You don't remember the passage of time being this slow, nor do you remember exactly when the door had clicked behind you when it had shut. The windows were decent enough to hold light to filter into the room despite the grates that had been swung open from them. You know where the back of your mind had pulled it from. old wards, places that didn't have people wandering among them. There was a clear bed by one of the windows, pillows there.
You didn't have too much of a say. There was a bottle of ambient of the table, you didn't take a second look at the syringe on the table either. You closed your eyes. You had been wandering but you hadn't expected to locked in the attic of all places. It wasn't warm but it wasn't cold either and it was warm enough to know that you were starting to sweat. You had perched by the window. You had almost seemed like a caged bird, evident by the fact when you had tried to leave the room you had found it locked.
Your phone was downstairs, an accident. You didn't have a clue how you were getting out of this mess. You weren't aware of the other toys tucked away and hidden in the room, you merely leaned against the grated window. What else could you do? You didn't have much of a choice. You exhaled, it was a waiting game. That's all you could do is wait.
Fae Lore Information: applies to my lore.
Never give your true name: Names hold power.
Never accept food or drink: Consuming faerie sustenance can bind you to their realm or force you into eternal servitude.
Never say "Thank you": Gratitude implies you are now in their debt. Instead, express your appreciation with phrases like, "I am grateful for your kindness," or "Your help is appreciated".
Never accept a gift: Gifts from the fae are rarely free and always come with hidden obligations or curses.
Keep your promises: The fae take oaths and deals incredibly seriously. If you make a bargain, you are legally and magically bound to honor it.
Do not step into fairy rings: Avoid dancing or stepping into naturally formed circles of mushrooms or dark green grass, as you might get trapped.
Carry iron: Cold iron is traditionally repulsive to the fae. Carrying a small piece of iron can offer protection against their mischief.
It’s a question that hangs. You know most never give a proper answer. They never say that they have that fear. That most don’t even want to confess that the end scares them.. It’s even worse when something crawls into the void and messes with it. Flipping the balance leaves something poisoned in the air: or a place unclean. You know this from the sands back home; but that does not matter here.
You had been in this realm for longer than you cared to admit. Death had a natural place no matter what world. You knew that. Yet the air here felt almost too wrong. Something was amiss and you knew it. You think it had to do with the stacked stones you had seen. Something within you rejected that they were there or wanted to throw them from where they were. It was making your skin crawl: another soul. Another being. Something that didn’t belong here. You could feel the way it pulled your own soul. Something that felt like it belonged to Apep: a serpent or something of that nature.
Yet what you found was far from that. The garden that seemed to bloom despite what evil lurked beneath these grounds, this place or was it a soul? A rarity of possession: souls that were weak weren’t prone to this. Something settled under your skin that seemed to rub it the wrong way. You were unsettled: you could smell death here but the person was not left to it. They had been brought back: only a fraction of something remained. The mere question was where was the being?
You wonder if the question you spoke aloud would draw whatever it was out. However when you turn to face that: you froze. While your glamour did not portray your true being to people here, your magic in your bones made you able to see people for what they were. You'll see the way that shadows seemed to cling to this frame: something was rotten in the heart. He had been kept from death. .You could pull back the shadows: just a peak was enough of a glimpse to see this had been a young man.
It had left something in the pit of your stomach. Something that didn;t settle right. You wanted to reach out into his heart and dig deep into the soul. It was not something you had ever wanted to do in this world. Yet when you looked at him: everything in you wanted to reach under the skin. You knew there would be more than what was speaking to you. You knew that whatever it was had attached itself. This would way down a heart more than anything.
What had Apep placed before you here to challenge you?
You exhale. Your eyes come to face that of a man. Young looks almost ethereal behind the shadows that cast around him. Two toned features, soft features: they’re almost haunting. There’s something that trickles beneath the surface of you: something that feels like a weight that has been buried so long ago. Your eyes fluttered closed. There’s something haunting about the man in front of you.
Some part of you has a sick sense of dejubu: as if you knew him centuries ago when you had been learning. When you had not fully become the deity you are now and before the losses that your brother had been through. But that would be some type of fever dream, not one from this world could even know you existed. Yet here you stood staring for a moment that felt much longer than it should have been.
What if your souls are made of the same thing?
But instead you hear an answer that makes you completely pause, and you find yourself wanting to reach out to pull apart the shadows catching on what is left of his soul. That your desiree to bend the scales just this once is there: something pulls you to him. Perhaps it is the serpent Apep in this lifetime, you don’t know.
You just know what is attached to him does not belong, and you want the man that you see to belong again.
Even if it causes your heart to be heavier than a feather and not go to Daut.
❝ i know you like to be asked properly. can i have this dance? ❞ - jon @ apis
its from my memes / @obscura-mp3
You never get tired of him. No matter lifetime: his voice always sinks under your skin. You always love him the way that you should. It's a dance the pair of you play. You never stopped it. You couldn't even if you tired. Promises from one lifetime last forever, you can see the world as never ending.
Even now it's a different life but he still is the same to you. You know from everything you both are and you wouldn't change that for the world. Even if you don't remember your promises, you know he's too good to let go of. "I must have gotten lucky to have so much of your time tonight." you're teasing but at the same time with how Jon plays exy and your medical classes time is far and few. Not to mention how jon seems to be on lockdown with the ravens and the spare time like this they take when they can.
"But dance with me, I've missed you close to me."
You hate this part sometimes. No matter how many times you've done these services, they still remain with you. Some part of you knows you've been chosen for something deeper. The whispers of the daut and so many other things. You mind is seeping open with the messages of the dead: the children were the worst.
Weighing the hearts of those so young and yet sometimes they carried too much. Even now Apis is frozen. You are frozen on the alter because none of the words processed. Not a single thing from what he had said had processed. You heard what you were carrying break in the alter room but this was too-
it was your brother's child. you can feel the response of bile: the fluid coming to raise and you have to stop yourself. you move to kneel to pick up the pieces of an alter plate: there's an irony that it was towards Osiris. You are fumbling at the pieces: despite the recently lit incense it does nothing to help your nerves: nothing to sooth the emotions.
for a child to be slain. it was not something any anyone liked to suffer through. children were gifts and a blessing and you could feel the way that you choked. you wanted to take back the words you heard. as calm as you were this was direct upon your family and the slaughter meant a start of a war.
"where's seth?" you got out. you voice is panicked. "the child will be laid to rest but what of my brother." you then get a better look at Jonathan. there is a knife marking: he has fought with someone. he is bleeding: someone had attacked him. you begin to realize.
"your vision from years ago--" horror paints across your features and you shout to someone to raise alarm. Kek is no longer to be trusted: she is to be sent back to her lands. "Come here, that matter will have to wait, my brother's grief." there is concern at the injuries, the wound looks deep.
𝜗𝜚 ⠀𝗕𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗕 ; an aesthetic-focused dash game that is based on characters from the phantom of the opera . highlight what applies to your muse. please repost , do not reblog . Apis Zuburi
the phantom : a masked genius. hidden in shadows. a voice like velvet. obsession & longing. haunting melodies. unrequited love. candlelit catacombs. a labyrinth of mirrors. a tragic soul. deception & illusion. an unearthly presence. the scent of roses. (lotus) a cursed existence. beauty & monstrosity. a heart in torment. music as salvation. the depths of the opera. a lament.
christine : celestial voice. innocence & wonder. a father’s lullaby. a soul torn between worlds. the call of the angel. trembling candlelight. a gown of white. love’s awakening. a heart in conflict. a dream turned nightmare. soft hands. the glow of the stage. haunted melodies. beauty in sorrow. the mask unveiled. a choice between light & dark. silent tears.
raoul : a childhood promise. steadfast devotion. a noble heart. crashing waves. a white scarf on the breeze. a lover’s pursuit. honour bound. desperate vows. the scent of the sea. a guiding light. innocence unshaken. a hand outstretched . a desperate rescue. love as a lifeline. a heart unwavering. the warmth of daylight.
meg giry : silken ribbons. whispered secrets. the rustle of tutus. a friend in the wings. eager footsteps. a curious soul. golden stage lights. the scent of powder & roses. shadowed corridors. a mother’s warnings. pirouettes at midnight. innocence brushed by darkness. the pulse of the orchestra. a voice unheard. a dancer’s grace. searching eyes. the edge of the spotlight. loyalty & longing.
la carlotta : a jeweled gown. a voice like thunder. a queen of the stage. pearls & peacock feathers. laughter laced with venom. pride unshaken. trills of defiance. perfume & powder. a temper unleashed. adoration demanded. the diva’s domain. roses at her feet. jealousy in crimson. an insult unforgiven. a storm of high notes. a throne threatened. a scream in the dark. a fall from grace.
the daroga : a watchful gaze. whispered warnings. a past entwined with shadows. the scent of spice & old paper. honour worn weary. a flicker of lantern light. footsteps in the dark. a hunter & the hunted. secrets held close. duty beyond borders. the weight of knowledge. a voice of reason. a gun with one last bullet. the chill of the night. an oath unbroken. the burden of mercy. the last thread of humanity.
𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 : 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒎 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 .
rules : bold what applies to your muse and repost . APIS ZUBURI
SNOW WHITE: jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.
THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS: a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.
THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST: lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.
BLUE BEARD: a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands. dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.
THE SIX SWANS: sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.
LITTLE RED CAP: wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.
❝ i wish i could crawl inside you and make a home out of the hollows of your bones. ❞ - jon @ apis
its from my memes / @obscura-mp3
He already has. Over and over the song plays: it never ends. You were made to hold his soul. You were made to love him. Lifetimes never changed the fact that you were bound to one another, one promise stretched that across. Even the wake of your death never stopped the fact that Jon had come back to you.
Even now when those words are whispered in the heats of the desserts and the pink skies above in Bhor. Things have not changed. The way that a gold collar lays across your throat: the blue gem a match to the one around his wrist. You've been bound to him for as long as you can remember. You allow the throbbing of your heart to remain loud or at least it feels loudest when he says those words to you.
The flowers have always bloomed from your bones and you watch him with your eyes. Your fingers coming to rest on his cheek: you can feel how the liquid fire remains in your veins. The fire never stops burning: it never stops. Your souls have just been intertwined for far too long and you breathe out. "الحديقة هي قلب المنزل." You mutter to him: sometimes your native tongue does not translate despite the ruin, but you look him in the eyes when you say it.
The garden is the heart of the home. He has always known that. You bloomed life into that: into the manor. You wanted to see it thrive and it will never stop as long as you and him are intertwined and are one of the same soul. "في كل زهرة، هناك قصة."
In every flower, there is a story.
"Come, let me show you are gardens here, darling."
