ꌗꀤꈤˢᶜʳⁱᵖᵗᵉᵈ

i'm a gamblin' Boogie Man-- it's much more fun, i must confess, with lives on the line!

[shad0w-t0ngued]

。·ﾟﾟThe gods turned their backs           so I made a kingdom in the dark. ·。

⋆ pinterest ┆musing tag ┆ playlist ┆new empire⋆

Inspired by: Oogie Boogie (The Nightmare Before Christmas), Sephiroth (FFVII), Negan (The Walking Dead), Ultron (MCU), Damon Salvatore (TVD), Chuck Bass (Gossip Girl), Lestat (IWTV)

full name: orion bartholomew faceclaim: lewis tan dob: september 11   zodiac: virgo occupation: ruler of the underlands / owner of snake eyes casino & architect of the uprising birthplace: hallow falls orientation: omnisexual song: “Wreak Havoc” – skylar grey film: pulp fictioneducation: high school dropout turned underworld tactician. Schooled in betrayal, warfare, and infernal contracts. temperament: choleric-dominant MBTI: ESTP – “the calculated storm” alignment: chaotic Bad abilities: unmatched connections, manipulation, blood-bound loyalty, & a deal sealed with hades himself hogwarts house: slytherin emoji: 🐍

present ‧✦

orion has risen from the graveyard they tried to bury him in. no longer just the proprietor of snake eyes casino, he’s now the ruler of the underlands, commanding shadows, secrets, and sinners alike. the flow moves at his will. the teagues respond to every breath. his grip tightens around the throat of elias from below..the monsters are rising, and orion is leading them home. with hades' power burning beneath his skin and an army of the damned whispering at his back, orion’s no longer content to rule in exile. he wants the surface. the city that cast him out. his obsession with jasper skellington still lingers-..a wound, a weapon, a craving. whether he destroys or devours him... well, even orion hasn’t decided yet.

past ‧✦

once exiled. branded a monster. forgotten by those who should’ve feared him more. so he went underground..and rewrote the story. orion made a deal with death. in return? he got the means to take everything back-..and burn what was left.

future ‧✦

the monsters are no longer hiding. elias will fall..one secret, one body, one city block at a time. and orion will be the one standing when the ashes settle.

taken connections ‧✦

ezekiel bartholomew – estranged brother jasper skellington – former friend / obsession / unfinished symphony serena fain – former friend / ghost in the mirror beckham, logan, sadie Teague – loyal enforcers

wanted connections ‧✦

✦ the oath-breaker someone who once served orion, or made a promise to him, and failed. whether they ran, betrayed, or simply disappeared..orion hasn’t forgotten. and he’s coming to collect. ✦ the corrupted a former hero, vigilante, or moral pillar who has slowly started slipping under orion’s influence. maybe they came to him desperate. maybe they liked what he offered. either way, they’re not clean anymore. ✦ the weapon he made someone orion manipulated, trained, twisted, or magically bound to serve a purpose. their loyalty might be real... or simply another lie he's told too well. ✦ the reluctant informant a blackmailed source or coerced spy. someone caught in a bind..maybe orion saved them once. maybe he’s holding something over their head. either way, they keep his web spun tight. ✦ the cursed mirror someone who’s like him...too much like him. they recognize each other. and maybe that’s what makes them dangerous together… or worse apart.

[pennyhainline]

holiday festivities event starter (00/05)

penelope had wiggled her way toward the front of the crowd at the tree lighting, chin tipped up, eyes wide as the massive evergreen came to life in a wash of golden lights. she let out a low whistle, impressed despite herself. then, with a sly little grin, she nudged the person beside her. “honestly, it’s a tragedy they didn’t hire me to be the angel on top. i mean. look at that tree. look at me. missed opportunity of the century, right?”

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s attention drifted to the tree as the lights bloomed; gold spilling across the square, soft enough to almost pass for innocence. almost. when she spoke, his gaze slid back to her. a smile curved his mouth. dark and knowing. "missed opportunity," he murmured. "though if they’d put you up there, half the city would forget to look away." his eyes traced her with open appreciation "worship has a way of getting… messy."

he leaned just enough to close the space "besides," he continued softly, "angels perched above the crowd tend to fall..and fallen ones?" smile deepened. "now..those are far more interesting."

[1nquirer]

agnes found it hard to understand where orion was coming from. she'd usually make the effort, but lately, she found herself more and more frustrated—ultimately settling with refusing to engage with him meaningfully unless she absolutely had to.

"can you blame people for thinking that way?" she sniped. "it's not like you haven't given them a reason not to."

she couldn't help but frown at the sight of his men either. it only highlighted how citizens had been scrambling to find protection, when one man can have this many bodyguards.

"wow, that's an optimistic outlook on these people's lives," she remarked. "but i'm not stupid either. we take all the help we could get. goodness knows we need it." then, she gestured to his men. "how about you dispatch your men to help the scared citizens?"

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s brows lifted only a fraction at the snap in her voice. not offended but interested. if anything, her refusal to soften seemed to amuse him. "blame them? no. people build stories out of fear. i’ve simply learned not to argue with a good narrative." his gaze flicked briefly to the volunteers nearby before returning to her "corrections.. it rarely comforts anyone."

at her comment about his men, his smile thinned. he tilted his head slightly. "you’re right about one thing, protection is a luxury most of them don’t have." a pause. then, without raising his voice, "spread out. pair off. questions later." the men moved immediately without protest, no lingering. one took crates toward the outskirts, another knelt to speak with a shivering woman near the steps, coats already being shrugged on where they were needed most.

orion watched them go for a moment before looking back to agnes. there was something almost sincere in his expression now, stripped of the performance. "optimism has nothing to do with it," he replied evenly. "winter doesn’t care who deserves to survive it. i do." his eyes met hers again "and since you’re taking the help anyway, i'll consider that a temporary truce."

"don’t mistake cooperation for confusion," he lowered his voice as he spoke in a calm manner "you don’t trust me. that’s fine. i didn’t come here to be trusted."

[1nquirer]

oh, wow. this was the last person agnes expected to see. and just like that, she had her guard up even more (her mood was even soured from the presence). but still, she kept a polite facade. she started with a bitter smile and a curt, "orion."

she couldn't help but eye the canvas bags with skepticism. nonetheless, she said, "i can take them myself." she took the bags and placed them behind the table, hoping they'd be hidden—though, they would still be away from the other clothes. she was already making a mental note to find someone magical after this to assess whether these garments were enchanted or not.

"fancy seeing you out here... and here as well."

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s smile didn’t falter. if anything, it softened, as if he found her suspicion charming. "funny," he said, tone easy "you know i was thinking the same thing."he glanced at the table, the bags she’d tucked away, then back to her. "people always assume i only show up when something’s about to burn," he continued lightly. "but winter’s cruel in quieter ways. figured i’d get ahead of it."

one of his men shifted behind him. but orion didn’t turn,he lifted two fingers and just like that, the movement stopped immediately. "i’m not here to complicate your work," he added, voice dropping just enough to feel the intentional. "just trying to help people who won’t live long enough to care who paid for the coats." eyes held hers, amused, assessing. "but if my presence bothers you," he said gently, "i can keep my distance. the help stays either way."

[bluebxtchhq]

location: dealer's choice, after dark. (2/4)

elias shifted from terror to celebration on the news overnight. every timeslot saved for disappearances had been replaced with father christmas - and chess was confused. it was a bit dark, they thought. chess had witnessed a figure in the underland drink someone's spirit like water and here these humans were ... celebrating the spirit of christmas as if none of it was happening. what did christmas do to deserve such a day?

"and you'll forgive me if i ask what the purpose of this is," chess said plainly as they motioned to a nearby tree strung up with colorful lights. even wonderland knew not to mix foliage with electricity.

[shad0w-t0ngued]

carols bleeding from tiny speakers as trampled snow gray slush, reflected its color it clearly didn’t deserve. there, just beyond the circle he stood, a cigarette idle between his fingers. when he drew in, the ember flared bright, smoke curling from his mouth like it knew where to linger. "christmas didn’t earn all this,” he said eyes sliding from the towering tree back to chess. "they did."

he glanced around the square. at the laughing mouths, hands wrapped in cups, eyes deliberately elsewhere." I’m not here for the decorations," he continued taking a slow step closer lights buzzing overhead."you know..people get flirty with denial when they know they’re being watched..so they dress the dark up nice. call it tradition.pretend it waits its turn." gaze returning to the tree, wires biting into living branches. "it doesn't"

[1nquirer]

open event starter

📍 the charity coat & blanket drive

as much as agnes wanted to get into the holiday festivities, she couldn't—what with the disappearances still weighing on her mind. at least, it looked like everyone else was more wary this time around, unlike how nonchalant they had been during the fall fair.

nonetheless, agnes took this moment to help the community. there were still people out there who needed help, especially with winter coming up. she folded the coats and blankets kind citizens had donated, racking up ways on how she could efficiently distribute them to the homeless.

then, she spotted the person. she didn't hesitate. "you got any old coats you want to donate?"

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion didn’t look up at first. he stood just off to the side of the donation tables, dark blue coat, gloves still on despite the cold. the lights caught the sharp line of his smile as the sound of her voice reached him. "well, look at here." a tilt of his head and his three men, silent and efficient, dressed in dark wool and darker intent all stepped forward carrying heavy canvas bags, setting them down with careful precision. the soft thump of fabric against pavement carried weight: coats, blankets, scarves. clean.well-kept. more than just a token gesture. orion finally turned to face her then, eyes flicking over the stacks she’d organized.

"winter doesn’t care who’s guilty or innocent," he said lightly "and the cold makes martyrs out of people faster than fear ever does." one gloved hand resting on the nearest bag. "top-grade," he added. "so..where do you want them, agnes?"

[coraurion]

Cornelius Aurion was afraid of few things. His father had called it “the heart of a born leader”; his mother had called it very, very stupid. But neither of those attributions, Cor had thought, were quite it; the reality was that Cor loved the world too much to find disfavor with it by being terrified.

The reality was that the world was intriguing to Cor instead of intimidating…vast instead of daunting…beautiful instead of strange.

Orion Bartholomew was, perhaps, a thesis statement on how beauty and strangeness were not exclusive. Orion Bartholomew was the first person Cor had met who—when that familiar “fight or flight” instinct asked the familiar “fight or flight” question—provoked both responses in Cor; Orion, despite igniting a retaliatory fire so hot it hurt behind Cor’s eyes and inside his chest, made Cor take a step back.

Anyone who knew him would’ve also known he was livid. But Orion probably saw Cornelius Aurion as someone out of his depth, playing beyond his league. He probably saw the fear and not the fight.

Let him.

“They get what the casino decides they’re ready to face,” the man who was plainly Orion (if countless descriptions of the man were correct) explained as Cor caught the acrid scent of smoke. Cor, despite a couple conversations earlier to the effect of the casino being very bad news, had suspected something similar; there was something to be had in there, something that uncoiled at the leisure of the casino itself. That in and of itself was a challenge—and Cor loved challenges; but the earlier conversations, particularly the one with the man in the light pink T-shirt, had sobered him—made him conscious of what he had to lose.

Which left Cor trapped between two virtues—his courage and his own self-preservation.

As Orion continued to speak, Cornelius Aurion listened visibly; his posture leaned toward the other man ever so slightly, and his face was one of thoughtfulness—consideration. His eyes, however, were wide. (That was the fight-or-flight. Both urges rolled into one. Let Orion pick which was the dominating instinct.)

(This was Cornelius Aurion, and therefore the right answer would be “fight”.)

“You’re looking for signs, omens…” Orion was saying to him. He was reading Cor like a book. …And then Orion took it one step further, and all but confirmed that he knew Cornelius by face, by species, by identity.

He eyed the wings, and smirked, and Cornelius knew instantly that he would not be leaving the Snake Eyes Casino as he’d all but made up his mind to do two minutes prior.

Orion knew him? (And it was plain that he did—his following statement about “court rules” made it all too apparent.) All right—then Orion ought to also know another thing that wasn’t visible: Cornelius’s obstinance. He ought to know Cor’s strength.

Yes, Cor knew exactly who he was looking at right now—and smiling mildly at, as if he were a friend. (This was something Cor did, for better or worse, when something had gotten under his skin.) Cor knew this man conducted the Underland like an orchestra, hurt the Underland like it was second nature, played with the Underland like it was the only thing on his mind; he knew that Orion Barthlomew, owner of Snake Eyes Casino, was very much stronger than Cor.

But as Cor said, “I think you have me confused with another fairytale prince from another good-for-nothing court,” he realized that he didn’t care.

Because:

“I used to gamble all the time, and my dream scenario was that nobody or their mother thought I’d win. That’s a real fairytale. The kind where there’s someone out there who absolutely hates your guts.”

Cor glanced at the casino; smiled a tad broader (again, a product of Orion having gotten under his skin); glanced back at Orion.

“The Snake Eyes Casino may decide what people are ready to face…but, well, I’ve sat through enough lessons in leadership to recognize a short leash.

“Cards on the table,” said Cor, the smile vanishing. “If I walked in there and engaged in your business, as you’re recommending…I feel as if you’d respect me less. I feel as if you’d hate me more. I feel as if you think you’re above your clientele, and—correct me if I’m wrong, this is entirely based off of hearsay but you know that, too—

“I feel as if the infamous ‘tight ship’ that your reputation ensured I’d heard about…is not an exercise in management, but one in image.” Cor raised his brows. “I was told over and over again that government is an extension of the people’s will, no matter how good or powerful a ruler you are. Snake Eyes will always reflect the idiocy of people who say ‘yes’ to an offer like yours—the offer you just extended to me. Therefore…Snake Eyes is at its best when it looks more like you than them.

“I was asking questions about your noble establishment because—much like you, actually—I need to know that my endeavors will meet me halfway.” He paused, staring at Orion blatantly. “Of course, you know I’m not doing this for me. Of course, you don’t care.

“But do me one trivial kindness this evening,” Cor asked Orion, “and don’t make me the person who walks into that casino alone. You hate that person. You run this place to discard that person almost instantaneously.

“Make me the person,” said Cor as he smiled once more, “who’s able to talk to you.

“Why are you watching the exterior of your building?” Cor asked at last.

[shad0w-t0ngued]

cornelius’s answer struck him with a weight he didn't expect. not impressive. not foolish. orion had seen both so often they barely registered anymore. but this.. a man trembling on the precipice of fear and refusing to bow to it? now, that was rare. his attention sharpened with the slow, deliberate. the smirk that curled back onto his mouth wasn’t lazy anymore; it was the beginning of a predator deciding whether the creature in front of him was prey, rival, or something…far more interesting. the neon glow crawled up orion’s throat and jaw like a living, serpentine thing, lighting the edges of him in a poisonous green. where it touched, the shadows clung greedily. possessively. "confused with another fairytale prince?" he hummed "if i were, you wouldn’t still be standing."

not cruel. just true...just fact.. absolute as gravity.

cornelius kept talking...peeling orion apart with unnervingly precise insight. charming. bold. and reckless. like someone who believed he could debate with a wild beast and walk away unscarred. his words landed like velvet-wrapped knives, each one testing exactly where orion’s temper ended and his interest began respect. hate. above his clientele. image.

by the time cor finished, the rain itself seemed to hesitate, slowing into a soft mist as if the world were leaning closer to listen. orion did too.not close enough to crowd. just close enough that cornelius felt the shift in heat, that faint, rising warmth that always came before blue flame. "you think walking through those doors would make me respect you less," he murmured. a beat of silence. followe by low laughter. "oh, cornelius." green neon cut across their faces, splitting shadow from light his voice dipping lower, almost indulgent. eyes glinting "those who follow rules...court’s or mine. fade into the background."

he let that settle.

"i watch the outside," he murmured, fingers ghosting along the railing, "because the inside always tells the truth. people assume the danger waits behind the doors." his eyes lifted. pinning cor gently. "it doesn’t." a step..not toward him, but to the side, offering space like the slow opening of a trap. "danger," orion continued, voice dropping to a purring heat, "is in the moment someone decides to step inside. i like to see who they were… a breath before they change." then, softer than smoke: "but tonight?" a curl of lips as he turned fully toward cornelius, "i was watching you."

[plutoundertaking]

closed for: @shad0w-t0ngued

———  it  was  always  said  that  the  tell  tale  sign  that  hades  was  around  is  if  you  felt  warmth  at  the  back  of  your  shoulders  or  noticed  serpents  and  crows.  these  signs  occured  when  he  was  reaching,  calling  in  the  night  like  a  haunting  lullaby.  the  burst  of  flames  that  knocked  down  the  doors  of  snake  eyes  was  not  that.  it  was  a  warning. black  smoke  bellowed  out  as  the  blue  flames  died  down.  it  slithered  across  the  floor  of  the  casino,  darkening  everything  in  its  path  to  make  way  for  the  god  who  summoned  it.  not  long  after  hades  emerged  from  his  theatrics.  the  heat  coming  from  him  was  so  scalding  that  his  coat  spark  as  the  friction  of  the  fabric  met  the  wood,  threatening  to  ignite  again.  nothing  needed  to  be  said.  the  patrons  of  the  casino  immediately  filed  out  and  avoided  hades  at  all  cost.  the  few  stragglers  who  couldn't  move  fast  enough  were  escorted  out  by  pain  and  panic. the  only  two  competent  companions  of  hades. as  his  eyes  settled  on  orion,  hades  looked  at  the  man  with  a  glare  that  could  that  was  sharp  as  a  scythe.  pointed,  direct,  deadly.  his  fingers  snap  and  soon  a  chair  came  screaming  against  the  floor  until  orion  was  shoved  in  it.  the  metal  of  the  arms  weeping  as  it  altered  under  hades'  heat  changing  from  something  solid  to  apparitions  of  the  souls  that  laid  in  his  river.  their  cries  of  agony  rang  through  snake  eyes  as  they  held  orion  hostage  in  the  chair. ❛  there's  been  a  lot  of  talking  going  on  in  elias.  somewhere,  someone  got  sloppy  with  my  reapings.  ❜  said  person  had  been  taken  care  of  immediately.  he  made  a  nice  trophy  to  hades'  ever  growing  collection.  ❛  you  know,  i  thought  i  was  hearing  it  wrong  but  word  got  back  to  me  that  a  certain  councillor  and  his  mutant  pet  are  aware  that  you  have  powers  now.  and  i  couldn't  help  but  think  ...  that  no,  you  wouldn't  be  that  stupid  to  threaten  my  entire  operation.  ❜  the  contemptuous  undertones  in  his  words  couldn't  be  masked  with  hades'  usual  sarcastic  cadence.  his  fists  clenched  as  the  souls  pierced  into  orion's  skin  like  knives. ❛  then  i  remembered  who  i'm  talking  to  and  oh  yeah,  you  are  stupid  enough  to  risk  my  entire  operation  over  that  bag  of  bones  you're  so  obsessed  with.  what  made  you  think  that  going  to  elias  and  threatening  a  councillor  was  going  to  work  in  your  favor  ?  they  had  no  proof  that  i  was  behind  all  this  and  you  gave  them  a  crumb  that  they're  following  straight  to  my  door.  so  you  better  start explaining  as  to  why  you  fucked  up.  ❜

[shad0w-t0ngued]

the casino still flickered with the aftermath of hades’ arrival. snake eyes was a ruin of scorched velvet and cracked mirrors, the chandelier above them hanging crooked crystals melting at the edges from the heat that still radiated off the god in waves. cards curled and blackened on the floor. dice had fused into glassy lumps. every gold-trimmed surface had softened into molten edges, as though the Underworld itself had been poured into the room. and orion…he looked wildly out of place, though it all. his suit charcoal silk with midnight stitching should have burned under hades' blaze. it didn’t. the jacket hung open just enough to show the black-on-black dress shirt beneath, collar loose, cuffs rolled with deliberate laziness like he’d been preparing to play a game before the god decided to kick in the doors. smoke curled around his lapels, kissing the fabric but never consuming it as though even the fire knew better.

his hair, usually immaculate, had been mussed by the force of the blast. a lock hung over his brow, framing eyes that glinted like loaded dice cold, amused, and interested in all the wrong ways. the souls gripping him screamed. the chair trembled. still orion lounged in it as much as a man being restrained by damned spirits could lounge with ankles crossed, posture maddeningly casual, like he was being inconvenienced at a spa rather than pinned under the wrath of a god.

he let Hades finish his tirade, then he dragged his gaze slow..slow.. across the god’s silhouette, from the scorched hem of his coat up to the blue flames licking at his jawline. orion smiled. not a polite one. but the kind he reserved for problems he found attractive.

"gods," he murmured, voice slipping into a low velvet, "you really know how to make an entrance." orion hissed softly but didn’t look away. "i mean it," he added, chin tilting, eyes tracing the flames haloing hades like a lover’s hand. "storming into my casino..sending everyone running...throwing me in a chair. you do realize some people pay extra for this kind of attention." a soul stabbed into his shoulder; he swallowed but his smile only deepened. "but you didn’t come to flirt," he continued, tone cooling into something razor-sharp, pupils narrowed like a predator watching something larger, stronger and still interesting.

"relax," he said quietly, "you’re gorgeous when you’re furious, but not very logical." orion leaned back, making it look intentional. "your operation isn't threatened" his eyes flicked up to hades mouth..brief, reckless.then back to his eyes with a smirk. "and the councillor? please. park didn’t need me to connect dots he was already tracing. and jasper.. well.." a shrug that shifted the souls latched to his ribs. "yes..i used your gift. but just because i wanted him to understand something he was too arrogant to see..that even the scraps of your power," he said, "are strong enough to make the world tremble."

the temperature spiked; orion’s breath fogged instantly from the clash of cold and heat around him. "but here’s the part you won’t like..i didn’t do it to embarrass you."

his gaze softened..dangerously "i did it because you made me powerful." words said in a low hum dark and admiring. "and jasper needed to understand exactly whose leash he was trying to yank."

[shad0w-t0ngued]

snake eyes glowed like a mirage in the late afternoon haze..neon serpents coiling up the walls, their light bending strangely in the rain-slick pavement, as if the building itself exhaled illusions.cornelius wasn’t the only one standing just outside its radius. from the upper balcony..half concealed behind tinted glass and a carved lattice of gold-steel..orion had been watching him. not long, but long enough to notice the hesitation. the folded wings. the way cor looked at the entrance like it was a mouth he wasn’t sure wanted to bite or bargain.

orion liked watching people decide whether to cross a threshold.he stepped down from the balcony with the kind of movement that didn’t disturb the air so much as convince it to shift around him. a reflection caught him first..his silhouette materializing in the glass doors just as cor asked the passerby his question.

"people don’t get what they want here." orion came to stand beside him, close enough that cor could smell smoke and the faintest metallic note from the casino’s enchanted lights. "they get what the casino decides they’re ready to face." he said was an invitation or a dare. orion’s eyes glint with something that looked almost alive as the neon serpent blinked overhead, throwing green fire across the other's cheekbone.

"saw you studying the building," he murmured, angling his head just enough. "most people glance once and rush in. you’re looking for signs, omens, a place to breathe before you step into something volatile." his gaze traveled deliberately, unhurried to the hidden wings beneath the leather jacket. a faint smirk followed. not mocking but just highly aware.

he let his fingers brush the cold railing beside them, as though grounding himself in the moment. "perhaps walking into a place that doesn’t bend to court rules..is all you need"

[1nquirer]

"aw, orion, i'm glad to be of service. never say i never do anything for you," she said. as much as she couldn't help it, there was no time for the two of them to exchange quips. there were more pressing matters at hand.

but agnes had to annoy orion one more time. she shook her body, like a dog drying itself, causing the puddle underneath her to grow even more. then, she added, "ah, so you're saying if you wanted someone gone, you'd be sloppy. leave that to you, i guess."

she let out an exasperated sigh. "no one told me to go to you. i operate on my own accord. but people have been saying things, and you haven't done anything to dispel the rumours." she didn't want him to know that she had no idea where to start the investigation. she only knew him from the underland.

"so, spill—who's doing this? your reputation is on the line, isn't it? casinos are no good without its patron... and they're going missing."

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s brow twitched..not quite a flinch but more of an acknowledgment that she’d decided to shake water all over his imported rug. the puddle crept toward his shoes like it knew better than she did. "sloppy?" he repeated once more, letting the word sit between them brittle and dangerous. "oh agnes, if i ever become sloppy, i do hope someone does me the mercy of putting me down."

his gaze slid over her, unhurried but sharp. "you operate on your own accord. congratulations." a faint thin smile. “unfortunately, independence doesn’t make your information any less… stale."

he leaned forward now, elbows resting on his knees, the cigarette forgotten but the air between them tighter. "i don’t chase rumors. i let them starve." he paused for a second "but you...coming in here dripping like a stray mutt with a martyr complex..you want to believe them. you want me to be guilty because it makes your job easier." his eyes narrowed, a shadow of something colder slipping in.

"patrons go missing every year. elias chews people up more effectively than i ever could. so unless you’re accusing the city itself, perhaps ask a better question."

[shad0w-t0ngued]

the garage seemed to hold its breath.the only sound was the tick of cooling metal and the slow drip of oil from the undercarriage, a metronome counting out something neither of them said aloud. orion stood where the light couldn’t quite reach him. when he finally spoke, his voice cut through the stillness, low, deliberate. “careful, logan. you make it sound like you’ve been thinking.”

the words came with a small, humorless smile that never touched his eyes. “if you start thinking too loudly, people begin to wonder which side of the leash they’re really on.” he moved a little closer, not enough to threaten but just enough for the air to change again, charged and heavy. “you talk about obsession as if it’s a weakness. I call it focus. everyone’s devoted to something. you build engines. I build empires. same disease, different tools.”

[locknteagues]

The  corner  of  his  mouth  twitched,  not  into  a  smile  more  like  something  bitter  trying  to  crawl  out  and  getting  stuck  halfway.  Thinking,  Orion  had  said.  Like  it  was  dangerous.  Like  Logan  should  be  afraid  of  the  sound  of  his  own  mind.  “Guess  that’s  the  thing  about  building,”  Logan  said  quietly.  “Whether  it’s  engines  or  empires,  you  gotta  live  with  the  mess  when  something  breaks.  You  don’t  get  to  just  walk  away.”

He  turned  just  slightly,  finally  meeting  Orion’s  gaze  across  the  dim  space.  “I’m  not  the  one  who  forgets  what  I’m  working  with.  Machines  don’t  lie.  People?  They  get  used.  Bent.  Burned  out.  And  you?  You  don’t  build  people,  Orion.  You  use  them  until  they  forget  they  had  a  choice.  Obsess  until  you  believe  your  own  lies.”

The  words  weren’t  loud  but  he  was  sure  they  landed  with  weight.  Logan  exhaled  through  his  nose,  jaw  tight.  “So  yeah.  Maybe  I  am  thinking.  Maybe  it’s  time  I  stop  pretending  this  leash  doesn’t  cut  both  ways.”  He  stepped  away  from  the  car,  but  only  enough  to  put  space  between  them,  just  enough  to  breathe,  not  enough  to  run.  “So  if  you  came  here  to  remind  me  of  your  place  at  the  top…  maybe  remind  yourself  why  it  is  you  have  to.”

[shad0w-t0ngued]

the drip of oil hit the pan again tick but orion’s expression didn’t change, but something in the room did. a drop in temperature. like the garage itself was holding its breath for what he’d do next. he didn’t move at first. didn’t lash back the way most men with power did when someone pushed at the edges of their authority. instead, he let silence spool out between them, slow and taut, like thread pulled between sharp teeth.

then he stepped forward, just once. not enough to close the distance. just enough that the shadows folded around him like they knew him well. “you think i walk away from the mess?” his voice was soft, wrongfully so, the kind of softness that made the hairs at the back of the neck stand up. “logan… i am the mess.” a faint laugh “i don’t get to leave what i break. i carry it. every crack. every ruin. every person who mistook proximity for safety.” his eyes dragged over logan, slow, considering, like he was re-evaluating the shape of him. “machines don’t lie,” he echoed back, “which is why people build them. control them. simplify the world into something that obeys.” a beat. “but people? people are complicated. unpredictable. beautiful in their failures.” the smile he gave now was small, dangerous, almost tender. “and i don’t use them, logan. i choose them. there’s a difference.”

“but you...” his gaze sharpened, pinning him where he stood. “you talk about leashes like you aren’t the one who tied yours to me. i didn’t drag you into my orbit. you stepped into it. again..again. and again.”

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s presence didn’t just arrive. it settled. like a shadow taking its rightful shape. he stood behind donnie without a word at first, eyes raking over the mess of tomes and notes. when he finally spoke, his voice carried none of the lazy amusement he used in friendlier company.

this was colder. weighted. personal.

"so this is where you scuttle off to," he murmured, tone low enough to make the hairs at the back of donnie’s neck stand on end. "hiding under mountains of paper like a rat in the walls."

he moved around the table finally, the dim light catching the faintest hint of a smile, but there was nothing kind in it. nothing soft. just teeth hidden behind civility. "jasper must be thrilled," he added, voice thin with venomous amusement. "he’s always had a soft spot for lost causes."

[donniehamctos]

Donnie didn’t so much as turn around at first. The chill in Orion’s voice did all the heavy lifting. It rolled across the space like frost, familiar in that unpleasant, intrusive way that made Donnie’s jaw clench before he even processed the words. He gathered the nearest set of notes in a slow, deliberate motion because if Orion wanted a reaction, he wasn’t going to get it. Only after a beat of silence did Donnie speak, voice low but clipped. "Better a rat with a purpose than a vulture circling what he couldn’t control."

He looked up at last, eyes meeting Orion’s across the cluttered table. Where Orion’s smile held venom, Donnie’s held precision no warmth, no flare, just a scalpel’s edge of disdain honed over too many nights spent preparing for people exactly like this.

"You think everyone in the room is a pawn, just waiting for your next move." His head tilted ever so slightly, the light catching the edge of the cracked coffee cup beside his arm. "Let me save you the effort. I’m not. And neither is he."

At the mention of Jasper, the weight behind Donnie’s eyes shifted. No more banter, no deflections, just quiet, firm fury. "Jasper doesn’t need your commentary. But I guess crawling out of whatever hole you’ve been in to toss poison at the people you couldn't break is just your version of a social call."

Donnie’s fingers tapped once against the table, over a map marked with vanishing routes and underland paths. He didn’t move toward Orion, didn’t stand, didn’t flinch because he didn’t need to. Because in that moment, everything about him said: I’m not afraid of you. "So if you’ve come to rattle cages, try someone else. I’m busy finding the people your chaos left behind."

[shad0w-t0ngued]

the lamp above them hummed like an insect caught in the amber glow.. its glow turning every stack of papers into long, skeletal shadows. dust motes hung unmoving in the air. it was as if even they were afraid to drift too close to him.

orion absorbed donnie’s words without flinching. the vulture stab, the jasper fury, the righteous fire simmering under every syllable. he stayed silent. didn’t interrupt. didn’t laugh. he just… existed. and the room bent around that existence.

slowly, he stepped forward, boots echoed against the old stone floor. he glanced at the map spread across the table. the frantic routes, the desperate ink trails. "purpose," he repeated softly, the word curling through the air like smoke. "such a delicate thing to build a spine out of."

he dragged two fingers across the map, not disrupting the papers. just touching. lifting his gaze back to donnie with a stillness that made the lamp’s hum seem suddenly louder. "you’re not a rat with purpose." his tone colder. "just a man trying to put a leash on a labyrinth."

he leaned against the edge of the table, the wood groaning as though even it wanted distance from him as he spoke " you think I circle for scraps?..you really think everything slips beyond my reach by accident?"

a sliver of a smile. thin and sharp. "donnie… i leave things alone because i get bored, not because i get beaten..don't you know that already?"

[mavisvaduva]

open starter, location mun's choice. (0/5)

mavis was in her own world. she wasn't sure how to feel after her talk with logan. people were disappearing that was true. but, was orion really a big part of it... could she really not handle herself? she had to make money. she had to do something to provide. it didn't matter what he had told her. she knew the truth was money means food and food means another day. she didn't notice the other as she was deep in thought. she just wanted to go on like things were normal... or as normal as they could be for the underworld.

"huh?" she asked finally noticing the other's voice, "sorry-- i wasn't listening what did you say?"

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion paused mid-sip the moment she admitted she wasn’t listening. the glass hovered just below his mouth, untouched, as his eyes lifted to her with that unsettling, unreadable calm. he set the drink down with a soft, deliberate sound- not angry, just final and stepped closer. close enough that the hum of the casino floor faded behind him.

"i asked if you planned on working today," he said, tone sharp but quiet, "or have you’ve forgotten who keeps you employed?" his gaze swept over her... just exacting. seeing the truth she was trying to hide.

"you can’t afford to drift, mavis," he went on. "not down here. the underland smells distraction like blood in the water."

"and you wandering around my floor half-present?" his jaw tightened. "that’s not just your problem. that’s mine."

[1nquirer]

it was probably a bad idea for agnes to return to the underland. she barely made it out the first time—and the only reason she did was because she had help (although agnes wouldn't admit that outright). however, with the rumours of people going missing, agnes had no choice but to investigate. people deserved answers.

the first place she went to was snake eyes. slipping between the crowd, agnes weaved her way to orion's office. with how easy it was to get there, she knew he let her in.

"is that a jab at me?" she hissed. "because i refuse to listen." she popped down the hoodie of her poncho, ignoring how the raindrops trickled to the floor.

not mincing her words, agnes got to the point, "people are going missing. you had anything to do with that?"

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion didn’t look up at first. didn’t even twitch, he just let out a low exhale, the smoke drifting toward the ceiling like a warning that hadn’t decided who it was for yet. "if I wanted to jab you, agnes, you’d feel it."

he flicked his eyes to her, slow and unimpressed. "for the record…" he ground the cigarette into the serpent tray with a pointed calm. "you telling people to avoid my establishment? that’s the closest thing we’ve had to entertainment all week."

he leaned back, elbows braced on the armrests, studying her like an inconvenience that had somehow learned to speak. "you barge into my office dripping rain, accusing me of… what? kidnapping half the city?" a faint scoff. "if i wanted someone gone, agnes, they wouldn’t be missing. they’d be found."

he tilted his head, tone cooling. "so i’ll ask you once, and only once: who told you to bring this little accusation to my door? " his gaze sharpened as he spoke, deadly quiet now.

[donniehamctos]

* // open starter for ⤫ : everyone

Donatello Hamato sat buried somewhere beneath a precarious stack of textbooks, grimoires, and hand-scrawled city maps that looked like they’d been salvaged from several centuries ago. The table was barely visible. A nearby librarian was eyeing him with the kind of concern reserved for natural disasters in progress.

One hand scribbled notes in a coded shorthand while the other flipped rapidly through a thick volume. Somewhere to his left, a half-drunk coffee threatened to tip dangerously close to the edge of the table. He stabbed a glowing marker onto a map, trailing a faint trail of magical ink behind it. “That could explain the rift anomalies.” He was pretty sure he'd get banned from the library again if he got caught writing in the books.

Then, as if realizing he hadn’t blinked in several minutes, he leaned back and exhaled hard. “Hey,” he said without looking up. He sensed movement nearby. “If you’re not here to kick me out or confiscate the books, grab a chair. I could use a second brain before mine collapses from over-thinking.”

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s presence didn’t just arrive. it settled. like a shadow taking its rightful shape. he stood behind donnie without a word at first, eyes raking over the mess of tomes and notes. when he finally spoke, his voice carried none of the lazy amusement he used in friendlier company.

this was colder. weighted. personal.

"so this is where you scuttle off to," he murmured, tone low enough to make the hairs at the back of donnie’s neck stand on end. "hiding under mountains of paper like a rat in the walls."

he moved around the table finally, the dim light catching the faintest hint of a smile, but there was nothing kind in it. nothing soft. just teeth hidden behind civility. "jasper must be thrilled," he added, voice thin with venomous amusement. "he’s always had a soft spot for lost causes."

[1nquirer]

it was probably a bad idea for agnes to return to the underland. she barely made it out the first time—and the only reason she did was because she had help (although agnes wouldn't admit that outright). however, with the rumours of people going missing, agnes had no choice but to investigate. people deserved answers.

the first place she went to was snake eyes. slipping between the crowd, agnes weaved her way to orion's office. with how easy it was to get there, she knew he let her in.

"is that a jab at me?" she hissed. "because i refuse to listen." she popped down the hoodie of her poncho, ignoring how the raindrops trickled to the floor.

not mincing her words, agnes got to the point, "people are going missing. you had anything to do with that?"

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion’s brow twitched. he stubbed out the cigarette with a slow, deliberate grind, not because it was done, but because agnes had interrupted him mid-thought. that alone was offense enough. when he finally lifted his gaze towards her, it was with razor-edged patience of a man deciding whether to laugh or to bite.

"agnes, if i wanted to insult you, you’d know. i wouldn’t hide it behind philosophy." his eyes flicked to the puddle she was leaving on the floor. the muscle in his jaw flexing once. "you should learn to knock," he added, leaning back in his chair, hands folding loosely in his lap. "or better yet, learn when not to walk into the lion’s mouth."

her question hung between them like a lit fuse.he regarded her in silence. long enough to remind her that her boldness was a courtesy he allowed. and not a right she possessed. "of course, people are going missing." orion’s tone was maddeningly matter-of-fact. "It’s the underland. it devours the careless and the curious. you’d do well to stop being both."

"but if you’re asking whether I had anything to do with it…" he tilted his head, observing her like one might a stray cat that keeps returning despite being kicked. "no," he said simply. "not this time."

"though i’m sure you’ll blame me anyway. it’s your favorite hobby."

[sadieteague]

Sadie stiffened at the sound of Orion's voice, felt the icy fingers of anxiety crawl from the nape of her neck all the way down her spine, and for a split second she was just a little girl. Just a child, playing at a game much too large for her, a child who wanted to crawl under her blankets and pretend there were no monsters. But there were. And Orion was one of them. She slipped her mask on and became the Sadie she always was around him, quickly to avoid detection, as if he might sniff the fear out on her skin. Calm and collected, easy-going, submissive but fun - a loyal woman, someone useful.

She abandoned the rag, tossed it in the bucket beneath the bar, and prepared his drink. Walked over with a paper coaster and his glass, leaned on the bar but not too close. Never too close. While her brother may outwardly hate Orion, her hatred was deep inside her. He sickened her. But she still remembered the time when he didn't, when she believed in him beyond all else. Life was easier when she had been so trusting.

"Yes, quiet so far." She smiled slightly, nodded to the door, let her fingers play with the bills he had set down as if deep in thought. As if this was normal, as if she was just speaking with another patron. "It'll pick up soon, I'm sure. It always does." Sadie turned her attention back to him. "I always keep my head down, it's what makes me so good at my job. And to what do I owe the pleasure tonight? Or did you just miss me?"

[shad0w-t0ngued]

orion didn’t immediately look at her. he let the question settle. let it breathe. twist in that small space between them where her mask lived and his patience waited. only when he lifted his gaze did he meet her eyes..slowly. deliberately. as if he was peeling back a curtain she hadn’t realized she’d drawn.

his expression didn’t change. rarely did. but something in his posture eased, just barely, as if he found her answer predictable in a way that satisfied him. "miss you?" his answer soft enough to be velvet but sharp enough to cut. a faint curve touched the corner of his mouth. "oh sadie. if i wanted company, i wouldn’t choose someone who flinches every time the shadows shift." he tapped his finger once against the glass "but you are good at your job," he conceded, head tilting as if studying how her mask fit today. "and i do appreciate competence."