#s4crificial

"Hm?" Darian seemed surprised at the question, but looked down at himself. For few seconds, he turned his limbs a little, inspecting himself for the first time since the fight had ended. He was still moving and didn't feel woozy, so he hadn't thought to do so. To those unused to it, he supposed it would look like an awful lot of blood. Thankfully, most of it wasn't his. Still, his left bicep had been grazed, an arrow he thought, and his side had been punctured by some small blade, luckily none too deep. But deep enough that, annoyingly, he'd be up late to mend his leather and tunic.

@s4crificial sent: ❛ can’t sleep? ❜ (maybe briar finds khaeryx studying at candlekeep during the night shift?)

Khaeryx looked up quickly, an eyebrow already raised in surprise. He knew the scholars of Candlekeep were up at all hours; the citadel, and the small city of courtyards and buildings that surrounded it never truly slept. So many academics were restless in their endeavors. Even so, he hadn't anticipated coming across someone.

"Ah," he smiled on reflex, a small and perhaps somewhat tired expression, "Yes, indeed. It's been a long time since I've come to Candlekeep, and find it difficult to settle down when I'm in unfamiliar places, I'm afraid."

Khaeryx paused, taking a moment to straighten the pile of scrolls that were spread on the desk around him, bringing a little more order to the parchments, "Though it seems I've gotten a little carried away with my translations, this evening." There were so many scrolls around him, perhaps all related, as it seemed he was going from one to the other, reading them in turn, all covered in some ancient, rune-like scrawl.

in every anger-fueled daydream, atticus had thought the process of killing to be something intense, drawn-out, and difficult. like the movies, he saw an intense fight, a battle for survival that ended in the loser clawing at the last shreds of life they could hold onto until inevitably made to let go. the reality somehow was somehow without any of the grandeur.

there was no dramatic, movie-style action sequence. there was no toe-to-toe fighting, matched blow for blow. there were no awful, witty little quips nor world-shattering words of wisdom.

death was cold, sudden, and the human body was the perfect home for it. 

it had happened so quickly, from the moment he had felt an unwelcome hand upon his body, to the moment he felt the unmistakable crack of bones beneath his squeezing fingers. the all-too familiar face of a stalker who had prowled the perimeter of his home, harassed his secretary for his private contact information, and routinely appeared at every press conference open to the public gazed back at him with glassy eyes finally devoid of the unhealthy fixation that had been like a disease.

throwing him down against the concrete should have been enough, but uncontrollable as his anger had been, only now did he see the fault of pursuing it to its end. even with no visible blood upon his hands, the feeling of squeezing the life out of a struggling, panicked body was not forgotten.

realizing he hadn’t let go, cooling skin bulging around the pressure applied his hands, he quickly withdrew them, trying to swallow down budding panic.

‘ good afternoon. i hope i did not disturb your morning, but i wished to stop by and introduce myself as your new neighbor. ‘

@s4crificial​ asked:  🤲 / from beck~!

“nooo!  no, no, keep that --- keep all of that --- far away from my face.  what were you doing outside,  digging snow??”

dramatic as they were, there was no doubting the playfulness underlaying their words, or the way which with they removed the other’s hands from their cheeks.  at least the fabric of his shirt was warm.  

aster so felt that, in his many years of living, by smell alone could he determine a place’s balance in the many realms. from utterly vile, like rotting trash, to so saccharine sweet he thought he may choke on the honey notes, from people to places, smells carried connotations eyes and ears alone could not discern. this place, however?

it felt rather... mixed.

cologne and perfume intermixed to create a suffocating concoction, swirling in the air of BUNNI. interesting choice of name. did the owner have a fondness for rabbits? was there a theme of bunnies? or was it some clever callback to the myth of the rabbit in the moon, tethered to the lounge’s nighttime operation?

he was thinking too hard on it. the name of the lounge in question was not what he had come to investigate, nor why he had gone to such lengths to spruce up. the tie, like a noose, around his neck felt far more smothering than the perfumed air as he strolled between booth after booth, passing beautiful women and sharp-toothed patrons. the fragrance of hunger struck him as he walked, wafting from tables where eyes that glimmered in the dim lighting lifted to study his stroll.

with a languid stretch, astraeus settled against his destination, lounging against the bar top to smile coyly at the employee separated from him by the granite slab.

Though the dragon was prone to roam beyond the borders of her homeland, rarely did she find herself on the land of Japan. Her few visits previous had been alright, enjoyable even, even though she wasn’t as familiar with the language as some of her other compatriots were. And though the dragon also wasn’t much of a partier, even she had to admit that the ambience of the club she had found herself in was quite different. But that could be said of any place inhuman clientele occupied hidden among the human world. It was something of a surprise to find such a gathering place hidden so plainly in sight, especially when she noticed that mortals also mingled with the crowd as well. 

They couldn’t know the truth of this place could they? Mm, no...it didn’t seem so. Which meant they were wholly unaware and likely just as unaware regarding the true purpose behind their presence. Dark eyes regarded the scene over the rim of her glass from her place in a quieter corner of the room, another slow sip of liquor burning along the back of her tongue. Maybe it was something to look into if the place posed a threat to the mortals-- she had never been overly fond of wanton destruction. Chalk it up to a lingering bit of her past, but she had a bit of a protective soft spot for humans. Not that there was much she could do if the place was dangerous, she had to admit. Huaxiu and the others’ jurisdiction was solely in China, and although they would undoubtedly want to help if it came down to it, there was no use in getting them in trouble for sticking their noses in another pantheon’s domain.

Slim fingers brushed against the slinky material of her dress with a small twinge of gratefulness that she hadn’t overdressed. If anything, looking at the people around her...ugh, she might actually be a tad underdressed in the simple dark blue cocktail dress she had donned for the visit. Another sweep of the club had the dragon’s eyes landing on a dark-haired woman, one who clearly held the power here. It was obvious, and impossible to ignore the way other’s heads turned as she passed, nor the way the flow of attention seemed to be drawn wherever she went like a magnet. Alright then, she was the one to go to for information about this place. 

Glass in hand, Meihui rose from her seat with confident, quick strides taking her right up to the woman herself. No use hovering around waiting to be acknowledged, she never did do well ‘playing’ at meekness.