#levent.

It's over. Done. Those were only some of the words that Levent had sneered into his face, had cemented into his thoughts within a future that no longer existed. It would be foolish of Bastien to think the eladrin did not remember saying those words. Nor that he decided to not mean them. Their sides had been chosen, their choices had been made. Levent betrayed Pythia, while Bastien had rooted himself beside them. All the visions that the oracle had ever peered into, had ripped from the Graeae's hands were tarnished now. They no longer existed, morphed from all that had happened. And he had not chosen to look into them further, to see if anything would change.

"Let me guess," he mused in a voice heavily accented and slurred as his gaze fell upon the approaching Eladrin, "you are here to tell me, I told you so?" The question hung in the air for a moment, before the witch laughed at his own words.

Levent had not relented his frustrations to Bastien, had not been able to speak them before they had been interrupted. Before the time had been upon them to ready themselves for this war. The knowledge of words left unspoken had been at the back of his mind, even more so after the punishment had been dealt to the Narcissus sovereign. When Pythia made it know why one did not cross them, why one did not turn their back upon the book. "What are these frustrations, Levent?" He urged once they had secured themselves some privacy. Or rather, once Bastien had pushed him into a secluded area. "What is happening to you?"

Blood had dripped from his hands, each new sacrifice to the good of the book had left its mark upon him. It coated nearly every part of him, and Bastien mildly wondered if he should have worn the sweatpants that Lucretia had shoved at him. The thought was fleeting, for the oracle had much more important matters to attend to. The book had been wrongfully decimated, and now, he would get to enjoy the selection process of finding those worthy of becoming its next skin. That is, until his gaze landed on that which held a permanent place within his thoughts. His movements were quiet and quick, until he seized Levent from behind. "I should skin you alive, cement your devotion to the book once and for all," he hissed into the other's ear, for betrayal and anger were all that the witch could focus upon.

A God was dead, and Lucretia had done what many others before her could not, or simply would not. And Bastien’s vision had come to fruition, a fact that pleased him immensely. Which was precisely why he had made himself right at home in Levent’s room, legs kicked up onto the bed as if he made all the rules. Though, the Eladrin should have known by now that what was his was also Bastien’s. “Come, come,” he instructed the moment the other had come into the room, a hand patted upon the space next to him. It had never been unusual for the witch to be in high spirits, but with the latest victory for the Asphodel coven, it was exceptionally high. A grin transformed his features as Levent came in closer, and he hummed with an almost giddiness, “Are you ready to celebrate?”

✶ 𝗝𝗨𝗘𝗚𝗢𝗦 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗦 › 'el juego dice “bloqueado por lenguaje inapropiado”, ¿fuiste tú?' @liamfhg @levizrk

It was vile, the way that more and more lycans flocked to the dirt paths of Lupercal. The smell of them was atrocious enough, now Bastien had to practically share quarters with them. If one more thought to touch him, he'd ensure they were used next in his attempt to draw forth another vision. Still hindered, he'd not yet approached Trivia, or Apollo, or any other that potentially held the answers that he so desperately sought. For he'd yet to come up with the words necessary to seek assistance, to ask for help. So to keep himself from causing a commotion within the center of lycanville, Bastien had set to wandering. Perhaps hoping to garner some better idea of where he had now set himself up. Coming upon the Moon Gate had not been his intention, especially after he had sworn he'd keep away from it. He had no use for it, after all.

Blood still lingered on his hands, sacrifices of those that would not be missed within the city. The dream still crawled across his skin, still crept within the confines of his mind. Bastien hadn't had an incomplete vision since he was young, since he'd first started pulling them from the hands of the Graeae. Since before he had been gifted the power that came from the Necronomicon. Until now. The dream bothered him, annoyed him that he couldn't pinpoint precisely what had or would occur from the minor amount that he had been gifted. The sound of a door opening drew him from his thoughts, from replaying the dream in his head. He focused his gaze to the blood that clung to his hands, before he looked up to Levent, "I still don't know what it means. Or who they were. Nothing more than I've already seen."