One Of The Flaws Of All Mortals Was Their Impending Ability To Lose Sight Far Too Quickly. So Adept To

There is always defectors, those unable to handle the power and weight that the asphodel offers. It has never carried a moniker for misfits and miscreants in the way that so many consider it. It was not a comfort that home could not give - the asphodel was a want, a dire need and for those who lacked the impervious determination to build something of themselves, would always fall through the cracks. Fodder for the book. Pythia had heard the whispers - the thoughts that spun within Marcella's mind and while Eric turned his back, true that he would never rise to be enough, the witch before her was a different story. "The darkness will always follow.." She whispers, barely audible as she looks upon the young woman. "It will never be me, that's in need, Marcella." One way or another, the book would find her again - in death, or to return the gift of power she now sought to turn away from.

Person: @fxllenpythia Location: Haus Asphodel She is packing and she thinks everyone knows it. Thankfully everyone is busy enough minding their own business. That's something they all seem really keen on doing, it should have been a sign from the beginning. They all come together to cause chaos but she has seen time and time again how each member of the coven seems to have their own agenda, their own ambitions. She's got her own agenda and staying with the Asphodel isn't going to help her one bit, not anymore. Marcella is gathering her things, some books and tucking them away into a bag of holding when she catches a shadow darkening her door, one that makes her nearly freeze. The Pythia is someone she has skirted around, someone with far too much power. "Did you need something?" It's an innocent question, it is soft, she is not afraid, not so much anymore.

 Proof once more, that those among mortals - humans and creatures alike, remained the hypocritical downfall that would lead to their own ruin. Pythia watched from within his mind as the senate conducted such damning practice that they might otherwise condemn another for. Another wretch among many that she believed highlighted their undeserved coven over this realm. It was certainly enough to draw a sliver of rage into the breadth of her chest. “Not yet, and certainly not if I have anything to do with it.” She muttered as she pulled Dominic further into his own mind - a safe haven where chains did not beguile him.  It felt like years, since she’d done as much for him. Years a captive of the eye had seen her present more often than not within his thoughts, however; his release had been something she needed to see from the outside. A witness to how far they’d twisted him. Admittedly, she’d missed him. “One would think you’d see that I’m not quite done with you yet.” Was he ready? To be both monster and man? His memories returned to him, Pythia knew the collision of the two would warrant a war all it’s own, and yet - “You still have purpose, Dom. When the time is right, I’ll be the one to point you in the right direction.” In her/ direction.

@fxllenpythia​

There was silence, the one that came when a wound was great enough to throw a vampire into that random state of limbo. Or at least, that’s what Dominic thought it was. The Senate could do whatever to him, but there were chains once more, something similar to what he’d known with the Eye. Were they much different? Perhaps not, but a Leech was always put down sooner rather than later. Dominic was pushed beneath something that would limit his power, but he didn’t want to escape. There was a difference, and if he’d truly fought, he would’ve gone down kicking and screaming. There was just a reservation to his fate; a reminder that he was a monster. He didn’t want to be one, however. He used to know love, he used to know friendship – family – until it was torn from him by the eye. Four decades of torture, of pulling him apart, molding him into the perfect hunter of his own kind. And death that he’d carried out – a purpose, until he’d taken his life back. 

She was there, again, standing in front of him, and Dominic lifted his head, the chains gone from around his wrists, his midsection, “Am I dead?” he asked with a barely there smile, the humor not lost on him as he figured he had to be within his head. A voice that was there, that he used to think was fake – “Why are you still bothering with me, Pythia?”

She’s alerted long before she arrives. Along with Ayi’ig and the growing number of their ranks, little more breathed within the Otherworld now without their knowing. This, however, did not force her to find him quickly. For centuries, all that she could draw to her with little more than a whisper had driven many a wedge between Octavian and those he called family - Nettelia, Lucretia, and now Oztalun. Much like so many of her Blessed siblings, the righteousness of the Archdruid would always draw her to wreck havoc where havoc could burn ever so brightly. “You come to my home, and decide the best way to announce yourself is to throw a tantrum, Octavian?” Her voice echoes, she is everywhere and nowhere. “Tsk tsk,” the chide rises in tandem with a fervent laugh until shadows unfurl and Pythia rises, “Did Oztalun truly teach you no manners?”

where?: he can’t find the necromansion but he’s gonna light the place up until he does

██

Passage into the pillaged Otherworld was supposed to be a one time thing, but now he needed it. The Guardian was reluctant to grant Octavian’s wish for reasons unbeknownst to him, perhaps he saw what dwelled within or perhaps he was just a coward. Octavian would’ve like to find out for it may have helped him on his journey, but he would be alone in this. He had questions that needed answers, opinions that needed to be shared, anger that needed to be released, and faces he needed to see for himself. The phoenix blazes through the dark wreckage, knowing that he won’t be able to find the location or the one he seeks at all. But the whispers are calmed by his proximity to the Necromanteion, providing him the peace of mind necessary to make himself known with his full power. His fire will consume all, his shrieks will echo endlessly, and Octavian will not yield until he gets a response. This meeting of predators was long overdue.

@fxllenpythia​

"Honestly," hues shift over the silver tray she carries, "i couldn't tell you, some kind of nectar, i think? I don't seem to be making it too far before it's all gone so it must be good." To which, the tray would then suddenly be refilled. "Would you like one? It's been a while since I've seen you." Something that had always stuck with the sovereign, even now, she lived as a phantom of her own coven.

who? @fxllenpythia where? near the food

"What are you carrying, Sovereign Pythia?" She asks as she approaches Asphodel's sovereign. It's odd really, for a long moment she had almost thought that she was from Alstroemeria, but if she was, why would she had ever left the coven? Clearly the drinks are beginning to get to her head.

"You're talking to the great deceiver, and foolishness has never been my downfall before." If the fact that she still stood - eons after she fell, after the plight of the old gods, the first destruction of the book. The greater demon was without a doubt, a plague upon the world of mortals and all those beyond. This was nothing new - rather, a new war, indeed. "Your concern is noted, but I sleep upon silken sheets of blood with the most wretched lovers at my beck and call - perhaps you're merely projecting." Her smile is wrought with tongue and cheek. Petty insults and proclamations do not make her waiver. "Is that what you want, Pluto - do you want to hurt me?" Again, where civil conversation cannot exist, Pythia exerts the goad in a rather childlike manner. "Agree to disagree then, shall we? Until you decide to use that bite for something other than clenching your jaw and brooding in darkened corners at least." A brow rose, defiant in nature, "I know what I want and what I deserve, that's all it comes down to."

"Don't be fooled, Pythia, words can be deceiving," and words can lead to false assumptions. Yes, he'd been all about love and loyalty, of keeping those he held dear safe, simply because of what happened to Cyra and how he'd failed her back then. Now, after the great war, technically but also not 15 years later, he saw Pythia as nothing more than an ambitious creature of immense hatred. What the world had to offer them would never be enough, what they desired would only lead to complete destruction. "I just think you need a good night's rest and get fucked nicely," he wasn't being serious, but a part of him just didn't care. "Kore's gone, I'm not opposed to hurting her allies," the original vampire shrugged. They could probably spew venom at each other for years to come, but Pluto didn't really desire to keep thinking about his captivity, his broken body and soul. "never lost it," in all honesty he was hungrier than ever, "and you? I see nothing can keep you down. How unfortunate."

Even as the horrid nickname that once adorned her echoed throughout the otherworld, Leviathan was aware of the intrusion. Something within the darkness pulled forth an abyss of silence - a black hole swallowing every sound as she approached. The stringent tendrils of shadow pooled at her feet, hissing, not unlike water to a heated surface, and disappearing completely as she eyed this creature with a warm smile. The absence of light seems to lift slightly, "Better to ask forgiveness, than permission, clearly" Pythia states, indignant call to the fact that he'd already made the assumption. She tilts her head, looking over the stranger and the beasts at his side retain their composure - awaiting a command that never comes. The tone of her voice is rather soft, the glimmer of her jagged edge smile forming in the corner of her mouth, "Foolish of me, to perhaps hope that only good thoughts accompanied the name. Call me whatever you like, if only for a name in return."

@fxllenpythia location: The Otherworld notes: so proud of this ambitious queen

Wow it sure was dark out here. Ganymede had never been to or seen the Otherworld - but was it always so spooky? Everything seemed to be very friendly though, he was accompanied now by a menagerie of very kindly ferocious monsters. "Levi?" Gany called out, a little timid. They hadn't met, but she was always his favourite child. He was looking forward to bringing her home and getting the family back together again. "Oh, good, there you are," he said with a sigh of relief, "your father told me he always used to call you Levi in his head, is it okay if I call you that?"

@domxbirchall​ location: some dive bar

“I’ve gotta say, being a free man suits you far more than I remembered.” Her presence is not one that she’s announced, rather shifting through the shadows of the dimly lit bar and seemingly manifesting in the booth seating across from him. Regardless of the new face she wears, Pythia knows that recognition would at least flicker beneath the surface of whichever thought plagues him now. “How did you manage?”

@sethlozano location: necro world

Little more than the corner of Leviathan's mouth gave way to the satisfaction that each night brought forth. While the senate and their forces used the night to recoup, it was undoubtedly where they fared the greatest feat of all. Nothing turned the tides worse than fear and lunacy and as Pythia finds him among her coven, she greets him as an old friend, "Once more, I find myself impressed with your progression," August's depth of knowledge had never disappointed, and when she'd instructed Tepiltzin to source one of her own for an upgrade of sorts on his vampiric existence, the seraphim knew they would not be left hoping for more. "You'll be revered as you once were soon enough, we all will."

A sentiment they'd shared for centuries, undoubtedly. Disappointment was not something he ever offered to her and regardless of where the coming days would lead them - Leviathan would never doubt his desire for survival and all that came with it. "Good, when we're successful, we'll bathe in rivers of blood and all those who banished you will suffer their regret, my love." Already, battle regalia sick with crimson, thousands more would bleed and though the taste of it lingered upon her tongue, it was far sweeter when mottled with the taste of him in the kiss she steals, "It'll all be ours, soon enough."

Arakhor's fingers slide along Leviathan's jaw, this form that they'd chosen a worthy one for the time being. He grinned slightly, autumn magic swirling around them, fueled by blood magic and the noble elven blood that used to run through him. Eladrin needed the boost that this dark magic gave them, and as long as he and his brother survived, then all was well. "Of course. There's nothing that I would rather be doing," he grinned, thinking of all the seraphim that would meet death at their hands. If only there were more within Rome, it would've been a worthy cause. Titania had children here that needed to be killed, one a sorry human and one a spawn from a fiend.

NATASHA O'KEEFFE as LANFEAR in WHEEL OF TIME 2.08