#pcndaemonium

The meeting with Dion had gone... not as poor as it could have, but Joshua would have been a liar to say he wasn't disappointed. The King of Dragons - Bahamut - was not one to back down from a threat, even if that threat was one he couldn't fully understand. It had seemed like a boon to discover him so open to the idea of Ultima, but it was little more then a cursed gift, the believe simply making him want to try to handle it on his own.

Joshua was not blind. He was not an idiot. He knew exactly what Dion meant when he said he had to handle something on his own first.

The Emperor...

Such was Dion's decision. Joshua would not have been able to stop him even if he tried; both his own and the Phoenix's strength paled in comparison to Dion and Bahamut's. He could only hope that this decision wouldn't cause further troubles down the line.

Sir Terence had been meant to see Joshua out, but it really hadn't been that hard to slip away from him. He was playing with fire being here, so close to where his mother lived, but he found himself almost... compelled as he walked down one of the marble hallways.

And he paused, feeling something... wrong. Like an icy hand touching the back of his neck - and reaching into his chest, squeezing at his heart and lungs. He had felt this before, whenever Ultima had gotten near.

Joshua glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was following him, but his attempts to survey his surroundings were interrupted by a sudden coughing fit. He leaned heavily against one of the walls as one hand pressed up against his mouth, both to stifle the noise and to hide the blood he knew he would be spitting up.

@pcndaemonium || 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸𝒟 for a 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒯𝐸𝑅

Its bitter - every breath of air drawn inward tastes akin to smoke and grief, a flavour no amount of water could wash away nor food consumed deaden. War was always the same - the constant struggle between two sides grasping at straws in immediate desperation to secure better for their people - - and yet one couldn't help but wonder if better methods would provide better results.

Ruminating, his highness is momentarily unaware of surroundings; thoughts surrendered to possibility while eyes stare blankly down towards a map he finds he has neglected the use of for some days. Far more pressing matters have presented themselves, disallowing of the sensitivities regarding warfare planning.

The sudden appearance of a knight at the entrance to his tent snaps his attention away from guilt and hope and instead draws it back to the present - attention dragged towards the presence of an unknown upon the very edge of the encampment.

With little thought once more paid towards the map, Dion casts his honeyed gaze towards the outdoors ere boots begin their pacing - intent lay upon discovering this unknown that has but a number of his men mildly concerned and learning the reason for their presence. Few would willing linger 'pon the cusp of a battlefield, after all; not if given a possible leave.

Bootsteps slow, uneven terrain and parched grasslands not making for a pleasant walk; the line of his gaze eventually settling upon the figure aforementioned. In truth, he knew not what to expect but he left ample distance between himself and them should he need to react rather quickly;

message received !

It was the start of another beautiful day in Amaurot, but the Emissary was not present to see it. Instead he stood just outside the iron-grated entrance of Pandaemonium, waiting patiently for the arrival of his host. The facility had been left to Lahabrea's care following the completion of his investigation, and in his capacity as Elidibus, he no longer held any authority there. But that did not mean he could not visit for personal reasons, as he did now.

Having alerted one of the warders stationed near the gates to his presence, they had left him briefly in order to fetch the man he had come to meet - Erichthonios. Though it was rare for Elidibus to take a break from his duties long enough for an extended visit, he had been unable to resist Erichthonios's invitation. And so he had come, not as Elidibus, but as Themis, though his mask and robes remained those of his station.

Glancing up with eyes somewhat shadowed by the exhaustion of his duties, a small smile blooms across his lips as he sees the warder hurrying his way, trailed by the very friend he had come to meet.

Little sparks, little specks of souls, fragmented and shattered and broken.

Arachne is no better than them, in a way, when compared to the radiance that is her wife. But oh, how reassuring it is to feel there is a 'them' and she's not part of it.

"And where is the line, my heart?" She asks.

@pcndaemonium -- ✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨   //   unprompted ask,   always accepting   !

RABBIT'S FOOT. whwhwhw bless u krissy. i'd hit ask limit on gods because i think all my moots are wonderful lmfao ,,, uhhhh. folks that i blow kees too be: you !, @inkbloodcd, @ichoric, @sirenicae, @scionitics, @quietpace, @ahkmourn, @seatedsacrifice, @apolitos, @apcthii, @tellusbane, @gatheredfates . . all.