Prince of Debauchery

    🌹  The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim RP Blog

    🌹   Independent

    🌹  15+ Years RP Experience, 5+ Years on Tumblr

    🌹  Will contain adult themes and triggering content.  (Photos will be tagged, text will be beneath read mores) View at own risk.

    🌹  Mun is 25+ Years Old

   🌹  Crossover/OCs welcome

  🌹  Yaoi/Slash Multiship (Not Primary Focus)

  🌹 Multiverse/AU (Medieval Only) Friendly

    🌹  The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim RP Blog

    🌹   Independent

    🌹  15+ Years RP Experience, 5+ Years on Tumblr

    🌹  Will contain adult themes and triggering content.  (Photos will be tagged, text will be beneath read mores) View at own risk.

    🌹  Mun is 25+ Years Old

   🌹  Crossover/OCs welcome

  🌹  Yaoi/Slash Multiship (Not Primary Focus)

  🌹 Multiverse/AU (Medieval Only) Friendly

There was something in hearing Sanguine’s voice taunt him like this. That exacerbated Mehrunes’ anger more than the statements themselves did. He could have been amused at what Sanguine was saying, but right now he was just dizzy and feeling pathetic and slightly conflicted.

His agitation was getting to a point where the glow in his mouth was as the sun itself and flames clung to his lips. An attempt was made to stand, but he rocked dangerously from side to side, even before he got to his feet. Once he did, his rather large proportions proved difficult to carry without risk of destroying more than he could afford to. Once again, he collapsed to his knees, but this time, his skin cooled, going completely black and solid, after which large parts of it broke away, crashing onto the ground, revealing a significantly smaller and quite brightly glowing version of Mehrunes Dagon’s form. Though, it was still far larger than even most Xivilai.

The weapon he had once been holding now towered over him, resting in the ground, leaving Mehrunes completely on hand and knee while he issued a long sigh with his eyes pressed shut. His head still spun, no matter what size he was. No doubt this change served no purpose other than damage control, because he was still not going to be able to walk more than two paces without falling.

“I hate you… so much…” he croaked as he tried to prepare himself for another attempt at standing up.

“Oh you don’t mean that,” Sam replied, huffing lightly.  He knew the other prince meant it.  He didn’t care.  This entire situation was beyond fascinating.  Who knew his brother was so much of a light-weight that just a little daedric blood ale would cause him to get this drunk? He was certain even little ol’ Clav could hold his alcohol better.  

Sanguine was right to step away. This time, Mehrunes wasn’t about to halt his attack. His strength and motor skills were indeed not diminished enough to not do a number on whatever he hit. The ground shook, rocks and dust flew into the air, and the earth split well into the distance. It wasn’t just his weapon that caused the destruction. Being as out of it as he was, the weight of his axe along with the weight of his own body sent him forward farther than he could balance, and he found himself collapsed on hand and knee with his hair draped down past his face. His hands firmly held onto his axe for support, and he was breathing in sand and dust as he panted. He breathed out harshly through his nose, clearing the ground beneath his face of fine debris.

After Sanguine said what he had to say, Mehrunes cast eyes bright like embers and pupils dilated as those of a feline ready for the hunt towards the other Prince. There was the glint of pure rage within them, but he didn’t attack. Instead he just pounded a fist onto the ground and emitted a short roar.

“Blood? Why feed me your blood!?”

Though, he honestly knew he only had himself to blame. He should have known better than to just consume something he didn’t know to prove some sort of point. Or did he mean he could handle stronger substances because of his blood? Fuck. Mehrunes had no fucking idea, but he was hating everything about this. What sort of king got so wasted he couldn’t even stand?

The darker prince squatted down, meeting his brother on the ground, an overly amused smirk still painted on his lips.  “It’s called a treat, baby.  You wouldn’t have been satisfied with just some mortal drink, we both know that, and even the hops from my realm wouldn’t have cut it.  I serve nothing but the best for everyone.”  

‘My mind is a maze going a million places at a once, so better fucking stop talking.’ At least, that’s what he’d wanted to say, but all that came out was the only slightly less eloquent, “Mind’s broke. Shut… Shut the fuck up.”

Really, it was like a haze in his head. Even as Daedric Prince, there was only so much he could fully process at a time, and this drink had caused him to exceed that limit. Things that made no sense and would usually be put to rest in an instant played along like they had no breaks. Imagining scenarios, thinking of words, various plans of action. Violence, anger, quips, sex. And none of them were clear or completely coherent either. Well, save for wanting to crush Sanguine over something. Preferably something hard and thick. Maybe seeing double wasn’t so bad, if it meant he could see him be squashed twice.

For now, though, he didn’t have the capacity to grab a huge chunk of rock without probably falling over and making a fool of himself, so he stuck to what he knew. That was swinging whatever weapon he had direct access to.

The arm he held his weapon slowly rose up while a deep growl grew from Mehrunes. Once he felt it was sufficiently high –which, considering his current state, was only as high as he could manage to get it. Not very high, at all– he threw all his weight into swinging it down at Sanguine while shouting, “What did you do!?”

Oh yeah...the master of destruction was completely wasted and now that the drunkard prince thought about it, this might be the first time he’s ever seen him like this.  How...nice...  He pretended to give the slightest of care to his brother’s plight by pouting but it only lasted for a split second.

If Sam knew what his brother thought was in his brew, he’d probably be insulted.  Not that he wouldn’t blame the other Prince for assuming that but still, what a rude thing to think.  Either way, he knew for a fact Dagon was dru~unk, it was kind of his thing. And this fact amused him so much he was actually giddy.  Even getting slapped in the teeth with whatever weapon his sibling could bring himself to swing couldn’t wipe the grin off his dark little lips.  

But then Mehrunes always had better things to do. Sometimes, they involved killing something. Actually, most times, in some way. Sanguine’s little attempt at convincing him to partake in his shenanigans wasn’t about to work.

For a moment, Mehrunes pressed his lips together in actual honest to god consideration of these suggestions. Not the vodka, but the other two. Not that he was about to advertise his tastes to this being. At the mention of Sanguine getting some sort of amusement from him being inebriated, he folded two of his arms over his chest, the fists of the other planting firmly into his sides, and stated, in low and rough tone, “I do not exist to amuse you, pest.”

Besides, if he allowed himself to be drunk, more likely it would end in whatever host realm he was in being demolished or with its mountains split in two. Sort of like Lyg, only he wasn’t drunk then…