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lily-radiance · 3 years ago

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Yandere Vampire separated Yuuji/Sukuna and Werewolf Megumi x Witch Reader

You knew living in this village among mortals was a risk, a risk that had separated you from other supernatural entities. Some had shamed you and demanded you rethink your decision, but you had made your choice final.

Along with yourself, an old friend who just happened to be another born from a dark craft had gone to the village with you. You had always been so close, especially when the thought of being found out terrified you. Not only was there the risk of death by pyre or hanging, but being exiled to the forbidden forest was the last and most threatening outcome.

In a specific section of the forest where the wildlife avoided and no life existed, were two vampires known for their horror. Sometimes the bodies were covered in bite marks and ripped from limb to limb. Other times only bones remained, representing the carnage.

They too had been banished years prior, but the fear of their return always haunted the village. You, unbeknownst to the villagers had been using certain protective spells and items to ward off any threats. Sometimes you would have to venture to the outskirts of the village at dusk to lay these tokens, a chill always at your spine.

Sometimes you would hear whispers flying in the wind, voices mixing in a sea of malice.

"So we have a witch in our midst? Unfortunately for you those trinkets won't hold for long...."

You chose to ignore the voice, concentrating on the spell in your mind.

"I summon thee to go, release your hold and set them free-I command a field of light, to wrap us in a barrier tonight."

The sound of leafs rustling made you look up, but you could see nothing but a pitch black shade stretching throughout the entire woods.

"(y/n), we should go back now. The villagers will know something's wrong."

Your friend seemed to notice your silence as you continued to stare beyond the makeshift barrier.

He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, making you turn quickly.

"I'll patrol the area when you get back to the village, those bloodsuckers hate wolves and they'll never see me coming."

You merely nod, well aware that by staying outside at this hour you are at risk.

"Fine but don't let the villagers see you, as much as they hate vampires, they hate wolves. Remember the shepherd and his sheep?"

He rolls his eyes at the remark and proceeds to walk with you towards the circle of houses in the distance. When you get close enough to the torch-lit entryway, Megumi gives a nod and retreats back to the shadows.

It's odd as you walk towards your own cottage, the small building seeming even emptier than the night before. Typically your friend would sleep and guard all the entrances, making sure that nothing was out to get his little prey.

Yet as you walked towards your front porch the villagers seemed to stare at you in vigilance. Their eyes never left you as they glared and whispered in suspicion. It was easy to understand why they feared a newcomer like you, especially when at the strange hours of nightfall you sneaked to the woods carrying baskets and salts. You always said the same story, that it was to scare off beasts who hated strong smells, but it was falling apart.

Once inside your home you could finally breathe in peace. Your home was covered in spell books and candles that dripped wax along the floorboards. The sound of flames licking at the fireplace and the wooden logs crackling apart was loud from even the front door.

Of course you knew this wasn't the best thing to continue to do while being a suspect but it was the easiest way to be efficient in studying and utilizing witchcraft. If you ever truly needed to hide the evidence of spellcasting, the furnace and a secret cupboard were the best hiding places.

If you ever were to destroy the ancient literature forever, all you needed to do was look towards the ceiling for incantations written in chalk and ink.

"Organize yourself at once house, before our secrets are revealed in one great big ounce!"

Your house seemed to sigh as the fireplace let out a puff of smoke, and the doors slammed in annoyance.

"Im asking you to do me one tiny favor! I clean and protect you everyday, the least you can do is reciprocate!"

The fireplace puffs again but this time the books and candles begin to float before rearranging themselves in a tidy order. The books tuck themselves in cabinets and behind bricks, some even going in gaps of the floorboards and creating a colorful walkway to the stairway.

"That's more like it house! Now if anyone comes by I need you to play it easy and calm. Megumi is on patrol which means you're working double duty in protection and staying a low profile."

When you feel you have reached common ground with your house, you begin to head to bed. With every footstep the boards creak and groan, making you aware that any presence in your house would be well-known.

Even as you lay underneath your covers, trying to use a new relaxation spell, nothing seems to settle your nerves. You can only imagine that voice from the woods, low and vicious in your ear. You can feel your stomach begin to turn as the covers feel claustrophobic and unrelenting.

You can visualize the crimson eyes watching you from the darkness, stalking you since you came to the village in need, weak and exhausted from the long journey. You remembered the rumours that circulated among the townspeople about the two monsters surrounding the village outskirts.

"That wolf can't protect you from me forever, lovely, and neither can those blankets."

That voice seems to be compounded of venom as it hisses against your ear, warm and inviting. You're still lost in the fog of sleep as claws drag along your jugular.

These claws aren't threatening to cut or slice but rather to announce their owner's presence. The plan works as your eyes flutter open in a haze, searching for the source of that chilling voice.

You find yourself sitting up abruptly, pulling the blankets around your shaking form as the shadows in your room seemed to move.

"Who's there!? Show yourself now!"

The wind seems to only laugh at you, that voice nothing but a whisper.

"Witch's blood could give us a longer lifespan, make us stronger-"

"You don't need it, Sukuna! You just want her body!"

"And you don't!? Sorry little brother but she's mine, maybe I'll let you taste her when I'm finished."

As you rush out of bed to head downstairs, fear is filling you to the brim. Why didn't your house alert you of the intruders? Why was your house completely dark with one candle alight?

"Megumi, where are you? They're here, I need you!"

You weren't thinking as you rushed outside the house, muttering curses and hexes under your breath as the cold air hit you. Outside were a group of villagers, glaring and conspiring against you once more.

"Witch! Witch! Get the witch and restrain her!"

"Grab the holy water and the sage!"

"Burn her house!"

You hadn't noticed the animosity forming over the last few months but sure enough it was there. These people you'd once considered friends were now thinking of nothing but your demise.

"Unhand me at once you foolish people! There are vampires here, and they're going to attack soon! Please get some sense!"

Some of them seemed frightened at these words while others began to talk.

"Quiet you wretched monster! We banished those vermin ages ago along with your kind! When we kill you it'll be the end of it all!"

You'd begun to wriggle in their hold, trying to pry yourself away long enough to conjure a spell.

You could see those dark eyes watching in the crowd, surveiling the commotion. You wanted to call his name but the realization that you would be exposing him dawned on you.

Somewhere amidst the struggle you were just a couple inches away as the townspeople continued to pull you down.

He threw something in the air, at first perplexing you but then clarity reached you as you grasped the metal tube before it hit the ground. Luckily for you the villagers seemed not to notice as they kept dragging you back.

"Release me at once - immoral pigs!",you shouted as hands pushed you to the soil.

"Gag her, make sure her serpent tongue doesn't speak more poison into our souls!"

You looked around in a hurry, trying your best to look for your friend. He had disappeared, at least that's what you thought, unaware that he was stalking you in his canine form beneath the shadows.

He had no intention to help you escape this situation, creating plans in his head of how he could persuade and trick you later on. He could navigate that forest like no one else, the different paths clear in his mind's eye.

"Throw her on the pyre!"

"Down the well!"

"Drown her in the river!"

"Feed her to the wolves!"

You could hear these unrelenting voices intermingling and petrifying you. Magic had always been viewed as evil, for the most part by mortals, but you didn't mind so much. You used to take for granted the mobs and groups of witches that would allow you to travel along with them. You would scold them for their demeaning views and the judgement they had shared, but were they wrong? Was this just a bad batch of people? Was there a single mortal that did not despise witches? Ghosts? Werewolves? Vampires?

Vampires.

Yes you had forgotten the fear that circulated throughout your heart just moments prior. The age old stories of those cruel devils who would feast their fangs on anyone in proximity. As much as you defended the other supernatural entities you had known, vampires were the biggest exception.

"I've got a perfect idea for the wench! Feed her to the vampires for a promise not to attack the village!"

You turned towards the speaker, mortified and sick to your stomach as everything was coming into motion.

"What if their allies? It would be a big risk for us!"

"Look at her! If they were allies don't you think they'd save her by now? Either we kill her and risk ourselves or we let the witch go and get on their good graces!?"

Soon enough the plan was in action as you were being pushed to the outskirts of the village by violent hands. You tried to remember various tunnels or rivers that ran just outside of the forest, just to get an idea of a possible escape route.

"Give me her arm and that blade!", One of them shouted.

You tried to wriggle away but were inevitably pushed against a tree trunk and cut by the blacksmith's blade. It was a couple inches long and not very deep but any cut that drew blood was enough to warrant paranoia.

"Now we'll drop her off in the center stump, directly by the great oak tree. Quick, blindfold her!"

Left with nothing but your sense of hearing, touch and sense of smell you were beginning to wither and curl in worry. You tried to drag your feet or drop to your knees but nothing would sway the townspeople. Even if you ran, you would only fulfill their nasty incentives.

"Hear us beasts that haunt these woods, come to us and hear our plea!"

At first you wanted to scoff at the idea that the two strongest beasts nearby would actually agree to these lowly scum. Then it dawned on you that anything could be arranged if the villagers thought it was free. Of course that didn't mean the vampires would actually spare the villagers.

"A plea, oh my you are serious, and who am I to deny the lambs who want to be slaughtered?"

You slid your feet backwards, trying to ease your burdened breathing. You were promptly pulled by your collar and glued to the spot. Along with pulling your collar, the blindfold was removed.

"We brought a peace offering, a pure-blood witch and all her blood, but only if you and your brother agree to let us gain a section of these woods. We want the promise that no harm will come to us who pass through our designated area."

Sukuna couldn't help but let out a laugh,amused that those he considered food would go against him.

"You are mortals, disgusting vermin that steal and populate the realm with no consciousness of the harm you deliberately cause. Your designated area is that sad circle of sheds and tombstones, and that is being generous. You don't see that you are surrounded by those who would happily shred your skin and devour your heart."

He continued his lecture as he walked around the circle of villagers like they were ants. His eyes,red and illuminated in the night, gazed at you.

"There you are, right like I said you'd be. No spells can save you witch, but you can try," he looked at the man restraining you as he inches closer.

"Remove her restraints and let her go, she'd hardly be any fun if I ate her right here."

The man followed the command quickly, wanting to save his own life. Although he couldn't have known that the second his job was done that his throat would be slit with those claws.

The color, as sick as it made you feel, complimented him perfectly. The red seemed to match his eyes, bright against the foggy terrain. The rest of the townspeople were quick to catch on, stepping away from you like the plague. No plague could be worse than this, unstoppable fear and torment.

"I haven't seen a witch in a very long time, not since they migrated out of the area. Too bad for both of us, yeah? So consider yourself like a fine ale, or something else rare. I almost feel guilty, but we both know I'm far better than that."

The mortals seemed to drop like flies, first the oldest, then the middle-aged, the young adults and it kept going. You could see a group of small children not too far away, but once again he followed your eyes.

"Do not hurt them, please. You want my blood not theirs! Just let them go!"

You had moved to stand in front of the youngsters, well aware that they were just as afraid of you as you were the vampire. They knew you were a witch, everything they'd been taught to fear, but they recalled the way you helped them with the chicken coop, the way you helped the occasional child stuck in a tree or even the time you watched over the gardens when they were too tired to work in the harsh winters.

"I can hex you if you so much as take a step closer, I've been practicing. I could melt your ribcage, or turn your stomach to stone."

He wasn't taking you for a fool, knowing he could be exposed to your potent witchcraft. He could see your hand holding onto something silver. A vial? A charm? What were you plotting? Were you bluffing?

"Tell me has witchcraft changed in the last century? Or do you still praise the devil and despise fire? That mention of burning on a pyre seemed to rattle you quite a but maybe I'm just assuming things? Your home wasn't so welcoming, but I think that was the point. Barely escaped from that spell of yours, and for once I'll say my brother was better prepared."

The children seeing an open opportunity to escape began to step away from you. Both you and him could hear the small crunches of leafs and the rapid breathing escaping their small bodies.

"I'm afraid my house might have been a mess, I wasn't exactly expecting company, at least from you two. Maybe I should have put more garlic around the entryway...."

You would have kept going on with your banter, unaware that the younger of the two siblings was right behind you. You could have sworn you didn't hear a sound, that no one else was there, but that was disproved by the firm arms snaking around you from your back.

"You were saying (y/n)? Sorry Ryo I got a little held up on my way here. I took the long route to look for any wolves, but it seems they're not around right now."

Energetic and optimistic was the total opposite of what you had in mind when imagining the second brother. He couldn't have been much shorter than his older sibling but the difference was evident enough when you felt him holding you.

"You were supposed to help me clean up the mess sooner. You could have been a lot quicker-looking for those mangy beasts....."

Out of instinct you closed your eyes and hoped for a spell to appear in your mind, or for any train of thought to whisk you away from this nightmare.

"Sukuna did you scare her or something!? You were supposed to just watch her and stay close by, not terrify her to death! You know at this rate I thought you'd have gotten farther from the village by now, especially with the wolves hideout nearby."

You felt a small sensation of hope begin to form in your chest. If the wolves were nearby then maybe you wouldn't be such easy prey.

"So you guys do hate wolves? I thought that was an urban legend so you guys could freak out the villagers."

Yuuji wasn't exactly thinking on the terms of appeasing his brother, so it came easily for him to drop information.

"Well it started as a rivalry and apparently some folks found a couple of wolves defending territory and rumour spread pretty fast. Sukuna hates wolves more than I do for sure, but he's not entirely wrong either. The wolves have been around just as long as we have, vampires I mean. The wolves think they were first, and we've been around for centuries so it never occurred to really question it."

Sukuna could feel his patience thinning as his sibling explained rather private information. Yuuji wasn't an idiot, but he certainly wasn't too cautious when it came to people inside the supernatural circle.

"Don't play with your food,Yuuji, it's not the time or the place. You can goof around when we aren't surrounded by those dogs."

"Well apparently you aren't surrounded right? Yuuji just said that they aren't nearby anyway and I'm sure if they were close, you could both handle yourselves."

Both brothers continued to think on the matter, Yuuji slowly relaxing his grip into a soft embrace. You had to remember that his fangs were right against your neck, ready to pierce the flesh at any moment under his brother's command.

"Yuuji watch her and do not go anywhere, I mean it. I'm going to patrol so we don't get any unwelcome visitors."

You felt yourself let out a sigh as you allowed the tension in your shoulders to disperse.

"You know your brother is quite scary? I'm not sure I could do much against him..."

"Well for now you can relax because unlike him I'm not trying to hurt you, not much. He picks on me for having a conversation with you and slaughters a mob for fun. I'd call him a hypocrite but if he heard that I think he'd starve me if blood for a month."

You tried to shrink away from his hold but it seemed no matter your attempts he was right there. At least your tactics of deception seemed good for the time being.

"Although I don't think he could blame me for wanting to take a bite out of you. You wouldn't feel a ounce of pain, but I can't say you wouldn't get dizzy. Some people faint after just imagining blood loss, but I think you'd be fine. You're a witch after all, you can hold up can't you?"

These questions and conversations were getting harder to get through, each more fearsome than the last.

"Would that turn me? Or would it kill me? I mean can't you drink dead blood? Like animals or your own?"

He seemed to find your cluelessness cute, trying to answer the question without laughing.

"No, not that easily. You would have to be bitten, die and drink a pure vampire's blood. And to continue yes we can drink small amounts of dead blood but too much makes us really sick. Imagine if you ate rotten food and then tried to run on only that food. And if I'm being honest with you love, I don't think Sukuna wants you dead."

He'd tilted your chin upwards, allowing your throat to be angled towards him. Was he playing with you once more? Or was he promising something else?

"You were the one in my bed? That wasn't a delusion?", You felt a wave of panic and embarrassment swim through your veins.

"Oh well I guess you caught me. I wasn't trying to wake you, but you looked so beautiful all exposed like that. Yeah it's unfortunate to admit but we have been checking in on you from time to time, making sure our witch wasn't straying too far. Sukuna wanted to turn you initially, but if course you ran out and I had to convince him not to."

His fangs had pressed against the flesh, searching for the perfect place to puncture the area. You could feel chills wracking up and down your body, dangerous thoughts whispering.

"Unless you would like to be one of us? Become an even more powerful creature of the night? I could turn you myself, if you let me."

His breaths were warm against your skin, the only warmth in the cold night.

"Yuuji?"

"Yes love? Do you want me to be the one to turn you?"

You could still feel the metallic material in the palm of your hand, an idea coming back to you. These vampires seemed rather vain and selfish, so could you fool them?

"Kiss me first? So I know your lips belong against me?"

Maybe he knew you were lying? Maybe your racing heart was a dead giveaway? Maybe he was tricking you from the start?

It didn't seem to matter as his lips made contact with your own, hungry for any taste of you. The unfamiliar feeling of his lips slotting perfectly against you.

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Would you be able to further your plots? Or would they continue to toy with you?

Cliffhanger I know sorry but this will be the first section of this story. This post will be edited when part two is written below the cut. Think of this as a temporary test to see how this part goes? Or maybe you're just scrolling on the dashboard? Anyway thank you for reading and I hope to see you again on this post!

Part 1 published: 04/19/22

#reader insert #female reader #anime #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #x reader #yandere x reader #vampire #horror

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scribeofmorpheus · 4 years ago

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Himmeløyne [22/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N: I have started my first original gothic story (it'll be much darker than this fic but can I offer you werewolves, vampires, 1970s Europe aesthetic as an incentive?). It's on Wattpad and I intend to update it every Wednesday, but I never stick to update schedules so... Here ya go: OUR LADY OF DARKNESS

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

The end of the abyss—that frightful stream of continuous fall and forceful uplift—it finally had an end. It was a large door. Smell of rain and storms, with the slick glisten of wet rock hugging the archway. A dark type of stone, jagged and natural, the door seemed to be carved into the side of a mountain. But the mirage ended where the rock began, there were no walls. No infrastructure. Just the green of the mirror world and two hunkering doors. The archway was carved in the shape of a snake; same as the kind that embellished the rigging of ships, tongue curled, eyes made of rings within rings.

A sequence of lettering—foreign, yet oh, so familiar—hovered in the mist, your mind scrambling to make sense of the words.

“Oracle, what is this place?”

The whisper was quiet, for a brief moment you worried that you were truly on your own in this stretch of emptiness.

I sense… something has been concealed from me. Its magic is fevered, dusted in loss. Pain. Desire. It is out of place. Out of time. The conjurer’s magic has the same energy as yours, only… stronger.

“Stronger?” You shuddered at the thought. After a pause, you asked: “You don’t see the door?”

Door? What door?

“What of the letters?”

I—No, I see nothing. Describe it to me.

“There’s a serpent on the door.”

A serpent? Does he eat his tail?

“No, his head marks the start of the archway, but his mouth is facing the ground.”

Then it is incomplete. An incantation must be needed to complete the image. What of the lettering?

“These letters, they’re different than common tongue or Asgardian runes. They aren’t Jotun either. They look… I don’t know. They look so familiar.”

Reach for them.

“What?”

Familiar magic has a tendency to want to be understood, that is why it feels familiar. Touch it.

You stuck your hand up, jumping on your tippy-toes to try and grab the incorporeal words floating above your head. In defiance, they simply rose higher up, further out of reach.

Do not reach with your body, Child of the Sky. Reach with your magic.

With an exhale, you stuck both hands high up in the air, conjuring the bristle of energy that raced across your spine during spellcasting. Remembering through muscle and memory of what it was like to be in control of your magic. Of what it was like to revel in its deliciousness, its wildness, its link to Loki. A swirl of warmth took shelter in your belly, that warmth you’d grown to love before it was ripped from you and replaced by the cold of Odin’s incantation.

Suddenly, the words began to sink, lowering themselves like feathers, at first, then with the heft of an arrow, and finally, a stone.

With a crash, the words burst into fire and embers, each ember digging into your skin in a sensory overload that formed echoes in the mist.

A version of you,—the shade whose voice you heard in the abyss—older, magic glowing a different hue of blue, in strange clothing, stood by the door. You were witnessing the construction of the doorway. Every splinter, fibre, rock and sand particle materialised as though you were undoing the wroth of a sandstorm to make way for a rock giant. A woman, with firebrand hair and soft features, stood beside you, she looked drained, weary. She had magic too, it was the colour of blood. The colour of fire. It flickered in and out around her body, as if fighting to take over.

There was a young boy clasping onto the shade’s hand. Aloof in expression, a scaly growth the colour of white sands on his elbows, ankles, neck and cheeks. He was a beautiful child, hair as soft as down, curls that fluffed in a way you could never get yours too. Eyes of a pure and deep blue. Ocean surface during a thunderstorm blue.

He looked at the shade the same way little Sigrid had when she’d waved her plump, little hand goodbye before following after the hunters. It made you yearn for something so pure with a fierce heart.

“There, that should do it,” the shade said as the door materialised from thin air. “Now, we need a seal so no one who wanders can know of this place.”

“Is this absolutely necessary?” the woman asked, hugging her frame as if she were cold.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but this is the only way I know for certain that what we’re doing now happens.” The shade’s voice felt dark, wizened in years, the same way Frigga spoke of grave matters. “This fortress is the only way he survived in my time. If we can’t change things, as the sorcerer said, then the least we can do is ensure things continue on their set path.”

“He’ll be trapped… for who knows how long? Centuries? Millennia? He’s just a boy.”

“He’s more than that,” the shade got down on one knee to look at the boy. From that angle, you could see the mangled, L shaped scars over each of her shoulder blades. They resembled the scars birds would suffer when their wings were ripped for medicines. “This is the only way he stays safe. I’ve already cemented the other enchantments. Time will not be felt here. He will not feel sadness or regret or the bitterness of solitude. He will sleep, as I once did, except… he will not be aware. And he will dream of only happy things. Then, when the time comes, I will jump. I’ll take him back with me.”

The firebrand woman showed doubt for the first time, “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve already done it.” The shade touched the other magic bearer’s shoulder, a comradery there. A closeness built from time and triumph, much like that kindred fire you shared with Sif. “Now, a phrase. A word. Anything to bind this lock to. Something unique.”

“Why don’t you choose it?” “Because I know myself. It has to be something I’d never choose so that she never knows it, and no mind reader can ever guess it should they stumble upon this place.”

“Vision,” the woman’s lips quivered with loss, but there was a bloom of hope in the tweak of her lips as your shade repeated the word.

The biting of the magic ended, and suddenly, you were alone again.

What happened? Child of the Sky? Are you there?

“I’m right here, Oracle,” you choked out, a tightness in your throat.

You were gone. One instant here, the next… nowhere. Somewhere. Between.

“I know how to open the door,” you took several steps back and then cleared your throat. With conviction and authority, you calmly said: “Vision.”

What did the magic reveal to you?

Your head was spinning from the fabrics of this mirror universe being so amateurishly tailored, so lacking in its design and purpose. The more you discovered, the more you began to doubt if this world was ancient; or if it was barely into its adolescence. “I do not quite understand it, yet. You said you were imprisoned here?”

Yes. I have been without body or memory for as long as I can remember.

The snake on the door began to slither till its mouth was at the top, and its tail was tucked firmly in its jaws. Then its eyes glowed the same colour as the child’s, thunderstorm blue. With a groan and a strike of something loud, the door peeled back. Beyond its threshold was a mutation of worlds, all collided in exquisite syzygy; aligned, misaligned, human, Asgardian, Jotun, and even the liquid blackness of space with pepper spots for stars.

“And how long ago was that?”

I—I do not… Centuries? Millennia? Aeons?

To busy your mind of doubt and fear as you stepped past the threshold and heard the door seal shut behind you, you toyed with the idea of understanding more of this world. “You said you could hear the beginning of your name… What was it?”

The whisper grew soft, warm. It sounded like ‘see’. Or was it the sea? Sea? Sea. Sea!

A garden shifted into the plane, then with a breath, a lake, then a cave, then a temple, then a waterfall, then a tower made of metal and glass. The world wasn’t fixed to a temporal setting, nor a specific location in space. It was like watching fire tell a story; brief, bright and constant.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

At the epicentre, laying on a stone tablet with a curtain of gold—that same curtain from the healing chamber—wrapped around like a fleece, was the child. Unaged. Beautiful. Asleep. He had no scaly growths like in the visions.

You took your steps with trepidation. Almost afraid to make a whisper even though the Oracle chanted ‘Sea!’ over and over. Its voice morphing into the very faint intones of a voice you knew all too well.

The world began to peel away the closer you got to the child. A presence was syphoning the magic, transmuting it for another purpose. A purpose that you now realised was meant to happen. Soon, a figure of pure light, with large wings of utmost magnificence, formed from the siphoned magics of the world. The Oracle was gaining form. The fleece turned grey and the boy began to stir. The magic of the sleep spell was broken.

You approached him slowly. Hands seeking out his aura. Then, in the most silver of voices you’d ever heard, he said, “You came. You said you’d come.” A smile of familiarity adorned his freckled laugh lines.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“Do you know me?”

He nodded.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“How?”

“From now.”

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“What’s your name?”

He seemed confused. Reeling back from the line you’d cast him for with that question. Bait in hook, he fished in the muddy waters that were your consciousness. You could feel his magic, abrasive as sand between toes, cool and wet, but also warm and sea-salt thick. He replied, “You haven’t given it to me yet. But you will return hers to her.”

He pointed to the Oracle’s figure, pulsating into a more corporeal form. The boy opened his hand and you knew instantly what he needed you to do before you thought to ask. A reflex. His magic extended to yours, carrying thought, and the very genesis of thought in its energy. You placed your face close so his hand could cover the cavity where your eye used to be.

Sugar. Berries picked from the wild thickets. A prick into padded thumb. Ooze of blood. A slight sting, then a scab and finally nothing, no marks, no evidence of the thorn in your thumb. He was projecting images of what he envisioned as he healed you. What the berries would taste like; apples. “You can open your eyes now. It was gold when we met. I kept it the same.”

Feeling no different than before, you opened both eyes for the first time since you stepped into Verdenspeil. With a tickle, the runes drawn on your hand and forehead sloughed off like skin cells. You could see the world without them. You could see through both eyes again. The shifting world shifted to a hexagon of mirrors. One, the sky shifting blue of your mother, the other, the ancient, world piercing gold of your father, your face held two eyes again.

“It’s… beautiful,” you looked down at the boy with your eyes. He showed teeth with his grin, pleased with himself. Pleased with your laugh of awe. “There was a boy in my village. Half as beautiful as you are. Half as joyful, with a smile and constellations marking his nose and cheeks too. He showed me kindness. His name was Baldrick. I shall call you Baldrick.”

“Now that you have spoken my name, remind her of who she is,” the boy said, glancing at the Oracle. “You know. You know but cannot believe.”

A gasp left your mouth. A mix of hope and disbelief. With the new eye, you could see the face of the Oracle beneath the light, beneath the enchantment that kept her hidden.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“S-Sigrid.”

The Oracle hushed before exploding into a million, tiny pieces of energy. Out of the explosion was your mother, winged as the Valkyrie from legend, wearing the armour you had seen in the mirror prior to entering Verdenspeil.

“Y/N,” she said, lowering to the ground. Her hand cupped your face. You could barely feel her. “I have waited so long for this moment.”

“Mother,” you hugged her close.

A swirl of black formed once the mirrors of the world broke. Sigrid looked at you with panic.

“Listen, there isn’t time. Take the boy, “Sigrid removed a bracelet and cast it into the black-hole. A portal began to form, leading to what looked like a stone temple. “Take him and jump, it’ll lead you to the one with answers.”

“I don’t understand! Why can’t you come with us? How are you alive?”

“I’m not alive dear, sweet child. But I can promise this isn’t the last you’ll see of me. We will meet again, soon. I promise. But you must go, the world has fulfilled its purpose. There is no reason for it to exist anymore. It has already began to unravel.”

The mist began to turn sour, choking like poison.

You coughed, breathing through your sleeve, “But, as the Oracle, you said I had to take you to the source.”

“You are the source. You and the boy. Your magics are entangled. The maze was a lie, one devised by you. This world isn’t ancient, it is young. A deception. I am the deceiver. My purpose was to ensure none but you found the boy and the portal to Mímir’s tomb. You enchanted this world so all would walk along the lighted paths until they reached a portal that would return them to a random space within the nine realms. You enchanted this world with your memories, so only you could follow them. Hear them.” Sigrid handed you a four-pronged dagger, “Take this you’ll need it.” She kissed your cheek, then her form started unravelling with the world too. Through transference, she gave you her armour, it was lighter than you'd expected, and it fit to cover your proportions through magical effect.

“Why can’t you come with us?” you reached your hand out to Baldrick. He took it with ease.

“I am not meant for the lands of the living,” she lamented. “Go! Before the world takes you with it.”

You rushed to the portal, but before you could step through you asked one last question: “What did you mean by ‘sins of the father’?”

“The war,” Sigrid fluttered her wings to hover in the green mist. “It was a lie. The Jotuns, they didn’t start it. We—the Himmel Kvinner—there’s a reason why only the women in our family inherited the gift. It’s not just power. It’s essence. A woman’s essence. Odin didn’t know we would develop magic from the artefact, but none of us were able to understand the complexity of her spell. Until you. You will discover the reason behind it all. You told me you did. I suspect it is because you are not fully mortal." Bitterly, she added as her body turned to mist as well, "You will bring the heavens to its knees. And your fate is that none shall remember it.”

One of Sigrid’s wings dissipated, she faltered in the air, then shouted: “Go!”

“I love you,” you whispered before hurtling through the undulating expanse of the portal.

“I know…” you heard her whisper back as Verdenspeil was destroyed.

#loki #loki x reader #loki marvel #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson #tom hiddleston #himmeløyne #norse mythology #loki x you #loki x y/n #marvel imagine #loki imagine #tom hiddlestone imagine

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bluejaytaco · 4 years ago

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Some More DND w/ Jay

So last we left off, Mrs. Red was now back in her dragon form and about to wreck our shit. Because we are such low levels and probably couldn’t do any real damage to her as is, the DM had us all level up to 20. And this is how he explained how he did it.

Theodora: (Heard the voice of Bahamut and was granted his power for one last time)

Hennessy and Wreybar: (The powers from Theodora bounced off her to ignite the powers in them)

Koejin: (Sees her god in the far off distance and gets the taste of her favorite liquor on her tongue. He salutes her with a glass and she is infused with power)

Art: (feels a strange tingle from his Ticket Master hand. The mouth on it opens up and he’s engulfed by blackness a la Venom-style. This, apparently, really pisses off Red)

Alabaster: (still has the powers of two gods fighting over him. Pelor and Seraphine are both telling him to choose, but both grant him the abilities)

Greta: (throws both Vincent and Reita in a building behind her. They are out of the battlefield, but still pretty close to Greta)

We start the fight with a little bit of a struggle as all of us learn about our new abilities. At the rounds start, Alabaster moved away from the group to be closer to Red in order to cast a spell. But this put him away from Theodora which (because paladin) gave everyone a 5+ every time we have to save or skill check.

So, when Red went to intimidate everyone, Alabaster was the only one afraid. She swipes at him and he sees that her claws don’t look right. Like she’s decaying.

We all went on to attack her, as expected. Art got a pretty low initiative roll, so I had time to figure out what I was doing. I ended up using black tentacles to restrain her, then gave Wreybar inspiration, because a bard’s gotta buff someone.

Me: Can I also send a message to Reita?

DM: Nah cuz you already did your bonus action. But you can roll for perception. (I rolled pretty well) Okay, so, you can see Vincent and Reita inside the building through the cracked door. Vincent is holding her back and she is watching you, but she looks scared. Like a little kid.

Art: (immediately wants to get over there and to get Greta away from her.)

Red also shouts over at Greta to get off her ass and help. But, before she can even move or finish her “sorry!”, a black mass comes out and engulfs her, trapping her in a black cocoon.

Alabaster tries to cast a spell to protect us all from fire. (smart because, you know, fire dragon.) Pelor, possibly trying to kill us all, changed it to lightning protection. Again, Seraphine sighed and told Alabaster he has to choose.

We go another round where Red hits us with quite a bit of fire. Art automatically gets only half damage due to being a tiefling, but it’s pretty tough on everyone else. (Art then takes to healing everyone because I always end up being a healer at some point lol. Honestly, if I didn’t want something like this to happen, I wouldn’t have become a spellcaster.)

One of Theodora’s moves was pretty much a radiant light on Red which starts to burn her and burn at Art’s tentacles. This burn apparently looks the same. (Tells me Red and Art have quite a bit in common...)

Then Hennessy. Possibly the best move that’ll ever be done.

He freezes time, sets what is essentially a mine near Red’s foot, turns himself into an ancient white dragon, unfreezes time, and blasts Red with ice. She then moves and sets off the bomb which causes even more damage.

(Hennessy at some point made a pun about scales, because dragon. Koejin’s player then said she just stares up at him for a second and walks off the battlefield.)

Red: (looks up at Hennessy in shock) (speaks in draconic) I thought... I was the only one of our kind still alive... How? Why are you here?

Hennessy: (can speak draconic) I’m here to right the wrongs.

Red doesn’t see past it. She sees him as a full dragon and not as Hennessy.

On her next turn, Greta hatches from her cocoon and is now completely engulfed in the black. She stretches as a little top hat appears on her head and makes the horrible Task Master groan.

She then moves to Wreybar and starts to absorb part of her soul into her. This buffs her up a bit.

After seeing this, Alabaster casts Divine Intervention.

(Alabaster’s Player: (describing it as pretty much summoning God.)

Theodora’s player: This sounds pretty badass.

Me: This sounds like a decision.

Alabaster’s Player:... yeah, it is.)

Alabaster: Everyone! I have decided! (Turns around and smiles up) Hiiii!

Seraphine appears as a giant black shadow to everyone but Alabaster and Art (because they’ve met him before) The mass moves to Red, who was knocked prone by this point. Before she can attack, he grabs hold of her tongue and rips it out of her mouth. She is then overtaken by blackness herself and also gets a little top hat. She rears back and looks at everyone with a smile.

Red: Why, hello friends!

We all just kinda stare in shock as Ticket Master Red moves up and stretches.

Ticket Master Red: Ohhh, it’s so nice to be out again!

The dragon eggs we all had then start to hatch and, for a moment, imprint on each of us. But then, Ticket Master tsks and goes “Well, that just won’t do. I’ll be taking them.” All the little baby dragons’ eyes turn black and they fly over to him. They are now his minions.

Alabaster: (shouting up at Ticket Master) Now, I say, Ticket Master! You return my child to me!

(Although he didn’t really react to it, I could see Ticket Master just looking at Alabaster in amusement.)

Task Master Greta: (Sees Ticket Master and immediately tenses) ....no... you can’t be me... I’m me...

Ticket Master Red: Oh no. You see, now you get to know what I felt. (Moves over to Task Master and lifts a paw) It would seem... you are fired. (He slammed his paw down on Task Master, effectively crushing him)

The powers reflecting off of each other cause a rip in the world and a portal opens. It destroys the building that Vincent and Reita are in. For a moment, Vincent tried to keep a grip on Reita but she ultimately gets sucked in, along with Wreybar’s axe. A large black mass that is Ticket Master and Task Master also goes into the portal. (Or, at least, that’s what I gather from it..)

Hennessy, still in dragon form, dives in and circles himself around Vincent to keep him from flying to the portal, like Reita. Wreybar ran in to get her axe, and Art dove in after Reita.

Koejin gets a glimpse of her god, waving her to follow after them. Koejin turns to Theodora and says “Come on!”

When Theodora goes to follow, she is shot back. The portal closes shortly after. Hennessy and Vincent are clinging to each other. Theodora and Alabaster are looking over the field where there is a collapsed Red (Still alive, just unconscious) a most likely dead Greta, and half of the party gone. The feelng is very clear.

Now what?

Meanwhile, the portal opened up and out fall (in this order) Wreybar’s axe, Wreybar, Art, and Koejin. All of them land in a pile with no sign of Reita or the two gods who opened the portal.

Art immediately scrambles to get to his feet and search for Reita only to then notice they’re surrounded by tieflings. Two tieflings push through to see what’s happening. It’s Art’s parents.

Dad: Art? (He runs over and hugs his son) What’s going on?! What happened?!

They’re back in Universe B.

(Context: Universe B was another Acentria we were sent to in order to get Ticket Master’s sword. In this one, we are all Red’s generals and she was actually pretty stable mentally. But the world also seems to be in shambles because of something worse than Red and the city of Calor (Red’s worship grounds; comprised of tieflings) is one of the only safe places. Art’s parents, while heavily abusive in our Acentria, seem to be stable as well and pretty loving. Still, Art’s not gonna know how to handle affection from the same man that used to beat him. Also, abusive dad was torn apart by Reita when they reunited last. So, this is not the world for Reita to be wandering on her own...)

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inspirationdivine · 4 years ago

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Weight of the Word || Lydia and Rio

Timing: Current Parties: @3starsquinn and @inspirationdivine Summary: Lydia and Rio encounter an Aufhocker. Athena’s “Orion no!” senses are definitely tingling. Warnings: very brief abuse mention (Quinn parents)

Lydia hadn’t returned to the park since she’d come across the body with Morgan. In fact, as she stood as the entrance, she shivered as if ice was trickling down her spine. Maybe not the park, no matter how beautiful the sun was. What about a deeper thicket of trees? Where there was a smaller chance of finding a dead corpse because there was a smaller chance of finding anyone, while still getting that fresh summer air. She shoved her hand into her purse, to feel the cool reassuring ivory of her gun’s handle safely tucked in there. Not much help against a warden, but spellcasters died much the same way anyone else did. All the same, even as she walked through the forest, she could feel herself failing to relax, even in the light of nature’s beauty. When she heard some leaves rustle, she almost jumped right out of her glamour, pistol drawn in a moment. “Who’s there?”

Against his better judgement, Orion found himself floating throughout the trees still. He had tried staying away. The incident with the trolls had really done a number on him. One that he still wasn’t sure how to process. People like Winston and Ricky helped. Self defense was a good argument, and life or death made it sound even more reasonable. But he still couldn’t shake that feeling. That what if? If only he could have done something else. But it didn’t matter. The Scribe headquarters meant that a walk through the woods was unavoidable. Plus, he had spent so much of his life walking through the town that he had learned the quickest way around it was through the forest. That didn’t stop his heart from plummeting when he heard the rustling in the woods. He froze on the spot, refusing to even breathe on the off chance that he had run into any danger. He didn’t relax until he heard a woman’s voice and sighed in relief, slowly walking out from behind a tree and speaking loud enough for the woman to hear without trying to sound like he was being intimidating. Not that Rio even knew how to be intimidating. “It’s me. I mean just me. Rio. Rio is me.” Rio introduced himself, realizing that saying that it was him didn’t give much information to the lady, “Don’t worry I’m not here t-” His sentence was cut off when he finally caught side of the woman, gun drawn and pointed directly at him. The panic returned in an instant, and Rio jumped a mile into the sky, both hands raised in surrender and moments away from falling to his knees. “Don’t shoot me please! I’m just a college student. And part time pizza prep guy. And morgue assistant” All of that definitely wasn’t necessary, but he was frazzled. “Please don’t shoot!”

Lydia stared at him, and slowly lowered the pistol between them, gasping deeply like she’d forgotten to breathe when she saw him. She had, her heart had leapt into her throat. “You work with Regan?” She asked, staring at him, and while she held it pointed away from him, she didn’t put it away yet. They weren’t that far- Lydia blinked hard, pushing that thought far away from them. If she needed to, she could get into the trees, she could shoot him dead, and almost no one would hear her run away from the crime scene. Terror like that, though, it was hard to fake. Not that Regan was known for being a people person, or a good read on anything. “My apologies, I do not like to be snuck up on.”

Orion gave the woman a puzzled look. “The doctor?” He questioned here. He suddenly wondered if she was familiar with the doctor in normal, human size or pixie sized. Not that Rio doubted the doctor when she told him that she was not normally inches tall, but he did wonder how long she had been the height she currently was. Even more so, he had no idea what she had to do with the conversation. At least until he realized what he had said as he had failed to stumble through even the simplest of introductions to the stranger. “Oh! Oh. No. I mean, I know her but I don’t work with her. I uh- dead people.” He paused. Jesus Christ. Way to go, Rio. Really comforting way to correct yourself to the woman with a gun. “I mean- uh I misspoke. Sorry. I work at a funeral home. With dead people. I mean I don’t deal with dead people. But I work for Erin, who does.” He sighed, surprised that the woman hadn’t just shot him to put both of them out of their misery. “I’m sorry I just- I don’t like guns. At all. Especially when they’re pointed at me.” She must have realized through the incessant babbling that Rio clearly wasn’t threatening and lowered the gun, much to his own relief. He finally lowered his hands, placing one against his heart and using the other to prop himself a tree instead, taking deep breaths to make up for the oxygen he had lost rambling. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I heard rustling and wanted to make sure no one was hurt or something.” He tried explaining further, making sure not to take any extra steps in her direction to freak her out any further, “You’re uh- not hurt or something right?”

“Dead people?” Lydia repeated, squinting. “Right, I see. You work with Erin.” Not that Lydia knew who Erin was, but he loved to ramble, so she let him, still squeezing her palm around her pistol’s handle. “I don’t think many people like pistols pointed at them,” she agreed. “No, not currently,” Lydia replied, looking over herself to confirm indeed she wasn’t hurt, standing straight and dropping her shoulders. “I was merely frightened by you. Sorry. I think this town is getting to me.” All at once, it was as if she had jinxed it, she heard more rustling of leaves on the forest floor to her right, deeper in the forest. Lydia tensed up, until a little black dog burst out of the leaves and ran up to them with a bright wagging tail, playfully sniffling around them. “Hello little one. Is your owner nearby?” She asked softly, smiling as she crouched to pet the pup.

Orion couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on the gun. Even though he was pretty sure that the woman had no plans to shoot him. Just the thing being on display made his heart beat slam against his chest. It wasn’t that surprising in all honesty, Rio could trace back to the root of his fear of guns. It was the same thing that caused most of his fears. The Quinn parents had really done a number, huh? He shook the thought away, trying to focus on the woman’s words even if he was still eyeing the gun. “Yeah uh- this town has that effect on people. You must be semi new then?” Maybe Rio would never get over his fears, but he had at least come to expect them in a town like this. Growing up in White Crest was trauma enough, especially growing up with supernatural knowledge. “I uh- I didn’t get your name, by the way.” He had introduced himself in a panic, waving around frantically in an attempt to not get shot. But the woman had never shared her own. He was quickly distracted, when another noise could be heard within the trees and Rio leapt inches into the other, hopping away from the rustling but turning towards it. He let out a nervous chuckle when he realized it was just a dog. One that the woman had seemed to take a quicker liking to than she had to Rio. He rubbed at the back of his neck and smiled at the puppy, expecting an owner to be following behind shortly, but Rio couldn’t hear anyone coming from the woods. And he didn’t see a collar either. Was it a stray? Suddenly, the dog leapt into the air, gaining an impressive height before landing on the woman. Rio stumbled forward as quickly as he could to help steady her if needed and make sure she wasn’t knocked down from the dog’s sudden pouncing. “Hey! Oh god are you okay?”

“Lydia,” she replied with a polite yet curt smile. One moment, the puppy had been sweet as syrup, tilting and stretching its little head with its eyes slowly drifting closed as she scratched under its jaw. Lydia shuffled slightly to make sense of it. She didn’t even notice the tiny snap of a twig under her heels. The dog leapt with a deep snarl - deeper than it had any right to be - and sank its claws into Lydia’s coat, ripping right through three thousand dollars worth of material. “Ow!” Lydia yelled, staggering against a tree. She tried to shake it off, all too aware of her wings glamoured away just beneath his claws. “Get it off me! Get it off!”

Either this dog really had some sort of vendetta against Lydia, or this was no dog at all. Orion’s brain began racing, a hundred possibilities running through his head. If this wasn’t a dog, what could it be? And why was it suddenly attacking Lydia? Moments ago, the animal had been happily accepting attention from the woman. Rio grabbed onto the dog, attempting to pull it free from Lydia, but even with Rio’s enhanced strength, he couldn’t get the grip free. More than that, this thing seemed to be getting heavier. Definitely not a dog. Which begged the question: What the heck was this thing? From the looks of it, Rio didn’t have much time to figure out. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god” Rio repeated again and again, letting go of the dog and hopping up and down and frantically thinking about what he could do. “Are you okay? What’s happening?” He needed information. That was the only thing he could do to help. He needed to help her before it was too late.

Lydia squealed in disgust as she fet something warm and wet drip down her back, black dog slobber messing up her clothes. He grabbed on and Lydia tried to yanked herself free from the dog, but it just grew even heavier as she flailed. “NO, don’t stop! Rio!” She cried, clutching the tree for support. “It’s heavy and it’s slobbering down my neck!” Lydia yelled frantically. It had been a day or two since she had eaten, she was strong, but not at her strongest. “Call animal control, or something!” She snapped, holding out her pistol for him. “Or shoot it! Just get it off me!” She could pull him close, press her lips to his and get all the strength she needed. Lydia stumbled, and snap, snap, snap went the twigs nearby. The beast on her back grew.

Understandably, Lydia was freaking out. Orion was too, and he wasn’t even the one being bogged down by some sort of evil dog with an unbreakable grip. The woman screaming his name pierced his skin and sent a shiver down his back. He had never heard his name screamed quite like that before. He had heard it in anger, but never in desperation like this was. He was needed. He had to do something. Otherwise, this woman could die. And Rio would have proven to be just as worthless as he was afraid he was. Lydia handed the gun off to him and Rio just stared at it for a long moment before giving it and gingery grabbing it from her, holding it by his index finger and thumb and keeping his arms extended as far away from himself as he could. But he knew this was useless. A gun wasn’t going to stop this thing. What would help was Rio’s brain focusing. He knew what this thing was. He knew he did. It was some kind of wolf. He had spent his entire life learning about supernatural beasts. There were clues here. He was growing. He couldn’t be torn off and… it was heavy. The puppy couldn’t have weighed more than ten pounds at the beginning. And Rio had realized while pulling that he was getting stronger. The puzzle pieces started to fit together, and Rio was starting to form an idea. “I can’t- this gun won’t do anything against it.” Rio admitted to Lydia, using his finger to click the safety on before finally stuffing it into his pocket. This gun wouldn’t hurt it, but Rio had an idea. He just hoped that he was right. “I- I have an idea. But we have to leave. Right now. I don’t-” Did this woman know about the supernatural? Would she think he was insane? “I just need you to trust me okay? I’m going to help you. I promise I’ll get this thing off of you.” He slid over to grab onto Lydia. Just as he thought, the weight of the dog was getting heavier and heavier. If they were going to make it anywhere, it needed to be now. “Follow me.” He spoke through rapid breaths, holding her up as he began walking.

Lydia almost asked, biting back a whimper as the beast snarled by her ear. It wasn’t a good idea to ask, because it would only frighten her more, so she grit her teeth together. What happens when it gets too heavy for me to carry? He didn’t even do anything useful when he took the pistol, looking at her like she’d handed him a bomb instead of a usable weapon. “Do something!” Instead, he clicked the safety and Lydia stamped her foot. “What do you mean it wouldn’t work?” In the non-panicked inch of her mind, Lydia knew. There were creatures bullets couldn’t kill. That didn’t mean she had to like it, but maybe this person knew what would kill it. She just had to… be strong, which was easier said than done when her stomach muscles were beginning to burn. She didn’t even smile as she felt his promise settle into place, and let his other words bind him too. If he failed and the wolf monster killed her, well, it’d probably kill him too, but if she could motivate him to stay, then Lydia would use everything she had. He grabbed her, and Lydia nodded, marvelling at how strong he was for such a compact body. “Lead the way, it’s not like- Ah, it’s not like I can go anywhere else!”

How much could Orion explain that Lydia would understand? Did she know about the supernatural? Or did she think he was absolutely insane? She certainly didn’t seem pleased that Rio wasn’t going to shoot the dog. He didn’t think a gun would work anyways, and chances were he would just end up shooting Lydia. That wouldn’t help the situation at all. But eventually, she decided to trust him. Or rather, she probably decided that she didn’t have any other choice. Trust may not have been a factor at all. As the two began walking, Rio pushing the two forward as quickly as he could, he finally answered her, “This isn’t… a normal dog” he began, biting his lip and trying to carefully pick his words before saying them aloud, “It can’t be killed by normal means. Which sounds crazy, I know. But it’s true. Seriously.” From the angle he was pushing, he couldn’t actually see Lydia’s face to determine whether or not she believed him. He supposed by this point it didn’t really matter if she believed him or not. Before long, the two would find out for sure whether Rio was right or not. Or the two would slip up. Crumble to the pressure, literally, and fall over. If Rio was right, he definitely didn’t want to see that. The two continued on, the weight of the dog getting heavier and heavier. He wasn’t sure one person would have been enough at this point. At least not one person with regular strength. But Rio’s strength would only take her so far.

If she hadn’t had a dog weighing on her back so heavily that Lydia was hunched over, if she wasn’t so frightened she could barely breath, Lydia might have sighed in relief. Obviously, it was no normal dog. So of course it couldn’t be just killed. All the same, Lydia clung to him as if her life depended on it, wondering if it did. If maybe the wolf would just climb off her when it got bored, instead of ripping out her throat. “I’ll have to trust you.” Each step out of the woods, it grew heavier and heavier, until she caught sight of one of its fangs from the corner of her eyes, and Lydia whimpered, It was as long as her fingers and glistened with drool If they weren’t both so strong. Lydia swallowed as they emerged from the woods, her legs trembling. “Where’re we going?”

This was getting harder. Not just because the weight of the dog was becoming more and more crushing, but because Lydia’s nails dug into Orion’s arm and he was at a really awkward angle right now. It would be his luck that he would end up dying from a cramp they caused the two to tumble over and get mauled by a supernatural dog. Plus side, Lydia was trusting Rio. Not that she had much of a choice at the moment, but hey, small victories! Now he couldn’t get her killed. She had put her faith in him. And speaking of faith, Lydia wanted to know where they were going. Rio didn’t like the answer, mostly because he hadn’t been back there since he ran away from the Quinn house. But despite his apprehension, he supposed the place may actually come in handy today. Plus, it was because of the forced attendance that he even knew there was one close by. Just over this hill and it would be at the bottom. “We’re uh- going to church.” Rio sighed. This was the worst.

“Right, great.” Lydia replied with a strain in her voice. She just needed to be a little stronger. It didn’t seem to be growing heavier or larger now that they were struggling up the pavement, but her legs were turning to jelly. Her side cramped up. She needed more strength in her than her most recent meal had left her. As Rio helped pull her over the hill, she eyed the side of his head. He didn’t feel all that artistic, but she only needed a tiny amount to take some of his life. Not a full meal, but a taste. Lydia leant into his grip, and sipped at his life force. It reinvigorated her, more powerful than she’d expected. He had a lot of life in him. With this new found strength of hers, they reached the top of the hill. “That one there?” Lydia asked, tilting her head to the church below.

Orion was exhausted. He had broken out into a sweat, supporting the weight of Lydia and the demon dog hellbent on murdering the two of them. Or at least Lydia, Rio wasn’t really sure on the specifics of whether the dog would pick him as his next meal or not. Hard to tell, honestly. The weight of the creature had been getting gradually heavier as the two had walked out of the forest and towards the road. The weight seemed to be getting heavier at a faster rate, or Rio’s body was beginning to give out on him. Rio couldn’t be sure, but he did know that the hunter strength and endurance seemed to be failing him at the moment. If he was supposed to be so advanced, while couldn’t he help carry a lady and one measly supernatural dog to a church? As if he needed anymore examples as to why this power was overrated and disappointed. He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and kept forward, legs beginning to tremble under the pressure. But he continued. They were so. Freaking. Close. “That’s the one. We’re almost there.” Rio breathed heavily, wiping at the sweat that had pooled on his face. So gross. “Be careful going down. The last thing we want is to get eaten after coming all this way because we trip or something.” He was talking to himself more than Lydia, trying to verbally convince himself that if there was anytime to not be clumsy. This was the one. But even that thought was hard to remember when all he could think about was how tired he was.

“Saying things like that doesn’t help,” Lydia said, hot breath of the beast hissing down her neck, that was already wet with slobber and sweat. If they made it out tonight, it was her turn to drink a large vaseful of wine. If. That was a terrible thought indeed. If she needed it, she could pull more life from him to sustain her own strength, but his was still more than hers for the moment. They wouldn’t fall, they wouldn’t fall, they wo- Lydia groaned as she dropped her elbows onto the stone wall by the church, her knees ready to buckle. “Now what. Now what!” She yelled. He’d promised he’d help her, so why wasn’t he helping? Why wasn’t he doing anything?? Lydia yelled in pain as the church bells rang the hour. One, two, three… The beast on her yelped, and Lydia almost collapsed as it jumped from her back, shrinking down to the black furred pup it had been before, and ran back up the hill. Lydia’s knees buckled and she groaned as she fell to the ground, pressing her forehead against the cool wall. “How- how did you know?”

They made it to the church. Somehow, they had made it to the church. And yet… the dog hadn’t left. Orion fought back tears from escaping, not that it would have been that noticeable through the sweat. But the sniffling definitely would have been embarrassing. He needed to get inside of the church. Or he needed to throw something. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to pull his phone from his pocket and check the time. He was too tired. Too drained. The stone wall was a welcome reprieve, but it only gave them a short break. He couldn’t keep it up much longer. He couldn- His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the church bells. Holy crap. The sound was loud and echoed, every chime like a nail being jammed into Rio’s eardrum, stupid hunter hearing. But even as he winced and tried to shove his elbow against an ear to block some of it out, he was so happy to hear that noise. Rio held his breath, hoping that he hadn’t been wrong this whole time. He was beginning to doubt himself, when nothing immediately happened. But finally the animal hopped off of Lydia’s back, a tremendous weight being lifted from both of their shoulders and the dog ran back up the hill, returning to the small size it had been. Rio collapsed onto the ground, rolling over onto his back and letting the grass, cold and moist from dew, cool the back of his neck. He was almost tempted to roll up his sleeves and let the grass cool his arms. Almost. Instead, he remained motionless on the grass, his eyes closing as he finally regained some normal breathing. “I- I read about it.” Rio explained, peaking an eye open to glance at Lydia, who looked just as tired as he did. “It’s called an Aufhocker. It doesn’t like loud noises or the sun. It really doesn’t like church bells.” As if speaking the name brought back the memories, an epiphany finally hit Rio. The twigs! It had been growing in size because of the twigs. That’s how that happened. Would have been real helpful information an hour ago. “I’m uh- glad that it worked honestly. I’ve never actually been around one of those things in real life.”

Lydia panted hard, unsure if she’d ever be able to stand up again. The rock wasn’t enough to cool her, but as she lay there, effectively kneeling in front of the church, Lydia laughed. She prayed briefly, for kindness and forgiveness, and safety from whatever had just attacked her. An Aufhocker. “I’m incredibly fortunate you had read about it then.” She promised herself that she would ask Jared about them later, although perhaps without mentioning how close she’d come to her own demise. She looked sideways at the boy collapsed in the grass. “You could have left me. I am grateful that you didn’t.” Lydia spoke in short bursts, her chest aching from the exertion on her back. “You’re strong, your hearing is sensitive, you have so much… you’re warm.” She’d almost told him he had so much life in his, but that was a strange thing to say. “You aren’t… What are you?” A werewolf, perhaps? Lydia slowly twisted so she could sit leaning against the wall instead of just pressing her forehead against it. All she could think was… thank god she wasn’t wearing heels today.

Lydia didn’t seem completely opposed to the idea of the aufhocker. Whether that was because she had just witnessed the beast for herself or because she was already familiar with the supernatural, Orion couldn’t be sure. In a town like this, it seemed like it would be hard not to know about it. But that never seemed to stop the majority of its residents from living their lives in ignorant bliss. Or uh- dying in it as well. As morbid as that was to consider. “I wouldn’t have left you.” Rio sat straight up at her comment, a wave of dizziness rushing to his head that almost forced him to lie back down. But he stayed upright, his legs still displayed against the greenery of the church yard. “You were in trouble. If I left you back there-” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He’d be as much of a monster as that thing? Was the Aufhocker even a monster? It was certainly dangerous. His parents had been sure to drill that point home. But Rio was more interested in why it did what it did. “I couldn’t do that.” He settled on. And then practically filling in the blanks for Rio, Lydia questioned his strength. So she definitely knew something about the supernatural. “Uh-” Rio didn’t know what to say. Would she know what a hunter was? Would she be glad to hear it or displeased? “I’m a human. Mostly. I just have… some special abilities. Heightened senses and what not.” He didn’t want to come clean. To admit to something that he wasn’t. As if to drive the point home, just in case she did know what a hunter was, he clarified “I’m glad he lived through that. The dog… thing. I don’t think I could have killed it. I mean… I’m not sure they are killable. But like, also I don’t really kill things.” Rio sighed, was that obvious enough? “You uh- don’t seem all that shocked about a growing dog and a kid with super strength.” He winced at himself for labelling himself as a kid. How did he expect others to stop doing it when he was doing it himself?

Everything he said about how he couldn’t have possibly left Lydia went right out the window when he told her what he was. Or rather, when he didn’t tell her what he was. Lydia, who had barely had time to recover from the bone crushing weight of the Aufhocker, began to panic once more. Blood rushed in her ears as she tried to stand up. It was a trap All this had been a trap. To what? Get her to a more convenient hunting ground? An easier place to hide her body?? “Oh god,” Lydia whimpered as she reached for her pistol, only to remember it was in his pocket. He’d disarmed her and exhausted her with a terrifying brilliance. “No, no, please,” She whimpered, scrabbling to her feet. She wobbled as she stepped back, and stumbled into the wall. Her chin trembled, eyes springing full of tears. “I didn’t do anything. Please. I won’t - get away from me! Get away from me! HELP!”

Orion honestly had no idea what had just happened. One moment, the two were catching their breaths after escaping near certain death together. They were casually talking in what may have been the least awkward conversation Rio had ever had with a stranger. Something about the exhaustion had sapped the anxiety from him. Well, at least until Lydia had started freaking out, screaming at him and trying desperately to get away from him, leaving him lying there in the grass, completely dumbfounded. “Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?” Rio crawled up to his feet, his energy already beginning to return to him. Okay, maybe the hunter endurance hadn’t completely failed him after all. Though clearly, standing up and towering over the woman hadn’t been the right choice. Seeing the error immediately, Rio dropped back down, this time onto his knees. As he did, he felt a stabbing pain in his side, and with a sudden, fear inducing realization he realized that he had come this entire way carrying a freaking gun. He felt hot all around. He hated guns. Hated them. “I don’t know what’s going on- but I’m not going to hurt you!” He held his hands up in surrender, his palms facing towards Lydia and slinking away from her. Clearly, it was best not to move any closer to her. “I don’t- Please don’t leave me with your gun. I hate guns.” He pulled the gun from his waist, making sure to angle it away from Lydia and setting it on the grass between them, as far from himself as his arms would reach. “I also hate getting shot so uh- please don’t shoot me?” He tried for a smile, but he could feel his lips trembling. This was a gesture of good faith, yeah? Lydia wasn’t actually going to shoot him. Right?

Lydia tried to scrabble further back as he towered over, her scream turning into a squeak, her legs too weak to get up and run the way she needed. Chances were, even if she tried he’d gun her down. Whimpering at that thought, she clung to the wall, urging herself to get back up, run, do anything other than lie there and die. He dropped back down to his knees as a trick, to get her to calm down. Why?? He’d won. All he had to do was to lunge forward and snap her neck, or shoot her, or use any of the dozen knives he must have on his person to tear into her. Maybe he was one of the cruelest ones, that liked to play mind games before slowly tearing them apart. “Please, I haven’t - I don’t hurt people, please,” She flinched as he raised his hands, even if it was in surrender, and he spoke. Lydia grabbed his words and twisted them into a promise too. He wouldn’t hurt her, he said, and now he couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t know what she was. Lydia panted, sitting a little more upright. Flinching as he pulled out her pistol, Lydia watched him set it on the grass and then lean back. Her gaze darted from him to the pistol, and back to him, before Lydia lunged for the pistol, and aimed it right at him. “Don’t move. You’re a hunter!”

Maybe giving the gun back to her had been a bad idea. As far as decisions went, it hadn’t been one of Orion’s smartest choices. But when had Rio ever been applauded for making particularly intelligent choices? He swore he was the dumbest smart kid alive. “I don’t hurt people either.” Rio tried to reassure Lydia. That was why he was giving up the gun. A peace offering of sorts. Only, Lydia grabbed the gun and trained it on him. Rio felt his heartbeat jump and he kept his hands held up in surrender. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He kept repeating the mantra to himself. Over and over hoping that he would follow his own advice. “I’m not!” Rio frantically claimed, his voice was erratic and came out scratchier than he had intended. Of course this was about being a hunter. This was the response that he expected every time someone found out. This was the response he deserved. He took a deep breath to try to gather himself before trying again, “I’m not.” Okay, that sounded a bit better, “I mean genetically yes. I guess. But I’m not like them. I don’t hunt. Anything.” He supposed he couldn’t honestly say that he hadn’t killed anything. The troll was a near constant reminder of that. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just like I didn’t want to hurt the Aufhocker.” How did people stay calm with a gun pointed at them? Rio was seconds away from hyperventilating, a minute from a full on panic attack. At that point, Lydia probably would shoot him, “Please don’t shoot me. I- I don’t want to die.” Now. Finally. He truly didn’t want to die.

Lydia’s arms trembled just from the weight of holding up her tiny pistol. All of her was exhausted. The trembling could just as much be terror. She swallowed, slowly getting to her feet. She’d need a cab to get her home, but she couldn’t call one when he was still there. Her legs wobbled. “I am not like that animal!” Lydia wanted to glance around, in case it was coming back, but wardens moved fast as lightning and carried iron in their veins. He didn’t need a weapon when he was the weapon. “I don’t want to die either! And the last thing I need is a dead hunter that other hunters want to avenge. I don’t- I don’t understand. So what, you don’t hunt, but instead you’ll tell every hunter you know about me? How is that better?” Her voice cracked, not even aware that exhaustion had her lowering the barrel. He couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t hurt her. It wasn’t a reassuring mantra in the slightest. “Why should I believe you?”

This wasn’t going well. Orion couldn’t keep his composure for much longer. If the shaking and heavy breathing could even be considered composed. He would have a full on meltdown soon. And he didn’t think that Lydia was exactly the type to fetch his inhaler for him. Okay, well Rio had not meant to compare her to the creature before, but noted. If Lydia wasn’t human… what was she? Clearly not a werewolf, Rio would have sensed it. Unless she had some sort of magic to stop it. He wondered if Winston knew anything about that. “We don’t have to! Neither of us should die. We got away from the thing trying to kill us!” They had worked together. Gotten through the forest, and over a hill and to a church of all places. Wasn’t that like bonding? Couldn’t they be friends or something now? “I don’t think there are many hunters that would be dead set on avenging me” Rio found himself saying, then immediately cursed himself for practically giving her an excuse to shoot him. Nic probably wouldn’t be happy. Maybe Kaden and Alain. Athena would definitely lose her mind, but Athena would have no regrets about killing this woman regardless. “I don’t even talk to hunters. Not really!” That wasn’t the entire truth, but it was true enough. “I don’t like hunters. Or hunting. I want to protect the supernatural. Not hurt them. I-” He broke off into a sob. There it went. He knew he couldn’t hold the tears back forever. “I don’t know how to prove it to you. Or how to get you to believe me. But I’m telling the truth!”

He sounded so much like Lydia had moments ago, pleading for his life.The difference was that he kept putting himself down, telling her how little he was worth to others, which would only make it easier to kill him. He sobbed as she stared at him. It wasn’t pity. It certainly wasn’t empathy. It was the cold, calculating cogs of Lydia’s mind that had her slowly lowering the gun, until it wasn’t pointed at him any more. Once again, she was ready to change that at a moment’s notice. Which was a second’s length away from being ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. She had to trust the promises, and look beyond the terror of the last hour. Beat the fear, and see the opportunity here. He wasn’t valued by other hunters. He didn’t hunt. He wanted to protect. There was a treasure trove to use here, if only she could get her own heart to stop screaming. Humans like him had killed her sister, but if she could see past that…. Lydia swallowed. “You know, this really wasn’t what I was planning to do with my afternoon,” she said softly, her voice breaking around her chuckle.

Orion didn’t want to look anymore. If he was going to die, he didn’t want to see it happen. So he shut his eyes. Tried picturing better things. Like that day at the carnival, surrounded by his closest friends, hours away from holding hands with Winston. He thought about dying his hair with Blanche. Pleasant memories, even if both times had been coupled with different traumatizing events. He thought about Layla and how it had felt when the two had escaped from the vampire. Or how close he felt to Nic, despite how different the two were. How he wished he had more time to watch anime with Skye and Winston, or to help Skye figure out that being a Selkie wasn’t as bad as she thought it was. But the longer he sat there thinking about all of these things, he realized that he was still here, doing just that. He hadn’t been shot yet. He risked opening an eye, blinking through the tears and looking at Lydia. She had lowered the gun. Rio opened both eyes now, staring a bit wide-eyed at her. He hadn’t expected this. With Lydia, it seemed like he didn’t really know what to expect next. When Lydia spoke again, Rio laughed through one last sob, using his sleeves to wipe away at the tears that had been streaming down his face. “Me neither.” Rio agreed. Now he was emotionally drained along with physically drained. He fell back from the spot he had been anchored to, falling back on his beat and cradling his knees against his chest in a fetal position. His knees stung from how long he had been resting in that position, “I don’t- Neither of us wants to hurt the other. I don’t think.” At least, considering she had pulled the gun away, he hoped that she didn’t want to hurt him. “Maybe we can just call a cab. And go home?”

Lydia pulled a handkerchief from her purse, and held it out for him to wipe his face properly, if he so wanted it. Her eyes were red, her mouth full of fearful saliva, her hair messed beyond recognition and her clothes destroyed too. She sat outside a church with a gun in her hands and a hunter in front of her. It might as well have been a nightmare. A hunter that didn’t hunt, no less, that was cowardly and weak emotionally. Her lips quirked slightly, as if she was feeling self-deprecating, or self conscious. “No, I don’t want to hurt you,” Lydia agreed softly. Not for now, anyway. She sat on the wall, looking over the graveyard of the church. A dozen tombstones as old as her dotted the grounds. Lydia itched for a bath, for a hot drink, and the comfort of Remmy’s pleasant presence. Maybe she’d even make those plans to meet with Deirdre in the mirror district, and work out how to make their fairy ring debacle right again. That was one friend she couldn’t afford to lose. “I think that’s- I think that’s probably a good idea. Rio, right? Can I pay for your cab?”

There was a wave of relief as Orion realized that he wasn’t dying. Especially at a church, which was objectively the worst place that he could possibly have been killed. He took the handkerchief timidly from Lydia and patted at his cheeks softly. He didn’t know how these things worked. Was he supposed to give it back to her now? Would she ever want it back? “Thank you” He nodded. Finally, Rio risked standing again. He slowly pushed himself off the ground, climbing to his feet and testing the waters. His leg had fallen asleep, and his body ached all over from the walk, but other than that he was functional. He wobbled away from Lydia, only a few feet away, just enough to lean against a tree and shake his leg in an attempt to wake it up. “You really don’t have to do that.” Rio smiled. He almost offered that they just share one into town. But he decided that going their separate ways would probably be for the best today. “But uh- I can order a lyft or something. One for each of us.” Rio pulled his phone from his pocket. The only reason he even had the app had been because of Blanche. He used to just drive or walk anywhere he needed to go. “Do I uh- Do you want the handkerchief back?” He asked Lydia, holding it up for show.

Lydia’s eyes flickered as he thanked her. If she hadn’t known already, Lydia was certain of it now - he had never had a long conversation with a warden about hunting. She smiled, as graciously as she could manage considering both their states, accepting it completely. All the same, when he stood up, Lydia tensed, hand tightening around the handle of her gun. Trying not to look like her heart was planning its evacuation from her chest. “I’ll order my own, don’t worry about it.” She said softly, tapping away at her phone when he addressed her again. Lydia looked up, and shook her head. He really was practically a child. “Keep it,” Lydia said. Just like she would keep the three promises binding him to her close to her chest, to be saved for another time.

#wickedswriting #the working docs title for this 'soft and definitely fine'#para #chatzy #rio

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pigeonfr · 5 years ago

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The Witch of Driftwood Drag

Wind rattled the ramshackle wooden buildings perched on the edge of the water. Louhi pulled up her cloak, determined despite the chill. Here. This was the place. Louhi breathed in the magic, grinning with sharp teeth as it swirled within her and grew through her own power. The delta nearby converged on a leyline, and magic spilled over toward what remained of the tiny town. Estate, she corrected. Not town. This would be her grand palace, her reckoned lair. It was perfect.

Slowly, she slinked down the plank and entered the city proper. It bobbed up and down with her passing, almost splashing her cloak but for a flick of a spell. The main building, the one large enough that it might be called a house, loomed over the others with the proper amount of menace for Louhi to feel at home instantly. Foliage dripped from the rotten eves and some of the wood had been eaten away. No matter. Her spell could freeze it in the moment, hold it in time forever.

Louhi set her staff down and flicked her tail, letting her spell wash over the building to lock it in place. No need to worry about punching a hole through the floor. She strode within and set her things down, sighing as she examined the ratty interior. Perfect, perfect, if only -- A noise.

Louhi snapped around, staff at the ready, only for her mouth to curl into a smile. She ducked down below the window, listening. Distant growls and the clunk of hefty bodies. They drew nearer, sniffing about, hungering after her magic. This was familiar. Magic often drew the ferals to it, and an unwary mage could be torn asunder by sharp fangs if they weren’t careful. Oh, but Louhi was careful. Eager, even. Louhi slunk from her spot and drew chalk lines around the doorway, working quickly at what would be her net. From her satchel she gathered the necessary ingredients for a certain type of spell. She breathed in more arcana, filling her body with it, becoming a beacon herself. The growls stopped. Now, motion: Quick, furious steps. One crushing blow took out the door and a flash of fur announced a pack of Tundra. Louhi slammed her staff against the wooden floor and snap -- The spell closed. The Tundra smashed against the magical net, growling and tearing and ripping at the air, but unable to move more than a few steps. They rushed forward into the circle laid upon the floor and another thunderclap of sound announced the closure of the second spell. They froze. Louhi smiled. Finally, her magic -- with a sharp motion she unleashed it upon the Tundra. Their minds fluttered delicately, alarmed, before being hammered down by the force of the spell. Only one thought remained: Obey. One by one the Tundra awkwardly knelt before her. Louhi lifted her chin, grinning, as this was her due. Bowing servants. Obedient pets. Now this was home. “Names!” She snapped. “Virvatuli, darling. Step forward.” A tundra broke free of the pack, taking a single step forward. “You, dear, are to gather dragons for me. Many, many dragons. Understand? Search the woods, search the fields. A weary traveler, a reckless adventurer -- all to me. Nod if you get it.” The tundra Virvatuli nodded. Excellent. This guaranteed her a steady supply of test subjects. “Next!” She examined them. “Vetehinen.” Another tundra made their way forward. “You, my sweet, will be my executioner. When I tire of my subjects, you will drown them in the river and dispose of their useless bodies.” A distant nod. “Aarni! I demand that you will watch over my hoard. And finally, Levänluhta. Darling Levä -- I need you to keep a very close eye on the dragons that come here. They are to understand their purpose. Any intruders are to be dealt with swiftly.” The final two grunted their ascent. Louhi curled her tail around her, drawing up her cloak in a rare moment of joy. This far exceeded her expectations. This lair would host her new experiments, her greatest accomplishments. She could feel it. Freedom and power, all in her grasp. If only those fools could see her now. ---

Her test wasn’t going well at all. Louhi growled and pounded her staff. The subject wavered over the chessboard, unable to make their own moves, only able to make the moves Louhi herself wanted them to make. “Move that -- No!” Louhi shook her head. “Just make a move. Any move!” Nothing. Not a single inch of motion. Only a confused, pained glance. “Fine!” Louhi pulled herself to her feet, overturning the table. “See if you can breathe!” The subject’s eyes went wide, their mouth falling open, water running over their chin as they gurgled alarm. Their claws flew to their throat, scrabbling at the flesh, before they fell over, uselessly dead. Louhi sighed. Where was Vetehinen when you needed her? With a final scoff, Louhi took her eyes from her subject and retreated up to the second floor. She sat at her desk with a furious breath. She’d have to... Louhi pulled forth the tome she had yet to open. Its chains rattled ominously at her as she set it down before her. For only a moment, fear. “I’m never afraid,” Louhi snapped. She ripped the chains from their holdings and tore open the tome. Glorious knowledge stretched before her, but the page it had settled on -- oh… Just what she needed. Louhi greedily absorbed the words, a cruel, toothy smile opening wide on her face. A potion, of course, for the spell. It had to be ingested, to be closer to the beating heart. Necessary for its potency and accuracy. Louhi brewed relentlessly at her cauldron. Unable to taste test the potion, she glared at its wild, swirling colors, as if the secrets would become visible. The tome’s notes told her the ingredients, but not much else. Still, her skill was unrivaled. She felt confident that along with her magic, this would work perfectly. If only, if only she had a -- A knock at the door and a familiar grunt. “Virvatuli!” Louhi called. “This better be good, or I swear…” Before leaving, she capped a bottle of the potion and set it in her satchel. She slowly made her way down the rickety stairs to the first floor, where Virvatuli stood with her new guest. Louhi’s eyes widened and her jaw fell open. A pearlcatcher like herself, with a beautiful color she hadn’t seen before. His pearl shined from his satchel and a charming smile rested on his face. Louhi stared dumbly in the force of his looks, unable to come up with a single word or spell. “Hello!” the pearlcatcher sang out, cheery. “I’m Sampo. Pleased to make your acquaintance!” Louhi forced herself to move and greet him with an outstretched paw. He shook eagerly. “My, what a beautiful lair! You are the Witch of Driftwood Drag, are you not?” “Why... “ Louhi swallowed down her feelings. “Why, yes. That would be me.” “How wondrous to find you at last!” He looked about. “May I sit?” “Of course.” Louhi gave a nod to a chair that looked like it might snap under his weight. “Let me get you something to drink.” While Louhi slid into the kitchen, Sampo apparently couldn’t keep quiet. “You might not know me at all, not yet, but I’m a wizard!” he shouted from the main room so she could hear. “I travel near and far, wherever the spells are!” He laughed at his own rhyme. “It feels strange to see a fellow spellcaster stay in one place. Ever get lonely?” “Yes,” Louhi said, sweeping back into the room, now with the potion settled in a wooden cup. “Ever so lonely.” Sampo paused, tilting his head, almost hesitating a moment before his winning smile returned. He nodded, face wrinkling with his sunshiny grin. “Ah, maybe we can discuss spell-craft together. I might be able to stay for a few days, give these old bones a rest.” “That would be lovely,” Louhi said, staring at the cup. “Drink, please.” Sampo seemed delighted with his host. He lifted the cup in cheer. “To new friendship!” He laughed. “And happy endings!” To eternal servitude, Louhi thought, and an obedient pet. The drink vanished under Sampo’s attention. He smacked his lips. “Another!” he called, right before his head slammed against the table, his body entirely limp. “No!” Louhi rushed forward. “Sampo!” She shook at him, maddened. Had the potion killed him outright? No, it couldn’t be. She’d done everything perfectly. Her magic, it couldn’t just fail -- Sampo twitched. He lifted his head, blinking owlishly, before he turned to see Louhi still touching him. Something in the air snapped and, and, and… His smile returned. “Hello, my love,” he said brightly. “How may I serve?” --- Late that night, as the two lay entangled in Louhi’s bed, the tome crackled open its lid and spoke. “Your damnation comes,” the tome intoned. “I’ve known for a while,” Louhi said with a wry smile. “Let it come.” The tome clicked shut. “Maybe damnation is fit to serve.” Louhi and the characters belong to Valo.

#lore #clan lore #flight rising lore #flight rising #commission

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withlovingregards · 5 years ago

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Absent Minded Fantasy

More lemony times based on the JemJammer podcast!

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Lachlan felt like such an idiot, his head in his hands as he sat in the helm chair. Another eight hours of being stuck in the god damn Phlogiston, meaning eight hours for the man to think about how stupid and useless he was. He growled and fisted his hands into his hair, ready to pull it out in his frustration.

He could never win with Jyll. No matter how many times he tried talking to her, he became an awkward pile of green goo as soon as she looked at him, trying his best to just talk like a functioning adult. Why was it easy to talk to her about things going on around the ship, but when it came to trying to get to know her a little better, he came undone?

Letting out his frustration in the form of a long sigh, Lachlan leaned back, letting his head rest against the top of the chair, eyes closed as he tried to focus on flying the ship. Except when they were flying through the Phlogiston, it took little to no effort to keep the Kestrel on track. So it was just him and his thoughts. Thoughts of Jyll and Jyll alone.

As if thinking her name summoned her to the very front of his mind, his connection with the entire ship brought him to her. The Cleric was seated in the Wardroom by herself, curled up in the cozy arm chair with a book in her hands. He knew that book by sight alone, mostly because Xilwin loved to chase him around with it and ask him way too personal questions.

He could feel the blush making its way onto his cheeks as he watched Jyll, knowing it was wrong to watch her while he was at the helm, but completely unable to stop himself. She seemed so content, her own cheeks dusted with a flush as she read that Orc romance novel, one he knew she had ready before. She gently turned the pages, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the edges of the book as her eyes slowly scanned the words on the pages.

Something in the book brought a small smile to her face, so soft and pure since she thought herself alone, and Lachlan’s heart clenched in his chest. He pulled away from her, though it didn’t help get her off his mind.

“If only I could be half as suave as the Orc in that book,” he said, voice dripping with melancholy, “Then maybe I’d be able to tell her how I felt. Or even be bold enough to tell her how badly I want to kiss her. To touch her skin…”

His imagination brought him back to the Wardroom, though in a full blown day dream. Jyll was still there, sitting and reading, but Lachlan was there too. When she noticed him standing in front of her, she placed her book to the side, looking up at him with her eyes full of such raw emotion, even his dream self gulped.

“Did you need something?”

“Come here Jyll,” he said with more authority in his voice than he’d ever had. She gave him a curious glance, but didn’t hesitate or decline his order. She walked up to him and stood closer to him than was strictly necessary, looking up at him through her thick eyelashes.

“Yes Lachlan?” she breathed, and the man could hear her heart beating rapidly inside her chest.

He didn’t respond to her question. Or, at least not with words. Instead, he moved one of his hands to cup the back of her head, fingers weaving through her metallic colored hair as his thumb gently caressed her scarred cheek. Jyll’s breath hitched and she suddenly stood very still, but didn’t step away from him.

For a minute, he continued to take her in, smell her scent mixed with his own as they stood so close to one another. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips against her own, being gentle as to not hurt her with his tusks. As soon as their skin made contact, a small sound left Jyll’s throat, quiet but pleasured, and Lachlan matched her moan with one of his own.

A suddenly tight grip around Lachlan’s cock pulled him from his thoughts with a startled huff, bringing him back into the tower where he sat, alone, with his pants undone and his extremely hard member wrapped in his own shaking hand. Gods, he had been daydreaming so deeply he’d forgotten where he was. An embarrassed blush took his entire face, and he went to let go of himself when his attention was thrust back towards Jyll, the real one, as she stood up from the arm chair, stretching her arms to work up her blood flow, showing off her muscles and pushing out her chest.

And there he was, back in his daydream, kissing a very willing Jyll, who was no longer in her armor, but a simple blue nightdress, with the thin straps slowly starting to fall off her shoulders. The hand that wasn’t in her hair moved down her arm, stroking softly, and continued to do so down her body until he reached her hip. He pulled her closer to his body, letting her feel the hardness of him through his pants, causing her to gasp. Enjoying the feeling, Jyll moved her arms to wrap around his neck, bringing them closer together. Lachlan moaned and opened his mouth enough to allow his tongue to enter Jyll’s welcoming mouth, allowing him to drown in her sweet taste.

Lachlan’s hips bucked up into his hand, which started to pump at his cock, pulling a small groan from the man. Gods, this felt so good but this was so wrong. He couldn’t just do this, not when he was so conflicted about the woman, not when he was supposed to be flying the ship.

But the Kestrel was pretty much on auto-pilot in this territory, with a spellcaster in the helm to only really keep the thing floating. His attention didn’t have to be here. It could be back in that daydream.

Jyll sucked his tongue farther into her mouth, eliciting a groan from Lachlan, and a deeper on as she pressed against him, her hips flush to his own now, allowing her to feel the full length of him. As she continued to kill him, her hand snuck between them to free him from his pants. She used their bodies to create friction between them, moving her body around to stroke him without her hands. Lachlan growled and pulled away from the kiss, watching her as she continued to move. Her eyes locked onto his, and the look begged him for more.

His hands went to the hem of her dress, pulling the thin fabric up to her hips, baring her to him and he found that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Her face flushed, causing her to look away, but he gently grabbed her chin to make her look back at him.

“You’re so beautiful Jyll.”

“Lachlan-”

No, no, no, this was wrong! Lachlan bit at his bottom lip, holding in his sounds as his hand continued to stroke his dick. He couldn’t be doing this. This was wrong. He shouldn’t be jerking off to his crush, no matter how hot she made him, or how much being around her drove him crazy. He shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t be doing this.

He pulled one of her legs up to rest against his hip, the tip of his shaft moving back and forth against the slit of her pussy. Jyll let out a small squeak, both her hands going to grab at his forearms as she looked down to watch him moving back and forth. It was hard to keep himself at a slow pace, and harder still to keep himself from pushing inside of her, but just watching the way this teased her and made her breathing faster made up for it.

“Jyll, do you want me?”

“Lachlan, I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you,” her eyes turned tender and she brought her face closer to his, lips moving against his own as she said, “I love you Lachlan.”

The Half-Orc growled and started to stroke at himself faster, hips shaking as he stopped himself from thrusting into his own hand. He was too far gone, he couldn’t stop himself. With sweat starting to form on his brow, Lachlan went back into his fantasy.

Lachlan pushed Jyll against the closest wall, loving the way Jyll gasped at his roughness, and pressed himself against her center to pin her there. His other hand went to move her other leg, hoisting her up so that both of her legs were wrapped around him, his hands on her ass to hold her up. Her mouth made an ‘o’ shape as he did so, eye wide and innocent, never having been in this position before.

At the same time Lachlan leaned in to give the woman a deep kiss, he also sheathed himself inside of her, making her cry into his mouth, a sound he greedily swallowed. He allowed her time to adjust to him and the new position, then started to rock her back and forth slowly, letting his arms do all the work.

“Lachlan,” Jyll whimpered, voice quiet and her shallow breaths growing louder every time he pressed back into her.

“It’s okay, you can let go Jyll. I’ve got you.”

Trusting him, Jyll’s nails dug into his back as his pace picked up, the clapping of skin growing louder and faster. He continued to hit the end of her, and as he rubbed against the sweet spot inside of her, Jyll threw her head back, letting out a loud moan that ripped through his core.

Lachlan groaned and tightened his grip around his cock, his stroked rougher as he began to pull the beginnings of an orgasm out of himself. He knew his eyes would be almost pure black, with his pupils so dilated that there wouldn’t be much iris to see. As beads of sweat continued to roll down his temple, a small whine left him, and his other hand went to fondle his balls.

Lachlan’s hips snapped in a quick rhythm, the sound of her thick thighs slapping against him a continuous sound as the Half-Orc continued to fuck the quaking woman in his arms. Jyll’s head kept thrashing back and forth and she mumbled things under her breath, curses and prayers to her Goddess mixed in with the pleading sound of his name.

He moved her arms to wrap around his neck again, making sure that she was held there secure before he tilted her down, holding her in a position as if she was lying on a bed. Jyll’s wide eyes went to him, a question in them.

“All you have to do it hold on and feel me, okay?”

He didn’t give her time to respond before he started to hammer into her, moving so fast it was hard to pinpoint his movements. Jyll’s mouth was stuck open in a silent moan, her eyes almost rolling into the back of her head, her arms locked tight around Lachlan’s neck. His breathing was getting ragged, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he needed to get Jyll there first.

He started to hit harder and deeper, and when Jyll started to scream, he knew he wasn’t going to last long. Growls and grunts left him, growing more and more animalistic as Jyll said his name like a prayer over and over. Her whole entire body was shaking with tremors, her back arching as her hips met him thrust for thrust.

Lachlan leaned closer and started to bite and suck at Jyll’s neck and jaw, where he then whispered to her, “Let go.”

Let go she did. She let out one more scream before she clenched around him, pulling herself up to cling to Lachlan as she rode out her orgasm. She bounced up and down, sobbing as the waves hit her hard, and hearing her primal noises, Lachlan couldn’t help but roar as he came inside her, his pumps falling out of rhythm as he emptied himself inside her.

Lachlan had to cover his mouth with a hand as he came, his orgasm hitting him so hard he was almost paralyzed in the chair as his cum covered his still pumping hand and pants. He continued to twitch as small aftershocks rocked him, ripping small whimpers out of him as well as the soft chant of Jyll’s name.

When he was finally himself again, Lachlan looked down at himself as he panted, groaning at the mess he had made all over himself. Embarrassment quickly filled him, though he was relieved no one had come in while he’d been deep in his own mind.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was such a horny, love sick idiot.

#jemjammer #jylliana #Lachlan #my writing #lemon

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cursewoodrecap · 5 years ago

Text

Session 7: Wait, Now We Have to Get Home Somehow

We have gone to fantastical places and seen improbable things! But we kind of want to play the setting we’ve planned for like a year, so I guess we gotta find our way back.

We’re not all assembled at the start of session, so before Officially Jumping Into A Portal, we take a few moments to mess around in the abandoned campground in the Drowned City.

Shoshana investigates one of the rusting metal vehicles that sit abandoned in the giant grey structure. She finds a cache of strange documents, written in a mysterious unknown language, in the glove compartment. She knows it’s the glove compartment because she also finds gloves.

We read through the notes we took from the Astronomer’s study. A lot of it is technical and out of our grasp, but apparently the pattern etched into the walls functions to “weaken the barrier between realms” and “creates an artificial soft spot.” Luckily, we did not roll well enough to gain a Burning Curiosity To Learn More.

We write out a nice description of the Drowned City in our Pokedex notebook. Like in the paintings, the city is wide mix of buildings – some familiar, some alien. Districts seem to be differentiated by architectural style. However, scattered across the city in all districts, there’s this one style of weird dark buildings. They’re taller than most things and almost hurt our eyes to look at, made of glittering black stone and extending above the city. A bit in disrepair, and twisted in ways that physics would say are structurally unsound. Some have fallen over.

I give it two stars on TripAdvisor for interesting architecture and readily available beachfront proximity, but the local wildlife is unfriendly and there isn’t much of a nightlife.

Gral gets a “hey buddy, you okay?” after everything we found out about Bullbreaker and his comrades. The rundown: Gral is touched by Shoshana’s note, excited that Bullbreaker is alive, sad because he has his acquaintances’ remains, even though he’s done a lot of funeral services in his time. His determination is Bolstered! He’s going to protect the town of Holzog from the fate that befell his squad!

Oh hey, everybody’s here. Let’s pick up where we left off: hopping through an interdimensional portal.

We step out onto the path of stairs that we left, but it looks different than last time? First of all, the section of path we came here on is straight up gone. Everything seems to have rearranged itself entirely, because consistent geography is definitely not a thing here.

We can see what looks like an enormous telescope protruding out of a piece of building - the Astronomer’s tower! Between it and us is, instead of a path, a field of rocks floating gently in the void, like a tiny local asteroid belt. (Also a weird snail thing, but it’s minding its own business.) To get to the tower... we could jump between the rocks, maybe?

A voice shouts out in Valdian: “MURDERERS!”

Crouching on this weirdly spherical stone in the center of the asteroid field, there is a hulking figure, wearing what was once decent clothes. He has greyish, pale skin and no eyes, just sunken flesh pits where they once had been. He is swollen and grossly, misshapenly muscular, and five chisel-tipped tentacles stretch out of his back, like a meaty Doc Ock. More writhing tentacles come out of his sleeve instead of a hand; just a spaghetti of weird meat-limbs. (The DM informs us that we were enjoying the Key too much, so he had to drop in the word “meat-limbs.” Suffer.)

Shoshana is immediately offended because her avatar on the Roll20 map is Doc Ock from Into the Spider-Verse, and THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE.

Anyway he’s screaming at us about murder, so we should probably pay attention. “You killed it! It was the first of its kind! Just a child! Do you have any idea what it took to bring it into the world? It nearly found its way out! And you killed it!”

Someone picks up on his chisels for hands extremities and figures out that this must be the Sculptor, Karl Schossman. (Though now he’s more of a Schoss...thing.) And we definitely did kill his mimic statue.

“It attacked us. We were forced to act in self-defense,” Gral tells him diplomatically.

“It was a child! Frightened and hungry!”

“...to be fair, I was also frightened and hungry,” notes Clem.

“You don’t even know what you destroyed! The greatest work of sculpture ever created! My masterpiece!”

He’s on a roll now, so he has to monologue. “What makes the ultimate sculpture? Every sculpture that could ever exist, all in one. That is what I created! That is what the Key showed me how to make!” His tendrils start chipping at the stone under his feet, agitated. “And you just KILLED it!”

We’re surprised he knows about its death at all. He can get back to the House from here?

“Of course you can get back, when the gates are open. That’s how GATES work. Clearly you’re not only a philistine, but a fool. And a MURDERER!”

Turns out he can’t stay in the real world, once the gate closes – he’s only able to visit the house when it’s in-between both realms. “That’s why creating it took so long! That’s why what you have DONE-“

Gral, aside: “He’s more upset that we killed HIS thing than that we killed a living being. How selfish.”

Clem tries for an optimistic tone. “Hey, maybe now it’s just a new kind of art?”

“NO! You made it be one thing. It was every thing!”

Clem admits that maybe she just doesn’t get art.

“Well, now the ART will get YOU! Study in Stone #23, AVENGE!”

A carved piece of rock by his side groans, moves, and gets to its feet. A gargoyle!

“Shoshana got run over by a gargoyle, comin’ home from our house Christmas Eve...”

Valeria has the Ring of Jumping, so she’s MOON BOUNCIN’ all around the asteroids to get to the one the Sculptor’s on. We all immediately have to look up how jump mechanics work, and whether they allow for slam-dunk hang time physics. She hops to an asteroid near the gargoyle and SMITES. It would resist the physical damage, but as she smites, her rose vines tear into the gargoyle’s cracks and crevices, like ivy on an old building in fast-forward.

The DM is a little disappointed, because the gargoyle WAS gonna fly around and push people off the edge of the path out into the void, but Valeria has Sentinel, so it ain’t goin’ NOWHERE.

As Gral throws Faerie Fire at the sculptor, his weird stone-grey skin bursts into vibrant color. As the faerie dust goes toward the gargoyle, it is all sucked into the sculptor, negating its effect. He has the statblock of a flail snail! Antimagic shell! He weirdly tentacle-walks across the gaps without much trouble, but he’s not very fast. He streeeetches his tentacles to flail at Gral, but whiffs. Shoshana shoots the gargoyle with thunder, giving it some serious chips and cracks. Clem leaps asteroids and grabs the adamantine wrench we found, brandishing a weapon that might be hard enough to crack stone.

And then the DM grins, and the asteroids on our Roll20 map hit their initiative and start to move and shift through the void. Better hold on!

Valeria breathes ice at them, and Gral pops off a crossbow shot. The bolt spins off into the void and then falls back at Gral’s feet, like a boomerang. It’s kind of warped now though? Weird. Better pocket it.

“BEHOLD!” the Sculptor shouts. “YOU CAN SEE THE BRILLIANCE OF MY VISION!” His skin emits a dazzling blend of colors. Everyone within 30 ft makes a WIS save. Shoshana, hanging out in I’m A Spellcaster range, doesn’t have to. Clem, Valeria, and Gral. They are stunned by the brilliance of his vision for 1 round. Clem gasps. “I...I understand art now!”

Clem may now add “gets art” to her character sheet.

The gargoyle is crumbling away to dust as we hack and slash and shoot at it, but the Sculptor is a greater threat. His lashing chisel-tipped tentacles tear into the stunned Valeria, reducing her to 0hp. Luckily, since this part of the Curse does not work off desire for power or fear of death, she does not take Taint from it. Gral Healing Words her up.

The gargoyle has taken advantage of the stun to finally escape Valeria and hassle the spellcaster, but Shoshana handles her face fulla goyle decently, and her enhanced claws break apart the disintegrating stone for good. The Sculptor is not pleased. “Noooo! Number 23! Do none of you appreciate what I – I have suffered, and made others suffer – and I am a moral person, so making them suffer made ME suffer – for this art! And you just-! How dare you.”

Clem and Valeria fuckin stab him.

Gral tells him his art is tacky, which he is 1d4 of offended by. The Sculptor and the tanks trade heavy blows as Shoshana, hiding back on the path, misses all of her shots and feels bad about it. Another crossbow bolt boomerangs back to Gral. This one has an eye now!

He tells us our aesthetic is weak. Gral notes this is rude, but kind of accurate.

Finally, we do enough damage to start ripping off tentacles. Valeria catches one in her trident and twirls it like spaghetti, popping it right off.

Clem scores the final blow. She looks him in the eye and growls, “I understand your art. And I find it wanting.”

Then she cleaves him in half and boots him off the asteroid. His two halves float out into space, shouting “EVERYONE’S A CRITIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC”

Fight over. Everyone finishes hopping asteroids onto the next solid section of path. Except for our poor spindly sorceress, who rolled a 2 and has a Strength score of Bad. Valeria has to moon-bounce back over and bridal-carry her across, with her Ring of Boing and her Arms of Beef. Shoshana, pressed up close against the chest of a muscular, buff dragon-woman, is feelin’ some kind of way. 😳

We pass by a big shiny disc platform covered in strange symbols. Valeria feels, in her mind, that the Answers Are There if you just…let them in…

She makes her save and is like Oh Yeah, That’s The Key, Better Not Do That. But she takes a loooong look at it before she turns away, reluctantly. We mosey on up the stairs.

A weird thing happens as we get closer to the tower: the spiral of the stairs gets tighter, the stairs become wood, and the void fades away as the walls of the Astronomer’s house reassert themselves. The pattern on the walls is denser here than anywhere else. Coming through the doorway, we see a figure, twisted. He was clearly once an elf, but he has been twisted and reshaped like putty. One of his eyes is withered almost to nothing, while the other is massive and bulbous, deforming his entire head. Despite his corrupted appearance, he sits calmly in a well-appointed study, wearing fine robes. A tentacle-like finger is holding a cup of tea, which he sips delicately.

“Ah,” he greets us politely, looking entirely unsurprised to see us. “Would you like some tea? It’s so rare that I get guests.”

Valeria introduces herself on reflex. “Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service, it’s nice to meet you, Mr....?”

“I’m Artyoum Vlemisk, though these days I prefer simply The Astronomer. Today ‘Artyoum’ seems so far away. A simple man, afraid to leave his house.”

Gral looks around. “Seems like you took the house with you.”

“Yes, so I did. What a simple solution, in the end. All those years, staring at the stars, not knowing what I was looking for...”

He puts his massive eye to the eyepiece of the telescope, where it fits perfectly, and gazes out into the strange cosmos. “From here I can see everything. I can show you things, too! Please, come sit. I believe Adelaide made these.” He gestures to a perfectly normal-looking tray of cookies. “She comes by sometimes to visit. She’s such a worrywart, making sure I eat. I don’t even need to eat anymore.”

Gral, understandably wary of lookin’ at things here in mental distortion land, asks, “Can you just tell us what you know, instead of showing us?”

“Oh, certainly! Although there are things I would need to show you, for you to truly understand.”

That’s slightly ominous. But Gral’s got a mission. “Mists come out of the lake, and have been getting dangerously close to Holzog. They are harmful to its residents. What prompts their spread?”

The Astronomer puts on a mildly contrite face. “I’m sorry to hear that the people of Holzog are suffering. Had our plan succeeded, they would be here with us! The whole valley would have come when we moved the house. It’s a terrible shame the Destroyer stopped us.”

Shoshana jumps on that, remembering the Madman’s strange painting of a lizard-owl-creature. “Who was the Destroyer? What happened?”

“He must have had some idea of what we were doing. I was lookout duty at end, but I did not see him. Only later, the Key showed me what had happened. He took the form of an owl. He must have felt our working somehow, but that’s not a question that particularly interests me. He was very clever about his sabotage! Fire or an assault, we could have easily repelled. The Lurker’s hounds would have aided us. We could have rebuilt, and tried again. But he approached by stealth. The wings of an owl to cross the lake, then a lizard to scurry into the caves underneath my house. Then used magics of his kind-”

“His kind?”

“The druids of the wood, of course. Who else turns into owls and lizards, and reshapes the earth? Only such a backwards, backwoods bunch of superstitious yokels would oppose our work with such fervency. We were trying to do something new! All they care about is tradition.”

He continues ranting. “The druid opened a sinkhole, and dropped us in at the moment our work would have reached completion. Poor Ana and Josephine. My part is done, and I can watch a thousand worlds through my telescope. Anything I wish, I can see. Their part is not complete. They play their music on and on, then gather their strength and play again. When they play, the gaps thin, the mists pour through and the hounds wander the valley. Eventually they will not merely push, but break. Then our contract will be complete.”

“What contract? With whom?”

“Our contract with the Key! We create the hole for it, and it shows us what we need. Then we are free to travel the realms as we wish.”

“What happens when they break through? Will Holzog’s valley come here?”

“Maybe not the whole valley. Our initial calculations were done before the pattern was disrupted. But yes, that was our goal. Once our collaboration is complete, everyone from the Baroness to the poor fishmonger’s son will be Free. And the Key will certainly have tasks for them in exchange for their freedom, the Truest freedom. You see, the Key is not like the other prisoners, it does not work by fear, or-”

“Hold on, hold on. Other prisoners?”

“You are very familiar with one of them,” he replies, leveling a meaningful look at Shoshana’s sharp claws and predator’s eyes.

Gral laser-focuses in. The Key is a prisoner. “That which cannot be killed cannot be bound....” he murmurs. If the Key can be imprisoned, it can be destroyed.

The rest of the party is looking at each other, wondering why the image of prisoners is so familiar. Wait - the tapestry!

“The tapestry?” The Astronomer takes a glance through his telescope. “Ah, you were speaking literally.” His arm reaches out, further than physically possible, to snag a cookie off the tray. “Yes, a crude illustration of the prisoners, reaching out to those who would free them. The others appeal to base fears – death, pain, abandonment. The Key reaches out to those who seek truth and beauty. Inspiration! Enlightenment! Far more worthy goals.”

We are stunned. This is the biggest insight into how the Curse works that we’ve ever heard of, and this guy is handing out revelations over tea and cookies.

“Who imprisoned them?”

“That is a very deep question. Would you like to know? That is one of the things I would like to show you. If you would gaze through, all answers are yours to see.” He gestures generously toward his telescope.

We can’t say we’re not tempted, but Shoshana speaks up. “Ooookay, we’re gonna TABLE THAT for now. What happens if they get free?! Like, especially the wolf one.”

“Oh! The Hunt! Yes, it struggles for pure power, to seize control of the prison from the wardens, to break itself out.”

Not an answer to our question, but interesting. “Who are the wardens? Are they druids?”

"Ah, that’s another answer you must be shown. They’re not quite druids, that term would be deeply inaccurate, and yet it’s not entirely wrong in its own intriguing way...”

“Are they...humanoid??”

“No, but yes.”

We try to insight check him. We don’t roll good, and we get the insight of “Holy shit, that guy’s eyeball is HUGE.” Kinda hard to read facial expressions, tbh.

He sits back in his chair. “My role for the time being is to give answers to those who have the courage to seek them out.”

Okay, okay, enough of this big-picture stuff, Valeria wants to get back to our basic needs. “The villagers are very concerned about the mist. I don’t think this whole...thing is something they want.”

“Perhaps they will not want it. I cannot say,” the Astronomer says wistfully. “But as it is now, don’t they deserve the freedom to choose? Their humdrum life, or this sublime beauty?”

“You’re not offering them freedom, you’re offering fear!” she fires back.

“And you’re not offering much of a choice,” Gral adds in.

“They will learn eventually. And then, they may not thank me, but. Ah, well.” It’s blatantly obvious that he’s completely unconcerned about the townsfolk, at best.

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Shoshana pipes up hesitantly. “Uh...you can see a lot of things, right? Um, there’s a person-

“Oh! I thought you might ask about her,” he interjects brightly. “I can show you where she is, where she will be in a week’s time, what she’s up to. Come take a look!”

Shoshana takes a wary look at the enormous telescope, and decides to limit herself to a simple question: “…is she alive?”

“Oh yes, she lives.”

Shoshana looks around awkwardly, her eyes landing on Gral. “Oh! There’s another guy, um, an orc? He’s called Bullbreaker. Is he alive?”

“For now. These are two people who lead very dangerous lives. If only someone could find them, and help them,” he says, unsubtly, turning the eyepiece of the telescope towards us.

Valeria doggedly tries to get us back on track about the village in danger. “So how would we stop the mists? Would we have to kill the musicians? Would that work? I know they’re your friends, but we have innocent people to save.”

“Yes, if you stop Ana and Josephine from playing, the mists will no longer rise. I will admit, I’d be sad to see them go. But I am content. I have earned my part, and I can see all the worlds I wish from here.”

We’re surprised he would not oppose us, but we’re not gonna push in case he changes his mind. Better question: how do we get back to the house and the musicians?

"That’s not a hard route. Go that way,” he says, pointing out the window to a branch of the winding path, “go past the beacon, take some of the doors, and you’ll find your way to the conservatory, on this side.

The beacon, it turns out, is the light in the middle of the shield-like disc, the one that had nearly entranced Valeria.

“What is beacon for?” she has to ask. “I almost figured it out, but...”

“What is a beacon ever for? It guides the way.”

“To where?”

“Home. That’s an interesting question.”

“For whom?” Gral adds.

“That is an even BETTER question, my good orc.”

“Was it for you and your collaborators?”

“No, something else.”

“For the Key?”

Like he has for all the really juicy questions, he gestures to his telescope.”

We realize we could....come back? Mr. Astronomer, would you mind if we visited you again, when we have more we want to know?

The Astronomer nods. “I never left my house. I will be here, until you know what you are seeking.”

He offers us a few cookies for the road. There’s eldritch runes in the frosting. We take a few, figuring the Sturmhearst guys will get a kick out of them. “Do you want a baggie, or a little tin?” This enormous weird hulking worm-man digs around for a tin, finds one, dumps sewing supplies out of it, and pops the cookies in. “Take a thermos with tea, in case you get tired later. You wouldn’t really want to sleep here.”

As we awkwardly file out of the Astronomer’s tower, Gral murmurs to Shoshana, “There are many things I wish to know too, but the cost from that one is too great.”

Shoshana nods. “…as long as I know she’s alive, that’s fine. I can find her myself.”

Valeria, meanwhile, is frustrated. “I’m so curious as to the nature of the curse! But I don’t yet have the right questions to ask.” Valeria’s player is basically vibrating out of her seat, her immense desire to Find Out Answers stifled only by her commitment to staying in character.

Clem focuses on the practical parts. “So, there’s some primal force in woods combating the Curse? He says there are four different prisoners. What’s imprisoning them?”

The answer, of course, is just a few steps behind us. But Shoshana shakes her head decisively, trying to banish the thought. “You saw what a couple days in a spooky cave did to me. If I look into that thing, I’ll be a nutty painter.”

“Yes. Once you know how to fix it, you might not want to fix it,” Gral reminds the group.

“It’s better to acquire the knowledge naturally,” Clem agrees. “Anyway, what’s up with these druids? I’ve heard stories, but I don’t know much about them.

Valeria rolls her Knowledge: Religion. Here’s what the DM gives us:

The Druids are – well, the closest equivalent is clergy, but it’s not an organization – of the local Valdian religion, the Way of the Woods. It’s an old system of belief that predates the Aquilian conquest and the shift to worshiping the Aquilian pantheon. Their power set is transforming into/summoning/commanding animals and nature. (You’re all D&D players, you know how druids work.) They’re very secretive. Although the religion has faded, they never really went away? But they’re very distrustful of outsiders, so much so that even people who live in rural towns rarely, if ever, meet the druids. They’re about the deepest woodsfolk as you can go, but not in a cursed way. They will interact with society but rarely, and they go incognito when they do. Their extreme xenophobia extends to anyone who is not a confirmed follower of the Way of the Woods, so it’s really hard to make or maintain contact.

Shoshana alludes to a woman from her village who left to become druid. Supposedly, she just walked off into woods one day, never to be seen again. From a local’s perspective, druids are generally considered benevolent. If you see a weirdly intelligent animal in woods, one should help it or accept its help, because it’s a druid. Most of the Way of the Woods that Shoshana is familiar with has faded into folktales, superstition, and secular tradition rather than a full religion. Often tales of druids get mixed up with Way of the Woods tales of Baba and Gramps, the benevolent forest spirits. Shoshana knows a bit, but not much. It’s hard to tell what’s fairytale and what’s not.

Gral considers the new information. “They could be a powerful ally. After all, the enemy of our enemy is our friend.”

Valeria’s less optimistic. “Yeah, they’re our friend. But can we convince them that we’re their friend?” Valeria is especially doubtful about her chances - a local peasant could be passed off as a Way of the Woods follower, but a paladin of Rack is going to put them off from the start.

Oh hey, we’ve come upon a door! Like the ones in the house! Sadly, it probably has big scary hounds behind it. Valeria Lay On Handses herself, and then pat pats Shoshana for a couple hit points for good measure.

Gral listens at the door, and he can faintly hear the music of the two women drifting from far away. They are still jammin’, as they are wont to do!

Clem bravely barges on in and finds an ordinary-looking room, which has several more doors leading away. We listen, and follow the music. Clem opens door 2 and find...another tiny room of doors. Valeria decides we go left next. Something is weird about the music? But it’s louder. Gral is told to roll Perception and does good, and hears howling pipes. The Lurker has caught our scent.

“It’s Here.”

The scrambling behind us, of the hounds.

“They’re here.”

Roll initiative, everybody!

Shosha mage armors up and zags through a door at random. Bad choice, there’s nothing but a swirling vortex through there! And something’s reaching out to grab ya! She Dex saves poorly and is grappled by a woogle of tentacles. Clem grabs her by the scruff, yanks her out of the woogle and tries a different door. Clem pops through the door into…the first room we were in. She retraces our steps through the open door and rejoins us. Guys, this house is WEIRD.

Valeria tries door 3. Success, another room! A flesh hound pops through the portal door and latches onto Clem, critting. She lives tho. Gral finds a new door to a real room. Shoshana books it through, dashing straight past him into a new door to an even further room where the music is loud! Clem drops a FUCKIN GRENADE on the flesh-hound as she runs, and slams the door shut behind her. It goes BOOM. There’s a weird sound like a crackling, too. Valeria catches up with Shoshana at the front of the line. There’s mist coming under a gate in this new room. Seems we’ve found where we’re going.

Gral minor illusions a fake Gral and closes the door behind him, catching up to the party and hoping the flesh-hounds will be fooled. The doggo figures out it’s an illusion, though, and charges through a different portal door directly to Clem. Seems like they know the layout here.

The DM is mildly disappointed, because we guessed too good on his puzzle to do a proper Scooby Dooby Doors comedy routine. Shoshana pops an orb of fire back through her door to help Clem and then reluctantly scoots through the misty door into the conservatory. This is the space we saw through the mirror. I’M ALONE WITH LADIES YOU GUYS. HELP. They haven’t noticed her yet, though.

Clem disengages with the hound and charges through to meet up with Shosha. We can see the musicians! They have three vaguely humanoid servants dancing to the impossible music, writhing in bizarre ways. This is the weirdest club any of us have ever been in.

(It is decided that in the cyberpunk AU, the Astronomer’s house is just a really sick dance club. It’s where you go to See The Stars.)

(A bad Stefon impression is performed. This club has EVERYTHING: eyeball men, crab disasters, the tragic fate of your long-lost comrades...)

We all prep attacks for when the hound comes through the door.

The dimensional shiftiness that makes it hard to hit isn’t happening right now? We don’t roll good enough to know why. No, the DM can’t resist telling us. Something in that bomb did it. There’s sparks coming off the hound, and it’s coated in some kind of dust from the Broad Spectrum grenade. One of the substances in it must interfere with their powers and presence.

Clem smacks it and Shoshana crits a Primal Savagery. It crits Shoshana back, and rolls nearly max. She’s down. Healing Word from Gral, as she forgets about her Strength of the Grave ability again. Clem and Valeria start smacking it with weapons, and Gral Psychic Blades it super dead.

Using her medic abilities, Clem heals Shosha to full, because witches get stitches.

My internet failed at this point, so I don’t have a great Roll20 visual for this next fight, but phone data does miracles and I was able to get back on the call.

The situation: there are 3 dancers and 2 musicians. All have the weird spaghetti-stretched look we’ve come to associate with corrupted followers of the Key. Each dancer has a colorful aura for a 20 ft radius. They draw your eye as they spin and sparkle, and within that radius we have disadvantage to attack anything that is not a dancer. (They are statted as starspawn grues, for anyone keeping track.) Clusters of glittering crystals dot the room, resonating in time with the music.

A dancer dances up to us and warps reality at Valeria. Walk into the club like whattup, make a Will Save. But it nat 1s at whatever it was doing.

Shoshana manages to get out of the dancer’s radius, and aims at the two musicians with her signature Twinned Spell Chromatic Orb. She fires off a deafening round of thunder damage, hoping to disrupt the music! Two of the dancers stumble and lose the beat for a moment. The misty gate back to the real world, fluctuating in and out of reality in the back of the room, looks more like an intact wall now – it stutters as the music is disrupted.

By the way: Are they human? No, they are dancer.

Clem cuts down a dancer and advances on the next one. The flutist, Ana, strikes three high notes that form in the air as shimmering shapes and blast toward us. Two shots miss, one hits Clem.

Gral casts Silence.

The song stops.

The door fades away.

Josephine, the violinist, steps out of the silence circle and strikes her violin strings with her bow, sending a wave of sonic energy towards Gral, Clem and Shoshana. We all take a bunch of damage and Gral loses concentration on Silence.

The dancers, able to restart the beat since the violinist got the music going again, swing at Valeria and Shoshana. Their strikes distort Shoshana’s sense of space, giving her disadvantage on attack rolls. Luckily, this next spell ain’t one of those.

Shoshana casts Shatter with a deafening BOOM. The dancer and musician save and take less damage, but a couple of those crystals also get hit. They shatter, like, well, crystal. They are resonating crystals, and they vibrate with a high pitched noise for a moment before they burst apart with a glassy CRASSSHHH. Shoshana drops to 0, but as she falls, her eyes go black and she lunges to her feet with a primal snarl, using Strength of the Grave to spookily jump up to 1hp again.

(The DM was absolutely gonna have the Musicians do cool things with those crystals, like shooting spells through them! But no, we made them explode. There’s glass all OVER the floor. Everybody’s gotta wear shoes until we sweep up. Somewhere, Walter White looms.)

Josephine the violinist deflects Clem’s swing with her violin bow – not so much blocking as making the blade warp through space around it. She returns to playing.

Ana the flautist fires 3 more high pitched notes from her flute. Clem’s down. Gral Healing Words her and swings his sickle in at the dancer with a dashing slash that cuts her down. It is extremely anime. He is suddenly in silhouette with the dancer behind, and a blood splatter in silhouette.

The violinist uses a burst of sound to propel herself backwards, the resulting soundwave hitting Clem and Valeria. Ana and Josephine reunite and start playing their music more furiously than ever.

Good, they’re grouped together for AoEs. Shoshana casts Shatter again on poor Lindsey Stirling and her friend. They are both bloodied, and a couple more crystals near them vibrate – one resonates but does not shatter; the other explodes, sending needle-like shards into the musicians. We feel the crystal shards at our feet hum and thrum with the sound.

With a mighty slash, Clem shoves Josephine into the remaining crystal, though she tries to deflect with her bow. Her violin slips from her hands as she falls unconsicous. Ana screams, but Clem is still swinging with her Action Surge. As the flautist turns with rage, her eyes burning, the universe quivering as she is about to unleash some horrible song-storm – Clem, bloody and nearly broken, slams back into her and throws her into the other crystal, silencing the music and the scream.

There is a moment, just a moment, when the music still reverberates in the crystals and the portal remains open – but we know Gral can open the way, and there might be stuff to loot, and we don’t run through.

Valeria gathers crystal bits as the song fades. Gral scotch tapes a flesh hound dangly bit into the Pokedex. Gral also takes the instruments and the remaining sheet music of Opening of the Ways and The Prisoner’s Lament. The violin itself starts to warp into nothingness once Josephine dies, but the strings are shimmering and incandescent and vibrating at strange frequencies. The flute also appears warped but intact. Gral is like, “I could restring my lute with these wacky strings, but this is not an ideal place to do instrument repairs.” He pockets them for later.

Once we’re done looting investigating, we all looook to Gral, very sheepishly. Opening the ways feels weird, but it must be done. He must make a Performance check, though he can expend a spell slot to gain +d6 per spell level. He’s a bard, though, so he rolls a frickin’ 32. We pour through the portal and see the mists are fading rapidly.

As the whole place collapses, we see the corpses of the musicians on the ground. There is a growling sound as a hound comes around the bend, but the mists rapidly fade and its flickering intensifies until it flickers away.

The soft spots are probably not spreading towards the town anymore! Gral takes 6 taint, though, for playing the Spooky Song and directly tapping into the Key’s power.

We find ourselves standing in the ruins of the astronomer’s house. Looking out the windows, it’s night time now. We’re not really sure how long we’ve been gone. (Fifty yeeeaaars! A hovercar flies by! No.)

Valeria gives Shosha four hit points because she is tiiiired, and a few to Clem too.

Now that we’ve left the house and are getting ready to climb back up our rope, those with Darkvision make a perception check. Something small is flying towards us awkwardly, with big ungainly flaps. It’s roughly the size of a wombat. Is it Daikon? No. We put the rune beetle up (We have named it Luxon, a corruption of Alexa). Some weird misshapen bluish creature in a plague doctor mask flaps toward us. It’s Gray the Homunculus!

It flaps up to Gral and croaks, “ALIIIIIVE.” It pulls something out of a pouch with a weird little raccoon hand, taking weirdly precise notes in a small notebook. “RETUUUURNING,” it caws, and leaves.

We’re a little nervous at being out at night, when cursed things come out, but apparently the valley of Holzog is pretty safe when it’s not misty death. We make our way back to the boat, where Gray is waiting for us, and back across the lake. Looks like the people are all holed up in fortresses right now, like they do when there’s mist.

Gray guides us back to the church. The two hulking owl-masked guards are waiting, and lead us to the door of the Sturmhearst University Holzog Annex. The door opens and Prof Quercus is there. “Ahh! Good news, everyone! They’ve returned!” (Thanks, Farnsworth.)

“Please, come inside, come inside! We’ve never seen the mists rise this soon after a previous incursion, or retreat so rapidly. Look at these charts!” They have, indeed, been drawing charts tracking when the mist comes.

“There’s a good chance the mists won’t be coming back for a while,” we tell him. (Insight check: he is disappointed.) “But have we got some stuff to tell you!”

“Oh?” His face would perk up, except he’s wearing a bird mask.

We give him the Pokedex notebook. We have written some of the things we’ve seen, but omitted a LOT.

What we give him, in the notebook:

-The concept of portals to other worlds

-A rubbing of the pattern

-Drawings of the symbols on statue mimic

-A flesh hound tentacle

-The eldritch cookies + thermos of tea

-A description of the guy with too many eyes

-A pamphlet from the glove box

-Basic descriptions of the void

-The twisted crossbow bolt

-The Funko pop from space

-Some of the crystal shards

We do NOT give them any knowledge of the sheet music, the eldritch cookbook, or ANY information on how to open the portals.

Professor Quercus identifies the potions we picked up from the house. They are a Potion of Kill You Quite Quickly (fast-acting poison), a Potion of Heroism, and a mystery potion he doesn’t know what it’ll do. It’s too chaotic. (The DM informs us it makes us roll on the Wild Magic Surge table.)

Time to tally our taint! Clem, Valeria, and Shoshana all save. Gral is clandestinely offered a Deal by the DM, the effects of which are as yet unknown.

We stay at Sturmhearst overnight because it’s, like, Dark out in the Cursewood. None of the folks in bird masks sleep. (*shrugs* Grad students.) They are making a lot of coffee in a fancy coffee machine. The big owl guards are like a foot taller than any of the humans, but never speak and barely move. The grad students ask us questions all night.

Valeria asks them about Druids. Quercus: “We’ve had some interaction, some of our field expeditions have reported wild animal attacks consistent with druidic magic. It can be hard to tell what’s druid magic and what’s just the Curse! Have any actually talked to us? Certainly not, though Professor Williams described how something had written the words Go Away in the dirt and smashed up all his equipment.” (Insight: He is not lying about this, as far as he is aware.)

In the morning, as we step out of the repurposed church, we see a white bird flying toward us. He has a little coat on! He opens his mouth and Darius’ voice comes out. “Hey! We got worried when you were out and the mists came up.” (We were gone 14 hours.)

“Boy, do we have a story for you!”

“Sweet, I’ll make some popcorn. I love popcorn. Oh, that was Daikon talking. Hey Bea! Is it safe to feed Daikon popcorn? Wait, I’m still talking through the bird-”

We walk back to the center of Holzog with Daikon relaying Darius’ questions. Darius himself is letting the Condotierri know to let us through.

“Is there any chance you were exposed to the corrupting influence of the curse?”

Everyone’s like “Um, well, UHHH,” and Shoshana just sighs. “That ship has SAILED for me, my dude.”

“All right, Bea might give you three ladies a once over, the Q-man will look at Gral. We gotta search you for eyeballs, demon runes, you know the drill.” We are promised there will be only mild nudity. Clem and Shoshana are not particularly thrilled with the idea of nudity.

We plan to go on the Mornheim expedition, so the DM has us draw cards from his Dangerous Roads deck for the journey. We draw The Folk, The Harvest, The Outlaws, and The Outlaws again.

We’ll go into more detail about the end of our time in Holzog at the beginning of our next session, but we do check in with Ser Quentin to let him know we’re alive, and that we’re game to go on the Mornheim expedition with him.

He tells us, “Very well. In a couple of days a supply caravan will be leaving for Mornheim. Unfortunately, I will not be able to go to Mornheim with you. I will leave Holzog with you, but Ser Brigid has asked me to report to Holska and explain why one of our best leads on the origin of the Curse is now a corpse.”

We roll Knowledge: History. Ser Brigid König probably refers to the old woman who is the founder and leader of the Cursebreaker Knights. Holska Castle is Cursebreaker HQ. It’s a derelict castle that has had rumors of infestation by vampires/cultists/local legends (mostly vampires) for centuries. There are tons of spooky stories. When the Curse first presented, the first Cursebreakers led by Ser Brigid stormed Holska and turned it into their HQ. No reports of vampires; general assumption is they found the vamps and killed them all, and then had a free castle they could set up in.

We don’t roll well enough to know who she was before the Curse. A knight of the Greatwood, but we’re not sure from where or what origin. High ranked enough that when she sent out the word, a bunch of people answered the call.

We’ll learn more next session.

#session recap #clem haxan #valeria argent #gral omokk'duu #shoshana bat chaya #holzog #The key #professor quercus #quentin morozov #contractor darius

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