#{muse:ancient}

[twotonedechoes]

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

[twotonedechoes]

chysgoda​:

chysgoda​:

@twotonedechoes continued from here

“Was it more than just sound?” Bel’s expression was thoughtful. “Dragon Song only has actual sound some of the time. Any time I’ve tried to sing with it, along with sharing my aether, I tear up my voice and I can’t speak for a few days.”

Belatedly Bel realized that may have not been the wisest thing to share. At least the song was not really a secret, she just should not have shared she could feel it, be compelled to it. She cleared her throat and looked at the tower. “Do you know if someone left a theremin in the tower?”

“Mortal throats were not meant to try and replicate their foul tongue,” he spat, indicating clear distaste for the dragons and their nasty ‘songs’ that polluted the air with unwanted and unwelcome noise. Invaders and pests.  But he would let it lie there for now, turning to her question instead. “It is possible. Tho the tower was most certainly not a locale designed for leisure, there were performances held there on occasion. That would be if the rampant beasties and meddlesome fragments haven’t broken whatever might remain into so much scrap.” He paused, and against his better judgement added, “If you were truly interested I...might be moved to replicate one, wasteful tho it would be in the hands of such an imperfect being.”

[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]

"Oh, pity pity. Poor thing. If I can tolerate this abhorrently mundane brown of yours, you can surely mire your way through a touch of class. Besides. You may as well get used to it. This body will not age gracefully. That I can personally well assure you of."

     ❝ Wait–why is part of my hair white? I’m not old enough to be whitening this much this quickly! ❞

[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!”