Lots of amazing events going on this week! For Lucanis week, I’ve decided to dump my entire creative energy into…an animation! Honestly, I’ve been sitting on these sketches for a bit but one of the prompts inspired me to make it happen!! 😅
Here’s a quick peek of what I’ve got cooking. It’s about halfway done, so hopefully I’ll get it done in time!
(if you know the lyric… 😈)
Gentle tags to @vixenofcadmea , @jellyeliart , @negligiblemoose , @corinnesin , @wombatpumpkin , @dreamywritingdragon , @khayr , @cravingcoconutredbull , and open tag to anyone else who wants to share something for WIP Wednesday!
And if you’d like to be on or off my tag list, please DM me and let me know!
There’s a lot of talk about about how Spite had changed Lucanis. But what about the other way around?
Story takes place at some time before abandoned kiss in pantry incident
“How long has Spite been infatuated with Rook?”
The question nearly makes Lucanis jump out of his skin. He turned to Emmrich with eyes wide and brow furrowed. “Has he what?”
Emmrich smiled but didn’t reply right away. The two men stood on the balcony of the central Lighthouse building, and they had been watching the courtyard below in comfortable silence until this point. Rook was teaching Manfred a game and Spite had gone to hover nearby, watching the two with interest and perhaps feeling a bit left out.
“Would you call it something else?” The older man prodded once more. “It seems as though every time he’s in earshot now, he’s speaking of her.”
Lucanis stammered, looking between the demon only he could see and the necromancer. “I— he’s— fascinated by her. Maybe.” He then weakly deflected, “But he’s that way about everyone.”
The corner of Emmrich’s lip twitched and Lucanis knew the lie had not landed. His shoulders came up to touch his ears as he looked back at the odd trio in the courtyard. Rook threw something in the air and caught it on the back of her hand, much to the delight of her half-visible audience. She passed her catch to Manfred who copied her upward throw precisely. In spite of letting the piece clatter to the cobblestone, he seemed exactly as thrilled as if he’d caught it. Rook was laughing as she bent to pick it up, long red curls flopping into her eyes, and Lucanis could hear her encouraging, “Not a bad first try!” as she did.
“Where did she even find the pieces for Knucklebones?” Lucanis asked, though not really expecting an answer. “Did she just have those lying around or—?”
“You aren’t going to answer me, then?”
“I—” Lucanis grunted, “I did! Mierda…”
Emmrich seemed thoroughly amused. “Now, Lucanis, despite your claims, I do not often hear Spite speak on anyone else.”
“So? He’s a spirit— a demon,” Lucanis gestured to the apparition no one else could see, except perhaps Manfred. “He’s not capable of…of affection, or whatever you’re implying. Isn’t that so?”
The professor made a small “hmm” sound and Lucanis tried not to get too agitated. He always felt like a frayed nerve when Rook was brought up these days. In spite of all attempts to feign ignorance, Lucanis was all too aware that his feelings towards the elven woman had started creeping beyond the bounds of allyship some time ago. But he had made no attempt to move forward— how could he? What did he have to offer? Besides, no one had ever wanted him before, it seemed silly to get swept up now in the middle of a job. Especially when his body, and his thoughts apparently, weren’t entirely his own. Lucanis watched as Rook took Manfred’s hand in both of hers to help him catch the knucklebone on the back of his glove. After a couple practices, one landed. They both began to celebrate, with Rook throwing her head back to emit one of those too loud, too pleasant laughs. His chest felt tight as he looked down at his boots. Rook was brash and ran headlong into every problem; something about seeing her sweetness made him feel even more exposed than usual.
“You know,” Emmrich started once more, “it’s curious. When we think about possession, we think about a spirit taking over a human entirely. Consuming him with their drive for…for wrath, or desire, or what have you.” He drummed his fingers repeatedly against the rail. “But in those situations, the demon chooses to possess the human. Spite made no such choice.”
Lucanis sighed, unsure of where this was going, “So?”
“In this situation, it occurs to me…how might the demon change under this exposure?” Emmrich tilted his head. “Perhaps the human he inhabited would start to effect him, too, not just the other way around. It could bring out behaviors and emotions that a spirit might never know otherwise.”
Emmrich’s implication landed, and was immediately followed by a wave of blushing heat breaking over Lucanis. “Are— are you saying you think Spite is infatuated with Rook because you think I’m infatuated with Rook?”
Emmrich looked at him with unearned surprise. “I wouldn’t dream of suggesting such a thing, my dear!” He insisted in a lightly dramatic voice. “But wouldn’t it be interesting, all the same?”
The Crow was momentarily stunned and, before his voice could be found, the older man clapped him on the shoulder pleasantly. “I should go gather Manfred, I suppose,” he announced casually, “It’s so important for Curiosity spirits to study. Good evening, Lucanis.”
Lucanis couldn’t even voice a farewell, stammering instead as the professor bounded off with renewed energy to descend the stairs. Spite, noticing this, drifted back with some curiosity of his own. “Is it angry?” The spirit asked none too politely.
Lucanis coughed and attempted to recenter himself. “Annoyed,” he clarified before adding, “You need to remember Emmrich can hear you.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to stop talking about what I might be thinking at any given moment. It’s embarrassing.”
The specter copying Lucanis’s features used them to look befuddled. Beyond Spite, Lucanis could see Emmrich join Manfred and Rook, who greeted him cheekily. They exchanged pleasantries and Lucanis watched the progression of Rook’s animated expressions. She handed over the bag of Knucklebones to the skeleton, and Lucanis could hear her telling Manfred that he better be ready for a challenge next time.
At some point in that, Spite seemed to realize, “Embarrassed about Rook?”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
As the professor and his ward departed, Rook’s eyes caught on him in the balcony. She grinned crookedly and lifted her hand in a wave. Lucanis lifted his hand half-way in return before melting away from the edge, as if he could hide there.
“We like Rook,” Spite insisted. “We always like Rook.”
Lucanis had the distinct feeling that when the spirit said “we,” they really meant “we” this time.
