#opposed to this character who's ALWAYS had a malevolent and dark air to them

[mushroom-winners-proof]

Ok, if were using Billy Zanes Voice, then absolutely Ansem SOD jumps up that list, it compliments his titty out look. Billy Zane did so good with the voice, all academic and dark and really captured the characters essence. Richard Epcar does a good job dont get me wrong, but i feel he lost some of that academic feel.

i've made An Illegal Amount of posts talking about billy zane's ansem and comparing his work to epcar but yeah BIG agree

it's not that epcar is a bad voice actor- far from it he's voiced a handful of my favorite characters and he's done a wonderful job at that. but epcar's performance is like... it sounds lke he's voicing a totally different character if that makes sense

#snap chats #like epcar's cast type is generally very loud characters. the choice to cast him as ansem really was a strange one tbh #again he's not a bad voice actor by any means but his performance as ansem doesn't feel like ansem #that's not his fault yk billy zane set a pretty high bar #and his voice was pretty much perfect for the kind of character ansem is and the script he was given #zane always had a debonair feel to his line reads: he kepts it leveled and classy #and he always sounded certain of himself yet not overly pompous #his voice was also just smoother and not too deep compared to epcar #which really fit ansem's archetype as a researcher gone mad #opposed to this character who's ALWAYS had a malevolent and dark air to them #epcar always sounded too harsh to me? like you can tell he's trying to be quieter #but maybe its just because /im/ so used to his louder performances so its bizarre trying to hear him be more subtle #idk i went in-depth in comparing them in that audio post i made months back #and i think i said everything i needed to there #ima go rb it again lmaoooo. i have thoughts written on that post but there's also more stuff in the og tags #love how this ask was just saying that zane ansem WAS more attractive and i just did my bullshit analysis shit again #cant help it i love voice work immensely and i love ansem immensely

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 93

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 21 (Part 3)

Zheng Yan returns to the rear court stables at the palace on horseback. By the time he dismounts, it’s dark and murky outside, already close to the twilight hour, and a drizzle has begun to fall. Cai Yan is having dinner, with Lang Junxia sitting nearby.

“So?” Cai Yan asks.

“I spoke with Wu Du.” Zheng Yan sits down as well behind another table in the room. He picks up a cup filled with cold tea and takes a sip. “From what I can surmise, he probably doesn’t want to join the Eastern Palace. I already brought Benxiao back to him.”

Cai Yan doesn’t say anything, just keeps silently chewing his food.

“There’s a young man living in Wu Du’s house.” Zheng Yan adds, “Name’s Wang Shan — must have been the special envoy Chancellor Mu sent to Tongguan. If Your Highness intends to show Wu Du favour and give him this opportunity, you’ll need to devote some energy to this young man.”

Cai Yan hums an affirmative. Outside, a guard announces, “Your Highness, he’s here.”

“Tell him to please come in,” Cai Yan says.

Hearing Cai Yan use the word “please”, Lang Junxia turns his attention to the door with a slight frown. There’s a man standing there; emaciated bag-of-bones thin, around thirty-something, with malevolent eyes and rough skin. Dressed in a clean robe made out of peasant-cloth, his face covered with dark bruises, he comes into the room on silent feet, so briskly that he brings up a breeze in his wake.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” the man says, and with a flap of his sleeves he gets down on his knees to kowtow at Cai Yan.

“You didn’t tell me that he’s been pardoned too,” Lang Junxia says in a cold voice.

Contrarily, Zheng Yan already knew, so when he sees Feng he merely smiles without a word.

“And now you know, Wuluohou Mu,” Zheng Yan says to Lang Junxia. “His Highness is such a caring person. He was so worried you’d get angry and that’s bad for your health, you know.”

Lang Junxia ignores Zheng Yan’s taunt, and turns his gaze on Cai Yan. Cai Yan feels extremely awkward, and he coughs. “Feng, rise. That seat is for you.”

Cai Yan points at a seat to his right, placed at the end. Feng then salutes both Lang Junxia and Zheng Yan, “I’m the guilty official, Feng. Greetings, my lords.”

“All are guilty to a degree,” Cai Yan says, “Otherwise there’d be no need for virtuous sages. Since you’ve joined the Eastern Palace, work hard. Make each day count.”

Feng gives him a slight smile. Cai Yan bestows him a cup of wine, and Feng takes little sips from it. Outside the hall, a west wind starts to blow. A susurrus chorus of falling leaves whip by, filling the courtyard with what looks like blood.

An autumn breeze sends the leaves rustling, and the Silver River is glittering above. A dazzling array of lanterns has been lit all through the chancellor’s estate, shining on the banquet tables in the pavilion. Performers have been hired to put on a shadow puppet show, with music on the qin overlaid with lines of lyrics; graceful, nimble shadows play on a screen to tell the story of a wolf man in Jiangzhou during the Yu dynasty.2 Male crabs weighing half a catty each and female crabs just barely under that are served at the table, waiting in steamer baskets.

Mu Qing is watching the puppet show with quite a lot of interest, while Duan Ling is taking apart crabs for Mu Qing and they occasionally exchange a word or two. Wu Du on the other hand is picking out crab roe and meat with his chopsticks, setting it aside for Duan Ling, so that he wouldn’t go without eating as he’s busy waiting on Mu Qing.

“Is that for me?” Duan Ling says with a smile.

Wu Du gestures, go ahead and eat it, and Duan Ling takes it for his own.

“Sorry I’m late!” Mu Kuangda says with a smile. “With the matter of the capital’s relocation just settled, a lot of things are still up in the air and it’s taken up quite a bit of time.”

Everyone rises from their seats at once. Chang Liujun and Chang Pin, his martial and literati left and right hand, trails into the room behind him. It’s a clear show of respect for Wu Du.

“No harm done,” Wu Du says, “we were just watching a show. The wait wasn’t at all dreary.”

Everyone greets Mu Kuangda individually before Mu Kuangda says to Chang Pin, “Fei Hongde has pulled yet another vanishing act. If I only knew I’d have made Wang Shan wrap himself around his leg and brought him back here even if he had to drag him.”3

Everyone in the room starts to laugh. Mu Kuangda tells them, “Eat. Don’t worry about me. This banquet has always been an excuse to give everyone a nice hot meal in the name of welcoming you two back.”

Duan Ling smiles, “I presumed you would be too busy, Chancellor Mu, so of course I didn’t dare come yammering at you as soon as I got back.”

Mu Kuangda nods, and praises him, “You two did an excellent job. It is a great weight off my mind, and nothing should go awry in Tongguan for at least ten years. I brought it up in front of His Majesty today, and His Majesty quite appreciates your skills, Wu Du.”

Wu Du merely hms coolly before he says, “It’s all thanks to you, Grand Chancellor.”

The people present in the hall seem to have sensed the change within Wu Du as well, and they glance his way without saying a word. Chang Pin is the only one who smiles and says, “I often thought about travelling at Master Fei’s side when I was young, but since our separation ten years ago I haven’t heard from him. It’s truly fate at work that our young friend Wang Shan managed to meet up with him.”

Duan Ling says, “Master Fei is in excellent health.”

All previous communication Duan Ling had with Mu Kuangda was by written missive, and now, narrating the detailed account of what they experienced from the moment they reached Tongguan until the final battle, it sounds truly thrilling. But the credit for most of the strategising had been placed squarely on Wu Du in order to stop Mu Kuangda and Chang Pin from getting suspicious. Mu Kuangda is so absorbed he keeps nodding from time to time, while Chang Pin grabs a crab and starts eating, his gaze not on Duan Ling but on the puppet show.

Once Duan Ling finishes explaining the rough outline of what took place on their trip, Wu Du casually adds a few more details about the defences in Tongguan, as well as the opposing side’s strength and so on.

At the end Mu Kuangda says, “Wu Du, it seems you do have quite the talent in strategy, formation, leading an assault, and guerrilla warfare.”

“Probably learned it from General Zhao, right?” Chang Liujun, who has been standing to one side, says, “I suppose we should call that a swan song now.”

Mu Qing reads the words between Chan Liujun’s lines and huffs out a laugh. “Pfft!”

Duan Ling glances over at Wu Du, but Wu Du no longer places any importance on Chang Liujun’s provocations. He simply replies with a humble nod, and says, “It’s better than following a master for years on end without learning anything at all. I concede.”

It is Duan Ling, this time, who nearly spits out his food laughing. Wu Du hands another crab carapace full of meat and roe to Duan Ling, and says to Mu Kuangda, “I was just thinking that since the exams are coming up soon, if we didn’t hurry back it’d get in the way of Shan’er’s studies, and rushed back as soon as possible.”

“You’re a family man now,” Mu Kuangda says to Wu Du. “Seems the crown prince really does recognise your worth, though. When you get home you should really consider it.”

And so Wu Du stops talking.

“Speaking of which,” Chang Pin says, sounding rather amused, “The estate is about to write up invitations in preparation for the special exams taking place in the beginning of spring next year. We at the estate are exempt from having to take the provincial qualifying exams, and naturally with our young friend Wang Shan’s essay writing, he shouldn’t have to wait another three years — there’s no harm in him taking the metropolitan examinations directly. But we’ll need Master Wu to give us details as to the circumstances of his birth so we can write the name card in order to get him officially named under a teacher.”

Alarm jolts through Duan Ling’s heart, as he hasn’t expected Chang Pin to pull something like this. Duan Ling can feel that Chang Pin does have a mind to figure him out, but whether or not he suspects something odd in his identity — well that he can’t tell for sure.

But Wu Du has already thought of a way to counter this. He says to Duan Ling, “What’s your dad’s name again? I used to just call him Dage, Dage day in and day out, and now I can’t actually remember what his real name was.”

“Wang Sheng,” Duan Ling replies.

“Wang Sheng.” Wu Du heaves a sigh, and pauses briefly to sort out his thoughts. “Wang Shan lost his mother at a young age, and his dad was an apothecary who saw patients on occasion as a doctor. We met in Xunbei, and he often helped me track down rare ingredients. Wang Shan travelled all over the continent so he knew more than most other children his age anyway; his dad mentioned entrusting him to me more than once so he wouldn’t have to spend his life on the road. But back then I was living under another’s roof, I could barely take care of myself, so I didn’t have the energy to worry about those two.”

Duan Ling recalls his father. Even though Wu Du has fabricated the circumstances of his birth, bits of it here and there match up to his memories, and he can’t help remembering the past; all of a sudden he’s filled with emotions.

“A man who practiced medicine, who did good work and accumulated good karma to shade his descendents.” Chang Pin says, “Your dad must have been a good man.”

Duan Ling gives him a nod, and Wu Du starts to smile. He pats Duan Ling’s on the shoulder, and takes his hand, wrapping his own around it, fingers caressing his. A tenderness flows forth in Duan Ling’s heart, for he knows Wu Du isn’t putting on an act; he really is trying to encourage him.

“Kid’s always been charming.” Wu Du turns to the party and says, “People of all trades — soldiers, smiths, Cuju players, spirit mediums, tailors, opera singers — would choose to pass on some of their skills to him out of gratitude to his dad. As for how much he’s learned, that I don’t rightly know. There is greatness in his fate according to the fortune teller, and I’ve been told he’s not fit for marriage4 according to his father, and he said Wang Shan should just stay with me.5 As for his future, he left it up to me.”

“Then let’s hear it from you,” Mu Kuangda says, and he turns to Chang Pin. “Put him down as from a line of physicians, the Wangs, ancestral hometown of Xunbei. Physician is a proper vocation. We can leave out the rest.”

Chang Pin says smilingly, “Your new line of work can’t bring back the dead so it’s hardly the same, but instead of treating the ill you can treat the state — that’s not such a bad thing.”

Now those words have truly elevated Duan Ling too much, and he hurriedly expresses his gratitude towards Chang Pin and Mu Kuangda. Mu Kuangda casually pours a cup of wine at his table and brings it to Wu Du. “Have some mulled wine. It’ll help settle the coldness that comes with eating crab.6 You’re wounded, I know, so just stay in the estate and recuperate for the next little while. Once you figure out what you want I’ll give you more work.”

Wu Du knows that the crown prince has also raised his desire to recruit him in front of Mu Kuangda, and if it’s advantageous to the Mus, Mu Kuangda will of course want him to join the Eastern Palace. This way, no matter what happens, as long as he’s willing to inform the Mus, it would be akin to the Mus having a spy in the palace, and they’ll constantly have a grasp of what the crown prince is planning. And on top of that this spy would be Wu Du — master of poisons.

But what Duan Ling has in mind is another thing entirely. The crown prince has already tried to recruit Wu Du once, and if he believed in Wu Du’s loyalty, then leaving him in the chancellor’s estate as a henchman of Mu Kuangda’s would be far more beneficial — so why has he changed his mind now?

“I can’t drink anymore.” Wu Du waves the wine off. “This wine is really strong.”

Wu Du hands the leftover half cup of wine to Duan Ling, and Duan Ling drinks it. Mu Kuangda and Chang Pin will need to have a meeting later on in the evening, so Duan Ling and Wu Du cut the night short and head back to their house to sleep.

As they walk through the corridor that leads out of the Chancellor’s estate, Wu Du suddenly says, “Look.”

A river of silver cuts across the horizon, just visible above the alleyway between two roofs. They stop, both remembering the night of the Seventh of Seventh.

“Somehow I’ve forgotten to celebrate your birthday with you,” Wu Du says to Duan Ling. “I was fighting that day and forgot all about it.”

“My birthday is in the twelfth month,” Duan Ling whispers, “so let’s celebrate then.”

Duan Ling and Wu Du return to their rooms. They’ve both had quite a bit of wine, and Wu Du falls heavily onto the bed, staring at Duan Ling through drunken eyes.

Duan Ling can’t be bothered to wash up and change, and simply lies down next to Wu Du.

“Do you want to join the Eastern Palace?” Duan Ling asks.

There’s a brief silence before Wu Du answers, “Maybe I’ll be able to find some evidence regarding Wuluohou Mu and the crown prince.”

“I’d rather you stay at my side, and I don’t want us to part either.”

“Then I won’t go.” Raising a hand, Wu Du gives Duan Ling a light pat on the shoulder. He turns onto his side. They lie facing each other on the bed on their sides, looking into the other’s eyes.

“There’s still time. Chancellor Mu will ask you again after the metropolitan exams.”

Wu Du’s brows lightly furrow. “How’d you know that?”

“He needs to make sure you remain loyal to him, thus he’ll keep me in the estate and use me to control you.”

It becomes clear to Wu Du all at once. Now that he thinks about it, that’s highly probable. Mu Kuangda can tell the bond between them has strengthened, and all he has to do is guide Duan Ling, assist him, and take him in as a student. And in exchange Wu Du would become a retainer in the Eastern Palace, becoming an unseen agent Mu Kuangda keeps near the crown prince.

“But I haven’t been able to figure it all out yet.” Duan Ling is still a bit drunk. He puts his hand on Wu Du’s face. “Why is the crown prince in such a hurry to recruit you? His attitude isn’t the same as the way it was before.”

But Wu Du is no longer listening. There’s a redness in his cheeks from drinking, and his eyes are full of Duan Ling. There seems to be water in Duan Ling’s eyes, as bright as a pond reflecting a starry sky.

“Duan Ling.”

“Hm?” Duan Ling suddenly feels that if he has someone like Wu Du at his side forever, that’s a rather nice way to live. Just as Wu Du said in front of Mu Kuangda, he can’t get married — and the truth is, Duan Ling doesn’t want to get married either, otherwise his many secrets will bring them nothing but danger.

“In the future you’ll be the emperor. Don’t take what I said in front of Chancellor Mu today seriously. Someday, you’ll marry a beautiful Crown Princess-consort, and she’ll become your empress. You’ll have sons, grandsons …”

“I won’t marry.”

“You’ll have to remember me.” Wu Du says, slurring with drink, “remember that, tonight, you and I are lying on a bed in the chancellor’s estate …”

Duan Ling repeats, “I won’t.”

He’s already very sleepy. In his drowsiness a vague idea surfaces — he thinks of how the crown prince probably believes Mu Kuangda is about to poison him, and realises that he’s not safe, serves him right that he has to live with his heart constantly on edge like that; he thinks of how, just as his father had told him, a lot of people are going to stumble over each other to give him everything, but he still strongly believes that if someone wants to give him everything, of course he should give everything of himself to that someone in return …

In Wu Du’s embrace, he falls asleep.

Slowly, Wu Du closes his eyes, and with the faint scent of osmanthus mulled wine between his lips, he lowers his head and presses a light kiss to the bridge of Duan Ling’s nose.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

For more about the wolf man, read Yingnu. All I’ll tell you here is that it’s a tragedy involving treachery, poison, and betrayal. (Inappropriate, in other words.) ↩︎

This is your reminder that titles in the mouse-overs can be found on the reference page. ↩︎

It is generally believed that someone who’s meant for greatness tends to be a hex on those related to them, both by blood and by marriage. ↩︎

This 100% sounded like stay with him for life as in married. ↩︎

“Coldness” is just a TCM concept, and eating crab brings “coldness” which is why it’s usually served with ginger tea. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

[ofhelens]

HELEN WORTHINGTON: AUDITIONING FOR THE ROLE OF LADY MACBETH

oh boy. okay, so without rambling too much..........originally, i wasn’t going to have helen audition for anyone. why would she? with the possible exception of lady macduff, macbeth is full of characters who are totally unlike helen & anyone she’s played up-to-date. plus, the subject of the play is just a little too on the nose for her - and given her self denial at the moment, that isn’t a can of worms she’s looking to open. however, as i was writing this, it became clearer and clearer to me that helen playing lady macbeth would go really well alongside her general trajectory in the roleplay (downhill, like a damn roller coaster) and i could definitely see the “out damn spot” monologue playing well alongside some juicy orson reveal stuff :) also poetically...seeing “the ingenue” go from basically being the embodiment of an angel to playing one of shakespeare’s darkest heroines is...chefs kiss.

 it’s strange to say that my character surprised me...(because im writing them?!) but yeah...helen surprised me!! she’s absolutely terrified by the idea of playing someone who is a little darker, a little stranger - but that’s exactly why she should do it!! i also genuinely think it’ll help her grow as an actor, which is something i really want to see happen. helen is pretty mediocre - but she doesn’t have to be!!! the only way we can grow as individuals is by challenging ourselves - something i’m keen to see heidi make happen.

having said that, i am not ride-or-die for lady macbeth and do not expect her to be cast as her at all!! if orson was casting, helen would be lady macduff without a question (we stan a self aware queen!) - and now that she’s made that point explicit to heidi, i feel like the latter will be way more inclined to cast her as anyone-but-that. if not lady macbeth, i could definitely see her playing one of the witches. essentially, i just need helen to play someone with a little more meat, someone who is darker; meaning that as she tries to nail their characterisation, she’s forced to confront some ugly things about herself and almost deal with the darkness in a therapeutic way.

“Helen Worthington.” She had expected stepping out onto the stage to feel more poetic. There was supposed to be sorrow in finality, grief in endings. And this was it. This was the final time she would audition for a play as an Alderidge student - perhaps her final audition all together. Whilst her peers clamoured for the limelight, she would have been perfectly comfortable making this her swan song. A moment passed. “I’ll be auditioning with Cleopatra, Act 5, Scene 2.” She could still hear Zahra’s words of encouragement in the back of her mind, quelling any doubts.

A brief look of surprise crossed Heidi’s face, she glanced down at her paper, as if trying to match the person she saw before her with words on a page. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Alright...am I to assume you’ll be auditioning for Lady MacBeth then?”

It took a moment for Helen’s mind to make the connection. She shook her head firmly. “No - no...no. I could never play Lady MacBeth...she’s...” Too monstrous. Too big a part. Too much like everything I never want to be. Settling on diplomacy, Helen sighed. “I could never do her justice.” 

This seemed to interest Heidi. “Why not? Looking at your previous roles - “ She shuffled the papers in her hand “- you seem to have done a standout job with Celia. Lady MacBeth isn’t such a jump. Lines wise, at least.”

Helen shook her head, adamant that Heidi see what she did. “Playing Celia isn’t hard. She’s soft. Dreamy. And a character in a comedy.” 

Heidi frowned. “So it’s Shakespeare’s tragedies you’re opposed to? Or being challenged?”

She was so unlike Orson that Helen had to blink twice, just to be sure her senses weren’t tricking her. “No. I don’t like tragedies. Everyone dies. I love theatre because it’s an escape - because it’s a chance to live out someone else’s stories. But why would I want to live like...like Lady MacBeth? She’s a terrible person. She’s a monster. I’d hate to even feel an inch of who she is.” Because what if I’m good at it? What if it’s easy to become her? What does that say about me? About what I’ve done? 

“And being challenged?” A dog with a bone, Heidi continued to tug at the remaining loose thread. “Is it a fear of letting people down? Are you afraid that you’re not talented enough?”

Back against the wall, Helen was forced to confront some uncomfortable truths. The purest of which was this: she never had been challenged. Any malevolent thoughts were packed in dusty boxes at the back of her mind, never to be opened. She was practically adored by her peers. Orson had never dragged her out of her comfort zone. She had no idea what being challenged was like. All she knew was that she didn’t want it. “I don’t know.” She conceded, sighing. “I’ve only ever played Celias.”

“And you want things to stay that way?”

Helen closed her eyes. Her mind was awash with a thousand memories - hanging out with Chandler in between As You Like It auditions, kissing Jonah backstage, laughing with Harry, cooking with Julian...she didn’t want things to ever change. That was why she poisoned Orson, wasn’t it? So that they could stay in a glorious summer, where no one ever got hurt. “Yes. Why fix what isn’t broken?”

Heidi shot her a thoughtful glance and opened her mouth as if she was about to ask another question, before shutting it abruptly. “Alright Helen -” She said slowly, nodding. “The stage is yours.” 

Now nervous about her audition piece, about what it said about her and about whether she’d be able to deliver; Helen closed her eyes. She had never been to Egypt, never even left the country - but conjured the sensation of balmy evenings, a heart full of love and a crown weighing you down. “Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have immortal longings in me - “ Perhaps she and Cleopatra weren’t so different. She understood what it was to long for immortality of another kind. You could have even said she was desire itself. It was those parts of Cleopatra Helen chose to emphasise. 

Pretending to shuffle on a robe, Helen stared out into the audience. Cleopatra saw a kingdom.

“now no more the juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself to praise my noble act; I hear him mock the luck of Caesar, which the gods give men to excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: now to that name my courage prove my title!” The love between Antony and Cleopatra, Helen had decided, was ugly. It was brutal. It should not be celebrated. But she also thought she understood it - the sensation of being bound to someone, of loving them so intensely you would do unspeakable, regrettable, things in their name. If someone dared lay a finger on Antony, would Cleopatra burn them to the ground? Helen was sure she would. As she came to understand Shakespeare’s heroine, she began to lose herself in Cleopatra’s skin in a way she never had before.

Opposite her, but unseen by Helen, Heidi sat up a little straighter. 

“I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life. So; have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.” Her kiss brings death. It was a terrifying kind of beautiful. Against her better judgement, Helen’s mind began to wonder...to remember. A wine glass. A toast. Poison. A deceitful smile concealing burning hatred. Who was she to judge Shakespeare’s characters...when she had wrought such destruction...

Lips trembling, Helen paused - momentarily unable to continue with her performance. See, this was why she hated Shakespeare’s dark and decrepit creatures. They drew something carnal out of her...they overwhelmed her, threatening to seize her voice and take it as their own. To be on stage was to be exposed...and this was one reflection she refused to peer into.

Why did Zahra encourage her to use this piece? Did she know something? Or did she just want to see her falter?

Ten seconds later, she regained her composure. Her break did not go unnoticed by Heidi.

Kneeling on the floor, Helen took Iras’ imaginary body into her arms, cradling him as he took his last breaths. Childish and impulsive she may be, but Cleopatra had heart. She wasn’t wholly wicked. Maybe in her performance, Helen could find her a kind of redemption; a thousand years too late.

“Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, the stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world. It is not worth leave-taking.” Was Cleopatra brave to watch Iras take his last breaths? Was she a coward for letting Orson die alone? Panic’s familiar sensation threatened to take a hold of her. Breath quickening, her last sentence was slightly slurred as she raced towards the end, to the moment she could be done with Cleopatra, toss her aside and never wear her face again. 

Her story was not Cleopatra’s. She and Jonah were not Antony and Cleopatra. She was just a role. It was all make believe. 

“See -” Helen began, gentle, but sad. “There’s a reason I don’t get cast as the Lady MacBeth’s of the world.” 

Wearing an expression equal parts confusion and sympathy, Heidi returned her smile. “It’s not your fault you’ve never had an opportunity to dig deeper with your characters. Now that isn’t to say that his comedic characters don’t have depth - but it’s like the other side of a coin. If you want to excel as an actor, it’s important you learn how to play both kinds. Life can’t always be sunshine and rainbows.”

Why not? Knowing better than to vocalise her disagreement, Helen swallowed her words. Idealism never...carried well with people. They thought she was a child, head in the clouds, living in a world of fantasy. Had she been a crueller person, she would have asked them why they were so adamant to continue living in a world of grey. So instead, she nodded politely. “Thank you for letting me audition.”

"Thank you for coming in Helen. And props for choosing something we wouldn’t expect.” Glancing down at her sheet, she tapped her nails against the paper. “You still haven’t told me who you’re auditioning for.”

Her first instinct was to steadfastly refuse to audition for any of them - and let the chips fall where they may. Or even to ask to be moved down a year, to the third year’s comedy. “Orson would probably cast me as Lady MacDuff.” It was the only character she ever could have volunteered herself for. Domestic bliss, it was something she embodied easily.

“Well - “ Heidi said, inclining her head, “I’m not Orson.”

No, Helen thought, you’re not. May that be a blessing, and not my curse.

“Would you toss your hat into the ring for Lady MacBeth?”

No, Helen thought. Not a chance in hell. But then, betrayed by her mouth, she nodded. “I’d consider it.”

As she exited the stage, Helen couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she’d gotten herself into.

#this is literally the first thing i have ever...designed myself #em did all the thinking on the main graphics #ensembletask

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 24: Better the Devil You Don’t (Epilogue)

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Someone does right by Cadence.

note: And with that Bound by Circumstance is ended! I’ll start posting book 3, Bound by Choice, in a day or so! Book 3 is the only book in the series not based off of an existing Choices book, and follows the story of the Trinity in a series of flashback vignettes. Taylor and the Nightbound gang will return in book 4!

Also, Bound by Choice is currently in-progress, as opposed to books 1 & 2 which were completed at the time of posting. Once I catch up on the last chapters posted, my updating schedule will go to the weekly update my AO3 is on.

[READ IT ON AO3]

A few weeks later…

[TEXT]: hurry up [TEXT]: where r u??? [TEXT]: ur loss I’m not waiting [TEXT]: BUZZKILL!!! [TEXT]: pic.jpg

The picture does it — finally draws his attention away from his computer to where his phone screen changes from 01:07 to 01:08 as if to taunt him.

It takes Cadence a moment to realize the woman next to Kathy in her (blurry) self-taken photo is supposed to be Ivy. So used to seeing her true form in person — but glamours don’t fade on digital recording.

And who else do they know dresses like she’s always ready to attend a Victorian funeral?

In his friend’s defense Cade was supposed to be at the Shift over an hour ago.

She’ll hear his excuses and his apologies, pretend as though he’s committed the greatest sin in history — but come sunrise and sobriety he’ll be forgiven. The Nighthunter likes to make everyone think she’s the picture of cool nonchalance; the human equivalent of a cat.

But anyone who feeds strays knows just how affectionate cats can be when they so choose.

He shuts down his work, fighting the instinctual habit to leave most of it out and make his space look clean by pushing it to the sides of his desk — actually putting things back in their folders and boxes.

Tap-tap.

His head jerks up quick enough for his glasses to threaten flight. Working in this particular space for over a decade now, there isn’t anyone who doesn’t know about Odd Cadence and his odd hours; how he refuses to work in the daylight due to a debilitating allergy.

Even Gary from night maintenance wouldn’t bother.

Tap-tap.

He listens for a heartbeat. Can hear everything from the rush of water through old plumbing to the coo of pigeons scavenging on the outside Square.

Tap—

Isadora de la Rosa doesn’t get to finish her genteel knocking; pale hand hovering just shy of the taller vampire’s collarbone as he holds the door open.

She looks a little dumbfounded for him to have answered. That’s silly, though, since she was in his territory now.

The air is thick with a tension not felt since Mardi Gras those weeks ago. She looks ready to turn and leave without a word between them. He almost lets her.

“Izzy,” by way of greeting, and even though she now runs the dynasty her father built he struggles to call her anything but the petulant youthful human woman he first met her as, “I was just heading out.”

He gives her a chance; sees the opportunity for escape that flickers in her weathered eyes no longer young but no less defiant by nature.

Some people were just born ready to stand their ground. He always admired that about her.

“This won’t take long.”

One step forward, one step back. A familiar dance neither acknowledges as Isadora invites herself into his space. She’s not the oldest thing in the room by far, nor the most expensive. Still she commands the air around her to whisper softer, for the floorboards under her heels to wait until she passes to creak.

“Sure, come on in…”

She makes a point of trying to keep an arms’ length between her body and any clutter. He won’t apologize for it, not to her. She was half the reason he’s like this.

“I’m glad to see the Museum is treating you well.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s never met a de la Rosa good at small talk. He still hasn’t.

But she keeps trying. It’s hard not to cringe at every forced word, how she purposefully finds something to look at and mention; “New project, I see.”

Cadence doesn’t answer. She switches a black leather briefcase from one hand to the other; a poised woman’s version of shuffling her feet.

“You always were best kept —”

“I have somewhere to be.”

Her quirked brow says it all; how she definitely doesn’t believe him but calling him out on it is somehow counterproductive to why she’s here.

Why is she here?

Because the only reason he can conjure up has to do with the Coven, and the Council, and that’s why they’re enjoying nights like these at the Shift. To forget about everything that happened — to move on.

“Look, Izzy — if this is something that can wait, can it? I’ve got office hours tomorrow night—or hell, I’ll even come ‘round to the family house. But I do have somewhere to be, and I’m already late.”

When she takes stock of the room again he understands. It’s a tactic — and not a very good one — to allow her to think.

They’ve never been like this before. So why now?

It’s a brief flicker; blink-and-you-miss-it type. But Cadence doesn’t miss it — how Izzy stares at the chair claimed by Katherine in permanent marker.

“You’re going to meet her, the Nighthunter.”

“My friend Katherine, yes. Among others.”

“She treads dangerous waters in this town.”

It sounds a little too much like a threat for Cade’s comfort. Makes it a real effort to keep from letting it get to him.

“I think the same could be said for any hunter.” For Katherine, for Ryder.

“Yes, you would know,” she clasps the case handle with both hands over her front; a shield between them, “though this one — she’s different, isn’t she? She’s well-connected.”

Like he’s been fumbling around in the dark of his head — he finally finds the lamp chain and tugs. Lets the light flood through with an “Ah” of understanding.

So that’s what this is about.

“Contrary to what you may believe this isn’t the same world Carlo built his dynasty in. Humans — even Nighthunters and especially out-of-towners — they don’t whisper the rules to one another anymore.” Then, with firm conviction; “Katherine didn’t know she needed to ask your father for permission to bring Adrian Raines into town.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah, I did.”

If she’s here to enact some sort of delayed punishment, Cadence can’t promise he’ll stay civil. “I weighed the risks carefully,” he continues, “and decided it was best for everyone that no one knew who didn’t need to know.” Not that it had been a good choice. Maybe it could have saved Raines at his trial.

Sometimes he wonders why the two of them didn’t work out — especially when she was Turned. It wasn’t because of her perceived age, and obviously being his boss’ daughter hadn’t stopped them from getting involved in the first place.

He always remembers not a moment later. There’s a reason the term is ‘opposites attract.’ They were too similar — too hot in the head and both prone to speaking and acting without thinking ahead. Without considering the consequences.

So when she isn’t sneering an insult at him on the heels of Cade actually admitting to his wrongdoing… he knows something is very wrong.

“Izzy…?”

And the smile she offers is too forced, too fake. Sends shivers down his spine. “I’m glad you see things that way.”

“What way?”

She unclasps the briefcase with a flick of her little fingers. “That sometimes, in rare cases I think, withholding knowledge from someone is for the best; for all parties involved.

“I had prepared to give you this the night of the Minotaur’s championship fight…” The leather bound folder she pulls free is familiar only in that he’s seen the de la Rosa lawyers carry them like extensions of their hands. “And I have spent many hours since debating whether or not I made the right choice in keeping it close. Watching you in the cage — that made it easier.”

“Something’s happening, Kath—”

“Don’t fight it. Let it swallow you whole.”

Let it swallow you whole.

Katherine couldn’t possibly have known just how accurate she had been.

How it felt to stand at the edge of a yawning abyss no one else could see… and how it felt to have the ground fall out from under his feet the moment he decided to jump.

Memories of what happened after his meeting with Isadora still only came to him in clusters. It was less the act of remembering than feeling the same way — sensory triggers like the smell of blood or the tinny grate of a chain link fence.

Of course she had seen the fight. There were members of the underground community still who approached him on the street with praise for his ‘performance,’ or thanking him for standing up to the illegal deals Persephone covered with velvet and glitter.

But there’s a difference between knowing something and knowing it. Knowing the same hand he used to caress her cheek had also torn off the Minotaur’s horn. Knowing she was witness to it…

Isadora’s touch is solid, without the heat humans bring or the chill they feel. It simply is as she gives him the folder with no other choice. Whatever secrets rest inside they are his burden now.

“What you see here… I ask that you please not think less of me for keeping it from you. I was…” she doesn’t give an excuse — not a single one, “I was doing what I thought was right. But I cannot be the one to make that choice anymore. It’s too much Cadence; it’s far too much.”

He means to find comfort or some understanding in their hands. But there’s none to be found.

They pull away as intimate strangers. The space between them cavernous and echoing — and it only grows wider as he realizes she isn’t the one creating it.

He doesn’t need to ask what mystery he now holds.

What other mystery is there but the thing that has plagued him from their first “hello” to this their last “goodbye?”

Cadence’s voice is calm, even to his own ears. “Is this everything?”

“All that my daughter could find among his possessions.”

“And if I have any questions…”

“No,” she interrupts, “no you may not bring them to me. I would rather meet the sun than invite the conflict this will bring into my city, to my family’s doorstep.”

He wants to call her selfish but can’t say he wouldn’t be the same way were their roles reversed.

It’s a nice fantasy—altruism, kindness, doing the right thing so as not to hurt someone close—but it is a fantasy.

So what if he carried the ring she returned to him for a decade in mourning?

And intuition is a very separate thing from mind-reading; that he knows. In Isadora, though, the lines between them have always been a little smudged.

“In case you have any ideas of this meaning…” she breathes and tries again, “just know this has nothing to do with our past, Cadence. Consider this to be an act of release. Beyond what the Council will ask of us, I wash my hands of you.”

Isadora’s decision is as clear now as it was then. She will always choose her family over him. He can’t begrudge her that in the least.

“If only it were that simple.” But it’s probably for the best.

She leaves as abruptly as she arrived. Somehow with the ability to disrupt everything in his space without touching a single thing. As he looks around the office now it feels tainted with secrets and lies; all the things he still doesn’t know that now rest in his hand.

He need only look.

The chair is less than five steps away but he can’t muster the energy to move both his legs and arms; chooses the latter because what comparison is comfort to answers?

Cadence opens the folder and begins to read.

#nightbound #bloodbound #playchoices fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices nb #oc: cadence smith #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

[creeperdoodle-blog]

Art of Betrayal

Chapter 1: Betrayal.

Early morning mist gently rose from tall, green grass. Ancient trees bowed inward as if they slept. Rolling hills were illuminated by the soft glow of fires, scattered about over miles and miles. Small villages decorated the hills, sheep and cattle resting near their young. The dark sky was dotted with stars, streaked with wisps of galaxies far beyond their own. Mountains rose to the east, a pink hue beginning to lighten the sky around them as the sun began it’s ascent. It was peaceful there, quiet. Or it was.

Swords clanged loudly in the deep canopy of trees, men screaming, shouting orders. The darkness the night cast upon the lands had risen, tendrils of shadows whipping wildly, smashing against massive trees and downing them. Streaks of molten black decorated the ground where ever the shadows smashed, leaving blood and pieces of soldier spread across the grass. There were many soldiers, their spears steady, thrusting into the darkness around them. But the blades pierced nothing, the shadows turning into smoke with each thrust. But their target was not the shadows that tore their brothers to shreds around them, but the demon who they needed to subdue had melted into the darkness and could have been anywhere.

Blades flung from the darkness, the shadows around the area the soldiers were in was darker than the rest of the forest, clearly being fed with maliciousness. Men were dropping left and right, blades from the dark, the shadows moving on their own accord. There were only two men fighting the soldiers, and those two men had already killed half of the unit.

“Come round! Don’t let them escape!”

The soldiers lit torches in an attempt to snuff out the shadows. Some shadows retreated, but others were solid, too solid to be chased away. But with light surrounding the soldiers now, the flash of icy blue could be seen, burning out from the shadows at them. More soldiers rushed forward, their torches piercing the inky darkness, encircling the demon and his pet. They had called in the mages, the men and women unused to combat. They stood back, tomes in hand, chanting and whispering their spells. Each mage produced a cloth, dipped in herbs and blessed. As they chanted, the cloth lifted into the air, strange characters burning into them. They were attempting to trap the demon and his second in their circle, surrounding him with talismans. Talismans were crafted by mages, people who could heal and defend, but didn’t have raw strength like others with abilities. Most mages kept to the towns, crafting potions and healing injured travelers, yet sometimes, the mages would find their way into the military. They’d developed talismans long ago, a piece of paper with a defensive spell cast on it, a strong spell. The talismans were strong enough to completely rid any super soldier of their abilities. And the Demon of Arcturus was not just any random super soldier, he was one of the most powerful men alive.

The mages stepped forward in unison, the soldiers closing in. The shadows ceased with every inch forward, the talismans working more than well enough. The smaller the circle of soldiers became, the more light was cast on their prize. There he stood, his second at his side. He looked like a feral beast, icy eyes reflecting the torch fire, wild and murderous. His second in command, Brom, stood behind him, his back to his commanders, his gaze calm as he assessed their predicament. Varia slashed out towards one of the spears, a wicked and curved blade in hand, smacking it to the side.

“Surrender, demon! There does not need to be anymore blood shed this day!”

Varia’s grip tightened on his sword, his eyes sweeping over the soldiers, the mages behind them, subduing his powers. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, his feet shifting against the grass, slick with blood. He would attack. He would attack over and over again until he was killed, or he was triumphant. He would win, he had to win. Failure was not an option. The Demon of Arcturus did not lose. He would paint Er Rai with their blood. He would blanket their people in darkness. He would bring the country to heel will nothing but his sword and his will. He was Varia. He was the Demon of Arcturus.

A gentle touch to his shoulder snapped Varia from his murderous thoughts. His eyes turned back towards Brom, catching the mans soft brown eyes with his own sharp gaze. He felt all blood lust leave him then, able to read the others gaze. They wouldn’t win this. As they stood there, surrounded, more soldiers were crashing through the trees towards their position. More and more mages were joining them. The sun was rising. They would lose if he attacked. Varia lowered his gaze to his sword, allowing it to drop to his side, before he let it go. The moment Varia dropped his weapon, Brom dropped his daggers as well, the assassin lifting his hands in surrender.

And with that, the Demon of Arcturus and his Reaper were captured. Something that should have never happened, did. How had it come to this? How had the greatest warrior Arcturus had ever seen been captured? Why had he gone to Er Rai with only Brom? He was no mere foot soldier, he was the Demon of Arcturus, one of the titans of the world.

Varia had been born with a dark gift. A malevolent, odious gift, one that struck dread in all who ever opposed him. Throughout the world, there were many special people. People who could craft a potion that could heal a wound in a day. People who could spark a flame with a flick of their wrist. Others, however, could destroy countries with their abilities. Varia was one of them. He had been gifted with the powers of Yreyr, the demon god himself. He controlled darkness itself. He could blanket the world in shadows, and few could stop him. He was the best Arcturus had ever made, the best they would ever have. He was the Demon of Arcturus, the shadow lurking behind the throne. He was everything Arcturus was and more, a honed sword that they would thrust at their enemies. No one was respected more than the Arcturian commander. Varia was their hero, the reason the people of Arcturus remained.

Arcturus was a vast country, frozen and dead. A thick layer of ice coated the grounds, an endless echo of fear and death always drifted on the wind. The strongest of people inhabited the lands, a breed of humans who didn't seem phased by the constant struggle to live or the frost that would forever threaten their lives. Arcturus couldn't grow crop, and only certain trade vessels were strong enough to pierce the ice of their shores. Arcturus built their fortune on war. The land had never been kind, and those who lived there were even less so. The isolated country had one purpose, and that was conquest. They preyed on smaller, weaker countries, stealing their resources and killing their opposition. Farmers didn't exist in Arcturus, not for crops or livestock. Arcturus traded men for goods. The breeder program was their source of income. Men and women unable to fight in their military would contribute their bodies instead. Children were produced solely for war, shipped off to the towers of the Vaalar at birth. There, they were vigorously trained from the moment they could walk. Trained to fight, to kill, to accept the violence that was born with every Arcturian. Varia was the face of the Breeders. He had risen so very far, he had become so good at what they used him for. He was everything the Breeders weren't meant to be. He was the exception, he was the goal every child in the program had. Without him, Arcturus would have fallen long ago. Yet, despite all he had done for them, despite who he was and what he meant to the people, Arcturus itself feared him.

Varia should have known. The moment Arcturus sent him to Er Rai without a full regiment of men he should have known. Distrust had been beaten into him, but his loyalty was strong. Arcturus was all he ever knew, they were the family he never had. They gave him a purpose, they needed him. When they told him to go with Brom, his second in command, alone, he should have known. He shouldn't have been surprised he had stumbled upon an ambush. He shouldn't have been surprised that instead of killing the Demon of Arcturus, they took him and Brom hostage instead. He shouldn't have been, but he was. For Varia had never meant to be what he had become. Even for a place that prized military prowess over everything, there was no place for people who didn't know how to keep their head down. Varia was too much everything Arcturus was, and the Arcturian government was still too young to consider conceding its power. Steel was not suppose to have emotions, weapons had no need for hearts. There was no forgiveness in Arcturus. No failure, no compassion, only duty, war, and death.

The two were paraded through a small camp like trophies. The camp itself wasn’t impressive at all. It was built in a vast field, not anyplace Varia would have taken high profile hostages himself. The camp itself was unguarded by terrain, no mountains, no trees to shelter them. But that had it’s advantages as well, especially if this was used as a staging point. For every potential enemy that could see the post, the soldiers could see them as well. It would be impossible to take by surprise, but not impossible to surround. Varia nearly scoffed at the encampment. But the deeper into the forest of tents they moved, the reason why they had became clear to him. Elven ruins stood in the center of the camp, stone rising into the blue sky, and dipping deep into the soft earth. There the soldiers had built their cells. It was certainly better than tying him and Brom up outside.

Er Ria'an soldiers sneered at the two, spit at the men who had caused so much death the past decade. They were high profile captives, two men who should have never been caught, in theory. Yet here there they were, thrown into small, individual cells, with other prisoners of war. Their cells were completely covered in talismans. Varia was absolutely covered in them. They covered his cell, covered his shackles. This outpost was more than ready for someone such as him, they were waiting for him. It was almost insulting to someone like Varia. For someone so small, his arrogance was nearly as large as the shadow he cast. He did not need his abilities to be dangerous. They certainly helped, but he had not gotten as far as he did relying on his powers alone.

Varia had been small at birth, so small he had nearly been cast out onto the ice and destroyed. Something had stayed the Vaalars hand, and he was taken to the Tower of Nazapul, where he began training to kill before he could even speak. 'What a shame', they all said. 'You could have made more money warming the beds of soldiers.' Varia's attractiveness was something he had struggled with his entire military career. He stood no more than an inch or two higher than five feet. Deep black hair brushed his shoulders, as dark as the shadows he wielded. And his eyes. No one had ever seen eyes so piercing. The lightest shade of blue, nearly white, imitated the ice of the lands he fought for, a stark contrast to his dark hair. And the hate that gaze held could stop a man dead in his tracks. A scowl always graced his sharp features. He had to conquer his appearance to become the Demon of Arcturus. He trained harder than the rest, lashed out in violence more often, spilled blood as many times as he could. Soon his looks had left the minds of the people of Arcturus, replaced instead with awe at his conquests. It had been one of his longest battles, one that many would not understand, and more would turn their nose to. By becoming the Demon of Arcturus, he had to shed the beautiful face he possessed and replace it with something fiendish instead.

Now, they'd been stuck in the cell block for nearly two days. Varia sat in his cell, head leant back against the cold wall, carved with whorls and ancient elven text. He had spent his days in captivity staring at the characters, trying to make sense of them. But elves no longer lived in Arcturus freely. Varia was learned, for a breeder, but elvish was not a language many could speak or read outside of the isolated elvish communities that now existed elsewhere. Varia spent the first full day there, tracing the patterns, committing them to memory. They meant nothing to him, no more than drawings on the wall. But despite Arcturus’ greatest efforts, they could not remove his fascination with the world outside of the ice.

But now it was day two. He had long given up trying to decipher what the writings meant, and now he sat, attempting to plot an escape. The prison had slowly begun to fill up. Petty criminals. Thieves, mostly. No one near on his level of importance. He wondered who they had contacted. He must be kept alive for some reason. Perhaps HE was on his way. The hero of Er Rai. That would be just his luck. The other prisoners bickered and whispered, raking their tin cups along the metal bars, shouting at the guards, wept. His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, his mouth turning down into an almost disgusted scowl. He would surly go mad if he had to wait any longer, sitting in here with men like these. He wanted to smash his head into the wall, to clear his head, to draw a guard into his cell. Anything, so long as he got some goddamn quiet.

So there he sat, no longer able to think of a plan to escape. Instead, he took to brooding. He sat in the corner of his cell, his legs pulled to his chest, his cheek resting against the wall, eyes focused on the markings before him. However, as his ear rested against the stone wall, he caught something. Something faint, but certain. His lips pursed, before he shifted slowly to his feet, holding his hand as if to shush someone, though nothing would truly have stopped the criminals from their incessant arguing. He recognized that sound... The sounds of death filled his ears. Screams of soldiers, the sounds of blades slicing through flesh. The base was under attack. Varia narrowed his eyes, before his relief flooded him. Of course they’d come for him. They’d never leave him behind to die. He was Varia, their greatest commander, one of the only soldiers Arcturus didn’t consider expendable. As the sounds of fighting grew closer, he moved to the cell door, leaning his cheek against it, trying to get a good view of the door. The door to the prison was kicked open moments later, two soldiers entering the prison. Two Arcturian soldiers.

A sigh of relief left Varia, his lips turning up briefly as he recognized the soldiers. He had trained them himself and recognized them from one of his former units. He stepped forward, his arms outstretched, welcoming his own rescue. Before he had a chance to greet the men, they were already in front of his cell. It took Varia only a moment to notice that they were armed, a crossbow aimed directly at his chest, as well as Brom. For a moment Varia was still, and all was quiet. His eyes turned to Brom, before back to the man before him. His brows furrowed in realization. They were not here to save him, they were here to silence him. As that sunk in, his gaze grew cold once more, all hope, all surprise fading away. He couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t see anything except the man standing before him. The crossbow loaded, the bolt aimed to pierce his heart. The Arcturus colors of the mans armor burned his eyes, the sigil on his chest was blinding. A sigil Varia also wore.

Before Varia had a chance to react, the soldier who had aimed at him was thrown to the side with such a force, the man rag dolled, blood spilling out of a fresh wound in his side. The blood spattered across Varias cheek and nose, the wetness on his face causing him to rear back, away from the bars of his cell. The soldier was dead, the second man was apprehended by Er Rai soldiers, but Varias eyes were focused on the soldier who had drawn on him. The mans face was twisted in horror, a silent scream permanently etched on his blood soaked face. The blood from his wound was seeping under the door, soaking the bottoms of Varias boots. What had Varia possibly done? Why would his own country send someone to kill him, rather than liberate him? Varia was NOT expendable, and had he not recognized the man, he wouldn’t have believed it. His eyes drifted from the mans face, down his blood stained armor, and to his wound. It was a clean cut, straight through the soft spot of the metal armor the man wore, and into his side, and straight through his heart. Varias scowl darkened as a familiar voice boomed through the prison cells. His mouth twisted in a sneer as he realized fairly quickly who had saved his life. "You’re not as important as you thought, Varia."

An icy gaze turned to the door, the light filtering in nearly causing him to wince. Silhouetted in the door way was none other than the Hero of Er Rai. Maddox. Er Rais captain. Varias arch enemy. The only man he had never been able to kill. Heavy boots stepped over the body of Varias own soldier as the man stepped in front of Varias cell. Varia was easily dwarfed by the man, and Maddox so loved to remind him of that. As Maddox drew close to the bars, he slumped down, placing hands on his knees as he exaggerated his crouch, now face to face with the dark assassin. "Now tell me. Why would Arcturus want their own, precious commander dead?"

The captain was built like a god, and he was reminded of such often. Tall, muscular, but not overly so. Deep pools of green shone with ill intent and mystery from a bronzed face. His jaw was strong, his nose was strong, high cheekbones and a flashy smile that was certain to cause women and men alike to melt. His hair had been dark when he was young, but living for years in Er Rai and Nihal, the harsh sun had lightened it. It was unkempt, but in that attractive way that made tavern wenches swoon. He was every bit the hero Er Rai claimed him to be. His broad shoulders blocked the light from the outside as he stood before Varia, raising to his full height. It never hurt to remind the little demon how much smaller he was.

“You’ll want to watch those bodies. That one is rather proficient in pilfering bodies for useful means of escape and killing.” Maddox said absently to Sabre, his own second, pointing at Brom as he considered his wayward rival, Varia. To be honest he wasn't quite sure why he had saved the brat. It wasn't like Varia was going to be grateful for the gesture and having Varia alive definitely proved more troublesome than the male dead. Had it been pride that had spurred him? He had always been hot-headed and short-sighted compared to others. More than likely he had just reacted to seeing the enemy invading, regardless of who their target was. But while Maddox was a lug head in many ways he knew himself well. Yes, he had reacted on instinct and charged after the enemy. Yes, he had a powerful need to protect others. These things had contributed to him killing the soldier that had aimed at Brom and Varia. But that hadn’t been the reason he had saved them.

“You know, it becomes a lot harder for me to take credit for claiming your head if your own country is out for it as well. Not that I expect you to tell me the truth of why that is. Maybe they just realized it was ridiculous to have a dwarf as their star player….” Maddox said, rising to his full height and taking stock of the prison. Varia had likely been brought here because it was little known and not a likely place for spies to look, but clearly that plan had backfired. * We’re taking them back to the capital. At least if someone comes looking there it wont be a slaughter. We’ll move any other prisoners of note as well. * Maddox said to Sabre in Er Rain. * And here I thought we could finally have a visit where you weren’t dragged into battle. * Maddox shook his head at his friend as his eyes fell again on Brom, narrowing slightly for a moment.

Sabre had thought the same, that much was evident from his face. But both he and Maddox had known better. Sabre had visited for a very specific reason. Intelligence. That’s what he did. He was a senior intelligence office from Nihal. Not to mention 52nd in line for the crown, but that didn’t matter. He would never be king. The Navari family was massive, no doubt Sabre’s taste for multiple partners stemming from his blood line. He had only arrived to Emeriss several days prior with a small detachment of men. He and Maddox worked together more often than not, and he had planned to stay. His trip home had been brief, to attend a wedding for some cousin he had never met. His father was an important man, and despite trying his hardest to put an ocean between him and his father, General Navari had demanded it so. And thank the Gods he had. Maddox relied heavily on the information the spies from the great, desert country provided.

While he was there Sabre had traveled to the prisons, as he often did. Varia’s campaign focused primarily in Nihal, and lately he had been pushing south once more. It was a strange move, one he didn’t understand, but hoped to. Varia was generally quite aware of his men who were injured and he rarely left anything except corpses behind, but this movement south had been…. Sloppy. Compared to Varia’s continued aggression in the east, it was unusual. They had found several injured soldiers left behind, not killed. That was the first sign that Varia wasn’t even in Nihal. The second had been less a sign and more an absolute. Being abandoned by ones own general did nothing for loyalty, and one of the men had been eager to give away everything he knew about the situation. Varia had been pulled from his command post weeks ago, a green general taking his place. Explained the sudden retreats and loss of ground. But that wasn’t anything unusual. Varia was an important man, he would often be called back to Arcturus for a number of political endeavors. He was their hero after all, and their high commander.

The weapon. That was what had concerned Sabre, and that’s what he returned to discuss with Maddox. A great weapn, whispers of it had been passing through Arcturian ranks, and this soldier had heard them. He didn’t know what it was, how it worked, or even if the rumors were true. Arcturus kept most things close to the chest, so the fact he knew anything at all was impressive. The war had almost grown desperate. Varia and Maddox both refused to give ground. With either of them alive, the war would likely never end. It would make sense Arcturus would find a way past him, besides Varia. It had been ten years and both men were quite evenly matched. This weapon could speed up an Arcturus invasion. He had left immediately. Sabre couldn’t have known if the weapon was real, but hearing Varia was in Er Rai with only Brom at his side was enough to convince him. Varia WAS the weapon already, it only made sense if the two were tied somehow. Now, with Varia and Brom both alive and captive… everything suddenly seemed to be falling into place.

Sabres eyebrows raised as Maddox spoke to him, his immediate protest caught in his throat as he considered the possibilities. Maddox knew what he was thinking. Sabre didn’t give much indication of what went on inside his mind, but Maddox knew the man well enough to know what he thought. Bringing Varia to the capital was madness, plain and simple. The little psycho was more than capable of completely eradicating the royal family, and parading him into the great walls of Emeriss was practically gift wrapping the city for him. Sabre opened his mouth to argue with the captain, catching himself once again . He shot a glare in the direction of their prisoners, before he gently took the captains arm, stepping outside of the prison with him. “Are you mad? Taking those two to the capital is crazy. What happens if little psycho escapes? Then Emeriss burns with him leading the charge.” Sabre had never met Varia, or his second in command. If he had, it was unlikely he'd be standing there today. He was capable of combat, and fairly efficient, but he wasn’t bred for battle like Maddox and Varia were. If Varia escaped, their only chance would be Maddox. Maddox was fully capable of stopping Varia, but the impressive captain hadn’t been able to kill him. Where ever Varia went, there was carnage. Emeriss was a beacon, a shining example of what wealth and military could accomplish. The walls were high, the city was alive, and people were happy. The city had never been taken, not by anyone. Emeriss was impenetrable, but allowing that man, that killer into the walls would mean destruction. Sabre had learned long ago to trust his gut, and the unsettling feeling of dread that was swirling inside of him was too strong to ignore. Something would happen, something they wouldn’t be able to recover from.

“The only other place to take them is Lyons, but that means going through the light forest where we will surely lose them. The road to the capital is mostly flat terrain, not ideal for an assassin and fugitive to try to escape across. We may not like it but it’s the only option. Besides, I think the king and queen took the princess to the coast for her birthday.” Maddox assured his second in command as their prisoners were escorted out. To be honest, Varia slaughtering the royal family was the least of Maddox’s concerns. Varia, in Maddox’s experience, was a sword to be pointed at the enemy before you. Like Maddox, Varia was power, not subtlety. This was too elaborate a plot if it was one intended to deceive them. No, Varia’s surprised was real, which meant the betrayal was real. Varia wasn't likely to try and do Arcturus any favors. If it was just Brom, Maddox would agree, but this was something else. "Very well.... But let's hurry. I don't like the idea of traveling with him when the sun sets." Sabre said, watching the two men as they were loaded. Traveling with Varia at night, with that sneak of a second in command could turn into a blood bath.

Varia was still as several soldiers moved to his cell, the door swinging open as they moved on him. They didn’t release his bindings, nor remove the talismans that subdued his powers. They drug him from his cell, reminding him once more he was no longer in control. His eyes burned into sabre and Maddox as he was taken to them. He flinched at the light, a hiss leaving his lips as he was pushed into a mobile cell, one drawn by horses. The cell consisted of only him, Brom, and two other captives. Apparently the only ones worth anything. His gaze moved down towards the bloody body of the soldier as he was forced to step over him, his gaze darkening as his eyes focused on the sigil the man wore. His own sigil suddenly felt so heavy, burning into his flesh, reminding him of all he had done for the country he came from. Why had they done this? If they could send a man in to murder him, they could have sent a man in to free him. What had he possibly done to warrant such a betrayal? Did they think he'd defect? Did they no longer trust him to keep the horrors he'd witnessed to himself? The possibilities were endless, but despite how his mind raced, trying to find any reasonable excuse for Arcturus, the fact remained. There was no mistake, there was no misunderstanding. Arcturus had meant to kill him, after all this time.

A small hand clenched into a fist against his bindings, his gaze raising to focus on his second in command. For a moment, his gaze seemed accusing, as if he knew it had to be Broms fault. It was a brief moment, before his sharp gaze became hollow once more. He had been warned by many. Varias influence traveled far in Arcturus, and honestly, it was a wonder that they had found a soldier willing to kill the small man. Many people had warned Varia, warned him that the loyalty and respect he demanded would be seen as a threat to his tyrannical country. They warned him, and he had disregarded their words. Despite the loyalty of the troops, his loyalty was strong, unbreakable. He’d committed unspeakable acts in the name of Arcturus, they knew he was loyal. He was not competition for the country, at least he hadn’t meant to be. Realizing that he was as expendable as every other soldier made his stomach twist with anger, his deep rage burning brighter than ever as he considered just how easily it must have been for his country to turn on him. His anger was just, and the rage he had lived with his entire life had suddenly shifted towards those who had made him this way. Even if he managed to escape the clutches of his nemesis, he had no where to go anymore. He was a wanted man in every country, but his own.

“Forgive me, this is my fault.” Brom said under his breath to Varia as the cart got under way. “You should have killed me before...because they hadn’t come for us until now and your influence in the south….I’m sorry I didn't anticipate this.” Varias lips had drawn into a tight line, his usual scowl dark on his features as he sat still, his small body lurching as the horses began to pull their mobile cage. He could feel the eyes of Maddox and Sabre burning into his back, knowing both men likely knew what was happening in his mind. He'd never imagined such a betrayal. He'd given everything to Arcturus, he was their sword. His rage had found a new target, wanting nothing more than to watch Arcturus burn before him. But even then, even after a blatant assassination attempt, he knew his rage wouldn’t last, not towards Arcturus. As Brom spoke to him, Varia remained quiet. The man's words hardly made him flinch, but he took them in. His influence in the south... It was true, Varia commanded thousands of men, and had their trust and loyalty. He wasn't unforgiving, but he produced results, which is what mattered to them. "How could you have convinced me of such a betrayal, even if you had foreseen It? I would have never listened." He finally replied. The things he knew, the things he'd witnessed and been a part of in Arcturus could make the country crumble before him. Arcturus had always been wise in choosing enemies, so why had they only sent two men after him? He was the Demon of Arcturus, one of the great titans of their time. He was not an enemy one would willingly choose.

It was true, Brom probably couldn't have convinced Varia of Arcturus’ betrayal. Varia, before now, had supreme confidence in his place and mutual loyalty between himself and Arcturus. Which made Brom pause in his actions a moment before continuing, speaking even softer. “Are we sure it was actually Arcturus?” Brom questioned, though his tone indicated that he didn't really have a doubt. The timing seemed random and Maddox’s arrival too well timed. Perhaps they had both jumped to conclusions they had been set up to. “Perhaps this is a ploy. A trick to make us think we’ve been betrayed and to divulge information.” It was a long shot, but they had to exhaust every possibility. Brom had little love for Arcturus itself, but neither was he keen to get into bed with their enemy. “I didn't recognize the soldiers. We only assume they are Arcturian because of the uniform...but as we’ve seen, it would not be hard for our enemies to get a few uniforms and pretend…” The only question was whether they believed Maddox would sacrifice his own soldiers for such a ploy. “Maddox may not have been informed….strengthen the ploy…” Brom murmured to his commander. “We should be cautious in what we say, wait until we have more concrete…”

“So, the mighty do fall.” Brom cut off his words as one of the other prisoners slid closer and threw an arm around Brom’s shoulders, trapping him as the man’s wrists were still shackled. “I hear ya’ll some big bad generals...but here you are with the common thieves and thugs. I ‘spose you all are killers, eh? Dunno how such pretty things like you could be so important you need such fancy jewelry.” The prisoner spoke, his bound hands reaching forward to pat the talisman on Varia’s wrist. "I would be willing to agree Arcturus wasn't behind this if I hadn't recognized the man that pulled a crossbow on me." The small man said, icy eyes shifting up and focusing on the backs of the captain and his brunette friend. "Regardless, Arcturus may believe I'm expendable, but with the situation we've found ourselves in, we have the best opportunity we could ask for. We don't want to seem too complacent. I don't want Maddox suddenly realizing he's handing the royal family over to me on a silver platter, not yet." Varias hellish gaze shifted back, now focused on the thief who had so boldly spoken to them. "I'm sure he doesn't expect me to come so quietly." In an instant Varias boot has smashed into the other prisoners chest, a sickening crunch echoing out as the man's sternum cracked. The prisoner gasped, his grip on Brom loosening immediately, his arms reaching around himself to try and defend against the tiny man, but it was too late. Varia was on him in a moment, his knees pinning the man against the floor of their caged carriage, Varia’s shackles clanging loudly as he smashed his fists into the criminals face. Blood splattered upwards, the man coughing and sputtering, before Varia’s hands found themselves around the mans neck.

Brom leaned out of the thief’s grasp as Varia attacked him, seeming completely at ease with his commanders violence. The other prisoner was squeezed into a corner, trying to avoid the melee as much as possible. Whatever designs that one had, it did not include helping his fellow thief or causing a ruckus with Brom and Varia. Sabre had turned the moment the struggle began, pulling the carriage horses to a stop. "Goddamnit!" He shouted. The envoys guards rushed forward, one man shoving a key into the door, no doubt thinking he could break up the brawl. Sabre leapt from the carriage, grasping the man's shoulders and yanking him back. "Don't open it, are you mad?!" He snapped, before turning to watch. The thief’s eyes were wide, focused on Sabre and Maddox, bulging from his face. His flesh had already begun to turn purple, his legs kicking wildly beneath Varias hips, but to no avail. Varia was strong, especially for his size. He had learned quickly that overpowering another man in hand to hand combat was near suicide, instead relying on being faster than his opponent. Even now, the man was much larger than him, thin, but taller, Varia was easily able to drop the man. With a broken sternum, and the shock of such a sudden attack, Varia had taken the man down with hardly any effort. As he squeezed the life from his victim, Varias eyes were wide, like a predator closing in on its helpless prey.

The darkness swirling behind a normally calm and attractive gaze caused a chill to run down Sabres spine. He could hear the man choking, the jerking of his legs lessening to mere twitches, his eyes blood red as his vessels popped. Sabre turned to Maddox, his eyebrows furrowed. "We can't take him out of there.... not here and especially not in the capital." Any other pair would have rushed to the cage, tried to break the two men apart, even open the cage to get them out. But though the guards did rush the cage and fumble with the keys with intent to pull the men out and apart, Sabre stayed their hands. The guards clearly were unsure about this choice, trained to believe that every prisoner was important, if only for the bounty on their heads. The thief in question seemed to have a pretty hefty one, considering how distressed everyone looked about it. Except Maddox, of course. The male seemed nonplussed that a person was being strangled right before him. They were seriously going to let the man die before they opened the cage. Well, it was probably a good plan, considering.

Maddox had been relaxed during the brawl, only looking to Sabre as the man harshly spoke to him. It was clear enough to anyone that Sabre was most uncomfortable traveling with the two. So, with a bothered sigh, Maddox strode towards the cell. “Now now, Varia, that’s enough. You’ve proved your point. He’s not worth as much dead and I’ll get reprimanded besides. Be a good boy and let him go would you?” Maddox said as he took a dagger from his belt and pointed it at Varia’s arms. But as he spoke he didn't look at Varia but at Brom. Varia wouldn’t give a shit about his words, and Maddox knew that. He also knew that getting his commander hurt and putting him at a disadvantage was not something Brom was keen on. So as a white power swirled along Maddox’s blade, Brom moved forward to grab Varia’s shoulders, pulling him back slightly, his lips near his commanders ear. “If they are too wary of us we wont find an opening.” Brom whispered so only Varia could hear, keeping an eye on the blade in Maddox’s hand. “Maddox also fully intends to shatter your arms just to make a point. We don't want to be any more at their mercy.” Brom added, for he saw the same feral glee in Maddox’s eyes as was likely in Varia’s. Even if it meant blasting apart the head of the very prisoner Maddox claimed was so valuable, he would gladly suffer the reprimand if it meant causing damage to Varia and distress to Brom. So he was disappointed when Brom coaxed Varia away, his eyebrow cocking in amusement as Varia shoved the man into the floor, flopping back to sit in his seat, his posture reeking of a teenage attitude. Maddox turned to Sabre, patting him on the back. “Don't worry so much, you’ll give yourself ulcers. We still have another little lamb for the tiger here to vent his anger on.” Maddox said, winking at Varia. “Besides, it’s not like we betrayed him. He might be ready to have a proper conversation by the time we get home.”

Sabre groaned as Maddox spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. "Gods, little psycho is going to give me an aneurysm before we get to the capital." He grumbled, glaring over his shoulder at the two men. Brom met his gaze. Sabre held it for a moment, before he looked to Maddox. "Its a shit idea still, but... the sooner we get to the capital, the better. The last thing we need is psycho one and psycho two getting the upper hand. I'll feel much better inside the walls of Emeriss, with the bulk of your military." Sabre grumbled, glancing towards Varia briefly as they began the train once more.

The caravan continued, and gave Varia plenty of time to think. That was never something he was allowed, time to think. Brom was right. He had to try to remain calm, something he had often struggled with. In Arcturus, there was no such thing as a childhood. Boys never had a chance to learn to keep their anger in check, in fact, they were encouraged to lash out with extreme violence. Varia remembered those days fondly, despite how horrific that was. But it was the only time he had ever received any form of positive attention, even borderline affection from any adult in his life growing up. Varia had been the best of them all, not just in his sector, but spanning across the country he was known for his violence. Lashing out was a way for him to gain himself small acts of kindness, like an extra ration at dinner, or an extra blanket during the especially frigid nights. But what he craved the most, was the silent looks of approval. The nods and excited whispers the adults shared whenever he was especially vicious. Even now, with a decent education and a general understanding of his abuse, even as a grown man, he still viewed those moments as some of his greatest. Arcturus had seen a great potential in him, even at an early age. He had taken the country by storm, overcoming his obstacle, smashing the assumption that because he was small, he was weak. It was part of his notoriety in Arcturus, part of the reason he was regarded so highly... or at least, used to be. He was a hero, someone other children in breeder facilities would look up to, whispers of his conquests would echo down hallways across the country, and even in other places. He had been so important, his face was plastered on propaganda posters, his techniques used to train new soldiers. Now he was here, in a country he had vowed to destroy, in a small cell with a half dead thief, treated as if he was some common criminal, and his country had made their stance on the matter perfectly clear. But what would he do, if he even escaped?

It was a long walk to the capital and Sabre set a grueling pace. He wasn't kidding about wanting to get there as quickly as possible and put those two behind sturdier bars. Maddox was less concerned, instead worrying over why Varia had come into his grasp in the first place. For how angry Varia was, it didn't seem to be a trap laid by him. Varia was good at a great many things, but acting wasn't one of them, not that Maddox had ever seen. So if this was a trap then it was one that was using Varia without his knowledge. Which meant Brom probably also didn't know anything, for Maddox couldn't see the assassin participating in such a farce without letting Varia know. Which meant Arcturus had more than likely abandoned the two, or had some plan which necessitated that appearance. Whether or not Arcturus planned to reclaim the general and assassin, a plan that discarded Varia so easily was one to be wary of. Maddox pulled one of the courier bird from its cage and whispered a message to it before sending it off. He would put the capital on guard just in case and have them gather more intel for him. If Brom was here then it was likely something big and not at all requiring much finesse or stealth. Hopefully something like that would have made waves enough that his spies would be able to pick up something. Maddox came up along side the cage, smacking it behind Varia. “Sulking still? You should be honored. All the greatest of evil countries have it turn against them. You should see this as them acknowledging your skill. But I suppose that you wont sit and die quietly for that small bit of acknowledgment?” Maddox’s eyes slid to Brom who glared back, wary of where this conversation was going. Maddox smirked and Brom tensed even more. “Besides, it’s not like you didn't know you were in bed with traitors and liars from the start. Perhaps you would like to make an honest start? Make Arcturus feel the pain as well? It’s not betraying them if they cast you out first.”

The glare Varia had cast over his shoulder at Maddox was seething with pure hate. He knew better than to give into taunts and prodding from the enemy, and even though Maddox made a point, the condescending tone the captain took any time the two men exchanged words was infuriating. "I don't plan on dying just yet., Captain." He spat out at the man, shifting his small frame away from the bars, distancing himself from Maddox. As Varia rebuffed his offer, Maddox turned his attention to his worry-wart second. “At this rate we’ll need to set camp.” Sabre spoke as he nodded to a smaller group of guards, only four of them as they moved towards the capital ahead of the caravan. Maddox frowned at the prospect of setting up camp, not wanting to be out of his warm bed another day more than necessary. But as he looked to the darkening sky he had to agree. It was getting late quickly, ominous clouds gathering in the distance in the direction of the capital. Maddox sucked his teeth in annoyance before climbing atop the cage housing Varia and Brom, looking around. Double annoyance. There were few ideal places to camp in this area with a forest to their left and rock faces to their right. “What do you think, mister Assassin? Cliffs or forest for camp?” Maddox asked the male below him, squatting down closer to the other.

Varia turned his gaze from the never-ending fields to Brom instead, trying to figure out if the general was going to do something concerning. He considered for a moment lashing out. He could almost reach Maddox, but that wouldn’t work. The prat was standing atop the bars precisely because he knew there was nothing productive to be had in attacking him there now. Brom turned his gaze to Varia briefly. Varia caught the look, before he turned his head away once more, deciding instead to resume his brooding, but he had an idea or two. The forest was clearly ideal in that the shadows would be deeper and thus easier for Varia to control. When they got loose as well it would be easier to muffle Broms own footsteps and for them to hide than on the cliffs. On the cliffs as well Maddox’s power could have more devastating effect if used on the rocks themselves. By the same token Brom could make easier use of rocks himself to make a weapon. Well, he could use a tree branch too but it would take more time. “I vote the cliffs if I were you. Wouldn’t want to be caught in a dark forest with a demon after all.” Brom said with a smirk, wondering if Maddox would take his suggestion as genuine or not. Maddox stroked his stubble in contemplation. “Mmmm, I agree. The forest would be best.” Maddox said, straightening despite Brom’s look of bafflement. “Sabre, let’s set camp around the next bend a little ways in.” Maddox called to the other, jumping down from the cage and heading over to the other. He knew it sounded nuts considering the cons of the forest, but it wasn’t a random choice nor one to be contrary. Between the cliffs and the forest, the forest was still the safer of the two. The cliffs, apart from being crumbly, was incredibly windy this time of year and would make it hard to start a fire and speak to one another. Besides, it wasn't like the forest didn't have its share of creatures not common to the colder Arcturian wilds. They could try escaping if they wanted, but they might find it safe to stick with Maddox and his troops than traipsing through a foreign wilderness.

Sabre had listened to Maddox, despite his protest swelling in his chest. Brom was absolutely right, he did not want to be caught in the forest with Varia, especially at night. But Maddox knew Varia better than he ever would. Despite the fact every encounter they had ever being murderous, Maddox had known the little demon for years. They had exchanged many words, and could read one another like a book. If Maddox felt safer in the forest, even with the demon of Arcturus in their party, Sabre would comply. Just beyond the path was a small clearing. Not small enough to park the rolling cell, but large enough to start a fire and even sleep. Once they had finished setting up, Sabre allowed himself to finally sit. He sat across the fire from the cell, making sure his eyes remained on the pair lurking just beyond the orange glow. A heavy sigh left his lips, as if the greatest stress had just been removed from his shoulders. As the two guards they had left moved off in search for food, Sabre craned his neck around to eyeball Maddox. "Think little psycho will talk?" He mused, though he already knew the answer to that. Maddox met his question with a smirk and a cock of the eyebrow. “Go on. Try.” Sabre’s golden eyes met ice from across the fire, his attention leaving Maddox as the other moved towards the cage.

Sabre tilted his head as he watched that hateful gaze follow the captain, a hand reaching up to rub against his short beard briefly. "I'd always thought you'd be taller." He called out suddenly, causing Varias eyes to shift from Maddox to him. Varia felt a ball of anger well in his chest, something not uncommon to him. A crooked grin spread across Sabres lips as Varia reacted to him. It wasn't much, but being able to tear his concentration away from trying to murder Maddox with his eyes was enough for Sabre. "Why would Arcturus try and have you killed, Varia?" Varias scowl darkened, a huff leaving his nose. He had a million answers to that question, but none he was certain on. One stood out above the rest, though. That same warning Brom had given him so long ago. But he wasn't dumb, and he knew the Nihalian wasn't either. He knew Sabre could piece it together, if he hadn't already. Instead of providing an answer for the man, he turned his gaze away once more, watching the flickering shadows dancing across the ground. "Perhaps you aren't as effective as you used to be. Becoming soft in your old age." It was a blatant jab, not even half true. Varias cruelty knew no bounds, and only seemed to worsen every year. But he was old... at least for a commander working for Arcturus. They usually were dead by now, and usually by Maddox’s hand. Yet here he was, a living, breathing devil.

Maddox, for his part, perched atop the cage once more, throwing a soft pack under his butt for cushion. He polished his sword as the others searched for provisions and Sabre harassed the prisoners. Maddox seriously could not understand how someone as easily rattled as Varia had managed to stay alive so long and get as high a rank as he had. Then again, Maddox wasn’t very much different when put around the right set of people, so maybe he understood all too well. It was that short temper that gave Varia his violence, after all. A similar temper fueled Maddox’s power most of the time, though it was harder to intentionally make it flare. Maddox wasn’t sure if that made him more or less dangerous to others. As the sun crept further down the horizon and the shadows grew around them, Maddox finished cleaning his sword and plunged it between the bars until the hilt caught on the top. It was long enough to almost go through to the bottom. Maddox leaned down on it gently, smiling as it vibrated very slightly. “More than likely they got tired of him losing to me all the time.” Maddox suggested, smirking down at the angry Arcturians. “In case it wasn’t clear, any funny business on your parts will result in an unpleasantly messy death and thus an end to our little game of cat and mouse.” Maddox informed the two below him.

Varia couldn't help himself this time. Being Maddox’s prisoner was bad enough, but the mans constant taunts had begun to wear on his already short temper. "Losing to you?" Varia hissed, craning his neck upwards to scowl up at Maddox. "I have never lost to you. I'm a living, breathing example of your own weakness, Maddox." Sabre chuckled to himself, prodding at the fire as Varia finally spoke. Maddox had an infuriating way about him, especially if he targeted someone individually, like he seemed to do with Varia. It maybe appeared to be all in fun, but Sabre knew better. Varia was right, Maddox hadn’t been able to kill Varia. Yet, Varia had never been able to kill Maddox. The two men were constantly at a stand still, something that not only seemed to frustrate Varia, but most likely frustrated Maddox as well.

"Look Varia. Maddox mentioned it before, but we're willing to give you a chance to help bring Arcturus down. We wouldn't offer that to just an--"

"Shut up." Varia snapped over his shoulder, cutting Sabre off, before he glared up at Maddox once more. "If you're going to kill us, get on with it. I'd much rather be buried than to have to listen to you and your little friend any longer."

Maddox grinned a crooked grin down at Varia, his eyes darkening. “Well that’s not incentive for me to kill you is it? I’d much rather inconvenience and annoy you with taunts. If you want to be killed you’re going to have to work a little harder for it. Perhaps I haven’t killed you yet because you’re still too weak for me to bother with.” Maddox suggested, knowing it was a lie. But he couldn’t tell Varia the real reason he hadn’t killed him, even when he had the opportunity. True that Varia was strong as the devil and much of the time they were evenly matched. But there had been very key times where Varia could have dealt the killing blow or else Maddox could have. The reason they were still alive to taunt and haunt each other’s careers, had little to do with the ability of one or the other. But unless Varia defected, the truth could not be revealed. Maddox too had things he needed to protect and as long as Varia professed to be his sworn enemy, Maddox had to keep hoping the other died in other suspicious circumstances. “While you’re taunting then could you also provide food and water? This climate is not exactly cool for being carted around in a metal cage.” Brom said, kicking the underside of where Maddox sat. Maddox, who had been tense with the desire to do as Varia wanted, released some of his power into the ground beneath them, creating a perfectly round indentation under the cage. Maddox glanced at the assassin who raised an eyebrow at him. Maddox whistled to one of the other soldiers to fetch some water. Some wild boars were turning over a few fires, so those would be ready when they were ready. “I suggest you talk some sense into your master. This offer only lasts until we get to the capital. After that you’ll die right along with him.” Maddox said as he was tossed a few water skins. One he guzzled down himself, the other he poured over the two prisoners below. “Let me know if you want more water.” Maddox smirked.

Varia growled, an unnatural sound, especially coming from someone so small. He had pressed his back against the bars of the cell as Maddox poured the water down over them. A loud cackle erupted from behind them, coming from Sabre. He'd always admired the sheer boldness of Maddox, and it was especially present now. Watching how easily the captain dismissed the Demon of Arcturus and his second in command was impressive. "You truly think either of us will give you any information? Or are you just wasting all your time and all of these resources JUST so you can parade me through Emeriss?" Varia spat, wiping water from his face, flicking it upwards towards Maddox. It was funny, watching the two titans bicker and take jabs at one another, though Sabre was more than aware that the only reason blood hadn’t been split was because Varia was restrained. "Come on, Varia. What do you even owe Arcturus? They've done nothing but abuse and use you your entire life." Sabre called out, not intending to drop his attempt at gathering information from the small man. "Who even are you? I said to shut up." Varia snapped back towards Sabre. "Tell me about the weapon." Sabre called back, not affected by Varias harsh words this time. Though the glare Varia had focused on Maddox was harsh, the sudden twitch in his eyebrow was apparent to anyone who was looking. Slowly, Varias gaze turned back towards Sabre, eyeing the man fully. "Ah, I see. That's why you've kept us alive."

Maddox sucked his teeth in mock annoyance. “Damn, I suppose you do know something about that then. Shame. Now I owe that fool there a gold coin, and you’ve earned yourself an extended stay in Emeriss with the lovely master torturers. I had planned to kill you flat out, myself.” Maddox said, studying Varia. Maddox couldn’t tell just yet whether Varia actually knew anything about the weapon or only the rumors Maddox himself had heard. Maddox knew very well how people such as himself, while considered invaluable and essential, could easily be left out of the loop on important military matters. If that was the case here, Maddox could only imagine how much more so it was in Arcturus. Which left an even more disturbing possibility. “That’s the crown’s interest, yes. There have been a few rumors of some new fancy weapon, out of pace with what we’ve seen. Something so big we thought you might know a thing or two.” Maddox looked away from the two below him and to Sabre, his brow furrowing in mild concern. “But he might be a grunt….” Maddox thought aloud, resting his chin on his hands atop the pommel of his sword.

“Reaper, you know their treachery better than anyone. Tell me...between the two options which is more likely? One: you and the demon here are actually the trigger for the weapon, allowed to come into our custody in order to get you into the city and set it off with the royal family there….or two: sacrifice you to ensure all of your enemies, Arcturus’ enemies, would gather in one place to see your demise, so that they could launch the weapon and kill everyone, including you two with them?” Maddox looked down at Brom who quickly looked away, his mind having not thought of the second option and didn’t want to show the concern of its truth on his face. “They wouldn’t need to kill everyone, only you. Once you fall, so does much of the resistance and worry of Arcturus. I’d say we’re a trap for you more than the crown. So it might be a good idea to abandon us here, now, while you have the chance.” Brom suggested in a calm reasonable voice, but Varia could sense his stress. He knew why. It was because the truth was, in both of those cases, whether they were a trap for Maddox or a lure for a bigger haul, neither option left them alive. If their country had been trying to kill them off for awhile, this would just be a more useful way of doing so. Brom looked over at Varia, tapping his foot for his attention. * I think they are right, Arcturus plans to kill us * Brom signed to Varia. It was common in Arcturus. Often the blizzards and frightening ice storms made it impossible to hear another speak. The Arcturian military had taught every one of it’s soldiers hand signs, a way to communicate without speaking. * Think about recent promotions, military movements….we’ve been isolated. *

Varias gaze dropped as Brom signed to him, confirming what he had already gathered. Arcturus wanted them both dead, and the sudden reality of it hit him like a ton of bricks. A defeated sigh left him, lowering himself back onto the seat, small hands rubbing at his face. Varia knew everything, or at least he thought he had. Up until recent events, he had never once thought of the possibility, or at least given it any real thought. He was too important, too valuable to Arcturus' cause. Without him, they had no one able to stand up to Maddox, and no one willing to commit the atrocities needed to secure their conquest. As if by magic, everything he had been given in secrecy over the years bubbled in his throat. He had never even humored the idea of sharing such important information before, but there it was, resting on the tip of his tongue, ready to be spilled. And what if he did? Could it even be stopped at this point? Who knew how long ago they had stopped feeding him proper information, he hadn't been to see the bomb sites in nearly six months, and as far as he knew, they weren't even prepared to launch. But those weren’t the only secrets he knew. There were many, MANY more. If Arcturus was so adamant to see him dead, perhaps the information he held frightened them... or perhaps just his very existence, his vengeful, powerful existence frightened them.

The tension in the air had suddenly shifted, causing Sabre to squint over the fire towards their prisoners. Maddox’s head turned downward, able to sense the change in Varia’s mood better than most. 15 years of knowing one another, though their encounters had been violent and bloody, had the unwanted affect of knowing one another better than most. He could feel the turmoil brewing in Varia, stronger than it had before. A deep silence had fallen over the camp, the faint murmur of their guards and the soft licking of flames being the only noise for a long, long moment, before the small commander let out another deep sigh.

"If this has been their intention all along, then I'm afraid my information may no longer be of any relevance to you. If the bombs are ready to launch, then I had been cut from the inner circle months ago." Varia suddenly uttered, his voice soft and small, no longer stern and confident as it normally was. Sabre immediately stood as Varia spoke, recognizing the opportunity and knowing just how quickly it could turn sour once more. Maddox’s face didn’t shift, but his eyes flickered to Sabre briefly, giving his second in command a short nod. He quickly moved closer to the cell, still maintaining a safe distance. He crouched, golden eyes focused on the back of the Demon of Arcturus. "Anything you could tell us could potentially bring Arcturus to heel. After all they've done to you, after all you've done for them, casting you aside like they're doing is the stupidest thing they could have ever done. I know you want to see them burn. Help us make that happen." The new silence around them was uncomfortable, the inward battle Varia was waging with his own thoughts and morals was evident by the vicious scowl on his face. He knew Maddox was right, he knew Sabre was right, and he knew Brom had been right so many times before. He had just been so blinded by his own forced loyalty he hadn’t seen it before. But now it was clear to him. His eyes finally lifted from their spot on the floor, raising up to lock with Maddox. "If you've been hearing whispers of the weapons, then nothing will save Emeriss. If I were you, I would send word to evacuate the city, though I doubt there will be enough time to save them all."

Bombs? Maddox heard the word but it didn’t quite register what the other meant. In a world of magic and power, something as archaic as ‘bomb’ didn’t really have a lot of meaning. People had tried in the past of course, to harness immense powers into a compact form. But those experiments had always proven too unstable, unreliable. In an age where your opponent could be born with a gift that could easily render all your efforts meaningless, such research into things like ‘bombs’ had become obsolete. Or so Maddox had thought. He was sure that he didn’t understand the magnitude and implication of what Varia was calling a ‘bomb’, but he didn’t really need to. Even if the Arcturians hadn’t found a way to harness a particular power into a portable and detonatable form, even if they used the archaic versions, it would still be devastating. The world had moved on to much more terrible and yet civilized ways of killing people, that they had little protection against such crude forms of mass destruction. Maddox hardly heard the rest of what Varia and Sabre were talking about. He had spent all of his life fighting against the atrocities of Arcturus. He had risked and sacrificed much to stand against that great monster that had betrayed and destroyed his family. Aside from Varia, Maddox had thought himself doing a pretty damn good job paying them back with interest for all they had done. But now he saw how futile his efforts had been. How each of his victories had been hurling them ever faster towards this great defeat. ‘Nothing will save Emeriss.’ Words that did not need to be said but which voiced a truth that Maddox already knew. “It was all for nothing then?” Maddox asked softly in Arcturian to no one in particular. Despair and rage built inside of him, pressing against the walls of his skull, unable to be released in a way that would make him feel better, would stop this.

“Is this as far as your resolve goes?” Brom asked, kicking up at Maddox again, though there was more anger in his action now. “I will not die in a cage beneath your stinking feet because you can’t accept a small outmaneuver!” Brom shouted at Maddox, not caring or noting that he was slipping into the dialectic of their small village. “Have you forgotten? Your purpose was never to save or serve Er Rai, but to defeat Arcturus and the council. If you were going to fold so easily I should have let Varia kill you.”

Varia and Sabre both turned their heads as Brom and Maddox began their exchange, Sabres eyes on his friends, concerned for the man, and Varias focused on his second, stern and suddenly full of questions. Before he could snap at the pair, Sabre had already called the remaining guards to them, standing to urgently whisper to them. If Varia recommended evacuations, then he would fucking do just that. They perhaps didn’t have the time, but Emeriss wasn't leveled just yet. As the men moved to prepare their mounts, Sabre moved back to the cell, peering up at Maddox, though he spoke to Varia. "Anything you know can help us. Even if these.... bombs have already been used."

Varia glanced over his shoulder to Sabre, before turning his head back to eye Brom and Maddox. He didn't quite understand the dialect those two were speaking. It was Arcturian, of some sort, but many places in Arcturus had their own dialect. The country spent many years not in contact with small villages, so it was natural that several languages formed. With a scowl, Varia turned his head back to Sabre. "I toured several facilities in Nihal and Arcturus with the inner circle, but... I'm afraid I hardly paid any attention." Varia said, before leaning back against the bars once more. "Though, I do know where the sites are located. Even the ones here." Sabre sighed heavily, not necessarily surprised Arcturus had bases in other countries, but especially surprised they seemed to be building bombs in these places. "If they have these... facilities here already, could they launch an attack from them?" Sabre asked. Varias nod made Sabres stomach clench, turning his gaze back to Maddox.

Maddox stood, thinking. Brom was right of course, Maddox knew. Even so, it didn’t ease the guilt and feeling of failure in his chest. It was just his pride, but that had been all he had for a long time. Even if Er Rai was second or third in his heart, it had still given him the opportunity to strike back at his enemies. That he had failed to protect them seem like poor gratitude indeed. He was dimly aware of the riders preparing to leave. He registered that Varia was confirming more bases, more bombs yet to be dispatched to carry out their dangerous purpose. But the question was what to do about it. His immediate thought was to hunt down these places and destroy them, but finding them would be difficult. Even if they did, then what? Most of his troops were in the capital, probably soon to be destroyed. What army did he have to storm such places, to hunt down the masterminds and slaughter them? Not to mention that if there were bases even in Er Rai, then that meant that there were traitors in places Maddox had barely set eyes on. People that he had protected had been working all this time to undermine him.

Maddox worked it out, the riders off and away in the direction of the capital. Brom looked to Varia, trying hard not to shrink under the other’s probing gaze. There were a lot of answers those eyes demanded be produced, and with due haste. “Why are you hesitating when you have an ace up your sleeve?” Brom asked Maddox in the same dialect. Maddox turned his head from his hand and looked down at Brom with a raised eyebrow. “Me and Varia. We’re all suppose to be dead now. The dead can move around a lot easier than the living.” Brom reminded him. As if Brom had hit upon something profound, Maddox’s eyes grew wide and he looked towards the direction of the capital. “Sabre, what time would we have arrived in the Capital if we kept going through the night?” Maddox asked, even while doing the calculations in his head. At the standard speed, even with the wariness of the new prisoners making them slow a bit to watch them….about….

One moment it was night, the next it was as if the sun had forgotten something and shot out of bed. The entire landscape lit up before them, blinding them for a moment as darkness chased the sun back to bed. But even temporarily blinded Maddox felt it in the wind. Like how a tsunami pulls the water out to sea before engulfing the land, so too the air seemed to rush towards the capital as if sucking in a big breath. Maddox blindly reached for his sword and pulled it free of the cage, yelling at those nearest, meaning only Sabre and the cage’s inhabitants, to get down and brace themselves. It timed it as well as he could based on feel, but even then knew that beyond their little group, most would not survive.

The blast from his sword hit the shockwave like a wall and split it, but not before tossing Maddox and company, cage and all, backwards across the fire which had guttered out. The forest around them flattened, a few young trees half-springing back while older ones cracked in half. Maddox hit the ground hard, the pain from one of his arms indicating a possible break. Brom had leapt to cover Varia, the cage providing protection as well as its own dangers. A branch had slid through and cut Brom on the side. Deep enough to need attention, though not enough to bleed out quickly.

The combination of Brom selflessly shielding Varia, Maddox’s shield, and the cage had saved Varia from any sort of serious wound. He had smacked his head against the bars of his cell fairly hard, resulting in a slow trickle of blood beginning to drip down his forehead, but he was fine save that. Sabre had been blown back by the force of the shockwave, smashing his back against a tree, which, surprisingly, withstood the blast. A shaky breath left him as the dust finally began to settle. The cell had tipped onto its side, the small crater Maddox had made causing that, and it had slid quite a ways before being stopped when its wheels caught on upturned roots from a tree that had been ripped from the ground. Laying in the dirt where it had slid, were the talismans used to prevent Varia from being able to access his abilities.

Varia slowly shifted to his feet, his eyes glowing through the red staining his face, his gaze turning towards the north. In the distance, now visible from the shattered trees, was Emeriss. Or at least where she had once stood. It was too far to properly judge the extent of the damage, but the glow of the city assured the group that Emeriss was burning. It stood stark against the blackened sky, glowing a deep, blood red, and though the forest had grown eerily silent, it was almost as if they could hear the screams. Varia wiped at the blood on his face, turning his back towards the glow in the north. That bomb was meant for him and Brom. He knew that, and so did his current companions. He could feel his anger bubbling in his gut once more, but the sudden surge of power he felt rush through his frame snapped him from his homicidal thoughts. His eyes moved downwards towards his own shadow, watching as the dark began to twitch and twist, as if it were stretching. He was no longer weakened, and now, coupled with his own anger towards his country, the shadows in the immediate area grew darker, as if answering a silent call from their master. Without a word, a tendril of shadows lifted from the ground, now solid, swirling angrily as it lifted, wrapping around the bars on the door. With a sudden jerk, the door was ripped from its hinges, the damaged steel groaning as it smashed into the ground several yards away, effectively releasing Varia into the dark forest. A quick glance towards Brom was given, eyes taking in the blood blossoming on the mans side, before Varia was on the move, stepping out of the cage, and turning a harsh glare towards a wounded Maddox.

Sabre had moved towards his friend, still disoriented from the blast itself, his hands shaking as he gently touched him, assuring himself Maddox hadn't died in the sudden explosion. He had hardly noticed Varia, his ears ringing so loudly, he wouldn't have heard if someone shouted directly into them. But as he peered down at the mans mangled arm, the shadow he cast on his partners body suddenly darkened, twisting, before pulling away from him, and towards their left. Sabres eyes quickly shot up, widening as they fell on the form of Varia, the demon of Arcturus, looking exactly as that. Varia had begun to move towards them, not pausing as Sabre suddenly held his hands forward. "Varia... what are you doing?" He managed to get out, as the tiny man stopped next to them, staring down at his foe. "That bomb was meant for you, Varia. We can help you, you know we can help you. If you're going to take the fight to Arcturus, you'll need all the help you can get. Maddox is just as powerful as you, and you can--"

"Shut up." Varia cut him off, before slowly lowering to a crouch next to Maddox, his eyes moving over his body, before resting on his arm. "Get up. We need to move. Arcturus will be sending in troops to assess the damage done, and we need to be far from here when they arrive." He suddenly said, causing Sabres eyebrows to punch together in confusion. Was he.... not going to murder them? His mind was suddenly filled with questions, but a sharp look from Varia quieted him. He glanced down to Maddox once more, before slowly shifting to his feet. By the time Varia came over to him, Maddox had at least managed to lift himself into a sitting position. There were still significant black spots in his vision and the world spun besides. That was not including the pain radiating from his arm and head from the recoil and being thrown. But all of this was less problematic than the drawback from his power which had left him feeling incredibly weak. Even if he wanted to leap to his feet he couldn’t. Usually he didn’t expend so much power and so the consequences were usually limited to a small area of his body. But that shockwave had been strong and to counter it even as much as he had required almost all of his strength to push back. So even as Varia came closer, radiating danger and malice, Maddox could do nothing to stop him from whatever he planned to do. Luckily, perhaps, Varia had awareness of the situation enough not to kill his strongest ally at the moment. Even so, Maddox glared up at him as the other suggested they get a move on. “Having the demon of Arcturus shown concern….I’m regretting saving your ass already.” Maddox spat. Varia stared down his nose at Maddox, and for a long moment Sabre truly thought he would kill the both of them, which would be the end of both of them. Maddox was in no position to defend himself if Varia suddenly turned on him, and the fact that Varia hadn't already attacked him made the situation even more obscure to Sabre. But soon his attention turned towards Brom as his second hauled himself from the cage, allowing Sabre to take a deep breath.

Besides the four of them there wasn’t a living soul about. If any animals had survived the blast they were long gone, and all of the soldiers were unaccounted for. At least, in total. Bits and pieces of some were strewn about, most had probably been blasted pretty far. Brom slowly got to his feet, shuffling over to the others, still gingerly holding his side. “Can you move?” Brom asked Maddox on the ground, taking in the other’s injuries. “Are you offering to carry me?” Maddox returned. “Not while you’re conscious.” Brom bit back, glancing around again. Brom turned to Sabre. “We need a cave, someplace safe and little known. Is there such a place around here?”

"The old smugglers underground trail passes through this area. I haven't been since it was raided, and that was a long time ago." Sabre said, squinting into the trees. "I'm certain it's been overgrown by now, but it shouldn't be to difficult to find." Sabre watched the pair of Arcturians closely, before a heavy sigh left him. "We could travel most of Er Rai underground in the passages. There's structures and water... and its difficult to find an entrance, and even if someone did, it'd be difficult to find us." Sabre offered, causing Varia to finally turn his head away from Maddox to scowl at him. "I intend to take you two as far as your next town, no further." He said, before turning away from the group, snatching a bag from the remains of their camp. "I can't be too sure, but the passage was should he near. It’ll be marked with a boulder, and a symbol..." Sabre said, reaching down to draw the piece in the dirt below his feet, though his eyes continued to follow Varia as the commander busied himself. "We need to keep our eyes open. It's safe there, and we need to look over wounds, and not in the open."

Brom studied the marking Sabre made in the dirt closely before rubbing it out with his foot. “We’re moving in two minutes.” Brom said to the pair before going to help Varia scour the remains of the camp. Varia, barely looked at him. He felt if he did he would begin asking questions Brom didn’t want to answer just yet. He wasn’t sure what that language was, or when Maddox and Brom became so friendly. He was half convinced he didn’t want to know. After all, two betrayals in one day could very well tip the scale in his already fragile mind. He ignored the other, not speaking as he packed what he could, before turning back towards Maddox and Sabre. Maddox was leaning on Sabre heavily, but was at least on his feet. It would have to be good enough, for they couldn’t linger much longer.

Varia turned from the burning city once Brom joined them, the two of them slowly picking their way over downed trees. Maddox and Sabre lingered for a moment, both men turned towards where the great golden city once stood. Shadows flickered across the remains of the forest floor, drawing emerald eyes to them. Maddox drew a deep breath, before he turned, leaning on his partner for support as the two began to move after the Arcturians who hadn’t turned back, away from Emeriss. Away from Maddox’s home. Away from the city that was meant to never fall. He didn’t look back a second time.

#story #original #oc #fantasywar #high fantasy #fantasy novel #dark fantasy #fantasy #fanfic #enemies to lovers #war #worldbuilding #psychological trauma #trauma #writers #chapter 1 #give me feedback #ocs #my ocs #politics #yaoi #agnst #adventure #action #angst #ao3feed #smut #secret #demon

[alarawriting]

April’s Dream House

Back when Aqua Teen Hunger Force was on the air, I thought about how to create a sardonic animated comedy for adults that centered around female characters, possibly even having no male characters, the way that ATHF had no female characters. My high concept was a Barbie doll who has to open up her home to an assortment of other toys, where behind the scenes presumably a little girl with a very dark sense of humor was telling these stories.

Eventually I added male characters, and gave up on the dream of making it an animation, since I can’t draw and I don’t really have access to people who can who have time to do something like this. I still kind of hope to make it a comic book or something like that, though, because this would be funnier if it’s visual.

Anyway, I’ve decided to post what I have of the concept because I think it’s funny.

Cast:

April (April and Friends) (Based on Barbie)

Sheonte (Divazz) (based on Bratz)

Catrina (Weargirls) (Based on Monster High)

Kerry Kitty/Kelly Kitty (Japanese mascot character, Kerry/Kelly Kitty and Friends) (Based on Hello Kitty)

Cherry Blossom (Best Pony Friends) (Based on My Little Pony)

Doktor Zapp (Playstuf mad scientist lab set) (based on Playmobil)

Lovey (an elderly, non-franchised, stuffed puppy)

Emily Egg (Emily Egg, line of small baby dolls with furniture) (based on Penelope Peapod)

Chad (April and Friends) (Based on Ken from Barbie)

Steve (Real American Heroes) (based on GI Joe)

Meet April. One of America’s most beloved celebrities, April has been, over the course of her lengthy career, a nurse, a neurosurgeon, an astronaut, a firefighter, a rocket scientist, CEO of a company, owner of a restaurant, a police detective, a model, a rock star, and an actress. Also, a mother figure to her three younger sisters, Betty, Courtney and Madison. (One wonders where her mom is.) But the sad secret to April’s incredibly varied career is that she is too big of an asshole to keep a job. She’s incredibly smart, sarcastic, and cruel to anyone she thinks is intellectually or socially beneath her, which is everyone. She’s also addicted to uppers, and doesn’t sleep, like, ever.

Though she’s remarkably talented, her equal talent for pissing people off has gotten her blacklisted from several industries lately, and so, facing foreclosure on her magnificent Dream House mansion, April is forced to… ugh… take in housemates.  Thus, the plot of April’s Dream House begins with April reluctantly inviting others into her home to help her pay the mortgage.

Appearance: White, tall, long blonde hair, blue eyes. Wears a lot of classic fashion, rich white lady from old money type stuff. Also a lot of things like sparkling white tennis outfits and the like. Huge boobs, tiny waist.

Housemates at April’s Dream House include:

Sheonte: Part of the Divazz team of fashion designers, journalists and adventurers, but the Divazz have broken up recently, the result of internal lawsuits and sexual shenanigans involving each other’s husbands. The Divazz and April’s entourage considered each other top competitors ten years ago, to the point of being at “war”, so Sheonte and April kind of low-key hate each other, but Sheonte needs a place to live ever since she caught her husband Jax having sex with her best friend Vivi, attacked them both brutally with her shoes and then ran into the night screaming. Jax has chosen not to press charges but has a restraining order against Sheonte, so she’s sort of stuck looking for a place to live, and all her other friends have taken Vivi’s side.

Appearance: Black, shorter than April, has a big beautiful fro that she occasionally does up in dreads. Very urban style, hip-hop look, also wears shoes with absolutely ridiculous spiked heels. Does not have as exaggerated a figure as April. When she is first introduced, she has no feet, since she attacked her friend and her husband with her shoes and Divazz’s shoes are part of their feet, but she acquires a wide assortment of feet very quickly.

Catrina: The Weargirls were top fashion models who all happened to be animal shapeshifters. Catrina, to no one’s surprise, is a cat. She thinks she’s supposed to live up to this, frequently making cat puns and throwing random meows into her conversation. Catrina thinks she’s tough, but really isn’t. Tries to start shit with her housemates. April and Sheonte bond over how immature she is and how the Weargirls are total ripoffs of their own thing. Catrina decided to move in because none of the Weargirls have a dream house; the best they’ve got is Batrice’s creepy mansion (Batrice being a bat shapeshifter, and also a vampire. With vampire parents.)

Appearance: Long, straight black hair. Body and face design is “race-coded” to look Latina, but she has tabby markings on her skin and cat eyes and ears.

Kerry/Kelly Kitty: Kelly herself refers to herself as Kerry and Kelly interchangeably. Kerry is a Japanese mascot character who is a cat. She is a white cat with a smile who is often seen doing the maneki neko beckon thing with her paw; is only vaguely anthro in that she is bipedal and has a much bigger head in comparison to body than a cat (or than a human, or a human doll). Kelly is very amiable and friendly, but is tired of having her life micromanaged by her agents. She is a huge celebrity in Japan, but less well known in the US, and is thrilled that sometimes people don’t know who she is. Has a pet named Chibineko, which she freely admits is a ridiculous name (it means “little cat”; apparently her American agents stuck her with the name. She wanted to name it Unagi, because it squirms out of her vaguely anthro arms like a little eel.) Catrina often tries to pick fights with her because “catfight”, but Kerry just laughs.

Appearance: Is a bipedal white cat with a really big head. Mostly dresses in a very casual style but has a bunch of kimonos from home she likes to wear around the house when she feels like being comfy. Never wears shoes. Has cat feet and paws, but somehow manages opposable thumb tasks. Unlike the real Hello Kitty, Kelly does in fact have a mouth.

Cherry Blossom: Is a pony. Pink, with a white mane that’s tied up with a big pink flower hair clip. Cherry Blossom comes from a land of friendship and sharing, and is a bit miffed that in this new world she has to give pony rides and act in stupid Disney movies to make a living. She’s kind of bitter because she was flung into another dimension years ago and none of her so called friends have come to rescue her. And by kind of bitter, I mean she’s a giant bitch.

Doktor Zapp: Rents the basement, which he’s converted into his new lab. Doktor Zapp is rather resentful that he’s been cast as some sort of malevolent mad scientist, performing horrible experiments on the human body, when all he wants to do is create the perfect cyborg. His previous lab got trashed by a twenty-foot-tall dog that chewed on most of the lab equipment; he barely got away with his life by hiding under a gigantic couch. Now he’s trying to rebuild his life. He does government contracting for a living.

Appearance: Smaller than all the others because he’s a playset action figure. White hair in a bowl cut, pale skin, dark glasses he never takes off. Always seen in a lab coat, green shirt and black pants.

Lovey: Is a hound dog. A stuffed puppy that was adorable once, but now she’s elderly, her coat patchy and fraying, stuffing leaking, one eye pointing in a different direction than the other. Lovey’s kind of perpetually sad because her owner went to high school and started ignoring her, and then went away to college and never came back.

Emily Egg: Is a baby doll, but close to the same size as the fashion dolls, just proportioned like a baby. Emily doesn’t talk much, and when she does, it’s kind of baby babble, but she is friendly and cheerful. Has sort of latched onto April as a quasi mother figure. Is also great friends with Lovey. Emily sleeps in an egg-shaped basket.

Chad: Is April’s “boyfriend”. He’s handsome, stylish and romantic, and very gentlemanly; he’s never pushed her to have sex. He’s a model, an actor, and the lead singer of a teen-beloved boyband. He’s also completely and totally gay, and April is the only one who doesn’t know it, but he is afraid of ruining his career if he comes out because he works for Disney-esque child-friendly networks.

Steve: Is April’s other boyfriend, the one she is cheating on Chad with. Steve is an ex-Marine, smart, tough and rugged. He’s also bi. He knows of Chad’s existence but thinks Chad is a jerk for not coming out to April and breaking up with her, because he, like everyone on the planet but April, knows that Chad is gay. When he actually meets Chad, he finds to his shock that he actually likes the guy. Steve and Chad both end up breaking up with April and marrying each other; she gets to be Best Woman. April remains friends with them both but cries a lot about the whole thing.

#april's dream house