#;portent

[remarkablepasserbys]

[radiant-and-terrifying]

"Ah. The damsel awakens at last..." The comment is dry but amused and low. He keeps walking, only sparing a glance down once. @remarkablepasserbys [august]

Stars Above, everything hurts…

Phobos can barely focus on anything but the awful ache in her limbs as she drifts back into consciousness with a quiet groan of pain. A hand still sticky with drying blood reaches upwards to clutch at her head— and it takes her a moment to realize she’s touching her own hair, and not the cold metal of her helmet.

Oh… that’s right.

The Omenkillers had come out of nowhere. In truth, she’s surprised she isn’t dead, from how outmatched she’d been from the beginning. Her helmet— probably smashed into pieces now— had been the only thing that saved her from its club, knocking her unconscious. Ugh, at least if it had killed her instead, she would be spared this humiliation.

“What… urgh, what happened?” She manages to croak out, the voice above her only distantly familiar. In her barely-conscious haze, she doesn’t seem to recognize its source yet.

[remarkablepasserbys]

"Oh, please, complain all you like- I know you're into this."

[remarkablepasserbys]

He lie on his back in the grass, and with his arm across his eyes. Those lips which often grinned and spat madness rested apart but only just. His breath was even and calm.

August felt the wind through his hair and against his skin through loosely tied shirt. It was quiet. It was so quiet.

When was the last time it was this quiet.

[remarkablepasserbys]

"My dear sorcerer, even at your most sourpuss self, I find myself on the winning side regardless of what you do. How lucky am I? ♥"

[remarkablepasserbys]

Despite what it might have seemed like, he really did just prefer to do his work by night. It was utilitarian and romantic and, well, one just couldn't go wrong with the classics. Murder by moon and stars. It gave him time to prepare anyway.

Stretch his joints, his neck.

Settle Aelius down and let his Aunt watch him for just a bit longer.

Sharpen that blade a little.

Run his tongue over his fangs as he strides the halls freely. The Queen allowed it, no? He tapped black-claw gauntlets against the walls, gently tracing the tapestries and fineries so as to not damage them and, ah, he did so miss it here! It reminded him of home, when he was a young boy with a little branch on his hip for his blade.

"How sweet the moment in a man's life when he becomes 'papa' instead of his father..." he growled, leading into a soft chuckle as he held the dagger in one hand and knock, knock, knocked on the door to the other man's room with the back of his steeled knuckles.

A bit of housecleaning never hurt, though, before he could truly appreciate his place as fiancé.

@kingdomofbellows

[remarkablepasserbys]

A message is scrawled in some odd places, where August might find his hunts. The method is similar to that of the other Tarnished in the Lands Between, but the script is much neater, as though one highly educated. It simply reads: "Meet me in the Murkwood."

He hadn't felt himself lately, though he did an alright job of hiding it from anyone but himself- and maybe Panya, his stalwart white mare. August rested his hand upon her neck as he spied the message and then cocked his head just so, as if amused.

Well, well. Why not?

With a breathed grunt, he mounted up on his horse and pulled his hood over his reforged helm. Whatever this was, trick or true, he was curious who would leave such a message. That was enough.

[remarkablepasserbys]

“i guess you got what you wanted.”

The way he flinches slightly hearing the question makes even him laugh a bit at himself. Or he thinks he does. No noise comes.

Little, crawling scars surround his eyes. His left one is covered in slightly stained bandages entirely. But one could imagine why.

"... I did. But I'm not done just yet either. You should know how it goes, of all people."