Lightning Blade

So, two years ago, my mental health was in the grounds, in truth, it still is, it certainly is, but I'm not nearly in the same risk as I once was.

I was paying "rent" at my mother's place through my mental health, work was fine, I'm always glad to have a job, but it unfortunately resulted in me taking public transportation which... Is a problem, I'll come back to this.

I had a good amount of friends, and I do not know to this day if this is just the perception I had, or if it truly was this way, but I felt pushed aside, a lot of people jump from topic to topic on things they like and obsess over, and I am unable to do that too well, thus it ends up in me being placed aside and forgotten by others, this has happened countless of times and of course, it happening again did not help at all, much less when I did try to connect and my messages would be unseen for weeks (ended up deleting one that was me just sharing a song because it just felt bad), all in all, the people I thought close to me really weren't, and I believe the previous, or a year before that, I had also cut off another close friendship, so I really felt alone.

One of my dogs at the time died too as well which was a massive gutpunch, I was unable to shed a single tear until way, way after, I'm so emotionally constipated lol

Dialing back to public transportation, I've always been very, very open about my intrusive thoughts, it is a constant that never goes away even in this very moment, I just never act on them of course, but two years ago I felt the closest to acting upon them I ever had, either tossing myself into train tracks, or someone else, It doesn't help that there's news about stuff like that constantly in my city.

At the time I was looking for an apartment to move out, because really, living with my mother was not healthy, I was in a massive manic state and then I crashed down into full on depression, and I just wanted to die, I was making plans on how to take my life and I was going to just toss myself into train tracks as I had been thinking about for years now.

I deleted so much, removed almost all of my friends from discord, deleted my main socials (mainly twitter), and distanced myself so people just wouldn't know I'm dead, and I was just gone, I talked to one of my irl friends, it was a long long talk, I was able to push through renting with another friend, and slowly but surely started building myself back up, not having to see the train certainly helped A LOT, and while it has been tough (rn I have a dollar in my bank and we're 5 days away from payday so you can imagine lmao) , and I'm still not doing well, I'm doing better, and I am not plotting on ending my life, even while not having a meaning to live.

At that time, nobody had really reached out to me, even people that saw that I posted "I am considering killing myself" and liked it, yeah, it was a cry for attention, a cry for help, so returning to this account a year ago was also tough, only one person has properly reached out these years and we've kept in touch (shoutout jujuba), but everyone else that I know saw stuff, that know how to find me, where to contact me, etc, it was just sad and a confirmation that I do not matter to others.

And thus, in present day, I want to return to RP, and I will try, but I can't guarantee anything, I will remove canon muses, and I will redue the muses i have for my OC list. If anything I'll use this blog to do musings or drabbles, worst case scenario

The sun of the overworld, while new, held a pleasant warmth, the air was much colder than the Underworld's, but it had a pleasant smell to it, this overworld was so beautiful, so colorful and full of surprises, unlike the tortures Infernum held, this world was beautiful and quiet.

He hated it, he hated their privilege, the beauty they did not appreciate, he felt bitter, and he wanted to burn the whole world down.

He noticed that humans that would see him would look at him in fear, they'd keep their distance, perhaps for the best, he dared not just yet attack, he felt sluggish, clumsy in this new world, the way out from hell was an exhausting one after all.

It all started with livestock, one of the resources the overworld took for granted, it stood no chance, and it worked as a good warm up for what was to come, the smell of burning fur was the first to taint the air's purity. The cattle would not defend itself, at least not fast enough, and even if it tried, no cow, no pig, no animal stood a chance.

It wasn't until the owners of said cattle got in the way that he aimed his weapon at them, they pleaded, and while he had no knowledge of the common language of humans, the context, their faces, their pleading was all too familiar to what he'd seen in hell, they were asking for mercy, and in return, his low, gravely voice in a gutural tone exhaled:

"NO. MERCY."

He swung, rage coating his greatsword in flames that seared through the farmers, who stood no chance against the demon.

Blue eyes locked onto the nearby town, the bloodrush he felt from this murder driving him to walk towards it.

Flames spewed from his mouth, from his hands, from his weapon, a blaze that quickly set the place on fire, and those that tried to escape? No chance, they'd be killed on the spot, humble little homes reduced to ashes in a matter of minutes.

It was exhilarating! How they would not get to enjoy more of their beautiful skies and clean air, how he could show them the pain that was so familiar, and almost comforting, for his people, give them a taste of hell, send them to eternal torture.

Once the town was reduced to nothing, his wake of destruction continued, the nearby forests, the pathways, all set ablaze by his mere step, a stride of destruction that was quickly noticed by the major kingdoms, who sent out those best suited to deal with a demon of Jor'il's power.

He had experience in combat, yes, but there were many things he'd still yet to meet, many things that the hell he was so familiar with did not have.

In no time, four dark mages appeared before him, magic-- That was something he'd not had to deal with, people like them were not really present in Infernum, after all. Despite this, he was still fierce, a great obstacle, fangs bared and hateful eyes, in the struggle and battle, he'd managed to take down one of the mages, but the other three got him in the end.

He was badly hurt and captured, tight shackles were placed around his wrists, preventing him from unleashing flames through his limbs, and then, a seal was placed on his stomach, locking him out of his powers completely, it almost felt like it drained his strength, and he was unable to move.

Jor'il was tossed into a small, dark and cold cell with no contact, for killing him would've just sent him back to the Underworld, craving vengeance. Every day, they'd bring him stale bread, which was passed through a small hole, then every week, every month, and then, it ceased completely. The chatter he could hear in the far distance, that too, had ceased. And he remained there, in silence, in darkness, in cold, unable to leave, his strength was gone and he couldn't even break through.

Days passed, weeks, months, years, he eventually lost track, the weakness he felt was overwhelming. As time passed, he could move less and less, all he could do was think, hate, regret and ponder, eventually, he'd have wishful thoughts of freedom, of taking his time to understand these beautiful blue skies, of enjoying the greenery, the birdsong. He had time to reflect, to understand that those from the overworld has not chosen to live there, their luck, while infuriating, was not really their fault now, was it?

If he escaped… He'd change his ways, he craved freedom, he craved warmth, he felt so, so cold. He didn't know if he'd slept, he didn't know when he was awake. With his powers suppressed, he couldn't see at all, he was aware one of his eyes was no longer working, and his body had struggled to heal his battle wounds after the seal placed on him.

...

...?

Warmth, he felt warmth on his skin, was he delirious now? Was it time for him to return to Infernum? He waited patiently, seconds that lasted an eternity, he heard noise, the wall was being broken, and there was, after so long, sunshine on his skin. He opened his eyes, having trouble adjusting to the brightness.

A small man approached him and started checking on his now scarred wounds, small hands analyzing the shackles that held him in place.

Meanwhile, a taller man jumped through the wall's hole and looked at him, his smile so wide, Jor'il didn't know if he was being mocked or not, or if this was just a bizarre dream while he was slowly dying, whatever it was, he just wanted it over.

The clown spoke.

"I know of your sins, demon, and I have forgiven them."

Strange… This man spoke infernal to him, how long had it been since he heard it be spoken? He only did not forget how it sounds due to his own, internal monologue, which was starting to become more incoherent as the days passed.

The smaller clown spoke now, but he couldn't understand a word.

"Sheesh, they did a number on him, huh, and there's a seal on him, too." The small clown looked at his friend. "You better warn him that this will hurt."

The tall man nods. "Clench your cheeks, demon." He said, an odd thing to tell to a stranger.

And before Jor'il could react, the shackles were broken and peeled off his skin, now stained with a thick, dark purple blood, he growled loudly, his eyes locking with rage onto the small man.

"You're fine, we're getting you out of here, but in the condition you're at it's gonna hurt one way or another." The tall clown says with a shrug while the smaller one heals some of the damage, at least to soothe it. "The only thing we can't take from you just yet is that doodle on your stomach." He adds, pointing at Jor'il's abdomen, the seal on it. "We have to settle some things first, okay?" With a loud laugh, the clown smiles. "Now, your options are, you stay here and try your darndest to leave, or you trust us and let us take you to my little town, all expenses paid."

Once the small man gave the taller one a thumbs up, he spoke once again.

"I want to give you a new chance at life, will you take it, demon?"

Jor'il paused for a moment, taking everything in, he slowly moved his arms and looked at them, then he spoke to the clowns.