Crusade inc.

[chainrender]

duskblade:

At this, she stopped immediately and stared at the long space in front of them. Micah butted his head into her hand and she petted him gently as she thought.

“You’re right.” Myrina said after a long pause, blinking slowly and turning to look at him, “You’re right. They are normally deemed untrustworthy, and yet I can find it within myself to trust them.” After she said it she realized that was a partial lie. She trusted them when it came to their feelings for Eulalia but she had no real reason to trust them outside of that.

Deciding that keeping this to herself was useless–since he had already looked into her mind  and would know what she felt—she continued on with her speech.

“Since I trust them with so little reason to do so…well, then I’ll choose to trust you.” With that said she continued on the current path. At his question she shrugged.

“I simply wonder what your human friends were like and why you chose to be friends with them. Though were they really friends? Did you mourn their deaths?”

“So easily? How strange.” He said with a chuckle of contentment. She struck him as an odd duck when it came to personality, but that was strange enough for him to hold interest. The woman acted on her own accord more often than not, but the others were too blind to recognize her worth. In his eyes, however, he saw great power, if he could temper it right...

“Hm. Apt questions. I suppose that’s up to perception. Very rarely have I ever actually revealed whom I was until they grew suspicious. There were time where I considered them friends, and they did the same. But those days were quiet, and I acted like a normal human, marveling at what humanity was willing to do for the sake of progress. It wasn’t until recently that I’ve become more...active in my true self.”

There was a slight sigh at the end of his explanation. “And the end result was always the same once I’ve shown them who I was. The reality of my existence is not something many can handle.”

[chainrender]

duskblade:

Her exasperated expression only deepened at his response. Somehow she knew he would look at it that way. Myrina knew that it would be hard for him to see it her way but for the sake of keeping things from being awkwardly silent, she continued.

“Alright.” Myrina stopped then to turn and look at him, obviously tired at the thought of having to explain it. So then why was she? Even she didn’t know herself. Hands set on her hips as she began to explain.

“You did all of the things you say, and instigating a fight between Torven and Arancel aside–this does not mean that trust is automatically given. If anything causing that fight derailed any possible trust…” She muttered the last under her breathe a little. “More than that, the air you give off is not one of trustworthiness. Wait, do you want us to trust you? Why?”

Somehow she wasn’t surprised at his response either….”So you did have human friends.  Hmm, interesting…” her hand curled around her chin slightly, and she turned on her heel and continued to walk on towards Trocuria. It seemed she would give no indication on what she was thinking without being asked first.

“I believe you’re thinking of it a little too hard. This is not a matter of concern for myself, so you may relax. This is simple curiosity, a query of where the line is drawn for the ‘trustworthiness’ of individuals as deemed by a group of murderers, thieves, and assassins, those who would normally be deemed ‘untrustworthy’. Hypocritical or not, such fallible judgement is what entertains me about mortals, amongst other traits. ”

The smile on his face did not lessen an iota, as though observing Myrina’s speech like a moderately entertaining show. She spoke to him as though he was entirely unused to human culture, when in truth, it was likely he had more knowledge on their nature than she did. However, due to his distance from it all, instead of taking it to heart, he analyzed it as though discussing a work of art.

And of course, he would follow after her, for that’s what he would do even if the conversation wasn’t going on. He waited a few moments for her to speak, but with no such thing coming, he was quick to begin as well.

“Oh, gauging my interest in continuing the conversation? Or perhaps you feel like a child and don’t want to intrude on my time without me engaging first? I doubt I’ve angered you, for you do not seem nearly as attached to this group as you are to Eulalia. In any case, a coin for your thoughts, Lady Myrahel?”

[chainrender]

duskblade:

There was a pause after his question, a palpable one as she thought carefully about her answer. However, if he had looked into her that closely there was probably reason to believe he’d know if she was lying. At this, she decided being honest was the best choice.

“You’ve given me very little reason to trust you and even more to not trust you. I don’t much care about moral high ground, and it isn’t fear either…if you wanted to kill any of us you obviously could have at any time.” Her expression changed to that of a flat, exasperated one at the very thought of it.

“Do you have no friends?” She asked suddenly, glancing to the side at him.

“Oh? Have I not done everything that I said I would? I helped your queen, and I helped your cause. The only time I impeded your progress was when I was exacting my end of a bargain. The fool asked me to find his bag and I did. Then I played with them for a bit, as I earned. A simple little exchange between two who are very clearly only working together out of necessity.”

A haphazard shrug in simple frustration. To him it was the simplest equation, so why did they have such difficulty understanding it? It wasn’t science, it was simple business. But his thoughts were dragged off their train as her next question actually managed to catch him off guard.

“Huh. That is a truly honest question that I haven’t heard in some time. Well, no honestly. Most of my kind are self-serving and thus only heed me when they have need of me. In the hierarchy of Gods of the Far Realm, I am the third in power. The First, Azathoth, is in a constant state of slumber. Not much of a conversationalist. The second, Yog-Sothoth, whom you’ve met, is hardly one to converse with others either. Any humans I’ve befriended have met predictable ends.”

[chainrender]

ominousvoice:

“…I should’ve known that you and I would never see eye to eye. For someone who freely enters the minds of others and manipulates them to his own ends, you’re surprisingly sensitive about others doing the same to you. The typical hypocrisy of Gods, I suppose.”

He stands facing the starlight still, fingers idly plucking at strings that only he can see and feel, producing music only he can hear. The symphony of the cosmos, the music of reality…nothing was more beautiful or soothing.

“You’re not special, you know. You’re just another person that has no faith in them, in their abilities, or their feelings. Other ‘gods’ may live as mortals, but there must always be a throne and one who is seated in it. Even if they don’t act, the very act of their existence must be upheld. The ‘paradigm’ I uphold is existence, that is all. I don’t give half a damn if mortals raise themselves up….no, in fact I welcome it. But if Gods wish to live as mortals, they will do it as mortals, and they will leave their power within their godly shell.”

“And let me make one thing clear, Nyarlathotep. My name is ‘Leos’. You aren’t someone that I’ll allow to speak to me so casually. We are not friends, not equals, and I have no need nor desire for your condolences nor your sympathy.”

He allows the full power of his existence to fill the space around him, to surround Nyarlathotep. The full power of all of creation and destruction fills the imaginary space, the stars in the distance flaring brighter as he turns to face the arrogant Elder God.

“Perhaps it’s because you only hold the power of the End in your hands….but that’s all you can see or care about. I pity you for it. You are so short sighted that you fail to realize what lies beyond the end of something, that the end of one world can simply lead into the birth of another. These are the things I see, the infinite expanse of eternity, the sway and swell of the currents that are time, space, and reality.”

He releases the power, the stars dimming in the sky behind him as he stares down at Nyarlathotep.

“You can not, and will not, ever understand me, Destroyer. Don’t ever presume that you do. Now….get out.”

“Do not PRESUME you know me, BOY. I do only what is asked of me, what people desire to grant by me and then I take a price. Everything in equivalency, the most honest exchange between gods and men one can hope to achieve. You sit on your throne above them and then profess to know them, to understand them. How can you EVER hope to understand from such a lofty place of power.The arrogance of it is sickening.”

“You pathetic troglodyte, you pretend to try and remedy the error of your fathers ways and yet PERSIST in creating his same mistakes. Damn the throne of the Gods, and its hierarchy. Damn the misguided belief that we must be caretakers in a world that we could thrive in as equals. And Damn YOU, Leos for spitting in the face of the change you could have created.”

An explosive force emitted from Nyarlathotep, the violent power of the Apocalypse contending with the Creator’s strength to fill the space around them. It was a resolute force, but even he knew such an encounter would end poorly for him. He was but one half of the equation, whereas the boy before him was the answer itself. Traces of his more monstrous visage nearly slipped by the facade, the mask of rage on his face twisting his humans features to their limits. However, as the power was silenced, so was his.

“Gladly. Good riddance, brat.”

[chainrender]

ominousvoice:

“For the record, ‘Simon’, I don’t care if you find me boring, nor what comparisons you draw between my father and I.”

He rises from his chair, dismissing it and the desk with a snap and returning them to ethereal dust. As if conducting a symphony, he spins the dust through the air before, with a sweep of his hands, casting it to the sky and filling the night with countless new stars.

“There. The deal is sealed in starlight, and will last until those stars go out. We’ll meet again when that happens to renegotiate…and if you’ve abided by the deal with no problems, we can talk about lessening your restrictions.”

He sighs quietly, bringing a hand up to brush hair away from his eyes. Another motion allows the ponytail at the back of his head to fall loose and he conjures a comb through it to straighten out the tangles.

“I am not my father, Nyarlathotep. I have no interest in flaunting or abusing my power. Absolute power, as your mind so eloquently put it, is frankly…boring. And tiring. So please…don’t give me any more work than I already have….and….”

“Be good to them. The family that chose me.”

Annoyance was clear on his face now, as it became obvious that the Second was reading his mind without so much as a warning. Distaste was evident as he rose from his seat, keeping his thoughts clear, but his anger persistent on the currently human features he had.

“Well, if you’re going to be so rude as to intrude upon my mind, then I might as well speak it regardless.”

“You’re a farce, Leos. A God that no one has any faith in. Were it not for your impeccable pedigree, you would be in a situation very similar to your friend, Kaathion, having to work your way out of the dirt of obscurity. What’s more, your fallacy of the Gods place in all things remains just as outdated as ever before. You and the Gods of this realm just don’t seem to realize it yet.”

“Wake up, boy. You’ve lived in the dark for too long, suffocated by beliefs that need not be continued. Gods can live like mortals, mortals like divine beings.The paradigm of power you’re enforcing is a relic. Give it up, and recognize what the world could truly be. Or don’t, and entertain your archaic ideals until the inevitable destruction of those you hold dear comes to pass.”

“You have naught my condolences, nor my sympathy, when the end of their world takes them from you forever.”

[chainrender]

ominousvoice:

…well this was something he had hoped to avoid. This space was somewhere he had created for himself, and for those he cared for, the ones who had raised him into the man he was now. For this being to be there….

“Let’s make this clear from the word go: This world has rules. Rules that even I am bound by. I am not my father. I will not bypass the rules, nor allow others to do so.”

He gives a wave of his hand, the very stardust of the universe’s birth forming into a chair and desk, and even forming a true chair beneath the Destroyer that now sat across from him.

“First: Limit your use of powers that go beyond the scope of this world. Even my own have the possibility of ripping reality, so I’d rather not give any more entry points to…well, your kind, if you’ll pardon my wording.”

“Second: You are free to observe as you wish, but limit your direct involvement. This isn’t a world of Gods, this is a world of mortals. Their history should be shaped by their hands. The time of Gods creating history has passed.”

“Third: No more playing people against each other. Conflicts come to a head on their own, and there’s more than enough conflict in this world without you pushing people towards it.”

“….Fourth, and final: If you break any of these rules, or try to find a loophole in them to abuse the privilege of entry into this world that you’ve been given by my family….you go back. Either willingly, or by my hand, and you will be forever barred from leaving the Far Realm.”

His eyes glow momentarily with his full power, the oppressive force of the absolute god, the Second, filling the whole of extra-dimensional space. It’s a brief moment, but it’s a pure show of force and willingness to use it.

“If you can abide by those rules, you and I will have no problems.”

Well, this was already mind numbingly boring. At the very least, Eslo had some class, some style to him. This boy lacked both. He may have all the power of a Creator to him, but he had none of the finesse that made Eslo enjoyable to be around. And now, as he went on like some sort of cosmic parole officer, he couldn’t help but miss him more.

“I’m not new to this, Leos. Just because you’re a spring chicken in your position does not mean the same for me. The only reason I’ve ever even had to play with Eslo before was for sheer enjoyment. I’ve been able to stride in and out of this world before without issue and without leaving a real mess. Why? Because I knew my limitations and the limitations of my subjects. There’s no enjoyment in breaking them.”

He leaned back in his chair, unamused and uncaring of the Second’s threat. Of course he had to accept this request, lest he be thrown out before he could truly enjoy the company of the party. But needless to say, there were some idle daydreams splashing about of what he would do with the power of the Creator. But, he snuffed them out as quickly as they came. Complete and absolute dominion over all things...nothing could be so boring.

“As I said before, I already accept these rules. Is there anything else you feel you need to remind me of?”

[chainrender]

An ethereal space, in a realm that even the elder god could not reach. He presumed, it was a space solely reserved for Creators and the like, which would mean, of those he knew, it would be Eslo, Leos and Azatoth. Annoying how one component was enough to ruin it for him. He held the Power of Apocalypse all too handily, but used it so rarely some would question if he did. Yet, it was the Power of Genesis alongside it that made a true Creator. Such aggravating rules, he thought to himself, as he slumped into a false chair hanging in the air.

“Fine, lets just get this out of the way already.”

[chainrender]

As the party went their separate ways, to rest or train or otherwise, Simon would keep pace with the owner of attention, the one named Myrina. Having investigated her quite meticulously, he found her to be the most interesting of the group. So many secrets her origin did hold, and yet none of it was apparent to her of all people. He dribbled with the knowledge in his mind, wondering what could be done with it. But until then, he would simply pose to her a question.

“Is it fear that inspires such hostility for me? Or some sort of ill-conceived moral high ground?”

[chainrender]

“Thank you, Rathion for giving me this chance. The chance to show you the truth. I will push them to their very limits. I will break their world all around them. True heroes will finally stand above them all. Or I will fail and be proven wrong. Either way, I will be happy. In due time, I will change everything. Truth will be reality. That...is the life worth living.”

[daariv]

His metamorphosis did little to move her. Clasping her hands together she would politely wait her turn to speak. It was then that she would make her rounds around his now adult frame, assessing him. Once pleased, a smile would grace her lips. 

“You approach me, questioning my resolve, my sincerity… and then inquire if I would be willing to use myself as a bartering chip to attain the means of accomplishing my goal? Now now, my boy wouldn’t you know the answer from my previous words? I am quite certain you had been listening.”

Although she remained smiling her tone was vicious. Spinning on her heel, she would move to her throne once more, taking a seat. The dirt that was possibly left on her furs (only the best werewolf pelts), seemingly more interesting for a brief amount of time. Eventually she would look darkly up to him.

“I accept the terms of our agreement…now, shall we sign in blood?”

[chainrender]

“Assumptions are never a wise thing to partake in, something you and I are most likely very well acquainted with.”

She was right though. This was utterly and completely expected. She was far too driven of a woman, too ambitious, to let something like this go by as an idle threat. Vai’non’s very presence in her court would make it all the more clear that he was not here for the sake of mere pleasantries. The danger that was presented to her and hers was very real.

“I sign in a very different ink, I’m afraid. And unfortunately, this is not a solo job, my lady. You will have to work with others, and while I shall mediate, I do expect you to work together. Perhaps not get along, but you shall all have the same goals in mind. That said, it’s entirely possible they will not agree with your methods and ideologies. That is for you to handle, is that clear? This is not an enemy you can hope to defeat without them.”

He spoke rapidly, as though in a hurry, like his words would be more pleasant to the ear if she heard it in one quick swoop. She had already agreed, but she didn’t read all of the fine print, unfortunately. Pressing for more details would have been wise in her position, but what could one do when faced with the end of all her ambition. Certainly not question, oh no.

With a bit of rushed flourish, Vai’non turned to leave the throne room, pausing only when he reached the doorway.

“Make your way southward, to the Port of Rialgas Bay. There, we shall sign our contract. Be prepared; you will be pushed to your very limit and beyond before our arrangement comes to an end.”

[kai-too]

[@fnfnrim]

[psy-choticism]

Decomposition.

©Lusaベイブ

PixivID 14635773

[daariv]

Lip quivered ever so slightly in a pout at his words. She then would brush it off, returning to the matter at hand. A question posed to her. How far was she willing to go to claim what she sought? Lips pursed together as her sweeping steps approached one of the many paintings in her throne room.  A man sat posed, his brow set in determination, and features gruff yet kind. 

“Say, Sir Intruder Know It All, do you know the history behind this piece?” 

Before he had the chance to answer she would spin around to face him, her hand gesturing behind her as she spoke. “Ah, of course, anyone with knowledge of the hunters and art would. Nearly 300 years ago there was a terrible massacre in the vaults of the hunters and this portrait was stolen. This single portrait… Every other valuable, cursed, magical item and hunters portrait remained untouched, but not this one. Not the hunter, Jespar De Richelieu.”

Her words were fueled by passion, a step forward. “Do you know why I labored tirelessly on tracking this down…? Why I stepped into the domain of those I once called family, those whom my father and his father and his father before him, called brother – and made the choice to cut them down when they were in my way? Because I wanted this. Because it was mine. He was my father before he would ever be their hunter. If that is not an apt answer for you, let me be frank. I will do whatever it takes, kill whoever I need, to fulfill my goals.” 

[chainrender]

He listened silently, knowing that he had opened the floodgates to a very deep passion in whatever remained of this woman’s soul. The ambition, the drive, it was all so beautiful to behold, something that the world was so painfully devoid of as of late. It brought him joy, on a level that sank far below the flesh. Before her eyes, the boy would change, his stature growing, as though aging at an absurd pace, his clothing following suit. Even as she finished speaking, the transformation was all but complete, the boy now an adult, his body exuding an air of intense evil. For some, it would be revolting. For her, it would be as though she was speaking with an old friend.

“Oh, now that is quite the wonderful answer, Lady De Richelieu. One can expect such responses, but it’s nothing compared to the act of hearing it in person. It’s quite invigorating.”

The voice had changed suit as well, a deeper speech with his tones of mirth and glee more subdued but undoubtedly there. It was rare that he ever found one that he felt any level of comfort near enough to take on this form, namely because beings of like nature to him were often less than willing to have a conversation with abomination, seeing him as a threat, and rightfully so. Still, Emery had proven to be quite the treat and she would only have to look upon his smile to see it.

“Then heed my words, and heed them well, for the future of your dream relies upon it. Your Vampiric Host is quite a fierce force, but there is another, rising in the world that you cannot reach, an entity that will command an army far beyond the might that yours can hope to match. In due time, they will strike at this world and wipe it clean of any signs of the mortals that once inhabited it, and you and your legions will be utterly annihilated - or worse.”

“This end need not be written in stone. You and I can prevent it, but for such to work, a partnership of sorts will be necessary. I shall use you for all that you are worth and in turn, you shall do the same of me. What say you?”

[fauxfirefeathers-blog]

Slam. Slam. Slam.

Ringing thuds came from the points where her tail excitedly whipped against the sides of the carriage, her enthusiasm ever-apparent. She was quite sued to patrons coming from all over to see her, but this one definitely felt different. There was something too familiar about him, and that paired with her tendency to overtrust made the ordeal that much more exciting for the young demonborn. 

Slam. Slam. Slam. 

There were many a dent in the sides of her compartment– it appeared as if her excitement was not an uncommon occurrence, yet it only emphasized that her home was far too small for someone like her. It was likely that she could have destroyed it and broken out long ago– but that was a thought she’d never entertained once.

“A partner? I’ve never had a partner before. What do I gotta do, then, mister? You sure you’re supposed to be seeking me? I was for sure that you’d come to see Estella- her beard’s fantastic!”

[chainrender]

Her enthusiasm was truly something to behold, a sight that brought a raised brow in response. Quite frankly, she was an adorable creature, if not perhaps a tad hopeless in the grand scheme of things. But such things could always be remedied in due time. All living things would come to grow and change with the right incentive, and he was here to offer this girl just that. Fate had come to intervene on this girl’s small little world.

“No, no, trust me, I’m quite certain that you’re the one I’ve sought.”

A hand was placed upon her shoulder as he leaned in close, the faces of the two demonic entities now barely inches apart as he lifted a hand, one finger raised before his lips in a very common sign.

“Hush for a moment. What I’m about to tell you is very important.”

“In a few moments, I will free you here. Your chains will vanish and the door shall unlock. From then on out, everything is your choice. You can choose to run and find your own life. You can choose to stay behind and accept what you are here. Or, you can listen to my directions. Go to the southernmost point of Faerun, the Port of Rialgas Bay. There, you will find three things: me, your new companions, but most importantly, the future you never knew you had, a future that you can make for yourself. But as I said, pursuing that, is entirely up to you.”

He let the words sink in, hoping that perhaps, even if she didn’t know why it was happening, A’lish could understand that what he was saying was no joke.There was none of the jest to his words that he had before, none of the sly undertones. It would be clear to her in time. She only needed to listen and obey, and her world would be changed forever.

“Am I clear?”

[daariv]

His lips grazed her knuckles in the traditional fashion of royalty, a nod of approval was her response. Her lithe frame would then climb the three steps to the throne. Drowning in crimson and gold, she would sit, crossing her legs and placing her hands upon her knees.

Her gaze would move over to a small table, taking an ornate fan from it she would appear to examine it, before quickly snapping it open and bringing it to her lips.

“You step…no, break, into my castle, sit on my throne, and do not have the decency to give me your name? Quite bad form.” 

Eyes narrowed at each word she spoke, before she seemed to return to normalcy, lowering her prop before leaning forward; as if interested in what sort of explanation he could give.  

“Or is it…” A soft gasp, as her features seemed to be mockingly shocked. “Perhaps you simply do not have one! You poor thing, living a nameless existence - No one would ever able to know the real you, because there is none without a name…then again – Ah no matter. Maybe I shall bequeath one to you, perhaps with a title as well!”

Rising, she would gracefully pace before her throne, hemming and hawing as she seemed to go through options in her head. None of which were appropriate or would be liked. 

[chainrender]

“I’ve known generations worth of manners and proper form, so many that is has become abundantly clear to me that it is a waste of time. Besides, if I were to be dead honest, you should consider yourself blessed that I even gave the throne back without you kneeling. But I’ve never been one for that sort of life, so we shall carry on.”

His tone was clear and unapologetic, without even a hint that he might perhaps be simply joking. This was one he could joke with, but at the same time, he could also hammer in the grim truth, that all he was doing here was a courtesy to help her save face. They were, by no means, equal. It was not something he often chose to express, but sometimes a boot to the ass was what was needed to get back on track.

“Oh I have many titles and many names - Requiem, Chronos Abomination, Keeper of Time’s Crypt, so on and so forth. However, it would be inappropriate to give you the name I’ve dubbed onto myself, for that is not something I give lightly, and quite frankly, prestigious as your position may be, you have not earned that right. Not yet.”

He spun to face her with a brilliant flourish, his sterile white coat seeming to float in the air longer than it should have. An expression of childlike glee belied the age and the sheer magnitude of this being’s existence. He did not come here for idle chatter, much as he would enjoy it. He was here with purpose.

“Tell me, how far are you willing to go to claim what you seek?”

[ominousvoice-blog]

When the end didn’t come as he had assumed it would, Aeolus lifted his head in surprise. The sounds of battle, rather than fading away as he had thought, instead began to rang out behind him. Supporting his weight on his weapon, the young knight forced his battered and aching body up and around to once more face his attackers. Seeing them engaged with a newcomer, a boy who appeared to be no more than a child himself, the youth felt a surge of strength begin to fill his body, his muscles resonating with his noble desires. How could he simply lay down and die when this boy fought on? No matter the powers the poetically inclined boy wielded, how could Aeolus still call himself a knight if he allowed himself to die and leave this stranger to clean up his own mess?

His body tensing with effort, Aeolus forced himself upright and took up his weapon once more. There was little honor in attacking an opponent who was unawares, but his opponents were hardly possessing of such honor that they deserved that courtesy.

Grinding his heels into the ground, Aeolus tensed every muscle in his body at once, coiling himself like a spring before releasing that stored tension in a singular burst of upwards motion. Soaring high into the sky, the crisp and cool air stinging at his open wounds, Aeolus turned his focus on the largest grouping of the bandits below him and, in a motion that seemed to defy the reality of physics, turned himself in midair and dove towards them.

“Meteoric...IMPACT!”

The habit was one his elders had always scolded him for, but the boy had never been able to resist naming his more daring maneuvers. Though the strike itself was a simple thing, a combination of gravity, momentum, and sheer brute strength, the name proved appropriate as bodies scattered around the young knight’s point of impact. The ground cracked beneath the weight of his armor, his lance buried halfway up its haft by the driving force of his dive. This was what it was to be a Dragoon, that elite force whose tactics were originally designed to slay the almighty dragons themselves. Tearing his weapon from the ground, sheer willpower and determination allowing him to ignore the pain lancing through his body, Aeolus put his back towards the new arrival to the battle who had so invigorated his chivalrous spirit and faced their remaining aggressors.

“…I know not who you are, sir, but I thank you for coming to my aid. I swear to you by the honor of my order, I will find a way to repay you once these brigands are dealt with.”

[chainrender]

His smile held as he realized his intervention had given the young celestial a new lease on life, invigorating the youth back into combat with a fervor that could only be.described as heroic. It was a brilliant display that would have warmed the hearts of any wide-eyed child, but for Vai’non, it was more than a little ridiculous, and even his smile couldn’t hold when he heard the boy yell out something that he could only assume was...

“Flashy, but a bit of overkill isnt it? Just attacking them head on would have done the trick...and did you really name that attack?”

A disapproving tone, only partially aimed at the idiotic nature of naming one’s techniques. The boy was an honor preacher, a tiring existence to say the least, but he could be sure to work it in his favor. Better to put this situation to rest quickly than to waste time ruminating over how stupid this one was. With a shrug, Vai’non commanded the stones surrounding his head to rise, circling around the two white haired individuals with unnerving precision.

“Relax. This battle is already over. You’ve pushed yourself a little too hard with that one, so let me finish this up.”

A flash of a smile as the orbit of the rocks around the two began to expand, the stones spinning faster and faster the further they drew out. As they revolved, they began to accelerate to levels far beyond human sight, eventually becoming a singular ring around them, that only promised pain and death to those unfortunate enough to attempt to approach. One fool took a leap of faith, and cried out in agony as the stones tore through him again and again, even as he began his descent to the ground. Fervor was quickly replaced by fear, as the five that now remained realized they were no longer in a profitable situation...

[daariv]

While anyone else would have expected to hear graceful steps upon marbled floors, the halls were devoid of any sort of sound. Odd, when a woman’s scarlet footwear certainly pressed against the floors surface. It was almost as if she were a spectre or phantasm, wandering the ostentatious halls of a castle crafted from obscure history. 

Digits with nails painted crimson would lightly dust the inside of a gold frame. Bringing it up to examine what residue was left on her fingers before glancing up at the painting. A portrait of a woman, stylized circa the “Golden Age”. 

Red eyes moved quickly from it, returning down the hall towards her throne room, where a voice was playing a very lazy version of hide and seek with her. Lips upturned slightly. She was not without humor, she was actually quite fond of games. 

“If you were planning on calling upon me, then mayhaps you should have scheduled an appropriate audience. My retainers would have been happy to assist you, should you be confused.” 

A beat of pause as she rested her hands upon the handle of her large throne room door. “If my followers have qualms with my actions, I implore them to speak up.” While her expression seemed calm, her words held a dangerous undertone, one only masked by the volume of which she spoke. 

Entering her own throne room, she would rest her eyes upon the boy sitting there. Bringing her hand to her cheek she would gaze upon him in reflection for a bit, before clucking her tongue. “Oh my, it is much too large for you.” 

An underhanded double meaning perhaps, or maybe she did simply mean it literally, who knows? Certainly not him…

Her own coy smirk took over as she adjusted her furs, before moving into a sweeping curtsy. “I beg your pardon my Lord…”

“But I am going to need that back.”

[chainrender]

He couldn’t help but laugh at her comments, a genuine chuckle of utter amusement which only came when he came across someone whom he could be genuine with. Benevolence was not his normal, but very often he had to play the role, when he would very much rather play the instigator, the teaser, the vile. A jaded view he held on the world and on the majority of its occupants gave way to such thoughts.

“Oh, of course, just keeping it warm for you. I know how that tends to be a problem for vampires.”

A snarky comeback for a snarky comment. Stepping down from its placement, the boy approached the vampire, bowing low to her whilst taking her hand to kiss it, a set of actions made comical by how diminutive the figure was. Rising from the action, he stepped on past her, hands held behind his back, a quiet hum on his lips.

“Emery De Richelieu. Rising Lord of those who stalk the darkness, and lover to the Master of the Endless Hunt - you have my sympathies for that. One who vows to bring the chaotic horde together under one banner. It is truly a pleasure to finally make the acquaintance of one so capable of taking grasp of one’s fate. So many just wallow and languish when given a less than pleasant lot in life, but you’ve turned it into quite the spectacle. It’s truly a pleasure to record your antics, and you have nothing but my utmost respect.”

“Ah but I know so much about you, and you know nothing about me. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is...”

“Something I will tell you in due time. You may call the Eternal Historian in the meanwhile.”