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WEEK SEVEN MINGLE
new eden: week 7 mingle
the world anew
the world anew
18 Remain
After all this time, you should be used to waking up to unfamiliar surroundings, right? But, this time, you're not in a bed. There's no roof over your head. It's certainly an unconventional experience, to say the least, but you're here, now. And this is meant to be the end, isn't it..?
So let's get started.
A lush, green forest greets you as you step out into the world outside the cave you awaken in, greeted by soft birdsong and the constant sound of water from every side. The skies above are crisp and blue, but the clouds you can just barely see on the lip of the cliffside so far above you are tinged in dark colors, the promise of rain in the air. Everywhere around you is life, life, life, but no signs of people besides you. Best to find your bearings, and head out.
Waiting for you all in the clearing is Rameel, Satariel, and Yomiel who look to be feeling both anxious and excited for what's in store for everyone this week.
Rameel, with some dramatics that had been missing the last time they were standing before everyone, stands with both arms on their hips and their one wing raised up proudly. Their daemon in the form of a cacomistle on their shoulder. "Here we are! The place of our final showdown and where we're going to end things. It's an interesting battle ground but I hope you are all ready."
Yomiel gives Rameel an unsure glance at those words before addressing everyone themselves. "If we're lucky, we'll get through this without having to fight that much." Their daemon, an ocelot, makes a noise of agreement from their heels. "It's the last stretch, either way, so let's not waste the chance while we've got it. But maybe we should introduce ourselves properly this time."
Satariel pumps their fists, once, when Yomiel says this, daemon fluttering back and forth as a raven, a flurry of excited nerves in the form of black feathers. "Yomiel is right. One last form of rebellion on our own, before we take the final running jump into it together The Celestials will probably join us later, for a little while, but for now..."
All three of the Temporals look at each other, before reaching up for their masks and their hoods, their cloak clasps, and...
Another new week, another new side effect of traveling. Your loose lips are gone, so there'll be no sinking ships (probably?) this go around. Instead, you'll find a word or string of them tattooed somewhere on your body that you certainly didn't have the night before when you went to bed. These words reflect what you perceive your greatest sin or your worst regret to be, and they certainly do not wash off, no matter how hard you try. This effect lasts all week.
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private conversations ✨ murder proposals ✨ curfew ✨ daemons ✨
private conversations ✨ murder proposals ✨ curfew ✨ daemons ✨
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[ hmmm. ]
So, pester you early if we want anything. [ ... ] Noted. Try not to do anything stupid and reckless. But reckless is probably a little of what we need right now.
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[ you die one time... ]
Pester and think about what you want. The six of us only have so much to spare, but I'll try not to do anything too much so.
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... I guess a convenient door back home is out of the question?
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I did, didn't I?
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Ideally, we all leave this place and go home. That’s the goal. All of us.
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At least we're in some agreement. As I've said—I don't mind paying a small price.
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Yeah, but I think a lot of us are against the idea of you six doing something that sacrifices you in some way or form.
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Then it looks like you have a lot of work ahead of you to settle.
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I’m hoping the more you pull away from the angels, the more we’ll be able to wrangle out of you to prevent that. Along with what we know.
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Well, as things stand, I'm as far as I can be removed from the angels while still being a vital part of the plan.