Ips work reader

if u see this ignore. i have access from work so i use it to dump stuff here that i might wanna read in work

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The blast seemed like a spiral of living sound, echoing some sort of screeching melody in goldenrod and amber all across the dark blanket of the gloomy night. Divankul’s true magical sight was coming even clearer into focus, and now she was getting serious, the more dense with power a spell was, the more vivid the coloration became. He had little shot of guarding himself from the assault, so he did nothing, and let it hit him with the full force of a detonation shockwave. He naturally dissipated into a fine mist of what could be construed as his body, that was how this whole thing worked, and in another second afterwards, all particles still being kept aloft by sheer momentum despite the drastic shift in velocity, they all snapped back into their proper configuration and Divankul could feel his stomach drop as he spiraled a massive accumulation of light into his right fist and went to hook into the beast’s jaw.

P- She flattened herself at that very moment, dropping her levitation and letting herself fall not only downwards, but also leaning backward so that she was completely horizontal as his body passed over her. She glinted a toothy smile as Divan noticed he couldn’t move quite as fast as she could at this moment, and she used this blink of an eye to snatch his ankle, and like a rock, they both splashed into the lapping waves.

The sinking was quick, very quick, it was less sinking and more the Lilin pulling him down and away from the shore, deep down, she was damn quick at it too, they had only sank a few seconds in and he could already feel the pressure being to build on his body. But, after the shock of the last few seconds and the cold abyss wore off, Divan had control once more and dissolved his legs to quickly shift away and begin his casting of a special containment ritual. All around the field of battle, new lights like stars in the sky began to develop, and from each node of brilliance, beams began to fire off to connect all across the expanse. A constellation of epic proportions meant to ensnare and ultimately dissolve The Lilin in burning radiant power.

P- The problem was that this all took time, energy, and [i]power[/i] far too much for Divankul to consistently keep his magical form active. At that moment, like a shark that smelled the reek of fresh blood, this bitch was already on top of him in a matter of moments after the light show had begun, and he felt his nose shatter before he saw whatever actually hit him. He could feel all the cartilage just crumple upon impact and all the concentration, and more importantly, the mana used, was now wasted as all Divan could do was feel excruciating levels of pain and swim away as fast as he properly could, clutching the mashed in flesh that used to be his nose.

Things seemed to spiral after that, the stars didn’t quite leave Divnakul’s vision, even as he began to reconstruct the tissue and ease the pain after a few seconds. He had pushed power through the bottom of his feet and out through his boots, bursting through the waters at high speeds through wind magics. But he could see a malevolent blur of color coming for him and coming for him quickly. He realized that the Lilin was a much more proficient shapechanger than he had given her credit for, and the aura she exuded was ferocious. She was finally beginning to take things seriously with him, but she was also fighting like a hungry animal, not like a more proper opponent. He could fight against that, he could win against that brainlessness. However, he could also more clearly take account of what form she’d chosen, and it made the color drain from his face as blood began to run cold.

[Insert Lilin’s appearance as she races towards Div with her clawed hand ready to gouge]

As with all things, the wizard was prepared to evade and entangle, and as the beast’s claws tried to find purchase, suddenly there was nothing left to actually eviscerate, and instead he was all around her, sprouting magma snakes from every concentration of his being. The waters boiled and foamed as many monstrosities of fiery rock and fire attempted to lance this predatory nightmare from all sides.

He wasn’t fast enough, and she spiraled herself about through the smallest of openings and swam at such frightening speeds back up to the surface. He knew she would be waiting for him, so he took his time swimming back up, charging his own mighty assault on the water, ready to blitz her the moment he breached. He formed himself back into a mortal and surrounded himself with the clockwork mechanisms of power, and formed them into tiny missiles intent on flooding the entire space of that thing’s being with power so that she could not just skirt around her fate this time, but upon breaching he found her to be back in that mockery of Elmer, and with something barely luminous hanging over his head.

Divankul fired off everything he had, just as the strange sphere knocked toward him, eating a mass of arrows in the process. He hoped the rest would be dense enough to stop her from dancing about the sky for a brief second while he engaged his hands and made a grab to catch the ball of vampirism hurled straight at him. He did, but it was also painful, as it stole a fraction of himself with each pursuant second he kept a hold, but it was better than taking it head on, and he rolled and cast the burst aside, watching it dissipate a few feet away. He then turned and came to see that he had actually gotten at least a glancing strike out at this freak. His vision was getting blurrier, the lines of the colors were beginning to blend together and make it harder to focus, the longer this went on the stronger each of them became.

Divankul was not becoming strong enough fast enough to keep up with a baseline he was already behind on. She was still just toying around with him, playing, treating this like something of a game, making a night of it, demonstrating herself as the superior. It was pissing him off, badly, and so he began to internally configure how to truly break this bitch of her confidence, then he saw a massive fucking rock hurtling straight towards him in the brief gasps of moments they had both been in suspension of.

With little time to react, Divankul’s first instincts kicked in, and it was probably the wrong choice, as points of pure magical output formed along his open palms, and suddenly the force of ten thousand cannons erupted and pulverized the sedimentary ballistic. With some level of panting and a bit of tunneling to his vision, he was only then able to come to the understanding that she had simply let him keep going about this like it was some sort of charade. He looked up at her, and she glinted that wry chesire rin all over again as a new form began to take her place on Terros, and this one made Divankul realize something he should have understood long ago.

He was outmatched.

[Insert the Goddess Transformation sequence here]

Divankul knew it was a taunt, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was doing everything in his power to end this, because if [i]he[/i] couldn’t beat her, there would be no hope for anyone in this world. Though she was far from him, he began to race along the water, and he brought it all together, everything he could muster, proof that he had grown and that he was able to stand among the gods. He’d show her what it really meant to have mastery over all of magic, he’d destroy her with it.

The old man grew two new arms as he raced along, and these arms in unison with his natural appendages began to have their fingers dance along at light speed creating ten-dimensional shapes that were completely comprised of the full illogical capacity of all that magic was, ever could be, or any of the other possibilities, both past and future. They were the cumulative focuses of all that Divankul knew, and he compressed them into highly condensed balls of pure might, and flung them hard and fast upward towards this [b]monter’s[/b] ‘midsection’.

He could almost weep as he watched them ripple like a stone on the lake, they had made contact, but this hide was so thick and so empowered it had done little more than bruise her flesh if at all. Then, as if to nail the point home, and to make a mockery of all that Divankul was, this fucked up oaf of a sea beast reached under the waves and grabbed hold of a gigantic shelf of coral reef, and threw it right fucking at him. There was no moving away, no turning to light, no powering through. There was only getting crushed by the monolith carcass of a hundred thousand aquatics, and it struck true, Divankul stopped in his tracks and tried to let himself fall to the water headfirst, and braced his legs in a ninety-degree angle to, in vain, push the entire substrate back up with his legs to protect himself.

He couldn’t quite be sure what had happened next, but all the coloration of reality blurred together into an uncanny mess as the sheer pain of excess hit him. It was as if he were up against Jason once again, and he hadn’t grown at all since then. As things began to almost go dark within, as if by instinct, Divnakul managed to force himself into teleporting back above the waves now that he suddenly had the power to move the mass of his body, which was odd because he still needed time to move all of himself, so something had clearly gone wrong.

It had indeed gone horribly wrong, his clothes were shorn at the waist, and for good reason, as he could see his entrails nearly falling out of the bottom of himself as he floated at eye level near the false goddess that was The Lilin. He began to do the bare minimum to keep all his guts stuffed up into his torso as he could, he could taste only copper and bile in his mouth, light flashed in his eyes, and his head pounded away like a sledgehammer. If he didn’t solve this right now, he wasn’t making it out of here at all, and he knew that fact. This was too big of a threat, and he needed to put his entire back into this. So he did, using only the basics to keep himself floating there, the rest of his concentration shot straight for the most powerful skill he could muster in his mind right now, and that’s when the memory of his conversation with Jason lanced through his mind like a bullet.

If that was the epitome of true power, then so be it, he’d recreate it, even if he didn’t quite know how. He’d make a new sun and hurl it straight on at her. As well, it was as if the monstrous goddess thought to wait and see, so she submerged herself to her shoulders, and plodded about in the water, paddling her hands in idle patience just waiting for this ragged figure to do something to her. That only angered Divankul more, that she thought so little of him, like a bemused bystander watching the domesticated beasts at the circus, waiting to see their tricks and performances. Divankul hated her so fucking much, hated all that she stood for, and used that rage to fuel his ambitions if he could properly strike her, this might all be over…

The elf kept his eyes locked in with Lilin’s ebony globes for eyes, his own having long since stopped changing in coloration and retained a brilliant golden that shone out from behind. Without any more thoughts on that matter, he poured everything he had into recreating the majesty of that glowing ball of fire that raced like a chariot through the skies of that war-torn Aradian landscape. In the dim night sky, it suddenly became utter, blinding, daylight. He had fucking [i]done[/i] it. He’d managed to recreate a fragment of the terramancy that had always stood in his way of the pinnacle of creation. It wasn’t perfect, it was only a recreation based on magical theory and the bending of the rules fo normal reality, it would only last a few moments before the configuration adherence took effect and neutralized this sin against the orderly nature of the plane, but that was enough.

The burning hot ball of radiance was big enough that if he landed this just right, he’d burn away that bitch’s head, and by the time she could regenerate it, he could pound her down and actually stand a chance, or regenerate his own body and flee, and grab the others to help him finish her off. He had no time to waste in his endeavors, and he flung the burning hot ball downwards at frightening velocities only gods could protect against.

[insert the Lilin’s reaction to this assault]

That was as effective as Divankul could hope it to be, but it wasn’t enough for him to abandon this fight so soon. He sighed and began to refocus his energy into reconstructing his body, breathing raggedly, and thinking in doubt that he could continue, especially if the monster was given enough time to regenerate herself. With a moment of clarity, the old man thought to do two things, in one he flew down close to the crest of the waves, and as his body rebuilt itself and reclothed its naked form, he carried out the second thing. If he could crush her in the deep depths of the Sorrows, he might trap her for long enough for someone to realize what was happening on this side of the world, as they had certainly created ripples and quakes, and Drake was no slouch, he at least would come to investigate.

He had to come to terms with the fact he couldn’t do this by himself, but he could hold the line until help arrived, he’d done it before, he could do it again, he could keep her busy. He hated all of this, he was supposed to be the only one who could truly guard Terros all by himself, and yet here he was abandoning it all and hoping that help would arrive if he held things long enough.

“Die in the depths you call your nest, you belligerent void eel!” Divankul could feel parts of his internal body rupture as he put every iota of strength into summoning a gravity well strong enough to form planets to rocks and moons to pebbles. He could already feel his mouth foam, his vision completely blur out and tunnel, and everything in his body screaming at him as he forced all the magic to crush this bitch beneath the waves and beneath his tremendous control of space. She would have to remain here, and so would he, until more would come and finally put an end to this stupid game this false creature chose to play.

P- But then, like she had been doing this entire time, Divankul was made a mockery once more, and this time it was a crushing and brutal affair in the most humiliating sense. First came the guttural roar, the bellowing of a great mawed beast infuriated by the insolence of its prey to cause so much agitation and pain. It was the noise of a predator fed up with the wily finagling of its dinner and the call for an abrupt end to the farce. That was also when a gigantic tail breached the waves behind Divankul, and though he knew it was coming, he could not break free fast enough to doge, and all the wind was knocked right out of him as his back was broken and he was net hurtling down into the depths of the water, suddenly wrapped like a vice by the same appendage, and he was set through whiplash as the Lilin began to draw them both down into the inky blackness, roiling and spinning at high speeds, so much that the wizard could not hope to find any salvation and was left completely helpless in the clutches of the might abomination.

[Insert the Lilin’s Lair, I can’t do it justice]

There was enough wherewithal that Divan was able to move his body a short distance and stifle his breathing as his body recovered in the abundance of magic that was the Void. He was not sure how long he was fading in and out, but it would seem that due to the wound inflicted upon her flesh by him in the first place, she couldn’t concentrate or detect exactly where he was. However, it was still [b]her[/b] domain and it was only a matter of time before she rooted him out and took him apart. He could keep regenerating point for point, but what would stop her from just rendering him immobile and stuck while they were trapped in her plane?

He had to finish this, and he knew just how, and this time it couldn’t take some long-winded incantation and a bunch of extra power output from an outside source. He’d annihilate her and her realm and add her powers to his own. Or, failing that, wound her so badly she’d have to spend days regenerating, and he could go back home and get help. Drake and Metheryl would know how to fight her down and he could focus on just keeping her busy at that rate, either way, he’d win, either wound her so badly she couldn’t follow him back, or she’d be dead outright and he’d fly back home with all the accolades for himself.

So he began, quietly he let the power precipitate, he slunk further away from his own site of casting, and tried to bounce the magic off of the glittering crystals that littered this rank, infested blood pit. He hoped that by coalescing his power in all different regions she wouldn’t be able to sniff him out, she’d be blinded by her own miasma through the cavern. But it also meant he was exerting everything he had, he was vulnerable, and so she tried to keep himself closed off in the crevices where she could not reach.

He heard her, sloughing about, searching for him, growling like an angered beast that hungered for their prize. He’d evaded her, and she was pissed, and she began to pry apart her laid in search of the old wizard. So he slunk back, around, into new nooks. This whole operation was moving slowly, but surely, a true cat-and-mouse game as Divankul built up enough power. Divankul could not be sure how long this game lasted, only that he was tired beyond belief, but he’d done it, he’d gathered enough power, bounced it through the cavern, superseded her domain for his own purposes, blinded her sense of smell and deafened her to his movements, he’d avoided her detections, and he finally felt safe enough to step out and destroy her.

“This is where the fight ends, your fucking lecherous eel!” Divankul was just about the pull the trigger on his master plan, she had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from Oblivion. As he spoke the words into creation she moved at him, fast, faster than fast, instantaneous, like a viper primed and coiled to strike. She hadn’t given up on sniffing him out, she’d just been waiting, coiled up, assured he’d do the dumbest of moves and for the last time, open his fucking mouth to declare his attack. The same stupid mistake he’d made against Jason. It was only in this moment that Divankul could finally see what Jason meant when he grated against Divankul’s insistence on declaring his spells.

But then, as time seemed to slow to a crawl, something else entered Divankul’s mind in the instant before he was grabbed. She probably knew the whole time, and was just letitng him have his fun, before robbing him of his moment. It seemed to click that she had simply watched and waited for him throughout the whole experience. So this was what true sadism was, letting someone try and struggle and writhe before you broke them down, just as they thought they had a chance. Then he felt his organs rupture, and his ribcage break, and they were in a spiral back into the crushing depths of the Sorrows. It was all a blur as Divankul felt a feeling he hadn’t had to confront in centuries at least, he couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t act. His magic hadn’t quite returned yet, he wasn’t healing, he was being flung at high speeds through the water, taking on the salty scourge as he lanced upwards and onwards, and felt his body crunch on the sand.

It was in those brief seconds, as his body began to rebuild itself and try to flush out the water that the feeling became ever clearer.

[b]Despair.[/b]

Real, cognizant, true, deep existential dread, the kind of thing only a weak little runt who never amounted to anything would feel. As he splurted blood, bile, bones, and saltwater from his mouth, gasping for any relief, it was growing inside of him, because he could see a great rupturing splash and the landing of an elf far from him on the other side of the shoreline. He groggily tried to make his body move. If he didn’t, then the despair would be well and truly complete, she was charging him, like a distant enemy on the horizon. If he acted fast maybe he could still-

A flash of dim red light, and that was when he felt his body stop regenerating, halfway through reconstructing his organs and setting his broken bones back into place.

[b]Anti-Magic[/b]

No. NO. [b]NO![/b]

NO! Fucking No! This bitch couldn’t be fucking [i]serious![/]

This wasn’t fair at all, no, she could not utilize the powers that [i]he[/i] had, that negated all that Divankul had ever managed to accomplish. That wasn’t fucking [i]right[/i]

He wasn't going to let her get away with this, he wasn't dying here. He’d grown [i]beyond[/i] it all, he wasn't the sickly little Divi, and he wasn’t the shame of his parents and the tolerated baby brother of Volia! He was [i]better[/i] than dying crushed and broken on a beach while a fucked up rape demon tore out his entrails! She was fucking [b]cheating[/b] and she wasn’t going to get away with it!

[Took liberties here, change as needed]

As the Lilin closed ranks, Divankul had some amount of breath left, and it quickened as his body’s natural instincts took over, there was no magic, but he was still a fucking [b]Drow[/b]. As she jumped him he managed to pull out his one weapon left, the dagger he’d used to inflict the mortal wound on Molak and ensnare him before. He managed to get her in her stomach and it made her roll back off him as she spat, cursed, and roiled for a few brief seconds, the powerful artifact burning a wound into her gut. Divankul braced himself in the brief respite he had, made sure to get his fists up, and attempted to make his broken body sit back up, but it was useless, she’d damaged his spine.

The Lilin spat out black blood and bile, hissed as she pulled the searing blade from her own entrails, and locked eyes with the crumpled elf. Then all her pained rage became a gregarious smile and filled with mirth as she lunged at him in a psychotic and animalistic frenzy. She laughed as he grunted, fending off battering blows and smashing hammers. For his part, Divan punched back just as hard, filled with adrenaline, and a rewarding experience for toning his body and taking his enhancers at the crest of the fight. His body even without magic was strong, maybe he could break her off of him even as she continued to rain down attacks.

What the elf was not expecting, was for the psycho to unhinge her jaw, and clamp down around his neck, crushing his windpipe, and sealing his fate at the bitter end. In that moment all the terror and despair flooded back in new and explosive ways, as the crushing reality was finally too big for Divankul’s massive ego to push back against in defiance and denialism. As the two connected on the basest level imaginable, their souls could bear witness to one another. From The Lilin’s point of view, it was a shivered and disheveled old man, curled with fear in a now dark space, shrinking away from her growing maw. Crying, whimpering, and ultimately fully aware that he’d known his end approached long before it came for him, and being terrified of the prospect he thought he’d conquered. What was most detailed and more than likely the most delicious was his eyes, they were the eyes of a child who had never grown up, though his body had. Big, wide, fear-filled red eyes as the monster came out from under the bed…

From Divankul’s perspective, it was an ego death awaiting him, to becoming part of an assimilation of a thousand thousand souls digested by this monstrosity, some by choice and pleasure, others by force and fear. It was worse than he could ever imagine death being like, it was his worst nightmare, to not even be allowed to fizzle away and be made to nothing, but rather to become just another brick in a structure of another. The same fate he’d delivered to countless enemies, he’d have to experience it all! Thought his windpipe was crushed, his body broken, and his mind unraveling. At his deepest depths, his soul let out a blood-curdling scream of pure anguish, terror, and ultimately, regret. As he was dragged screaming to his damnation, wishing for someone, anyone, to save him, wishing to just go back to when Volia was alive and nothing bad could happen to him, wishing that he’d just done the right thing for once, and asked for help.

-————

The *anticipation* was making his old heart skip a beat, he already tasted the magical flow coming through back into the world, it was an electric charge through his skin, something deep in his heart. It was tempting him with bad habits, ones he had managed to forsake through rigid discipline. If he lost himself to the intoxication this time around, he may never come back. He was terrestrial, yes, but the call of the infinite engorgement of the expanse beyond the realms was so damned *tantalizing.*

These thoughts quickly gave way back to reason as his training came back into place. Memories flashed of lessons long since hammered into his very soul, by the people he loved the most. They had been correct, obviously, they always were in matters of wisdom over intellect, his purpose was to protect this world, especially with the death of Talia. The elf had promised the girl he would tend to this garden till he met his end, though he was certain she never believed a word he said, a fair estimate of his trustworthiness.

The vision of his own death flashed through his mind, one he had seen in a dark dream at the dawn of the Monarchy. One day he would face a yawning maw filled with the sharpest of teeth, and it would break him in twain, his strength would leave him for only a singular moment, and it would snap around him in that briefest of weakness. Inevitable that it was, he did not know when only that it would be painful, and the most terrifying thing he’d ever pondered. Despite this, Divankul was unafraid to go into the yawning darkness of the unknown, he was Drow though a Mutt of one, he was one of Aradia’s chosen people, and her first creation in solidarity. He was the servant of humankind, though he had failed against the Red Death, he would not fail here…

He knew not to underestimate whatever had made its way through, not only was this barrier the product of Elmer Twicefreed’s intellect but it had been strengthened by the greatest spellcasters, it was no easy feat to break through.

Whatever awaited him, it was not to be trifled with, and thus he had already begun his plan, he’d split in two, gathering supplies from his workshop and another half sitting in deep mediation on the Wound of the Untamed. He sat cross-legged, performing the same ritual he had for the past seventy years, whenever his stock of strength had run low. Certainly, he had the power to draw from what was currently within Terros, though it proved difficult to reach. As well, Divan had drained the ambient power of reality in the intervening decades. He’d swallowed the great Spreading up for good in his hunger, he’d tasted of the deep fruits of magical artifacts no longer useful to a world marching towards industry, and he’d most certainly grown plants and made the poultices filled with essences to keep his strength up.

It was an echo of a shadow of the true nectar he had once been so carelessly overindulgent in. He was an addict, one who had managed to hold fast for seven decades, keeping aloft on moderation and discipline. He needed to remain focused and alert, and he once more centered himself, took a deep breath, and expelled the mentality of indulgence from his mind. It was a constant battle, he was ever hungry, ever thirsty, ever reaching for another taste.

It was at this point his other half returned with all the items he would need, and he bore down on his supplies. He wasn’t taking any chances, this was the first fight he’d had in ages, he had been practicing, controlling, refining, and dueling to keep himself sharp. He’d been learning new skills, and new ways to go about his work should it ever be of need. The elf had been going above and beyond to not only prepare for a day of this magnitude but also every day keeping his mind off of his endless hunger.

Divankul began to go through the motions, it was now time to enact what needed to be done. He started off by downing several bottles: nerve tonic, smoothers, stimulants, everything he’d devised and tested among his family. He could feel his mind clear fully, his breathing evened out, and his muscles tightened up. He drank as much condensed mana as he had stockpiled, little more than a few puddles compared to the sea his body was capable of retaining. It would be enough.

He began to prepare himself, reciting spells of protection against elements and psychic attacks, hardening his body, increasing his vitality, ensuring his speed, timelocking capabilities, and setting multi-layered countermeasures. Part of himself felt he was overdoing it with his limitations, and the other part said that all this prep work would pan out in the end. He coated himself in magical barriers and then aligned them to his body. He checked his steamer coat, a rough blue fabric in the style of the heavy-duty trenchcoats employed especially by the Clockwork Brotherhood’s investigators. He’d had it weaved with spidersilk and lined with the pelt of the fenrir, underneath was a clean working shirt, suspenders, and trousers of the same cutting-resistant fabric he’d always loved so much from the Kyn he’d befriended a lifetime ago. He grunted, made sure he began to store excess equipment in the jacket pockets, in his trousers, pulled out a pair of welding goggles he’d augmented for his personal use, strapped them up, and sat them on his head.

He sighed, pulled out a golden box that fit within his hand, and flipped a latch to reveal his favored brand of cigarettes, of which he had become enamored with and done away with pipe use in favor of when they had been invented. He took one, touched his finger to the end of it, and drew deep as he ensured the whole thing began to ember and smolder at the touch of his power. He smoked the whole thing within two minutes, taking deep longing breaths and crushed it out before lighting a second one and looking himself over. He’d traded out his more refined dress shoes for a pair of heavy working boots, he looked more a picture of one of those fucking Bluejackets than a mage but that was kind of the point. He’d grown beyond simple magic, he’d had to, he had adapted to the world as it changed, and though he still longed for the days of suckling at the teet of creation, he had to admit the fashion sense of humans had come a long way and he was a fan of their style.

Divankul stretched, flexed, and cracked all sorts of joints before he finally felt secure enough, and the disquieting dread in his stomach had subsided enough for him to begin his flight toward the breach. He’d given the monster ample time to prepare itself, but then, he’d also given himself that same time to prepare in the face of a possible battle. He took care to protect his cigarette’s flame from being blunted out as he flew, manipulating the airflow as he zipped along toward the Rodin Estate.

The Rodin Estate was a grand structure, built of slate and black-fired wood, rising atop the peak of a sloping hill and falling off directly to the south into jagged cliffs. Divankul had been alive back when the structure first fell from decay in the early 1000s, but he had also been alive to see it rebuilt by Carndas Rodin in the 1020s when the man reclaimed his family lands.

The scenery he expected had changed. Even with his darkvision, it felt like the light had been sucked from this place. In the place of light, he felt pure mana - it filled him like narcotics seeking his veins. It was all he could do to not simply bathe in this splendor.

First, he flew over a series of dark farm buildings, across the winding road through the silvery-grey fields of crops. On his approach to the estate, he could already see all the work of a few decades ago had been shattered.

The structure was split in twain, like an explosion had gone off inside. As he neared and his feet met the graveled road, he saw it had been no explosion - a crack in the earth had torn through the place, parting it into two leaning wrecks. It reeked of the Void - but this was not the source.

On the front steps of the estate were a pair of shoes, and a few steps up, a body was sprawled across the stairs.

He had never spoken to the young woman, but he did recognize her as a centerpoint for the recent Umbridge drama. This was Mira Rodin, or rather, it had been. Now it was a corpse with unblinking open eyes. Her black eye paints were dried in tear streaks down her cheeks. Her jaw had been broken and it hung loosely within the flesh of her face.

He felt rather than saw the remnants of the Void on her. Something directly from the depths of hell had touched her - thrown her so violently she never even stood a chance.

He shuddered with pleasure, then repulsion.

The winds whispering through the fields to the east, down to the coast, were what caught his attention. Any further examination of the body would have to wait - his gaze locked on what looked like a black inky column of smoke pouring out from the distant water’s edge. So he moved, quickly through the field like a man to a lost lover. Part of his conscience slowed his steps, a reminder sounding through the fuzz of his desire - it had been decades since he was near this kind of power.

The smoke was not material and his lungs didn’t seize as he stepped into it. Nor did it obscure his vision as he moved from foliage to the rocky shoreline. Standing on a boulder overlooking the ocean, he looked down at what might have once been rockpools - but now, the land was torn asunder.

Like something had climbed through.

Divankul stared into the yawning scene with great hunger, his eyes frantically drinking in the sight of so many leylines of power, all were filling him, he could feel them puncturing his arms and legs, he could feel it stick to his throat, coat his ears, fill his lungs. It was almost as if the greatest high he had ever achieved could only begin to compare to the full-bodied inundation of this river from the deep below. He even forgot what he was supposed to be looking for in the first place. Who cared, he could stay in this unending flow for all eternity…

Then, as if someone were gently taking him by the arm, he snapped back into focus, he could feel the hunger of another. He could sense their gaze, hear their rumbling stomach, and smell their bloodlust from behind him. It was enough to rouse him from the stupor he had been led into, this was the trap, he had set it off, certainly, and now the hunter wanted their prize. “Like a moth to the flame,” came a soft voice behind him.

Divankul snapped around, in an instant, on guard, set for battle, but he hesitated, but for a moment, as he bore the sight of who had come and roused him from the riverbed. He tried to work his jaw, make sounds, but all he could feel was he was still a bit slackened, drooling at the corners of his mouth, still drunken and high from the manifested torrent.

A girl stood at the field’s edge. Her hair and blue smock were drenched, and she looked at him with such an innocent expression. But from her, it suddenly pulsed - pure, unadulterated power. Whatever it was, whatever she was, already she had his entire heart and mind. It was only with a start he realized he was on his knees before her.

His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing, his mouth wouldn’t work, and his mind was firing a mile a minute attempting to free the weakness of his spirit from this obvious delusional state. Even it began to slow to a crawl, every last part of Divankul was becoming more and more fulfilled in the might of the power unleashed. He had been a man dying of thirst, a monster starving and straining for every morsel, now he was drowning he felt almost distended with food now, he was sluggish, slackened, weak, and utterly devoid of authority in the wake of being fed what he had been deprived of for so long. A true addict stuffed headfirst into a full pool of the most delicious drug there could ever be.

Power.

“Oh, it *has* been a while,” said the teenager with a lurid smile that didn’t match her soft features. Her tongue drew salaciously over her teeth, and for a moment she hesitated - like a realization had set in. She rolled her eyes in true dramatic form.

“It seems I’m under-dressed.”

The girl moved strangely then. She shrugged one shoulder, then the other, and it was like she was a garment falling down another woman’s body, head lolling forward as she slid to the ground in a heap.

The woman left standing was tall. Although she was likely Divankul’s height, she felt so much taller in that moment as she was unveiled. Her flesh was black, but sparkled with a million distant suns - yet she added no light. If anything, she exuded darkness. Her hair was long and a similar galaxy-splattered black, moving about her in the coastal breeze.

Her face was not familiar. High cheekbones and slanting eyes complemented long elven ears. Her eyes were a color that had no name - a color that was every shade all at once, but lesser gazes might only call white.

Her lips pulled back from pointed black teeth, like those of a shark lost in the abyss. From those teeth, down her chin, coating her throat, still spilling between her breasts - there was blood. It was almost impossible to see against the void of her skin, but Divankul could still smell it.

And all at once, she wore white skin - sickly white, like that of a Vrow, and the color of her eyes turned closer to magenta, with white pupils. It was not an illusion - he would have seen through it. Her galaxy-black hair seeped to a bright white and her smile was no longer black - it was white, but bloody. Against this white contrast, the red blood was vibrant.

“I had hoped Metheryl would be with you,” she cooed, stepping over the slumped body of the girl.

Ỉ̶̀t̷̬͂ ̶̿̉ẁ̸̅o̴͆͒u̵̕͝l̵̛d ̐̈b̸̈́̅e̸̐̋ ̴̃̇s̷̓o ̱n̴̊͆i̸ce to ca̔t̵ch ̲u̴͒̂p̸̿̈́.̸

*It would be so nice to catch up.*

A̸̱͚̽h̵̺͂̓̓,̵̬̰͋̉͒ͅ ̴̲͈́̿̑f̶̮̼̹͒͂u̶̜̓̏c̴̛̱̾͜k̶̹͋́ ̸̨͌m̴̘̂ḛ̶̓̕ ̷̥̑͐u̸̜̎̾́p̸͎̺͋ͅ ̷̼͑͌t̷̨̹̭̊͠h̶̲́̃̾ễ̸̙̘͝ ̷͔̔͋̎a̸̡̮̪̓͂s̷͙̄ṣ̵͎͑̿͗ ̷̝̼͖̏̑s̵̛̖̻̍͛ḯ̶̞͝͝d̵̹͛̃̓ê̷̬͘w̶̖̝̏̐a̶̳̲͉͌y̵͙͍̲̓s̶̮͌̾̒

*Ah, fuck me up the ass sideways*

Odd, he hadn’t meant to speak in the Black Tongue, then again he hadn’t *meant* to see the specter of the bitch that was supposed to be fucking obliterated either. Something deep in his mind was beginning to surface, but it was too distant to hear clearly at this junction. But his drug-like state looked dumbly upwards regardless.

K̸̛̫̗̔ȑ̷͚̦ã̴͓̌a̵̮̺̋ḯ̴͕̳̀,̶͈͈̂ ̴̺̏̇y̴̼̓̈o̵̪̳͘u̷͙̅'̸̯̃̔r̴͍̿e̴͇͌ ̶̲͝s̸̓͘͜ǘ̶͙͚̕p̶̳̽͛p̸̩̎̽ô̸̗̎s̸͍̆ė̴͍̘d̵̢͝ͅ ̵̼̉͊t̸̲͛̿ỏ̴̧͎ ̸̝̇͘b̷̻̒ê̸̜͇,̴̲̝̑̋ ̴̻̋̉a̵̘̋͝t̶̢̉͌ ̴̦͛b̴̪̍ẹ̵͆ṣ̸͋̄t̸͖̓ͅ,̶͔̝̓̽ ̷̭̅ǎ̵̼̀ ̸̝̀̓p̷̰̮̃ṵ̴͆̾d̸̝̺̃̊d̵̼̙́͠l̸̺̲͘ě̷̗̹ ̵̛̬͘o̸͍̊́f̸̺̆ ̴̨̌̀e̸̫̓ͅs̷̭̣̄s̴͔͐͐e̸͚̍́n̴̺̑c̶̻̊̓e̴̹̜͊,̸͓͗ ̵̗͆̚ͅâ̵̭ń̵̗d̸̢͉̎ ̴͔̓c̶̣̃̈́è̷͍͗ŕ̴̦̎t̸͈̉ǎ̶͎͒í̵͚n̵̜͚̆l̶̘̔͘ỹ̴͇ ̶̜̺̂͘n̸͖͂ọ̷̟̊͂t̸̢̻͊͠ ̴̖̠̀̅ǎ̶̭̀ ̶̫̑t̷͇̳̃͝ẖ̴̘̏r̸̠͊e̸̥̦̿̊á̵̡t̸̮͚͑ ̶̝̎͝ţ̵̘́ó̷̳ ̵͇̋m̴͓͆y̶͉̪̐ ̷͔̇̋ḓ̴̉̌o̴̜̒̕m̶̹̀̔a̵̖̤͠i̶̜̙̓̈́ņ̵̙̇̄

*Kraai, you're supposed to be, at best, a puddle of essence, and certainly not a threat to my domain*

He kept talking in the Black Tongue, but he knew his mouth wasn’t working, the jaw wasn’t moving from its slackened, drooling state. He wasn’t moving his lolling tongue, nor focusing his eyes as if to properly see. It was all coming as though he was gazing upon something from within his body but not truly all here. The voice in his mind was getting louder, reciting something, he could almost hear it now.

*-setting, time- -iggered, counte- -gaged*

Divankul supposed he was speaking through the powers of what he was underneath his skin, much like Kraai and whoever the other one was who came before. Though since they were now out of the skin suit, possibly a young victim of the massacre, they were speaking much clearer than he? He could tell they were different, one reminded him of…himself. That hunger, that *smell,* oh by the shaft of the old ones it was almost as if he was feeling his darkest primordial instincts reverberate through her even though Kraai was the one standing before him.

Ṱ̷͍͆ḩ̴̺̄̚ẻ̴̫͖̾ȑ̸̢̧ẻ̷̳̯ ̴͚͌í̷̼s̸͆͠ͅ ̵͖̱̅̅ŏ̷͔͔͗n̶̦̋l̷̊ͅͅy̴̤̰͝ ̴͎̈́̉m̵̦̏͆y̴̮͖͒̾ş̵̯̀͌e̸͇͌͜l̵̨̅f̸̜̃͌ͅ,̴̼̐̃ ̴̙̉I̷̜̽͗ ̸͇̐d̸̯͍̈́į̷͘͝d̷̗͉̀̉ ̶̛̫͚̂n̸̪̅o̵̯͊͂t̵̬͈̽ ̵͔͝͝w̸̛̳͚͋ḭ̶̛̇s̷͇̲͒̏ḣ̷̨̛̫ ̴̦̹͊̂t̵̺̔ͅo̵̖̟͑ ̴̘͗̌ĕ̷̯̄n̸͙̘̈́d̵͔̰͆å̶̳n̷̗̿̈́g̴̨̈́è̶̲ͅṙ̴̭ ̶̫͒͝ẗ̴͎̌h̴̨̲̀̕o̴̞̙̚s̴̳̍ẽ̶̡͚ ̵̹͛c̷̫͠l̸̰̈͊ͅö̶̟́̐s̸̨̞̿͒ȩ̶̹́ ̶̻͓̌̎t̶̡̤̒o̵̢̧͂ ̸͇̐̈́m̸̊͜e̸̪̤͋,̸̫̞͒̑ ̷̜̩͆ḟ̸͓̔ơ̷̘͙̐r̸͕̫̃̈ ̵̫̍̽m̷̤̱̃͐y̷̛̤̮̌ ̶̪̺̚h̸̺̉̐ū̸̫̻n̸̘̆ĝ̶̖͝e̴̬͑̕r̵͇͋͒ ̶̯̔͜k̵̹̉n̷̼̓͗ó̸͖w̴̞̒ͅs̵̢̫̄̓ ̴̢̿̓n̸͈̮̓ò̸̹̙ ̵̬͇͗̅b̴̼̦̏ȏ̴̙̔ú̶̞͕̌n̶̙̣̓̈́d̶͚͂s̷͖̣͌͋

*There is only myself, I did not wish to endanger those close to me, for my hunger knows no bounds*

The voice was breaking through, as Divankul’s unfocused, rainbow-colored eyes shifted and spiraled with no discernable pupils or iris upon the visage of what stood before him. It was not the dark voice he spoke outwardly, but a dull tone of magic he had engineered for regulating his spells so as not to tax his brain with menial functionality at any given time. Essentially, a mental automaton to handle the drudgery of spellcraft in the back of his sub-conscious.

*Physical Conditions Resetting, Timelock Spell ‘Cleanse’ Triggered, Countermeasure ‘Sobriety’ Engaged*

Ah, good, he could feel his muscles begin to work, a little. His tongue felt firmer in his mouth and he tightened his jaw a bit more. He could feel himself stiffen a bit, and his eyes came sharply into focus, becoming the coloration of deep crimson that burned from behind as he gazed upwards. Though it was limited, he had some bodily control again, and he could feel his body beginning to acclimate, metabolizing the mana and storing it in his deep wells of reserves.

“Who is the other, Kraai?” Divankul finally managed to get his slothful mouth operating, no more astral speech from beyond his skin, it was now his time to make the noise.

The woman switched back to Common, abandoning the fiendish smile that had been plastered over her face the entire time.

"Well, that's the thing," she teased. "I'm the other. Kraai is here, absolutely, as are a few other... friends." She bit the corner of her lip and smirked. "Some more malleable than others. But you for once, seem to be... more or less one person. That's interesting."

Divankul had to blink away the confusion for a solid three seconds before he responded, a bit floored that he couldn’t truly tell Kraai apart from the rest of this monstrous monolith of souls. That *wasn’t* meant to be the case, his vision should have been able to pierce the veil and discern all that she was. But it was the opposite, she saw that he had finally reached a point of singularity, something nobody should have been able to see into…

“Indeed? It would seem I’m not simply talking with the dregs of existence anymore” he could feel his legs beginning to flex and shift in place, tensing and releasing as his motor functions returned to him. “I must be getting sloppy, I cannot see to your core but mine is laid bare…but yes in this time I, hrm, digested the thousand thousand souls and monsters that comprise who I am. Thus there is only Divankul remaining…for the most part.” Divan felt his body begin to acclimate, felt his shoulders rise and fall with a breath, he could twitch his muscles, he was becoming more unlatched by the moments that ticked by.

“You are powerful indeed, I’m still recovering from that dosage” he finally felt enough power to push himself up and onto his feet, cracking his neck one way and another as he raised himself back up to his full height, a bit shaky still. “I’d like to know a name to use as we speak since you certainly are already fully aware of who and what I am, and clearly you wanted to grab my attention with what you’ve done here” there was little point in trying to play coy or wrassle and intimidate, that was for the lessers of the Void and Terros. No no, with those like this one it was best to have a sense of tact, and hope they slipped up.

Her eyes slid up and down him as he stood, absorbing something from him although whatever it was, it wasn't magical - perhaps just sizing him up now that he had found the presence of mind to stand.

"Flattery does not suit you," she said, seemingly ignoring his question of her identity. She began to walk around him, trailing a long-clawed hand across his back as she did, but her nails did not cut. "I wish to present you with options. Allowing you that taste of the Void, perhaps you will choose the more agreeable path."

“Yeah, diplomacy was more Voli’s forte, I was always better as a rapid attack dog” The old man sighed deciding to quit with any attempts at charming, that would not be a solid gameplan as he continued to ingest more magic. He still needed to buy time for his strength to fully return.

She was back before him, just beyond the downed girl. Only now with the drunkeness gone did Divankul realize the girl still breathed.

"They call me the Lilin. I believe my more recent 'escapades' might be known to you, but I must assure you, things are quite different now."

Divan hid the fact he could see this hostage was still living, possibly she had played ’host’ for ‘The Lilin’s’ entrance. It was always easier to possess than to brute force like Verm and Jason did, which complicated things, by quite a bit really. He couldn’t just let the poor little one get caught up in this, and this was precisely why he did not want anyone following him, because it would lead to him having to worry about innocent people.

So he pulled out a cigarette from his little holder, and flipped another to his demented counterpart, whether she decided to take it mattered little to him, he wanted something to smoke. That was kind of the gimmick of his powers on the one hand “Smoke and Mirrors” Xenovia had once described it as he regaled her with old tall tales. He was supposedly the greatest of magicians in that sense, a bit dull for what he was actually capable of crafting, but he let the little girl have her fun.

“They’re a custom blend I order up, humans are fascinating, and they continue to surprise me with the weird ingenuities they come up with” Divan spoke of the tangential subject matter with the death stick locked between his lips, lighting the cancerous accessory and breathing deeply for a second, holding it for a few more that passed, before letting the smoke fall from his mouth and seeming to sink out of sight.

“By the name you gave me I’m going to reckon you’re the ‘fuck demon’ that Jason was screaming at in Elmer’s eyes. Which probably means you’ve been behind some vile shit in the past that I’m supposed to recall around this point, as if we’re in a detective novel and all the pieces are meant to slide into place this very moment.” Divankul expelled more smoke from his lips as he smoked and spoke, all the while flexing his fingers, as if testing his strength and flexibility, shaking off the numbness that had taken hold. “Sorry to say I don’t recall what you were up to, I was probably half mad or high as Obscura, to say the least, anyways, what’s the proposal?”

The Lilin held the cigarette between her fingers like it were a baby carrot about to be eaten, but she watched Divankul and how he treated his before placing it between her lips. A spark lit up in the end and she took a long drag before using the appropriate two fingers to pull it away. Smoke seeped from her nostrils.

"That's quite all right. I was avoiding you back then, when I was almost nothing. The irony... that was when I was a god." She chuckled, taking another hit of tobacco. "A young, foolish god. Can't be much of a deity if you eat all your followers, after all."

She dropped the cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with a press of her foot. "So my offer, Divankul, is for you to become a god. Would that interest you?"

That...was a new one, and also entirely beyond anything he actually wanted, he had once been so damned *close* and he instead gave his son the role because he knew Nielus would be a far better fit. He sighed, smoking the last of his odorous nail, the smoke and the ashes falling to the wayside and drifting off behind the two speaking.

"That would be tempting, if I hadn't already reached the point of divinity and turned my back on it in favor of living among the terrestrials. I rather do enjoy being more a folk hero than a deity, lesse: Aradia got slaughtered, Verm got tossed, Jason went mad, you ate all your subjects, the Empress got her imperial dynasty frozen, shit just does not work out for deities" He had counted on his fingers for some kind of dramatic effect of just how many so called 'gods' had met their end beforehand.

"I'll have to decline, I'm already content with my mortality, I'm aware my death is imminent, though not quite when, I know it's before the end of the century though..." Divankul gave an honestly quite weary smile as he seemed to tangent off, his eyes betraying just how absolutely *exhausted* he was. They faded from the burning red to a glossy yellowish-orange tint of autumnal leaves, before snapping back as he kept up the symbolism of being an unshakable paragon of the people. "I can give you all those tools though, the capability to go beyond simply what the Void can offer, I can give you the secrets of what Aradia could pull off, if you'd be willing to leave Terros alone"

His body was improving, he could feel his strength coming to him faster and faster, re-invigorating his tired soul, he could now feel all the mana he'd infused into the smoke of his cigarette and began to quietly manipulate it to hopeful get under the captive girl's body. If he could managed for just a while longer, he could maybe get her the fuck out of here before shit kicked off, as he was damn certain that his offer was going to be roundly rejected.

This, he supposed it easiest to refer to it as a woman, but this demonic woman was here for something so much sweeter than mere empty divinity. She was his peer, in many regards, he could smell it on her, that hunger far more carnal than his own, but similar nonetheless, she craved for the taste of what she couldn't quite have, much like he did. She wanted something Divankul couldn't offer, and she was willing to strike a deal to get him out of her way so that she could have it with little in her way.

"But then, you were also once a god, so I'm going to suppose that's not what you're after, is it Lilin? You want something deeper, and tastier, you have a hunger much like my own, but yours comes from the flesh, and mine comes from the mind, we are both ravenous to feast on it any chance we get, but also smart enough to think of ways to get what we want" Divankul smirked, almost as if he was looking into a mirror for a moment "I can smell it on your breath, the blood, the desire for prey, smells just like my early days, when I wanted nothing more than to devour anyone who got in my way, though I always felt the soul was sweetest"

The shrug she gave was surprisingly coy, although the rest of her body language projected ease. Her eyes flicked to the girl, a sharp coil of mana brushing over Divankul's own like barely-sheathed talons - she was aware of what he was doing, but she didn't care. She even stepped away from the body: she didn't need a captive, it would seem. An unusual display of... mercy? Or just sheer disinterest in what was all used up?

"There is much of my old form I still feel," she agreed. "But with the additions I've made over the past few decades, this is a different game we play, Divankul. New ideas have formed, sinking through my mind, permeating my desires. Oh, there is lust. Both in the flesh and in the mind now. So many delicious minds..."

She trailed off, dreamily gazing out at the ocean. "One of them is desperately trying to speak to you." That smile again. "I'm almost tempted to let him, but... *fuck*, his intensity is so *good*." Her pink eyes turned on him again. "Do you wish to know what he says?"

Divan stopped in that moment, he didn't need to hide ti, he supposed, he'd relocate the girl when it became needed, but for now all his attention was directed solely into the eyes of his counterpart "I've misjudged you, and I'll have to apologize, I was only seeing you for the surface levels. As well as what I could detect as my strength has come back to me, in greater and great rushes, like the rising tides of an ocean." he gave a soft bow "This is no flattery, but I find you to be *far* more interesting than what I had first pegged you as"

"Please, do allow me to hear the message of your most vocal captive, depending on what it is, we may have finally reached the equilibrium of this encounter" Divankul could feel more power surging up into his veins with every pump of his heart. something was coming, the intensity was growing. Anticipation, reconciliation of the matter that his original view of the situation was far too dim.

The growing rush that he may finally get to have some fun.

The snicker couldn't count as a chuckle. She wet her lips with her tongue, her eyes rolled back into the colorful colorlessness of the Lilin's, and a shudder worked through her - like for a moment, there was something *inside* her. Then her bones cracked. Her form thickened, broadened, into a man. A man in shattered gold-trimmed armor, wearing a ragged green cape. A man with a face torn from combat, a man with long black hair wet with sweat and grime - an elf with golden eyes, that sparked with magic, that stumbled as he came forth in replacement of the Lilin.

*"KILL. ME."*

He threw himself on his knees before Divankul, grabbing the man's hands and setting them about his throat. And in a horrible moment, Elmer looked up into Divankul. "While you can."

All of the rising action, all of that build-up, that thrill of the hunt. Getting to fight it out with the likes of a demon on par with his strength, and finally put to rest the last threat he would probably ever face before his death. It was all deflated as the vision of one of the few people outside of his family he cared for, a battle buddy and one-time friend, appeared. He felt his heart pound in his ears, and fresh in his mind were just the blaring words.

Save him before it’s too late

Divank shook his head, an emphatically answered NO, and he already began to engage some kind of spell, hoping to grab hold of Elmer’s soul, and rip him free of his imprisonment “I protect the innocent, that includes you, I’ll get you free, just give me a se-” The old man’s eyes widened in horror as he realized his mistake.

Divankul's moment of hesitation would be his undoing. For in that flicker of humanity, that questioning, he had spared a second too long. Elmer's eyes were the Lilin's, staring straight into his soul, sensing him as he sensed her return, and knowing this was it - he had lost his chance. She struck, and he went flying out over the rocky coastline.

Alexi could only give Valoria a wry smile as she jabbed her gaudy finger straight toward his face and bellowed out yet another insult to his dear mother. He’d briefly given the delusional figure of thought or just outright giving her a blow to the jaw for her outburst, or firing back his own witted insult. Then, as it tended to do, logic won out on this challenge within his own mind, such problematic expressions would only cause a diplomatic incident, ruin the party, and very well might get him called back home to deal with a verbal walloping from his father on the privileges the young man enjoys as Crown Prince but also the responsibilities laid therein. Dull, repetitive, and overall effective in keeping him out fo trouble if he didn’t have to listen to the King’s same stupid speech for the thousandth time. He never actually changed it, and even Mother would just give a glance and leave the room when he would begin on it, as if to say she could not handle the same droning he was made to sit through each and every time he caused some kind of uproar.

Nail a noble’s college-aged son’s ass till he couldn’t think straight? Lecture. Get caught with a pound of muze on university grounds? Lecture. Sucker punch the fuckwitted head of House Dargas? Lecture. Tell parliament to suck his cock over some stupid proposed sanctions? Lecture. Every single time he ever made any minor missteps or had any fun that wasn’t deemed ’normal’ by these prudish wilted stemstalkers, it was time to get recalled home to sit and endure a three-hour talk from a man he’d rather just get a few good punches from and then sent back on his way. Ah, but in all this thinking the loud mouther trumpet of what remained of the bloated carcass of the once noble Blackthornes had finally departed. She’d also absolutely [i]ruined[/i] Armand’s atmosphere he had done so much work to perfect and set up for tonight. [i]that[/i] would just now do at all, so he pushed out and into the midst of the still shocked and nervous party-goers and clapped his hands rather loudly to gain as much attention as possible.

“Alright, alright my delicious party favors and succulent feasters” he had a commanding voice, light, but firm, the kind of voice of a future king talking to subjects awaiting a rousing call to arms. It was part of his practice as a noble to know how to speak and what to say to get people excited for just about anything. This beautiful metallic incubus was about to get everything running right back on track. His plated nails clacked together as he tinked as a flute of sparkling bubbly, downed it, and threw it back over his shoulder where a servant dove and grabbed the item before it could shatter. “Now that the ‘Right Honorable Baron Buzzkill’ has left the building” He shook his head and rolled his eyes in dramatic fashion as he made mockery of the fearsome Valoria Blackthorne to the once stunned audience, and he managed to get a few giggles and murmurs. “We can truly get this party going the way that it was meant to, though we’ve all been having fun this has not been a staple of the good Lord Piers’ standing as the most eccentric noble in Bastion!” A few more murmurs and a bit more charge to the air as Alexis struck a pose, spacing his legs apart and shooting his clawed hand into the air, with one finger pointed upwards.

“Mmph did I fall asleep and wake up to a bunch of browbeaten bitches or what, ugh” he scoffed as if to taunt his now raptured audience, using an almost effeminate tone in his voice as if to rile them up that this-this [b]metallic temptor[/b] was trying to egg them on. It was working and people were getting more charged as the seconds ticked by. “I mean, I get that Vidictive Val is a downer, but you act like she can just suck all the fun out of wherever she goes! Well, I’m going to say, that’s not how it works in the manor of Lord Piers! Armand, my most beautiful friend! Where the fuck did your fine ass go!? [b]The People[/b] need you to spice back up this delicious party and get it rocking back into style till the morning sun!” Alexis moved back and forth as if pleading to the audience to hear him out as he insulted Valoria once more, people getting more at ease because if a sovereign was throwing jabs at Valoria, it took the sting out of her threat.

Alexis moved his head up, craning as if to see his beloved cousin somewhere up above him along the banisters of the second story “Come on down dear boy! We’ve got guests, stop getting your dick wet and start getting your head pounded, you think he’d get enough normally…” another exaggerated roll of the eyes and shuffling of the body as if exhausted from the notorious playboy’s antics, the roasting of their host started to get more laughs as Alexi spared nobody from his vibing and jiving. “Oh, and if you’re waiting for the good [i]candy[/i] never fear! Avernius!” he clapped once more and from a side door leading into a hallway for servants to and from somewhere in the manor, out popped a figure dressed in dark and tattered robes, with a singular light illuminating a face beneath a hood form a cigarette, as the robes shuffled you could see tattoos dotting his hands and neck, and finally the hood came down to a man whose makeup had given him startlingly gaunt features and soulless eyes of a bleak coloration.

Some were spooked, was this another party guest, a servant, or had Alexi really summoned a demon from the void? “We’ve got muze, dreamwalk, orcfist, redfist-the good shit too, managed to convince that old stingy fuck Divan to sell me some of his best crops” The voice was low, even, and professional as he smiled around his lit tobacco “We’ve got some weird stuff too I’ve never even tried before, every type of ‘candy’ you could want I’ve got a bandy of servants lined up to get this party riled” Alexis smirked, he could always trust his dealer to come through, well except when Illiad was in town, but then he’d told Armand and Alexi he wasn’t coming so no harm, no foul here. “Ya hear that? I made sure to fully stock for tonight! What am I gonna do if all you pussies back out?! Do them all myself? I will if I [b]have[/b] to” he made a big show of pouting and looking indignant that people were looking the gift horse of the best fucking highs in the mouth. Now people were starting to get more pumped, making noise, cheering on the party.

“Armand! Last chance, jump on down dear boy, the people want their heroic playboy to herald in the true party experience!” Alexi had to cup his hands over his mouth for this one, as he had now gotten everyone pretty damned rowdy, the next bard set was beginning to string up and set themselves to task for the night to continue, and servants were bustling now to get restocked as Alexis had breathed a renewed vigor among the young aristocrats in attendance after Valoria had managed to kill the entire party atmosphere.

Natalie - Natakate/Kotorchix — Today at 6:45 PM

"My dear lord, stop getting your knickers in a twist," came Armand's voice from the crowd almost directly in front of him.

Armand stepped up and slung an arm across Alexi's shoulders, his other holding a whole fucking carafe of wine aloft. "Listen to the prince, folks. Though I recommend going easy on the redfist - I know we're all adults here, but some of us certainly won't be after taking a hit of that." He gave Alexi an affectionate clap on the shoulder, like it was Alexi who was going to be the bumbling toddler that shit could turn you into.

"Drink, eat, [i]consume[/i] - there are plenty more shows to see about the estate, please - enjoy."

Armand kept it simple. He'd never been one for long speeches, yet somehow that was how he rolled best. Short, simple, and leaving the showiness to the parties he hosted and the friends he loved.

Skummy — Today at 7:00 PM

"Well I'm just such a gobshite to not have seen ye there!" with a dramatic facepalm Alexi seemed to roll right into the exchange as if he was merely breathing the word out "But his words do hold, redfist is for elves, so any pansies may wanna steer clear, but if you'd like to know someone who can show you to do it right..." Alexi's hand maneuvered and he pulled in a startled but giggling Ornia Dul-Sansiska "The good Lord Divan's wife would be more than happy to let you know she gets stoned out of her head on the daily on it and can help keep you from becoming a drooling simpleton!" with that Alexis gave the startled lovely woman a peck to the cheek in greetings, having not managed to get to Lord Divan before he had up and vanished. With that the part remanifested and the audacious prince  relaxed and squeezed Armand's shoulder.

"Mmmmmm tonight will be a wonderful night I can feel it, I do so hope your husband had fun while he was here my Lady, such a shame he could not stay longer, I know Armand here loves to hear the old man's stories and watch his magic tricks"

"Oh, well you know my beloved, he's always on alert for keeping us all safe, I mean what good is it to have a party if there isn't the watchman at the door?" She gave a quieter smile, seemingly at the thought of her husband having to do something very important at this very moment, Alexis read betwene the lines that this was bothering her and that ti was something that was much bigger than some young punks having a ball, and he patted Ornia's head despite her being much his senior. "I'm sure the man is doing just fine, he's Divankul Dul-Sansiska for fucksake. What could even pose a danger to that man?"

Skummy — Today at 8:18 PM

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https://youtu.be/-mCJnf5hGs4?list=RDQMHDlEBk8eOos

Divankul couldn’t actually breathe, all his multi-layer barriers had done for him is ensure that the bitch’s fist hadn’t gone straight through his chest, instead merely breaking...fuck, probably everything? He was suspiciously calm, but then he remembered he was so doped up on every single drug he’d ever developed and under the effect of multiple spells that wouldn’t let his body properly panic and struggle. It also seemed to be dulling his pain receptors, which was good because he was not ready to be able to feel pain like he had back in the day. Still could feel Jason’s electric tendrils digging around his brain space sometimes. He was flying pretty far for how much he could th-

That was when he felt his back hit a rock, pulverized it and he flipped, smashed into more rocks along his right side, flipped and landed on his feet for about a third of a second, and plummeted face-first into the frothing shoreline. He could already tell he had lacerations, a shattered chest, a broken back, and now he was wheezing in water from what little air his body could try to suck in. Plus, all this adrenaline was starting to affect his medicating and his spells were beginning to fail as his body began to light up the pain receptors like it was the Everglow Festiva. What started out as blinding agony quickly succumbed to total darkness.

That was until he could hear footsteps on the shoreline, and realized she’d walked after him, eager to see her work first hand. Divankul could feel his body beginning to mend itself already, his powers were returning to him, albeit slowly, but they were picking up the pace. He would just push himself up and try to maneuver things into place, but something about how he’d hit the rocks had made him incapable of moving his arms or legs. So he simply lay there, letting more water lap at his lips, slowly drowning him wave after wave