#netteliax

[dionaeia]

who? @netteliax where? the pyramid when? a couple of weeks after the end notes: i know its late but I am very smol and just started a job so love me pls

Dionaeia really doesn’t want to do this. In fact, she had spent the months after Midsommar’s doing everything possible to forget what had happened to avoid this specific conversation. And yet, here she is, knocking idly at the door of the infirmary now that she knows only Nettelia is inside, about to tell her just how epic her fuck up had been and how she had hidden it. Proportionally, she knows the second part is what makes it worse, to have kept secret that she had slept with Prometheus’ torturer in Midsommar’s had been deliberate in a way that her actions under the unknown magic could not have been. She expects anger at the very least, but it would be a miracle if that is all of it. Seeing the betrayal in her sister’s eyes is what she fears the most, but the war is over and with it her self-destructive spiral that did not care about how keeping the secret for longer would make Nettelia’s reaction worse. 

Dying at Octavian’s hands made her realize that it was not what she wanted. Getting a second chance to avoid that fate had kicked her ass into gear. 

Not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. But well, she had never been known as the most insightful of her siblings, always a little slow on the uptake when it came to her own emotions and self-awareness. 

As Nettelia’s voice calls her to come in, Dionaea takes a breath and readies herself to face the consequences of her stupidity. She would rather not, but she has been running for far too long and she is tired of it. 

“Do you have time for a chat?” 

[octavianrising]

where?: the pyramid

██

“Even now, I struggle to make heads or tails of what happened. It was like a haze had been cast over my mind and yet...” Yet Octavian hadn’t felt so free in he doesn’t even know how long. As has become typical, he’s of two minds about the events of the Asphodel’s spell, but with his siblings’ return he at least has someone to speak to about it all. Well, besides the “voice of his sister” that continues to encourage him in his mind while he looks upon her. “I suppose, when it comes down to it, there’s really nothing to reconcile. What’s done is done. The events of the past, or the present–whatever you want to call it–don’t effect the work that we’re doing. However that must’ve seemed, your return is favorable for me dear sister. I can’t wait to rebuild my empire together.”

@netteliax​

[drowandruil]

who? @netteliax​

where? behind grazie a brunch

“If you are looking for the entrance, it’s on the next street over,” Andruil says politely to the woman approaching her on the alleyway. There is something intensely powerful about the way she holds herself, back upright as she approaches the drow. The woman is a predator stalking closer, and Andruil cannot help but be interested. There is something familiar about the magic they exude, something that almost reminds her of Clara but not quite, so whatever species this woman is, Andruil is sure her power is likely behind her comprehension. She is far too old to intimidate easily, however, so all she does is close the magazine she had been reading on her break and offer the other her full attention. “If you are looking to fight me, please don’t, I might own Grazie a Brunch but like hell can I pay for whatever damages a fight would make.”

[archeolcgist]

who? @netteliax

where? pyramid of cestius, outside Nettelia’s chamber thingie

notes: bonding timeeeeeee girls night innnn

“I know you are not a hugger, but I also know you are a black-soup-eater so I made you some,” Evy says sheepishly, raising a big pot filled to the near brim with the food. She had remembered it was one of Nettelia’s comfort foods, and has spent the past few days trying to find the perfect combination that tasted just like it had back in Eden. Altogether, Andreas had eaten way too many servings of black soup and had asked her to find another test subject, and she had been considering bothering Dionaeia or Octavian if she hadn’t gotten the next batch to match the taste. Now, all she can do is hope Nettelia still liked the flavor. “I also have a bag full of wine and possible relaxation-adjacent activities so we can hang out while it’s your turn to keep guard.”

[healerswanford]

Watching the Necronomicon's creator at work is rather fascinating. Initially, the thought of working under Nettelia's command had triggered her every survival instinct, the suspicions and wariness gathering on her gut as she was left in command of the woman that had slaughtered hundreds to create the troubles they were now facing. Time training under her, however, had dulled the wariness to a manageable level, a tentative trust budding as she watched a master healer at craft. She supposes many would be surprised at how someone which such a dark history was able to nudge life back into the dying, but not Isabella. Healing had been her profession from the moment she could cast magic, and she had learned early that healers were the best killers.

You need to know how to unmake a man if you want to put him together, after all.

It is not something she will say out loud, but as her gaze falls back on the Archdruid, Isabella knows that the admiration she feels goes beyond professional. To jump into the Abyss and manage to claw her way out of it is admirable, and it is not something she knows she would be able to do. Not alone.

"I saw your next patient and I thought you could use a hand or two," she offers quietly as she approaches the soldier, ready to offer her aid.

@senatusstarters location: Medical Tent notes: her long ass hair is tied back I swear the gif is just aesthetic

"On the count of three," the patient nodded as Nettelia braced his body and prepared to force the joint back into place. "one-" with a single, strong pull she rolled and slid it back into its socket before she cradled and braced the appendage. "Take him to Gabriel, he can finish." Nettelia needed to conserve her magic, the chaos of mana that swam within her was beyond anything she'd held before. The countryside was a wasteland, the trees were dead, the earth about the city, and every plant Nettelia had past up until the camp. She needed, it, she would need it, should the worst occur. For what she could do, the archdruid was down to brute force and standard medical practices, something she'd been brushing up on.

"Did you need something?" Nettelia asked as a groaning soldier was filed in, the top half of her body was divided from the bottom. Symbiotic rot had entrenched itself into her gut, the archdruid would need to move quickly. "I'm a little bit preoccupied, so unless you plan on helping-" she glanced towards the door of the tent, "I assume you know the way." A hollow cry fell from the woman's lips, the soldier began to move, thrash, and resist.

[prosperox]

closed starter for @netteliax location: anywhere but the pyramid rly note: women have never done anything wrong

It really had felt like quite some time since he had seen Nettelia. Fifteen years to be exact. Prospero had not wanted to be inhabited by a god, but he guessed he was one of the unlucky ones. Then again, he was sure some of those demigods wouldn't have looked at it the same way he did. There was always someone willing to give up everything they held dear for some semblance of power. Even if it was some vengeful god that craved that same power and gave nothing in return. The tiefling had never been good at holding his tongue when it came to that sort of thing, but he also hadn't been of his right mind for a long time now. Dark magic was always flowing through his veins and he used it more often than he should have. Playing with fire only ended up being useful if he was a pyromaniac. And he was certainly not that. Well, yet at least. All he needed was some time for someone to piss him off and he would see what his temperament looked like then.

Regardless, he was glad to see the Archdruid in one piece. Before Prometheus, he had befriended Nettelia. He wasn't sure how he came to end up more gaining more of a friendship with the avariel, but he didn't really question it. Prospero would still have her back and be there for her regardless. There was a buzzing in his head that he chose to ignore for the time being because it was something he heard all the time. His mind playing tricks on him again. "The necronomicon has not been kind to you, my friend."

[alvcro]

closed starter for @netteliax location: training grounds AGAIN note: *dad pose*

Alvaro didn't much care about morality, good and evil. He'd seen both sides of it and both sides were of interest to him. However, he had seen what the necronomicon had done to Nettelia and he didn't want it to happen to Efigenia, too. There were only a few people he could confide in about this without the witch catching him sniffing around about it. Of course, the main person would be the actual creator of the necronomicon in said Nettelia. He wouldn't blame her for the path his current witch had taken. It would never really be her fault, but she had created the book. Alvaro was no moral compass or anything, yet he felt like this wasn't what he wanted for Efi. She had been through too much and he could only hope that she would stick with those that had her best interests. People like the Narcissus coven. Kaan was determined to look out for the coven and why would he not trust the necromancer? Well, probably because he was indeed a necromancer, but he had moved on from that to a degree now. Nevertheless, Alvaro was not about to spread Efigenia's business about so he would have to be discreet about his asking. Upon seeing Nettelia, he made sure to play several different ways this conversation could go in his head so he was prepared. He was sure it would go none of those ways, but he had a few pre-recorded responses in his head. "Nettelia. Can we talk?" That felt so odd to phrase it like that.

[lulucretias]

closed starter for @netteliax location: the pyramid note: mommy?

Death should have come to her. It would have been what she expected after everything that had happened. After all that had occurred and all that could have been, Lucretia didn't know where to go. She didn't know who to turn to. Every bridge felt like it had been burned and now she had made a choice that she wasn't even sure she should have made. It had felt right at the time though. It had felt right in the grand scheme of things. The druid had been alive for fifteen years and she had been alone for all of them because of the choice she had made before. Because of the choice the Asphodel had made. All of it had been one big mistake and maybe she should've taken it back as soon as it had begun. However, anger had driven her more than anything else.

Those fifteen years alone had given her nothing but time to think of everything that could have gone worse than it had. The gods had left her alone, but she had wished they had taken the hurt away from her. Even with the time reverting, she was still left with an emptiness that felt like it was so deep within herself that she couldn't fill it with anything anyone could give her. That didn't mean she couldn't try though. There had been a voice in the back of her head when she had decided to turn her back on the Asphodel. That one little voice had made that decision for her.

No, Lucretia. You are so much more than what he made you.

And she would be. She had to be. Octavian had made her into someone that hated the world and let anger rule her every choice. It had been like that for thousands of years. Lucretia hadn't needed to know what hell looked like because she had made a hell for her life all on her own. It was those words from Nettelia on that day in Knossos that had sat with her and guided her though. Ever since the Archdruid had said those words, they had played over and over again in her head. It wouldn't go away and she wouldn't pretend that they had no effect on her. She couldn't anymore. And she couldn't let Octavian rule her life anymore. She was better than that. Perhaps it was too late for her to fix anything, but it wasn't too late for her to not be so angry anymore. That first part was for everyone else, but the latter? Well, that was just for her.

That was why she had ended up at the Pyramid. That was why she had called for Nettelia and stood there half a woman and even less of a druid than she ever felt before. Before her aunt could even say anything to her, she spoke. "I made my mistakes. I'm dealing with the consequences of trying to fix those mistakes. I won't tell you that you were right because you know that you were, but I'm sorry I treated you like shit when you just tried to help me. I..." She paused and cleared her throat. "Nobody will feel bad for me. Nobody should. But my soul is weeping and I don't know how to fix it and I need you to help me fix it. I need to fix it."

[epimethcus]

closed starter for @netteliax location: pyramid note: this thing SUCKS

In theory, maybe Epimetheus should have gotten Enzo's number before he bothered to get a cellular device. His intention hadn't really been to call anybody though. He'd just really wanted to watch all of those animal compilation videos, but he'd wanted to watch them with Enzo. And now he didn't even know how to contact the lycan. Usually they just ran into each other somewhere and then they'd hang out for a long time and kiss and stuff and it was always super fun. Anyway, he had to find out a way to actually get Enzo's number now. Hence why he was scrolling through the World Wide Web on this cellular device to try and find the lycan's number within it. He typed 'Lorenzo Valentin', but everything else but a number showed up. "Dang it." He scrolled further and still nothing. He was a second away from throwing the phone when he felt a presence behind him. Turning his head, he gripped the cellular device in his hand as he spoke. "Oh, hey. Hi. Hello. Do you know how to find numbers?"

[epimethcus]

Epimetheus really thought he'd looked so cool just now stalking off with his bird in his hands. Instead, he was just there walking on air without realizing it. Well, that was even cooler than his dramatic exit he'd just attempted. But Nettelia was just cool in general so that wasn't really surprising to him. Anyway, he really wanted to leave right now. Not even just the pyramid, but just this room. The last thing he wanted was to be around his brother right now. Maybe he'd forgive Prometheus later, maybe he wouldn't. Anger was still rolling off of him though. "Sorry, I forgot you just hold blades up to my neck for fun, Prometheus. How could I forget?" It was sarcasm. Epi was not this kind of person though so, once he'd gotten that last statement out, he just stopped. If Nettelia wanted him here, he would stay. Maybe he'd tell her later why he wanted to leave so badly later. "I'll come see you when I want to see you, brother. But I am mad at you right now and I will be for a while." Epimetheus kind of just stood there floating for a second and then looked at Nettelia. "Can I just go help my bird now please?" Then he looked down at Mila. "I'm sorry, bestie." The hedgehog just nodded her head and gave him what he was sure was a smile.

Nettelia was there all of a sudden, and then he was in the air. They kept saying he tried to kill the bird. And maybe subconsciously he had, but they didn't understand that the avariel had nothing against the creatures, nothing at all. Logically, in his mind, he didn't have a single issue. He'd once stroked their feathers and watched them cross the sky with a smile on his face. But the avariel's body? The muscle memory, the fear, the lack of thinking came regardless of whether or not he wanted it there. "I didn't want-" he tried to argue. But he cut himself off. Prometheus hadn't explained to anyone why he winced every time he heard the flutter of wings or how he froze every time something took flight near him. He hadn't explained that to a single soul, not even Epimetheus. Though he was sure his brother would have noticed in the way he avoided any of the birds that he brought out, but only his twin would have realized the pattern.

'... and the people you love will actually want to stay around you.' That one, that was a harsh one. And Prometheus was no stranger to his brother's occasional harsh words, even sometimes directed to him. But it came like a slap he hadn't expected. Still, if anyone had patience for Epimetheus it was his twin. The fear that the bird had taken out of Prometheus had briefly stifled every bit of that patience. "I've never in my life tried to kill you, Epimetheus," he said, eyes briefly shut as he took a breath. "And I didn't want to-..." Prometheus tried to look down at the bird in his brother's arms. And for a second he could. For a second just until he recognized the beady black eyes, the shining beak, the claws. Then he quickly looked away from it, his face already paling again. His hands, that had been barely trembling by then, now shook enough to make him hold his wrist to try to hide it. "I'm sorry about the bird." He wanted to walk away, even disappear in a gust of wind, but his legs felt numb and frozen.

[erenxdemir]

@netteliax Location: wherever the besties wanna hang

The embrace was long, but only because Eren had felt the pain of permanently losing Nettelia once, and going through it again? Even the lion had his limits, and this war had tested every one of them. They pulled apart briefly, his hands on Nettelia's face for a moment before he finally dropped them. She'd done everything she'd could for him – his memories had already returned, but now he'd forever hold on to what had happened up until his death. Every moment, every heartache. Even the deja-vu of falling, of a daughter, of too much to understand – it remained in his head, compartmentalized away so he wouldn't have to think of anything to do with August and what had been broken.

Sometimes he'd think about that ancient city, Assyria at its height. Sand would swirl around them, the brilliant gold of the empire that hung from his neck, and there would always be Nettelia. "I didn't think I'd be in this position again. Not after everything. Didn't think I'd want it." Did he? Perhaps, but there was something about him knowing that he had a part to play, another destiny until his spirit was finally gone. Where would they go? What would they do? Answers he wished Nettelia would have for him once more. "It was strange. I felt like I was someone else. Living a fucking destiny over and over again. Only to end up here. With you. And I wouldn't trade it. So you can't go anywhere without me. Remember that. You wanna go on vacation? Pack for two."

[dionaeia]

who? @netteliax​

where? somewhere in tanzania

notes: time to come in from the cold dionaeia

Cackles echo on her ears as Dionaeia focuses on the sensation of incredibly soft fur under her fingertips, the hyena resting against her side the only sensation cutting through the buzzing of sensory overload at her new environments. Over a hundred years spent on solitude aside from her captors had not done her any favors, and the few instances of civilization she had found on her desperate escape had been too much to confront on the first few weeks of freedom. Now, a few weeks later, things had become more palatable, but she wasn’t inclined to try her luck with humanity once more. She is a stranger outside her time, a vagabond with nothing to her, not even this life’s name, and she isn’t willing to face the suspicious eyes of the species that had forsaken her any time soon. At least not without proper motivation, and as much as she wanted to get absolutely fucked, alcohol didn’t prove the necessary motivation. Or at least not yet.

Dionaeia is running her hand over the hyena’s long tuft of hair, when a presence she is intimately familiar with enters her field of awareness and a long drawn out sigh escapes her. It seems responsibility has come calling, even though she had kicked that particular bitch to the curve already. Di doesn’t bother too look up until her sister — hers, killed by her hand, blood dripping from her fingers — is close, but once her presence is close enough that they can talk, she tilts her head to the side to eye the formerly-fallen Archdruid.

“If you are here to enact your revenge, go ahead, I will be nice and not even fight back Nett,” Di tells her with a sardonic grin as she nudges the hyena away to give her sister more surface area to aim at, opening her arms as an invitation for a possible attack. “It won’t work for long, though, the reincarnation cycle is still fucking working and all.”

[marcellabelanades]

Person: @netteliax​ Location: Alexa Play Cemetery Drive by American Rock Band My Chemical Romance She doesn’t mean to keep going back. August had been right to disrespect Brielle, the moment that masquerade was over her aunt had hidden away with her coven. A coven that no longer stood, that just had Hazal and Ciro to its name now. Marcella should feel sad but as she walks away from her aunt’s grave and through the winding cemetery, she doesn’t feel much of anything except worry for the two left. Hazal was a local staple, she’d been someone she saw at least once a week for nearly two years now, she’d been kind. And Ciro was….Ciro didn’t deserve to lose his mother’s coven. Even if she’d put pressure on him, even if it seemed apparent their relationship was strained, he didn’t deserve that. Now he was back and it was because she’d called him back home and if anything happened to him here, she was directly responsible. It’s something she thinks about a lot now as she walks, that people close to her had already paid a price for her to be with the Asphodel and on one hand she loved the power, she loved feeling practically invincible after going years being helpless back home. On the other, she’s terrified by the whole thing, feels this sort of bone deep emptiness that she thought she’d rid herself of long ago. She’s not alone at the Amaranthus plot which wouldn’t be strange except it’s quite late for most other visitors. Mourning doesn’t really have any sort of timeframe though and so she doesn’t acknowledge the dark haired woman seemingly observing the graves maybe two feet away. Nothing about it is strange, not the feeling of magic in the air between them, the silent understanding of two people at a gravesite. And yet there’s something else. “I’m sorry to bother you, but that perfume you’re wearing is something I haven’t smelled in ages.” Earthy, some kind of sandalwood, bergamot, amber maybe. It’d been something the witches on the bayou wore and it’s almost comforting.

[divinitydiana]

Time: Evening Location: Outside The Pyramid Characters: @netteliax​ & @divinitydiana​​

“Well-behaved women seldom make history,” she mused, sidling up to the Archdruid as she approached The Pyramid. “I really like that saying. Still, a bit much to make the Necronomicon and then get killed by your own siblings for it. Then spontaneous resurrection?” Diana blew air from her nose and raised her brows. “Though I suppose that’s not fair to you, is it?” She sighed. “You’d know me to well - I might’ve applauded you for such an impressive feat, Nettelia... had it not cost Oztalun his life.” Disappointed was perhaps the right word to describe the way that Diana felt about Nettelia. She loved the Archdruid, and she cared for her greatly, but so much had happened since the joys of Eden. The goddess used to think love rather useless and something that got in the way of affairs either painfully or very inconveniently. Eventually, she found she respected it but even now she didn’t see it as more important than family or responsibility.

[xliilith]

where. by the lil booths who. @netteliax​

“Ah, so the rumors are true,” words spoken even before Lilith had turned her gaze onto the archdruid, the familiar sense of presence having alerted her far prior to the other woman having joined her. There was an uncertainty of how long it had truly been since the pair had seen each other, lifetimes lost to the unknown after Lilith had suffered her consequences. But it would not matter, not when she could still recall the bond that they had formed, all those years ago.

[yurcna]

The fever had finally broken, allowing for a quick trip to New Dis before she returned to her apartment to finish recuperating. Most of the symptoms had passed, leaving behind a mild cough and a stuffy nose. Altogether, not terrible, but annoying enough that she had stopped by a tea shop that stayed open late and gotten herself something for herself to keep her warm from the walk from the door to the Otherworld to her bookstore. She does not expect to meet an Aspect on her way back, neither does she expect to meet the one woman that had laid the foundations for everything August was attempting to build.

"Yet I am, all thanks to your work. My thanks, Archdruid none of us would be here without you or your sacrifices," Yurena says mildly, voice hoarse as she raises her tea to take a sip. Brow arched, she glances at the hobby shop she had been watching. For the most part, she had not meant to find the creator of the Necronomicron, but now that she has. Well, they had all heard of Marcella's escape, and perhaps. Perhaps the same can be done for another. "Could I be indulged in my curiosity before any unpleasantness?"

@yurcna location: the STREETS, sometime after dark notes: as requested <3

While they left much to be desired, her healers would be ready when the time came. Not just the druids, but the forces of the senate’s army that Nettelia had brought under her wing and instruction. Primal rules of any healer was that they should not enter the fray, should the medic fall then there would be no one left to patch up the others. In nearly all cases, the healer should be the last to die, their hands bloody and the resolve steeled. There was one exception to these rules: Nettelia.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Came the dark warning as she looked from the window of the hobby shop to the woman who approached. The street was quiet, and it was late in the evening. One might assume that the necromancer sought an easy target; she’d be mistaken. Nettelia held onto one, singular hope, however. That word of Marcella’s escape was spreading among the Asphodel. That for those willing to pay the price, they were not yet truly lost. “Tis a dangerous time to be a necromancer in Rome.”