The Dragomirov brothers, Artemy the older and Nikolai the younger, come from an intensely religious family that were amiable enough to their brood and cloth, but violent towards outsiders and other factions/interpretations of their faith. Not actually nobles themselves, they became rich through warmongering and pillaging in the name of their faith.
All of the blood thirsty, conquering tendencies funneled into Artemy, who has a deep sense of devotion to the church, and shame towards his ‘sinful’ urges. On the other hand, the baby faced Nikolai doesn’t feel much of a connection towards his family’s faith and is mostly in it for the perks of being rich. He’s got a smart mouth but would rather use it to chase cute nuns and alter boys.
Normally, their practices would alienate them from the rest of the church cause pillaging and taking prisoners for hard labour are bad no matter the reasons.
But they were in the right place at the right time when conflicts between countries intensified. The Dragomirovs were needed for the survival of their faith and the collection of kingdoms linked by it. As their victories grew, they were heralded as heroes by their church and lords.
Fearing that the flow of invaders would never end, the church decided to permanently keep the Dragomirovs as guardians. The archbishops came together and did a ritual sacrifice of a powerful demon/fallen angel to make the family extremely powerful (mega hornie) vampires.
This is kind of taking from when the middle ages catholic church said you could buy your way to heaven as long as you paid them enough, and did enough things in the name of the church. Then, you can pretty much drink wine out of duck pussy and still be guaranteed past the pearly gates.
As a reward for their deeds, and the feat of slaying that demon, they became immortal fanged monsters that could indulge in their bloodlust and regular lust as much as they wanted. Halos appeared around their pupils, glowing as a sign of their divinity, and their bites were addictive, forcing victims into complete loyal servitude. They are allowed to walk in daylight, and church relics can’t hurt them.
They’re weak to demonic things or people, though that’s relative to skill. Being demonic means having a chance at hurting them but their main profession is killing demons. They could be overpowered but there aren’t any countries or armies left to pose that much of a threat.
Despite being a kind of vampire, the family hates ‘evil’ vampires, and indiscriminately hunt them and other supernatural creatures. Witches and warlocks also get the torch, though that’s more of a formality since the family drinks them dry anyways.
That being said, the dragomirov’s own beneficiaries started to fear them cause they would go around turning people into their vampiric servants or gather a huge harem. That was mostly nikolai but Artemy periodically snaps and indulges in vice harder than his brother does.
It got worse after Artemy got antsy that conflicts were dying down, he wanted to do counter-invasions against the wishes of his parents. Keeping the borders strong was their priority, but Artemy’s bloodthirst was out of control. He killed them and went on to lead war campaigns that would soon earn him the title Warlord Saint. Countries he’s lead his armies through were know to burn for months, turning the sky gray with smoke, and turning the sun a ghastly red.
Nikolai, jealous little bastard, started getting jealous of all of Artemy’s fame. People feared him as much as they wanted to fuck him ajkgdldgds. The members of the church saw this growing resentment as an opportunity to end the chaos by supporting nikolai in his bid for power.
Getting the better of Artemy, nikolai defeated him in a duel but still cared about him enough to want to keep him alive. So artemy was pinned to the inside of a coffin with a sharpened demon’s rib. Nikolai had slashed his face during the duel, and the claw marks will never stop bleeding, which flows out of the locked coffin which got stuck under the alter of the family’s church building.
So, Nikolai didn’t go pillaging anymore or starting fights, but he went ham on his own brood and anyone that happened to wander into his territory. Became known as the Grand Hedonist by sticking his dicc in every priest and nun, indulged in the church’s riches which in turn cursed all of that shit.
The Kingdoms turned into a circus, with so much blood and nut spilling into the ground that it spoiled the soil and spread a horrible plague. What remained of the church members that gave the dragomirov’s their power couldn’t ask for help from their lord because the family had served him so well. They had to instead turn to the king of lies downstairs to seal Nikolai and his followers in his estate to be swallowed by the earth. All of this in exchange for forsaking their faith and becoming new demon lords.
That’s it, and peace gradually came back after much sacrifice but the next time conflict breaks out and fresh blood is spilled on their ancestral homeland, the brothers are prophesized to break out of their prison and spread their curse anew.
Side notes:
Dragomirov isn’t the last name of their parents. Their dad was named dragomirov and had a big ego so he gave his sons this surname. Drago means ‘precious’ and mir means ‘peace’ which is some added irony.
Artemy is very devout, all about following the good word to the T, and sacrificing every bit of himself for it. but can't stop himself from getting violence boners and will get randy while he’s in his nasty blood soaked armor, but is likely to break his partners bones when he gets out of control
Tho he denies it, Artemy has a taste for people with green eyes and will make a beeline for them. Like, skips over entire areas cause he heard of someone with pretty green eyes. it's cause his combat teacher had green eyes but otherwise he likes gentle people cause even tho his parents were very strict, his teacher was fair and had a soft spot for him
Nikolai loves the polar opposite; fighters and people that take work to break down. Can’t keep his hands to himself when it comes to scars cause they tell him that he's got a fighter in a cage
Artemy uses his mind control powers a lot but Nikolai prefers not to cause he likes chasing and watching his prisoners try to escape
opposites going on where Artemy tries to be intense but gets very baby with his S/O, snuggling up to them and clinging to them even tho he's much bigger and bulkier. and Nikolai pretends to be a good boy on the clingy side but will bite down to make people do his bidding
The brothers both keep momentos/trophies from vampires or other creatures they’ve slain. Fangs, horns, and claws are stuff that Artemy likes to keep and wear for intimidation factor, but nikolai likes wet stuff which includes eyes, tongues, and organs for aesthetic decoration.
Nikolai loves keeping werewolves as pet dogsbut like, he'll fuck em too. his werewolves are trying to bite him through their mesh muzzles but he laughs and says that they're actually kissing him
usually, the brothers both zero in on the same person even if they’re jelly of each other but they'll DP if they're too horny to fight each other.
Artemy is covered in battle scars and in most settings, covers his face in bandages or a mask (with his eyes uncovered) to keep his permanently bleeding face gashes from getting everything wet all the time.
Nikolai doesn’t throw himself into harrowing fights as much as his brothers so he doesn’t have as many scars, but loves piercings. His parents didn’t tho so he couldn’t get face piercings or even ear piercings. Even after they had died, the compulsion still stuck. Instead he has tons of body piercings and is very proud of the ones on his dick.
Artemy is more of a classical gothic romantic where he takes his S/O to hilariously emo poetic dates, like picnics at the cemetery. Nikolai can barely stand wearing a tie the proper way and would rather eat pussy under a truck.
The brothers’ fangs are so sharp that it even cuts up their own mouths, and their partners’ tongues when they make out. Specifically Nikolai’s fangs are slightly too big for his mouth so they stick out a bit and make his lip bleed when he’s not careful
Sitting at the very end of the bar, alone and nervous under the hazy pot lights of the Panacæa, was a sweet little morsel. The quiet Thursday night made their heart flutter, and they waited for the bartender to notice them despite being at the front of the queue.
Nico dragged his tongue over his lips, tasting the acrid cigarette smoke wafting from the booths. Hidden in the fog’s stench was the gentle tang of his prey’s cold sweat melding with the perfume their mother must have sprayed at them on their way out.
The spoiled, sheltered sorts weren’t Nico’s first choices. Though he and his ‘colleagues’ didn’t hunt for the same reasons, neither preferred meat untainted by worry or fear.
But, while this heiress sat on plush couches waiting for stylists to pick out their clothing, their pulse rose for no reason. Nico recalled them telling him once that getting fitted in front of a mirror gave them symptoms resembling a panic.
Gabriel was a child reared under the umbrella of a runaway rich record label and hated every minute of it.
Coming to this bar, even if it made the little lady steep in anxiety, must have been a small revenge against the person that put them in front of the mirror.
That was how it was, at first.
Shifting her eyes from her clasped lap for a moment, the tabloid’s “Shy Gabby” looked up at the spaces between the shelves of spirits. There, she spied a new painting Nico had hung up to replace a copied print.
“I thought a genuine piece would be more interesting.” The bartender enjoyed startling his patrons, and watching how quickly they slid back to ease. His guest stifled a gasp, straightening their back in fright before letting their shoulders relax, though not all the way. The heiress and her heavily concealed eye bags never quite fully relaxed.
Leaning a hand on his countertop, Nico splayed his fingers and regarded the girl’s widened eyes through their bangs. They gazed at the glint of his piercings, quickly matching his green gaze.
In the low lighting, Nico’s slitted pupils were dilated just enough to pass as human. With how threat held an air of allure, the close brush was on purpose.
“You don’t like it.” He smiled easily.
Gabby struggled to reply, going so far as to hide her blushing cheeks behind her hands.
“Um, hi Nico,” She settled on greeting him sheepishly. “It’s uh, not that don’t like it. I’m just getting certain strong feelings.”
True to her polite upbringing, Gabby downplayed how the painting made her want to throttle a child.
The painting itself was reminiscent of a pastoral paradise; a summer’s day in a garden just outside an orchard. Vibrant greens and yellows contrasted the darker ambience of the bar, and if you squinted, you could see the crushed little daises in the grass.
Despite the peaceful scenery, the artwork screamed. Off in the corner of that garden was a white wooden picnic bench where a mother had laid an array of desserts for her baby’s birthday. Most of it was on the ground, and the baby was shrieking so hard that a vessel had burst in their eye. Both mother and child were red in the face, one from stress and the other from temper.
They took up the smallest section of the beautiful canvas yet commanded total attention.
“This is a Degrassi piece,” Nico explained, wanting to smoke a pack just from staring that the thing for too long. “Titled ‘Nightmare,’”
“Really?” Gabby creased her brow. “All because of a little baby?”
“You see a baby, but Degrassi originally named it ‘The Obstacle.’”
Biting her lip, the heiress seemed to want to say something. Whatever it was clearly bothered her but she swallowed her troubles. Nico figures a chaser would eventually help it bubble back to the surface.
“A blue paloma for you?” Nico offered her the usual. “With the spiced rim?”
Glad for a diversion, Gabby nodded eagerly. “Yes please!”
“Unfortunately, it’ll be off the menu very soon,” Nico informed her, watching her smile fall. “I’m slimming down the selection for costs, you see? More of my patrons prefer the original recipe and the syrup for the blue paloma and its sisters are expensive. I have to prioritize what’s important.’
“Oh…” Gabby stifled a sigh as Nico filled a crystal highball with mint leaves and slices of citrus.
“So, don’t go running of anywhere,” He cracked open a brand-new bottle of the Empress Butterfly, and drizzled it over the fruit. “I’ll keep a bottle in house, just for you.”
Gabby couldn’t stop herself from smiling, leaning over the bar to watch him turn the glass sky-blue with the tequila and grapefruit soda.
“Just for me,” Gabby repeated, becoming a flustered pink. Her anxiety slowly gaining on her.
“Like I said, I have to prioritize what’s important.” The heiress’ reaction pleased him, and he let a fang peak out of his smile. He slid the drink towards her, directing her attention there. His tongue swiped away the venom leaking from his aching teeth.
There was no need to overdo, or waste more on that blue bottle. The venom rubbed into the bottom of that glass was close to an overdose for a fragile regular.
Inhaling slowly, Nico watched the drink touch Gabby’s lips, and the bitter tang of his venom sliding over her tongue remained undetected. His poison sunk into her flesh, working fast as the worst of it coursed down her throat.
“I wonder,” The bartender glanced at the painting. “Maybe I should put that thing back in storage if it’s making everyone uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” Gabby shook her head, pushing her platinum hair out of her face. She couldn’t quite focus her eyes on the picture. “Or well, no for me. No as in it doesn’t bother me that way. The way that—” she waved the words away from her face.
“Go on.” Nico encouraged her, nodding at a passing patron heading to the washroom.
“That title, and that baby actually makes me a little laughy,” Gabby touched her numb chin. “Before my parents got married, my dad already had a little boy. Mom never liked my big brother. Not even when he got old enough to take care of me. Once I got a big scholarship, he decided that I could take care of myself, and dropped off the map.”
She paused to reach the bottom of her glass. Flushed almost as brightly as the subjects of the painting, Gabby gaped at her empty drink in confusion.
“Sorry, I don’t usually pound these back so fast.”
“Don’t apologize for a compliment,” Nico smirked, having already prepped a second paloma. As far as he knew, Gabby never smoked. The addictiveness of his venom was hitting her hard. Her chest rose and fell faster but she didn’t notice, reaching for the glass herself. “But for your brother’s disappearance, I’m awfully sorry about that.”
“That’s okay, I really like talking about him,” She glanced at the painting, needing to really screw her eyes to see that annoying little baby. “Mom threw out all of his pictures, so seeing that painting is…” She leaned her cheek on her palm, her words slurring together. “…seeing him again.”
A pair of men got up from their booth and headed for the washroom. Nico watched them carefully, and concluded that didn’t notice Gabby slouching over.
Gabby raised her drink and missed her mouth. The drink sloshed against her chin and dripped on her clothes.
“Wait, wait, I have to thank you,” She gripped the edge of the bar. “You’re keeping that bottle just for me, and talking just to me. What about, what about your other customers?”
“It’s no—” Nico looked up and saw the entire bar empty, save for a man wobbling towards the washroom. “—problem?”
“I should call my driver over just in case,” Gabby dug rummaged through her coat pocket, not quite being able to get a good grip on her phone. “I think I’m floating.”
Nico closed his hand over hers, the cold perspiration of the glass dripping over their fingers. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek and she was far gone enough to lean against them.
“Don’t you remember? You didn’t want your mother to find out how bad you’ve been. Won’t you stay a while longer?” He was closing in on Gabby. She could smell the poison on his breath. A sickly sweetness mingled in his words, masking Nico’s growing annoyance at the spoiled little kid.
After she ‘disappears,’ the real stars would wander in. Her parents, despairing over the loss of both their children, would eventually find their way here, plummeting out of the sky to join shy Gabby.
Unlike his colleagues, Nico didn’t just pluck litter off the ground. He wanted to make the stars fall.
“You’re...” Gabby rubbed her eye, feeling her throat close as her vision blurred. “You’re so nice to me.”
With the bar empty, Nico stood back and let Gabby’s head fall on the counter. It bruised her forehead but he merely regarded her banally.
“Such a waste,” The snake tsked, lifting the half drunken cocktail. Gabby murmured something and Nico lifted a brow. “Still there?” He flicked his tongue out and tasted copper. “I shouldn’t have given you a full dose. There could have been a second catch if I saved.”
He had given her enough venom to kill a full-grown human. Gabby was in her twenties but childish that Nico could argue that she didn’t qualify but, he didn’t expect it to make her bleed.
“Hm.” He rolled her head to check if her nose or eyes were bleeding. Seeing them dry, he pried her mouth open and clean drool dripped out.
Then where was that smell coming from?
Tasting the air, he mulled over his empty bar. Panic stabbed him in the ass the moment he realized no one had left the building.
“Fuck!” He rushed out from behind the bar and down the hall towards the bathrooms. Throwing open the door to the men’s, Nico almost broke the steel handle from the absolute mess those animals made in his business.
Blood was splattered everywhere, because the humans had the foresight to use knives instead of guns.
Three men were flooding the floor on the ground, and a fourth was slouched in the back stall, groaning pitifully.
“H-help me,” They cried, having heard the door open.
“Ssssssshut up.” Nico hissed, stepping away from the spreading blood pond. If he left footprints, the police were going to ask about it.
Of course he’d have to call the cops. Nico would owe every asshole on the street a favor if he tried to hide four bodies by himself.
Gripping his hair, he scanned the washroom to figure out exactly what the hell happened.
The man dying in the stall must have been the first one to to arrive, followed by the two mobsters Nico had repeatedly told not to conduct their deals in his establishment. Obviously not listening to him, the idiots probably began talking without checking for other people in the stalls.
Judging by how close their body was to the first man’s, they noticed him, thought they were being listened in on, killed him, and turned to each other.
‘I got set up,’ The mobsters both thought, and wrestled with each other.
Nico had chosen to have the bathrooms as far as reasonably possible from the bar, asking the renovators to rework the ventilations to guarantee human guests wouldn’t be bothered by smells or noises. So that’s why he didn’t hear a skull smashing on the edge of a sink. The giant pig took an entire corner off the sink.
That was when the fourth person rolled on the scene, drunk out of their mind. The survivor should have told him that they were having a bad dream and turn him around. Too bad he went for flashy and slashed at the jugular, which explains the spray on the ceiling and the body laying against the wall.
“Last man standing, how did you die?” Nico asked the one face down on the drain. There was a clean streak by his shoe and the snake figured he was laying on top of his knife.
Slipped and fell. Classic slapstick.
The body was close enough for Nico to touch without stepping into the blood. He slid on gloves he always kept in the lapel of his coat, and rolled the man over.
Whether his theory as correct or not didn’t matter in the end.
None of this was his doing but when the police come to investigate, they were going to do a sweep for evidence. The uniforms had the tools to detect clues Nico couldn’t, including traces of his venom on the cups, the tables, Gabby……
Retreating from the washroom, Nico dialed his tenant’s number and waited for their sleepy voice. It took three calls for them to pick up.
“I was taking my 1AM nap.” She snapped at him.
“It’s freezing down here, check the thermostat and dial the heat up.”
The line went dead, and Nico could hear her stomping out of her room.
Returning to the bar, he stood over Gabby’s still body. She was in a deep sleep, dreaming without a care in the world.
Grumbling, Nico pulled an antidote from his belt and looked for a syringe behind the counter.
“You’re lucky I can’t handle hiding you and a quadruple homicide at once.” He pierced the vial’s container with the needle, pulling on the plunger with his teeth. “You get one more week.”
Yanking Gabby’s hair out of the way, he stabbed the syringe into her neck.
Come two in the morning, Nico was watching Gabby wake up. She weakly lifted her head and tried to flex her fingers. The residual effects of the venom made her feel heavy and she collapsed back on to the bar counter. Luckily, Nico’s folded coat was there to cushion her chin.
“Had a few pre-drinks before you went out?’ Nico asked, sitting right next to her. “No judgements. A little offended, I’ll admit, but no judgements.”
“I didn’t,” Gabby rubbed her temple, equal parts humiliated at her behavior and grateful that Nico watched over her. “What happened to me?” She asked herself, eyes blood shot. They snapped wide and her cheeks puffed up.
Slapping a hand over her mouth, Gabby ran for the washroom and Nico watched her go. The anti-venom tended to cause intense nausea and emptied the stomach for whatever reason. Luckily, it would do so in quick fashion and hopefully not turn them inside out in the women’s room.
Either way, it would soon be over.
He went back to his workspace and began prepping a hangover remedy.
Gabby was back surprisingly quickly, only a little pale from her ordeal. She peeked out of the corner of the corridor to watch him crush ginger into a glass.
“Ginger and sugar’s good for hangovers. Come over and tell me if you prefer orange or cranberry,” Nico flashed a relaxed grin at her. “Actually, better idea. Would you like to help? I’ve found that moving around can help with the cricks.”
Silent at first, observing Nico with a bleary gaze, the lure of his voice made her loosen her shoulders. Gabby removed her jacket as she approached the bar.
Nico’s brows rose, seeing something off about her appearance. Was her bust always so modest? Huh, maybe she wore pads in public appearances.
“Sorry for making you look after me like that.” She apologized quietly.
“No worries, I spent the time cleaning the washrooms,” He laughed inwardly at his cheeky remark. “And you’re stalling.”
Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Gabby fidgeted with the edge of her shirt. It drew Nico’s attention to how much she looked different from her magazine appearances.
“I’m embarrassed,” Gabby interrupted Nico’s thoughts, coming to stand beside him. “There’s never been a need for me to cook anything. I mean, this isn’t cooking but I haven’t used a knife to even slice an orange.”
“It’s never too late to make a change. Try something new,” He stepped back and motioned Gabby to stand in next to him. “But since it’s a first, let me walk you through it.”
The heiress was being hesitant, staring at Nico’s tie rather than his face. He amused the idea of taking care of his problems the hard way, throwing the possibility of dismemberment on the table, but Gabby stepped into his space.
“You’re right.” She nodded, inhaling sharply at his cold hands laying themselves on her fingers. At second glance, he was wearing plastic gloves. “W-what would you think about a haircut?”
Barely registering the question, Nico pushed a knife handle into here palm and let his face brush against her hair as a distraction. He could practically see the shiver run up her spine.
Disregarding it as Gabby’s way of awkwardly filling the air, Nico replied “You’d look good whichever way but that isn’t for me to decide. I hope the changes you’ll make will convince you to smile at the mirror.”
Her lips twitched, floundering over how to react.
Then, she gripped the knife tight and cut into the fruit.
“Thank you,” She glanced at the snake, truly grateful. “You’ve always listened and taken care of me. Thank you.” Gabby repeated.
And what of it? How hard was it to take note?
Whittling the hour away over small talk and fruit juice, the conversation veered into what Nico used to have on his wall. Cleopatra, the Anti-Christ on Leviathan, and Thor wading through the waters of Aesir. Gabby hoped to travel to where those works were born.
“Let me bring you a piece someday.” Gabby promised on her way out of the bar.
“Do you need a taxi?”
“I don’t think so. Walking might not be so bad.”
“Goodbye then.” Nico said, watching her wave back at him from the door. Her slim frame disappeared from view beyond the shaded class doors. There was no doubt in the snake’s mind that she’d never come back.
Whistling, he removed the blade from the knife handle and returned it to its original holder. Now riddled with Gabby’s fingerprints, with strands of her hair scattered on the bathroom floor, the police would have to focus on the most obvious evidence instead of raiding his entire bar.
Sending in every little bit of evidence they could find to the labs would be too expensive.
They had to prioritize.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, and was about to go toss the knife into the bathroom when the doors swung open once again.
A different woman sauntered through the threshold.
“I see you’ve cranked the heating, Degrassi,” Nico drawled, pointedly bored at her arrival. “It’s a greenhouse in here.”
Eulia, fresh out of her studio, had recognized the stench seeping up from the floorboards. With some sort of insane foresight, her bastard landlord had organized the wide room above the bathrooms.
“Time of death, who the hell knows when the little bugs have a hot party on those corpses,” Eulia pressed her finger to her chin, smiling at the prospect. “I did your dirty work. At least let me take reference photos.”
“Make it quick.” He gestured to the bathrooms.
“Hope you didn’t let Mr. Gabe see your disaster before I did.”
It was a throwaway comment that made the room spin.
“What did you say?” Nico hissed through his fangs, pupils slimming to pinpricks.
Eulia, annoyed that he was stalling her, gripped her hips and hurried the explanation.
“Right, like you would know. Mr. Gabe and I went to the same University before I dropped out. We had to do group projects and he works better with the right pronouns,” Eulia twisted her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Actually, you must have slithered real close if he was comfortable enough to wear a binder around you.”
Backing into a highchair, Nico leaned his elbows on the arm rest and stared at the ceiling. He should be running; tasting the cold night’s wind for any trace of the witness. But what was the point; Gabe must have taken pictures of the scene if he had been so calm this whole time!
The pot lights glared at Nico and they were blinding.
“Wait, did you let him go to the bathroom?” Eulia trilled a truly awful giggle. “Oh big brother, relax! You’re truly loved! By Gabe and the Great Beast himself.”
“I only talked to him.” Nico glared at he, digging his fangs into his lip.
“And that shit stain was only a baby.”
He couldn’t listen to any more of it.
Nico trudged out of his bar to where the bodies lay rotting. Lingering on the knife in his gloved hands, the snake thought on the fool that had turned him into a worm.
Snarling, he threw the knife into the sea of blood, and banked on a miracle.
So Eric Delecroix is the name of one of my OCs who’s usually in some sort of policing, detective job if he’s on the right side of the law in whatever work I have him in
But come the second to last semester of Uni, my Criminal Profiling prof was named Eric Beauregard and I was like SHIT
Summary: A Thorn spy decided to torch the research they did on the Espina Rosa’s newest inmate, setting Theano’s plans back significantly. Under the guise of a researcher backed by Akanthus, he goes to meet the Champion of Ravenloss.
Chapter 2/???
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Chapter Index Link
The great Magesters of Nieboheim; Gods in a Greenhouse City.
In his teenage years, Theano would leer at those sheltered fools as they passed by. Without their robes, masks, or tower, those feeble mages would wilt under the weight of their true incompetence.
The only thing separating him from the so-called mouths of the Shapeless was the poisonous magic that ran through their veins. Why should Theano and his family have to wallow in the First Halo over circumstances left to chance?
“Do not lose your footing aiming so high. There are places Empties shouldn’t reach for,” A Magester had caught him glaring once, noticing some sort of spark in the young man lurking outside of a nondescript home. “You wear your envy so plainly on your sleeve, and with enough time, it will fester into wrath.”
They spoke, merely gazing ahead. Theano was apparently a child throwing a silent tantrum, not warranting enough importance to look down on.
“Such ills can only be cleansed in the belly of the Shapeless.” The Magester warned, hearing the sound of the Empty’s teeth grinding too late to see him lunging for them.
“Theano!” A girl with gold braids clasped his wrist, stopping him just in time. “Did you come all this way to visit me? Even after uhm…” She floundered, trying to come up with small talk. Quickly, she addressed the Magester. “Lovely of you to come by, we bought a brand new set of tools. The flowers you ordered should—”
But the Magester was already on his way. Poor Persephone had such problems finding chances to finish her sentences. She was always disappointed about it, never angry. Theano made up for the both of them.
“New tools? Are they still too heavy for you?” Theano asked dryly, setting aside his indignation for more immediate goals.
He had sounded annoyed, shedding not a hint of concern, but Persephone smiled. She held his hand and her ears glowed pink just from being around him.
“They’re better, not lighter,” Persephone admitted somewhat sheepishly. “I used to be able to carry them to the gardens outside by myself, I swear! I don’t know why I can’t anymore.” Her tone drooped to a sigh and Theano began getting impatient.
“What are you waiting for? Ask me to carry them then.”
The blunt proposal took Persephone aback at first, and Theano thought he had ruined yet another attempt, but the girl started to giggle.
“You’re really kind.” She said, sounding less winded by awkwardness. Why had Theano been worried? Persephone was easy, practically charming herself. “If you aren’t busy today, would you stay with me in the gardens. I like taking care of the flowers but they don’t make for good conversation.”
“If you insist.” Theano pretended to relent.
“Oh, if you’re actually busy or if you don’t want to, I won’t push!”
“I’m going!” He blurted out suddenly, fuming at how Persephone had clamped her hand over her mouth, trying not to grin.
The door to her home opened and the irksome owner of the flower gardens shambled outside.
“Persephone, your mother woke up! She wants to wish you good morning before you go,” He called for his daughter, mood souring at the sight of Theano. “You again! I thought I told you to leave my family alone!”
He shoved himself between Theano and Persephone, posturing like he was ten feet tall.
“Go before I tell the guards you came back to harass us!”
“Father!” Persephone tried to argue, easily being dragged back inside.
Holding back a snarl, Theano retreated to the space between Persephone’s shop and the next building. Leaning next to a window, he listened in on their spat.
“Is this because his family isn’t as well off as ours? Father, that’s shallow!” Persephone accused but her father wouldn’t have any of it.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with this! There’s just something about that boy.”
This wasn’t the first time Theano heard those words though not once have they failed to rile his ire.
“I hear that he scant speaks to anyone with respect let alone treat them kindly. Worse, it’s obvious that he has some sort of ill will towards the Magesters. Just yesterday, I heard from the guards that he’s been seen stalking some of our customers. Wares get stolen when he visits the forum.”
“No one can prove any of that! Theano just isn’t a people person.” Persephone made weak excuses that she fully believed.
“Even if the rumors aren’t true, he gives me a bad feeling. There’s just something off about him. Something lacking…”
Lacking. It was always about what Theano lacked. He couldn’t have anything or be anything because it was meant to be. The Magesters saw Theano this way, and so did the wretches they lumped him in with.
He dug his fingers into his palms, holding back from striking the wall should Persephone’s father notice him.
“That boy isn’t like the rest of us.”
Leaving the shade of Persephone’s home, Theano committed her father’s words to memory. The man had been right.
Theano wasn’t like the others.
He was the only one who knew that Magesters could get busy, like anyone else. They let their guard down and forget to watch their backs. Worse, they thought they were above the vermin scuttling through Nieboheim’s Halos. They forget that they could die like one, from a blow to the head with a tool Persephone realized had gone missing.
Magesters could be butchered like any animal too. After a while, their insides couldn’t be told apart from the butcher’s specials.
They fed Persephone’s flowers well, haphazardly buried in the dirt so the guards could find them before the worms gorged themselves.
What kind of an idiot would leave the bloodied shovel in their own home? Well, Persephone’s father was a laborer that worked with dirt. Definitely no scholar.
“You don’t have to look if it upsets you.” Theano stood by Persephone on the day of the Harvest. She had cried until her eyes had grown so puffy that she could barely keep them open.
Still, she refused to look away from her screaming Father. That murderer’s cries were drowned out by the jeers of the crowd. They threw rocks at him until the Shapeless’ godly form leaned down to swallow his sins whole.
Persephone’s father stopped crying injustice, and cried for his wife and child. His voice was muffled in the throat of his god, until it was finally silenced when his feet slipped past its lips.
Theano’s arms closed around Persephone’s shoulders when she collapsed against him, sobbing pitifully.
“It’s going to be alright,” He promised, whispering to her as he stroked her hair. The people’s cheering made the sky quake but his voice was the only one that mattered. Soon, it would be the only one Persephone would have left. “From now on, I’ll take care of you.”
The dead men’s words were now a fond memory.
Don’t aim so high. There are heights not meant for you.
You are lacking.
But Theano knew he wasn’t meant to wither where he lay, hoping fate would cast him a fond glance. He was meant to be powerful; to get back at the mages that disgraced him.
The reality of it was that others were too weak to reach their goals, and Theano would use their backs as stepping stones to reach his.
That fact hadn’t changed long after he escaped Nieboheim.
At the base of the stairs in the Espina Rosa’s third level, the members of the patrol kept a keen ear out as they stood guard. If they strained their hearing hard, they might hear the new inmate break those annoying researchers.
Their wishes came true and Sennidy’s body smashed head first on to the ground.
Silent abject horror tainted the air until the leader shouted to mobilize and aid Sennidy, despite his twisted limbs.
Sennidy had always been a coward, pressured into joining the Rose by his friends before they urged him to fall in with the Thorn. He may have been smart, but with enough bullying, the sea jelly would agree to the sky being green.
The Commander of the Thorn realized he was glad that Sennidy was dead. His corpse was light and easy to throw off the edge of the stairs.
“Now, I have the perfect excuse.” Theano muttered to himself, fixing his coat. He scanned his surroundings, and glanced down the stairs, locking eyes with a Rose soldier clutching their sword.
“I-I came up to check on you all…” The private stammered, reduced to a shaking mouse by Theano’s disdaining stare. “Don’t move!” He regained composure and seeing Theano disappearing back into the hall of cells, the soldier raced to apprehend him.
Outside of the chaos in the cells, Bradley showed the Prison’s researcher guest a heavily fortified crate. It stood apart from the other confiscated items within the vault. The seams were welded shut and its chains and locks held it heavy to the floor. All of these measures made the container itself seem like a sleeping beast. Tariche was waiting for it to start thrashing.
He whistled, finding more interest in Bradley’s nonchalance around hundreds of potentially dangerous artifacts.
“You run a busy doggy kennel,” He noted, watching Sofist’s assistant push a large utility dolly over to the crate. “I’m guessing these eventually pile up with how busy the labs are. What do you do with them? Keep’em on ice until we make room for you?”
Bradley paused, considering the question. Though the stuck-up labcoats had been on a scale of weird to outright rude, he supposed he should reward civility. Prisons were supposed to reinforce good behavior after all.
“Were you Clarence or Rand?”
“Just call me Tariche.” The researcher shrugged, already prying at the lid of a smaller crate.
“Oh.” Figuring it was a middle name, Bradley went and unlocked the box Tariche had become curious of.
Amulets, gems, wooden carvings; a whole array of magical items were tumbling to the floor. Tariche felt a breath of fresh air flowing out from the box, like a breeze through a warm meadow. From the scratches on these previous items, he could tell that some of the inmates had fought to try keeping these small comforts close to heart.
“These aren’t dangerous, per say. Just a lot of junk we have to take off of new inmates before we take them to their cells,” Bradley said, tossing a silver pendant on the pile. “We know what most of them are and it’s not worth bothering the labs. Objects like what the weaver had get snatched and don’t end up taking space for long.”
Checking his magic agenda, scrolling through the busy schedules of the Espina Rosa’s personnel, the private pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.
“I tend to handle the storage and I don’t want to keep them crowded. It’s just that there aren’t enough people to move this junk.”
“Move them where? An off-site warehouse?” Tariche asked.
Rather than answering him, Bradley lifted the crate and lead the researcher to a row of closed hatches. Leaning his elbow on a rune carved on the wall, Bradley let Tariche watch layers of metal slide away, pulled back by the grinding gears beyond what they could see.
Tipping the box, the private poured the magical items into the nondescript hole.
The inside was too dark to see inside and Tariche saw that the openings were pretty small. Sofist’s arm would have gotten stuck.
Once the box was empty, Bradley lifted off the rune and the hatch slammed closed. The final shift of metal against metal sounded like the weighty blade of a guillotine.
“Cleaning is a slow process but better safe than sorry,” The private flicked a different switch and the smoke hit Tariche’s nose before the fire had started. “We never know exactly how magic reacts so they don’t get filtered out until they’re safe ashes. I end up watching some of ours handle the chore in case its more volatile than usual.”
Tariche watched the hatch.
It didn’t make a noise. No crackling. No sparks.
All very boring for a process so sickening.
To the front of the room, the heavy doors swung open and Tariche could hear his Commander’s boots angrily pounding on the floor towards him.
Those doors were heavy and Theano had shoved them out of the way like nothing. Tariche hoped the Commander would keep being this sloppy, they might get caught. Better yet, there was an ugly tear across Theano’s chest but Tariche doubted any of the blood was his.
“We’re leaving,” Theano ordered, reigning in his snarl for later. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced at the largest sealed crate. “It’s come to my attention that conducting proper research on the subject will be impossible with the incompetence so thoroughly infecting this dog pen.”
“Wow, I was just saying.” Tariche scratched the back of his head, barely bothered by Theano’s haggard appearance. The Commander kept such a straight laced bored-slightly-annoyed frown that Tariche was beginning to think someone splashed him with juice instead of there being an actual disaster on day one.
Looking to Bradley, Theano and Tariche figured he hadn’t been this awake in a long time.
“What happened?” The private demanded, holding his shaking agenda up as if to shield himself from Theano. He had good instincts.
“Funny, telling me what to do,” Theano didn’t want to waste energy rolling his eyes. “I hope whoever replaces you and the warden will know their place.”
Bradley, flushed from fright and shock, bit down until his jaw ached.
“I would call the warden to discuss this but I think he’s already on his way.” The private ground out.
Sure enough, Sofist and a gaggle of the members of the patrol that escorted Theano through the third floor arrived at the vault. Tellingly, the minotaur politely entered with his paling entourage following like sheep.
“Fine,” Theano closed his eyes, pretending to get more frustrated, but Tariche could see the corner of his mouth twitching up. “If you’re here, I won’t need to leave the instructions with your underlings. My remaining partner and I will be leaving for Swordhaven the moment a ship sails from port.”
Sofist’s pause was so deafening, the pressure under the vault’s high ceiling became crushing. They could hear his sweat dripping on the floor.
“The patrol told me what happened,” Sofist was far smaller than he was when they first met. “All of what they…admitted. Was that true?”
“Them abandoning Rand and I, allowing for some creature to attack Rand from its cell, spurring him into blindly running off the edge of a sheer fifty foot fall?” Theano listed casually. “I should hope that was the case. Or else I had come down to the patrol to see that they had snapped his neck.”
Mouth falling open, Bradley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sofist taking Theano’s barbs with a dipped chin made it worse.
Then, the story continued.
“…Went...missing…” The leader of the patrol mumbled, piercing the air like cannon fire.
“WHAT?” Sofist turned on a dime and just about lifted the offending patrolman by the neck.
“It was Matthew!” The soldier’s chest heaved. “He went to go see why they were taking so long to come--” He quickly cut himself off.
“Go on now. You’ll only make it worse by lying.” Theano sneered.
Unable to take his gaze off the ground, the soldier continued.
“He went to go see why it was taking so long for them to get scared and come running back. Mathew’s been missing since.”
“Wonderful,” Theano interrupted Sofist before he could tear into the leader of the failed patrol. “I’ll be sure to emphasize that in the report to General Akanthus.”
On the sidelines, Tariche began waving sadly to the patrol and Sofist. He didn’t imagine they’ll see the light of day when high command caught word.
“Wait!” Bradley piped up, struggling between coming up with a solution and organizing a search for the missing soldier. “If we just….couldn’t we—” He looked to the warden desperately, and immediately regretted it.
The other Rose soldiers were looking to Sofist too, knowing their future was bleak, and were guilty they had taken the warden down with them.
“What a waste of time,” Theano turned to Tariche, knowing they could all hear him. “First the fire setback, and now this. We won’t have another chance to examine the subject for months at best. Far longer thanks to that idiot Rand putting his corpse in the way.”
Sennidy really was an idiot but this was all a show to lead the bull into his cage.
“All of you,” Sofist addressed his men. “Leave us.”
The soldiers marched out discreetly. Theano expected Bradley to follow but he stubbornly stood his ground. That one was going to be trouble.
“General Akanthus hearing of this—” Sofist’s lip curled. “—Failure on our part will cost both of us greatly. But, if we were to…”
Compromise.
Sofist obviously hated the concept, almost as much as Theano did. Even when it was others compromising for him, the Thorn Commander preferred that they bent completely.
Still, this was worth letting a smile escape. Slowly but surely, Theano would get his way.
Summary: A Thorn spy decided to torch the research they did on the Espina Rosa’s newest inmate, setting Theano’s plans back significantly. Under the guise of a researcher backed by Akanthus, he goes to meet the Champion of Ravenloss.
I don’t imagine greenguard kingdom having the same foods as middle ages monarchy-ruled europe but I like thinking about dkath still having the same taste from back when he was a kid. So when Ty tries the ice cream at swordhaven castle, she feels like it’s literally frozen perfume (which it kinda is, heavy cream plus orange blossom water) but smuggles some out to give to him.
she thinks he looks so rough but oh what a delicate boy, used to eat perfume milk, baked pears, and cUSKYNOLES (literally fruit ravioli) when he was a baby. Really he looks rough probably cause he’s tired all the time. Ty just loves it. “What’s a Fritter of Milk?” “Huh? Oh that’s fried cottage cheese. hey. why are you making that face? Is it funny or something, stop that!”
On the other hand, dkath things Ty’s tastes in things is too sweet. He doesn’t hate sweet (except when he’s trying to be super manly, oh sweets are for children and girls) but Ty loves sickly sweet. The stuff that makes your blood feel congealed if you eat a little bit.
She’s like a little kid but since she didn’t get anything as a little kid, Ty’s making up for lost time and dkath really likes the stars she gets in her eyes when she gets something special from him. And he makes grand promises about her only needing to sit on a pile of pillows and eating sweets when he’s King. Then he gets embarrassed over ty asking if she gets to have him sit on her too.
Related to this, Ty can’t cook cause she’s too nervous about accidentally making poison. She ends up cooking things until they’re gray to be extra safe. It’s not that Drakath wants to cook but he doesn’t want to eat sterilized sludge.
Still gets shy when Ty leans on the counter to watch and complain that she wants to sample, or bugging him about how he keeps tossing almonds in literally anything (the nut were thickeners in the dark ages and the sentence is funny now)
Or if sugar and spices aren’t a common thing in greenguard--
Ty starts smiling when dkath throws a fish on a skillet, and then her eyes stop smiling when he dumps honey on it.
Drakath: Don’t make that face, it’s good! You just have a peasant’s taste!
Except it’s not cause he barely knows how to cook, and now it’s just weirdly sweep cod.
I made these as a way to compile all the geographical vocabulary that I thought was useful and interesting for writers. Some descriptors share categories, and some are simplified, but for the most part everything is in its proper place. Not all the words are as useable as others, and some might take tricky wording to pull off, but I hope these prove useful to all you writers out there!
Summary: A Thorn spy decided to torch the research they did on the Espina Rosa's newest inmate, setting Theano's plans back significantly. Under the guise of a researcher backed by Akanthus, he goes to meet the Champion of Ravenloss.
Chapter 1/???
AO3 Link
The Rose were planning on sending three researchers to the Espina Rosa to examine a peculiar prisoner versed in forbidden magic.
One of those researchers had been a hidden Thorn, quietly recording what Jaania had her nose in, and sending it to Theano. The very last package he would ever send to his Commander was a pile of ash.
Theano theorized from the researcher’s letters steadily declining legibility that some epiphany had gripped him. Those forbidden passages had whispered nonsense into his ears, and he torched himself, the other two researchers, and all of their discoveries.
“I would rather rend the flesh from my own bones than watch Theano or Jaania destroy all life on Lore.”
Scowling at the scorched ramblings of a dead man, Theano roughly flipped through the bundle of papers that had survived the blaze. The cracked and blackened pages no longer held anything of value. They were merely proof of time wasted.
The incident had set his plans back significantly and taught Theano that if he needed to have something done, he had to do it himself.
“Commander,” One of his men spoke in a hushed voice. “They’re opening the gates.”
Framed in white brick, glowing a ghostly blue from the runes that gave the fortress its name, the huge doors slowly swung inwards.
Inside was complete darkness, only pierced by the blue flames deeper into the prison. Shadows danced behind them, like ghosts lurking in wait. The two disguised Thorns beside Theano rooted themselves to the ground, if not backing away at the imposing sight.
“What are you? Children?” He grumbled, stepping into the pitch-black hall.
His shoes clacked against the floor, nearly drowning out the grating voice of an idiot yelling like their mother had forgotten them at the market.
“You must be the desk-rats,” They greeted Theano quite politely. “Private, get the lights before our guests wet themselves.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the lights came on, Theano was displeased to see that he had to tilt his chin up to look at the brick wall of a man. He imagined his brain held the same thinking capacity of one too. They grinned at Theano, the corner of their lip twitching at his nonplussed reaction.
“Normally, stick-people aren’t allowed to play doctor on our inmates. If you did, I’d need more janitors than soldiers. Especially with the newest beast they wrangled. Broke three of who I thought were my best,” The man’s tone dropped to a dark level. “But if General Akanthus himself gave the order, I suppose I have to welcome you to the Espina Rosa. I am Sofist. Head Officer and Jailer.”
Looking past Sofist, Theano found a Rose soldier in spectacles that resembled his own fake pair.
“Does he know how to read?” Theano asked, and the soldier’s jaw dropped open. In the corner of his eye, Theano noticed Sofist face turning purple. His fists were tight by his sides, saying what the useless hole in his head couldn’t. “No, then?” The Thorn’s Commander motioned for his minion to pass him their documents. They nervously scurried to him, making sure Theano was in between them and the terrifying minotaur.
“These are—” The soldier began.
“Our identification, approval from General Akanthus, and the procedures he wants you to follow to make our work go as smoothly as possible,” Theano shoved the paperwork into the soldier’s arms. He didn’t care for groveling, even when he was wearing a standard Rose uniform. If he was found out, this would be on Akanthus for not doing a proper job of providing them cover. “The General will hear of any incompetence handling these instructions. Make sure the cow doesn’t eat it.”
Grabbing the soldier’s shoulder, Theano moved him out of the way and walked ahead.
“Clarence, Rand.” Theano called the other two researchers by their fake names.
Sennidy kept his head down, and Tariche pressed his tongue against his cheek looking at Sofist fuming, sticking close behind their commander.
“Wait! Please wait! No!” They heard the Rose soldier’s begging coming from behind them, increasing in desperation the further they went. It was apparent that the soldier was talking to Sofist anyways.
Somehow, none of the guards milling about decided to stop them from going where they pleased. In fact, they seemed to flinch away at the strict aura surrounding the Thorns. By the time they were well into the barracks, finding themselves in the canteen where the soldiers had their meals, Theano noticed how most of them were severely injured.
Broken limbs swathed in casting, ugly gashes and cuts, dark bruises and burns, and defeated faces. Theano was surrounded by weakness and to top it off, Sennidy had decided to break down.
“Sir?” He squeaked, sweat already beading on his brow. “Wouldn’t it be wiser to ah be more polite since we’re staying here for the long term. If we get found out, er I mean, if we’re too rude to the wardens --”
“—Then there are numerous ways to silence a snitch,” Theano turned, grabbing Sennidy by his collar next to a table a soldier was having lunch at. They continued chewing on their bread, having flashbacks to their family suppers. “See this?” He flashed a small key at Sennidy. “Opens any cell in the prison. Only Jaania, Akanthus, and that cow has one. And now, so do I.”
Sennidy swallowed, and Theano noticed that his brown hair became matted so fast when he was nervous. With his knees shaking so hard, Theano found him to resemble a skittish horse. Easy to put down if his magical and scientific expertise ran out.
“I don’t know what might be hiding in those cells, and I don’t care. But you should.”
Sennidy nodded rapidly at him, and after he dropped the shuddering coward, he glanced at Tariche.
“What about you?”
Tariche spat into the sitting soldier’s food.
“Nope.” He said, ruffling the soldier’s hair. Their nerve shattered and they scurried off to find a corner, just in time for Sofist’s assistant to track the trio down.
His arms were sagging, having run all over the fortress to find them after he respectfully wrangled his superior.
“You can’t just—”
“Try again,” Theano glared at him, waiting for him to be useful.
“I…Let me introduce myself, I’m Brad—”
“Try again.”
Behind his still lips, Theano noticed the private clenching his teeth.
“If you would follow me.”
After they had dropped their personal affects and other supplies in their provided rooms, Brad skipped the touring and lead them straight to their objective.
The Espina Rosa had three floors. Beasts were held captive in the first, petty criminals in the second, and the third was not to be spoken of. That would be difficult considering the trail of carnage leading to its door.
“Watch your step.” Brad said, crossing a small fissure on the floor. The soldiers he included in the small detail escorting the researchers cringed at Tariche picking up a fifth tooth from one of the many cracks in the walls.
From the ceiling to the floor, the cracks fractured and crossed over each other like a huge web. The damage was fresh, judging from the whimpering coming from the cells. Theano figured they had been witnesses to the Rose’s incompetence in handling a single body.
“The inmate you are about to meet was going to be placed in a cell on the second floor,” Brad explained, reaching the door to the prison’s worst. “After we finally got him under control, Sofist wanted to have him buried instead. Placing him on the third floor was a compromise we came to with High Command. If he causes any more trouble though…”
Theano barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Of course Jaania would compromise, but no matter. The creature they had chained up in the bowels of the prison would serve his plans well.
“The third floor itself is extremely dangerous, and should only be accessed when you are accompanied by the elite patrol.”
“Why?” Theano asked. “To give me an extra three seconds to escape while they get eaten alive?”
“S-sir.” Sennidy whispered, noticing their guards’ carefully contained hatred.
“Well,“ Brad ignored the insult and checked his magic agenda. “Going from the provided documentation, two of you are going to meet the prisoner and the remaining will accompany me to sort prior research.”
“I’ll go with you,” Tariche volunteered, to Sennidy’s dismay. “What happened to the last people that talked to him?”
“You’ll see.” A guard stated darkly.
“Right, I wish you the best of luck.” Brad nodded at Theano with zero sincerity, heading off with Tariche.
With them gone, Theano tapped his shoe impatiently.
“Go on, then. You can waste anyone else’s time but mine.” He tilted his head at the door.
Eerily silent, the soldiers had the sigils on the door’s lock rotate, clicking and vibrating until the gate lifted from the ground. The stone arch let out a gust of wind that swirled at their feet, cooler and sweeter smelling than the beach that surrounded the fortress.
Whispers, softer than a touch of a feather, hissed and abruptly fell to nothing.
Unfazed in the slightest, Theano descending into the purple corridors behind the group of soldiers. They were much larger than the first and second floors’, the shapes of its walls expanding and contracting as they traversed the maze. It felt more like they were delving into the innards of a leviathan than the bottom of a building.
But even here, the new cracks were showing, pulsing with unseen energy whenever the visitors looked away.
“His cell was supposed to be the closest to the entrance” A soldier muttered, looking up the flight of steps they had come to. “Stairs this time?”
“What do you mean, this time?” Sennidy demanded, his question going unanswered.
The head of the pack waved at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Go ahead,” He cast a not so subtle glance at his fellows. “Monsters are more prone to wandering the ground. We won’t let them climb up. Good luck with your examination, and do mind the other cells.”
The barely hidden threat made the Commander of the Thorn roll his eyes.
Disregarding the soldiers, and Sennidy’s whimpering, Theano took the steps. They grew in height, shrank, twisted into odd angles, and it felt like they looped certain spirals several times but he didn’t care. Sennidy was already wheezing and the soldiers below were becoming suspicious, watching Theano fair better than most seasoned guards, and he didn’t care. Monsters snarled and roared as he passed their cells, and he couldn’t even muster brief curiosity.
This phenomena and ghostly wonder didn’t mean anything to him. They were just annoyances screaming for attention they didn’t deserve.
At the end of the passage, where the bruised metallic bars of a small jail cell fought to stand straight, the prisoner there would prove to be the same.
He sat on the ground, against the back wall. As opposed to the faint light illuminating the rest of the floor, this corner was completely dark. The lone lights came from the blue glimmer of a magic-restricting collar, and the ever so faint glow of the prisoner’s red eyes.
Checking his burnt papers, Theano read the inmate’s name aloud.
“Vaal?”
It bounced off the walls, echoing in a way that made it sound like a crowd was saying his name. Vaal waited until the voices finished calling to him before he deigned to look up at his visitors.
There was a change in pressure in the corridor, pressed down by the intense loathing behind those red eyes. Sennidy felt his knees being crushed under his own weight, and Theano briefly wondered if he had pronounced the name wrong. Not that it mattered.
“Are you awake?” Theano batted the bars of the cell with his papers. “Get up before I make a request for a cattle prod.”
Infuriatingly, the prisoner kept quiet. Theano could see him staring and made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Sennidy was mouthing frantic warnings at him but it went right over Theano’s head.
“I am—” Theano glanced at the papers again. “—Kenin, and on behalf of the Rose, I will be questioning you in order to evaluate how much of a danger you pose. You will give me answers if you have any sense of self-preservation.”
Slamming his fist against the wall, Vaal made room shudder. Sennidy just about collapsed.
“Threats? You’re threatening me? Faked hospitality didn’t work so they resort to sending me rats,” Vaal laughed. “Did you see what I did to this pit? To those ants in armor? To the whelps that used to wear the same garb you do?”
Narrowing his eyes, Theano moved closer to the bars.
“I’m asking questions. Not you.”
Incensed, Vaal rose to his feet. In the dimmest light, his shadow cut an intimidating height. He was easily a head above Theano, which irked him the same way that bull did.
“You should already know my might, my wisdom, and how many splinters I could break you into.” Vaal slowly came up to the bars separating him from his prey, the ripped chain links dangling from his collar clinking as he moved. “I am the Champion of Ravenloss, and I have suffered no defeat.”
Standing at just a safe enough distance from the bars, Theano’s composure remained unchanged; stagnant in the face of death. He saw the damage, and he wasn’t a drooling idiot like everyone in this tedious nightmare was.
Rather, he was exasperated over how no one knew where their place was. Vaal should know now that he was trapped, there was nothing else to do but give up and make Theano’s life easier.
“We are interested in the so-called forbidden magic you claim to be a master of, along with chaosweaving, a champion of some backend slum, and oh what else?” He turned to Sennidy.
“G-godhood.” Sennidy stammered, inching his way backwards.
“Really?” Theano sneered, the briefest speck of amusement instantly stamped out by Sennidy’s sniveling. “Get over here, I can barely hear you.”
“Yes, sir.” Sennidy reluctantly came to his side, and Vaal paused in his rambling.
He was right on the threshold now, and Theano could see his scarred and rugged face. The gruff man wasn’t just a sudden anomaly; he had seen his share of battles and, if he was to be believed, an endless string of victories.
Scanning the metal bars, Theano choked back a snort. Oh yes, he did believe this washed up piece of driftwood.
Sennidy did the same, more to make sure that there was no chance of being minced with Vaal’s bare hands. He squinted at the corner of the row of bars, seeing something strange but was too afraid to get any closer.
“Anyways, if you cooperate with us, the Rose will be lenient with you,” Theano continued. “Know that you are already in a precarious situation. Any further disobedience will result in your neutralization.”
For a moment, Vaal kept quiet, leaning against the bars with his arm braced across his forehead. He looked Theano directly in the eye, and saw nothing. No emotion. No fear.
“I’ve met someone with gold eyes before,” Vaal mused, nodding deliberately. “What do you actually want?”
“Don’t interrupt me.” Theano tsked, skimming through the newer documents to see where he should attempt to start. “There will be preliminary questions,” Theano talked over him. “And if you would settle down, blood samples will be collected as, hm, unobtrusively as possible.”
The sharpened shank jabbed right at his heart at an almost inhuman speed. Theano managed to knock it out of the way with the vambrace hidden under his sleeve, but not before it slashed open the thin material protecting his chest.
Swinging wide, the crudely made weapon, a loose cell bar carved to a point, hooked into Sennity. Catching on the space between his ribs, right under his arm, the shank made blood spurt as Vaal gaped at Theano.
They were sharing a mutually astonished stare as Sennidy screamed and struggled to escape. Theano still had his arm up, temporarily frozen over how he narrowly avoided getting maimed, and Vaal, finding that there was more going on than he had realized, curled his lips into a grin.
The prisoner yanked on Sennidy and his shrieking collapsed into a hoarse cough when he slammed against metal, and an arm reached between the bars crushed his throat in a choke hold.
Theano watched Sennidy’s shoes scrape on the uneven ground, beginning to slip as blood flowed into a small pool under his heels.
Vaal squeezed harder, and Theano could swear he could hear the skin on Sennidy’s neck stretching and snapping at its breaking point. His eyes were bulging and gradually, his futile scratching at Vaal’s arm was getting weaker.
“What did you say your name was again?” Vaal asked casually.
This was nothing to panic over. Theano couldn’t understand why his throat had gone dry.
“Kenin.”
“No, no. You aren’t in league with my last visitors. They popped like over-ripened berries,” Vaal began to tip Sennidy’s head at an odd angle. “Your real name.”
How dare he? How dare this worthless vagrant try to bully him into submission. No, there was still salvaging this.
Straightening his posture, Theano readjusted his coat, lifted his chin, and said “Wor—"
Turning Sennidy’s head ninety-degrees, Vaal dropped his limp and lifeless body to slump on the ground. Theano’s lie dropped into silence, his shoulders slumping as the potential problems this would cause him started to pile.
“Look at you,” Vaal laughed. It was a deep and sonorous sound that invaded every crevice of the corridor. “Did I kill your colleague or did I dump your science project in the loo?”
“What have you done?” Theano frantically checked over his shoulder and anywhere a rose soldier could be hiding. “Do you have any idea how much work I have to –” His hand flew to his forehead, gripping his hair as he glowered disdainfully at the corpse.
He had to get rid of it. The weakling that turned himself into a candle had burned the preliminary research on Vaal for a reason. If any of the Espina Rosa’s overseers knew that Vaal had done this, Theano would lose any chance of perfecting his research.
Thinking quickly, he knelt to grab the dead body. It refused to budge, Vaal having pulled its arm into his cell. With the hand trapped firmly under Vaal’s boot, the corpse was going nowhere.
Chest heaving, and struggling not to snarl out of frustration, Theano quashed his fury for the time being. Feeling Vaal’s gaze bearing down on him, he rose to his feet, standing near chest to chest with the brute.
“You aren’t a part of this Rose,” Vaal stroked his chin, jumping to such a conclusion all too fast. Unfortunately, it was partly correct. “Stealing from them? Ah, would be a shame if you had to scurry along without getting what you needed—” He slid his hand through the bars again, gripping Theano by the collar. “—from me.”
“You want a deal?” Theano ground out.
“I only strike deals with someone that has a name.”
Biting down hard to keep himself from gnashing his teeth, the Thorn’s commander decided to concede.
“Theano.”
Dipping his chin, Vaal considered the name and Theano himself, dropping the man’s collar and spreading his hand over his chest. Feeling the skin under the gash he made in Theano’s armor, he discovered that he hadn’t drawn blood.
“That name…” Vaal said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Raising his brow at Vaal’s sudden thoughtfulness, Theano grimaced as the chains on the man’s collar clattered against each other from a chuckle bubbling in his throat.
“I had an ex with that name.” He shoved Theano hard, almost sending him sprawling to the ground.
There was no time to put the prisoner back in his place. Theano didn’t know whether or not the soldiers at the base of the stairs heard the idiot screaming. He took Sennidy by the ankles, and Vaal stepped off of his hand, watching Theano drag the corpse away.
“Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow,” Vaal saluted, sitting back on his steel framed bed. “I’ll be waiting, Theano.”
This time, it was his name echoing through the corridor. Theano would have never believed that he could hate the sound of his own name so much.
It’s Mermay!! And this thing has no big plot, just a slice of life deal cause me and ry were talking about our OCs being mermaid princesses. Sometimes you should just talk about room decor, vague references to a bigger story that I have neither the time or skill to write :”
Hades wound himself around the Princess’ tower in his full Leviathan body, pushing his nose past the curtains into the highest bedroom. Legends sung of how he could fill the deepest trenches with his humongous form but he argued that he might be able to if he had a big lunch. The way he was now left spaces where the sun could touch the ancient stone.
The deep-sea Leviathan, Liberta, took up that space and nestled his chin on top of Hades’ head between his horns.
“Do you have to be this close?” Hades asked when Liberta started to stick his head into the window too. He knew they wouldn’t be able to get out without taking the wall with them.
“No.” Liberta stated, glancing at the other window he could have used to peek at the Princesses. Realizing that Hades was a little bit longer than he was, the white-scaled sea dragon stuck his tongue out to get an edge on his midnight counterpart.
On the large cushion made for five, Ryunn and Takaiko sat beneath the transparent canopy that once served as the bell of a large jellyfish. Constellations were woven into its delicate skin, glittering across it’s numerous string-like tentacles serving to cut the girls off from malicious intent.
They were appointed monarchs, allowing them to swim through the stingers without worry. If a shrimp accidentally crossed the threshold, the last thing it would learn was what evisceration was like.
On numerous occasions, Hades would take Ryunn by the collar poke his nose past the stingers to tuck the workaholic into bed. They ticked him, because he was a monster. The fact that Ryunn’s new friend could do the same worried him.
Perhaps slightly less than Takaiko’s own sea dragon trying to see if he could pick Hades’ nose with his tongue.
“I like your castle a lot more than mine.” She said, balancing a bright pink coral growing from the confines of its scallop shell flowerpot.
An array of bright seaweeds and anemones happily swayed and bloomed all over the room. The newest addition to Ryunn’s nursery was a refined lavender xenia, nestling into the chambered obsidian nautilus shell Takaiko brought from the depths as a gift.
Ryunn offered it back to her but Takaiko shook her head. As opposed to the lustrous pattern of gold-dusted blue pearls decorating Ryunn’s white hair, Takaiko had hers tied into the bio-lights of anglerfish.
Takaiko pinched one of them, saying “This isn’t the sun, they won’t survive. All of the pretty things should stay here.”
“That’s not true,” Ryunn said, flicking her tail to reach an empty rope basket hanging from the ceiling. Takaiko rolled on her stomach to get a better view of the sun making the other princess’ scales sparkle bright enough to shine through her long dress. “Sometimes, the clouds block the stars in the sky but when I look down to the valley where you live, the stars there never stop shining.”
“Those are hunting lights,” Takaiko shimmied closer to a plate of surf clams, popping the chewy snack into her fanged mouth. They caught on the shellfish’s gummy body; unaccustomed to prey that didn’t rely on thrashing and biting to survive. “But if you think they’re pretty, they’re doing a good job.”
“Oh…” Ryunn trailed off, hands brushing over the thick shell of the deep sea nautilus. It had to be thick to withstand the intense water pressure in the Midnight sea. The Apho sea was blessed with sunlight and gentle waves. Scars like the kind Takaiko had crisscrossing over her scales and stomach were virtually unheard of. “You have it hard…”
“Untrue!” Takaiko protested immediately, catching her friend looking. “I just have to keep the Abyss from eating up more of the ocean floor,” Otherwise known as the worst parts of her personality stuffed behind a sealed gate. “You though--” She bundled her long sash tighter around her waist in an attempt to keep her robes from slipping when she shot herself at Ryunn’s tail.
Pressing her face into the vivid scales, she listened to Ryunn frantically giggle that she was ticklish, unable to stop herself from squirming. There were no scars, despite Ryunn’s perilous responsibility.
Likely, if she was as reckless as Takaiko, Ryunn would disappear. No scars to show for missing skin; the Princess and her people would be taken, leaving not a trace.
“You have to keep Death out.”
Out of reflex, Ryunn glanced out the window at the endless emptiness beyond the walls of the reef. For now, the shadows just belonged to the clouds.
Finding that Takaiko was clinging to her tail like a worried guppy gripping their pillow, Ryunn released the shelf and let them both sink to where her vanity mirror stood atop the wide flat plates of a table coral.
“It can’t just be bad things out there. Look at this,” Ryunn lifted an inverted box. The ancient jewelry underneath spilled into a wide pile as a strange furry brown ball floated to the underside of the topmost shelf. “I found this after a big storm swept over the castle a week ago. There were lots of these attached to this stiff seaweed with big wide leaves that I’ve never seen before.” She offered the ball to Takaiko.
Taking ahold of the scratchy thing, the deepsea princess found that it was buoyant.
“None of my retainers knew what it was. At first, we thought it could have been an egg but it isn’t warm.”
“Eggs are supposed to be warm?” Takaiko asked, holding the ball to her nose. “Huh, I can hear pulses but I didn’t know eggs were supposed to be warm. If that’s true, there’s no blood flow, no twitching, so why does it smell good?”
The sunlit sea princess blinked at her friend, clamping her arms to her sides.
Of course Takaiko would have a stronger sense of smell; it was dark where she lived.
“Have you thought about opening it?” Takaiko asked, knocking on the shell to check if it was hollow.
The reason Ryunn was crossing her arms was because she had been playing catch with herself when Hades had almost swallowed it when he tried to play with her.
“I might have thought about it.” Ryunn wondered if a small knife could cut into the shell. Or a big rock could work.
“Make your pet bite it open.” Liberta suggested, overhearing the girls.
“I’m as much as a pet as you are literate,” Hades curled his lip, annoyed at Liberta using his tail as a backscratcher. “And if it isn’t an egg, what if it’s poisonous?”
“What if you weren’t a wuss?”
“What if we all got along!” Ryunn quickly interjected, noticing Hades gnashing his teeth. “I can open it.”
“Really?” Takaiko swam back, giving Ryunn some space.
Confused for a moment, it didn’t occur to Ryunn that Takaiko was staring, expecting Ryunn to rip the shell open with her bare hands.
Saying that she would need a tool to pry the strange object open would take three seconds but Ryunn felt put on the spot. Oh dear, was this a normal thing that monarchs could do? Her fingers would break before she’d be able to tear it apart. Even with clams, she needed to soften them in warm water. Gosh, could she use her teeth?
Though Hades was weighed down by a sleepy idiot, he knew Ryunn would instantly regret having a gap between her front teeth. He pretended to sneeze, shooting an icicle into the shell and it burst open.
A milky substance erupted from the crumbling shell, enveloping the princess in a thick white cloud.
Takaiko had been right. The contents did smell nice, but for some reason, Takaiko was screaming.
“It’s not an egg!” She slammed into her friend, knocking her to the floor. Placing a protective hand over Ryunn’s mouth to keep the milk from seeping in, Takaiko blurted “AAAAHG, are these spores!?”
Hades eyes snapped wide and he wrenched his head further into the bedroom. The wall crumbled as he instinctively threw his head over Ryunn to wall her off from the nasty sperm sack. His chin flattened both her and Takaiko, muffling their shouts and leaving cracks in the tiles.
Meanwhile, Liberta was nosing the broken pieces floating on the ceiling.
“Don’t touch that!” Hades yelled at him, recoiling at the freak darting his tongue out to touch the congealed white substance stuck to the sides of the broken shell. “I SAID DON’T TOUCH THAT.”
Liberta figured out that it wasn’t an egg or spore pouch, but he liked how Hades was freaking out so he made gross licking and slurping noises until the vanity smashed against the side of his face.
How about I talk about Tykath for a bit when I want to talk about it all the time?
In relation to the previous talk about Drakath, I believe that he would see many supernatural creatures as an infection festering in his Kingdom. Many of them have slighted him in some way. The lich Sek Duat has been feuding with his family since forever, the Frydae vampires were doing the same, Sepulchure treats him like a dog that’s too stupid to even learn how to sit, and I bet if given the chance the fairies would throw rocks at him for being a prick. Overall, I wouldn’t be surprised if Drakath took it further than only seeing supernatural creatures as a tool, and outright hated all of them.
amandla
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
dailybridgerton
