Oderint Dum Metuant

Greetings from Emperor Belos of the Boiling Isles, the greatest witch of his time.

The Owl House spoilers ahead.

Might mess around and start a cult coven.

He’s not a big fan of the wild magic that destroyed his family. Nor any magic at all. In fact, he’s spent the last three hundred or so years attempting to eradicate it altogether. He’s yet to make a judgement on the magic or technology here, though he’s markedly suspicious of it given that it brought him to this wretched place.

While his curse is controlled by the island, if you look like a small, magical animal, perhaps carved from the wood of a rare tree, he may, on impulse, try to crack you like a cold one.

He might just be an old man with tired, gentle eyes but he can and will still kick your shit in.

Very tech-savvy - wields an artificial magic staff of his own design.

He can be cruel and demanding, though, in his eyes, just and fair. He’s extremely goal driven, and is not above lies and manipulations to get his way.

he’s… annoyed at them? rude! they should be annoyed at him!

they squint at him briefly, then turn their head away. hmph.

[not if you’re gonna grab me again.]

this guy’s energy is terrible. he’s either an all-around jerk or having the grumpiest day of his life. if they weren’t in full control of their powers, they’d reconsider staying… but there’s no reason to actually fear this guy for now, and maybe they can figure out his deal.

Belos recoils slightly, taking aback that the creature is able to speak. He knew palismen had their funny little language, but did not recall ever being able to understand it. Still too distracted to even consider any alternate possibilities, he inches closer to it.

       PERHAPS HE HAD SAID SOMETHING WRONG; misplaced his words as he so often does. bracing for the worst, he’s somewhat surprised when the emperor appears to dismiss the subject entirely, and press on beyond the ruins. he commands the boy to follow, and like the loyal soldier he is and hopes to remain, the golden guard pulls up his hood, and replaces the mask over his face.

               “  yes, emperor belos.  ” he acquiesces, joining the other by his side without hesitation, nor question.

       with that, they resume tread through the woods. hunter’s eyes wander to and fro, scanning for any sign of movement in the fog. they’ve come to a dangerous place, and in lieu of their magic, it’s wise to keep their wits about them.

               “  … the broken circles are vast; i’ve yet to come across anything intact, nor find anything of value.  ” he hesitates to lend his knowledge to the silence, but… maybe his uncle will appreciate it, “  i’ve also read about something known as the lifewell. it’s said that bathing in its waters will heal even fatal injuries. it’s… never in the same place twice, though.  ”

       he returns to the mistwood periodically to search for it but… thus far, his endeavours to do so have yielded no such success.

There was something reassuring about the Golden Guard donning his garb and falling into step beside him. It spoke of the diligence that Belos had hoped was deeply instilled within the boy, and it was reassuring in a way that reminded him of a time where he felt more secure in his grasp over the land.

Of course Hunter had read about much of the land here. His desire to prove himself useful meant he applied himself more than the majority of the witches that made up his coven. A double edged sword, of course, as it steered the boy towards information he would prefer he did not engage with. Belos could not deny it made him a formidable force within the Emperor's Coven, though.

“I see. It doesn’t sound odd to me; there are many mages here in Spirale, of different magicks and origins. Not all mana comes from the earth.”

Actually, it was fascinating to learn in his free time.

“I’ve yet to find a place without conflict. It’s within the nature of Man to fight.”

Unfortunately.

“There were the typical ones. Conquest, wealth, power, et cetera. Where it differed were the constant hatred between humans, elves, and the half-elves that came of those unions. The latter were shunned by both, and belonged nowhere. And the humans, fearing what they didn’t understand, treated all of them as enemies.” … “As time went on, it became less severe. Hopefully, the current generation won’t have to live through what I’ve seen. But that isn’t anything I can help with now, clearly.”

…

“I’m thankful that people here on the island seem to be much more accepting of each other.”

"From what I have observed, I would say that rings true. It takes a practiced, steady hand to quell conflict, and even in the most peaceful of nations does it rear its wretched head," Belos remarks. "I am sorry to hear that you have endured such toils yourself."

Though unfamiliar with the sorts of elves the stranger described, the mention of unfavorable unions sent an unpleasant chill down Belos' spine. Unfavorable memories attempted to resurface, his gaze downcast and his jaw set as he tried to focus on the rest of what the man beside him had to say. 

It took a few breaths to steady himself back into a more pleasant and curious demeanor. Given how unfavorable and tense most of his interactions had been, it was a rare breath of fresh air to simply talk to another individual here.

Tempting through it was to cut the human off at the quick, even the Collector was not completely immune to that sickly sweet tone Phillip so favored when coercion served key to his success. So– while far from unfamiliar with the ease with which the emperor weaponized such wiles– the Collector still managed to think themself above that degree of manipulation. Phillip was his friend, after all! Everything he’d done thus far was as much in service to them as it was himself. Then…if Phillip was assured this was in their best interest…maybe it was worth listening.

Besides…he did have a point. The way the Stars had delivered the Collector– a powerless shadow– it was a degree of strength with which they had rarely had the opportunity to contend. Only a titan was on par with that sort of might…! Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all…maybe it would be fun.

“Terrifying? Pbbhhhttt,” The Collector blew a raspberry that echoed through the empty hall as their form pooled down like liquid at the foot of the altar. “What do you know about them?” Unbridled curiosity leaked into this facetious remark as the Collector began to slide forward towards Philip along the ground– until their shadowy form collected beneath him in the likeness of a waxing moon orbited by stars, all spinning in a vaguely disorienting way. In this fashion their voice came from all around Phillip, encapsulating him.

“Are you scared of them?”

"Scared? Of course not," Philip states simply, keeping his lies level and unbothered as he watches the flashing display at his feet. "But I know better than to underestimate them. Beings that wield that kind of power on such a whimsy are to be avoided as much as possible. Especially when they have cut us off from nearly all magic."

As bored as Philip's expression made him seem, it was far from a true reflection of his emotional state. He was exhausted, and deeply terrified of the beings that landed him here. Of course, he would never convey his weakness, and he was well-practiced at ignoring that which most unsettled him.

Philip was getting irked by the Collector's inquisitiveness, a reminder that despite their tendency towards play they still maintained an innate, ancient wisdom. He would have to act within a framework that would register properly with the Collector if he wanted to steer them on a course that suited him.

"In such a world, I do think it's best to stick to those you know you could trust," he lectures. "I've done nothing but fend for myself here. Enemies lurk around every corner."

“Ahh. You gotta do what you gotta do,” Barry says. He doesn’t know quite what made it necessary for Philip, but transforming the self for the circumstance is not unfamiliar to him. “Nice to meet you, Philip. You hailing from somewhere less friendly to humans?”

“Partly. Necromancy is a school of magic dealing with life and death- bringing the dead back, or prolonging a life, or general manipulations of life energy. Some people do actively shitty things and give the profession a bad name. I make a point not to.”

One can do far scarier things without ever dipping into necromancy, but of course the presence of corpses puts everyone off. Barry raises his eyebrows at the next part – it’s not all that often he meets anyone familiar with planar travel.

“Realms? Those could be what I call planes. If you’re a human from a magical world, it’s probably in a Prime Material Plane…” He pulls out his wand and waves it, conjuring a projection of a dull violet disc, floating in the air and lazily spinning. “So that would contain your planet, suns, stars, really anywhere you could think to go within regular three-dimensional space. But all of that’s just one part of the planar system,” he continues, and eleven more discs appear in as many colors - one is pale and translucent, overlaid with the first disc, and the rest orbit around them. “There’s a few different ways to travel from one to another. Do you know how it’s done where you’re from? And where people went to?”

"Yes, quite hostile to humans," Philip replies forlornly, eyes cast in a saddened expression to garner a smidgen of pity from Barry.

"Ah... we did not have a name for that sort of magic. You're right, so many would misuse it. To mess with the natural cycle without understanding it deeply - well, that is nothing short of blasphemy, is it not?" Philip shakes his head. "But that does not mean it cannot be wielded with reason, and I sense that you are one who understands this well."

As Barry set the room alight with his projection, Philip's eyes light up with the spark of one who had dedicated many years to research and study of the natural world. He observes the conjuration of discs, head tilted as he listens to the explanation.

"This is fascinating. Such a complicated structure. I imagine mapping that would be a lifetime of work!” Philip praises. “I am unsure if there are more realms connected to the one I am from. Frankly, I am weary of being away from home, and would have preferred to stay put for a while upon my return. Yet somehow I ended up here, so I suppose my travels are far from over.”

distracted as they are by their pouting, they don’t notice the sudden shift in the man’s demeanor as they reveal themselves to him. as a result, he manages to catch them firmly in his grasp!

… to which they immediately teleport two feet to the left.

that kinda hurt. what’s this guy’s problem? they have half a mind to start shaking him around like a rattle if he’s gonna start getting grabby.

He’d almost had it!

“’s normal for this twenty first century child.” 

“...Right. Of course it is.”

“Phillip!” Unceremonious was the interruption to call attention to the entity which had (evidently) appeared out of thin air next to the man, their legs folded a clean three inches above the ‘rat fur’ upholstery of the bus bench.

“We’re going there, right? You saaaaiiiid you’d take me. So are we going? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗˀ ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗ … … … ”

Philip lets out an incredibly long, exhausted sigh. How quickly he forgets his promises.

[ooc]  Since I've bumped his canon point, I'm happy to take on a handful of new starters! Tentatively uncapped for now but I may be selective. Some notes!

Liking this post gives me permission to DM you. I may just write a starter, but I just wanna be upfront about this possibility! Feel free to message me directly if you have any ideas, too, I enjoy plotting!

I am happy to throw another starter at you even if we have an in-progress thread! I will still be continuing those.

I’ll try to do as many starters as I can but just a heads up that life’s been a little hectic for me as of late.

Current wishlist:

It was quiet, at least, save for the monotonous rumble of the mostly-empty bus. He gazed out the window, watching the tall buildings and many shops go by with mild disinterest.

The remarks are ignored. True as they are, this was an attempt to not be about himself for once. He would admit to a bit of projecting, though. That was more of a constant problem, and he would try to be better about it over time. Belos was clearly angry about the Nightmare Knight’s view of the narrative and how he was viewed. Fair, all in all, even inspiring Belos to admit some things the Nightmare Knight had not gathered from any of the Demon Realm prisoners yet.

Belos, too, came from a world just past the Demon Realm, and where the realms met he had lost something important. His tyranny and empire were simply tools of revenge.

“A home is what you will have, in time.” Nightmare Knight stood up from the bench, folding his arms behind his back to assume a straight and powerful posture. “Now, up until this point I have only spoken in broad ideals. This will not be an easy process, and you will need some structure. Therefore, here is what I will provide to you on your journey. You cannot die in this prison, not permanently, but I can provide protection against death. When and where I can intervene, you will be pulled away from whatever situation that could prove fatal. To prove that I am truthful, I will provide you a token of my good will. This will spirit you away to my castle, the one floating far above the city.”

A crystal stone appears in his hand, clear on the outside, but when viewed showed the insides of a geode. “It will work as such once per day. That would give you enough time to rest and recuperate. I will, however, not protect you against some physical retaliation you may experience. That is what we call ‘building character’. Equally as such, I will not protect you from verbal attacks. Admittance and acceptance is part of the healing process. Those you have hurt deserve that much, yes?”

“Past all of that, my resources are yours. I will work to answer your questions to the best of my infinite ability.”

It had been ages since the emperor was challenged in any form, and even longer since he was put on the spot in such a manner. Uncomfortable to the point it made his skin crawl, he tenuously endured the criticism, taking great effort to bite his tongue at the Knight's remarks. He was always good at putting on a show, though.

A lack of permanent death... The concept of purgatory was not one his home community had believed in, but it was the best descriptor he had for this place at the moment. Pain here was very real and very unpleasant. He already had enough brushes with it.

Ah, but this entire interaction was not unlike crafting a deal with a devil. A terrifying, otherworldly, horned entity that seemed to offer something too good to be true? Good thing he already had plenty of experience swindling demons, as the direction the conversation headed almost seemed absurd. What would a demonic, for lack of a better classification, entity, know about pain, betrayal, ideals, healing?

He could not help but ‘tch’ softly at the Knight’s ramble on the matter, audible despite his best attempts at self-control.

What could a supposedly almighty being know of doing the utmost when one had to claw their way towards even a little power just to protect someone else? The suffering I endured for the sake of the greater good, for my home, my family, my bro-!

He interrupted the thought before he could spiral, collecting himself as the Nightmare Knight held out the item. Carefully, he took the geode-like crystal in hands, captivated by the way the light filtering through the trees struck it. There was something oddly reassuring about its presence.