#//Other than that; there are plenty caves and domains to hide out at until he calms down

[dutybcrne]

When Kaeya is upset with someone he loves, truly upset and seriously hurt, he tends to storm off immediately. And completely vanish from their radars. Whether it's two hours or even days.

A trail of ice-laced footprints is all they'd have to track him immediately after the fact, but after a time, not even Mond's best could hope to find him if he doesn't want to be found.

#hc; kaeya #//He doesn't ever actually leave Mond at these times #//The furthest he's gone is heading right to Dragonspine; actually #//Right up to the peak; or as far as he can go. But that's only if it was Really Bad #//The main reason no one can find him is bc he takes advantage of his little teleporting trick to mess up any trail he may leave #//Makes any indications point to him headed for the Winery; but uses that trick to make his detour. Like the Dragonspine bit #//Taking a detour near the snow-covered path by strictly traveling via water (seeing ice there would be normal anyways) for good measure #//Would end up Southeast; just shy of the Emtombed City's Hidden palace; if not further down #//Other than that; there are plenty caves and domains to hide out at until he calms down #//If asked; he will say he needed to clear his head on the shorter bouts #//And the longer ones; that he ran into trouble and needed to deal with it. And lost track of time #//Sometimes it's true; especially when he finds his way into a domain; and the Abyss starts tugging at his consciousness #//and messes with him so bad; his emotions prompt him to recklessly try and clear it himself; as though to blow off steam #//Has had equal times of success & getting his ass brutally handed to him & having to make a hasty retreat. It's gotten p close sometimes #//There was only (1) time he actually did show up to the Winery #//And that was after a particularly bad argument with Diluc; soon after he'd returned to Mond #//Left the tavern abruptly and tried to get into his old room; almost got shot by Addie who heard him breaking in. Got yelled at for it #//Then tended to after. He confided in her nothing but truth; but not ALL of it; that is to say; he said he was worried about Luc #//Esp coming back from Snezhnaya; even cried a little in her arms. but never mentioned Exactly that it was a fight that brought him here #//Stayed only for a bit; but the Moment he heard Luc come back; he fled. Heard commotion from downstairs & the moment Addie left to check #//He was out his room's window & teleported as far out & away as he could before trying to run back to Springvale w/out hurling on the way #//He does this bc he Fears saying something he Knows will hurt enough to regret #//Bc he thinks they might WANT him gone in that moment and gives them space accordingly #//They won't up and leave him if HE'S the one who makes his retreat first; right? Makes sure THEY don't feel the need to on his account #//They can say otherwise all they like; but the moment the anger's That clear in their eyes; his heart grows icy with dread #//And mind spirals enough to make him up and leave; either abruptly or with a stiff 'I need a moment'. But he needs OUT immediately #//Them being the ones to find him before he's calmed down & ready would always make it worse; unfortunately #//Bc then it starts up his mind spiraling all over again; esp since he'll inadvertently feel cornered by them. & act accordingly #//He WILL try & act as though he Didn't just do that to try & segue back normalcy; it's wiser to gently talk him through how it's not ok #//It might not stop future bouts during serious fights; but at least it can resolve things from this one bc he'd be willing to talk it out

[liott-monar]

A memory returned.

“Oh dear, thank you, you’re such a sweetheart.”

A sound that felt familiar yet alien. A feeling palpable yet when when you reach out and grasp with all your might, with every expectation to experience something... nothing but the gross sweat of your palm could be felt. It was like that at first, always has been for countless moons. Moons that filled the gap between having everything and then remembering nothing.  

Yet with with just one phrase, what started at as a blank chalkboard with nary a speck of dust, cracked. Like a tidal wave, a small segment of that canvas flushed with colour. A child’s scrawling of things that happened, things that were and things that still are. Every feeling, every note from pain to joy, crashed down like lightning... as if some invisible, unknown force had just swung hard and cracked a bat right at the back of the poor dwarf’s head. Oh, how it hurt.

Mam’ loved to say that. To her, her daughter was the sweetest and most treasured of them all. A child that bore all the talent of her brothers plus more while unaware, yet never attempted to take even a small step forward in fear of hurting that which she cares most of all. In fear of simply being hated for being better at something and instead took the role of being a jester among the family, a joke that always took the lesser role in order to make others shine brighter. It was the lowest job within her tribe, yet for her it was still one of enjoyment. What better way to make another dwarf shine than to brew the finest drink known for malms around? A sweet, pleasant and easy to down drink that was so potent that few outsiders could handle a full glass without falling over? To her, it was a dream, to her people an amusement. 

But in a single night it all came crashing down. 

A traveller merchant attempted to climb the steep walk to her home, but heeded not the warnings from the foot’s folk. The path to Monar was not one for tall folk, especially a Hume like him. He broke his leg on the way up, yet somehow managed to arrive with no other injuries and called out for any help. The other dwarves mocked him, the folk of Monar are a sturdy and powerful folk and to see a Hume fail even the easiest of climbs was a grand place of mockery. The role of getting him fixed up so he can descend was given to Liott, not one other wanted to waste time with someone so fragile and the sight of two weaklings trying to help each other was amusing to say the least. The only comment they made was that the Hume must never peer inside their homes, for that was their realm of safety and no outsider deserves to enter such a holy domain. And thus Liott did her best to help the poor man, bandages and apologies plenty. He seemed unfazed by the lack of welcome, his job took him to places that loathed merchants and their endless greed. Neither was she, a child brought up by the idea that being strong means being better, until she tripped over and cracked her mask on the solid ground. Fearing the worst, she gave her apologies and dash to her home to find another before the mask broke apart in her hands. They were not sturdy things, thin enough to not block a metal helm but more than enough to hide that which should never be seen to outsiders. Finding one wasn’t easy. Oh how her brothers loved to make a mess, throwing everything they owned around and causing goodness knows how much problems along with it. She just needed a mask though, any would do for now, and from dresser to drawer she would search high and low.. until she heard a voice. 

“Are you alright?”

Liott scrambled, desperately finding another mask. She hated the idea of making people wait for her, a person that’s too weak to do anything right. She calls out that she’ll be there in a moment and that she is just looking for something, then returns to panicked silence. Dresser to drawer to shelf to wardrobe and back again, yet not a single dwarven mask in sight. There was one, she knew of it and her brothers always had at least two spare, yet they somehow all just disappeared the instant she desperately needed them. Cupboards to crates to boxes and chests she wildly searched high and low until the growing mess finally caved and she fell atop a pile of dishes, knocking them aside with a ungodly crash. She could barely get up from the plates that shattered on the floor along side whatever remained of her mask. The poor thing could not hold up any longer, especially with a fall like that. She tried to clean it up will all due haste, but in the moment she did not hear the Hume call out again... until it was all too late. 

“You’re taking your ti-- Goodness are you alright!?”

Liott looked over to the source of the voice and met eyes with the one thing she did not want to see. The merchant who should of been sitting away from the entrance, who was horrified by the chaotic mess only comparable to a primal’s wrath, locked eyes with the poor dwarf... and in an instant a shriek so loud... filled to the brim with despair echoed into the night. Something far worse than what Liott saw as the worst case came to light.

The flood of memories magnetically snapped to that which she already knew perfectly. Flawlessly. With not a single nick or scuff to them.

That... was that. The rest happened as any dwarf would expect. The others ran to Liott’s aid, saw the commotion... and tradition tainted. He was thrown out in an instant, without a single care of whether that man could even walk back home. They cared not. Some even prayed that he never made it back down the mountain.

But for Liott, there was no exceptions. It doesn’t matter if it was in their own home, despite all warnings and all attempts made to prevent such a catastrophe. There were no exceptions. Perhaps her people were finally glad to be rid of such a weak element. The shame among the crowd, the odd, incorrect element amongst all that they saw was right. There were no goodbyes, no attempts for her to stay, not even a single tear shed at the loss. She was gone that night. 

She could never return home. Even if she wanted to, more than anything else.

#[a dwarven memory] #[a little friend called Liott] #hello my name is Rena and I like to make myself cry

[remember-the-mole]

The Forgotten King

-This is kind of like a fic, but not exactly written with the intention to be one, but please still read and enjoy! This is written with Jeremy as the main character, but has very light Joelay elements-  -To summarize this plot, There are five immortal kings, but Jeremy, a scholar in the domain of King Ryan, finds ancient texts that talk about a sixth king -- The king of Thorns. He sets off on a quest to find more information, if not the king himself (because after all, how do you kill an immortal?) and in the process ends up becoming the new sixth king himself-

-----

The five immortal kings ruled all of the land. Powerful beings that could crush the world in two, yet looked just like another person. The only thing that gave them away was the thrones they sat on and the look in their eyes that had seen the centuries. Despite their strength, they do not consider themselves gods. 

The people wonder, if the kings are not gods, then what IS a god?

The Dominion of King Geoff reaps the benefits of all the nations, having a cheerful cast over all of his land. If you aren’t hosting a party, you are at one. Drunken laughter can be heard at all times. They say the King himself has his own special liquor that has been branded it’s own elixir of life. However, the golden shimmering drink is only for his own lips. 

The Dominion of King Ryan takes an interest in the people. Often left to their own devices, things can get a little crazy, but somehow always end up playing right into whatever schemes Ryan himself has cooked up. He’s a master of wars that don’t exist, and plays with his own armies of people. There’s no better tactician than himself. History is well praised and kept in pristine conditions within his borders. There is a rumor that he’s working on a global scale project of some sort.  The Dominion of King Jack revels in charity. There is no greater honor than helping your neighbor. Food is in no shortage and the crops are plenty. Many older folk cross the borders to live in his dominion to live the rest of their lives. Rumor has it that Jack is able to harness the strength of the sun itself, and that’s how his crops grow even out of season. 

The Dominion of Gavin thrives in technology. While the technology speeds ahead, they don’t always understand their own creations or maybe how the rest of the world works. If you have an idea, it’ll come to life. Or maybe it’ll actually come to life and you have to blow it up. It’s a common thing in these parts. There are whispers on the lips of scientists that Gavin himself is working on a perfect-human replica- the intentions of which are unknown. 

The Dominion of Michael survives in it’s strength. One with the earth around them, the people are 100% self-sustained. Strength is measured in muscles and heart. You can throw a tree if raised here, but you are not of the nation if you have no love to give for your fellow person. Tournaments are held regularly, with no real prize. Just that you entered garners you praise enough. The final opponent has always been Michael. There has to this day, only one person to ever get him to bend a knee. That person is now his wife, Lindsay. Two rumors exist in his kingdom, that Lindsay runs the country, and that Michael caught a phoenix just for her.  Of course this is all common knowledge for those living in this world. Boringly so. What Jeremy was after, was history. And in the Domain of King Ryan, he had access to that history. Because while the world always moved forward, and for the kings, a 100 years ago was just yesterday, there had to be something more. Had to be. all the books gave the same stories of how the legends say they each came to the throne, the wars that happened near millennia ago, to the occasional skirmishes of ego that happen today.  They kings are not infallible. Immortal, yes, but not perfect. Their memory can’t be counted on for the past. Their oral history doesn’t match up with the written texts. Their perspectives are biased, and worst of all to the disdain of historians, they all hide things.  Jeremy had proof of their hidden history. An old barely even bound textbook that had been in his family for generations, written in a language long forgotten. The pages had begun to fade and tear over the years. The hand-written ink barely legible at times. Only recently had his studies brought him on a search to bring different old languages together to finally weave together a semblance of a translation.  The book, what he could make of it. Was a Journal of a time when such large creatures of current myth and legend walked the lands. Dragons flew high over the sky, and tiny fairies could be found in any home. It seemed the author was trying to find peace in a time where all the Kings had entangled themselves in war. A simple disagreement gone horribly wrong, or maybe something major. Jeremy couldn’t tell. But the disagreement seemed to stem from one thing: “The King of Thorns” 

There was no name that he could find of this king. But he, too, appeared to be an immortal king. The sixth and forgotten king. A grand historical breakthrough! One that Jeremy found himself excited and wanting to share his discovery with his fellow researchers, but knew he’d be laughed into oblivion if he dared share the concept of dragons with a ‘mysterious language only he could translate.’ 

Jeremy requested an audience with King Ryan. An easy enough feat for a man focused on the people. Their chat was held in one of Ryan’s many gardens. 

Jeremy didn’t waste time. “May I ask who the king of Thorns is?” 

“You may certainly ask,” Ryan chuckled, “but the answer is not that exciting.” 

“What is that answer? A myth? A reality?” 

“Certainly a person.” 

The back and forth goes on for awhile, until Ryan grows bored of their non-conversation. Eventually saying that for the current Kings, he is a hole in their hearts. A Traitor to some, a deserter to others, but “to me, he still remains someone that was my dear friend.”

Jeremy then takes it upon himself to find this forgotten king. A person that still remains, but time forgot. An immortal, made temporary by his own decisions. Jeremy’s search takes him to all the kingdoms, meeting with all the kings to ask him who this king of thorns is. 

Gavin, who’s face is in his own work and never looks at Jeremy, even when he pauses at the familiar title of the King of Thorns. An anger seeps into his usually cheerful voice, “No one. Someone that should remain forgotten.” He gripped his pen tighter and bit his lip to keep him from saying more. “Leave.”

Jeremy turned and walked away. 

The next king he met with was with Michael. Jeremy went in expecting a ferocious rage that had no equal. Instead, upon his inquiry, what he saw was a deep-seated regret that had not been settled. A quiet moment for the embodiment of an active volcano.  “He was someone that had his own wants and desires. A selfish man perhaps, but I wonder if he finally found happiness... Please go.” 

King Jack was all too hospitable to greet Jeremy. Always wanting to help, he was more than ready to face any question or task. Except for the very one Jeremy had to ask. A tear rolled down Jack’s face, as he tied to answer his question with a smile. “Before he was called the king of Roses. A good spirit. He made the land beautiful, but he also scarred it deeper than any of our hearts. His name was Ray.” 

Upon entering the dominion of King Geoff, Jeremy already knew that he was not welcome. The loud streets hushed in his presence, the people knowing of him and curious of what will happen to the man that’s asking questions he shouldn’t be. Geoff himself was waiting at the doors for Jeremy, not inviting him but not denying him either. 

“Go ahead, ask your question.” Geoff prompted, but was more of a command. Jeremy swallowed, “who is the king of Thorns?”  A crazed anger twisted Geoff’s normally easy-going smile into a terrible sneer. In the next moment, Jeremy had sword at his throat. “A fucking traitor to all those that loved him. Someone that left to pursue his own goals and put us all in a horrible war.”

After gathering his information, or lack thereof, he felt a calling. Like a ping in his brain beckoning him. He crossed all the borders and into what felt like an entirely other world entirely. Past his home and the lands he knew into desolate wastelands he was barely prepared to handle. Yet he kept going, following the call. His travels brought him to a mountainside what was crawling with vines and other flora that should not be growing in such a horrid place. Colors of the rainbow and flowers of all kinds bloomed happily crawling all the up to the peak. A large cave entrance was buried into the side with Roses of all colors spiraling around. Deep inside Jeremy wandered until he found something.

Found someone. 

A young man with a tilted, tarneshed crown on his head, sat against gigantic white stone that curved and filled the cave. The man looked tired and ragged. He had the gaze that looked into Jeremy and saw right through him, into every molecule of his body. The eyes that have seen years. Centuries. Times that Jeremy could not comprehend. 

“Are you... are you the King of Thorns?” 

“I am. Were you looking for me? Why?” 

“I felt like I had to. Like it wasn’t my choice.” 

“I see. Whelp. Guess it’s my time then.” The King of Thorns stood, and dust rained off his body like he’d been sitting there for 100 or more years. He patted himself off and clouds fluttered off of him. “Let’s make a trade, shall we?”

“What kind of trade?” 

“I tell you what you want to know, and you release me from this.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You’ll become the next sixth king.” 

“Why should I do that?” 

“You’ll become immortal. You’ll live to forever fill your curiosity, write your own history. And of course, give life back to this dead land that you crossed to get to me. Even if the rest of them don’t know who you are, they’ll have to accept you. You’ll make a name for yourself. And most importantly-- I’ll get to sleep.” 

“That almost seems selfish.” 

“I always have been.”  Ray patted the stone behind him and smile fondly. Only then did Jeremy realize that it wasn’t stone at all, but a large skeleton. A creature that had died and decomposed, leaving behind it’s only memory of ever existing. “This... was Joel. He was a dragon and a person. The only person that I found I could give my heart to. I wanted to take him as a lover, but the other kings told me that I couldn’t have both him and my kingdom. Because focusing on him would cause my own kingdom to fall apart. That’s just how things were back then. To keep your domain took tremendous power. I chose to leave the kings and be happy. It felt like the only choice I ever had.” 

“I see.” Said Jeremy. “You want to be with Joel again.” 

“More than anything.”

Jeremy sighed and thought back on his travels. All the people he met along the way, the problems that sprouted in the kingdoms despite the facade that everything was perfect. He could provide refuge to those people that none of the kingdoms can provide. Not a paradise, but a place to call home. A responsibility that he alone could handle. 

“I’ll become the next king.” 

Ray smiled, overwhelmed with joy, feeling the tears fall from his face. “Thank you.” He walked over and touched Jeremy in the middle of his forehead. “I now christen you the King of Color” 

It felt as though Jeremy was being awash with pure warm light that danced in circles upon his skin and entering his veins. He felt the power grow inside of him, as his body stopped it’s internal clock and set him to be what he is for the rest of forever. It was overflowing, the power, and he felt it in the ground, the air and in everything in existence. Jeremy made the wastelands full of life and color, a new thriving place to live. 

It was as though the people knew there was a new king. In a matter of days new people flocked to his kingdom and began building reshaping their lives into something knew, just like Jeremy had done with himself. 

The book on the King of Thorns closed, and the King of Color now reigned. 

#ragehappy #kingdom au #immortal kings #joelay #acindra