it's a dead man's party; who could ask for more?

[deadelfwalking]

Date & Time: 10/9, however many days beyond
Location: Around the city
Characters: Koltira Deathweaver, yOU?
Summary: this stupid fuck is back from the dead. you should probably punch him in the goddamn face.
Warnings: this intro prose is hideously purple pls forgive



He knew of the rumors, had heard the theories whispered throughout the halls of the Undercity, the muttering among the troops he once commanded at Andorhal. According to some, true death for the undead was a release, and perhaps this was the case for the petty troops of the Scourge: the ghouls, the geists, all those creatures who were merely shells for otherwise untainted souls. But for the higher orders of the undead, the reality was much more dire. Koltira's will was his own, but his soul was irrevocably stained, fractured by the Lich King and the unforgivable acts Koltira had committed while enslaved to that overarching dominance. He was damned in this life and the next, as he discovered soon after the last of his energy ebbed out of his broken, mangled body.

For a few brief, shining moments, he felt restored. Whole. Koltira had observed his corpse, now truly still, unattended on the forest floor, and felt nothing but serenity. But then he was thrust into another world, blinded and lost, beset on all sides by slavering, growling things that stared at him hungrily as they gathered for their feast.

Koltira had no defenses. He could not move, nor cry out; he was nothing but vulnerable spirit stuff here, tender and primed for the shredding. And the shredding had come. An eternity seemed to pass, and each inching, crawling second of it was stretched out beyond rational possibility. The creatures of this otherworld had fed on him, ceaselessly, mercilessly, until he was sure that there was no more of him left to take. But somehow their claws always found something to slice. His consciousness was reduced to the basest emotions: despair; terror; agony. He was nothing else, and he deserved nothing else.

Then, inexplicably, Koltira had woken up. He was back on the island, back in his monstrous body, Byfrost lying next to him. The Initiative had resurrected him, and for once he was relieved to feel the old, familiar pain coursing through his limbs. It was nothing compared to what he had just endured.

Koltira's armor was not there in the infirmary, but someone had laid out a suit and a pair of gloves, presumably taken from his sparse room in the apartments. He had climbed out of the bed, dressed himself, taken up Byfrost, and walked out. There was work to be done.

The memory of the past few days lingered, nevertheless, haunting him as he moved about the city, coming and going in brief, dark flashes. He supposed it would for some time.

[ooc: tags can be either action or prose; whatever is easiest! You may find him on the street, in the bars, or lurking in the apartment buildings over the next several days.]

Comments

[deadelfwalking]

[now he's feeling a bit more guilt, especially at Ashraf's expression. He mutters, shutting his eyes.]

No, Ashraf. Of course not.

[there's a brief pause, and his eyes flutter open.] --how did you know that I had died?

[healplz]

Emma Frost witnessed it, and confirmed your death for a small group. [ His hand drops away, as does his gaze. ] Even if she had not, it would not have been difficult to draw the conclusion.

[deadelfwalking]

Witnessed it? [scoff.] Impossible. Arthas and I were alone. I made damn sure of that.

[He can't handle this solemn sadness. Anger, a lecture, perhaps a violent shove--any of those reactions would have been easier for him to process than this plain unhappiness. He sees no reason for it. It is unfathomable to him.]

[healplz]

You were apparently not as thorough as you'd intended to be.

[ He's quiet for a second, two, then waves a hand to the side of them. One of those spinning blue portals opens, and he nods toward it. A warp portal to his own apartment, for a more private conversation. Specifically his room, but that's an awkward bridge to cross when he gets to it. The first step is coming in out of the rain. ]

[deadelfwalking]

No--there was no one. For miles. We were in the forest. I don't know if you've met the lady Frost in person, but she stands out.

[his ears fold back in consternation. He made absolutely certain that, in the end, they were not near another living soul. Though this effort had all but sealed his own ungraceful death, he felt it worthwhile and necessary.

The portal's appearance doesn't startle him, but he does glance at it for a moment before the intent registers. Once it does, though, he steps in without hesitation. It probably was best not to keep going on about this in the middle of the street.]

[healplz]

[ Well, Koltira, apparently not!!!! Or the lady Frost is a dirty liar, but that hasn't occurred to him yet. So he keeps his reply in check, really failing to see how this is even up for debate, and steps in after him. He's stepping forward immediately, one hand falling to the small of Koltira's back to guide him toward the door and the living room. ]

Will you take tea, or is that... [ ...something dead guys don't do. kinda lookin at him awkwardly, here. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[whoa, hey, Ashraf's room. You'd better believe Koltira stops for a moment to examine the place, though it's only a moment. After a quick glance around, he allows Ashraf to push him into the common area.]

Hiding something in there, priest? [he shakes his head.] No. No tea. Have you got anything stronger?

[healplz]

[ It's pretty Spartan, actually. Nothing out of place, nothing on top of the drawers that doesn't belong there. And yet he still manages to be faintly embarrassed about the rumpled sheets on his bed (wow, really shoulda smoothed those over better this morning) and a single button-up shirt hanging at the back of the door. ]

There are better places to speak, is all. [ Like this nice, non-personal couch right here. ] I have a bottle of whiskey, but only one. [ not enough to sate someone's monstrous alcoholic appetite, he's sure. ] Will that do?

[deadelfwalking]

[he waves his hand in dismissal as he sits down on said completely neutral couch.]

Leave it. Sit.

[healplz]

[ And just like that, he's lost all interest he'd ever had in tea. Man, what's tea in the face of a newly resurrected friend, whose reasonings for death are still mysterious? So he sits, pulling the chair opposite a little bit closer, the better to watch Koltira's face. He'll need all the facial cues he can get from this generally inscrutable guy, if he's going to be working any of this out. ]

You still have yet to tell me why.

[deadelfwalking]

[He returns Ashraf's gaze, though his fathomless eyes and tight jaw don't betray much. His gloved hands are folded in his lap, and his fingers tighten slightly around each other as another dark flash sparks behind his eyelids, a wisp of recent, terrible memories snaking out to remind him of his experience.

Koltira digs his nails into his palms; the moment passes.]

There is nothing to tell. I did what needed to be done.

[healplz]

[ How could he miss that? From a man as muted as Koltira, any little sign is loud and clear. His own dark eyes flick down to Koltira's hands, back up again to his face.

And as long as they're talking about duty and responsibility... ]

You left an entire populace undefended against an enemy only you knew well.

[deadelfwalking]

I did not. Arthas defeated me, but I have left him severely wounded. I purchased time for a plan.

[his posture is rigid and straight; his tone stubborn. He did the right thing. The needful thing. He may feel guilt at pushing away those who would call themselves friends, particularly Ashraf, but he doesn't regret the fight itself.]

[healplz]

And what plans were we to make without knowing him? You rushed unprepared to battle without a single thought for— 

[ The grimly angered look he'd been building flakes suddenly into disappointment, and he breaks the study to watch the ground. ]

I should have been there.

[deadelfwalking]

Are you upset with me, Ashraf?

[healplz]

No, I...

[ No, that isn't quite the right answer, is it? He pauses, looks back again with a guilty slump to his shoulders, and nods. ]

Forgive me, but there's little avoiding it.

[deadelfwalking]

Because I did not win my battle?

[sigh. this dumbass.]

[healplz]

[ Koltira. Koltira. For a second he just lapses into a look of utter incredulity, before he remembers himself and shakes his head. ]

Because you died, Koltira. I've met few enough noble souls that I can stand to see them slain, and especially not so needlessly. Especially not alone.

[deadelfwalking]

[he shrugs.]

Fortunately, I am not a noble soul. It was of no consequence.

[healplz]

You're ignoring the point!

[ Ugh, he always feels a little disgusted with himself when his temper sparks a yell, and though he makes an effort to bring himself down a little, there's a newly realized glare that isn't going anywhere. ]

And you're mistaken.

[deadelfwalking]

[So much anger over nothing. Over someone who is nothing. He exhales.]

I will not challenge Arthas on my own again.

[healplz]

[ That's exactly what he'd wanted to hear, but it... still manages to feel a little empty. That isn't a victory, or a reconciliation. That's just a sound strategy. The anger drains away again as quickly as it'd built. ]

You will alert me, if you face him again?

[deadelfwalking]

[He looks down at his lap, balls both hands into fists.]

I do not want you to be hurt, Ashraf.

[healplz]

[ More that doesn't escape his notice. ]

Thank you, but it's a needless sentiment. [ He gives a small wave of his hand, and that healing green light envelops him for a moment, complete with a pointedly arched brow. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[FROWN.]

Hardly. You cannot protect against the kind of damage Arthas can do.

[YOU SURE COULDN'T PROTECT AGAINST ME, BROTHER.]