devourersofgods

[devourersofgods]

Got things to answer/reply to from months ago, hope its not to late to ;-;

[devourersofgods]

Trying to drag myself back on here and hoping life stops getting to me lmao

[devourersofgods]

“Partners?” The very word causes his whole body to tense, for it is a word that has been tainted by betrayal. It is not something he can say as easily as the mustari can. 

There is a part of him that hates to admit that they are right, however, that with now working together then perhaps he should share some knowledge on how the gauntlet runner works. Just goes to show how unused he is to have the presence of another within this empty and hollow space. He also doesn’t need to let them know the secrets that it holds. At least for now, until he knows for certain the mustari could be trusted. “I’ll think about teaching you about its operation. The runner’s activation is linked to me before you get any ideas, though.” With that does he getsure with his metallic hand. A test of the waters of offered information.

The tease and nudge makes him splutter and blush, glad for the comfort of his hood hiding his face away from the other. Oh, he was so not used to that. There’s self depreciation in that he knows that it would not last for long, that Mana would no doubt be repulsed upon discovering his secret.

As a way to distract himself he slips into the runner’s kitchen, putting away his (limited) food supplies and the herbs that he had been pleased to get his hands on. Right, another issue with no longer being by himself, he’s going to need to make more trips for food and other supplies. With that thought in mind, he returns to the hallway, making a direct path to the cockpit of the runner, already regretting that impulsive offer. What in the hell was he getting himself into. With a sigh he gestures for the mage to follow him, where they would see within, that alongside the seat for the pilot, there was also a passenger seat. “Our first priority is leaving this place behind and making a stop at another settlement for supplies, what I have currently will not be enough to sustain two people.”

JUBILANT EYES CRINKLE BEHIND THE MASK, THOUGH HE CANNOT PERCIEVE THE IMPISH SMILE ACCOMPANYING IT ——— "And what makes you think you can keep it a secret from me in the first place? We are partners now, Soren, and thus must now consider all situations as a pair. Lest you wish for a swift return to chains and cages, you ought to think of the bigger picture here."

The tip of the mage's staff hits the floorboards of the runner's interior quietly, trinkets clinking quietly against one another as they perused the rather... well-kept space. Far tidier than what one would expect of a runaway with little else to him outside of family treasures.

"What would happen, for example, if you were at any point incapacitated by any future bounty hunters? We'd be sitting ducks awaiting both capture and potential slaughter, all because you never told me how to properly operate our only method of escape." Tsk, tsk, little bird ——— you mustn't be so cruel! ...Still, the additional offer finds a way to pique their interest (and mischief). They walk closer to the ishkia as a result, cheekily nudging their shoulder against him.

"So you don't trust me to learn of its operation, yet would still allow me passage within such an intimate space? Perhaps my use of 'partner' was too loose for your understanding. Nevertheless, I would be most interested."

[devourersofgods]

Never could he have suspected that this shopping trip would take such a turn after all the mirth from the beginning of their day. Now there was nothing but painful truths and a mess of emotions, no doubt staining their tip out.

“B-better? Better for who? Did she think I would never find out?” Amira sure had a lot to answer for and thus it was her that would be the focus of his anger and pain. It haunts him now to recall all the times he’d said they had all made it out of the void alive, when that was not the case at all. No one had ever corrected him.

There’s a shake of his head as he continues to struggle to comprehend what he was hearing and slightly can he feel himself struggling to stay mentally present, slipping into old coping methods. Not now. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he gains the strength to push words from his lips again. “I…we…we need to get off this boat.” And thus does he turn his head towards the gondolier, ignoring the concerned gaze. “Stop the boat, we need to go.” This time his voice lacks any pain and anger, his tone cold and hollow.

As soon as the boat comes to a stop, does he make his swift exit, trying to ensure that Rael is kept steady so as to not disturb her more than she already was. Even further does he feel himself slip away, mind trying to forcefully shut down, unable to take the weight of this new knowledge. His ears can hardly pick up on the other viera’s sobs. 

Between Mana and Rael he’s aware that he’s needed, that he needs to stay present. Thus, he does the only thing he can think of, hand reaching up to tug the eyepatch off his face and allowing the sudden onslaught of light upon his sensitive eye be the pain that grounds him to this reality, a pained cry leaving his lips. 

No doubt the gondolier was wondering what in the hells they’d gotten themselves into.

Finally does he turn back towards Mana, hearing the pained apologies that spilled from his lips. Deep down he knows despite the mess of thoughts that he could not blame Mana for his part in this. Amira and himself was to blame, for all this began with that contract written in blood all those years ago. 

He holds out his free hand for him to take, to help him off the boat. “We should go somewhere else.” This was hardly something he wanted to talk about in the presence of anyone else. “The fault lies in her for insisting this be kept a secret.”

AND SO IT BEGAN, JUST AS HE’D ANTICIPATED ALL ALONG; THE (PRETTY) BOW TYING ALL HIS WORDS TOGETHER COMING APART ALL AT ONCE ——— and in so similar a fashion to rivulets in the wilderness, so too did tears trail down his cheeks, dripping onto trembling hands. Lips still throbbing from the guilt of having spoken such horrid words aloud.

It was true, all true — and he was just as guilty as the rest for having hid it this long. Were the circumstances any different—if they could possibly ever be—he would’ve told him far sooner, but… “…S-She… made it very clear that you could not know, Soren. That it was better for you to never know, considering everything that happened.” He nearly choked on another sob, shakily wiping at his eyes. “A-And I… I shouldn’t have listened to her, I know. I should’ve b-been honest from the start… but of course I wasn’t, b-because I’m… I’m such a horrible person…!”

His head fell into his hands soon after, body wracked with muffled cries, catching the concerned attention of the gondolier who up until that point had been giving the (presumed) couple their own space… to a degree. Now did not seem so great a time to enjoy the scenic route…

“…I don’t know what else was ‘planned’ b-beyond her accepting my plea… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…!”

[devourersofgods]

Finally the truth is brought to light and with it, an answer to the question that Soren had suspected since he had woken up following that fateful fight with Lachesis. Even now does Mana’s words that day echo in his mind, the ones that had brought him confusion at the time. 

“D-Don’t…don’t ever leave me like that again…please...my heart couldn’t bear it. I can’t do this without you…” 

He had suspected that if he was right at the time, that he had died, that it would have been the result of his injuries and the needle. It made a painful amount of sense, from Mana’s words, to the dulled connection he felt with Amira. He had died and the contract was no more. Despite having suspicions it did not make hearing the truth any easier.

With Amira and Mana knowing the truth there was no doubt to him that Orpheus was aware also, leaving Soren himself the only one in the dark with many questions as to what transpired while he was ‘unconscious’. “You all…knew and never said anything? Why…not tell me sooner?” Pain and upset laced every word within his questions, desperate for an answer.

Hearing the actual truth was too much for him, that he had been killed in order to be saved. His hand leaves his eye, instead coming to cover his mouth as another wave of nausea overcomes him, trying to push away at the bile rising in his throat. 

Dead. Killed.

How he wishes that he wasn't currently stuck on this boat, or handed their daughter. His eye lowers to meet her own eyes staring back at him, a few noises leaving her lips as though distressed by the lack of touch. How could he hold her in knowing this? That her father was a dead man. Gods…what did this make him? What was it that he had become?

There…there must be something he was missing. He swallows down the bile, allowing his hand to shakily stroke Rael’s cheek once more, even if he no longer felt the right to do so.

“Killed…I…I don’t understand. What in the hells was she planning...?”

THE JUDGEMENT HOUR WAS NIGH; SINS AND ALL TO BE BROUGHT TO BEAR ——— and the guilty party’s lips tremble still with the full weight of the truth. With his hands free, they’re quick to clasp together upon his lap. Remembering so vividly of dusk and desolation — of desperation and dire straits. Avoiding the other’s gaze, he continued to push the words out against the crippling fear clawing his heart.

“…When you were struck by the Lachesis’s needle…” he began, squeezing his eyes shut to force himself to remember, “…you were also… dying. And no amount of magicks I endeavored to employ could hope to save you. I was going to lose you forever, a-and… and that terrified me, Soren…”

Returning to a life of loneliness so soon after finally having it all was too much to bear at the time. From the way the color had been draining from his face, to the weakness he could see and feel beneath his touch as he’d tried to ease the pain — all things that had sent Mana into unimaginable hysterics. He couldn’t let it end like that.

His eyes open once more. Gazing out toward the glistening river. Though the blurriness from growing tears left him unable to truly appreciate its gleam.

“…Thus, in my despair, I had begged Amira repeatedly for help — I wanted to save you, no matter the cost. No matter what you became. …A-And so, I… I helped her do it. B-But… I didn’t think it would involve… k-killing you first…”

[devourersofgods]

Touch retreated almost as quickly as it was given to retrieve their daughter from the arms of a distressed Mana. Slowly, he reaches out to Rael to resume gentle touch upon her cheek in an attempt to make the passage of arms less disorienting. It pained him that neither his actions or words seemed to sooth his love in the slightest.

“Why…would I cast you aside after everything we have been through?” Confusion tinges his tone, at a loss for what he could mean. No disagreement or the aftermath following the return of his magicks had made him love him any less. He doubts anything could shake that.

The fingers stroking against Rael’s cheek pauses momentarily upon the mention of his strange survival, a feeling of dread starting to settle within his gut. It had been one of his many (silent) questions following the aftermath of the dreaded descent into the void. He still remembers the day they finally returned, of him standing in their bathroom staring at his monstrous reflection, gazing upon his blood soaked face and clothes; wondering how he could have even survived such injury and blood loss.

Soren finds himself waging a war with himself, to finally get his answers or to remain in the dark and live with his suspicions. His hand finally leaves their daughter’s face, to rest his fingertips over the patch that covers his eye. Deep down he knows he wants to find out, no matter what the answer is for it will no doubt continue to bother him. There’s also the feeling that not allowing Mana to speak the reason will no doubt continue to haunt him and Soren doesn’t want to cause him any more distress than the whole topic had no doubt caused him.

Finally he wills himself to speak, even if his words are laced with hesitation. “What…is it? What is that reason?”

PRETTY WORDS FROM A PRETTIER FACE ——— one that would inevitably twist and contort into unimaginable horrors; the likes of which Mana expected far more than the words of encouragement that bobbed about in his thoughts. Words sure to drown, losing all their luster and the momentary warmth they brought.

“You will cast me aside for what I have done to you,” he murmured, shaking his head as guilt continued to rise in the back of his throat. Even when he still cherished his warmth — when he still felt so secure in his arms. He knew it was not deserved. None of it was. "With every step, you will remember who it was that robbed you of the chance to take it as your truest self..."

His hand began to tremble against the girl's face, and even as she subconsciously turned toward it (to try 'biting' at it, it seemed), he could not bear to continue. Instead, she is slowly coaxed toward her father. "...Would you mind holding her for a bit, please? I-I...I can't right now..."

Silence soon followed; lips drawn to a trembling line. Heart ache setting deep into the very marrow of his bones. But he knew the words that needed to be said in the end.

"...That day, within the void...there is a reason behind why you survived your eye injury. ...A reason why you still breathe at all."

[devourersofgods]

Finally got around to cathcing up with Wuwu story, ended up really enjoying the Black Shores chapter. Willll likely pick up Shorekeeper.

[devourersofgods]

Oh, my jade's are so not safe, they are finally here

[devourersofgods]

Scattered  ashes bring a small sigh of relief, glad to see that the other had kept his word regarding that. Though, for how long that would remain was yet to be seen. “I know when I am at a disadvantage, nor do I particularly take any enjoyment in striking those who wish for my head.” 

There’s discomfort in the feeling of being investigated, a hand coming up to tug his hood further down his face, all too aware of what is hidden there. He isn’t sure how long he can hide the secret of his mixed blood for, but it is not something he would allow to come to light easily. He can’t help, however, the curiosity as to what is hidden under the mustari’s mask. Hooded eyes roll in response to just a childish jab and snicker for the complexity of his name only rivals the names of most nobles. "Very well then, Mana.” He commits both of those names to memory as he approaches the hatch of the runner, a metal hand (that to most would appear to be nothing more but an armoured gauntlet) coming to rest upon, lightning charged magla unlocking the mechanism within. 

“What makes you think I’ll tell you how it works?” He shakes his head, a light laugh leaving his lips. He doesn’t trust him enough for that. “Still though, I would like to leave this area for if my trail was discovered by one person, then more may follow.” The hatch opens and he steps inside, revealing a well kept interior and handiwork that shows off a pride in one’s work. He hesitates in the hallway, for it had been years since another soul had stepped foot within, he was no longer used to having the presence of another.

“Perhaps you may wish to look around, though if you do, do not touch anything.” There’s another moment of hesitation. “...Or perhaps watching the gauntlet runner travel from the cockpit would be more to your liking.”

UNFINISHED BUSINESS? SUBTLE THOUGH ITS TILT, HIS HEAD’S GROWN AWFULLY CURIOUS ——— gladdened to hear of his rousing success against the self-made rogue. As a further display of truth to his own word, he let the remaining embers of light sear the wanted poster into nothingness, like ashes scattered to the wind.

“I would ask the same of you, really. The fact that you’ve not yet silenced me speaks far greater than whatever question of trust you propose to me.” ( Betrayal begets death, regardless ——— and he’s sure to learn how this vessel operates in advance, just in case ).

In now being able to see the ishkia up close, he noticed but a subtle difference in height ——— metal helm glinting in the moonlight as he took a moment to look him up and down. Striking, very striking. Far more pleasing to the eye up close than what the posters would have made him—or anyone—believe otherwise. A hidden smile growing the moment his name came into question.

“Mjara Luneva Virastaya, practitioner of both light and shadow — but for simplicity’s sake, might you call me Mana? Wouldn’t want your tongue to get swollen before explaining to me how this whole thing works, you know?” A childish snicker escapes his lips before continuing once more.

“Much and more is to be discussed inside, I’m sure.”

[devourersofgods]

Lips part in surprise with the knowledge on part of what was bothering the other, to learn that this ran far deeper than he had thought to begin with. Perhaps only regaining his voice was the beginning of his whole dilemma, the realization of how much Orpheus’ presence had robbed from him.

He drops his hand from Mana’s face, instead wrapping an arm around his back to gently lean him into him, to offer comfort and warmth with his actions where his words had failed to do so. Eventually he drops his gaze to follow Mana’s, down to their daughter. Such a curious child, one that brought them both joy and he was sure that she would be able to grow to be herself in spite of the obstacles her parents continue to go through.

The memory of an earlier conversation that day flickers into his mind where he himself was on the other side of talking about the self, even if it was under much different circumstances. If it was not too late for him, then it could not be too late for Mana either. “Do you remember what we talked about earlier? You told me that I could still be me, that there was still time. The same applies for you too, you know.”

There’s a part of him that hates Orpheus for everything that he had put Mana through.

“The two of you are separate now, free to live your lives as yourselves. Now, you can rediscover who you truly are without the influence of another, the body is reclaimed now it is time for the rest. Earlier you said that I was reborn this day, then let the same apply for you too. You will find who you are and I’ll be with you every step of the way."

THE WORDS ONLY DO SO MUCH TO REASSURE; AND EVEN THEN, IT WASN’T MUCH ——— he was bound to change course the moment he learned the truth, and Mana knew that; ears wavering, and soon pinning themselves down as he turned his head away with a sigh. Sorrowful———and momentarily aimless———gaze eventually drifting toward his dearest daughter once more.

In her eyes, he could see the stars themselves; her visage precious, devoid of the heaviness that still weighed upon his own. A reverent finger lifts to stroke rosy cheeks, eliciting a curious stare. A soft noise of (perceived) wonderment to distract him from the gloom. It gave him the strength once more to speak.

“…In having been so foolish to believe that Orpheus and I were parts of the same whole… I had ceased to be “Mjara” for far longer than I realized. I spent more time trying to be closer to him———more time becoming him———…and left my own self behind for years. Any discovery I've done of 'myself' was only for his benefit... and my own convenience..."

He'd thought that simply getting his voice back would’ve been enough, but no. Oh, how much deeper it was than just that.

“…Who am I, if naught but a soul who cannot even feel whole once the body is fully returned to me? What right do I have to tell my child to be herself, if I could not do the same?”

[devourersofgods]

How his heart sank more upon seeing that conflicted expression on the other viera’s face now that the smile hiding it had faded. Concern gnawed at him even more, to see something sink its claws into Mana the way that it had. 

His ears tilted forward and twitched, picking up the words despite the hushed whisper, a frown now crossing his face as he tried to process the words that were haunting his love. "A…liar?” He asks with a tilt of his head as he then lets silence linger in the air, many more questions on the tip of his tongue. 

Hating him had never once crossed Soren’s mind. He’s been upset and angry before, but never once has he thought of hating him. Everything that they have been through has been a test of their relationship, their bond, one that has stood strong in spite of everything and Soren does not see that bond weakening.

Finally he allows himself to speak once more. “Whatever it is, I’ll never hate you for it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that we will get through anything together, yes? Those voices are the true liars and we can get through this as well, you know you’ll always have me.” There’s a pause in which he considers the options, of which lie to drown out first. His concern will always be with Mana foremost, so the choice seems obvious to him. 

“How are those voices telling you that you are lying to yourself?”

FOR ALL THE GUILT HELD CLOSE TO HIS HEART, NOT EVEN HIS (TRAITOROUS) GAZE COULD BRING ITSELF TO TURN AWAY ——— his smile cracked, giving way to a conflicted expression that relished in the other’s touch despite the pain that came in accepting it.

So undeserving was he of even that much, knowing of the horrid truth that he had yet to know. It gnawed at him with every passing moment that they spent together with Rael in ‘bliss’ ——— and no longer could he bring himself to hide such a thing for the rest of their lives. …And even then, that still wasn’t all of it…!

He lowered his eyes again; thoughts stirring, ebbing and flowing. Crashing and whirling. There was so much to say, with what felt like so little time. The viera’s voice was quiet, too afraid of his reaction. Too afraid that it would cause everything to collapse.

With a heaviness in his weary soul, he dares his mouth to form coherent words.

“…They tell me that I’m a liar, Soren,” he whispered, trying his best to keep his lips from trembling in the midst of speaking. “…A liar to both you and myself. And I so lament the thought of you hating me forever for it. …I-I don’t even know where to truly start.”

( …Which lie did he wish to hear first, perhaps…? )

He wondered if it was best to have the gondola ride end prematurely — for these truths would not keep the boat steady for long.

[devourersofgods]

❛ you gonna be a good boy for me? ❜ | @eternadyne

A familiar pleased shudder runs down his spine in response to those words and the hint of a promise of hearing it more. A quick glance to the clock upon the wall shows him that it was several hours past the point of when he said he would be taking a break with his project, perhaps he had become a bit too engrossed with the mechanical parts on his workbench, ones that by now, were very much forgotten as soon as those words had left Mana’s lips.

Guilt does tug at him even if he is more than familiar with the tone of the other viera. “G-gods, I’m sorry. I did not mean to lose track of time like this.” He turns in his seat to face Mana fully, reaching out to gently pull him into his lap, to hold him close in quiet (further) apology. 

There’s a mix in what he feels, from the guilt of his mishap to the lingering pleasure from such simple words. He can’t get enough of being called that, or any of the other words of praise that may be gifted upon him. The desire to hear such more drives him to further enthusiasm, anything to hear more praise spill from the other’s lips. 

Hands trail the other’s body and he leans in further, pressing his lips upon Mana’s neck, murmuring against the skin there between lingering kisses or gentle nips of teeth. “I will be a good boy for you, what can I do to make it up to you?”

[devourersofgods]

By instinct his body freezes in response to the near miss, and only when his heartbeat settles once again, the pain in his chest reduced to a mere twinge does he sigh in defeat, finding the action to be rather unnecessary for he had already given in. “You made your point, I concede.” Perhaps it was now down to time to see if this stranger was to be his new jailer, someone who would betray him just like he feared, or if there was some truth to those words.

Swiftly, he returns his blade to its sheath before retrieving his sack of supplies, choosing to ignore the threat of a second shot. If those words were true then the other would truly have no reason to strike him dead. If it was a lie then…perhaps death is his only way to obtain freedom. His only regret would be that he was unable to obtain that revenge he so desired.

His hooded form finally makes a move to return to the runner, illuminated by the moon’s glow. Soren tries to not let those words sway him too much, for his true dream feels so unobtainable now. A dream of freedom and exploration, seeing the whole world outside from the birdcage that was his home. That dream ended with betrayal and blood. There’s the slight embers of hope stoked by those words. 

“You can keep that damned light to yourself for I would rather not meet my end here when I have unfinished business. Do you really see a future alongside someone you do not know if you can even trust?” To say that the mustari had made him curious would be an understatement. The whole situation itself seemed rather strange to him. A sigh leaves his lips as he begins his climb to join the other on the gauntlet runner, hoping to at least get a better look at the one who wishes to join him. “If you truly have intentions of working with me then may I at least know your name?”

A BROW QUIRKS UPWARD; HOLLOW EYES GLARING RED ——— once gentle light growing brighter, staff raised toward quiet night sky. With a dancer’s grace, he twirls ‘round on his heels and directs a strong, white-hot beam of light to strike just a hairs-breath away from the addled ishkia’s very being. The warmth of (destructive) holy magicks evidenced by visible tendrils of smoke rising from the singed grass beside him. You’ve been warned, little bird.

Mana’s tone rang soft when he spoke once more, yet bellied a distinct edge that made him all the more disturbing to listen to.

“Do you believe my words honeyed and false? I can assure you that I mean them, whether you repay my offer with acceptance or utter disregard.” ( The hand is prepared to feed you with all the freedom you could ever want ——— but if you wish instead to bite it, then turn to dust. Do not make the same mistake again ). The magus lowered their staff once more, preparing another charge of light beneath the grasp of the weathered bounty. Once more, with feeling.

“I’ll give you another chance to think things through then, Soren. We could realize both of our dreams together, without the need of scurrying about like rats beneath the noses of those so desperate for your capture ——— I do not wish to slay you, but will if I must. May my light serve as testament to that end, should you continue to decline to see our future together through.”

[devourersofgods]

❝ i didn’t realize how late it was. ❞ || @eternadyne

The priestess’ eyes blinked slowly, drawn out of the comfortable silence they had found themselves in following a lengthy discussion, one of hopes and dreams for the future. Even now, there was some disbelief that she, someone who's fate was death, could be shown that she could have a future at all. Oh, what a lovely hope it was.

Now, she could see that the campfire was not the only faint illumination upon the deck of the gauntlet runner, but the beginnings of a sunrise, a signal of the birth of a new day. “O-oh, so it is…” How easy it was to lose track of time in Will’s presence. Never before had she felt so comfortable around someone else who was not her brother. She had never once felt the need to wear the mask around him, or the others. 

It is this comfort and peace that brings a small flush to her face, remembering that handshake he had offered after that grueling trial, even if he did not realize the implications that it held to the mustari tribe.

Now though, a guilt creeps upon her, far too aware of how much of Will’s precious time she had likely eaten up and a worry of how it would impact the day ahead now that he has been deprived of much needed sleep. “I must apologize, I did not mean to keep you up so late.”

[devourersofgods]

No matter how much he tried, he could not pin down the turning point in their trip, on where the other’s mood had dipped. An earlier discussion or second thoughts over the return of his true voice? They had joked around so much after that that the sudden turn had caught him off guard.  Soren had noticed in which the other’s expressions were halfhearted, then there was the matter of only asking for snacks at the food court, which in itself, was a massive indicator that something was off for he was familiar with the void that was Mana’s appetite.

A saddened smile pulled at his lips as another attempt at lightening his mood had not worked where he had hoped it would. There was still no sign of that warm smile that he had come to love so dearly. 

Soren shifts closer to him, to them both. If he could not make him smile, he could at least offer comfort. A hand reaches out to cup the other’s face, thumb gently stroking his cheek. He knew all too well how loud those haunting voices could be, the ones that seep into every cell of your body until you can hear nothing else, until you can longer escape the demons and ghosts that threaten to consume you entirely until there is nothing left but a husk of what you once were. 

There’s a slight suspicion as to what at least some of those voices were, for the shadow that the void has left was not one that could be easily erased. If it even could be at all. “What do those voices tell you?” If they were loud then Soren needed to be louder, to help drown them all out.

“I just wanted to see you smile again.” / SOREN | @devourersofgods

THE BUTTERFLIES IN HIS STOMACH FOUND REASON TO FLUTTER, MUCH LIKE HIS OWN HEART ——— such tender words striking him deeply, for he never imagined things getting to the point where even a smile could at times be hard to come by.

It was far easier to entrench himself in (treacherous) thought, even as the glittering of the riverbed beneath the gondola they rode in was so mesmerizing to gaze upon; to let the unease and the fear and the dread creep into his heart and eat it out from the inside. Damn near believing that the little girl that he adored with all his heart—grinning and flapping her arms excitedly in his embrace—was still better off with a proper ‘Mother’. That his dearest husband deserved a far better…

Oh, this wasn’t how he wished for things to go today — he wished he could enjoy this properly, and that these feelings and more could finally leave him alone. But now he’s gone and bothered him again; gone and made him think that there was something wrong again, and he hated that. He hated that he hadn’t gotten over this yet. That his resolve had cracked to such a degree that the pieces no longer fit.

He tried to muster a decent smile for him—he tried, he really did! Feeling so very sorry that he could not give him anything better. That these ghosts could not lay themselves to rest.

“…I don’t want you to think that I’m not having fun,” he murmured, holding onto Rael tenderly and stroking her dark curls, “I am, I really am —…and I’m sorry if you were thinking otherwise. …The voices are just so… loud.”

[devourersofgods]

Grit teeth begin to grind in response to such (truthful) words, yet another reminder at how flightless he really is, how he will never truly have the freedom that he so craves. 

Soren flinches, eyes wide at having the staff pointed at him, the sight of it alone bringing flickers of a nightmarish past to the forefront of his mind - light, pain, pleading, more agonizing pain - and his hand grasps as his chest a flicker of a phantom pain echoes there. He has had enough first hand experience to know how serious of a threat that magla could be. 

Then there was the matter of the other’s words, of just how curious they made him for it was not often that someone seeked him alive, and those that had inevitably stabbed him in the back, the siren call of such a bounty too much to resist. What would make this any different?

“Do not speak that damned name to me.” Even just the mention of it was enough to make nausea claw at his gut, a painful reminder of the blood he shared with that man, a bond that he would rather see severed.

With a long exhale does he lower his blade to hang by his side once he sees no other way out. Refusal would end in death or being returned. If he did not have unfinished business he would not have given a damn as to what happened to him but he needed to survive, for now. Even more does he feel like the caged bird he was born as, now at the whim of another. Would he ever know what true freedom tasted like again? “You will no doubt betray me in the end, they always do.”

FROM BENEATH THE MASK, A MOCKING SMIRK IS WRIT; THE FAINTEST CHUCKLE ELICITED TO JUXTAPOSE THE OTHER'S FRUSTRATION ——— "I don't think such a noble creed renders you immune from the reality of still having MISSED; a poor shot nevertheless, from a cornered and flightless bird."

The magus flourishes their staff a bit more theatrically than earlier, directing its trinketed tip toward the aforementioned 'bird' in question; bright magla flickering within priceless gems, a whimsical glow to mask frightening power.

"A handful of money alone———no matter how weighted the purse———cannot buy me what you would in life; thus, your death serves more as false pretense behind my chase. You're a popular man, Archambeau, so you'll have to forgive me for wanting you and your beloved vessel all for myself. I need you, in order for my dream to come true."

From these honeyed and sanctified words does venom drip, all the same———refusal, even down to the slightest quirk of his brow in defiance, would not be accepted. Think wisely, if you know what's best for you. The yellowed page depicting the runner is soon brought into view, held above the flickering staff in the hand opposite to it.

"You want to run away, and I wish to fly. Thus, I do not believe us to be quite so different in the grand scheme. Should you allow me passage and act as my worldly chauffeur, I will burn this bounty into ash and forget it ever existed. ...Otherwise, you leave me with the unfortunate decision of accepting its reward."

[devourersofgods]

Shopping Trips and True Selves, Pt.2 @eternadyne

Traversing back to the main street to their destination, Soren couldn’t help but find himself standing closer to Mana, the mirth from earlier still leaving a smile on his face. How glad he is for these lighter moments in their lives, to not have despair fully take over. 

Even still, despite all the time that has passed, he could not help but notice that the sky still held the same illumination, as though basked in eternal light. There’s wonderment in the question as to how such a thing was possible. Soren was, of course, curious as to what powers this city as it did not appear to be ceruleum.

He shakes that thought away, all too aware he was becoming distracted (like normal) and allows his eye to scan the food court before them. From here he could see numerous stalls lining the lively street, each offering something far different than the last, a wide range of smells filling the air. Further did his gaze wander, eyeing up the tables in the center, many of them filled with groups of people, some simply eating, some engrossed in deep conversation. 

“Ah! Looks as though there is a free table over there.” To that, he points out an empty table to the left of them, thankfully nearer to the edge, which would allow plenty of room to place Rael’s stroller. “Any of the stalls grab your attention?”