lysistratum imperium

Banshee, aka the topic of @togekiss-king‘s disapproval. :3

Nights of Dread: Moon Fall

NoD, NoD: Moon Glow

Warnings: none

She’d grown so much, so fast.

Rajni paused upon the threshold of the child’s playing grounds, watching as the little Imperial raced back and forth under the trees. She was chasing a firefly; it kept darting out from her reach every time she snatched at it. She very nearly fell into the creek so intense was her focus, only stumbling into a halt at Nuru’s warning call. He called her again, opening his arms to her, and she spun with a grin, barreling toward his place just up the hill.

Nuru beamed as he caught her, bringing her close so that their foreheads touched, and their laughter bounced together through the otherwise silent trees.

It was a world shattering sound, and yet it seemed like it belonged.

“Rajni…”

She opened her eyes. Blinked. Shut them tiredly before shaking herself to alertness.

“Rajni!”

Nuru sounded panicked. Rajni hefted herself to her feet, shaking herself again. She felt… oddly exhausted. But when was the last time she’d slept? Decades ago? Centuries? She didn’t need it. Hadn’t since…

“RAJNI!”

But that wasn’t important right now. “I’m here, Nuru,” she called back, moving out from the shelter of the willow and down the small slope.

She scowled when she caught him fiddling with the amulet. 

“Do you even remember him?” she sneered. “Do you actually think he’s coming back?” 

Nuru clutched at the offending jewelry. “Of course he is!” he responded, high-pitched and alarmed at being caught. But he didn’t answer the first question. He never did these days.

“And?”

His response was a petulant mutter. “And what?” 

“Do you remember him?”

“I… I’m sure he’s coming back! He promised, didn’t he?”

Rajni sighed. What anger she felt was already gone, replaced by exhaustion. “Kid,” she said, voice softening despite herself. “It’s been a long time. He’s gone. Goner than you are. He’s not coming back. You can’t even remember him. It’s time to let him go.”

Hunched and scowling like a child, Nuru didn’t respond for several minutes, fingers still fiddling with and sliding the amulet back and forth on its chain. Then he stilled, shoulders falling in defeat. When he looked at her his eyes were dull inside their sockets, their usual glow dimmed by his anxiety. 

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

She sighed- again- and wondered which answer was crueler at this point. She tipped her head back to look at the full moon above, hoping to draw strength from its presence. It helped, but not enough. “Sure, kid,” she murmured. “I’m sure he will.” 

She didn’t have to see him to know how greatly he perked up, or how he smiled as he palmed the necklace lovingly in one hand before slipping it into the folds of his rags. 

It was all cruelty these days. 

Using Inkarnate to make some maps for the Nights of Dread crowd. 83

Their lore just expanded on me. 

Curses and Early Epitaphs Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: Chronic illness, near death, major injury, physical abuse. 

Osirian belongs to @fr-owlistuff.

He came to her in the night, the steel of his bones hidden once again with finery and unassuming grace. For the first time in his life, however, something else was concealed beneath the layers; the guilt clung to him, weighing them down, yet he could not risk showing the strain.

He’d done as he’d been ordered, and for the first time in years he wondered if he should have run instead.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted, bowing to the woman leaning proudly over her work. “It has been done.”

He said the words quietly. They were alone, but one never knew who might be listening.

She hardly seemed concerned, however. She barely lowered her voice when she responded, asking, “The weapon was left as I instructed?”

He wondered where her confidence came from: ignorance, or the knowledge that she could not be touched.

“Yes, my queen.”

You see an amazing accent in the AH. It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s a one-off. It’s 5000 gems. You check your vault to see if you can afford it. It’s 10,000 gems. You look away for a moment. Now it’s 20,000 gems. Now it’s gone. Did someone buy it, or did it ascend into the ether, a higher being? You will never see that accent again and the creator is inactive. 

Someone posts an excited scry of their dragon as an imperial, talking about how they can’t wait to scroll them into this. There’s been no whisper of imperial scrolls for years. Do you tell them? Do they know? They seem so certain. You wonder what they know that you don’t. 

There’s yet another phoatlshop thread in the forums. The title is a pun that you forget immediately after reading. It’s all just unaltered pictures of dragons, posted one after another.

“Don’t exalt my dragon!” a user shrieks frantically at you, as you move to click the button. “Just give it a good home!” They stand outside your lair, screaming. “I hate it when people buy my dragon just to exalt them!” You have owned this dragon for a year. 

The site shuts down every night at midnight. “It’s to keep them out.” Undel whispers, eyes darting frantically. “It’s to keep us safe.” Safe from what, you wonder. You wait patiently for the site to open up, to let you back in again.