#lady serena

[eclipse306]

I was motivated so here you have Lady (goddess) Serena!

i love how the rendering turned out

i need to practice my cursive tho..

[bloodredx]

Day 4: Blood Family

“Family?” Lady Serena scoffed slightly, as if the notion was some sort of foreign concept. “There’s no need to speak of the dead.”

Bones felt the corner of his mouth rise against his will. “Ya ain’t come from the snow or dirt, did ya?”

Her lips pursed. “Of course not, that’s ridiculous.” Though her eyes slid over to gaze out the window. “However, it would be simpler.”

“Mmm.” He agreed softly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked the question at all. No matter, the cat’s out of the bag now. “I ain’t gonna press ya, doll. It’s not like I speak too much on it either. Just a, let’s say morbid curiosity. I’ve known ya how long now?”

Serena paused, clearly calculating the exact number. “Approximately a century now.”

He raised a brow. “Has it been that long, damn.” At her stern gaze, it was clear his attempts at levity were wasted. “Listen, ya don’t-“

“I know, Bones. I know.” She shot him a sympathetic glance, biting her lip. He could see the gears in her head turning, working out some sort of problem, but what? Her voice was soft when she spoke again, the iciness fallen away completely. “My father was an honorable man. He saw the best in everyone, to his own detriment and inevitable end. Foolish, too soft, but honorable. He was my hero. And not a day goes by that I don’t think about him."

The usual weight of her gaze had vanished from him, instead laying squarely on the floor. For once, she seemed small, and that unnerved him. The silence crept on for a long time, hanging heavy as thick snowfall. Bones shivered despite himself.

A sharp breath broke the silence, the Lady hadn’t been breathing after all, but she stood swiftly in one graceful movement and placed a soft kiss against Bones’s cheek. Her voice, barely audible as a whisper lingered in his ear as she pulled away. “Speak no more of it, you are the closest thing to family I hold now.”

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[bloodredx]

Day 21: Poison

“Hey, uh, darlin’?” Bones’s voice drifted across the courtyard, a strong note of unease leeching plainly from his throat.

The Lady looked up, her fingers laced between the pages of her book so as to keep place of her progress. “Yes?”

He was standing on the far side, the corner of the garden where she tucked away species of personal interest. Plants that were hard to get ahold of, but proved infinitely valuable in terms of her research, development, or actual treatments for patients. Of course, the variety of plants was unorthodox, and should an official of the Church or perhaps even any official from any other government came to see, there would certainly be some eyebrows raised. Fortunately, none would ever enter here, so the thought was dashed from her mind. It was replaced with a notion of the source of his concern. Nettlebane.

“Doll-“

“If it bothers you, step away from it.” She returned to her text, turning the page swiftly. “It’s not for you.”

“Y’know that stuff is-“

“Poisonous, yes. The antithesis to mages and their magic.” Her eyes slid up to meet his, a slight sense of annoyance plastered over her face. “Bones, you’re something of an herbalist, yes?”

He grunted in response. “Potions. But yes.”

“Then surely you must know what medicine is?”

He took a few steps back, finally turning towards her. “What I make ain’t nowhere near close.”

“Perhaps not technically, but the function remains.” Marking her spot, she put the book down on the table before her, gesturing for him to take the seat next to her. He obliged slowly, an unreadable expression marking his face. She continued slowly. “What more is medicine than a venom that kills your ailment faster than it kills you?”

He frowned at that, but struggled to come up with a compelling argument to counter. “Serena.”

The Lady reached across, her cold fingers wrapping around his hand delicately. “Yes?”

“You’re terrifying.”

“I’ve been told that.” She raised a brow, noting his unease was stronger than his usual affection. “You don’t know if you’re allergic or not.”

A statement, not a question. “…I don’t.”

“Then I’ll be sure to keep it away from you.” She kissed his cheek. Somehow, it didn’t comfort him much.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[bloodredx]

Day 8: Savior

Beeping from the heart monitor was an incessant and unnecessary distraction. The patient’s heartbeat was clear as day, even without the visual and auditory aid, though the Lady knew well it wasn’t for her. Though it didn’t make it any less obnoxious. Her hands fiddled with the IV bag, adjusting the flow of medication as her mind focused on the hard part: what to say. Certainly she could give a detailed explanation of all the critical organ failures the young man’s body was going through, that the very essence of life was leeching out of him with each breath haggardly drawn, each flex of a muscle, each and every throb of the heart that echoed out in both his chest and the monitor.

“I take it from your expression, prognosis isn’t good?” words broken and distantly soft left his lips suddenly, resetting her thoughts entirely.

Rolling her shoulders back, Lady Serena sat gently on a stool next to the bed, folding her hands perfectly in her lap. She ran out of time, and words must come. “I won’t lie to you.”

The strained laughs faded quickly, a shine of something unsaid lingering in his steel grey eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

With the ice of restraint now broken, Dr. Rosalune’s words came fluidly, trying to place a gentleness that was wholly outside the reach of her personality. “I’m doing nothing but delaying the pain. At this point, things have deteriorated to the point where barring transplants, there isn’t much I can do for you. And even then, your fragility might not allow you to handle surgery.” She felt the tip of her toe tapping softly on the floor. “I’m sorry. You have a very short time remaining.”

He tilted his head away from her, eyes tracing the spaces mortar held between the stones of the wall, and finally landing on the single painting in the room. A bouquet of flowers, sitting still on a table with a thick, impasto style. Petals drifting off and flaking away from the group. His next breath was audible and he closed his eyes for it, perhaps to hide the pain. “You have nothing to apologize for, doctor. We both knew going in here I wasn’t looking for a miracle. Every other hospital in Glacidea turned me away.” A bitter smile drifted onto his face for a moment. “It’s the will of the gods, I was to die eventually. At least now I know it will be a comfortable one.”

A shaky hand reached at, and for a moment, Serena hesitated in taking it. But she did, feeling the warmth of his failing body against the iciness of her skin. Holding there a moment, she internalized her own prayer, and stood slowly as she gave it a squeeze. “Shall I bring in your family? Can I make any arrangements for you?”

“You can actually.” His voice turning serious a moment.

“Oh?” His hand clung tightly to hers, refusing to let go until his words were spoken.

“Make me a promise. Do better on the next one like me. I know you can’t save everyone; that is the curse of life. But you made this so easy for me. Do even more next time. In that way, I am saved.”

Of all the things to ask. She mused internally, but not letting a single change reflect across her face. I gave you everything available to me and yet it was not enough. Yet… Dr. Rosalune bowed her head slightly as she spoke, belying a tenderness that was uniquely hers, yet entirely foreign. “You have my word.”

Only then did he let go, eyes closing as he sank further into his pillow. “Thank you. Goddess preserve you.” She nodded once, and stepped slowly out of the room. He wasn’t the first patient she had lost, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last one. The gods had their demand for life, the First One and the Silent One had ensured that. But her mind chewed at the details of his case, wondering what exactly she had missed. No matter what, she would find it, and it would be used on the next patient that shared the condition. However, it pained her that with all her speed and experience, that she couldn’t grasp the wisp of smoke that was called life in time for him. But then again, lifeless as she was, she wouldn’t truly know what to look for either. Her fingers drummed against her leg as she walked back to her office, trying to put the pieces together.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[bloodredx]

Day 10: Mercy

Serena's hands were bound tightly in ropes as she was led before the crowd. Their cheers and cries, frothing with anger bombarded on all sides, their much too loud voices grating with each and every step forward. Never mind the fact it would have been trivial to break the ropes that bound her, but that would only serve to prove them right. Her steps were guided by the forlorn looking guards that held her by the shoulders, just barely missing the fabrics of her coronation gown and sparing them the wrinkles and stains. At least for the moment.

The scent of blood and snow leeched from every part of the castle and the surrounding town, even to the point where a standard human could smell it. It reeked of the pain and suffering that had occurred that night, all of it eventually leading back to the fault of her own. For what did these folk know? A few traders stumbled into town to barter and found the village littered with bodies and her covered in blood. The call to the Church was swift, especially once it was discovered the king was dead and the queen was missing. All that remained was one, blood soaked, miserable looking princess with the eyes of a beast and skin marred with black veins. The only survivor, the sick one, the two had to be related. And on some level, she couldn’t refute them. Her existence was the cause. So it made full sense that despite her mother’s doing, she pay the price. Her mother was already dead, after all. She got off easy, as she always did.

Now the Church was ready, it didn’t take long for them to get the execution stand ready, nor any time to find those willing to stand witness to what would be a gristly deed. The Will of the People was not the kindest way to go, but such were the costs of betraying them as a monarch. The Church of the Northern Lights was already pining to take over, they finally got their chance with this. No other heirs would dare stand up after what was going to be told of this day. She would die the last royal in Glacidea. Somehow, that didn’t bother Serena. They never knew her, and she wasn’t allowed to visit them to any quality due to her “illness.” So it seemed they were never meant to be, and crowns shouldn’t be passed to those who are unworthy. Certainly not murderers, despite the history books.

Still, she was a princess until death, and she would carry herself as such. Walking up the stairs to the awaiting podium, she held her head high, eyes filled with remorse and softness as best as she could manage, in spite of the grip of anger holding over her heart; alongside the grief and regret. She wasn’t enough, and now she would pay that debt with this action. Ravens circled overhead, the Silent One no doubt watching from within their eyes, waiting for his opportunity to collect what was rightfully his. The high priest rambled on words, things to jeer the crowd, but she couldn’t focus on them. No, the scent of blood around was too great, the cries of the people too loud, and the pain in her heart too strong.

It was a while before words were spoken with any clarity, and the high priest’s voice finally stuck in her ear. “And so now we must act in the way of our forefathers, that the Will of the People be restored and strike down this insolent, aggressive, and homicidal princess. Born with the world at her fingertips, and yet she couldn’t wait to take the crown for herself, committing regicide and countless acts of violence for her own gain. Such deceit inside this small, trembling form. Do not let it fool you. The Precious Living are better, deserve better than to be ruled by such viciousness.” He gestured broadly with an arm, cueing a guard to push her forward. “Speak your words, your highness, it is the last chance between you, them, and the gods.”

Serena took only a moment to look over the crowd, the call of her blood starting to boil up as it realized what was only seconds away. She beat it back with a deep breath, and gentle step forward. Now, for the first, and last, time she was allowed to address her people, it was the least she could do to offer the decorum of her father, and in some way have him live on in their minds, her shyness be damned. “I wills speak only of an attempt to prevent a worse fate for all of you, my fair people. I cannot prove any claims made, for I alone am the last witness. However, let it be known that I pray to all the great gods, particularly the blessed Xer’hana, that I stopped the doom that was coming for you all should I have fallen before I was found. King Valenfir was great and wise, though he could not see the fault lines growing under the soil of this country. Unfortunately, I pay the price for that sight. Blessed be he in the beyond, and may he rest easy.” She stopped a tear from forming in her eye with another breath, lest her true nature be seen, and continued.

“I do not, and will not, beg for mercy or a pardon. I see you do not want me, and as the will of the people guides the instrument that shares the same name, I am ready to meet the Adamsa Frisay.” A few winces rippled through the crowd, particularly from those in the Church, at the mention of the Silent God’s name, but none interrupted her. “I apologize for not serving my duties better. Blessed be those who walk in my shadow, once it is long gone.”

The crowd was silent, save for the beating of hearts and heavy breathing in the cold air. She had made her point, and without aid from the guards, she stepped up to the podium, laying her back flat against its cold, vertical surface. The high priest, with mouth agape, lost composure for the faintest of seconds, but recovered smoothly enough. His wrinkled hands opened the box held by his associating priestess, pulling out the jewel studded implement used to strike down foul kings and queens many times before her. To literally drive the Will of the People into the heart of a monarch was a direct statement. One few could deny had inherent power. Yet here the youngest of its victims stood ready and without fear of the stake.

His other hand gripped a hammer, and with a sharp voice he spoke the final words of all those who found themselves afoul of that Will. “The people of Glacidea have spoken, you and your kin have lost rights to this land and this throne. This world will be far better without you. May the gods have more mercy that we do.”

The point was placed over her heart, and Serena exhaled slowly. Unnecessary, but the final action felt right. Closing her eyes, a placid expression crossed her face despite the rage in her blood. She felt the priest’s muscles tense, and shortly after the first strike of the stake. Pain jolted through her, refreshing in waves with each strike. Finally, darkness was all she knew.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[bloodredx]

The doctor spoke rarely, often preferring to bore her eyes into those speaking. On some level, it was more likely she was looking through them, the weight of her gaze bringing the most confident of men to the shivers of stage fright. Some worried she wasn't listening, as her face revealed focus on ideas grander than the person before her. To the Lady's credit, she never did miss a word said in her presence. Even if you desperately wished she hadn't.

__

I needed a little something to clear my head between other projects. And it's been a minute since I drew my dear Lady Rosalune here. May she never have to turn her attention on you. And yes, I did draw the wall paper.

[bloodredx]

Day 19: Hobby

Her hands were entrenched in the thick of the loam, soil caking up under her precisely polished nails. Serena had gloves, sure, but they didn’t give enough motion to grant her access to much needed roots. They were fine for bulk tasks, but sometimes she needed contact with roots. The plants weren’t the only things that needed grounding after all. Still, she had much to do tonight before the moon sank away. There were still zinnias to plant, their seeds sprouting successfully this year. There were fruit trees to wrap for the oncoming threat of winter, and most importantly, her special cultivar of roses were due for clipping and grafting. Those grafts were most sensitive to the changes in air temperature and moonlight, much in the same way their breeder was.

Still, the actions were repetitive and consistent. Something she had learned at a young age that her mind sorely needed. It had a propensity to get away from her, rambling and routing its way down paths of darkness and sore insecurities. Fears that were neither lady-like nor needed in her line of work. Her mentor had spoken true when those who had gifts of potence had curses that matched in weight. At least he had given her the knowledge of how to curb them, if not completely tame them.

Growth and time was important for plants, she needed to give herself the same patience. For time was in excess, and the walls of her hospital, her home, had sprawled wide as the rows of flowers that circled the facility. The same factors of care were involved without and within. If only she could extend it to herself. But for now, flowers would have to do.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[bloodredx]

Day 14: Mask

Bones looked up from his book, nose twitching with annoyance at the constant mumbling of the young vampire across the room from him. Icarus hadn’t been speaking per se, but his odd noises had only grown louder over the last couple of minutes. Bones adjusted his glasses lazily, rolling his eyes slightly as he did. “Are you done, kiddo? Not that I’m doin’ anything too important, but I’d like some peace to read.”

Jumping at the sudden words, Icarus slowly looked over his shoulder, some notion of apology lingering in his eyes. “Stressed out. Sorry.”

“No need to be so stark, ain’t bothered too much. Just gotta make sure you ain’t chewin’ your lips off or nothin’.”

He grimaced slightly, rolling his lip low in a failed attempt to cover fangs too long for his mouth. “It’s really that bad?”

“Mmm. Certainly ain’t pretty.” Bones agreed. “What are you even workin’ on?

There was a soft clatter of some hollow material as Icarus’s hands shook lightly, fumbling to grab at, well something, from the surface of the coffee table. “Uh, well…”

“Is that a mask?” Bones leaned forward as he closed his book and set it aside. “Not a bad plan. Though, somethin’ tells me it ain’t gonna pan out well for you.”

“What, is it that bad?”

The mask itself seemed fine, perhaps a bit sloppy if anything. It seemed Icarus lacked some level of finesse when it came to craftsmanship, but not offensively so. Something more akin to a raw cut of wood, it merely needed a bit of sanding to make it perfect. However, this was not made of wood, instead being composed entirely of cloth, mimicking the medical masks that the hospital’s surgeons and nurses wore for their more sensitive patients. Theirs, however, didn’t include intricate markings. Markings Bones had seen before, and again made his nose twitch.

“It ain’t that it’s bad, no. But I think you really need to think about who’s gonna see that.”

“Well the goal is obviously to cover my fangs, I can’t let anyone see those.”

“Sure.” He nodded lightly. “Makes sense.”

Icarus continued, missing Bones’s point. “So something like this should do the trick. Plus it’ll blend into the hospital environment, I don’t think anyone would think twice about it.”

“Mmm, yeah, that’s true. But…” Bones drew out his tone, trying to think of some way to let him down gently. “I just don’t think the Lady will let you get away with that.”

He saw the young man’s eyes grow wide, clearly that was a factor he had neglected. “Why?”

Bones raised a brow. “You really asking me to explain her mind?”

“Well, no, but-“

“I get it, I really do.” Bones stood slowly, crossing his arms. “But, she’s stern and set in her ways. And I don’t think she’s gonna let your training slide, despite your creativity to get around it. Plus…” He considered his words carefully, knowing not all of the stories in his head were his to tell. “Serena doesn’t hold much appreciation for those who hide their face. But I’ll leave it at that.” He clapped a hand on Icarus’s shoulder. “You’ll get there, keep trying.”

Icarus grimaced despite himself. So much work for potentially nothing. “Thanks for the warning.” He mumbled bluntly before making his way out of the room, hand balled into a fist around his mask.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)