#pactbound

"It was all you were ever made for, my sweet Octavia. Made for consumption, made to be used. My sweet little mouse, you were just a little lamb made for the slaughter."

Been a hot minute since this blog was active, so here’s a refresher

For the Lore of this blog, Arthur made a pact with an Archefae named Lady Browyn. She offered him a chance to bring Lewis back to life on the agreement that should he succeed, Arthur would be bound to her as a Pactbound Servant.

Arthur succeeded.

As far as everyone else remembers of the cave, Mystery was able to intervene and remove the demon and Arthur’s arm before anything else happened. Lewis never ‘went missing’ and has been with the group the whole time. (Incidentally Arthur’s own memory of the cave is non-existent as a result of the possession and has no idea his is the hand that killed Lewis)

Being Pactbound is more than just making a deal. It binds the souls of those in the agreement, a side affect of which is Arthur is somewhat fae now, which imparts, among other things, unusual eyes and ears, some magical ability, and a weakness to cold iron.

Arthur hasn’t told anyone in universe about the deal and is terrified of Lewis or Vivi finding out and trying to save him by ending his contract, which would end in Lewis being dead again. He’s worried they won’t believe him on that part since if Lady Bronwyn told him to lie, he’d have no choice to.

He is hopelessly gone for both his best friends, but is even less likely to act on it before, since he’s been keeping secrets and lying he feels even less worthy of their attention. Instead he’s been using their distraction with each other to drift away. It’s better for them, no matter how much it hurts.

He’s spent most of his free time on learning what he’ll have to know as a member of Lady Bronwyn’s Court. A little swordplay, a little magic (mostly glamours) to hide his movements and slight change in appearance) and mostly etiquette.

Vivi came screeching around the corner into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with Lewis and Arthur; her face alight with joy, in spite of the bandage covering the goose-egg on her forehead, stark white against the bright blue of her hair. “Got it!” she crowed, flinging her arms around Arthur and Lewis. “Old Man Bradford gave us carte blanche to deal with the haunting at the old Bradford Plantation house.” She paused and tapped her forehead right next to the bandage. “I guess he felt guilty on account of my getting hurt!”

Victor Bradford had not been very welcoming to the Mystery Skulls, even though his son, Vincent, had hired them to communicate with the obvious haunting of the old plantation house that they were planning to refurbish and establish as a ‘haunted’ B&B tourist trap to lure in the people that were drawn to Tempo by the town’s reputation as a place where the paranormal infringed on the fabric of reality on a daily basis. It was all well and fine that the windows and doors opened by themselves and that voices whispered in empty rooms, but when a roofer had fallen through into the attic, things had gone from ghostly to poltergeist in a day.

Two more workers had been hurt before Vincent Bradford had called them in, hoping to appease whatever had been awoken by the renovations. But Victor had been less than pleasant about their interference, sure that they would ruin their plans by banishing the spirits that haunted the old place, not just the dangerous one. He’d done his best to interfere with their investigation.

He’d apparently changed his tune when the poltergeist had tripped Vivi on the stairs. Lewis had managed to catch her before the fall proved to be fatal, but she’d gotten a good whack by the banister on the head, one that had worried Arthur and Lewis enough to take their dazed partner to the hospital to get checked out.

She’d been seeing double, so they had kept her overnight for observation. She’d just been released that morning, and had spent most of it on the phone with the Bradfords.

Still grinning, she kissed Lewis on the cheek and ruffled Arthur’s hair, before pulling back. “Pack the van, boys, we got some work to do!”

In a moment where she wasn't thinking, she took one of his hands and guided it towards her face. There was a intensity in his eyes that she hadn't even seen before as her face leaned closer towards his hand. Gently she pressed her lips on the palm of his hands. A sigh had escaped from him, it sounded so intimate that it made her shiver. She turned his hand and pressed her lips on the back of his hand where the Netherstone usually sat. She kissed his knuckles lightly, her breath warm on his skin.

No, it was like Raphael had said, she was made for consumption and made to be used. What was she but an obedient object waiting for a leash to be yanked?

x

Breathe me