heads will roll

S O M N I A R 3000+. dark elf. royal inquisitor pick him out my teeth baby, i'm a butcher and this is a meat and greet

[sweetirons]

Condor S02E10 

[sweetirons]

[starlvrd]

Max Irons for David Factor, 2013.

[halliserres]

[sweetirons]

[inquisitcr]

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

@felandcris

[chvrlesmelton]

Max Irons in The Riot Club trailer

[sweetirons]

[felandcris]

Felandaris & Somniar, Fortress to the High Sorcerer

"For too often with these very powerful individuals, their true gift is a curse: they are simply not bound by decency, and their ruthlessness that so many praise is to the detriment of those around them. They are foul beyond expectations."

w/ @inquisitcr

13 Spires

Towering into the skies above the Court, the Thirteen go as low into the Underdark below as they do into the sky over the Otherworld above. Patrolled by the Illithids under Somniar's control, deep within the bowels of the drows' fortress, the Elder Brain, under the Inquisitor's control, is kept alongside the adolescent leeches Somniar is raising. Accompanying the myriad of illithid creatures are the wizshades, the specters of sorcerers caught in the backlash of their own magic that has left indelible impressions. The spires leading down into the Underdark branch into sporadic catacombs spanning miles. The grottos and chambers below are abundant with flora and fauna unique to the Underdark, well studied by the drow sorcerers under the Architect's regime. Located at the summit of each tower are the Astral Gates powered by the mana that the pillars are specially designed to channel from the stars above and the paragon below. Subjugating the soratami held the final piece to completing The Astral Gates constructed by the Architect, bridging together different realms beyond the reach of the World Tree. The thirteen spires' walls are alight in a purple hue, and raw and primal mana runs through the veins of the architecture, making magic limitless and accessible to those who study within the halls. The Prime Tower, however, is exclusive to Felandaris and Somniar unless expressly invited within.

Interior

Within the interior of the Prime Tower sits a throne for Felandaris to hold court over the sorcerers under his command. About the table, the heads of the respective schools of the arcane built from the fundamentals of Menzoberranzan gather to debate, inform, and discuss. The spires are littered with ritual chambers and research areas, but within the Prime Tower is the most expansive arcane library across the Continent. Filled with writings from the soratami, restored works from the elves, proto-drow, daemonfey, fiends, goblins, and other resources painstakingly gathered over thousands of years of construction. Within the prime are pools of mind leeches soaked in brine pumped up from the hidden chambers of the Elder Brain below. Here in the observatory, Somniar and Somniar alone care for and tend to them.

Temple to the Dark Seldarine

A temple is dedicated to the nine members of the Dark Seldarine in the ninth tower, on the ninth level below the surface level. In the Underdark below, nine tunnels feed from the nine stairwells that all bring the sorcerers of Felandaris' guild to the gates of the Dark Seldarine. Reserved exclusively for the sorcerers, about the spacious chamber are statues to the Dark: Keptolo: Consort of Lloth and god of ambitious male drow seducers, hedonism, beauty, and fertility. Kiaransalee: Goddess of undead, necromancy, and vengeance. Malyk: God of chaos, rebellion, and wild magic. Eilistraee: Goddess of beauty, dance, song, freedom, moonlight, swordwork, and hunting. Ghaunadaur: God of all things subterranean, jellies, oozes, outcasts, rebels, ropers, and slimes. Selvetarm: God of drow warriors and slaughter. Vhaeraun: God of drow males, evil activity on the surface, territory, thievery, and arrogance. Zinzerena: Goddess of assassination, illusion, and lies. Lolth: Goddess of assassins, chaos, darkness, drow, evil, and spiders. About the sorcerers' guild, worship of the various members of the Dark Seldarine are venerated. Long dead, those who once faded long ago in Lloth's absence have begun to whisper back to those willing to prove their devotion and the ambition to take the power they are rightfully owed.

Personal

Within the Prime Tower, the highest echelon of the tower are untouched by anyone but Felandaris and Somniar Baths drawn from the rivers of the Underdark below, a fluorescent biome of rich organic life with the stars painted above. Finery drapes every surface, silks spun from the threads of rare and poisonous spiders, and ritual chambers dedicated exclusively to Felandaris' secret workings. Bed chambers and finishings mined from the body of the paragon below, mana abundant, and plans kept tightly guarded. A domain of equal parts pain, and pleasure.

[sweetirons]

[felandcris]

It was true that Felandaris was always at his happiest when he was in the Inquisitor's presence; it mattered very little to him what they were doing or how they were doing it, so long as the two of them were together. Felandaris had always transcribed love as some sort of weakness, and perhaps it was, though the sorcerer felt he was at his most powerful when that love was threatened. He'd come to believe that Lloth felt the same way, why else would she have seen all his plans come up victorious?

Boranehn always appreciated Felan's turn of phrase, but what the Architect liked even more than a bent ear was when Somniar would go through the effort of thoroughly silencing him. For a creature like Felandaris it took a great deal to strip his robust verbiage from the annals of his mind, but the Inquisitor had particularly effective means of making the drow momentarily draw nothing but blanks where his thoughts ought to be. "We've talked a great deal, endlessly, in fact." His fingers brushed through the other's hair delicately, a light touch as if to antagonize the man and gode him into that delicious fire that Felandaris was so fond of. "Yet here I remain, lavishing you with my words: throat empty, tongue wagging free."

[inquisitcr]

Talking, talking, talking. It was always so much damn talking with Felandaris. Not that he particularly minded if the Architect decided to speak in his so very eloquent way. He actually preferred it most of the time. However, this was not one of those times. There was always so much more the other could be doing with his mouth instead of just throwing poetry in the Inquisitor's direction. And, with everything that had happened, they just had so much time to make up for. Creatures like them were certainly meant to be alone, but now that they had each other, it would prove all too difficult to let Felandaris go. Still, he brought his lips to the other drow's own. When he pulled them away, he grabbed a fistful of the other's hair in his hand to push him down. "I'd hate to leave your throat empty, darling. That and your tongue are my favorite parts of you." Then again, he was sure he could come up with an entire list. Not right now though. This moment was clearly about him. Obviously.

[felandcris]

Sometimes Felandaris was overcome with an urge to beat Somniar; it was quite different from his relationship with Konstantin though, the demon's regenerative abilities were just fun to toy with. Somniar and him were one in the same in that corporal forms of punishment were akin to foreplay, all forms of punishment were different forms of foreplay, actually. He considered a few options before Felandaris settled on some variation of all three, his touch was light as he graced the exposed bits of bone and sinew.

"You depraved, loathsome peasant." He pushed his thumb past the other's lips to press against Somniar's tongue as he so often did. The drow's hair had grown long, long enough to grab when the situation arose. Felandaris' fingers tightened their grip within the root of the Inquisitor's hair as he spat across his lover's perfectly terrible face. "How many times must we go over this lesson?" Hopefully often and many more, Felandaris, like Somniar, did so enjoy when the other chose to do things the hard way.

[inquisitcr]

An insult or even a slap in the face were both things that Somniar often enjoyed. Well, it was actually dependent upon who was throwing them his way. Most of the time, it was Felandaris though. And, if anyone was going to insult or rough him up and have him enjoy it, it was certainly going to be the Architect. The other had called him depraved more often than not, but it wasn't like he could really find offense in the statement. Ayi'ig had often stated the same. It felt more personal when Felan said it though. Even as it was met with a hand tightening within his hair and the other spitting in his face. People did so enjoy that with him. He was starting to think his face just drew saliva towards it. He'd only enjoy it when Felandaris did so though. Having the other jealous wouldn't benefit him in the slightest.

His thumb lifted to swipe the spit across his skin and to his mouth, a smile gracing his marred features as he did. "We can go over this so-called lesson as many times as I fucking want to." Hands moving to grip the other's waist within them, he pulled Felandaris down to him so that the other's knees were on either side of him. In a quick movement, fingers curled around the other drow's throat to pull him in. "You can do better than that, darling." His other hand lifted to push his fingers into the Architect's mouth to pull it open. "Or do I have to teach you the lesson?" As the question left his mouth, he spit directly into Felan's own. Then he pulled the Architect's hand so that the other's fingers curled around his throat. His own didn't let go of their grip on the drow's throat only so that he could pull him closer. "I'll let you disrespect me just this once."

[sweetirons]

[taraknowless]

[mrpeteparker]

[ironsdaily]

[felandcris]

As much as he did not care what others saw, neither Felandaris or Somniar were for their eyes. He turned in the Inquisitor's lap as he reached over his shoulder and hooked his finger through the other's collar - tugging him roughly to his feet as Felandaris stood and half dragged Somniar through the den of depravity towards somewhere more private. What was it these mortals were celebrating again? Death? Depravity? Saturnalia? Oh yes, Saturn. Felandaris rolled his eyes at the thought of that one, Time hadn't been such a difficult opponent in the end. Six lives seemed like a fair trade, Felandaris would've given far more to return here... However temporary all this might be. Preparedness in the days to come would be key, not even he could predict the gravity in this shift of fate.

Arm bent over his shoulder, finger firmly wrapped under the Inquisitor's collar, Felandaris pushed open a door and sent the lovers who'd occupied the space within elsewhere. Some distant part of the city, buried in the snow with nothing but their nakedness to protect them. Without much effort he pulled Somniar forward and tossed him onto the chaise; this castle was auspiciously designed, sprawling in a maddening way that made its corridors seem infinite. Felandaris wondered what matter of enchantment had sunk into the old stone, or if it's maddening halls were just a preference of its builder. All the same, Felan found himself quite partial to it, almost enough to pay it a compliment. Almost.

Felandaris approached Somniar in fluid strides, something akin to a serpent wandering towards otherwise unsuspecting prey. His boots knocked between the other's so that he could stand between Somniar's knees, Felandaris' fingers threaded through the other's hair as he craned the man's face to take in his mutilated features. Hauntingly beautiful. "Will we do this the easy way, or the hard way?" He tipped Somniar's head back a bit, his grip on the root of the other's hair relentless, "My love."

[inquisitcr]

As to be expected, Felandaris was not to be outdone. Of course, he would always comment on the fact that the man really barely wore any clothing ever. A stiff wind could breeze by and the architect might as well have been naked. It was often difficult not to kill anyone that even glanced in the other's direction on sight. He supposed he didn't need to hold himself back though. Maybe he'd torture them next time. Somniar was sure that the architect would have loved to be a part of that. Even more than that though, there was nothing Felandaris loved more than bossing him around. If the inquisitor were anyone else, he was sure they would've been jumping for joy at the thought of just being near the other drow. He, however, did not like to be disrespected unless he was asked to be. Regardless, there was no way he could deny the way blood rushed down his body at the way the other's fingers curled beneath the collar around his neck.

They finally found a room that Felandaris deemed fitting enough, but of course the other party that had been occupying it had been summoned away. That was unfortunate. They probably could have had some fun with them. Somniar had mentioned how much he would've loved to peel someone's skin off. The thought stayed within his mind as he was pushed onto a chaise and the other's hand fell into his hair to pull his head back. Brows furrowed, he couldn't help the smile that curled the corner of his lips upward. "Have I ever wanted anything the easy way, darling?"