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

[emet_sulk]

"I would take his worries, his doubts, his guilt. I would take it all and grant him purpose again." This cold, lofty Hades regards his flesh and blood counterpart with disdain. "He has lost his way, but our lord and saviour, Zodiark, will set him on the correct course again. His work is unfinished."

The shade seems unperturbed by Hythlodaeus' anger.

[weenwoon]

Hythlodaeus simply watches the shade for a while without replying, his breathing still coming purposefully measured. He still feels furious, of course, but at whom or what should it be aimed? The shade, too, is only a part of his friend; where else would it be drawn out from other than his own psyche? If this is how Hades feels...

Hythlodaeus combs his fingers through his friend's hair shallowly as he tries to think, still keeping the Architect in his sight.

"No. Though you may have tried to fashion yourself into one, Hades, you are not a tool to be used and discarded. And those worries and doubts and guilt are not yours to take, but mine - as his and your oldest friend, the chief of your Bureau."

[emet_sulk]

The hand gripping Hythlodaeus' shirt shakes him slightly. "You did nothing wrong," he says hoarsely. "I approved the means to save our people. I helped make Elidibus into the heart of our new god. The responsibility for our people's salvation...falls to me. To all of us that were in the Convocation then."

Wracked by quiet weeping, he clutches Hythlodaeus like a lifeline. "I would not wish this burden on anyone, least of all you. Given the choice...I would rather you have never known the cost."

[weenwoon]

Hythlodaeus hugs his friend closer, as though trying to shield him, runs his hand through his hair soothingly. Despite his outer calm, conflict still rages within him; anger at their fate, horror at what Hades has done over those twelve thousand years, refusal to lie to his friend just to soothe him - because that would just hurt them both more, very shortly, - the bone-deep love and devotion he feels towards the man. All of it becomes a thorny tangle, maybe impossible to unravel. The best he can do is the best he can.

"...Of course you would. And I know that I would wish to keep you ignorant, too, had our places been switched. But I tell you once more, Hades - you are my friend before you are the Architect. And you cannot forbid me to share this burden with you. You know full well how stubborn I am."

He rests a hand over Hades's, fingers curling over his friend's protectively.

"I made you a promise, Hades, and I stand by it even now. Even here. I'll walk with you and face your deeds. Judge you and scold you, decide your penance, but not leave you."

Hythlodaeus breathes out, shakily.

"I'll not lose you again either, you old fool."

[emet_sulk]

It's more reassuring than Hythlodaeus knows to have this affirmation of love. Hades hadn't thought he would have to confront the open judgement of his kin, but this is enough. More than enough. He's just not sure there is any penance that can make up for what he's done.

He trusts Hythlodaeus though. He would trust his friend with his life. He just doesn't know if this all isn't some delusion meant to test him.

Taking in a deep breath, he cups his friend's face and kisses them gently. Then he takes their hand and starts to walk onwards, further into the cave. He keeps his gaze fixed on the ground, unable to make himself look at the bodies or at Hythlodaeus' corpse.

As he passes the Architect, they leave him with a parting jab.

"Remember that you have already failed once. What makes you so sure that you won't fail again?"

His breath catches and he breaks into a run, fleeing past them and the altar, fleeing well into the darker depths of the cave with Hythlodaeus hopefully still behind him.

There is no sprite to greet him. Only pressing darkness. Eventually he slows and releases Hythlodaeus' hand, clutching his head instead as his quiet weeping echoes against the cave walls.