January catch-all (open)

[emet_sulk]

WHO: Emet-Selch and whoever
WHAT: Questing and getting up to (hopefully minimal) trouble
WHEN: January
WHERE: Camelot area
WARNINGS: Implied body horror for first prompt. There may be mild spoilers so let me know if that's something you want to avoid.


1. Bridge to the Other Side (Knight quest)

If he were in possession of his true magicks, Emet-Selch thinks sourly to himself as he gazes up at the bridge trolls surrounding him, then these beasts would be vanquished without a second thought.

The one in front of him leers and jabs a blunt finger in his face. "Hand over yer valuables if ye know what's good fer ye, little man."

He's sure that the brutes would be more intimidating to someone of shorter stature. Frankly, they would be intimidating to most anyone possessed of weaker wills. Emet-Selch, however, is not intimidated.

"I'm afraid I really must get by," he says evenly. "Don't you have better things to do with your time? Say, slavering over whatever it is you things eat?"

This produces a raucous round of grunts and laughter. Sighing, the Ascian unbelts his grimoire and flips through the pages to a new alchemy circle he has drawn for this precise situation. Actually, while he's at it...

"To me," he says quietly. His familiar materialises out of a swirl of shadows with a growl. At his silent command, it starts to glow and ripple violet. Emet-Selch's eyes glow bright gold and an arcane wind whips up around them, forcing the less self-assured trolls to back up a step and look on fearfully. A strangled gasp. He doubles over, convulsing - the gwiber joins itself to him, body and all, granting him part of its form and its power.

He is still a man, but he is also a dragon. His eyes gleam bright violet with gold edging, wings tear their way out of the back of his vest and shirt, flashes of dark indigo scaling harden across swathes of skin, and his hands and feet grow into thick, lethal claws. Most importantly, however, power thrums through him. Not nearly the same as what he ought to possess, but enough.

"Shall we see what I can make of your blood and bone?" he says, before bursting out into a guttural laugh. He holds the grimoire out before him, readying his spell for whoever attacks him first.

2. Shadlin Shakers (Knight quest)

It's quiet in the woods. Too quiet. During the day they had been unremarkable, and someone with less care for their work may have been content to leave it at that and leave before dark fell. However Emet-Selch, for all his laziness, believes in doing a job properly. He comes to the woods in the late afternoon and stays until night darkens the land. There are many creatures who won't show themselves except under cover of darkness. It is these creatures he wishes to see - if aught exist.

Fortunately for him, they seem to indeed. He can see and feel their eyes staring at him from out of the shadows. They aren't too unnerving at first, but the deeper he heads into the woods, the more their gazes bother him. He has grown used to making himself the centre of attention (for the greater good of his people) but he always had moments of reprieve. Private moments to himself and spaces to retreat to when it grew too much. Ultimately, the silent blinking eyes of the Dusklight Woods grows unbearable and he finds himself pivoting about, shouting.

"Are you quite done staring?!"

3. Reflections in Crystal (Mirror, Mirror TDM prompt)

Another cave. Emet-Selch strides in without a second thought, wishing people would stop hiding precious commodities in these dank sorts of places. Things would be so much easier if they had their necessary materials somewhere easily accessible.

Just as he's thinking this, an image begins to form before him. He halts, frowning suspiciously as the image wavers, clears, and materialises upon the ground. Not just one but many scattered all about the floor of the cave. Bodies. Cloaked in the dark robes of his people but he knows by their heights that they aren't his people.

"What trickery is this?" he mutters, walking over to one and nudging it over with his foot. It rolls over, white, nondescript mask falling from their face to reveal a lifeless Felih.

He reels to his feet. Checking the others reveals more familiar faces: those of the people he has grudgingly allowed himself to care about. Irhya, Jophrey, the matriarch, and more from long, long ago in his past. And past them all...someone standing before an altar to Zodiark, dressed in Ascian robes with a jagged staff of violet crystal in one hand, made again in the image of his god. He knows who it is before they turn around.

Is that how he looked like before? Cold, lifeless eyes behind a red mask sweeping detachedly across the dead. His illusory self fixes its gaze upon him last.

"Necessary sacrifices to bring back our star," the other him says. "Mere fragments, unworthy of your time."

There's another figure lying on the altar behind them. He steps around and feels his stomach drop. The name slips from his lips before he can stop himself.

"Hythlodaeus..."

Lying bloodied and mangled, as he remembers seeing them in the aftermath of the Final Days. But it's clear Hythlodaeus is not part of the other sacrifices littering the cave floor. No, those sacrifices are for him. His people. To bring them back to life.

He backs away feeling numb. This is the cost, writ plain as day. He has succeeded in ignoring it for so long but the toll is laid out for him to see. Everywhere he turns, another body. Closer to the walls, they pile so high as to nearly reach the ceiling. If he were to approach and turn over each one, he's sure he would recognise every face.

The other him lays an ethereal hand on his shoulder and leans in, whispering. "Why do you hesitate? Are you afraid? Then allow me to dispel your doubts..."

It raises its staff and the staff begins to glow. Emet-Selch doesn't seem to notice, rooted in place as he is and staring at the countless bodies stretching before him.

4. Wildcard

If you have other ideas for a thread using prompts either from the questboard or the TDM, send me a PM.

Comments

closed to Hythlodaeus and Irhya

[emet_sulk]

In the dead of winter do they three set off from Camelot, hoping to find their way to this 'Land of Rot' that the people have warned them about. Danger has never deterred Emet-Selch - nor Irhya - and Hythlodaeus seems too cheery about the prospective journey to worry about aught else.

The journey itself is expected to take several hours by foot, giving the three of them plenty of time to plan ahead for when they discover the ghosts which supposedly live at their destination.

"I never understood the purpose of money," he remarks. "It only serves to divide the people into those who have and those who have not. If I could only create my own blade..."

[omnicrafter]

"Ah. That desperate for something to complain about already?" Irhya grins, turning coyly to try and catch his eyes. "I would agree with you, by the by, but I've also never known anything else..."

But the real complaint, of course, is that he can't afford a blade for himself, something she knows she'd be restless without in a situation like this. "Tell you what, though. If I can get access to a forge in the coming days, and scrounge up some materials, I'll make you something. At -- a discount, most likely." Then she turns to Hythlodaeus and asks, "Do you want anything out of the deal? You really ought to have something to defend yourself with for the future..."

[weenwoon]

Hythlodaeus chuckles to himself as he watches his friends banter, and at Irhya's question he waves a hand bashfully.

"Oh, I would not know where to start with a weapon! Besides, I was rather hoping I could leave protection to my two gallant knights."

As in them. They're the gallant knights.

[emet_sulk]

He rolls his eyes. "I do believe you have let this realm's stories get to your head, Hythlodaeus. Irhya is the only one with any claim to the title of knight. I am a mage."

A mage who is quite comfortable lobbing fireballs above the heads of actual knights, thank you very much. Alchemy doesn't exactly lend itself to said lobbing of fireballs, that said, but he's been working on preventative measures in case they do get attacked on the way.

[omnicrafter]

"And mages are far too squishy to take hits," she says with a laugh. "So I guess I'll just have to defend the both of you. For now."

Not that she's terribly interested in becoming a proper "knight" here, given how against-the-grain her job actually is. "Besides, they'd hate me as an actual knight," she adds, "I guarantee you. I prefer not to run with or against them; I clean up what messes they leave behind."

mirror mirror prompt

[seasoflight]

Felih had been warned about the cave, and told of their goal. They were to retrieve the crystals and take them on the journey to leave at their destination, but hells, Felih hated dank places like this. His fussiness about cleanliness made him bristle and huff and fuss about avoiding touching... well, anything.

That, and it's still so cold out. Winter is awful. The deeper he goes, the more he wishes he still had magic of any kind- this cave nulling even the scant healing magics he'd been able to cling onto in this realm. It's dark, and makes him uneasy... it's only a familiar scent that makes him speed up and move further in with more determination.

To his confusion, all he sees is his beloved, standing stock-still in one of the caverns, staring into the air.

"Hades?" Felih murmurs softly, stepping closer, reaching out to touch his arm. It's only as he finally touches his mate that he suddenly starts to see things that definitely weren't there a moment ago, and he startles, looking around wide-eyed as he tries to understand what he's seeing.

[emet_sulk]

He jolts at the touch, grabbing Felih suddenly. All at once, he realises that his other self is preparing to do and yanks himself and Felih away from them. Darkness spills forth from the staff, splashing against the floor of the cave before dissipating back into nothing. Emet-Selch doesn't know why he's so afraid of it. It's only Darkness. Only Darkness... Zodiark's Darkness.

A chill runs through him. Being tempered again - is that what he fears? To have his judgement clouded, heart closed off. And yet...to also have the power to fix their shattered star.

He feels sick. Conflicting desires war anew in his breast. Why give him this hope? He doesn't want it. He doesn't need it. He's dead and that should be the end of it. The world is in the hands of the mortal races now, theirs to make flourish or ruin.

He's frozen again when the phantom Emet-Selch advances upon them once more. "Felih," he says numbly, gripping the shorter man tightly enough to almost bruise, "help me."

[seasoflight]

His mate is terrified, and now that he's begun to see the same visions, he understands why. There are bodies littered everywhere, there's a shade of Emet himself approaching them, a face he doesn't recognize but an aether he does, and his mind is racing a malm a minute in an attempt to parse what's happening.

The darkness that had nearly struck them, before Hades pulled him out of its path.

Felih feels helpless. He has no magic here, the cave's magic stifling him, a heavy weight weighing down on him as he tries to protectively put himself between Hades and his shade. Even with Hades gripping him so painfully tightly, he puts himself there, tail bristling as he stands his ground.

This feels too real, far too real.

"You're not him anymore," is what he says to his mate, as he stares the phantom down, never once removing his gaze, watching it like a hawk. "You have a choice, now, darling. Only you can make it. Not me, not him- only you."

[emet_sulk]

He hasn't felt this afraid since he first saw the stars rain fire upon Amaurot. Choice...? What sort of bad jest is this choice?! His gaze wanders over the lifeless, cloaked figures and sees only the bodies of everyone he failed to save. His people. His loved ones.

"Do you think you matter to him?" the phantom says softly, not even bothering to acknowledge Felih with a look. As if they were beneath him. Its eyes remain fixed on the real Emet-Selch. "You are a mere shard of a friend I once knew. A pale reflection. Do I love you because of who you are or who you were?"

Emet feels himself grow cold. He cannot bring himself to look at Felih for the words strike a chord within him that he cannot deny.

[weenwoon]

They'd split up, despite Hades's grumbling about how Hythlodaeus can manage to get into trouble in a closed empty room, not to mention a cave, but the argument that they might be able to find the crystal quicker eventually held some weight. Hythlodaeus has wandered off to a side cave, the light of his familiar's fire reflecting warm orange on the walls, but it feels like it hasn't been three minutes before he suddenly hears his name. Smiling to himself, he retraces his steps, poking his head back into the main cavern - to see his friend seemingly frozen in place.

"Hades?"

Hythlodaeus frowns slightly, a little worried, and strides towards the other man, who suddenly backs away from empty air before him - a fact that makes Hythlodaeus no less anxious. He gestures to his familiar which takes off his shoulder instantly, seemingly growing a little bigger as it hovers over the two of them protectively, and then Hythlodaeus reaches for Hades's shoulder--

--only to be dragged into the illusion. He startles, only some back part of his mind noting the change in the scenery as his attention is solely focused on the face he hasn't seen in some time - and even though the features are the same, there is a coldness, otherness to it that strikes fear in Hythlodaeus.

"Hades?.."

He repeats the name, disbelieving, uncertain of what's going on - he can feel his friend's shoulder under his hand, the warmth of the body he's wearing now, yet there's no denying that the man standing before them is the one Hythlodaeus had first met so many, many centuries ago.

But once his mind manages to refocus on the present, the sheer sense of wrongness becomes more and more prominent. The sight of the bodies around the cave finally seeps into his consciousness, the uncaring, lifeless look in the Architect's eyes is all the more menacing, and with a sinking feeling Hythlodaeus realizes that the energy gathering in the staff is likely aimed at the Hades he's come to know now. But for better or for worse, he's always been stubborn in his way...

"No."

He steps in front of his friend, as though to shield him, extends a hand towards the man in the mask in a stopping gesture. In truth, his heart is beating madly with unfamiliar fear - never, never before has he been afraid of Hades, and he's barely managing to keep himself from thinking about the bodies lining the floor and the walls, for if he does he knows he won't be able to move anymore, and yet... Though he's turned down the position, Hythlodaeus is still chief of the bureau, second to the Architect, and protecting their people is still his duty. And Hades is still one of them, no matter what, even if it's himself Hythlodaeus might need to protect him from.

[emet_sulk]

The firebird exudes a calming warmth and Hades' shoulders relax marginally. But he remains gripped with terror. For so long, he has been avoiding his own past deeds. Looking upon the fruits of his labours, anyone would be struck dumb with horror.

The other Emet-Selch pauses. The glow from his staff wanes. Looking Hythlodaeus over dispassionately they say, "Why do you stop me? I do this for your sake."

Behind Hythlodaeus, Hades sucks in a sharp breath and grips his friend's sleeve. "Don't," he warns in a low tone. "I lost you once already. I'll not lose you again."

[weenwoon]

Hythlodaeus breathes out carefully. So it does come to this... It's not how he wanted to have this conversation - if he wanted it at all, - but there is little choice here.

"I want to hope you would not strike me down," he murmurs to Hades before turning to face the Architect before them again. By the heavens, let him be right in that assumption.

He takes a deep breath and begins to speak, voice quiet but determined.

"You do it for your own sake, Hades. What needs have the dead got? But it is an unimaginably painful thing to be torn from our people, to be alone when there have always been many. A feeling I have got a taste of in this world, but it is as a speck of grit to the ocean of your own suffering. 'Tis in your grief and pain and loneliness that you yearn for us who have long gone. For the comfort and joy and happiness of our lives. For the world to make sense again."

For a moment his voice breaks and Hythlodaeus swallows painfully. How hard it is to say such things when he, too, feels them...

"But what manner of a star would you bring back with such sacrifice? How do you think we, I would feel, knowing the price it took? For there to be peace in the world, one must needs be at peace with oneself. But how could we be at peace when it came at the cost of countless lives? How much guilt would you lay upon us to assuage your own?"

He breathes out, shakily, feeling his hands tremble. He doesn't know how this shade would respond to his words, and fear still grips him at heart. Nevertheless, he perseveres.

"So... please, Hades. No more. I am here, and you are alone no longer. If you need proof that there is yet another way, then let me be it."

Heart thundering, he extends a hand to the shade of his friend. Maybe this is stupid and he'll get killed for this, but he can't not try.

[emet_sulk]

The Architect appears unmoved by Hythlodaeus' words, staring at the extended hand with curled lip. But Hades, listening to everything, finds his breath coming short. The hand gripping his friend's sleeve trembles.

"You haven't seen their souls," he says, lips barely moving. "So weak and feeble, so pale. You have much keener sight than I - you would be horrified to see them now. They don't know what they're missing. How can they be so content with mediocrity?"

The memory of it still makes him feel ill. This is not how life should be, he thinks, even as images of Felih and Irhya float before his mind's eye.

Bridge to the Other Side

[lucere]

Just as the battle begins, a bolt of lightning suddenly strikes out of nowhere followed by a shrill screech. A familiar blue-feathered beast appears, one that looks more serpent than a bird. It hisses viscously at one of the trolls before suddenly dashing towards it. It would seem that Tonitrus, as Regis has named it, has taken the initiative here. The viscous fiend lives up to its fierce namesake. It rips at the offending troll with beak, pecking away until the flesh becomes bone. A gruesome sight to behold.

"Tonitrus." A familiar voice calls out as the thunderbird mauls its prey. "You're a bit too hasty today," Regis says with a sigh once he spots the grotesque beasts upon the bridge. He's clad in black and golds today, looking very much like the Lucian Kings of yore despite his lack of a crown. While he looks very similar to before, it should be noted that the old king is without his cane and leg brace now. He stands tall now looking very much like the Reaper himself except for his serene gaze.

"It would seem that the rumors were indeed true." Regis comments in regards to the trolls. "But I hadn't expected to see a dragon here." He says as he turns his gaze towards the macabre of flesh and scales.

[emet_sulk]

The bolt of lightning is not his. He whirls around tensely, thinking that one of his foes is a mage. But no, it's merely a familiar old man. That king, if he recalls what Hythlodaeus told him rightly.

He spares a brief look for the troll being mauled by Regis' familiar. Despite his threat, he hadn't planned on drawing out the ordeal quite so gruesomely. Just enough to teach them a lesson and send them on their way.

"I am no dragon," he says roughly. His voice comes out coarser. Perhaps because of the fusion to his familiar. "I've no time to waste explaining it to you now. The spell will not last forever."

So saying, he calls upon his new wellspring of magic and activates one of the circles in his grimoire. The ground beneath several trolls' feet suddenly hollows out, dumping them in shallow pits. It's nothing much but it should serve to give Regis an opening.

"Should you happen to spill blood, I would be very grateful," he growls, closing his eyes to focus on shaping the resources he's taken from the land.

[lucere]

Leave it to Tonitrus to draw first blood. Regis's familiar is as vicious as they come. The thunderbird has a penchant for both trouble and violence, an ode to its less than humble nature. However, Regis cannot help but feel sickened by the beast's preference for violence. He's going to have to find a means of better controlling that monster or risk letting it cause more unnecessary chaos. Unfortunately, that's a thought for another day since these trolls must be dealt with here and now.

"Not a dragon?" Regis comments as stalks closer. While the dragon sounds familiar enough, Regis is hesitant to believe that this is indeed the young alchemist he met a few weeks prior. While he knows the study of alchemy is quite foreign at best, he never once thought the alchemist could merge with his familiar to create the nightmarish beast before him now. Just the thought alone is baffling, to say the least. However, Regis doesn't have the time to dwell on it.

Once the trolls fall to their doom, Regis is quick to seal the gap with a thick layer of ice he summoned. While he's not opposed to outright slaying them, Regis would rather try more pacifistic means of subduing them rather than letting Fonitrus eat its full.

"Must we shed even blood?" Regis questions once he's done sealing the chasm. "I will not object either way but surely there are other means of persuading them." Not according to Tonitrus, apparently. The familiar attempts to crack the ice by shooting several bolts of lightning at it. The thunderbird wants to kill but his master wants otherwise.

[emet_sulk]

Goodness. The old man's familiar has developed a punitive streak since they last met. Emet-Selch has to admit to feeling a tad disappointed that the trolls seem to have been taken care of so easily since he had been hoping to test the limits of this new ability. He can hear a few of them thumping the lids of their makeshift prisons and flips to a new page of his grimoire, swiftly sketching out a new circle.

"Is that your judgement as a king?" he rasps. The transformation has affected more than just his outward appearance it seems. "If you insist then I shall hold back."

His clawed hand hovers over his completed circle, bright yellow eyes watching and waiting for Regis' decision.

1

[gutteringlight]

Jophrey, for his part, is almost as surprised by Emet-Selch's transformation as the trolls. "Matron's tits!" he squeaks under his breath. His eyes are wide and staring at the sudden transformation, but his hands are already gathering and concentrating the aether surrounding them as if they have a life of their own. Someone's been practicing. "How in the hells did you do that?"

He interrupts himself with a shake of his head before the other man can answer. "Actually, never mind. Now!" The last word is much louder, the better to attract the trolls' glances. It was also Emet-Selch's cue to protect his eyes from the phosphorous-bright flash that explodes from Jophrey's hands.

"Your turn," he says above the roars of pain. "Make it quick, that won't stop them for long."

[emet_sulk]

He cannot help but wince when the flash of light goes out, even with the warning. Shaking off his unsettled feeling in his chest, he channels his greater reservoir of magic into the circle on the page before him. The nearest troll howls as the bones in its body twist out of shape, forcefully wrenched out of its body to make a grotesque parody of ceramic. Deprived of internal structure, the troll collapses in place, still alive but somehow also...deflated.

The little row of bone-white cups and saucers on the ground though is rather impressive.

[gutteringlight]

Jophrey makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he watches the spectacle in horror. And that's before he realizes the poor bastard is still alive. His skin goes ashen and his hands shake as he brings the aether to bear again, his concentration fraying and scattering his magic in a shower of weakly glowing motes. He squeezes his eyes closed, concentrating on the construct rather than the former troll's horrific moans.

There.

A glittering, transparent javelin materializes and leaps from his hand faster than the eye can follow, embedding itself in the creature's brain. A mercy, all things considered.

[emet_sulk]

Truth be told, even Emet-Selch is feeling sorry for the troll. He's almost glad to see it put out of its misery, sighing before he looks to the others.

"Unless you would like to meet the same fate, I suggest you scatter and do not return," he says firmly.

To their credit, most of them seem inclined to do just that. But there'll always be one overly brash fool who thinks they can smash faster than their smaller opponent. Said fool roars and charges at Emet-Selch and Jophrey, swinging a hefty-looking broadsword.

2

[angel_of_death]

It is a quiet evening, for the most part. Out again, as is his penchant for the darker hours, Walter ambles in the direction of the Dusklight Woods, his mind filled with curiosity over the notice posted to the QuestBoard. The thought did occur to him to contact someone to go along with on this simple exploration, but it being such a simple task without record of violence, he has ended up going on his own.

Walter is quite deep in his thoughts when he is suddenly broken out of them with the sound of a shout. The voice, he realises, is a familiar one, leading him to hasten in the direction from where it comes.

It is approximately two minutes later when he finds the man.

"I thought I heard your voice," the boy comments, pushing past the overgrowth. There are a lot of eyes, he notices. Pairs of this colour and that dot the nearby landscape, watching.

[emet_sulk]

He twitches and spins about quickly, breathing hard, eyes wide. He's ready to curse Walter for being another pair of staring, unblinking eyes but holds his tongue seeing the physical body attached.

"...Are you here to investigate as well?" he manages to get out.

[angel_of_death]

Well, he certainly looks like he's had better nights, Walter thinks on seeing the man's reaction. "I am."

After a moment, he adds, "You don't look like you're having a good time of it. Is something messing with you?" He hadn't heard of any attacks happening, but that wasn't necessarily going to be the case forever.

[emet_sulk]

"No... No, but these things will not stop staring!" he grinds out, fists clenched and shoulders hunched defensively. "I've not seen a single one emerge. They cower behind the trees and do naught but watch."