#(aether and nyx were busy)

[streetlightgoblin]

Happy pride from the wanderers!!

A little thing for y’all this June!

[bones4thecats]

Can I request Nikola, Qin Shi Huang, Buddha and Leonidas with a s/o that's like Nyx?

How Past! Them Met Their Nyx! S/O

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Nikola Tesla, Qin Shi Huang, Buddha, and Leonidas Name: How Past! Them Met Their Nyx! S/O Requester: Anonymous

A/N: I only have four of Nyx’s kids mentioned (Aether, Hemera, Thanatos, and Hypnos), so just roll with it. By the way, the reader here is considered (in thought) to be a female, but it is left ambiguous so that you male and other readers feel accepted.

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I am downright in love with this man

🧪 When you first met Nikola Tesla, you were just relaxing at night, taking a stroll underneath your sky as your long dark cloak faded into stars at the ends flowed in the air

🧪 You had just spoke to your old friend Hades during a meeting in the Underworld about your second-youngest son’s, Thanatos’, efforts of bringing souls down to the Underworld for Hades to handle

🧪 At the moment, you just wanted some peace, and knowing that your two youngest were busy with work, one being on guard for dying souls and the other watching over many different people in order to help them sleep

🧪 Though, hearing the sound of soft feathered wings moving, you looked up and noticed a bright white pigeon flying around while carrying moonflowers, chrysanthemums, lotuses, and sunflowers in its beak. These all reminded you of the cute flower crowns that the youngest Valkyrie sister, Göll, would make you and your children

🧪 You smiled gently as the bird landed on your outstretched hand and dropped a moonflower into your palm before flying off

🧪 The bird began to fly farther from your gaze as you heard the patter of small feet coming from behind you, making you turn around expecting to see a young child, and a young child you saw

🧪 He looked no older than 4 years in humans, and you noticed that he nearly had fallen older, making you lean down and catch him so he wouldn't crash and hurt himself, it reminded you of helping Aether walk all those centuries ago

" I am so sorry, ma'am/sir! " " It's alright, young man. If I may ask, why are you in such a rush? " " Oh, my pigeon flew that direction carrying some flowers I grabbed for my mother. It's so hard to catch up to, troublesome bird. "

🧪 You chuckled at his expression, he really was quite the interesting mortal, now wasn't he? You could see great potential in his soul, making you look back to where you once stood where the dropped flower laid on the ground

🧪 Picking it up, you opened the boy's palm, dropping the flower once again, not onto the ground, but into the soft hand of the young boy

" I may not be able to retrieve the rest of your flowers, but, here is one that the creature left. I also have something that may help you out! "

🧪 Reaching into your pocket lacing your cape, you summoned some flowers from one vase in your home that you shared in Valhalla with your sibling, Gaia

" Here are some flowers freshly picked from my sister's garden, they, by what she tells me, symbolize things such as motherly love and whatnot. I hope your mother enjoys them. " " Thank you so much! What's your name, if I may ask? " " I am... (Y/N). What is your name, young man? " " Nikola Tesla! " " Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Nikola Tesla. " " Nikola! Where are you, lil' brother? "

🧪 Looking up in shock as the boy turned around, you stiffened, being discovered by a mortal child was nothing, but a possible adult was something truly bad. A child could pass it off like nothing, an adult could not

" I'm over here, Dane! " " Oh thank God. Who were you talking too? " " The lady/man- where did they go...? "

🧪 Nikola looked around for the sight of the person who gifted him the glorious flowers, only for his older brother to pick him up and begin bringing him home in a rush

🧪 As the elder boy ran home with his brother in arms, the younger's mind wandered, where did that nice woman/man go? And will he ever see them again?

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👑 Taking a nightly stroll was something the Emperor of China was familiar with, it was a time that he could have to himself, no guards right behind him and no duties clawing at his door for him to deal with

👑 Just himself and the night sky that he admired

👑 Meanwhile, a cloaked being was walking through the woods, passing through the trees with ease, as they had been on the same path multiple times throughout their limitless lifespan

👑 Due to being in an argument with the Head of the Gods, a headache was pounding through the head of the person as they rubbed their temples with their fingers

👑 As they traveled through the shady lands, they stumbled across a large temple, one they recognized as the very one the Emperor of China resided in

" What a sight, I never realized just how dazzling these building looked from such a high point. "

👑 The star-covered eyes of the mystery person burst with light as the sound of another's voice came from behind them, causing them to turn around, gripping a blade underneath their cloak

" Whoa there! There's no need for that. I apologize if I startled you, uhm, whoever you are. I just saw you walking alone and decided to go with you. " " It's- it's alright, I suppose. "

👑 A stern silence cracked between the two individuals, allowing the pitchy sound of a blade being laid back in a case to echo across their ear-shots

👑 Looking at the stars, Qin Shi Huang sighed deeply and back at the cloaked person who decided to stay alongside him, and he had to ask himself; did this person not know who he was? Could they be a traveler of some kind?

👑 A traveler of some kind you were...

👑 Qin looked down at your feet and noticed that your skin was dipping into a very pale looking shade as your cloak became very faded, as if it was turning into dust

" So... to make this far less awkward and save us a few moments of boring silence, may I ask what your name is, possible traveler? " " It is Y/N, and yours? " " Emperor Qin Shi Huang, but you may call me Qin Shi if you wish. " " Alright then, Qin Shi. "

👑 Qin Shi Huang sat down on the grassy plain, his masked face still looking up at the star-littered sky with such happiness obvious, despite his eyes being hidden

👑 You smiled gently and sat beside him, crossing your legs as you manipulated a star to sway across the sky in what humans seemingly began to call a 'shooting star'

" Ah, it seems that a shooting star has crossed the sky. What shall I wish for? I know! "

👑 Looking at the Emperor, you were shocked at how normal he seemed. Normally the high-ranking humans that you came across were tyrannical and fairly crude in their words and actions

" There! What did you wish for, Y/N-san? "

👑 When Qin looking back over at you, he was shocked to see that instead of you sitting there, a moonflower stood bravely, its petals pristine without any scuffs, as if it bloomed just second before

👑 Where in China had you gone?

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🍭 Ever since Buddha first became a God, many weren't fond of him, though most of the Deities littered across Valhalla have only heard about the God of Buddhism through word of mouth from the few Gods that had met him so far

🍭 You, the Deity of the Night in the Greek Pantheon, had only hear about the man through your children's words, mainly Aether and Hemera, who were by-far your most patient children

🍭 And even during present time, you loved to stare at the stars and remember the first time you met your soon-to-be husband

🍭 It was a lovely night in one of the many fields in Valhalla, and normally you would watch over your domain of the starry sky as Humanity was being dealt with by your youngest boys, Thanatos and Hypnos

🍭 You had dressed yourself in your long star-covered cloak, hiding yourself from any prying eyes, since many feared you just by hearing your name. Even the strongest of all Gods, Zeus, feared the mention of your name

🍭 Holding yourself high while hidden, you walked through the grassy plain, brushing past tree by tree as the wind pulled the cloth covering you back lightly

🍭 To describe it in a few words; you were in Paradise

🍭 As you walked carefully around many plant-life and sleeping creatures, Buddha was laying in his hammock, starring at the same sky you controlled, admiring the stars as they flickered delicately in the vast land known as space

🍭 Sucking on a lollipop from his stash hidden away, Buddha sighed and stretched his back, allowing it to pop as he caught onto the sound of grass being pushed down and let back up in the form of footsteps

🍭 Grabbing his Six Realms Staff, the God held it up for whoever was around to see as he let out an annoyed groan. After all, having your peaceful silence interrupted would be annoying

" Alright, whoever ya' are, come on out. I don't wanna waste anymore time than necessary. " " I apologize, Lord Buddha. I was just taking a walk around to admire the stars and must have awoken you. "

🍭 Cocking an eyebrow at the light-and-honey-coated voice, Buddha looked up and noticed your form walk up from behind the one tree holding up the front of his hammock and once he saw your face, his eyes widened

" Holy shit! You're Y/N, the Deity of the Night! I never thought I'd be seeing you walk around in Paradise so late at night. "

🍭 Chuckling lightly, you nodded as you pulled down your hood, allowing your hair that faded into the dust of space to run out freely, making Buddha laugh at your smile

" I knew you were powerful and all from the stories told, but they never said how dazzling you looked~ "

🍭 Rolling your eyes at his attempt of flustering you, you just looked up at the sky as Buddha stood up and planted himself right beside you to look at the stars and moon with you

🍭 It was nice sharing such a moment with a lovely person like you, maybe you guys could do it again some other time?

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🚬 As one of the classic Greek Gods, you were held at a fairly high standard once your myth became the talk of the land

🚬 But, ever since Zeus and the rest of the Olympians came along and destroyed your whole time with your siblings and rest of your allies, you became more of a side-god when it came to standards of worshiping

🚬 Leonidas wasn't fond of the Gods ever since his demise, blaming the demise of him and his 300 (though really 299) soldiers on the Greek God Apollo, whom your oldest children, Aether and Hemera, served alongside

🚬 You, on the other hand, had no-one to place a blame onto, though you weren't fond when someone were to try offending Apollo, as you had treated the male like a son since he was a young God making his way in the Pantheon

🚬 Holding his title far from the grasp of the Gods, Leonidas despised being told what to do, so, when your second youngest, Thanatos, began to hold himself to a standard against Leonidas, you were called in by Hypnos to help out

🚬 Watching as parts of the sky began to fall down and form a humanoid shape was something far new to Leonidas, and because of that he stepped back and readied his weapon to protect himself in case something happened

" There is no need for that King Leonidas I, I am merely here to retrieve my pain in the ass son. " " Pain in the ass? But Mom/Dad, he- " " Enough! I will listen to your side of the story when you take a break in the next few millennia, Thanatos. "

🚬 The King of Sparta watched as you grabbed Thanatos' ear and tugged on it like a parent would when scolding a child for doing something badly, like hitting a kid for example

🚬 Watching a Deity of your stature just treat your son like a human parent would made Leonidas' guard come down slightly, sensing you weren't going to attack him out of nowhere, you had a sense of understanding radiating off you

" Hypnos, please bring your brother back home and also let Aether and Hemera know that he is grounded for the next few months. No using his scythe during that time, only his old training stick. " " What?! "

🚬 Sighing as Hypnos dragged his brother through a portal he summoned, you turned to look back at the human and you smiled nervously, holding your hands out in defense

" I apologize for my son's actions, he sometimes gets in his own head and begins to believe himself to be more powerful than he really is. I think he's spending to much time with the Olympian Brothers... " " It's... alright, I suppose. "

🚬 Smiling gently, you held your hand out for the mortal to shake, making his raise his eyebrows slightly, he was surprised that a Deity of your ranking would actually try touching a human

🚬 Allowing his weapon to lean back up against the building's wall, Leonidas shook your hand, making you mentally sigh, thanking your creators for allowing him to forgive you and shake your hand as a sign of that forgiveness, since every other human just tried disrespecting you for your parenting skills

🚬 Letting go of his hand, you pulled your cloak's hood down and allowed your markings of stars and the moon to shimmer out against the sunlight, making Leonidas mentally swoon; you were quite the looker, how could Zeus fear you and not admire you?

" I hope I see you once again, King Leonidas I of Sparta. " " Just call me Leonidas. And I agree, I hope we meet once again. "

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Sick!Omega x Reader

Pairing: Omega x Reader (slight Omega x Terzo) - platonic Word count: 2.5k Warnings: None that I can think of?

A/N: This was requested by @sister-nyx !! I have no idea if this is even REMOTELY what you were looking for, I really hope it still meets your expectations! I tried... if there's spelling mistakes just ignore them! xo Emery

It was dinner time in the Ministry. The main hall was filled with chatter and an endless supply of delectables as you sat to begin your nightly feast. Talking with the siblings around you, they eagerly informed you of the days happenings in between bites of their meal. As much as you wanted to be attentive and comment on how exciting that must have been, your mind was elsewhere.

“Are you alright?” The sibling sat across from you questioned in concern. “You keep looking around the hall every 5 seconds. You’re not being hunted down for stealing Pebble’s slippers again are you?” They chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

You could only sigh defeatedly in return. All the words in the world couldn’t hide the look of concern on your face, or your unsettled energy as you sat at the table.

“I’m sorry. I just haven’t seen Omega all week and I’m getting a bit worried.” You admitted. “I don’t want to bother him if he’s busy, but he hasn’t been to midnight mass or shown up to any bonfires.” You paused. “He always goes.”

The Siblings around you looked sympathetically, you were clearly troubled.

“Have you thought about just going to Terzo and seeing if he sent Omega on a mission or something? I’m sure there’s a simple explanation. It’s not like the ghouls could catch the stomach bug half of us got a couple weeks ago.”

It was true, the ghouls were immune to the illnesses humans got on the surface. Many members of the Clergy often envied that about them. However, something in you knew that Omega wouldn’t just disappear without letting someone know.

You sat your fork down gently on the wooden table. Abandoning your mostly untouched dinner, you threw your legs over the bench, careful not to kick the siblings beside you, and stood. 

“I’m really sorry Sister Emma, I’m sure your time gardening with big Earth was super fun, and I’m sure he had so many amazing tips about tulips, or daisies, or whatever, but I have to go.”

The Siblings around you nodded and wished you luck in finding Omega, not at all surprised at your sudden departure.

You decided that you were going to try Terzo’s office first. Maybe Sister Quinn was right and Omega was just out on a mission. As you reached the door to Papa’s office, you raised your fist to the door but it opened before you could land the knock.

“Oh.” You chirped, clearly startled.

Terzo was just as started but he collected his composure quickly as if this happened on a daily basis. “Sorella, what can I do for you? You seem tense, come in.” He warmly gestured for you to enter his office. “Come.”

“Oh, um. It’s going to sound silly.” “Not at all.” Terzo pulled out the plush chair in front of his desk, motioning for you to sit. “Nothing is silly. Unless you’re talking about Copia hiding under Alpha’s bed to scare him yesterday. That was a bit silly, yes.”

You had to quietly chuckle at that. You were pretty sure the entire Ministry heard young Copia’s terrified screams echo through the halls shortly before breakfast. Copia frantically running out of the den while the rather large Fire ghoul chased him through the halls. Not to worry though, the young Quint, Aether, had the small cut on Copia’s cheek fixed up in no time.

“Yes, Papa. That was quite silly. Though I bet he won’t be doing that again anytime soon!” You looked at Terzo, distress still hiding behind your smiling eyes. “However, I was wondering if you had sent Omega away? It’s just… I haven’t seen him lately? I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Well, I haven’t sent him back to the Pit, if that’s what you were implying–” “Oh! No, I meant like, on a mission or something.” You quickly interjected. “But that’s also good to know.”

“No, Sorella. I have not called upon Omega for a mission for some time.” Terzo paused in contemplation. “The newer ghoul’s have been eager to prove themselves and follow up on my loose ends. I don’t know why he would not be around.”

You sighed once more, finding comfort in the fact that Omega hadn’t been sent back to the Pit at the very least. “Alright, thank you, Papa.” You smiled kindly. “I’ll go to the den and see if I can find him.”

The walk down to the den was not one you made often, not wanting to bother the ghouls in their own space, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You walked into the communal living space where a number of both newer, and older ghouls were lounging about.

“Oh hey! Come for another ghoul pile?” Delta offered with a smile.

“Not today, Del. Have you seen, Omega?” You quizzed the older ghoul.

“I saw him go into his room a couple days ago, but he hasn’t come out.” The ghoul replied truthfully. “Honestly, we’re a little scared to go in there.”

You nodded in understanding and started towards Omega’s room before stopping and turning to look back at the Water ghoul. “You guys won't let him eat me, right?” You said, looking at Delta who had returned to cuddle in-between Dewdrop and Ifrit on the couch.

“No promises!” Ifrit yelled from the bottom of the pile. You just rolled your eyes and turned back to continue to Omega’s room.

Approaching the door, you pressed your ear against it, not sure exactly what you were hoping to hear.

You knocked softly, “Omega? It’s me, can I come in?”

There was no response, but you heard the drawer of his desk slam shut. You knew he could hear you, heck the ghouls in the living area could probably still hear you with their vampiric-like abilities.

“If you don’t open this door, I’m coming in whether you like it or not.”

Shuffling was heard momentarily before the deadbolt was twisted and the door unlocked. You took a deep breath, attempting to mentally prepare for what you saw when you entered.

You cautiously walked into the older ghoul’s nest and closed the door behind you. He looked okay to you? A little stressed maybe but otherwise like his normal self.

“‘Meg?” You moved towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You haven’t been to the bonfire’s lately, is everything ok? I saved marshmallows for you and everything.”

This time it was the ghoul’s turn to sigh.

“That was… very kind of you. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I missed it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “If it was just one night, Omega. I wouldn’t be that worried.”

The ghoul continued to scribble on the pages littering his desk, completely ignoring you. You took a breath and looked down at the papers he was working on. You could see that some of them had droplets of wax scattered across them, some had edges burnt by the single lit candle he had on desk. It looked to be new songs, pages of potential lyrics and instrumental compositions for the band.

Suddenly, it was as though the ghoul was startled by your presence beside him. “Oh, sorry.” He said as he tried to look up at you, eyes unfocused. “What were you saying? Marshmallows?”

His violet eyes were reduced to pinpoints, the candle being the only source of light he had in the room for who knows how long. As you empathetically looked down at the ghoul, you grabbed his face to make him take a break and look at you. As you stood closer, you could see just how exhausted and pale he actually was. His eyes were glazed over and expressionless, the normally roaring violet reduced to almost blue. 

“How long have you been like this?” You whispered.

Omega shut his eyes for the first time in probably days. “I’m fine. I gotta–”

“How. Long.” You gripped his face harder as he attempted to return to his work.

“It’s only Tuesday, I think I’m fine.”

“Hun, it’s Sunday.”

You began to run a hand through his hair and scratch at his scalp. “I’m pretty sure Tuesday still… comes after Monday, right?” He said in a confused daze, yawning mid-sentence. ”Yesterday was Monday.”

“You need to rest, ‘Mega.” You stated. “You don’t even know what day it is.”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.” Omega fully turned to face you. He pulled you to stand between his legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his head into your chest, weakly whimpering like it hurt to breathe. “I can’t get this right, he’s going to be so mad. I can’t stop…” he yawns again. “Until I get it... get it right… I can’t… stop… he’s–”

You felt his head get heavier in your hands as he started to fall asleep against you.

“Hey,” you nudged him awake. “It’s bedtime, big guy. Come on, I’ll stay with you.”

You helped the large ghoul to stand the best you could. Omega was extremely weak and unsteady on his feet. As he went to take a step, his knees buckled and he almost hit the floor. As his head momentarily fell within your eyeline, that’s when you noticed the blood.

“Omega,” you said sternly, looking utterly terrified. “Your ears are bleeding.” You had never seen anything like this before. He just waved you off and went to take another step towards the bed. 

“It’s not that bad, I'm fine...” he said before actually hitting the floor.

“Omega!” You screamed before quickly running out of his room, yelling for Ifrit and Delta to help you drag the unconscious ghoul to the infirmary.

The days that followed were a blur for Omega. His eyes were blinded by the bright white walls of the infirmary. Unable to see more than mere flashes in time as he laid there staring up at the ceiling, too out of it to do anything else.

You visited him every day, spending all of your personal time at his bedside after your chores were complete. You didn’t know if he could hear you or if he even knew you were there, but you weren’t leaving him. Aether admitted he had no experience in dealing with this level of exhaustion before but the young Quintessence ghoul was going to do everything he could to help his mentor.

Terzo was in the infirmary almost as much as you, promising to stay with Omega while you did your daily duties around the Ministry. You had told Terzo that Omega pushed himself to the brink of death because the ghoul thought he wasn’t doing enough.

“Oh, my dearest ghoul.” 

Terzo placed a comforting hand on Omega’s forehead, tears building behind his eyes. “You should have asked for help. I could never hate you, Tesoro mio. Never. You are my best ghoul, I can’t… I won't do this without you.” Terzo wiped a tear. “Just please don’t leave me.”

Omega broke into a violent fever a day later. Aether forbade you to visit while he was having hallucinations. You were absolutely gutted, but your Papa promised to meet you outside the infirmary door every day at 9pm for updates.

If this was almost any other ghoul, the impact may not have been so severe. However, because it was Omega, the smaller Quint prayed that this didn’t last very long since his powers were barely enough to subdue the ancient ghoul on a good day. 

Terzo was there for it all. He was there when Omega thrashed and cried out, trapped in fever dreams. Terzo sat and spoke to him, pretending to be his father all day when Omega thought he was Papa Nihil. He was there when Omega tried to fight Aether, mistaking him for a member of the unholy guard, trying to take him into the crypts for further (and painful) damnation.

Terzo never went to band practice that week, spending all of his time with his closest confidant. It broke him in many ways to see Omega this vulnerable and in pain, with nothing he could do to ease the torment. Terzo knew human fevers were horrible, he could only imagine the horrors his ghoul was experiencing - or perhaps, re-experiencing.

With nothing left to try, he began to softly sing.

“The guidance of the morning stars, will lead the way, into the void…” Terzo began as he moved to sit beside Omega who was, at this moment, quietly sleeping.

“He is the shining and the light without whom I cannot see…” 

Running a hand over the ghoul’s forehead tenderly, he continued. “And he is insurrection, he is spite, he's the force that made me be.”

The ghoul began to stir under his Papa’s hand and his eyes fluttered open. He looked around in confusion before his gaze settled on Terzo at his side.

“Papa?”

“I’m here, Tesoro.” He smiled lovingly.

Aether walked in and ran some tests, confirming that the fever had in-fact broken.

“I’m not exactly sure, but my theory is that Omega used his Quintessence to ‘heal’ his exhaustion symptoms. We’re not really supposed to use our abilities on ourselves, it can have some negative side effects.” Aether explained.

“If he had been doing this for days... Satan only knows what kind of internal damage that would cause. My diagnosis? This was a mixture of extreme exhaustion and acute Quintessence poisoning, but luckily he seems to be recovering quickly.”

Terzo immediately went to find you and tell you the good news.

Once the words registered in your brain, you just about ran straight through your Papa to the infirmary. You skidded to a halt at the foot of the hospital bed, tears ready and waiting behind your eyes.

Omega looked at you before quickly looking away in shame. You simply ignored him and ran to embrace him in a hug.

“Don't you EVER scare me like that again.” You sobbed into his chest.

Omega just sat up straighter and pulled you into his lap, rubbing your back comfortingly. “No, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”

You playfully hit his shoulder, “It’s because I care about you, stupid!” Pulling away, you wiped your tears and placed a hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to act so tough. It’s okay to let other people help you sometimes.”

Terzo made his presence known and stood beside the bed. “I’m sorry I’m missing the nurse outfit.” The three of you chuckled. “I am so glad you are feeling better, Omega. Everyone has been so worried.”

“Papa, I’m so sorry I let you down. I let the band down… I was just trying to help.” Omega hung his head and nervously played with his fingers. “If you want to replace me, that is within your right. Aether is ready, he’ll be loyal and–”

Terzo silenced him with a gentle hush. “I’m not done with you yet, Amore.”

Omega just quietly nodded before his brows furrowed in thought. “Did… did someone have a giant rubber duck hat on, or was that the fever?”

Terzo and you quickly glanced at one another before turning back to the recovering ghoul.

“Definitely the fever.”

Terzo would never tell anyone the truth about where he found that duck hat.

[happyk44]

My take has always been Nyx births them in Tartarus but sends them away to the upper world when they're old enough because she has seen the world below from the night sky and thinks it is beautiful and lovable, compared to the dark monstrous and screaming expanse of Tartarus, a chamber, a prison, a place of torture. She loves her children as much as the night sky, a boundless entity can. She would like them to experience the world the way she sees the mortals do, how other gods and spirits do. Running across cool grass as the sun dips and day fades into midnight blue and wine-dark purple. Laughing around a warm fire. Comfortable and safe from the monsters that lurk.

The eldest two are as boundless as she is, as boundless as their father. They take to mortal form more frequently than their parents but were not truly born of it. She remembers the strange sensation of creating a sunrise. Heat and daybreak rising over the murky ocean. The world was dark in the beginning. Then the sun came, Helios and his silly chariot, and so followed the bright of day to truly illuminate the world. The twins had been born hand in hand so entwined in one another she had not realized right away there were two of them. Even in their choice of differentiation, they were so similar - day and the bright upper sky. Hemera and Aether. Glowing light blue air and soft clouds with the sun shimmering nearby.

Then long after Charon came - the oldest of her personified children. Born with skin and bones and a quiet sullen demeanour. Like Hades who lives above. But Hades is reclusive and seems picky about who joins him. He is followed only by the dead. He is far too busy, nonetheless, to handle a child by his side - establishing his kingdom and building his home from the scraps left behind.

Yes, the Underworld is beautiful, cooler than Tartarus, more comforting to those with flesh, but less so than the upper world. That was created for those who breathe with lungs and have beating hearts, so when Charon is spry enough that he walks and runs and snaps at monsters that encroach upon his space, she guides him up and out into the wake of the night.

Shadows lick at his feet. His ever present father will keep watch when the sunrises and Nyx must set. Erebus agrees with her. Charon seems brighter, better up on top than far down below where only the most reviled of persons are chained and burned. The only screams he hears are from the birds chattering. He was born of night and darkness, so he says good night to his sister and his brother, and greets his mother with a cool good morning. He hunts sleeping animals with his father to guide his way. He prefers to fish from the nearby river, sit in the shallow, slower end of the rushing stream. He speaks aloud, knowing his family listens. He expects little response in return.

After him, Moros arrives. Dark and brooding. Where Charon is sullen and withdrawn, Moros is brash and engaging. He dips away from his older brother to bother nearby towns. He tips the scales, adjusts the poles. The way of the world swells and shifts around him. Knives miss the meat to be butchered and sever fingers. Bows slip free of knots and spill collected materials to the ground. The sickly sob. Children recoil in fear.

He is unbothered. He enjoys their detachment, their worries. As he grows, Charon finds him work with the elderly. It's important, he says, that you understand mortals. It is cruel to befit fear upon them all because you have no empathy. Nyx listens closely, Erebus at her side as their son speaks quiet. His monotone voice echoes across the open air. I have no empathy, but I have lived long enough to know that mortals desire compassion. And I have lived long enough to know that being feared becomes tiring in the end.

Moros adjusts. Still he brings doom, but the old are unworried. They know what is to come. The finality of breath. The stop of their hearts. The ceasing of their brains. They know that they will close their eyes and reawaken with Hades' hand outstretched for theirs. Without terror, they tell him stories of their lives. They spill their secrets as he cleans their laundry and cuts their food. He holds their arms as they take feeble steps around the home they wish to die in.

Sometimes he knows they will not and through him they know they will not, but he promises to carry them back and lay them to rest in the ground they own, the earth they cultivated. He is not capable of empathy. He barely understands sympathy. But compassion is there, in faintest amounts, and it is enough.

Thanatos and Hypnos bear witness to the night skies in the months that follow. It is almost amusing the difference between her boundless children and their fleshed out siblings. Daylight and bright skies versus the boy child who digs graves and the boy who bears doom, the boy who finds the dead as easily as he breathes and the boy who sleeps like a cat. the girl who watches battles with hunger and feasts upon the death the daughter who knows only misery and the boy who can only assign blame. She loves them all the same. She sees how mortals exile those who do not fit, who are dark but not cruel, and does not understand. Perhaps it is because she was not born into the world with a beating heart.

Only glittering stars and a spot for the bright moon.

It is quiet with the twins. Instead of bothering mortals, Hypnos spends most of his time attached to his twin's back, dozing off onto strong shoulders. Thanatos carries him like it is his job. Lifts him off from the ground without a word. He follows Charon into the woods each day. The dead come easy to him. More frequently that he had before, Charon carries bodies home to their new graves.

I can feel them, Thanatos says. When they're gone.

Do you hurt? Charon asks. Mangled bodies are not unfamiliar to them. Torn animals picked apart and rotting are commonplace. The state of their corpses indicate pain though. Charon worries.

But Thanatos simply lowers his sleeping brother to the soft grass below and says, No. It's strange. I don't notice them until they're gone. It’s like a call in my head. They could be near me and I would not notice until their end. He turns to his older brother digging another grave. Their souls. Their ghost. Do you see them?

Sometimes, Charon says. But not usually.

Thanatos is comforted by that. Sometimes is better than never. Hypnos never sees ghosts. But he sees other things in the moments he's awake. When they enter mortal towns, he'll gaze with half-lidded eyes upon the mortals that pass by and murmur into Thanatos' ear about their secrets. Their fears. Their days.

Their dreams.

Within the wisps of sleep, Hypnos descends. He coaxes the tired to rest, coaxes babies to calm, settle the elderly and sick down for their final night. Sometimes Oizys reaches out and so he settles inside the soft world of a mortal mind, slipping through their cloud-like subconscious and drawing out what they hold back.

Processing fears is important to living life, he realizes. In waking moments, he speaks with his brother about nightmares. In sleeping dreams, he slips them along. Most dreams are simple days. He likes to watch from the side, a hidden audience. Even the most mundane is entertaining.

Then Ker comes along soon after. She is sharp-toothed and mean. Violent death and bitter disease. There is nothing mundane with her. Only seeking the vicious and cruel. She feasts on the flesh of the dead, hovering near Thanatos as he counts down the seconds to the last beat of a heart.

But she does not join them at meals. Her bloodied mouth is hidden away. The bits of skin dug under her nails are scrubbed after every meal. She knows her nature is unlike the others. That she is worse. She crowds around battles with a hunger for the flesh that will be slain. She brings plague with a single touch.

Maybe she would feel better if she was not looking at her counterpart in all things dying. Thanatos is calm and unbothered. He does not itch for blood. He does not split at the seams and feast on the dead. He is calm and collected, almost a mimicry of Charon's sturdiness. She is only a girl hungering for anguish and devastation. She cannot end a life with her own hands. But she can encourage it, and so thoroughly she does.

Charon settles beside her. Water spills over their feet. Why do you split?

Feels better, she says. There is so much inside me. I need to be more to let it out. Her reflection in the river flickers in twain. Mortals think that there are more of her than there are. The Keres, they call her. But she is just Ker. She separates into many, sloughing off her other selves like old skin, and encircles the bloodied crowd. Is it bad?

No, Charon says. Just new.

I like myself, she says. But others don't. It's annoying. She grimaces. I wish I could be better.

You are what you are. With his nail, he scrapes away a fried bloodied mark across her cheek. Do not be disappointed that others cannot handle you. The ones who can are the ones who matter. We all like you. Why do you think we don’t?

Their bodies do not sever in two, in fourths, in tens, in thousands. They do not drag corpses back home to devour because the food on the table is barely edible to them. They do not force disease on those trying to recover from painful wounds, encouraging them to fail, to suffer, to die. Mortals do not recoil with a terrified immediacy they do not understand when her siblings walk by. Even Moros has more to him than the doom he spreads.

She does not.

Maybe I don’t like myself, she considers. It’s hard being this way. There is no one else.

Charon’s arm is comfortable around her shoulders. Affection always feels so fleeting. Though she recognizes that she pulls away. It feels foreign to her as it is given. Out of step with who she is. But she does not pull away. Instead she leans into him and feels the water rush around her feet. It is cool and forgiving. She is hot and merciless.

It’s true. We will not understand you or the viciousness in your heart, Charon tells her. But we are not unsettled by you. You are why battles end. Without pain, without struggle, there would be no need to speak for peace. If all deaths were as calm as falling asleep, then people would keep fighting. But blood spilled, mortals hacked apart, watching your friends suffer beside you, delivering the dead in pieces back to their homes - that is what forces peace.

She tilts her head up and considers his words. I didn’t think of that.

Nobody does, he says. But it is true. Without death, fighting would never end. And without violence, peace would never be wrung. Whether by compromise or submission. He splashes her ankles with water. Eat with us, Ker. We miss you at the table.

The twins and Ker grow and venture far and wide. They sit beside battles and watch quietly. They walk through towns and villages. Hypnos murmurs sleepy words about dreams of freedom in the beaten and belittled. Ker manufactures suffering and bloody ends, horrible spouses and egregious people falling down stairs. Thanatos brings calm to the old and sick.

Charon disappears in the days they are gone. Months go by in search. Eventually, they find him, guided by their mother and father. He is beneath the earth, beneath their feet. They fly over raging waters and approach the god who has employed him.

He is working, Hades says. So, no, he cannot go free right now. But you are welcome to stay.

Oizys and Momus are born next. Erebus coddles them more than she does. But he is in every nook and cranny. He sees distress trapped in locked closets, follows bare feet as they run from screams and swords. The two fight with bitter words. When they come of age, Charon returns to the upper world. The family home welcomes him with a familiar coolness and wisping darkness.

He is a sharp-tongued mediator for the fighting twins and forces them apart with calloused hands and snarling eyes. They always silence themselves when he snaps. They become accommodating to their brother who drags fallen bodies out from the trees and buries them in plots around the home. When he appears, Momus holds back his bitter blaming screams and Oizys keeps tight her welling eyes and breaking heart.

It is under him that they learn to shift. It is not perfect. Momus is reviled by god and mortals alike for his sharp-tongue. He complains about poorly chosen words, critiques every appearance, laughs at sloppy form. It is helpful to some - those who wish to change. Who are unbothered by his mocking tone. But people are more emotional than he cares for. There are several lives lost to his cruel words. Like the two before him, he has no capacity for empathy. He is unable to learn sympathy and compassion is out of reach.

Who cares, is his most common phrase, spoken every time his sister asks him to become softer, gentler.

Oizys is still pain, she is still distress. Her heart still breaks easy and she cries more often than most. But she becomes kinder to herself for her limited emotional range. It is not her fault that this is how she must be. It is not her fault that this is what she has been chosen to represent in the world. Her tears do not make her weak.

Pain is necessary, she says as she wraps the broken bone of a sobbing child. It teaches us not to jump from trees, and where to draw the line with others.

She finds broken men with battles still screaming in their minds. Their bodies are automated. Every movement is meant to survive, to carry on, but their minds hold memories that keep them from being alive. She finds broken women, broken mothers, broken children. She finds those who hold back the tears and smile as though nothing is wrong. Those who need to let go and breathe. Those who need to cry. Who need to admit to the pain they are in, the anguish they have witnessed, the distress coming from the things they have experienced.

When the emotions release, when the pain flows, she crafts suggestions from the wisp of shadows. Run. Confront. Kill. Talk. Change.

Live.

I believe we are trapped in our natures, Charon had said in the bright of day as he dug a deep hole and she held a shattered girl's hand.

Her body was bloodied, slowly creeping towards utter cold. Her eyes had been glassy, unfocused. The world slowly slid from her view. Oizys held her hand to take the pain because certain things should never have been experienced. Not in anyone, but especially not in children this young.

But that doesn't mean we cannot change what our nature means, her wise older brother had said. I take the dead. I don't know why. I just always have. But I chose to do different than just steal them away from their homes. There are dead out there that will never be claimed. I will claim them. I do not need to claim that which dies at home or in a lover's arms. I will claim the left behind, the slaughtered hunter, the forgotten traveler, and I will give them a grave to rest.

Momus had scowled back rude words but Oizys held tighter the young girl's hand and listened hard.

You both can be better. You do not have to be perfect. You do not have to be nice. Moros certainly is not. Ker as well. But you can be and do more than you think of yourselves right now. He laid his shovel to rest on the ground and reached for the slackened girl. There was no life left in her. It had bled all over Oizys lap. There is more to the world than your base instincts, little ones. Yelling that others are at fault and crying from the distress of being screamed at isn't all you have to do. Look inwards. Think. He laid the girl to rest in the grave he dug. I believe in you.

Charon speaks these words to all his siblings. When Nemesis arrives in a flurry of wild black hair, she tracks across the plains of Tartarus, even in her pudgy youth, and declares pain of those she discovers in chains. She leaves the wasteland far later than any of her other siblings, both older and younger. She is endlessly embittered by the faults of mortals. Reluctance to leave their home cloaks her.

Find your order, Charon says. He has lived long, seen and met many. Dike could help. She loves justice, as much as you crave punishment.

Dike is a beauty on earth. Like her father, the crowned king of sky, she embodies order and justice. Humanity is as far as her range extends. But Nemesis can work with that. Social norms become her focus. Convention and custom are her loves. Remaining steady in tradition is gripped tight in her hand. She offers suggestions with a ruthlessness that Dike sighs through each time. Some are accepted easily. Many mortals need to be struck down by their own hubris. But others are argued about between the two.

Humanity and what it entails holds closer to Dike's heart than Nemesis'. She is capable of seeing what her father, her mother, and what Nemesis cannot. A mortal who kills to be free from pain defies convention, but does not deserve the ruthless retribution Nemesis would befit upon a mortal who kills for enjoyment.

Nemesis is always befuddled by her love's explanations. The logic is sound, she understands the point. But it never quite clicks the way it should. But she remembers Charon holding her hands and telling her that she is bound to what the world had decreed upon her, as are the others.

Hemera and Aether do not understand why their siblings prefer the dark. Moros cannot perceive how it is cruel to tell people of the vicious way they will one day die, nor does he understand why it is not appropriate to bury them in so much doom they drown themselves to escape. Ker does not comprehend that others do not feel overwhelming rage. How calm for mortals in the rest of death and sleep is unwanted by their siblings befuddles Thanatos and Hypnos.  Why people repress their pain is something Oizys will never comprehend. And Momus will never understand why Olympus banished him from their golden floors for his various criticisms.

None of them ever understood why Charon chose to bury strangers either. They followed when he ventured out and helped him carry back bodies he found. Animals too rotten to eat, people no one came for. They watched as he dug holes. As he wrapped them in clean cloth and buried them. They did not understand why. But they understood that he had to, and so he did.

You punish because you must. People fear punishment because they fear our sister. If she can continue on despite the pain that being feared brings her, I know that you can. They will never understand why you choose the retribution you choose. And you will never understand why they beg for something smaller. But you do not have to. You just assess their point of view. He laughed quietly and squeezed her hands. Or ask Dike to explain it to you.

In the years that follow Nemesis's final departure from the family home, Apate and Dolos spring out from the shadows with mischievous grins. They spread lies and tall tales in their youth. They find villages and scam, decrying potions and balms in replace of medicine. Death abounds. So Charon settles them into the dirt and tells them they can do more than harm.

There is no demand to stop being cruel. After all, Nemesis still jumps to ruthless violence in her ideas for retribution. Momus does not know how to be kind with his words. By nature, Oizys is cruel to mortals. Moros still approaches strangers with a bitter grin and watches them cry in grief and terror from their ensuing fates. But cruel is not all they must be.

The twins sidle alongside Ares, who knows Charon well. Apate guides spies into enemy lines. Acting becomes a passion of hers. After all, what are elaborate performances if not deceit of the audience? Dolos sits on friendly territory and pushes whispered suggestions from the shadows. Make it seem like you are retreating, he sighs into a general's ears. Draw them out into the open with a subtle trap. Surround them. Destroy them.

It is more enjoyable to them than scamming the masses, than telling them silly lies with elaborate words that make them believe in things that don't exist. There is a sense of accomplishment when their side wins the battle, wins the war. There is a sense of pride when Ares pats their heads with his heavy warm hand. They do not follow him everywhere. They want more than war. So they dabble in politics, in petty family squabbles. They still sell scams and spread rumors. But often they draw back to Ares' side with mischievous grins and help his chosen heroes win wars.

Geras is born with wrinkles and frail bones. His skin sags off the muscles that never truly grow. Youth annoys him. Hebe is his sworn enemy long before they ever meet. But Charon holds him as he breathes hard and reminds him of the genius in age.

I was stupid when I was young. I'm older now. Wiser. More mature. He holds his little brother's wizened frame gently. Listen to the stories of the people. Sit with your brother when he visits his dying friends. There is no permanence or perfection in being young. You are a reminder of change, of inevitability, of maturity. I would not be able to tell you this without having lived and grown through so much before me.

Immortals don't age, Geras huffs bitterly. His voice is cracked and gruff, like an older blacksmith who has breathed in too much acrid smoke.

Everyone ages. We simply are not bound by it. Shapeless. Formless. If we want to look young, we can do so. If we want to look strong, we can do so. It is a blessing. He strokes Geras's thin hair. And much like curses, blessings can be taken away.

Geras sighs and sinks into his brother's stable hold. I don't know how to make myself look different.

Then don't, Charon says. You know how, little brother. We all do. But you do not want to look young. It is not who you are.

Then who am I? What am I? Geras cries. I want to be a child, not an ugly old man. I do nothing for the mortals like the others. I don't bring the day, I don't let them know that the end is near and they should prepare. I do not allow them to feel their hurt. I do not enact punishment and I do not win wars. I am just old and tired.

As I said, you are change. People become different over time. They learn and change, they age and grow. And you are inevitable, even to the gods. You are the reason Moros has friends. You are the reason Oizys creates mourning. You are stories told to grandchildren, you are the head of the household, you are the matriarch, you are history. You are a reminder of the end, and you are a goal for the sickly, for the soldiers in battle, for couples so deeply in love. Charon presses his lips dryly to his brother's wrinkled temple. And you are my brother. You have purpose in that alone.

Eris is hardened to the world when she leaves Tartarus. As always, Charon takes leave of the Underworld and guides her hand-in-hand through darkness and grass to the family home. She is a bitter thing. She finds fault in all things. Constant conflict is demanded of her. When he does not fall to her huffing ways, she grows louder and rougher. But Charon has been steady and stable since birth. Her need to sow problems over nothing does not rile him.

Calm down, he says when she slaps food off the table for being too cold, or shouts that he mended her clothes incorrectly. She cannot calm. It is beyond her. Still he holds her shaking hands and guides her down to a seat on the floor. Relax your breathing. Search for what settles you and utilize that.

Like many of the others, Charon brings her to Ares’ side. War does not settle her, not fully. Still, she finds solace in Ares and in Enyo, her preferred companion. Enyo enjoys the bitter sensation of discord, the craft of competition that awakens in Eris’ presence. Eris is no stranger to being cared for despite how she is, but it is odd to see it reflected in the face of someone who is not her family.

They bicker and argue over anything. Eris is always the instigator, but Enyo happily throws the first blow. Hands beat against faces. Blood bleeds into spit on the ground. Bruises bloom against skin. When the fight is done, they grin and breathe and move along. They are often joined by Ker, bringing horror to the soldiers who spot her flying above right before the final blow.

She spreads trouble outside of battle. Apate and Dolos pull her into their lies and trickery. Arguments follow her subtle instigating words. The twins pull strings behind yelling backs. Momus brings blame and she pushes hostility. The ensuing breakdowns are always so fun to watch. Harmony and peace, a sense of calm, does not befit her. But in carefully placed antagonism she finds a settlement, what Charon spoke of with gentle words, and it is enough.

The last to find life on the outside is young Philotes. Her siblings think she is strange. Even from birth, she is unlike any of them. In Tartarus, she befriends monsters, even the cruelest of punished souls. She hugs with abandon, and smiles wider than any of them thought was possible for their faces. She is not sharp-toothed, and she is not mean. She is not relaxed with sturdy sullenness. She is bright and joyful.

Charon does not bury forgotten bodies around her, nor does he hunt creatures as they sleep. Death upsets her. Violence is rejected. Ker and Thanatos find no fault in her eschew of their nature. She does not fault them for being as they are. It is harder with Eris, but only on her side. Trouble and conflict slides off Philotes’ shoulders like rain. It does not make her angry, or have her spit bitter words. Eris finds that vastly annoying. But despite their stark differences, Philotes loves her family without question. 

Darkness does not suit her, though she walks through shadows as is her birthright, and does not shy away from the depths below as her companions in the clouds of Olympus do. Making friends is easy for her. She finds her way to the mountaintop from smile to smile, and hug to hug. The Graces adore her joyful nature. Pasithea finds amusement in their traded places - her born of Olympus to descend to the depths, and Philotes born of Tartarus to ascend to the golden skies. She does not join their numbers, but attends to their needs. It is a contented life filled with love, with friends, with good sex.

Charon waits for the call of his mother to let him know that another has joined their ranks but it does not come. He does miss, sometimes, the family home when it was filled with the life of another. He will settle there in his free time. The beds are clean, the pantry clear, cobwebs nonexistent. The passage of time does not encroach upon the home he built for his siblings. It does not rot the stone, nor the cloth. The house remains steady, stable, as he is.

Sometimes he walks down to the river. He will sit in the slow and shallow end under the night sky, feeling shadows wisp at his arms. There is no preference between his old and new homes. The Underworld suits him. Macaria who took him down to the depths and gave him his boat is there, his best friend. Styx rushes by as he floats. They speak casually amongst each other. The world is forever dark in the Underworld. It is cool. It is calm.

While only a few of his siblings live with him among the poplar trees and obsidian stone, the others do visit with annoyed huffs from Hades but nothing else in complaint. They join their mother and father in the heated wasteland of Tartarus. They visit the family home. They did not live there all at once, and they never will. He raised them to be independent, decisive. To be better and do more than they thought they could. Their home was a place to grow, and they have. It is no longer necessary for them. For him.

But it is always nice to walk through familiar doors and find his siblings talking amongst themselves. Lounging on cushions they used to sit on when they were much smaller, much younger. Eating at the table, sneaking bites of each other’s food. Playing the games still left behind on shelves and tables.

He never worried about what it meant to be the oldest made of flesh and bone. When he had followed Macaria down below, he did not mean to leave the three behind. They had ventured out, as Moros did. When days pattered by with no return, he thought they had found their own place in the world. Seeing them standing strong and hard-headed in front of Hades and demanding his return was more than amusing. Warmth cut through his heart.

Ferrying souls is his purpose. Watching the entrance when the Underworld is open is his purpose. It is what he has done from the beginning, carrying corpses home and laying them to rest, finding internal settlement in river water rushing beneath him. He is the ferryman and the gatekeeper. Carrying souls across the rushing river. Keeping eye on the doorway and forcing out those who try to push in without reason.

But as he always said, there is more to them than the base instinct of their nature. Like holding hands with little siblings as he walks them to their home, and guarding them from mortals and monsters and gods who do not understand what beauty exists in the dark.

[eorziapple]

Stuck

Apple was lucky to be alive, and she owed that to the bravery of the team that had rescued her from that fate. Seeing as Starlight was just around the corner, she wanted to show her appreciation. It was the best way she could repay their bravery, after all. Admittedly eager to busy herself with a project while Krille and the researchers ran their tests on her, she got to work, and made the arrangements for gifts to be delivered at their quarters at the Starlight Celebration.

For Violet: She didn't know her well, she certainly wore an attitude well, confident around strangers certainly. Something practical? Apple settled on custom aspected gunblade cartridges. They were especially explosive, Apple suggested Violet would appreciate the volatile approach to combat.

For Minti: Minti was fairly upset with her, it was unfortunate, but Apple appreciated it a bit. She settled on an enchantment. It was certainly expensive, she wasn't permitted to use the Aether necessary to weave the enchantments herself, but arranging for an elaborate dancers dress aspected with ice would allow the Viera to dance alongside Suzaku without getting burned.

For Ryss: Technically this was cheating, she'd come across some Nymian texts from one of her fellow Sons of Saint Coinach detailing effects of fairies in battle that mirrored the one with hers. Boon magicks were apparently rare and not studied much before the fall of Nym, but with the wars between the three cities, plenty of spoils of war were dispersed and spread about all sorts of archeological sites. Ryss would enjoy the prospect of translating it.

For Meya: Meya struck Apple as a woman who appreciated experiences more than things, and her somewhat recent relationship was quite fun for most of the company to be around. It was little recompence for keeping her friends and her alive.. but one of Apple's few contact with the upper echelons of Limsa was with the Bismark. It was difficult to arrange but she'd managed to arrange for a private table on the captains deck, a privare balcony high up the limestone tower that the restaurant was build on. Experiencing the sunset with someone she loved alongside the finest cuisine in Eorzia would be something she know the Mi'quote would appreciate.

For Nyx: She had no idea, she settled for a letter requesting she repay the enigmatic person with… a meal? She admitted she mostly just wanted to speak with them, they were becoming more and more an academic curiosity for the young Hyur.

For Zoisette: …. there were several things she could think of, a custom sword, a prototype of the personal shield her and Ryss were working on, research materials and equipment. Sweets, anything homecooked, really. An introduction to the Headmaster, perhaps?

None of it felt like enough? Which was odd, it was somewhat easy to come up with something for everyone else, even when she was out of her depths, like with Nyx.

It was vexing… in fact, quite a bit was vexing recently, concerning Zoissette. She felt herself losing concentration quite a bit, getting distracted, missing parts of conversations. Maybe it would shake itself off, she was quite happy to begin training with her in swordplay, having already bought a few books to peruse so she wouldn't be completely out of her depth starting out.

She was stuck. Maybe she needed help. She'd never met Ement, but had seen him visiting the office every once in awhile. Now that she thought about it, Zoissette mentioned he would be coming around in a few days. It'd be a good opportunity to pick his brain about what she liked.

@biot08 @saesama @erickgage @mintibunny @yzeltia @healerstail

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Apate (Kingdom of Ichor)

Lady Masquerade by the people of Olympius

Miss Fraud by Zeus

Age- 29 (immortal)

Location- Crete, Olympius

Personality- She's the best when it comes to deception and manipulation. Apate senses the weaknesses in others, playing it to her advantage. She's incredibly intelligent and cunning, with an exceptional business sense, but can be very antisocial and standoffish at times. She's single.

As the goddess of fraud and deception, she has the standard abilities of a goddess. Apate's greatest skill is being a finely tuned shapeshifter. She's able to take on the form of anybody- this includes their speech patterns, mannerisms, and quirks, to the point of being very convincing and believable. For this reason alone, Zeus (god of the sky, thunder, & lightning) considers her a major threat. Apate is also proficient at lying. Even deities who have the ability to sense the truth (like Dike, Themis, & Apollo) have had a hard time sensing when she lies. She also has the abilities of umbrakinesis and vocal mimicry.

She lives in a sprawling mansion in Crete and also owns a penthouse apartment in the Mania neighborhood of New Olympus. Apate also descreetly rents a small unassuming apartment in the Underworld. Both her mansion & penthouse are decorated with sculptural chrome pieces, leather furniture, and painted with bold colors like red, black, purple, & gold. She gets around in her custom designed black and gold truck- complete with Imperial Gold spinners on the wheels!

A notable physical feature is her curvaceous backside as well as her nearly waist length straight black hair. Her nails are always long & expertly manicured.

She likes listening to electronic, rap, pop, hip-hop, and rock music.

Because of reasons unknown, Apate has been somewhat estranged from her family for a few hundred years. She left when Keres (goddess of violent death), Arae (goddess of curses & hexes), Charon (Ferryman of the Underworld), and Nemesis (goddess of retribution) were still quite young & she hasn't even properly met Hemera (goddess of the day), Achlys (goddess of the death mist, poison, misery, & sadness) Aether (god of the upper atmosphere, celestial bodies, & heavenly light) Hypnos (god of sleep), or Thanatos (god of death).

She keeps in touch with her parents Nyx (goddess of the night) and Erebus (god of darkness) through email once a month. She's still sort of in touch with her favorite aunt, Empusa (goddess of shapeshifting). They call & text sometimes.

Apate is surprisingly in touch with her oldest sibling and brother Nosos (god of illness, plague, & disease). They talk on the phone once a week and she even invites him to her place for dinner!

She still has unresolved romantic feelings for Dolos (god of deception & trickery). Apate used to work for his company where things became tense when she made her true feelings for him known. Dolos only liked her platonically & she was crushed when he married Elpis (goddess of hope). Apate has been harboring resentment towards them both ever since.

Despite hating her parents, she's a bit friendly with their daughter Pheme- being a huge fan of her Diamond Ave. jeweled clutches & even having her own collection of them at her penthouse.

Apate is "friendly" with Neféloma (goddess of space & dark matter), Aplistos (god of avarice), Orthosia (goddess of wealth), Dione, Adikia (goddess of injustice & wrongdoing), Psionikós (god of the mind), Aisa (goddess of lot & fate), Narcissus (a famous mortal male model), Dyssebeia (goddess of impeity & ungodliness), Adephagia (goddess of gluttony), and Lyssa (goddess of rage & frenzy).

She's not friends with anyone else in the pantheon, particularly Aphrodite (goddess of love & beauty). She once went to her for help to make Dolos fall in love with her. Aphrodite said it wouldn't work due to the fact that he became "hope-lessly whipped."

Apate is however real good friends with the gorgon sisters, Stheno & Euryale.

She finally came into contact with her younger sisters Keres and Arae at the Blooddancer premier at the Athens Film Festival. It was a bit awkward, but they were geniunely happy & relieved to see one another.

Apate has ventured into the shady part of business on her own, making money her own way. She runs a huge counterfeit business, selling counterfeit/phony versions of well known brands and products- like Pheme's Diamond Ave. shoes for example. Instead of the real diamond encrusted soles, the soles are covered in lusterless rhinestones super-glued to the soles. The factory is located in the Underworld, the outside looking like an unassuming pawn shop. Apate is also working with iCHOR Tech, developing a highly addictive game app. She's also a DJ, her stage name being Lady Rogue. She earns up to half a million drachmas per gig! Personally, Apate has been thinking about with coming out with her own signature parfum, one that's black in color!

She has her own glamour doll collectible!

Apate has been a frequent attendee to the Olympian Gala. She very much felt in her element during the masquerade theme a few years ago, making the top spot for best dressed that night! Her Venetian style masquerade mask was made out of Imperial Gold!

Her go-to drink is a liquid gold cocktail- a drink made with pineapple juice, rum, cloves, and cinnamon. She also likes champagne, rum & cokes, mulled wine, cosmopolitans, mimosas, bloody marys, mojitos, manhattans, pomegranate margaritas, and classic martinis. Usuals from The Roasted Bean include an olympian sized chocolate mocha (with extra whipped cream) & a large cranberry cherry splash.

A nasty habit Apate has been trying to break is cigarette smoking. She also dabbles in weed and lotus tiles. She finds the Plutopack cigarettes "addicting."

Her fav. sweet treats include champagne flavored gummy bears from The Luxe (a lb costs about 100 drachmas) and the coconut tequila ice cream (added with don julio blanco) from Cocktails on Ice.

There's only a few things in her cooking repertoire, her favorite meal to make being hoisin glazed pork chops and a sausage, potato, and kale salad drizzled with tzatziki sauce and balsamic vinegar dressing. She also likes the "le luxe" hot dog- a bratwurst topped with waygu beef, foie gras, shaved black truffles, & beluga caviar and dusted with edible gold and drizzled in spicy chipotle chili aoli (also from The Luxe).

Apate is a fan of wearing body chain jewelry!

Her down time activities are of the nocturnal variety- clubbing & bar hopping. She also loves traveling whenever the mood strikes her. Apate can play any poker game known to man, her favorite being texas hold' em! She earns extra income by hosting the Grand Series of Poker- the largest poker tournament in the country! Over 20,000 players won prize money totaling to 200 million drachmas, with 29 players who made a million or more. She also loves skiing, cloud surfing, working out, shopping, volcano boarding, and dining out.

She loves the atelier fantaisie thigh high stiletto boots! Apate recently bought the croc-skinprint gold calfskin boots, a pricier one from the brand, costing 1,500 drachmas.

An awesome splurge for her was the most expensive Megaleio handbag!

Apate’s favorite nail polish colors to wear is Olmorfia’s “A Billion Drachmas,” a chrome gold color & "Black Caviar," a glossy black.

As for her love life, she keeps things casual with an occasional hookup. She has five different dating apps on her smartphone! Apate has been recently propositioned by Pseudologos (god of lies), but hasn't given him an answer yet.

Apate recently bought the most expensive bra! The bra was a La Petit Amour/Diamond Ave. crossover for NOFW (New Olympus Fashion Week). The bra & belt is 18K gold and features over 4,200 precious gems, including diamonds, rubies and yellow sapphires and also features a 52 carat pear-shaped ruby in the center. The whopping price- 10.5 million drachmas! She hasn't worn it yet (aside from a photo post on Fatestgram) and keeps it in a safe.

She's also really fond of her pair of rose gold teeth grillz that's encrusted with miniature white diamonds. She rarely wears them.

"The ability to manufacture fraud now exceeds the ability to detect it."

[efrmellifer]

Receptum

5.55, but with more Wymelliferel and Etien's thoughts

Etien stood in the Rising Stones, swaying from foot to foot (a habit she’d picked up in the months she’d been away from Scion duties), the Scions around her—both those new and old, dyed in the wool and relatively new to the movement.

Of their number, she stood closest to Estinien. But of course she did; to have done otherwise would have been the more peculiar choice.

Still, she was attentive as the Scions were invited to another meeting of the Alliance in Ala Mhigo. Not just the Alliance this time, apparently, since they had guests from the beast tribes. All of them. She hummed, only loud enough that Estinien heard it. And maybe Y’shtola, since her ear swiveled back toward Etien.

Ambitious, Etien murmured, not caring who heard her. Estinien chuckled.

She tapped the toes of her boots on the floor while Alphinaud accepted the invitation to the Alliance meeting, still rocking just a little until Estinien caught her by the elbows.

“You’re making me seasick,” he said, voice low so only she could hear him.

The Scions continued talking about who should go, and blah blah Thancred and Y’shtola because summoning,aye, all right.

Then Thancred turned to her. “I think we’ve alldone our part in that endeavor, don’t you, Etien?”

She froze completely, hands coming up to her chest as she nodded, eyebrows pulling together and pitching upward in the middle.

Urianger took the floor from her, stating—rather than asking—in fairly certain terms that he would be staying behind. For the defense, of course.

Then Estinien chimed in. “I’m not coming, either. Aymeric will be there, and I’d rather not be interrogated.”

Etien turned, breaking his hold on her arms easily. “Estinien, he’s just worried about you. We’veseen you more often than anyone else, especially current company, and even we worry.” She let a lock of his hair drift off her curled hand, the way one would release a puff of smoke.

He crossed his arms, obstinate. “Hmph. I will not let you persuade me.”

“Suit yourself, I’m just telling you that Aymeric isn’t trying to pin you down or breathe down your neck. He’s worried about you because he loves you. Because you’re a Scion now, and he knows—” She remembered who she was standing among, and shut her mouth.

Thancred carried on with saying those were staying, stay, and everyone else come along.

“Well, I’ll see you later then,” Etien mumbled, stepping away and towards the door into The Seventh Heaven.

Estinien clicked his tongue as she left, watching the ruffles of her skirt swishing.

“Hath trouble come to Paradise?” Urianger asked, sympathy in his tone and his posture. “Firmly didst thou hold her still, and harshly rebuke her expression of her and Aymeric’s love.”

“You stayed behind,” he replied. “Are you fighting with the other Scions?”

Urianger almost laughed. “Nay, but neither have I taken any for lovers.”

Estinien huffed again. “That is not the problem. They worry about me, I worry about them; their method of worrying is far more doting than mine is. It can be stifling.”

“Ah.” Urianger nodded. “Well, thou wilt see much more of her in the coming days, both as thy paramour and as thy comrade. ‘Twould behoove thee to make thy peace with how she may tend to and treat with thee on and off the battlefield.”

A soft groan from Estinien. “I suppose you have a point.”

***

Again, Etien was sat next to G’raha, but the two of them and Ishgard’s Lord Commander—or was he Lord Speaker for these meetings?—were all sat towards the middle of the table this time.

She sat, looking dazed and happy as he managed to rally the beast tribes, praising them and the component members of the Alliance representation for their strengths, uniting them under their shared purpose. And then, she perked, returning to a more active focus (it was plain in her eyes) as he drew them all metaphorically under the shared banner.

Etien blinked a few times as Aymeric met her eyes.

“I submit that the honor of naming it should go to the Scion whose brave efforts have done so much to unite Eorzea. What say you, my friend?”

She blushed, even inside her ears, then dipped her head to think. “I would call it The Grand Company of Eorzea,” she replied.

Alphinaud turned to her, shocked as he commented, “But that’s the name I…”

She just nodded while the other Alliance members voiced their approval, including the assorted beast tribes. When invited, she joined Alphinaud outside to talk.

Catching the tail end of the conversation, Aymeric sidled up to her before she left to speak with former Crystal Braves.

“It was astoundingly…generous of you to give the new Alliance Alphinaud’s name for it.”

She shrugged. “Well, for one thing, it was better than anything I was going to come up with on the spot, and for another,” she slipped her hand into his for emphasis, “I already got everything I wanted from that time in the Scions’ collective life. I figured I might as well pass it on to Alphinaud, so he could see his dreams come true.”

“You, too, see him as your younger brother then, I take it?”

Etien sighed, her grip loosening, but she didn’t let go of Aymeric’s hand. “Aye, I suppose I do, hmm? He and Alisaie--”

“Closed the gaping wound that came with leaving M’ertle and M’ynstrel,” he finished for her. “I understand. Well, conceptually. Unlike you and Estinien, I never had siblings I lost and found succor in the Leveilleur twins.” He chuckled. “When we say ‘the twins’ now, we shall have to distinguish between whether we meant the Leveilleurs or our own children.”

Etien’s eyes lit with mirth, but she didn’t quite laugh. “You’re right. Though ours look more distinct; only people aware of the details of their birth would know them to be twins.”

“Fraternal twins,” Aymeric pushed gently.

“Well, so are the Leveilleurs, unless there’s something I don’t know. But, it would be their story to tell, and none of my business unless they made it my business.”

“That is enough about the twins for now. Either set.” Aymeric’s voice had sunk closer to a whisper, so Etien looked up at him, listening attentively. “For all my oratory justification, I offered you the chance to name the new alliance so you could choose at least onething on thisgods-awful road you keep getting goaded along.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” she murmured in response, now looking away to hide some of her expression, letting go of his hand so she could fold hers in front of her. “I only regret that I had to do what I did.”

“Had to?”

“I cannot be selfish, or even self-interested. They won’t let me.” She lifted her chin. He knew that motion.

“Please do not cry, my dearest. I could not bear to see it, not after… after everything,” he added, his tone similar in her ear to how it had sounded years ago, when he’d told Estinien that without Alphinaud, Estinien would be dead.

He took her into his arms. “I do not mean… you are free to cry. If not to me, then to whom?” He stroked her hair. “My heart will ache with every tear that falls, but I am your shield, and you are safe with me to express what you must, however you must.”

But she just sniffled. “You’re right. I have to be strong.”

Alphinaud called to her, and she lifted her head from where it rested under Aymeric’s breastbone.

He rested his fingers along her chin, even as she turned her head to look toward the sound of her name. “Go, Etien,” he instructed her softly. “You only need to be strong for a bit longer.”

***

Etien’s mind wandered as she rode her griffin (Nyx was currently resting at the Holy Stables after some medical procedures, well cared for by House Fortemps, as she always had been) through the bluffs of Gyr Abania.

She knew Alphinaud was going to travel the whole way by aether, and he’d be waiting for her, tapping his toe against the stones at Castrum Oriens, but having to slow down a little as he waited for her to fly from Porta Praetoria wasn’t going to kill him. Plus, these griffins were ungodly fast; she was halfway across the Fringes. She was practically there.

She waved, in case anyone in Castellum Velodyna could see her, and held tight for the last few moments of her flight.

She came to a landing by coasting over the top of the castrum’s gates and touching down before she and her mount smacked into the aetheryte, then wandered around looking for Alphinaud, pleasantly surprised by how lively the castrum still was—packages went in and out, training and patrols were still taking place, the whole nine yards.

She tried to pay attention as she asked Riol and Alianne for their thoughts on the Crystal Braves, but as soon as Ilberd came up, her mind began to wander again, wanting to think about anything else.

“One bad apple” made her think of the apples that occasionally grew outside the Gates of Judgment, and then the sweet, crisp apples of Il Mheg. Oh, she missed Feo Ul.The pixie had made their way through Ishgard and tapped on the window of the house soon after the kits were born, eager to see the less-than-literal fruits of their sapling.

They’d tipped their head this way and that and cooed about how cute the twins were, assessing them as they admired. According to them, Landric looked like he would have an affinity for magic, and they traced the curve of Betula’s cheek, then laid their hand upon it the way they did to Etien so often. “A hardy shrub of a girl you have here. A pretty, sturdy little Lacecap.”

They fluttered away from the cradles then, sitting on Etien’s shoulder. “I expect the others will be envious that I have a new set of twins to play with, when these two get bigger. Everyone in Il Mheg misses Alisaie and Alphinaud.”

“Aww,” Etien murmured. “I wish the rift weren’t quite so much of a yawning chasm,” she added, “so they could all come with you.”

“But they can all enjoy it by proxy with their king’s stories. And I imagine they may be itching for one now.” They took off from their seated position, wings flapping hard at first, but slowing as they evened out in the air (and didn’t have to worry about taking Etien’s hair with them). “Take care, Etien, until my next visit.”

She nodded, with a cheery “you too!” and waving as they made their usual wide loop and disappeared back home.

Etien snapped from her reverie when Riol’s voice grew more boisterous, laughing about how glory hunters were stopped before they could start in the Crystal Braves.

She blinked into the dappled sunshine, remembering she was technically on the job, and shook her head to clear it, ears bouncing. “Where to now?” she asked Alphinaud.

He ushered her towards Gridania with diplomatic concessions that they’d take up enough of Riol and Alianne’s time, and that the testimonies that Alisaie and G’raha had gathered were waiting for them. This time, she relented in the name of promptness and traveled to the woodland city on the currents of aether.

And it was just as well, because she would have been disappointed to dismount at the gate to the city only to have to recall her mount to ride to Little Solace. But she arrived in the East Shroud and paid her toll to the aetheryte tender, and walked the relatively short distance between the Hawthorne Hut and the home of the Sylphs.

Even Frixio acknowledged that they had just seen each other at the Alliance meeting, but Etien wasn’t completely humorless about the to-do list she’d been tackling since then, offering the customary dance of greeting with a little smile on her lips. Hells, she was almost disappointed Frixio said no.

But there were bigger fish to fry, like the abducted Sylphs to worry about, and—her ears swiveled backwards before anyone’s attention (other than G’raha’s, she figured) had been drawn to the rapid footsteps behind her.

Well, she supposed they had the Sharlayan envoy to worry about, too, now. As she watched Alphinaud and Alisaie converse about the envoy’s identity, her lips parted in surprise. Not just any representative of Sharlayan, then. Their father.

She swallowed, already imagining the worst possibilities that an unexpected visit could portend. Well, in some ways, this wasn’t unexpected, was it? And yet, her chest was getting tight with the dread.

She took a deep breath. This wasn’t even herfather, so she had no reason to be so negative and scared. It was going to be fine.

And so they all set off. As Etien thumbed out the right number of gil to the tenders, she sighed. It certainly would have cost lessfor her to ride from Gridania when she’d left, if she’d known she was going to be coming right back, with a shorter time limit this go around. Still, as she arrived at Nophica’s Altar and entered the Lotus Stand, admiring its beauty once again, she found it a little difficult to be upset about the monetary cost.

Not when she and the others were commended for their swift attendance, and certainly not when she had a bad feeling about this, this little meeting that still loomed in front of them. She’d have paid a much steeper price to have this feeling go away. It only grew as his boots sounded on the dirt path leading to where they all stood waiting.

She smiled as Fourchenault said that the twins’ mother would be pleased to hear of their condition and was well herself, glad that Alisaie and Alphinaud didn’t have one morething to worry about.

But it was after the pleasantries—including gratitude exchanged for all that Louisoix had done for Eorzea and received in hospitality from Eorzea—that the foul mood that Etien had already sensed came to the forefront, casting its shadow over the conversation.

As the twins made their arguments, Etien tried to remind Fourchenault of the axiom she was sure he’d heard, and that she’d had to fall back on before, but never to a Leveilleur: “To ignore the plight of those one might conceivably save is not wisdom—it is indolence.”

The way he turned it onto Alphinaud and Alisaie felt like a slap, and she hissed, ready to argue.

The confidence with which he disowned them after silenced her immediately. The breaking of their voices as Alisaie moved to follow her progenitor, and Alphinaud told her to give it up, those set Etien’s eyes to welling.

They were so resigned… Had she looked so incredibly smalland alone when she’d set off on that forest path, effectively made orphan by breaking from her family, the way they had just been severed from theirs?

She answered her linkpearl, sighing her way through the conversation with Krile so she didn’t start crying for her surrogate siblings.

As they left the Lotus Stand, she took Alisaie’s free hand, the one that wasn’t folded into Alphinaud’s. “Well… you could always be wards of House Fortemps again. Or take up temporary residence with me, as I imagine Toto will be filling out the paperwork to have you as Aldynns the second she hears this wretched news.”

Alisaie squeezed Etien’s hand, and Alphinaud just looked back at her mournfully.

***

Etien had never been close with Arenvald—it was like that with many of the bearers of the Echo, she’d noticed; Etien could be friendly with them and sympathize with the struggle they shared, but something she couldn’t name stopped her from ever really opening up to them. She had never been close with Arenvald, but she could see just how hard the news of his permanent injury was hitting Alphinaud.

How many more things was he going to lose in this single swoop?

Her heart went out to him, but some vein of bitterness in her started to bleed when Alphinaud lamented that now he knew how heavy the burdens of other people’s dream were.

Nowhe knew.

And he wondered if he’d made the right choice. The slow bleed was a trickle now. Yes, well, it had been a choice for him, hadn’t it?He’d chosen to leave the rest of the Sharlayans and come to Eorzea, to squabble with Alisaie about what their grandfather had wanted and intended.

He’d chosen to… she’d chosen to leave home, too. But he didn’t have the weight of the very star’s conscription on his back with all those dreams.

Hydaelyn had roped her like a lost calf, then Lyse and Papalymo had slipped the hobble on.

The oxbow pinched and the yoke was heavy, but someone had to help Alphinaud carry the dreams he’d been entrusted. They’d come this far together, and he’d said to the Chais, they prevailed together or not at all.

And so they would do on the battlefield. She took his hand for help up onto the airship headed for Carteneau, and off they went.

***

He knew it was dangerous, when the fray pressed in around him on all sides, but Aymeric scanned the battlefield, his gaze settling on Lunar Ifrit, bold as brass and starkly purple where he wasn’t dark as the sky above them.

And zipping around the primal’s feet were streaks of blue and bronze, and dark, night-sky blue and silver.

He could almost hear them, so familiar was he with the way they fought, the sounds they would have made. Etien coming down onto her feet from a perfectly-aimed shot with a low grunt, a growl as Estinien drove his lance forward.

Aymeric couldn’t go to them, not when he was leading this squadron. But, he could do this.

“I need a contingent to break away and support the trio fighting Ifrit. Keep their Academician on his feet so he can take care of the others.”

An Adder and two Temple Knights ran from the Telotek they had been fighting, and Aymeric tried to watch out of the corner of his eye as they approached Ifrit.

Satisfied with their progress across the field, he focused once more on giving his all to subdue the Gnath before him so a porxie could set the poor thing right again.Maybe the Scions wouldn’t let Etien be selfish, but they would never be able to stop him from acting in her best interest.

And he watched her even as Estinien left her side, joining the Scions. Her face was tipped up to the sky as the purple-robed Ascian talked to her.

Whatever he said, it made her eyes narrow, her lips pursing before she bared her teeth. By the time she’d gotten control of her expression again, the Ascian was gone.

Etien looked out over the battlefield, her eyes drawn to a Durendaire shield, drawn to Ala Mhigan soldiers running across the dirt with urgency, but running to instead of from.

And then, she saw Alphinaud, struggling in his work on one of the fallen. When all he got was a death rattle of “Glory be to Garlemald,” he gave up, pounding the earth. So they regrouped with Alisaie, and approached the others.

Aymeric was standing with Hien when the metaphorical dust settled, which surprised Etien little, considering their positions as the heads of the most recent additions to the Alliance (save Ala Mhigo and now the other Allied populations of Eorzea), but it did still warm her heart to see the both of them doing all right after so hard a struggle.

And it had been. It was an overall success, yes, but plenty had been lost in the process. Prefaced by a sigh, she encouraged and agreed with Alisaie and Alphinaud, “one battle at a time, we’ll get there.”

She rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache brewing and hoping it wasn’t Echo-related. But she dropped her hand as the sky cleared, giving them all clear view of the moon.

It was a lot like hope, wasn’t it? Sometimes it wasn’t evident—in the sky or in the hearts of the people—but it hadn’t gone away. A new phase would come and it would be seen again.

Still, seeing the signal they’d come to recognize, both Aymeric and Estinien came to Etien’s side, ready to help her however she needed to get her home in one piece. Well, “home” was to the Rising Stones; it had been made clear by the way the Scions were talking that they were going to be reconvening there, and all of them had better be there.

Estinien grumbled, but joined everyone on the Ishgardian airship, sticking close to Etien and Aymeric at the side of the ship, massaging Etien’s hand to alleviate her headache, and her wrist to soothe any nausea the flying might cause when she was already in some pain.

She leaned against the wall as the Scions talked about what came next and what they wished they could have done, most of her pain relieved now, but still so tired.

She regretted now saying that the road went ever onward, all that time ago. Had she known she was damning herself, she would have kept her mouth shut.

As the Scions dispersed, Estinien came to her side again.

“A place to settle down. Here? Hmph.” He crossed his arms, leaning next to Etien against the cool stone. “What does he think he’s talking about?”

She shrugged, smiling but looking a little helpless for an answer.

“We have ourselves quite the man.” He shook his head.

At this, Etien vigorously nodded.

“Come on, then,” he reached out to take her hand. “We had best get home to him before he starts worrying.”

As they clasped hands, her bare fingers (fingerless gloves after all) curling onto the metal of Estinien’s gauntlets, she sighed again.

“Surely it cannot be so bad to hold my hand,” he remarked over his shoulder as they walked through the Seventh Heaven.

“No. It isn’t. That one was relieved, actually.”

“Relieved?”

“I’ll be happy to have you home, Estinien.”

“I imagine Aymeric will be, too.” He tried to hide it, with snark, with his hair, but he did smile.

Etien trotted after him, telling tales of the critters here catching her off-guard, but she was trying to hide her excitement in bubbly stories.

The road may still be going on, but she was going to take this detour. She was going back home.

[se7enforse7en]

One — Great Tree Moon

synopsis: THE ALLURE OF DARKNESS WAS ATTRACTIVE TO THOSE STAINED IN THE LIGHT. Nyx Νύχτα grasped the idea long ago. The native to the empire had understood the balance between dark and light for too long. One couldn’t survive without the other. The darkness had stained her long ago while the light had barely reached out even in the light of day. Even now, as she was shrouded in darkness in the night. There was not a single soul who had only one within them. And while she had known that long ago, she found that lesson even more apparent in the company of the religious organization she's been aware of her whole life - the church of Seiros. Their influence had been felt all throughout Fodlan for quite some time. In that influence, stood the future of Fodlan nobility & lesser folk. The heads of Fhaerghus, The Empire, & The Ancestor Alliance are led into greatness by their time at the Monastery, a school meant to shape them into kings and queens. Hundreds of years of success have allowed boasting. However, in the year 1186, things don't go as easily. For Nyx Νύχτα, she's a part of an ugly score in a history she wished she never knew about.

pairings: multiple oc’s x multiple characters / mostly dimitri x oc / sylvain x oc / m!byleth x claude / f!byleth x edelgard

genre: angst, romance, drama

warnings: strong language, blood, death, basically over the top angst

parts: one / two / three / four / five

THE ALLURE OF DARKNESS WAS ATTRACTIVE TO THOSE STAINED IN THE LIGHT. Nyx Νύχτα grasped the idea long ago. The native to the empire had understood the balance between dark and light for too long. One couldn’t survive without the other. The darkness had stained her long ago while the light had barely reached out even in the light of day. Even now, as she was shrouded in darkness in the night.

She walked through the camp stationed in the woods, belonging to a certain Jeralt Eisner, The Blade Breaker. Her heeled boots created a pattern of quiet footsteps as she made a beeline for the man’s tent. Her cloak flowed around her, covering a majority of her figure. Her black but snug tunic was visible underneath, the arms being cut off for comfort. Her knuckles were adorned with fingerless gloves as her legs were hugged tight by her cotton but semi-gold laced pants. Her sword fit perfectly in it’s holder amongst her waist as the belt had been secured from long ago. Underneath her sheathed weapon, pieces of empire fabric had been tied around her waist with a gold trinket or two holding it in place. Over all of that had been an overcoat worthy of a rogue. It had contrasted the palette of her equipment with a glorious red & black lining apparent.

Her raven-like locks had been tied as a mod-long braid with somewhat intricate braid patterns. A braid in itself was found near the beginning of her locks to the back of it, making a braided circle of sorts. It had been a bit elaborate for the swordswoman but it had been functional for the time being. The tent’s flaps had been obstructed as she moved it aside, walking towards the twins she had been looking for.

The pair of dark bluenettes had their gazes on different maps, intently studying them. They had always been intense for their own good and perhaps their individual bad. Stepping further on, she alerted the two as they spared a slight glance in her direction. She slightly met their gazes quickly enough. “Byleth,” she called out to them both, not realizing they whipped their heads up simultaneously. “Eh, Aether?” She clarified awkwardly as Hemera, the other twin, had gone back to her intense study of the maps. “Where’s Jeralt? We need to talk, pronto.” She quipped a raised eyebrow at the armor clad boy as he thought about the last he had seen of his blonde father.

“I believe he was in the back of the tent over, Nyx.”

“Thanks,” she raised an obligatory hand as quick thanks before heading to the mentioned tent with motivation. As predicted, the blonde mercenary had been writing down a few things of his own. She could only assume it was some important document or something he’d only read. She smirked at his calm form, his eyes focused merely on his pen & quill. The candle near his face showed little way to his scars as well. “Still writing in that diary of yours?”

“You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people, kid.” His head shot up to her gaze as he stood up from his little writings. He bundled all the papers together, as to not have it so easily seen. “I thought you were coming next week for that village I told you about.”

“Well,” she reached into one of her several pockets for the pristine envelope. It had barely been touched so it’d contain it’s contents in a clean matter. “We need to talk about this.” His face morphed into confusion whilst she sighed. “Do not play dumb, Jeralt. You’re too old for that and I’m sure those wonder twins would delight in some secrets.” It had been clear the last few words had been in humor but even Jeralt could find it concerning.

“Maybe I just forgot about it for a moment?”

“Maybe.” She handed him the white envelope, sure to not crinkle it. His rough hands take hold of it. Opening it, his mind flooded with memories of writing the exact letter weeks beforehand. He sighs. He forgot just how pissed she was going to be at his most recent letter. “Mind explaining what the fuck you wrote?”

“Nyx—“

“‘There’s no more information,’ he says,” she mocks the older mercenary as recalls his exact words. “‘It will be fine,’ he says. No information, my ass!” Her eyes twitch in anger as he looks to the side, almost guilt ridden. “I know for a fact that there’s something you’re hiding.”

“What reason would I have to hide anything?”

‘Far too many,’ the voice rang in her mind. She scoffed at him as she thought on the voice she’d been too familiar with. His deep and firm voice held his usual tone of distrust. In her own mind, he slightly gritted his teeth as his smooth, golden brown skin felt aflame at the suspicions he held. He had his own qualms about Jeralt, the Blade Breaker or rather, Jeralt Eisner. They didn’t know much of him before his twins’ birth. It was natural to be suspicious. The only non-suspicious element was the twins, themselves. They felt. . . oddly familiar to them both and it was clear they held no unnecessary secrets. ‘He won’t say shit, especially if it concerns that pair.’

‘I know. We might as well be back at square one,’ she thought to herself, making sure not to voice her response to the voice she’d grown accustomed to. Narrowing her eyes, she crosses her arms. “If you don’t want to admit it, I have no safe way of getting it from you, anyways. I just hope whatever you’re hiding doesn’t harm those two.”

“We both share that hope, Nyx.” He sighed as he brought a hand to scratch the back of his head. He could still feel the woman’s glare upon him. He had his own reasons for his choices and he was sure nothing he did would be out in the open so soon. Too bad he couldn’t see the future. “Nonetheless, I need to know if you’re still willing to help for next week’s job.”

She laughed. He got right to business, even as she was pissed at the older man. The voice in her mind had an equally hearty laugh before settling in his hard throne. He stared forward with his golden but white tinted eyes. His black & white threaded hair fell behind him, allowing him to be at slight ease once more. Rolling her eyes, she raises her hands in a slumped manner to signal her defeat. “Fine. I won’t forget your little secrets or your wittle diary either, Eisner.”

“Hmph, I know—“ he began to chuckle before they heard the laboured breaths of his men. They came bustling in, undoubtedly tired with his armor weighing him down.

“S-Sir Jeralt!”

“What is it?” He had told his soldiers to not disturb him at many times of the night unless utterly necessary.

“T-T-There’s been an emergency, sir! Three kids. There’s bandits!”

‘Well, that’s intriguing.’

[chysgoda]

Rivalry of Concepts Tales from the Architect’s Bureau

Word Count: 1881

Rating: G Spoilers: 5.0, tales from the shadows

Author’s Notes: Various micro scenes from the days before the End Times. 

“No.”

“Sir, it is a concept that only a skilled and astute artist can use effectively.”

Hades glared at the artist on the other side of his desk as he steepled his fingers together in front of his face. There was a list of… problem children within the Bureau. Citizens that with astounding regularity caused chaos and disaster within the halls of his domain. Shupakor was on that list.  “We do not restrict the use of concepts unless there is a public safety hazard, and a paint is not a safety hazard. Even if I were to entertain the ridiculous notion it would be the creator of the concept that would have exclusive use.”

“With all due respect Sir-“

“Respect would have been NOT terrorizing my staff until I had to come intervene.” Hades said dryly. Shupakor’s chest puffed out in indignation but the Architect glared his gold eyes intensely perturbed behind his mask. “The answer is No. try to appeal this again and I WILL censure you.”

~*~*~*~*~

“Tewaple!” Hythlodaeus stood up and rounded his desk to greet his friend. The lanky figure grinned brightly as he embraced the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect. Tewaple cut a memorable figure, paint splashes stained the hems of his sleeves and his mask, his robes fit horribly because he never bothered to create the things to fit properly. They embraced and Hythlodaeus motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk as he took the other one. “The paperwork for you’re new concept for a paint just crossed my desk.”

“That’s what I was hoping to speak with you about!” Tewaple’s tone would have been overly enthusiastic for anyone else. For him it was nearly professional.

Hythlodaeus arched an eyebrow behind his mask. “This one isn’t going to need an appeal my friend.”

“I know, I know, but I’d like to ask a favor.” Tewaple gestured broadly.

“And that is?”

“I want to ban Shupakor from using it.”

Hythlodaeus pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Tewaple, this is why you’re on the list of problem children.”

“I know that he’s trying to get exclusive use of the concept Nyx submitted.” The artist protested.

“And you know he will get the same answer.” Hythlodaeus sighed. “He’s in Emet-Selch’s office now, Hades had to intervene when he antagonized one of our new staff almost to tears.”

“Jackass,” Tewaple grumbled.

“I do not disagree,” Hythlodaeus sighed. “Was there anything else?”

“Were you still planning on coming to the gallery opening?” Tewaple asked as he stood.

The other man nodded, “I am and I think I’m going to drag Hades’s new protege along she’s the one that Shupakor upset.”

Tewaple arched an eyebrow, “Not something I’d expect from a student of the Architect.”

Hythlodaeus chuckled, “She’s Elidibus’s daughter. She did her father proud but Hades and I have both known her since she was a smol and she’s got the same tells as the Emissary.”

The artist made a sympathetic noise, “Poor thing was probably mortified when Emet-Selch came down from on high to rescue her.”

“You have no idea.”

~*~*~*~*~

Bragi smiled as he watched his daughter putter around the kitchen of their apartment preparing dinner. He set his convocation mask down and lowered the white hood of his robes. “Hades mentioned that you’re doing well at the Architect’s Bureau.”

“I’d be doing better if he didn’t breathe down my neck.” Ananke groused.

Bargi chuckled and stepped over to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into a side hug. “It’s not too late to back out of concept design and sign up with the Akademia’s music department for fall semester.”

Ananke gently elbowed him in the ribs gently. “You just want to vicariously relive your glory days as a concert pianist. Besides, I can do both.”

“Just don’t overload yourself. The first year at the Akadaemia is designed to be brutal” He kissed the top of her head and then stepped back when she started to dish dinner onto plates for them. He took his plate from her and they moved to the dining room. “So how are things going?”

“Stars and Stones, Uncle Hades is so EMBARRASSING!” Ananke dropped her face into her hands. She glanced up when her father started chuckling. “It’s not funny Dad.”

“I assure you that it is.”

“At least Uncle Daeus can be professional,” the girl grumbled to her plate.

Bragi stifled his chuckles, he very much doubted that it was actually that bad. “There is a reason he was offered Emet-Selch’s seat first.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes and Bragi worked on putting concerns of the convocation aside for now. He’d promised his wife before she died, promised himself, when he was home he’d be home with their child, not half absent on convocation business. Still, whispers of what was happening beyond the sea pulled at the back of his thoughts.

“I was relieved when he swept in like that,” Ananke said quietly. “I wasn’t sure what else I could say to that man.”

“Shupakor and the Bureau of the Architect have a long-standing… relationship” Bragi said carefully.

“That’s a very Elidibus way of saying that.” The young woman narrowed her eyes at him.

He shrugged. “Evidently having to deal with Shupakor is something of a right of passage. Hades and his predecessor have both had to rescue their staff from him every time he comes to Bureau.”

“Oh,” Ananke said her posture relaxing a bit. “If he’s such a problem why hasn’t he been censored yet?”

“He never quite crosses the line, although knowing Hades he may just do it. Even if it puts him at odds with Lahabrea and Nabriales,” Bragi reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Which will make Convocation meetings entertaining for quite a while. All three of them hold grudges.”

Ananke wrinkled her nose. “I hope I never get offered a Convocation seat. primary school has less drama.”

Bragi swallowed hard and coughed as laughter took him by surprise.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Lilith stood and glared at the thing that had appeared in the city’s largest park overnight. She’s been back in the city for all of three hours before getting dragged from her bed and the warm hollow between her two lovers by a call about a thing that had appeared. Next to her Hades needlessly adjusted his mask as he glared at the thing as well.

Behind them, Hythlodaeus and Lilith’s second Alcibiades gave each other resigned looks. Someone was going to get it in the neck for this. The two convocation members consulted together in low tones and the few citizens that were up in this predawn gray gave the group a wide berth. There was going to be a new piece of public art in this location but Hythlodaeus knew well that the concept had not yet been released by Emet-Selch for discussion amongst the convocation.

“Who are they going to string up for this?” Alcibiades’s smooth baritone would have netted him an invitation to “dinner” if Hythlodaeus had been a single man.

“Shupakor.” Hythlodaeus sighed as he watched his two lovers. Alcibiades cursed under his breath. For reasons neither of them could fathom both Lahabrea and Nabriales favored the arrogant artist. “Precisely.”

“Fuck.”

“Unfortunately I am the faithful type.”

Alcibiades drew in a long breath and released it slowly. “Why are you like this?”

“My friend, you really have no idea how little sanity there is to be found in the Architect’s Bureau.”

~**~**~**~**~**~

“The Concept had not been approved yet!”

“How long has it been sitting on your desk Emet-Selch?!”

“That is irrelevant Nabriales! IT. WAS. NOT. APPROVED.”

Ananke sat outside of the Convocation’s chamber and fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. She held the stack of meticulously documented incidents where Shupakor had tried to circumvent the Bureau’s policies. She frowned finding a tear in the hem of her sleeve, she must have caught it on a drawer when she had been digging the files out of the vault. A moment of thought and a spark of aether fixed it. She glanced at the closed doors and shook her head. So many of her friends were in awe of the Convocation, she’d given up trying to convince them there wasn’t really anything awe inspiring about fourteen grown adults who mostly just yelled at each other.

“It’s a giant fire hazard Lahabrea that’s why it hasn’t been approved!”

“Then why wasn’t the artist consulted sooner?”

“Why did the artist think it was appropriate to bypass Emet-Selch?”

Ananke glanced up a second before Hythlodaeus came around the corner. He smiled amiably and took a seat next to her. “They’re still at it?”

The young woman nodded, “It’s mostly Lahabrea, Emet-Selch, Nabriales, and Preasul. I think I heard Mitron once.”

“This could have been avoided is all that I’m trying to say!”

“Do you think your father will add his thoughts?” Hytholdaeus took the stack of documents from her and started rearranging them.

“Maybe if you did your job instead of sleeping at your desk-”

“Not unless it looks like someone is going to start throwing aether around.” Ananke leaned over to see how the Chief was organizing the files.

“It is hardly my fault that you can’t manage your time Igeyorhm!”

Hythlodaeus glanced at the doors. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”

There was a loud crack as if something heavy had been slammed against the surface. Anake grimaced, “That is probably Lahabrea trying to use the Rules of Order as a trump card.”

“You have GOT to be joking!”

“Lilith if you and Hades cannot be bothered to remember the rules of this Convocation-”

The pair in the hall went silent. That was a rather large faux pas on the part of the Speaker.

“That will be quite enough. I would suggest we recess for lunch and come back with cooler heads.”

Ananke sighed in relief. She still wasn’t sure how her father managed to make his voice carry like that without shouting. She was almost positive he used aether to do it, but she’d never been able to replicate it. Hythlodaeus squeezed her shoulder and smiled. “Well, at least the boss makes sure we eat well when he drags us up here.”

Ananke gave a startled laugh which turned into hiccups when she tried to strangle it as the Convocation of Fourteen filed out in various flavors of upset. She could feel her father’s arched eyebrow behind his mask when he stepped out. Elidibus glanced over his shoulder to look back at where Emet-Selch was blocking Praesul’s path as they hissed whispers at each other. He shook his head and motioned for his daughter to join him. “Hythlodaeus would you please let Emet-Selch know that I will return his intern when he can think clearly.”

Hythlodaeus nodded sagely, “So we’ll see her when she is voted in to take his place.”

Ananke made a strangled sound of embarrassment that earned her an amused smile from Halmarut as he walked by. Elidibus gently took his daughter’s arm and wondered, not for the first time, if encouraging her to work at the Bureau of the Architect for the summer before entering the Akademia had been a wise idea.

[simply-primarch-imagines]

Aether - Does your character prefer day or night? Nemesis - Does your character currently wish to seek revenge? Nyx - Where does your character prefer to spend their nights? Thalassa - What is your character like when angry? 🖤Both your muses. I'm totally not geeking out.

//Ok Mrs Fangirl! I will put this in the format that I did earlier

Aether- Definitely night for both of them. It is calmer, and less busy. A more pleasant experience for reading, which they bove love to do.

Nemesis: Both don't. Lilael has no grudge against anyone. You would think Asriel might want to seek revenge on the Space Wolves, but this isn't the case. He knows that they were carrying out orders- Space wolves are renound for their loyalty. Something just doesn't sit right with Asriel. Who gave the order? It is a mystery that he can maybe find the answer to soon.

Asriel

Nyx- Reading, or maybe wandering round his home. He is a pretty restless person. He may sometimes seek company from his brothers, but often he tends to spend his nights alone.

Thalassa- Asriel is loud. He shouts and yells at the top of his lungs. Sometimes he screams. It takes quite a lot to anger him, but he is a chaotic storm when he is.

Lilael

Nyx- Reading probably when she shouldn't be. She gets pretty bad nightmares, so attempts to avoid them by reading, or forcing herself awake. Of course, she falls asleep eventually, but until then, she will read. She spends all her nights alone.

Thalassa- She cries, and a lot. She doesn't scream or shout, but instead goes quiet. But don't let this fool you, if she is hella angry, you probably don't want to make her angrier, because she will hurt you mentally.

And that is it! Thanks for ask

[reapcrbunny]

fxrtunas​:

     A laugh. “They worship a voidsent? How interesting.” He wonders briefly if that is information that is meant to be kept secret, but it is not his business. He takes out his globe, imbuing aether into it. The cards spin slowly around it in a perfect circle. “Well, if that is the case, perhaps I am not the best to give you advice. The only thing astrologians connect to are the constellations in the sky.” Indeed, much of their magic is found baffling to those who do not practice is. They simply… heal, to those not familiar with their art. 

     “If it is a voidsent, then you’ve some practice in communicating with that already, no?” he jests, keeping his tone light-hearted, though he is curious as to whether that gives her an advantage… or, perhaps, a disadvantage. “Nevertheless, perhaps focusing on your staff further would be a good path for now. Unless you’ve a mentor that can help you far more than I can right now?”

(    🐇   )             <       IT IS MERELY    a theory.    a feeling.      >      she waves a hand nonchalantly after her response,    nose scrunching up as she awkwardly situated the staff under her arm so she could respond as she needed.    this was going to be complicated as hands were needed for not just communication but    SPELLCASTING AS WELL.

HER FRUSTRATED GAZE    goes from her staff to his globe    ;    ice blue eyes focusing on it for a moment.    she’s always held interest in those of her friends that have the skill with the constellations    (    she felt a pull toward such magicks but not enough to where    IT WAS DIRE    ).    

SHE SHRUGS A SHOULDER    in response,    nodding once.    he had a point,    if she knew anything it was voidsents.    nyx could possibly tell her a thing or two about whatever the hells was in the forest,    let alone the godsdamned tree.    though she’d likely end up being     CRYPTIC AND UNHELPFUL    .  .

       <     BUSY.    IT IS    slow process.     >      

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

A Dark Redemption // [Part I]

Prompt | "Mountain being found by Ivy in the woods, not summoned"

Word count | 1.3k

⚠️ Warnings | Mountain is kind of a spooky bitch at first, very possible OOC Ivy, story has a bit of a horror vibe.

Plot Summary: Livestock have been going missing from the back pasture, Siblings have been telling stories of a 'demon' in the woods. Terzo sends Ivy to investigate, only for the ghoul to find the woodland creature and give him a chance at redemption.

A/N: This was all @sister-nyx's idea. I had such a fun time writing it though! I hope you love it as much as I did writing it!!!! One chapter will be released every day at 10am EST! 🖤 xo Emery

Night had quietly fallen over the Abbey. The Ghouls were enjoying their time lounging in the common area, but unlike most days, not a sound could be heard. Terzo had pushed them hard at practice today, never satisfied with anything they seemed to try. 

Poor Ifrit, eager to prove himself, played so hard that halfway through the solo in Jigolo Har Megiddo, his fingers actually started to bleed. Yet he kept playing, his white guitar turning grey as the ghoul’s blood was smeared all over it. On the couch, Aether currently had the Fire ghoul sat on his lap as he worked to heal the puncture wounds on his fingers. 

Aether didn’t get off any easier. Also eager to prove that he was a worthy replacement for Omega, Aether ended up dislocating his pinky finger four times. Thankfully it was an easy fix when he had a couple seconds, using his Quintessence to pop it back into place. However, that didn’t mean the ghoul wasn’t silently crying out in pain every time it happened.

The pack was a mess.

The only sounds that could be heard from within the den were odd grunts and groans as they struggled to move. Not a single one of them could be angry at their Papa though, they all knew he was going through a rough time.. Losing so many of his most trusted ghouls all at once would do that to a man. No one knew that better than Ivy.

The Earth ghoul would often bring Terzo leftovers when he missed dinner. When Aether was busy in the infirmary looking after Omega’s patients, Ivy would be there to listen to Terzo’s heartbroken cries. They had built quite a bond over the last month or so.

A quiet knock was heard before Terzo quietly walked into the den. The ghouls thought it was cute when he knocked. It was kind of pointless since they all knew he was there long before he even got close to the entrance. Perks of their heightened senses.

The ghouls attempted to sit up straighter at the sight of their Papa, who winced in guilt as he heard their pained struggles.

“I just wanted to come in and say, I’m very sorry for how I treated you all today.” Terzo hung his head in shame. “I know you are trying very hard. I was not very appreciative of that. You all have large shoes to fill. I sometimes forget some of you have not been here that long, and it will take some time.”

Aether ran a soothing hand over Ifrit’s head before he stood from the couch. “Papa, you don’t need to apologize–”

“Yes, I do!” Terzo cut in. “It was not right. That is not who you need me to be, that is not who I need to be. My loving ghouls, I am very sorry.”

The pack turned to look at each other, silently contemplating whether to accept their Papa’s apology. Nodding to each other before they moved to embrace Terzo in a crushing pack hug. Leaning next to his ear, Dewdrop whispered, “Do it again, and I will float your mattress down the river.”

Terzo could only chuckle and lovingly kiss his newest Water ghoul on the forehead. “I would expect nothing less.”

The ghouls released him from their cuddle, going back to dynamically flopping over the couches and chairs. A desperate attempt to relieve some pressure from their aching knees, back and feet. Terzo stopped Ivy before he could join the rest of the pack.

“May I speak with you a moment?”

Ivy nodded and followed Terzo outside the den, walking slowly beside him through the basement halls.

“I wondered,” Terzo said cautiously. “Have you… noticed some of the livestock missing from the back pasture?”

Ivy pondered. The ghoul did overhear some of the Siblings talking about the forest the other day, but he wasn’t sure if that was why. “I might have heard something about that.”

Terzo stopped before rounding the corner. “Now, please don’t take this the wrong way,” he said softly. “But you ghouls haven’t… if there isn’t enough food at dinner time–”

“Oh! No, Papa. We would never,” Ivy quickly defended. “I can double check with the pack, but as far as I know, the answer is no. The Catholic sheep and goats up the road are plenty.”

Terzo exhaled in relief. “Thank, Satan.”

“Would you like me to go investigate?” The Earth ghoul offered, tilting his head in curiosity. “I did notice some of the Siblings have been afraid to go into the forest lately, and Dewdrop mentioned the fish have been missing from the black lake for a few weeks now.”

“That is strange.” He furrowed his brow in thought. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you beyond what I have already asked.”

Ivy just smiled at him. “It would be no trouble, Papa. As an Earth ghoul, the forest is my responsibility since Earth and Pebble are… no longer able to fulfill their duties.”

The air around the two turned melancholy for a moment before Ivy placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head in respect to his leader. “I will gladly get to the bottom of this.”

Terzo gently placed a hand on the Earth ghoul’s cheek, forcing the dark entity to look at him as he smiled warmly. “I knew I could count on you. Thank you, Ivy. I am in your debt.”

“It is my honour to be of service, Sir.”

Terzo was more patient and forgiving after that. Band practice actually became fun for the ghouls. One day, ‘For shits and giggles’ he said, Terzo let everyone switch places.

Seeing only the tips of little Dewdrops horns as he struggled to see behind Earth’s drums, and witnessing Aether’s awkward T-Rex fingers tapping all the wrong notes on Zephyr’s keyboard had everyone in a laughing fit for half an hour.

Things had been going well.

It was a day off when Ivy decided to finally see what the big fuss in the forest was. Since the talk with Terzo, there had been strange happenings every time someone ventured in too far.

Aether said a Sister of Sin came running into the infirmary a few nights ago with strange bruises around her ankles, and cuts all over like she had been dragged through a rose bush. She had been screaming in terror about how the forest had glowing eyes as it dragged her in and tried to eat her.

More livestock had been going missing too: sheep, goats, and now Missy, Terzo’s beloved dairy cow. Whatever was haunting these woods was hungry, and it was getting brave.

Before midnight mass yesterday, Terzo had a message. 

“I understand you are all afraid of something in the forest, yes?” Quiet murmurs erupted around the main hall. “Do not fear, I have it being looked into. The forest will be safe again soon enough, I implore you to be patient. In the meantime, Siblings will no longer be able to venture into the forest unaccompanied. If you need to journey past the treeline, please do take one of the larger ghouls with you.”

It didn’t take ghoulish hearing to notice that a large number of the Clergy were not impressed, or comforted by the announcement. It was the best Terzo could offer with the limited information he had.

From that moment, Ivy knew solving the mystery within the woods was of the utmost importance.

That night, Ivy left his room and walked past the ghoul pile happening in the living room. Aether, ever the mom, tiredly lifted his head as he felt the Earth ghoul walk by.

“Going out? At this hour?”

Ivy stopped to look at Aether on the bottom of the pile, his head popped up behind Ifrit’s chest as the Fire ghoul used him as a pillow. “Papa asked me to look into what’s scaring the Siblings in the forest.”

Aether just sleepily nodded as he shut his violet eyes once again and mumbled, “Ok, be safe. Yell if you… need us.”

Ivy smiled lovingly at the sight of the four snoring ghouls on the floor before leaving the den to start his mission.

[Next]

[nachthimmei]

Backstory

I’m still struggling with translating Night’s backstory so have a short summary for now, until I can write down the whole thing.

Sailor Night’s home planet was a small blue planet named Mond-era, in the Triangulum galaxy. There was no star as bright as the Sun there, but Mond-era even surrounded by an everlasting darkness, was still a lively and peaceful planet, thanks to its ruler Queen Nyx, and her nocturnal crystal.

Queen Nyx one day adopted a child and named her her heir. The child was Erebos, a little girl with a blue crescent on her forehead, as she came from a noble line of mage. It was deemed as a good presage that the Queen choose someone from that old noble line; they were wrong. The timid princess Erebos grew loved by her adoptive mother, by her two guardians Sailor Epiphron and Sailor Aether who were there when the busy Queen couldn’t, sheltered from everything. Blessed by the nocturnal crystal, she lived a happy life for centuries.

When she was a young adult, she met an extraordinary woman: Prince Ionathen of Harpae, the closest planet to Mond-era and home planet of Sailor Aether. Ionathen was everything the quiet Erebos wasn’t; bold, loud, full of energy and empathy. The title of ‘Prince’ was the only thing she kept from an identity she rejected. Sure, she was born as the son of the King, making her the heir of Harpae but she wanted her people to acknowledge her as a woman instead on focusing on her body and title.

Erebos was strongly impressed, and the two women became friends and saw each other as often as possible. Soon enough, the friends became lovers. Erebos never thought she could be so happy.

This peaceful life, a bit more lively thanks to Ionathen, didn’t last. One day, Queen Nyx was found dead. Not of old age, not of sickness... she fell asleep and never woke up. Erebos barely had time to mourn her before she was crowned Queen of Mond-era and inherited the nocturnal crystal. A a pair of black wings appeared in Erebos’ back and in her hand, the crystal briefly changed into a sword. This was a first in Mond-era; the wings were expected, the crystal changing form in the hands of its new owner was part of the ritual, but into a weapon... Erebos didn’t know what form the crystal took in Nyx’s hands... she knew nothing. She didn’t know how to be a queen, she wasn’t sure she could use the crystal the way Queen Nyx did, to change the darkness into energy and bless the planet. The former Queen always told her she would be ready when her time to reign would come but... she wasn’t.

Sailor Epiphron and Sailor Aether guided her as much as they could, but it didn’t take long for people to notice the new Queen wasn’t as strong as her predecessor and could be used. A couple of nobles harboring the same blue crescent as Queen Erebos offered her their help as a council; they would take decisions and the Queen would simply agree or not. It seemed perfect in Erebos’ eyes to lift the weight on her shoulders a little, and she agreed. Mond-era’s politics changed drastically in a couple of months. The council added taxes, formed an army, things impossible under the reign of the peaceful Queen Nyx. But Queen Erebos should be a warrior leader, they argued, the nocturnal crystal changing into a sword was the proof that Mond-era’s slumber was over.

The first wars started. Mond-era’s army conquered a few surrounding planets in a blink and Erebos was soon reigning over an empire. She listened to the council more and more, relying on them blindly despite the warnings of Ionathen, Epiphron and Aether. She even found herself on the battlefield, proving she was worthy of the title of Warrior Queen.

One day, she asked Ionathen her hand. She would soon be called Empress and needed someone in the throne next to hers; it was only a matter of time before Harpae became a part of the empire, after all... but she wanted to do things peacefully this time. Ionathen asked her to give her some time. She waited and waited... but Ionathen never came back. And the people of Mond-era, who had been protesting the new politics for awhile, were more and more loud outside the walls of the castle.

Erebos became paranoid. She sent half of her army to invade Harpae, losing the truth of Sailor Aether who choose the side of her home planet. The other half of the army had to protect the castle from the people of Mond-era themselves. It was a revolt. Harpae managed to repel Mond-era’s army and a few soldiers, lead by Sailor Aether, marched on Mond-era with the intention of bringing down the Queen and the Council. The members of the council were all killed before they arrived, by soldiers of Mond-era siding with the people.

Prince Ionathen planned to warn Erebos and help her to flee; before she could, she was killed in her own palace, branded as a traitor who sided with the evil Queen of Night.

Erebos never knew of that. She never saw Sailor Epiphron defending her castle until she was face to face with Sailor Aether, the friend and ally she grew up with. She didn’t see how both guardians fought, shooting: “Your duty was to protect the Queen!” “She is not my Queen!”

Aether received a fatal blow and fell. Epiphron, losing her mind when she realized she had the blood of her friend on her hands, turned her weapon against herself and died here in front of the doors of the castle. Queen Erebos saw their corpses from the balcony where she and Queen Nyx made so many appearances before. Instead of a cheering mass waving back at her, all she saw was people fighting, soldiers falling, her own name a chant. Bring down the evil Queen, the cold Queen, the warrior Queen... Yes, she was all of that. If they wanted her to, then... she would become all of that.

She brandished the nocturnal crystal in front of her and summoned its power; not to bless the planet and its people like she usually did, she wanted power to destroy, to punish those who betrayed her, she wanted silence, she wanted... no, those peaceful days would never come back.

The power of the nocturnal crystal turned her pale skin a dark shade of blue like Queen Nyx’s was, and absorbed all the darkness in the sky of Mond-era as well as the one inside its owner’s heart. It became a wave of pure silver light who blinded everyone on Mond-era.

“Nocturnal Punishment!”

All the power of the crystal, a stone whose purpose was to bless, not to hurt, was used. The flood of energy killed every single person on Mond-era in front of Queen Erebos’ eyes, and when the last soul gave in, the nocturnal crystal broke into pieces. Erebos died as well, and the moment after, deprived of its source of energy, the planet Mond-era was destroyed.

But the nocturnal crystal, even in little pieces, still had a spark of power left. And that’s how it captured Erebos’ soul and sent her to rest inside a star for thousand of years. That’s the time it took for the nocturnal crystal to reform itself and bring back its owner to life on another planet. Now called Sailor Night, Erebos had to atone for the destruction she caused and the many lives lost because of her weakness. Sailor Night’s sole purpose is to fight. She fight for others, against others, her sword in hand, blindly following the mission the nocturnal crystal chooses for her in hope it would grant her eternal rest one day. Once, twice, she tried and killed herself only to be brought back right away. She isn’t allowed to rest yet.

She dies, and dies and dies many times over hundred of years, and each time comes back on a different planet with a different mission, her memories of Mond-era still as fresh as if it all happened the day before.