CyberTrixxie's Live Journal

illithidbix, being the wonderfully terrible person that he is, decided to make use of the sudden free time that comes from Easter Holidays and run a tabletop game a few weeks back. White Wolf's OWOD Demon: The Fallen is what fell out of the stack at the other end.

For those of you who don't know, D:TF is like other World of Darkness games, except you actually feel justified in behaving like a wangsty 14 year old or a cheesemonger when you decide to play it. It really needs little introduction (...as if I could resist the opportunity to froth about my favourite tabletop game...ha!) other than to say that PC's are escaped demonic refugees from a very cold, lonely and torment-filled abyss, dropped headfirst into possessing the recently vacated bodies of those who have given up on life (or have been given up on by life, conversely).

So far, so good. The hook that has illithidbix and I drooling is that the whole point of this 'Fall' business is that ol' Morningstar starts his rebellion because he's told to love humanity as he loves God, but in the next breath is told he must *never* reveal himself to them and break their ignorance of all the wonderful things created in their name. Humanity must remain as mindless animals, unable to reach their potential.

This doesn't sit well with the Morningstar, and after some angelic wangst and navel-gazing that matches quite a few Eidolon meetings I've been in attendance of at 'Strom over the years, half the host decides to side with dearest Lucifer and open humanity's eyes to the beautiful things that have been made for them at the Creator's command.

The rest, as they say, is history. There's Michael with his flaming sword, there's centuries of war and monstrous experiments creating half human-half angelic hybrids by Lucifer's host, who very quickly dive headfirst off the moral event horizon and become the demons we all know and love to inappropriately anti-hero-worship. Of course, they lose, and get their tails kicked into hell.

Cut to:

Suddenly, one of these aeons old spirits of unfathomable power, responsible for the construction of the world/life/humanity and then cast into hell for rebelling against the Creator, is torn from their prison and vomited into a very real, living body that makes no bloody sense at all from the inside.

A number of questions are generally raised at this point, somewhere along the lines of:

"I'm free, so why am I not getting my ass handed to me by an army of righteous angels? Where did they all go?"
"Where is Lucifer, and why wasn't the weasly snot sent to rot in the abyss with us?"
"Why did humanity grow up to be a right bunch of bastards?"
and of course:
"Are there any more of us out here?"

So, intro aside, illithidbix set me a deliberately vague writing challenge. And here is the result: (contains: brief mention of suicide, demonic possession, gratuitous self-indulgent wangst)

( It's not every day that you get a second chance. )