Awesome stuff! I'm excited that this has re-started!!

:p next part will be new... 

 

 ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

˚₊‧꒰ა welcome to PARADISE. ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

``` DAY: ONE. 

``` PART: ONE, TWO, THREE 

``` DEAD: ZERO. 

``` MISSING: ZERO. 

``` ALIVE: 16/16. 

            ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

again— i am sorry for any mischaracterization: if you need to correct me on personality, please let me know, and I will be more than happy to correct that in future installments. Please enjoy! 

Day 1 Part 1 

Parody was awoken on the rather bright morning by an amplified version of Chihime’s voice. It was rather chirpy and cheery — not something they expected of a “vampire” (she had told them during the meal last night.) Wait… nope, that was definitely not Chihime. It was… definitely brighter. 

“Hurry up!” the voice urged. “We’ve got to eat breakfast, and then you’ll be going on the Bloodmoon Mansion.” 

Parody slid out of bed and began to do the things you would normally do before breakfast— getting changed, making sure they didn’t look like they had been run over in the night (which, of course, they hadn’t been— after all, it was pretty clear that the dining hall had cast some sort of glamour over all of them. Perhaps that was the reason Chihime looked so good?) 

Within a few minutes, Parody was back in faer seat at the dining hall. The figure in front of faer with the megaphone was most definitely not Chihime, and it didn’t quite look like Ariella— although the memories seemed quite blurry. 

The figure’s eyes were a summery golden, with angel-like wings and a starlike halo. 

“Hey,” she chirped. “I’m Azrael, or Azzy, or Azuki! They/them, nice to meet you. You?” 

Parody stuck out a hand awkwardly. “Er, hi. I’m endless_parodies, she/they/faer—“ 

Azzy shook Parody’s hand energetically. “Great!! Is it fine if I call you Parody?” 

“Um, yeah. Uh, one question— where’s Chihime?” 

Azzy scoffed. “Tch, Chi-chi. She’s always running around. Here and there… she said she had some sort of business to attend to. As always. Something about Shiho, I think.” 

“Who’s… who’s Shiho?” 

Azzy shrugged. “Shiho Yukine. She’s a really famous dark mage in the City of Fortune. I’ll take you there someday, yeah?” They flashed Parody a bright smile. 

“Y-yeah, sounds—“ 

The door slammed behind Azrael, and she jumped, before running to greet the guest. 

== 

The 15 of them walked out around two hours after breakfast — at Azrael’s instruction. It seemed that Azrael was to stay and tend to the hall — something none of them really expected. Nonetheless, they were happy to be going on vacation — perhaps to, finally, PARADISE. 

In front of the marble steps was a swirling vortex of flames. It seemed to grow larger and larger, until it finally engulfed them. 

“Welcome to PARADISE.” 

Day 1 Part 2 – 

People are born out of things— sometimes insignificant things. Angels attach their souls to certain objects, and when those objects disappear or crumble, they die with it. Demons are born from hatred and jealousy and evil and all sorts of “sin” — and they never seem to cease to exist. Someday, this world will reach its Ending. 

“Good morning, my esteemed guests.” 

By the time everyone had gotten oriented (some had ended up upside-down, whether by a stroke of luck or a mischevious angel’s touch, nobody could know), the vortex was gone, and in front of them was a smiling… figure. There wasn’t a particular way to describe them. Just a figure. 

“Welcome to the Bloodmoon Mansion. Lady Chihime Yahiro has so graciously lent us her estate, and Heaven’s Great Architect has made a few… ah, minor adjustments. This estate will travel with you, me, Ariella, and any other… advisors that may be in charge of this tour group.” 

The figure looked around, their piercing blue eyes staring into each and every single one of them, as if to find the “Truth” that resided in each one— or rather, the “sin”? 

“My name is Raphael Kylachoria, and I will be your guide for today. Ariella will join us tomorrow. You will be split into three groups, each with someone from the lowest order leading you.”

The surroundings slowly morphed into a marble triangular room, with walls that seemed to rise up to meet the sky. A hallway was positioned at each corner, as well as a sort of circular elevator that sparkled in the middle. Above the hallways hung glimmering signs. 

Raphael coughed as a scroll materialized in his hands. He adjusted his glasses. 

“Moon Wolf. Twilight. Anastasia. Titanoboa. Sanseviera. Rainbow Riot. You will be under the care of Kiara Emantaria and Ezra Blackwell. You will each have your own rooms; and you six will constitute the Belonging Group.” 

A girl with bright blue hair waved at them from a corner excitedly, and a black-haired boy nodded at them from behind her. 

“Hey; I’m Kiara, and this is Ezra! Nice to meet you all, and I hope we can get to know each other and be friends!” 

Above them, the sign read “Belonging”. 

“Hawkstar. WildSong. Endless_Parodies. Lore. Rin. Sempreverde. You will be under the care of Avian West and Avar West. You will each have your own rooms. You six will constitute the Purpose Group.” 

Two oddly similar people nodded at them politely from a hallway. They both had wavy white hair and piercing green eyes, as well as expansive bird-wings and suspiciously shiny gold rings. 

“Welcome,” they said in sync. “Enjoy your stay.” 

The sign above them read “Purpose”. 

“Scuttles. Fluffles. CelineBurningBright. Ember. Darkvine. You will be under the care of Melody Lilico and Mikayla Lilico. You will each have your own rooms. You five will constitute the “Storytelling” Group.” 

Two albino twins waved in sync from underneath the “Storytelling” sign. They were practically identical and holding hands, which made it all the harder to tell them apart. 

“Please enjoy your stay here at the Bloodmoon Mansion.” 

— TIMESKIP & POV SHIFT — 

*note here: avian/avar have interconnected minds.

Hawkstar thought the leads were a particularly interesting case. Well— cases, plural. For one, Kiara seemed far too young to be an adult. And… Avian and Avar gave her the chills. There wasn’t a single moment where they two weren’t apart— they talked at the same time, walked at the same time, blinked at the same time, breathed at the same time. There was something… particularly odd about this place, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. 

She walked with Wildsong and Parody, while Lore and Rin were walking a little ways behind them. Of course, this meant she occasionally had to fall behind Wildsong and Parody because of a particularly narrow corridor or a badly placed suit of armor. She hated those moments— but they weren’t common. So… she supposed she didn’t mind much. 

“Welcome to Purpose,” the West siblings said in sync. Hawkstar shuddered slightly, getting the Uncanny Valley vibe. 

“Here is where you will stay while we are here. Please enjoy the rooms. Complimentary snacks will be provided, and your rooms are labeled with your name,” the two spoke monotonously. They didn’t even blink while speaking. There was something robotic about them… and it was… well, interesting, she supposed. 

The two of them pushed open the double doors and walked in together, their feet perfectly in sync, as if a metronome was timing them. Tick-tock, tick-tock… 

Hawkstar soon realized that was just the grand clock in the lobby. It was a circular room, with walls that stretched up, up, and away, and a dome ceiling made of glass. It felt like a cage— but a golden one. Hawkstar breathed in. Air… air, air, air, the sanguine air… air that filled her lungs and made her free. Was she free? 

“Ah— Hawkstar, you are, of course, free to fly. We’ll be in our own room. You will find that your room is… particularly suited to your interests.” 

They gestured in sync to a gilded door with the emerald design of a hawk on it, before turning the other way abruptly and heading to their own door. 

Hawkstar pushed open the door to her room and found it reminiscent of… well, a field. It was really an open-air atrium. The walls were made of glass (and in some parts that required privacy, beige walls) and decorated with golden stars sprinkled everywhere. It was… beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. There was a fountain in the middle of the atrium that tinkled water, and everywhere around her was the sound of nature.

She wasn’t complaining. Her massive wings unfurled as she jumped off the field, catching a drift of wind that floated her up, and up, and up… 

Day 2 Part 3 

Each room was customized to fit the needs of the soul who inhabited it. The Bloodmoon Castle had hired him to make sure of that, after all. But how could he customize rooms when he barely even knew the person? 

Michael grumbled to himself as he took another sip of his scalding coffee, staring mindlessly at the designs he had sketched for the PARADISE trip. Horrifying, horrifying, zero potential, what even is this?--- His eyes fell upon a small stamp in the center of the sketch. 

There… no. This had to be a joke. 

Michael swore, slamming the desk loudly. These designs hadn’t been implemented yet— had they? 

His fingers spun over the telephone wheel deftly, and it rang loudly throughout the room. Three times, and a cheerful voice picked up. 

“Hello, hello~ Vivienne speaking, how may I help you? 

“Get Cel on the line. Now.” growled Michael, his hands clenching into fists and crumpling the papers. This could mean the end. The end of everything. 

“Celeste or Celine?” Vivienne hummed. 

Jesus. Her voice was annoying, to say the least. It was a sing-song careless tone of voice… exactly the type of person Michael hated. 

“Celeste.” 

“She’ll be right with you, sir!” Vivienne chirped. 

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes positively wild with frustration. 

In a few seconds, Celeste’s voice replaced Vivienne’s/ 

“Hello? Michael? Vivi told me—” 

“Good morning, Celeste. Have the sketch plans been finalized and implemented?” Michael’s voice cut through hers like a knife cuts through paper. His voice was cold. Colder than it had ever been. 

“Yes, sir.”

Michael swore again, and he swore he could hear Celeste jump through the phone. He really didn’t mean to scare the poor angel, but… 

“Pull all the guests out of the rooms. This is an order—” 

A strange monotone beeping came from the other end of the phone. 

“Celeste? Hello? Pull the guests from the rooms—” 

“THE END IS COMING.” 

“Celeste. This isn’t a joke.” 

“THE END IS COMING.” 

“Celeste. This is an order.” 

“THE END IS COMING.” 

“This is an order from your superior!” 

“THE END IS COMING.” 

Michael slammed the phone back on its rack and stormed out of his office. He hurriedly put on his coat, then his hat, then grabbed his weathered suitcase. Within a couple of seconds, the door had slammed shut, and he was walking down to the Bloodmoon Mansion. 

At the same time, one singular soul felt an overwhelming urge to kill. 

 

 ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

˚₊‧꒰ა welcome to PARADISE. ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

``` DAY: THREE. 

``` PART: 

``` DEAD: NONE 

``` MISSING: ZERO. 

``` ALIVE: 16/16. 

            ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Day 3 Part 1 

Every soul in the building woke up to the screaming outside. It was like a child throwing a temper tantrum — except it was an adult. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T PULL THEM OUT?” 

“My apologies. We are not willing to compromise the safety of our guests on Level One.” 

“LEVEL ONE IS TAME!” 

Michael ran a hand through his hair, his eyes blistering golden, like the sun on a hot day. To any other person, it would’ve burnt them through, but he was looking at Ariella, his equal. 

“Ariella. Listen to me. I will destroy this place if you do not pull the guests out of the room.” 

“I will not allow that.” 

“I will burn it to the ground. Ariella— Ariella, the end is coming—” 

“Please leave now, Michael. You are not welcome here. Our guests will deal with whatever technical difficulties they have themselves.” 

Michael grabbed Ariella’s shoulders, blazing golden meeting calm yellow. “Ariella. Ariella, the end is coming— I got the call—” he sounded more and more panicked by the second. “Ariella. Ella, please, I can’t let this happen—” 

Ariella looked down. “I’m sorry, Michael. I wish… I wish it could be a different way.” 

Her wings flashed out one by one, blindingly bright. She had sworn to protect these guests, this mansion. This was her home. She could not let them out on Level One — a tame level, as Michael had said, but inconspicuously dangerous. She had promised… to protect. 

“...” Michael had the slightest trace of tears in his eyes. “Is this really the path you choose?” 

Ariella lowered her head, her blonde locks falling across her shoulders. “Michael, I have sworn to protect. You of all people should know this.” 

A blazing sword of flames incarnated in her hand. “If you do not leave, I will be forced to act as security.” 

“Ariella…” Michael sighed. “Ella, the end is coming. Don’t you think that… saving us all… is worth more than this?” He gestured towards the mansion and the figures peeping out of it. “Ella. Please. You, me, Raphael, Gabriel — only when we come together can we stop the End—” 

“I have chosen my path, Michael, and so has Raphael. I’m sorry.” 

“Please, Ella—” 

Ariellasighed. “Maybe in another life it would’ve been different… I’m sorry, Michael, but this is goodbye.” 

She raised her sword, and cut open a rift in the void. Michael was dragged into it, and in a few seconds, it closed. Her wings disappeared one by one, dissipating into dust, into nothingness. She sunk to the ground, her hands splayed flat against the dust. 

“Ariella!” Ezra shouted and flung open the front door, rushing to Ariella’s side. “Ariella. You know you aren’t allowed to–” 

“Now is not the time, Ezra.” 

Kiara had followed Ezra, but because her legs were much shorter, she had only reached Ariella now. She flung her arms around Uriel, crying, tears streaming down her face. She cried, because she knew how much it hurt. How much it stung. 

“I’m so sorry, Riri,” she mumbled. “I promise everything will be fine…” 

Ariella just sat there, but if you looked close enough, you could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. 

Day 3 Part 2 

Raphael clinked his glass as he stood up in the particularly quiet dining hall. It was an… eventful morning, he thought to himself. Ariella… using all of her wings, in all her unparalleled glory… he sighed. She was supposed to give these speeches, but she was in the infirmary. Because of her stupid mistakes. 

“Good morning,” he began stiffly. “I hope you are enjoying your stay. As you saw earlier this morning—” he flinched slightly— “Ariella has returned. However, due to some… ah, technical mishaps… she will not be able to appear until perhaps tomorrow or the day after.” 

Raphael coughed and adjusted his spectacles. “Today will be a day mostly for, ah, group bonding. I am sure that all of your… er, mentors… have planned out… wonderful things for you.” 

Rainbow raised her hand. “What happened this morning? Why… who is “Michael”? And what does “the end is coming” mean?” 

If it was even possible, Raphael stiffened up more. His eyes became a cold yellow as he stared deep into Rainbow Riot’s soul. 

“Please do not worry over the state of Ariella. You need not worry about anything. All technical mishaps will be solved,” he replied in a monotone voice. “If you would like more information, please ask Ariella when she is fully recovered. I am sure she would be… ah, delighted to answer you.” 

He clapped his hands. “In the meantime. Please enjoy your breakfast.” 

Day 3 Part 3 

The belonging group wasn’t a particularly happy place. Kiara kept sniffling and shaking her head so her blue bangs were in front of her face. Ezra’s face was stone-cold and he refused to talk about the events of that morning. Both of them had been particularly close to Uriel, Moon Wolf had decided. 

After what was perhaps the fifteenth time Ezra was asked, Kiara looked up, her eyes red and swollen, unwiped tear tracks painting their way down her face. 

“Fine! Okay!” Kiara huffed, throwing herself down and sitting on the floor, covering her eyes. Her voice was muffled as she spoke. “Riri and Michael are the two closest people here. They used to be closer than ayone. Well… I say used to be. Life takes you different places… Michael chose to be the official Architect of Heaven. Ariella declined the offer to work alongside Michael. She… declined because of you. She wanted a true paradise for mortals…” 

Kiara looked away. “Ariella loves Michael— she really does, he’s her favorite. It’s so obvious… she’s so much happier than Michael’s around… but ultimately, she’s decided that…” Kiara sniffed. “Doing this is more important. She… she had to give up Michael… for this… all of this…” 

“Anyways.” Ezra’s cold, cutthroat voice cut through the air. “You are all free to explore the palace as you like. The other groups will be doing the same.” 

===== 

Ariella’s eyes were red. Not in anger, but red and swollen, like she had been crying. She sat limply on the bed, her back bandaged, shards of wings still scattered around her, glittering like a bug’s. Her fists were balled tightly — in anger or lack of control, nobody could tell. Her nails dug crescent-shaped marks into the palms of her hands, like little moons scattered across her palms. 

Like how Michael’s freckles had looked like stars, scattered across his face, as ethereal as the night sky. 

Why? Why did she have to give it all up? 

People walk different paths, she reminded herself. 

Her fists relaxed, revealing the butterfly-like tattoo on the palm of her hand. People walked different paths. Still, she couldn’t shake the sadness off of her shoulders. 

Perhaps a walk would do her some good. 

“Joan, darling, would you mind opening the blinds a little bit?” 

Silence. 

“Joan…?” 

===== 

“So you’re Joan, hmm?” 

The dark figure in front of her hummed slightly as they tightened the ropes around her wrists, viciously tugging it. Joan closed her eyes. 

“Answer me when I speak to you.” 

She nodded slightly. What more could she do? 

Please, Ariella. Please… whichever spirit is listening… please don’t let me die… 

“Ah, Ariella’s beloved caretaker. I wonder what will happen when you’re gone?” 

Joan’s brows furrowed. Please. 

“Nothing much, I presume.” 

She felt cold metal press against her warm skin. 

“Well, we’ll just have to find out, I guess?” 

Joan opened a green eye. 

“Good luck.” 

The last thing she saw was a crazed scarlet red eye. 

=====

pls top 

short part today </3 

 ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

˚₊‧꒰ა welcome to PARADISE. ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

``` DAY: FOUR. 

``` PART: ONE, TWO, THREE. 

``` DEAD: ONE (NON-CB)  

``` MISSING: ZERO. 

``` ALIVE: 16/16. 

            ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

DAY 4 PART 1 

The next morning was somber and silent. It was supposed to contain joy and laughter and everything a mortal could ever dream of. Ariella sighed as she stepped up the stairs, her shoes clicking across the scattered pieces of floorboard, reaching the coffin. 

She inhaled. “Today, we mourn the loss of Joan Vioriano. She was a trusted advisor, caretaker, friend, and confidant.” 

Ariella’s golden gaze landed on the coffin, and her wings stretched out again. She winced in pain, but pointed her finger at the coffin, watching as golden butterflies flew to rest on it, and it began to lightly glow golden. 

“Don’t push yourself too hard, Ari,” Kiara whispered from her side. “You’re bleeding.” 

Ariella touched a hand to her back. Indeed, golden blood seemed to pour out of her sides. What a poetically picturesque scene. 

Never-mind the blood, she decided. 

“May her soul transcend past this realm.” 

The pain began to sting, and her wings began to falter. Still, she held her hand there. 

“May the next world grant her wishes and prosperity, health and fortune.” 

A fluttering of feathers began to fall from her lower three wings as she collapsed, muttering the last sentence. 

“And may she forever rest in peace, like the angel she is.” 

With that, her eyes fluttered closed, and she lay limply on the ground.

DAY 4 PART 2 

Raphael sighed as he waved a  hand, watching Ariella float up into the golden light that would take her to the hospital room. Again… really? 

He turned to the audience with cold eyes. 

“As you can see, Ariella is temporarily incapacitated. You all are dismisse—”

The door slammed open. 

“I TOLD YOU SO!” 

Michael’s eyes were full of fury, his briefcase leaking papers as he stormed down the aisle to point Raphael in the chest, his breath fast and heavy. 

“You.” 

He turned around and faced the audience. 

“JOAN VIORIANO WAS MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD!” he shouted, his hand summoning the murder board he had made. “THIS IS THE RESULT OF YOUR FOOLISH INSOLENCE— THIS IS THE RESULT OF—” 

“Please escort him out of the premises,” Raphael said coolly, motioning to several guards. They nodded and began pushing Michael out. 

“THE END IS COMING!” 

The last they saw of Michael were the fearful blue eyes he bore as the door slammed. 

“So! Now that that is done,” Raphael said, clapping his hands together. “Joan Vioriano was indeed murdered. We are still trying to figure out by whom.” 

Raphael bowed. “You all are dismissed.” 

== timeskip == 

“So, who did it?” 

Wildsong shrugged. “How could we know? There were barely any clues–” 

“I can help you with that.” 

A pale gray-haired bunny girl appeared in a corner. Her crystal blue eyes stared blankly into midair. 

“My name is Vivienne. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

She stiffly held out a hand, and Wildsong took it, shaking it. Vivienne jerked her hand back as she produced a clipboard with a loopy handwriting on it. 

“I cannot stay long.” 

She glided backwards.

 

Wildsong huffed. "This is... well, what is it even meant to say?"

 

On it was a poem. For... of course, no apparent reason.

 

the nightingale soars through a starry sky 

gusts of wind lifting it up, up, up- 

to float amongst the twinkling stars

like a constellation in its own right.

its mind worships the very concept of flying 

floating through the sanguine heavenly air 

caring not for the trivialities of this world 

as it laughs and sings its unrestrained melody 

its cast-iron shackles are lost 

shattered in the livid wind

its wings are freed from their cramped confines, 

its eyes are freed from those monotone designs, 

its song is free to live as it pleases 

oh, how could someone ever bear to lose 

just what they needed? 

yet this nightingale that soars through the midnight sky 

is recaptured and cuffed, 

by humanity’s design. 

this nightingale is cast into the clutches of a cage,

and no matter how pure the gold of the bars, 

it will never be the same. 

this nightingale is forced to sing for billions of crowds, 

while pruned and plucked and trimmed feathers bow, 

but the melody it sings will forever be changed, 

because how could you sing of freedom in a cage rearranged? 

they are forced into flight

while their voice, their song, it all begs for light 

as everything in this world chases after time 

and the ticking clocks try desperately to align

humanity, those cruel captors, will thrive

but it is not in a nightingale’s nature to try and be alive 

so the nightingale (poor thing) 

dies on the floor of a dizzying building

as crowds shriek with terror (what cowards) 

you can’t help but begin to wonder for hours 

do they not realize that they were the cause? 

the blood, the feathers- it was always their fault.

the poor thing, perhaps somewhere it’s flying

but it’s merely a wish, and everywhere, nightingales are dying 

and they find themselves bleeding 

into a ceiling dotted with artificial lights

instead of that heavenly starry sky. 

now, let me tell you the truth— 

this is not the tale of a nightingale

but rather the story of humanity let loose 

the tale of a girl who sent herself to heaven’s mail

her mind still reveres that reverie, 

but it will remain forgotten, 

and she wishes she could re-attain that memory, 

but it is decaying and rotten 

that girl is me, you -

every living creature on this earth 

trapped and killed 

in a cage forgotten 

this shattered society is killing 

our scarlet blood seeps up into sacred skies 

and our lives are sacrifices to dark divines

all for some silly mortal cause-

our hearts shatter on impact, 

and the strings finally snap.

so tell me, little dove 

do you still think we are free? 

---

part three.... later. maybe. hehe

anyways hope you enjoyed it :) the poem is of course related

 

 uriel