The Hexatheon

Bahamut had been anointed a living god since he was a small boy, blessed for war and the defacto leader of the Church of War. Each of the six churches was a small nation to itself.

And it was a rather tactical move, arranging for the young warrior-priest-prince to marry the only male heir of the famed smithing line. An overture to the people of Cavaugh.

Bahamut needed no heir. The next Bahamut would be found amongst the orphans the temple took in, after he had passed. He needed only a spouse to bind the pair of them together.

He smiled at the younger man, tracing a hand along the redhead’s jaw. “I can be gentle, you know. You needn’t be so worried,” he murmured, a little tipsy from their wedding feast, now alone in his bedroom. Their bedroom.

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.

Name: Altia Incendium

Gender: Female

General Appearance: Brown skin, brown wavy hair

Personality: She’s a person of extremes, and she is extremely possessive. Most of her choices are made primarily emotionally and she gets very protective. She also has zero patience and a very short attention span.

Special Talents: She can travel between flames, entering one and exiting another. And is immune to heat or fire. She can also start fire, and set things a blaze. But can’t control it. She’s a gifted sketch artist, and has a talent for smithing with finer metals and doing some engraving  work - when she can  muster the focus.

Who they like better: Tredd Furia @gingersmiith

Who they take after more: Both of her parents really

Personal Head canon: She has the bad habit of lighting people who are awful to her mom’s close friends on fire.

Face Claim:

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.

Name: Lotan (He goes by Bellum and Tidechilde equally. And often doesn’t go by a surname at all.)

Gender: Male

General Appearance: Brown skin, unruly black hair, piercing and slightly unsettling eyes, full lips.

Personality: Quiet, he watches a lot and speaks very rarely. When he does his voice isn’t quite human, it resonates. He’s very gentle most of the time, but can be violent. Not quite out of temper, but he sees violence as a very viable solution to many problems. He’s the murder friend he just does it all very smoothly. He feels things and sees things from a half god’s perspective, it’s hard to relate to most people so he tends to come off as a bit alien.

Special Talents: Doesn’t need to breathe under water, or much at all. Stronger than most humans and faster. His gaze and words are somewhat hypnotic, and he can do some magic through song similar to his father.

Who they like better: Sonitus. He’s loyal to his mother but they need quite a bit of space.

Who they take after more: His mother. But more human. Not quite as likely to go on large rampages. And he’s very rarely actually angry.

Personal Head canon: He nearly killed a man at age six when they insulted Axis Arra in front of him and his father.

Face Claim: 

<It’s not too much?> Carbuncle had been a little worried that combining so many elements of dreams into one form would be offputting to many people.

Carbuncle nodded very seriously. After all, this was a very serious topic. <Most ducks are good ducks, but the ducks Tredd throws at me make this awful honking noise. It’s like they’re screaming! They’re the worst ducks ever.>

<Don’t worry, little Carbuncle. I have you.> Ifrit growled out low and thick, his mental voice reverberating with arousal and need as he fucked the younger astral through his orgasm, barely even pausing.

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Carbuncle’s tail flopped back and forth in annoyance. He just needed time and peace to let himself heal. Even if it wasn’t fatal, he could still be a bit of a baby about it; he wan entitled to that much.

<I don’t have fingers right now,> he mumbled as way of a response. He was just going to wait for the bullet to push itself out as his body healed. That was the more painful way of going about it, but Carbuncle wasn’t going to shift while injured.

The wolf sighed through his nose, one ear perking up. <They don’t like being called my children, you know. A lot of them don’t like me. They think being a wolf if a curse.>

Ifrit nodded, before carefully sinking onto his knees, and rolling his sleeves up. “That might matter if I cared much about what they thought. They’re as foolish as my idiot children that take vampirism as only a curse,” he said, gently placing one hand on the wolf’s side.

That was some greeting. Most days, Carbuncle didn’t mind rolling over or turning human for Ifrit. But today was a little different. He’d gotten between one of his wolves and a hunter. Of course, Carbuncle didn’t know who the werewolf was but he considered them all his and that meant he protected them all fiercely. Sometimes that included taking a bullet for them.

    <You’ll have to find someone else to bite. There’s silver in my bloodstream.> He huffed through his nose as he limped over to flop down beside Ifrit. His fur was matted along his side with his own silvery-white ichor, and around his muzzle with the red blood of a human hunter. He would be fine; it would take a lot more than one silver bullet to put him down.

   <Go bother the humans in town. The hunters could use a good scare to put them back in their place. They’ve grown too bold.>

Ifrit’s nostrils flared as he looked down, frowning as he moved over, a blur of speed and then inhuman stillness. “Did you get the bullet out, or do you require assistance?” he asked, mildly.

“And don’t worry, the hunters will be dealt with. I’ll make sure they know it’s one of mine, too, so your children don’t suffer for it,” the ancient vampire said, his voice soft, anger smoldering in his eyes.

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This is good to know. Carbuncle will let Titan hold the duck. This is one of the good ducks. Not the evil ducks that Tredd hides.

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