Real talk, I love War.
He's fricken hilarious and I love writing his dialog although watching a silent playthrough every time I need a map reference is so irritating. It's easier with my Dark Souls fic because I have that nearly memorized, but I've only done three or four playthroughs of Darksiders. I got all the achievements though!
But I didn't start this note to brag.
The real reason is to remind you! Lovely people! that I'm 100 percent open to requests! ! ! There's prompts on my tumblr if you need 'em! Just throw some characters at me. Tumblr has an anon feature too if you're shy.
I've had a pretty rough week and I really want the distraction tbh.
Thank you for your continued support! I really appreciate it.
You can definitely not make this work.
You let out an ungodly shriek as both you and War are thrown off the angelic mount, throwing your limbs out as if to protect yourself from the rapidly approaching ground. It's gotta be at least a three story drop, and you know your human body can not survive that.
It would really suck to make it through that horrifically hot cave just to die now. Try explaining that one to Strife, some snippy part of you thinks.
Thankfully, you're engulfed in that vaguely familiar white hot heat before you hit the ground, a protective bubble of warmth keeping all your bones intact.
You collapse anyway, hugging your arms to your chest and shivering violently. "Oh my god." You gasp. I could've died just then.
Dimly, you hear War get to his feet and the sound of Tiamat and the mount fighting. You barely stir as he approaches, only glancing up when he tilts your chin up with one clawed hand. "Advisor."
"War." You answer shakily.
His lips quirk ever so slightly, just enough to distract you. "You mentioned Vulgrim having a shop here?"
You have to work to remember where he is exactly, although that's probably a side effect of shock rather than your general forgetfulness. "On the right in a little alcove. There's a chest of the other side but we need the-" Your hand curls into a fist, struggling to remember the actual name of the weapon. "Crystal smasher thing." You finally settle on.
War nods, his gaze flickering over to said alcove before pulling you onto your feet by the wrist. He keeps your wrist too, not letting go even when you make it clear you can in fact walk-limp on your own.
The pain in your injured side is coming back with a vengeance, and your ribs are starting to feel uncomfortably hot. Not a good sign, you know. You try not to ignore it for the time being.
"You never fail to make a marvelous entrance." Vulgrim greets with a laugh. "And your little human survived too, although they're a little banged up." He holds out your scroll and War releases your arm.
"Finally." You say, frowning.
"Have you got anything for old Vulgrim then, Horseman?" The demon somehow manages to make it sound welcoming rather than flat out creepy, and for that you must applaud him. Not as creepy as he could have been.
You turn back to your letter with a small smile, very casually wandering a few steps away before opening it. Death's loopy calligraphy greets you:
The Watcher wants to gain an edge in a situation where you hold power. It's probably been informed of your relationship with Strife by its siblings, so it doesn't have any actual blackmail material aside from gossip. I wouldn't be surprised if its siblings have a betting pool on the subject.
You were thrown across a gap. Truly amazing. I'm sure Fury would thoroughly enjoy your aerobatic skills.
How many times can you start a sentence with 'and' in the same letter? English is not anywhere near my native language and I know that's wrong. That is irritating.
Vulgrim not noticing a potential costumer? Samael overlooking you does not surprise me, keeping in mind his arrogance. I do not believe your immunity is part of your leash though. It may be amplified by the Council's influence, but it is not the cause. We will have to look into that later. You are fully human, or so we assumed.
There's a noticeable blank space for several lines and then a teeny tiny sign off -Death and an even smaller rendition of a skull. Or maybe it's supposed to be his mask?
Either way it has you grinning like a fool and nearly squealing with how adorable it is. Death. You got Death to draw a little skull. If this isn't the pinnacle of your social interactions you don't know what is.
"Something good?" Vulgrim guffaws.
"Big brother Death is too fricken adorable, oh my god." You laugh, all too pleased with yourself. "I drew little hearts last time because he said something mushy, you know, and he drew a little skull, this is the best thing ever."
Vulgrim is in stitches by the time your done talking, while War appears honestly concerned for both you and Death. He stares at you with his eyebrows pulled together like you're some kind of trig problem.
"Sorry. This is just great." You add, nearly bouncing with excitement. Your eyes flicker to Vulgrim, "And don't you dare tell him I just said he's adorable. If he doesn't kill me, I'd die of embarrassment."
"Of course." Vulgrim nods, clearly amused. "I can't have you dead. Now, War, you were thinking of buying this?"
War turns his attention back to Vulgrim after a pause, in which you pull out your reply journal and scrawl with little eloquence:
Sorry if this is messy, we're about to take on the first of the Chosen. Tiamat, in case you're up-to-date with that sort of thing. She's supposedly a bat queen, although she exhibits no typical bat traits so I think she's a fraud.
You know I actually liked the Watcher as character. It's quite the challenge to not wish him dead though. Which is definitely not a hint. At all.
Thanks. It was almost as impressive as your ability to sound sarcastic even in writing.
And yet I will continue to begin my sentences with 'and'. What are you gonna do about it, Death? Fight me?
I'm kidding. Don't actually take that as a challenge, I am WEAK.
Speaking of which, I think I might've cracked a rib or two. Fight club participants used that summoning thing and whatever is protecting me from demonic bs threw me against the damn wall. And then War scolded me. I haven't updated him.
You sign off with a few actually bat like creatures and more hearts for good measure, handing it off to Vulgrim when War decides its time to start.
"Right." You say, nodding determinately. We're gonna be fine. This is just the first Chosen, you finished this in less than an hour the first time. You white knuckle your halberd.
War gives you a strange look, apparently sensing your trepidation. "Should you be warning me of something?"
"No, I'm just a coward." You assure him. "Although, I should've thought to bring an umbrella. It's lookin like rain, and I don't think I can follow you down bellow. Too much lava, I'm sure you understand." You shudder.
War snorts, but doesn't otherwise argue with that.
You marvel at the architecture while he takes care of the last of the outside bats, now smiling. "This place would've so pretty. Before the demons, of course."
He pauses. "...you sound reminiscent."
"I am. I miss my home." You shrug. "But what's done is done, you know? And now, I've got an important job to do. It just sorta sucks that I'm seeing all these awesome places like... Postmortem though. I always wanted to travel but..." You make a face.
War shakes his head, repeating, "Postmortem?"
"Do you have a better word?" You huff, finding it quite the challenge to make it up even the gentle incline of the steps. Crybaby. You bite the inside of your cheek and try to suck it up.
War is thankfully a few feet ahead of you and therefore does not see the horrible face you're making. Kicking open the door, he answers, "Decrepit?"
"That sorta implies it's from natural causes though." You hum, happy he's playing along. Although perhaps playing isn't the best word.
Before War can think of a better word, Shadow puts an end to your conversation, "Over here!" It seems awfully annoyed for someone who doesn't actually do anything. "You're supposed to be helping, not distracting him." It scolds you.
You ignore it in favor of asking War, "Can I hold that?"
The Horseman simply stares at you, holding the glowy blue sword in his off hand.
"I like weapons, okay?" You pout. Come on, I just wanna hold it. My halberd won't mind.
He lips tilt up, and you swear your heart stops. "Fine." He concedes, making a show of holding the sword out for you.
"Yesss!" You let out the most childish squeak, extremely pleased he let you have it. It's much to heavy for you to wield properly, but damn does it feel cool.
"Careful not to break it, Glitch." Shadow taunts.
You make an impressed noise in your throat, deciding it's not worth actual words. You cannot believe it's actually gonna call you Glitch.
You will admit you're relieved when it fades back into War's gauntlet, although you realize it's ridiculous to think that actually makes a difference. Its job description is literally to watch. Getting alone time is an impossibility at this point.
You're less than pleased to have to return your newly acquired sword though (what kind of statue needs a fucking sword, you wonder bitterly) and the grinding noise the door makes causes you to cringe.
Not as much as the screeching noise the mount makes though. You latch onto War's pauldron as casually as possible, your free hand gripping your halberd. "Poor thing."
"It is buying us time." War responds, making no movement to push you away. He does however look at side again and you're certain he's aware you lied to him about being 'fine'.
"So... Who designed this place? We're in a church for gods sake. 'Lets just throw in an arguably clever sword puzzle, just to fuck with people'." You ask, looking around.
War doesn't respond, and you continue to question the sanity of the architects while he moves to throw several of the bats into the lava river in the middle of the room. You don't remember that being a thing in game, but you chalk it the dev's not wanting to make an entirely new animation just to make War seem more badass.
You make your way over to the next door and open it like a normal person. War looks downright confused when he's meets you in the courtyard, although it quickly morphs into annoyance when the demons show up.
You're very pleased to note the two of you have sort of got a pattern now. War knows you've got his back as long as he keeps the demons focus and you know his style well enough to not get slashed.
"Some warning would have been nice." War says when they're all dead.
You're leaning heavily against your halberd, simply glaring at him. "What? You want a heads up every time demons want you dead? You know that's like... Constant, right?"
He sighs, glancing around irritably rather than pick a fight with you.
"The statue." You say, moving to stand over the cracked area of the floor. "You've gotta push the statue so you can get down below and I'll just... Hang out."
Damn my weak human body.
"Just go through that door and you'll figure the rest out, I'm sure. Remember to get the chest too. It's got souls or something." You settle down on the other side of the courtyard, taking shelter from the steadying increasing rain.
War makes a displeased noise and stomps away. Rolling your eyes (how childish), you pull out your notebook and begin mapping out your game plan.
You try to remember any and everything from War's game and then put it into a timeline. You mark things you can change with little stars, although there's not many of them. You circle the word 'Ruin' with hearts. Honestly you cannot wait to free him. Poor horse has been through a lot with his partner gone.
The only things your worry about are A) staying alive and B) in the case that you do make it to the end, your belt.
Will the Council still have power over you after this is all over?
The idea makes you very uncomfortable, but you don't have a definitive answer and its very possible that the Council will know of your betrayal if you try to ask either War or Death. Death would definitely know how to break it though, right? He knows all about weird magic.
You're debating trying to get a letter to Death without Shadow learning of it when War kicks down the statue and you practically feel your soul leave your body in fright.
"War!" You hiss, bringing your hand over your chest.
It's hard to see from this distance, but you swear he smirks. "Now who needs a warning?"
Oh, I am going to strangle you. You grind your teeth together as he descends the newly created hole in the ground.
Sighing, you turn your attention back to the plan and begin fine tuning your work. You plan on asking the Blackhammer for a pair of claws in order for you to avoid touching any more demonic growth (or equally disgusting substances) but you need to figure out whether or not that means you should help War with his half of the angels. Would he respect a human who's not afraid to grapple with angels, or would he assume its cheating because you're on the same side as War?
That also brings up the can I actually help War with the Greiver? situation, because you cannot hold your breath as long as a Horseman. They hardly need to breath at all apparently. Their heartbeats are much slower than humans too, and Strife was extremely confused the first time he noticed yours. Fury, on the other hand, immediately assumed you were dying. Your heart was going a bit faster than usual though, given that you were in the middle of training.
You smile at the memory, nearly writing 'Fury' down in your notebook. It wouldn't really fit in with "Ask Ulthane for claws, maybe don't follow war into the sewer/train place, and talk to Vulgrim about your belt."
You continue to try and come up with solutions while War searches for the beholder's key that will open up the next fight club.
You know he's at least half way through when two demons appear, probably planning on 'guarding' the gate (as if two demons could stop War). You abandon your notebook on the ground and take care of them with your trusty halberd. It sparkles as you clean off their gross demon blood and silently bemoan War's absence. He would've killed them in a tenth of the time you took.
You take it as a sign the universes agrees when War jumps out not a minute later, the key in his hand.
"Have fun?"
"No." He answers simply, heading for the door. You stuff your notebook back into your pack and follow soon after. He raises an eyebrow when he sees your blood spattered state, stopping mid-motion.
"Demons." You shrug, waving towards the door.
His expression remains confused even as he turns back to shank the Beholder.
Did he not think me capable of killing only two demons? You make an effort not to take it personally but... Wow. Rude.
You once again decide to wait outside for War, your resolve only strengthened when you notice the lava rivers. "It's a mini-boss, nothing big. You can handle it." You tell him.
War's eyes narrow dangerously before you're being scooped up in his arms.
"Hey-"
"You're fine." He huffs.
"Well, yeah, but my appearance has nothing to do with my hardiness." You shoot back, trying not to look terrified as he jumps over the first lava trap.
He makes that face you know is his 'I have no idea what you just said' expression.
"Fine is slang for attractive, man, you really are out of the loop. Even Strife knows that one." You raise your eyebrows.
"Strife-" He makes the second jump before finishing, "Spends more time with humans than the others."
You can actually feel Shadow melt out of the gauntlet to inform you, "Yesss, he doesn't play well with his fellow Horseman."
War sets your shuddering self down when the bigger demon appears, and while they battle it out you continue your conversation with Shadow. "I know. I assumed that's why he took so quickly to me."
"You were his last resort?" The Watcher taunts, obviously trying to get a rise out of you.
"Of course, don't you know you save the best for last?" You retort. "Like dessert."
It makes a gross growly noise, circling you. "What hubris."
"Hey, now," You start, pouting. Your argument is cut off by a piece of armor flying toward you. Your arms fly up to cover your face, but it goes flying past your shoulder. Thankfully.
"Hey, what the hell, dude!?" You demand, glaring at said demon.
War presses his lips together like he's trying not to laugh, using the demon's distraction to land the finishing blow. You once again shield your face, hissing in sympathy. It's gotta suck to be bisected like that.
War yanks the sword out, pausing a few seconds before holding it out for you.
You squeak with excitement. "Oh, thank you!" You take the offered sword. You're too busy swinging it to notice his small grin. "I really love weapons."
You do notice War is a little less demanding than usual when he says its time to proceed, but his claws are as harsh as ever when he scoops you up. You loathe to admit you like it.
"Where do you recommend?" He asks when you're back in the courtyard.
"Back into the main room, across the hall. There's another courtyard, some puzzles, and then Tiamat." You hum, clutching the sword tightly in your hands.
War doesn't respond, and you follow him out into the main room again. The heat hits you like a tidal wave, starkly contrasting the cold rain. Making your way the next angel, you hand them the sword with a pout.
"I'll miss you." You tell it dramatically. Your own weapon hums with displeasure. Pulling it off your back, you press your cheek to the flat edge. Your reassurances that you love the halberd more than any other weapon are cut off by the Angelic Mount's and Tiamat's screeching.
"Ugh." You cringe, focusing on War rather than the grappling pair. "God, I hate Tiamat."