#post plot drop 2

[ezekielurquhart]

@hayliel​ location: the streets notes: they say that a hero can save us

A snap resounded around him as Ezekiel’s neck forced itself back into place and blue eyes opened again, hunger stirred inside of him and his throat burned. He couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t think of anything really besides how starved he was. When the vampire tried to move he found that he couldn’t, marshal chains had him firmly bound, a parting gift from Rhiannon as the vampire writhed and squirmed in place. All younger and desire as he rocked back and forth, jaws snapping like a caged monster. Bitch, he thought, I’m so hungry- I’m going to- it felt like his body was drying up, his veins turning to stone, his limbs slowly desiccating as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Help me!” Ezekiel could smell the other’s blood, he rolled around on his back, all aching teeth and burning limbs. A drop, two, that was all he needed. He didn’t want it to end like this, burning away from the inside, somehow it felt right, maybe it was what he deserved. Ezekiel thought about Hazal, he was sorry and he wouldn’t get the chance to say it. “Please!”

[micahxwright]

@ptolemasroar​

The now-former-shifters were quick to leave the scene of the crime, and out of familiarity, Micah led Ptolema back to his apartment. He needed to meet up with Toby and Emory - make sure that Ale was okay too, and Rowan, but if the veil was truly down then that meant that Toby didn’t have a lot of time left. It meant that maybe he was dead already. He shook the thought away, he refused to believe that, refused to believe that this was even permanent. Someone-somewhere had to be working on a solution, witches, genasi, rifts, whatever the fuck it took, someone needed to find a way. He needed his magic, Ptolema needed her immortality, Micah needed Toby. 

“We’ll be safe here.” Micah commented, weary for a few moments, she’d looked at the man on the ground as if he was a stranger, and had given him only a vaguely familiar glance before following him here. The body that they ditched was probably dead by now, no doubt already attracting the attention of local law enforcement - Micah could hear sirens, but he had no idea in what direction they were headed. He studied Ptolema for a few moments now that they had time. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

[dantexlykos]

@corinthbaystarters​

Location: Dionysus’s Bar

All his life, from his earliest childhood memories, Dante had had his magic to rely on. Even in his infancy, it had marked him as different from others in his coven: earth where they were almost all water. His magic was an old friend, one he’d always been able to rely on, to turn to. He depended on it so completely, so wholly, now that it was gone he did not know what was left of him. Dante supposed he had a trade, tattooing, artistry, these were things he could fill his time with, but they weren’t anything like what inspired him, what drove him. Asking him to pick up his tools again was no different than asking a painter to pick up the brush after he’d lost his hands, or a poet to transcribe a limerick after his tongue had been pulled from his skull. 

Dante buried his dart in the board, maybe a bit too aggressively, but it hit the mark just the same. His brow deep and unsettled, he wanted his magic back, but the veil had been gone for a couple of days now, and after pouring through ever resource he could think of, he’d come up with nothing. So, Dante had taken the only natural route that came to mind: he was going to get mind-numbingly drunk and throw darts. “You’re up.”

[oneiroixnemesis]

@noahkramer​

There was something to be said about a self-fulfilled prophecy: had the oneiroi never known their fate, would that have changed it? 

The storm parted, Ezio left their side, and when only they were left with Noah as two mortal souls stripped of their magic, it became clear what had happened. The veil was gone, and with it went the tether that kept their soul to this realm, they along with their kind would be pulled back to Nyx. The form that bound them, the magic that sustained them, these things would be gone, and all that would be left was air and fire. They did not remember anything from before their creation, so all they could imagine what awaited them after this was the cruelest of abysses: nothing. 

They did not want to fade away in their apartment, if this was truly their last look of the world, then they wished to see it from the summit. So, they’d dragged Noah along to live out their future exactly as they had envisioned it, in retrospect, it was apparent that the spot where they had proposed was the precise location that the oneiroi had seen in the vision they had bestowed upon Noah. They had thought it was familiar at the time, but truly Nemesis just thought that it had been a weird instant of deja vu. 

Now human, Nemesis’s question about Noah’s soul was at last answered: it was not the quality of being a phoenix that had attracted the spirit, but the quality of the man that the phoenix flame had nested around. 

“I love you.” Nemesis whispered when at last they reached the summit, they were afraid, terrified even, and what was worse was they had no inclination how much time they had left. The oneiroi looked at their hand now and saw that it was completely transparent, so this is death. They thought to themselves, it did not feel how they had imagined it would. “I’m sorry I-” they bit their lip and thought for a moment on what words they could levy against the other that might make this situation feel fair. But it wasn’t, it was cruel, they had lived so many lives, so many years, but they had only truly been happy for a handful of months. Happiness that was all due to Noah. “I failed you.”