I thought myself that I recently mentioned quite often, that I drown in WIP 🙈 So have some glimpses of some artworks that are almost ready to rock the next round when some evil plans will launchhhh... 😎🖤
And you thought that I've got tired of gothing clones? 😁 Uhm, NO! 🔥 Me and maybe some others have just begun 😱 Hold your spotchka glasses and raise your horns, the #gar goth night is young and full of possibilities 🤩
Also check out the @gargothnightzine 😽 (yeah 👀 "-zine"! ✨) Use those two tags to join with your art, writing, super incorrect and inappropriate quotes and fun chat dialogues, thoughts, ideas and creations if you thirst for dark and gothy clones, OCs and shenanigans! 💜✨🖤
GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @thepinkwool
I hope I didn’t miss someone? 🤔 If you interested to stay tuned, comment and tag me or PM 🤩
A stillness of the air was never a good thing within the court of Queen Miralda the Pious. Stillness meant scrutiny. Unflinching scrutiny. The kind one gives to prey before they land the killing blow. It was being held within the palm of the iron fist of the monarch; the fingers were nearby, ready to crush whoever or whatever sat inside them.
Lazaro wore his neatest and most appropriate finery. A large rose pinned together the larger, sweeping cloak that overlaid the wrappings of inscribed cloth beneath. He came bearing no armor, flanked instead by some attending paladins who broke away once he was in the audience of his queen. He swallowed thickly, feeling the sharp eyes of Her Majesty seeing into him. One hand rested on the edge of the throne she sat in, the other gently gripping a staff of office. Light from the windows around the chamber made the cosmium woven into the thread of her dress glow, giving her an otherworldly and ethereal look.
Lazaro stopped a good twenty paces from the foot of the black stone and marble dais she sat upon, lowering himself to a knee and dipping his head to her in deference. At the far end of the hall, the great doors opened, and a set of footsteps punctuated with the hitting of a metal staff on stone announced the other party of this audience; the Pontifex himself. Lazaro briefly wondered where the Blessed Saint was.
"Saint Elenda brings her regards and her apologies, Your Majesty," he said as he entered, his voice echoing off the higher ceiling. "Her meeting with the High Marshals runs longer than anticipated. I have come in her stead, for now."
There was a tensing of the hand that rested on the edge of the throne. "Very well. Will she be joining at all?"
Something about the way she said that rankled the kneeling priest. As though the queen thought she was entitled to the time of the Living Saint. Perhaps she did.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the Pontifex said, moving past Lazaro now. "She may miss this audience in specific, but she will be available in a short while. I will ensure she is caught up once she arrives. I would give you a definite time, but not even she knows at this juncture."
The queen's fingers gently rapped on the edge of her throne. Pontifex Fein took his place at her right, offering a bow as he did so.
"Condemner Ayere," the queen said, her voice carrying the kind of weight that made Lazaro's chest tighten. "What a number of questions do I have for you."
"I shall answer them, Your Grace," he answered, still not looking at her out of respect. Instead he took one hand took it from his chest, outward, palm up like an offering. A sign of trust and truth. "May I have leave to speak briefly before we begin?"
"You may." The queen shifted in her chair slightly.
Lazaro swallowed and cleared his throat softly. "I have recently traveled to the plane of Alara, more specifically to speak with a woman of Jund. A friend and ally to me. Her name is Shregresha. I believe that-"
"Look upon me as you speak," the queen said tersely. Lazaro felt momentarily wrongfooted, but lifted his dark gaze upwards. The queen's face was stone, her eyes sharper than the finest edge of a paladin's blade. He brought his hands together as he spoke again.
"I believe that there is an opportunity for an alliance between us and the people of Jund," he continued. "They have a threat that they are requesting our aid in dealing with. As a token of trust and friendship, they are willing to send with us a number of warriors to help us deal with the Betrayer and his forces."
Her Majesty looked unmoved. Lazaro anticipated this.
"And what else do the people of Jund want as part of this alliance?" she asked, fingers tapping on the armrest of her throne.
"For us to send along as many priests as we can spare, as well as paladins to guard them, Your Grace," he answered. "Even if that means only one or two."
"And what would they do with my Legion and my clergy?" the queen asked, tilting her head a little. Mavren's face pulled into a light scowl at the implication, but he said nothing.
Lazaro licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. "They are seeking aid in dealing with an existential threat to their plane," he said. "A cult of demon worshipers, and the beasts they conjure and summon."
One nail rapped against the throne now. Her Majesty's eyes became half-lidded. "Did you make the offer of aid?"
"It was begged of me," Lazaro answered. "By a woman who had been burned in the acidic breath of one of these beasts, one of those who aided us in Innistrad."
"No doubt that you informed her of the current state of the clergy," Mavren said, brushing out a bit of his cloak so that it folded a bit more neatly around him. "I do not know if we have even a single soul to spare. Sending you along to Kamigawa with some of your peers has been a large extension of trust, condemner."
"Not to mention the very fact of the matter that my Legion has been standing idle as proclaimed by the Marshal overseeing our Kamigawan operations despite insistence from Kamigawa that a threat was imminent," the queen said, the words stentorian and sharp, echoing harshly in Lazaro's ears.
"This is why the people of Jund are willing to trade us their warriors while we send over ours, Your Majesty," Lazaro said. "They have been dealing with the likes of winged creatures with foul magics almost akin to that as seen by the Betrayer and his forces, and we have holy magics that are all but unknown on that plane. We compliment each other's weaknesses."
The queen's face twitched at that. "I need evidence that this threat is as pressing as you currently claim it to be. My Legion is needed to ensure that my realm does not shatter further." A stormy look was given to Mavren, who weathered it. "My clergy is needed to ensure that our realm is made whole once all of this is over. The report that I received of our efforts off-plane are troubling, to say the least. I am growing tired of waiting and being idle, condemner."
"I understand, Your Grace," Lazaro said, wringing his hands a little. "To speak to the point of Kamigawa, I do not think that all is necessarily lost. While we have not been as militaristically active, we have been active in regards to sharing knowledge and cultures with one another. I believe this could be invaluable to us, especially for whatever designs the Legion may have in the near future. Kamigawa is a plane of wondrous technologies and several of their disciplines have been nothing but boons for my condemner work."
Again, the queen drummed her fingers against her throne. "If we were closer to a time of peace, or had this happened before the invasion, I would agree with you. But they asked for our paladins. We sent them alongside no human aspirants and courtiers because we were fearful of something that, as far as I have been told, has not come to pass. There is hardly evidence of anything remaining of the threat. Our soldiers are needed here."
"If they must be recalled, we have already been making contingencies, Your Grace," Lazaro said, bowing his head. "High Marshal Guitirre visited recently, and--"
"How did you return so fast?" The queen's eyes and question made his chest momentarily seize. Lazaro blinked and coughed.
"My adoptive son, Vasro," he answered. "He can create temporary omenpaths between two places. Unfortunately, he is limited both in scope and in how many he could create in a day."
"Is this something he can teach others?"
"No, Your Grace," Lazaro answered, not liking the hungering look in the queen's eyes. "It requires unique knowledge that is not easy to impart upon another."
"But it can be imparted, yes?"
Lazaro paused, thinking. He shook his head slowly. "It requires making a pact with another being," he answered. He noticed the Pontifex raising a brow at that.
"Another being?" he asked with a soft frown.
"Something that, admittedly, my--" he paused. "My partner and I both fear. We are working on ways to break him away. Secondarily to all of our other tasks and duties to Torrezon, of course."
"Something you will no doubt accomplish once we have more certainties about the expulsion and capture of the Betrayer," Mavren said, dipping his head.
"Continue," the queen said, making a dismissive wave. "The High Marshal visited."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lazaro said, bowing his head to her. "He visited with the courtiers you provided to him, and he has been monitoring the situation at the bastion. As far as I am aware, he is preparing to speak with the Emperor herself about this, if he has not already left by the time I return."
"Ensure that I am informed of that exchange as soon as possible," the queen said. "If there is no good and reasonable point for my soldiery to be idle, then they will be recalled, and Kamigawa will have to deal with this on their own. Just as we have been dealing with our own issues."
"Not without some aid," Mavren said. "The Therosians--" he was silenced by the queen's incredibly sharp look. The Pontifex shifted his wings and lapsed into silence.
"What would you have me tell the people of Jund, Your Grace?" Lazaro asked.
"I demand to see credible evidence that there is such an existential threat. An exchange of warriors or no, I am not risking sending more of my soldiers to stand idle and do nothing when they could be put to greater effect here," the queen said. "Even if they have greater knowledge of beasts and demons, they do not know our demons, nor do they know our lands. We could just as easily replace them with new-blooded skymarchers and acolytes."
"These are not ignorant new bloods, Your Majesty," Lazaro said. "The Jundians--"
"I will act when I have greater confirmation that the resources I am spending will be fully and actively utilized," the queen said sharply. "We do not have the time for this. We need to focus on getting our country united under one rule of law and order." Her eyes flicked to Mavren. "And under one faith."
"I understand, Your Grace," Lazaro said, making the sign of the rose with one hand. "Do you have any other questions to ask of me?"
"Not at this time, no," the queen said with a sigh. "Share your findings with the rest of your priesthood and we will begin applying whatever you have as soon as possible. I expect to hear back from the High Marshal within a week."
"Yes, Your Grace," Lazaro said, bowing a bit deeply.
"You are dismissed, condemner," the queen said, waving her hand. Lazaro bowed one more time before he finally stood, became flanked by a handful of paladins, and left.
"We should be helping them," Arturo said after Lazaro finished relaying everything that happened. The two were in their private chambers within the bastion. Incense made the room smell better than the musk of stone. "Shregresha helped us in our time of need."
"I agree with you," Lazaro said, sighing as he leaned against his bed. Arturo was sat on his. "Unfortunately, Her Majesty is focused on other things."
The paladin snorted. "Did you tell her how wounded she was?"
"I did, yes," Lazaro said with a nod. "I do not think she was impressed with them when she first heard of them. Especially after Turrak's request when we took them through the Deoro."
Arturo scratched the side of his face. "I hope she isn't using that against all the Jundians."
"I cannot say." The priest shrugged.
"I'll speak with the High Marshal once he returns," Arturo said, crossing his arms. "If we are to be recalled away from Kamigawa, perhaps we could detour and march on Jund before coming home. We should have enough priests for a proper kill-team for a few demons."
"Perhaps," Lazaro said with a nod. "I did warn her that this would happen."
"It's still stupid."
"Be careful."
"I am still faithful and reverent to the sovereignty of our queen," Arturo said, putting his hands up. "But this is a very stupid call."
"I do not disagree." Lazaro hugged himself a little. "I will give Shregresha the news--"
"Wait until Guitirre gets back," the paladin said. "If he is amenable, we can still help her."
Lazaro's lips formed a line. He sighed. "Very well. You're right," he said quietly. "I will wait."
"Thank you." The paladin came over and pressed a gentle kiss to his husband's lips. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine," Lazaro said. "Just... tired."
Arturo grunted softly, resting his forehead against the priest's. Lazaro closed his eyes, exhaling quietly through his nose. He felt his husband's hand go to his belly.
"It'll be a strong one, then," he murmured. "A blessing."
"Just like his father," Lazaro said with a soft smile.
"That goes both ways," the paladin said, returning the smile and pressing another kiss to his husband's forehead. "You should rest. Are you hungry?"
"A little," the priest answered. "You've barely let me go without feeding each day."
"The little one needs you to be full of energy so it can grow healthy and strong," the paladin said matter-of-factly. Lazaro snickered and kissed his cheek.
"I'll be fine going without feeding for a few more hours, beloved. But thank you," he said. He yawned, suddenly feeling the crashing wave of exhaustion beginning to overwhelm him.
"Here, let me --" Arturo moved to start helping him out of his priestly garb, stripping down into something more comfortable and safer to sleep in.
Lazaro directed him on where to put his things before he sat back on the edge of his bed. His limbs felt leaden, and he idly rubbed his belly. He looked down at it, feeling it firming but seeing no signs of anything showing. He had been warned that he might not show at all for the duration of the pregnancy, but he also knew it was still incredibly early. That did not at all stop his husband from doting over him and almost smothering him when he wasn't called away on his duties as a paladin, or when the priest himself had his own duties and summons.
"You sleep," Arturo said, grabbing a nice thick and downy blanket and wrapping his husband in it. "My Lazarito."
Lazaro scoffed at him, but he did not resist the wrappings, finding them incredibly comfortable and comforting. "Let me know if I am needed or if you hear back from the High Marshal or someone else soon." He yawned again, settling down in his bed. Arturo said something that Lazaro only half-heard, and so he muttered a soft indistinct, "love you, beloved," before sleep took him with open arms.
Summer arrives in a strawberry, sweet, juicy. As long as you feel its flesh on your tongue you’re unaware how. One minute inches into the next. But how could you observe awareness anyway? Or, for that matter, a thought? It grows in you, not as a sensation. (Nor like a baby or tumor.) An experience that you can’t hold on to. Any more than to the smell of lilac. Though it soothes emptiness.
Rosmarie Waldrop, from “Asymmetry (2)”, The Nick of Time: Poems
