#{muse:ancient}

[twotonedechoes]

“I could have happily gone 10 thousand more years without ever hearing the words ‘Daddy Zodiark’, and yet.. And yet.”

[twotonedechoes]

"So you were a king?" Hythlo mused as he sipped his tea, blinking in awe at Hades tale of his many past lives. "Wait. I'm sorry. Lets go back to the part of you siring whole families. You?! Hah!"

"I have been many kings," he huffed, nose in the air. It was not to remain.

"And why is that so hard to believe?"

[twotonedechoes]

Whatever would you do if someone hurt the purple haired chatter box of yours Emet-Selch

"Remove every trace of them from existence," he said without hesitation.

[twotonedechoes]

What a way to say hello. So what if the poor man had thought him dead and gone? There were more important matters to attend to. Such as: just what did this blasted bird think it was up to, stealing his gig? 

Emet-Selch knelt, squinting at the shoebill without so much as a how-do-you-fare to Morganaux himself. 

“I cannot decide if you are the wisest bird of your sort, or simple the one possessed of the most dumb luck.”

[twotonedechoes]

“Honestly,” the Ascian huffed, looking most cross. “How do you stomach all this walking? Trekking about like some sort of pack animal... it’s so tiring.”

[twotonedechoes]

"Ah,” the Ascian said, as if in afterthought upon finding a quiet moment between the messy business of slaying Lightwardens and saving the world and all the rest of that dull work, “I have yet to thank you. I understand you rid the star of a goodly number of those infernal, invasive lizards. Good work, that. Troublesome things they are. Scurrying around uninvited and nesting in places they’ve no business being. No. No business at all.” 

[twotonedechoes]

The ripple in the aether drew his attention. Of course it did. How could it not? Amid the endless muted sea of the sundered world flared a beacon, undiluted, pure, and utterly foreign, alien. The soul burned like a second sun, sending an aching pang through Emet-Selch’s Ancient heart, a yearning for the days when all creation burned so brightly. 

But this soul he did not know, and that was enough to dampen any hopes that may have sprung unwanted at first sight of the pure brightness. 

He wasted no time in preamble, stepping instead from the shadows without any additional fanfare. 

“I know not what brings you to this star, traveler, but you’ll find little for you here. This is but a world in decay. I would advise you to move on. Somewhere the colors have not lost their shimmer.” 

[twotonedechoes]

Continued from 

His work was finally, finally finished. All the loose ends, always dangling so irritatingly incomplete, had been trimmed and singed, burned away by the chaotic meeting of Light and Shadow, melted away to trouble him no more. To trouble her no more. 

His final performance had been upon a grand stage indeed. Truly, he had outdone himself with the Crystal Tower. No show in history had played out so gloriously as that final confrontation upon its heights. Not hero versus villain, no. Hero against hero. Each fighting to save that which they held dearest. Each fighting to complete their sacred duty. Each fighting until the last breath for what was lost. 

And oh, at that last possible moment, when the silence had fallen, and the end seemed set, only then had he made his appearance, the last of his already strained strength, his last breath, his dying gasp, a hand reaching into the abyss of the rift to pull her back once more from beyond. A lone figure against the Light, a single snap to break the silence. 

A final betrayal. 

The pain etched upon Elidibus’ face when he had turned away gored at his soul even now. But a well-told tragedy had that power. 

And now there was rest. Nothing but rest, quiet, eternal solitude as he drifted into the Lifestream, his ancient, ageless self beginning to break away and scatter. He had ever lived with half a step placed into the world of the dead, and now, after far, far too long, the Underworld had finally claimed Hades himself. 

He only wished it would come sooner. It was the loneliness that was the worst of it. Then, through the eternal waves of the endless potential of nothingness, he felt it. A sharp, unnatural tug at his soul. A hook set and sunk and now relentlessly pulling him up, up through the dark waters. A Calling. 

The Light that seared him still flared to blazing ice, and he gasped in sudden, silent pain as the scattered pieces of him were forced back together, knit in tidy, tight stitches by a needle of ice and threads of flame, and before he could stop to take a breath, he was breaking the surface, emerging from the Lifestream into the harsh and unrelenting world of the living once more. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, an echo of amusement thrummed. Oh, how the tables had turned. The blind feline would surely find this amusing. 

Having long since given up on life, his limbs lacked the strength to hold him, and bonelessly he fell. It was with a certain lack of concern, however. He was not surprised to find she had caught him. Crumpled like a babe on her lap, her frantic attempts to heal the glaring holes she’d left in his being brought a smile to his lips. She looked so very panicked. 

Her sharp retort to his words served only to broaden his grin, but it was with sincerity he lifted his hand, stilling her own as she worked at the wound of him. “Don’t. Don’t seal it. The Light burns out the Dark. It cancels out the Voice of-- Oh, surely I need not explain basic elemental theory to you?” 

[twotonedechoes]

Snug as he was in the lower branches of a sturdy and robust tree, it took Emet-Selch a moment to notice the small, fluffy invader. A rotund gaelicat, dressed in what appeared to be snow wear, had invited itself to nestle against him, perhaps seeking warmth. 

Giving a sleepy blink at the creature, he said, “Shoo. Back to your mistress, before she comes to search you out.” 

[twotonedechoes]

@bloodiedwallsandrosiedwindows

"Dearest Emet-Selch, just how long is it that you intend to nap for? There is work to be done. Honestly dear, if I didn't know better, I'd say you prefered sleeping to actual interaction." Nina sighed, a gentle shrug rolling from her as she stepped to one side as he so asked. "You really must get your sleeping habits back under control." @bloodiedwallsandrosiedwindows

"And so should I dearly love to return them to my control... That is, if endless pests and petitioners did not see fit to rouse me from beauteous sleep each and every time I dare close my eyes."

His tone was clipped, annoyed, and sped to a rising crescendo as he went on. Theatrical, as ever, even when petulant and pouting. "Honestly, tis as if none of you are acquainted with the notion of gratitude. After all I've done to forward the cause. Tsk tsk."

[twotonedechoes]

chysgoda from here

Bel took a long breath in and released it slowly. She was letting the Ascian get under her skin, and her foster mom had been asked her to play nice. Or at least play nice until they had a better idea of what the ancient wanted. Well, she might as well make the etiquette lessons Grandpa Fortemps had forced her into useful. "My apologies, I should not have yelled at you."

Harumph. “To say the very least,” he grumbled. 

“I’ll not be lectured by a child. Least of all one that can scarce begin to comprehend the enormity of just how deeply flawed she truly is.”

[twotonedechoes]

How many positions do you think you’ve tried? for Emet, Have you ever had an inappropriate crush? for Makara (or both for both)

“Far more than your fragile little mortal mind can even begin to fathom.”

“No.” She was most certainly not thinking about a certain troublesome immortal.

[twotonedechoes]

What’s the first thing that sexually attracts you to someone?

What’s your dirtiest sexual fantasy?

@ Emet

“How crass. I am not so easily swayed to the carnal as you mortals. I require a deep, spiritual connection. A humming echo of matched souls. An intimate knowledge that it is and ever has been meant to be that transcends such boundaries as appearance and mannerisms.” 

“...failing that, I do appreciate someone capable of coming somewhere close to matching wits with me.”

“As to fantasies... You could not comprehend it. My kind matches souls, devouring and becoming one another in an endless tangle of ecstasy that by far exceeds any pleasures that dalliances of the flesh could provide.”

[twotonedechoes]

“ what aren’t you telling me? ”

“If I told you what I’m not telling you, that would utterly defeat the purpose of not telling you, you utter buffoon!”

[twotonedechoes]

“Emet-Selch!”

He heard the voice call out, but it still yet took him a moment to process that the name it sounded was now his. No matter how he may yet feel unworthy of it. Unaccustomed still to crimson circling his vision through his mask, he turned, facing the smirking owner of the voice.

And there she sat, bare faced and brazen as the sun. The gentle wind tugged lightly on her wild mane of bright red hair, the braids and bells woven through it tinkling with a light and untamed music of their own. One booted foot tapping in the air, she perched on the edge of a high wall, grinning down at him.

“Kallitheia-Leone,” he greeted her with a tone of formality befitting his new office, and most unbefitting of the number of nights they had spent with only the other’s body for company. “You seem to have misplaced your mask. Again.”

The woman laughed, head tossed back to the wind, uncaring. “Mayhap I left it upon Hades’ bedside. Could you ask him to check for me, should you chance to see him about, most honored Emet-Selch?”

Utterly shameless, as always, Emet-Selch thought, tho not without fondness. Still his cheeks moved just a few shades closer in match to his mask as the woman leaped light as a pouncing cat from the wall, landing with nary a sound before him. Hardly surprising, really. While the once-feral goddess of the wilds may have acquiesced to civilization in name, he knew better than any that she would never truly allow her wandering soul to take root within the city.

No matter who offered her a place at their hearth and home.

“If I should see him,” he answered, forcing his composure back into place once more, “I will pass along the request.”

Kallitheia-Leone laughed again, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “Come now. Must we keep up this farce? Just when were you planning on telling me of your little promotion? As I recall,” she went on, her expression lightening a touch to fondness, “It was rather important to you.”

Emet-Selch’s gaze wandered to the side as a frown tugged at his lips. He had intended to tell her. Just… not quite yet. Once a bit more time had passed. Once the mantle no longer seemed to hang so heavy and falsely upon his shoulders.

“Well… yes. I was going to tell you, and personally, however, I had no small amount of business to tend to. Official undertakings to be seen to and the like. You understand of course.”

“I understand that the title that had you starry eyed and skipping sleep to attain is now one that you shy from, having been given it,” she countered, unwilling to allow his white lies to pass. “Hades, why do you not rejoice in the victory you so sought?”

He winced at her forwardness, as ever taken aback by her unwillingness to play to social niceties, and instead shoot straight for the heart of any matter. May as well come clean. She would only prod until he did. “I… was not their first choice.”

Saying it aloud, he did allow it sounded rather, well, childish, really. It was true that he had long yearned to attain the place of the Architect. There was little secret in it. He had in fact nigh worked himself to the bone for the honor. That then was likely the greatest source of the rawness he yet felt from the unfolding of the nomination. To have worked so hard, strove so greatly, been so certain… and then been proven only to be the second best choice…

Kallitheia smiled, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his arm. “Then they chose poorly, the first time around. Fret not, darling. Not even the Convocation can be right every time. There is none more suited to the office than you. No soul who cares so deeply, so fully for the fate of this star and her people.”

He knew they were no empty words she spoke, but rather those straight from her heart. And so he smiled, despite the still raw wound, and stood a bit straighter. “Thank you, my bristling wildling, for your ever present vote of confidence. And yet… if I may so inquire, how did you come by the knowledge? I was not aware any outside the Convocation yet knew of the appointment.” Aside, of course, from the man who had been the first choice…

Kallitheia laughed, catching his drifting thoughts before they found their target. “Look not with such suspicion in our dear friend’s direction. He did not divulge the secret. When I heard the doddering old fools had made their choice, I resolved to corner one of them, and have the truth from their lips.” She sighed, shaking her head in faux mourning. “Poor, dear Halmarut was resolved to keep his secrets, but when I pondered setting my next hunt within his dear forest, he quickly found his tongue.”

Emet-Selch winced once more, this time for his colleague's sake, before doubling back, her words truly sinking in. “So then… you knew they had chosen Hythlodaeus.”

She nodded, smiling again as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Yes. I knew of their mistake. And make not one of your own: had they not rectified it themselves, I would have stormed their very hallowed halls myself and roared and screeched until they had reconsidered.”

“Somehow,” he said with a sigh equal parts amused and exasperated, “I doubt that would have left them with the best impression.”

“Bah!” She laughed. “As if I care what a bunch of moldering old babblers think of me. Unlike some of us, I couldn’t care in the least what they have to say.”

Frowning slightly, he chided, “You should not so disrespect the Convocation. They are our greatest minds. Our leaders.”

Kallitheia-Leone shook her head. “Your leaders, my darling. Their rules and decrees sway me not.”

Emet-Selch’s frown deepened, but he well knew he would not win this argument. It was one they had held many times before. “Could you not try and play nice, hmmmm? You’ve a brilliant mind, on the rare occasions you so choose to put it to work, and patently unmatched strength. Were you so inclined, why, I’d imagine there may even yet be space for you within the Convocation.”

He had meant it in earnest, and yet she laughed as if he had jested. “Me, part of their little circle of hot air? I’ll thank you not to curse me so. I’ve no interest in so ‘ascending’.”

“Well do I know it,” he muttered, “And more’s the pity. Such a waste of your talents, not to put them to use for the greater good.”

Now it was her turn to sigh, shaking her head so the braided bells jingled softly. “My dear Hades, when will you learn? There are many ways to fight for the greater good. Not all of them to be found in stuffy debate chambers.”

“So you say, b-”

“So I know,” she interrupted, cutting him off with a finger pressed to his lips. “But enough of that for now. This is not the time to be arguing, it is the time to be celebrating! Come along, my dearest, most honorable Emet-Selch, and I will show you just how highly I revere you. In more… private quarters.”

[twotonedechoes]

Good day, Emet-Selch. May I ask why you left Mitron alone to go mad? Have you no sadness for a former colleague, even in a lesser form?

“Mitron? I would never let one of my dear comrades come to harm, had I the power to intervene. Mitron was a friend and respected colleague both.”

“That hollow shell however--a broken fragment, raised to a position they were unworthy of, to serve as pawn and placeholder--I wouldn’t waste the effort. And besides, they made such a lovely monster, don’t you think? After all, something had to bring about the flood. They should be grateful to have been of use, after the bungled mess they made of the plan.”