yet in the end, we're only human // 92nd finale
Dec 30, 2022 14:59:09 GMT -5
Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Dec 30, 2022 14:59:09 GMT -5
The last cannon sounds like a whimper.
Isabella dies, and she steals every sound in the world with her death, leaving him stranded in a deadly calm.
It is so, so terrifyingly quiet.
And in this quiet, the castle around him becomes darkened too, draped with shadows, garlanded by inky tendrils. The lake. It has come to crown its victor. It has come and brought its whole body along, swimming towards rotten stonewalls, climbing up twisted spires, and dousing everything in its wake with liquid darkness. He doesn’t move. He cannot move. He stands there watching her crumpled body, and doesn’t stop until darkness crawls up her skin and takes her too.
And still he stands. Shadows pool around him, gathering close. The silence is slowly cracked by whispers, small threads of sound at first, little remnants in the air that grows more speculative, more inquisitive, more ecstatic. You killed her, croons a woman approvingly. Redeemed, a man’s timbre says. Murderer, a child’s voice accuses. You redeemed them. You killed them. You killed them all.
You killed them all.
The darkness parts a few inches then, only to show the pack of wolves in the hall. Their animal eyes on him are reverent. He watches them muted as they stalk forth with the unerring grace of wild creatures, paws ghost-soft on wet cobblestones. One of the wolves have something in between their jaw. It bleeds. The moonlight catches the fur a second later, and it’s a wolf head, freshly torn, mouth jaw. The wolf drops it before him as a sort of offering. That is when threads of deepest black rise from the ground, that of the lake, raising the wolf head high to put it over his face.
And one by one, in almost rehearsed unison, all of the wolves lower their bodies in a bow.
He can feel the blood of the animal mingle with the blood of his wounds, become one altogether. It feels like sacrilege. It feels like divinity. It feels as though he has died and has rebirth in a new body, with a redder, hotter kind of blood.
Beyond eyeless windows, the red moon flares again, sending its devilish light across the arena to celebrate. A winner has been crowned. Under its ruddy light, a monster – a true monster – has been born.
He tilts his head back, closes his eyes, and lets his victory rip through his entire body. The sound reigns over the night. It comes from all of him. All his rage, all his pain, all his hope. The wolves bray too, polishing the sound, amplifying it to a single, eerily beautiful note. It sings of all things he has become and lost, of all things he has destroyed and survived.
It sings of a boy, a once kind-hearted boy who ultimately chose to become a monster to live.
Well, that was quite a transformative journey! I am still a little shell-shocked, but am extremely grateful for the story I have been able to tell through Andal. It’s been almost four years since my last finale, six since I joined the site, but I continue to be in awe of the prose and the poetry written by each and every one of you. I relish every line of dialogue with greed, and I pore over each biography with child-like wonder.
To win with Andal was to have created a constellation of beautiful narratives and be rewarded for it by having the chance to make more. His story is a tragedy, a tale of innocence lost, of softness tarnished, of all the magic in the world becoming curses, but writing here is the opposite of that. I’ve never had such a magical place to come every day and tell stories.
Now for the thank you’s:
Calla — I always knew I had to keep you at the top. You are my eternal supporter. You have been there since the beginning, and you’ve never left. Thank you forever for all the kindness, the memes, and the unwavering companionship.
Kari — Every message from you has me smiling ear to ear. Your enthusiasm is as boundless as your kindness, and I am so grateful to have had your sweet messages along the way through writing Andal.
Fox — God, your writing eviscerates me. Fenrir’s story was hauntingly beautiful, and Helena mourns him forever. You have also been there as a helping hand in some of my lowest moments, and I can’t thank you enough for it.
Dars — I know we used to joke about me having a district seven victor but now look at me in district ten :’) Jokes aside, I owe most of my growth there to you. All my graphics I started by shadowing yours, and you have taught me countless lessons on how to be a better writer, and always looked after me, and I have the greatest gratitude for all of that.
Tris — I remember being fifteen and mesmerized by your writing. I still am. You use words in such a way that transcends the ordinary prose. Elvena was fierce and fiery, but I know your eventual victor will shine the brightest. Thank you for your grace and patience during our fight, and thank you for always being a light on the site, too.
Kay — As I’ve previously mentioned, the consistency you deployed in writing Cantara was nothing short of a masterpiece. Your writing is like finely aged wine: it has experience and gravitas, all indicative of your own character. Thank you for always taking care of this place, queen.
Rook — What a finale, and what raw writing you produced with Isabella. Her prose felt fully fleshed out, so vivid in its brutality, but can we expect anything less from someone who wrote Patricia? You’re a masterclass in voice, dude.
Python — Not to be gay, but I am so, so glad to have grown closer to you through D&D. You’re a kindhearted, wonderful soul who also happens to be really hilarious all the time. Thank you for Bones, and for orchestrating these gothic games.
Charade — Man, I haven’t properly mourned for Katrina, but that death post may be one of the rawest pieces of writing I’ve ever read. You have a knack at creating characters and, of course, playing them through. Thank you for the story you told through her, and also thank you for being the best dungeon master ever. We shall murder Strahd soon.
Sidney — My dragon queen! Last year I was kind of intimidated by you but now I long to hear you crackle as Farrah every Saturday. I am so glad to have known you a tad better because you are a riot. Thank you for Jack and her relentless spirit; Andal shall remember her as his other sister for eternity.
Rave — You’re a treasure. I could spew countless thank you’s about your constant support and kindness and I am doing it now – thank you! You brighten every chat you’re in, and make every conversation ten times funnier with a single comment. Thank you for your tenacity when it comes to the site and its members, too.
Ele — My baby. We don’t talk often, and I wish we do, but that doesn’t mean I have forgotten about you are one of the kindest souls on here. Thank you for what you did to help me during my darkest moments, and for always sharing your light with others. I hope Avriel and Andal become friends, too.
All the tributes and gamemakers — Thank you for the stories you’ve told, for the all blood-suckling and the howls in the night. We had a spooky kooky time together, didn’t we?