#mediicusvitae

[namifloof]

Ko-Fi

hehe art trade with @mediicusvitae >:) LAMYYYYYYYYYYY

[cardiacginger]

For @mediicusvitae, the ritual is complete in an instant. The Hallowheel creaks to a halt.

Halloween AU - Vampire Squid

Lit with spectral markings and a chilling assortment of spiked bone, Lamy descends at the Witching Hour's chime. A cape extends from her shoulders, able to stretch to double her body length and wrap the being, or an unlucky prey's appendage, in a barbed bubble. She can emit a pulse of blinding light at will, and can send out invisible feelers to monitor her surroundings. While her bonded soul may have given her a preference for scavenging, she's hardly incapable of bringing her meals to their necessary state on her own.

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@mediicusvitae​ responded to this post:

{ okay but the image of the coffin boat cruising around like a jet ski is literally so funny to me asdfghjhgfdsdfgh }

It’s an amazing mental image. Ikkaku will bestow Mihawk with the greatest goth jet ski she can create to get him to Joras if she has to. Let this poor dapper swordsman zip around the foggy North Blue waters then sip wine in his Stephen King mansion. It’s what he deserves.

[pirateborn-a]

    Sdsjhdsldjs     yeah     remind me to think ab how they got their hands on that devil fruit n reactions some point,      but god like    Roger would be.    Okay so realistically Roger would just jump in after whoever fell overboard but also it’d be really funny if

Roger: Soooo.... Ray,,,,, funny story, Rayleigh: What did you do-- where’s the kid? Roger: Okay so I might have yeeted him overboard just a tiny bit-- Rayleigh: You what--

[luazasvogel]

" if not for that old cunt's use in obtaining useful soldiers, i would say by all means...snap his neck, make his last few minutes painful. unfortunately, he still has his uses. "

[crewisms]

💀 — eyes glare down upon lamy, a grimace spread on his painted face. he was supposed to be nice to this one — law already threated to excommunicate his heart if he was to act out, but she was annoying him to no end. finally, he broke, an outburst rising from him. "what? why do you keep staring me, little girl?!" // @mediicusvitae me excited to write with lamy!!!!!!!!!!

[medicus-mortem]

@mediicusvitae​ asked: Her katabasis had continued deeper into the tomb, where the stone walls perspired grey, muddy water. The very air smelt old. Lamy blew some dust off the heavy tome that sat in front of her, the bound leather groaning from age as she flipped the cover open. She pulled her torch closer and went over the scrawl of ancient notes, the ink smudged and indecipherable at parts. Footsteps from behind made her look up briefly, her hand waving the approaching figure closer as she turned back towards her findings. “Slept well? Look at this!” she grinned, pointing at the strange symbols on the opened page. “I think I might be able decipher the missing parts of this spell with my notes.” { for Lich!Law ♥ }

Unprompted

   Eyes come open in one sudden motion. The body does not breathe, his lungs nothing more than set dressing on a merely functional outfit. His flesh is stiff, muscles seizing with the lack of magic fueling its function. Waking to rigor mortis is not a pleasant thing, which is why the Lich prefers to sleep in only his bones but for now appearances need to be kept. He can’t simply let his flesh melt away before sleep. What if his new apprentice saw? Either she’d be horrified or incredibly fascinated and the Lich is unsure of which outcome would be worse.

   He sends a burst of necrotic magic through the dead flesh, giving it a mockery of life and dispelling the rot. Motions are slow at first, bones moving muscle more than muscle moving bones. The Lich sits up and swings himself out of the cot that’s been placed in the cleaner of this tomb’s chambers. It’s not the first time he’s woken in a crypt and won’t be the last, but he admits to himself waking with a sky above him and not a stone slab is a little still. This tomb holds something he wants. Knowledge from an ancient past he has forgotten.

   The Lich turns his attention to this excavation and the teaching of his apprentice. It has been an age since he last had one of these and perhaps this girl is the only one he has taken on willingly and without planning on taking some terrible price from the student. He isn’t quite sure why. There is a familiarity to her. Like his soul knows hers. A strange sensation and one that grows stronger as he approaches the fledgling necromancer. He comes up behind her, hands clasping behind his back to lean over her shoulder and look upon the ancient journal in her hands.

   A grimace. Those words are familiar. They are his own. Made when he was young. Made when he was mortal and hunting for a way to cheat death. He has made great strides since those terribly embarrassing days.

   “You’re still pouring over this old thing?” the Lich sighs, straightening. “That spell is incredibly inefficient and tedious to craft. It’s asking for fresh rot gut, for pity’s sake. Do you have any idea how long it takes to produce that substance, let alone in the quantities the spell needs?”

[umbrx]

❝ Asking her to stop drinking the cocktail is equivalent to asking her to stop breathing. You could say it’s... essential to her existence. A vital part of her personality. ❞