he exits the room, his gaze focused straight ahead as he listens for shroud to join them. ]

Forward, the only way we can go.

[whiteshroud]

[Out of the corner of his eye he sees Wolfwood looking down at him. He resists the urge to look at him, instead continuing to focus on that light. He only winces when that headpat happens, that gesture of affection feeling so wrong amidst the torture. It reminded him of some of the Krusnik agents, who would try to act sweet to hide their monstrous natures.

Feeling a gun against his head is a more welcomed experience. Just do it, he finds himself thinking.

Bang.

All at once, it's over. Jun jolts back to reality. Whatever twisted experiment these echoes wanted to put him through was now over. Part of him felt relieved, but the other part of him...

He's slow at getting out of restraints. He's smaller than the other two, so maybe the researchers reason he's struggling more with the after effects. They don't notice his eyes following the other two, making sure Edward and Dante are safely out of the room.

They are also too late to notice the holy blade manifest in Jun's hands.

As soon as Edward and Dante are clear of the door, there is massive explosion of light energy in the medical lab they just left. It nearly causes the door itself to get blasted off its hinges and whatever's in the room that doesn't get immediately incinerated gets thrown around with loud crashes.

Shroud comes out a moment later, his holy sword once again put away. He is steady on his feet, and he is not going to address what the fuck happened back there.]

Take slow, deep breaths, Edward. It'll help.

[asipofbride]

[ when they come to navigate their way through Wolfwood's dungeon in the coming days, they'll find that the path through the laboratories is completely gone. there's sound, and there's light, and then there's nothing--the Shadows gone as quickly as they were crafted. the doors are broken on either side, lit up red for distress and unable to budge--as if whatever's creating this place doesn't have the power to undo what's been done since it was all built under duress anyway.

the doors that would've led into the researchers on either side of this hallway are likewise blocked, fully caught in the explosion, and Nicholas D. Wolfwood--the young one, the one who'd also come this way--looks up at the three men his head canted slightly to the side, looking perplexed in the wake of such a show of force. there's a set of elevators in the room connecting to the hallway behind him, all steampunk tubes to who the hell knows where. ]

... it doesn't change anything, you know? They'll always rebuild their workplaces. They'll keep taking others to try and make a better monster. What did that accomplish? You only broke off one little piece--and eventually the rest of the body will come to collect.

[ because Wolfwood had come to accept his shackles, over time--Edward's bravado given way to Dante's numb anger and Jun's apparent acceptance, but this last show of rebellion was... new. not something Wolfwood had really worked out for himself, yet. ]