#hound of abaddon

[thesixthchaosgod]

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE AND BLACK CRUSADES FOR ABADDON!!!

Hound of Abaddon ready to slay for the Black Legion. These guys are really crisp! I love the extra detailing on the lower part of the chest piece especially! 9 more to go now and these take a bit longer than my normal Black Legionares but the result is so worth it I think

[headmateelevator]

hello again!! may we please have a level two pack (without orientations or front triggers) for this new fragment im trying to flesh out? heres the details it has right now!!

a wolf/dog? the colours blue and grey. fog/mist. water. waves and shorelines. gender is "nothing but with occasional ghosts of fem or masc." seems to like ghosts! and static? and heres bunch of emojis it seems to feel connected to! 🐺🌑💤🔉🐚💧🌊🌫🌧🌥☁️💭🎞📼🔌📺

thank you!! please take as long as you need on this pack!! i love this blog <3 -green anon!!

order up!

name(s) - Canine , Max , Lucy , Daisy , Rocky , Cooper , Canidae , Angus , Callum , Alaska , Terrie , Shepherd , Collie , ace , affen , affie , aidi , airendale , akita , aksaray , Alano , alex , alfie , amarok , amaruq , annie , apollo , archie , arianell , aries , armant , artemis , artois , ash , asher , aurora , badulf , bailey , bandit , barbet , bardou , barkley , basenji , bear , beau , bella , beowulf , biewer , blue , bluey , bolt , boris , boxer , brad , Isaiah , Virgil , Salem , Osiris , Azriel , Theodore , Elias , Oliver , Lukas , Sebastian , Michael , Uriel , Azrael , Abaddon , Castiel , Nathaniel/Nate , Malice , Wolfram , brenard , Boxer , Brittany , Wolf , Gray/Grey , Rex , Forest , Brownie , Kai , Bear , Snow , Snowy , Buddy.

pronouns - they / it / ey / em / er / ers / hy / hyr / hy / hymn / ae / aer / it / that / thing / vae / vaer / se / sim / ny / nym / th-y / th-m / shy / shyr / thy / thym / x / xs / sh* / h*r / shx / hxr / hx / hxm / thxy / thxm / thon / thons / arf / arf / awoo / ba / ball / ba / bark / bark / bite / bo / bone / cae / canine / can / cani / canid / canidae / canin / canine / cha / chase / chew / claw / co / collar / fang / fangs / grey / grim / gro / growl / grr / guard / ho / howl / houn / hound / howl / howl / hunt / lu / lupi / moon / moon / mutt / muz / muzzle / night / paw / protect / ri / rir / ruff / roll / rough / ru/run / ruff/ruff / silv / silver / snarl / star / teeth / walk / wag / wolf / angel / angels / alt / alts / hy / hymns / omen / faith / static / fog / ghoul / spok / ghost / spirit / sea / salt.

gender(s) - neutrois , ANALOGARGIC , ANOMALOTHING , unalimfort , ANALOGENDER , Casiboy , horrorloggender , ☆ » CREEPTHEDRIC , Camtromatos , Monichrine , Horrorslushie , Horrorigender , Horrorfem , Fogforestic , Forestgender , Forestwolfgender , Forestwolfsprintic , Howlgender , Neigean , Nightforfulmoonic , Northwolfic , Noxlibic , Redwoodgender , Sillywolfic , Snowfallgender , Aiaspec , Aingender , Aporagender , Asterfluid , Celestian , Cosmosflux ,

Demineutral , Demineutrois , Eafluid , Galaxian , Gender neutral , Genderflor , Gendersylph , Hydrangeaflux , Nebularian , Neumasc , Snowmoonlic , Snowynightgender , Starforestaesic , Tundrawolfgender , Wolfbitic , Wolfforestic , Wolfgender , Wolfmoonbodiement , Wolfmoonic , Wolforigender , Wolfpawic , Wolfplushigender , Wolfstarmoonic , Wolfthing, Horrormasc , Horrorhoard , Darkhyperfixic , Inhorsycic , Eldhorric , Horrorstorycollectic , Analoghorrorgender , Mascanalog , Femanalog , Analogender , ELDRITCHANALOG , PURIDITIC , altvocaldernic , ALDERNATE , notworthriskquoteic.

role(s) - anchor , sleeper , hygienist , protector , sibling figure.

species - wolf / dog , could be wolf / dog / human hybrid creature if using a humanish face claim or possibly some form of shapeshifter between. ghostkin.

source(s) - brainmade.

emoji(s) - 🐺 , 🌑 , 💤 , 🔉 , 🐚 , 💧 , 🌊 , 🌫 , 🌧 , 🌥 , ☁️ , 💭 , 🎞 , 📼 , 🔌 , 📺.

likes - night walks , taking naps , sleeping , staying clean , swimming , water in general , showers and baths , quiet dark rooms , music , moon themes , analog horror , old movies , the truman show , people x trusts , stretching in the mornings , ghosts , pets.

dislikes - being too hot , having to talk in front of too many people , people vae don't trust , stomachaches , being tired for too long , back pain (especially due to sleeping in the worst possible positions).

personality description - Callum is a rather friendly part , it keeps to themselves oftentimes , but when around someone x trusts arf can be semi-talkative , usually speaking about things such as movies thy recently watched , or old classics they enjoy rewatching often. they also have an interest in analog horror and horror medias in general. teeth often tries to keep to an alright sleep routine , though cani can mess it up easily by taking naps in the middle of the day if star feels like doing so.

faceclaims -

( 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 )

[niqhtlord01]

The Great Git Hunt Part 1: The Death of a Legend

During the turning of the 42nd millennia the universe was to see many upheavals of a galactic nature.

 The 13th Black Crusade finally shattered Cadia and opened the great rift, sundering the universe in two and unleashing innumerable demonic incursions into real space. Tyranid Hive Fleets began appearing more frequently along the entire eastern fringe devouring innumerable worlds and forcing the Imperium to fight tooth and nail for every world to slow the tide of chitin.The Tau launched the Fifth Sphere Expansion while the Imperium’s attention elsewhere and sought to steal several dozen worlds from Imperial control and integrate their populations in the name of the greater good.

Yet the most perplexing, if not confounding, event was to pit two of the greatest warhosts against each other all over the death of one elderly man.

That man was Commissar Sebastian Yarrick.

Dying at the age of roughly 153, the energetic Commissar Yarrick made a name for himself by leading the Imperial resistance against Ork Warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka on the world of Armageddon. Taking for himself the severed arm of an ork warchief he slew in combat to replace the arm he lost, Yarrick would become a nay mythical figure amongst Ork culture and the primary rival of Ghazghkull himself. It was said that the warboss only ever cursed Yarrick; an honor amongst orks for sure. Their rivalry would span nearly a century as the two would fight again during the third war for Armageddon and then far afterwards as Yarrick chased the warboss half way across the universe seeking to end the green threat once and for all.

Many would be safe to assume that with a rivalry so deep between two titans of their peoples that their stories would end with a climatic clash of arms where one would lay dead at the others feet. Yet fate sought to intervene in the cruelest of manners.

While pursuing his eternal foe with a fleet of Black Templar space marines, Imperial Guard, and several warships of the Imperial Navy; Commissar Yarrick was set upon by the newly reformed World Eaters chaos space marines legion led by their demonic primarch Angron.

With the opening of the great rift Angron emerged from the Eye of Terror at the head of the largest force of Khorne worshipers the universe had seen since the Horus Heresy. Angron was not content to follow Abaddon and his mongrels, so set out on his own to leave a path of devastation and slaughter spanning several sectors. Each world his followers set foot upon they would leave in fire with nothing but the hollow skulls of its former inhabitants piled in mile high mounds to watch over them. It was in fact the most recent slaughter on the planet Mori that reverberated throughout the warp so strongly it incapacitated the navigators of Yarrick’s fleet and pulled them out of the warp.

Angron was surprised at the sudden appearance of an Imperial war fleet, but welcomed the new challengers with great relish. The Khorne warships descended upon the imperial fleet like carrion fiends and began pulling it apart piece by piece. The navy fought back with great ferocity but the troop transports were left to fend for themselves as hordes of boarding craft were launched at them, each packed with world eater space marines churning for the coming bloodbath.

With their escape routes blocked and the transport ships in danger, Yarrick ordered the ground forces to land on Mori. It was only on the surface of the planet could the imperial force bring to bear their full might. The landing was hounded the entire way by the ever pressing chaos war fleet with many ships never making the journey, but by the grace of the emperor several made it to the surface and disembarked their forces.

Never one to back down from a massacre, Angron landed on the planet once more and led his legion against the now dug-in imperial forces. Under the leadership of Yarrick, the guard and space marine forces held the unending horde back for seven days and seven nights. Yet by the dawn of the 8th day only Yarrick and a handful of guardsman remained. Angron himself took to the field for the final slaughter and slew the guardsman with ease until only Yarrick stood against him.

Power claw met demonic axe as the elderly commissar matched blow for blow. So assured of his victory, the inability to shatter the crude ork weapon infuriated Angron and his rage furthered him to unleash a flurry of blows. One snuck past Yarrick’s guard and violently severed the commissar’s right arm at the shoulder.

As the arm and power claw fell to the ground Yarrick staggered backwards. His remaining hand tightened around his bolt pistol as blood began flowing from the wound. He looked up and saw the demon primarch looking down at him; mangled and jagged teeth grinning as Angron looked down at him. No doubt the monster expected him to beg for his life, but Yarrick would not.

Spitting out a glob of blood at the traitor, Yarrick brought up his bolt pistol and roared “FOR THE EMPEROR!” one final time and pulled the trigger. A single bolt left the weapon before Angron swung his axe and decapitated the commissar. The bolt struck home against one of the skulls hanging from the primarch’s neck and shattered it; a prized treasure as it had belonged to one of his close comrades back when the primarch had been mortal and a slave in the fighting pits of his homeworld. The primarch took up the severed head of Yarrick and put it in its place around his neck; a sign of honor for a great warrior while the rest of the skulls of the dead imperials were collected and offered to Khorne.

News of this massacre did not reach the wider galaxy for several months until a passing merchant ship picked up the distress signals of the imperial navy that still echoed in the warp. They soon found the lifeless husks of imperial ships floating above the planet of Mori and when they descended to the surface found the remains of the imperial’s last stand as well as a lone ork power claw still stained with demonic blood.

When the merchant ship reported their findings to nearby Imperial authorities an investigation force was dispatched by inquisitorial agents which further discovered the truth of the situation and the death of Yarrick.

Initially, there was hesitance with releasing the information regarding Yarrick. In a time of such chaos, the death of such a notable figure if reported to the wider imperium could trigger further outbreaks of panic. In a rare show of defiance however, the Astra Militarum insisted that it be made public and a large scale military funeral be held and broadcasted imperium wide to turn Yarrick into a martyr and potentially Imperial Saint stating that he chose to die fighting the forces of chaos then be cowed into submission.

Had the Astra Militarum made such demands a few generations earlier the Inquisition would have purged their ranks for such brazen defiance; but since the great rift’s opening they found their position had weakened and they needed the legions of Imperial Guard standing with them than against them. So, the Inquisition relented and the military funeral was held on Yarrick’s homeworld. Despite the great dangers of warp travel, several high lords of Terra made the journey to pay their respects as well as countless Imperial Guard regiments, space marine contingents, mechanicus forces, and even a rare Imperial Class Titan joined the funeral procession.

It was during this period of mourning as news of Yarrick’s death was spread throughout the imperium that it also trickled into the hands of the Imperium’s enemies as well.

Ork freebooters hijacking Imperial ships learned of the news while having fun with their human prisoners. There wasn’t an ork alive that didn’t know of the legend of “Old Bale Eye” and the impressive ork body count he had amassed over the century of fighting. News of his death spread even faster amongst orks than it had with imperials until finally words reached the green prophet himself, Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka.

At first, Ghazghkull refused to believe that anyone but him could have done in his oldest rival. He had fought Yarrick too long and knew that the wily hummie wouldn’t go down so easily. But when a squad of his handpicked Kommandos came back from Mori and presented him with Yarrick’s severed power claw, the green prophet flew into a rage.

The roar let out was so powerful that it reverberated in the warp, silencing nearby warp storms and sending countless ships of all affiliations from the astral tides of the warp back into real space. Not since the war of the beast was an ork roar heard so strongly in the warp from so far away that even the navigators on holy terra itself could hear the anger of Ghazghkull.

From that moment on the greatest warboss of orks the universe had ever seen had a new mission. He would take every ship in his fleet, every gargant and war machine his boy’z made, and every ork boi in his waaagh and he would not stop until he had the head of the one who done in Old Bale Eye and mounted it to the front of his flagship.

The Great Git Hunt, had begun.  

[dailydemonspotlight]

Wild Hunt - Day 127

Race: Night

Alignment: Neutral-Chaos

Evolves into Abaddon [SMT IV, Level 58]

October 15th, 2024

While we've already talked about Dormarth, we haven't touched upon where this hound comes from- that being the Wild Hunt, a common mythological staple in many European mythologies. Of course, the hunt appears in Celtic myth, but it also appears all the same in many other areas, including Slavic areas, Norse myth, and much more; The concept is ultimately timeless, with constant references, and is intrinsically linked to Halloween in many European places- after all, as the time of spirits draws near, the ghosts shall come out for one last hunt, even until the end of time. I wonder if they know the next hunt is scheduled for next year.

The Wild Hunt, as said above, is a common motif throughout many different European mythologies and religions, not just the Norse ones that most people are familiar with. While it does roughly share similar origins in most retellings, as the Scandanavian term for it calls it 'Odin's hunt,' the Wild Hunt does vary greatly across regions in forms of its leaders and popular figures. Our first source for the Wild Hunt's existence is actually one of the earliest pieces of Anglo-Saxon literature we know of, called the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Dating back to the 1100's AD, the text mentions the Wild Hunt, though only scantly- however, it points to the fact that this concept has existed for thousands of years! It may even date earlier than that, as a matter of fact- as purported by Jacob Grimm (a man... rather famous for his unreliability, granted, but it is an interesting theory,) the idea of the Wild Hunt may have its roots in pre-Christian Norse mythology, and could have been connected to a darker side of Odin.

But, I hear you asking, what even is the Wild Hunt? While the specifics change from story to story, the general concept is the same- on a specific date range, typically around Autumn or Winter, a group of spirits would emerge from the underworld (changing based on the mythology, of course,) to perform a great hunt, becoming a massive wind of ghosts that would sweep up anybody unlucky enough to be outside at the time and would end up bringing them to an early grave (or just someplace else) to join the hunt again. This was primarily inspired by the howling winds of late night Autumn, with the cause now attributed to this supernatural event.

Interestingly, the common leader of this phenomenon was typically a God- most of the time, a deity in charge of the hunt would be leading the metaphorical (and literal) pack, such as Odin or, in the case of the Welsh version of this myth that we went over in the Dormarth analysis, Gwyn ap Nudd, the Lord of the Dead. It could also be led by some less deific figures, of course, but it was mostly deities and characters with high relevance and power in the mythos. A great hunting party does need a great leader, after all. Possibly the funniest version of this, though, is recounted in Grimm's paper on it, wherein a hunter known as Hans von Hackelnberg led the hunt- a man who died to, and I shit you not, accidentally stabbing himself on a boar's tusk and dying from the sickness it caused. Somehow, his passion for hunting was so great that, even in death, he refused to go to heaven, instead moving to create the Wild Hunt.

Now, in terms of design in SMT, the Wild Hunt is about as accurate as you can get- a howling wind of several ghosts accompanied by horses and dogs. Funny enough, the dog might actually be a reference to Dormarth? The fact you can have a Wild Hunt and a Dormarth in the same party might indicate that there's two, but I dunno, I'm just talking out of my ass. Still, it's a fun and effective design that captures its essence perfectly. I have no idea why it evolves into Abaddon, though.

[darkfictionjude]

Lorcre

To: Judea, Guardian of the Crossroads, Winged Divinity of the Dark

From: Raven Targaryen, Prince of Abaddon, The Dragon's Third Head, and the Pleasure of Jeweled Golgatha

From now on, the coupling of Lorcan and Imre of the great and lost town of Croun is now known as Lorcre, as Golgathian tradition dictates.

Many of you have likely not heard of Golgatha, the Jeweled Mountain of the East. Oh, but we in Golgatha have heard of you. And when the Great Judea demands, we respond.

Lorcre, the meeting of the two old gods, fused together in unholy bliss, comes from the names of the Twin Old Ones, Lorgos, and Credila. The twin divinities who walk the path between the dead and the living, calling forth the souls of the lost to pass over.

Here in Abaddon, the greatest and the most wretched city of the Jeweled Mountain, we know them as the Guardians of the City.

Credila walks the paths garbed in the most smooth silk. It is said that his starry robes trail after him, woven from the night sky. Entire constellations twinkle on his glimmering dress, and to catch sight of them is to be permanently caught underneath his spell.

He is accompanied by two hounds, always barking and barking, only settled by a wave of his left hand or driven to a bloodthirsty frenzy by his right. He is beautiful, his skin pale and his eyes the most wondrous white. This paleness comes from the fact that he is made entirely of quicksilver, also known as mercury, and to remain in his presence for too long is to poison oneself with the metal's fumes. That is how he brings one more soul across the Veil.

Garbed in starlight, made of poison. Such is the nature of Lovely Credila. To begin worshiping him, one must remain in a Silver Church for thirteen days, breathing in the fumes of the great brazier of quicksilver in the Forbidden Altars deep underneath the city. Only then can his secrets be known...if he deems you worthy.

Lorgos, the opposite of Credila. He is said to take the form of a spider, eight-legged and abominable. He spends his time walking the paths leading to Abaddon, never coming too far to the city. He is rabid, and yearns for the taste of fresh blood.

Unlike Credila, who is dressed in finest starlight, Lorgos roams with black furs stitched from his own webs. He has no companions, but instead will tear you apart with his many, many legs. He has little patience for spinning, and as such will only use webs to bind already immobile prey. It is said that to strike him means death, for he is made of silver and gold underneath his black furs, and no blade may touch him.

He is the Patron of the Outcasts, wreathed in shadow and forged of gold. Those who come across him risk death. To incite his anger is an easy task, for he is always burning with it. A hunger satisfied only by the Hunt. He stalks the lands outside Abaddon, threatening anyone who walks outside the city's walls.

Should you catch his many-eyed attention in the mists outside Abaddon, you must return to the city immediately, no matter the business you are on. And should you not do so, he shall tear you apart and feast on your flesh.

There are no survivors as of now in Abaddon. But there are stories, from the other cities of Golgatha. They speak of crazed souls, driven mad by their encounter, returning night after night to the Mist. What goes on there is kept secret, by the Great Spider's order. He has amassed a cult following of sorts, from what I can tell. Though nobody speaks of what goes on during his rites, even after I stretch them till they break. Even the removal of teeth does not loosen their tongues.

To engage the spider means certain death or a slow descent into madness. One does not seek the spider out. He shall find you. And should his many eyes pause when they settle upon you, should he make even the slightest movement towards you, you are already lost. Given either to death, or to Him.

And how, pray tell, do these twin gods ever engage each other?

Well, sometimes, Credila will leave the city. No one knows why, though theories abound. And sometimes, Lorgos shuns the Mist, burrowing deep underneath the ground. During this time, nobody knows what happens. Only that for thirteen long days, the Earth shall shake, and horrific screams shall erupt from the dark caverns beneath the city.

Poison covered with silk. Gold hidden underneath shadows. Such is the nature of our twin gods, who are highest amongst all, and who walk the paths between the dead and the living. Praise be to them, and glory to those who seek them out.

I’m sorry but I got confused as fuck by like the fifth sentence and remained so throughout all of the rest of this 😭 it might be cause I just woke up

I mean it’s extremely well written but like I lost the thread it’s like when you read a fantasy book but they just plop you in the middle haha

But thank you for this tremendous effort, it’s very detailed

What I managed to get is that you gave Imre and Lorcan a ship name

[celembrindal]

Vashtorr and his hounds hit the field today to collect on some debts from a Great Unclean One. The new Soulforge detachment is everything I ever wanted from a daemon engine detachment. The new codex is awesome and I cant wait to try out a ton of stuff. Abaddon needs to make his debut soon.

[landfilloftrash]

Blood in the Water (part 1 )

***

The blood pounded through her head like a gong. It raced like an exhausted hound, hurt like a bell rung far too many times; it was painful to think or consider anything outside of her radius of boiling rage and desire to destroy.

Calypso yielded. And the image of Abaddon yielding in their fight in her Church, and in that wasteland, that place that could become their world, with the same wide-eyed grimace— a tired, bloodied countenance was such a clear resemblance in her mind that her grip quite nearly faltered on her weapon. It was clearly the same for the vulture himself as he paused in his own attack like someone had frozen time, and then lowered his own weapons of choice and backed-off slowly. 

The silence was so incredibly loud.

But in that silence, they all turned to look towards her.

She did not want to be merciful. It wanted to be kind. She wanted this woman to face retribution for the severity of what she did to its friends. It didn’t want to kill her. She wanted her to learn from this experience of foul deeds and turn a new leaf for the better.

Enososin looked at the bleeding and dying face of a Goddess, brought low by Hades and her crew, and chose the best mercy it could provide; Not personally removing Calypso̸̜͒’s head from her shoulders like Eno’s heart screamed for.

The Blood Cleric was not in the right headspace to condemn anyone; so it bowed towards the crew, and let them choose Calypso’s fate. That was truly as much mercy she could personally provide right now without breaking friend and foes’ eardrums in the process. 

She would face the consequences of whatever choice that would be made. 

But not right now. 

Not like this.

Instead, she marched into the still pouring, but lessening, rain— the dark of the night deepened by the lack of stars burning high over head— with her head held high; determinedly as she made her way to the treeline, and once underneath the trees’ cover of the slowly stopping rain, she removed the hat that sparked the timber of her ember’d heart into a raging inferno—

And just like that, the forest fire was once more banked into a simple campfire; it was manageable again.

She stood there, almost blankly staring into the stormy seas, lightly holding the hat near its chest. Calming, ever so slowly; a tempest could be brewed in a moment, but the settling of the seas— that powerful force— took a mite longer with its size. Ever so briefly though, she felt a feeling of flowing relief at the mere sight of the Red Dragon in her disguised form as the Ad Astra on the seas in the cove. It was about to start moving towards Her, before reality truly hit her.

The cleric should be far more invested in what happened to that woman right now, instead of listlessly standing outside trying to assemble coherent thoughts. She should be amongst them advocating for Calyp̵͇̓̿͜s̴̞͛o̸̜͒’s yielding and, in turn, her right to be spared. Because C̵̥̾̆͜ȁ̴̢̫̋l̶̳̥̚͝ÿ̴̫͖́p̵͇̓̿͜s̴̞͛o̸̜͒  was being judged by her cohorts right now; it was being decided whether or not they were going to kill a Goddess, for brainwashing Kallstrom and Ulysses, for making them fight and hurt each other to get their mental states back to rights, and then turning one of the crew into her dinner.

God.

Oh, God.

She barely refrained from bursting into frazzled tears at the mere thought.

Even for that small amount of time for her, maybe six to ten minutes in total— not nearly as long as it felt in that stretch of time that made every second tick by like hours— Abaddon was dead a mere fifteen feet in front of her. 

No, not even just dead, because that was far too kind a word– vivisected– gutted open like a damned fish— cooked like a common meat, and presented perversely on a plate by a lying Goddess with too damn little to do other than torment whomever it was on her island.

Claim her too soft, too much of a bleeding heart, claim it too trusting, too naïve, too stubborn, claim her anything of the sort— but she had made a promise to him. A promise, to Abaddon, someone it truly wished to be able to call a friend, to protect him from whatever would come his way and hurt him. 

And she had been staring at his body cooked to eat.

She wanted to start screaming. Scream until its throat bled and scream some more. She wanted to fall to her knees in relief and praise God and every god that would listen to a blood clerics' prayers. It wanted to start sobbing until her eyes fell out of her skull. Instead she leaned heavily against the tree next to her.

Her head hurt.

After a couple more seconds of letting her mind fray, she drew the barest scraps of will that she had to assemble coherent thoughts once more– which finally got her moving enough to put her hat once more into its robes before once more hugging herself in a self soothing way.

She was barely even scratched— that beam of magical energy directed at it doing more to rile her rather than truly hurt— but gods. She felt like it had been through a rigorous bout with the entirety of her former class against her; mental energies scattered like mice at the sound of a prowling housecat, and her physical body trembling with energy itching to be used in a destructive manner.

It purposefully closed her eyes and clutched at her crucifix settled on her breastbone beneath its layers.

‘Thank God,’ was a simple refrain, and it was repeated on loop in her head. ‘Thank God, thank God, thank God.’

As she reopened her eyes she breathed out slowly. Everything was ok. It was ok. Everyone was alive. No need to have any sort of breakdown. It was alright.

“Hgh,” it complained to the open sea and sky.

Before much could be done or said to either of the mirrors; A flash of something different entered her periphery as she stood there, and caught its attention— turning its head questioningly in apprehension. 

A tall, paleish-dark, robed, prosthetic limbed bearded vulture of an Aarakocran had exited the cave looking vaguely thoughtful, and she felt her chest tighten in relief.

Abaddon.

All thoughts were tossed out into the sea as she hiked up her robe a smidgen, and sprinted over at full tilt— tackling him full force into as gentle a hug as she could manage with all that was happening, using her wings to catch them both to stop them from crashing into the earth.

Thank God. “AGHK,” she heard squawked out from within its grip, “MY ʙᴏɴᴇs. ᵀᴴᴱʸ’ᴿᴱ ᴿᴱᶠᴼᴿᴹᴵᴺᴳ.”

Oh shit. It let go like she had been burnt and raised its hands in apology, backing up ever so slightly to give the poor man some room, “Sorry! Sorry!”

Good job Eno, just– absolutely destroy the man’s rib cage. And spine. Perhaps the scapula for good measure?? Not like he needs them anyways, by the heavens. She sighed in amused resignation as she continued her tiny internal tirade. Not everyone can withstand the full force of that sort of affection like your father can, their bones will crack; you have to remember that.

He exhaled and rubbed at his chest, eyeing her with incredulous amusement. “Good lord, woman.”

Enososin gently waved its hands in a slight jazz hands movement as she continued to display her apologies for a couple more seconds, despite its smile at the fact he didn’t seem to hold it against it.

Letting its hands fall to her side was a mistake however, seeing as it felt the extreme need to fidget with something, and her robe and cloak were the only things within grabbing range; she was very aware that the movement made it look like a scolded school child, so it simply bore the rising urge with a sense of discomfort as she waited for the other man to set the tone for the conversation.

“I am going to go rest, somewhere;” Abaddon continued after a moment, peering around the island’s beach and off into the trees. “I highly doubt there are any more possessive goddesses on this island?”

If there was, Enososin was simply going to deign this island cursed for any who decide to step foot on these sands. That was simply too much for one island. Save some for the rest of your fellow landmasses. 

But that wasn’t the reason her voice was stuck in its throat for a second longer than it had.

Taking a brief second longer to viciously pull her voice back from the depths, it gestured amicably towards the Red Dragon, resting in the bay. “I would recommend getting on board, at the very least.”

Abaddon took a moment, head shifting ever so slightly as he peered at the ship with consideration. “In honesty,” he clacked, with an amused eye flick back towards her, “despite the current… dislike, I have for this place, being on land is quite nice.” She chuckled in acknowledgment and nodded in agreement. As much as it was discontented with the island, and missed the now comforting onomatopoeic boards that spoke to Her crew in the only way She could, it was very nice to have firm ground that reminded her that it was not all tossing waves under her claws. “That is– That is honestly fair.”

“Besides,” he waved off, “your ship does not enjoy my presence.”

A small chitter in disagreement. “I don’t think she enjoys….” 

She paused ever so briefly as it tactfully tried not to say, ‘people of factions that have probably frequently gone against Her and tried to destroy Her on many occasions. Especially considering Her reaction to the naval officers and the decorations Kallstrom strung up.’ 

“...Many presences.�� She finished succinctly.

“Me and Kallstrom.”

She hissed out another quiet laugh. “To not to put too fine a point on it, in regards to our current company but… regardless…”

The silence settled once more like a soft blanket within the night. It was broken again by Abaddon reaching over and patting her on the shoulder and letting it lay there for a moment. “Get some rest.”

The cheek of this man. She grumbled softly. “You first.”

“No– I’m ol– I’m the eldest,” he gestured with his removed hand, pointing like he was giving a lecture, “I have to keep watch.” Closing her eyes for a brief moment to refrain from either giving him an absolutely incredulous look or start giggling uncontrollably, Enososin had to truly gape at the gall of the man to use the ‘I’m the eldest’ card. Of all things. Saying that while there was a vampire, and a sentient ship with the soul of a dragon was such a bold-faced statement that she couldn’t help it. The sheer cheek involved in the statement nearly had her in a giggling fit by itself.

“You went through more than us today,” she asserted as it reopened its eyes with a more serious set to her face, feathers fluttering slightly as she shook off the remnants of the hysteria threatening to overflow, “I think you need rest first.”

“All I did was die,” he protested, “I got plenty of rest.”

Her voice was a little shaky as she gave him a slightly incredulous look. Surely, he saw the dichotomy of those two statements, at least from its point of view? “My point exactly.” 

“It wasn’t that bad actually,” he started, and then backtracked with a small shake of his head. “I mean. The whole being murdered part wasn’t all that great,” he joked, a couple of raised blinks and tilt of the head belying the severity of it. 

(“That was.. The most pain I’ve felt in a long time..”)

“But, the underworld was nicer than I expected. Everyone expects eternal flaming damnation but no, it was…” he paused, the introspection back in full force, “cold… dark… And.. spacious. Like a cavern, but without..” He squinted in deliberation. “Echo? ..Hard to describe.” “Without the acoustics,” she quietly joked.

“Yes,” he mused, a small look of amusement stealing across his face before he continued quite seriously. “I remember facing judgment, and then I was going to go somewhere… I can’t remember where… Right as they were about to pass their final decision, I got pulled back.”

“Mm,” she hummed, tapping her claws on her beak gently in thought— connecting the two timelines together in her mind. That made sense. He was gone for far longer than the others, and with how much time had passed between the initial claim, and… and their refinding of him, it would track that a judgment would have been able to be called.

It wasn’t going to ask. He said he didn’t remember, then he didn't remember. Besides, this sounded more like a court hearing to decide where the soul went rather than the actual true afterlife; a familiar system, at the very least.

But she couldn’t deny that she was curious as to what judgment had been about to be made.

He sighed again, once more looking quietly thoughtful. And maybe even a bit wry as he hummed, “I suppose I owe Hades a thank you.”

Oh yes, that did remind her; someone should tell him. “That– yes, him and Soleil, actually.” The silence that fell was brief, but it was thick in the disbelief that was directed at her in a singular look. “You’re telling me that she, the one who has threatened me from day fucking one, was the one who wanted me back?” She nodded; minutely but earnestly. 

“I came back– inside..” its eyes flicked upwards towards the heavens, having spotted them pop back into existence earlier, but not having the wherewithal to truly see them. They were also fine; back where they belonged. “When the stars went out, all at once.”

The man blinked down at her in surprise and turned his own gaze to the stars for a moment, as if expecting them to nod in agreement– and with how stars were, it wouldn’t doubt the contrariness of them to do just that, for some inexplicable reason. 

“Hhuh…” he breathed, head tilting in curiosity, clearly working something through. “How strange.”

Eno patiently waited a few moments for him to collect his thoughts before prompting. “How so?” she hoo’d at him in interest.

“Well,” he began, another look of amusement crossing his face and tone, but a touch more grim within the gallows of it, “I wonder if she did it for you or for me.”

. . . Ah. 

(Soleil’s eyes on her as it excused itself from the cave, mind a jumble of horror and sorrow; refusing to let the Goddess see that.)

It had not thought.. 

Truly, the thought had never really crossed its mind that it might’ve been for her. In its own mind, it was a bit difficult to think of anyone trying to do that for her— the revivification of an entire person, someone the others clearly didn’t put full trust into. Something she completely understood, but didn’t choose to subscribe to. 

But… 

It was out of her mouth before her brain had a moment to catch up to it all.

“Can it not be both?” Another silence. Even shorter than the last but no less thick with the refusal to suspend disbelief at her quietly prodding tone. “It is almost never both. Don’t tell me you’re that naïve.”

She let out a bit of a strangled laugh at the question, but let it taper off gently. It was either that or cry, to be honest, and laughter was far easier in her experiences. Ohh, how many times was she going to hear that in her life? It had encountered the phrase at least twice today, and it was not interested in counting the times it had been quietly hurt by the refusal of her fellows to see the world as something to make kinder. 

“I’m not–” she chuckled into the break, shaking her head a bit ruefully, “‘that naïve’, as you say, but I am that hopeful.” It tucked its hands into her robes and gripped at its arms, digging her claws through feathers, hiding the gesture within the fabric as she continued softly. “I think there’s… I think there’s enough of a difference between the two, that I can make that assertion.”

That being said, Enososin let her head wander, because she would be lying if it didn't say that the thought hadn’t crossed her own mind. The cleric was aware that it did possess naïvete, but that often tied in well with encountering new situations; it learned as it went, and it did actually learn the stakes of it all rather quickly, even if it was blindsiding. Being naïve was about not having that wisdom, knowledge, or experience; walking into things blind. Some people kept themselves that way. Hope, on the other hand, was the opposite face, but the same coin; it was having that knowledge and experience to know something was horrible, and walking in anyways. Hope was a damnable thing, something with teeth and claws that snarled and refused being kicked down for long. 

It was a dandelion growing from between bricks in a wall.

“..Why aren’t you the captain?”

She burst out in a startled trill of laughter– it felt far more genuine this time, easing her chest as it bubbled out. It was such a hard left from the conversation at hand, but she could see the etchings of the directions his thoughts took as she giggled a bit. “Uhm,” she chirped intelligently, “As much as I would, maybe? Take the wheel— especially if asked of me, I — would rather not step on anyone’s toes in regards to… specifically taking authority.”

Her eyes instinctively flickered to the cave behind Abaddon with apprehension. She didn’t believe that either of the Naval Admirals would do anything to harm her if she decided to take up the actual mantle, but it was far easier in the long run for her to advise and caution from beside someone than taking charge and inciting possible reasons for severe discontent. 

Eno would honestly prefer if they all had an equal say in what they as a crew were to do, and not just rely on a singular person to command. Rubbed her the wrong way. Which was exactly why she could never be a part of any military.

“I am a priest. Not a–” she gestured a bit insouciantly, “not a naval captain.”

“Neither is Ulysses,” the cultist countered, “yet he still drives the ship well all the same.”

“I do remember him mentioning he was an actual captain at one point,” she gently mused conversely.

Abaddon shook his head. “Becoming a captain is of no ceremony, truly, it doesn’t matter what..” he paused momentarily and considered, before gesturing flippantly, “It doesn’t matter what faction you lie under. What matters is that you can.. lead folk. And despite Gaura’s efforts, you’re the one keeping us all alive and in line.”

My ability to keep the peace between people truly not so different from one another didn’t stop you from being killed, dearheart.

There was a momentary flash of something on his face, too fast for her to truly register or recognize, before he continued resolutely. “Do you see what it is you are holding on your back?”

With a couple surprised blinks at the turn in questioning, she instinctively turned her head to look behind her back, despite knowing exactly what was attached to the place in between her wings.

What she knew to warm her hands like a cup of sunshine, and gleamed in the night with its swirls and designs, was a hammer that belonged to a man she trusted more than life itself.

“That is the hammer of Saint Rollo,” he asserted, “That thing has killed hundreds of my fellows. And even more vampires.”

Papa…

The fact that she didn’t have to censor its own thoughts about the fact that man was absolutely her Father did funny things to the small child that lived in her heart. Presently, she hoped he was safe; sound. Cared for. She’d also pray for happiness, but even she knew when it was pressing its luck in certain departments, so she’d settle for being content at the very least. But even all of that didn’t set aside the ever-present worry for him that had only ever gotten stronger as it got older. 

Especially as of late. 

But firstly, it had faith, and it knew that its father could damn well handle himself if put into any sort of tight spot. Letting its hand slide through its tucked wings and gently gripping the hammer in assurance had a small inaudible chime zip through her before settling once more into a soft little hum. For a weapon, it certainly had a warm tone in her hold, making her eyes crinkle a little in delight; contrary usage of terms always did. 

It might also be the hysteria from the entire day speaking, but she thought it rather funny that upon being presented with a bloodied fact about the actions of the Father, her first thoughts turned to hoping her papa was safe and well. 

“That weapon has never belonged to someone on the sideline,” Abaddon continued, pulling her from its fondness, “It never belonged to someone who isn’t capable of wielding it. And in order to be capable you have to be responsible.” “You are both of those things.”

“..I damn well try to be.” She exhaled quietly. 

Being responsible wasn’t the hard part; it was balancing responsibility with her morals that truly made her stumble. After all, what would she do if she was eventually forced to deal with someone unwilling to talk, and dead set on hurting those she swore in its heart to protect? Someone that even on death’s door would be willing to get themselves killed to take the world down with them? 

Those sorts of questions had often dogged her tail feathers, simply by being a question that she might have to deal with as a blood cleric, but now their fangs were far sharper in the light of recent events.

She never had been as fond of wolves as much as her fellows.

Abaddon’s next words echoed her quietness. “..You do well.”

It decided that arguing that point was rather moot, since he seemed convinced of it in his words. Or at least acted like it. Either way, it knew when to concede as she lost an argument. “..Next time..” it muttered, shaking its head before looking him in the eye, pointedly. “Go with a buddy, would you?”

“I was simply scouting for food,” he complained, tilting his head at her. “Buddy system.” “Buddy system is a great way to have betrayal.” He countered wryly.

“It is also a good way for someone to report back,” she emphasized with a pointed clack, “whether you are hurt or incapacitated.”

He made a small noise of discontented disagreement, but nothing aloud. 

She just continued looking at him.

And then he huffed. “Fine. Maybe. We’ll see.”

A smile stole her eyes as it breathed out in a chirr. “I very much appreciate it.”

It sighed out another breath to try and exercise the remaining anxieties out of its system. But they remained, stubborn as herself, and it gave in to the urge to ask one more pertinent question lingering on her tongue. “Other than that… you are.. Alright?”

There was a considering pause. The conversation had been full of them, but this one felt heavier to her. He reached and felt at the new, bright streak of feathers on his chest. “...I don’t know,” he confessed, “But… my heart doesn’t ache.”

“Oh,” she quietly hoo’d in surprise. Eno remembered him mentioning that the arm he wore was connected to his heart in a way to be able to use magic. It was quite fascinating, to be honest. To learn that it had been putting undue stress on the organ shouldn’t have been the surprise it was, to be honest, but it still blind sided her; just a smidgen. “That is a bonus then.”

A bonus from an entire resurrection of body and soul could not provide everything, however. “But.. if you.. Do need anything..” she looked up from the white streak, “Don’t wait until it gets worse. Ok?”

“If I were to do that.. If I were to wait…” he looked away. 

“Things would go wrong.”

The dread that statement brought her did nothing to ease the need to toss a medkit at him. Miss Mara, the insane amount of mother henning you have instilled into me. Stamping on the pressing desire to wrap the entire crew in multiple shielded layerings, she tilted her head in acknowledgement as it worked around the need to mother hen as best it could. “Then we’ll keep an eye on it.”

He groaned– the sass that had been missing for most of the conversation returning with blazing force, rolling both eyes and head as he snapped; “Stop fussing over me!”

“I’m allowed to fuss!” she laughed, nearly indignantly at the presumption she wouldn’t.

“Go!” he pointed before gesturing dramatically to the cave, “To your crew! I am fine. I promise.”

Enososin could only outwardly roll her head in mimicry of rolling her eyes in response to his drama, but internally she conceded the fact that it had been quite pushy, he was a grown adult who had been dealing with it for most of his life, and it would be for the best to back off. 

It was simply a matter of trust. 

“Alright,” she sighed, verbally giving ground with an amused dip of her head.

Before it completely walked off, it gently grabbed one of Abaddon’s hands and squeezed gently— passing him as she did, so it was only a brief press—but before she was able to drop it and give the man his space, he gave it a squeeze back. She could only smile to the ground as she headed back to the cave.

He hadn’t needed to do that. That had been kind.

As she once more approached the cavern she caught the tail ends of Kallstrom describing some sort of bomb– she couldn’t quite tell from the ricochetting echo, messing with each other— and instead ran into Ulysses at the entrance.

Straight into an extremely disgruntled Ulysses, nonetheless. “Kallstrom is making lewd remarks about the bullet in my gut.”

The what. “The what?”

“Oh—!” He seemed genuinely surprised at her startled question as he backed up back into the cave with her; “Were you not told that he shot me?”

She turned her head towards an unphased Kallstrom— or more accurately, a very well masked Navy Admiral. “You shot him??”

“Uhm,” without giving the tiefling much time to respond for himself, Ulysses seemed very intent on clearing up the situation, “Well, yes he did, back when I got fried to a crisp.”

“Ok wait–” She sputtered. Fried to a crisp. Right. Yes. Before their.. It wasn’t even fair to call it a fight, but their ‘fight’ with the Goddess, she had healed the group of a series of injuries. Including but not limited to a rather severe pattern of burns upon a few of them. “Yes I saw that— I saw that part— I didn’t— It did not process that you got shot in the gut??”

“I also had not processed that I had been shot in the gut,” he commisserated, while the rest of the cave was seized by a fit of giggling.

What. “How do you not process you getting shot in the gut?”

“Well,” he gestured, to himself and his singed clothing, “I was more processing that I got turned into a human marshmallow.”

“It was also given by a good shot,” chimed the very smug tiefling. Suddenly everyone’s voices started clamoring for attention; All noises were quickly becoming overlapping as the cave echoed and caused several different versions of conversations around it to enter its ear.

“Oookay,” she soothed, smoothing her clothes for a brief moment and peered at Ulysses critically; “Is it—?” She looked around his back at his shirt and vest. No hole.

That’s a problem. It tried not to say as much. “Okay.” Ulysses seemed to catch the tone of her voice pretty well, however, because he quickly fell into a ramble; “I was not sure if your magic would just automatically remove the bullet–?”

“That’s not how that works,” she cut off with slight distress.

Kallstrom spun with a victorious light in his eyes towards Ulysses; teeth bared in a semblance of a grin. “I FUCKING TOLD YOU!”

“I don’t know??” Ulysses cried, both to her, the laughing admiral, and the distressed party members, “I don’t know about healing magic, Eno, I’m not the cleric!”

Janglin made a silly show of mimicking Ulysses with one of his many voices. “I don’t know how this magic stuff works!?”

“That’s– It’s fine, I’m just–?” Honestly she couldn’t fault him, but even she felt like this would be more of an unspoken knowledge? Magic wasn’t a cure-all, after all. Nonetheless, she went for reassurance. “Ok; here’s the quick rundown on how healing magic works. It heals the wounds– whatever it may be— but it does not remove-? If you have a projectile in there it does not remove that; I know this because I have personal experience with this!”

Getting pieces of glass lodged in one’s sides, feet, and hands and then using the little healing magic you and the frightened peers know so no one would notice ended up with crying in pain for the next couple of weeks. Not healthy in the slightest.

“So you healed the wound around the bullet?”

“Yes! You have a bullet in your gut now.” Her voice got higher pitched as she considered her options. “Do you want me to remove that??”

“Don’t worry,” Kallstrom chimed in showmanly, tail swishing in clear amusement, “you’re undead!; you can’t get lead poisoning!”

“This is true?” she hedged, but at the sight of Ulysses ears flattening she quickly continued with her questioning, “But? Would you– for the sake— do you want that out?”

“Kallstrom,” he lamented, distress mounting, “I would rather not have a bullet in my gut?! I feel like that would cause problems later on down the line?”

“Thinkin’ ‘bout the long term here guys!” Janglin chimed with an unrecognizable nervous man’s voice as a series of feminine giggles were attempted to be stifled. 

“I have plenty of bullets in me!” Kallstrom protested. As if that was literally any better.

Dear God in Heaven. “Do you want those out???”

“Well,” Ulysses continued, locked into banter with the admiral, “that is because you are a freak, Kallstrom.”

“No, I've been shot about–?” His head tilted ever so slightly sideways as he looked to the ceiling in remembrance for a brief second; “Sixteen times! I’m fine.”

“I don’t think I’ve been shot before and I don’t think I’m about to start now.” Soleil hummed, her eyebrows raised ever so slightly at the back and forth between the two men.

“Would you like to?” came the weirdly earnest, but quiet question from Kallstrom as voices bounced off each other.

“No thank you.” Soleil replied, voice nor face showing an ounce of perturbation. Eno didn’t know if that was because the woman found him quite interesting (obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t still be standing here) or was very good at masking it. Probably a bit of both.

But with all of that came a very quiet realization as she muttered to itself. “Oh. Is part of his insanity lead poisoning?”

“That could possibly be it, that would explain it.” Ulysses muttered back as she heard Soleil stifle a snorted laugh. “Would explain a lot, actually,” Janglin nodded. This cave’s acoustics were a lot more powerful than she realized. 

“I assure you I have no such thing as lead poisoning,” Kallstrom confirmed the power of the echo with a wave of his hand. Then he pointed in consideration to his last comment. “Now. Addiction to opium; That one we cannot rule out.”

“Either way,” Ulysses shook his head over a chorus of aborted laughter, “I think you need help in some way shape or form.”

“Tell that to my therapist,”  Kallstrom snorted derisively.

“You have a therapist???”

“One,” it chimed, trying to drag the conversation back to the original topic as another uncontained combination of a snort and a laugh came from Janglin, “do either of you want the bullets out of your guts? Two—” “Yes I would like the bullet out of my gut!!” Ulysses crowed, spinning on heel to once more face her.

“Ok–!” it laughed at the immediate response. Gods, it was always the silly ones.

“Are you sure?” Kallstrom asked, sidling closer; the sharpness of his grin belying the concerned tone, “It’s a permanent memento!” “I would not like to have any metal balls inside of me.”

There was a brief, extraordinarily poignant silence as Kallstrom’s mouth started twitching violently. “Heh hheh. Heh, heheh, hrhehhaeheh.” 

“No— no,” Ulysses denied to the sound of Kallstrom’s continued laughing, that in less than a moment had descended into mad cackles, joined by a familiar bloodhunter’s chortles, “you’ve been around Pepper for far too long.”

“The five days we’ve been together have not been long enough for that,” she chirruped in amusement. 'More than likely the Navy, or he simply had that sense of humor', it thought.

“That’s what she said! That’s what she said!” Janglin cawed in delighted laughter.

“I was like this long before Pepper, boy,” Kallstrom grinned derisively. He tilted his head and struck a slightly contrapposto pose as he crossed his arms in amusement; “I grew up in the Navy! You think I’m not a damn sailor~?”

“No wonder you’re so fruity,” Pepper teased, chuckling behind their hand with a twinkle of mischief in their eyes.

Kallstrom looked over towards Pepper, looking vaguely amused as he was resigned about what he was about to say next. “I’ve seen a man thirst over an octopus,” he deadpanned.

“That. Was not something we needed to know.” Ulysses’ ears tilted downwards as his face morphed into one of disgusted appallment.

A brief moment of consideration. “Not the worst thing to thirst over.” 

“Pepper!”

“No, definitely not the worst choice in the sea, to be honest,” it nodded in agreement.  “Eno!!” She heard Kallstrom mutter to himself as everyone began to agree with the man’s choice of sea-lust; “I think he got married to that octopus.”

Soleil chimed in helpfully; “They are very good conversationalists!” 

“Oh, good heavens.”

“I think he died a year later.”

“Well, at least he died doing something he loved,” Pepper muttered with an amused eyebrow raised back.

“I’m going back to the ship.”

Ulysses, upon this solid declaration, turned upon booted heel and started to speed walk straight out of the cave. There was a brief murmur of conversation as they all collectively watched him march directly into the ocean, ignoring any sort of attempt at floating or trying to swim, and disappearing without a bubble beneath the waves.

“I don’t think that’s going to help with the bullet problem he has,” Soleil mused, her fins twitching. 

“It wasn’t that serious,” Pepper agreed with mirth. 

“I assure you all! He’ll be fine,” Kallstrom waved off. “Vampires are notoriously hardy. Despite poignant weaknesses.”

‘Thank you, Sunshine, for shedding some light on that’, it teased within, and light-heartedly sighed outward. 

“I do think he’s got the correct idea though,” Pepper gestured. “It is rather late. And it has been… quite a day.”

“A day! A day! A hurting day!” came an amalgamation of voices from their resident sun parakeet Kenku— who upon her closer inspection, looked rather rough despite staying near the back in the brief bashing.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, and let the dregs of magic still held in her chest spread out of her hands as she began to heal the group with special attention to the man’s bleeding leg. “Do remind me to teach you a healing spell or two, won’t you Janglin?”

He beamed up at her with a nod and quick push and pull of his accordion. At least someone was absolutely unbothered by the events of today.

“I am rather tired,” Soleil mumbled, sounding a cross between simply exhausted and done with the shenanigans of today. 

“Well, then at the risk of sounding quite demanding;” it sighed, unfolding herself from its crouched position by Janglin, “may we please leave this damnable cave.”

Kallstrom eyed her from beside Janglin and nodded; sauntering out with an eye out on the waves— paving the way for the meandering lot of them to tiredly pad along to.

Letting herself get pulled along to the gravitational pull of the crew, it let itself turn off a few brain functions. Ough. It rubbed its face a bit tiredly. Her head still bothered it. But was it the emotions of today or was it something else?

Realizing they were coming to a stop, she pulled her attention back to the conversation at hand, and realized she’d missed a couple things.

“..think you can just get me to go in there with you, you are incredibly incorrect,” Kallstrom hissed.

“A shame,” Soleil shrugged with aplomb, part way into the water and clearly no threat taken from his fiery tone, “I hadn’t realized you were too scared to be beaten by a pirate.”

His eye very visibly twitched. Ah. She meant to provoke him into a race, by the way he was suddenly shucking off his coat and weapons; things that would drag him down. Well, it would be entertaining to see.

“Well,” he bared his teeth in another mimicry of a smile, “I would never turn down the opportunity to knock you pirates down a peg leg or two.”

“Would you like me to give those back to you on the ship?” Eno questioned, gesturing at the man’s affects as he began to approach the water.

“Yes, yes, of course,” the man absentmindedly agreed; he was lost in the challenge already. “Don’t lose them.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” it mused and backed off as the sea rushed to meet boot and feather alike.

“Squire!” Kallstrom barked, marching calf deep into the sea foam to stand alongside Soleil, “Give us our mark.”

Janglin looked around–  realized he was the squire, and then looked back up towards her, feathers flattened in confusion.

“He means for you to give them the countdown and then ‘go’,” she whispered, causing Pepper’s hand to fly to their mouth in an attempt to smother a laugh.

Janglin nodded with slight hesitancy and began counting. “One, two, three, four, five..”

Oh dear. Both Soleil and Kallstrom turned their heads towards Janglin in anticipation. Eno couldn’t refrain a small chuckle and quickly bent back down towards Janglin as he continued counting. “Janglin, I think he meant for you to say ‘go’ after three. Say it after ten instead.” 

Janglin’s eyes widened in understanding and he nodded in determination– for what reason, she didn’t know, but she let the fired up Kenku take the lead; “..nine, ten; GO!”

And both tiefling and sea elf dove into the froth of the water with breakneck speed.

“Go Sol!” Pepper cheered.

For the first 30 yards there was a clear lead— Sol only very briefly holding that until Kallstrom had gotten his momentum; the next 50 were absolutely astounding as Kallstrom fiercely kept up with Soleil’s natural grace in the sea.

What happened next was equally if not more astonishing as the tiefling began to speed up. How? Well, Kallstrom let out something that was simultaneously a war cry and a scream she could only guess at classifying, before fire burst from his feet and hair— propelling him forward those last few dozen feet ahead of Soleil like a cannonball launched from a ship— and then slammed into the side of the ship with an audible thud, even to normal ears, if Pepper’s startled lean back was anything to go by.

He then started clambering up the side of the ship like the sirens had only a day prior with a clearly bewildered and fascinated Soleil swimming closely on his heels.

With its hand over her mouth Enososin continued to be and more baffled by this odd tiefling. The heavy pull at the corners of its mouth told her that she’d like to continue seeing the insanity in action, though.

“That!” she laughed, “Was not something tieflings normally do.”

Pepper just looked up at her briefly with a wild look in their eye. “Absolutely not.”

“Think we should join them now?”

“Well,” Pepper shrugged, gesturing in disbelief at Kallstrom flopped up on the ship, “we have our winner! I don’t see why not!”

The owlin laughed and then realized something as it turned its head down to Janglin. “Do you need assistance, by the by, Janglin?”

“Oh!” Pepper realized, turning to the Kenku, “That’s right. Eno’s got a hold on those weapons right now. But I could carry you if you need a wing or four.”

Janglin looked between them both and signed a <<Thank you>> and then shook his head. With a cry of a word, the cloak he wore shifted into wings and lifted himself up into the air with a playfully twist. “Ah!” Eno mused, clipping the weapons to herself as to not drop them; “He’s got it covered then.”

“Should’ve guessed,” Pepper grinned, spreading their own wings and flapping up to hover beneath the Kenku, “Bards always have something up their sleeve.”

“Indeed,” she hummed, unfurling her wings with a small pop in her back muscles, “Now, I apologize to cut and run, but I have some weapons to return.”

With an easy push with her wings, she quickly zipped across the short oceanic distance between the beach and the ship, leaving the mothkin and Kenku trailing after her draft, and paused by a tired looking Soleil; still in the water.

“Would you like a hand up, my dear?”

Soleil looked up at her with a glassy sheen to her eyes and reached up with grabby hands; “Yes, please.”

Enososin could only chuckle in fondness a little bit. Going up to gain some momentum, she tilted herself downwards as she came back for Sol. Grabbing Soleil’s forearms, she tugged her full force out of the water with a small, ‘alley-oop!’’ before catching her in the air, arms wrapped securely around her, and held her as she flew a bit upwards and onto the deck of the ship. 

After setting Soleil down with a gentle slide, she peered at the rapidly drying Admiral and back at the incredibly amused Soleil. Nothing about the woman’s sleepy expression had changed, but her tail was swishing in wide, slow sweeps; restrained.

“Good race,” Soleil congratulated, brushing herself off, “Didn’t think you’d win, to be honest.” “Never..” he panted, “Challenge.. A Naval man… to something… he will not lose.”

“I’m honestly surprised you beat me,” Soleil hummed in place of simply ignoring his exhaustion, her tail swishing tiredly. “Even tired I usually can outswim a landlubber. Good job.”

“Landlubbing indeed,” he laughed out, “I have a preference of the sea to land.”

“No,” Soleil drew out, “I couldn’t tell.”

A short bark of laughter emerged from the slightly slumped man, and then the tiefling pushed himself off his knees with a swish of his own tail as he brought himself back to military-perfect attention; slicking his hair back into a vaguely tamed form of what it normally was. After she was sure he wouldn’t take her approaching as a sneak attack, it drifted over to him, unclipping the weapon belts off of her to return to Kallstrom. His eyes glinted as he snatched him back, and then a brief nod to her. 

‘Well, at least he wasn’t shooting her head off about it’, she chuffed a laugh at the thought and gave a small bow back.

Pepper landed on the deck with Janglin a brief couple seconds later, both bemused and checking on a water-logged Ulysses who loudly questioned the events that had just taken place. 

Letting herself drift slightly away from the main group, chattering and gently bantering— if definitely not quietly— and it was simply pleased to watch over them. The twisting knot of anxiety being lessened by the hundreds of thousands of stars above, once again twinkling merrily in the ink of the shifting sky; lighting up her world as one of the crew said something particularly egregious.

Tonight, Eno wouldn’t be able to go through the pantheons as it normally would in prayers, so she simply dipped her head and held her crucifix tenderly as it murmured small thanks for the time she’d been incapacitated and made it back onboard The Red Dragon.

There was another that she had enough energy to remember and sent a gentle thought in that direction as she reached into her pocket instead. ‘Thank you, Hades.’ She mentally whispered.

Prologue; One - Two - Three - Four

High Seas; It Begins - Something's Wrong- Blood in the Water pt. 1 (here!) - Blood in the Water pt. 2

[sculptorofcrimson]

Commorragh’s Arenas

Synopsis: Just brainrot I had. (: 

Just torturing my OCs.

Warnings: Very, very vivid gore

Kyraraq of the Cult of Last Waltz, Champion of Seventy-Seven victories, the Daughter of the Dancing Delight, she perishes then. She effortlessly weaves beneath his first blow, and laughs at him, her voice beautiful and lilting. Then his second blow crunches down, and she sees the fist enlarging, its knuckles monstrous and ceramite-plated, she feels it slam and snap her face to the side, hitting her just beneath the cheekbone. The flesh splits to the side from the sheer force, her slender neck snapping back like a reed in a storm. Her skull splinters in five places, jabbing in bone shards into the soft tissue of her brain. She reels, her graceful leap disrupted as Faramund thrashes her like a ragdoll, crushing her bones with one hand and pummeling her with the other. He aims for her face, her beautiful, broken face. The fist smashes into her jaw - reducing her teeth to powder - it clips her neck and nails into her stomach. She convulses in mid-air, no longer dancing, no longer so beautiful beneath all the savagery. One, two, three more blows and a backhand from Faramund sends her flying, her teeth cracking like fibers as her slender form spasms from the sheer force. For a moment she is sailing like a crippled bird through the air, suspended in the altered gravity of the obsidian arena, and then she is crumpling against its far wall, her body ragdolling past the barbed spikes lining the curved arena walls. 

She gargles, choking in blood and fluid and tries to crawl for her weapon. She cannot. A massive boot crunches down upon her fingerbones as she twitches, one ceramite hand curling into a hateful fist and crushing against her sternum, hurling her delicate form again. She skids against the bone-white walls, painting a trail of blood against the blades, hearing herself die to the cheers and boos of the crowd, feeling the grating of broken bones crumbling within her. She dies sometime between this blow and the next, her brain whipping back and forth inside a shattered skull like a ragged piece of meat, dying before Faramund’s boot stomps on her beautiful, broken face with vengeful abaddon, pressing down with crushing force before dragging the heel across the remnants of her snapped throat and spine. The Blood Angel stomps on her body one last time before kicking it aside, the pulverized flesh of her face having been reduced to a sluggish, red paste with jutting cheekbones and a grinning, bared smile full of broken teeth, eyelids slack over hollow sockets.

He stands, bloodied, lips drawn over a thin, humorless grin. The Blood Angel’s emblem was all but covered by gristle now. He absently wipes it aside, revealing the wings, smiling to seemingly no one but himself.

Rest easy, my brothers. I have avenged you.

“I am Faramund Raith, Captain of the Blood Angels, son of Sanguinius. And in the name of the Emperor and Sanguinius, I will not die today!” He shouts, and raises the crushed, mangled corpse of the gladiator before his head. He laughs with wild, murderous joy. He can taste blood in his mouth and rage in his mind. Rage, black and beautiful and hungry. “Bring me your soldiers, pitiful spawn! Bring your servants, bring your kin and bring your brethren! And I will kill them all, I will kill them in honor, in blood, in Sanguinius, in our father’s name, and I will live tonight!"

They were cheering. By Sanguinius’ wings, he had just killed one of their gladiators in blood and brutality, and they were cheering. He could hear the Archon laugh, her voice sharp and musical, her withered form invigorated by the carnage as she leaned forwards, like a slobbering hound towards a meal, itching to not forget even a single second of this carnage. He could see the inky sclera of her eyes, her pupils black and dilated and full of that rampant, murderous joy. 

“FOR I AM FARAMUND RAITH,” Faramund roars, and he hurls the corpse in his hand. It splatters against the walls, and he hears the Archon yip in sharp, vicious amusement. “I AM A SON OF SANGUINIUS, AND I WILL NOT DIE TODAY!”

His words were greedily taken, drowned out, and celebrated by the delighted roar of the crowd. 

[siamesephoenixrandomideatank]

[Hellaverse X Warhammer Lore] Eightpoints and Its population

Undivided Realms of Eigthpoint or Aempyrea, is the term of hellish continent shaped of eight-pointed star with circular center and its confederacy of eight demonic lords referred as ‘The Chaos Deities/Gods’, ‘Warp-Anchors’, or Lords of the Dark Ruin. The Eight Realms include:

Brazen Skulls Domain, ruled by Khorne 

Plagueborn Tribes, ruled by Nurgle

Council of Fates, ruled by Tzeentch

Euphoryum, ruled by Slaanesh

Razvak Blightendom, ruled by The Great Horned Rat-Kings

City-States of Firesmog, ruled by Hashut.

Metropolis Technocrat, ruled by Vashtorr

Shade Nation, ruled by Be’lakor/Mallus

As known by The Seven Rings (Abaddon), Shamayim, as well as most other nations of Heaven and Hell, Aempyrean has no absolute leader but an ever-conflicting council of Eight Realms infighting constantly for domination and clear the ever-layering feuds. However, when all its eight realms agree to cooperate in the form of temporary truce and partnership, they become a force to reckon with, rivaling even the Seven Sins themselves.

Unlike Abaddon and majority of Hell where they began history since the Genesis where the Lord declared creation of light, emerged from revolutions or granted, but Aempyrean has manifested in Hell around the creation of Eden. The mythical figure known as ‘The Dark King’ formed the fortress-council in its barely solidified center, before he vanished and was replaced by the eight chaos deities. Aempyrean seemed to grow along with, if not by, the civilizations of mortal races. With the realm upon each point and their archons, the continents shifted on their domains and preference. 

The locals include Hellborns who migrated to Aempyrean and became one of their servants, the ‘true natives’/daemons who emerged along the continent itself, and sinners who they deemed worthy and devoted to their domain to earn their place in the realms. The sinners’ are considered victors in their own rights, over the favors of their master who picked them from falling into ‘lesser realms’ and became nobles of their domains. However, only the most favored of each god would be picked to live in their land.

Migrated Hellborns

Imps/ ‘The True Imps’

Even being originated from Abaddon by Satan(whetever solely or assisted by other figures), migrations of Imps from Abaddon were mainly separated into 3 periods; Founding Era/Pre-War (Most realms of Eightpoint were under ‘emergence periods’ and imps population was wanted as labors and militias), Abaddon-Eightpoint War and Eightpoint Civil Wars (Demand of exterior forces, mercenaries, criminalized figures from Abaddon, and halfborn between imps and Implings), and Post-War Period (Limited, but usually be permanent residents, semi-autonomous regions, or mercenaries and business connections). 

Noteworthy traits of Imps in Aempyrea compared to Abaddon include:

Have branding-like scars on a specific place of their body. That branding usually being ‘eightpoint star of chaos’ or abstracted symbol of their domains.

Skin and hair mutations related to traits of their region. (Spiked horns/bones, Pussed skin, additional eyes or limbs, widened eyes or jaws, etc.)

In some cases, they may reflect traits of animals aligned to their lord. (Khorne- Hounds or Big Cats, Nurgle- Bugsor Slugs, Tzeentch- Avians or Draconic, Slaanesh- Equines or Seashell, Great Horned Rat-Kings-Vermin, Hashut- Bovine, Vashtorr- Cybernetic, and Be’lakor- Bats and ‘living shadow’)

Hellhounds

Mostly work in military, law keepers, and/or specific regions; Brazen Skulls Domain, Plagueborn Tribes, and City-States of Firesmog. However, unlike imps, Hellhounds who belong under service of one lord are usually ‘more accepted’ as full citizens. 

Some historians believed they were enslaved cases taken by Aempyrea as slave-warriors rather than laborers, while some volunteered to work for their new lords. Some who survived and served well later integrated into the society.

The most common group is ‘Fleshhounds’, serving Khorne with their own district given by the Blood God himself. They work as patrols as interior figures and makeshift scouts or light infantry during war. They may also be found as supervisors of factories, cadet academies, and prisons.

Other group of Hellhounds include ‘Rabieshound’ under Nurgle, as they move stiffly, hallucinating aggressive, and carried deadly diseases, ‘Helljackals’ of Be’lakor or Tzeentch, as they usually work as spies, diplomats, or academic places’ elite guards.

Succubi/Incubi

Usually being captives as ‘household servants’ or most indoor and personal slaves, Succubi are commonly found under all the realms except Brass Skull Domain. Nurgle-aligned sees them as perfect incubators for their ‘experiments’, Tzeentchian ones use them as ‘canvas of magic’ while some may become spies or librarians, Slaanesh embraced them so well that they became a major part of Emphoryumite culture.

The Great Horned-Rat Kings see them as valuable breeders for their frequency of breeding and short pregnant time under right conditions, ideally to make lower-tiered half-vermin offspring. Hashut, rarely recruit them, but let them serve as entertainers and counter-spies for upper-classes Aempyrean Dwarves. Vashtorr admitted their uses as spies and ‘medium’ between his domain and ’overemotional’ and/or ‘dim-intelligent’ groups. Be’lakor is indifferent upon their migration, either in or out.

Baphomets

Known in Eightpoint as Beastfolks, with their forms being anthropomorphic goats, sheep, bovine, equines, or in between. They usually gather as forest and steppe-dwelling nomadic tribes, not aligning to a single realm. Their way of life is mostly self-sustaining or rely on battle; raiding, mercenary contract, piracy, or offering their services to other realms in Hell. However, nine of known ‘herds’ offered ‘long-term’ contracts to a single realm, except one of them that served Aempyrea as a single entity with order from at least four of the realm’s commands.

Their origin or immigration explanation was unclear, as some suggested Abaddonite Baphomets and Beastfolks have a shared ancestor, or if Baphomets migrated from Eightpoint to the Seven Rings.

Chaos Spawns/Rewarped Ones

While considered creations unique to Aempyrea, they’re also considered migration of Hellborns, those physically and mentally twisted by Eightpoint’s aura and mutated into savage-like semi-sapient creatures. They’re infertile by sexual productivities, nor capable to fully integrate in the society but capable of working as slaves, autonomous outposts, and meat shields that deal decent damages. 

Chaos Spawns are usually not aligned to any specific aspect, but some of potential spawns may be picked under service of the realm. In addition, the more they mutated, the more monstrous they become; less sapient, more mutated, larger in size, and driven by animalistic instincts.

True Native of Aempyrea

Bloodletters/Bloodthristers

Contrary to their slim bodies and their elongated heads and horns, they’re agile and strong that rivalling Wrath Ring Hellhounds. Bloodletters hate magic, scheme, and comfort as they believe the way of hell’s honor is through bloodshred, lethal trophy-collecting, and living tall by the dead of enemies. However, not all Bloodletters reach the peak height; being Bloodthristers.

Bloodthristers are the elite of their kins, allowed to get access to the best weapons, armors, and food they get. They also get to keep some ‘comfort’ (slaves, permanent houses, imported goods, or advisors) to ‘kill more and better’. To be Bloodthristers, they must slay at least 66 Hellborns on their own; duel, outnumbered in conditions both sides can fight, or kill them in the front when they’re conscious and could react.

Plaguebearers/Nurglings

Bloated flesh, bug-like traits, pus, tumors, boils, asymmetric pairs of horns or limbs, and unhealed wounds, these are common traits of Nurglings. Beside visual traits, their odor causes imps and hellhounds nausea and mortal beings vomit and even infection. Some claimed they’re always coated in slime and accompanied by flies and maggots.

Despite how their appearance is, they tend to be welcoming, open (both their minds and wounds alike, except to something clean), and nurturing. However, they loathed fragrant, hygiene, and static beauty, treating them like taboo. If something’s decay, ferment, contaminated, and ‘smelly’, it is something pleasing to them. 

Horror Heralds

Such creatures’ physical appearance is vague and varies; that could be just saying they are ‘color-shifting humanoid with multiple limbs, organs, faces, and able to perform levitation, telekinesis, and even speaking through minds’. However, the most certain way to track them is through their names and observe their ‘aura’, which most lesser hellborns requires practice, experience, and/or advanced tools to tell that.

Scholar of Abaddon claimed they look like blue imps or succubi in their default form, Helhelm’s skald recorded they’re ‘bird-people with scales and horns’, Naraka’s said they’re shapeshifters without no default forms, and Seth’s servants claimed they’re ‘chimeric humanoid, or biped, that appearance alone causes mortal insanity.’

Daemonettes

Unlike succubus, they’re not only about carnal desire but also terror, agony, and greed. They’re born with tentacles in place of hair, pitch black wide eyes, long slug-like tongue, and crustacean-claws like hands. The mature ones are usually piercing their bodies, flaying part of their skin permanently, or sticking a hole or tube on their blood vessels to get drugs directly whenever they want.

They’re also wearing lots of accessories and wearing minimal ‘traditional’ clothes as cover, making the border between them thin. Ambassadors from other lands recorded that they speak through the holes of their tongues as most pretend to speak by throats like most others.

Skavens

Vermin-like demonic beings who are known for their cunning and cowardice are shadowed only by their traitorous nature. That makes them the underground criminals even in the dirtiest places of Aempyrea, Reed of Osiris, Naraka, Helheim, or even a few clans founded on the Seven Rings. However, they mostly dwell in the domain of Razvak Blightendom under one of the thirteen monarchs.

Their land is filled with mines, slave pens, farms of fungal, algae, or insects for food, and warehouses that also serve as workshop and trophy hall of forgotten treasures alike. Most of the Hell see these Vermin as the weaklings that are difficult to truly get rid of their presence off.

Aempyrean Imps/Warped Implings

Despite not being considered as ‘true imps’, Aempyrean ‘imps’ or Warped Implings shared similar traits and creations to Satan/Abaddon’s counterpart. The main differences of Warped Implings to ‘True Imps’ are how Implings are more a Genus and how they are made simultaneously as one siblinghood in some senses. In addition, each of Implings races have ‘stronger reflection’ of their creators/masters.

Blood-Implings of Khorne: Longer forehead, horns merged with forehead, hairless, and muscular.

Poxer-Implings of Nurgle: Having poxes and bulging veins over the body, having parasites moving under their skins, and usually have antler-like horns.

Tzimplings of Tzeentch: Having extra eyes and/or limbs, feathers instead of hair, growing scales or crystal-like shards over skin, pointy mouths like beaks, and having longer fingers. 

Aemponets/Aemponettes of Slaanesh: Having curved and longer horns, their horns and claws are silvery or golden, larger eyes, and being lankier.

Verminimps of The Great Horned Rat-Kings: Having smaller bodies, swift tails like the third arms, hairy, and glowing eyes.

Zharrborns of Hashut: Having highlighted fangs, darker skins with glowing red hair and eyes, brass-like fangs and claws, and being stocky, short, or muscular.

Imptelli of Vashtorr: Being built-in cybernetic, having wires and cogs as part of them, being unemotional, and usually being intellectual.

Shadespawns of Belakor: Made from solidified shadow, need no organs, water, or food, but lack of magic and presence of holy entities alone kill them.

Furies

The Grimoire of Paimon Goetia described appearance of Furies as ‘spawns combining elements of reptiles and loose hellhounds together’; maned and scaled, having scales and bone-based horns and claws, and sometimes, wings or extra spikes on their arms, legs, or backs. 

Unlike Implings, they are free to travel between the realms, yet some may put alignment to one or a few ruler(s) and earn traits of blessing from them.

The Immigrants/’Outsiders’

Dawi-Zharr/Aempyrean Dwarves

Migrated from Svartalfheim and Nidevheim to Helheim, the ‘Damned Dwarves’ or known among the ‘mainstream Dwarves’ as ‘Oathbreakers’ or ‘Unkinneds’. However, some of those forsaken Dwarves did not see Hell as a hostile prison of punishment, but the new field of opportunity the ‘Pro-Aesir/Vanir’ failed or was too afraid to take. Some of them offered the damned version of dwarven wisdom of runes, machinery, and blacksmithy to other realms of Hell. Aempyrea was one of the few realms that welcomed the guests from Yggdrasil, especially Khorne, Tzeentch, and Vastorr, but Hashut favored them the most.

Dawi-Zharr are offered their places of petty lordship and financial support by Hashut to settle and serve hit during the Civil War period. The fallen dwarves flooded once a barren volcanic land into machine fields of forgery, dark rune, and slavery lines. 

Daemonic Lieges/Ascended Sinners

Not any sinner earns such title, as most of the sinners who accidentally fell into the Eightpoint would become food or mutated mindless spawns in a matter of days or weeks. One must devote to one of the Lords’ causes and be worthy enough to be gazed upon and accepted. The souls must show their potential and devotion in life that they worth their intentional claim from falling into other hellish realms and earning such ascension.

Khorne, Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh are the main four lords who see potential in human souls and let them earn a damned rebirth. Even though they're technically sinners, they are also rival demigods toe-to-toe. The mighty daemon princes are believed capable to slay a seraphim or even a minor pagan deity. However, such souls are rare and yet likely to betray due to their deep free will.

Other four lords of chaos rarely grant such a gift; Lords of Skavens see their souls serving better as batteries or experimental tools for dark magitech. Dawi-Zharr sees slaves labors or feeding for the beasts, Vashtorr rather ‘created’ their own servants, and Be’lakor picked only the ones who embrace the purest dark evil or lured the ‘secondhand daemon liege’ from others.

[farsight-the-char]

Thinking about Chaos Gue'vesa again, who view the Tau Empire as a more sustainable tool to chip away at the Imperium then Abaddon's forces.

They never use the names of the Chaos Gods openly, keeping their rituals private as possible, and eliminating their more "orthadox" counterparts that try to "take over".

...

Alternative names for the gods I thought of, that these Gue'vesa use:

The Watch Hound for Khorne, described as a vigilante dog who rewards loyalty and strength.

The Jewelled Serpent, who rewards pursuits of artistry and other passions.

The Mother of the Garden, goddess of natural cycles and family.

The Flame Raven, a many eyed bird, trickster and educator.

...

I also imagine many minor deities find followers within Tau space, Xenos ones included.

And of course, many finding the Greater Good Gestalt an interesting prospect, a new potential piece/player in The Great Game.

[zealotofthecrimsoncloud]

This is Abaddon(with new haircut cause the other one stated clipping a bunch.) And their formerly legion hound Azazel.

(More on both later im to tired atm lol)

[thesixthchaosgod]

About to unleash some Hounds!!! currently working on that lovely eerie skin and shading the reds

Also to be more lore accurate I'm working on a darker skin tone of my chaosy skin recipe

Needs a bit more work but I like the tones I chose, Royal Purple mixed with Rhinox Hide and highlighted with Steel Legion Drab, haven't done it here yet but probably Baneblade Brown as a final Highlight and then possibly a very thin wash or glaze of purple to bring the purple weirdness back

[lilibetbombshell]

BOOK REVIEW

Series: The Four Horsemen Author: Sienna Moreau Rating: 5 / 5 Stars (for the series thus far)

I recently read Sienna Moreau’s new novel based in a world where the Seven Deadly Sins have a great deal of power (the title is Lust and it’s out now) and it was so good I wanted to explore her back catalog. So I started reading this LGBTQ romance series about the four horsemen of the apocalypse and the immortal beings they fall in love with. I fell in love with the overall story arc that carries throughout the four books (there will be a fifth–it’s due out summer 2024), the world building, the magic systems, the found family vibe, the kinks, the spice, and most of all? I fell in love with the characters and their chaotic hot mess found family vibe.

The first book, Conquest, focuses on the first horsemen and a naive baby angel who, for some reason, has no wings and no memories of ever being human. He’s an enigma and he’s being sent down from Heaven to try and find out as much as he can about what Conquest and his brothers are doing and report back to God and the Archangels. This book is heavy on the grumpy/sunshine, size difference, possessive alphahole, “touch him and you die” vibes. Raziel, the baby angel in question, is not only adorable, but he must be protected at all costs.

War is all about enemies to lovers and second-chance romance. Uriel is an Archangel who still remembers being human very well and somehow he and War get stuck in a different dimension together. They hate one another but boy do they love to hate one another. This one is heavy on the mutual possessive AF vibes, the “I’m the only one who gets to hurt you” vibes, and the opposites attract.

Famine is about the centuries and centuries old romance between Lucifer and the third horseman. These two have been in love for almost as long as they’ve known one another, but they’ve gotten too good at hurting one another. God punished them both for falling in love in extreme ways and Famine has never forgiven himself for it. Lucifer doesn’t care about forgiveness because he’s too busy being insane. This one leans very heavy on the second-chance romance, found family, and lots of kinky hot spice vibes.

Death is literally about “touch him and you die”, because Death’s touch is literal. Death last sent the demon Abaddon to death by kissing him. It was the only kiss Death has ever had and it was the only time anyone has ever asked Death to kiss them when they were sent back into the cycle. When Abaddon comes back in an unexpected way, all they can both think about is that kiss. It leads to more than they ever knew could happen. This one is HEAVY on kink and sadomasochism. Like, all the TW/CWs.

Throughout these books there is an intertwined story of gods, angels, demons, madness, blood, war, and terror. There are intelligent horses, innocent but cheeky cherubs, a cute as hell dog-sized arachnid named Paul that I would give my life for, and even a three-headed hell hound named Spot. I have enjoyed reading this series so much and I highly recommend it.

[thekinkyleopard]

A Shifter’s Tale

AlxKoxNai RP Canon Lore Transcript

Part 1

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Foul Language, Demons, Sneaky Snz Mention

Description: Two residents of hell, are released out onto our reality on Earth. Each with their own set of reasons. How will that turn out for an Anti-Christ that craves chaos and a Gate Hound that just wants to understand? Join them on discovering the meaning behind being “a person” and building connections.

Author’s Notes: I knoooooow I announced this months ago and just getting to it nooowwww I’m sorryyyyy LOL me and Geez have also been behind on the RP anyway so this will be a short part! Hope you all enjoy 🤪 @aller-geez owns Kanai and Draeko, and did the lovely cover art!

Kezz: Alistar laid back against a large, blackened stone lounge, stretching his long limbs before scratching his stomach and smacking his lips, looking upward at the space above his head. Fire, brimstone, ash. It surrounded him, and for some it would be exhausting to breathe within such a contaminated environment, the demon only thrived. He counted each flickering speckle of dusted ash that floated across his vision before he heard it, the booming sound of his father’s hoove steps. “Abaddon,” he called out, coldly, harshly, like a knife secretly at your kidney. Dont make any sudden movements or sounds. Alistar, however, unphased by the Deity’s darkened, and aggressive manner turned his head, slowly, painfully so. It made the large half goat half demon’s eye twitch, snarling with impatience. “It’s time…while you weren’t due for your collection til next week, Cerberus has asked me that you accompany Kanai to earth, keep him straight,” he narrowed his goat like eyes, staring into the the emptiness that was Al’s true form, his blackened scleras and reddened irises rolled across the back of his skull. “Yeah, okay, whatever gets me the fuck out of her—…” suddenly a sharp pain at his throat, like he couldn’t breathe, and his body slowly lifted off the surface he once was standing on.

He moved to speak, but nothing could come out, every time he tried it was like fire in his esophagus. “Abaddon, there is no room for Error in this mission, shall I discover you’re /slacking/ or failing in anyway….I will not hesitate to eliminate you,” the monster was clear with what he meant, and Alistar was sure in even the farthest corner of his mind, his father meant it, he'd seen him smite others for less. His eye twitched but he didn’t whimper, or cower. He simply went limp, eyes glaring daggers in the direction of his so called dad.

“Yes, that…right there Abs….hold onto that hatred, that anger….itll come in handy…don’t go soft when you get down to earth,” as if someone had tossed a baseball, just as casually, Al went flying through the air, collapsing to the ground with a rough thud and scrape of his jeans, creating more tears in them. “Understood…” he spat, avoiding eye contact now but refusing to show a glimpse of emotion. “Good boy,” Satan smirked waving his hand off to signal that demon’s exit. “Be gone now, do as you were created to,” Alistar came to a stand, dusting himself off and with a grunt, headed toward the gates.

“Fucking bastard…” he grumbled once out of ear shot. “Real piece of work that Satan…” scoffing to himself before he reached his destination. “Nai! S’go!!” His hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice calling out to his best friend.

Geez: Meanwhile, Kanai stood at the huge iron gates as large flames licked up the metal, the thick black layer of soot constantly kept fresh throughout the millennia with ease. The hellhound stood tall and proud, like he wasn’t the size of an ant standing in front to the terrifying three headed beast that was his father. Cerberus had long ropes of drool that slid between his massive teeth as he panted, although Kanai stood completely motionless as if his body was made of stone, his black rimmed heterochromatic eyes focused straight in front of him to show his respect for the huge canine.

“Lucifer has offered for you to be accompanied to the mortal world by his son. He will be joining you to ensure your safe return after your Ramspringa. You are my smartest son, and I have faith that you will simply become bored of the mortal world. Your intelligence should make this the shortest Ramspringa yet, and when you return, I will begin to personally train you to begin the process of taking my place in front of the gate.” Cerberus clapped one massive paw against Kanai’s shoulder and although he didn’t move a muscle, the sheer force behind the encouraging gesture was enough to make the Merle hound lose his balance a little, taking a few small steps to the side in order to regain his balance.

“Yes, father. You have nothing to worry about. I have located a few points of interest that I would like to indulge. I will be returning shortly to allow you to finally step down.” The borzoi nodded very slowly, now allowing himself to make eye contact with one of the three terrifying canine heads that sat atop his father’s shoulders. “I have faith in you, boy. Now, go find his offspring and make sure your temporary flesh vessels were created correctly before you depart through the portal. You will only get one after porting to earth.” His father warned with a stern expression, to which Kanai nodded silently to show he understood.

Just as the hellhound turned to trek through the familiar fire and brimstone that he had called home for 2500 years to locate Alistar, his ears perked up to sit gently upon his head as the same deep, frustrated voice of his best friend resonated within his head. The gold piercings that dangled from the tips of his ears swayed lazily as he whipped his head around towards the familiar voice, his blue and brown eyes instantly connecting with the silhouette of the redhead calling out to him. Padding down the array of blackened stones that let from the thick iron doors, Kanai finally stood face to face with Alistar. “I thought you had no interest in returning to earth, Donnie?” The hound asked with a tilt of his head as they both began to trudge towards the Vessel Laboratory, both mentally preparing for the lengthy process that leaving hell always was.

Kezz: Alistar waited out, kicking the greyish terf about with the point of his steel sole, flesh bound foot cover. Sighing deeply he looked off into the distance, seeing a horizon of fire and the echoing sounds of tormented souls shrieking loudly in his ears. It was mundane. The same shit everyday. Torture. Fire. Ash. Then you have the frozen layer. Torture. Ice. Cold. Even more boring than the fire. He couldn’t wait to get back onto earth. He had only had a few sessions of training down there, supervised of course by a higher level demon, recruited under his father as always. So he never got to have an authentic experience. He just hoped he could at LEAST, find a couple mythicals walking around so he can get some real good tail. His best friend just wasn’t cuttin’ it anymore. The second the Borzoi headed toward him he already nodded his head, running a grey hand through his ruby red hair.

“No interest? Oh Kanai, my dear sweet canine friend, the opposite is true!” He raised his arms high. “There is so much to discover on Earth, so much mischief! You thought mischief down here was entertaining? Wait til we get up there!” Pointing upward toward what could be considered the sky to hell but more or less was just more brimstone. Hell was a lot like being stuck inside a giant castle on fire. While the two of them made their way to the Lab, Alistair sighed with a dreamy like tone to his voice. “It’s going to be so great…two of us…taking on planet earth,” he just really wanted to get the fuck away from the world’s biggest Narcissist ever created. His father. He couldn’t stand being surrounded by brothers who all praised and kissed their father’s ass, with said father eating it up like a thanksgiving brunch. A vulgar sight to see.

He wouldn’t have to speak to them ever again, so long as he kept his vessel alive, and away from any of his brother’s also on earth. Shouldn’t be hard. They were all busy with their objective. Collect souls for hell. The more souls signed over to Satan, by his name or in his honor, the less powerful Lucifer’s chain tethers are. There are tethers in heaven that connect to restraining Lucifer into hell and keeping him there. The less souls in heaven VS in Hell, the less power Heaven has over hell, slowly releasing him. Once he can regain visitation to Earth, he can take over and rule all. Eye rolling himself into the sun, but this is what Al was trained, groomed, and bred to do. Yet, he rejected every part of it. Fuck that. If he was FORCED here, he was going to have the free will his grandfather intended for him, and indulge.

“They better have gotten my customizations right, swear I don’t wanna have to do it down ON Earth it’s so much worse when you’re occupying the vessel,” his half lidded, disinterested eyes turned to that of slight worry, hoping the lab demons didn’t get lazy, or petty. It’s a gamble working with demons. They walked through the archway, and immediately the lackies began to scatter about to get things in line for the two Princes. “Your Majesties…” they began “Ew stop, I’ve told you, don’t do that, My father isn’t a King,” Alistar rolled his eyes. “Our vessels ready? And you didn’t fuck up the instructions did you? Cause I’ll fucking rip that tiny useless head right off your shitty shoulders,” stepping forward with his excruciatingly violent demeanor making the workers shrink nervously.

“Y-Yes Mr. Abaddon, Sir,” snorting he folded his grey arms over his chest.

“Let us see then,” nudging a look over to Kanai to gauge his reaction as their vessels were exposed to them. The bodies looked more or less like they would as people, but Alistar’s flesh was way more lively, blackened hand tattoos and matching blacked out neck, flames going up the wrists. The vessel had piercings, long snakebite spikes, septum, Medusa and tattoos under his eyes. Under the left was 666 under the right was a Leviathan cross. At the end of the day, he hated his dad, but, he knew he was safe covered in their family sigils whilst on earth. Gotta be protected by the radicalized Catholics and religious nuts that’ll try and douse him with holy water. “Oh hey look you did get it…wait…” the Anti-Christ stepped closer to the vessel examining it before looking inside the waist band. “Yo! What the fuck! That ain’t 10 inches!” He looked up with almost shocked rage.

“L-Look S-Sir we had to go with E-Eight….it was t-too much your d-dad said…” they cringed and cowered.

“Typical…fucking Old man, killin’ my buzz…” he crossed his arms and let out an irritated grunt, exhaling loudly through his flaring nostrils.

Geez: “I’m very intrigued to see how the mortals live.” Kanai nodded as he paced along side his best friend. As the two approached the facility, his ears pressed back against his skull, displaying his discomfort clearly as the demons began to fuss over them. They scurried around the building, trying their best to quell the redhead's temper. While the others were all busy with Alistar, the hellhound padded silently towards the vessel they had created for him, his dual colored eyes scanning up and down the mortal flesh before him. One of the worker demons from behind the rest of the group noticed his interest and broke away from the others to stand beside him, nodding with a hopeful look in their eyes. “I hope the vessel we have crafted for you meets your specifications, your majesty?” They asked cautiously.

Despite the redhead’s adversity to that word, Kanai couldn’t help but enjoy the special treatment. As the youngest son of Cerberus, and the only one who didn’t constantly get themselves into savage battles in the name of their father, he didn’t get the special treatment very often. So of course, he took advantage of it at any time he could. The vessel that lay lifeless on a stretcher was gorgeous, more than he even expected to receive. The grey skin accented the shoulder length blue grey hair, and the shiny black horns that protruded from its skull were a perfect replica of his own. The corners of the hellhounds muzzle turned up slightly when he noticed the upside down crosses that hung from the human ears. Littered across the vessels face were a multitude of different piercings: gold cheek piercings, two top lip labrets, two bottom lip labrets, as well as black rings in both nostrils, and another ring buried within its septum.

“It exactly matches my request, you have my gratitude.” Kanai nodded, his dual colored eyes flying to meet with Alistar’s. “Are we prepared for departure then, Abaddon?” His tone was changed only slightly as his impatience began to get the best of him, his paws shuffling until him as he began to get antsy to experience anything besides the bowels of hell that he was used to.

Kezz: Alistar sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing to himself. “8 inches…PFT…” he grumbled under his breath, but before long his pouting intercepted by Kanai’s question. “We gotta get into the vessels first dingaling….and stop calling me that, I made myself a new name for my new life…it’s Alistar….so yeah, from here on Abaddon is dead,” his voice was still very clearly irritated by the work that was done on his vessel, it was such a minor detail to everyone else, it was but a few inches in detail but it was enough to piss him off.

“I’m sorry your highness, truly, it was out of our judgement,” the grey skinned male rolled his darkened eyes and simply waved a hand about.

“Whatever just connect us to the vessels,” trying to get this show done and over with at the least so he could get to having a good time. Fuck this place. Alistar and Kanai were then approached by two tiny goblin like demons, and handed each a small tiny vile of black liquid.

“Here you are, Sir,” Al took the glass in his hand, observed the contents before ultimately downing it like a shot of alcohol. Similarly as well, it burned down his throat and made his whole body shutter violently. Used to the feeling as they had snuck in many times to steal vessels for their entertainment.

Soon the vessel that was once unanimated and laying down started to vibrate and glow a bright crimson and eventually so did Al. “Here we-..” he started to himself before long, the light was so bright neither body was distinguished from within the light, and with a loud crackling sound, BOOM. He and the vessel combined and as a large cloud of black smoke appeared from the sound, it slowly dissipated and revealed Alistar now standing in front of the team of demons all clapping their hands.

“Wonderful! How’s it feel your majesty?” Al exhaled with annoyance once more behind the sounds of celebration, rolling his now clear white scelaras and Ruby irises.

“Stop calling me that,” he didn’t want to be royalty. He wanted to be a God. Every time they called him a prince, your highness, majesty, he was reminded that he was nothing more than a successor to his damn father. No. He wanted to out rank that old man. And he would, so help him, he would.

“Our apologies…does the vessel feel comfortable?” the trembling demon asked.

“It would if I had a bigger dick but I suppose this’ll do….” Shaking his head back and forth in response.

Geez: Kanai snorted a chuckle through his nose. Growing up with Alistar, he completely understood the redhead's adversity towards his father. He, however, wanted nothing more than his father’s approval. His father was a fierce, legendary warrior that was respected by the creatures of hell, and he felt pure admiration for the three headed beast. But because of his overall lack of interest in savage battles like his siblings, he was often overlooked by his father. The fact that he was chosen to take his place in front of the gate should have been the best thing that had happened to him, but he couldn’t help but feel some sort of envy towards his siblings for getting to live their lives separately. How was he supposed to return to the bowels of hell quickly when the only thing waiting for him was solitude?

Getting torn from his own thoughts, a vial of the same viscous black liquid was thrust into his field of view, to which he tossed the goblin a nervous glance. Before he even had a chance to speak, Alistar had downed the substance, and after a moment, his best friend stood in front of him within the new vessel. The hellhound blinked a few times, trying to process the transformation, sure they'd done this a few times behind everyone's backs but this felt weird doing it on purpose, which only made the demon next to him jab an elbow into his side gently. “It’s your turn now, Your Majesty.”

With a nod, Kanai sucked in a deep breath, before taking the vial within his teeth and throwing his head back, the liquid sliding down the side of the glass and emptying down his throat. The liquid had a horrible, sickening taste that one could only describe as acid as it burned down his esophagus and filled his stomach, making the hellhound gag audibly, resulting in the the glass shattering against the ground in front of him. Ugh, he hated that taste.

“Your highness!?” The goblin shrieked nervously as they hopped around trying to avoid the glass that scattered around their feet. Before he could speak, the vessel they had prepared for him also began to vibrate and emit a navy blue light, and his canine body followed suit shortly after. Moments pass before his body was replaced by a disembodied blue orb of light that quickly disappeared within the vessels open mouth with a deafening sparking sound, followed by complete silence.

After a second, the human eyes of the vessel flew open, revealing Kanai’s blackened scleras and heterochromatic irises, and he slowly sat up before lifting his greyed hands and flipping them back and forth in front of him, reunited with human hands instead of the four paws he was used to standing on.

“D-Does…. Does everything feel o-okay for you, my prince?” The goblin asked cautiously as Kanai began to peel his new body from the stretcher it once laid in.

“Different.. but.. Sufficient.” Kanai nodded respectively.

Kezz: Alistar stretched his new arms out, admiring his tattoos and his newly colored flesh. He couldn’t believe that he was this close to getting the fuck out of this literal hell hole. His Ruby gaze stared closely as Kanai swiftly shifted and changed to combine with the vessel waiting for him. Once the body animated to life, he himself smirked and clapped his hands. “Alriiiiiight, let’s do this shit then…gotta get back to the gates in our new vessels and get the whole entire fuck out of here!” Grabbing his best friend now by his very human like shoulders and shaking him back and forth. “We’re gonna be free beings, Nai!” His teeth grinned brightly ear to ear, he couldn’t wait. The parties, the sex, the drugs, the chaos, all of it. The humans too. He couldn’t wait to pluck their souls and fuck with their heads. He hated those little cretins.

“Ready?” He asked as he cocked a look to his best friend. Not long after they found their way back across the darkened ashy wasteland Alistar stared about the large black, metal gates. Though, if you were to touch them, your fingers shall whisper through like an illusion. Around the gates was a large bursting wall of blue flames. “Alright, how the fuck do we do the thing and get down to earth then, are we like…waiting for your dad with the key or…” he looked around with an empty epression on his face but his body jittered with impatience.

Geez: The bright blue light from the flames in front of them reflected in Kanai’s black scleras as he examined the gate for a second, until he finally processed what Alistar had asked him. Turning his head towards the redhead eerily slowly, his face could only display what one would imagine would be a confused expression but it was nearly the same as any other. “…Have you forgotten that the gates of hell require no key, Donnie?” He tilted his head to the side as he questioned the demon, thoroughly confused by the sentiment.

Alistar had grown up in Hell with the hellhound, and had seen the gates used many times in that time. Maybe he had simply forgotten? As his heterochromatic eyes stayed locked on his best friend's, one greyed lanky arm was outstretched in front of him and his palm met with the iron bars of the legendary gate. The closer his hand got to the gate, the more transparent the flames behind it got until they disappeared completely as his skin made contact. He simply pushed lightly against the metal, and the massive gate creaked loudly as it was dragged against the stone ground to open a few inches.

“See? We only have to push it while the seal is lifted for our departure.” He nodded to punctuate his statement before the intense chill of the unfamiliar air behind the gate made the hair on his outstretched arm stand on end. Retracting his arm back quickly as if he had been shocked, his gaze snapped towards the gate as he held his hand to his chest. He had never been close enough to the great gate to feel the other worldly air, and it was a stark reminder that he was about to leave hell, the only place he’d ever known, for the first time.

His heart thudded loudly in his chest, but his facial expression didn’t change at all. Once able to process his thoughts, the hound quickly adjusted the halo that glowed brightly over his head, and turned back to Alistar. “Piloerection while in the vessel feels way more intense with less hair.. I must discover the reason once we have adequate time on earth, Abad-…. Alistar.” Correcting himself quickly, Kanai nodded again as almost a pat on the back for remembering the redhead’s new preferred name. “If you are ready, we may depart. Make sure to remain close behind me, so you may also depart without instance.” He told the other offhandedly, although all of his focus was on the gate now as he reached out both hands and forced the gate open just enough for the two to squeeze through.

Even if it was only opened slightly, the metal made a bone chilling sound as it scraped the ground, and the icy air from outside the gate was strong enough to blow Kanai’s grey blue hair back as it rushed in. Without stopping, suddenly the hound began to move forward and through the gate, into the overwhelming darkness on other side. Shortly, the darkness consumed his entire body, and in the time it had taken him to blink, he suddenly found himself having to squint against the sun that burned his unaccustomed eyes. Raising a hand over his brow to shade his vision, the hellhound looked around at his surroundings. He was standing in an expansive field of well kept sod grass, and off in the distance were metal and plastic structures where a few children hung off of them while laughing, and a few others ran around them, equally bright smiles on their faces. Kanai had never seen such a thing..

As he stood staring into the distance, his train of thought was interrupted by the loud smack of footsteps that seemed to be getting louder, until a teenager ran past them wearing jogging shorts and tennis shoes, but no shirt. “Nice horns, faggot!” The teen jeered as he passed, followed by a sarcastic chuckle and a shake of his head. “You have my gratitude.” Kanai called after him with a nod, taking a moment to run his fingers across the points of his horns thoughtfully. “That was generous of that mortal..” he whispered to himself.

Kezz: Alistar stood there examining the metal from a far. He looked over at Kanai and frowned as he watched him effortlessly open the gates. Sure, he’d seen it done, that doesn’t mean he hadn’t been manipulated. “Easy for you to say asshole, I was told if I try to even touch the gate that I’d explode into a hurricane of guts and return as a worm….but now that I think about it….my dad really is a dirty fuckin liar….” Pursing his lips with agitation and thought. “You forget that only one of our dad’s tells the truth about shit,” rolling his crimson eyes, almost as if he was annoyed that Kanai often forgot how cruel and awful Lucifer is, but I suppose one can only know based off their personal experience, and Lucifer was generally neutral to be around for most everyone in hell. When suddenly Kanai pulled back, Alistar felt a slight tinge of panic from within his chest. “Are you gonna explode?!”

Fearing that maybe his father was right and no one that wasn’t holding a position of power, couldn't in fact open the gates. Noticing there was no look of horror, torment or pain spread across his friend’s face, Alistar chucked a brow up as he looked at him closely noticing that the hound was starting to slowly come back to reality, he then began squinting slightly as the hellion spoke. He allowed the other his slip up, and decided to make no fuss on it. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Look, I’d rather we didn’t waste anymore time here, let’s go,” starting to fall impatient as they just stood between the very real, obtainable moment of being on earth, and the harsh reality that was the fact, they were still standing in Hell. Once Kanai started to actually open the gate, Al creeped closely behind, hoping to avoid getting lost and them appearing in two different locations.

Luckily, as the darkness that started to consume them, disappeared like clouds opening up from the sun, Alistar squinted, and suddenly like the fog was cleared, he realized they were no longer in hell. The echoing sounds of small humans playing filled his ears, along with the teen, insulting his friend, as he passed by Kanai. The red head swiftly, and in great timing, stuck his leg out and burst into laughter when the kid went flying face forward into the concrete. “Ah!” He exclaimed as his nose hit the cement and blood trickled down his face. “What the hell man?”

“Nah, I don’t live there anymore but, you’re more than welcome….” Alistar stared deeply into the kid’s eyes and towered over his body that still lay on the ground. “Be gone, cretin,” he hissed at the teen, and before long the boy scrambled to his feet and took off. “Kanai, Faggot is an insult, he was essentially saying you’re a dirty dick sucker….which in theory doesn’t make sense…because sucking dick and having your dick sucked is actually….really fucking great so idk, kid is a buzzkill I guess,” he shrugged his shoulders before he looked around to see where exactly they landed.

It was a huge park, massive, in the middle of a very large city, buildings everywhere. “Shit where the hell did the gates drop us off at?” He looked around questionably, before realizing there was stuff in his pockets. He reached down, patted at his pants and realized there was a cell phone, a wallet and any information he would need as a “human.” IE Social Security card, ID (fake address provided) a bank card connected to an account that was indeed, full. “Damn dad really made sure we were set,” he snickered going through the phone and realizing just how much freedom they had now. “Let’s go do something fun….Fuck everything else,” the red head turned to look at his best friend, smirking before someone behind Kanai caught his attention.

A man smoking a cigarette, which intrigued Alistar so much he actually pushed past Kanai to talk to the stranger. “Hey dude do you have another one of those?” The stranger looked at Al up and down, squeezed his eyes with an air of judgement before he scoffed.

“No, who the fuck are you? Fuckin bum, get out of here,” the red head frowned, and scoffed audibly.

“Fine then,” his eyes closed and when they opened again, they were entirely black and suddenly the man went stiff, frozen in place. “Give me all of the Smokey sticks you have,” demanding slowly of the man, who nodded in return, shoveling his hand in his pocket only to pull the pack out and hand it over. “Good, now fuck off,” he spat at the stranger he essentially mind robbed. “Look Nai! Treats!” He held the box up like a trophy, making his way back.

Geez: Watching the boy run off further into the park for a second before turning his attention back to the redhead as he spoke, Kanai was yet again confused by the explanation he was given. “An insult?… but he said he liked my horns, which is a compliment, yes?” The wheels in the hellhounds head were clearly turning, but the concept was lost on him. “Regardless, that mortal seems to be rather uneducated to think that I was ever unclean while engaging in fellatio..”

How would this strange creature even know about his life in hell? Maybe they had certain powers that he hadn’t read about that allowed them such insight into his past life?

Still quite obviously mulling these thoughts around in his head, he opened his mouth to fire off another endless string of questions for the redhead, but was quickly cut off as he was pushed to the side. The hellhound’s halo that hung in the air above him slid a little from the abrupt movement, however he caught the glowing ring in his hand before it manage to slip off of his head and clatter to the ground below him. With what could assume was a frustrated grunt, the halo was readjusted over his head again while he watched Alistar’s exchange with the stranger.

Suddenly, Kanai could feel the energy switch to hostility in the human as he squinted toward the redhead, making the quick decision to stay back and observe on the off chance that if this man attempted to attack, he would quickly become the demon's first soul harvest of their adventure. The hound wasn’t the most adept when it came to physical altercations, so what would it hurt to have a little more first hand experience before he was faced with the task? Although just as quickly as the energy between the two had become hostile, the man became compliant, stuffing the strange box into Al’s outstretched black hand. Huh. Guess there would be no epic battle for him to study.

The word ‘treats’ echoed in Kanai’s head for a second before his multi colored irises finally lifted to the box being held up. He had no idea what the exchange was even over, but he could tell that his friend was excited about their gift, and this alone calmed the warning bells that had been going off in his head. Slowly he made his way across the rest of the field that lie between him and the redhead, and when he finally stood in front of Alistar again he squinted slightly as he attempted to replicate the expression he had seen a few times already. Sure, he didnt know exactly what feeling he was supposed to be conveying by holding his eyes as such, but there couldn’t be that many emotions to fabricate. It must have at least been close to it.. right?

“…. What did you receive? I am unfamiliar with any treats that look as these do..” Kanai asked after a second of intense study, turning his head to look at his friend once again with a seemingly irate expression. Any kind of emotion looked strange displayed on his face having gone 2500 years with the same stoic, blank features, but this one definitely took the cake.

Kezz: Alistar placed his hands at his hips and couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the other’s naivety. “It was sarcasm, Nai….I see I have my work cut out for me,” he shook his head but then grinned. “You’re not wrong on that end though pal,” pointing at him with finger guns.

Once retrieving the pack of cigarettes, which conveniently had a lighter tucked within the contents. “This is a …cancer stick? Cigarette? Stoge? The humans call them many things…they’re for sinners though…and I hear they taste awful but make you feel really good,” explaining the foreign item to his best friend, looking more at it than his strange expressions.

He slid one out of the package and brought it to his lips. “You light it like they do in the movies with this thing,” pulling out the lighter, he struggled with it a bit. Not exactly sure how to get the fire going. His red brows furrowed inward as he attempted to give the button a press. Nothing. What?

“Hm….” He contemplated audibly before examining the tool closely, the stoge hanging loosely from his lips. “Come on….tch…Uncle fucking Christ dude…why won’t it light??” Starting to get increasingly frustrated before eventually, by accident, his thumb slid along the rolling metal gears of the contraption, and pressing the button, boom, a small flame flickered about.

“Ah-hah!” He grinned with success, bringing the fire up to the end of the cigarette, and soon the demon’s lungs began to fill with smoke as he inhaled. After a few short drags, he exhaled gingerly, allowing the nicotine to rush straight into his brain. “Holy shit….” He stumbled, not used to the kick behind it. “Nai you gotta try this!” The trail of smoke lingering amongst the two and tickling Kanai’s sensitive nostrils, consuming his ability to smell anything else but the burning tobacco.

Geez: “I will have to study the subject more I suppose.” Kanai shrugged, not giving it any more thought. He released a short, sharp exhale to show that he had heard the redhead, his eyes locked onto the lighter in the other's hand as he struggled, although he had no insight on the foreign object so he stayed mainly quiet. When the flame finally managed to lick across the metal of the lighter, the hound's eyes lit up a little, fascinated more by the lighter than the cancer sticks that Alistar was so excited about. “…Mortals have pocket fires?” He asked curiously, reaching out to gesture for a closer look at the object. After a few seconds of silence as the redhead took a few drags, Kanai lifted his gaze from the lighter and back up to meet the other's ruby orbs. He had to admit, watching Alistar experience the intense nicotine rush did make him a little curious to try it himself. You know, for research reasons.

“I suppose I could parta—..” The hound was cut off mid sentence, already attempting to take the cigarette from Al’s outstretched hand, when he began to be overwhelmed by sensations that were completely new to him. His eyes quickly began to water, filling to the brim with liquid that seemed to force him to squint, making the bright blue from his irises almost glimmer in the sunlight they stood in. Within seconds, it felt as if someone had lit fire to the inside of his sinuses, and it only increased exponentially when he attempted a quick sniff to chase off the unbearable itching. The hellhound couldn't help but suck in an involuntary gasp of air as his eyes snapped shut, and he was instantly overwhelmed as the tickle bloomed into two unintentionally harsh releases into the space between them.

“huh’KIISSHH’ah! Eh'kgsssshihh!!“ Dazed, Kanai blinked slowly a few times, feeling an unfamiliar pressure behind his eyes as a single tear slipped from his left eye and down his grey cheek. “Apologies,” the hound sniffed once again as his eyes caught the small cloud of mist he had made into the air reflect the sunlight. With the strange feeling suddenly gone, he attempted to take the cigarette from Alistar once more, although the wind only directed the smoke straight towards him. He didn’t even have time to react this time as the tickle returned with vengeance. “hh’KSHHh’hieww!”

What the hell was going on? This had never happened while he was home. He wasn’t even sure what to call it.. how would he do any research on the subject?

With another quick sniffle, he dropped his outstretched hand to his side and shook his head. “I don’t think they are compatible with my vessel, Donnie.”

Kezz: Once Alistar finally got a flame going he felt much more confident in his abilities to figure out human tools. He smirked and looked over at Kanai with a grin. “Yeah, funny huh? In hell most of us can just flick our fingers and have a spark….humans are so useless they need to make tools for such tasks,” he cackled a bit before taking another large inhale of the cigarette while handing the hound the object in question for him to examine. Enjoying the rush the nicotine gave him as his head, thoughts and reality swirled amongst him.

He was suddenly caught extremely off guard by the sounds exploding out of his best friend. He blinked his crimson eyes once, twice, three times in confusion as the sound didn’t seem to stop, his cheeks turned a slight hue of red and he bit his lower lip, watching as his best friend’s eyes began to leak and his nose crinkled with every blast. “What the hells is that?” He asked curiously, watching as each time Kanai is faced directly with the trail coming off his lit stoge, it caused these loud and moist fits that made the demon’s body tingle and tremble upon witness.

“Looks like /I’ve/ found something to research!” He snickered before pulling his cellular out and typing into the search ‘what is the loud noise that humans make sometimes from their face when there’s smoke around,’

Google: Sneezing

“Hm….what..is….sneezing?” He ticked into the search bar now.

Google: sneeze /snēz/ verb gerund or present participle: sneezing make a sudden involuntary expulsion of air from the nose and mouth due to irritation of one's nostrils. "the smoke made her sneeze"

“Interesting…apparently what you just experienced is a ‘sneeze’ Nai and it says here, they’re 1/8th of an orgasm! ….hot….do it again…” he grinned up now at his best friend wafting the smoke trail closer to the other before they heard a loud commotion.

“Come on dude! I just need a nap! I’m exhausted!” he heard one of the two voices exclaim.

“Find a friend's house to crash at, no sleeping in public parks,” the red head looked over to see what he recognized as a human police officer, aka the fun ruiners and some dirty looking man arguing with him.

“Hmmm might have my first prospects….” He mumbled to himself. He did come here on a mission. Granted, one of his own, without his father’s knowledge….but that was for him.

“Nai, I’m gonna run a collection, then we are gonna get settled and find lodging, cause we can’t just sleep outside,” he scoffed, realizing they had to get some ground work done before any real fun could begin.

Geez: Kanai wiggled his nose back and forth, sniffling lightly as Alistar explained the concept. “A.. sneeze?” He asked, almost cautiously, until the redhead compared it to an orgasm and he was suddenly intrigued again.

The hound leaned forward to place his face in the trail of smoke once again and focused on the newfound sensitivity that instantly sprung to life on his face. Well, if it were 1/8th of an orgasm, this next one should send him over the edge, if the research was correct. Inhaling sharply, the burning sensation once again stole his breath in a ragged gasp before a loud, “HEH'kkssshuuh!” exploded from his features for a fourth time. Scrubbing frantically at his pierced nose, he emitted a quick groan before his bleary eyes peeled open again to almost glare at Alistar. “That—“ he cleared his throat, “—did not feel like any orgasm I have ever experienced, Donnie. The information seems to be inaccurate.”

Shaking his head, his gaze followed the demons and settled upon the officer. He couldn’t understand the need for such an enforcer, but Alistar was right, they needed to find somewhere to sleep for the night sooner rather than later. “Yes, it seems as if he knows where we could find such.. if you don’t mind, I will observe from here and will stay out of your way.” The hound replied matter of factly, his eyes never leaving the human in the uniform as he fiddled with the lighter within his grey fingers.

Kezz: Alistar watched closely, if the man had a tail it would be wagging furiously as he stay witness to his best friend’s research. Hoping that he would get to see this new vessel he was in, come to climax in front of his very own red eyes. When it came flying out of his mouth, he was disappointed slightly by the lack of convulsions and pleasured sounds and crossed his arms. “Well what the fuck! That’s what my cellular device said!” The red head huffed but shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it has to be the right trigger? Hm? Like something stronger….” Almost contemplating ditching all their efforts of trying to figure out how to settle in out here, and go on an entire rampant search for the orgasm inducing sneeze. It really was hard to stay on track out here.

Almost fully allowing the right side of his brain to lead him into distraction, the left side began to itch and gnaw at him. “I guess we will figure that out later, we have plenty of time for research,” nodding respectively, feeling proud to choose productivity over horny, but it may be the only time.

Allowing his long slender legs to carry him across the grass to the interaction of the two people; he first approached the more authoritative figure.

“Hey, me and my friend are new in town, where’s the closest domicile I may purchase?” The cop raised a brow and folded his arms over his chest.

“What do you mean?” Al crooked his head, unsure of the officer’s confusion and rolled his eyes with impatience.

“You know, a place we can sleep? Eat? Have privacy? A domicile?” The cop scoffed and shook his head.

“What is this the 1800s ?” He chuckled loudly the sound echoing obnoxiously in Alistar’s ears. Already regretting this interaction as a whole.

“I am unclear what that means, but can you help us or not? Is that not what you do?” cocking his hip with judgement at the officer. Alistar couldnt beleive the incompetence, and disrespect. Arent they servants of the public? Scum.

“I don’t baby sit, move along sir, you can find hotels on every corner,” the cop narrowed his eyes and looked over at the homeless man once again. “You get out of here before I ticket you,” the man on the recieving end sighing, gathering his things and starting to walk away as the officer glared back at the two demons. “And you two better not cause any trouble out here,” pointing a stern index at them before he too, began to take his leave.

Al felt slighted, disrespected, what the hell was that? Not even a proper answer he snorted angrily through his nose before quickly walking after the homeless man. “You! What say you? You know where I can find shelter?” The man froze, almost looking at the red head with mocking disbelief.

“Dude if I did, I wouldn’t be getting kicked off a bench now would I?” The dirty man crossed his arms with a read of mistrust.

“Look, I have money, I just need to know where to give it to sleep permanently, I need a…thingy! One of those things that the humans go back to every day after their shenanigans,” mulling his hands in circles trying to remember the human languages he loosely, lazily, half-assedly learned.

“A fucking house, dude?” almost unbelievable how clueless the crimson eyed figure was to the homeless man in front of him, his brows raised.

“Yes! House! Lodging! Shelter! Whichever! Can you point me in the right direction? I can make your wildest dreams come true, trust me,” winking at the man mischievously. “Just grant me access and ownershipofyouressence and it shall be done in the name of Alistar Satanos,” he held up a proud index finger to the sky, knowing full well he was convincing enough to the human ear. The man tilted his head and peaked a brow up.

“Huh?” Unsure of what the strange red head meant or even said, was he purposely mumbling?

“Promise me the directions towards a lodging facility and ownershipofyouressence and I will grant you your deepest desire,” the man considered this for a moment, he looked around and his brows raised with curiosity. At this point, the man just wanted to see if he could benefit from this insane reaction so he interrupted with a wave of his hand.

“Okay let’s say I do, my deepest desire is to be successful and rich so I’ll never have to starve again, you can do that?” still not fully believing the tall random man, but something about Alistar’s smirked coaxed him further.

"I can do more than that but, yes, I can," the stranger swallowed nervously but then nodded and immediately, crimson eyes turned solid black, and they began to glow with an ominous narrowed stare.

"Then so it shall be, in the name of Alistar, you sign yourself to me, and all to which you desire, will come to fruition," his voice suddenly dropping several octaves, echoing loudly in the fore front of this stranger's brain.

At the first thought of acceptance, the stranger froze. Suddenly, the man's eyes rolled back, his arms outstretched wide and Alistar reaches out with an open palm.

"In Alistar's name," the unknown male gurgled behind a strained voice. A brightly shining translucent sphere seemingly floats out from the man’s open throat, and into the demon’s hand, immediately absorbed. Everything fades, his eyes slip back from his head and he sees Alistar standing there normally as he once did.

“Excellent, now, where can I find lodging?” The red eyed demon grinned mischeviously. The man now obviously empty, falls back to a standing position, a shell of what he once was.

“Downtown you can find a realty office, they sell houses fast and cheap, I just could never afford it,” his voice monotoned, the color drained from his cheeks, you almost would believe the man was sickened.

“Well, Steve my man, you can now, enjoy your lifetime of riches and success,” snapping his index and thumb the man’s life, as agreed, changed forever, with a huge disadvantage. Now that Alistar owned his soul, he would never walk the earth as the same man he once was.

Alistar walks away, satisfied with the deal he struck and returning back to Kanai’s side. “Man humans are so fucking stupid and desperate,” he threw his head back in a joyous chuckle. “One soul down, several million to go and I’ll out rank dad,” shooting a wink towards his obtuse partner in crime. “Anyways, Gotta go down town, there is the place called a realty office ….we talk to them and they’ll provide lodging,” exuding confidence as he pulled out his electronic box once more. “Ah, maps, that should help,” clicking the app open he input “realty office downtown” within the search bar. The GPS managed to pop up his results in a matter of seconds, giving the demon an estimation of arrival. “It says if we start now, we will get there in 26 minutes by walking….”

To Be Continued……

Author’s Notes: HAH. Snuck some snz in there. Anyway, sorry if this is so short and slow and only mildly entertaining, mostly just logisitics building and getting them into earth first, it’s all we have as of right now but we plan to write more this year 🥰

[the-consortium]

How much to get a clone made? I wanna fuck with the Imperial Fists

Oleander is busy sewing half the fingers of one of the hounds back on. Routine. The huntress sits only half-sedated - and that too more so that she doesn't have to make conversation - on an operating table, dangling very slowly with her unfixed legs and looking infinitely bored. In the air is the swelling melody of one of the old pieces of music that the Lieutenant Commander so appreciates. The Apothecary readjusts the lamp and pulls out a piece of a claw from between tattered tendon ends. "Those Eldar mutants again, huh?" The Hound doesn't even make an attempt to reply. Just shrugs her shoulder, which is not tied to the worktable. Oleander is about to reach for a sterile solution when a sudden noise comes from the adjacent hall, the Clonelord's private working retreat. The Astartes and the Hound look at each other, then at the door. Again that strange mixture of a barking snap and something that …. no. It can't be! And yet. Oleander turns slowly, realising that his body has decided that something must be threatening and he is swimming in battle hormones. But instead of one of the terrors still dwelling in the more uninhabited corners of the ancient ruins, Fabius is standing in the doorway. Holding a transcript of a message and …. laughing? He waves the note, which apparently amuses and angers him at the same time. "Entertainment! This is what we've come to! Cloning primarchs so that we can stimulate our senses, sclerosed by the centuries, with the confusion of others! Art! Hah! Not for a long time." He pauses theatrically, crumples the note and looks at the little mutant who has apparently delivered the transcript and is now staring with several wide eyes at his maker, whose behaviour is apparently puzzling to him - as it admittedly usually is. "But then again …" Fabius continues, spinning dramatically around himself "then again, that's exactly how it started. What was the point of creating Ferrus Manus so many times that it lost all meaning? So that our dear Sire could amuse himself with the illusion of having been in the right. Hah!" He sighs. Oleander and the Hound stare no less confused than the little mutant. "All right, then. Why not? A finger exercise in regression. Let the Galaxy repeat another of the old mistakes. Perhaps this time it will burn to slag from which the new will finally grow." Again he looks at the mutant, sighs: "Vox Dictamen." The voice recorder in the Chirurgeon begins recording. "Obtaining the necessary basic material should not be a problem due to the fact that apparently one hand is still present. Whether enough can still be recovered from it remains to be seen - or whether it is the real hand at all. The actual work will take up no more than the resources of a medium-sized trading world. However, I will not perform any educational duties from the time the result is able to breathe unassistent. The reward for my time will depend on what results from the work. In any case, I expect to procure a certain artefact, which will be subject to negotiation. Dictamen finit." He looks to the mutant, who nods obediently and hurries off to relay the message. Oleander draws air through his teeth. "You're making a lot of people very angry again with that. Since you realise that, I suspect boredom as the motive, Master." Fabius snorts indignantly. Oleander continues, "Both Lord Fulgrim and Abaddon will probably send their people again to prevent the work." "Good, with any luck Lucius and that whining sorcerer will be at each other's throats and peace will finally be restored!" With a grand gesture, the Clone Lord turns and disappears back into his lab. Oleander sighs. It seems to be another one of those days.

[helllords]

@id1eyouth asked: gladiolus / for aba! / ❥     𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    [   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂    ] gladiolus : describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .

He values his hellhounds for their efficiency, for their ruthlessness and, most importantly, for their loyalty. They have been sticking to his heels for centuries and both their desire to protect their master and their frightening ability to drag sinners to hell concerned the heavens greatly. Which is why ( unable to comprehend the lengths Abaddon would go for these hounds; perhaps assuming that they are nothing more than a disposable beast ) they tried to kill one of them.

He still remembers it growling, yelping, whimpering with the silver blade buried in its side. Sinking to his knees, cradling its head as he began to seethe, the flames of darkness threatening to burst through his vessel as he extracted its essence from its form and promised himself and god above that if it chose to take one of his children, then he will take one of its.