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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

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JALICEWEEK20 DAY 6

The Way of Things

JaliceWeek20 Day 6: Reincarnation

Notes: I... don’t know. It just sort of happened? This wrote itself. There were a few more lifetimes I thought about including (there was a Jessamine and Alice ‘life’ that I really wanted to include but it’ll be a standalone fic once I’ve done a bunch of research) but I think I’m happy with it?

This was absolutely inspired by a gorgeous Thor fic I read a few years ago based in Norse mythology and the creation of Yggdrasil; if I can find it, I will absolutely link it because it was an incredible piece of writing.

Also go me! I’m kind of getting a hang of writing sex adjacent scenes! I remember not being able to look directly at my cursor when I implied a blow job in Shadow to Light, I’m oddly proud!

Now, just the second part to Against a Wall.

Word Count: 4,322

NSFW - not graphic but yeah.

Soulmates are funny things. They do not start out existence together; they must find each other - it might take one life time, it might take ten. It is important they undergo this struggle; some souls are not meant for regeneration - they shine and burn out within a lifetime or two. But others get stronger, more powerful, during those early searching years.

And one they find one another, they are forever more entangled. The oldest and strongest eventually fuse, unable to be separated in life or death.

Of course, eventually they burn out. But not in a tragic way; more like in a way that is last page of a very good book; the wilting of a final flower in autumn; the way snow melts in early spring, with sense of peace and satisfaction, and utter tranquility. And as they dissolve into starlight and dust, they begin the cycle anew. It is neither good nor bad or anything in between.

It is simply the way of things.

—

When they meet the first time they are vampires in Dacia - the land that will become Romania. It is an era of indulgence for vampires in that region, and if any records had been kept, it would have declared nearly dangerous levels of changes.

She is Alis, a peasant girl changed by a careless vampire who fed and left her in a ditch. She’s a gentle beauty, with long dark hair, sharp and cunning eyes, and even after the change, her skin maintains a slightly golden tint of someone who spent their life in the sun.

He is Jesper, who mentions nothing of where he came from or what he was before he arrived to hover at the fringes of the Romanian court. He has a reputation in the court, with the ladies and the men both, and Alis is entirely aware and slightly amused by that. She catches his eye more than once, but is illusive like a quicksilver, unbent and unbowed.

Until she isn’t.

It’s been a good hunt, blood soaked through their clothes to their skin that they lick off each other in their frenzy, and she learns exactly how he developed such a reputation. He learns exactly what he was looking for as he finds himself skin to skin with the spirited girl that has always seen him coming before he could catch her. But he has her now, and he’s not letting go.

She doesn’t seem to mind. They become a common sight, as a pair, their hands constantly entangled. They are not at court to curry favour or power or anything more than their next meal, but their relationship is magnetic, and more than one jealous or yearning gaze falls upon them as he presses hot kisses to her neck as he ties a choker of sapphires or diamonds around her pale throat.

The Volturi attack a century or so later, and they stand with the Romanians, their leaders and their friends. He remembers thinking they cannot possibly fail; they are the side of the kings, of the angels. He remembers admiring her as they lined up; the way she had pinned her hair with the silver clasp he’d given her, the way her dress fit her and the smirk on her lips that promised something to look forward to in their personal victory celebrations.

They don’t survive. In the chaos of the battle, it is hard to say how they each fell - the Volturi take no prisoners anyway, so a quick death in battle is preferable to an execution. But they fall and they are burnt, and their ashes mingle in the purple-grey smoke that fills the field.

When Lord Aro finds a silver hair clasp discarded on the battlefield, still clinging to a clump of dark hair, he pockets it and later presents it to Sulpicia, polished to shine and on a bed of velvet. It is a curious and beautiful piece, the shape of a raven’s wing, and it quickly joins the Volturi’s treasury without a single thought given to its origins.

—

In whatever counts as the afterlife for souls and spirits, they reunite. It will take more than one life to work out their powers, the boundaries, of this resting place - how to shape it to their preferences, how to give themselves form. For now, it is just a long horizon of contrasting light, and they are little more than sentient energy, mingling and expressing regret and pain at the demise of the other, of relief of being reunited, of contentedness being once again with the other.

Time is not something that exists on this plane, and soon they learn how to change what is around them; a swathe of sandy beach that meets perfectly clear water, expansive grassy plains that fit between quiet, looming forests that are quiet and cool. They are no more fixed than any other aspect of this space, but it remains unexpectedly consistent.

Sometimes, there is a house. It’s immediate form never changes, but the outside facade does, as the lifetimes pass them by. Somethings a log cabin, other times an English cottage, or a farmhouse, or a bamboo hut. It is their every-changing, ever-evolving desires, a nod to their shared past and their hopes for the future. It is their reward, their sanctuary.

They learn how to shape themselves as well. She fluctuates a little more than him, but she is always small, always naturally dark-haired, always cunning but sweet. He is always tall and always blonde and too charming for his own good, and sometimes not he is she, blonde and tall and could charm birds from the trees. It doesn’t matter either way; the small one greets them just the same, with enthusiasm and passion and sweet sadness at their demise but always joy at their return.

And that is where they are together until the next life.

—

The next life is simpler; a part of a nomadic tribe. She is married, in their customs, to him when she is little more than a child and he just barely a man. And despite how they were raised, he is kind and gentle to her and has no interest in her as a wife before she becomes a woman.

It is a hard year, a bad year, as they travel the mountains and ridges, the snow sharp against their faces. Few of the tribe have born children that year, and less still have lived through the winter; when food is so scarce, the dying are calmly let go so that the rest might survive. There is an undercurrent of resentment when he hoists his child-bride onto his back so that she might make the climb; that he, young and strong and likely to live long and hardy, gives his share of food and water to the bony waif he is bound to.

But she lives through that year, and the next. She lives enough years that they are both ready for her to become a wife, and everyone who scorned her frailness, her smallness, the waste of a strong husband on such a girl, is shocked when she conceives and carries his child so easily. First a son, then two daughters, all born close enough together that the old women of the tribe mutter.

The tribe becomes stronger, settles in one place for longer and longer periods of time - where food and water are plentiful and they are safe from predators and other threats.

She dies during her fourth pregnancy, slipping away in an ocean of blood no one could have prevented. Her eyes are wild and frightened, and he promises that he’ll watch over their children and see them safe, and weeps openly over her body and that of his second son.

He dies after his second daughter is married to a neighbouring tribe, to a boy who looks at her like she is a miracle, and he knows his job is done. The death is quiet, in the still of the night, in the shelter that he once shared with her. As he passes from the world, he remembers the nights when it was him and her amongst the furs, and then their children pressed between them, and then the firm bulge of the child who would ultimately kill her. He holds no resentment for the cause of her death, just a faint and worn sadness, and as he drifts away, he is certain he can hear her laughing.

—

He is a soldier, to protect his family, for a cause he finds entirely repulsive. But he mouths the words and holds the gun, and does not recognise her when he is ordered to shoot. Why would he? They’ve never met. She dies in the mud, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because they end up naming him a traitor and he dies in prison heavy with regrets.

In their sanctuary, they reunite in silence, with sad eyes and gentle embraces. Whatever powers above govern creation, they still send the souls and soulmates to earth, to be swallowed up and spat back out by human machinations, human fears and flaws and greed.

It is simply the way of things.

—

She is a barefoot thief in the streets of Paris, dangerously fast, and subtle of hand. She tells no one her story, or at least, no one her truth. Ragged and smirking, people mistake her for a child, and so there is little trouble to be had - if she’s caught at all.

She runs into him, lounging in an alleyway, tricking lords and ladies out of coins wiht sleight of hand, and is delighted with their potential. She’s old enough to be charmed by sharp green eyes and a lazy grin, and young enough to contemplate the sheer levels of chaos they can cause.

They live like kings those next few years, pinching pearls and purses, watches and rubies, and living in an icy dormer room wearing stolen rings to convince others of things they’ll get around to eventually. It’s really not much - a narrow bed with wafer thin blankets and a shared pillow; water that runs cold and brown into a bucket; pigeons that nest in the rafters and shit all over their clothing.

Doesn’t seem to matter, though, when she welcomes his kiss and sleepily encourages him when he rolls on top of her during the late night hours, frost forming on the weave and weft of their clothes. When their work is good, he brings her flowers from the seller on the corner, and she tucks her pockets full of cakes for them to share, and really, neither could imagine a finer life than together in their little tower.

But time marches on, and soon they recognise that the tricks that have gotten them this far in life aren’t going to be overlooked forever. There are less nobles on the street, less coin and jewellery to be fleeced, and so they decide to leave for the country - he’s not afraid of dirty work, and she’s not afraid of anything.

The journey will be long, and she steals a book for him on their way - he’s determined to teach her to read. It’s a neat little Bible with a smart green cover with the name ‘C-a-r-l-i-s-l-e C-u-l-l-e-n’ written in neat script on the front page.

They settle in a village, where she becomes a laundress, then a seamstress, and he finds work with horses. They marry in the village parish, where the kind priest is happy to absolve them of the sin of living as man and wife before their vows, and keep their secret. They exchange stolen rings for ones of brass, from a jar the priest keeps for that purpose.

There’s a tiny two-room cottage they occupy; those early years of hunger and neglect have left their mark on them both, and so there are no children in this life. But there is an endless parade of animals that he brings home tucked under his jacket; wounded or lost or discarded, and she finds that she doesn’t so much mind waking up to a blind duck on their bed or a sickly fox on the pillow next to her, when he is always so pleased with their progress, with their improving health. He saves more than he loses, and he takes pride in that. Some are set free and returned to the wild, but others linger until they are something of a spectacle in town - the house with all the animals.

They live a long life, a good one, and it ends peacefully. They are buried side by side in the village cemetery, with wooden crosses that bare their names, and prayers muttered in their honour.

But one Carlisle Cullen never gets his Bible back.

—

The good lives give them less time together in the in-between, if such a thing could be accurately measured. They wade, knee-deep into that perfect ocean that stretches out to their infinite horizon, hand-in-hand, and then they both feel it; that fizzing, tingling feeling as whatever oversees them pulls them back; back into bodies and minds, back into lives and places, and they once again have to go through the push and pull of finding the other and crossing their fingers it’ll happen sooner rather than later.

As he becomes nothing again, he holds her smile tight in his mind with a prayer that this will be the time, this will be the life, that he’ll recognise her for who she is to him as soon as he sees her.

She hopes its a long life, a good one, with his hand in hers always.

—

He’s reborn in Texas in 1863 and dies nineteen years later, only to rise again.

She’s born in Mississippi in 1901 and dies nineteen years later, only to rise again.

They meet in 1948, and if he knew any better, he’d tease her about keeping him waiting for thirty-seven years, six months, and three weeks. But it will be a while more before they both remember things like that, so he can’t. Instead, he falls completely and utterly in love with her, in a way that echoes right back through to that very first meeting in Dacia.

He wonders if its possible to miss someone he’d never met before, when he takes her hand. She wonders if he’s going to disappear, to startle and panic about the future that lies before them and leave her behind.

He kisses her like a starving man, and she almost immediately drags him - a willing supplicant - into her bed because it doesn’t matter what life they’re living, she’s never been particularly subtle. He knows exactly what to do to make her scream indecently, and she puts her mouth to every single one of his scars, and he wishes he could weep - with relief and guilt and a million other things that are knotted up inside his head.

And she will untangle each and every single one with enough time.

They unknowingly draw from each of the lives that have come before - they are nomadic for more than two years, criss-crossing across the country. He is no less fixated on animals - as a human, it was the training of them; as a vampire, they are his salvation. Their hands are always entangled, their gazes always on the other.

This time, they find a family, and some quiet, subconscious little corner of her mind decides she likes that they aren’t alone this time. There’s a small joy in the memory of a ‘family’, and a warm feeling - one that she doesn’t know originated from a long-ago life where they were the ones welcoming new children into their heart and home, one she doesn’t quite recognise. But families are shaped so many different ways, and the Cullens are just another way to fit together, and so they stay.

It’s a good life, an untroubled life - at least until Edward gets tangled up with a human girl and the cursed Volturi. Somewhere, the great puppet master jerks the strings and decides that if history is so desperate to repeat itself, well, it might as well put on a show.

They escape the Volturi once (a flight to Italy to save an idiot brother), and twice (Renesmee shall live, Joham shall die, and Aro leaves without any new amusements and deeply, infinitely disappointed in his beloved Carlisle).

Third time’s a charm.

—

Aro’s great error shall go down in history as underestimating the damage he has done assembling his collection, the rage and resentment that boils like an undercurrent in the vampire world. He is not a beloved leader, but a feared one.

In truth, which will be lost to both time and the fact that the powers above don’t keep written or oral histories as humans comprehend them, his undoing is two things: the fact that in all things there must be balance.

And an ancient silver hair clasp shaped like a raven’s wing, that his Sulpicia wears in her hair as they arrive at the battlefield, cloaked and over-confident.

The battle is ugly and fatal and messy and all those things wars usually are, and there is no certainty in their victory, not with the wolves involved, with the shifters and the cryptids that have crawled out of every shadow and space to be done with Aro and Caius forever.

(Stefan and Vladimir are naive if they think they will fill the vacuum left behind in Aro’s wake; Jasper takes them both out quietly on the battlefield, when neither of them can call out the betrayal or identify their killer. Sometimes ugly things need to be done, and he’s not above getting his hands dirty.)

The battleground is smokey and even her supernatural eyes struggle to see through the gloam; her dead heart heavy as she looks for him. Voices call for help; for missing limbs, for injuries, for protection and she ignores each and every one.

She doesn’t know why she stops at the sight of a silver hair clasp, ancient and lost in the mud. Or why she reaches for her own hair, cut short.

Or why she picks it up and unlocks something inside her own mind. It is not an explosion of information, a supernova of memory. It is simply an intense awareness of who she is and who she was and who she will be. It is a confidence in her stride as she moves through the battlefield with a sense of self she has not known since before her home was known as ‘Romania’.

Jasper is bent and twisted, Rosalie limp on the ground, and those vicious, hideous twins hold them captive, like fish twitching on the line. Their deaths are not imminent, because who could take down the little vipers and stop their little game?

Jane’s head is off her body, and Alec’s too, before Jasper has shaken off the pain, expecting Peter or Maria or Emmett to have gotten a lucky shot and dismembered Aro’s little favourites.

Instead, it is his mud-streaked wife with a strange look in her eyes and emotions skittering over her skin like static. A battlefield is no place for a lover’s reunion, but she still bestows a kiss on his kneeling form (so ready for his own execution) that is so positively lascivious that it takes him a minute to remember himself.

And then he remembers himself.

The scales have been rebalanced, and the fight is won by a toss of a coin that finds Aro, Caius, and Marcus on their knees in the mud, waiting for their own trial. The oldest of the gathered line up - Carlisle, Amun, Maria, the Chinese coven - to pass their judgement, but the memories that press on both of them demand their pound of flesh, and Edward eyes them both uneasily.

Instead of violence, of sliding down a slope that turns them back into the monsters of old, into the truest of nightmares, Alice crouches in front of Aro with her wide dark gold eyes, and pulls the hair clasp from her pocket.

Aro’s rage is cold, at the few strands of Sulpicia’s hair that are still trapped in the metal, and if he could, he’d shred her to pieces in that moment, gift be damn. But she smiles sweetly, and strokes the etched feathers.

“Did you know?” she asks quietly, only loud enough for the fallen Volturi kings to hear, and Edward who hovers in case this spirals into a cataclysm, “When he gave me this, I mean?”

Aro stares at her, straining to touch her and understand, but his guard holds him tight and all he can do is sneer at her.

“The night before you brought your army,” Alice plucks the strawberry-blonde hairs from the fixture and tosses them into the mud. “He pinned this in my hair and we danced; we thought we’d win. And I suppose we did.”

Aro gapes at her, Caius is spitting curses, and Marcus is just pleading for his peaceful death - and how many lifetimes has he lived without Didyme, has he wanted to return to that in-between space?

She sees the scar on Esme’s face and finds it hard to care.

Edward is backing away in horror from whatever he sees in her mind, and Jasper is helping her stand, returning to their place amongst the very confused witnesses - what could the diminutive vampire say to the Lords of Volterra that would inspire such a response. The three are summarily executed without ceremony, and they are scattered over the fire without reverence.

Alice tosses the hair clasp in, too. It is better to be burnt to nothing, to be forgotten and buried by dirt and ash. It is too close to becoming a cursed object, one that will follow them, if they place too much belief and trust and hope into it. It has witnessed two downfalls, and it will never witness another.

He holds her tight in the aftermath, as they count their dead and make their plans. Edward is already whispering warnings into Carlisle’s ear, of the shape their thoughts and memories take. But they are family, and that comes before everything else.

(It’s not exactly their fault that Edward is a shiny new soul, and it’s going to take him a few lifetimes to understand what he’s seeing and hearing. Harder especially for him, with his gift so strong so early in the cycle. But everything happens for a reason.)

Despite the curiosity wafting off everyone, they say nothing and they go… well, not home, but to the closest residence, the headquarters of this war. A sprawling property with enough beds for the wounded, the wolves, and the lovers.

That’s where she makes good on her unspoken promises from eons again, of their private victory celebration. She sits astride him, her hips rolling hard against his, drawing out his groans and growls as he grips her thighs almost tight enough to crack. Their gazes are locked the entire time, her tongue skimming over her lips, as she lets her emotions tell him everything that she wants and everything she plans to take.

He remembers fucking her in the dirt in Dacia; his mouth between her legs as she hollered obscenities in a Paris attic; and the urgent, passionate loving-making of a marriage finally consummated.

She remembers bloody emeralds looped around her throat and resting between her breasts as she gets down on her knees and takes him into her mouth, his fingers tangled in her hair; the delicious weight of him on top of her, their sweat mingling and cooling in the frozen night as their flimsy bed creaked against the wall; and his soft encouragement in her ear as he grasps her around the waist, their hands resting together on the gentle swell of her stomach.

It is times like this that their talents are burdens and gifts both because it is so much, so very much, and in all that passion and true love, there is also loss and regret.

But they have each other, and they will weather this new storm together.

—

They are hardly the only couple to spend the night tumbling together, but they must be the loudest, because when they reappear the next morning with darkened eyes and clean clothes, Jacob and Emmett are looking at Jasper with a new and very specific kind of respect, and if she flips both of them off behind Esme’s back, no one has any proof.

They don’t talk about what they’ve learnt, because it probably wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else. It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t matter, until the mantle of it settles upon you. And then it is everything.

Instead, they hunt. They have won the battle, won the war, and whilst rebuilding will take time, they can take this small moment to feast with their family and relish freedom from fear.

She truly doesn’t know what comes next. He truly doesn’t know if it will be good or bad. They will live this life for as long as it lasts, long may it last, surrounded by the people they love and trust.

And then they will die.

And then they will live again. Maybe they will live another ten lives, maybe another one hundred. Maybe one day they will cross paths with their family again, or they will choose to have children again. Maybe they will be long lives full of joy and laughter, maybe they will burn out fast and hard, but full of feeling.

But the thing they are now both and utterly certain of, above all else, is that they will walk each step hand-in-hand.

It is simply the way of things.

#jaliceweek20 #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight renaissance #twilight fic #jalice #jalice fic #my fic: the way of things

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sublimegentlemanalpaca · 5 years

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A Current list of Eldritchicians those developed and under developed.

I will list the Currently thought up Eldritchicians. This might be repetitive but ah well. Will have their name, what Eldritch topics they’re familiar with, any particular interesting bits about them like if they’re part of a Splinter group or what have you. Hope you find this interesting, and if you have any questions be they important or otherwise...please ask away! Please? Alyss Violet Eldridge: First Eldritchician. The Arch Overseer, Founder and leader of the FoE. Adopted daughter of Alvis Vadim Eldritch. Raised by Alvis and the rest of his Fellows. Has learned a little of everything from the each Eldritch Fellow (even Alastor) Skilled in the Rapier, Carnwennanian Dagger, excellent persuader and diplomat (when necessary). Always has a book on her person. Has an Awoken Shadow. Is Dark skinned with unnaturally white hair. Wears three Rings. Her Overseer and Arch Overseer Rings on her left (An Iron Ring set with Amethyst and a Silver Ring set with Lapis Lazuli), and a Ring gifted to her by the Eldritch Fellows which is visibly made of Orichalcum with a brilliant blood red stone of some sort (a very philosophical sort). Immediate superior to all Eldritchicians. Will occasionally not wear her Overseer Rings and go about business as a simple Eldritchician, usually teaming up with Tomomi and Charles Williams. Overseer Secundus Sinbad Al-Amin. A Cartographer and Blacksmith from Damascus. Knows how to make Damascus Steel. Has learned from Alvis(Wisdom) Albus(Ghosts and Sea Creatures) , Algimantas (Items and Objects and Allan (Demons and things considered Demons and such). Vice Chancellor of the Academy for Eldritchicians. An avid Cartographer of Strange and unusual Locales. A friend to Alvis. Wears two rings. One is his Overseer Ring, the other is a Agate Ring which to my knowledge is a custom of Muslim men. If this is incorrect, please correct me. Overseer Morgan Maddox. A Scottish (or Welsh? I’m not sure yet) Warrior. Friend of Alyss. Heads the Saint Alyss Academy for Eldritchicians. Skilled in Spear, and Carnwennanian Dagger. The Overseer who ...oversees the paperwork for the occasional necessary extermination and such? Monster hunting and the like. Learned under the Legendary Scàthach before meeting Alyss and the Eldritch Fellows. As an Eldritchician Studied under Alvis, Algimantas, Albus, and Alaire. Her Spear is made by Albus from The bone of a Sea Monster, Silver, Cold Iron, Meteoric Iron, And Orichalcum. Has a Prosthetic Arm of Magic Silver made by Algimantas. Wears her Overseer Ring on her left hand. Overseer Runa. A Norse Elf who along with her sister Huld followed Alvis around for a month or two certain that he was Odin. When the two realized Alvis was in fact not Odin they stuck around all the same. Runa joined the founding Eldritchicians while Huld helps in managing the Archives alongside Sophocles. Runa is basically the Bard (or Skald I suppose) of the Overseers. Has studied under Alvis, Algimantas, Albus, Alaire (for storytelling). Wears her Overseer Ring on his left hand. Overseer Cosmin The Solomonar: as the Title suggests, Cosmin is a (former?) Solomonar. A Wizard (?) From Romanian Folklore (Mythology?). Controls the Weather and rides a Dragon. Runs the Grey School, modeled after his own Education as a Solomonar at the Scholomance. Already knew a whole lot but has studied with Alvis, Algimantas, Albus, Alaire, and studied with Algernon even. Wears his Overseer Ring Overseer Archimedes: A Mothman. Tall black winged thing . Best friend to Alaire. In charge of the Fellows In Grey, a Splinter group in the Fellowship that deals with Cryptids, Aliens, and so on. Does not wear his Overseer Ring nor any of his pins. He leaves all the stuff which denotes him as an Eldritchician with Alaire. Alaire being the only Eldritch Fellow to actually kinda sorta join the FoE. Sophocles of Alexandria: Head Archivist for the Fellowship. He is not really an Overseer....he is imprisoned in the Archives for having tried stealing a book from Alvis...this did not end well for Sophocles place of Employment, The Library of Alexandria (books were sparred, rest was destroyed). Can not leave the Archives. Medusa: Former Priestess of Athena, Gorgon. Studied Alvis’ Wisdom, Algimantas’ stuff (who she hates), Alpheas, and with Albus. In a Trio with Ismene and Prioska. Studied shapeshifters and transformation with Alphaes (spelling?). In a relationship with Ismene. Her serpent locks are Golden. Ismene: Former Priestess of Athena. Also a Former Statue. Still has some Statue characteristics. Studied with Alvis, Algimantas, and Albus. In a relationship with Medusa. Prioska Lakatos: A Vampire from Hungary. Skilled in Clockwork. Has a Coat she stole from Albus. Calls Albus Alucard. Studied under Albus, Alvis, Algimantas, and Alaire. On a Trio with Ismene and Medusa. Also a part of Alyss’ Intelligentsia (keeping track of other secret Societies and Spy things). Loves teasing Quincey. Quincey Johnathan Jack Harker: Eldest son of Johnathan and Mina Harker. Vampire Hunter. Studied with Albus (Ghosts and stuff), Algimantas, Alvis. Duel wields Bowie Knives (one belonging to his Namesake, the other made of Adamant by Albus). Is Bi...not always the brightest...Can see Ghosts. On a Trio with Horatio and Runa. Might be in a relationship with Huld? Lucius Abraham Arthur Harker: Second Harker Son and Younger brother to Quincey. Is not an Eldritchician. He is a ghost though and is haunting his Brother (‘To keep an eye on my dummy of a Brother so he doesn’t get himself killed). Will regularly set up Hauntings so as to set up his brother with Eligible Bachelors and Bachelorettes and so on. Huld: Norse elf who followed Alvis for months thinking he was Odin with her sister Runa. Might be in a relationship with Quincey? Learned from Alaire, Albus, Algimantus, as well Alewar (Eldritch Horrors In a Extra Planetary Or Lovecraftian sense), and Alwin (Fae and Elves). In a relationship with Quincey? Leader of her Trio? Horatio aka ‘Doctor Faustus’: A Danish Man recognized for dressing in all black. Wields a Rapier. Known as Doctor Faustus since he’s studied Demons with Allan and he studied at Wittenberg. Studied with Alaire and has an Awoken Shadow. It is named but he always says it so quietly, only Horatio and Alaire know the name. Quincey has been able to catch that the name of Horatio’s Shadow starts with an H...followed by an A. Horatio has put all his Eldritch studies into Shadows, Demons and Ghosts. It is rumored he gave his Soul over to Allan V Eldritch. Wields a Carnwennanian Dagger Or a Bespoked Bodkin. Leaving his own Shadow...Lighter for lack of a better phrase . In a Trio with Quincey and Huld. Aeschylus Adams: A Werewolf Ranger, and one of Alyss’ Intelligentsia. Think of a mix of Aragorn and Halt O’Carrick. Excellent Thief and Pick pocket. Studied with Alaire (Cryptids, Shadows, and Folklore), Albus, and Algimantas. Studied Druid craft and stuff with Alfr. In a Trio with Midas Little and Murdann. Dr. Mercury Little: one of Four Little Brothers (three of whom are a part of the FoE), differentiated From his brothers by his Seemingly unnatural Silver hair. Studied Angels and Alchemy with Aldread, Albus, Alvis, and Alaire. Murdann Eldritch: A Finwife From Orkney. First Wife of Albus Viggo Eldritch. Joined after having been with Albus for some years. Knows what Albus has to teach, learned from Alvis, and Alfr. An exceptional Healer. Regularly has Weaving Contests with Ismene and Medusa. In a Trio with Dr Little and Aeschylus. Open relationship with Albus. Dr. Hermes Little: Same as Doctor Mercury Little. Only he has white Hair. Eldest of the Little ‘Brothers’. Studied all the same stuff. In a Trio with Charles Williams and Clarissa Williams. Charles Williams: Once an Editor now an Eldritchician. Tried repeatedly to join the FoE and finally managed it after trying forever. Studied Alchemy and Angels with Aldread, Magical Items with Algimantas (specifically Relics), Ghosts with Albus, and a bunch of others (Alvis, Alwin, and Algernon). The Left hand of the Arch Overseer. Go to diplomat between other Secret Societies. One of Alyss’ Intelligentsia( occasionally answers to the Codename Walsingham). Also, I should mention he’s an ESPer....Telepathy, Telekinesis, and Pyrokinesis for fun ;) . Clarissa Williams: Alternate Charles Williams. ESPER, Can see Ghosts Naturally. Intelligentsia member (Code Name Francis). Dr. Midas Little: same as the other Doctor Littles except that his hair is Golden. In a Trio with Tomomi and Dr. Leeds. Tomomi.: a Kitsune, friend to Alyss since she (Alyss) was young. Expert on Yokai and things. Studied with Alaire, Alvis, Albus, Algimantus and Alpheas (because shapeshifting). Just decided to be the guardian of Alvis’ Bookshop when they were in Japan one time. In a Trio with Dr. Midas Little and Dr. Leeds. when not going on solo missions for Alyss. A part of Alyss’ Intelligentsia (Code Name Dee, because she wasn’t fond of Kit Marlowe as a Codename). Doctor Mary Leeds: 12th Child of the Leeds family and the immediate Elder sibling and Caretaker to John Daniel Leeds...aka...the Jersey Devil. A Medicinal Doctor. Studied with Albus, Alvis, Algimantas, and Alaire. Stood up for her baby Brother when he killed one of the Night Crawlers working for Archimedes. She keeps track of Her Brother to make sure he doesn’t cause trouble (otherwise Archimedes and Alaire will need to deal with him). Learned medicine from the Black Doctor Ghost. One of the Fellows In Grey. Developed the spray they use to wipe memories and things. Mr Erland Ranswell: A Grey Alien in a Grey Suit. One of Archimedes’ Fellows In Grey. A Linguist and Cartographer. Has endeavored to learn the Whooping language of the Fresno Nightcrawlers Employed by Archimedes and Alaire. In a Trio ‘officially’ but not really with Dr. Livesey and Dr. Mercury Little. Dr. Yorick Roger Livesey: Once a Ship’s Surgeon now an animate Skeleton (rather than a Ghost like most who stay at Albus’ Lighthouses). Dressed in Piratey clothes and wears one of Albus’ old Coats when not doing Surgery or what have you. Has studied with Albus, Alaire, and Alvis. As well as Algernon. Can not speak and communicates In two ways. Either sign language or a horrible creaking noise that has an echo of bone saws. The first is interpreted by a Talking Raven Named Apollo Teach, the second by a Talking Snake Named Asclepius Hands. Asclepius’ Voice is supposed to serve as an auditory Balm after hearing Yorick Speak. Dr. Livesey gets along with Murdann and Prioska. He works closely with Albus ( being his First mate in a way?). Teaches medicine at Sinbad’s College for Eldritchicians. When out and about he will wear gloves and a mask to hide the whole...being a Skeleton thing. Dr. Mercury Little: Same as the other Little’s his hair is Silver and he looks younger than Hermes Little. Miss Calista Flatwood: Archimedes Second in command for running the Fellows In Grey. Is the Flatwoods Monster.... Mister Ray Green: A little green Alien. Astro Cartographer. Teleportation technology? I don’t know. Just thought to have a little green man. One of the Fellows In Grey. Let’s see am I forgetting anyone...ah right. Rosemary: A Fairy, once Royal Retainer to King Alberich (who is now Alwin) V Eldritch. Corrupter of Words. A Member of Alyss’ Intelligentsia, Rosemary keeps his eye on the the goings ons of The Fae Courts since his Master has had to abdicate. Is ultimately Loyal to Alwin, but works for Alyss under Alwin’s orders. The expert on Fae among the Eldritchicians. The Nightcrawler Corp: A bunch of Fresno Nightcrawlers that act as Scouts and Recon and things. They are Archimedes’ Eyes and ears for all the goings ons of Cryptids and whatever else they’re asked to look into. They answer to Archimedes only or those who relay things from Archimedes. They communicate in a series of Whoops and Kicking. Only Archimedes and Alaire are fluent in their language. The Hide Behind Network/ Erebus Hyde: A Hide Behind was stalking Alaire once...only to get caught by Aldjoy (Alaire’s living Shadow). Alaire befriended the Creature, and gave it the Name Erebus Hyde. The Hide Behind Network is all Hide Behinds being in a sort of Hive Mind (A Hide Mind?) they are many....They are not Shadows as Alaire originally thought. But they are something...something Old...perhaps only younger then the Eldritch Fellows themselves. Certain Eldritchicians (Dr. Leeds, Horatio, Overseer Morgan and others) know when a Hidebehind is behind them, and they will be sure to make people who they’re giving messages to know they’re there. They all answer to the name Erebus Hyde...all address Alaire as Friend, (and Address all the other Fellows by that title)...others they’ll address by their relation to Alaire. Okay..I think that’s everyone! And in Trios to! Be sure to ask any questions about any of these Fellows you might have. Stuff subject to change. Make of this what you will. Al, the Chronographing Cottager and Prince of Naming

#FoE #The FoE #OCs #My OCs #Eldritchicians #the Fellowship of Eldritchicians #Make of this what you will #My Writing

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tearlessrain · 6 years

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time to subject myself to Dracula: The Dark Prince, aka another bad movie starring another dude from black sails. this time with 100% less horny on main because my only real motivation for watching it is it truly looks to be a whole new caliber of horrible and I have to see it.

witness my standards for incomprehensibly bad movies being raised prohibitively high in every way imaginable under the cut

I seriously doubt that.

this was made in 2013 by the way, not 1994 as the graphic design of that logo might suggest

oh good, once again we’re opening with an exposition narrator. except this time it’s a woman and she has less vocal inflection and emotional investment than an amazon echo.

I feel like she’s gonna tell me to turn left in 800ft

it feels like a dragon age epilogue, but just. worse.

WE ARE WATCHING A TRULY HIGH QUALITY MOVIE TONIGHT MY FRIENDS

I can’t even describe how bad this is, you really need the sound. that’s where the true lack of quality shines through. siri’s depressed sister is talking about pre-vampire dracula’s epic feats in battle to more weird sepia dioramas and the dying soldiers sound like they hired muppets to voice them

HOLY WIG BATMAN

also this dude is obnoxiously jovial considering he’s supposed to be dracula, even if this is pre-vampire

oh no dracula’s advisors, who all wear black hooded robes and scowl ominously, have betrayed him and killed his wife, how unexpected

someone drew these, looked at them, and thought “yeah that’s good enough to go in the final movie”

the characters are speaking both english and what I assume is... romanian or something? transylvanian? it’s not spanish or welsh I can tell you that much. anyway there are no subtitles and also no rhyme or reason to which they’re speaking at any given time so I hope I’m not missing anything important. probably not.

so like... they killed his wife, yes. and he went on a murderfest in what appears to be a church in revenge, makes sense. now a dude who... I think maybe he’s supposed to be a priest or something? but he wasn’t speaking english so I can’t be sure, then a voice over said “I have killed for god, the hand that fought for him will now be turned against him” but I’m unclear on who was speaking. this movie is an absolute clusterfuck and we aren’t even five minutes in yet. this is still the prologue.

now zombie alexa claims dracula was cursed with immortality “in punishment for his defiance” but I’m still not sure... what defiance. he killed the dudes who murdered his wife and that’s somehow not okay despite his apparent status as a war hero, a designation that implies a LOT of killing has already happened?

fucking finally, the title screen. usually a prologue clarifies what a movie is about but I went in thinking I knew and now have absolutely no idea what I’m watching.

a carriage drawn by friesians is rolling through a misty forest with wolf howling sound bites playing at random in the background to vaguely urgent music, now this is what I’m here to see.

nevermind the carriage is too slow so they’re leaving it because that’s a thing people do (?????)

“Lady Arwen, we cannot delay”

seriously though everyone’s mumbling so much I can’t understand them much better than when they were speaking whatever the other language was

BOOTLEG XENA RIDES AGAIN

but this time she’s accompanied by esme. we don’t know who esme is yet either.

there she goes

and now the knights are being attacked by hilarious squeaky goblin things? who I guess are led by this power rangers villain with, again, an unintentionally hilarious voice. it’s like a bad batman impression.

with every minute that passes I become less certain of what I’m actually watching.

they’re looking for the “light bringer” and telepathically overseen by the world’s most halfassed lestat dracula

they’ve also got some random prisoners in a cage wagon

okay the prisoners are being taken to dracula’s castle and I’m sorry for such an image-heavy post but I NEED you to understand the community theater level of set design/quality we’re dealing with here

“what is that?” cardboard and mod podge is my guess

so far the only thing esme has done is fall off her horse and be knocked unconscious, and now a Roving Band of Misogynists has appeared to harass Bootleg Xena 3.0 in the most generic way possible (the words “what ‘ave we got ‘ere” accompanied by a chorus of malicious cackling and some whistles have been spoken)

oooh no the ringleader of the Roving Misogynists has been given a name, and it’s ~Lucien~. I have a horrible feeling that I’m about to bear witness to the worst romantic subplot in the history of cinema.

oh for... I thought at least bootleg xena 3.0 would be a Strong Female Character and fight them off, but she just rapped lucien on the head with her sword and then they stole her very important box and left as obnoxiously as they came

OH NO SHE’S ASKING TO GO WITH THEM, SOMEHOW THAT’S HER PLAN I THINK I’M RIGHT SHE’S GONNA HOOK UP WITH LUCIEN AND IT’S GOING TO BE HORRIBLE.

“trust me” she says to esme, who, wisely, obviously does not.

I appreciate the timely thunderclap every single time the castle comes on screen

who the fuck are you, did you wander onto the wrong movie set

nope okay they’re not gonna explain that shot at all we’re just moving on to a shot of a weird angel shadow doing slow flamenco moves on the ceiling while ominously gurgling, and the prisoners being led into the throne room

“what’s happening to us?” I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE SAME THING, PRISONER #3

oh never mind that guy from before wasn’t a priest, he is remfield, chancellor of this kingdom, which means the last scene he was in makes even less sense

AKSLDGHJFGAKDLFJGHKAJGHFDKLFDS;GJokay so. remfield introduced himself then said “I will see that your needs are tended to.” then dracula in his new white contacts gets up from his shadowy throne, circumnavigates the cluster of prisoners, sniffs them dramatically, and walks back to his throne. remfield then says, “come, I will see that your needs are tended to” because proofreading is for COWARDS

now remfield is... literally giving the prisoners a tour of the castle and going on the “oh you’re our guests and many pleasures and adventures await you” speech and somehow the prisoners are accepting this despite the fact that they were just carted in on a barred wagon in shackles and got sniffed by a bad alucard cosplayer. they have a fucking harpist.

seriously, who the fuck are you

she’s just been twirling around in the background of this entire scene for no discernible reason no matter what rooms they go into

what the hell am I watching

yeah they’re just going for that incredibly suspicious food and also seem weirdly okay with the ambient clusters of scantily clad lesbians no one will explain okay they deserve whatever happens to them

WHOA TITS apparently this movie is a different rating than I thought

remfield: the newcomers have settled in

dracula: I d o n ‘ t l i k e s t r a n g e r s

then why pray tell have you brought them directly into your home in chains. I cannot stress enough how avoidable this situation was for you my dude

“just think sire, once the light bringer is in your possession no one need die again” “except those who defy me” [ominous chime as the angel shadow on the ceiling continues its sensuous flamenco dance]

meanwhile in the misty blue filter forest of eternal night, some guy in a tricorn finds a gold amulet that I think bootleg xena 3.0 dropped, and the power ranger villain rides menacingly in a random direction for a few seconds

I’m still waiting on whether this masterful display of cinematic calvinball has any cohesive story to it.

ah joy and we’re back to The Non-Adventures of Xena 3.0, Esme, and the Roving Misogynists

as an aside, I’m not calling her that just to be dumb, I’m calling her that because they still haven’t given her a name even though her sidekick got one in the first five minutes

they’ve opened the box and revealed... the light bringer, which is a wooden staff. because it is not shiny gold, the roving misogynists regard it with confounded disgrunglement and scoff at xena 3.0′s insistence that it can defeat dracula

these guys sound like what an eleven year old thinks gangs of ne’er-do-wells sound like. like cartoon weasels, if the weasels were also mediocre pirates who have heard of women, conceptually, but never seen one. like goblins in a pre-written D&D campaign run by a slightly overwhelmed first time DM.

HUR DUR WALKING STICK NOT TREASURE, WOMAN DUMB

it’s what cain used to slay abel, apparently. given that zombie alexa mentioned that dracula is the descendent of abel, this leaves us with the terrifying implication that someone did put at least some vestige of effort into writing this movie.

oh good she’s finally gonna fight lucien

no she failed again. please someone just punch the shit out of lucien so he’ll stop.

NO WHY ARE YOU MAKING OUT STOP IT GOD HAVE SOME STANDARDS WOMAN. STOP PLAYING FLOATY ROMANTIC MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND THEY ARE LITERALLY STILL STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ENTIRE BAND OF ROVING MISOGYNISTS

I thought it might at least be a trick but no she is actually, genuinely starstruck over this profoundly mediocre olde-timey frat boy who called her “sweetheart” while she was trying to explain to him why the ancient dracula-defeating relic was important.

this guy.

we did it boys, we found a worse love story than twilight

also I just. I wish I could convey with words the way the roving misogynists react to every single thing lucien and sometimes xena 3.0 says like the world’s worst greek chorus in a literally neverending stream

lucien (post makeout and xena 3.0 explaining again that the relic is ancient and powerful and they’ve searched for ages to find it): well we may not be knights but we can respect that

[cacophony of rowdy but understated agreement]

lucien: what do you think boys, should we give it back?

[assorted grumbles of assent]

xena 3.0: hm, a thief with a conscience

[gruff mercenary-esque chuckling]

lucien: maybe even a heart

[chorus of “ooooooOOOooh”s and some whistles]

it just goes on like that in every scene they happen to be physically adjacent to, they never shut up but also never actually contribute or say anything meaningful

ah, the mysterious leonardo has appeared. I think he was the one they were trying to take the light bringer to so that’s handy

“what is happening here? what is this flirtation?? is this the people to share your sacred secrets with???” - leonardo, the only remotely rational person in the entire movie

oh he is schooling these idiots, finally someone with sense. it’s bouncing right off of lucien, but at least he’s saying it.

“the scourge” - leonardo

“scourge!” “scourge!?” “scourge?” “hrgghhg??” “hrrm...” - the roving misogynists

power ranger villain and his squeaking goblins vs leonardo, the most useless female leads of all time, and the roving misogynists. who will win.

not the people watching this movie, I can tell you that much.

oh no, the lightbringer isn’t working. this will do nothing to convince the roving misogynists that it isn’t a walking stick

oop, wilhelm scream

oh no lucien has picked up the light bringer

goddamn it he’s the chosen one isn’t he

yep he activated the stick and now we all have to suffer

oh xena 3.0′s coming for power ranger villain maybe she’ll actually do something

nope she bounced off him and now he’s grabbed her and hauled her onto his horse

“you’re coming with me” he says in his weird batman voice, to make sure the audience can tell that he is in fact taking her with him

and esme has yelled “no” to make sure we remember that she’s in the movie

wait what the. did lucien just yell “xena” is that her actual name what the fuck. what the fuck. I had to have misheard that. okay I can’t tell what he’s saying for sure but someone’s bound to say her name again at some point in the movie so I’ll revisit that.

and on that note, I think I’ll end here, because there ended up being a LOT more to unpack in this movie than I expected, it’s after midnight, and I’m tired.

tomorrow, we follow lucien as he presumably goes to save some lady he wildly disrespected and then made out with one time whose name may or may not actually be xena, and hopefully figure out what the hell is even going on with dracula, remfield, and their castle full of artfully strewn half naked harpist lesbians and dancing ceiling shadows. because right now I really don’t have time to unpack all that, and I have a feeling it will only get worse.

#this is #a masterpiece #no description of mine can hope to do it justice #hypnotically incomprehensible #tearless liveblogs

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anachroniisms-archived · 6 years

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Hey friends! Rey here. Here’s my newest trashfire.

THE MACHIAVELLIAN -

⋆ ◦ ° ☾ cillian murphy + cismale + he/him — have you seen marius vasile? they sure have been hanging out at the caito mansion a lot recently. they are a forty five year old known as the machiavellian, and they currently work for the savages as a book-keeper, which they’ve been doing for thirty years. a demisexual aries, they are ambitious + cunning, as well as cruel + manipulative. a seat at the head of the table, cigarette smoke clinging to a pressed waistcoat , a ticking clock. × rey. twenty-one+. she/her. pst. ×

TL;DR: A machiavellian who is all about power and legacy. Old money. A true-blue Savage who was once Caito’s second-in-command. Currently the book-keeper for the gang. Resident Dad. Father of two but he disowned his first kid for being too weak (this is an open connect!). His wife died a mysterious death a few years ago because she tried to leave him. Considers every loyal Savage family. Wants to eviscerate the Cobras.

By day, he runs Valdez’s branch of Vasile International Incorporated, a private investment company that supports a good chunk of the entertainment industry in Valdez.

BACKSTORY

1970’s Chicago. Lucian Vasile’s marriage to Aislin O’Malley was one tied to politics and convenience. The Vasiles were a family knee deep in the Romanian mafia while the O’Malley’s had Irish mob blood running through their veins that went all the way back to the Dead Rabbits. The two organizations, both with their eyes on the United States, clashed over the city of Chicago and tumultuous relations found peace after this marriage. Lucian and Aislin were intent on continuing the empires their respective families had left for them and so they found themselves the parents of five children. Their second son was named Marius after Mars, the god of war.

Marius grew up as a child of three worlds. He belonged to Romania, Ireland, and the United States of America. Lucian and Aislin made sure their children understood each slice of their heritage. Summers would be spent in Romania with Lucian’s family. The holidays would be spent in Ireland, surrounded by Aislin’s. Every other night? The children would be acquainting themselves with Chicago’s dark underbelly. Lucian was head of Vasile International Incorporated, a private investment company that supported Chicago’s crime scene and it wasn’t long before the children became acquainted with this cover story too.

When Marius was 10, Lucian received word that the burgeoning entertainment industry in Colorado had caught the Romanian mafia’s attention. After a long discussion, it was decided that Lucian would move out west to the town of Valdez under the pretenses of starting up a branch of Vasile International Incorporated. His oldest and Marius would join him. “Just to see how the sausage was made.” Just for a while.

A while, of course, turned out to be much longer than expected. A while became five years. It was during that time that Marius met the Savages. He was 15 when he joined as a runner and his father merely shrugged. He expected it. It was in his blood.

At the end of those five years though, Lucian and oldests moved back to Chicago. Marius, now fiercely loyal to his new found pride of lions, found flying back to Chicago to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Leaving Valdez and leaving behind the Savages was disorienting. He felt directionless.

He went to college, flew abroad to England, and attended Oxford. He earned a degree in the university’s flagship Philosophy, Politics, and Economics program. And although he would fall in love there, although he would get married to one of his classmates and even start a family, he would not forget the lion brand that sat on his chest right above his heart. After Oxford, Marius didn’t return to Chicago. He went straight for Colorado. He convinced his father to let him run the branch of Vasile International Incorporated in Valdez. When his father agreed, there was no hesitation. Marius and his wife, Aurelia, took their things and their child and moved to Valdez.

By day, Marius ran the branch of his father’s company. By night, he was a Savage. Aurelia, who was of a similar disposition to him, joined too. Like his parents before him, Marius looked to his first born and knew that they would follow in his footsteps.

Marius rose through the ranks. He wanted to know the whole gang inside and out and so he tried his hand at everything. He was a good assassin, a decent thief, and a fucking phenomenal book keeper. As Marius climbed this ladder, he found another that was on a similar ascent. Balthazar Caito. Caito was a compelling leader and when he rose to take the lead, he looked to Marius to be his second. 15 years ago, at 30, Marius stepped into the role of second-in-command for the Savages.

For a while, that was life. He had a second child - a daughter, Cornelia whom he loved very much - and Vasile International Incorporated flourished. Valdez grew and so did the entertainment industry. People came and went, but the Savages stayed.

And then came the fall. It was cataclysmic, proving that all picturesque sunsets turn into dark, foreboding nights. Marius’ oldest child failed their initiation into the Savages. It seemed they were unable to bring themselves to commit the one crime they had to commit - murder. In one fell swoop, Marius’ fantasy of building a legacy with the Savages was shattered. Immediately, he disowned his first born. Kicked them out, made it clear he never wanted to see them again. Made it crystal that the only reason they were allowed to live was because he was making the choice to let them. Marius had always been cruel and manipulative but after this, he somehow managed to grow colder.

His eyes turned to Cornelia and suddenly the pressure was on. Cornelia would not fuck up in the way his first had, he was certain of that. So Marius threw himself into raising Cornelia, training her intensely, and pushing her hard. His wife would watch from the sidelines warily.

One day, Aurelia spoke up. Maybe, Aurelia said, it would be best to keep Cornelia away from the Savages. Aurelia was worried that what happened with their oldest would happen here too. She was hesitant… no, more than that, she was resistant to letting Cornelia join the Savages. It cracked a chasm between her and Marius. The fall out was terrible. When Marius found out that Aurelia planned on leaving with Cornelia, he decided she had to go.

He made it look like a car accident and, to everyone but Balthazar, it was. People offered their condolences, Aurelia’s service came and went. Marius didn’t shed a tear.

Cornelia joined the Savages and Marius turned his attention to the gang.

Power and legacy - these will always be the most important things to Marius. He will always do what is best for the Savages. He sees potential in so many of them; he will always vouch for the ones he believes in and he will weed out the weak. In Romeo Dahl, with his first born dead to him and his second too young, Marius saw something terrifying and great. With the council of Caito and the grace of a true machiavellian, Marius took a bow and stepped into book-keeping. Now, he makes sure that that the party gang continues to keep its finances in tip-top shape. Securing the Savage’s power and eviscerating the Cobras is at the top of his to-do list. He keeps a watchful eye on all of the Savages.

PERSONALITY / OTHER

Marius is a family man. But to him, family means “essential power structure” and not “place of love and security.” He puts lots of stock in power, legacy, loyalty, and blood.

Savages. Are. Family. If you’re a lion, Marius will take a bullet for you. He expects you to do the same for him unflinchingly.

Marius’s family is big. He’s still in touch with the majority of them (read: the ones that have not betrayed him or besmirched the family name.) and there’s a fair amount in Valdez. The 10+ members have dinner every Sunday. If you’re a Savage, you’re invited.

Old friend of Caito and the OG Petrans. Oldschool. Old money. But don’t let that fool you. Surprisingly, he’s a feminist. “there’s no such thing as gender roles there’s only power,” - Marius, probably.

Romanian is his first language. English is his second. He’s got German and French in his arsenal as well

Has great manners and expects them from you. Has threatened to cut out tongues before cause people forgot to say please. Swears only behind closed doors.

These days, he’ll use a gun because it’s cleaner and he’s not a bad shot. But Marius’ real strengths lie in his fists and when he uses a knife.

Just a cruel, manipulative guy? Very unforgiving. If you’re a Savage, don’t let him hear you’ve been hanging out with Cobras…

A Shakespearean character. The love-child of Claudius and Iago...

A force to be reckoned with

A brief timeline overview in numbers: has two kids (between the ages of 23 and 25), his wife “died” 8 years ago, he’s been with the gang since he was 15

WANTED CONNECTIONS

A Fate Worse Than Death - His oldest child. Male, female, non-binary! Doesn’t matter. This is the kid that failed him. As mentioned in the bio, they failed the Savages initiation (which is murdering someone.) They were promptly disowned. They are dead to Marius. But Valdez is a small town and they’re bound to run into each other at some point… Would love for their first name to be similar sounding to the name “Lucian” because that was Marius’ father’s name, but that’s just flavoring and doesn’t have to be followed at all! They do have to be 24 or 25 years old to work with the timeline. ( open. This will be a wanted connection on the main.)

Blood of the Covenant - “Blood of the Covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” is how the saying actually goes. Marius’ oldest is dead to him, so he’s taken to fathering other Savages. Prepare to be held to unachievable standards. ( open. Romeo Dahl, Erica Miller)

Snake in the Grass - Marius has money. Lots of it. He despises dealing with Cobras - but this is one he tolerates. It’s a pretty easy trade off: money for information. “Simple” as that. (open.)

You Killed My Father, Prepare to Die - Someone he has a personal vendetta against or someone that has a personal vendetta against him. (open.)

[ Still adding more !! ]

#outlaw.intro #{ here he is!!!! }#{ this TRASHFIRE !!! }#{ Resident Savage Dad }#{ any of this is subject to change }#{ the machiavellian }#{ the machiavellian intro }#{ the machiavellian about }

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robultrash · 7 years

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To Stand Alone: Truthful Confessions of a Sinner

Eliza gently dabbed a wrung out cloth against her fiance’s head. He sat back in his own home, still dazed and confused. No one had explained anything to him still. And while Eliza had managed to convince the priest to allow him to leave to get medical attention, the numbness of why his neighbors would turn on him ate at his soul more than anything that man could have dished out.

When Eliza as done, Dimitov’s face was cleared of his blood. His nose has been snapped back into place, courtesy of Sadik, who had insisted it wouldn’t hurt too much, but the man was a lying bastard. His left eye was bruised, though it was clear that both would eventually turn black from the beating, as well as having a swollen cheek and knot on his head. His dark hair clung to his skin, worry perspiring and making him feel ill.

“I don’t understand…” The Bulgarian mumbled, turning to look up at Sadik, who had been hovering over them as Eliza tended his wounds. Both of them had remained quiet, much to DImitrov’s irritation. He had repeated that phrase several times now, and still no one bothered to answer him, as if their mouths had been sewn together in secrecy. But he had to know, what had he done to offend his home like this? So much as to fear and curse him?

Eliza sighed. She had sighed a few times now, and frankly, Dimitrov was growing tired of their sympathy. He wasn’t at fault for anything he had done. So he believed, anyways. Clearly the rest of the town did not agree with that though.

Finally, Sadik readjusted himself, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms. He too sighed, before deciding to uncross his arms and run a hand through his deep brown hair, as if couldn’t decide how to stand, proving that he was at unease of explaining what the hell had happened out there.

“Dimitrov, a lot has happened since you’ve been gone.” The man started, to which the younger man laughed, though clearly not from humor.

“Obviously, the whole town has turned against me. What? Has everyone contracted hysteria?” He asked, before finally pulling away from Elizabeta, who was holding his arm gently. He wasn’t asking for her to hold his hand through this, he wanted to know the truth.

Silence fell among them again, but Dimitrov was growing frustrated.

“Just fucking tell me, you finicky old man!” He commanded, slamming his hand on the chair he was sitting in. Dimitrov was usually calm and collected. He wasn’t one to have outbursts of rage. He tended to think before his actions, but now he wanted answers, and the fact that no one was telling him was only making him more anxious. What had happened since he was gone?!

Sadik normally would snap back at such language towards him, even coming from his adopted boy, who would usually get a quick smack in the head for talking to him in such a way. But Sadik knew that his anger was warranted, and God he wished he could just come outright and say it, but it was hard. It was hard knowing what DImitrov had went through, it was hard admitting what the whole town feared, a repeat of the past.

“God damn it Sadik, if you won’t tell him then I will.” Eliza said, her own patience wearing thin. She hated seeing Dimitrov like this, anxious and scared. Because despite his rage, despite his words, she could see it in him. Felt in the way he tensed up before pulling away. She knew her fiance was strong, but she also knew when he was weak, and right now, he seemed smaller than ever, even as his eyes screamed anger, and his fists turned white.

“The village was attacked.” She said, finally turning to DImitrov, whose expression turned from rage, to a distraught confusion, as if he wasn’t quite processing what he was hearing.

“By who? Serbs? Romanians? I would think this town far enough from the borders.” He said, before beginning to wonder if that was what they had meant, that his venturing towards such borders, is what had cursed the town. But had the town been raided by a foreign power, especially amidst such tension between the neighboring nations, he would have expected to be chased out of town even before stepping in it. He couldn’t imagine which outcome might have been worse.

But Eliza was shaking her head before he could question further, and tenser Dimitrov grew, because as he thought more about the town’s reaction, the harder realization was falling on him, weighing a thousand pounds and falling at an unheard of speed.

“They saw those teeth, they reacted in fear. We know you couldn’t have known. But…” Sadik trailed off, as if even he wasn’t convinced this wasn’t Dimitrov’s fault, which struck the fear out of the man’s body, and replaced it with a defensive anger.

“But I didn’t even kill any vampires! I bought these from a thief in Nikopol!” He confessed, before pulling out the teeth from where he had stashed them in his pocket. Both Elizabeta and Sadik straightened up at the sight of them, encouraging Dimitrov to defend himself more. “And...And why would I even CONSIDER bringing them here? Everyone knows about me! They all know, why would they think-”

“Don’t play stupid kid, you know exactly why.” Sadik said, his brutal honestly not out of character for him, but completely uncalled for in the situation. DImitrov felt his face fall. As uncalled for as it was, he knew exactly what Sadik was saying. Everyone knew his story. He was the only one who survived a vampire attack. He was the only living one after the disgusting slaughter of his family and neighbors. The town lacked the complete details, but they knew he was the lone one.

Maybe he had cursed the town.

He gently touched his cheek, before suddenly standing up. “I need to fix this, I need to show them I didn’t do anything.” He said. Eliza rose beside him, gently grabbing his arm again.

“Father Slavkov says he is speaking with God, Dimitrov, the people will be waiting for his say, not yours.” She explained.

“Why his say? I’M the one who knows the truth, don’t they care?” He asked, before there was a knock on the door, making all heads turn towards it, unfortunately giving Dimitrov a swift headache, and causing him to sit back down. He held his head, his ache coming from both the movement, and the fact that the whole town that once looked up to him, could turn on him in an instant, all based on the words of a man Dimitrov knew did not like him.

Sadik approached the door, anticipating another angry neighbor, looking to see the man who cursed their home. When he finally opened it though, he was met with the stoic ace of the pastor, Slavkov. His grey black hair was similar in color to Dimitrov’s, but was cut a bit longer, and thicker. His robes barely scraped the ground as he stood. His holiness radiated. He struck fear in people just as much as God was supposed to. Sadik didn’t speak, instead waiting for him to make the first move.

“Dimitrov Alexi.” The man spoke, his voice heavy, as if he was speaking from the back of his throat. Dimitrov looked up with all the slowness of a heavy bolder sitting on his head, after all, it was how he felt.

“Sir, you don’t really believe I cursed my home, do you?” He asked, drained from anger and defense. He was tired. He wanted to be relieved of this burden. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but the weight had been weighing on him the moment he decided to ignore his past and take claim of the vampire teeth. Bringing them with him, in a way, was meant to take back control of his life. He no longer had to be haunted by his past. He could move forward. That was why he was here, in this little city, full of his friends, surrounded by his loved ones. He wasn’t meant to be a survivor, he was meant to be hero. But all that now laid on the decision of a man who spoke to God. A man who was supposed to be a hero. And as little as Dimitrov would have cared for his opinion any other day, now more than ever, the man needed to hear that he was forgiven. By God or the town or whatever. He needed to be relieved.

The priest cleared his throat. Before taking a step forward.

“It is not my opinion that matters, but the Lord’s.” He started, and Dimitrov could feel himself shiver. If there was a God, surely had to show mercy to him.

“The Lord sees your heart, and you bear the markings of the devil, Dimitrov.” He said cooly, or maybe it was hot, because Dimitrov felt his skin burning. In fact, a lot of him felt hot. Did he have a fever? Was being this close to a saint making every sin in his body burn him from the insides? The corners of his vision was turning black. Maybe he was cursed.

“Whatever your intention had been, it does not matter now. Alexi, you are cursed. And I will see to it that you do not spite our home any further!”

Father Slavkov sounded so far away. Everything seemed so far away. His injuries must be catching up to him. Dimitrov could faintly her Elizabeta begging, pleading, asking if there could be some way to fix this. Dimitrov heard a yes, of course there is. But there was something dark in those words. Something that promised pain. But Dimitrov was too far gone to care. He was tired, and so, he gave in.

#hetalia #aph #aph hetalia #Axis Powers Hetalia #aph bulgaria #aph turkey #aph hungary #aph romania #robul #rombul #bulro #tsarobul #stone_writes

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mistereblue · 5 years

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ibfcbalaton · 7 years

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Standings of the IV. International Key Telecom Boilie Fishing Competition after 96 hours

What could be a better morning than hearing the news that the record of the biggest fish in the history of this four years old competition had been broken at night? And not only once but twice! There were some signs, as the storm warning was moderated to first level, so everyone could pull in again, and it was obvious, that despite the significant front or because of it, Balaton was giving the fish rhythmically. So Wednesday morning double good news did not make surprise, but made more joy, as the two nearly 19 kilograms boilie thiefs have raied the IV. International Key Telecom Boilie Fishing Competition’s glory.

The record was first beaten by Max Carp - Wild Carpfishing Team (sponsors of the sector are DYNAMITE BAITS and MISEL ZADRAVEC CARP BAITS) with a 18.800 grams fish at Fonyód, but later in a battle of the night was overtaken by with 50 grams at Keszthely by CarpSoul Hungary’s team 1. (sponsor of the sector IMPERIAL BAITS) who switched their smallest fish to a 18.850 grams beauty, so they have not only the biggest fish but they jumped up to the second place in the overall standings.

In the dizzying race the Balaton Halgazdálkodás Team (sector sponsor is CARP-MADNESS HUNGARY) who took the lead from the first night – and could increase their overall weight with only a few pounds – fell back two places in the standings, and passed the first place to the Romanian Iannis Lake (sector sponsor is Dynamite baits) who was besieging from the beta position. But the excitement of Wednesday had just begun.

The new system of measuring only the five biggest fish seems to be a good change, as it raised some less successful teams like the MAX Carp Nové Zámky (sector sponsor is NORTHERN BAITS), who with only one nice catch of a 15.425 grams common carp jumped up to the elegant midfield.

Interesting about this catch is that László Fűri, who directed this beauty right into his landing net, had become 60 a couple days earlier so he celebrated his birthday at 5:45 this morning with a prominent guest given by the lake. God bless them both!

During the day, it cooled things down because of the clear weather rose hard, sometimes stormy wind, although this was mainly due to that because of second-level storm warning everywhere the team were not able to pull the lures in and it slowed the tempo down.

Some successful throwing from shore and some feeder ship action through the waves showed that despite the fool weather, fish feel very well in the water cooled down from 18 to 14 degrees, and highly enriched with oxygen and they still are industriously looking for a high-energy boilies, which in light of the upcoming winter (which this afternoon brought a hail storm with lentil-sized ice as a harbinger) is an understandable behavior from the old carps of the lake.

The 90 flash per minute of the second-level storm warning kept its signals stubbornly during the day, which the disciplined teams tolerated well, however the ban from going in or onto the water sometimes made quite dramatic moments.

The Wednesday morning a new record with 18 850 grams by CarpSoul Hungary Team 1 made another big fish adventure which we could enjoy live as after photographing and releasing ceremony of the recorder fish, one of their fishing rod “fired”. After a fifteen minute playing from the shore - it was difficult to pull close enough to the shore in the low water – the carp finally kicked himself free and fled.

The boys worn heroically this painful loss of fish on the second place in the standings, fair play prize to them, hope they will be compensated with a couple of beautiful old carps by the capricious lake!

By late afternoon, the lights switched on 45 flashes per minute and this meant that in the downgraded first-level storm warning the competitors could pass the water. So everyone had enough time to prepare for the forthcoming Wednesday night, which certainly will be exciting, because in the first hour of the evening came the sensational news that the morning double record is broken again: the absolute competition record now is a 18.950 grams carp caught by a team of Keszthely the VMC Mystic Carp (sponsors of the sector are NORTHERN BAITS and IMPERIAL BAITS) who are now chasing the leader Iannis Lake .

After 96 hours we could say that beyond expectations currently more than 40 fish over 10 kgs make competitors and organizers be more excited about the final results of IV. International Key Telecom Boilie Fishing Competition, which now turns to its extraordinary finish. The winning places currently in respect of the total catch are as follows:

1. Iannis Lake – 65.075 g – DYNAMITE BAITS

2. Team VMC Mystic Carp – 62.425 g – NORTHERN BAITS; IMPERIAL BAITS

3. CarpSoul Hungary I. – 61.575 g – IMPERIAL BAITS

4. Balatoni Halgazdálkodás Team – 58.700 g – CARP-MADNESS HUNGARY

5. Ba Baits Team – 56.725 g – DYNAMITE BAITS

6. Carp Angler Team – 53.275 g – NORTHERN BAITS

7. NORTHERN BAITS HUNGARY II. – 47.800 g – DYNAMITE BAITS

8. Imperial Baits Team – 45.825 g – NORTHERN BAITS

9. Lökösházi Bad Company – 45.325 g – IMPERIAL BAITS

10. Pontycentrum II. Team – 44.700 g – MISEL ZADRAVEC CARP BAITS

11. Pontycentrum – 42.525 g – IMPERIAL BAITS

12. Manó Carp Team – 40.425 g – IMPERIAL BAITS

13. IQ Baits - CastawayPVA Team – 37.600 g – DYNAMITE BAITS

Biggest fish: Team VMC Mystic Carp – 18.950 g – VMC

The actual standings can be read on our blog under BE EXCITED / CURRENT RESULTS and of course are Facebook site where you can find every important information, news, picture galleries and videos on the timeline.

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