New Moon Event - I am Blessed, Blessed to Burn
[CR TIME GO]
"Witch! Sinner! What else could you be with those eyes? That hair? " C.C. is still young then, a newly-made Immortal. The stigmata throbs achingly beneath her breasts and the cold winter chill quakes her to the bone. They dragged her out in a loose shift, yanking fistfuls of her long lime hair and dragging her into the square. She speaks meaningless words, words that mean nothing.
They had barged into that church, throwing rocks at the stained glass window as she struggled to hide, barring the doors. Eventually it all broke apart and they seized her.
Which was where she was now, dragged onto a podium where they curse, hiss. "You were that little brat..you bewitched us! You had them devil eyes...like that nun!" You shame the name of God!" She opens her mouth she knows it is useless. They drag chains and pin her to the stake, jeering, shouting, always shouting---
The priest does a sign against evil against his chest, and pours water over her, the girl crying out, "Please...--" But there is no chance--
Someone lights the stake and C.C. starts screaming , fire licks her toes, crawls up her skin as she screams, tears leaking from her eyes as her body is embraced by the flames.
The crowd watches, chanting 'Witch, Burn the Witch!' and C.C. can only scream and sob until her mouth is singed away...
--
By morning there is a pile of ashes. But from it rises a faint flicker of flesh. The flesh forms a body, toes hands, feet, a glowing symbol on an unformed face until eventually it is C.C., standing against the stake, naked and trembling. She smiles triumphantly. She isn't cursed, she is blessed she is chosen!
--
Memories and eras, centuries pass by, and C.C. is not blessed. She burns a second time, a third time. They come up with new ways to kill her. Guillotine. C.C. watches with weary experience as it closes in on her neck, lime hair floating in the air..
She'll wake up and face another ending.
--
Iron Maiden, closes in on all her flesh with a splash of blood.
--
Centuries go by and these are only examples. C.C. with weary eyes watches them like a floating reel of film in a white world, the witch touching each memory of her deaths until they are so frequent that they blur. She doesn't bat an eyelash at them anymore.
But they still hurt.
That first time---
She burns , until she is a skeleton, mouth torn away--is that Lelouch in the crowd---no this is the Dark Ages...he could---why is she reliving this again?
----
[C.C. tosses and turns in her sleep, trembling cold and barren, empty, screaming loudly. You'll feel indescribable pain for a moment, then pure exhaustion as the centuries go by. Then you'll burn again.
C.C. tosses again, reaching out blindly, drenched in sweat even though she is freezing]
--
Stop it! Y-You're unveiling me!!!!
No---p-please...no....
[wakes up shaking cold]
"Witch! Sinner! What else could you be with those eyes? That hair? " C.C. is still young then, a newly-made Immortal. The stigmata throbs achingly beneath her breasts and the cold winter chill quakes her to the bone. They dragged her out in a loose shift, yanking fistfuls of her long lime hair and dragging her into the square. She speaks meaningless words, words that mean nothing.
They had barged into that church, throwing rocks at the stained glass window as she struggled to hide, barring the doors. Eventually it all broke apart and they seized her.
Which was where she was now, dragged onto a podium where they curse, hiss. "You were that little brat..you bewitched us! You had them devil eyes...like that nun!" You shame the name of God!" She opens her mouth she knows it is useless. They drag chains and pin her to the stake, jeering, shouting, always shouting---
The priest does a sign against evil against his chest, and pours water over her, the girl crying out, "Please...--" But there is no chance--
Someone lights the stake and C.C. starts screaming , fire licks her toes, crawls up her skin as she screams, tears leaking from her eyes as her body is embraced by the flames.
The crowd watches, chanting 'Witch, Burn the Witch!' and C.C. can only scream and sob until her mouth is singed away...
--
By morning there is a pile of ashes. But from it rises a faint flicker of flesh. The flesh forms a body, toes hands, feet, a glowing symbol on an unformed face until eventually it is C.C., standing against the stake, naked and trembling. She smiles triumphantly. She isn't cursed, she is blessed she is chosen!
--
Memories and eras, centuries pass by, and C.C. is not blessed. She burns a second time, a third time. They come up with new ways to kill her. Guillotine. C.C. watches with weary experience as it closes in on her neck, lime hair floating in the air..
She'll wake up and face another ending.
--
Iron Maiden, closes in on all her flesh with a splash of blood.
--
Centuries go by and these are only examples. C.C. with weary eyes watches them like a floating reel of film in a white world, the witch touching each memory of her deaths until they are so frequent that they blur. She doesn't bat an eyelash at them anymore.
But they still hurt.
That first time---
She burns , until she is a skeleton, mouth torn away--is that Lelouch in the crowd---no this is the Dark Ages...he could---why is she reliving this again?
----
[C.C. tosses and turns in her sleep, trembling cold and barren, empty, screaming loudly. You'll feel indescribable pain for a moment, then pure exhaustion as the centuries go by. Then you'll burn again.
C.C. tosses again, reaching out blindly, drenched in sweat even though she is freezing]
--
Stop it! Y-You're unveiling me!!!!
No---p-please...no....
[wakes up shaking cold]