Sass and Necromancy

  Adela Quintana || 19 || Asteria

[leadmeoceansaway]

death comes to feast || adela&oberon

[adela-quintana]

leadmeoceansaway :

“Which is why I haven’t said otherwise either,” he easily replied and smiled with amusement at the interest the young woman showed towards the corpses. Would it be so deep if she had indeed put up the scene? He would think whoever did it, wished to prove a point or make a statement, and such things are more easily appreciated from affar. The girl was surely far from being just a regular villager, but he doubted she was the author of the slaughter. 

“If it’s yours,” he pondered, still not convinced, but excited about the possible exchange of ideas. “What is it for? To delimit your home? To confine us?” 

Perhaps that was it and he truly was the one on the wrong side. His thoughts brought up his family, and shivers went down his spine at the risk of keeping his wife and son exposed to danger. But they couldn’t just leave. His eyes looked at the girl and the dead body she was so carefully examining. 

“Are you a healer, or something alike?” 

She laughed, it was far too intricate and well done to be her handiwork, chances were she’d finish positioning the first body and then decide that raising already dead up and lining the way would be easier...if she bothered at all.  She stood up from her crouch, accentuating everything she was already displaying with her naturally sly and cruel disposition. “To shock you into wanting to know more. It’s like one of those horrid scenes, you want to look away.” she said moving her foot along the outside of each of their arms. She knew it was pointing North, but this was thought out and precise, she would need something more. With her foot prints marking the exact way she smirked. “But even a fair maiden, with her hands in front of her eyes would peak through to see the horrors.” 

She looked at the attributes of the people that lay in front of her, it was not clear if they were from the kingdom or the wildling settlements, again, intentional. It would be easier just to raise them and have them lead them her to where they were. But he was here and as much as his face was beautiful, the rest of his personality meant that it was quickly losing it’s charm. As soon as she performed her tricks in front of him he would know she was accountable for the acts in the Keep. She sat down next to the least savaged one, leaning down she placed her hand on his chest.  “His bag is cut.” she said her hand sliding into his vest, letting her be exposed to bare skin. “Start helping and see if anything was dropped around here.” she said, if she could get a minute alone with the corpse she would be able to figure out more information that the hours they would be pointlessly scouring further into the forest.

[leadmeoceansaway]

death comes to feast || adela&oberon

[adela-quintana]

leadmeoceansaway :

πρόμοιρος (promoiros) before the destined term, i.e. untimely, of death, of persons, doomed to untimely death | for inspiration, listen here                                                                                                   They are not even far into the woods. In the very space where civilization turns wild, the crossroads between here and there, a line of bodies are laid along the main roads. Duty brings Oberon here; curiosity brings Adela ( @adela-quintana ). The pair run across each other in the wake of nearly a dozen corpses, each splayed with arms wide and each facing north. Neither have any idea what such a sign could mean, but they seem to mark a barrier — a barrier for what, they could not say.

Unconsciously, Oberon tightened the grip on his sheathed sword as he stared at the bodies displayed along the road. His lips thinned and he softly shook his head, not understanding what was doing such a thing. The point of it was clear, it was a limit. That left the Free Folk out of the question. On the other side, Holden would never command something alike. The Argos were capable, but to do such a thing was far from wise, and that family could be many things, except foolish. His mind kept narrowing the options, though his eyes began to examine the surroundings. His only company was a young woman wandering on the other side of the hideous line. The habit of smiling at adversity made his grim expression soften into a clever smirk. 

“Which do you think is the wrong side?” he reflected out loud, attently looking at her. 

She had come to the scene, the chaos that was becoming the world both frightened and excited her. Never had she had such a playground where she hadn’t had part of the control, never, since before this life had she felt such a hopelessness. Despite her slight and half-hearted efforts to refrain from feeling like she was playing god, the cruel and sadistic question still plagued her thoughts. If she ever got killed, would she be able to bring herself back. When you cut her, she bled, when she grew hungry, she starved, this she had known since the young childhood of this body. But in all these situations, after all the shit she pulled, she still remained breathing, almost invincible. The sensation wasn’t odd considering her age and her larger-than-life disposition, but it was there none the less.

Her eyes glazed over the gore-y scene. Her eyes lingering as she bit her lower lip in a smirk that could send chills down someones spine, almost a childlike glee at the new and for once thought out mystery. She looked up, her eyes filled with excitement at what her curiosity led her to. “I would say me, for you do not know that I myself did not put up this barrier.” she said as she slowly squatted down, tracing the dead lips of one of the men, his glazed over and almost white eyes captivating her. 

[adela-quintana]

elpisxelysia :

         “Adela…” Elysia frowned at the other woman. “It is never the answer, and you know it. You shouldn’t think so lightly of taking lives.” The witch knelt down next to the unconscious man. “What about a spell that activates only when he considers telling anyone anything? An ear-splitting headache, or something. It will be so horrible he will never consider telling anyone anything, ever again.”

“Elysia” she copied and mocked, not much different to a child taunting her peers in the playground. “Jesus fucking Christ, you act like having this power means that we should be permanent wet blankets. Live a little, have some fun, accept that we are greater than them, that we should take the place the world has offered us as beings that can rule the fucking world. Not worrying about moral issues. I mean he’s not even attractive or smart or funny, what value does he add to this world?” 

[adela-quintana]

melinoesmedicines :

“Yes, the world has a tendency to be self-destructive, but at this point I simply stopped caring.”

“Seems risky, you don’t hold your ground well enough in this shit show and your lack of cares turn into the world forgetting you.” 

[adela-quintana]

elpisxelysia :

            “Because turning people into toads is nearly as bad as killing them!” Elysia exclaimed, eyes wide. “Adela, please, I can just fix him something that will erase his memories of us and we can leave him be.”

“Pah-tato, Poh-tato. No matter what he does he’s going to wake up, not know what he did last night and unlike those popular idiots he can’t blame it on being too drunk to function, plus I’m sure there’s already weirdos that would be willing to listen to even this one. We have to make sure we leave no trail and the best way is to kill the footsteps where they stand.”

[adela-quintana]

“If you’re insisting we don’t kill him why don’t we just turn him into a toad and let the animal kingdom go about on it’s natural course. He’s already as sweaty as one and I doubt anyone’s going to be looking for someone whose clearly hopping mad.” 

[adela-quintana]

She looked out to a city on the brink of chaos once again. “And everyone thought I would be the end of the world. Turns out the world fucks itself up even without intervention but it is a lot less fun to watch when you’re not as close to the drama.” 

[adela-quintana]

celinereece :

Celine hummed softly to herself as she sat on the ramparts of the long-since invaded Lion’s Keep. The edge of the city, silent as midnight in the middle of high noon. The bodies had been dealt with—a lot of crying had been involved—and she’d sent a prayer for good winds to come in. And come they had, sweeping away the stench of death, though there wasn’t much that could be done about the bloodstains still on the ground. Shame, that. 

The witch stopped swinging her legs when she saw someone approach where she was sitting from down below, a smile spreading over her lips. She gripped the stone edge of the wall she sat on, leaning down to address them. “Fine day, aye?” 

She had followed the humming, the sound had enraptured her, the happy tune after the night filled with terror and loss. It almost caused her to smile. She walked until she found the source, looking up towards the stone edge of the wall. “Aren’t you a little old for such an activity? if you’re not careful you’ll fall right off and break your back. I am not exactly an expert on human reaction but it would dampen our fine day.” 

[adela-quintana]

phyllisbalor :

Asteria inevitably stepped back, as Phyllis had expected. And yet she hadn’t let go; her fingers were still gentle around Phyllis’ wrist. Phyllis’ heart beat so fast with sudden hope that she was certain Asteria could hear it. It sputtered when Asteria spoke again, her hope replaced by the kind of rage Phyllis only unleashed when harm was done to those she loved. “It is important,” she bit out. She only hesitated a moment before she reached for Asteria’s hand, holding it so lightly in hers that her daughter could easily pull away if she wished it. “You are always important. I would raze this damned city to the ground, scour the entire world itself, if it would keep you safe, Ast- Adela. You are important. Tell me, please. Who hurt you?”

She stepped back, moving out of her mothers grasp entirely, her head began to shake, her hands trembling to match. She hid them behind her dress quickly, her eyebrows furrowing. “No-” she began, it was barely a shaking whisper. “I can’t do this again-I can’t depend on you-either of you.” she said, her hands moving up, running through her hair, nails to her scalp as she did. “I cannot do this and lose you again. I cannot watch you destroy yourselves in another war, to the same fucking gods again. This life has been hard enough but for this-” she said, not sure why her feet would not let her leave. She wanted to run. She wanted to run for as long and as far as she could.

[adela-quintana]

coeusxcoleman :

                                 “Asteria.”

                Her name was a snap, a crack of the whip that slashed right through her words. It was the stern voice of a father—a tone he hadn’t used in so long that it had grown rusty. A tone he had never needed before, in this life. There was still warmth in his eyes, but it was reserved. “You speak as if we actively decided not to have you. As if we pushed you out of our family, dropped you off at someone’s doorstep in the dead of night and left you without another care. Did your mother and me not show enough love for you in our past life to make you believe that? Weren’t we with you at every step of the way?” The questions were rhetorical. His eyes were ablaze, though his voice remained soft. “Do not think that we didn’t try—that we did not want you, you and Leto both. It nearly killed us—it nearly killed her. I nearly lost her—” his voice broke off abruptly and he looked away. All he could see was blood and blood and blood, and his ears rang with the memories of screams, the same screams that consumed the dreams that didn’t consist of his suffering in Tartarus.

               After a long pause, Coleman parted his lips again. “You can still make us proud, little star.” The old nickname burned on his tongue.

               Coleman didn’t comment on the reflection of tears that he spotted in Adela’s eyes—before she went to wipe them away, not so discreetly. Instead, he patted her hand with his free one and pulled her along, down one of the lesser used garden paths. “It just won’t settle down, it seems.”

The name was old, the tone sent shivers down her spine. She felt herself stepping back and...being quiet. A hold which she remembered from when she was young, when she and her sister had gotten too rough. 

She had done her first life perfectly. She had listened to their rules, become kind, become gentle, been something of a Titan did not know of. She remembered the visions, the feeling of fear, the feeling of premonition. She remembered how it scared her, how it held her back. How she had waited for her parents to come home, to protect her. 

But it had been too late. The Olympians had won the war before she had time to see that her nightmare was no longer a dream but a reality. As everyone she knew got locked in such a desolate and unforgiving place. As Zeus had spotted her, admired her beauty and decided it like the Titans would fall down to his will. She remembered running, she remembered the feeling of her heart beating, like a drumming in her ears. She remembered the fear coursing through her, disabling her from fighting. She remembered wanting to take any chance to get her out and in doing so- she became an island. Away from everyones view, in isolation, beating at the heart of the place, waves pushing against her, providing for all those who managed to lose themselves so much so that she never believed they deserved such a life.

She had been kind, she had given, she had done what was meant to be done and in return she was brought into this life as slum. 

She did not speak, instead holding onto his arm, face daring her to break, but she would not. Everything she did, the careless bravado, the lack of care for the threats of others. She wished she was born with it, but the mess of the monster that lurked in the shadows of her mind were all created. 

[adela-quintana]

apreludetotragedy :

Her words caught him off-guard, and he lost balance as he stood up to bow in respect. He only bowed his head, though, when she said she was no lady. She surprised him once again with such a question. “Oh,” he gave her a curious look, yet he couldn’t hide some hints of sadness escaping from his eyes. “M-my wife.” 

The minstrel wondered why she was asking, and why he answered so easily. Was he so eager to talk about his wife to someone? Since the Gods wouldn’t listen, he thought, he could trust his story to a stranger. What damage was she going to cause? What he could lose, he had already lost. For all he knew, anyway, she could be an angel sent by the Gods. Strange-looking, but he had never seen one to know what they would look like. 

“My deceased wife,” he continued, giving a long blink and letting out a heavy sigh, and continued with a cheeky, yet weak smile. “Why such curiosity? Are you an emissary of the Gods?”

“Y-your-” she started, moving closer, raisisng her chin almost elegantly as she did. “No need to stutter, you are with a friend.” she said, using the term lightly. She wondeed whether she could call any a real friend. She had her lovers, her loved-up followers, she had providers and she had protectors, she even had a cripple higher than most pesants could ever be. But as she lay down at the end of the night, as she was forced to shut down for five entire minutes before sleeps sweet embrace, the lies would leave her, the manipulation, the ever changing personalities, some of which she knew she would never keep trap of. In these small moments of time she was faced with her own realities. A lost girl, begging for something more. 

She took a deep breath in, forcing herself to recognize the situation she was in, forcing herself to pretend to care. “Deceased” She mulled over, momentarily, not sure of what exactly she was to do with it-but then his spark of belief, the ease in which he would give himself and his beliefs away, it fueled her careless, hartless need for distraction and in that moment she could say nothing else but “yes”. A gleam in her eye as she closed the distance, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Whispers have summoned me here, songs of such beautiful sadness. I am sent by the gods, both to thank and relieve you from such lyrics and tones-” she said, nodding with her false angelic voice as she tried not to break due to the bullshit she was once again spewing.  

[adela-quintana]

minalariviere :

She laughed cheerfully at the other’s statement, though any trace of amusement vanished from her expression when the girl numbered the Balor boys and their main qualities. Mina raised an eyebrow and gave a half smile when Adela finished her listing, quite content of not having to draw lines for the young witch not to cross. “Fun. You forget you’re also fun, why on earth would I send you far from me? And I didn’t mean you, little witch,” she said, playfully poking Adela’s abdomen with her index finger. “The vows priestesses choose to take, come from an ill obsession for the Gods. Do you think Cronus cares about how much goat blood you spill in his name? He cares for only one thing.” The older witch looked sideways at the other. “Revenge,” she whispered, though they both knew it was no secret. “I do wonder, why would He place you in such an unfortunate position? Why did he let you do what you did?” It seemed as if Mina asked directly to Cronus, through Adela’s eyes. The God had looked away while she played with life and death. Medusa hadn’t yet forgiven either of them, though she still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She couldn’t help but let her jaw drop lightly, moving closer, not caring about how stone cold her face went, though perhaps it wasn’t Medusa’s face she should be worried about, again a little chuckle and a shit eating grin took over Adela’s composure. “Is Mina Larivere, holder of bames that shall not be spoken, admitting she cares for me? Little old, good for nothing, shit for morals, gold digging me?” she said with almost a coo before grabbing the girls index finger, tracing it ever so lightly before returning it. “I am ever so flattered.” she said, a sultry tone slipping through before she gave up the act. “Ah, all you titans, hell bent on creating hell on this newly formed world. I get it, I honestly do, a little chaos here, a few screams there, pretty faces of pampered princesses burning on a skewer-I mean, assuming that’s your main instentive considering ...everything.” she said, not even hiding the pointed reference to the strong hatred that brewed between the cursed out lonely soul and the constantly praised Athena. 

“But the truth is I know Cronus. In these years worth of dwelling, of standing on the cusp of death and general irrelevance, I have had nothing but time to ponder. The great lord who gave you all titles and skills saw me as neither an ally or an enemy, not as convicted as my cousins, not as unreasonably loved as the Olympians. 

No, you forget that in this story and the last there always has to be...others. Those of us who chose no side, who held no stance and will therefore be treated accordingly. We were never meant to be in your war. We were meant to pave the way for your motives and when time comes, after we’ve used our powers for some kind of distraction he will let us be what we were intended for. We will be the casualties. No reason to worry about wildlings or pesant riots. When the time comes history will repeat itself. Titans and Olympians collide.”

“Until that day I shall laugh, fuck and scream, make as much of a mess in the name of living before I am used as some sort of pawn all over again.” 

[adela-quintana]

casonirvine :

“Well…yes. You’ve described me in magnificent detail, and I wouldn’t take back a single bit of what you’ve said. I’m also thoroughly enjoying the possibility of you falling madly in love with me — stone faced, doesn’t-feel-a-thing Adela, raiser of the dead who lost her heart to one of her ghosts. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” He actively recognized that he was far beyond pushing his luck, but he couldn’t quite help it. Every time she said his name, it was a ridiculous thrill down his spine. ( As, clearly, the only one affected by this was her. ) “My confidence that you would resurrect me again will surely be the death of me, but as I don’t plan on dying anytime soon, we’ll never have to find out.” 

“Love?! Love?“ she couldn’t help the loud laugh that left her lips. “You do not love me, you love the idea of being challenged by someone that doesn’t fall for your charm. What they see in your show I cannot understand but what you see in mine-” she was so close to admitting a small amount of modesty, instead she looked in front of her, right beyond his shoulder, his instense eye contact holding a different appreciation than she was used to, was this what happened if the dead rose for too long? why hadn’t Zion come to follow her once again. “You may die sooner than you think, from what I have heard about of your first it was not exactly intentional either.” 

[adela-quintana]

coeusxcoleman :

              Coleman narrowed his eyes just a bit at her sarcastic tone. “If we had even an inkling of an idea that you existed—that you were out there, we… I would have searched for you to the ends of the realm. You—,” he abruptly cut himself off and forced his anger down, down and down. He wasn’t about to go and lose his grip on his temper just because Adela didn’t understand what hell Phyllis and he had gone through, not knowing where their children were. 

             A flash, he remembered the blood. So much blood… The heartbreak when they found out they weren’t meant to have children, the questions this knowledge left unanswered. One of the answers now stood right before his eyes, and he could feel her anger oozing through every word she said. He drew in a breath. “She was mad at me quite a lot, when we were children.” Before they’d known who the other was – or who exactly they were, themselves. He remembered the games they played, the innocent laughs they’d shared. He sometimes longed to have that simpleness back – but only sometimes.

             “I’m not ashamed of you, if that is what you are implying,” Cole said, his arm still raised for her to take, his expression remaining the same. “You remind me of myself, when I was younger. Always snappy, always angry.” He hadn’t changed much, aside from the fact that he’d learned to direct his anger to more useful causes.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she said, almost incredulously. She had complained before, shown anger, shown betrayal, but had she ever spoken the words. No not to her mother, her mother would break, she was cunning, strong but when it came to her own blood. She could see the emotions running through her as if her mouth and eyes were the spouts of fountains and her...the most graceful statue. 

“Iapteus’ did.” the ancient names rolled off her tongue so naturally. “Atlas, Paxton, Menoetius I can understand. But when Epmethius sits so comfortably, well fed, provided as much as he could-” something was rising in her throat, anger, passion-oh no, there it was, jealousy of the sweaty excuse of a man. Her voice began to quiver and she so wished she could clear it. “ I would have been great. I could have made you both proud- made Cronus proud. But instead-”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, rubbing her eyes with her sleeves before rolling them. “Damn debris dust-” she muttered, taking a  moment before taking his arm finally. 

[adela-quintana]

thaddeusthornton :

A broad palmed spanned the curve of her waist, thumb pressing through the fabric of the gown he donned her in. Perfect—truly, even when something wistful and longing touched her eyes. He wanted that fire he’d seen in the streets, the scrap of a woman who demanded to be heard. ( but this he would take, if only for a moment. ) His words paused at a flash of subtle understanding when she spoke of Mina. Stone … Surely … Typhon eyed her quizzically. “She’s always reminded me of a serpent coiled for a strike,” He ventured. “I would hate to be on the receiving end of her glare.”

He grinned, toothy and without a trace of warmth. “Should’ve seen me in my youth, I suppose. Years in the Stormlands can strengthen a body even as it ages it so.” Typhon would always prefer his prior form, and just thinking of the strength ripped from his form was infuriating. His fingers pressed harder, tight, tight, tight before he remembered himself. Without a word, he released. “We will have more wine,” Typhon said abruptly, standing before striding quickly to the flagon.

Her smirk retutrned, any sign of weakness vanquished with the thrill of their knew game, a light returned to her eyes as she tilted her head, pushing her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she did. “A stare that would freeze even the most powerful in their place, too petrified to ever move, not even blink.” she said a small giggle escaping as she started to close the space between them.

About to sit she on top of him she found her teeth going to her bottom lip, tracing the worn face with her thumb as she did. She would have liked to see that, though there were many things she had missed in this form. As his hands started to push into her, her face changed, a small gasp escpaing her lips as her breath began to struggle. She became stoic, her eyes closing, not entirely expecting him to release.

She took a moment, hand going to her chest as she stepped back. “Excuse me-” she said, unable to stop herself, a man twice her size with obvious strength, her courage should have been shattered, she should have stopped. “What the fuck was that.”

[adela-quintana]

phyllisbalor :

Phyllis briefly held her breath at the sensation of Asteria’s fingers on her wrist. Any moment now, she was sure, Asteria would pull away. Phyllis did not dare cling to her, did not dare break this fragile trust Asteria had displayed in coming to her. She did not grasp Asteria’s hand in hers, no matter how much she wanted to. In fact, she did not move at all. “Who hurt you?” she asked lowly, tone carefully matter-of-fact and free from pity even as her mouth had gone dry.

She stepped back lightly, though her hand had still not left her mothers arm. What was this growing affection, the slight spark of longing, the want to been seen as someone more than just a toy. She despised it, especially since she had swore not to see anyone else as the same. This was the world they had put her in, an obvious place, a lack of importance. So she had crashed their world, caused chaos and harm, not cared. They had never given her any more than that. “No one of importance. It never is.” she said finally retracting her hand. 

[adela-quintana]

phyllisbalor :

Phyllis stilled. She had to press her lips together to keep from crying out that she had never been one of them, that even centuries separated from her husband and surrounded by those who’d gloried in her family’s downfall had not - would never have - broken her loyalty. That the eons of her imprisonment had passed and her grief had encased her in a shell of immovable stone and still Phyllis had held that glowing ember of love in her heart, the determination that behind her placid mask of obedience she would always, always remain a Titaness. (And Zeus had dared name her being spared from Tartarus a mercy, damn him.)

But that was not what Asteria was speaking of. It was not the accusation of treason which Phyllis sometimes still feared awaited her that had slipped from her daughter’s tongue. Asteria’s concerns were of a more mortal nature. “Hm. No, I was not,” she said, tone carefully neutral. After a last, indulgent fiddling with the laces, Phyllis stepped back. “In this life, I grew up in a smithy, with five older brothers. One gets fond of… a certain coarseness.” She missed it. Sometimes.

She considered what her mother was saying, her hand guiding down her back, lingering on her mothers wrist lightly, she wasn’t asking for her to stay but perhaps she was letting the moment continue without her snappy remarks, nor her salty attitude. It was a defense mechanism, it always had been, but had it become so engrained that it had become a level of sociopath that she wondered whether she would ever...break out of. She was tired, she was scared but she would never let anyone see her like that, see her weak. She had been that vulnerable in both this life and the last and it had brought her nothing but cold isolation.