2009-01-08 - Sacrifice

Mustafar: Fiery Chasm
There is a dull roar that comes trembling up from the depths of this great chasm, and it is the sound of hissing violence held in check and raging at its bonds. The fissure plunges down some three hundred feet and the walls reach up, jagged stone piling upon jagged stone to form the inside of a great cone.
This place is lit from below by the seething red light of a lake of magma that boils and froths, sending great splatters of liquid stone and metal striving upwards. Occasionally one of these flares reaches too high, and the annoyed flicker of a deflector shield ripples with static as it throws the super-heated fluid back down into the depths. High up, where even the harsh light of molten rock cannot follow, the pinnacles of the chamber disappear into gloomy, fume-choked shadow, and are illuminated infrequently by the flickering lightning shown through the open crater of the roof.
On the east and western sides small shelves of natural stone have been leveled to make rough overlooks jutting not more than twenty feet from the sloping walls of the cone at their widest. From the center of these shelves a wide, ashen-gray bridge of scored and pitted stone reaches forth to span the hellish drop. There are no walls or hand-rails on the bridge, and despite being twenty feet wide it seems small in the enormity of the chasm.
On the eastern side of the bridge a small tunnel has been bored into the living stone and it reaches upward immediately in a flight of uneven steps. On the western side stand the mouths of two tunnels: one which continues straight west and downward, and the other which goes off at an angle before turning a corner to drive due south. Next to this southern tunnel stands a simple control panel with a single display screen, the whole of which is obscured with grime and deposits from the thick, harsh atmosphere.
Obvious exits:
[West Tunnel] towards Secret Laboratories. 
[South Tunnel] towards Private Living Chambers. 
[East Tunnel] towards Central Chamber. 
Anneke
A pale, short and slender girl who appears to be in her mid to late teens. She stands around five feet tall, and carries herself with an awkward sort of grace. Her brown hair is relatively short, and currently pulled back into a short, stubby ponytail that leaves a few stray bangs hanging to frame her jawline. A straight nose and high cheekbones and brown colored eyes that have a wide eyed look, giving her expression an equally impish air. A small amount of pale freckles cross her cheeks, and nose.
At the moment she wears an elegant, elaborate gown of an ancient design. A black fabric is brocaded in and floral design and trimmed with gold all along it. The sleeves are flowing, tight at the shoulder and quite wide by the wrist, hanging down a long way. The bodice is back lacing. And the skirts hang down to the ground, with an open front skirt panel and inner sleeves are in turn done in a complimentary diamond pattern.
STATUS: Anneke is a female Human in weathered condition. She is unarmed and wears no obvious armor.
White
This individual stands at what would be average height for a man, or taller than average for a woman--and what would be average build for a woman or just shy of average for a man. The gender is indeterminate--while the fair complexion and sharp features lend it a feminine air, the short white hair has a masculine cut, and there is something about the way this individual stands and moves that suggests a certain masculinity. The eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark glasses. If this person is female, there is nothing about her body that suggests it. 
The individual wears an exquisite white suit, with a white shirt and a blood red necktie. The lapel is decorated with a single blood red rose. The suit does nothing to suggest at the gender of the wearer--it could easily be the suit of a masculine woman or an effeminate man. Elegant white leather shoes adorn the individual's feet.
STATUS: White is a hermaphroditic Human in good condition. It is unarmed and wears Masterwork Dark Glasses.
The fiery chasm has been set up for a sacrifice. A ritual altar stands at the brink of the chasm, bonds open and waiting for their sacrificial victim. A string of explosives surrounds the altar, ready to send it plummeting into the abyss at the ceremony's confusion. And a figure in white leads its prey into the heated chamber--there is a knife at its belt and it carries a force pike as a walking stick. "She joins us as ghosts," intones the figure. "But first she must be cleansed."
 
Anneke is bawling as she is taken, simpering and broken. She may be dressed elegantly, but she's completely failing at maintaining any grace about it, stumbling over the skirts, shaking, unable to even formulate words. Unable even to beg to live.
The figure guides her to the altar and directs her to lay down, wordlessly. It wears a strange smile on its lips--like it derives some pleasure normal beings couldn't fathom from this simple act. It waits patiently, perhaps content in the knowledge that its victim no longer fights, no longer resists--that Anneke has resigned herself to her fate.
Somehow, a pathetic mewl from the girl almost becomes a plea, something like "Please no." But in a high pitched voice, drug out over time. She certainly isn't able to calm herself, to do anything to help herself. Though so far, Anneke isn't laying down, either.
"She lies down," hisses the figure again, wielding the pike now in a more threatening manner, aiming the tip at her torso. "There is much to cleanse before she walks with us as ghosts," it hisses again. "She does not want there to be more."
 
Anneke's breathing goes more rapid as she sees the pike pointing at her chest. And as she makes to lay down on the altar, she's wretching, coughing, but nothing comes up. Just a horrible, sick, defeated and utterly despondant look on her face.
The figure nods its head with evident satisfaction and moves to bind Anneke to the alter, at her arms and legs and one across her waist. "She is a wretched creature," it intones, letting the force pike clatter to the ground and drawing a long knife made of white stone. "She is not pure." It brings the knife down on her left wrist and makes an incision. "Too impure for the fire."
 
That pain brings out a high pitched scream of misery. Anneke's jaw continues to quiver afterwards and she struggles against the bindings, the horror of the situation kicking in even more now that she is there, this close to her demise.
The figure smiles and brings the knife down all the way, holding the severed hand aloft for a moment before ripping a necklace from Anneke's chest and forcing the severed hand closed around it. Then it sets the hand aside, almost reverentially, and raises the knife high above its victim "We guide her to a place where she will not fear death, she will not cry out or plead or tremble. She will be pure, and walk with the dead. We destroy her body so her ghost will be clean."
 
The last scream as to nothing before she lets out this next one. This scream, it is worse, and Anneke wrenches against her restraints more, causing more blood to squirt out even as she turns her head and wretches, this time throwing up for real.
"She joins the silent ones," intones the figure, bringing the knife down on its victim's chest, leaving it embedded there. It steps back a few paces, a small remote device appearing in its hand. There is a beeping sound from the explosives set up around the altar.
One final scream of "Nooooo!" Is abruptly cut off by a gurgle of blood, and the tenseness in the teenaged girl's body suddenly leaves it. A final gurgle and her body is limp... until... BOOM! Flames and explosions rise around her. And the few charred bits that survive the blast fly with the altar down into the lava below.
The figure stands while the explosions go off all around, sending up clouds of smoke and flying rocks. It does not shield its face, but simply laughs in the smoke. And once the explosions have finished, it walks over to the edge of the chasm, stepping around the remains of the altar, and looks over the edge. "She knows peace," it intones, and turns to depart.
Category:January 2009 RP Logs