#wake up in a new life by the seaside. / verse: traveling.

[darkblessed]

@viilein / cont.

it’s funny, this weakness of his. vampires as typically known burned in the sun, cowered from the radiance of a cleric and shrieked when the light touched their skin. he was what another vampire he knew called a daywalker, an envious term that laid out what he could do: stand beneath the dawn and feel nothing but the warmth on his back.

his weakness was something more mundane, something so simple it was laughable. their trek had taken them eastward, towards a small town complaining of a nauseating stench over the entire town (it was enebish’s insistence, this time, to seek it out. ‘ for my monster hunting notes,’ he said.)

the source had been an enormous plant growing from a mass grave of victims of the zombies that roamed the countryside of darkon. taking it down with victor’s fire had been easy, but not before it had landed three terrible lashes of wide tendrils across enebish’s torso. his armor and shield had brunted the worst of the blows, but the last one had come down on his weapon arm and the poison leaking from the vines burned into his skin like it was actively eating him.

his magic did not come when called, because they had been on their feet for too long to bring the spells to fruition. he’s tired. the poison makes him even more tired. victor talks about the unreliability of the gods and enebish turns his head up to catch the fire in victor’s gaze.

“ my weakness keeps me mortal. i didn’t ask for this immortality, you know. ”

he pulls his arm back to press a hand to where the potion sinks into his skin, watching the flesh try and fail to knit itself back together. he needed a meal and some sleep first.

“ i don’t tend to ask big questions like who the gods are or how dare they act the way they do. i’ll never know -- how they think isn’t how we think. all i know is she spoke to me and asked of me a duty and i’ve carried that duty. ”

he shrugs with one shoulder, the one on the uninjured side, when victor asks what he’s still holding onto.

“ i don’t know. i just am. perhaps i’m just stubborn the same way you are whenever you refuse to let me heal your eye. it’s just a piece of myself that i’ve decided to hang onto. her voice is my voice. ”

he looks to the vial before he sighs.

“ i won’t be opposed to learning to neutralize the poison, considering how much it eats me away, but i’m not giving up my clerical work. ”

[oraculideluna]

Verses - mobile link

Main 

Full information can be found here. Luna is played heavily canon divergent after the events of Altissia.

Afterlife (wip)

During the events in Altissia, being stabbed by Ardyn and using her life force to save Noctis, Luna dies, but she doesn’t pass on to the afterlife. She exists as a spirit of sorts, still sentient, aware. She exists between worlds, though she can manifest visually for a time, she can speak, and (as seen within the game) she can still even use some of her magic. Her continued existence, however, is far more limited than she was when alive, and though she can speak and use magic, when she does so on the physical plane, it drains her abilities greatly, and she is forced back into the space between worlds.

Final Fantasy VII (available on request)

Luna and Ravus are the children of politicians with strong anti-Shin-Ra ideologies. They’ve spent years speaking out against the use of the Lifestream as an energy source and have garnered a rather large following around them. The Fleuret name carries quite some clout.

When Luna is 17, an attack on her parents’ lives leaves both of them dead. The attack is quiet and away from public eyes, and Luna and Ravus highly suspect Shin-Ra are the ones behind it. But there is little proof yet, and before they can start to amass any sort of theory, thinly veiled threats start coming from from President Shinra himself. (More on this later, but the President’s got a pretty heavy hand in keeping these two so quiet.)

Blackmail is so intense, and so dirty, Luna (at least) has almost no choice but to accept the forced position within the Shin-Ra company under the President’s watchful eye. It is made to look as if she is there willingly, much to the dissent and probably suspicion of many of her parents’ supporters. At first, many most likely believe her to be there by force somehow, but years pass and she is still there, and most come to accept that it is probably by choice.

Most of what she does keeps her from the public eye, staying within the company confines and idling through various departments. Throughout the years (between the time of Crisis Core and FFVII), Luna has worked as an assistant of sort for weapons development (as more of a liaison), investigative affairs (as something of a secretary, never quite getting involved with the Turks), and briefly in space exploration, until it is decided that her skills are better used in the politics she grew up in. She is then assigned a PR position in the Urban Development department to promote ideas of Neo-Midgar.

Her role within the company now sees her travelling to various cities under the watch of armed guards to keep her safe while she delivers speeches and performs all the social niceties to try and garner support for the new city. She’s encountered by a lot of hostility along the way, which she certainly understands.

(Plot dependent) After the murder of President Shinra, Luna is approached by Rufus to continue her work with them, or she takes the ensuing chaos within the company to slip away and make her way into disguises to join the fight against Shinra. 

This could be a way into Avalanche and other resistance groups, and opens the way for plotting.

Final Fantasy VIII 

Luna is the Duchess of the Dollet Dukedom. Growing up, she learned the ins and outs of running a town whose primary economy is through tourism, and the downswings that come with major storms, off season, and the inverse effect of economic depression during war on the town. She is a woman of politics and a just leader for the city, and she will often find ways to shoulder more of the burden of the difficult times than to put it on the people of the city.

As a distant descendant of the Centra, Luna will go to the Centra Ruins for charity work. At a point post-game, while Luna is there, another Sorceress dies and it passes to Luna. With her family’s status and money, she is quickly and quietly assigned a Knight and sent to Esthar to have an Odine bangle created for her. This upheaval causes much distress in her life, and she works through the anxiety, nightmares, and fear slowly to learn to accept her role as Sorceress, as well as to slowly broach the subject to the public.

Final Fantasy X 

Luna is the daughter of a high-ranking clergy member in the Bevelle temple, and is in line to one day become High Priestess to Yevon. Initially slated to be a summoner upon Sin’s return after the Calm (during the events of X), many of those who knew what the pilgrimage ends in discouraged her from making the journey. Though the decision was difficult, and she felt it her duty to try and fight Sin, she listened to them in the end, and has continued her studies and training in Bevelle to one day take her place as needed. She serves as a healer to any who need aid, and she can perform ritual sendings.

She can often be found travelling around Spira, not only to perform sendings and to offer her services as healer, but also to intermingle and meet the residents of Spira. She feels it is part of her duty to visit as many cities, towns, and villages as she can, yet also enjoys meeting people in the hopes of making some new friends.

Luna is also an avid fan of Blitzball, and will attend matches as her time permits. She doesn’t know how to play, and feels she wouldn’t be coordinated enough to really get the moves down, but she loves to watch. (She claims the Bevelle Bells to be her favorite team, though they’ve long since retired; after that, she often finds the Kilika Beasts to be entertaining and fierce opponents.)

During the events of X-2, Luna has left Bevelle in the wake of its fall and continues her journey around Spira to perform sendings as needed while trying to find footing in the aftermath of the fall of Yevon.

Final Fantasy XII (available on request)

Luna was the princess of a seaside kingdom bordering the ever-expanding Archadian Empire. Theirs was a peaceful kingdom whose primary focus was the import and export of goods from across the ocean, including from distant parts of Rozarria where travel by sea was nearly as common as travel by air.

Though surrounded by the comforts of royal life, illness swept through the kingdom and killed many within, including her mother. The ports were temporarily shut down and all trade was closed until the plague was gone and the city cleaned. Luna was only about eight when this happened.

When she is older, they are once again attacked, this time by the Archadian Empire. This attack results in the loss of many lives, including Luna’s father. (Age here can be plotted.)

Terms of peace are offered thus: The Empire will cease hostilities so long as the kingdom is incorporated under Empire rule, and Luna would be married to the eldest Solider brother. With no choice but to accept or risk the loss of more of their people, the terms of surrender are accepted, and Luna is wed into the Solidor family.

(Plot dependent) In the wake of her husband’s murder, one of two things can be plotted to happen: Luna remains bound to the Solidor family and stays on as counsel and for political matters regarding her kingdom; or, her marriage into the family is then passed to Vayne in the hopes of one day producing an heir.

From here, Luna finds an escape within the resistance and joins the fight against the Empire.

Final Fantasy XIII (available on request)

Luna was born into a wealthy family whose name carried influence among others in the city of Palumpolum. When necessary, they were often sought after to influence a vote or draw attention to a political matter. At a young age, Luna became interested in learning the politics her parents were so invested in, and began pursuing a career in it while in school. At the age of sixteen, she began working in the offices as an intern until she finished her schooling, whereupon she received a full-time job. She worked hard and developed her own name within Cocoon’s government, following in the path of her parents’ name and the clout it carried.

As she grew into her role, Luna worked closely with Cid Raines and began to see how corrupt the government was under Fal’Cie rule. She joined his Cavalry and worked undercover to try and bring about the downfall of the Fal’Cie. Unbeknownst to her, along the way, Cid became a l’cie and used her in his plans to bring about the fall of Cocoon and the rise of Orphan.

Later, when Cid is turned to crystal and then revived, in the moments of lucidity when he asks Rygdea to kill him, he also asks hm to keep Luna safe and get her away from Barthandelus. After killing Cid, Rygdea keeps his promise and helps Luna get away. Together, they, along with Hope’s father Bartholomew, begin construction on the Academy where one day Hope begins his studies into the Paradoxes.

During the events of XIII-2, Luna can be found at the Academy. Her work primarily consists of public relations and taking care of the business side of things, but she spends what spare time she has researching Paradoxes alongside Hope to help in any way she can.

After the capturing of Hope and the fall of the Academy, Luna travels for a long time, traversing worlds in the hopes she can help figure out how to bring the world back to normal. Her travels result in few answers, but she researches many other phenomena, like the unborn children never growing, and the minds of the children who are stuck in young bodies. Eventually, she finds the Order who intend to use Vanille, and Luna becomes one of her protectors.

Kingdom Hearts

Luna doesn’t remember the destruction of Eos; she only remembers waking up in an unknown place, another world entirely, her family, friends, and even her enemies nowhere to be found. It’s explained to her where she is and what’s been happening, and while she understands what they tell her, she refuses to believe that Eos is destroyed and, quite possibly, everyone she knows gone. Feeling determined, she sets out to find them.

It isn’t learned until later that the Scourge she healed people of on Eos is another form of darkness that carried over with her into these other worlds, and that her heart has been heavily tainted with it. Each time she had healed someone, she was taking in their darkness in exchange for her light. There is still light in her heart, but continued healing could eventually result in a complete loss of it - though she believes that, so long as she believes and has hope, the light will never truly expire. She is warned, though, that if she should be completely overtaken, she could become a powerful puppet to those in control of the darkness.

Due to the amount of darkness residing within her, she can create weak portals between worlds using it with the understanding that she consumes a bit of darkness each time she does, giving it just a little more strength.

Throughout her travels between worlds, she becomes invested in the war between darkness and light, and will offer to heal those in dire need of help, knowing she does so at great personal risk, quite possibly to her very life. She also uses her magic for healing injuries, and fends of Heartless as best as she can with her trident, knowing that, without a keyblade, she is only temporarily driving them back.

Dissidia (During Dissidia NT) (available on request)

After the fall of Insomnia, Luna is weighed down with a heavy heart and a heavier burden: The ring of Lucis. She keeps it safely on her person as she treks to Altissia where she will give the ring to Noctis, allowing none to see it, none to know that it exists outside the ruins of Insomnia. She takes refuge in unassuming locations, and this fateful night finds her in a small inn off the main roads. Sleep is swift, though troubled, and riddled with nightmares.

When she wakes up, the inn is gone and she is in a place she does not recognize. A vast, dry land stretches before her, the earth cracked and littered only with rocks and perhaps the occasional hint of green struggling against the sunlight. Instinct has her searching for any hint as to where she is, though it isn’t until she is approached by someone who explains what’s happening that she starts to get any answers. (I have written that Cecil is the one who finds her, though this can be plotted differently.)

The summoning of her by Cosmos to bring her here begins the process of taking away her memories, yet what remains fades away the closer she gets to Cosmos. Soon, she is left with nothing but an imprint of who she is. Mannerisms, speech patterns, feelings, things ingrained so deeply through her life are all that remain. This causes a growing bitterness in Luna, an anger she keeps hidden away.

Plot dependent: Luna switches to the side of Chaos, most likely temporarily. In the wake of her anger taking her over, she leaves Cosmos’s champions to join Chaos. She cannot reconcile what has been done to her, to everyone who has been brought here, and though she is unwaveringly loyal, she feels as if they are all being exploited against their will, memories of their lives dangled before them as incentive to fight a war they have no personal stake in. Eventually, she will realize both sides have done the same thing, summoned people away from their homes to fight for these warring gods, and will go back to the side of Cosmos.

She can also be talked out of switching, if someone speaks to her and convinces her otherwise.

Mad Max

In a world torn apart by disease, Luna is one of few who is born pure and untouched by the sickness. As a child, she remains immune, never succumbing to the illness, staying as healthy as one can in such a world. The small bit of what has been labeled ‘Paradise’, Luna is sequestered away by The Chancellor, kept out of the eye of the people, the world, and the sun. She is protected and fed promises that her birth is a sign that she is going to help heal the world, that she must be kept safe and hidden away or others hearing of her purity will try to kidnap her. She is only allowed out once every 28 nights, under the light of the full moon, presented to the people as something to be praised.

For years, she believed the lies, clinging desperately to the Chancellor and the safety he promised her. Yet as she got older, the pull of the outside world called to her, and she began trying to escape. Her first several attempts failed, resulting in harsher punishments each time, until she is bound by a leather and chain collar to the wall of her room. The Chancellor promised her that it was for her own good, yet hatred began festering in her heart.

Eventually, with the help of her bodyguard Crowe, who betrays the Chancellor, she escapes. From here, it’s plot dependent.

Down the road, she comes to find out that The Chancellor was intending to sell her temporarily off to the highest bidders for her to bear them healthy children. Until this point, she has no idea of what he has in store for her, since his lies consist almost entirely of telling her that she will simply purify the world.

Kingsman

Off the coast of Wales in the Irish Sea is a small island kingdom known as Tenebrae, where the Fleuret royal family has lived for generations. With flourishing seaports, they are a hub for fishing and seafood exports, and carry with them a strong economic voice in the United Kingdom. In a bid for power, a commercial fishing company has been trying to partner with the Tenebraean royal family in an attempt to raise taxes on use of the ports. The royal family has refused for many years.

Using hired agents, the royal family is attacked with the intent to threaten them into compliance, but the King and Queen end up killed in the attack. Ravus is taken by the hired agents and fed lies about the political happenings within the kingdom. Luna, age twelve, was saved by members of the Kingsmen, who had intel that Tenebrae would be attacked and were undercover as public relations assistants to keep an eye on the family.

Knowing that the attackers may not stop until the entire family is dead and can no longer claim access to the small kingdom, the Kingsmen keep Luna under their care while she finishes school and proceeds on to college. Being exposed to even the surface of who they are, Luna quickly develops an interest and spends her extra time training to hopefully join their ranks one day. She learns combat, expands on what sword fighting she’d learned from the royal swordmaster, takes dance and gymnastics. At eighteen years old, when it comes time to go through their intensive application process, she gets to the final four, but doesn’t make it further.

However, she also took a great interest in their technology, and has been working under Guinevere, an agent who has been in Research and Development for several years. After not making it past the final four candidates, Luna finds a home working behind the scenes, assisting in creating the technology and gadgetry the agents use in the field.

At twenty-two years old, Luna finishes her bachelor’s in Information Technology and a minor in Weapons Engineering, and is also graduated to the role of Guinevere on the retiring of the previous one. While Luna doesn’t head the R&D department, she has come to have a large presence in the creation and testing of new designs of weaponry and information gathering. She can be used as a field agent when necessary, usually for recon missions.

Even now, years after taking on her role within the Kingsmen, Luna doesn’t know where her brother is, and keeps a constant eye on the state of Tenebrae, determined to see it in the hands of someone who will care for it as her family did, and not in the hands of the corporation still vying for political access.

Detroit: Become Human (WIP)

Luna and her brother, Ravus, grew up in London as the heirs to Fleuret Robotics, newly founded by their parents and passed to them in the wake of their parent’s deaths. Working with some of the best that England had to offer, they developed artificial intelligence at a steady pace, improving and pushing the boundaries of what was capable of their technology. They became the first company in England to develop a functioning robot.

However, their science is limited, and they can’t seem to break through the walls surrounding artificial intelligence. At best, they’ve created an ideal model of android for menial tasks, though it lacks the grace that comes with the more intelligent models created in America and Japan. Luna moves from England to Detroit and meets up with Elijah Kamski to try and work out a merger between their two companies. Eventually, CyberLife absorbs Fleuret Robotics, and they become a subsidiary that works mostly in the design and creation of the android models, as well as basic programming. Luna works more on the PR front, and becomes a spokeswoman that heads the more public side of business, attending press conferences and social events to promote CyberLife.

Luna helps design the early AX, PL, and EM models of android. She assists in making sure the upgrades are stable and the bodies will be suited to daily wear and tear without damage to the internal components and infrastructure, but ultimately, she does best when she’s on the publicity front lines. Though cybernetics and artificial intelligence have created a strong impact on society and are becoming more and more of a common occurrence, there is still strong bias against the implementation of androids for common use in the workforce. Luna spearheads many campaigns for awareness and open-mindedness, but has been on the receiving end of violence and death threats. Appearances are not made without a squad of security to protect her, usually one to stay close, and several others to intersperse among a crowd to keep a more distant watch.

At first, Luna strongly disagrees with the militaristic use of androids. To her, it’s a slippery slope of countries creating vast armies that will ultimately leave behind large piles of machines needing to be recycled, resulting in an endless loop of creation and destruction that, worst case, could cause the downfall of even talks of peace between countries. Eventually, she realizes that, so long as they’re regulated, android military units would cut down on the loss of human life in both domestic and international crime. Further on down the road, after the events at Jericho, Luna retires that way of thinking, realizing that sentient AI is as human as humans are.

[oracleofthegods-archive-blog]

Updated FFVII and FFXII verses. As should be noted, Ravus is generally a background character/NPC unless plotted otherwise:

FFVII:

Luna and Ravus are the children of politicians with strong anti-Shin-Ra ideologies. They’ve spent years speaking out against the use of the Lifestream as an energy source and have garnered a rather large following around them. The Fleuret name carries quite some clout.

When Luna is 17, an attack on her parents’ lives leaves both of them dead. The attack is quiet and away from public eyes, and Luna and Ravus highly suspect Shin-Ra are the ones behind it. But there is little proof yet, and before they can start to amass any sort of theory, thinly veiled threats start coming from from President Shinra himself. (More on this later, but the President’s got a pretty heavy hand in keeping these two so quiet.)

Blackmail is so intense, and so dirty, Luna (at least) has almost no choice but to accept the forced position within the Shin-Ra company under the President’s watchful eye. It is made to look as if she is there willingly, much to the dissent and probably suspicion of many of her parents’ supporters. At first, many most likely believe her to be there by force somehow, but years pass and she is still there, and most come to accept that it is probably by choice.

Most of what she does keeps her from the public eye, staying within the company confines and idling through various departments. Throughout the years (between the time of Crisis Core and FFVII), Luna has worked as an assistant of sort for weapons development (as more of a liaison), investigative affairs (as something of a secretary, never quite getting involved with the Turks), and briefly in space exploration, until it is decided that her skills are better used in the politics she grew up in. She is then assigned a PR position in the Urban Development department to promote ideas of Neo-Midgar.

Her role within the company now sees her travelling to various cities under the watch of armed guards to keep her safe while she delivers speeches and performs all the social niceties to try and garner support for the new city. She’s encountered by a lot of hostility along the way, which she certainly understands.

(Plot dependent) After the murder of President Shinra, Luna is approached by Rufus to continue her work with them, or she takes the ensuing chaos within the company to slip away and make her way into disguises to join the fight against Shinra. 

This could be a way into Avalanche and other resistance groups, and opens the way for plotting

FFXII

Luna was the princess of a seaside kingdom bordering the ever-expanding Archadian Empire. Theirs was a peaceful kingdom whose primary focus was the import and export of goods from across the ocean, including from distant parts of Rozarria where travel by sea was nearly as common as travel by air.

Though surrounded by the comforts of royal life, illness swept through the kingdom and killed many within, including her mother. The ports were temporarily shut down and all trade was closed until the plague was gone and the city cleaned. Luna was only about eight when this happened.

When she is older, they are once again attacked, this time by the Archadian Empire. This attack results in the loss of many lives, including Luna’s father. (Age here can be plotted.)

Terms of peace are offered thus: The Empire will cease hostilities  so long as the kingdom is incorporated under Empire rule, and Luna would be married to the eldest Solidor brother. With no choice but to accept or risk the loss of more of their people, the terms of surrender are accepted, and Luna is wed into the Solidor family.

(Plot dependent) In the wake of her husband’s murder, one of two things can be plotted to happen: Luna remains bound to the Solidor family and stays on as counsel and for political matters regarding her kingdom; or, her marriage into the family is then passed to Vayne in the hopes of one day producing an heir.

From here, Luna finds an escape within the resistance and joins the fight against the Empire.

[cathern31u04-blog]

Remove Excuses And Make A Dedication.

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[darkblessed]

enebish watches the flash of something across victor's face, and it causes a pang of familiarity to run through him. it's the throbbing behind the eyes of a voice pushing into your mind without your consent, a memory bobbing to the surface of a dark lake on its own.

he waits for the moment to pass and for victor to say his piece before he nods quietly. what a dreadful place indeed.

he fell into step just beside victor, careful not to bump into him as they went, and sighed once more at the comment about his expression.

rivalis was a difficult topic, a sore that had never healed because there was never any closure. he had left once upon a time and never returned, never wrote, never did anything to let the people there know he lived. (which. . .he didn't, not anymore.)

" it's just a small town. it's a village really. i knew everyone there when i was growing up, and it's just awkward to go back and try to peddle my wares to people who knew me as a toddler. "

he shrugged, readjusting his pack in the process.

" it's a nice place. it's just weird to go back for business. besides, if we're done with villages, then rivalis is the last place we need to go. it's got apple orchards, the richten haus, and that's about it. and a spooky lake. "

doomsday. something clicked in victor's mind and he squinted his eyes shot at the jolt of pain. a flash of something searing through his brain like a white hot blade. YOU ARE A BAD FIRST DRAFT ... there's no time ... they are here –

he breathed deeply, pushing the intrusive thoughts out of his mind. at least one of them sounded like his own voice. he touched the ring of mind shielding again, consciously this time. he could still feel the magic pulsing in it. it's still working ...

“doomsday has already come. and nobody was ready for it – ” he opened his eyes again. light reflecting in the river water like a million loose fish scales. “ ... just look at what dreadful place we're in.”

his mind made quick inroads of ideas and thoughts, smoothing over the incongruity. he's left a little agitated but for no discernible reason.

“let's get moving before clayman here reaches the wildmother's embrace ... ” he gave the construct a knock on the shoulder and started walking ahead while the it followed behind.

“what's the face for then if it's not all that exciting? didn't think you were the kind to look down on your hometown for being a humble village. or was it bad blood in a small town? i suppose country folks are just as capable of discord as those in the city of wizards.”

[darkblessed]

@viilein sent: ❝ you’ve had to kill people before, haven’t you? you’re used to it. ❞

there's a stiffness to his shoulders that makes him pause in cleaning the blood from his hands. the plains stretch out beyond them and this riverside they've managed to find to clean up at, and his fingers twitch.

there are threats in darkon besides undead -- bandits, mercenaries cut loose from their obligations, and men who have gone mad with the mists.

he shakes the water from his hands and sits back on his heels, letting his sleeves drag down over his arms again to cover the scarring that victor has only just seen for the first time -- crossing markings up to his elbows and beyond, inflicted by all manner of torture.

he smooths the fabric down and sighs -- what was the point of hiding it when victor saw him take the men down with a precision a normal holy man would never carry himself with?

" i have. i taught myself to fight -- and certain people took note of it and made me very good at it. it doesn't bother you, does it? "

[darkblessed]

what if - hear me out - what if enebish's lady's offer of peace works as a sort of dam, holding off some of his memory so it doesn't flood him immediately when they get to martira bay. but his memory is tied to his abilities. and as they're being pursued by vampires he's had to reach for more of it, until eventually to save enebish he'll have to ask her for that last piece of memory and fully return to being a devil to fight off the vampire horde ...

oh, children. you walk into a den of beasts.

it's a lingering thought in the back of enebish's mind, the way many of his lady's words tend to, and it means he's counting the prayer beads around his wrist as the cart they've hailed carries them into martira bay. truly, it's a beautiful place, with water shining into the far distance under white cliffs hanging over the edge of the bay.

the prayers don't help when vespin is woken by the sound of struggle, of blood spilled and enebish dragged away in the night. it's a whisper that lingers at the edges of vespin's mind, no matter how tightly he clutches the ring of mind shielding.

( the ring doesn't help here. the darklord's hold on memory is tenuous here, like water through fingers, and those taken are returning soon. )

it comes first as a trickling of heat, the urge to call fire to his fingertips instead of reaching for the flask at his hip. the vampire that snarls at vespin cowers at the sight of flames that flicker green and black like something vile.

it is through her caged fingers that things come back in droplets rather than the rush of a tide.

( the smell of a wizard's scriptorium, with ink and paper and magic. it's a spell circle flaring brighter than the sun and the feel of celestial gold corroding under his palm. it's fire, brimstone, and a flash of a smile with sharp, sharp teeth. )

she whispers apologies. she cares for all things, but in the end, she cares most for her children. enebish, sweet-hearted as he is, does not show people often that she is an aspect of vengeance as well.

you, who hate our kin. i ask you be my blade, just this once. i will make the returning as gentle as i can in return.

the stronghold is a place underground, flourishing in the literal underbelly of martira bay. here, people who parade the crest of the dark lord's secret police wander. here, many of them are turned to creatures of the night.

enebish lies motionless when vespin comes upon him on this rampage of a rescue. the reason is clear -- a thorny vine blooming with broad, blood-red flowers is wound up his arm and looped almost possessively around his throat, twisted tight enough the thorns dig in.

whatever monster awaits him when he opens his eyes, he reaches with a bloodied, shaking hand, laying it along vespin's forearm quietly as he struggles to clutch onto consciousness.

" thank. . .you. "

[darkblessed]

@viilein.

it should have been a simple thing. victor slept soundly most nights, curled up beneath the furs they had purchased at their last stop, and his construct stood at the edge of their camp. it barely took note of enebish when the cleric slipped away from the edge of the dying campfire.

there were bandits on the road. they had been accosted twice in their trek towards viaki, the men driven away by a show of magic and a flash of victor's capabilities.

getting their attention again, just a ways up the road, isn't hard -- nor is it hard to spill the blood he's looking for. one man escapes and the other lets enebish finally glut the beast that's been begging him to sink his teeth into something.

what he's not expecting is the shape of the lamplight that marks victor's approach. he jolts upright, pulling his arm up over his face, and clears his throat.

the beast inside him laughs. the other inner voice thrashes in panic.

" victor? "

[darkblessed]

so my verses are updated on my carrd. this is me wrangling tags.

[darkblessed]

wake up in a new life by the seaside. / traveler verse.

expanded verse of enebish ending up in a new place after leaving the dread realms behind. flexible for whatever setting (forgotten realms or exandria) and will mostly consist of enebish traveling as a cleric offering services of a forgotten god to the people who need the help. still quietly keeps his vampirism secret, though strange happenings begin if he ever settles in a place for too long.

[darkblessed]

" neblus is weird even for us. "

victor made motions to stand and enebish did the same, finally picking up his armor and starting to pull the splint pieces back on as they gathered their things. a pull of a leather strap tightened the chest piece back into place, and a quick flip of his cloak tossed it back over the shoulders of it.

his holy symbol remained tucked beneath it, warm against his otherwise cool skin, and then he pulled his gauntlets back on to fix them into place.

" neblus is an old elven town. it's a little bigger than most of the other towns we've been in, but they're strange because the whole place is obsessed with death. the streets are paved with gravestones, and the locals don't talk outside. they're happy to converse indoors, but otherwise they don't. their reasoning for the gravestone roads is the town saying: ' by keeping the dead underfoot, we keep them from rising.' "

he shrugs as he says it, patting himself down before slinging his apothecary box back onto his shoulders.

" darkon's got a lot of doomsday predictions. the temple of ezra here is obsessed with the end days in a way its not in any other domain. "

the comment about rivalis has him frowning, his fingers rubbing at his chin.

" i don't mind telling you what happened in rivalis, because it's really not all that exciting. it's just a little village known for the apple orchards. i grew up there. "

curious he was. and look he did, for any clues or signs on enebish's face that will reveal the cleric to him further. as someone who too concealed much, victor knew the potential ramification of a secret.

but again, he reckoned he had pressed enebish enough for the day.

“ we are weird.” he only said, dryly, standing up and dusting the dirt off his pants, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. the bag was a patchwork of scrap leather and hide, with a touch of magic infused in its misshapen form, then it always seemed to be holding more than it should.

“i'm sick of towns and villages. i could use some new parts but they likely aren't short of tinkerers in a clockwork city. healing is our better bet ... ” he did a mental check of his inventory. “we are not head doctors , whatever work we can find in maykle, it sounds like we can do better in viaki.”

he stepped off the rock he had been sitting on, bending his knee slightly as he landed. “we go to viaki. then if that doesn't set us up, you can start telling me about what exactly makes neblus weird and why it's not that bad actually. and maybe i won't ask you about what happened in rivalis.”

[darkblessed]

who did this to you?

the question hangs like a blade between them, unanswered in the long silence before enebish folded his hands over his chest like a corpse -- or a statue. the pop-hiss-click of the construct settling breaks the tension and enebish sighs, a practiced exhale.

" yes and no, to more than one question. no, i didn't just wander into a vampire den -- not in the way you're imagining. they knew me, but we had only known each other -- a month or so. maybe two months. "

he pauses. no, it had been longer than that, but they had been strangers when he arrived in martira bay.

" it doesn't matter. the man who actually turned me is already dead. a squabble with another vampire meant he had his head torn off and thrown to the dogs. i managed to escape, but only just. "

there's a long scar in the center of his back that victor had only seen once, when they were dressed down for bed. he had explained it by saying something had fallen on him and pinned him a long time ago -- and it wasn't technically a lie. (it was, in fact, a textile machine in the mill that had been torn from the ground and thrown at him by alcio's juggernaut.)

he turns his hand, lays it against the scars that trailed down the front of his throat.

" it was a boon, he said, for the work i had done for them. i didn't really have a choice in the matter. it was become this or become a mindless zombie. "

he turns his eyes to victor quietly, considering the last parts of the question.

" he's dead, but the one who killed him still lives. she's based in martira, and she's been hunting me for years. and -- "

did it have to do with where he wouldn't go? where he always wanted to return to? was it cowardice or revenge?

" i just want to close the book. that's all. "

it sounds final when he says it, and he leaves it at that.

he looked, watched the poison eat away at his companion. there was something distantly familiar to it; a sensation he no longer remembered. victor was largely immune to poison, his body callous against its corruption ... but not always.

there was a time when he too was tender and new, with skin yet to be touched by flames. that's his explanation for why fire didn't burn him as bad. all the callouses and misshapen scar tissues formed a layer of protection or simply numb to the pain.

it wasn't always like this, he knew that. but he didn't know how it became this way, nor remembered a time before it.

“who did this to you?”

it was only half a question. the other half was a statement. “you said those who did this to me , you didn't just wander into a vampire nest by accident, did you. you knew them? or did they know you ?”

a few possibilities came to his mind, but he didn't voice any of them. there's not enough evidence to make them more than speculation, yet.

“does it have anything to do with why you wouldn't go to martira bay?”

the metal construct groaned suddenly, letting out an exhaust of hot air built up inside its cavity. the metal plates shifted and opened up its joints. the release stirred up a gust of warm wind sweeping through their hair and making the grass around them yield. then everything returned, shifted back into place and the construct's single, large, unmoving eye continued to stare into the void.

all of victor's constructs looked somewhat like this. geometric and mechanical, reminiscent of the immortal beings modrons, the embodiment of not good nor evil, but order itself. arbitrators of universal law, trusted to judge even the devil-god himself.

“is that the real origin that you're running from, or the place you'll always go back to ... for the monsters? or your revenge?”

[darkblessed]

he sighs out when victor shoots down his idea, because he's right. they need coin for the tribes here, even with enebish's good rapport with some of them -- and few would risk the wrath of the lord of the land in helping people escape.

he rolled through his mind of potential cities to stop in, places he had only heard of or passed a long, long time ago, and scratches his chin idly.

" there's viaki, maybe. they have a good place for me to offer my healing. and there's mayvin for your clockwork parts, though i've been told not to stay overnight in the city. "

he counted off on his fingers as he said it, laying back into the grass again.

" maykle has an asylum always looking for people to help heal there, but that's it. there's karg, but we have to get into the upper district to do any business.

the richest place is going to be corvia. the royal mint is there, and the city is pretty wealthy, but one look at us and we're liable to have the gates shut on us. "

he dropped his hands once he was done, grunting a bit as he did.

" town wise, instead of cities, there's neblus but they're. . .weird. and there's. . .rivalis. "

he pulled a face as he listed rivalis last, his eyes closed to avoid the curious look victor is undoubtedly going to give him.

he tried to act reasonable. logical . as if this aversion to the idea of ever leaving darkon wasn't something strange and nagging in him, like it didn't make his stomach turn and the hair on his back stand on ends ... like fear .

victor didn't like being afraid. being afraid meant being out of control, being at the mercy of something or someone other than one's own free will. it left a sour taste in his mouth and made him want to crawl out of his skin .

... the way to conquer fear, then, was to become something bigger and meaner than the source of fear ...

he looked up at the construct towering over him. its "face" a mangled mess of something otherworldly and strange.

“we'll have to find a tribe in the first place. and have enough coin to convince them to take the risk of trafficking us out.” he said eventually, only because he calculated that there was a slim chance of enebish's suggestion being realized. “we barely have enough to get us through the next leg, especially if we're gonna keep getting attacked on the way. if martira bay and il aluk are out of the question, where's the nearest city we can stop by to get some real business and supplies?”

he peeked around the construct at enebish. “and i mean real city. not a village or some glorified fort in the middle of a valley that barely has enough for healing potions. we can make much better money if someone will pay for our service , you know this.”

[darkblessed]

" depends on the world. depends on the salvation. "

he says it quietly, thinking of the dread domains that sank into the sea of sorrows never to be seen again -- and of the shroud cutting darkon to pieces. of the way castle avernus stood in stand-still of apocalypse.

the turn away from the argument makes him feel better, because he doesn't know the answers to what victor asked. why does he care, if she doesn't? why had she spoken to him? why had she, in his darkest hours, gone silent for weeks, months, years?

it sends him into quiet as victor considers what was best utilized to kill the undead. the radiance of a cleric, a light in the dark, was most common.

" it's not entirely a misconception. many undead are weakened by it. it's just that not all of them are killed so quickly -- but vampires are. normally speaking, they burn up extremely quickly. it keeps them from healing themselves. "

he lifts his arm to look at the pockmarks where the poison had splattered him. they would heal in time, but right now, they had an ugly quality to them.

" it is a gift, i think, to have the means to kill those who did this to me. and to kill those who would do this to others. i mislike violence, but i won't stand for them to continue on their ways. "

he folds his hands once more, his eyes closed again.

" your fire is useful though. what radiance won't burn, normal fire does just fine. "

“the end of an age is not the end of the world.” his reply came like a recital. if enebish was listening then victor was recalling; a plank of wood on the deck of a ship groaning against the crashes of waves, like it was still a tree thousands of miles away creaking in the wind. some sound didn't come from himself, but a song heard long ago, at the top of a hill, amidst a forest fire. “after the age of destruction, is the age of salvation .”

enebish laughed and victor's lips seemed to curve up as well. he could feel enebish glancing at him and returned the gaze like meeting a challenge.

“if she doesn't care then why do you? why does she speak to you, and why do you bother to answer?” something about the permeance of gods made his stomach heavy. the way he felt when looking at a bad design or redundant spell that people said had been working as it was for hundreds of years. that it can't be fixed or improved.

he knew it was not true.

but he didn't argue further, instead turned his focus to enebish's question. it's not every day that enebish felt the desire to share his private thoughts – not intentionally anyway – so this felt like an indulgence and victor was an opportunist.

“vampire hunters? is it much different from hunters of ghouls and zombies? alright, i'll bite.” he cackled at his own joke.

“clerics, holy men and women with the ability to turn undead and call upon the daylight?” the irony was not lost on him. a vampire cleric was as novel as it was curious. but it didn't feel wrong to victor, ... to fight fire with fire ... “though it's only a misconception that the undead are particularly vulnerable to radiance, no? ... it's still a nice flavor. style is important if one wants to make a name for themselves in the trade. i'll just burn it. fire doesn't usually go wrong.”

a questionable statement.

[darkblessed]

the ticking of the clock warned of the construct coming closer, letting enebish know to scoot out of the way of it as it bounded over to its master. he watched the construct approach -- and moreso took note of the almost imperceptible twinge of something at the mention of leaving the region.

enebish felt it too, somewhat. this was his home -- he'd always lived here. it was quickly becoming a smaller and smaller realm for him to explore, though.

" there's other realms. we have neighboring countries. " he sighs a bit, a noise of annoyance rather than reflex, and lets his rasping voice turn it into something of a growl as he stretched his arms over his head.

" places we wouldn't be hunted by men of state. there's dangerous creatures here too. the shroud has started eating the domain, however much the townsfolk deny it. "

the thought that things might be worse outside was definitely one he'd considered. things really might be worse out there -- but they'd never know sitting still.

" it's not -- an immediate thing. we'd have to hail a vistani tribe to take us through the mists anyways. it's just an idea. either way, we have to steer clear of martira bay, but il aluk might be just as dangerous. we just. . .have to be prepared. "

“there's always a clock on them, so all the time is only a figure of speech anyway.” he made a clicking sound with his teeth and beckoned the construct. it turned and came towards him in a half sprint half stumble. something rattled inside it as it moved — the metal box protecting the inner gears and the precious stone serving as its core. he spent over 420 gold pieces on the whole thing. the box itself costed only 400, but when victor said clock , he meant it quite literally.

while it wasn't strictly necessary, he always built a clock into the core of the construct. it ticked, counting down the minutes to the hour it had left before returning to dust, rocks, or a pile of scrap metal. it was a functional reminder, but sometimes it felt also like a mockery to his craft — the impermanence .

he reached over once the construct was before him, unlocking the metal box and tinkering with its innards as if it would make it last longer. “but i still got some mileage left here, if you have anything you want it to carry so you can preserve energy.”

the mention of leaving darkon, however, elicited a strange reaction from victor. he seemed to shrink a little. a nearly imperceptible twitch between his shoulder blades masked among other, deliberate movements.

“there's nowhere else to go.” he contested, however nonchalant as he peered up at enebish. his gaze direct but uneven, as if staring straight into enebish's eyes, or at the long mended gashes across his throat. “however bad we have it here, it's gotta be worse out there. at least we know this place. where else would you even go anyway?”

[darkblessed]

" mn. but you have to fashion the construct first. magic, in all things, is intention first. no matter the source of my magic, it fuels my intentions. nothing happens without me as a conduit. "

he misses the blank look on victor's face because his eyes are closed. he's listening, quietly, to the world around him. to the clicking of the construct and to victor's briefly labored breathing and to the ground under him.

" it certainly is an age. if the shroud has anything to say, it's the end of an age. "

the question does make him crack an eye open to peek at victor, arching his brow as he does so.

" does she care that you don't worship her? no. i don't think she does. if she did, i'd proselytize a lot more in the city. "

he laughs genuinely at that, his shoulders shaking until the aching hurts too much and he stops.

" you said it true when you mentioned some gods are just weathers, forces of nature. she's the dark. the depths. she cares not for what people think of her, because in the end, she's going to be there long after they are. "

there's a pause, a quiet, contemplative moment, before he speaks again.

" you asked what i'm hanging onto. do you know the way you kill a vampire most of the time? who you hire to kill undead? "

“just say no if you don't wanna do it.” victor snorted, before he even looked directly at enebish's trembling hands. it was noticeable. he had noticed it before, and decisively dismissed it as an insurmountable obstacle to careful work. “i'm not going to force you into it. only if you want to, then there's going to be a way. spells or devices. i let the tiny construct do the small intricate work half the time; i'm not crawling into the locked box myself, am i?”

he rotated the ring again. victor's own hands were covered in mysterious scars overlaying one another, deformed nails and knots beneath the skin. he didn't remember how they got there or when. just that it was over a long period of time and he knew strange ways to perform spellcasting that sometimes negated the use of his fingers. he didn't look at his hands.

“there's always a way .” the words sounded less of a persuasion and more a convicted announcement. “if you think you can't do it or don't want to do it, that's your opinion, and you're perfectly entitled to it. i don't hold such limited view of what is possible ... gods may have created this world but we've existed in it for millennia. it goes against the very wisdom and example of our history that we would've figured out all the things we have to this point and stop now . this is the age – ”

he suddenly stopped. a blank look glazed over his face as if petrified, or like he had seen something unholy in the distance. before him or in the past.

“ ... this is the age. like any other. i refuse to think otherwise.” then a blink. he finished the sentence there.

victor glanced at enebish's closed eyes, thinking he could very much turn the question back on enebish for evidently traveling with a heathen. but he didn't this time. he just shrugged.

“i don't hate the gods.” he answered, surprisingly truthful. “there's no point. like you said, they don't think like us. they can't very well appreciate mortal hatred. ... not all of them anyway. they are weathers, pure energy and raw force. traveling with a cleric is like traveling with a lightning rod. you attract the power without holding it yourself. that's ill-advised in my opinion, but as long as the lightning doesn't land on me, it's not personal. what about you? doesn't it bother your lady that you're traveling with me?” so he did eventually turn the question back.