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EPILOGUE
Though it's only been three weeks, the vault has taught all of you an important lesson: War. War never changes.
Whether it is the wars you fight at home, the wars your comrades fight in their worlds, or the interpersonal wars you've experienced here... There is always strife and conflict, but you have still come out on top of it.
Once the reactor room party disperses, Ianthe keeps word (under Kanon's watchfull eye) and removes all of the souls from the mainframe, restoring them into their fixed up beautifully healthy bodies. It's really as if you'd never died at all!
There is still a little time to pack your things and say goodbye to the nuclear fallout shelter that has been home for a while, but then the plan will be put into action and the SNART is powered up.
The machine of miracles is fulfilling its true purpose for the first time.
And the group can move forward towards greener pastures, which are actually redder pastures, because it's hell, and there is fire. But Mordawwa is here to keep us all safe, one assumes.
And with the infinite flow of souls, the SNART can remain a permanent fixture of the underworld, allowing everyone to go where and when they'd like, freely, as many times as necessary. Until Erin has enough of everyone, at least.
((Welcome to your epilogue and congratulations on finding a way for everyone, really everyone, to live!! You can use this post for all your post-game interactions, whether that is a toplevel while still in the vault, interactions in the underworld, or even something far later than!))
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Alright, all of you, ground rules: don't go wandering around without supervision, don't kill or attack the lesser demons, ignore any stares or temptation given at you, and don't touch my bone throne. Property of Mordawwa.
[Welp, time to go to hell during wartime. You all are lucky Erin is a competent ruler, she should be able to keep you all safe for as long as connecting the SNART to the goddamn river of souls takes. It'll be fine, thank goodness]
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he's kind of unconsciously rubbing the back of his head and is just kind of staring at all the fire. like sure he's probably been filled in on what happened. but he's kind of. standing man emoji???
how did any of this happen, actually.]
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I wouldn’t try too hard to understand it.
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This is not making things any less strange.
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You know, I've never actually had to reattach a severed head before. It's not something that's typically done with living bodies. No real point and all that.
How'd I do? Is it at risk of falling off?
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Nothing feels truly wrong. I think it is simply all in my mind that it feels a bit… strange.
evil wizard overlord ama
Now she just stands against a wall, staring at the massive ship. If someone approaches her, she'll wordlessly raise an eyebrow and that's basically it. Don't expect an apology or anything, sorry...]
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You know, it would have been a waste if we'd had to kill you.
[ This is how affection works, right??? ]
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Well, I know that.
I'm surprised nobody even pushed for it. Like I said, when I was in your shoes, sparing that plague-ridden dusty old bitch wasn't even remotely on my mind.
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either way, it doesn’t matter to him. the important thing is that he’s alive, his magecraft is functioning again and his weapons all seem to be back where they should be. guns— check. grenades— check. mystic codes— check.
god-felling crossbow— check.
considering the situation he left at snowfield, he should be whirring to head back. and he is. hell will call for him and his soul someday, but it shouldn’t be today.
but sigma will let himself hang around in the back. maybe he’s not fully willing to leave the group behind yet, as unsocial as he is. ]
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She doesn't know where they stand. The smart thing to do is to walk away, forget him and their brief acquaintance. One post-death alliance under desperate circumstances does not a reconciliation make. ]
Hey. [ She says, softly. ] What was the name of that actor from the movie you told me about, again?
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with her here again, sigma will take it as a chance to start fresh. he doesn't see a reason to hold grudges for a person that he might not ever see again.
what a shame, he catches himself thinking, and his reaction is to adjust his military goggles over his head as he responds to her question. ]
The Great Dictator, by Charlie Chaplin.
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[ Her voice is different off the radio, fuller and more true, but the relief is the same. It's a quiet, straightforward feeling, and she hasn't had many of those lately. ]
I was thinking if that machine works like they say it does...I might go see it before I go back. Or I'll always wonder, right?
What are you going to do next?
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[ he would offer himself to help her, but there's one major thing that's holding him back from doing so. ]
I have to go back to help stop the destruction of the city. I refuse to let that happen.
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You won't let it happen.
[ Intimation: You believe it. ]
You're... [ She makes a small, contemplative sound, tapping ash off her cigarette. ] You decide something is going to happen, and you make it happen.
Can I ask you a favor, though? [ A quick, fleeting smile. ] I know I shouldn't, but can I?
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Hey. [ she says, joining him in the back. ] Sweet crossbow.
I wanted to say thanks. You were clean about her execution. I appreciate that.
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There's always a wall somewhere to lean on. She's found it, and she stays there watching everyone else attend to their goodbyes and their preparations for departure.
Sometimes, when she brings her cigarette to her lips or watches someone walk closer to her (by purpose or coincidence) there's something more than quiet observation in her gaze. A hesitance, or a desire, or something in between. It's never been easy to tell with her. ]
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[ Goro stands nearby with a hand on his hip, watching Klaasje with the vague, cautious curiosity seeing dead men and women walking brings. She'd had one of the least remarkable deaths of anyone, but... of course it's the sad woman he finds himself staring at. ]
...Has anyone ever told you you have terrible taste in men?
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It's come up once or twice.
[ She puts her thumb to one of the corners of her mouth, half-hiding its unhappy, crooked slant of a smile behind her fingers. ]
This isn't the part where you try to feel sorry for me, right? I know you're smarter than that.
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[ He hasn't been able to bother with any artifice since the other shoe dropped back in the vault. In Hell, of all places, he may as well enjoy (?) a little time not having to perform for anyone before he goes back to Shido and the media circus and all the rest. ]
—It's your choice if you want to squander your second chance, too.
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[ She did ask for it, start to finish.
And there is some relief in not having to pretend, in a way that's still leaving her half-tilted and skittish. She drops her hand and the smile with it, flicking ash off the tip of her cigarette. ]
I blew my second chance a while back. This is more like...fifth chance. Sixth, maybe.
I'll probably still fuck this one up. But it's nice of you to say that.
[ She contemplates him a while longer, this strange, clever boy. ]
Ruby told me that apologizing matters even if it doesn't change anything. I don't know if you believe that. [ She doesn't know if she believes that. ] Still. I am sorry.
I don't think I could have gone through with it. I mean, if I couldn't even let someone willing take the fall... [ A rueful twist to her mouth, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. ] I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. I don't think you should, and I don't really want you to.
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Initially, you can find her sitting up against some brimstone, scribbling away in her journal. Despite actually dying, it looks like she's doing a little better than when she was last seen in the Vault - her posture is less tense, and if you approach her, she'll actually smile. ]
Hey. Nice place, huh?
[ Later on, she'll even approach you, which is wild, offering an easy half-smile and a hand to shake. ]
I wasn't gonna take off without saying goodbye. Take care of yourself, all right? Wherever you end up.
initially
It's not so bad.
[ Comparatively. She comes closer, turns around so she can sink to a seat near Ruby, ever so slightly off of true parallel. It's a tiny shying away, but it's enough to make it easier to let her hair fall over her eyes as she wraps her arms around her knees.
She's quiet for a minute, maybe two. ]
...I was hoping that when I sat down, I'd figure out what I wanted to ask you.
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A ringing endorsement.
[ Ruby turns back to her journal. From here, Klaasje can probably see that she's writing down as much as she can remember about the SNART - how they hacked into the Vault's computers, its fuel source, that sort of thing. There's a note that says name is stupid - look for a better one?? ]
I'll give you a bit to think about it, then. I'm not going anywhere yet.
[ Ruby knows what she wants to ask Klaasje, but she'll give Klaasje a second, first. ]
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She tucks her hair back behind her ear and looks at the journal. Somewhere else, she'd have slid close and set her chin on Ruby's shoulder to read it. In another place, she would have cocked her head and smiled like she didn't understand the words, but was willing to play along. Here, she just looks, quietly attentive.
Real, not real. The wave function uncollapsed. She still doesn't know what she wants to ask, only what she's about to. ]
Where are you going, when you're ready?
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Revachol.
[ Where else? Not Martinaise, of course, but the city is huge, and there are lots of corners to get lost in. Besides, her lorry is there.
She looks back up. ]
Do you want to come with me?
[ It's not the first time Ruby has asked. But it will be the last. If she says no, then Ruby will close her journal, get up, and leave, and that will be that. But either way, Ruby will have an answer. ]
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Oubliette: You betrayed this woman unforgivably. You betrayed her in your body and your heart, in your mind and your soul, in all the worst ways a person can betray another. You set the dogs of law on her. You killed her, and you made her a desecration. You died for it, and for nothing, and too late.
Sufferance: And rolling in your graves, she denied you the catharsis of punishment. She took you, wretched, miserable traitor you are, into her arms, and it hurt you terribly, but not terribly enough. She holds a knife over your chest, but only so you can't drive it in.
Oubliette: If you say yes, the power she has over you will be cataclysmic, total. You will never get out from under it. A part of you will be irrevocably altered, and you will not understand what it is until the transformation has already occured. You know the word for what this is. You are more afraid to know it than you have ever been of loneliness or cold or pain.
Archipelago: When the ice thaws, it cracks like gunshots.
Archipelago: There's only one thing you can say. Say it. ]
Yes.
[ Her fingers reach for Ruby's. She doesn't quite interlace them, but lays them in the slots between Ruby's fingers, gears' teeth not yet engaged. But ready, when they need to be. ]
I think I'd like to go anywhere with you.
[ She's already followed Ruby to hell twice. What's Revanchol to that? What's anything? ]
cw: vague suicide reference
Besides. It's not like Ruby's hands have never held the gun, and that gun has been pointed at all kinds of stupid places. ]
You think so?
[ Ruby smiles slowly, noise through the static, a warm memory from the pale. It's almost teasing. She shouldn't, of course, given how much Klaasje is putting herself out on the line, but she does anyway. ]
That's good. Revachol's an incredible city. I think you'll like seeing it for real.
[ Ruby laces her fingers in between Klaasje's. Then she squeezes, just a little. ]
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She squeezes back, and for reasons beyond even the chorus of noise in her head, that's it. Klaasje laughs, thin and papery, and leans in to dig her head against Ruby's shoulder like seeking shelter from the heat. ]
There's more to it than housing blocks and ugly saltwater?
[ If she could hide the quaver in her meaningless question, she doesn't. She's well aware of how little she's seen, and she should be nice about it - but she's not nice, she's never been nice.
And Ruby wants to show her things anyway. ]
I want to see it. I want to see everything you love about it. I want - I want to know things about you, for real.