#amplectormors

"No, but I’m still allowed to say my opinion if I want to and there’s nothing you can do about that.” 

“Wow! A whole bottle! Cool!” Novus couldn’t help but grin at the chocolate liquor bottle though something else caught his attention. “Wait, a masquerade? What’s that? Does this mean that I can’t go trick-or-treating cause of whatever that is?” His parents wouldn’t really let him miss out on that would they?

@amplectormors: From Here

He sits upon the empty plane, looking down upon the myriad of distorted people and creatures abandon by Bahamut, knowing full well that they would now be among them, that they would soon become as distorted as the rest of them. His punishment for failure... yet he deeply wished for Iedolas not to be there with him.

"I will suffer this." He whispered, still having far too much hope, still believing that he will find a way out of this. "Bahamut will not reign over us. Not here. Not anywhere."

He just had to find a way out...

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Iedolas watches Mors as he was deep in mind. He didn’t need to look out to know what was before him, he already done that so many times before, questioning what he and his people did to deserve this, to deserve being forsaken, and punished and neglected and pressed down against the earth like some lovely savage dogs.

Hearing this, he looks down before frowning as he looks up. He was tired, his family was tired, they were all tired of the god forsaken Astrals that were supposedly there gods. “No, I will not allow that.” His eyes fills with rage, but his voice was calm and cold. “They will be the ones to suffer. You shall see, I will make them bow down and kiss the earth we walk on by force if I have too. I am tired of their reign, they will not be the only gods in this world now.”

Under normal circumstances, Cor would have enjoyed collaring his King. This was hardly normal though and Cor didn’t have the the time to admire the way Mors looked in a collar. He was too angry anyway. Seeing how the man was being treated...in a manner so beneath him...it made Cor want to burn the whole compound to the ground with everyone in it.

He couldn’t do that though. Not right now, anyway. Right now, his priority was getting Mors out and if he did it discreetly enough, they’d hopefully be long gone before anyone even noticed Mors was gone. That would be around the time his explosives would go off.

“It’s not my place to hurt you,” he said, keeping his tone even and free of emotion. “Only to escort you.”

The words had a double meaning, of course. To anyone overhearing, it would sound like he was simply a guard doing his duty. In reality, Cor’s place was to protect Mors and he was escorting him, but it was to safety.

He flinches, for a second, assuming the man in armor would decide to cut his neck – but no, he has gone for collaring him instead. Mors raised a brow, and tilted his head back, feeling the choker cinch just a loop too tight. He smirked a little, seeing that emotionless vacant suit of armor. He shifted, feeling his cuffs jostle, his wrists bound tight and firm, on his knees, before his captors.

“… Marking me for something important?” He asked. “Or are your claiming me as yours?”

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It was one thing wanting King Regis, but it was another in getting his father, Mors. When he was told as a reward, he was getting him, Glauca was sick in his stomach with rage. Why, why HIM?! So to come into the room and having the Lucis King prepared like this was, a bit unexpected. What was expected though, was how frail him form and skin looked, however, the way it was tied...He heard rumors about the man, but where they true? Did it matter? Looking down at the collar that he was given, he puts it on the man before stepping back.