#iovita can and often does

[incendiorum-arch]

some fun facts about lucrezia's appearance:

she wears a leather collar. on it is the spell that keeps her tied to iovita's immortality (which in turn, renders her immortal).

she's a silver-and-ginger tortoiseshell tabby. the most notable part about this is that half of her face is orange tabby, and the other half is silver tabby. less notably, she has ginger blotches all over the rest of her otherwise mostly silver-tabby coat.

her eyes are yellowish-greenish.

she is very much maine coon. she's huge (~20 lbs), fluffy, and has the huge paws and tasseled ears. she likes finding ways to keep herself cool, as iovita tends to make rooms rather toasty, and this includes finding cool tile to lay on, opening the fridge/freezer, or turning on faucets so that she can lounge in/underneath water.

[incendiorum]

future me, does this get long? I'm preemptively putting it under a read-more. but I think a shipping guide is in order for io because they are. io.

first thing's first. io has the biggest trust issues in the entire world. and they are complicated trust issues. they are 'iovita's trust in people has been so thoroughly shattered that they genuinely, cannot, trust someone completely. ever.' no matter what, io is always going to have those... thoughts. they don't want those thoughts. they really, really don't. no one hates io's inability to fully trust more than they do.

I'd go so far as to say lucius is the last person they actually, fully trusted. not because he was extra special or anything, but because col is the one that stomped everything into smithereens for io. their parents had certainly fucked them over in the trust department, too, don't get me wrong. but col is the one who really... really fucked them up. if their son that they raised and loved could betray them like that? then anyone could.

which is why I am perfectly okay with io's trust issues being a complete deal breaker for relationships. it's not for everyone. and there needs to be a lot of patience involved to get io to talk about it.

io is demiromantic. they need a foundation before they start experiencing romantic attraction, and even then it's a shot in the dark. io loves so, so rarely. canonically they've only loved three people in 1,800 years. throughout the years of me writing them here on tumblr? a mere handful of ships. I know what io's type is. I also know that io's type is often more of a physical attraction than a tentatively-possible-romantic one.

beyond that, io doesn't really have a gender preference or anything, really. I... think. I do feel like it's fluctuated over their many years. I think for a while they were mostly attracted to masculinity. and more recently more attracted to femininity. but it's not a requirement at all, or anything. just... something I've noticed.

io has trauma. io has a lot of trauma. io does not handle their own trauma well. they have anger issues, they're prone to picking stupid fights, and they tend to lash out if their issues are brought up suddenly. they also tend to self-isolate and shut down if they don't want anyone to acknowledge them struggling. they dissociate. they have very bad nightmares. they sleep incredibly lightly and in fits and starts throughout a day and night.

they are also a high-functioning alcoholic. a drink, two drinks a day. casually so. but if the day is bad they will drink themself into a stupor and live to regret it the next day.

io has ongoing trauma too. the hounds are constantly on their trail, and this leads to obsessive hyper vigilance from io. constantly rechecking doors and windows and locks to the point of breakdown. they hate it. they don't want to do it. but they are, at no point, entirely safe anywhere. io no longer knows what it means to be entirely relaxed. they are always watching for their hunters.

and on that note, io kills people. specifically their hunters, but if others get caught in the middle of it all then they don't really care. io will intentionally hunt their own hunters. and io is not a merciful, quick-killer. io is a cat with a mouse and they use their hunters as an excuse to release pent-up frustration and anger. it's not pretty. and io thinks its fun.

io can love someone who won't accept that, but it's a recipe for a failure. io greatly prefers a penchant for violence in their lovers. a willing one. they like someone who can make the call to kill someone if necessary. like recognizes like, and all that.

adair! you say. where are the good things about loving io? and to that I say I'm sorry I emphasized so many of the bad things here, but I feel like it's important to stress that io is not an easy person to love.

when io does love someone they start to open up and show traits that not everyone is privy to. io can be playful, and a bit childish sometimes. they smile more for the people they love. they allow themself embarrassment over silly matters. they let people see them indulging in silly little habits. their love for all things ocean and beach related. their seashell collection. catching little lizards and snakes and showing them to you whether you like it or not. wading around in a river because there's pretty rocks to look at on the river bottom. their love for soft, squishy comforts.

io in love is devoted. io is loyal to the person they love and the person they love only.

they're protective. they're a little territorial (not... jealous. territorial - 'this is mine'). they'll kill for you, they'll take a blow for you, they'd die for you. winning io's tenuous trust is to earn their heart and their loyalty to the very end. only something really bad would shatter that.

they like sharing mundane, domestic moments. they like sharing the hobbies they love. they're more physically affectionate than they'll ever be with anyone else.

io always pulls their weight. they cook, they clean, they make the house a home I can assure you. they're handy as all-get-out, too, and love building most anything from ground up. they have an entire treasure trove of beautiful, hidden natural places to take you to. they will fully utilize inter mundos's ability to travel anywhere to... well, travel anywhere. you want dinner in another country? want to spend a week together at an isolated beach? they can do it. they want to do it.

they're incredibly patient with others' trauma, because they've been there, done that. are they as good with their own trauma? god. fuck no. but they can treat others' trauma much better. quietly, and with grace.

so yes, there's a lot of hard things to deal with when it comes to loving io and being loved by io, but there's a lot of good things, too.

anyway. my point is that io's hard to love. I greatly prefer ic interaction before thinking about ships, so that I really know how io feels and reacts to a person. long-term writing partners can, honestly, get so much more leeway with this simply because I trust them.

that being said, I am always open to flirting interactions, crushes, and unrequited love. I'll never say no to those! I just ask that you understand this silly little witch of mine a) has sooo much baggage and b) loves so goddamn rarely you can count their past loves on one hand and still have fingers left over.

[dcwnrisen-aa]

041.   the street of an unfamiliar city at night . aaaaand kindria!

Mare de Regium was a planet known mostly for being underwater, and though most of it's creatures held their base form, they often to chose their half forms to roam amongst the marbled streets bustling with business. mostly in the trades for rare gems and abundant treasures, and trade routes for minerals and metals to other planets. kindria liked to walk along these streets, simply for the pleasure of seeing the chaos that ensued after nightfall.

all was quiet though still as busy. Thoughts ease backward to he and iovita's prior conversation about coming here. it felt so wrong to continue to promise something and not allow them to see what he had. the alien prince could not move inter mundos, the magic was complicated and not like his own. instead, he cloaked both iovita and lucrezia in a protective, and breathable film made of his venom so they would be able to take breaths on his planet. inter mundos would be protected and unharmed and untouched while they traveled, he would make sure of it.

smiling to himself, he takes a hold of iovita's bicep, gently gesturing them to close their eyes as the puddle of water just infront of their feet grows wider. stepping with them, then shoving them forward so they drop just as he does. a solid grip is kept on them as they fall through the rip in space. kindria keeps his eyes open simply because he's always fascinated by the inside of the portal itself. it's not long before they stop, landing in a pathway of damp greenery and marbled walkways. ❝ ━ you can open your eyes now. sorry about that, didn't want you to get motion sickness. ❞ a sheepish grin curls across his face and he gestures toward the bright sky, the two moons shining brightly in the sky, illuminating the busy streets. sea creatures of all kind skitter in their half forms, tentacles, tails, fins, anything one could think of. even hybrids unheard of.

here on his planet, kindria's clothes are no longer earth clothes, instead robes of some sort of lavender silk, deep purple strands more luminescent and flowing at his shoulders, eyes pale but he's just as warm. though, as they stroll through the streets, kindria's very presence is met with deep bows, and reverent stares.

❝ ━ see the constellations here, you can practically reach out and touch. the stars tend to fall down into the streets. you see, they chose who deserves their power. almost like what earthlings call sentient beings. ❞ he holds out his hand as they stop in the middle of the street, light explodes from his palm before fading into a show of twinkling lights then forming into a shapeless mess, forming odd structures with just a flick of the prince's fingers. closing his palm, it extinguishes slowly. ❝ ━ we both have time, nothing but an abundance of it and i've made you many a promise, it's only right i uphold my end of it. you're one of the few people i cherish, one i'm proud to call friend. ❞

kindria sighs out a smile as he trails behind iovita and lucrezia, letting them explore on their own, while also keeping on eye on the sharks ( they tended to be shady with newcomers) and a stern look and sting was more than enough to send them on their way. and if it wasn't, reminding them of how their ruler lost his ability to speak properly was just another quiet and cruel reminder that his reign was just beginning. time passed slowly here, and kindria truly didn't mind it in these moments of experiencing the witch's curiosity.

↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺   . @venenorum

[venenorum-archive]

AS PROMISED! my obnoxiously long inter mundos post, sans drawn floorplan because I lost my tablet pen. also this is part one. part two will be for the apartment.

the bottom floor composed of three rooms: the main room, where everything is sold; the back storage/work area; and a third room with a door that leads out into an alley. the last one kind of functions as a pseudo-garage. 

THE MAIN ROOM is, as previously stated, where everything is sold. there’s bookshelves lining the walls, and they are absolutely packed full with spellbooks, grimoires, the research and theories of other witches, guidebooks by other witches, some of these written by io, etc - all in various different languages. 

there’s two long tables in the center of the room with various containers/bins/display cases for jewelry, ingredients, vessels for potions/liquids/etc, potions and poisons themselves, and the such. dried organic ingredients are kept in glass jars on shelves behind the counter.

the main counter itself is rather large, made out of oak, and weathered. there’s scattered paper across it, as well as smaller projects iovita might be working on at the time. lucrezia often carves out a spot on the counter to lounge.

the lights on the ceiling are grow lights. they’re the purple-ish ones, so they’re only turned on when the shop is closed. otherwise the shop is lit by candles or the one floor lamp next to the counter. the windows let in a fair amount of light during the day too, but honestly - it’s not uncalled for for someone to use their phone to get a good look at things during dimmer parts of the day.

there’s plants everywhere. literally. everywhere. on shelves, on the tables, on the floor, on the counter. they get rotated depending on what they need, or set outside on the street - with appropriate magic to make sure no one steals them.

THE BACK STORAGE/WORK AREA is exactly as it sounds. this is also where the stairs are to get to the apartment. any metalworking by io is done here, although the lighter stuff has a tendency to… escape into other rooms.

there’s so much back here. io said maximalism. 

THE PSEUDO GARAGE is what it sounds like. there’s a space that io made sure to exist between inter mundos and any other buildings, creating an alleyway. this room has a door leading into it. the motorcycle is kept back there for whenever io needs it, which is usually only when io can’t walk somewhere - i.e. in more spread-out cities, countryside, etc. yeah they have a bunch of different country’s license plates for it just to keep attention off them.

the motorcycle is that t.riumph t110.

this room also functions as a ‘more storage’ kind of thing.

THE FRONT OF THE SHOP is two bay windows and a wood door between them. there’s a small balcony upstairs with a wrought iron balustrade - home to vining plants. there’s a little bell on the window and a sign that says: HOURS: ???-???.

io really, really does open at random times. it’s whenever they feel like it. it can be at 2 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon. it can be open for an hour or twelve. sometimes io forgets to close and open and will look at customers in surprise when they come in because they did.

there’s also a sign that can be flipped between open and closed.

the door can be locked through normal and magical means.

there’s no customer bathroom. no you can’t use the one upstairs. go somewhere else.

SMALLER DETAILS include the smallest glimpse of black-painted spells lining the walls behind the shelves. these are the ones that move the shop.

the floors are wood and some of the boards creak, but are otherwise sturdy.

there’s a couple of scorch marks here and there. a burnt handprint in the counter.

lucrezia also likes to lounge in the bay windows, between potted plants.

she ALSO likes to jump up onto the bookshelves and smack people as they go by. there’s one specific book she likes to knock to the floor.

the shop is fairly cluttered, to be honest. it’s organized in the ‘io knows where everything is but good luck to everyone else’ kind of way.

so many plants are toxic. io loves their poisonous plants.

there’s an oil painting behind the counter, off on a side wall. it’s clearly older, and also clearly of iovita. it’s warm and comfortable and made with absolute care - the kind of thing that was made by someone who loved them.

inter mundos is always warm. it doesn’t ever drop below 70F.

[subject-v]

Hair (whumptober 16)

Recovery, scars, aftermath

Five experiments with sexual intimacy for the first time since being tortured.

TW: sex, discussion of abuse, burns

Whumptober2021, no. 16, recovery, OC, fic, nsfwhump, discussion of abuse, burns, five, cassian, livia, comfort

3000 words

When I return early from the library, Livia is in Cassian’s room, both of them huddled in Cassian’s bed though it isn’t particularly cold. At the sound of the door swinging shut, Livia, red-faced and a bit sweaty, pulls the blanket up over her bare chest. A second later, Cassian appears from under the sheets, blushing. “Hey, Five.” He clears his throat. “Liv said you’d gone.”

“I came back,” I sign. “What are you doing to her?”

He goes, if anything, redder. I realize that, like Livia, he has no shirt on, and his hair is all in disarray. “We are… having sex,” he says slowly.

“What’s that?”

Livia laughs, higher pitched than usual. She’s let her hair out of its braids and some of it sticks to her neck as she sits up. “It’s a thing humans do that feels good.”

“Like eating?”

“Sort of. It feels a little different than eating.”

“But it’s done with no clothes?”

“Often, yes.”

“Interesting.” I sit at Cassian’s desk and take out my book, planning to count all the seven-letter words, but I can still feel their eyes on me. “Why are you looking at me funny?”

“You’re going to stay here?” wonders Cassian.

“Yes, to work with these books.”

“But-we’re-we… Usually this is something that happens without an audience.”

“I’m not watching,” I promise him.

Livia bares her teeth, more amused than threatening. “Five, can you give us another hour?”

“A whole hour?” I demand.

Cassian groans and shifts a few inches away from her. “It’s fine, Liv. I’m honestly not convinced I could continue.”

“Fine,” mutters Livia, snatching her shirt off the floor. She, I note, has a chest more like mine than Cassian’s. Is that why humans wear their hair at different lengths? To indicate what sort of bodies they have? Why bother with the clothes if they were just going to tell everyone anyway? “Five, next time, you mind staying away a little longer?”

“How am I supposed to know how long?”

“One of us can come get you.”

“When you’re done, can I try?”

Cassian and Livia make eye contact. Cassian speaks first. “What?”

“When you’re done, can I try?”

“Well it’s not… humans don’t just…”

Livia laughs. “It’s just sex, Cassian. Five, I’d be happy to. How about tomorrow?”

“You have long hair, like me. Is that allowed?”

“Long hair? You mean I’m a woman? Yeah, that’s fine. You’re kind of like a wifere so it’s not even really gay.”

“What’s that?”

She shows me the sign. “It’s when you like people of the same gender. Like a man who likes to have sex with men, a wifere who likes to have sex with wifere, that sort of thing.”

“Cassian is gay?”

“Yes, but,” she adds quickly. “It’s sort of like you being a being. It’s important to keep it a secret.”

“Does it have to be just you? Or can Cassian come too?”

“You… want to have sex with both of us?” Next to her, Cassian turns beet red.

I don’t want anything—I’m merely curious. “Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, there aren’t rules, as long as everyone involved is into it.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Um.” Livia glances at Cassian.

“No, no,” he says, throwing up his hands. “Don’t worry about asking me, just put the threesome with the immortal demon trapped in a human body on my schedule.”

“I’m asking now.”

Cassian looks at me in a new way, one I don’t totally understand. It reminds me of Iovita, but kinder, like he sees me as an object and a being, instead of just one or the other. “Okay, sure, why not? I’m not,” he adds, counting off on his fingers. “Hitting you. Cutting you. Choking you. Beating you. No pain, okay? Hard limit.”

“That would be distracting anyway.”

I almost forget about the plan until the next day when Cassian interrupts my code work with a question in his eyes. Behind him, Livia is already shrugging off her cape and chain mail and even from that distance, I can tell they’ve just come from training—her shoes and ankles are stained with mud and Cassian has a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “After a wash?” Livia asks. “Or now, whichever.”

“Now works.” I’m making no progress on this cipher anyway.

How do you want to start?”

“How do you normally start?”

“Well, I like to get things over with, keep it moving, but Cassian here is a sap who prefers to take his time.”

Cassian gives her his what the hells expression, which is a nice change of pace—usually, I’m on the receiving end of that one.

“What sort of touching do you like?” asks Livia. “What areas, I mean.”

I blanch. How can you even answer a question like that? I’m fine with people touching me anywhere—it doesn’t scare me, it doesn’t hurt, and even if it does hurt, I’ve done worse to myself before, so what does it matter whether I like it?

Cassian understands my confusion.  “Can I play with your hair?”

The question leaves me stunned for long enough to make them both worried but then I shrug and sit down, back to him, so he can have at it. He starts at the bottom, running slow fingers through the thick locks to unravel any knots, then moving up, lifting it, letting it twist between his fingers, dropping it again. The sensation is… difficult to describe. Dex used to pull my hair, or drag me around by it, and Iovita sometimes tied it to things or pulled chunks of it out, and this feels sort of like that, but softer. The pain is less pressing and more like tingles. Perhaps it isn’t even pain at all, though I cannot help but compare it to a fire on my scalp. It takes me a minute to realize my eyes have closed, or that my jaw hangs slightly open. I don’t make a noise—Iovita’s lessons in silence remain all but unbreakable—but I sit up straighter, move closer to him until I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back.

A soft pressure as Livia removes my shoes and presses her palm into the sole of my foot. My breathing increases and, worried, Cassian stops. “You good?”

I nod. How many times had I given Dex a foot massage, crouched under his desk, and I’d never thought to wonder why he requested them, but they felt good. Livia’s fingers are thick, calloused, excellent at working through the knots until I could walk over glass without tensing. I almost suggest this as the next activity before I remember Cassian’s ban on any pain.

It’s Livia who carries me to the bed and while I fiddle about, wondering whether I should take off my clothes or not, she and Cassian kiss. She’s fierce, hungry, her hands woven through his hair to press him closer and he meets her with the same intensity, like they are two parts trying to merge back into one whole. She tugs off his shirt, casts it aside, and he does the same to her, and then he’s on his back next to me, her hands on his shoulders, pinning him down like I’ve been before but he doesn’t seem to mind. He twists his head, kisses me, and the stubble on his chin scrapes against my cheek. Dex’s face was like that too and suddenly, I cannot move.

I don’t think they notice at first. Livia’s hands are all over Cassian. He tugs up my skirt, ducks under the sheets. Now Livia is kissing me, one hand on my hair, pulling it harder than Cassian did, though the pain is electrifying. A new sensation, one I’ve never felt before, and I tense enough that they both move back. “You okay, Five?” wonders Livia. Cassian emerges from the sheets, worried.

I need to catch my breath before I can sign, “I’m just waiting for it to be over.”

“Then it’s over,” says Cassian.

“We didn’t do it, though.”

“So?”

I stare at him blankly. What does he mean, so? We need to have sex so I can start to get over my fear of it, and then we can work up to some of the yuckier stuff Dex put me through until I’m not scared of that either. If we stop here, I’ve given up, the fear wins, but Cassian is already rolling out of bed. They leave and return together, much cleaner than before, and I’m in the same position, staring at the ceiling, wishing I’d said nothing at all. In the Keep, if I’d tried and failed to hurt myself, I’d always redoubled my efforts right away lest the fear grow too big.

“Where do you want to sleep?” asks Livia, yawning. She’s in night clothes now and her hair is back in its braids.

“I-” My hands betray me, won’t let me ask them to try again.

“Do you want to sleep here, with us, or in your room?” asks Cassian.

I raise one finger and he nods. After a bit of finagling with blankets and pillows, I’ve built enough separation between us that I don’t have to feel them as I fall asleep, but I still wake up with Cassian’s arms around me, except they might not be his arms, they might be Dex’s, and even though I know they aren’t and can’t be, tears pool in my eyes. Why can’t I do this? I’m bad at being human, I know that: I like pain too much and I don’t like s making noise, but if I have to suffer and break and hurt like a human, why can’t I enjoy pleasure like one too? Why can I hear Cassian’s soft breathing, feel it on my neck, recognize his smell, and still not be sure it’s really him there?

“You good?” whispers Livia and, with a start, I realize she’s on the other side of the bed, struggling into a set of pants. Light isn’t yet spilling through the window, but black hands start their days early—Dex always did, before he became emperor and got the right to sleep in.

I nod.

“Okay. I only ask because you’re crying so…”

Cassian has my arms pinned to my sides so I can’t sign without waking him and I just stare at Livia as she finishes getting dressed. At last, she says, “Do you want me to wake him up?”

I shake my head. Not after what he’s already done for me.

“We can probably get you out of there without waking him.”

My eyes gives away my desire and she slips a hand under Cassian’s. Slowly, she breaks the grip he has near my stomach and places his arm on his hip. His breath catches and we both freeze, eyes locked, her expression mischievous, mine terrified, but his breathing returns to normal a moment later and she half drags me off the bed and to the floor, where I scramble to Cassian’s bathroom. A servant has lit the brazier in there already and I dig my hand—my treacherous, shaking hand—into the depth of the coals, selecting a medium-sized one to hold, to squeeze close. The outside pain irradicates the inside pain in an instant until it’s all I can think about, and then, as the ember continues to burn my palm, the pain fades to something more comfortable, familiar. It’s as I’ve always known: surviving pain is about embodying it until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

I place the coal back into the brazier, find Cassian’s razor, and respawn to heal the nasty hole in my hand. When I am fully clothed, I set to work on my ciphers and Cassian, like the layabout he is, takes another hour before he wakes up. When he passes me, his hands brush the top of my head almost absently, like a way of saying hello, and my scalp lights up again.

He pauses. “Sorry. I should’ve asked.”

“It was fine,” I say. “Can we try again tonight?”

“I have a dinner with Juliana.”

I bite my lip.

“What’s wrong?” He pulls up a chair and sits before I can gather my thoughts, before I can even decide whether to tell him or not, and then he looks at me with those stupid soft eyes and I can’t help myself.

“In the Keep, I kept myself safe by hurting myself more than I knew Iovita would ever hurt me.”

His face remains carefully neutral. He hasn’t forgiven himself for his role in my torture at the Keep, ironic, given I don’t care about it at all.

“Whenever I had a thought that made me wince, I had to do it. I couldn’t let fear control me. If I can’t do this, I’ll start to fear it, and if I fear it, people can hurt me with it.”

Cassian sighs, his shoulders slumped. “Five, you don’t need to enjoy sex, or be neutral towards it. You can dislike it. You can hate it. It’s not your job to be able to emotionally withstand torture. At some point, it becomes other people’s jobs not to hurt you anymore, not yours to just take it.”

“They will, though. They always hurt me. Living hurts me.”

He hesitates before he nods. “Maybe some things will always hurt. We can’t like them. We just can’t. And so if they happen, we learn to deal with them, after, and you know what, we heal. We survive.”

He can say that. He’s never looked into an infinite future of pain.

“It’s different for me, I know. But, you don’t have to like being hurt. You can admit you don’t like some thing and still survive them. Your sanity does not rest on wanting people to hurt you.”

I swallow, suddenly struck by the urge to cry and he hasn’t even touched me.

“I’m sorry, Five.”

How can my sanity rest on anything else? Embracing the pain kept the essence of myself alive in the Keep, only that, and so surely, I must also embrace the alienation and disgust of being helpless and touched. Except, I’m not in the Keep anymore. Were someone to try to touch me, I am in a reasonable position to tell them off, or tell Cassian or Livia to do it. I’ve seen Livia with a sword—she can fight anyone, and Cassian looks scary, with his broad shoulders and sculpted arms, even if he is a bunny on the inside. Who, truly, can touch me, the favored servant of the black and grey hand? Dex is a block away in a palace and not even he dares pluck me from my safety here. Maybe I can just leave that pain, not forever, but for a time. If I end up in another hellscape, I can deal with it then, I can return to my strategy of inoculation. But until then, why?

I let that thought linger. Don’t conquer the fear of waterboarding or sex or anything else—let myself remain afraid, let myself admit my preferences without trying to overpower them. What if I could embody that inside pain the way I could on the outside? Live in the fear. Make it my own. And, like holding a burning coal, watch the emotion fade away.

I didn’t have to like it to be able to survive it.

I meet Cassian’s eyes. “I like it when you play with my hair but I don’t like sleeping in the same bed at you.”

He makes a bemused face that quickly breaks into a smile. “Thank you for telling me. I like playing with your hair too. There’s still time before breakfast. Do you want me to braid it like Livia always does?”

A part of me recoils from the question and I hold that feeling without dropping or hiding it. I’m allowed to feel uncomfortable when people ask me questions. And I’m also allowed to say: “Yes, I would like that.”

[moonlit-grove]

5 am and I'm thinking about characters... so many thoughts. Also I'm sunburnt to shit and it HURTS so let's talk about it

Asura definitely have sunscreen. They definitely are not adapted to living in the sun. Lexii doesn't burn easily but when she does it is BAD. She got a condition from her mother thay makes her feel really sick when she's sunburnt.

Norn are probsvly more resistant to it? Considering snow reflects light. They more often tan rather than burn but can still burn. Ylva definitely tans more often.

Sylvari do sunburn but it depends on the type they are how it manifests. A lot of the time it's turning a yellow-y color, sometimes splotches appear. Vie's petals and any part that extends and dangles off her body wilt a little.

Humans burn and they hurt. Karam keeps sunscreen on the ship for really bad days and will order the crew to put it on.

Charr probably burn??? It's just harder to see with their fur. Light-furred burn more easily while dark-furred just get hotter before burning. Iovita, the poor thing, burns EXTREMELY easily and has to be careful of how much time they're spending in the sun. Albinism is not fun.

[oldevour]

new additions — louis russel, the no entry bar, and his two closest confidants:

found in los angeles, the entrance to no entry is hard to find, but once found, is a private place for anyone nonhuman. humans are usually turned away in advance via magic — spells that make them turn away for one reason or another ( it depends on the person. some might forget what they were doing, others may get distracted by something across the street ). very few have the strength of will to push past that magic. accidental humans who somehow make it through get quickly turned back.

louis is a vampire, turned in 1926. he was originally a tier-one magic user, and the unfortunate combination means he needs both the blood and magic of others to survive. 

he started no entry during prohibition, before he was turned, and when prohibition was lifted, kept the club around as a place for nonhumans specifically. he quickly became well-known, not only for the place itself, but because of everything else that goes on in that place. louis turns a blind eye on anything shady, but rest assured, he always knows exactly what goes on in his bar.

no entry isn’t small — it’s four stories up and a basement down below. the bar is on the first floor, a sitting area on the second, and living areas on the top two floors. the basement is for underground fighting ( keith has fought here ).

louis very, very rarely leaves no entry. he has piss-poor luck on the outside, and since being turned has left no entry a whopping four times. instead, he has a well-established network of info-gatherers in the form of shapeshifters, particularly shapeshifters who have small or otherwise unassuming forms (dogs, cats, mice, songbirds, gulls, etc.). 

he hoards information. sits on it like a dragon. he rarely gives it away for free, but he will swap information for information.

arkady is one of his shifters, who often appears in the form of a borzoi, posing as louis’s pet and collecting information from inside the bar. he is an established shifter, and can also take the form of a bull moose, which is significantly less unassuming but valuably dangerous. he does not expect any additional forms to be added to his repertoire. 

he’s often found in borzoi form, and is incredibly comfortable in it. sometimes, however, he works the bar in human form. very few people know that he is also louis’s ‘pet’ borzoi. iovita, notably, is one of those few. 

saskia is another of louis’s shifters, who leaves no entry more frequently in order to keep the rest of the shifters in line. she’s also an established shifter, and can take the form of an american mink and a long-eared owl. she’s highly expecting the addition of a third.

it should be noted that oleander was briefly one of louis’s info-gatherers. they needed money for college, and he pays handsomely. sometimes if they want a little extra cash, they reach out to either him or saskia, but very animatedly refuse to do anything dangerous.

[venenorum-arch]

007 ----- BLOOD MAGIC

io has two main types of magic — the one they were born with, fire-aligned and volatile as it is, and the one they learned, which would be blood magic.

blood magic is one of those that earns a bad rep because it’s seen as dark magic. truthfully, it can be used for good or for bad, as even a pinprick of blood can strengthen a spell beyond normal means. io, who sits comfortably at morally gray, uses it for either purpose. it’s useful magic — it makes spells significantly stronger, and, for io, relies more on pure intent than wordy spells, meaning they can use pure strength of will and far less words to work their magic. it makes it a handy thing to have in a pinch.

the downside is that it still uses their own innate power. it uses less of it, that is true, but once the blood magic spell is in motion there’s no stopping it. if the spell requires all the user’s power, then it’s going to take all of the user’s power. the spells also can’t be reversed. once they’re created, they’re created, and there’s no going back. while using it in a pinch, it means that their intent cannot slip or change, less the magic decides the spell has changed and does something else not planned for.

in the settings of using it to strengthen sigils or careful, planned-for spells, however, it’s not really a dangerous magic, just a powerful enhancer. it’s even part of the paint that went into creating the sigils that layer the walls of inter mundos, and has proved valuable to strengthening the shop’s power and purpose.

even so, iovita is marked by their choice; silver-white scars adorn their fingers, palms, and lower arms, and they often always have a knife on hand; whether on a belt or tucked into a boot. 

[jellyfish-neo]

Recent OC Summaries!

These are all for an urban fantasy or science fantasy setting, not sure yet. Several of them are or could be interconnected. A couple race descriptions may be thrown in. I also may have been inspired by Good Omens to do some angel/demon stuff?? Also i’m gonna add some gender/sexuality stuff not because it’s important but because it’s fun! Anyway here we go:

Race: Astomi

The astomi, originally from Greek/Roman mythology, are mouthless people who live off of sweet-smelling fruit and flowers. Bad smells weaken and can potentially kill these beings, and the pollution of a modern world has made them very few and far between. When one of the few astomi left attempts to warn the public of the very real danger this brings them, they are silenced.

Iovita | Aromantic, Asexual, Agender

Vita is a 20-year-old astomi. They wear a face mask to hide their lack of a mouth as well as shield their nose from the pollution they’re inevitably bathed in living in a city. They communicate using sign language, and their queerplatonic partner, Ashton, acts as their interpreter when necessary. The two work at a small office and art supply store, but also earn some money on the side doing non-criminal forgery. They won’t fake signatures or anything like that, but Vita uses their talent for forging handwriting to write letters, essays, and papers for anyone who’s willing to pay, and Ashton acts as their interpreter and, on occasion, bodyguard. Vita is very tired most of the time due to their weak condition, but they’re calm and observant. Sure, they’re willing to break most rules to get what they want, but they’ve got enough morality to not do anything too bad and enough sense to keep said rule-breaking minor enough to not get caught.

Ashton | Pansexual, Nonbinary

Ashton, a 20-year-old human, dropped out of magic college last year. They wanted to go into combat magic, specializing in fire magic (the coolest kind), but as it turns out, they were okay at plant magic and terrible with fire. This was not all bad though, since they could use it to help their best friend and eventual QPP! This isn’t a one-sided thing, though, since Vita’s survival instincts often help Ashton keep out of trouble. Ashton is very rebellious, and can be rather arrogant and rude at times, getting them into fights. While they’re not great at combat magic, they can certainly hold their own with their fists. If you can get past their somewhat annoying exterior, however, you’ll find an excitable person who’s fiercely supportive and protective of their friends. They also have a girlfriend from magic school named Mari.

Mari | Trans Woman, Bisexual (attracted to women and nb people)

Mari is a gifted elven wizard going to magic college for praecantology (the study of magic) and combat magic. She and Ashton had plans to start an adventuring party together since middle school, but when Ashton started having trouble with combat magic, Mari was the first to tell them they didn’t have to go that route. She would have loved to carry out a career with her partner, but if it wasn’t meant to be, it wasn’t meant to be. She still plans to be an adventurer, and they’ll have to figure out how to do a long-distance relationship when that time comes, but the for now she’s content renting an apartment with Ashton and Vita. Mari is an ambitious person, but she’s still got her fair share of caution. She does, however, have a bad habit of trying to fix other people’s problems. She doesn’t think she knows the best for anyone, but she can spend so much time worrying about issues that have nothing to do with her that she has barely enough energy to do things for herself. When she’s not in such a state, she’s quite responsible. She also bakes. Really well.

Races: Angels and Demons

Angels and demons are viewed as very different beings, and they come in many different forms, but they all share one thing in common: they are forged by gods. Angels are forged in the heat of stars by a god of order, while demons are forged in the depths of the earth by a god of chaos. They’re not as simple as good or evil, either. If the world is bathed in the chaos of war and disaster, angels are the ones to attempt to fix it, while strict regimes and stagnant societies are best fixed by the demons.

Devrim | Demiwoman, Aromantic

Devrim is a humanoid demon who thinks the mortals have gotten too boring for their own good. Sure, they’re not all filing taxes with their money from their 9-5 jobs, but there hasn’t been a revolution in like, four whole years. Not a serious one, anyway. And, even worse: not a single person has stepped up to even attempt the trials of godhood in a century. Even the kid who did it last time was an outlier who was seen as insane. To fix this problem and make those who believe they’re ‘in charge’ a bit less cozy, Dev has set aside her centuries of  notable protests, wild parties, and minor crimes to gather a group of mortals to shake the pantheon up a bit! She may seem like the irresponsible “they’ll figure it out for themselves” type, but she’s really the irresponsible “they’ll figure it out for themselves after I shove them in the right direction” type.

Declan | Agender, Aromantic

Declan is a humanoid angel with a poorly-disguised grudge against Devrim. They say everything they do is for the sake of order, and while order may be the lense through which they see everything else, it’s certainly not their only motivator. That other motivator is malice. They may not show it, but they thrive on getting in other people’s way. This is likely because this gets them praise from the higher-ups. Either way, Declan’s got some mysterious beef with Dev, and they’ll stop her with any lawful means possible.

Blaine | Trans Man, Demiromantic

Blaine is an absolute ray of sunshine, or, at least, he tries to be. You see, he’s been half-possessed by a demon rat sent by the chaos god themself for about a year now, and this rat’s intentions are a lot less ‘good’ than Devrim’s. The rat, who Blaine calls Pla, was sent to find a mortal to cause as much chaos as possible, and forcing a person like Blaine to do it was sure to get Pla some extra credit. While he’s not fully possessed all the time, Blaine must do Pla’s bidding, or else they’ll take over his body. The possession is terrifying and painful when it happens, and yields the same result either way, and after a month or two of trying to fight him off, he pretty much gave up and started hoping for someone to stop him. The tasks he is forced to carry out range from spreading panic-inducing rumors to murdering people and sending fake threats. Blaine refuses to let his anguish show, instead showing the world a happy, polite, and positive person when he can. He also tends to believe in other people more than he believes in himself.

Torny | Lesbian

Torny is in a similar situation to Blaine, but she’s certainly not having nearly as bad a time. As a chaotic person who does whatever she wants without any thought to the consequences, an cat-shaped angel whom she calls Peir has taken on the role of her magical therapist while also giving her ‘lessons’ by having her help people. Peir doesn’t control her unless she’s about to do something drastic like hit someone. Torny likes motorcycling, starting fights, and fantasy animal crossing punk rock.

[venenorum-a]

iovita’s most powerful spells are the ones that require the most magic ---- e.g. ones that they use very rarely, as the recovery period takes days to weeks depending on the spell. most fights can be finished with smaller, less intensive spells, but some require the big guns, of which iovita is happy to bring to the table

one of their most dangerous is done with blood magic, usually accomplished with a single word: ‘envenom.’ the spell mimics the way hemotoxic venom works by destroying blood cells, interfering with clotting, causing hemorrhaging, and dropping blood pressure. effects vary depending on a) the victim and b) how much magic iovita uses to initiate the spell. long term effects are possible, death highly likely for weaker victims. this one uses up massive amounts of magic, and tends to drain it away slowly as the victim dies. it’s a dangerous spell to both parties involved, and iovita only uses it if they know they can get away with it. it also has a tendency to take several minutes to take effect ---- the crueler side of io enjoys this thoroughly

when it comes to spirits, iovita is often a good match. they can gather the energy of their own magic and bear down on the energy of spirits, either tearing it apart or pulling that energy in for their own use. the latter often ‘overcharges’ them. their body is only built to host a certain amount of magic at one time, and overcharging makes their already chaotic magic doubly so. the other downside is that a powerful spirit can do the same to them; siphoning off their energy for its own use. such a thing often only happens when iovita strays too close, or lets their attention slip for a second too long

their ability to use fire is another that can become rapidly dangerous. not just because iovita can summon flames easily, but because fire can be very, very hard to control. they can exercise their own will over flames to an extent; once a fire becomes too large it has its own will and will create its own carnage. it’s the fact that io can create these massive fires if left unchecked, and such things are often direct products of their inability to control their own emotions. their magic reacts, unchecked and uncontrollable, to the strongest of their feelings. when it does so, it manifests in electrical charges or spontaneous fires that can easily cause damage

[incendiorum]

LUCIUS TEACHES IOVITA TO RIDE on his dun mare, xanthos, who is a truly patient goddess among horses, because iovita is unbalanced and nervous and clings to her mane like a lifeline. they find themself stooping forward often, pressing their palms to her withers. try as they might, they can't quite replicate lucius's easy, straight-backed confidence atop a horse. don’t use the reins to balance yourself, lucius had warned them, voice kind but brown eyes serious. can you imagine your mouth getting yanked around like that?

“ can I touch you? ” lucius asks. he always asks.

iovita finds it both infuriating and touching.

“ … yes. ”

his touch is both firm and gentle as he repositions their leg. “ sit up a little more – there we go. keep it like that. ” he moves over to xantho’s other side and flicks his gaze back up to iovita, hand hovering over their leg.

“ I said yes, ” iovita points out.

“ not for this one, ” lucius retorts. he still doesn’t touch them.

iovita scowls back and refuses to say anything. lucius doesn’t budge either, one brow lifted, pleasant smile firmly in place. when their scowl deepens his lips twitch a little further upwards. bastard.

“ why do you even ask? ” they finally blurt out. lucius’s other eyebrow joins the first, smile vanishing.

“ io, you act like a kicked dog. I really don’t want to give you a reason to bite me. ”

oh. iovita looks away. “ you can touch me. ” he does so, adjusting their leg to match the first. “ I don’t act like a kicked dog. ”

“ I beg to differ, ” he replies easily. “ you even get nervous over your food like one. sit up. relax your hips. stop glaring. you’re going to make xanthos nervous. ”

“ I am not glaring, ” iovita hisses, glaring. xanthos shifts under them, and their irritation is replaced with a rush of panic. they slap their palms down against her withers again. xanthos turns her ears back but doesn’t move again.

lucius just hums and steps back. “ keep that leg position. walk her in a circle. lean back, again. you keep leaning forward. ”

“ ’lean back,’ ” iovita mocks under their breath, nudging xanthos forward. “ ’stop glaring,’ he says. ‘stop being nervous on a huge animal with rocks for feet.’ ”

xanthos snorts. iovita huffs back. “ do not start with me. ” she flicks an ear but doesn’t offer another opinion, plodding them both around in a slow circle. iovita forces themself to relax, and finds that lucius’s advice has made their passage a little easier. they glance over briefly, to see him sitting on a fallen log next to the clearing, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, watching.

“ pater! ” comes a cry, and col launches himself, gracelessly, over the log. he hits the ground face-first, pops right back up, and asks, “ can I ride, too? ”

lucius, lips twisted in amusement, flicks his gaze to iovita. “ that depends. maybe you should ask io if they’re done, first. ”

“ I am. I am done, ” iovita says quickly, before col can even turn and give them puppy eyes. they shift their weight back a bit further, like lucius told them, and xanthos comes to a stop just as he joins them to grab the reins.

when iovita slips back onto the ground, legs shaking a little, lucius smiles at them, steps around, and jumps onto xanthos in one smooth leap, leaning down to scoop col up and place the kid in front of him. 

he holds the reins in one hand and col with the other, and as he urges xanthos into a slow trot, col yells, “ faster! faster! ”

their canter is a slow one. xanthos always has at least one of her ears back, mindful of her precious cargo. col doesn’t seem to notice her hesitance. instead, his gleeful giggles ring through the air.

iovita can’t help but smile.

[venenorum-archive]

The moon was bright tonight, shining down on the shop he approached. He wasn't much of a talker, his Aunt knew that but he's curious about the one who held her heart in their hand. He's never seen her in love, this meant she let someone in and he's elated for her. Entering the shop, he's greeted by warmth, and there's a feline at the counter gazing at him curiously. He returns that gaze, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. After a moment, the demi-god reclines his head respectively before turning his head at the footsteps coming toward them. "Iovita?" Somehow it feels impolite to simply say their name so casually but he'd rather not be rude.

"I...uh, I'm Hekate's nephew...AJ. " The last thing he needs is to have magic thrown around especially given how they were looking at him. Olympus forbidden, his Aunt would kill him for making them suspicious. " I just wanted the chance to meet you. In all of my centuries being raised by her, I've never seen her so...smitten. If it were up to her, you'd be the world's only wonder. " He shrugs, folding his arms over his stomach, tipping his head down. " You have her loyalty, her heart and her trust. Things not easily attained. For that, you have my loyalty as well, please take care of her for me, she gets really lonely sometimes but she zmiles whenever she mentions you...I worry that all these years alone have taken a piece of her. A piece you've given back..."

unprompted.

          IT’S NOT OUTLANDISH FOR INNOCENT people to come in to inter mundos already knowing iovita’s name. after all, they’ve had eighteen centuries to make a name for themself, and they have. among supernaturals and hunters both. even so, it still makes them instinctively tense up, shoulders rising and gaze narrowing into steel slits. they’re about to ask how he knows who they are when he forges forward, not giving them the chance.

          hekate’s nephew.

          “ oh, ” they say, simply. “ I’ve heard of you. ” truly, they would be more surprised if they hadn’t. hekate clearly adores him as her family, and if she trusts him then…

          their shoulders relax, and they give him a slight nod, moving over to the counter to stroke their fingers through lucrezia’s long, pale fur as aj continues. he is one of those few people in this world that carry a mountain of power with them, iovita muses silently. not as immense and all-consuming as hekate’s, but she is a goddess. and perhaps it isn’t a mountain that he carries with him. it’s more like a thunderhead, building over distant peaks. it intrigues them, but this isn’t the time for prying, curious questions.

          “ smitten, ” they echo, tipping their head. the world’s only wonder. you have her heart. it may not be coming from hekate directly, but it’s still romantic enough to bring heat to their cheeks. even the thought of me makes her smile, huh? coughing, they turn their head away from him, trying to hide the flush they know is visible on their face. sweet words like these are often the only things that can make them react like this, and it’s embarrassing every single time.

          “ I feel much the same way about her, ” they say when they think they’ve regained enough composure, slate gaze flicking back towards him. “ certain things are best kept between your aunt and I but… I trust her in the ways that I can. I love her, too. not many people can match me like she can. and not many people remind me of the things I’ve lost to time like she does. I’ll take care of her. ” // @solaoccasum

[venenorum-archive]

❝ ━ i'd ask you to trust me, but that is never easily given. ❞ a small grin as she reaches out with her magic, letting it merge with iovita's and it swells and swells, filling the shop. this way iovita does not lose magic and tire themselves out. reaching out, the goddess grasps their hand, gently tugging them outside. they took her where she wanted to go, so in turn, hekate takes them back to the rome hundreds of years ago. it's there before their eyes, to touch and to take in, to live once more. it's not often she lets herself use this part of her power, but iovita deserves a trip down memory lane and if she can give that to them, then it's a small price to pay. ❝ ━ ....is it as you remember it? ❞

❝ they might cry tbh.

          THE SWELL OF HER POWER is a welcome and impressive thing, pressing against iovita until their ears pop. “ that... ” they say when it fades, “ was a lot of magic. ” and the reason is given as soon as they step out, confronted by a cityscape they haven’t seen in centuries. immediately, they stumble, reaching out to grab near-painfully onto her shoulder, voice rasping, catching in their throat. “ rome? ”

          they push away from her, wobbling like a fawn. hands tremble as they reach out, pressing a palm against the nearest building. when it doesn’t melt away against their fingertips, they gasp, choked and rattling. “it’s... it’s...” it’s home. it’s really home. they turn, staring down at the street, watching with wide, wide eyes the flicker of people on the busier thoroughfare, the echoing four-beat pattern of horse hooves on flagstones. they know this street, it pulls at distant memories, and they think even now they could follow the paths they’ve only been able to see in their dreams. it would all be whole again, the statues still painted, the arches still proud and tall, the amphitheaters not yet torn apart. people would talk to them in latin and it would sound like music to their ears.

          it’s home and it’s right in front of them. it’s exactly as they remember it.

          what did they possibly do to deserve this? for a moment they stare at her in a mixture of confusion and awe, a trace of expectation in their eyes, as if they think she’ll ask them for a favor in return, payment of some sort. this is too grand a gift to not want something in return. but that isn’t asked for, and they turn away again, to take in their surroundings and breathe deep. it’s not forest-sweet air, but it’s roman air, and despite being a city, it could be the sweetest thing in the world for all they care.

          slowly, overwhelmed beyond all capability, they sink down in the middle of the road, put their elbows on their knees, and put their face in their hands. not a single word is said, the witch rendered completely speechless. // @solaoccasum

[venenorum-archive]

the goddess sets down a plate with some of lucrezia's favorites, just as iovita had told her, just so she can treat the feline. hekate quite liked having the chance to spoil her, it's not often she's the one giving offerings, after all.

❝ unprompted.

          UNBLINKING AND UNMOVING, THE feline stares back at her for several long moments. the scent of food tickles her nostrils, and it is tempting. but she wants to figure the goddess out. or, more accurately, the goddess’s intentions. when they first met, she had quite enjoyed the praise. she hadn’t enjoyed the interest in her witch afterwards, however. and she hasn’t appreciated the continued interest. hekate might be a goddess, but that means little to lucrezia. if she has to fight tooth and claw to keep her witch all to herself, then so be it.

          but...

          maybe...

          she’ll reconsider, for a meal as nice as this.

          finally, she moves, tip of her tail twitching as she ducks her head down to eat a piece of chicken. yes, for an offering like this, she can be somewhat good. and she even goes so far as to stand up, prowling closer to hekate, reaching her nose up to brush it against the goddess’s own.

          she does, of course, pair it with the lightest bite, just the touch of sharp teeth around the tip of hekate’s nose for good measure. can’t have her getting too ahead of herself when it comes to iovita, anyway. // @solaoccasum 

[venenorum-archive]

"You've left a mark." It's more an observation than anything - tentatively does Kendji move his turtleneck so he can see in the mirror, maskless face pursed in amused expression as he turns to them. "Mind if i leave one of my own?" sir this is a wendy's

❝ unprompted.

          “ I WENT EASY, TOO, all things considered. ” where kendji looks amused, iovita looks thoroughly pleased with their work. fingers curl around his chin when he turns, tilting his head so they can get a better look. oh, they definitely could have left more if they wanted, and the thought tempts them as much as his own words do. 

          their grip changes, still loose, but thumbing absently over the scar on his face. it’s nice, seeing him without his mask, they muse silently. curiously enamored, you could call the witch, as much as they’ve spent their time around him lately, even if it’s often been with certain goals in mind. “ be good and kiss me first, hm? then, ” they tip their head, letting silver hair slide away from the smooth skin of their neck, shamefully unmarked as it is, “ you can leave as many as you want ━ I like how they look. ” // @kvckass

[venenorum-archive]

         one of the biggest roadblocks to get past with io and relationships is definitely their trust issues. it’s one of those fundamental learnings developed during childhood, which their parents definitely did not provide. their punishments for iovita often included denying them certain needs. taking away food was one, denying them sleep until they learned a specific spell was another. their parents’ promises and expressions of love were also empty and meaningless, held above their head like a reward, taken away like a punishment. 

         and then there’s the fact that, specifically, their mother, saw them as nothing more than a useful object. io’s magic got the family status and wealth, and she became greedy for it. when iovita wasn’t compliant or was unable to do magic they were useless in her eyes. eventually, io began to resent the idea of being useful more and more, especially when others later on found io’s magic the most interesting part of them.

         a big portion of those trust issues is them fearing that someone will use them and then when iovita catches on or becomes less useful, that person will either hurt them or leave them at a drop of a hat. they desperately want to be seen as a person rather than someone who serves a single purpose. 

          but at the same time they still fear being useless, too, swinging between the two depending on circumstance. it’s why they’ll hide their struggles, their injuries, because they think that makes them deadweight. 

          an iovita who does slowly realize they can trust someone is an iovita who shows more of their true colors: dependable, dramatic, playful, doting, and loyal. it just takes a long time to get there. nearly as long as it takes for them to get use to extended amounts of touching (something that tends to make them uncomfortable and flighty in early stages… certain circumstances not included).