Her hair was so soft. Like spider silk, well cared for and fine between his claws as Erimus parted it and redid his wife's braid for her. Lucina sat before him on the floor, leaning on his knees as he sat on the lounge plank.
He couldn't stop staring, staring at the white streaks in her hair that mirrored his own. At the ridges of her horns, so sharp that if he was to grab them, and she was to jerk away, she'd slice open his hand. The scars on his palms already declared the amount of times he'd done just that.
The hive was quiet. Amadri was home, but he was in his block, either reading or napping. Cody was out with Brigan, the two lowbloods doing god-knows-what this time. Probably crimes.
"What was that song?" Lucina asked suddenly, claws picking at the fluffy, deep green robe she was wrapped in.
"Aye?" He didn't look up from carefully folding one strand over the next, lest he lose track of his progress.
"The song you used to fuckin' hum when you did this for me, back on the Warshark. You always hummed a little song... Ye'd hum it when we danced on the deck, too."
Erimus frowned. "Dunno. Do ye remember it?"
There was a pause, before Lucina began humming a melody. It sounded sweet and slow, like a love song. It took a second, Erimus' fins flickering as he listened, before it clicked.
"Oh, aye, I recall now." He murmured, smiling softly, "That's the ol' siren's melody." He cleared throat and began to hum, picking up where she had left off.
The deep rumbles of his humming vibrated through his chest and throughout the block, filling the hive with the purr of a mountain as he continued to braid his love's hair.
When he finished the song, he started again from the beginning, and this time, she joined him.
"Does this song have words?" She asked as he tied off the end of her braid.
"Aye, it did, once. Don't rightly recall 'em, anymore, other than a few lines." His fingers trailed down from her head, claws lightly brushing down the back of her neck before his hands came to rest on her shoulders.
She tipped her head back into his lap to look up at him, and he gazed down at her with a soft smile on his lips. One hand abandoned its post to trace her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose.
"I only really remember 'em when I look at ye, Lucy." He breathed, stroking her sharp cheekbones, "Made it fer ya, after all. It's just been sweeps since I sang it."
"You... made that fucking song for me?"
"Aye." His finger brushed her lip, and her tongue slowly slipped between her lips to poke it. He leaned down and felt her arms wrap around his neck.
His finger slid aside so he could kiss her properly, albeit upside down, sun-chapped lips meeting soft fang-concealers. They did a poor job as he felt her smile, felt her fangs bump his nose as her claws scratched lightly over his scars and stubbled jaw.
"'Spose I could write a new song, aye?" He whispered when they parted.
Her laugh puffed softly against his neck and his gills flared, as if to drink in her happiness.
"Why would ya do that? I don't need a fuckin' siren's song, you've already got me, you bastard." She whispered back.
"Aye, but I'd write ye a thousand melodies if ye asked me to."
"Just as you'd throw yourself into the fucking sea, or be eaten by your lusus, or bring me the very fucking stars?" She asked, smiling still as she recalled all of his old promises.
"Aye, and I'd deliver, just as I did with those." He hummed.
"You never brought me the stars, you fucking liar." She huffed.
It was too easy, his own smile grew across his face. "Aye, because they were already in yer eyes." He chuckled.
There was a softness in her eyes, even as she laughed at him. "You giant fucking sap. Come here." She ordered, pulling him back into another kiss.
Erimus and Lucina get intimate for the first time in forever. Very fluffy ending.
Kinks: Female dom, oral
.
Erimus raised a hand to knock, before he hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder, at his morails, both of which grinned encouragingly and motioned for him to go ahead, from where they were peering around the corner of the hall.
Swallowing his nerves, the seadweller rapped his knuckles on the respiteblock door.
“Good luck, Ru! We’re gonna head out!” Incoding stage whispered.
Erimus could only nod, and the two other men departed the hive, to have a date night one on one.
Meanwhile, the seadweller turned back around as the door opened.
And there stood Lucina, in nothing but an eyepatch, rubbing a towel through her shower-damp hair. “Yes?”
Erimus balked in surprise, snapping his head around and covering his eyes. “Lucina! Ye’re fuckin’ naked!”
“And? Did you not say this was my fucking hive, too, now? If I want to be fucking naked in my own respiteblock then I fucking will be. It’s not my fault you fucking knocked.” The jadeblood shrugged, biting back her laughter.
“I... aye, ‘spose that’s true.” Erimus muttered, turning his head back slightly to peek at her through his fingers.
Fuck, he thought; four hundred sweeps, and she was still as gorgeous as the first time he saw her. She had new scars, wrinkles, veins and rolls, but she was still- the shark tattoo on her hip was new, too.
Lucina shifted her weight to one foot, looking up at him sharply. “If you’re done gawking down your fucking wife, is there something I can help you with?”
Erimus flushed all the way to the tips of his tattered fins. He’d forgotten what he’d come for, his thinkpan instantly tossed into the gutter like a wayward frisbee.
“Erm... oh! Right, I wanted ta see how ye were settlin’ in. If the block is alright an’ all that.” He explained hurriedly.
Lucina shook her hair out; unbraided, it was a curly mane that fell down to her ass. She grunted in acknowledgement of his words, looking back into the block.
“It’s a lot fucking smaller than the cavern, but it’s fine. Do you want to come in?” She turned away and headed further into the block. After a moment of deliberation, Erimus followed.
The block was rather dark, the only light coming from a desk lamp. Even though it was night out, the blackout curtains were drawn shut. It was cozy, though, the darkness soft and the room warm from the steam coming from the ablutionblock. The smell of Lucina’s shampoo wafted through the air, and the tension in Erimus’ shoulders loosened.
“I was about to lay down, actually.” Lucina informed him. Looking over, he saw her toss the towel aside and hook her claws under the latch of her recuperacoon, popping it open.
“So early?” He asked, surprised.
“Only for a while. I didn’t fucking sleep last night.” She climbed into the recuperacoon, sinking into it until her shoulders were the lowest point he could see. Crossing her arms, she laid her chin on them and gazed at him, as if waiting for something.
“... Do ye want me ta leave, then?” He offered uncertainly.
Lucina snorted. “Or you could join me.”
Erimus hesitated- they had yet to sleep together since she’d returned. Had yet to pail or even really discuss things. He was rusty at best, at all of this, what if he-
“Are you fucking coming?”
He looked up to see her disappear into the recuperacoon, one hand waving him closer.
Fuck it.
Stumbling in his eagerness, Erimus had stripped by the time he reached the recuperacoon. He clambered inside, to be greeted by warm slime, and soft, rubbery walls and cushions.
Lucina watched as he sat down- the slime reaching up to his waist- and reached up and closed the hatch.
He looked down at her; the lights under the slime bathed everything in a faint, green light.
The two of them stared at one another for a long moment, waiting for the other to make a move. The only sound was the low hum of the recuperacoon around them.
Erimus gave in first. He relaxed into the slime with a sigh, a small smile on his own face.
“Say it.” Lucina whispered.
“Say what?”
“What you always said when we met each other.”
Erimus chuckled. Shifting closer to her, he raised a slime-glossy hand and cupped her cheek, leaning down until their noses bumped against one another. He gazed into her brilliant jade eyes, the two words sticking in his throat for a moment.
“Hey, Lucy.” He breathed.
He saw her visibly shiver, felt her warm skin as she pressed closer, one hand slipping around the back of his neck. Her claws teased the edge of his gills as she tugged him down into a kiss.
“Hey, Erim.” She whispered back when they parted.
His hands slid around her waist, and he pulled her into his lap. She straddled his thighs, hands splayed on his chest. Erimus turned his head to nuzzle into her neck, breathing in the scent of her body soap- he didn’t have a clue what it was, but it smelled lovely.
He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers trace along the scars on his chest and shoulders. His own hands roamed, mapping out her hips and back, navigating flesh and marks that were familiar and new.
“Lucy... I wanna... that is, if yer up for it, I’m...”
“I am.”
“It’s just, it’s been so fuckin’ long, an’ I-”
“I want to, Erim.”
“I don’t mean ta be any sort o’ pushy about it, we’ve got shit ta talk about first, probably, but-”
“Erimus Faslet, if you don’t fucking pail me I swear to god I will kick you out of this fucking recuperacoon.”
Erimus froze, snapping out of his own thoughts as he realized what she said.
“Wait, really?”
He saw her eye twitch, before she broke. All the tension she carried at all times suddenly vanished, as she threw back her head and laughed.
Oh... he could have burst into tears; he hadn’t heard her laughter- her genuine, true laugh- since the night she died. It was loud, and joyful, a laugh one could hear across a ship full of drunk, shouting sailors.
He couldn’t help but pull her in and kiss her again, as if to steal the laughter from her chest. She was still chuckling as she kissed him back, hands sliding up his chest until her arms wrapped around his neck.
At the same time, his hands slid down, until he was cupping her ass. He squeezed it playfully, making her huff against his mouth. He took advantage of that, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Her tongue slid over his, feeling over his razor-teeth.
He pulled her flush with him, until he could feel her horns against his chest, and her sheath pressed against his. He made a noise low in his throat, and she pulled back.
“Fucking needy, aren’t we?” She murmured, cupping his jaw in both hands.
“Mm. It’s been a minute.” He admitted.
She snorted. “Well, you still know how to get things fucking going, don’t you?” She asked pointedly. “Lay down.”
His blood-pumper leaping in his chest, Erimus did as she said, getting comfortable against the rubber pillows.
Lucina slid off his lap and shuffled closer on her knees, until she once again straddled him- around the neck this time.
Without waiting for further instructions, Erimus hooked his arms around her thighs and pulled her close, opening his mouth.
He felt her hands wrap around his horns as his tongue dragged across her nook, up to her sheath. He heard her groan, and smiled to himself as he continued.
It took him a moment, but he soon fell into a rhythm that had her slowly rocking her hips against his chin. He felt her squeeze his horns, making him whine as pleasure burst along his scalp.
He didn’t stop, even as he felt her bulge unsheathe against his face, her nook slick against his tongue. He merely tipped his head back until he could get the tip in his mouth, before it promptly went down his throat as he took in the whole thing, mindful of his teeth, as his long tongue continued to lap at her nook.
Her moan was like an angelic choir to his earfins, and he was rewarded by a steady kneading on his horns. He sucked on her bulge like he’d die if he stopped, his hips bucking up against nothing as his own bulges unsheathed.
Using his horns like handlebars, she pulled his head up, pressing his lips against her sheath as she slowly fucked his throat. Her breath was ragged, panting, and he could barely breathe, himself; his gills fluttered, but he wasn’t underwater.
Not that he was complaining.
“Erimus.” She rasped, her thighs tightening around his head and head dropping to her chest. “Fuck, Erim... four hundred sweeps and you still make me weak.”
A purr started in his chest, which made her laugh. She suddenly released his horns and pulled back. He tossed his head back, her bulge sliding out of his mouth, as he gasped for air. His bulges twisted around one another between his legs as he opened his eyes to look at her.
Her bulge was out, both it and her thighs smeared with jade slurry, which he could still taste on his tongue and still clung to his chin and lips. They were both panting, his chest warmed by her ass. She was gorgeous.
“Why’d you stop?” He croaked, almost sounding wounded that she’d done so.
“I didn’t want to be the only one having all the fucking fun.” She shrugged, her hair falling around her shoulders as she shifted back, leaning down to kiss his nose.
“You’ve gone soft.” Erimus teased, his voice husky from his aching throat as they rubbed noses, “I remember several occasions where ye were the only one ta get ta have fun, and I had ta wait.”
Lucina hummed. “Aye, but for our first time back together, I thought you should get to have a little fun, too.”
So saying, she got off of him, and he raised himself onto his elbows to watch as she positioned herself between his legs. He hooked one around her waist, tugging her closer until his bulges found hers.
He dropped back into the slime with a deep groan as the three bulges curled together, pleasure sparking up his spine.
“Ah... fuckin’ hell, Lucy.”
He didn’t get long to enjoy the feeling, though, as she reached down and untangled their bulges. Pushing his other leg away and pinning it with her free hand, she began feeding her bulge into his dripping nook.
Erimus could have cum right then and there; no one had touched his nook, other than himself, for four hundred sweeps, and he was quite sensitive now. He keened, arms coming up to cover his face as he felt his wife’s bulge fill him.
His own bulges smeared violet across his stomach and thighs, rubbing against one another for friction.
She rumbled, low in her throat, as she leaned over him, sheathing herself fully inside him.
He felt her begin to move, her bulge twisting and curling into every spot that made him jerk or whine.
“Lucy....” he moaned. He felt her pull his arms away from his face, before her lips were on his. “Fuck.” He breathed, clinging to her shoulders as she thrust.
“Fuck.” She agreed, her lips moving down his stubbly jaw. “I’ve missed this, Erimus.”
“Me fuckin’ too.”
She kissed her way down to his gills, before she began to mouth at them, dragging her tongue across them. He groaned as he felt her fangs brush over his skin.
“Are ye goin’ ta bite me?” He asked, half joking.
“I could.”
“... I wouldn’ mind it.” He decided.
She snorted with amusement, switching to the other side of his neck to mouth at the gills there, never once slowing her hips.
She was laying atop him, her breasts pressed to his chest as one hand rubbed at his grubscars, the other near his head and petting his fin. He could feel her horns scrape against his collarbone. He had his hips canted up towards hers, his one leg still hooked around her waist.
His eyes were closed, breathing laborious as he enjoyed the feelings, pleasure burning through his lower belly in waves, in time with her movements. His body was usually cold, but in the slime, pressed against her, he was deliciously warm.
Everything was warm, and soft, pleasurable and slow... He could have fallen asleep, honestly; not because he was bored, but because it felt that good. It felt safe.
His blood-pumper was brimming over with red feelings, so much so that he pulled her away from nipping at his collarbone, to kiss her again.
“You’re crying.” She whispered when they parted. It was true; he could feel tears running down his cheeks, having gone unnoticed before. Her expression was the softest he’d ever seen it, as she cupped his face, hips slowing. “Do you want to stop?”
“Nnno-!” The word wrenched itself out of his chest. His nails dug into her shoulders, keeping her close.
She bent down, pressing her forehead to his as her hips began to move again. “Then what is it?”
He whined softly, cupping the back of her head to keep her close. “Tell me ye love me.” He whispered.
Lucina smiled down at him softly. “I love you, Erimus Faslet.”
Tears burned anew in his eyes. “I love ye, too, Lucina Evrren.”
She purred, shifting her position to twist her bulge deeper into his nook, making him whine.
“Fuck-”
“Are you close?”
“Aye.”
“As am I.” She pulled back, hands gripping his hips to pull him as close as possible. She thrusted forward, hard enough that he slid through the slime and his horns bumped the wall. He gasped, eyes rolling up as pleasure crashed through him, just on the edge of release. “Let’s fucking finished together.” He heard, but her voice was distant, nearly drowned by the roar of blood in his ears.
Erimus writhed as Lucina fucked him, her rhythm erratic, but thrusts deep and filling. His bulges squirmed, and he reached down, stroking them in time with her movements.
It never failed to make him painfully aroused, to be reduced to this. Once, outside of their recuperacoon, he was a great and feared sea captain. Now, he could hardly remember his own name as he was consumed by pleasure- by her.
“Lucina!”
Her name was wrenched from his throat as he came, twin bulges spilling twin loads of slurry across his thighs, stomach, and hand. His nook throbbed in its own orgasm, driving the jadeblood over the edge.
She bucked her hips twice, before she was spilling inside him, her claws digging into his skin. His eyes snapped open and he stared up at her, slack-jawed with awe as he watched her arch her back, throw her head back, looking like a siren upon a shore, her song made of ecstatic moans.
Erimus groaned, claws nearly puncturing the rubber bottom of the recuperacoon as he spasmed, overstimulated from the feeling of being filled. He twitched his hips up against her as she ground down against him, both of them riding out their highs.
Finally, Lucina pulled out and collapsed on his chest. Erimus sighed deeply, raising a slime covered hand and running his fingers through her curls.
“Fuck... Erim, that was..... hm.”
“Aye.”
They laid together in silence for a minute, until their breathing was back to normal.
"... One of us should fetch a fucking bucket."
Erimus grunted. "Why? Ye in a hurry ta have more grubs? Ain't three enough?"
Lucina laughed, before they lapsed into silence again for a while. Eventually, she raised her head, laying her chin on his chest to gaze up at his face, one hand tracing the scar along his shoulder. “Do you remember the last time we were together like this?” She murmured.
“Aye... The night ye died.” He opened his eyes and looked down at her, twisting a lock of hair around his finger. “It was one o’ the times I had ta chase ye down. I finally caught ye in the hall, and I carried ye back ta the cabin. We were both still bruised... when Forsaken..."
“Aye.” She smiled for a moment, before it faded. “That was so fucking long ago... All these sweeps, I’ve fucking ached for that feeling again.”
Erimus found the energy to raise his arms and wrap them around her, pulling her close to kiss her. “We’re back together now, my love. I can give ye that feelin’ as many times as ye like, fer the rest o’ our lives.”
Lucina returned the kiss, before pulling away. She rolled off of him, and into the slime, to lay beside him, curling up against his side and laying her head on his arm. “I’d like that.” She said softly; she could feel his pusherbeat under her hand. She tipped her head back to look at him again. “I’m flushed for you, Erimus. I have been, all this time.”
Erimus turned onto his side, so that they were facing one another, and took her hand in his. Their wedding bands gleamed in the faint light, and he kissed her knuckles. “I’m flushed fer ye, too, Lucina. Ain’t no one ever come close to bein’ as deep o’ crimson, or crimson at all.” He blinked slowly, his eyes growing heavy with the want to sleep.
Lucina laid her forehead against his collarbone, closing her eyes. “Aye... Don’t you ever leave me again.”
Erimus huffed, slipping his arm around her waist and holding her to him, their legs tangling together. He pressed a kiss into her hair, between her horns, as his fingers stroked down her spine. “I swear on m’ life, I won’t ever leave ye. Yer mine, just as I am yours.”
Let an old Fleet captain judge your trolls! One troll per rb, multiple rbs allowed. Judgebacks not necessary but appreciated! No warnings required, all are welcome!
TLDR: Ruthless and his quads go out for a fun night. Chaos ensues.
Tw: Drinking, fighting, murder, blood (but in a fun way)
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Lucina slammed her empty mug down at the same time as Cody, letting out a belch before she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.
"Ready to give in, you piss colored fuck? Ain't much of you left to fucking take this shit. You even got a liver?" She taunted the wasted cyborg.
"Fuckin' try me, leech!" Cody swore, before he hiccupped so bad he looked like he might be sick.
"Ru, are you not going to stop them?" Amadri asked anxiously from the next table, where the seadweller and limeblood were watching the contest.
Erimus shrugged, his cheek on his fist and a dreamy look in his eyes as he watched his wife wave down the bartender. "Cody's the one that challenged 'er. He's gonna learn one way or another that I wasn't kiddin' when I said she could drink the whole crew under th' table." He chuckled, before taking a swig of his whiskey.
"Erim! What's our fucking score?!" Lucina demanded as two more icy mugs of alcohol were set between her and Incoding.
"Yer tied at nine drinks, love." Erimus informed her, before he indicated his swaying, goldblooded morail, "Get his ass."
"Oi! No encouragement for me?" Cody spluttered.
"Why would I wish luck on a bastard that signed his own death warrant?" Erimus shrugged.
"Shut your trap, and drink!" Lucina shoved a mug into Cody's hand. They toasted, before they began to drink.
Cody kept stopping, gasping for a breath, and going back to it, as Lucina just chugged, chugged, chugged-
"She married a seadweller, all right." Amadri mumbled. Erimus snorted beside him.
Finally, they slammed their drinks down, Cody's a second behind Lucina's. Cody groaned, and Lucina raised a sharp eyebrow at him.
"You giving in, boltbucket?"
"Yeah, okay, fuck-" Cody hiccuped, "Okay, you win, Lucy. I think I'm gonna be sick. I gotta-" He lurched to his feet, his face pinched in pain.
Amadri was immediately at his side, helping the goldblood towards the ablutionsblock at the back of the bar.
Lucina sat back and watched them go, smug, before she glanced at Erimus. "Ten. I ain't even buzzed."
"I know, love. Wanna have a round wit' me?"
"Aye." Lucina bared her teeth and went to fetch more drinks. She came back, pressing a heavy rum bottle into the seadweller's hand. "Cheers, love."
They clanked their bottles together, uncorked them with their teeth, and drank. Lucina slowly lowered her bottle after a few gulps, though.
"He isn't going to die, is he?" She asked.
"Nah. Ain't nothin' can kill Cody." Erimus waved her concerns away, "He does drugs an' goes breakin' inta highblood hives on the weekends, pretty sure he ain't ever gonna die again at this rate."
Lucina laughed, and Erimus glanced over in time to see his morails returning from the ablutionsblock. "There, see? The fucker lives." He added, waving at his morails.
Both waved back, Incoding looking a little better. He still leaned on Amadri, too full of booze to stand upright. Erimus was watching them approach, when a large blueblood stood up in time to be smacked by Incoding's huge horns.
"Hey!" The highblood yelled, shocked. The two midbloods paused.
"Oh, shit, sorry, man." Incoding said, slurring only a little, "I didn'-" He broke off with a yelp as the cobalt seized his vest.
"That hurt, you pissblooded fuck, I aughta-"
He got no further, as Lucina moved. Faster than the rest of the patrons could track, she was at the colbalt's throat, the knife from her boot pressed to his neck.
"Drop him. I'm the only one who gets to call him that." She snarled. Erimus rose to his feet at the same time the blueblood's party did.
"Lads, you don't want this fight." He called, ready to be the ashen mediator for both groups. "My woman can start and finish a bar fight, I promise ye."
The blueblood looked between him, Cody, Lucina, and his own crew of all highbloods.
"I think we do, act-"
Blood was spurting from his throat before he could finish that sentence, and Erimus just rolled his eyes as the bar descended into madness.
Not one to be left out, or leave his quads to defend themselves, though, he downed the rest of his drink, smashed it, and dove into the fray. His knuckles smashed through noses, his claws ripped through fins and flesh, and he reminded everyone why he was called Deepbite when he sank his massive shark teeth into a purpleblood's jugular.
Screaming, yelling, bottles and furniture breaking, and the stench of booze and blood quickly filled the small tavern. Glancing up from the carnage, Ruthless watched Lucina smash a full wine bottle over another violet's head.
She glanced up, then, and met his eyes, her own glittering like emeralds imbued with bloodlust.
"Ru, I think we should go!" Amadri shouted to be heard from his post by the door, "Drones!"
That word made the whole bar leap into action, scattering for the door and busted windows. Incoding cackled. "Oh, oh! My turn to ssshhow off! Time ta run!" He declared, before he took off, too.
(Something for Survivor's birthday. Besties can have some lore, as a treat.)
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Bladepen stared out the window, humming to emself, eir claws drumming on the windowsill in thought.
Enforcer looked over at his lover. "What are you thinking about, Dolly?"
"I am... reminiscing, on old experiments, my love." Dolion replied, eir cup of tea forgotten on the windowsill as ey looked out at the sea. "Tonight is the anniversary of the creation of my greatest failure."
Enforcer raised a brow. "Krakyn?"
"Mhm. It is a pity he failed in so many places. As a soldier, as an experiment... as your heir."
Enforcer only shrugged, resuming his work of polishing his gauntlets. "It is not your fault, Dolly. He hatched wrong. That is why we went through with Fayroe's creation."
"And then that one ended up wrong." Bladepen's tail lashed.
"It happens. I have not given up on Fayroe yet. What was the surname you gave the other one?"
"Jaybez. It means "forgotten king.""
Godric chuckled. "How poetic of you."
Dr. Ursida didn't respond, lost in memories. The scars on eir tail ached as ey recalled the utter, crushing disappointment ey had felt, when ey had to explain that "Subject: Krakyn" was a lost cause.
Ey had accepted eir punishment- the bell-bands similar to what eir descendant wore now- and had turned the failure over to the Fleet to be disposed of. That wasn't what ended up happening, but Godric had forgiven Dolion in the end, and removed the bands.
Through the grape vine, Dolion had kept a bifurcated ear out for news on eir failure, tracking his progress and growth, up until ey'd been speared through the chest by the experiment's "mother."
Ey knew Krakyn was still out there, same as the other failure- the one with the symbiote attached to him- but Dolion couldn't be bothered to wonder about what it was doing now. Wherever it was, Dolion had no doubt it was cold, dark, and isolating, as it should be.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Lucina and Erimus, bundled up against the cold of the Alternian winter, waited with baited breath in their rowboat. They didn't have to wait long, before the telltale scratching of claws along the bottom of the boat came to them.
Grinning, the jade and violet stamped their feet in response. Moments later, the glassy surface of the sea was disturbed, cut through by the massive, bright red fin atop their son's head.
Four eyes blinked at the couple, butterfly fins waving hypnotically.
"Hello, mother. Hello, father." Krakyn whispered, raising his head out of the water and moving closer. Lucina leaned out, touching and then embracing her son's face. A hand three times her size ever so carefully wrapped around her for a moment, soaking her cloak and jacket.
"Hello, Krakyn. Happy wriggling day." Lucina whispered back, kissing the corner of his lower left eye.
Krakyn made a noise that sent frothing ripples through the water. Erimus chuckled and got to his feet, moving forward to embrace his son, too.
"How old are ye again, lad? Six sweeps?" He asked, smiling.
"Four hundred and seventy three sweeps." Krakyn corrected quietly.
Ruthless scoffed. "That can't be right. Just yesterday ye were this big." He dropped his hand down to the height of his waist.
Krakyn's brows furrowed. "No, I was not." He mumbled.
"Your father is joking with you, angelfish." Lucina explained, elbowing the violetblood.
"Oh." Krakyn said, before he looked at his father. "Did you bring the device?"
"Aye, lad." Ruthless reached in his coat and pulled it out, before he turned to Lucina. "Krakyn an' I had a talk the other day. He wants ta show ye where he lives."
The device he held out was a rare one indeed; a breathing apparatus for landdwellers, that would allow them to breathe like a seadweller underwater.
"I... Down there?" Lucina looked into the water.
"Father has seen it. I have seen it. Ashhur has seen it. Even my brother and sibling have seen it. Mother has not."
"Brother and- Ye mean Makeno and Alaric? They've come ta see ye?" Erimus asked, incredulous.
"Yes."
Lucina was already taking off her cape and jacket. "I want to see it, too. Give me the fucking thing."
Erimus passed it over, shedding his own jacket and his piece. Lucina put the device on with an uncomfortable huff. It wrapped around her neck, covering her nose and mouth and sending a pair of tubes up her nostrils, as synthetic gills on the sides flapped. Once in the water, they'd convert the water into oxygen for her. He also handed her goggles for her eye, which she dutifully slipped on.
When she was ready, Erimus took her hand, and helped her into the water.
She hissed at the contact. "It's fucking cold."
"Ye get used ta it." Erimus assured her.
"Here, mother." Krakyn cupped his mother in his hands, pulling her to his chest; the mutant radiated heat like a furnace, and she pressed against her son's chest as they sank into the water.
Once they were submerged, Erimus dove after them, letting out a breath as he went.
Icy seawater filled his gills and he inhaled deeply, streaming bubbles out of his mouth.
He twisted, looking for his family, and saw them waiting nearby. Survivor was so big that, were it not for his bioluminescent stripes, Erimus would be unable to see his body as it dangled into the darkness.
With natural grace, he swam towards them, his own bioluminescent freckles lighting up.
Lucina was sat on Krakyn's palm, watching him approach. "Are ye alright, Lucy?"
She nodded, and took Erimus' hand when he offered it.
"Alright, lad, let's show 'er." Erimus addressed his son. The monstrous mutant nodded, and began to sink towards the deep. Holding onto Lucina so they wouldn't get separated, Erimus swam after him.
Down, down, down they went, until the rowboat was indistinguishable from the darkness around them. The only light came from the two seadwellers, and the volcanic vents far, far below.
Only then did Krakyn pause. He glanced at his parents, before he made an odd sound.
It was a popping, humming sound, that reverberated through the water and made Erimus' teeth hurt. Without his meaning to, his freckles flared a little brighter.
He wasn't the only thing that did that, though. Like a park on 12th Perigree, the ocean lit up.
What was inky darkness became a light show as creatures, invisible moments ago, lit up. Fish, sharks, jellyfish, whales, seals, and monsters that had no name. Freckles, stripes, tentacles, teeth, fins and eyes- all of them glowed in every color of the spectrum.
Beside him, Lucina cried out softly, awed. Both seadwellers watched her twist about to watch a blue glowing shark silently glide past.
"This is my home." Survivor said, his voice as soft as the currents around them. "These are my neighbors. You asked before if I was lonely in the dark, mother. I was not. It is never dark, and I am never alone. Although I hurt when you leave, you come back, and my neighbors keep me company until you do."
The mutant reached out, his fins lighting up, too, as he ran his hand over a passing whale, that called softly and turned away.
"It's beautiful, Krakyn." Lucina said quietly, her voice slightly muffled by the device. The jadeblood's eye was wide as she watched a school of shimmering turtles glide by.
Krakyn hummed, pleased. He showed her other things; the glowing plant life, the warm vents, even the massive cavern he tucked himself into to rest in when he was tired. Erimus trailed after them; he'd seen it a before, but he reveled in his wife's reaction to the hidden world below.
"You've made a beautiful fuckin' life down here, Krakyn." Lucina murmured, as the three of them watched a monster, indescribable but for it's hundreds of teeth and glowing eyes, move silently past.
Krakyn said nothing for a long moment, using his finger to push a jellyfish the size of a spaceship away.
"You told me to survive, mother. You said, at any cost, that I deserved to survive. It was my own descendant, Ashhur, that told me I should do more than that, though."
"And what did he mean by that, do you think?" Lucina mused.
Krakyn turned to her, his usually stony face for once broken up by a smile.
"I did more than survive, mother. I lived. I thrived."
Bubbles streamed out of Lucina's breathing apparatus as she clutched her son's fingers. "And I couldn't be more fucking proud of you, Krakyn Jaybez."
TLDR: Musrio has a talk with Oliver and the ancestors.
TW: None
~~~~~~~~
Musrio knew exactly what god had chosen to shove its bulge up his wastechute and fuck him over when he’d walked into Scarbucks to see none other than Oliver fucking Maddel standing at the counter, chatting amicably with the barista.
The sun had only just set, so the coffeehive was nearly empty, and Oliver turned her head at the sound of the dongshouter above the door ringing. Musrio froze on the spot, despite Oliver being unable to see him. As he watched, a small, knowing smile spread across Oliver’s face, and the rustblood knew beyond doubt that Oliver knew exactly who stood behind her.
“Good morning, Almawt.” He said politely.
Musrio said nothing, rooted to the spot by his surprise. After a moment, he shook himself out of it, magic springing to his palms as he braced himself for the oliveblood to make a move. And since Oliver couldn’t see him, he flipped them the finger.
Oliver seemed unperturbed by his silence. “I was hoping to come across you soon, you know. I didn’t realize it would be now, but, ah well. Better now than never, darling. Come, order your drink, on me. We should talk.”
“What makes you think I want to talk to you?” Musrio scowled.
“Oh, I know you don’t want to, but I think you and I need to. Just give me ten minutes, darling.”
“I’d rather eat glass. Ribbit.” Musrio spat.
Oliver tittered, taking her drink from the barista. “With the amount of venom you ingest, would that even do anything?” She inquired, turning to fully face him. “Five minutes, then? That’s all I’m asking for. Perhaps we can set some of our grievances aside.”
Musrio narrowed his eyes, understandably suspicious. Oliver tisked, shaking his head.
“Well, I’ll be over here if you change your mind. Darling, put this man’s drink on my tab.” They said, talking to the barista over their shoulder, before they turned and headed for a booth far away from the other patrons, their cane clicking against the floor.
Musrio strongly considered turning around and walking back out. His feet were burning with the urge. At the very least, he was going to get what he came for, though. He approached the counter and gave them his order; a black coffee with as much espresso they were legally allowed to give him, and whipped cream.
It came out rather quickly, and he took it to the personalization station, watching Oliver out of the corner of his eye the entire time.
The oliveblood had taken a seat, and was tapping on his palmhusk, an earpiece reading out his claw’s placement on the screen as his purse and cane laid on the bench beside him.
Musrio reached into his robe, to his satchel, and removed a vial of a viscous, clear fluid. He splashed a healthy amount into the coffee and stirred it, before pouring in a few packs of sugar. He turned towards the oliveblood again, debating himself silently for several seconds.
Finally, he approached the booth, and wordlessly slid into the opposing bench.
Oliver didn’t look up from her palmhusk, but she smiled. “So glad you decided to join me, darling.”
“Five minutes starts now.” Musrio said pointedly.
Oliver hummed, flicking tabs away on their palmhusk before closing it down and setting it aside. “Indeed.” They knitted their fingers together, resting their chin on them. Even with their eyes covered, Musrio got the impression Oliver was staring him down. “We have quite the history together, don’t we, Almawt?”
“No, we don’t.”
“Oh, but we do. Perhaps not directly, but we shared one very important troll.”
“We didn’t share them; you took them away and gave me back the broken pieces. Ribbit.” Musrio snapped.
“If that is how you remember it, darling, sure.” She hurried on as Musrio opened his mouth to speak, “You know, it’s quite funny. I don’t even know what you look like, darling, yet this… animosity has grown so dark between us, that even I am blinded by it. I am thankful that I am a phoenix, so that I might have a chance to cut through the murk with a gracing light.”
Musrio scoffed. “What are you getting at, Oliver?”
“I am getting at your surrender, Musrio.” Oliver said bluntly, his smile suddenly dropped.
“My what?”
“I am asking you politely, and once: I ask that you surrender your side now, before this gets messy and trolls get hurt. I don’t care if you join me or not, but simply… stop fighting. There’s no way you can win- you see that, don’t you?”
Musrio’s claws dug into his palms as he curled his hands into fists. “Trolls are going to get hurt regardless, Oliver- you’re planning a fucking genocide! Ribbit!”
Oliver sighed, shaking his head. “Sacrifices must be made, for the good of-”
“The only troll this would be good for is you.” Musrio cut them off.
“Darling, please. Surely someone as logical as you can see how the odds are stacked? On my side, I have the entirety of the Black Hand- nearly three hundred strong- BB, the Enforcer, and the Bladepen.
You have a drunk, a chef, a pair of broken batteries, a pair of mangy mutts, a gardener, a rancher, a madman, a chronically sick child, a philosopher, a retired soldier, and a failure.” She listed them off like she’d practiced this. “That’s not even to mention those of us who are undecided, such as the Hounding, the mutant reds, and the dear prince. Your side is mere has-beens and broken trolls, darling. I am offering you a chance to surrender with grace, rather than see them all culled.”
Musrio took a deep gulp of coffee in hostile silence, setting his cup down with force. “That’s where you’re wrong, Oliver.” He said, his voice dark. “I “have” nothing. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for demons and shifter-beasts and robots. I didn’t ask for soldiers and thieves. They took a good look at the fight you’re trying to start, and chose to back up the one troll you seem afraid of. Ribbit.”
Oliver scoffed. “I’m not afraid of you, Musrio.”
“Then why are we having this discussion?” The rustblood demanded, “If you aren’t afraid, why meet me like this?”
“Because I, platonically, pity you, darling. Watching this all go down is like watching a warren of hop-beast grubs try to fight a howl-beast. Frankly, it’s depressing that the Infinite Scapegrace thought you were a suitable rival to strengthen me.”
Musrio’s mouth opened in shock. “You think that’s what this is? Ribbit?” He hissed, “That I’m some big obstacle your god put in your way to test your mettle?”
Oliver tipped his head. “Of course, darling. Why else would you be so inferior, yet so maddeningly annoying?” Musrio growled, low in his chest, and Oliver raised her hands in surrender. “No offense.”
“Oh, all offenses taken.” Musrio snapped. He slid out of the booth, standing up. “I think I’m done here. I’m not surrendering, Oliver. That’s not a fucking option anymore. I don’t give a damn about you, your god, or even this piece of shit world, but I do give a rat’s ass about the fact that you collectively ruined my fucking life. Ribbit. Fuck you, fuck the Black Hand, and fuck Neviserrath.” Oliver tensed in his seat, “I didn’t ask for this. All I fucking wanted was to be a professor and marry my partner. But since you ruined that, since you started this bullshit and I got no say in my participation, I’m going to put an end to it. Ribbit!”
He spat out the final croak, snatched up his coffee, and stormed out.
It took the entirety of the twenty minute walk down to the docks for him to calm down. He called Drayco as soon as he was a few blocks away from the coffeehive and told them everything that had happened.
“Holy shit, babe.” Was Drayco’s response, “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Mush.” The bronzeblood sighed, “I… I don’t know what to do or say. This all started because of m-”
“Don’t, Dee.” Musrio said forcefully, before his dropped into an almost uncharacteristic softness, “This isn’t your fault. It’s Oliver’s. You know that. Ribbit.”
“… Yeah, I know.”
“This will be over soon, Dee, and we can put this all behind us. We just need to find Lucina.”
“Are you headed to them now?”
“Yeah. I’d just stopped off to get a drink.”
He heard Drayco suck in a sharp, gurgling breath. “Well, good luck, then. Call me after and tell me how it goes.”
“I will.”
“Okay. I love you, Mushy.”
“I love you, too. Ribbit.”
Musrio hung up as he approached the docks, and ascended the ramp of the Warshark. Standing on the deck, smoking a cigarette, was the Ruthless Deepbite.
He let out his breath, smoke streaming from his mouth and gills.
“They’re all waitin’ in the dinin’ block fer ya, lad.”
Musrio paused, looking up at the violetblood. “You know what this is about, don’t you?”
Ruthless nodded, the haunted and exhausted look in his eyes, for once, slightly alleviated by the faintest spark of hope. “Aye. There’s only one color left.” He looked out towards the water, his tattered fins flickering. “Krakyn wanted ta be here fer this, but he can’t come this close ta shore.” He said.
“You can tell him about this afterwards. Ribbit.”
“Aye.” Ruthless dropped the butt and crushed it under his boot, before he turned and headed for the hatch. “Come on, then.”
He hauled open the hatch, and let Musrio into the bowls of the ancient ship.
Down the corridor, Ruthless let him into a large room that once crammed a crew of four dozen trolls into tables to eat.
Now, only the Incoding, the Innocent, the Decaying, the Deadscar Wanderer, and, inexplicably, the Hounding and Ashhur, sat around a table, the former sat on the opposite end of the two latter. They all looked up as Musrio and Ruthless Deepbite entered.
“Welcome, young Almawt.” Innocent signed politely.
“Hi. Thank you all for coming.” Musrio nodded. Awkwardly, he took a seat at the head of the table, while Ruthless took a seat between his morails. Taking a sip of his coffee, he cleared his throat. “I… suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here.” He internally cringed at saying such a cliché line. “Well…” He took a deep breath, trying to settle his sudden onset of nerves; he’d never been in a room with so many adults before. “I’ve got a lot to explain.”
Knocking back another gulp of poisoned coffee, the adults were silent as Musrio launched into the story; his death, his revival, his title as the second harbinger, the Black Hand, Neviserrath Apocriyna, the chosen child, the ritual, Oliver’s goal, and his mission. He spoke for over an hour without pause, leaving nothing out as he explained the reasons for their revivals, and why he’d needed them in the first place.
“… and now,” He said, his throat beginning to ache from talking for so long, “we’ve come down to the final color: Jade. Ribbit.”
Musrio watched Innocent and Incoding’s eyes slide directly to Ruthless.
The large seadweller swallowed. “But ya’ve tried a hundred times ta bring her back, lad. Nothin’s worked.”
“That’s the thing.” Musrio shifted in his seat, “The Hierophant came to me, and told me why we’d been failing.” He leaned forward, “Ruthless, your wife isn’t dead.”
A very loud silence fell as the violetblood’s face went slack with disbelief. “… She…?” He tried to speak, his voice faint. Slowly, he began to shake his head. “No, no, that can’t be right! She died in my arms! I watched-”
Musrio held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not denying that she died. She did. Ribbit. But she came back, long before I ever even hatched. She’s a rainbow drinker, Ruthless, and she’s waiting for us, somewhere.”
Ruthless sat back in his seat, before he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands as he digested this. His fins began to flare, before they drooped, only to hesitantly flutter upwards again. Incoding and Innocent each put a comforting hand on his shoulders as he digested this.
For a minute, Musrio honestly thought the seadweller was going to cry. At last, though, he took a deep breath and sat up again, running a hand over his face. “I…” he shook his head. “Okay. Sorry. Okay. My wife’s alive.” His voice cracked, “Where is she?”
At that, Musrio could only shake his head. “I don’t know. She could be anywhere on Alternia- for all I know, she could be off-world. We need to plan, to-”
“To what? We can’t possibly sweep the entire planet for her.” Incoding interjected.
“I know that.” Musrio huffed, “But we need some place to start.” He turned to Ruthless, “Think, Deepbite. There must be a place the two of you went to that she’d know you’d think of, or something. Ribbit.”
Ruthless frowned, brows furrowing in thought. “… No. The only places I could think of would be ‘er grave, or here. Most everythin’ ‘tween us happened on this tub.” He stamped his foot, and the ship responded with a creak. “An’ trust me, I’d know if she were here.”
Musrio swallowed the growl in his throat. “Well, then…” His gaze wandered the room, as if the answer would be scrawled on the walls. He turned to Deadscar, next. “What about you? You’ve been all over Alternia, have you seen anywhere that could be a rainbow drinker’s hideout? Ribbit?”
The Wanderer considered it for a moment, before he shook his head. “That is too vague a question. I have seen hundreds of places where it would be easy for a rainbow drinker to dwell.” He rumbled.
Musrio reached up and fiddled with his necklace, thinking. Looking over the gathered trolls again, his gaze landed on his own ancestor, the Decaying Mind.
Brigan was staring fixatedly at him.
“… You know, don’t you?” Musrio asked him.
He nodded.
“What?” Ruthless rounded on the older rustblood, “How?”
Musrio sighed. “Brigan saw all of this happen before it even occurred, when he was caught between life and death. Ribbit. It destroyed most of his mind, which is why I gave him his title.” He explained.
“Rotted, totted, off to the maggots.” Brigan hummed, drumming his fingers on the table.
“Then tell us, Bri.” Incoding took his matesprit’s hand, squeezing it gently, “Where is Lucina?”
Brigan looked up at him, squinting at the goldblood’s face. “Oh, Cody…” he sighed, making Incoding start in surprise.
“Where is she, Almawt?” Ruthless repeated, more forcefully.
Brigan began to sway, his lips pursed. Slowly, he scowled. “Words, words, words. Rotten like my pan, spilling black ink on black paper. Leviathan drowned by wolf, heralded by scorpion, stealing my lexicon. Incomprehensible, even to the Ebonblack.” He said, sounding frustrated.
“… What?” Innocent asked.
That was when Ashhur suddenly stood up. He walked around the table to face Decaying, leaning towards him. “Incomprehensible, against the Ebonblack.” He chirred, “Scrambled eggs in fried pan. Indigestible for gods. Poison. Use it.”
“Brat, what’re you doin’?” Hounding growled. Ruthless shushed him, as Decaying fixed his gaze on the young mutant.
Ashhur made several clicks and hums, all four eyes blinking out of sync. “The raining bows sipper is…” more clicks, “hiding. You know?” He asked.
Decaying nodded, enthralled. “I know.” He agreed, a look of hopeful wonder on his face as he stared at Ashhur.
“Where do you know?”
“Where do I know…” Decaying repeated, scratching his stubbly cheek. He opened his mouth and shut it several times. “The monster.” He said at last, seeming pleased with himself. He pointed at Ashhur, “Monster to monster, water to sand. No- no water, but the sapphire eye, guarding to the metal serpent. Beast of thirst, watching beast of slake, guarded by beast of bone. You know?”
All of Ashhur’s fins waved, almost hypnotically, as he thought this over, Decaying leaning forward with anticipation. Finally, Ashhur turned to Hounding. “What call you, the place of sand with no water?”
“The desert?” Hounding raised an eyebrow.
Decaying slapped his free hand onto the table, shook it out, and pointed at Hounding, nodding emphatically. “Desert, dessert, sweetness in sugar sand and gritted gold.” He turned to Ruthless. “Therein lies the where I know, what I know, who is known. Follow the screaming serpent’s trail, into the red, and find the corpse of lifeless gods.” He said, as if that was both comprehensible and important.
“Cody?” Ruthless turned to his morail, hoping for a translation.
“The hound of war lies in the desert.” Ashhur spoke instead, “Guarded by a beast, of one kind or many.”
“Okay… what’s a screaming serpent?” Incoding inquired.
Ashhur looked to Decaying.
“Metal, screaming, scuttling upon legs of centipede, but a serpent none the less.”
“Oh- a trackscuttler.” Incoding realized. He glanced at Ashhur, impressed. “How did you… manage to make him do that?”
Ashhur shrugged. “He cannot speak the way his pan speaks. I am,” he hesitated, clicking to himself, “broken worded, with your tongue. Broken tongue,” He pointed at himself, “broken thinkpan.” He pointed at Decaying, “Together, we make the words.”
“Well, then...” Innocent signed, “We head to the desert, and follow the trackscuttler trail.”
“All of us? That seems… like a bad idea.” Incoding frowned, “We don’t know where in the desert she is, or even which desert. The supplies alone would be a huge burden, and-”
“Then I’ll go.” Deadscar interrupted shortly. He rose to his feet, “I have crossed many deserts. I can search on my own.”
“Now, hang on.” Hounding squinted at Ishran, “Why the hell are ya goin’? I’m the tracker; my name is the Messiah’s damned Houndin’, after all.”
As one, the entire table turned to look at him. “... Why are you here, even?” Innocent inquired, “Last I checked, you weren’t on our side.”
Hounding nodded to Musrio. “The scumblood told me I aught’a come. Said I could get away from Godric.”
“I thought Godric was your boss.” Innocent pointed out, “He is the one that set you on us in the first place. Why would you want to get away from him?”
Hounding eyed the limeblood reproachfully. “Name one laborer that actually likes their foreman, sewerblood, an’ I’ll hang up my ax. Motherfucker pays me ta clean up his messes, but that doesn’t mean I want ta do it. The jobs the church gives me are more important than offin’ off some bitchblood with a big mouth.”
“...”
All the other adults gave each other a look.
Musrio shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Hounding is no longer the bigger threat here. We have Oliver, and the Enforcer to worry about. Ancient animosities have to be set aside. Ribbit.”
“It’s true…” Incoding said thoughtfully, before he snorted a laugh and turned to Hounding, “You’re basic, big guy. You’re season one’s villain.”
Hounding growled at him. “I could still rip ya in half right now, pissblood.”
“An’ ye’d get a bullet in the eye fer it.” Ruthless hissed.
“Stop.” Musrio said sharply, “Now isn’t the time.”
“Aye.” Ruthless agreed, looking around. “But it’s decided, then? Ishran’ll head fer the desert ta search fer Lucina. When ‘e finds her, we’ll come a’runnin’.”
The others nodded.
Ishran turned towards the door. “No point in wasting time. I will leave now.”
“Already?” Innocent asked, surprised.
Ishran looked towards his former charge, his expression momentarily softening. “Yes. I will be in touch.” He said, before striding out the door.
With that, Musrio rose to his feet, before he bowed to the gathered ancestors. “You have my thanks, all of you, for hearing me out. And… I’m sorry, for all of this. If it was my choice, I would have left your souls to rest. Ribbit.”
The gathering broke up, then, Hounding and Ashhur leaving promptly after. Musrio stood on the deck of the Warshark, texting Drayco as the three morails chatted nearby. The young rustblood looked up as a hand touched his shoulder.
“Puzzle to puzzle, pieces to rest.” Decaying murmured, coming to stand beside him. He looked up at the moons; they were full and fat that night, bathing everything in silvery purple and green. “Connected, all of them, until the picture is made blurry by the buried secrets. Clicked together, string to thumbtack, followed by the puppet wires, until they all tie behind the boy with demons in his blood and gods in his brain.”
He looked down at Musrio again, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he gazed intensely at his descendant. “The line will be blurred, paint will spill, but painters spared. Follow the lines, balance, tight-rope walking, but let ashen feathers run amok. Flames consume breath until redemption breaks the puzzle. The bane of worlds and innocent constellations will be the salvation of us all.”
He squeezed Musrio’s shoulder, before he wandered away, leaving the young rustblood to contemplate the oncoming events.
