#abyssembraced

☾ ⋆⁺ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: send me a ✏️ and my muse will draw a picture of your muse

@abyssembraced

Aversa had done plenty of travelling since Grima's defeat. She'd tried to live in her childhood home, but the ghost town wasn't home anymore... But, the plegian found herself touching base with the ruined haunts of her youth between exploring other outrealms. She'd found by now a few other realms had undead summons, and a few were even with a bit of wit. There was no one here but her and Raven, and Aversa was confident anything she conjured could easily be taken down.

So here she was, dabbling with experimental dark arts once more. Oh, what would the exaltling and his crew think of this? A light amused smile crossed her face as she etched into the dirt, and then with just the compilation of the right elements...

Now or never. The worst that could happen is she makes another Risen to strike down, or if she really lucked out one of those no-faces from that Nohr place.

she mutters with her tome in front, and she felt the energy surge. whether it was something new, something living, or something familiar, Aversa knew she was making something.

"Oh, of course I do, Vee! You know the importance of looking your best at all times."

A tiny mirror appears over his hand, spinning and glittering for one dazzling moment before leaving behind a cleaning cloth Glisten offers to Vee.

"You can keep it, by the way; I have plenty more where that came from. It always pays to look perfect, after all~"

But for all his pomp, the mirror's smirk is a little subdued, his brow a little more furrowed than usual as he eyes the smudge. He knows all sorts of smudges well: oil, water, dust, makeup... the usual. He knows the worst one, too, though—the inky dark that stubbornly sticks to his glass in faint handprints, just long enough for the worry it wouldn't come off to set in.

It never did, of course. But the fear always comes.

She doesn't seem any worse for wear, at least. The twisted version of Gigi must have only stolen something from her. Still, after a bit of silence, he glances over to the rest of the group (preoccupied among themselves; for once, he's glad there's no eyes on him) before sidling a little closer to her, voice lowered to a hush.

"Divo no-" It's the only words she manages before she's pulling the younger voidling close with her tail. Naturally the whelp complains, chittering something at his sister as she scoops him up and places him on her shoulders. "I know, I know, just- Just gimme a sec."

She'd felt the call and clearly he had too. An intense ripple though a universal void that leaked into the multiversal one.

A call for for justice. A call for union. A call for ascension.

A call so full it could only belong to a god.

The elder voidling frowns at the shadows, giving her head a little shake as Divodas crawls into her mane space. That wasn't a call that could be ignored, like all the others of it's calibre. No... no something was off about this one; not unlike a cluster of scared whelps. Maybe that's what prompted the swift action of diving into the shadows and emerging in the shadowy tunnels of an underground kingdom.

She knew the story of worlds like this well; all following the similar lines of a jealous goddess of light, desperate to be remembered. A spread of an infection that brought a bug down to it's base instincts of walk and attack. A prideful king abusing the powers of creation, void and even time itself to combat her infection in a vain attempt to keep his kingdom immortal.

Each world tainted by a sickly, glowing orange.

But this...? What should be aglow was black as pitch. Further down reeked of two different kinds of void; one of null and one of regret and depression.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Even Divodas- who made his way out once he too sensed the sheer emotion seeping from below- seemed a little worried. Though it was also him to be the first to take off through the nearly-empty kingdom; prompting Noir to call and soon chase after him.

Eventually, she catches up, having gone through tunnels, streets and pipes alike to do so. Only to be met with her little brother staring as a huge room fulled with junk and trash-

And a fledgling God of the Void. United and given shaky Focus.

That's why things felt so familiar. It felt like her own ascensions when she became more than just a queen breed, at the hands of two very influential entities.

There's a chitter at Divodas to stay here, before the older being drops down, treading shadow like it was solid ground.

Come sunrise, he saw it alright. Unfortunately for him, it'd be one of the first things he'd have the displeasure of laying his eyes upon today.

. . . To say he was displeased would be false advertising.

This won't do. It must be fixed, NOW. While nobody is watching, before the curtains open for the day!

&& fix it he would, Dandy was quick to get to work, with labored breaths he begun to pull over one of the nearby crates so he may be granted the height boost he (desperately) needed.

A tug,

Oh, Vee. He thought, must you always be set on being such a thorn in the side?

Another tug,

His teeth clenched in a scowl as his thoughts trickled, fingertips gripped so tightly into the wood they splintered it slightly. He didn't even notice.

He just DOESN'T GET IT! You, YOU IT'S ALWAYS YOU. Not Shelly, nor Astro, or Sprout. WHY? He can't even SLEEP soundly anymore these days because of HER AND HER STUPID-

He huffs, an attempt at recollection.

Calm down.

Can't she just . . . know her place?

A final tug,

Climbing atop he was now face to face with that ... ugh. For a prolonged moment he stared into it's printed eyes with a gaze soured with HATRED ... maybe that wasn't quite the right word for it.

Disgust? Offense, contempt. Perhaps.

He supposes the technicalities didn't matter all that much. Not while he's busy!

Rough hands curl around the edges of the sticker, dissatisfied.

Oh well, if you want something done RIGHT you just have to do it yourself!

. . .

❝ Ooh, Ms. Keen I'm tellin' you it's- it was AWFUL! ❞ just a HORRID sight to wake up to! && of course the very first thing Delilah would be hearing about this morning when she arrived. It's important okay? More important than her coffee!

This was about BUSINESS!

❝ It's okay though! I fixed it for us! ❞

Like a proud cat holding up its catch, the Vee sticker was ripped in half, its parts lazily segmented over one another in a half-hearted attempt to make it resemble the original visage.

Dandy smiled wide,

❝ —So our wonderful guests don't go 'round getting the wrong idea! ❞

Only for said smile to droop ever so slightly, hands lowering.

❝ But ... You're not gonna let her get away with THIS, are you? ❞ his sopping words are punctuated with the batting of his large eyes up at the founder, rocking back && forth on his heels.

"I HATE YOUR EXPLODING TRICKS!! NEXT TIME YOU SHOULD STAY EXPLODED!!!"

~ For Arti

The large red slugcat's ear twitches. A few sparks jump off her fur.

That's about all the warning he gets before she arches her back and the air cracks. The resulting concussive blast sends the shrimp off the nearest ledge and down into the gaping maw of a death pit.

"I HATE YOUR CAT!! I HATE ALL CATS!! STOP HAVING ONE!!!!"

~ For Mirage lmao

Should she be more concerned or amused by the fact that what resembles a puppet with a boiled shrimp for a head has the gall to tell her to stop having a cat?

...yeah, no, that's a stupid question. This shrimp's a dumb motherfucker. A comical excuse for a bully. A joke. Whatever. She could probably even punt him.

Amused might still not be the right word, though. Mirage crosses her arms.

"Yeah? That's some really bold words for a shrimp."

...oh. And she has a thought as to what to say to him.

Yet, amidst the silent ambience of the floor, an odd... Buzzing? sound started up without warning, coming from Vee's direction. A crackling, somewhat static-y noise; something glitchy, perhaps, and certainly mechanical in nature. Though it... Didn't quite sound like one of the typical noises an ichor extraction machine would make.

Then, a far more familiar buzzer rang out—that of a failed extraction attempt, followed by a faint, but still audible "Shit" muttered from under the television Toon's breath.

Not long after came the distinctive green highlights of a Mic Check's vision enhancers, revealing that there were, indeed, two Twisteds rushing toward the source of the alarm.

"We should probably hide before they get here." Vee strode up behind Glisten, tapping him on the shoulder with her microphone to get his attention. If he turned to face her, though, she would glance to the side and avoid his gaze, expression largely serious, yet with hints, it seemed, of frustration and... worry? embedded within. "...Sorry."

He could have mistaken it.

It wasn't the same noise, he realizes now. But he could have—and he did; Glisten was so ready quip at her for the slip-up. Then she'd scoff, he'll laugh, and they'd rush over to hide behind some boxes. The Twisteds would investigate the machine before leaving, then they'd finish up like nothing happened. Simple enough.

But before he could even shoot her a teasing grin, he hears it: the buzz of an actual failed attempt swiftly followed by an ever-so-softly muttered curse.

The words die on his tongue. With the two mechanic noises sounded so close to each other, the difference was immediately highlighted—but if not the machine, then what else? There's nothing particularly unusual this floor, which would just leave him, the machine he soundly hadn't failed, and…

And…

His thoughts freeze in place.

He couldn't have been left to stall for long, though; the touch of the microphone jolts him back to attention. How lucky that the machine in front of him hasn't also buzzed and spluttered before he lets go of the valve—but that's so far from his mind when he sees that Vee doesn't meet his gaze.

His eyes dart over her, searching for anything that might tell him what's happening, but nothing really sticks out. Yet clearly something is wrong; it's not really like her to do this. Not like that.

And he wants to say something. He wants to ask. But with the rapidly fading outlines of the Twisteds rushing their direction indicating their lack of time, that's hardly the first order of business. With a sharp little breath, Glisten offers a nod of agreement before nudging her to the boxes.

Once the both of them are safely tucked out of sight, though, the worry Vee might've shown is reflected in his expression tenfold. Glisten peeks over to check on the Twisteds' positions before leaning toward Vee.