#zagreusx

[refugejerah]

who?: @zagreusx where?: hidden ones alcove (eterna) when?: troupe 3

Since his descent below ground to avoid the worst of the chaos, the voices have grown more impatient while his resolve grew stronger. "Come to me, come to me now before you become someone else's weapon…" one voice would say. "Return to the surface and feast amidst the turmoil…" the other would say. But Jerah was accustomed to his mind being a playground and the longer he suffered his intense hunger in the dark the stronger his resolve became. Ache and darkness was all he knew for days on end until the scent of another entering the alcove hit his senses. There was only one way forward, and the answer was here though it fell from his lips like pained plea: "Pack…" It was all Jerah needed and all he spoke as the other drew closer and the shadows that concealed him dissipated. His disappointment at this one not being Alrik was clear, but he'd been keeping his ravenous hunger at bay for a while now. Jerah was lucid enough to determine that a stranger being here was to benefit the Old Woman and not his appetite. "No one, for so long, then new one … the very first," he says, not moving from his corner but clutching his hand over the center of his chest. "Pack," he reiterates, learning still how to lead with his words. "What new one hunts?" he questions, holding out his hand palm up.

[choicevidarr]

who?: @zagreusx where?: the vip tent/lounge, where the fancy people are when?: progress day, idk which day pick one hehe

Progress Day, what a joke. Lukene was doing his nomadic work in Iskaldrik half a century ago when the tradition first started, so this would be his first time witnessing the revelry. To celebrate how far Lysaran innovations had come while there were people still struggling to get by sent fury rushing through his veins, fury he used to inspire his own celebratory endeavors. With a bag of his forcefully stolen loot and the memory of noble bones breaking beneath his hands, Vidarr had about all the fun he needed, or so he thought… The distinct smell of opulence and wine had him turning a corner into a place he very clearly didn't belong. The dirty, torn cloak contrasted the lavish adornments of those who laughed and drank here. Highborns and their luxuries; some things never changed, but his nose wasn't leading him blindly into a party he had no invite to attend. "It's you, the strange one," he acknowledges as he pulls back his hood. Zagreus is the only one he looks at, the rest he very clearly regards as no more than ants. "Keep better company. These people are beneath you." Was it his place? Most would say no, but Vidarr intervened where he pleased, so yes. As if to solidify how lowly he regarded those enjoying the soiree Zagreus hosted, he yanked a golden goblet of wine right out of ones hand and drank it all in one go before reaching to add it to his loot bag, never breaking eye contact with the other genasi.