#vaako: threads

[immortalmuses]

@rulesthedrk  sent:  "Death  by  tea  cup."  /  I  can  just  see  them  comparing  kills  with  one  another  over  hooch,  lol

The  Chronicles  of  Riddick  Starter  Prompts  |  accepting!

ㅤㅤㅤVaako  leans  back  in  his  seat  with  a  scoff,  shoulders  digging  into  the  cold  metal  of  the  aggressively  upright  council  chair  (one  of  those  typically  reserved  for  sycophantic  members  of  the  Nobility  class).  He  narrows  his  eyes  in  poorly-disguised  incredulity,  and  kicks  a  booted  foot  out  to  knock  against  Riddick's  own.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Your  words  smack  of  a  lie.  You  don't  even  drink  tea.” 

ㅤㅤㅤThey're  in  the  Lord-Marshal's  receiving  chamber,  a  room  that  hasn't  seen  much  use  since  Riddick  took  power  and  summarily  stopped  entertaining  any  entreaties  of  the  Necromonger  upper  class.  In  this  at  least,  Siberius  has  no  complaints.  He  might  take  issue  with  a  great  many  of  the  Furyan's  ruling  decisions,  but  defanging  the  power-hungry  elite  of  Necromonger  society?  Is  not  one  of  them. 

ㅤㅤㅤThe  Commander  is  out  of  his  heavy  armor  plating  for  once,  his  figure  made  smaller  by  comparison,  though  lean  and  hardpacked  with  muscle.  And  the  high  proof  liquor  shared  in  glasses  between  them  (some  kind  of  engine-fuel-rot-gut  that  Riddick  had  all  but  challenged  Vaako  to  drink)  has  made  him  uncharacteristically  loose  limbed.  Loose  lipped  as  well,  it  seems. 

ㅤㅤㅤ“If  I'm  to  believe  you've  killed  someone  with  a  tea  cup,  then  you  cannot  challenge  my  recounting  of  that  rebel's  severed  arm.”  And  anyway,  that  story  is  actually  true. 

[immortalmuses]

for  @rulesthedrk ,  continued  from  here

ㅤㅤㅤLord  Vaako  doesn't  flinch  (hasn't,  since  the  purification  that  converted  him  to  Necromonger  half-dead),  but  he's  also  not  a  fool.  There  is  perhaps  no  one  more  dangerous  aboard  the  Basilica  than  Lord  Marshall  Riddick,  a  breeder  with  no  interest  in  keeping  even  the  most  useful  of  his  subjects  from  an  untimely  death.  He  is  unpredictable  in  a  way  that makes  Zhylaw  seem tame.

ㅤㅤㅤSo.  Siberius  doesn't  flinch.  But  he  does  tilt  his  chin  to  one  side  as  the  blade  of  Riddick's  knife  flashes  past,  bloodlessly  nicking  his  ear  before  embedding  in  the  wall  behind  him.  The  commander  has  no  doubt  this  tell  will  vindicate  the  Lord  Marshal  (and  his  insufferable,  cocky  grin).  The  look  he  slants  at  Riddick  from  beneath  his  brows  burns  with  banked  ire. 

ㅤㅤㅤ“I  did  knock--”  Vaako  bites  back,  peevish  despite  how  he  holds  himself  in  the  deferential  position  of  parade  rest.  “--  You  seemed  otherwise  engaged.  Again."

ㅤㅤㅤAnd  perhaps  this  is  the  crux  of  the  displeasure  Siberius  cannot  hide. That  Riddick  should  prove  himself  so  utterly  capable  of  leading  the  Necromonger  Fleet,  to  be  worthy  of  seeking  transcendence  at  the  gates  of  the  Underverse…  and  yet  be  so  uninterested  in  taking  up  the  responsibility  as  is  fitting  of  his  rule.

ㅤㅤㅤNecromongers  live  by  the  creed:  Obedience  Without  Question.  Vaako  has  devoted  his  undying  life  to  this  motto,  and  yet…  In  the  silence  of  his  own  mind,  he…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdoubts

ㅤㅤㅤ“I  am  First  Among  Commanders.""  He  reminds  Riddick,  mouth  fighting  back  a  scowl,  “…and  as  such,  it  falls  on  me  to  aid  you  in  your…  duties.. Which do actually amount to more than flinging knives at the walls."

[immortalmuses]

For @magikborn, continued from here

ㅤㅤㅤVaako follows the pointed direction of Riddick's Ulak with his gaze, spotting the bloodied heap of a lesser general lying dead in the outer chamber. The blood on the Commander's teeth turns to a fine mist as he expels a snarl.

ㅤㅤㅤ"This has all the hallmarks of an attempted coup," Scowling, Siberius ducks briefly into the en-suite bathing chamber to collect a towel. He emerges swiping at the blood smeared across his mouth, before offering Riddick the towel to wipe his blades clean. ".... and my intel suggests it is once again a member of the Nobility, unable to accept your rule because..." Vaako pauses, then grimaces, "...because you have not been purified."

ㅤㅤㅤThe Necromonger keeps his own thoughts about that to himself, knowing it is not a conversation that will go anywhere worthwhile. Beyond a doubt, Riddick has proven himself worthy to lead the Necromonger Empire, even without the added power granted by purification or transcendence. Siberius just wishes he knew what that meant for their prophesies of Underverse, and whether they will have earned their place amongst the Holy Dead.

ㅤㅤㅤSlanting his gaze back to the Lord Marshal, his lets his gaze trail over the Furyan, thoughtful, "...my patience wanes for these theatrics, but it is your choice. You may have to make an example of a few Nobility, if the Necromonger Elite are to take you seriously."

[immortalmuses]

@unwaivering sent: “I love it when you take charge.” (Riddick for Vaako)

ㅤㅤㅤ"That--" Vaako grits out, his reply so sharp it nearly becomes a snarl, "--is a bold-faced Lie." Typically, the Necromonger's composure is ironclad, even in the face of Riddick's more vexing flirtations. But right now?... He's currently incandescent with Rage.

ㅤㅤㅤ(Whether that Rage is directed at the intruders attempting to kill his Lord Marshal, or at Riddick himself… that remains to be seen.)

ㅤㅤㅤCrouched behind a heap of rubble, in the shadow of a crumbling structure that was once this planet's political forum, Siberius works with savage efficiency. He presses a self sealing steri-patch over the bleeding wound grooved across Riddick's bicep, fingers clamping down hard to stem any blood loss. The phaser blast somehow nicked a major artery in the Furyan's arm, and since Riddick still hasn't accepted purification, it's a wound that might actually prove fatal.

ㅤㅤㅤ(Not that Vaako would allow such an ignorable promotion to full-dead for his Mate. They will go together, stepping beyond the Underverse's Threshold in their Due Time, and not a moment sooner.)

ㅤㅤㅤ"You hate when I'm in charge," The Necromonger reminds Riddick, releasing his arm once he's satisfied that no more of the Furyan's life blood will be escaping his body, "-- you don't even let me control the method of our sparring, regardless of whether it's within or without our bedchamber."

ㅤㅤㅤNot that Siberius is complaining… he's just making a point.

ㅤㅤㅤMore incoming phaser fire bounces off the rubble around them, and Vaako's pale features grow more angular by the ferocity in his expression. He shoots Riddick a look, "…These combatants are not native to this planet. Who are they, and why are they trying so hard to kill you?"

[immortalmuses]

@defyant sent: "If you're so unsatisfied with your dame, then why stick around her?" Riddick was curious. Another night and Vaako came into his chambers. What just to talk? He didn't seem like the type to just want to hang around. Riddick had gotten sick of the complaining from the command so he targeted a small poverty stricken world to help them. He figured why let them starve when they could be comfortable among their ranks and it seemed to please the overall people.

Vaako is becoming somewhat accustomed to Riddick's unprompted (and often far too perceptive) questions, both about the inner workings of the Necromonger race as well as... his personal life. The Commander sighs, shifting in his seat to stretch long, booted legs out before him.

I'm sure I do not know what you mean--" except that Siberius damn well does. Evenso, he levels an unreadable look in Riddick's direction, mentally calculating how much of himself he is willing to reveal to the Furyan. "It is not in a Necromonger's nature to be satisfied, My Lord. Our entire purpose is to seek the annihilation of all living things in the universe, and only upon arrival at the Underverse will we know true satisfaction."

Which is alot of words just for Vaako to deflect from answering Riddick's actual question. One he is begun asking himself as well: Why am I here, when I could be in my Dame's treacherous embrace? Is it because the Second Among Commanders feels as though he has finally found a place of acceptance within the Necromonger hierarchy? Because Riddick, for all his lone wolf bravado, does actually seem to listen to Siberius's counsel, in ways the old Lord Marshal never did?

( Or is it more than that... a deeper truth Vaako isn't sure he's willing to face... )

Discomfited by the thought, Siberius hesitates... then quietly admits, " Wulia and I... we serve a purpose to one another, a mutually agreed advantage. Or we did, once.."

[immortalmuses]

@fatefaulted​ sent: An unconventional moment of neediness. The Dame would drape her arms over his shoulders in his seated state. No reasoning. No whispers of conspiring antics. Just to savor him. To let her chin rest atop his head. To breath deep the scent of him and let go of a sigh that could actually be considered within the realm of contentment. Even she could appreciate the warm qualities within their cold existence. (( i love and stan the hot murder bbs ok!! ))

          Nadira moves with the stealth of an assassin, silent in a way Vaako could never hope to be with his heavy armor and military step. So he isn’t expecting the slim glide of her arms across his shoulders, or the brush of her breath at his temple as she leans over him from behind. For a moment, the Commander goes deadly-still and alert, his muscles coiled to attack. But then the spicy sweetness of his Dame’s scent reaches Siberius’s nose, and he inhales deeply, relaxing back into his seat. 

        “...wife.” Vaako rumbles, a greeting in itself. He tilts his head to one side, just enough to catch sight of her face in his peripheral vision. The Necromonger lifts a hand to grasp Nadira’s wrist where it rests against his collar, fingers curling around the joint with surprising gentleness. He turns the fragile bones of her wrist, nudging his nose against the Dame’s pulse point and breathing in the smell of her. “....to what do I owe the pleasure?”

[immortalmuses]

@fatefaulted​ sent: “ okay, so you’re a monster. so am i. lets be monsters together. ” ( dame vaako for siberius x3 )

          Vaako’s arm braces against the transparent steel that provides an exterior view from he and his Dame’s chambers. The hull of the Basilica is turned planetside, a lingering offensive position from the recent invasion, and so Siberius has an uninterrupted view of the smoking remains on the planet’s surface. 

          “....there’s no such thing as monsters..” The commander replies, his voice monotone in the way it gets when he’s reciting Necroism Doctrine. “...there is only those made powerful through Purification, and those who oppose the natural order of the ‘Verse.” 

          It’s something Vaako has said many times in his tenure as a Necromonger. And yet... he can feel the way the words stick in his throat, catching on the memory of children's’ bodies burning in the streets. Convert or Die. It is the choice, it has always been the choice....

               And yet. 

          Looking away from the view of the planet, Siberius meets Nadira’s gaze. His Dame is always so certain about their path towards the Threshold. He envies her that. “... It’s not my nature to question.” 

[immortalmuses]

A starter for @fatefaulted​‘s Dame Vaako mmhmmm

          “I know what you’re doing, Nadira...” Siberius angles his head in the Dame’s direction, a gesture so subtle that the rest of the Necromonger Elite milling around in the Lord Marshall’s receiving chamber would never notice. Vaako keeps his voice low, the quiet rumbling of his tone suggesting censure, but there’s a tell-tale twitching at the corner of his mouth. “...I’m not one of your pawns at court. I won’t be manipulated so easily...”