#plot post;

Jake felt hot, more than hot, he felt like he was on fire. Sweat seemed to turn to steam and his breathing turned into quick panting. He tried to pull at his clothing but nothing was helping. The concerned voices of his friends were being drowned out by the sounds of a mix of hope and hopelessness. Light snaked around his body like a too tight hug. His screaming ripped through his throat making it raw and sore, which didn’t help with the heat. When did he started screaming? He didn’t remember. The light got tighter and tighter around his overstimulated body. His skin burned and seared making the world smell like burning flesh. He tried to grip his hair but nothing happened. The lights kept his arms chained to his sides. Tighter. Tighter. His eyes started to bulge a bit. Tighter and hotter. Hotter and tighter. Too much. Blood started to escape his eyes, nose, ears and mouth just because there was nowhere else to go. The golden lights that tightened around Jake seemed to awaken. Eyes of different colors and shapes started to open just as they got too tight. Jake exploded from the pressure. Blood, guts, and other body parts seem to fly in every direction. Rox was hit with an arm and painted with blood. Cro now had entrails in his hair and blood splattering his clothing. In his screaming Rox ended up with a chunk of Jake in his mouth causing the screaming and gagging to worsen.

In the midst of the chaos, wings of a seraphim blossomed.

==> Jake; Ascend

Hours later, what seemed to be a falling star landed down on an island seemingly in the middle of nowhere. This island had horses roaming, and the wreckage of a building that had been seemingly disintegrated. The blinding light didn’t crash land, as it got close to the ground below it slowed, catching the attention of the animals in the area. As the light faded some of the horses would slowly approach, they half recognized the man left kneeling there, in an all too familiar yellow.

“...in a surprise turn of events, rebellion leader Kankri Vantas has been captured and taken into custody. After perigrees of terrorizing the public, Kankri Vantas has been taken into custody after being recognized in the street by a good samaritan who reported him to the proper authorities. A collection of other rebels have also been captured with him and are awaiting their executions with him, however their executions will not be broadcasted due to the lack of space to air. The empress en route with Alternia to personally take part in his public execution on Live Television to provide a message to any remaining rebellion members..”

You had been walking down the street to rendezvous with a Mr. Cronus Ampora to discuss.. to discuss.. You can’t even remember. Everything on that Day was a blur to you now, everything else however- was not. One minute you are darting down alleys and weaving through streets and the next minute your mouth is covered and you’re being electrocuted in your side. You felt all of your hair stand on end the second between the tazer meeting your side and the second following where you fell unconscious. When you awoke you were cuffed and bound in a prison cell far too small for your comfort. Across the way you recognized a familiar face, one of your peers unconscious on the floor. You tried to call out but you came to the realization that you were gagged as well. Your outcry was muffled and spittle dripped down your chin as you squirmed and got yourself upright. You growl and hiss at any sound that echos in halls.

Three Days Seven Hours and Fifty Two Minutes, you counted every minute that you were trapped in that cell. You counted every time you screamed to the best of your ability, cried, clawed at your own skin, bled, wanted to throw up, and cursed everyone and everything around you. You’ll tally them down:

You screamed 192 times.

You cried 1 time.

You clawed at your palms endlessly.

You bled from those scratches for 1 hour in a whole.

You wanted to throw up 7 times.

You were still cursing everyone around you.

You slept 0 hours.

Your vision snapped to the sound of a bang distantly, you wearily creak your head towards the direction of the sound that you just heard, leaning your head against the wall behind you and staring at the corner where the door and the wall met. You heard another bang and some popping following, then everything felt hot for just a moment and you were out again. When you awoke again you were covered in dust, but a troll wearing a gasmask was dumping water onto your face. You were surrounded by trolls carrying weaponry and adorning masks and hoods, makeshift body armor hanging on their frames. They stared down at you like you were the sun incarnate, holy and decadent. Their eyes were wide as you tested your jaw. You were rattled suddenly by the blinding flash of an explosion nearby. You jolt upright with a sudden burst of energy and look around you, two young trolls help you to your feet and you look around you. In the time that you were out, the buildings around where you were being housed were in ruin and burning. Sirens blared in the distance and smoke danced up into the air. The moons hung overhead and made the haze dance with purple and green. You opened your mouth to say something but were met with the incessant whirring of drones overhead. You and the crowd of trolls immediately scatter, two other trolls helping you walk and keeping you sturdy. You watched in raw astonishment at the sight of a drone wailing down and crashing into buildings after suddenly being burst into flames. You continue to run, it looked like the sight of that old movie, Latula- Telula had shown you it when you were younger. Independence Day it was called, if you remember correctly. Everything was burning around you and descending into chaos.

That had been perigrees ago.

Currently, you had been Kakrir Vattos, a burgundy blood troll who worked in a factory who played with electronics on the side. You had to step up again though, and you had shed that name and disguise, your skin burnt hot with the red of iron, you were angry. You wanted to put this capitalistic society into the grave as you had already struck it in the knee for the rest of the world to see. Shocking, is what it was, really.

You open a palmhusk for the first time in what felt like sweeps, you hadn’t told anyone that you had survived. 

“The captured Rebel Terrorist Kankri Vantas has presumably escaped, please keep yourself and your close ones safe and stay inside as much as possible to avoid danger if you are in the effected areas.”

“The Rebel Kankri Vantas has been reported alive based upon activity in online circles, all websites reporting news based on this story that are not government certified and official will be taken down and prosecuted for affiliation with Rebels..”

“The Terrorist Kankri Vantas-”

“...Rebel Terror Kankri Vantas-”

“..Kankri Vantas..”

“KANKRI VANTAS”

This particular street, however, generally had him on guard. It was here that, almost two years ago now, he’d been accosted by a few of the more… emphatic church-goers - the kind that touted signs about one thing or another, relating to homosexuality as a sin or casting demons from their wake. The pair had thrown holy water at him, giving him a few days of down time: as one might expect, it was quite comparable to poison for the fallen angel, and he’d taken ill. It was also the reason why he was completely blind in his right eye, which was, understandably, a sore spot. While there were no bodies outside on this particular evening, he wasn’t able to shake the dread that had snuck up on him, gripping his shoulders and hastening his steps.

Pace quickened. It was a few blocks later that he made it to the store in question, and he had to marvel at all the exotic foliage they had on display - as well as the astounding array of foods and planters available. He needed to stop himself before he bought one of everything, electing to enlist his self control and instead only purchase a bag of expensive plant food. Which he then lugged five whole blocks back to the townhouse, texting Jingle along the way.

No response. Typical. He sighed and shoved his phone back into his pocket, deciding on the way that the best course of action would be to break in through the bathroom window the plant was in. Mainly because the front door tended to stick, and he didn’t want to wake him up if he indeed was sleeping.

It took some creative finagling, hoisting the bag up through the window before himself to plop onto the floor after jimmying open the lock, but he made it into the room with minimal problems after that.

He slipped into his old room after putting down the bag, removing his ring, collar, and necklace. He figured while he was here he could re-enchant them with the magical goodies he kept here just in case, and he really didn’t want to lose his ring in the dirt of the pot if he ended up having to loosen the soil up for any reason. But he wouldn’t let himself get distracted - plant first, enchantments later. The accoutrements were left on his old dresser, and he headed back into the defunct bathroom quietly.

Plant was sung to, trimmed, and generally pampered. Cath apologized for neglecting it for so long, explaining all the things that had happened since the last time they’d seen each other. It seemed to be appeased, even moreso when he watered it with the expensive food mixture, and the angel was pleased.

Mid-way during a one-sided conversation with the plant, he thought to check the time. Oh, shit. It’d been a few hours. He really needed to be heading home. He fired off a quick text to Kay, telling him he’d be along and home soon so they could play something or chill or whatever they decided to do that afternoon.

Instinctively he reached for his wallet, aiming to leave one of the cards he kept with him that said ‘hey king nice cock’ somewhere Jingle could see it the next time he used the bathroom.

When he couldn’t find it in his back pocket, he groaned loudly.

He searched everywhere in the bathroom. Under the sink, in the bathtub, even in the dirt of the plant. He knew it wouldn’t be there, but stranger things had happened, and his wallet seemed to have a tendency to wander. When ten minutes of searching turned up nothing, he realized he probably had left it at the plant store.

Well. Son of a bitch.

Climbing back out the bathroom window, he set the music on his phone again, trying to make his way quickly back to the plant store. It wouldn’t be so bad, actually. He’d offered to get some exotic plant food for a friend of his, and he hadn’t even looked when he was there the first time. He hadn’t found out what types of plants Scar had, but maybe a general type of food like he’d gotten would be fine.

Walking past that damned church again did not serve to make him feel any better about the situation, and his stomach flipped uneasily. He figured a quicker-paced song might make him walk faster, so he pulled his phone out of his pocket to change the music.

It was difficult for him to divide his attention sometimes, and over the music being louder with his phone being closer to his face he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching in the grass. Before he had any idea what was happening there were multiple pairs of hands grabbing him, phone tumbling into the dewy grass as the angel was hauled away.

He fought. He kicked and he yelled. But there were too many hands - pulling him, shoving him, covering his face and mouth. Alongside his heart hammering in his ears he could hear some kind of weird chanting. It sounded like prayer, but the voices saying these things and doing these things seemed anything but holy. Good people didn’t do things like this. Even in the face of the unknown. This was fear, raw and frightening. Though if they’d taken thirty seconds of their time to have a conversation with him, they might actually realize he wasn’t anything to fear. 

Pulled into the church, he was dragged down a set of stairs into the lower basement, struggling and shouting the whole way down.

And so he sat, by himself. He’d been dumped in one of his hiding spots, a niche he’d carved out when he spent far more time here between summonings. He wasn’t entirely aware of his actual location in the Nevernever, because it was almost always impossible to tell - he hadn’t been here in so long. Getting his bearings would take a while, and some traveling he just wasn’t up to doing yet.

He mostly just wanted to sit and feel sorry for himself.

Who even remembers death? There was no telling if the life he’d left behind had simply vanished as he did. He never had the opportunity to speak with those he influenced when he was summoned, and seeing as his presence was largely dependent on them dying, he didn’t speak with them afterwards, either. Once he left, was he forgotten? Was Kay suddenly living in a house by himself and their little zoo, unknowing what had happened the past two years of their lives? Was Jingle simply a lucky heir to a subpar building and mystery plants? Those he’d known less, but still admired... would his just be another blog, another presence, fading into nothingness?

Standing, he kicked over a nearby stack of books in a violent outburst of frustration. He should have known better. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away. Comfort was one thing, but domesticity was another - things never should have gone as far as they did, no matter how much he’d enjoyed them.

It may have been foolish. It may have been ill advised. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t mourn the life he’d made for himself, and the niche he’d instead carved into reality with the people he loved more than anything he ever had before. People that took Death and taught him how to live.