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@taintedaether-blog
send me an â and i'll put my music on shuffle, get the song, and post my favorite line as a starter.
xponddâarchive:

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Send me ⨠for my muse to be transformed into a dragon for a thread.
horrificmemes:
Send me â⨠reverseâ for your muse to be a dragon.
taintedaether:
âMor Dhona⌠Frightens me. Especially that.â She pointed to Syrcus, and pressed into the man firmly, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder as she sighed, snuggling in. âSomething here feels Wrong. Like if Iâm here too long something might get me.â
âAh. Nothing would now, but long agoâŚâ He looked in the direction she was pointing, and shivered. âLong ago, yes, there was danger there. Beauty, too, but the Allagan Empire gave up any beauty it had.â
Efah blinked, and wiggled into Tiridates further, cooing a moment before sighing.
âA - friend says the name they gave me is Allagan. Efah. âHope prings Eternalâ. I got hurt and they took my name away but my friend gave me a new one.â
It also meant dark things in the Ascian language, but he need not know that. A very anxious purr came from her, and she huffed at Syrcus, murmuring.
â...looks like the bad place. With needles and claws.â
taintedaether:
Efah hated Mor Dhona.
It felt wrong, with too many bad feelings, but, there had been work through, and after doing her job the broken Warrior of Light was returnng to Thanalan when she sighted a camp, and black robes.
She blinked, moving for her new discovery curiously as she did, and blinked. She saw no ascian, but still a man - oddly familiar.
She knew his scent, appearance - everything, but not who he was, and reaching for the memory felt like sheâd been hollowed out, and ached, making her mewl in pain before moving over and headbutting him softly, ears pinned
âAre you okay mister?â.
Something about the⌠miqoâte? She seemed like a Miqoâte, but something was⌠odd, nonetheless⌠was familiar, so he had little issue with her unconventional and very feline approach.
Instead, he offered her a small, but polite smile, and even a distracted pat about the ears - it seemed the natural thing to do, with the way she had headbutted him for attention.
âWell⌠enough,â he said, blue eyes dark with sympathy. âBut you donât seem that way. Is aught amiss with you, young one?â
âMor Dhona... Frightens me. Especially that.â She pointed to Syrcus, and pressed into the man firmly, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder as she sighed, snuggling in. âSomething here feels Wrong. Like if Iâm here too long something might get me.â
Today is not a particularly good day. Instead of leaning on his ascian persona and the strength of his god, the being ordinarily known as Lahabrea, once and at this precise moment, Tiridates of Allag, is fumbling to adjust his glasses and seek a quiet place to rest, where he wonât feel like there are eyes upon him. Fortunately, for days like this he has a plainer set of black robes that he wears, ones that will keep any overly-informed observer from thinking âascianâ.
Unfortunately, heâs jump, and anxious, and the grief that took him prior to his ascension is back in full swing. While heâs never fallen entirely into Tiridatesâ bleak hopelessness again, days like this are⌠hard. Especially so now that heâs set up camp in Mor Dhona, too close to the tower, sealed though it is.
Perhaps, if he could but find a tome to read, he can occupy himself until his strength, until his better half, his stronger half can manifest once moreâŚ
Efah hated Mor Dhona.
It felt wrong, with too many bad feelings, but, there had been work through, and after doing her job the broken Warrior of Light was returnng to Thanalan when she sighted a camp, and black robes.
She blinked, moving for her new discovery curiously as she did, and blinked. She saw no ascian, but still a man - oddly familiar.
She knew his scent, appearance - everything, but not who he was, and reaching for the memory felt like sheâd been hollowed out, and ached, making her mewl in pain before moving over and headbutting him softly, ears pinned
âAre you okay mister?â.

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âThereâs too many Voidsent out here this time of year and Iâm not able to hunt them without people realizing it. The Twelve hate me.â
onât kn but follows the Ascian contentedly. This one is okay. She likes her. Him. Them? Whichever.
âI do not know. I think - I already fell.â
Because she has been altered by ascians, or so it feels. Tampered with, and everything starts to feel confusing, the girlsitting to rub her face. Her mind is swimming, and then sheâs nervous, moving near to hide.
âMmmnnn⌠I donât want to get gotten.â
âNo, sweetling, you are still standing,â they say with another giggle. âHavenât fell yet. Or you did, but you are cracked. Not broken. Not yet. Like an egg. But not a broken one.â They hum. âHumpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. Four-score Men and Four-score more, could not make Humpty Dumpty where he was before.â
A sigh slips from them. âYou might get got, but then again you might not,â they singsong. âKeep safe, be kind, and your light will remain, sweetling. Just donât let them in.â Their voice changes a bit, sharpens focus, an accent slips into it. âThey can touch you, but they canât keep you, dear. Remember that. You keep you.â
----âThey hurt.â Efah murmurs, and clutches to robes for comfort. She tries hiding Emet more like a child than adult, whimpering.
âI donât want to hurt anymore. Itâs scary. Iâm scared. Can I stay near you?â
Because here feels safer than exposed, especially right now.
Oh, she likes this one, leaning into the touch comfortably before blinking.
âMeracydia, Master.â Efah responds patiently. âI belong to my masters.â
The Ascians right? Thats what the infernal burning brand is saying, but she dares not rub or scratch it. No, sheâs not going to show weakness, instead remaining leaned into touch.
âMeracydia,â they repeat. âOh, dragons and trees, ages and ages past. The Sourceâs child, you are.â They smile. âNo, no, sweet girl. To whom do you belong? The Celebrant? Or the Emissary?âÂ
A finger moves to trace the mark on the girlâs cheek. âWhich master is yours, you canât be all of ours. Thirteen masters is too many for one. Would shatter you like Mother and Father.â They laugh, a childâs giggle. âThough we are not thirteen now, are we? We are eight and one. All falling, one by one, the sourceâs lightsâŚâ They pat her again and step back.Â
âWill you fall, too? Or stand tall like your trees?â
onât kn but follows the Ascian contentedly. This one is okay. She likes her. Him. Them? Whichever.
âI do not know. I think - I already fell.â
Because she has been altered by ascians, or so it feels. Tampered with, and everything starts to feel confusing, the girlsitting to rub her face. Her mind is swimming, and then sheâs nervous, moving near to hide.
âMmmnnn... I donât want to get gotten.â
âHello.â Efah responded. The Miqoâte was catious of the Ascian, creeping near but not too near, blinking as she watched.
âWhere did you come from Master?â
Mistress? Who knew. The title came unbidden - likely due her brand - and the Warrior watched, curious.
âOh, hello,â the Ascian smiles vacantly, reaching out to pat the girlâs head. âTwo from two,â they say in response. âAnd hmmâŚwhat are you?â The hand remains upon dark hair, and their head tilts. âBlue and purple all mixed together, like two streams pouring into one lake. Poor sweet girl.âÂ
They cluck. âWho do you belong to, little sweet girl?â They ask. âWhat slice of home do you call your own?â
Oh, she likes this one, leaning into the touch comfortably before blinking.
âMeracydia, Master.â Efah responds patiently. âI belong to my masters.â
The Ascians right? Thats what the infernal burning brand is saying, but she dares not rub or scratch it. No, sheâs not going to show weakness, instead remaining leaned into touch.
âSo many guests.â Their voice is dreamy, a young womanâs voice made slightly altered by the one within, eye hidden by their mask. âFriendly faces in red, souls in blue and purple. Hello. Have you come to say hello or goodbye?â
âHello.â Efah responded. The Miqoâte was catious of the Ascian, creeping near but not too near, blinking as she watched.
âWhere did you come from Master?â
Mistress? Who knew. The title came unbidden - likely due her brand - and the Warrior watched, curious.

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What is Efah doing? Efahâs curling up in a blanket with her eyes shut to fight off a sickness. Alone.
Not entirely alone. Lahabrea is no nursemaid, let alone for a sick kitten, but this one is one that cannot be lost right now. Heâs ensuring she has water while watching the strange little being for other developments.
Occasionally, she coughs - body shuddering with each one, and her ears pin in her sleep, the female shivering. Her chest hurts, preventing any hope of restful sleep, and the kitten paws at air, mewling.
What is Efah doing? Efahâs curling up in a blanket with her eyes shut to fight off a sickness. Alone.
The kitten giggled and pushed back the hood of his robe, revealing a simple mask that covered his face, concealing his features. Brown ears, however, were easily seen and constantly twitching this way and that as he stretched and whispered to Efah, "Safe now. Safe inna dark!"
âIf only it was as safe as it looked.â Efah sighed, rubbing his ear. She didnât know what this mask meant - why he was like this, but her ears drooped and she simply began to apply ear rubs fondly. âIf only.â

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The kitten's answer to Efah's question was to shrug and tuck himself firmly under her chin, purring loudly and reaching up to try and rub at her ears. He didn't seem to have anything else to say on the matter, and was simply happy to be in her arms.
Efah sighed, closing her eyes to curl defensively. Why was he in Ascian robes? Why was he here?
Efah didnât whine, but her purring was anxious, and she nuzzled him, worrying.
A tiny miqo'te kitten in vastly oversized ascian robes waddles up to Efah, only to trip over them and fall flat on his face with a startled meow.
Efah blinked, and scooped the kitten up, tucking him unde her chin defensively with a perplexed mrewl, clinging.
âLittle brother? What are you doing here?!â