#kill code tsams

A blooming symbol of love and devotion throughout the many eons. Rich as blood, white as snow, innocence and beauty wrapped in silky petals that catch the eye in a rainbow of colors.

---*---

A rose.

But for every meaning, there is something lurking beneath it. Thorns and vines that creep and crawl, ensnare and trap. False promises and a dagger hidden behind one's back. Such a cliche it is, but you cannot deny them to be among your favorite flora.

Twirling a dark green stem, adorning near blackened spikes, you muse the burgundy flower in your grasp. An errant thing that had thought to trip you in your waltz through your garden. Shadows drape thickly from the shadowing spire above while you bring yourself to carelessly toss it aside, forsaking it to wither and die. Silly thing. There is only space for one master of the unexpected here.

Speaking of...

"Sun," you casually address the air. In a slicing breeze, so subtle, yet easily caught by you, a lithe form apparates beside you. His bright hues are twinged by a smidgen of brass, voided pearlescent orbs drinking you in, a wide, fang-toothed grin displaying his exuberance. White gloves clench together tightly against his sternum, covered by lush copper fabric, a billowing shirt layered with a flaxen vest, tucked into crisp tawny dress pants. 

His rays twirl upon beholding your visage. "Yes, mistress?" he greets cheerfully, beaming enough to shame his namesake.

"Tell me, how long has it been this time?" you inquire lightly, attentive to your flowerbeds, your fingers trailing their plush inhabitants, on proud display at the crux of their lives. You have no need to specify what you mean. Sun already knows. For as rambunctious as he is, one of his little ticks is his imbecile attention to detail. 

"One thousand years, three months, nine days, sixteen hours," Sun recites immediately. Your lips curl into a soft smile. Perfect, just what you wanted to hear. Never did they fail you, even when it seemed like they had. Always part of your grand schemes.

"Hm, very well," you mutter aloud, search through your blossoms ceasing. Delicately, you grip another stem. This one is attached to a fiery orange chrysanthemum. Pleased at the dazzling bloom, you twist your gaze upward to regard your lone estate, a stone brick castle buried deeper than any mortal man would dare tread. 

"We shall gather," you command.

At once Sun clings to you, hands at your waist and neck, a plea slipping from his gleaming teeth. "Might I be the one to go, oh please, my mistress?"

You hum amusement to his simpering, burrowed into the back of your neck, no doubt craving a variety of things, even if his main objective is going out to have fun. You reflect on it, eying the plant in your hold. You let his anticipation build before dashing it.

"Not this time, my spark. Perhaps the next, if I am feeling so generous," you decline, smiling all the while. You catch the whine in his throat, digging deeper against your skin, but he agonizingly relents, if just to sulk.

"Yes, mistress," he concedes, trailing akin to a kicked puppy on the path inside. Darkened hallways, lit by scant, low burning torches provide a soothingly eerie atmosphere, corralling you past vacant rooms dripping in cobwebs and nothingness. You move through the labyrinthian structure with practiced elegance and finesse, entering a grand throne room. Vaulted, cathedral like ceilings soar above you, a kaleidoscope of blackened stained glass windows forming parallel rows to your favorite lounging spot, high aloft cracked ebony and gold marble steps. 

A multitude of glowing eyes affix to your leisurely gait as you approach. To the far right, blazing red dots are offset by swirling white and scarlet, the other a ruby pentagram. Short, off the shoulder cloaks, frayed and torn at the edges, aid in distinguishing the twins, the one hosting the whirlpooling maroon and ivory lilting down his right side, while the other has theirs on the left. Loose button ups, one black, the opposing wine red, hang loosely over equally disregarded matching inky slacks.

To their left, a behemoth figure, no less thin than any of his family, but bearing over them all. Silvery and dark, sharp edges glinting deadliness in the dim illumination. Emblazoned pauldrons fit him cleanly, paired by braces on his forearms and legs, over conforming navy blue leather. Chain mail flows to his shoulders from the metallic sheet pinned atop his dome, refracting pinprick vermilion in an obsidian void.

Standing at the stair's very base, rustic orange is split by pure midnight, protruding rays burnt umber on the edges. Marigold irises study you, narrowed in thought. Black buckles latch secure an umber shirt, lined by amber threads. His pressed pants, satin, host the same at their hems. Silky charcoal gloves cover wickedly tipped fingers, curled inward at his side. From his shoulders, inside drenched in a shade to put a cardinal to shame, while the outside flares akin to fire, is a cape secured by copper chains and a brass sun tinted black at the rays' rims.

Hovering a few feet off, cream and indigo sever the next inhabitant's visage, honeyed rays framing the family's signature crescent facial designs. Striped clothes, plum with sliver ivory chiffon bands between, ripple down his frame, loose and light, the ends of sleeves and pants fashioned into small spikes that ring his wrists and ankles. A nightcap, silvery white stars stitched amid twilight blue and lined by soft pearlescent fabric, drapes to his shoulder, topped by a little yellow bell.

Bringing up the final of the sun-themed members, tangerine is halved by burnt penny, distracted brilliant saffron eyes complimented by his matching rays. He carries himself far less refined, a simple tawny tunic and russet pants scattered by pockets. Worn leather gloves attest to him tinkering before your summons, and you amusedly contemplate what he might present you next.

The last two are a spot of varying shades of blue among the shadowy space. One is nearer your height, painted in more icy and turquoise hues. Much like the sky on a clear summer's day, their eyes gleam brightly, a depth someone lesser might get lost to. Puffs and frills proudly bolster his slightly stockier shape, an arctic hood with a lengthy tail attached to his top's billowing folds. A luna moth charm has been attached to it, fluttering and shimmering at every tiny movement.

Clinging to the back, the final brother keeps his cobalt and cerulean appearance partially concealed beneath a powdery teal veil, cascading to a point on the left side of his face, attached to a cobweb halo crowning him. Moonlit silver orbs remain pensive, a leather-bound book clutched in sapphire claws. His sleeves and pants flare open in petal-like design, stormy gray fiber fading to stony blue, a comfortable fit which always gave him the notion of an incoming tempest, a beautiful sight, in your not-so-humble opinion.

It was always so exhilarating, having them so ready to jump into action at a mere word or snap of your fingers. Ascending to your throne, you seat yourself onto royal purple cushions that would no doubt have many a ruler jealous with their softness. Poised, unreadable smile lifting your lips, your gaze leisurely sweeps the assembly.

"I believe the time has come for the next story, my dear attendants," you declare near off-handedly. There is an obvious shift among many, an eagerness or irritation at long last relieved. "They have had their silly little millennia of peace, and I think I have just the wake up call our newest toy will require."

Lifting the chrysanthemum, you spare it no care when you crush it in your palm. The velvet bloom tearing and ripping at your harshness brings you no small amount of joy, feeling it morph as it bleeds water and tears. It elongates, petals compressing inward, hardening until all that is left in your hand is a vividly orange pen.

Bringing it down for examination, you chuckle faintly. "Loyalty and stubbornness. A righteous pride, so fueled by bitterness. Mesminax, Penatax, Eclipse, let us go give this hero the push they need, hm? Remmos, I will inquire of you in the library later. Klycis, do be sure to water the garden for me afterward. The grounds will hunger for it."

"It shall...be done," Klycis vows, raspy and deep from where he looms on high. Not that you needed the assurance. Still, you won't ignore the devotion.

"Very good, my faithful hound," you coo, offering him a pet along the chin via a raised arm. He melts into your touch as if a man starving, rumbling a purring content until you abruptly slip away. The arrow of disappointment that strikes him only makes you titter. "There will be more time for our fun later. There has been plenty of it this past thousand years, after all."

"There's never enough, when it comes to you," a bold, high voice declares, Lunar appearing beside you, kneeling at your feet. "Mistress, let me come with. I will ensure they learn a lesson they'll never forget."

Your smile widens, giggling behind a hand, which you lower to cup his chin. "Silly boy. Jealousy is such an endearing look on you, but it will not get you your way, not this time. There are violent examples to be made, not tricks to be pulled."

He huffs, yet withdraws. You smirk, tapping a finger along the armrest. "Patience, my prism. You know your day will come. For now, a meager village awaits."

You unfurl from the throne, the red twins skittering around you excitedly, flashing shark-like fangs. Eclipse climbs the steps as you raise the pen, releasing glittering lines of carnelian, sparking flaming edges. The air fizzes and wavers, and the crimson-drenched pair are the first to dash through the portal.

Eclipse arrives next to you, analyzing your creation. You indulge him, waiting with a jovial leer. Ever calculating, always looking for the chink in your armor, to understand you and your capabilities. His games are indeed the most amusing among the brothers. 

And you would never pass up the chance to poke at his power struggle. Your hand presents itself, an expectant gesture. He appraises it from his periphery, rolling his bright pupils and slipping his over yours to escort you past the fiery gate.

On the other side, you linger at the border of a large, swaying wheat field. Beyond, quaint thatch and stone homes pop up a short distance from a lake's shore.

Mesminax and Penatax barely restrain themselves already, hungry eyes watching your arrival. All is silent and dark, stars scattered in the void above you, a clawed moon failing to provide a source of light.

"Have them gather in the center," you murmur instruction, twirling your hand in Eclipse's hold to expose your wrist. He hums amicably, bringing your flesh to his mouth before his fangs find purchase in your skin. You do not flinch, instead exhaling a relaxed breath. You can see his aura shift, hazy and uncaring, into a lavender of pleasure and energy, ringing his pupils in muted radiance.

He eases free, satisfaction shining in his eyes. Turning, he approaches the village mutely. A thin black fog begins to roll from under the folds of his cape, closed around his person. It seeps through the streets swiftly, and you catch the gleam of his marigold pupils wreathed by violet strands of misty stygian.

Slowly, people emerge from their homes, unnervingly quiet as they congregate around Eclipse, expressions blank. Your observe faces, searching for distinction. You grin loosely when you find it. "The young one with auburn hair," you mark lowly. Behind you, the twins' excitement ramps up. "Release."

In a blink, the residents start to stir. There is evident confusion, neighbors glancing at each other for answers. Apprehension swells near the front, some realizing the vampire among them and flinching back. There is no real time to react, though.

Like the hounds of Hell, Mesminax and Penatax descend.

Chaos is truly beautiful to witness every time, no matter how close or far you are. The musical symphony of yelling and screaming. Splashing of rich red liquids and pounding feet that do not get far. It does not take long for fire to blaze, some poor fool's attempt to burn your feral beasts. Throughout it all, you trace the girl's path, strolling closer as if it was any other day.

Clearing a town this size is mere child's play for the blood crazed twins. Scuttling creatures and shards of hardened scarlet disintegrate as the carnage dwindles, pooling into a flood of garnet liquid and guts that paints your shoes red, which you ultimately ignore.

Among the bodies, Mesminax and Penatax clearly ride their high, voraciously consuming gallon after gallon of blood. Not a speck of them is not drenched, and you coo at the sight of their fervor. It snaps them to attention, briefly, cupping either brothers' cheeks proudly. "You did so well. Be sure to save some for the garden, but otherwise, you deserve your treat. Not any other drop wasted."

Their zealous gazes delight you, adoration oozing from every inch. "Yes, mistress," Mesminax growls happily, diving back into his feasting. Penatax loiters for your contact just a smidge longer, but cannot resist the call and smell of the feast around him. Reluctantly, with a near whimper, he tears himself free and rejoins his twin.

Eclipse wanders over, impassive to the slaughter, if anything, slightly put off by the mess. "Will that be all?" he grumbles.

Your arms fold behind you, surveying the twins dining, your head tilting in a slight dip to the side. "For now. Klycis will still require some of this, but otherwise, there is only one last thing of import."

Abruptly, your focus snatches to your right, and you catch the eye of the remaining villager. The adolescent drops back, horror and terror brimming past their rims in salty tears, skin stained by maroon. You can tell Eclipse has followed your line of sight, and you both hushly stare her down. Minutely, your grin curves, and you spot the ignition of fight or flight. She scrambles away, darting out of view behind a smoldering house.

"Hm. Perhaps there is something you can do, if you are still bored, my thorn. You might give her a little extra scare. Just enough to ensure she collapses before her return," you suggest. Eclipse debates the worthwhile of such an action. He is never one to be delegated to a singular menial task, though. Playing mind games with the young hero will satiate him, for now. You both already know this.

And just like that, you and the twins are departed of his company. There is no doubt he'll make his own way back, after he is done.

Whirling around, you note how red splatters across dirt and walls, yet no longer pools on the earth. They have obviously yearned to gorge themselves, and already leave mere traces behind. Certainly there will be plenty to scar your hero though.

Seeking their presence, you acknowledge each sibling holding buckets in opposing claws. Perfect.

"Well, well, you two truly are on your best behavior tonight, aren't you? How sweet. Do not fret, you will get an extra reward for remembering. When you have left those with Klycis and I have spoken to Remmos, you know where to meet me," you croon. Your caress glides across exposed chests, and you both feel and see the synchronized shudders that rattle them.

---*---

Moonlight stains through the ground through tinted glass, softly glowing against the many spines of the innumerous books around you. A soft melody carries from nearby, guiding you closer and closer to its source. Velvety fabric takes a rainbow sheen, perfectly tailored to you, trailing a short train of peacock feathers where they are stitched to the fabric pooling just shy of the floor at your feet.

You come to a stop at a small alcove. A private grotto in which one might find relaxation, harboring a book stack on the little table within. Which is exactly what the lone resident is doing.

Grasped in a delicate, practiced hand, Moon devours the story in front of him. Those charmingly silver orbs are so focused and eager, lost in the land held by the pages. He dons a silky blue robe lined in ebony, tied loosely by a matte gray sash, sleeves dripping from his wrists like a waterfall. Ah, must have taken a bath earlier. Rarely does he wear anything so revealing, even if his normal attire is just as flowing and nonrestrictive. 

A pity. You would have joined him, had you known. Ah well. At least you were here to witness him now.

Gliding forward so soundlessly not even his vampiric abilities could detect it, you press up against the back of his seat. Your arms slip around to encompass him, fingers idly splaying across his exposed chest. You smirk when he jumps and releases a squeak, giggles escaping you at the adorable sound.

"Good evening, my sweet iris. My, my, don't you look cozy?" you coo, eying the gramophone nearly consumed by the stacked hardbacks on the table. The source of the soothing notes that led you here in the first place.

"M-mistress," he babbles his greeting, clearly recovering from the shock, all while his face dusts a powdery sapphire hue at your roving touch.

You chuckle, leaning in closer to study his reading choice. "Hm, the Poems of Lashaye. Feeling forlorn tonight, are we? Surely you know you could always seek company if you so desired a cure for your loneliness...," you whisper, lips trailing along the circular curve of his face. In any other place or time, his veil would be there, shielding him. Not here in his beloved library, though. While you do think it fits him and his endearing meekness, you do love being able to see the entirety of his celestial-themed visage, too.

Moon stiffens at you actions, the glow on his cheeks starting to spread. "O-of course, mistress. B-but I swear it's not that. I... I just like how they write," he mutters, eyes casting to the side.

You regard him a moment, noting his hands now fidgeting with the book, almost nearly dropping it in his inexperienced nervousness. Humming noncommittally, you ease, if just slightly. "A fair answer, and rather fitting, for you," you concede, smiling faintly. "You are quite the little shadow, after all.  Here one moment, gone the next. How might one ensnare you, I wonder?"

Musing this, two fingers dance up his torso, coming to linger around his neck. Vampires do not have pulses nor hearts, not in the mortal sense, but you can swear to almost feel something thrumming and thumping beneath his cool skin.

"Mistress, please," he nearly whines on a breath, squirming slightly from the unexpected interruption, you pouncing on him akin to a tiger.

"'Mistress please' what, my timid little bloom?" you urge gently, digits grazing his throat to cup his head. The book is entirely forgotten at this point, Moon battling his bashfulness at your endless teasing and playing.

"I...I...," he tries, the words he loves consuming so much abandoning him. You can spot it so easily, his introverted nature caught by his spark of interest. Try as some of them might, none of them are immune to you, and you know it. The way your claws sink in, twist their pretty little heads around. You don't even need to use a single bit of your power, either. Not that you ever would. No, enticing them, having them wrapped around your finger, no matter if a few evade or struggle to fight you, is so much more entertaining.

And you'll always return the devotion in kind, just to keep them here. Pawns are only as useful and loyal as they allow themselves to be.

Watching from a balcony above, golden eyes flicker, flashing their displeasure. His tongue clicks, belaying his anger as he whips about, storming away, exiting into another level of the castle.

While you reflect on this, lips crash together, and the novel falls to the floor.

---*---

Constantly bearing witness to your shameless scheming never fails to put Eclipse in a bad mood. Is it not enough that they follow your orders to the letter? Must you lead his brothers (and him) along? Countless years later, and it still eats at him.

Stuck in his irritation, Eclipse rounds a corner and nearly collides into a hulking figure. Staring down at him, Klycis raises a brow at Eclipse's lack of awareness, a rare slip up for the usually on guard vampire.

"Brother. What...troubles you so?" the behemoth questions lowly, gravel grounding through his tone.

At first, Eclipse does not respond, merely stewing and contemplating. He has had this conversation plenty of times already, and he's not sure he's up for another go tonight, the image of your closeness to Moon eating away at him. Your tender touch, the passionate kisses, the noises you made-

"What do you think?" he snaps, unable to stop himself, wanting nothing more than to banish the thoughts before they overwhelm his mental capacities.

"Ah," Klycis murmurs, shifting awkwardly in place.

"'Ah'? Is that all you have to say?" Eclipse shoots back heatedly, face twisting in scorn. "They're in there, all over our brother, screwing with him, again, and that's the best you can come up with?!"

Klycis fails to respond, mutely staring and waiting, clearly keeping their patience. "This whole thing gets crazier, year by year, and yet it seems like no one else here cares! Our mistress, as they insultingly insist we call them, may as well have Sunny, Lunar, and the twins on leashes! Hell, they call you a literal hound! We are supposed to be better than this! Why is it that I'm the only one keeping a level head around here?! We're supposed to have each other's backs! You were meant to be our protector, when push came to shove! You promised it yourself! And now we're prostrate before this goddess that's clouded our brothers' judgement!"

Eclipse raves, pacing back and forth, Klycis's head following the repetitive action. When it seems Eclipse has finished, or at least paused for a breather, Klycis breaks his silence once again.

"Do you...wish to leave?"

The query is simple, and should be ever so easy for Eclipse to say yes to. Yet, when his mouth opens, nothing comes out. Eclipse's form winds tight, shifting into reluctance, a hand clutching the opposing arm so tightly it threatens to break skin. Memories tear through him, a dark cave, screaming, crying, fire, blood, desperation, and then the sound of many pumping hearts surrounding them, cornering them, abruptly falling still. An outstretched hand and tempting offers.

"...No," he relents with all the vitriol of pulling teeth.

Klycis, observing him intently, sighs, kneeling to be closer to Eclipse's height. "Do you...doubt me...Eclipse? Believe me...a fool? Ignorant? Untrustworthy?"

Eclipse scoffs, ripping his hand free from his other limb. "What sort of stupid question is that?"

Klycis' frown deepens, if just for a blink, before his expression morphs into something begetting understanding. "I do everything....for our clan. I would not...put us in true danger. Our mistress...we owe them much. But...I would never allow it...to lead us to harm. I know it is...difficult...to accept, but...we could not be...in a safer place, nor in...gentler care."

A deep growl longs to build in Eclipse's chest. Here he is, once more, on the losing end of the argument. He can't help when he gets worked up over them being pulled along like puppets. Still, he knows there are worse fates that could await them out there, especially if they do something to upset their benefactor enough. He's seen them do some truly awful things from plain boredom. He has no desire to gain any motivated ire from their goddess.

While it resolves none of his continuous bitterness, Eclipse elects to shelve his irritation again. For now. Grumbling, he brushes past Klycis, whom looses another sigh and stands to watch his retreat, conflicted.

There is much to all their relationships with the mistress, and Klycis cannot deny he has his own deep-rooted feelings towards them at this point. Still, worry festers in the farthest depths of him. Eclipse has always been the most paranoid among them, yet his unrest has kept them from death more than once. It did not sit right, these conversations. Dismissing issues, including potentially valid ones. 

You had gone through many heroes, even long before their arrival, and while they remained, would there come a point where you decided you were done playing with them, too? What then? Would you truly just let them go, as you had said when you first came to them? What even were they to you at this point? Were they truly just pawns, after all this time? A part of him longed to believe otherwise, but the very logic of what Eclipse spouted, and their situation in general, dampened such hope.