#Fallesto

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Eskel made short work of the cultists he fought, as did Sabrina when she entered the fray, the two of them fighting together as a team with their differing array of skills and abilities. A long way from how they had started out, more suspicious and ready to fight one another than those who opposed them. He couldn't say he had ever expected to be able to trust her as much as he was coming to, but he supposed the Path and destiny were full of wonders... he should have been used to that by now. Even so, it felt surreal, even for a Witcher. Now and again they helped one another out, him firing a Sign or crossbow bolt at one of her opponents, and her blasting his with her powerful magic. Together they cut through the ranks of the enemy like a hot knife through butter, leaving corpses of various states around them in the streets, rain and fog. When the last of them had fallen, the angered Sabrina drew his attention back to her, standing over the only survivor of the group they had taken down. Not only from her words, but her voice told him how close she was to blasting the cultist's head to a pulp. While the zealot no doubt deserved it, necessity had to take priority over instinct. Still, he was silently gratified by her protectiveness of him, when she couldn't hide it. He went over at once, settling a hand on her shoulder and gripping it bracingly, reassuringly as he spoke.

"I'll handle it, red. You just take a breather and watch my back as I do. I can sense others moving out there in the fog. Liable to be cultist reinforcements among them."

The Witcher's deep, calm voice assured her, rubbing her bare back some more, offering comfort, before turning his attention to the survivor. Going to him, he cast an Axii Sign upon the cultist, making it powerful, and attempting to sift through his mind and memories as it took telepathic effect. There was interference, like before with the Captain, but far less of it... this man was younger, likely had consumed less of the Leviathan's flesh and had less exposure to the books and artifacts of the Great Old Ones. Lower in rank among the cult, but high enough to have what he needed, and less discipline to keep it from him. It seemed some in the island were less corrupted... a few not corrupted yet at all, but held there by fear. He was hardly surprised by that. With further effort, he was able to discern some useful knowledge, before breaking the connection and casting a Somne Sign upon him, putting him to sleep in an instant. A location, at last... the cult would be ready for them... so the pair would have to be ready for them as well. Rising again, his viper eyes turned out to the fog beyond, senses alert for any possible reinforcements, and then to the crimson haired Sorceress, moving up to her side again. Filling her in on the details he had collected... the pertinent ones, at least, for where they needed to head to next.

"From what I have gathered, there is an ancient keep and connected lighthouse occupied by the cult further past this town, on the opposite side of the island. It contains a secret entrance that will take us deeper beneath, and to the lost city itself. Doubtless more hurtles await us... but at least we have something to work with, here. We should fetch Scorpion and head out there, at once. Couldn't get many more details, but I think we can expect more traps and ambushes between here and there."

@fallesto

Sabrina watched him move with the grace of a dancer, a silent ballet of steel and shadow. She knew she had to act soon, but she also knew the value of timing. The guards were focused on Eskel, their eyes wild with religious fervor, not noticing the crimson haired woman who had followed him. She took a deep breath, her hand glowing with the power of magic. As one of the guards managed to get past Eskel's defense and lunged towards him, she acted swiftly. A jet of flame shot out from her hand, striking the cultist and sending him flying back into the others, knocking them off balance. The screams of pain and fear from the burning man filled the air, but she didn't let it distract her. Instead, she used the chaos to her advantage, moving quickly and casting spells that threw the guards into the air or slammed them into the ground. Her movements were swift and precise, each spell delivered with deadly intent, yet she made sure to keep them alive for questioning. She would not kill them, but they would not be doing anything to cause harm to them, or anyone, ever again, they would not be doing much of anything at all for some time.

She watched him, his own battle becoming a synchronized dance of death with the crimson haired sorceress. She couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in him, she had come a long way from the spoiled and stubborn witch he had once met. She had grown into a powerful ally and a formidable fighter. The clang of steel and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air as they fought side by side. The guards were no match for them, their numbers dwindling as they were dispatched with brutal efficiency. Yet, the witch remained cautious, her instincts telling her that there was more to come. As she dealt with anyone that was stupid enough to get close to them, as she had the orange glowing barrier around herself and him as well, for good measure.

“Just need one who …” As she narrowed her hazel eyes. “Looks like a leader.”

Sabrina felt the heat of the flames she conjured, the power of her magical spell thrumming through her veins like liquid fire. She watched as the guards stumbled and fell, their eyes wide with fear and pain. Yet, she felt no pity for them. They had chosen to serve monsters, to bring about the end of the world as they knew it. They were the enemy, and she was more than willing to do what needed to be done to stop them. As the last of the guards were incapacitated, she stepped forward, her voice cold and commanding. “This one.” As she nudged one that was alive, to some certain level, and not burned to a crisp or bleeding out with a missing arm or leg, as she tapped the man on the ground with her foot.

“You better question him, if I do it, I’ll scramble his mind afterwards, I am that pissed!”

[timidblues]

The sight of his new body was repulsive to Regulus.

He looked at his tiny hands and the sticky webbed feet with utter disgust. He had always felt like a king in his human form, but now, as a frog, he was nothing but a creature looked down upon. The very thought of being so insignificant was unbearable to him. He had been so powerful, so feared, and now he was nothing but a mere bug to be stepped on or eaten by larger creatures. His pride could not accept this, and so he hated himself for it. He hated the frog he had become, and the world that had brought him to this state.

Regulus's once grand and powerful voice was now a mere croak. He tried to assert his dominance, but all that came out was a pitiful sound that only served to annoy the insects around him.

His once-sharp mind was now clouded by the instincts of a creature that knew only hunger and survival. He was forced to live in the murky waters of the swamp, the very place he had once held in such contempt. The irony of his situation was not lost on him. It was as if the universe had decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, and he hated it with every fiber of his being. The very idea that he, the Sin Archbishop of Greed, could be reduced to this was a slap in the face to his pride.

As he sat in the pond, his thoughts grew darker. The foul water and the stench of decay filled his nostrils, a stark contrast to the opulent scents that used to surround him. He watched as the other frogs went about their lives, content with their simple existence. The sight only fueled his anger and resentment. They had no idea of the greatness they were living in the shadow of. He had ruled over men and women, had them bow before him, and now he was one of them. He was a mere creature of the pond, living off the scraps that fell from the very world he had once dominated.

Today was a boring day like usual for the blonde. Routine was starting to get a little old, and she needed something new. Thanks to mother nature― or whatever other being that existed― the weather was really nice today, the sky being almost completely clear except from a few clouds here and there. It's almost like the sun was beckoning her to come outside and so, with a little sigh, she pulled herself out of her sofa, deciding to go for a little walk. It couldn't hurt anyways, right? So, after convincing herself that it was a good idea, she finally stepped outside and thought of where to head to. A walk through the park would be nice, she thought, walking towards the streets of the town as she began to observe her surroundings. After a while, she finally arrived at the park, and decided to stop to look at the pond. She wanted to look for any fishes, but instead was blessed with the sight of some frogs sitting on lily pads! The blonde cooed at the sight, resting her elbows on the edge of the gate seperating her from the pond and watched, letting out a little sigh.

* How cute...

[swordduels]

❛ i'm still in love with you … and i honestly never stopped. ❜

Circe eyed them with her brown eyes while combing through her black curls with gentle care. A quiet sigh made her bare chest heave slightly where she sat partly covered by purple covers. One leg dangled freely over the floor. Her other leg bent down to have a meeting between thigh and fibula. A pile of decorative pearls lay in front of Circe. "Is that so?" After a few brushing strokes she placed the brush and pearls onto her nightstand. "And you couldn't wait until tomorrow?" @fallesto

[mooonveiled]

❛  i'm tired of pretending everything's okay when it's clearly not.  ❜ (lil bro)

His lips pressed into a thin line as Michikatsu clenched his fist in irritation. “Don’t.” Michikatsu started, “don’t YOU dare lecture me about righteousness, brother.” He spat. Michikatsu hated it. He hated how his younger brother excelled in combat, how he had become a peerless warrior of unmatched strength. Even more so when their fellow hashira would naturally gravitate towards Yoriichi and his abilities.

He hated it all.

He had his back turned to Yoriichi as he refused to look at him in the eyes and listen to him grovel about their broken relationship. “This is all your fault.” Michikatsu stated flatly, referring to their broken relationship. If it wasn’t because of you, I would’ve become the strongest warrior ever. He thought.

“You knew what it meant to me to become the strongest samurai in existence but you had to come along and ruin everything.”

[beforecreation]

"You killed your family?" (Regulus)

Harvester

He supposed that would be a question he had to answer at some point, even if that particular event hadn't been question in quite some time. It was so long now that the indication as to the fate of his family must've slipped out his mouth without him even realizing. He hadn't thought he'd talk about this today, much less with a complete stranger.

But instead of changing the subject, he gives a simple nod instead.

"...That I did."

How long did he put off his decision? Rationalize that the rapidly declining quality of his planet was excusable? That the society had degraded without his constant vigilance, and his attempts to personally keep the people of his planet in line had only been a temporary fix at best? It must've been decades, at least. He wanted them to grow old, too old to realize what was going on. Too old to be held accountable for their actions.

Old enough so that they could claim to have had a full life.

Sparing them would've been the least that could've been done. But they were stubborn. The planet was already dying, but it was their home, and they refused to flee. Stubborn fools until the end.

Whatever time he spared them, there was always a feeling as though it wasn't enough. But he buried that feeling. Their deaths were necessary, no one could be spared the fate of destruction. All living things had an end. Whether it be by his hand, or another's, he had to believe it didn't matter.

"I am a destroyer, after all. Even they weren't afforded special treatment."

[icybreaths]

In the depths of the mystical forest, where the murmurs of the trees intertwined with the gentle caress of the breeze, a being of extraordinary elegance stepped forth from the twilight. Her fur shimmered like freshly fallen snow under the moon's embrace, radiating a soft, silvery luminescence that illuminated the verdant carpet beneath her. Her mane glowed with an otherworldly light, each strand resembling delicate threads woven from the very essence of moonbeams. Above her, the leafy canopy arched like a grand cathedral, sunlight filtering through in a whimsical ballet, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon her form.

Once, she had been a powerful witch, wise and revered, moving with a grace that echoed her lost humanity. Her eyes, now reflecting the depth of a nocturnal creature, carried a quiet sorrow, a poignant reminder of the life she had once known. They sparkled with ancient knowledge, hinting at the stories of countless nights and the whispered mysteries hidden within the forest's embrace.

Her hooves danced through the muck and mire of the earth, each step resonating with the pulse of the land. The woodland creatures sensed her arrival, for she was a guardian, a quiet watcher who safeguarded the realm with an unwavering gaze. They could feel her strength, even if they couldn’t perceive the delicate spells she spun to protect the innocent and lead wandering souls back to the familiar trails.

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, the forest fell into a hushed stillness, as if it were pausing to catch its breath. The air was rich with the aroma of pine and the allure of a night brimming with murmurs and mysteries. The transformation had exacted a toll on her, yet it had also bestowed upon her a deep bond with the spirits of the land. They communicated with her through the whispering leaves and the far-off call of an owl, steering her through the maze of ancient trees. Her mission was clear, though the journey was laden with danger. She sought the hero foretold by fate, a companion of great significance to join her in this endeavor. Until that moment arrived, she remained tethered to the forest, a quiet guardian of enchantment and wonder in a world that had long forgotten her essence.

|| Asks || @fallesto ||

The forest’s breath came with a chill the deeper one wandered. Like the leaves, it started as a whisper, nearly indiscernible from the wild nightlife.

Further ahead was a hum, low and sinister. Had survival instincts not kicked in, there might have been more bodies.

Few birds scatter the forest floor, a huddle of rabbits, a fox… schools of fish frozen still in the river.

Snow was brought in by a gale of numbing winds. The trees shivered under the hiss in the air.

An iced over wolf stood frozen mid step, head down and peering into the fogged brush. Cautious.

Blood painted the snow on the other side in a disastrous slop. From the ground to being frozen mid drip from the tree leaves above; it was everywhere.

It should have smelled worse but it was tempered by the cold.

Parts of a dark claw, a chewed open leg, and greasy black hair scattered the scene. Teeth— part of bony mask… crimson streaks that led to the dead hollow body, and the woman perched atop it.

She looked on, tonguing meat out of the dips in her talons. The approaching creature was a laughable juxtaposition to the horror here, but Jewel merely stared and studied it.

“What do you want?” she graveled out of her mangled mouth. “I’m busy.”

[tsukuharuko]

This was a violation against his rights!

He who has served without failure, who has gone above and beyond, who has done everything that one could do, who has worked for so long to make the world as it was, he who shines the brightest, the strongest of the strong, a frog! This was a violation, that witch, she had no right to take one look at him, dismiss him, mock him, think that he was not good enough at all, and he had lashed out, killed her, he was sure he had shredded her to pieces, but she came back, mocked him more and then cursed him.

A frog in the mud then it was.

This would not be the end of him, this would not be how it ends, he will live, always, he always comes back, he always finds a way to overcome everything that is thrown at him and this will be no different than all the times before, as he sat there for a moment and sighed, this pond, he hated it, he hated this lilypad, he hated everything that there was here, he had no powers, none he was trapped and so he was going to have to try and escape, get out of this pond, this garden and try and find, someone, anyone at all that can help him!

"Oh. A frog."

Haruko blinked as she stared down at the grass by the sidewalk; the little animal could easily be overlooked, and anyone could have stepped on it. She bent to pick it in a hand -- frogs weren't scary to her, she had hunted many after rainy days along with her childhood friends, back in the countryside -- and lifted it to her eye level.

"You should be careful, you know?" She said, almost with a scolding note. "What if you got squashed?"

She stood up and glanced around. It was odd to find a frog in the middle of the city. Maybe there was a park nearby? Then this little thing had to get back to his house pond.

"Let's find your home," she decided, crossing the road and following the alley nearby with hesitant steps. "You shouldn't be so far from the water. It's dangerous if you get too dry!"

[whirling-fangs]

An opening!

Inosuke rushed into it, throwing himself whole into that miraculous chance he had earned with great effort. He didn't quite realize that the Sin had left the door ajar for him on purpose, but it didn't matter. The result was the same.

His fate was his to decide.

The poor man didn't remain awake for long. Horrified by what he had seen, perhaps begging for death to take him when he couldn't see it, he immediately passed out in the beast's grip. The tar-beast tossed his prey aside with frustration, its attention returning to its internal struggle.

It felt like trying to put on a glove with the wrong amount of fingers. Inosuke prodded at the void, trying to figure out the new contours of the body that used to be his. The tar-like substance bubbled on the surface, undulating and dripping down, trying to reshape itself to the will of its puppeteer.

"I will not... be consumed!"

His answer resonated loud and clear within the shared mind, for all to hear. He had to act and act quick, to make the entity cooperate before the humans returned in a flock. He could feel the infinite power brimming within him, an untapped, endless source of energy, waiting for him to harness it.

The first few arrows rained down upon him, forcing the tar-beast to morph out of the way. It moved like an entity made of fluid, unable to decide on its own shape, conflicted between the two wills that fought for its control.

He was running out of time. The humans were swarming him from all sides, weapons and magic brandished, ready to take advantage of his unstable form-

"WAIT!"

The voice was vaguely familiar to the beast, and entirely familiar to the men who slightly lowered their weapons. Their boss had risen from his slumber, arms outstretched, his hulking figure standing protectively. His eyes burnt with a passionate fire.

"Don't... don't kill him! I've seen it... I've seen the future! The future that awaits us if we submit to him!"

The creature's grip on Inosuke tightened, but the latter felt something else. A glimmer of hope, perhaps? Or was it just the illusion of choice that the Sin had presented him?

“Magic .. blessings .. spirts .. cannot .. overcome this power.”

Regulus breathed out, feeling the warmth of the human flesh beneath his clawed hand. This host was different. Stronger, more resilient. He had never encountered such a spirit before, one that refused to be consumed entirely by his insatiable hunger. He could see the flames of rebellion in Inosuke's eyes, a spark that had not been present in his predecessors.

“You're a fighter .. well trained .. your already .. different .. from the others.”

The creature took a step back, watching the human struggle to stand. The black tar that made up its body rippled, giving it the appearance of a living shadow. 

It had allowed Inosuke a semblance of control, a tiny glimpse of the world outside of the greed that now consumed him. It was a risk, but one that intrigued the Sin.

“You will die .. if we .. are separated now .. your soul .. your life .. I will consume it .. if you try and separate us ..”

The creature that was Regulus cocked its head to the side, the whispers of the witch and the man still echoing in its mind. It studied Inosuke with a mix of curiosity and hunger. It had never felt such resistance from a host before.

“You are strong .. that is better .. than the last two.” It murmured, the voice a deep, rumbling purr that seemed to come from the very earth beneath them. “I can feel your spirit .. your will to live. It is... intriguing .. those .. you came with .. I can smell them .. they are coming back .. with more .. to kill you .. do what you must .. if you do not fight .. and die .. you die .. erased .. I take .. a new host.”

[slyphycho]

The curse was spreading. Regulus' eyes widened as he took in the sight of the teenager's unfurling tail. Another one caught in the witch's twisted web. He couldn't ignore the sudden kinship he felt towards this stranger. They shared a bond, one of pain and isolation. He had to say something. "Your... tail," Regulus began cautiously, his voice low and gruff from disuse. 

"It seems we are both cursed."

Regulus took a step back, his hand still resting on the rope. "I know what it's like to be... changed. To feel like you don't belong." He paused, his eyes searching the boy's face for any hint of understanding. 

"You're not alone in this."

He gripped the rope tightly as he pulled the bucket of water from the well. After placing it down, he filled two cups and took a drink before handing one to his companion. It was fortunate they had stumbled upon each other, as both were caught in a web of magic and deception. Their fates were intertwined, and unless they wanted to end up stranded in the middle of nowhere, they had to work together. 

He knew where he was headed; he had memorized the golden sands of this land. He needed to traverse it and locate the ancient city before time ran out. Time was becoming a constraint—what had started as weeks was now dwindling down to days, and he feared it might soon be just hours. If that happened, his journey would be over, and he’d end up as nothing more than a braying donkey. At least he would have the company of a cheeky little raccoon that had followed him, providing some amusement despite the seriousness of their situation.

Regulus sighed heavily, the weight of his curse pressing down on him. "It's a bad situation, but time is not our ally. The desert sun waits for no one." He glanced up at the sky, the sun a merciless orb of fire that seemed to mock their plight.

"We must find shelter for the night and then head on in morning."

Gary sneered. His teeth appearing sharper than the average human as his now racoon like ears lowered slightly. But then relaxed ever so slightly. He wasn't used to being..cared for. Nevertheless he took the cup of water and greedily drank it down as the wind slowly picked up.

"Thanks I guess.." He murmured as his tail flicked a few times." Names..Gary." He introduced akwardly towards the donkey man. His nod slow and awkward. Just like his mannerisms that spelled out his life wasn't necessarily kind to him even without the curse that was ravaging his body turning him into an animal.

Racoon was fitting for a troublemaker like him. Waking up one morning in your dorm to find you had a tail and ears you shouldn't have was a bit of a bigger problem than dealing with chores or farming. He ran and never looked back.

And when the donkey man offered him kindness. He was hesitent to even take the cup from him. Almost like he poisoned it or something. It was obvious he didn't but it was that unstable personality that made him strange around others as he looked at the water and back to the donkey.

"Can I have..more?"

[frozcnlight]

@fallesto asked: "I've heard good things about you." (Regulus)

The slightest, nervoush laughter escaped Miran, truly unsure what she should say to this. It wasn’t unusual for people to know her. She was a heiress after all - and her family well known especially within the high society. Though, it was mostly rather her father who was known, rather than her - for whenever there was a gathering, she would just silently follow him and behave just the way her family wanted her to. Silent and only speaking up whenever she was asked or spoken to.

“I’m really glad to hear that it were only good things. It would be truly troublesome, if somebody would spread bad rumors about my family or me.”, she finally spoke with the corner of her lips, painted in a soft shade of peach, curled upward into a smile. She rested her hands in front of her, back straightened - just as she had learned by many lessons during her childhood.

“However, sir. I must admit that I never heard about you, I guess. At least I do not recognize it from your looks. Can I have your name perhaps?”, running a hotel meant to meet many faces - and some would might slip her mind.

[lured-into-wonderland]

In the stillness of a dust-laden village, a lone figure strode purposefully along the banks of a murky river. Regulus Corneas, a young man marked by his quiet demeanor and unremarkable existence, had always felt an unspoken bond with the flowing water. It mirrored his own life—ever shifting yet unwavering in its course. He walked with a measured pace, his gaze fixed on the ground, searching for something elusive.

Then, it appeared before him. A small black box, cradled in the reeds and partially submerged, as if the river had chosen to present it to him. His heart raced as he reached for it, the cold metal sending a shiver coursing through him. It was heavier than he expected, a tangible weight that hinted at hidden secrets and ominous promises. The lock was corroded, but not beyond his capabilities. With a determined effort, he pried it open, revealing a deep crimson velvet lining.

The darkness inside the box seemed to throb with a sinister energy, reaching out to ensnare his thoughts. He found himself entranced, unable to tear his gaze away as the shadows thickened, swirling into a vortex of desire and power. His mind clouded, the seductive whispers grew louder, drowning out the soft sounds of the river. In that swirling void, he glimpsed his innermost yearnings, his hidden ambitions twisted into a grotesque yet captivating vision.

The darkness grew stronger, latching onto him like a parasitic vine, wrapping around his very soul. It sank into his heart, cold and heavy, weighing him down with a burden that felt eerily familiar. The world around him began to shift and distort, as if viewed through a lens of greed. The simple cottages of his village took on the grandeur of palaces, the faces of his fellow villagers morphed into masks of envy and despair, and the very earth beneath his feet transformed into a treasure trove of gold and jewels waiting to be claimed. His eyes glittered with a hunger that had never been there before, a hunger that grew by the second.

With a flick of his wrist, the first cottage crumbled into dust. The screams of its inhabitants were lost in the cacophony of his own laughter, a sound that echoed through the village like a peal of thunder. His power grew with every step, his movements sending ripples of destruction through the once-peaceful landscape. Trees withered, animals fled, and the river itself recoiled from his touch, the water turning a sickly green as it boiled away from his grasp. The very air was thick with greed, a palpable presence that suffocated the life from everything it touched.

He felt his body stretch and contort, the fabric of his being rewriting itself to match the greed in his heart. His eyes burned with an unnatural gold, his skin paled a perfect milk white, and he felt his body, perfecting itself, as if the air around him was wrapping him up t protect him from the world. He had become something more than human, something monstrous and terrible, and he reveled in the power that surged through him. With each pulse of his newfound strength, the village was torn apart, the buildings reduced to rubble and the people to nothing more than blood stains on the ground.

He moved forward, his eyes searching for the one person who had ever brought him warmth amidst the coldness of his existence. Nunnally, his fiancee, had to be here somewhere. Her gentle laughter and soft whispers had been his anchor, the one thing that had kept him tethered to the world of the living. He had to find her, to show her the power that was now his, to share in his newfound greatness. The village was a blur of destruction as he strode through it, the cobblestone streets cracking beneath his heavy boots. The screams of the villagers grew distant, their pain a mere afterthought to the symphony of greed that played in his mind.

It was a lovely day when it all started. The sun rays cascades down from the blue sky; making the world vibrant and full of life. The air was filled with the scent of the blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees (as well as her fair hair) causing the leaves to swing in some mesmerizing dance. The sun’s warmth was kissing the skin of people, installing in everyone and in everything some odd happiness.

People of the village were laughing, children were singing, birds were chirping, the day was filled with peace, and nothing had foreshadowed the disaster that was soon to come. Perhaps if they could have had a look into a heart of that one particular man, they would have noticed the darkness that was to cloud the-now-bright sky. Perhaps then they would be terrified and not full of love and hope.

Nunnally straightened herself turning her face towards the river. If she was to guess, Regulus would be found somewhere there. It was the river that was always calling him like his distance f u t u r e. She loved him. She admired him, but there was also some kind of uneasiness that he was sometimes bringing into her heart. Nunnally knew Regulus was made for a different life. This village, its simple life and people, who had just a little more than they needed to survive… No! She didn’t think it was something that Regulus could be happy with. She loved him, and she knew there was a different path that awaited him. But oftentimes, when she looked at him, at his dreaming eyes, when she was listening to his impatient words; when she was caressing his soft hair, she couldn’t dismiss the feeling that the greatness that was awaiting him would be also something that would ultimately tear them apart. As she wasn't made for the greatness. HE WAS.

Nunnally loved him. With every look of her blue eyes, with every smile of her rose lips, with every gesture of her small hands. She loved him and yet she feared she wouldn’t be e n o u g h for him. Cause she enjoyed what she had. Even if her dresses were simple, and she would never be a true lady with expensive dresses and jewelry. She would never sleep on the silk sheets, eat from the golden plates, and have maids to attend to her every wish. She sometimes wondered how life like that must have felt, but she too much loved the freedom, the wind, the sun, and…him: Regulus Corneas.

She kept looking towards the river for some time, and then laughed to her thoughts, which were showing her fiancé’s smiling face.

-- ( “He doesn’t smile often enough…” ) -- she had that worrying thought before shaking her head, letting her fair hair falling down her shoulders like some mystic cascade of gold and silver. Her light steps carried her inside the house.

Perhaps Reggie would enjoy a slice of a freshly baked bread?

But Nunnally didn’t even manage to start when it happened. A thunder. A lightening. Screams of pain and despair. The darkness that was consuming the-once-peaceful place.

“Regulus!” – she screamed as she run out of the house; her eyes once again turned towards the river, now clouded with fear and unspoken worry. It all seemed to be coming from the river… And he was there! She…she needed to go there. She needed to find him…! There was no life for her without him…

“Nunnally…!” – whoever was calling her couldn’t stop her. So, there she was: running, almost breaking through the crowd of the people she knew were trying to escape, getting as far from the river as they could. But she needed to get there.

“Regulus…!” – she cried as the tears were rolling down her cheeks; she needed…needed…needed… Finally, she was alone on the path that led to river. She didn’t see him. It was suddenly quiet. Almost no sounds around. How terryfying!

“Reggie…!” – her call broke the silence… .

..and then she saw him; so-known-silhouette walking the village path towards her. Nunnally raced towards him still not aware that he had changed – “Reggie…” – now her eyes were full but with tears of happiness… --

“We need to run…our path…the secret one in the woods…” – she was screaming hoping he’d hear her and start running himself. BUT HE DID NOT. Nunnally finally reached him, only to take a step back in a sudden fear. She was looking at Regulus, at her fiancé, she was sure of it! But it wasn’t him anymore. It wasn’t Regulus she knew. The golden eyes. That terrifying look in them. And that calmness and coldness. As if he didn’t see what was going on…or rather…

…enjoying it…!?

“Reggie…” – she whispered taking yet another step back. Then suddenly, she shook her head. It didn’t matter. It was Regulus; his true self was still somewhere inside him. It was the darkness that was now taking him. The greatness he was waiting for. But she’d save him. She quickly walked to him and took his arm.

“We need to run, Reggie…to the forest…we need to hide until…until it’s…all gone…”

“Regulus…!” – she screamed as he wasn’t reacting – “Regulus, it’s me…! Do d-do you recognize me…please…it’s me…Nunnally…your Nun…Nunnie” – the tears; the tears that were the sign of happiness just a moment ago, were pooling in her sad eyes now and soon were rolling down her cheeks like two unstoppable streams of sadness. And despair.

Something was telling her she should run away from him. But she couldn’t. Something made her stay.

“…Reggie…” – she whispered; her voice rasp; her hands reached towards him as if to caress his cheek…

“Reggie…! Stop…please stop…!”

“Stop!!!!” - she fell down on her knees.

“Stop!!!!”

@fallesto

[whirling-fangs]

It’s a simple enough question and yet

Who was the chef

She hesitates. The nerves are already showing through hard swallow and the wetting of lower lip, eyes shifting left then right as if searching for somebody else to take - over. Conversation has never been the strongest talent. Not even when he has time to prepare and while this approach might be seemingly innocent to anyone else, chef’s own paranoia as well as anxiety already has her expecting the worst rather than considering another option. Can’t stay silent forever though. She seems to accept that a beat later too because head suddenly nods. “I am. " Hands are quick to reach for a kitchen towel, wiping them of any excess food. She’d been preparing onions moments before and that’s the last thing anyone wants pressed against their palm. Once confident, or at least some semblance of it, she steps forward to introduce herself. "I am the chef and owner. Is, is everything alright? Was there a problem with your food? " It comes of so perfectly with how she walks, how she talks, how the trickle of sweet can be seen, but that was a well-crafted lie, nothing more than an image, of a chew struggling to constantly bring more people into the kitchen to work for her, and to keep the doors open to bring in more customers.

Kiba let none of his rampant rage show. His hair was tied up behind his head in an elegant ponytail, his pale skin empty of any blemish, his waiter's uniform fitting him like a glove. He weaved around the tables with a dancer's precision, carrying impressive piles of empty plates.

Fill up, fill up, filthy pigs, he grinned to himself, I'm only gonna have a bigger feast tonight!

It was all going a little too well, perhaps. He shouldn't have underestimated the humans' ability to be massive pains in the arse. His smile didn't fade as the angered customer, a plump little woman, pretended to have found a hair in her plate. A hair that she had most certainly plucked from her ugly wig, and planted in her dish. After Kiba waltzed into the kitchen and returned with the much demanded chef, he kept his hands wrapped around his empty platter, fingers drumming along its surface.

A little slip in his perfect composure.

"Look at this! There was a HAIR in my food!" The woman brandished her planted poison between two slimey finger. "This is UNACCEPTABLE! I demand a new plate, and I expect a gesture from you! Or I will have the entire world know how disgusting your little establishment is!"

Tap, tap, tap. Kiba pictured the woman's strangled corpsed skewered above a fire like a rotisserie pig. Yes... she'd make for a perfect appetizer once the doors closed, and the restaurant's real activity truly began.

This kitchen truly was a gate right into hell.

[estarion]

@fallesto said: would not trust you to run a bath let alone run a party

　　　＂. . . too bad, bitch.＂ also, if they think he's seriously running this thing, they're all playing themselves. hah.

[swordduels]

[BETRAYAL]: trying to keep the receiver calm before the big reveal, the sender cups their face gently to keep them steady, and then reveals that they're the villain.

Circe arched her back and spoke their name loudly. The wild locks spread out as she rested against the pillow while breathing heavily. She shivered and reached out with her hands to hold them closer. One of the fingers were decorated with a golden wedding ring.

It was wearing memories of the ceremony and their promises to each other. Both marital and political promises had been made with written contracts to keep the peace between their kingdoms. To fulfill their agreement she had agreed to consumate the marriage in front of witnesses.

While holding them in a warm embrace she tensed up before meeting their gaze. "What did you do?" Her lips trembled. "I smell blood and death." Circe's eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

@fallesto

[chronicparagon]

The mare wandered through the meadow, the dew-laden grass refreshing against her soft muzzle. The moon hung low, a silver crescent that echoed the mark on her forehead. She halted, her violet eyes scanning the horizon for the first light of dawn. Her mane and tail danced in the gentle breeze, shimmering with the ethereal glow of the moonlit night.

The forest loomed around her, towering guardians of shadow and enigma, murmuring secrets known only to the creatures of the night. An owl hooted, its haunting call resonating through the trees. The mare lifted her head, ears perked at the sound. Fear was a stranger to her; she had roamed these woods for ages beyond her reckoning.

Her hooves clicked against the crystal-studded earth as she made her way to the stream. The water was icy and clear, mirroring the stars above like scattered gems. As she leaned down to drink, the crystals sparkled, casting an otherworldly glow on her coat. It was a stark contrast to the gentle radiance that usually enveloped her, a reminder of the curse that had taken her true form.

Suddenly, a rustle in the underbrush drew her attention. Her head snapped up, ears swiveling to pinpoint the source of the noise. A young figure emerged, clearly not from this land, as she could sense. There attire was strange, and the scent was foreign to these woods. Her eyes widened and narrowed as she moved closer to investigate the source of the sound.

@fallesto

“Ooh! Ow!” Hushed complaints joined the rustling in the underbrush.  Please…Please don’t let any spiders or snakes hiding here. Don’t bite me, don’t bite me! Please! Harmony thought as she weaves between the foliage for the clearing.  A soft sigh follows those words.

“I knew I should have taken that turn earlier! I have no clue where I’m going now.”  Ah, well. All she can do is get out of the underbrush, take a break, and gather her thoughts before taking the next step.  The curved figure emerges from the dense greenery lined with vines and thorns. Tiny, red scratches from the thorns adorn her calves. She has yet to discover the loose leaves and twigs caught in her long hair.  Exhausted but relieved, the traveler takes one step forward.

“Huh?!” Suddenly, a sharp pull at the back of her hair catches her. Harmony’s head jerks over her shoulder to find a lock of her dark hair caught by a thorny branch.  The moonlight casts the crimson shine in that silken lock, now tangled and wrapped around the branch.

Damn it!

She huffs as she reaches into the underbrush, only to wince when sharp ends graze her slender hands.  Then, a sound halts her pursuit for the captured strands. Silver eyes widen as dread rise deep within her. That sounds like footsteps, and they are coming closer!  Terror kicks her heart to rush in a hurried pace. She turns away from her hair to the source of the steps.

Is it a friend or foe?

Could they be human, fae, or a monster?

She gasps to see who or what could be here.

“A-ah! Oh! Oh, my-“ She gasps as dark brows rise.  Fear disappears, only for sheer excitement to take over when she sees a figure she heard since childhood. A mythical creature she adored when she was a little girl.

“A unicorn! Unicorn! Y-you-real! Real unicorn!” A grin stretches her lips as excitement fills her eyes.  The unicorn looks far more beautiful and graceful than she can ever imagine. She's absolutely radiant, she can't help but stare! Her eyes shine bright in pure wonder

She’s so, so pretty! She thought, only to squeal when the unicorn approached her.

Oh, my stars! She’s coming! She’s coming over! Easy! Don’t scare her. Harmony told herself, still smiling. “H-hey.” Harmony softens her voice for fear that loud sounds could scare her. She ignores her own predicament for now. How can she worry about that when encountering one of the creatures from her childhood dreams?

“Hi! My name is Harmony and I'm from outside the forest! I don’t mean trouble. I kind of got lost and it’s now dark and stuff!”  She holds back another squeal of delight but it’s harder to contain the thrill of this encounter.  

“Um, I’m not sure if you can talk, but if you can, may I please know your name?��

[more-than-a-princess]

A sudden realization of transformation hit him like a bolt from the blue. His gaze shifted sideways, revealing glimpses of his sides that his usual peripheral vision had only hinted at. The rich scents of the forest life surged into his nostrils, drawing in deep breaths as if even the act of walking demanded the kind of air typically reserved for strenuous activity.

The soft rustle of the wind through the branches and the ceaseless melody of birdsong filled his ears, which instinctively turned toward the source of the sounds. His hunched posture now felt like the only way he could ever exist, the notion of standing upright fading into a distant memory.

He glanced down at himself, noticing a chalky barrel chest clad in once-vibrant crimson garments now faded to a sickly yellow, while blue robes lay discarded in the mud near his strangely hoofed feet.

A sudden movement caught his attention, sending a jolt of alarm through his transformed being. With careful observation, he barely caught sight of a thick, furry tail swishing past his rounded backside; his body retained its ample form despite the astonishing changes unfolding.

A breeze brushed against his underbelly, accentuating his newfound, vulnerable nudity. The obvious truth loomed in his mind, yet acceptance eluded him, his thoughts spinning like a mill wheel caught in an endless cycle of confusion. He tossed his head in disbelief and snorted, trying to shake off this surreal nightmare or drunken vision; its persistence burned away any comforting illusions.

He turned to examine himself again, mouth agape in shock—he was no longer a man but a creature of the wild.

The legends of this forest were indeed real, and by some twist of fate or magic, he found himself not as a nobleman, but as a magnificent steed fit for nobility!

Sometimes, all it took to improve her mood was to immerse herself in Novoselic's natural beauty.

Sonia didn't always have the time for it, with an often-full diary of meetings, conferences, royal engagements, fittings, and all manner of events that required the future Queen of Novoselic's attendance. It was all so meticulous, from the outfits selected by her staff the night before, to the curated menu crafted by the Castle chefs in order to best keep her healthy and energized, to her Private Secretary, who started every day sauntering into her bedroom just as the maids had pulled back the curtains and poured her a cup of tea to remind Princess Sonia everything on her schedule for the day alongside any important international news that had broken during the night, all read off an iPad as easily as reciting a favorite poem word for word.

It was, she thought, likely their most-cherished art: taking care of every aspect of royal life so the Royal Family could both simply exist as well as make the hard decisions and negotiations for the better of the nation. Everything organized and in its place, including the people they managed.

That was why, then, she cherished any time she could get at her family's country estate. 35 kilometers to the east of the capital left the busy city streets behind in favor of what seemed like endless hills, clear blue waterfalls, and sparkling lakes at the base of the Alps that ran through Novoselic. Late summer was particularly pleasant, with moderate temperatures for the season and the faintest hint of changing leaves. For that reason, she'd forgo a horseback ride or a Land Rover in favor of a hike: the first fall leaves beneath her boots, jeans and a striped sweater, and her blonde hair tossed back into a tousled braid made her look decidedly common. 

Just as she liked it, as she opened a flannel blanket and spread it over the grass. She'd been hiking for nearly two hours before exiting the forest and finding a suitable spot for lunch: at the bank of a nearby lake, perfect for a picnic and a book she was eager to continue devouring, even more than the freshly-baked baguette and slices of local cheese.

But as she poured herself a cup of hot tea from the thermos she'd carried, nearby footsteps and the crunch of leaves indicated she wasn't alone. Heavier, and in a different pattern of steps than her usual security team: it was enough for her to raise her head in their direction...only to find a horse.

Now, a horse in and of itself wasn't terribly rare: she had one of her own and her family kept several, both for riding and to pull the various centuries-old carriages brought out for special occasions. But this horse wore no saddle, or bridle, or even a simple harness and lead, so it was doubtful that it had gotten away from its rider. Sonia watched it for a moment, wondering if it would be spooked before letting curiosity get the better of her. She'd blame Gundham for this, when she told him the story later: she couldn't ignore an animal in need.

"Hello there!" She called out in French. She guessed from the region of the country her family's estate resided in, it was more likely that French was spoken, as opposed to Italian, English, or Japanese. "Are you lost? Did you perhaps seek your freedom through an unsecured gate or broken fence?" 

It happened at times: grand country estates that had stood for hundreds of years had no shortage of repairs, including the gates and fences meant to keep their residents in and strangers out, animals included. And horses, she knew, weren't wild in the Novosonian countryside: this one likely belonged to someone, who might not have realized it was lost.