the wildfire rages

Secrets of Neverland {Peter & ?}

The wind whispered secrets through Neverland's ancient trees as Peter Pan perched on a moss-covered branch, his ears catching a sound that didn't belong. Someone had arrived on his island. A slow smile crept across his lips as he dropped silently to the forest floor. It had been so long since anyone new had set foot on Neverland—too long since he'd had proper entertainment. The magic of the island hummed beneath his bare feet, welcoming him home with each step.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, brushing dirt from his hands. "What have we here?"

@josephinesrphub

Dacian stares, unblinking, storm-grey eyes meeting green. "I'll tell you exactly why i can still manage some form of magic here, monsieur." The dome shifts and forms a ball of water, in the palm of his hand. "It's the direct connection to the elements. They blessed my birth. They're still here, just harder to reach."

He drops the ball of water, stepping back. "Which means, I still have the means of defending myself, if I need to. I am also not a pawn. I'm done doing others bidding unwittingly."

He didn't care anymore. He'd already lost his entire coven, and his entire family. And then to end up here and losing the only comfort he had left? He wondered if he should've just let the flames consume him. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. "I ask if you plan to kill me at some point, that you just do it." He huffs. He had nothing if he did not even have his craft. Is there nowhere he can practice peacefully? Maybe he'd attempt the spell again when he was less... occupied. By strange people.

Secrets of Neverland {Peter & ?}

The wind whispered secrets through Neverland's ancient trees as Peter Pan perched on a moss-covered branch, his ears catching a sound that didn't belong. Someone had arrived on his island. A slow smile crept across his lips as he dropped silently to the forest floor. It had been so long since anyone new had set foot on Neverland—too long since he'd had proper entertainment. The magic of the island hummed beneath his bare feet, welcoming him home with each step.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, brushing dirt from his hands. "What have we here?"

@josephinesrphub

Dacian glares darkly at the man as he spoke, and continued to speak. He had to be joking. He used his spell to escape and find freedom, only to be trapped here? "One thing to note, monsieur, is that those with the means can always find a way to use their talents. They just have to bend the rules a bit." His eyes narrow. He would find a way.

First things first, though. Maybe he could play nice for a bit until he can gather his thoughts and figure out what to do. He takes another step back as the man steps forward. Maybe he can adopt fae trickery? Names have power.. "May I have your name, sir? Just so I know what to call you."

He stares the man down, hearing thunder rolling above. Oh. Joy. Wonderful. Rain. It begins pouring down in that moment, soaking the man's clothes. Water was always the easiest to reach out to... Maybe he could try to connect with a direct connection? He places his hands above his head, making a swiping motion. A dome forms over his head, blocking the rain from soaking him. Well. He could do that at least. He wondered what else he could do.

Peter's eyes widened with genuine surprise, then narrowed with interest as he watched the rain shield form above Dacian's head.

"Well, well," he murmured, not bothering to shield himself from the downpour. The water soaked his clothes, plastering his hair to his forehead, but he seemed utterly unbothered. "Perhaps you're more interesting than I thought."

He circled Dacian slowly, studying the magical dome with calculating eyes. "As for my name..." He paused, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. "Most call me Peter Pan."

Thunder crashed overhead, illuminating Peter's face in a flash of white light. His expression was youthful but his eyes held centuries of cunning.

"And you are?" he asked, stopping directly in front of Dacian. "A witch without his powers, far from home, making little rain shields. I'm positively intrigued."

"A witch who needs a direct connection in order to do what I used to be able to do no problem. I just need to better connect." Dacian spoke, eyes on him. "I also seem to be missing my familiar.. She didn't come with me when I arrived here."

"My name is Dacian, I am from Gevaudan, France. So, tell me about this place, Peter. What is 'Neverland'?" Now he had his name, he could try to sink his claws in if necessary, but he doubted with just how powerless he was that he could do that. He had his book.. He just had to find some way to make it useful in this place.

"I can do more than just shield myself from the rain. Or I could. There was a time I could allow elemental spirits control of my body. But that isn't possible here, is it?" He was looking around again, but drew his gaze back onto the Stranger. Something told him not to let his guard down around him. He folds his arms.

His eyes stare, unblinking. "If you own Neverland, and I'm now trapped here, maybe you can help me to tap into the magic here so I can use mine. Or is that part of your Grand Scheme to prevent outsiders from having the means of fighting back? I'm not looking for a fight. I just got out of a trial, I've had enough trauma."

Secrets of Neverland {Peter & ?}

The wind whispered secrets through Neverland's ancient trees as Peter Pan perched on a moss-covered branch, his ears catching a sound that didn't belong. Someone had arrived on his island. A slow smile crept across his lips as he dropped silently to the forest floor. It had been so long since anyone new had set foot on Neverland—too long since he'd had proper entertainment. The magic of the island hummed beneath his bare feet, welcoming him home with each step.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, brushing dirt from his hands. "What have we here?"

@josephinesrphub

Dacian glares darkly at the man as he spoke, and continued to speak. He had to be joking. He used his spell to escape and find freedom, only to be trapped here? "One thing to note, monsieur, is that those with the means can always find a way to use their talents. They just have to bend the rules a bit." His eyes narrow. He would find a way.

First things first, though. Maybe he could play nice for a bit until he can gather his thoughts and figure out what to do. He takes another step back as the man steps forward. Maybe he can adopt fae trickery? Names have power.. "May I have your name, sir? Just so I know what to call you."

He stares the man down, hearing thunder rolling above. Oh. Joy. Wonderful. Rain. It begins pouring down in that moment, soaking the man's clothes. Water was always the easiest to reach out to... Maybe he could try to connect with a direct connection? He places his hands above his head, making a swiping motion. A dome forms over his head, blocking the rain from soaking him. Well. He could do that at least. He wondered what else he could do.

Secrets of Neverland {Peter & ?}

The wind whispered secrets through Neverland's ancient trees as Peter Pan perched on a moss-covered branch, his ears catching a sound that didn't belong. Someone had arrived on his island. A slow smile crept across his lips as he dropped silently to the forest floor. It had been so long since anyone new had set foot on Neverland—too long since he'd had proper entertainment. The magic of the island hummed beneath his bare feet, welcoming him home with each step.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, brushing dirt from his hands. "What have we here?"

@josephinesrphub

The witch kept on his guard, once he heard the voice. Now he knew that he was being messed with!! "Yes, a dangerous witch! I have no issue summoning rats to my aid!" He spoke. He tried to reach out his connection with nature but it was cut quickly off, and he winced. Magic would not be so easy in a place like this..

Dacian turns again, before the man dropped before him. He steps back, not liking the sudden appearance. He swears under his breath in French. "Neverland? I've never heard of such a place!" He spoke. He observes the stranger for a moment. This was the man who was toying with him a moment ago?

"Look, I am not the man you want to be messing with. I was nearly executed for my crimes of being a witch. You do not wish to cross me." He warns, taking a cautious step back. He didn't trust this man. Something about him seemed.. off. He slips his hand into his bag, grasping for a potion. Even if he had no access to his magic, he still had his potions.. Or at least he thought he did? It's gone, now. What...? Unarmed and alone..

He takes another cautious step back, staring the man down. Another reach out to nature... A second later and it's thwarted. He hides the way he's inwardly panicking. What *could* he do? Nebula wasn't even here!

Secrets of Neverland {Peter & ?}

The wind whispered secrets through Neverland's ancient trees as Peter Pan perched on a moss-covered branch, his ears catching a sound that didn't belong. Someone had arrived on his island. A slow smile crept across his lips as he dropped silently to the forest floor. It had been so long since anyone new had set foot on Neverland—too long since he'd had proper entertainment. The magic of the island hummed beneath his bare feet, welcoming him home with each step.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, brushing dirt from his hands. "What have we here?"

@josephinesrphub

#kingoftheneverwoods #👀#IM BACK BABY

The witch was quiet as he woke up, blinking against the sunlight. He had no idea how he got here. The last thing he remembered was the spell he'd used to escape the trial, and then.. Nothing. He groans as he sits up, scratching his head for a moment as he looks around, trying to gather his thoughts as he picks his belongings up from the ground. A spellbook and a few potions that had fallen from his bag.

He must walk. He had to find out where he was. He had no connection to the elements here, it felt foreign. Like he didn't belong. He dusts his clothes off, looking down at his dirty white shirt, and his brown pants. He had on brown slip on shoes and a brown wide brimmed hat.

Storm-grey eyes scanned the area as he walked, looking around. This was all new territory. He had to be careful.. Movement in the trees catches his eye and he looked up, into the trees. "Hello? Who's there?" The frenchman spoke. "I should warn you, I am a dangerous witch." He was trying to ignore the way his voice shook as he tried to sound intimidating.

midnightmurdershow

A Perfect Planet (2021) Episode 03 “Weather” Directed by Ed Charles

#gif warning #flashing images cw

Dacian Livingston is entertaining to Sebastian Michaelis; entertaining as a traveling sideshow showcasing a magician a little too good for his soapbox stage. Dacian is rough, yes, but all diamonds begin that way. Dirty, uncut, nothing more than the result of pressure. With his hand, Sebastian will refine Dacian into something handsome. Precious. A jewel to envy.

Dawn peaks its rosy face over London. Sebastian does not take a moment to appreciate God's work, but he does feel, in a word, peaceful. He is closer to his young master, much closer to the estate. Is this what it feels like to relieve homesickness? Fascinating.

"You shall have to wait and see," Sebastian says. "I do not wish to ruin the surprise for you. Besides, does it matter? You have already signed yourself away. He can assign you custodial duties in the brothel down the street, and you will perform to your best because the only other option is death. But you know this, yes, Dacian?" Contrary to his words, the butler is not intending to be cruel. His love—if he has any—is tough. Barbed. Acidic. A silver chisel to soft, fragrant wood.

Dacian is quiet as Sebastian spoke. It had to be something very important, he figured, to put out an order to take a captured witch out of the custody of guards. He adjusts his bag over his shoulder.

"I doubt he will do that. If I know people, it's that they hardly do something risky without a good reason. Nobody would call for a captured witch unless they absolutely needed to. He'll probably ask to see what I can do." He drums his fingers against the covered book in his bag.

Still, he had no idea why an earl would want a witch. It didn't matter though. Sebastian was right, The Earl of Phantomhive could assign him whatever duties he wanted, because to deny it would be death.

When they arrive at the estate, Dacian gives pause, looking up at the elegant mansion. He felt slightly out of place, here. He follows the butler to the door, in silence. It was quiet. It'd been too long since Dacian had experienced 'quiet', and it felt odd, now. "Where to next, Sebastian?" He asks.

Dacian was quiet as he walked, listening to the demon's words. Join him or die. Wonderful. "If my choices are to live or die, then I shall choose to live. Always." He finally responds. "No matter what sins I must commit to live, they are nothing compared to the executioner's hand. I know I'll face my judgement one day, but today will not be it."

"i will do it. But only to preserve my life as long as possible. I will not let my efforts to protect my coven be in vain." He looks up again, at the demon. "Nebula will be rejoining me shortly. I sent her out to seek something from my home."

When they approach the fishing boat, the fisherman looks at Dacian warily. Dacian says nothing, staring him down. He'd let Sebastian handle this. He looks up as he senses Nebula above, and holds his hands out, catching the book in his hands. Perfect. He slots it into his bag, without a word.

It would be a long boat ride, so he needed something to keep him occupied until arriving in England. Maybe there's a spell in the book that can heal his more extreme wounds. He'd need rest, first, though.

For the first time tonight, Sebastian smiles approvingly at Dacian Livingston. That fierce determination in his eyes, the resolution in his young voice… that is what the demon likes to see.

“Excellent,” he praises. “You will fit seamlessly into the young master’s brilliant design.”

The fisherman is skeptical of Dacian. Indeed, he seems to recognize him, and he might have sounded the alarm if Sebastian didn’t coo to him in French. The fisherman accepts the pouch of silver and weighs it as Sebastian elegantly climbs onto the small fishing boat. It does not rock so much as an inch under his polished black shoes.

“Come quickly, Dacian,” Sebastian calls. “We only have so much moonlight.”

He notes the giant tome without looking at it once.

The boat ride to England was uneventful. It took them several days. He had offered to speed their time up but was denied the opportunity. So instead he opted to focus on his healing. He waves his hand over the side of the boat, pulling water up to his hand. He balls it using his magic, muttering a soft spell under his breath. The water clears up, seemingly purifying itself. He shifts his hand, expanding the water and allowing it to move across his body. "Sana.." he whispers, and it begins glowing, healing his wounds.

When they make landfall, the water returns to where he pulled it from, and he seemed a bit tired but healthier than he was. "It wouldn't do to approach your master while injured. First impressions matter." He tells Sebastian. He stands, when they dock, climbing up onto the dock and looking over to the city. London. The last time he was here was when he was with his mother.

He takes a shuddering breath. He was free. Well. As free as he could be with a debt to be repaid. He'd have to thank this 'Ciel Phantomhive' for saving him. He looks over at Sebastian, gripping his bag closer to him. "What 'design' does monsieur Phantomhive have in mind for me?" He finally asked, now that they're out of earshot of the fisherman.

Dacian looks up at the demon, before nodding a bit. He understood. The path was cleared ahead, now. "Imperium is one hell of a potion." He mutters. "If I ever see my brothers again, I'll be sure to thank them for including imperium in my bag."

When they're outside into the night, Dacian takes his first full breath of fresh air. It'd been too long. The entire town was pitch black. Perfect night for an escape. "Where shall we go? If the Queen of England wishes for my capture, surely there's something nearby she's prepared for us." He'd let the demon take the lead. He hated being in a demon's debt, but it was that or be executed in the morning. Nebula comes and lands on his shoulder.

Dacian reaches up, petting her, gently, before murmuring to her. She flies off without a second thought. He watches her go. She'll be back. She will always find him. He looks back to Sebastian, awaiting instruction on where to go. "So, elaborate further? What exactly does the Queen of England want with a captured witch? Does she know a demon is employed?"

Miles of water separate England and France, but that's nothing a clandestine boat trip cannot fix. Truthfully, Sebastian would prefer to swim across, but it is rather quaint to bribe a fisherman and sail off into the midnight fog. Sebastian finds he quite enjoys the quaint nowadays.

"If you have questions, I suggest you keep them to what most ardently applies to you and your survival," Sebastian advises, already leading the way to the docks. He does not confirm whether the Queen is aware of Sebastian's true nature, but the lack of answer may suggest that it is not a topic Dacian should so flippantly discuss. "As for her Majesty, she does not wish much for you. Simply put, I believe your execution would be her preference. However, my young lord disagrees. He likes potential, especially if it is his to shape."

Red eyes deign to peer over an inky shoulder. Sebastian is so dark, he blends into the shadows of the slumbering street. "Walking with me is tantamount to your acceptance. Will you pledge yourself, body and soul, to Ciel Phantomhive? Or am I returning with sad news of your avoidable demise?"

Dacian was quiet as he walked, listening to the demon's words. Join him or die. Wonderful. "If my choices are to live or die, then I shall choose to live. Always." He finally responds. "No matter what sins I must commit to live, they are nothing compared to the executioner's hand. I know I'll face my judgement one day, but today will not be it."

"i will do it. But only to preserve my life as long as possible. I will not let my efforts to protect my coven be in vain." He looks up again, at the demon. "Nebula will be rejoining me shortly. I sent her out to seek something from my home."

When they approach the fishing boat, the fisherman looks at Dacian warily. Dacian says nothing, staring him down. He'd let Sebastian handle this. He looks up as he senses Nebula above, and holds his hands out, catching the book in his hands. Perfect. He slots it into his bag, without a word.

It would be a long boat ride, so he needed something to keep him occupied until arriving in England. Maybe there's a spell in the book that can heal his more extreme wounds. He'd need rest, first, though.

The witch absolutely had more than fireworks. He was patient this far, though. "One with the shadows, then." He spoke, softly, and looks thoughtful, as he glances around. Something here had to be of use. He looks to Nebula, who had flown out ahead of them.

He's quiet, seeing a pair of guards ahead, blocking the main doors out. He glances around. No immediate exits.. They needed to be dealt with. He stands behind the wall, opening his bag again. He pulls out a potion, and peeks around the corner, before throwing it at their feet. It was a liquid with a sickly green color. Instantly, the floor began rattling, a lot of squeaking being heard.

Rats were commonplace in the jails, Dacian knew. And that's exactly what he was counting on. He steps under the torch, pulling Sebastian with him, as rats came out of the little holes in the walls.

"What the...?" The first guard spoke, backing away from the horde of rats at his feet, stepping under a torch as well. The rats wouldn't cross it. Dacian peeks again, seeing this. Fine, then. The witch pulls out a different potion, handing it to Sebastian.

"Aim for the torch and throw the potion. The light will go out and the rats will attack." He instructs, voice quiet, as he watches the situation. The other guard hadn't been so fortunate as to get away. Eaten in seconds.

What delicious chaos Dacian is brewing. Sebastian appreciates that, although he's not sure he appreciates the ordering around. Only one child may be so bold as to command the demon, although he supposes Ciel's order to retrieve Dacian and ensure his safe travel to England involves being as amenable as possible.

Still... Sebastian likes being a show off, too.

Handing the potion back to Dacian, Sebastian says, "I figure these potions of yours take quite a bit of time to make. Let us not be too hasty in using them." With a snap of his fingers, the torch flame at the end of the hall blows out.

The hallway, tight and dank and writhing with rodents, is swallowed up in the darkness. The rodents, compelled or perhaps in league with Dacian, descend upon every obstacle, every enemy, until nothing is left for them to destroy.

Dacian looks up at the demon, before nodding a bit. He understood. The path was cleared ahead, now. "Imperium is one hell of a potion." He mutters. "If I ever see my brothers again, I'll be sure to thank them for including imperium in my bag."

When they're outside into the night, Dacian takes his first full breath of fresh air. It'd been too long. The entire town was pitch black. Perfect night for an escape. "Where shall we go? If the Queen of England wishes for my capture, surely there's something nearby she's prepared for us." He'd let the demon take the lead. He hated being in a demon's debt, but it was that or be executed in the morning. Nebula comes and lands on his shoulder.

Dacian reaches up, petting her, gently, before murmuring to her. She flies off without a second thought. He watches her go. She'll be back. She will always find him. He looks back to Sebastian, awaiting instruction on where to go. "So, elaborate further? What exactly does the Queen of England want with a captured witch? Does she know a demon is employed?"

Dacian watches the butler collect his bag, and smirked. He picks it up as it was placed before him, and looked to the chains binding his wrists, pulling out a pouch of powder. He pours some on his chains, and the metal fell, off of his wrists. Then he looks to the cell door, throwing the powder at the bars. Instantly, the metal began melting. He threw more powder, and the door melted completely, leaving a gaping hole for him to walk through. And walk through, he did. He looks to Nebula, who flew after him.

He looks to the demon, putting the pouch back into his bag and putting the bag on his shoulder. "Lead the way." He tells the demon. He knew this was enough of a message to get the point across. He was nothing if not patient, and by the time they found the empty, destroyed cell, he'd be long gone. In England, far away from France. Not that they'd know where he went. He'd heard witch trials had fallen out of style in England, so he hoped it would be safer.

Sebastian hums. It is difficult to impress him, but he respects the witch boy’s showmanship. Hopefully, Dacian has more grit than his sparkly, explosive powders; he will need everything he has and more to survive in England. To survive anywhere, really.

The butler slips past, inky tail coats fluttering like twin tails. “I hope you’ve more than fireworks in your bag,” Sebastian whispers, opening the door beyond the cell in such a way that it cannot even think to whine about it. “We must be stealthy. Quiet as church mice.”

A deep chuckle. “Or perhaps cemetery mice. Whichever suits you.”

The witch absolutely had more than fireworks. He was patient this far, though. "One with the shadows, then." He spoke, softly, and looks thoughtful, as he glances around. Something here had to be of use. He looks to Nebula, who had flown out ahead of them.

He's quiet, seeing a pair of guards ahead, blocking the main doors out. He glances around. No immediate exits.. They needed to be dealt with. He stands behind the wall, opening his bag again. He pulls out a potion, and peeks around the corner, before throwing it at their feet. It was a liquid with a sickly green color. Instantly, the floor began rattling, a lot of squeaking being heard.

Rats were commonplace in the jails, Dacian knew. And that's exactly what he was counting on. He steps under the torch, pulling Sebastian with him, as rats came out of the little holes in the walls.

"What the...?" The first guard spoke, backing away from the horde of rats at his feet, stepping under a torch as well. The rats wouldn't cross it. Dacian peeks again, seeing this. Fine, then. The witch pulls out a different potion, handing it to Sebastian.

"Aim for the torch and throw the potion. The light will go out and the rats will attack." He instructs, voice quiet, as he watches the situation. The other guard hadn't been so fortunate as to get away. Eaten in seconds.

"going home isn't an option anymore." -dacian @elementalxfury

For the Damaged | @elementalxfury

“I know that feelin’,” Jett answered, “all too well.” It felt like it had been eons since he’d last spoken to his immediate family, let alone lived with them. Not that he wanted them back. He’d given up on his parents because he knew full well that they didn’t give a damn about him. His mother would sooner beat his ass than let him come back, and his father would likely be too drunk and lethargic to even get up and open the door. Something told him that this man’s situation was a bit different, however. Something in the way he carried himself.

“Well, if you can’t go home, then you’re more than welcome here,” he declared with a soft smile, gesturing to the cabin behind him. It was somewhat small, despite being two stories, and rather rustic, fitting in well with the forest scenery. An old Chevy truck sat in the gravel driveway, faded blue paint spotted with rust. A fire pit and woodpile were positioned a few yards away from the house, with two large logs positioned on either side to act as benches for whenever Jett felt the urge to roast marshmallows. Overall, a pretty cozy place, tucked away on the outskirts of town, the Blue Ridge Mountains serving as the perfect backdrop. “Do you want somethin’ to drink, or maybe a hot meal? I was just about to whip somethin’ up, and I wouldn’t mind havin’ a guest, unexpected as you are. Why don’t you come on in and take a load off? Rest them weary bones for a minute?”

Dacian was exhausted. That was certain. He's been running for so long, using magic where he could to get further.. his body craved rest. So when this kind man offered him some food and rest, who was he to say no? He definitely needed it. He looks up at the bird perched on the railing to the cabin. Nebula. Ever the vigilant guardian. The raven looks at him, and gestured towards the door with her wing. An instruction to rest.

So Dacian follows the man to his cabin, tugging a bit at the cloak around his shoulders. He aches to take it off and relax. Maybe this man would allow him a hot bath. "I'd love something to eat, monsieur. I've been on the move for so long.. i crave a hot meal. Is there anything I can do to help?"

“Help? No, no, please, you’re my guest. I ain’t gonna make you work for your supper,” Jett answered with a slight laugh. “You just have seat, make yourself comfortable.” Upon hearing confirmation of the mystery man’s hunger, Jett flitted off to the kitchen, only to poke his head back into the living room a moment later, a thoughtful expression written on his face. “I probably should have asked earlier, but do you have any food allergies or preferences? I was plannin’ on makin’ spaghetti and garlic bread, but I can change it up, if need be.”

Ironically, the last thing the necromancer wanted was a dead body in his living room. He was a caring person, and would feel horrible if his guest wound up choking or going into anaphylactic shock or something. Sure, he knew CPR, several magical ways of theoretically reviving the man, but he’d prefer if things didn’t get that dire.

Dacian sits in a chair as the man told him not to worry about having to help with making supper. Good. Good.. He could feel his eyelids drooping a bit as he relaxes into the chair. He blinks, as the man got his attention, though. "Um.. No." He spoke. "No allergies. And I'm not picky about my food intake." Anything would help.

He looks over at the man. "Is there a way I could use your wash room while you cook? I'd like a bath. I've been running for so long.." He crosses his arms over his stomach, bringing himself to his feet. They also ached, after running for so long.

“Hmm?” He’d ducked back into the kitchen after getting confirmation that nothing he could cook would accidentally kill the man, but upon hearing Dacian’s request, he paused. “Oh, yeah, you’re good! Do whatcha gotta do. It’s gonna take me a while, anyway. I make almost everything from scratch,” he bragged, smiling to himself. “Guest bathroom’s on the other side of the stairs. It should still be stocked with towels and such, but holler if you need anything.”

With that, Jett set about preparing everything. Spaghetti was one of his favorite comfort meals, so he practically had it down to a science, though magic did help. He’d even stocked up on necessary ingredients earlier that day, so he had more than enough to feed himself and his new acquaintance. Meatballs were the first thing to be prepared, as they were the most time consuming part. Ground beef, diced onions, bread crumbs, and Jett’s own custom blend of homegrown spices were tossed into a bowl with just a handful of shredded mozzarella and carefully mixed together, and with but a thought, a large pot was filled with water and levitated over to the stove. The burner under it was lit with a muttered word. A light tune hummed from Jett’s lips as he worked to scoop and carefully roll globs of the meat mixture into decently sized balls, placing them onto an oiled and floured baking sheet. They went to the oven to bake when he was done, and he turned his attention to crafting the sauce.

Jett’s recipe for spaghetti sauce was something he’d worked painstakingly to perfect over the years. He only ever used fresh ingredients, either from his garden or from the farmer’s market in town, and was constantly looking for new little things to add and take it to the next level. Recently, he’d found a lovely Chianti wine that he was excited to try with it.

Dacian begins walking to the washroom pointed out to him, and decides to stop by the kitchen first, needing a change of clothes for after his bath. He stops, cold, seeing the use of magic so blatantly used.. He blinks, processing this information. "Have the trials not reached here?" He asked, finally, after a few moments.

Was he safe here? Could he stop running? "Sorry, I.. I originally came here to ask for a change of clothes before I made it all the way there and realized I had no clothing to change into." He crosses his arms over his stomach.

He almost didn't want to believe it. Another witch, but this one was free from the trials. Could enjoy life by himself without worry of others intruding and ruining his life.

#quaintnecromancer

"going home isn't an option anymore." -dacian @elementalxfury

For the Damaged | @elementalxfury

“I know that feelin’,” Jett answered, “all too well.” It felt like it had been eons since he’d last spoken to his immediate family, let alone lived with them. Not that he wanted them back. He’d given up on his parents because he knew full well that they didn’t give a damn about him. His mother would sooner beat his ass than let him come back, and his father would likely be too drunk and lethargic to even get up and open the door. Something told him that this man’s situation was a bit different, however. Something in the way he carried himself.

“Well, if you can’t go home, then you’re more than welcome here,” he declared with a soft smile, gesturing to the cabin behind him. It was somewhat small, despite being two stories, and rather rustic, fitting in well with the forest scenery. An old Chevy truck sat in the gravel driveway, faded blue paint spotted with rust. A fire pit and woodpile were positioned a few yards away from the house, with two large logs positioned on either side to act as benches for whenever Jett felt the urge to roast marshmallows. Overall, a pretty cozy place, tucked away on the outskirts of town, the Blue Ridge Mountains serving as the perfect backdrop. “Do you want somethin’ to drink, or maybe a hot meal? I was just about to whip somethin’ up, and I wouldn’t mind havin’ a guest, unexpected as you are. Why don’t you come on in and take a load off? Rest them weary bones for a minute?”

Dacian was exhausted. That was certain. He's been running for so long, using magic where he could to get further.. his body craved rest. So when this kind man offered him some food and rest, who was he to say no? He definitely needed it. He looks up at the bird perched on the railing to the cabin. Nebula. Ever the vigilant guardian. The raven looks at him, and gestured towards the door with her wing. An instruction to rest.

So Dacian follows the man to his cabin, tugging a bit at the cloak around his shoulders. He aches to take it off and relax. Maybe this man would allow him a hot bath. "I'd love something to eat, monsieur. I've been on the move for so long.. i crave a hot meal. Is there anything I can do to help?"

“Help? No, no, please, you’re my guest. I ain’t gonna make you work for your supper,” Jett answered with a slight laugh. “You just have seat, make yourself comfortable.” Upon hearing confirmation of the mystery man’s hunger, Jett flitted off to the kitchen, only to poke his head back into the living room a moment later, a thoughtful expression written on his face. “I probably should have asked earlier, but do you have any food allergies or preferences? I was plannin’ on makin’ spaghetti and garlic bread, but I can change it up, if need be.”

Ironically, the last thing the necromancer wanted was a dead body in his living room. He was a caring person, and would feel horrible if his guest wound up choking or going into anaphylactic shock or something. Sure, he knew CPR, several magical ways of theoretically reviving the man, but he’d prefer if things didn’t get that dire.

#sorry i know this is very late.#tryin to come back to tumblr #i don't expect you to reply to this if you don't want to lol #quaintnecromancer

Dacian sits in a chair as the man told him not to worry about having to help with making supper. Good. Good.. He could feel his eyelids drooping a bit as he relaxes into the chair. He blinks, as the man got his attention, though. "Um.. No." He spoke. "No allergies. And I'm not picky about my food intake." Anything would help.

He looks over at the man. "Is there a way I could use your wash room while you cook? I'd like a bath. I've been running for so long.." He crosses his arms over his stomach, bringing himself to his feet. They also ached, after running for so long.

bloodcoveredsnow

sorry i havent been around guys

ask me for my discord if we're moots

i've been more active there

Dacian lets Dieudonne help him get undressed before he was picked up and placed in the water, feeling the treated water make contact with his wounds. He makes a soft sound as he relaxed, beginning to wash his face. He turned his head as Dieudonne spoke and nodded. He continued to wash himself as the demon left, enjoying the warmth of the water.

He mumbles a small spell, to summon the fire element to keep the water warm as long as he needed it to be warm. Soon enough, he was clean, dismissing the fire element and inspecting his wounds in the mirror. They truly did a number on him, didn't they? At least the bleeding stopped. He could smell food cooking.

He begins wrapping up what wounds he can reach with some bandages, but knew he'd need help eventually. "You said to call you if I needed you.. so.. let's hope this works. Dieudonne, I need help. I need help wrapping up my wounds." He hated interrupting him but he needed his help.

sebaelis-a

dieudonne was silent in the woods, tracking every animals he could find but making sure to not leave some behind. he can't wipe out a population, those animals are needed for the humans to survive and without humans, demons can't survive. such a cruel and vicious cycle.

after the hunt, he had started up making the food. he made sure there was enough vegetables around to use. he'll just have to buy more tomorrow. a shame he wishes to taste it but the smell alone was enough to indicate he's doing okay with the food.

he looked around, wondering what to pair it with. he hums, going for bread to be dipped into the broth. he worked around the kitchen, keeping his mind occupied until that is, he heard his master call. he sighs just as i was almost done.. he made sure nothing will burn while he's away and he vanishes only to reappear in front of dacian.

"my that truly is a number they did on you, master." he takes the wrappings and helps the other.