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acircusfullofdemons · 7 days ago

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DAYDREAMTOBER 2024 [30 / HAUNTED]

╭──→ 💭 ── DAYDREAMTOBER 2024

│ 🌫️ PROMPT ❞ 30 / haunted

│ 🌫️ PARAS ❞ emory warwick, myriam travers, delilah warwick

│ 🌫️ PARACOSM ❞ eternal labyrinth [phantasmagoria — the arcane files]

│ 🌫️ WORD COUNT ❞ 778

╰──────────── 🤍

Short little thing about Emory and how RoseWood haunts him as much as he haunts it. Not proof read or edited </3

RoseWood Manor is haunted. Anyone who spent more than five minutes in the place could figure that out. Those who stayed longer, the more permanent residents — one would be correct in assuming that they were the reason for most of the manor’s haunts.

Majority were only Ghosts. Poor Souls who somehow died in the manor, forever wandering its halls in search of an exit.

Others were stronger: Poltergeists. None knew more fame than Myriam — Mary, as the public now knew her. Haunting mirrors instead of the halls, she quickly earned a reputation for being violent, with those that summoned her ending up with gruesome deaths.

Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Emory couldn’t help but chant her name every time he walked past a mirror. Not that he would ever say it out loud, of course. Talking to Myriam did nothing but upset him. And even if he did wish to speak with her, finding a mirror his height was exceedingly difficult. He often had to jump onto the bathroom counter or find someone’s vanity to check his fur. Neither of which he did often. Not anymore.

When he first got turned into a cat, all those centuries ago, Emory was near obsessed with gazing at his reflection. Hours were spent just looking at himself, dissecting his appearance detail by detail. His whole body soft and squishy. Far more flexible — that took some time to get used to. As did walking on all fours. Going from a human to cat body was…an adjustment, to say the least. Now, Emory found himself with the opposite problem: if he were to gain a human body now, he’d have a hard time refamiliarizing himself with all the bells and whistles that form would contain.

But his newfound enjoyment of mirrors came to a close end. Like all things, it was Myriam’s fault. One too many times has she caught Emory off guard whilst he was trying to groom himself…Such things were better left to someone more qualified.

Unfortunately such a person was hard to find due to RoseWood’s ever-revolving residents. Daniel did what he could, as did Richard on the rare occasion he visited.

But there was always Delilah.

His dear little sister also haunted the manor’s grounds. Emory tried to avoid her, though unlike Myriam it was not out of hatred: it was out of guilt. He couldn’t protect her. He was too reckless, and thanks to his actions, his sister was killed.

Emory could never decide if her memory issues were a blessing or curse.

A blessing, for she didn’t have to remember the pain of dying. Didn’t have to remember Myriam’s betrayal of them both. Didn’t have to remember how Emory failed her.

A curse, for he couldn’t talk to her. She did not remember who he was, not fully, and couldn’t comprehend what she meant to him. She no longer remembered their parents, what it was like when they died. How Emory tried to care for her afterwards.

There were rare times where Delilah would say something, do something, or even just had this look to her — and for a moment it felt like his sister was with him again.

But then the moment would pass, and it was just another Ghost looking at the strange cat inhabiting RoseWood Manor.

And yet, despite all of this, she still sang while she brushed his fur, just like she did when he let her help him get ready for church.

If someone had told Emory back then that he would be living in a haunted house as a cat, he wouldn’t have believed them. Not that he would be blamed. A haunted house is one thing. Being turned into a cat due to your own arrogance was another. Combining the two seemed impossible. Here he was, however, amongst the poor lost Souls that were now forced to live within the manor’s walls.

Emory supposed that he, too, could be considered a lost Soul, in a way. He was no longer in his original body. The manor was the closest thing to a home he had now. There was no family to mourn him — Delilah hardly remembered and Myriam took great pleasure in boasting about what she had done to him. The only difference between him and the other residents was that he’s a cat, free to leave RoseWood’s grounds in search of something better.

Though Emory knew — as did all the Spirits — that he would wind up back within the manor’s walls sooner or later. He could leave for as long as he’d like, but he’d always haunt RoseWood.

There was nowhere else he could truly go, after all.

#paraportal #writing #daydreamtober #daydreamtober2024 #luka.txt #luka writes something #console: phantasmagoria #loc. rosewood manor #emory warwick #delilah warwick #myriam travers #game: the arcane files

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luverofralts · 4 months ago

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Arkhelios Adventures

"We really need to bring this cottage into the new era. We don't need pictures of war criminals on our walls for 'history's' sake. Respect the past, but focus on the future. Yes. Yes, I like that. When I get a free moment, I'll mention it to the palace art team."

Maura murmured to herself as her eyes took in everything in the cottage that she wanted to change. It was her reign, and the cottage should reflect that. While she did love the historical photos and would probably face an intense battle to move them with her relatives, times had changed. Photos of King Ben, the national hero who had saved the islands from Pleasantview, but had murdered several of his children as well as some of their spouses, the Red Queen, who had no business being on any wall because of her crimes, and Queen Celeste, who tried to overthrow the grim reaper while enslaving her zombified mother, disgraced the warm feeling Maura wanted the Siew family cottage to have. Maybe if she put all their pictures upstairs in what had once been King Ben's office, she could balance honouring the past while still creating a better future.

"I can shove that picture in my attic if you'd like. You're glaring at it like it kicked a puppy."

Maura turned to see her cousin Claudia walking up to her, her usual confident smirk on full display.

"You're welcome to it," Maura offered, smiling despite her frustration. Claudia often had that effect on her. "I'm making a list of photos that may need to be retired."

Claudia scoffed.

"Just imagine living with the portraits of terrible people whose blood runs in my veins every single day. Pleasantview would fall before it gave up worshipping the ghosts of its past."

"Well, I guess you don't have to worry about being lost to history someday," Maura teased. "Give it a century or two and you'll probably be promoted to a demi god."

"I would make an excellent demi god," Claudia agreed. "But you can't be inventorying every picture here. Some of our relatives were good people. Not many, but some. Besides, don't you have a royal archivist? I just email mine and the pictures are rotated within a day. They deal with all the safety procedures needed to store the pictures for the next hundred years and I get something new to look at. I know this cottage is for all Siews, but the monarch of Twikkii Island owns it, so it should fall within your archivist's obligations."

"I'd prefer to deal with them myself. They can store them for me, but I'll be making the choices of which picture to display. It's probably the thing I like most about this job. If my mother had lived, I'd imagine that I might have been a royal curator for her. There'd be more pictures of Trent and Callista than I'd like, but no job is perfect."

"Very noble of you," Claudia remarked dryly. "They are your half-siblings, I'd imagine your mother would want pictures of them around. Honestly, with your complexion, jealousy's not flattering. You're the queen, and Trent is an orphan. Have some compassion for your little brother or are you getting rid of those pictures because the people in them are starting to look just like you?"

"Not all of us come from the two happiest dead people in existence. I'm an orphan too. My father was murdered by my grandmother. Mom shouldn't have remarried. She just forgot about him, like he didn't even exist."

Claudia raised a skeptical eyebrow, baffled at her cousin's behavior.

"Are you okay? Usually your daddy issues aren't this obvious. Added to a pregnancy that is obviously not your wife's, you're starting to look a little unhinged. Is something happening? I can help, unless you've got some insane grudge against me too."

"It's nothing," Maura snapped, turning away from her cousin. "It's just pregnancy hormones. Everything is great. I love my life. Everyone is jealous of my good fortune, so I should love my life. And I do."

"You could always step down if you hate your life," Claudia teased. "I'd be happy to claim my inheritance from my mother and add Twikkii Island to my realm."

Maura shot Claudia a nasty look, but after a moment to think, the nastiness faded into a weak smile.

"Do you have days like this? Days when you just want to fake your death and flee somewhere you've never been? That makes me a bad person, right? I feel like a bad person."

Claudia wrapped her cousin in bone crushing hug.

"All the time. I think about what my life would have been if Dad had never found out his true parentage. Would I be happier? What job would I have? It's only natural when you're in a position like ours. It doesn't make you a bad person to have doubts about your life. It makes you human. Look, why don't you come visit me more? Or I can stop by your place and we can go to that wonderful spa we went to before your wedding. You need someone to talk to, and I'm probably the only one who understands what you're feeling. Unless you want to ask the old, boring kings of Strangetown or Crystal Cove."

Maura laughed, despite her mood. Claudia always had been good at getting under her skin.

"Okay. I promise to spend more time with you to stop from being a complete bitch all the time. Ulyssa would probably love to have me out of the palace for an afternoon anyway. For now, help me log which paintings I should store. You know our history probably better than even I do."

Claudia craned her neck, looking for a certain portrait that had always creeped her out.

"I'd vote for that one," she said, pointing across the room. "Every time I'm here, one of the dogs is always barking at it. It has to be cursed or something. Something is off about it."

"Ah. You have a good eye. It creeps me out too. It's King Ben, after all. The man was a monster. No wonder the dogs can sense his evil."

"Oh, there's a million pictures of him all around this place," Claudia scoffed. "He was a fine king. He saved your country from becoming a part of mine under my psychotic grandfather. The heroism and the murders kinda cancel each other out, I think. No, he's not the problem. She is."

"Who? Is that his cousin or something? The names aren't engraved on the frame."

"His sister, Winter," Claudia replied. "She was a hell of a witch. I have some of her books in my library. Talented, but like you, a little unhinged."

"Ha, ha. I'll add it to the list."

"Are we supposed to be doing something? I feel like we should be doing something."

Adam looked nervously around the cottage, looking for guidance. It wasn't often that they were invited to the Siew cottage and just standing in it made Adam paranoid that he might accidentally break something expensive. He'd been there before, of course, but he never truly felt welcome.

The Siew family was gathered for a family barbecue, and even those at the far ends of the family tree were invited to celebrate. Adam and Remy got their invitation because their half-siblings were Siews. Elowen and Bronwen weren't just going to leave Adam and Remy out of a royal feast just because only their mother had married into the Siew family.

"Don't start cleaning something just because we don't have titles," Remy groaned. "We're invited guests, not the help. We're not doing anything to set up. Period. Our earned coven titles are more than good enough."

"Apprentice is a better title than princess or Duke?"

Remy punched her twin on the arm.

"Yes. Yes, it is. Now let's go find our sisters. They probably know where the booze is."

"Dad! You made it! I thought you, Dad, and Vrai were going away this weekend."

Ewan Traver embraced his father, Travis Traver, surprised at his presence. Ewan had inherited the title Travis had never wanted, and took care of the Goldman estate and all the responsibilities that went with it. His father, despite being born in Twikkii Island to two of its citizens, disliked spending any time on the island. He had been raised in Pleasantview and Crystal Cove. However tropical the island was, it held no allure for Travis, so his presence there was somewhat surprising.

"Your father and Vrai went ahead. I might join them later, but I wanted to be here. The anniversary is coming up and it's good to be with family. This was where she grew up. I wanted to see it the way she once did."

Ewan paused, unsure of what to say. His Aunt Celeste, better known as Queen Celeste of Crystal Cove, had practically raised his father after their father died giving birth to their half-brother, Ewan, and their mothers were murdered. The two siblings had been unsettlingly close until Celeste's death, due to the stranglehold she had on Travis' life. She blocked his mother's family from contacting him and insisted that he name his oldest son after their father. Aside from eloping with Ewan's father, Leonid, Travis' entire life had been carefully planned by his controlling sister. But Celeste had been gone for over a decade now and Travis was free to chart his own path forward. He hadn't recognized Celeste in the year or so proceeding her death, and he couldn't forgive her for telling his biological family that he didn't want anything to do with them. Or co-running a cult obsessed with killing the Grim Reaper. Or naming the child she created to sacrifice after him. Or murdering their half-brother, Ewan, as a child.

There were many things Travis hated about his sister, but every year near the anniversary of her death, he spent time in Twikkii Island, trying to understand the little girl who had been born there and where she had gone so wrong. He hadn't had any insight on how to forgive her yet, but every year, he was hopeful.

"So, are you going to help plan the memorial ball this year? Edana has been pretty busy and I've got some of the vendors lined up, but I could use some help."

Travis smiled tightly. The queen had provided a grant to the Goldman estate to celebrate Travis' parents after it had been revealed that their deaths were caused both directly and indirectly by the crown. Unhappily, the deaths of his parents and the death of his sister fell within the same month, so every time he left to grieve for his sister, he was expected to also celebrate the lives of the parents he'd never known. The anniversary of the day that his daughter, Tristianne, had been taken from him was only a few months later. It seemed fitting that he was in a polycule with the Grim Reaper; death seemed to follow him wherever he went.

"We'll see," he said at last. "The hospital still might call me in for a few consults. A retired doctor still has his obligations to old colleagues."

Ewan mirrored his father's tight smile. That was a no. It would hurt less if his father would just tell him upfront that he wanted nothing to do with whatever Ewan or the queen planned. It would be far more honest.

"Sure, just let me know your schedule when you can. No worries if you're busy."

"Isn't there supposed to be food at a barbecue? I'm starving."

Elowen set up the pool table while Victoriana waited.

"The food won't be ready for another hour at least. Mom said we have to wait for Grandma and Grandpa to come and they're at work. Grandpa refuses to let someone else touch the barbecue when it's his 'passion'. They'll be here soon enough though."

"Very soon," Adrienne agreed. She was too young to play pool, but she enjoyed watching the game. It was the closest she got to socializing with her extended family.

"Fine, I guess I can wait. There were chips in the kitchen though, right? We could steal some of those."

"Do you like my dress? I got it last weekend in the Pleasantview mall. It was on sale and I couldn't possibly say no to it."

Bronwen spun around dramatically to show off her dress to Fiolett. The younger girl clapped enthusiastically, wishing that she had a dress that pretty. She had a lot of dresses, sure, but they were all picked out by her dads. Fiolett couldn't wait until she was a teen and could pick out dresses for herself. That was a long way off though, so she admired other people's dresses for now.

"Be sure to congratulate Roman and Abe for me. That's wonderful that they renewed their vows. If I could find it in myself to forgive Trent if he cheated on me, I'd want to renew our vows too. It's a fresh start. Good for them."

"It's not entirely like that, it's...." Adrian trailed off, trying to find the words to explain a demon wedding. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure himself what Abe and Roman had volunteered for, but he didn't want Cindra to know that. "Well, maybe it is a bit of a vow renewal. Theo officiated it, so I guess it's like a magical, demonic vow renewal. You couldn't talk me into one."

"That would mean walking down the aisle again," Cindra teased. "We all know you're terrified of weddings. Otherwise, Evren would have a ring on his finger by now. Are you ever going to make an honest man out of him?"

Adrian frowned, not liking the direction their conversation had turned.

"Maybe. Not that it's any of your or Trent's business. It would make the legal process of passing my title to my legitimate daughter from another marriage harder. It's just easier this way."

"It does not," Cindra laughed. "Everyone knows that Luciana is going to become a duchess one day, the queen more than anyone. She'd have the legalities all sorted out in an afternoon. You're just chicken."

"I am not! Evren doesn't want to get married either."

"That's not what Trent said after he went bowling with Evren last week. Evren told him that he's just waiting for you to make a move. You'd say no if he proposed, so he's waiting for you to do it."

"He would never say something like that to my cousin," Adrian insisted. "You're just hoping to plan another wedding, no matter who it's for."

"Who can blame me for wanting to celebrate love? Planning my own wedding went amazingly and I want to plan another one!"

"Wasn't your little sister, Lauren, around here somewhere? Plan her wedding!"

Travis Maricourt was as far as he could get from the noisy group of people as he could be. His parents weren't coming until later, so most of the afternoon was his to sneak off and enjoy. Claudia wouldn't force him to socialize and Oliver hadn't bothered to leave college for a family event since their mother's birthday. Their father's birthday was coming up, and that was probably the last Travis would see of Oliver until the next family birthday. Travis couldn't wait to start college and finally get some time to himself without his parents "encouraging" him to talk to people he had no interest in talking to.

He didn't trust his annoying relatives not to read his journal if he brought it with him, so instead, Travis brought his magical theory workbook. Theory didn't feel like homework to him, like it did to his classmates. It was fascinating to map out the bones that held up the living world, to see how the pieces of an existential puzzle clicked together. His parents talked a lot about how the worlds of life and death overlapped, and Travis simply had to know how it all worked. Not that he would change existence or anything if he learned how. He just had so many questions.

"You were right."

"I usually am. Today, I wish I wasn't, though. I don't know what this means. There's definitely a current running through here, but why?"

Izanami bowed his head, contemplating the situation.

"I don't like this," he finally decided. "This feeling...it feels old. Demonic, probably."

"It feels like it did over a decade ago," Lukas insisted. "Like when Leo was attacked...but also different. There's this sense of...nothingness. Can you feel it too?"

Izanami nodded his agreement.

"I'll contact Gee and let him know how he should do my job. You can't intervene here."

"I know that. I'll go to the school and make sure that the children are safe. I'm not taking any chances with their safety. But this will probably blow over and be fine, right? Oh! Arterius! Call him and tell him to meet me at the school. Just because he's an adult doesn't mean he's exempt from family meetings."

"Of course, dearest. I'll join you in a moment."

Lukas vanished into a shower of sparkling light. As soon as they were out of sight, Izanami closed his eyes and tried to listen to the hum of existence. Screams echoed over loud waves crashing against jagged rocks. A hurricane roared as it churned into existence. A royal ship cracked in two as it sank beneath the wild waves.

Lukas lifelessly lying encased in a glass tomb. A howl of wind that swept away the souls of the dead. The cold truth that sometimes even the dead could die.

It had all happened before, and now it was happening again despite Izanami's best efforts. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt several names engrave themselves on the list in his son's office. The deaths had been finalized. There was no hope of changing them now. It was beginning.

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