#mane hellbeast

[wardenmop]

feeling a bit rough lately so i returned to GW2 to relax and took some screenshots of my favourite girl Mane :]

[sailing-through-hawkins]

had this in my head and then saw this post by @babyboyargyle so i took it as a sign to write it out! it's not perfect but it was fun (*^▽^*)

Say what you want to about monsters and killers and the apocalypse but at least this time they've got all-day access to pizza. Steve doesn't really know where this guy came from but damn, he makes a great margherita.

"Guys, this is Argyle," Jonathan introduces, waving towards a man with very, very long hair, holy shit.

Steve takes a second from hammering nails into the fifth bat that he's been tossed to give the guy a nod. He nods back, eyes flitting between the bat in Steve's hands to the bandages wrapped around his waist. But Steve's used to everyone keeping an eye on his wounds, from his stomach to his back to his arms to his head. He's a magnet for damage, that's just how it is.

"Hey man," Steve greets with a wave and gets back to hammering. "Welcome to the shitshow."

"Y-yeah," Argyle swallows with another nod. "Glad to be here."

At first, he seemed like a great addition. Argyle's funny, chill in a way that Steve hasn't experienced since '83, maybe even before that. Despite all the monsters lurking and the crackling in the air, dude kept his cool and got to work on food supplies and even teaching everyone how to do tracking shit like something out of a nature show.

But then, on their way back to the base (also known as Steve's fucking house), Jonathan's team is almost swarmed by demodogs and Steve and Robin have to run out to give 'em hell.

Ha, giving hell to the hellbeasts. Is that irony? Dustin would call it irony, Steve thinks.

After a little carnage and some (very therapeutic, according to Robin) violence, they manage to annihilate the 'dogs and get Will to throw their tracks off so they have their safe zone for a bit longer at least, but Argyle is quiet and frantic-eyed the entire walk home. It unsettles Steve, all that antsy energy building up under the surface.

Once safely inside, Jonathan and Nancy start on organizing the new supplies. It's when Jonathan manages to drop a water bottle that all that tension finally bursts.

"Shit, oh man, shit, shit, oh my god!" Argyle's pacing back and forth, hands scrunching up into his scalp which, yikes, not a good look for that mane. "This is so messed up, this is crazy, this is so messed up!"

Jonathan steps forward with a, "Argyle, Argyle, listen -"

"No, no, no, last time I listened to you, there was an open grave in front of me and now there's like fifty thousand demons out there! The world is fucking crazy right now, man, I am freaking out! I am -"

Okay, damage control time.

"Hey, hey, hey -" Steve shifts himself into Argyle's line of sight, holding his hands up and letting out a low whistle. "Dude, take a breath, alright?"

Which is apparently all the guy needs to latch his hands onto Steve's shoulders very, very tightly, holy shit, this guy's grip. "How am I supposed to breathe when -"

"Look at me, in-and-out, alright?" Steve exaggerates his own breathing, letting Argyle take his time in copying the motions. "In, out, in, out, you're doing good. It's pretty scary out here, huh?"

Argyle's grip on his shoulders tenses but Steve quickly grabs onto his wrists, gives them a short squeeze, and suddenly all that tension deflates. Which means physical contact is a go for reassurance, nice. "Yeah."

"I get it, man, I do. First time I got into this shit? I was ready to hightail it outta there and never look back, y'know?" He looks up from under his lashes, giving the guy what he hopes is a comforting smile. Judging by the hitch in his breath, it's not as comforting as Steve hopes. "But I get the feeling you're a ride-or-die type, right?"

Argyle shrugs, eyes fixated on Steve like he's the last hope he's got. No pressure.

"Look, I can't like - I can't guarantee much, wouldn't wanna jinx anything, but we're going to handle this, alright?" Damn, his hands are really warm. Is it because he's stressed? Even Steve doesn't run this warm when he's stressed, dude must be keeping a lot of anxiety under all that...weed? California weed? Whatever, focus, Steve. "It's not our first or second, not even third rodeo with this shit, we can absolutely handle it."

"You can handle it," Argyle says in what Steve thinks might be...petulant? Oh, that's fun, this guy is totally going to be fun to have around for the long haul. "Man, I don't even know what the hell is going on anywhere anymore."

Steve laughs, rubbing circles into Argyle's skin with his thumb. He's definitely wired up but that tight spark of panic in his eye is getting dimmer, so the contact might actually be working here. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think any of us know what's happening."

"How -"

"That's the thing, we don't need all the answers right now," Steve pats his wrist and tries a different kind of smile this time which, judging by the way Argyle's gulping and kind of just staring at him, might be working? Okay, fifty-fifty on that. "Just need to figure it out one step at a time."

"I don't - I'm kinda freaking out here, dude," Argyle confesses, like it wasn't kinda obvious for everyone in the room, as he lets go of Steve's shoulders (fuck, his grip is killer, there's definitely gonna be marks tomorrow) and lets his hands hang by his waist in a really sad way. Steve nods, patting his shoulder and gently leading him to the closest chair he can find (of course it's the sofa Mike left his socks on, god damn it Wheeler). "I'm not cut out for this freaky stuff, man, what if - what if we don't make it -"

"Hey," Steve says sharply, immediately regretting it when Argyle flinches at his tone. Take a breath, relax, the guy's worried, that's all. Steve softens his voice, and rubs a hand down his back when he buries his face in his hands. Huh, that's a quality shirt. "Hey, I get it. Believe me, I know how overwhelming this all is when you've got like, zero clue how it all happened. But I got your back here, dude, I'll watch your six."

And woah. Argyle snaps his face back to Steve, eyes wide and mouth just slightly agape. "You what?"

"'S kinda my job," Steve shrugs, continuing to rub his back so he can figure out why this material feels so familiar, what the hell.  "I'm the babysitter," - ignore Mike's affronted scoff, stay focused - "I keep track with the whole newbie thing most of the time. I mean like, we all got your back but y'know - like -  I'll personally make sure nothing happens to you, if that helps?"

Argyle stares at him for a few seconds, making it really hard not to squirm in the silence. Steve settles for scratching at his nose, finally taking his hand off that damned shirt, the fuck kind of brand is it?! Not important, focus, focus.

"Uh, sorry if that - I didn't mean to come on too strong or anything -"

"Holy shit, dude," Argyle breathes out, one of his (very warm) hands coming down to grip Steve's knee. "You're like, a godsend."

"Oh, uh, thank you?" Steve blinks when Argyle beams at him and pats his knee. Huh, maybe he's getting better at this comforting stuff. "Are - you good now?"

"Hell yes, my friend, I have a killer beast 'watching my six', don't I?" Argyle winks and shit, Steve's wounds must be inflaming again, his skin feels hot. "Now who's ready for some pie!"

Steve watches as he swoops up, practically glowing with such a positive energy it's kind of giving him whiplash. He stares as Argyle makes his way to the kitchen, snatching another glance back at Steve and giving him a wide grin, another wink and a salute before he disappears.

"What just happened?" Steve blinks again.

Jonathan pats his shoulder in sympathy which, uh, why? "You've just been Argyle'd."

"What does that even mean?" Steve splutters because what the hell is even happening. "And what did he mean by an open grave?"

"It's a long story," Jonathan sighs and gives him another pat. "Tell you once you help me sort out the water supply."

"The supply that you were supposed to figure out before you left, that water supply?"

"Fuck you," Jonathan grins and Steve shakes off the buzzing heat under his skin.

Everything's fine, all is cool. Just gotta keep an extra eye on Argyle.

Easy-peasy. Fuck, please be easy-peasy.

[bedlamsbard]

mylordshesacactus replied to your post: mylordshesacactus replied to your post: ...

look, togruta just feel like they should be maned wolves

I mean, the hellbeast form looks the same no matter the base species, but still. An eternal omg.

[ecotone99]

Passage to Gehenna [SP]

"Is it much farther?" Noah whined and dragged his feet as the two damned creatures made their way to Gehenna. A demon and the wraith had left the carbonized cities of Hell far behind. The menacing mechanical peaks were barely visible over Noah's shoulder.

​

"Yes, much, much farther. Much more dangerous now, too," Sanguchirum explained. The giant monster led the way to a ruined temple discovered thousands of years ago.

​

"Won't we get in trouble for leaving the city?" Noah picked up a petrified branch of something, but it crumbled to ash in his hand. There were no trees around, only a flat expanse of rusted, soured dust.

​

"Who would stop us?"

​

"I don't know. Satan? Isn't he in charge here?"

​

Sanguchirum tossed his black-maned head back and roared with laughter, "You idiot! Do you think Satan is in charge? He's not our warden; he's a prisoner here, like the rest of us!" The demon turned and slashed at Noah in rage, but his claws passed right through. An unholy boon had turned the young man into a wraith after he was damned to Hell.

​

"Well, then why do you call him the Prince of Hell and all that?"

​

"I don't call him that. Humans called him that. He can't even leave the Depths, and he can't control the Damned. Nothing controls us."

​

"I'm hungry."

​

"There is no food or drink here." Sanguchirum reared on his hind legs and sniffed the acrid air. Ions buzzed around his nostrils. A radiation storm condensed in the distance.

​

"I need to find shelter." The hellbeast used his senses to detect empty pockets and caverns underground.

​

Glaucous-green clouds churned low in the distance, laced with tendrils of lightning. The wind turned ferocious, but Noah's damned spectral form felt nothing. "Can that storm hurt me?" Noah stood at the mouth of a cave Sanguchirum uncovered.

​

"No. Intangibility means intangibility. The soul you stole was meant to be my sacrifice to get the boon. But you're trash, and you're stuck as a wraith for the rest of your worthless eternal existence." Sanguchirum retreated deeper into the cave. The demon belched fire to scatter bothersome insects and spirits. Even beasts of Hell were threatened by giant black centipedes with pinchers that flayed the flesh from bone. "Wake me when the storm recedes."

​

Noah sat at the cave opening and watched the clouds descend. He felt neither wind nor sulfurous hail on his face. There was no way to measure the passage of time, so he sat, transfixed, by the churning sea of clouds above. Finally, everything turned dark, misty, and settled. Noah looked to the horizon, but could no longer see the city of Hell. He went to get the demon.

​

Sanguchirum followed the wraith out of the cave. The barren plain had been thoroughly soaked and mutated into a poisoned swamp.

​

"Bile weeps from the ground and pools in low areas," the monster explained. "We go this way."

​

The pair made slow, serpentine progress through the swamp. The wraith and the demon wandered for a long time, years, Noah felt in his internal calendar. Sanguchirum remained silent when they finally exited the swamp fog, but Noah could not contain himself and gasped loudly, "Whoa!"

​

Before them, a flat, vast, and sandy expanse stretched deep into the distance. Above, dense, fluffy clouds diffused bright white light, like a cloudy afternoon back in the living world. A break in the clouds revealed green deciduous forests, a pearly winding river, and snow-capped mountains inverted high in the sky.

​

"What the hell is that up there?" Noah pointed to the world overhead.

​

"No way to know. It is not the living world. Probably a kind of purgatory or benign reality trapped here with us," the demon explained as they made their way across the endless plain.

​

They passed eons-dead colossi the size of mountains, slumped with rusted greatswords buried in the dirt. Sanguchirum pointed out crude mud structures in the distance, home to ancient entities banished by the Almighty before the Earth took form.

​

"I learned of Gehenna from them. Soon, they will turn to ash, and I will be the sole possessor of this knowledge."

​

"What knowledge?"

​

"A doorway exists that connects this plain of existence to all the others. Escape and opportunity."

​

"Come on, we're dead. Not like we can go to another reality and start all over." Noah looked up at the misty world above longingly. The clouds never thinned enough to show details, and it frustrated him. It looked so familiar like he'd flown over the same landscape in an airplane.

​

"I'm not staying here." Sanguchirum led them further still until Noah was able to perceive a slight curvature of the horizon.

​

"You never told me what Gehenna actually is. Is it the portal?"

​

"It was a place of sacrifice, especially children. Ancient kings would offer animals, slaves, and most often, sons to the fires of Baal. The Valley of Gehenna in the living world was a tiny facsimile of the true temple. Here in Hell, the temple distorts space and time, drawing energy from a dark, unseen force. You will hear the distortions as we get closer."

​

"Is Baal the one who gave me this boon in exchange for the kid I killed? I can't remember now." Noah tried to remember the circumstances of his death and damnation, but the memory had faded. Hell eroded all.

​

"Yes." Sanguchirum had explained to the young man, when Noah first arrived in Hell, that he would soon lose all knowledge of himself and the living world. "We are here to be forgotten," he had said.

​

As they continued their march, the horizon morphed upward into a symmetrical open curve. The wraith perceived the ground rising up all around them, as though they were walking into an empty cauldron. Noah heard the dark energy within seethe, contract, and release with a thunderous hammer on the universe.

​

The center of the caldera was dark. Noah was blind in the corners of his vision.

​

"The fire still burns down there." Sanguchirum pointed to the epicenter of the dark energy. "That's where we must go."

​

As the pair descended, the ground became smooth stone, and the sky disappeared. The only source of light came from a pulse from the destination. Even in incorporeal form, Noah felt the waves of gravity break across and shove him back and forth.

​

"Do you feel it? Can you see it? This beautiful darkness…" The demon gestured to the core of the profaned temple. There smoldered the agitated, dying heart of a star.

​

"Enter it, and tell me what you see," Sanguchirum commanded Noah.

​

The light was barely perceivable now as Noah crept closer. He felt the heat and was mesmerized by the swirling surface of black, red, and gold, like a sphere of rapidly cooling slag. The wraith reached out and touched the surface. He felt nothing.

​

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Noah called over his shoulder, but could not see or hear Sanguchirum. With a shrug, the young man crossed the threshold of the dark star's surface and disappeared. Drawn ever closer to the star's core by dark energy, Noah's ethereal body was torn apart, decimated, and absorbed, never to be released from the inescapable well of gravity.

​

The demon Sanguchirum, having observed Noah's disintegration, was already on his way back to the cities of Hell. "Fool," he concluded.

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