catchall

[damnpire]

WHO: d & others
WHERE: around the netherworld
WHEN: oocly, month of oct
WHAT: a catchall for me for different threads during oct
WARNINGS: will update as needed

Log Post ¤ Plotting Post

Comments

rosa ¤ serene, tea hunting

[damnpire]

[jiji moon is in the image for serene which is hilarious

D is already waiting for Rosa when she arrives, standing like a dark and out of place statue. Serene is much too colorful for him as a backdrop, but something about the gentle air of the place somehow matches his quiet nature.

He turns his head toward her and nods under the hat in greeting. Hello.]

[declass]

[ help. jiji is always here.

when she spots him, she waves cheerfully enough before closing the distance between them. she, at least, does not look out of place at all. but it's easier to blend in when you aren't intimidating. ]

I hope you didn't have to wait for too long.

[ she came as quickly as she can, but it still requires some getting used to navigating here. ]

[damnpire]

I don't mind waiting.

[After living for, like, ten thousand years, even waiting several hours is really a drop in the bucket for him. It's nothing. A blip of time, like a second.

He allows her to catch up to him before he turns to walk on, leading the way. His gait is slow and without any hurry. Like all he has is time.]

What kind of tea are you looking for?

[declass]

[ thinks about serene on fire. anyway.

she has to think about the question though... most of the teas she's really used to getting would probably be far from possible from them. too expensive, or the climate isn't quite right. ]

... something soothing, maybe. Herbal?

[ that's generic enough. ]

[damnpire]

[thinking about it not only being on fire, but there being soothing herbal tea at the party............. this truly was them doing so much for nothing]

Alright.

[He's not sure whether Rosa has any kind of innate physical abilities, but she is free to use them as she wants or needs. He follows his nose, searching for something herbal. However, without knowing really any of the flora here, he is left to blindly pick through the scents.]

I've met your coworker.

[declass]

Oh! Did you? How did that go?

[ she wants to not be too nosy, since it seems rude to get into shalem's business, but rosa is invested in making sure he has an easy time getting along here... there are so many gloomy people (she is talking to one of them right now). ]

I do hope you got along, although that's a selfish want on my part.

[damnpire]

It was okay. Their name was Shalem.

[Just in case she has more coworkers running around or something. He does not know if it was a man or a woman because it was through the ridiculous Soul Tinder.]

They seemed concerned for your well-being.

[Me hoping the thread doesn't just randomly turn very sour for some wild RP reason, and I have to figure out how to retcon this all.]

[declass]

[ it would be funny.

but she nods her her. she isn't entirely sure how to feel about that. on one hand, it's nice to know that shalem seems to also be looking out for her like he said he would. on the other... it feels like a kindness that's undeserved. ]

I see... thank you for telling me. Do you know anyone else here?

[damnpire]

[I refuse to look at you dropping the hints about her terrible depression. I can’t take it.]

I don’t.

[It does not sound like he is upset about this at all. Of course he isn’t. He knows about as many people back home as he does here, honestly. Personally anyway.]

laurent ¤ radiance, parliament house

[damnpire]

[Not the first or last time D will just be waiting in gentle stoicism for other people. If he's out of place with Rosa in Serene, then he's extremely out of place here in Radiance, especially outside the limits of the guarded palace building. The whole of him stands out like a sore thumb.

In a fashion Laurent will understand, D is strangled from head to toe in clothes. The only thing visible is his ghastly pale and beautiful face caught between a striped scarf and hat and the ends of both hands. The bulk makes him look older and stronger, but his face betrays where in time his physical youth is caught.]

Hello.

[wrists]

[ it's freeing, in a way, to sneak about in a manner decidedly improper for a young veretian prince in line for the throne. though he's swaddled in dark clothes, everything about his choices are, as always meticulous — finer fabrics, so that he doesn't stand out as a beggar in radiance, layers and hidden pockets to conceal his extra coin and the dagger snug at his hip, a hat perched at a jaunty angle to hide his yellow hair but doing little else in the way of stealth. laurent greets D with a coolly assessing glance, his eyes moving from head to toe. ]

I can only assume you dressed with the intention of being very antisocial tonight. You might've tried to look more kingly.

[damnpire]

[It doesn't seem to bother him when he's appraised. He looks back at Laurent with full attention without looking Laurent over, though he isn't modest about meeting Laurent's gaze.

In a surprisingly quiet and level voice, he says,] I'm not a king.

[The outfit has more professional merit, but he doesn't try to justify his fashion choices.]

There are a lot of guards.

[wrists]

[ neither are you is what the disquiet within him says, now that it's seemed to have acquired a voice of its own. not a king, never will be — his bid for the throne will fail, his uncle will likely parade him naked into the streets and cut his throat, and he would never have been able to fill auguste's shadow anyway.

gaze impassive — ] A lot of opportunity, then.

[ this is a canvassing endeavor, above all, but laurent eyes the guards with a suspiciously thoughtful look, as if they're just more pieces in a game he's playing. ]

Do you think they can be bribed?

[damnpire]

A lot of risks.

[Ever so slightly, he turns to follow Laurent’s gaze inward again toward the building. From here, only a few of the guards can be seen making rounds, or stopped and poised in their paths. But D said there was a lot of them.

And there are. He can hear them, their footsteps and movement, but also the beating of their hearts.]

It’s a waste of money. [By now, he assumes Laurent is going to say something about cocksucking, so he adds:] And time.

Are you sure this is what you want to do? If we are caught, I can’t spare you from whatever punishment they decide to give.

[wrists]

I didn't hire you to be my personal guard. [ a sidelong look. is this concern? he hasn't bothered to inquire about whatever set of morals that D may happen to live his life by, because they will no doubt prove to be inconvenient at the worst times. he's likely no better than damen, attempting to rein laurent in and lessen his effectiveness due to some misplaced desire for goodness. ] You don't like my dishonestly acquired coin anyway. Why preserve it?

[ easier to comment on the inconsequential bits rather than why D would be concerned about his wellbeing at all. that is uncomfortable and unwelcome. ]

I want to go up to the towers. Do you think they might take a prisoner there?

[damnpire]

But you did hire me. [One of his pale, long hands emerges from the edge of the cape in front of him, palm-up.] I don't get paid if you're captured.

Give me two coins.

[For up-front.

He doesn't turn to look at the building again; instead, he stands there like a dark sentinel, waiting.]

No. They would take you to the Gallows. [He doesn't know this for sure, of course, it's only an assumption. He thinks this place is too fancy for prisoners to be not only so near, but so high above the rest.] But you may end up in one of the towers later.

As a soul, keeping it secured to this plane.

[wrists]

You're to deliver the layout to a little bird named Aspen if I get captured. [ he drops the dull coins into D's waiting palm, avoiding contact. he doesn't mention that D will get paid even in the event of his capture — no reason to allow him to think such a tragic event is of little consequence. ] They won't want my soul, and judging from the little I know of you, no one wants yours, either.

[ a statement based on absolutely no factual information. laurent adjusts his hat and slips amongst the trees, light on his feet as he makes note of the various openings of the palace, windows he could possibly scale and ones he most certainly could not. ]

Your concern would be better suited elsewhere. This is what we'll do. I'm going to have a fit and fall into the fountain. The guards will come retrieve me. Use the distraction to enter the palace and steal away to one of the high towers, preferably a lesser used one, and leave the windows unlocked from the inside. Obviously, don't let anyone see you. We don't want them locking them before we return with our bird.

cedrik ¤ mirth, harvest hunt

[damnpire]

[D had mostly gone into the maze to look around, nothing more. Many of the other people enjoying themselves shriek and race away from him despite his slow walk; his look alone surprises and frightens them.

This normally doesn't bother him. He's spent a very long time taking the brunt of othering from humans on the Frontier. In fairness, it isn't the fear here that bothers him. The longer he walks around in the maze, the more the fear seeps into his bones and incites him. No. It incites the Shadow within him, the one thirsty for violence and domination.

A scent comes to him through the corn. He's never smelled it exactly, but the edges of it remind him of... the dander of a rabbit? He can't say with certainty who it is, but thinks he may know if only because of the soulmate app's profiles. This incites him, too. He stops for several long moments in attempt to compose himself. The Shadow and Left Hand's voice are both a deafening cacophony, and he's irritable. The harder he tightens his jaw, the longer he can feel his fangs grow.]

D! [the croaky voice barks.] Get a hold--D!

[He takes off through the peeled apart tunnels of the corn, eyes shining in the dark like carnelian.]

[heavenstorn]

[ 'Hunt' or 'Flee', there'd been no role offered for a guardian. Probably that would likely have gotten messy in a hurry, even if it's only a game. So Cedrik chose to join the runners, lingering at the end of the initial pack until it scattered through the various turns and tunnels. The trouble is, he's no longer sure how long ago that was...

His Shadow has started making a nuisance of itself.

Let them all go ahead so you can play the sacrificial lamb? Again? ]

It wasn't like that.

[ Talking to himself is never a good sign. Cedrik stops in the middle of a long 'hallway', pressing the heel of his palm to his brow, angrily hissing at his own darker thoughts.

Wasn't it? You hated watching them leave. 'Don't look back.' But when you're the one left behind, it's a--

A rough, distant voice interrupts him. Someone calling for D? Even the Shadow falls quiet as Cedrik turns, long ears pointing him towards the source. At the far end spots the dark figure turn the corner, coming for him, red eyes fixed. The Shadow sees its chance.

You knew it! You KNEW it! You can't trust him!

Once more the unfamiliar fear wells up in Cedrik's chest, seizing him by the throat. He shouldn't run, he never runs--

Cedrik turns and bolts. ]

[damnpire]

[A small, more coherent sliver of him wishes Cedrik wouldn't have run. Whatever is in him--no, he knows what it is, his Shadow--becomes riled at the sight of prey fleeing. It's very much like the Noble side of him, and it frightens him, if he's honest. Not being a vampire, but not being able to control the bloodlust.

His body moves without his consent. He sprints after Cedrik, too fast and too graceful, fangs growing long, scent turning sharper. A heavy, icy, powerful weight swells up as darkness behind him, chasing the edges of him, following him. The corn stalks he passes quickly shrivel and wither away, becoming husks. Any lingering foliage on the ground grows dark as it dies.

The deep, prideful voice in him cheers him on over the sound of the old one pleading with him to get a hold of himself.]

[heavenstorn]

[ It doesn't make sense. Why would D be a threat, isn't it meant to be a game? But the question doesn't have time to find purchase, swept away in the rush of adrenaline and fear as instinctive as it is wrong.

His own Shadow's gone quiet, no longer merely goading but seeping into his limbs and lungs. It embraces the same fear it inflicts, forcing Cedrik to keep running, to look back and see D closing in and the destruction left in his wake. More death. Endless and inescapable. He's not immune, no one is. Why pretend to be brave?

Between the roaring of his own heart, the rapid beating of running footsteps, and the old man shouting at D it's impossible to hear anything else. Even the other presence, usually so close and familiar, goes unnoticed, struggling to be felt at all.

The first turn Cedrik takes he realizes the futility of it. These walls are a suggestion, there’s nothing to keep D from cutting a line straight through to kill him.

There’s nothing keeping Cedrik from doing the same to escape.

Rather than turn again, the viera raises an arm and crashes through the next wall of the maze, husks fraying behind him. ]

[damnpire]

[With the power of what he usually keeps clamped tightly away behind him, D is much too fast. Cedrik dives through the corn, and D bursts through it parallel. He chases the other man at the side, catching up, closing the distance until they are running together a few yards apart.

Not watching the front, he has his head turned, glowing red eyes trained on Cedrik. His usual placid, quiet voice now has a dark, heady roll; it's deeper, commanding.]

Give up.

[He veers suddenly toward Cedrik, leaping away from the ground and throwing himself across in a pool of black and flurry of cape. The long fingers reach out, grabbing Cedrik's upper arms like talons, digging the nails in. All of his weight crashes into the other man, sending them careening through stalks of corn into the dirt. He opens his mouth wide, baring the fangs.

The Shadow is ecstatic. This is how it should be! it cackles. The right way! You're his success! The top of the line! The end all, be all!

The croaking voice, which sounds so close to Cedrik, like it's D, but not D, yells:] Snap out of it! Is this really how you're going to let it end, D?! [And he

hesitates.]

[heavenstorn]

[ He's never heard D speak before yet it still doesn't sound right. It doesn't fit at all with the wise and comforting words he'd read only a few days ago. It's something arrogant, "noble", and Cedrik hates what it reminds him of.

He's right.

D is far, far too fast for the warrior of light. Before he can react, before the Echo even gives him a glimpse of warning, the dhampir pivots and lunges, knocking him clean off his feet.

You should.

Crashing into the ground knocks the breath from his lungs, making his pained cry weaker as he feels skin break and bleed. D's grip feels like it could break bone if he struggled against it.

Why bother? It's over.

Feeble instinct wars with the Shadow's weight. The glint of teeth in the dark, long and sharp and close, prompts an animalistic struggle. Fingers curl and clutch at D's arms, heels dig into the dirt to push away. All the while the damned Shadow all but croons in Cedrik's mind.

Aren't you tired?

As if in answer, the old man's voice reaches Cedrik in the same moment it seems to reach D. For a beat there is only silence that the Shadow fails to fill, and in it, finally, there is another.

CALL ME.

Wisps of shadow pool at Cedrik's chest and he reaches for it, drawing it forth in the space between them.

It's warm in his hand. ]

[damnpire]

[The hesitation is long enough for him to fold back into himself. He actually looks visibly surprised to find himself here like this, above Cedrik, grasping, losing his mind. The expression grows a little more steely again.

Quickly, he recoils, drawing his arms away, leaning up and back, far from the warm shadows. He starts moving, pulling himself apart from the other man, getting up in a swift, guilt-ridden stand. He isn't fast enough, or maybe he is fast enough and it simply doesn't matter.

A sepia-colored memory pours into Cedrik. D still stands above when it's over, looking down. He's aware he should be gone, that he should have left, but this feels like there hasn't been closure.

He needs to make sure Cedrik is alright.]

[heavenstorn]

[ As suddenly as it began, it ends. D...releases him, and steps back. But the call's already been made. The darkness pulses in Cedrik's hand before vanishing. ]

Wait--

[ And then, with the terrible timing it so often has, the Echo has something to show him. Cedrik feels the familiar pulse of pain behind his eyes, the sharp ringing in his ears as everything begins to fade away, the memory taking him someplace far, far away from here.

The darkness reemerges, rising from the ground and taking the form of a man in full armor and a wielding a massive blade on his back. Golden eyes fix on D with an unspoken fury--but Cedrik said 'wait'. He's always been a fool that way. The figure moves not to attack but stands ready, putting itself between D and Cedrik's prone form, the message obvious. ]

...

[ The memory feels like an age. It shows Cedrik a boy, one he recognizes immediately, and patiently shows every torture inflicted upon him, every meticulous effort to make him break.

In reality it's not even a minute, just enough seconds for the silence to drag before Cedrik returns to the present with a sudden exhale. His body aches but he's been through worse, the pain isn't why his eyes are wet.

The dark figure is...struggling. Maintaining a solid form is unexpectedly difficult, but it holds on as long as it possibly can, only beginning to splinter and fade away as Cedrik starts to get back up. ]