#MATHYE WHAT THE FUCK

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

PVP with the Bishops

Augustine, later:  I chose violence

[chysgoda]

Evidentiary Part Two

A Desertwalkers Tale

Investigations | Part One

The deputy and the doctor (evidently the deputy’s brother) were hissing at each other in low tones and felt very far away. Hephaistos looked down at his granddaughter and struggled to connect the freshly changed bandages on her torso and down one arm, with the young woman who decided to throw aside her hard won masters to play at being a hero in the dust. She looked small on a bed that was long enough for the tallest likely patient. On a small stand next to the bed he saw Bel’s grimoire. He absently touched the chains and phoenix feathers which glowed like sleepy embers against his skin. Hephaistos had sent his old grimoire with her when she’d gone across the salt and she’d carefully added her own spells to the blank pages in the back. 

It did not seem to have served her well here. 

“What happened to her?”

The brothers Bishop looked up from whatever they had been whispering about. The doctor’s eyes narrowed, “Fucking Livia Junis is what happened to her. And she came in better than most of the people I see because of that bitch. She’ll make a full recovery if she listens to directions.”

“Better?” Hephaistos asked, his voice tight. 

“Livia isn’t known for restraint,” Deputy Augustine said. “Most people-“

“Either leave here able to tell the fucking weather, or in a damned pine box.” Mathye finished for his brother. The Lahabrea patriarch noted that the doctor had a leg brace when he turned and folded his arms over his chest, “Which I’m sure you are aware of, being her boss’s fucking lawyer.” 

He was aware of it, but in a distant clinical way. In the way of receiving reports from the junior associates he sent out to be the hands filling out papers and submitting them to the local judge. He sat down at the foot of the bed and watched his granddaughter. Her chest rose and fell in a steady cadence, but something of the pain must have chased her as she slept and pulled her expression from peaceful into pained. 

The distant whispering stopped and the door opened and closed. Bel wouldn’t be here in this backwater clinic under the care of a backwater saw bones if she’d just listened to his advice. She could have been settling into the family firm where he could guide and mold her to take over after he retired. She could have been established at the university back in the city working continuing the research she’d started with her grandmother’s guiding hand on her shoulder. She should be back in the city where the most physical harm she might face would be a mild hangover from drinking herself a bit silly after having to deal with Athena’s high society acquaintances. 

Instead she was here, burned and bandaged. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when Bel groaned and a furry purple ear twitched. She twisted a bit and hissed when the motion pulled on her burned skin, she looked at him with unfocused groggy eyes, “Grandpa?”

The tone reminded him, too painfully, of when he and her mother had taken her from Athena’s lab after his wife’s second bout of madness. She’d been five years old and terrified and clung to him or Idunn as she whimpered. “It’s me, I’m going to-” 

Another shift and hiss of pain brought sharpness to his granddaughter’s miss matched blue and green eyes. Her next words were growled, “You damn well better not have taken my evidence.”

The sudden shift felt like a slap in the face and he felt his voice and temper respond, “You stole those ledgers.”

“Like hell I did!” Bel yelled back at him. “It’s salvage if his name wasn't on the deed.”

“You have no idea what you are doing” Hephaistos was on his feet and looming over the girl. 

A hand on his bicep dug in and yanked him back. The medic glared at him and jerked a thumb at the door, “Get the fuck out of my clinic.”

“This is my granddaughter!” Lahabrea growled

“I don’t fucking care. Get out of my fucking clinic.” The medic pulled him back harder surprisingly strong. Bel had forced herself to sit up so she could glare properly at her grandfather which only earned her the medics ire as well. Mathye jabbed a finger in her direction, “you will damn well lay back down before you tear that healing skin.”

Bel did as she was told with bad grace and Mathye turned his attention back to Hephaistos. The lawyer ground his teeth and looked at his granddaughter who was pointedly staring at the wall. He ground his teeth and stormed out before the sawbones could cuss at him again. At the very least the door slammed with a satisfying sound. 

Hephaistos Lahabrea began to walk back to the hotel and from the corner of his eye caught the familiar sight of a priest of the Holy Mother and Father. A priest with a familiar face. He did not stare at the priest in white robes that crossed the road. Just like the priest did not stare at the lawyer in a black suit. Lahabrea walked into the hotel and stopped at the front desk to hand over a key. “I no longer need room five.”

“Oh course sir,” the young woman had a carefully blank face. “Will there be anything else?”

“That will be all,” Lahabrea left without any pleasantries. Once he was in his room and the door locked behind him he poured water from the pitcher on top of the dresser into the basin that provided the most basic of washing up possibilities. He splashed water on his face but did not look into the mirror to see what he already knew was there. He found himself thinking of his Ericthonios in the wake of the encounter with his granddaughter. His son looked like he was every inch his son from his ember orange hair to the scarlet eyes set in dark skin, but his son was aging into laugh lines not scowl lines and his hair was not burned white by his own ambition. He considered looking for Claudine who he knew was lurking around Stonewood but after all of today’s chasing after nothing he did not have the energy to hunt down a son to argue with. 

There was one possibility that might salvage this trip to this town forsaken by the Mother and Father. Lahabrea grabbed the hand towel and patted his face dry. He locked the door behind him when he left and began walking to the chapel on the west side of town. He knew the shape of the building he was looking for without ever having seen it. The Holy Church of the Mother and Father liked to keep a consistent image. He’d been raised in the old religion that had come from across the salt. He still went enough to be seen doing so, making an effort at the show of piety helped mitigate some of the dark reputation that the Lahabrea Legal Firm had. 

The inside of the church was a pale shard of the grand cathedrals in the lands across the salt. The walls were white washed with middling violet and blue tapestries. The wooden pews were painted white with faded purple scrollwork painted on the backs. Behind the alter the rounded abstract figures of Mother Hydaelyn and Father Zodiark were carefully painted wood rather than carved alabaster and amethyst lit from within by ancient crystal. The only thing that did not seem like a worn out facsimile was the blood red stole that now hung over the shoulders of the priest. 

“You are several hours early if you want to attend midnight service.” Lahabrea would never lose that edge of surprise when the deep baritone voice rang out from the man’s slight frame. 

“Elidibus,” He stopped walking at the front row of pews and watched the priest set out candles in preparation for the service. 

“I prefer Themis these days,” the he turned to face Lahabrea. Themis was the same age as his sons, old enough to have children grown, but he still looked barely old enough to convince a saloon keeper to let him drink. 

“This isn’t where I expected to find you,” Lahabrea probed but only received one of Themis’s polite smiles. He pushed harder, “I assume you’ve-”

“I do not work for you anymore Hephaistos,” Themis cut him off, “And I have not for several years now.”

“One does not simply walk away from a vocation like yours, Elidibus,” Lahabrea put heated emphasis on the name. 

“Oh there has been nothing simple about my path,” Themis stepped up to the alter and looked at him with that same polite smile but now the blue eyes were calculating. “I would advise you to caution Hephaistos Lahabrea. The Mother and Father ensure balance in all things and all lives. You would not want anything to upset that balance and draw their will into action.” 

Lahabrea bristled at the obtusely worded threat. “Nothing you know could be used in court.”

“True balance is rarely found in the Dawnservent’s courts. You have helped to ensure as much. And so I doubt that any redress for your sins would happen there.” Themis folded his hands neatly in front of him. “I will pray that you have an uneventful trip back to the city.”

Lahabrea clenched a fist as Themis turned away from him. He stormed out of the church without even crumbs that might make something of the trip to this backwater. He returned to the hotel and slept poorly in an unfamiliar bed that night. The next morning at the train station he watched two Landsguard agents in full uniform board with the box that contained the evidence that he had originally set out to get. 

He would need to find out what those ledgers contained. Hephaistos took his seat in the single passenger car and pinched the bridge of his nose. It could wait until tomorrow when the dust of Stonewood was no longer clinging to him as a reminder of what he had failed to do. 

[zashahope]

Zasha Hope was humming in a peaceful manner as she was trimming the hedges of her topiary to make sure it kept its carbuncle shape.

Farrson Odim came walking up and through the arch to the manse. His coats was dripping wet and it looked like his left pant leg was soaked in blood, "Hey, Zasha."

Zasha Hope glanced over, holding a trimming sheer in hand with a small smile. That smile faultered though. "Ah... you okay there?"

Lerran Nemas walked up the path a bit trying to get the water out of his hair with a small cough. "Hmh?" He paused, glancing over at Zasha when he heard Farrson greet her.

Alexander Rendon was about to stride into the homestead, right through the front door before his eyes widened upon the sight of Zasha. He looked down at himself, looking like he just came out of a slaughterhouse - covered in blood, drippings, and entrails of the Amalj'aa he had slaughtered as he stepped right on the cobble leading to the main door. "Shite...I'm covered in blood..." He murmured, having heard stories of Zasha's wrath. "Wait... I KNOW!"

Alexander Rendon experiences a brief moment of enlightenment.

Farrson Odim: "Hmmm? Or. Its fine. Just gutted a toad in the shroud and rubbed it on my leg. Sort of a fetus."

Zasha Hope grimmaced. "Well make sure you wash off before going inside." she said before going to put the scissors on her tool belt. "I'll get the ho---" she paused as she heard Alex shout his 'I know!' and glanced over with a clueless expression.

Lerran Nemas: "I have a bad feeling about this."

Lerran Nemas: "Nothing good happens when he has ideas."

Farrson Odim: "He has ideas?"

Lerran Nemas: "Not ones that are actually worth calling that. . ." Lerran muttered under his breath.

Alexander Rendon with a grin and a look of accomplishment and actual self-respect, he confidently /strut/ over to the hot tub, stripping off pieces of armour on the way as he disappeared behind a screen, which was soon followed by a splash. Alex, the blood-covered Midlander, the former Demon Wolf of Carteneau, was now stripped down to his skivvies, revealing his scarred, chiseled physique and eight-pack abs which glistened with perspiration from the exertions of battle...as he hopped into the hot springs +

Alexander Rendon: with a relieved sigh.

Lerran Nemas: ". . ."

Zasha Hope stared. "D....Did he...Did he just go...blood covered in there..."

Lerran Nemas: "Yup. . ."

Farrson Odim: "Uhhhh... I'm sure Frisk will stop him?"

Zasha Hope: "That's... incredbily unsanity for the others that go in after right?"

Lerran Nemas: "Yup. . ."

Farrson Odim: "Oh. speaking on that. We'll be having a few geusts tonight... they are not as blood covered as Alex, of course."

Zasha Hope: let out a small noise before pulling out her bush trimming sheers and stomping over to the hot tub.

Mathye Bishop comes out, quickly wrapping a bandage around his left hand again.

Lerran Nemas: "I don't think she can hear you right now. The rage is to strong."

Alexander Rendon: "Oh man, this was a great idea!" Alex's voice floated over the walls of the springs, "I should've done this sooner! Now I won't track blood all over the inside of the Homestead and make Zasha mad at me!"

Zasha Hope: "What. THe. Actual. Fuck. Rendon."

Mathye Bishop: "Wait what's this about...blood and rage?"

Mathye Bishop: "...Why is she using profanity?"

Mathye Bishop: "And hasn't slumped into a faint?"

Farrson Odim: "Oh... But she's so cute when she is angry. Her voice goes up a few octives."

Lerran Nemas: "Alexander Rendon is why."

Mathye Bishop: "...GODDAMN IT ALEX CAN'T YOU KEEP OUT OF SHITE FOR LIKE TWENTY FOUR FUCKING BELLS."

Farrson Odim: "He went into the hot tub covered in blood... So somebody is going to need to clean it."

Alexander Rendon: "...She gave me moko brownies, I should be considerate of her - " His head snapped so hard it almost gave him whiplash, "Wait, what do you mean what the actual fu - wait, what the fuck you just swore, Zasha. Uh...I'm making sure I don't track blood all over the homestead?" He grinned weakly.

Mathye Bishop: "...The hot tub that Amber uses for her medical treatments?"

Lerran Nemas: "It's more of a general tub, but Amber does use it more then anyone else. Hot springs are meant for relaxing, not actual bathing."

Farrson Odim: "You are ment to clean yourself before you go in."

Zasha Hope held up the trimming sheers. He couldn't see her face from the rim of her hat hiding casting a shadow. "Do you know... that blood leaves pathogens that can be very harmful to the sick or pregnant thus why I tell people to -hose- off before going in the HOmestead...?"

Mathye Bishop facepalms. "Goddamn it. Though if he dies, I call dibs on all his belongings."

Farrson Odim: "Alex... Well... He had all sorts of blood and other boddily fluid on him."

Alexander Rendon 's hands immediately went to cover his groin after spying the shears in Zasha's hands. "...Isn't...this a way of hosing off?"

Mathye Bishop: "..."

Mathye Bishop: "Yeah I'm not touching that shite with a ten yalm pole."

Zasha Hope: "That is a place people go to rest and relax. Not bathe. -Amber- who is -6- moons along uses it to sooth cramps. And you're putting -blood- in it?"

Alexander Rendon: "...Am I not supposed to?" Alex blinked twice.

Mathye Bishop makes to finish tying off the bandage around his left hand. "Zasha if you murder him, I want the body for science."

Farrson Odim: "I'm more worried about Zasha. She's holding sheers and is clumsy as can be." he paused, "Though... I've never seen her fall down stairs and such while angry..."

Lerran Nemas: "Bless his idiot soul. . . he tried." Lerran said dryly.

Mathye Bishop: "...WHY ARE YOU LETTING HER HOLD SHARP THINGS?!"

Zasha Hope leaned out. Were here eyes glowing red like a demon's. "Shut the fuck up Mathye." she said before leaning back slowly to the hot tub, pointing the sheers at Alex.

Zasha Hope: "No."

Farrson Odim: "Because you think I could tell her what to do?"

Alexander Rendon backed away from Zasha as she pointed the shears at Alex, squeaking as he backed up against the wall. "I thought I was doing a good by bathing before going in...I'm...not doing a good?"

Mathye Bishop: "...Woman, if you fucking faceplant and stab yourself, your ass ending up in my infirmary, and we're both going to be unhappy."

Lucerna Sainahs is dropped off along with Zayaat and ten captives of various ages and races. She had an arrow sized for an Amal'jaa sticking out of her abdomen, but she has since snapped most of the shaft off so she could move around easier. "Um.. is everything alright?"

Lerran Nemas: "Zasha. . . we have guests from a traumatic experience walking up the path to the homestead. Can you pause the threats for a moment?"

Mathye Bishop: "...WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Zasha Hope: "No. You get the hose and spray off. That's why we have the hose." Zasha said. "You've contaimented a medical area and did you what that I am have the full training of castration of pigs?"

Farrson Odim looked over his shoulder, "Oh... alex is making Zasha want to murder him. The normal things."

Alexander Rendon: "...."

Mathye Bishop: "WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE AN ARROW STICKING OUT OF YOU AND WHO THE FUCK ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?!"

Alexander Rendon: "I should run now, shouldn't I."

Mathye Bishop rushes over to inspect Lucerna!

Zayaat Malqir: "Oy, language."

Zasha Hope glared, he could see the look of pure rage on her face. "I will put that knowledge on YOU if you don't empty out the hotsprings and sanatize it up to Lerran's expectations."

Lerran Nemas: "Alex had an idea and tried to do a good thing, but did a bad thing inseat. Theusual."

Alexander Rendon: "..."

Mathye Bishop: "No.  If Zasha curses, I get to curse. Period."

Alexander Rendon: "................"

Zayaat Malqir: "Two, I was going to have it removed before we left, but everyone else left before I could start removing the arrow."

Mathye Bishop pins Lucerna with the Medical Look of Doom. "You."

Alexander Rendon: "I'mgonnapaysomeprofessionalcleanerstodothisforyouinsteadcauseI'mnotgoodatthissortofthinganywaythanksforlettingmetakeabathBYE!"

Zasha Hope grabs Alex's aether suddenly, holding him still from a distance.

Lucerna Sainahs: A tiny black-haired blue-eyed lalafel child, not older than twelve summers, is standing by Zayaat's legs. "We get to curse here? Fuck yeah!"

Lerran Nemas: "I was going to take care of it when we got here. . . I didn't feel like dealing with her not wanting treated on site."

Zasha Hope: "No. You're FUCKING doing it. RIGHT GODSDAMNED NOW!"

Alexander Rendon was stopped in mid-air, and the wind aether was cut off abruptly. To add injury to his misfortune, Alex immediately began to fall down the cliff, tumbling and smacking into the cliff-face as he fell down the rocks.

Zasha Hope used her aether manipulation on his aetherial signature, yanking ALex backwards and reversing his movements to make him splash back in the bloody hotsprings.

Alexander Rendon was yoted back into the hot springs, bruised, bloodied, and with several rocks and twigs sticking out of his muscular body as he fell into the hot springs, face-first, despaired gurgling the only indicators of life.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #1: Steer

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"How the fuck do you steer this thing?" Reinhardt asked, looming over the skyslipper's passenger side. Then he grunted as a hand seized his collar and pulled him back.

"Absolutely the fuck not." Augustine commanded. "I'm driving." Climbing past Zurvan's Dominant, the paladin dropped his bag next to the skyslipper's driver seat.

"Since when the hells do you get to drive?!" Reinhardt demanded.

"Since I don't trust you, don't trust my brother, and I especially do not trust Sebastian." Augustine bent over to adjust the pedals for his height.

"Halone take the wheel." Sebastian cracked, placing his own satchel into the skyslipper's carryon. That done, he dropped into the first passenger seat.

Would rather not. Came the snarky reply.

"How long is it going to take to get to..wherever the hells we're going?" Mathye asked, climbing on board.

"Whenever Ryne says 'stop' apparently." Augustine replied, settling down in the driver's seat. He started to flick the slipper's control switches as Reinhardt tossed his bag into the carryon hammock.

"Where's Riven?"

"First slipper. And I tried to get her out of it, but she said no." At least Riven was with Thancred, which mollified Augustine somewhat. The scheming of the Exarch and Urianger was still raw amongst the tight-knit group--despite explanations and apologies. As a tactician, Augustine could understand why the pair had done it--even more so when the Exarch had revealed all other ways had failed. But as a Dominant, as Riven's friend, as one of her brothers...

Augustine. Halone murmured. The paladin started. Inhaling, he forced himself to let go of the wheel--he'd been gripping it to the point where he was starting to crush the metal.

"Sorry." He whispered.

It's alright. Halone let a gentle touch of frost brush over her First Dominant's fingers. It...will take time for things to settle. Time for wounds to heal, time for trust--if it could be recovered--to regrow. The Scions could not afford division amongst themselves, nor could the Dominants afford quarrels with their keepers turned friends/allies. The goddess of Ice and War hoped that the...expedition into the Empty would begin the healing process.

"I am not sitting next to this dumbass." Mathye declared, breaking into Halone's musings. "Sebastian, switch with me."

"No."

"What's wrong with sitting next to me?!" Reinhardt demanded. Augustine rolled his eyes, slipping the key into the skyslipper's ignition.

"Mat." He called out warningly as the machina coughed and rattled to life with a loud roar. "All of you. Behave!"

"I have an idea for a game."

"I will fucking kill you." Augustine sighed again, turning around so he could start backing up.

"Why did I even volunteer to do this?" He asked the air.

Reinhardt is not to be trusted with anything mobile, my Dominant would probably drive all of us into a ditch whenever his patience snapped, and do you honestly want your brother behind the wheel? Odin countered.

"We crashed one time!" Reinhardt protested.

Once was enough. Zurvan rumbled.

"I should have gone with Zoissette and the others." Augustine sighed.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #26: Zip

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(Dawntrail)

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Pa-paya! Payapaya pa-paya!

Sebastian’s eyes opened. He stared up at the ceiling for several seconds before the headache roared to life.

Pa-paya, payapaya pa-paya!

Oh my fucking gods.

“No…” He heard Reinhardt moan. “Riven…no…” Next to the dragoon, Augustine winced and curled up into a small ball.

Pa-paya, payapaya pa-paya!!

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut. Counted to five. Then slitted them open, hissing as the pain knifed through his skull again. He could hear Valefor’s chirping—or rather, he recognized the song that Riven was delightfully filling his aching ears with.

“Shut her up.” Mathye growled from under the bed. There was the sound of movement, and then the clinking of glass bottles. Sebastian winced at the sound.

What…? There were vague memories of last night—a bar, and then…

Pineapples. Odin rumbled. All four of you decided to drink them.

“Drink?” Sebastian got out, swallowing. His throat was suddenly so very dry…

Yes. You all drank nothing but those pineapples. And would not let Riven partake of one.

Pa-paya, payapaya pa-paya!!

“Riven.” Augustine’s voice was a mirror of his older brother’s now.

Pa-paya, payapaya pa-paya!!

“It is seven-o-clock in the morning.” Sebastian gingerly rolled over onto his side—and blinked. Riven was Primed into her small form, perched atop a pile of books. Her little head was bobbing up and down as she continued to chirp the lyrics to Pa-Paya.

“Silence.” Mathye growled, holding up a finger. Riven stilled, fluffing up her feathers as she surveyed the prone and hungover bodies of her siblings. Sebastian closed his eyes in relief, blessed, blessed silence…

Pa-paya, payapaya pa-paya!!

Odin’s Dominant opened his eyes in time to see a snowball zip towards the pile of books.

-----

(inspired by @saesama commenting that this very scenario should happen, based on this post: https://www.tumblr.com/everythingfox/744504540456452096/living-with-a-singer )

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #3: Tempest

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( guest-starring @saesama 's Klynt)

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Even with Klynt at the topmast and the storm-shielding in place, it took the ship another two hours to clear the sudden tempest. When they finally were free of the storm, Reinhardt carried Klynt back inside to the small area the Dominants were using for sleeping. Mathye was already there, armed and ready with his medical kit.

“Fucking hells, she looks like shite.” He breathed. Reinhardt set her down on the travel-mattress, taking the mana potion Halone’s Second Dominant was holding out. Without ceramony, he held it to the roe's lips.

“Drink.” He ordered. To his relief and anxiety, Klynt obeyed, not putting up a fight as how she normally would. Once the bottle was dry, Mathye handed over another one.

“What’s it like topside?” He asked.

“If you’re asking if the sailors are going to throw us in chains or overboard, the answer is no. They’re more concerned about their own and her.” Reinhardt watched as Klynt greedily downed the second mana potion. Her color had improved, and as he reached for a third bottle, she reached out for his wrist.

“I’m alright.” She rasped. “Susano is too. We’re just tired. Sleep’ll fix us.” Reinhardt looked at Mathye, who was checking Klynt’s pulse. The white mage looked back at him, nodding.

“Sleep and food.” He directed. “Ship’s cook has some stew going that’s not actually half-bad. Let’s get some—” He trailed off as Klynt’s free hand moved, Susano’s strength now gripping him. Reinhardt blinked as the same vice-like grip locked around his hand as well.

“Klynt?!"

“What the—” Klynt pulled, making both men loom over her. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

“That storm was not natural!” She whispered. “We heard a voice on the wind, commanding it!” Susano’s wine-dark tones crept into her last words, and she let go of the pair. Reinhardt and Mathye shared a shocked glance.

“Someone was commanding the storm?” Mathye was the first to recover, while Reinhardt rocked back on his heels and scanned the room. For the moment, they were the only ones present.

“A power like ours, behind it.” Klynt swallowed again. “Strong as us. Maybe stronger. It took everything we had to keep the worst at bay.”

A power like...wait a minute! “An Eikon?!” Reinhardt hissed. Zurvan immediately surged to the forefront of his mind, and he was certain Halone was doing the same.

“Don’t know.” Klynt replied. Mathye turned and poured a glass of water, holding it to the pirate queen’s lips. Klynt greedily drained it dry, and Mathye refilled the glass.

“Are you certain about what you two sensed?” He asked, his voice low. Klynt nodded.

“I don’t know if it was a primal, god, or Eikon, but that storm was not natural. It was summoned by someone, and being controlled by them.” Reinhardt shared a look with Mathye, and in the aether Zurvan and Halone were doing the same.

Wuk Lamat spoke of creatures called turaal vidraal that she likened to us. Halone ventured. Could this be one of them?

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #13: Butte

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"There is like...nothing out here!"

"Want to reconsider that?" Augustine asked, beginning to unstrap his chestpiece. Mathye paused.

"Alright. This isn't in the same category as the Empty. But!" He gestured at the Yawtanane Grasslands.

"It's fucking flat!! Save for those random ass mountains!"

Butte. Halone corrected.

"Random ass mountains, weird looking bushes, rocks everywhere--"

"Don't forget the suspiciously buff cactuars." Reinhardt added. Augustine rolled his eyes, freeing himself from his armor.

"Has anyone seen Riven?" He asked, putting his chestpiece into the wagon. A screech was his answer as Sebastian carefully held up Valefor in her small form by one leg.

"Here."

"Riven, un-Prime please."

It's hoootttt. Riven complained. It's cooler if I'm like this and on the floor!

''Suffer like the rest of us." Sebastian ordered. Riven squawked and tried to bite him. Augustine sighed, looking at Erenville.

"If you want to leave us behind you're more than welcome to." He said. The gleaner sighed, shrugging.

"If I do, I have a feeling you lot would get into worse trouble." He said.

"How much further is it to...where is it that we're going?" Reinhardt asked.

"We're only a third of the way in." Erenville answered. "About another four hours to the rroneek stop." He blinked as five pairs of eyes-or rather four human and one bird--suddenly stared at him.

"Four hours?!" Mathye exclaimed.

What do you mean we're only one third of the way in?! Riven screeched.

"Did you think that traveling up here was going to end up being the same like Eorzea?" Erenville fought hard to repress a smile. "If anything, it'll take longer for us to get around up here in Xak Tural than down in Yok Tural."

We've been traveling for five hours! How is this only one third-of the way in?!

"I would suggest we keep moving. I doubt you all would want to test yourselves against the night life out here."

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #5: Stamp

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The raised edges of the stamp pressed against Augustine's palm as he started to crumple the paper. Halone was a low simmer of wrath in his belly, needle-like pinpricks of ice snaking up his spine. In front of him were several fresh graves, Riven having tapped into Valefor's powers to provide the group of Temple Knights they'd found a temporary burial.

"The Archbishop ordered a platoon out here." Halone was in his throat, turning every single word he uttered into ice. Faintly Augustine registered a hand resting on his shoulder, Darkness humming just under the skin. Turning his head, he caught Sebastian's eye. Odin's Dominant shook his head.

"Easy." He warned, the greenish light of Azys Lla giving his skin an eerie tinge. "Your anger is justified, but not out here. You need your senses sharp." For several moments Augustine could only stare at Sebastian, a retort fast forming on his tongue. Odin's Dominant of all people, telling him to calm down?!

"August." Mathye said. Augustine felt Halone check--and he closed his eyes. Damn the man, he was right.

"You said a platoon. Is it the missing one Lucia and Handelhoup were speaking of?" Riven asked.

"More than likely." Mathye answered. "Two squads of Temple Knights, and--"

"One dragoon." Estinien finished, a barely suppressed growl in his voice. "I had control of the Knights-Dragoon, and we had our missing squadron right up until your encounter with Bismark. When that pissant got his hands on the key, he must have ordered them to head out and come here."

"Why?" Alphinaud breathed. "Why would he..."

"Cannon fodder." Sebastian answered. His voice was grim as he released Augustine's shoulder. "Bodies to distract us while he goes about doing whatever the hell he's up to here."

"He'd need a fucking army, not just a platoon!" Riven said, her voice low. Augustine started, his eyes flying open.

"...What if that's what he's here for?" He exclaimed.

"An army?" Riven repeated.

"Of what, Allagan monstrosities from the seven hells?" Sebastian retorted.

"No. No. Augustine's onto something." Mathye said. "He doesn't need Allagan monsters, he's got his own private army! Or...close to it!"

The Heavens' Ward. Halone whispered. False Eikons.

"False Eikons." Alphinaud mirrored Halone. "Or as close to them as he could. You defeated them in the Vault. What if...they're unfinished? And there's something here that could complete the process?" All eyes flicked to Riven, who closed hers and bowed her head.

"...Nothing from Valefor." She said. "Aside from her being nervous--but that's normal when we're around Allagan ruins and the like." She opened her eyes.

"How many men in a platoon?" Sebastian asked Augustine, Mathye and Estinien.

"Dragoon unit would be six." Estinien answered.

"Temple Knights would make up at least thirty, so thirty-six for a full platoon. If they were specialized like Augustine, twenty." Mathye replied. "And if they were here to stop us, they'd have anti-Eikon weaponry and traps waiting for us." Sebastian glanced back at the graves.

"...Assuming they're even still alive to use them." He said.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

List 3 prompt 11: quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials for margrat & mathye :3

cut for smut. citrus warnings.

(i owo at you ma'am)

Maybe if he fucked her hard enough, he could get that need for her smell out of his system. Just work it out and carry on with life.

But her voice wasn't helping--low, sultry moans and gasps, nor was the feel of her nails lashing his back--the deeper they bit in, the more they raked his skin--badges of honor for satisfying her that made something in him growl and want more. Her hips writhing against his, demanding more, more more--the feel of her warm cunt around his cock, how he seemed to fit just right--

Mathye buried his face in Margrat's neck as she screamed, his pleasure spiking at the smell of her perfume, the way her body shook around him, the searing pain from his shoulders--good girl, let her leave her mark--he couldn't help himself, he could feel her pulse when he kissed her skin, that violent flutter in her neck that made him just want to reach down and just take a nibble, to hold her there as she kept howling in orgasm--and for him to take his own pleasure too, relief and bliss overloading his senses as he hit his breaking point.

They stayed that way for several moments--arms and legs and clothing, Mathye letting himself take another deep drag of that passionflower-and-whatever-the-fuck-it-was smell, getting his fix. Then he pulled himself away from the wall-carefully taking Margrat with him, and set her down on a nearby table. She murmured, hands reaching out to him as he pulled free of her body.

"Hm--mm?" She'd been warm, now it was getting cold. Margrat pushed herself up on her elbows, blinking at the healer.

"What, that's it?" She demanded.

"Yes." Mathye carefully secured his pants, then made to start buttoning up his shirt. He was not going to look at her, he wasn't going to look at how tempting she was all laid out, freshly fucked and smellable and biteable-- Shirt secured, he started to fasten his vest.

"Just 'wham, bam, put your clothes back on ma'am?!""

"Yes. Of which, put your clothes back on." Mathye turned his back, the better to not look at Margrat. Gingerly he tested his leg--still good, it'd held up well--and no he wasn't going to be proud of that right now, he'd deal with that later. The rustling of fabric behind him told him that Margrat seemed to be obeying--for the moment.

"You're a boor." She accused, glaring daggers at him.

"You're the one who said make it quick and leave." Mathye retorted. He risked a quick glimpse in a nearby window--his hair looked rumpled, but he could make up an excuse for that. Pants secure, shirt and vest secure, so was his lab coat...good. Picking up a nearby towel, Mathye retrieved the used condom and wrapped it up carefully with the fabric. One good Fire spell would get rid of the evidence.

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Free Write #1: Reconnaissance

"WOMAN! STOP! JUST--STOP IT!"

"Ser..." Mathye didn't hear the squire at first, he was laughing too hard. Sucking in a breath, he turned his attention to the gangly-limbed youth before him. Halone bless the child, they looked extremely nervous.

"Lord Bishop, shouldn't we...do something?" Behind the squire, Estinien was running pell mell around the main training area for House Fortemps. And hot on his heels, screaming like an utter banshee was Riven--or rather, Valefor.

Who was currently the size of a goose. Apparently Riven's control over her Eikon was very good, she could shrink her size if need be to make hunting or (in this case, reconnaissance) easier. She had offered this skill to scout out Castrum Aquilonis, to which Haurchefant had welcomed.

Mathye had no idea how Estinien had gotten involved, nor what had happened to instigate yet another fight between the elezen and Riven. But the sight of the Azure Dragoon-now-turned-Dominant-of-Nidhogg running around the courtyard, seemingly having forgotten that he could simply jump to safety, being chased by a bird that just barely came up to just below his knees, was fucking hilarious.

"Ser--"

"The Fury has sanctioned this battle." Mathye decreed with a straight face, and then had to keep from choking with laughter at the stricken look on the squire's own. "It's alright, you're not going to get in trouble! Go about your normal duties."

"Mathye, what in the seven hells is going on--" Augustine hurried over--just as Estinien somehow tripped, falling down onto the hard-packed dirt of the training circle. With a scream Riven charged, starting to peck violently at any part of the dragoon she could reach. When that didn't work, she seized the back of Estinien's collar in her beak and started to pull as hard as she could. The First Dominant of Halone took in the scene, then fixed his howling older brother with a glare.

"Really, Mathye?"

"He said the Fury sanctioned this!" The squire repeated. This only set off Mathye even harder, while Augustine sighed. Estinien was still yelling and flailing, and Riven was still trying to drag him by her beak.

"Has she forgotten she can change back?" Haurchefant--who had come out behind Augustine--wondered aloud through chuckles. "And did Ser Estinien forget he could jump?" Side-eyeing his manically cackling sibling, Augustine stepped forward to try and resolve the mess.

"Riven!" He snarled, power echoing in his voice. Valefor and Estinien both stopped--the eikon looking at the group with beady eyes. She blinked.

<Oh.> A shimmer of aether--and Estinien's head fell back as Riven returned to her normal self. She pointed down at the dragoon.

"He started--aaaaahhagghh!" Estinien aimed a blow at the back of Riven's legs, sending the younger Dominant to the ground. Augustine facepalmed, while Mathye dissolved in laughter once more.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight- late arrival (1)

A wave of exhaustion made Mathye wobble as he tucked Riven in. First taking care of Alisaie, then Riven, both absolutely heartsick- Alisaie more than his sister, his own memories of the mercy kills he'd had to perform during the war coming back to haunt him…

Enough. Halone's voice was an unyielding command. Sit down. Rest.

"My lady." Mathye murmured. Gratefully he obeyed, his robes rustling as the bed dipped beneath him. Then he started as a glass appeared in front of him.

"Fruit juice." Sebastian offered. "Or so they say. Tasted like no fruit juice I'd ever had before.”

"I thought I told you to sit down." Mathye said, accepting the glass.

"And I told you to go fuck yourself. I'm fine. So is Odin." Sebastian countered. Seeing Mathye drain the glass dry, the darkness Dominant turned. Striding toward the dinner table, he picked up the jug of juice that was on it, coming back over to Mathye.

"How is she?" Concern was in his voice as he looked at Riven.

"She'll be better when she wakes up. Both of them-her and Alisaie. " Mathye watched Sebastian top up his drink. "I still want to smash that bastard’s face in, however."

"The tainted Light?”

"She said it wasn't bothering her or Valefor." Mathye drained the glass again. "I can sense it in her aether but it seems inert. But to be on the safe side, I told her not to Prime." Sebastian offered more juice, and Mathye nodded, "In fact, we probably shouldn't be Priming, period. At least not until we can talk to Zoissette."

"Little hard to do considering she fucked off to only gods-know-where Y’shtola is.”  Seeing Mathye shake his head at another refill, Sebastian went to put the jug back down, but not before getting his own glass.

"Also, not Priming might be too tall an order."  He added. "There's how many Lightwarderns left? And with how beat up Riven was from fighting only one?”  Mathye frowned, looking down at his empty glass.

"I would prefer we not Prime because even though the night's been returned to this area, there's still an overabundance of Light in the aether here." He began.

You think us drawing on the ambient aether might corrupt us. Halone whispered. Mathye nodded.

What if we limited our time exposed? Odin asked.

"A possibility, but Zoissette’s far better at figuring such things out than I. And I'm thinking we need to make it a priority to find her first, despite whatever the fail summoner tells us.”  Mathye exhaled. “We find her, we can better navigate the aether of this world without any permanent damage.”

"Did you see his reaction when he saw us?" Sebastian asked.

"I saw. He didn't expect us here."

More than that. He was lying when he said the spell malfunctioned when it came to you all. Augustine is already suspicious, and both Reinhardt and Zurvan are on alert. Halone added. Mathye exhaled, bending over.

"I can't help but feel we got here too late." He began, glancing at the sleeping Riven. "We came too late, and now she's got the aether of a Lightwarden inside her. And has agreed to kill the remaining four. I trust that damn Exarch as far as I can throw him.”

“Could ask him where Y’shtola is, then head out in that direction.”  Sebastian offered. “He can’t stop all of us.”

“Maybe.” Mathye mused. “Thancred and Urianger aren’t around here either. Part of me would feel better if we’re all together, considering what happened to break us apart in the first place.”  A thought occurred to him, and the priest straightened.

“Speaking of Zoissette…did you lose her aether too?”

“I could sense her in the forest, but then it was like she was swallowed up by Light.”  Sebastian replied. “Hopefully she’s found Y’shtola and unPrimed, but with how much the machine was taking over…”

“It’ll be a while before she’s back to normal. And we can’t track her when she’s not Primed.”  Mathye sighed, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes. “Shite.”

The best option right now is to gather as much information as we can. Odin was a whisper in the men’s minds. If your suspicion about the Light-aether corrupting us is correct, then you both need to rest. We will have to rely heavily on your resources if you call us into more active service.

You more than us. Halone responded. Light-blessed your bearer is, but I can tell this is taxing on you, Odin.

It is bearable now. More than likely due to the Light being expelled from the region.

“I’ll see about our rooms.”  Sebastian added. “And track down Augustine and Reinhardt. You get some sleep.”

“Hhng.” Mathye grunted, rubbing his eyes again. “I’ll be—”

“No.” Sebastian’s voice was sharp. “Until we find Zoissette, you’re the only damn thing we have that can warn us about what the Light can do to our bodies. That means not overworking yourself—and putting your health before ours when it’s called for.”

He’s right. Halone whispered. You need to rest. Mathye sighed, closing his eyes.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stretch out for a bit.” He said, submitting to Sebastian and Halone’s demand. “But wake me if something happens.”

------ on our fates alight general masterpost here

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

(and yes while I realize I can do this in my lore in XIV let's be honest if I gave Mathye a libram he would be fucking unstoppable so you know what let's NOT.)

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight-- become the enemy

It took a week to bury all the bodies found in the underground laboratory. The argument had been made to try and keep them from being interred as long as possible, so that loved ones could identify the remains--but it soon became very clear that such a feat would strain the limited resources of the Ala Mhigans--and of the Eorzean Alliance.

So with as much rite and ritual as possible, the bodies of the dead were interred. And while it wasn't possible to keep to full mourning--as there were many still celebrating the nation's freedom, it was decided that there would be a week of gravesite rites, to ensure that the dead were sent to the afterlife peacefully.

It was Reinhardt's turn to perform a rite. As he and the others had been the ones responsible for killing Zenos--and Aulus, Arenvald had suggested that they take turns performing rituals at the graveyard. Today the dragoon had brought liquor to offer as a libation, and was quietly pouring it out at the altar that had been set up.

"You have my thanks for doing this." Reinhardt glanced behind him, and Arenvald nodded to the liquor bottle.

"There's probably quite a few spirits pleased by that."

"Rule of thumb on the patrol-strings was that you gave your best at the shrines." Reinhardt answered. Bottle now empty, he recapped it and put it away in the bag he'd brought it in.

"Considering we're all big damn heroes now, I can't stint on offerings. That would just be rude." Exhaling, he glanced at the graves--and then at Arenvald.

"What the fuck was this?" He breathed.

It was a question that wasn't exclusive to just him. It was on Riven's mind. Augustine's mind. Mathye, Sebastian, Zoissette--if Alice was around Reinhardt knew it would have been in her thoughts too. And the question wasn't exclusive only to them, their Eikons had it as well. Arenvald looked away from the dragoon, shaking his head.

"I...I wish I knew." He answered. "I wish I knew what to tell you. The Garleans were taking up everyone and anyone with aetherical ability...and there were rumors of experiments, but this..." The blond highlander trailed off. Early reports had it that the people in the laboratory had been used to make Zenos become the Dominant of Shinryu. Just how it had been done however, nobody knew. And quite frankly, Arenvald wasn't too sure if anyone wanted to know.

"Something's not right someplace." He said. "In fact, I'm starting to wonder if maybe the Empire's...changed it's stance on magic, and we're just only now finding out."

"Changed it's stance?!" Reinhardt exclaimed. "That's...that's something we would have heard about!"

"I know. Which makes this strange." Arenvald lifted a hand to his chin, thinking. "I doubt this was hidden from Varis, not with all the resources and the money that was possibly involved. And while I'm not a scientist, some things in that room looked as if they'd been worked on from back when Gaius was the viceroy. So whatever's been happening, it's been going on for a while--with the blessing of the imperial family. Which means not only Varis knew about this--"

"Solus." Reinhardt said. His mind raced with the implications, and he could faintly hear Zurvan humming in thought. "You're right. It doesn't make sense. Why order an extermination mandate on Dominants and Eikons if you're studying how to create your own?"

Getting rid of competition. Zurvan rumbled. Anyone who could fight back. Or possibly preparing to encounter even more powerful Eikons that their technology can't fight against.

"Maybe it's the fact that we put them in a corner." Arenvald's musing jolted Reinhardt out of the daze he'd been in. "They could have been doing their experiments--but when it became clear that you and the others could stand against them--not to mention the Ironworks throwing a literal wrench in whatever technology they could bring to bear..."

"If you can't beat them, join them." Reinhardt finished. It made a sick sort of sense when he thought about it. Zoissette was a living example of an artificially made Dominant, as was Estinien. There had been years of information from Site Sixteen. And everyone knew that the best way to fight an Eikon...was with another Eikon.

It brings up another question. Zurvan whispered. If they were doing such things here...then what are they doing in Garlemald? This cannot be an isolated incident.

"No." Reinhardt murmured. "It can't."

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

off on the wrong foot (noticed)

"There we go." Mathye finished wrapping a colorful bandage around the young girl's arm. Around his neck Hrist made another face, resulting in another outburst of giggles from the youngster. With a wink she vanished from view, and Mathye made sure the cloth was secured.

"It looked worse than it actually was." He said, looking towards the anxious father that was looming next to the table. "There'll be some itching while the wound heals, I'll give you some salve for it." The researcher sagged in relief, and Mathye turned his attention to his patient.

"Listen to your father, hmm?" He said, squatting down so he was at eye level with the little girl, who nodded.

"I wanted to see the toy boat." She said, starting to rock from side to side. Mathye reached into a pocket and withdrew a lollipop, presenting it with a flourish. The girl giggled and took it.

"What do I owe--"

"Just make sure shoelaces are tied." Mathye interjected, rising. His current patient had tripped and fallen down, resulting in a nasty scrape on one arm. Fortunately Mathye had been nearby to hear her screams of pain and had quickly offered assistance. The researcher nodded again, reaching out to pick up his daughter.

"Thank you, Healer Bishop." He said feverently. "Cecily, what do we say to the nice healer?"

"Thank you." Cecily parroted. Mathye smiled, offering a small wave. As the pair left he exhaled, reaching back into his pocket. He'd used his own energy to heal Cecily's injury--the mite had been scared enough as it was from all the blood. Adding in the toll of having the hurt magically tended to would have made it worse. Withdrawing a gumdrop, Mathye unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth. The sugar would keep him going until he took a lunch--which he would have to do today thanks to the escapade. Sensing a pair of eyes on him, Mathye turned around. Margrat was nearby...staring.

"...What the fuck do you want?"

He actually had been acting like a human being. He'd been nothing but attentive to the little girl--and Margrat noticed that Mathye hadn't used her energy to help fuel her body's healing. His voice had been kind, he hadn't been cursing, and he'd even had child-pleasing bandage wrappings in his kit. It was if a total stranger had been before her.

He'd even been smiling, and when Mathye Bishop smiled, he became handsome...

"What the fuck do you want?"

And now he was the utter bastard again. Aware that she was gaping, Margrat attempted to regain her bearings.

"I thought you would gobble up small children." She snapped. "You don't seem the type to be...". Mathye's eyes narrowed.

"Be what?"

"Nice." Margrat finshed.

"Don't you have a deadline to scream and flutter your hands about, you harpy?"

"I heard screaming and came to help, you utter prig of a man!"

"It's been taken care of! Go away! Shoo!" Mathye snapped, flapping his hands about in the air for emphasis. Margrat bristled, getting ready to fire a rejoiner back. But...

His hands certainly had been very quick. And deft. They looked like workingman's hands, but she'd noticed that they were always clean, the fingernails manicured and neatly trimmed. And they certainly looked quite solid...

Oh no.

No. No. Absolutely not. She was not looking at his hands-! She was not looking at his hands, no no, such a bad idea--

"Is there any fucking reason why you're fucking staring at me now?"

Oh Rhalgr. She needed to leave. Now. Take the rest of the day off. Perhaps drink heavily. Maybe slam her head into one of the Hamlet's stone walls until sanity prevailed. Margrat turned on a heel and quickly fled, praying to the gods that she wasn't blushing--and cursing over her brain's sudden and abrupt hyperfixation. Behind her, Mathye blinked owlishly.

"What the hell was that about?" He commented out loud to nobody in particular.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

mobility

(more of Mathye and the leg. I've tried my best with the description of the wheelchair.)

-------

"Alright--are you in the chair yet?"

"My ass has yet to touch the cushion, Augustine. Lower me down!"

"I'm trying to be careful of your socket!"

"Just let go of him, he'll live." Nero snarked. Augustine shot the Garlean a dirty look, and carefully helped Mathye settle into the new wheelchair seat. Letting go, he stepped back as Mathye gripped the metal handrims, adjusting his seat.

"Fuck me, when you said the seat was small, I wasn't expecting this!" Nero had come to Ishgard bearing a gift, a new type of wheelchair that had been in the testing phase before Varis' death. The seat was a full coverage cushion with a chair back that was just basically support for Mathye's lumbar spine. The wheels were rubber--the same kind as what was on Sebastian's bike, and had hand rims that allowed Mathye to propel himself around.

"Is it comfortable?" Augustine asked.

"My ass and lower back certainly like the support." Experimentally, Mathye started to push himself forward. The whole rig felt lighter than his old chair, but it still felt like he was going to get a good workout from controlling the wheels.

"I had the builders include a few strips of spell-metal so whatever magic you need to help it get up and down the steps around here can be added." Nero cast a wary eye on the bandages around the 'stump' of Mathye's right thigh, the lights of Mathye's socket could occasionally be spotted through the linen.

"You're not the one getting to fully break that in, however. Garlond is delivering one to someone named Arenvald?" Nero was rewarded with a grin from Augustine and the faintest hint of a smile from Mathye.

"That's good." The medic murmured. "He needed a better chair."

"He'll be able to be more active too, and that'll make him happy." Augustine added. Mathye wheeled himself over to his brother.

"I want to go outside. If I have to stay indoors any longer I'm going to start killing people. Tell Riven to come over and enchant this."

"Whatever happened to the word 'please', Bishop?" Nero snarked, coming over and squatting down next to one of the wheels, the better to examine the gears.

"He doesn't have it in his vocabulary." Augustine replied, taking out his tomestone. Sebastian had been able to jury-rig the ones they all owned to send brief messages--provided that everyone more or less was in the same area. The last he'd checked, Riven had just been waking up. Mathye poked him.

"Faster."

"Take him outside so he can get tired and pass out so I can work in peace." Nero took out a small wrench, he knew that gear had looked out of place. "Don't go to the lower city, you're not in good enough shape yet to wrangle yourself around all the construction." Mathye poked Augustine again.

"Faster."

"Poke me again and I'm dunking you in the fountain."

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight--briefing

Augustine sighed. Then he shifted his weight, surprising Mathye by resting his forehead against the other man's own.

"Mat. I'm fine. A little banged up, and Halone's a bit tetchy, but I'm fine." He said, gazing into his older brother's eyes. "If anything, I'm just relieved that you and the others are okay. It was hell not warning you--and knowing that I was playing right into that bastard's hands by doing so." Mathye's shoulders sagged, and he closed his eyes.

"Sorry." He muttered. Augustine smiled, and Mathye reached around to gently cradle the back of his little brother's head. A faint smile crossed his features.

"How sweet." Sebastian commented dryly, then smirked as he was given a simultaneous rude gesture by both brothers. Riven chuckled, and Reinhardt snorted.

"You said you knew about this Gage?" He asked, looking to Alice. The Dalmascan Dominant nodded.

"He was the second-most powerful Eikon-hunter in Ilsabard." She began. "Though technically with Gaius' defeat, he's now in the number one position. Between the two of them, they're the reason why our kind--hells, all magic-users in general--are a rare species up north. Not helping your cause, he was also van Baelsar's apprentice."

"Great. The student's here to avenge the teacher." Mathye commented.

"More than likely sanctioned by Solus as well." Alice added. "As was van Baelsar." Her tail flicked as the full attention of the Scions' Dominants suddenly fixed on her.

"Wait wait wait! What do you mean Gaius had sanction from the imperial emperor?! They're in the middle of a civil war right now! And Baelsar came here to set himself up as his own ruler, not conquer for the Empire!" Riven exclaimed.

"If it's killing Dominants and eliminating magic, you have the blessing of the Emperor." Agrias' Dominant replied, her voice dark.

"Gaius was still a favorite son of the Empire." Augustine mused. "Nothing stopping Solus from recognizing him as a ruler in his own right--especially if Eorzean resources were offered in trade and magic stamped out." He glanced at Alice, who nodded.

"It also gets competition out of the country." She added. "For Garleans, killing an Eikon is a literal automatic pass to fame, glory, honor, wealth--you name it. However, much of the Eikon-killing's been carried out between van Baelsar and sas Gage. According to some reports, that's made many in the imperial court very unhappy--including Solus' grandson, Varis--and his great-grandson, Zenos."

"What the fuck are we, trophy kills?" Reinhardt exclaimed. He sighed, closing his eyes. "Don't answer that."

"You're not going to like this either, but Gage has yet to kill a powerful Eikon much like ourselves. So not only is he here to avenge his mentor, but also to put some notches on his belt." Alice warned. "His previous targets have been lesser Eikons that called the various countries of Ilsabard home."

"He probably also has support from what remains of Gaius' troops that weren't captured by the Eorzean Alliance or didn't flee back to the Empire." Sebastian added.

"Gage is just as dangerous as Gaius." Alice continued. "A true believer in the Empire and what all it stands for. He's not Garlean born, but they love to show him off as an example of how non-natives can rise in the Empire's society. He's not some monster who kills for the sake of killing. He genuinely believes that he's doing the world a favor by killing us off--that he's showing Dominants mercy."

"I can tell you right now he's not going to hesitate at such niceties as country borders or laws either." Augustine said. "And with what Sebastian said..." He sighed, shaking his head.

"It's more or less another imperial invasion. Only this time the troops are more mobile and will be harder to track down."

----- (starring @matrixdragon 's Alice! and @erickgage 's Erick)

on our fates alight masterpost