twistedisciple

[twistedisciple]

"Look at that," Griss Gregory parrots with a grin aimed at his "date," not breaking eye contact as he slips the bracelet around his wrist. The little green turtle dangles from it and almost seems to give Bernadetta's a little smooch when he takes her by the hand again.

They're in a hurry, of course, and Gregory doesn't care to linger with these foolish guards any longer, so he lets his fiancee drag him like a ragdoll up the lamplit stairs and into the main foyer. There, they're finally safe from scrutiny. Well, except from all of Bernadetta's friends (if she has them) who are bound to be wondering what kind of dumpster she dug this rat out of. As much as Griss would like to see how the Rat Princess navigates that one, he's got places to be. Other people to harass.

So instead he just grins at her with all his teeth, his eyes glittering devilishly as she shrinks back from him, rattling off agreements and accusations like they'll put a barrier up between the two of them. She's lucky, for only one reason--

Gregory von Varley, or rather, Griss doesn't care. And that goes for making her miserable just as equally as pretending to be her date for any longer than he has to. The expression on his face crumbles abruptly, like a mask disintegrating to reveal bored indifference.

"'K," he says simply, then turns away from her to amble down the nearest hallway.

And just like that, the Rat Princess' curse is broken.

At least for the night.

*⚘ don't rat me out

⠀ [ SPECIAL: RAT Y2 ] ⚘ ethereal ball 2025 ⠀

[twistedisciple]

For a split second, Griss thought maybe there was another reason the dragon had changed his mind. He'd started out of the water, after all, only to sink back down into it with some kind of stammering explanation. Surely not--? he thought, head tilting to the side. He was a fell dragon, with his years in the hundreds, if not thousands. With experience unrivaled by any human with their meagre lifespan. Surely not.

So he left it alone, giving a snort to accompany his rolling eyes.

"Fine, fine." Waving Lord Rafal off, he turned to amble over to the door that'd been thrown open a moment ago. Beyond it, a washroom, and beyond that, a dressing room. He'd left his clothes there, but didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to get back to them. "If you gotta have bathtime with your wine, who am I to stop you."

On the other side of the door was three other men in towels, standing awkwardly to the side like they hadn't been sure whether to try their luck a second time. Griss shot them a curious look when he opened the door and found them there, then he smirked.

"All yours, boys."

They looked at each other, then cautiously crept into the room with the jacuzzi - and the tightly coiled dragon - to file one by one into the water in Griss' absence.

He cut one more look over his shoulder at Lord Rafal, winked in a way that seemed to say 'enjoy your drink', and then disappeared behind the door.

From one hell to another for one lovesick dragon.

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

The nails that scored his arms with crescents spurred Griss onwards, out of the testing shallows into deeper water. Or, they would have, had the door not slammed open to a chorus of embarrassed voices at his back, and dragged their private, intimate moment back into that of a party with a guest list in the hundreds. At first, Griss didn't seem to notice and continued his measured trail down the length of Lord Rafal's neck, but then those claws released him and pushed back. Hungry for more but no less obedient for it, he reluctantly relinquished his own hold and dragon and hound parted for good.

"All your preening and now you're getting stage fright?" he teased as he returned to his original position against the wall. But he couldn't even pretend to be disappointed. Satisfaction sat smugly in his smile.

The skin of his palms was starting to pucker, anyway. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled himself out of the bath and went to retrieve the towels folded on a bench near the wall.

"Unless you're afraid of someone finding out." The glint in his eye as he turned back around, fresh towel held clumsily around his waist, lent special importance to 'someone', although he left it for Lord Rafal to fill in. He tossed him the other towel.

"My lips are sealed."

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

the magic of your wonderland

[twistedisciple]

That nearly imperceptible pulse of a heart at rest within its cage began to clamor beneath Griss' fingers as if demanding to be noticed. And notice the Hound did, along with the dilation of the dragon's serpentine pupils and the anticipatory wetting of his lips as if for a feast laid out before him. "Indelicate" in many ways, uncouth in others, a dog had instincts at least for the signals of the body, and whether or not that recognition could translate itself into words, he knew implicitly how to respond.

Eyelids lowering halfway, a lazy smile spread wide across his lips, the look was almost smug. Nearly withholding. "I know what you want, but how badly do you want it?" Asked of the dragon. But also, unconsciously, of himself. It was a gamble, as all things like this went, that what he was about to do wouldn't be the betrayal for which Lord Rafal had set this trap.

"Yet, huh?" he purred and crept closer, hands remaining one around the dragon's neck and the other keeping note on his heart. A gossamer brush over expectant lips, then the sharper graze of metal spike as Griss veered abruptly off-course toward jawline. Teasingly, he lapped up the salty tang of perspiration toward the side of his neck yet unclaimed by his hand. Here, the delicate skin so close to a lifeline of the beating heart was too hard to resist, just like the year before, but far less violent. By now, Griss had begun to learn that his lord liked things soft and sweet, so he brushed a gentle kiss beneath his jaw.

But this was merely a compromise.

In the next moment, flesh caught between the snap of fanged teeth.

And, distantly, the sounds of commotion in the washroom next door flooded into their private hideaway, reminding both dragon and hound both that they were not alone in this estate.

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

"Huh?!" She lunges. Familiar pain blooms across his shoulder and he staggers back a step from the force of the strike. He raises a hand to clasp around the hilt of the fractured weapon and touches warm, wet blood. The surprise that had flashed across his face is hardly more than an afterimage behind the sinister laughter that follows.

"Not my fault you can't take better care of your things!" He rips the blade out of his arm and throws it onto the ground, where it splatters fresh blood across the carpet runner. It doesn't seem to bother him though, because he barely pays the mess a second look. And the new wound welling up with more of it barely fazes him either, but he at least has the sense to press his palm against it to stop it from spilling down the rest of his shirt.

On the other side of the corridor, Yunaka faces off against him like she's ready for a fight. Griss is surprised that she hadn't taken the chance to run off. But then the belligerence fades when she sighs. In turn, Griss straightens up and his brows raise with curiosity. For a moment, he considers her proposal - if that's even what it could be called. Sacrifice her first if it comes down to a choice between her or Lord Rafal. Well, that was basically what the Corrupted had done. That was what the fell disciples knew would be in store for them as well.

Slowly, a toothy grin fissures across his face.

"I dunno if you know what you're getting yourself into, but I'm gonna hold you to it. If anything happens to Lord Rafal while you're still breathing, I'm gonna make you wish you weren't."

He flicks his hand, splattering more droplets of blood across the floor and wall, then turns to leave the way they'd come into this hallway earlier.

"And it'll be even worse if it's 'cause you've got your fingers in all the pies."

the magic of your wonderland

[twistedisciple]

"Maybe try harder next time," Griss sneers through the door. The woe is me card? He doesn't know what she's talking about, but he could at least meet her with the death threats. There were all sorts of things he could blame on why he was alive now, but he'd gotten sick of trying to think about them a while ago. Looking back and wondering 'what if' was a pointless endeavor. So he just doesn't do it.

The door rattles again, but it doesn't jostle him as hard as it had a moment ago. From the vibrations reverberating through the wood, he gets the impression that she's trying to pry her way out, break through the handle, loosen the hinges, or something else that's led her to fiddle with the door.

Now from the other side, maybe it's the mounting frustration, maybe Griss had actually hit a sore spot, there's some gritty emotion bleeding out. It's not just sneering jabs anymore, but justifications and self-defense. She'd killed her dad, she admits through barely contained rage, and that raises Griss' eyebrows with interest. Did all her soft little friends know about that one, he wonders. Most of them had only ever killed Corrupted before, and those were hardly even human anymore.

There's a time to wonder about that later, and he lets it slide for now, surreptitiously tucking that little fact into his pocket for when he might find a use for it later. If she doesn't think he's heard her, or paid attention, all the better. So he takes a dig at something else - that which had been a bizarre and unanswered question ever since Lord Rafal had revealed her to be his newest knight.

"If you're following a fell dragon, but you're not a fell disciple, then what the hell even are you?" He's genuine, for once. There's not a sneer or condescending smile to be heard in his voice. Griss followed Lord Sombron because he was a fell dragon. He follows Lord Rafal for the same reason. Mauvier and Marni had Lord Sombron, then Lady Veyle. Zephia was in a category all her own. He'd never met anyone who would follow a fell dragon without claiming themselves to be of the fell faith. And he certainly wouldn't follow the Divine Dragon while he maintained that faith in the fell church.

Suddenly the doorknob hits the ground heavily and bumps against his foot. He glances down, and realizes a split second before the magic begins to unravel that his fun is up. Within in the closet, everything snaps back into reality. The red light goes out. The walls expand to their normal dimensions. The floor returns to normal. There's no blisters or burns on Yunaka's hands. And the door swings open to the light of the hallway as if releasing her from the depths of a dream.

Griss stands waiting with one hand on his hip, the other one turning a finger dramatically in his ear. "What a racket. A little darkness got you all hot 'n bothered, huh?" He nods to the doorknob rolling slowly toward the wall and grins. "Had to go 'n destroy this rich guy's property. Tch. What a waste."

the magic of your wonderland

[twistedisciple]

Between stripping down to nearly nothing but a towel and the last beat of conversation, it was his own words that had left Griss feeling the most exposed and vulnerable. He couldn't bring himself to look at the one he shared this bath with any longer, and went back to staring, like he had at the very beginning, at the eddying water between them. "I am grateful." "The concerns for me are duly received." "The past shall not repeat." All of it, from gentle tone to gentler words, chafed like starchy, stiff new clothes, and hardly seemed to fit. He flicked his fingers through the water, elbow propped up along the wall, hiding discomfort in his usual shade of nonchalance, until Lord Rafal would allow himself to be consigned to the periphery of his hound's attention no longer.

New waves crossed the ripples that Griss sent out, then skin brushed against skin. His palm was lifted and pressed back into the place it'd been not to0 long ago, when this whole snowball of events began its messy descent down the mountain, and he glanced, startled, to the fell dragon now by his side. His eyes flicked between his hand, nestled against his chest, the steady pulse of his heart beneath his fingers, and then back up to his face. As always, there was that ever-present impulse to claw his fingers, dig his nails into healing flesh, and tear this soft moment into pieces like he had that of the newly stitched together band of knights in the woods, and the hideous uniform in the closet of a cafe.

But he didn't. Not like that, anyway. Instead, that moment of vulnerability was shuttered into the past by the crooked smirk that took the place of surly concentration. He tilted his head and tapped a toying rhythm over the remnants of the bruise.

"Aw, is the big scary dragon trying to make a sad li'l human feel better?" He snorted, but his other hand darted out for his neck, catching thumb right above the sternum. As if studying the habits of ants marching in a row, he laid each finger down delicately, from back of the ear to top of the shoulder, his grin mere inches from the object of his attention.

"Zephia would've ground my bones to dust before she'd let me put a hand on her like this, much less leave such a pretty bruise. And Lord Sombron probably would've killed me before the thought even crossed my mind." Griss' eyes lifted to catch Lord Rafal's. "I dunno if it's better for your survival that you trust humans so much."

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

She doesn't want to finish the job? (little does he know that he is the job) He can't say he's surprised to hear that, especially if she'd botched it so badly the first time. A loaf of bread left out in the open could have wound up in anyone's hands. And the poison hadn't been a lethal dose. What an amateur.

"You scared of muckin' it up again?" he asks, all teeth. But she shushes him almost immediately and pulls him to a stop just short of the gate. If she was trying not to be suspicious, she was doing a poor job of it, but fortunately (or not, although Griss had never minded) it's her plus one who catches the eyes of the guards standing watch over the pair of wagons at the front. Of course a man in hardly scraps for clothing (he'd dressed up a little, in his own way, of course) and painted with dangerous-looking, bright red marks would invite their scrutiny, but that meant, at least, that they wouldn't be looking at the real culprit.

In the closest semblance of hand-in-hand that a hostage and kidnapper situation can be, Griss lets the Princess lead the way. She's barely keeping it together though, stammering and stuttering all over her words. He can feel her practically trembling in his grip around her wrist, which isn't good if they have any hope of looking normal. The shorter of the two guards, however, is too busy checking over his guest list to notice, and the taller one stares directly at Mr. Mysterious. Over his shoulder, the guest list guard murmurs a few names: Varley, Arnault, Aegir. And a few other things Griss can't catch. But that's enough to get things rolling.

In a sudden, and perhaps theatrical display of confidence, Griss releases the Rat Princess' wrist to instead throw his arm around her thin shoulders and pull her close to his side, flashing a crooked grin that forces the guard to finally glance away, unnerved.

"Gregory von Varley," he lies effortlessly, violating two names at once. "Her fiance. You gonna let us in or what?"

Thankfully, these guards don't know the lineages of every noble house across Fódlan, or else they might question the validity of a sudden Varley son appearing out of nowhere.

"Miss Varley deposited a gift earlier," says the disinterested guest list guard, and begins to pen in a new name beside Bernadetta. The taller one doesn't quite buy it, and studies the two of them for some reason to turn them away.

"What?" Gregory von Varley starts, offended. "Come on, you heard the man! Gift's all accounted for. If you turn us out, we'll just take it right back with us. Wouldn't wanna be the reason the little birthday boy goes with one less present, huh?"

The guard really doesn't want to believe it. It's written all over his exhausted face. Plus, there's a whole mountain of gifts in the wagon already. Half of them probably wouldn't even missed, much less one, but more than that, he'd have to dig the Varley present back out. And decides that's more trouble than it's worth. So with a long-suffering sigh, he pats them both down for weapons, and sends them inside.

*⚘ don't rat me out

⠀ [ SPECIAL: RAT Y2 ] ⚘ ethereal ball 2025 ⠀

[twistedisciple]

"Uh-huh," Griss answers nonchalantly, although his voice pitches slightly when the door shudders with sudden force and knocks him forward. As his hand comes away, the heat spreading through it begins to fade just as rapidly as it'd started. The rattling of the hinges doesn't sound too good, so Griss throws his back against the door again, laughing all the while.

"I'm following Lord Rafal 'cause I'm a disciple of the fell church. Thought we established this a while ago, y'know, when you tried to kill me 'n all the other Hounds for bringing Lord Sombron back to life."

From the sound of the scuffling on the other side, he doesn't think there's much time left to have fun, so he slaps his palm down against the wood beside him again. This time he closes his eyes to focus, but he still wears that big, wide grin on his face. Alongside the soft rumbling of the walls closing in, he can sense the thrum of magic that controls this mystical door. This time, the ground beneath Yunaka's feet turns soggy and slushy, like quicksand clinging to her feet and ankles.

Again, Griss quiets for a moment to listen to her movements on the other side, and to see if his spell worked. Unfortunately, this one slows the walls, but in their place, the ceiling starts to lower.

"I can't kill you, and sacrifice is off the table, so you're not getting the full fell experience. Hehehe, you probably never thought about all the 'coworkers' I mighta had before Mauvier 'n Marni came along. Or where all those Corrupted came from." He turns his head and starts to speak toward the door, directly to Yunaka on the other side. "Every fell disciple is ready to give their life to their lord in the highest form of divine servitude. Are you?"

the magic of your wonderland

[twistedisciple]

In the aftermath of excavating something from the unfathomable depths, the earth would seem to sigh and settle around it, collapsing back in on itself where there had once been something holding it up, again burying the arduous track made by a painful disinterment. In an echoing poolroom of marble and stone, that vacuum was filled instead by the quiet murmuring of the water, that unending drip-drip from the faucet, and a long sigh drawn out from one of its occupants. The scene was not too different than it had been some moments ago, when the two had first convened here after coming in from the storm, and yet the water was no longer as hot as it had been then, the tortured rubber toy now sported a crack in its paint, the pool had widened in one way or another, and there was otherwise a sensation that something had changed.

With his sigh, Griss settled his head back against the the edge of the pool and sunk deep into the water, turning his gaze toward the tiled ceiling instead of Lord Rafal. These were things he'd made an effort not to think about, and yet lately he found that he couldn't stop thinking about them.

Lord Rafal, self-proclaimed chosen heir of the fell dragon Griss had followed for all his life had seemed the perfect replacement for the void that had come after Lord Sombron's death: an idol on some unreachable pedestal, dictating the ways one must suffer to be loved, demanding nothing less than utmost loyalty. He didn't know when that had changed. Maybe it was a year ago, when a similarly volatile conversation had occurred between sugary sweet drinks, in which Griss had to contend with the idea that Lord Rafal might be a worm. That pedestal had lowered into the realm of reality, now a high-backed throne occupied by a lord of flesh, who had eyes and ears and breathed the same air as his disciples.

That throne, over time, had lost its gilding, and by now had become as familiar as the patriarch's chair at a kitchen table. A place occupied by only one other person in Griss' life.

"Zephia," he said after a lengthy quiet. "That was her name. A mage dragon and leader of the Four Hounds. She took me in when I was a kid, and was the only thing I ever had that I could call a family."

That word was still strange, still bitter in flavor, and even stranger to be spoken out of earshot of the one who had been so insistent on calling them such until it finally, reluctantly, stuck. Right at the end.

Slowly, Griss peeled his eyes from the ceiling and looked back across the water at Lord Rafal almost in challenge.

"Look," he started sharply at first, but his voice mellowed in less than a breath. "I know I don't gotta protect you. If you wanna keep her around after everything I've said, fine. That's not my business." A flick of his wrist splashed an arc of water over the rubber duck and toward the fell dragon. "At least I got all this crap off my chest."

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

"No thank you, huh?" Griss tries to sound like he's hurt, but he's enjoying this a little too much. For now, Yunaka is useless to do anything but try to strike at him from the other side of the door with verbal barbs. The more she talks, the more he wonders if the rest of her allies ever saw this crass side of her. If the Divine One had scraped some dirt off a tavern floor and decided to close his eyes to the idea that it was anything other than a person of virtue. Or even if he cared.

He probably didn't. For better or worse.

The charade doesn't last, and before long Griss is laughing to himself. It's low, but certainly loud enough to be heard through the door. She wouldn't so much as utter a thank you, but dealer's choice? He liked the sound of that.

"Hehe. Alright. Let's find out what your pain tolerance is together." Beneath his hand, the door starts to heat up rapidly. It radiates outward to the door handle and the metal hinges, where they, too, heat up even faster. Yunaka, by now, would feel it just by hovering her hand near the door, and touching bare skin to the metal would no doubt scald.

"We'll start easy. It's getting pretty cramped in there right about now, huh? Sounds like you better get working on that lock."

the magic of your wonderland

[twistedisciple]

"About you dying? Yeah, of course this is what this is all about!" Griss snapped, voice raising over the squeal of the yellow duck in Lord Rafal's hands. No matter how many times he or Yunaka insisted that there were no ulterior motives to her knighthood, something didn't sit right with him. He could play nice with a coworker, even if they were as young and childish as Marni or as stiff and boring as Mauvier, but he'd never forgive himself if that leniency cost him the last thing he had in this life. It was an odd place for this sudden seriousness to come out - two men in a hot tub, until now batting a stupid rubber toy back and forth like it was a nuisance to their conversation - but there was no mistaking the hard, sharp look in Griss' eyes as he stared across the water at the fell dragon that had taken him in, meeting detached, cat-like curiosity.

Accentuated by the slight downturned angles of Griss' eyes, however, there was also something faintly despondent in the look he gave his lord. Fell dragons were impossible to defeat, at least for humans. Or so Lord Rafal believed. But Griss had witnessed a reality that told a different story, written in part by a newly-minted knight. He hated that he even had to bring it up, or that there was any worry to admit to at all. But what disciple would glimpse the future and withhold it from that which they adored?

"Say what you want about dragon superiority, but the two strongest ones I ever knew are dead now. That girl," he jutted his chin accusingly at Lord Rafal, "in her sincerity, was part of the army that killed 'em. And I shoulda been killed, too."

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

The more she shrinks away, wrings her hands, grasps for words, plays the terrified little mouse, the more Griss bristles like a hungry wolf. Step by slow, careful step, he draws closer as she stammers over her reasons for being outside in this weather, and then finally bumbles over his demands. With his teeth bared in a precarious grin, it's a devil's image that throws its long, dark shadow over Her Rat Highness, like the villain in a fairy tale, except this time the villain has his way. There's no knight in shining armor to save this princess.

Suddenly though, she bows up with whatever courage she can muster and defends her single life. It catches the nefarious Rat King off guard and he retreats back a step, now once more human, his grin no longer dangerous but fractured by crooked amusement as he tilts his head.

"Where are they then?" He throws a quick look up and down the beach, somewhat exaggerated in his performance. "Looks like it's just us, girlie. No one's coming to whisk you off your feet and into the mansion."

Did people even do that? He doesn't really know, and he doesn't really care either. It sounded nice, and the important thing was that it was all about how alone Bernadetta was at this very moment. Griss was doing her a favor. And all of a sudden she seems to realize it too, because it's almost like a miniature raincloud comes to pour down onto her head alone. She gives up. Just like that. Griss blinks, shocked.

"Just like that?" he can't help but blurt out. "I mean-- Good. You made the right choice. You're spared all that embarrassment of going in there sad and alone, and I get into this fancy shindig. It's a win-win, yeah? C'mon."

He grins again, but it's less toothy and dangerous. Grabbing her by the wrist, he starts to drag her toward the gate up the beach. It'd be slow-going in this sand, but they'd get there before the second round of the storm rolled in.

"I won't say a word about your li'l secret." There's a mischievous glint in his eye when he glances back at her again. "But you still gotta finish the job, don'tcha? I mean, the kid's still breathin' 'n all. You're gonna be in trouble if the guys find out."

Who the hell were 'the guys?'

"A half-finished hit's dangerous for everyone."

*⚘ don't rat me out

⠀ [ SPECIAL: RAT Y2 ] ⚘ ethereal ball 2025 ⠀

[twistedisciple]

Well, that was boring. As far as Griss could tell, Yunaka and Lord Rafal really did just have a pleasant swim together - human and fell dragon, for some reason. And on top of that, Yunaka had learned something that not even a dedicated disciple of the fell had ever known. Lord Sombron, after all, never really had much of an opportunity to swim, or to even indulge in any other leisurely activities. Conquest had been the only thing he craved, where his son enjoyed paddling around with those who had a hand in killing him.

Still, the answer really didn't come as much of a surprise.

"Yeah, yeah," Griss muttered as he sunk down into the hot water nearly to his chin. "Fell dragons are better than humans in all ways."

And so he retreated into a thoughtful silence, watching the water cycle through a rainbow of colors as Lord Rafal busied himself with the pool's controls. The rubber duck bobbed across the bubbling surface back over toward the dragon again, as if to escape Griss' idle hands, but he hardly seemed to notice. Red. Orange. Green. Pink. Blue. Entranced by the hypnotic flash from color to color, his mind, bored of conversation, began drifting to other morbid fantasies, reaching for the images of peeling skin like flipping through a book for the place one left off. But he never got there. Like so much else he enjoyed, it was interrupted jarringly and uncomfortably by Yunaka.

"... She came to you first, didn't she? Yunaka, I mean." Griss broke the somnolent silence suddenly, glancing up from the water to Lord Rafal's face. "'cause she had a comfortable place in the Divine One's army. You wouldn't've known she was thinking about hopping ship unless she told you."

Sitting chin-deep in bubbles was hardly conducive for conversation, so Griss slowly pushed himself back up until shoulders and chest peeked back out above the surface. Sharp eyes studied Lord Rafal as he did so.

"I dunno why she picked now to do it. If she was gonna devote herself to a fell dragon, she could've changed sides ages ago. So that can't be why." 'She's not like me' lurked unspoken between the lines. "It looks like there's something more to this whole knight thing she just won't admit."

✦ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✧

Ethereal Ball 2025, Week 2: The Devil's Bath

[twistedisciple]

It doesn't take long for Yunaka to start goading him from the other side of the door, but for now it seems in line with all of her other sharp-tongued quips. No sign of distress or panic yet. No sounds of scrabbling at the door yet either. None that he could hear, anyway, as he leaned against it with his arms crossed, facing the blank wall on the other side of the narrow, chandelier-lit corridor. He laughs darkly.

"Nah, I got my fill last year. Thought I'd share the fun with my new coworker, out of the goodness of my heart."

Last year's closet hadn't been quite the torture he'd expected when he'd gone in, anyway. If anything was soft, it was all those partygoers who'd try to pass off a trick room as something more dangerous than it was. This time though, he'd make it a little more interesting, but that could only be done while he stood on the outside.

Something hard hits the door and the shockwave reverberates up through the wood, which grows Griss' grin a little wider. She was trying her hand at breaking out now, by the sound of it.

"Trying to get out already, huh? Can't handle a little bit of darkness?" Unfolding his arms, he presses one palm against the door beside him and feels for the faint hum of magic.

"And after all that trouble I went through to give you something nice," he continues, his voice honey sweet. "Heh. Tell me: how do you like to be hurt?"

the magic of your wonderland

[twistedisciple]

Yunaka finally cooperates, but not without protest. She thinks Lord Rafal won't care about what they're doing now, but if Griss gives in to her complaints, then she'll know for sure. Or, at least, know that Griss knows that their lord probably wouldn't care. But that worked in his favor, too, since that meant he could do whatever he wanted with Yunaka just shy of killing her.

Unfortunately, if this closet is anything like its previous iteration, this wouldn't even come close to killing her. But that left him plenty of room to play.

He doesn't say anything, and merely grins devilishly at her until she decides to finally relent and step into the closet. It doesn't do anything at first, just like last year.

"Good thing you like it," he says, and pushes off the wall to reach across and grab the door. He starts to shut it, but brings the opening to a sliver just wide enough for his face, throwing Yunaka into near-complete darkness save for the harsh beam of light that cuts down one side of her.

"'cause you're gonna be here for a while."

Slam. The door shuts heavily and its inner mechanisms groan until the lock turns over. Griss turns around and presses his back against it, some added defense just in case Yunaka does manage to pick her way out faster than the closet can work its magic, but also so he can hear her struggling on the other side. Any second now, a red light would flash on, the floor would start to pitch, and the walls would begin to close in on her. If everything was just as it was last year, anyway. But Griss had something else in mind, too, owing to the magical properties of the whole corridor, which he could manipulate far easier than if the thing was fully grounded in reality.

"If you get scared and decide you've had enough," he calls through the door, the smirk on his face coming out in his tone, too, "just start screaming and maybe I'll think about letting you out early. But it's gotta sound like you really mean it. It's gotta sound like something in there's really hurting you good."

the magic of your wonderland