the shift

“Sure, the good chains,” Juneau muttered under her breath. “Do you often spend a lot of time worrying that you’ll be confused with a Kossith?” she asked. Of course he didn’t, but it was easier to dance around the truths of what had occurred in the last handful of months. Others carried wounds home with them, but Juneau came back more complete. She wasn’t about to ask for pity or lick wounds. It wasn’t the first time life had been unyieldingly cruel to her, but it was the first time she’d come out truly on top. “Oh, did you?” Juneau asked, pretending to study her nails. She was not good at feelings, even if they no longer made her feel like dry heaving as a result of the darkness that had been purged from her veins. “Would it really be the worst thing if you made enough of an impression that I thought of you for a fraction of a second before Fate dashed me from the Wheel?” She suspected neither of them were sentimental people, thus it was the closest she could get to acknowledging that he had been some sort of a positive presence in her life even if she doubted he did so out of genuine altruism. “Lost your little accessory, though,” she mumbled, holding up a notably ring-less hand. 

"Being big and brawny and strong? No, not at all. I'm perfectly happy with my barely existent waist and the good kinds of chains. Not at all like the Kossith, so no worries there." Zagreus watched Juneau for a moment, her flippant comments and the way her nails were suddenly just so interesting. It was difficult for the genasi to make any sort of connection – he wasn't one to feel for others; parts of him were killed off in the mountains of Iskaldrik. His empathy, any sort of hope, but still – there was a twinge for a moment, as he thought about Juneau thinking of him in her moments before death. The ring was a curious effect – and if he knew Juneau, it was most likely gone for good. "Unfortunate. Could've really told us a little something about that magic." The genasi didn't think too much of it for now, instead more curious about what she experienced. "Well – I'm desperate now. Tell me what happened."

Person: @zagreusx Location: It's Hestia's Cove fam "Well it pleases me to know that during even the most trying of times, you stay pretty." Lirien actually prefers the cove to most places on account of it's easy to get a gig. A little flirting, a little lute strumming, and he has a six thirty sharp appointment. Zagreus's parties have been a such appointments in the past, less so with everything with what's plagued the cove the last year, but the man remained just as electric as ever. Lirien thought it was the eyes, there was just something about them. "I have perhaps the worst proposition for you possible."

"Would I ever let my biggest fans down? Of course not." Zagreus gave a wry smile, though he wasn't going to tell Lirien how much to miss him. It was painfully obvious that his presence was always missed, and that was enough for the genasi to make sure he gave everyone just a little bit of extra here and there. "The worst? Let's hear it, then. I've heard some bad ones, you know."

Wandered off to - as if she had ended up in the custody of the Kossith as a result of her own morbid curiosity, as if she was to blame for following her whim onto the wrong boat. It was such a ridiculous assertion she couldn’t help but give a crooked smile. “Zagreus, that comment is offensive to horned bastards everywhere,” Juneau responded. “The Kossith are much worse than that. I’ve taken a peek into those parties of yours before though–plenty of chains there.” Her nose wrinkled. “You probably would have chalked it up to a pleasure cruise.” Nothing about it had been pleasant for Juneau, but she wouldn’t pretend not to have gotten out of it in a much better condition than others. The wily blonde kept her arms folded tightly against her sides–she would choose the right moment to reveal to him that the demonic little accessory she’d gained under his tutelage was gone. “What did you do the entire time? Sit around here getting your grapes plucked while playing with pretend fetters?” 

"Yes, but the good chains. You can't confuse me with the Kossith." To restrain magic and use it for their own whims – well, that was something that all feared after the Kossith had come to Hestia's Cove and then promptly left. It seemed like they'd been doing everyone a favor, carting off a necromancer. Still, they'd slipped away, and he idly wondered if his distant nephew was seen on one of those ships or within Aventia, or if he'd met his untimely death. Still, Zagreus took a moment to take her in. "I got word of you, through a very...unusual source of magic. Sounded strangely like the words of a dying woman."

who: @zagreusx where: Hestia's Cove when: a little over a week after the captured friends make it back home notes: :' )

The Veridian had been somewhat of a heathen as of late. Endless parties, endless raves where more and more lost themselves. Wine and money, it flowed endlessly through the genasi's estate, and while he only ventured within sometimes, made a token appearance now and then, he was moreso at the whim of the Dark One and the powers that had harassed Hestia's Cove for so long. Still, Zagreus found himself wandering the streets when the markets were out, taking Marigold for a stroll.

starter for @zagreusx.

“Oh, no, you just have that effect on me is all,” Juneau said, waving the thought away as if she had not bent his breezy jab into one of her own. Juneau wasn’t terribly interested in finery that was consumable, she preferred more material, most lasthing things. She nodded. “Like it would throw me from the cliff and into the water if I resisted or did something wrong,” she elaborated, wondering if that even made sense. But she did quietly appreciate he didn’t chalk it up to a fugue state or a nightmare. As if she could intuit Zagreus’ thought pattern, she shifted her hand that housed the ring behind her back, though it was glamoured to look as plain and common as any other thing she would risk a pickpocket lifting off of her person in the busy streets. “Every second.” She used the back of the hand he pushed away to swat harmlessly at his arm. “I have a certain charm about me, I'm told. Oh… how was it phrased again? Oh! Off putting and boorish. It’s a real boon for getting laid. The fuck does it matter to you?”

"I think everyone has that effect on you. Your face might just be stuck that way." Zagreus grinned at the barb, though it was an easy transition to all things of the dark. It didn't bother him, but it did pique his interest. Juneau's form threatening her with death, some sort of pushback against her attempt at control? Harmony and inner peace, all that stuff he figured she'd gotten a grip on, it would take time to master. "Off putting and boorish? And your sparkling personality doesn't do anything for you?" He stopped at the door of a building that looked mildly nondescript, but it wasn't difficult to hear the sounds of a party within. His type of party, most likely not Juneau's, "It matters because it's not dry season, Juney, like you make it out to be. But also this party is for adults only. That kind of thing."

The continuation of his teasing about her not being over the moon (pun intended) to strip naked in front of him and shift into her vuldak form was not lost on Juneau. It was not appreciated either, which was made plain by the sour expression she sported for a beat. She failed to produce a comeback worth verbalizing, and the conversation took a turn anyway. For a moment, she considered simply lying to him or making something up instead of answering his question in earnest, but given he already knew the truth of what she was and that he hadn’t left her for dead on that mountain trail when it would have been much easier for him to do so, she opted for the truth. “I shifted without meaning to, and I couldn’t shift back, or control myself,” she told him quietly. “And my body carried me way up in the mountains outside the cove and just stood there on the ledge, all night. It was just me, but I had no control. It was like a threat.” It was obvious the experience had frightened her. 

"You look like you've tasted a sour grape. I can tell you I have none of those at my winery." Zagreus looked back at Juneau, but the genasi looked unbothered, mostly amused. As he always did. It was hard to knock him off his good mood. "A threat?" He echoed her choice of words, though he wasn't going to elaborate for fear of leading to an answer he wanted to hear. Something told him it had to do with the dark ring on her finger, the one she'd placed upon her hand from Amelia. "And you remember it all?" He pushed her fist away, limp wrist and all. "Do you get laid often, Juneau? Or not enough?"

"Adrian. He's trying the Tower thing oot, I'm...." Incredulous that he was actually still with someone who would consider such a thing. But the witch had weaseled his way past Jamie's many hang ups when it came to people and now frankly, he knew too much. Which was his own way of coming to terms with the fact that Jamie actually....Had feelings for someone. "Adjusting, ye could say. He's aff on all these adventures now, I could use a few tae keep up." And he's loyal for as emotionally stunted as he was, if Zagreus had something for him to do, he'd do it. What was friendship if not proclaiming you would create a fake funeral? And the fact that when Zagreus did eventually pass, Jamie would make sure he was buried face down so the world could kiss his ass one last time.

"Trying it out?" He echoed, though he was already imagining Jamie's boy toy in those robes. Now he understood. "Right, of course. You need an adventure. I'm sure you'll find one soon. There are plenty of things to get into around here." The genasi knew it as such, but he wasn't going to get into too many details. "Stay a while, yeah? I'm sure your witch won't be getting any visiting hours this late in the night. I hear they're sticklers for rules."

who?: @zagreusx where?: the vip tent/lounge, where the fancy people are when?: progress day, idk which day pick one hehe

"And it's you, the one who requires a bit of fealty everywhere he goes." Zagreus had no qualms about who surrounded him, able to be the life of the party anywhere he went. It seemed unspoken, most of the people vacated the table around them when Lukene's inspiring presence was above them. Still, the genasi put his wine down on the table as the other pocketed a gold goblet, and he had to laugh, "Please. I have more of those at home. Don't be poor." He was mostly joking, but for now, he motioned to the now empty seat beside him. "Are you better company? Or is this the new beggar's seat?"

He watched and waited, ever the silent wanderer. The name chosen for him was a moniker he wore with pride and lived up to with every breath. Patient, proud, vicious; these were the traits that stuck to his mind as scales began to form on his skin beneath the surface of the ground. He was monstrous when he shifted, and this form would be serpentine in some way to reflect his mood. He'd break out and show the other genasi whose will was stronger. At least, that was the plan. Vidarr's eyes glowed and then became snake-like at the moment he was going to strike, but with a blink they returned to normal once he realized the ground was gripping him. It was enough to curb his aggression slightly

"What if I told you the greatest beast stands before you?" Zagreus turned to look over his shoulder, giving an exaggerated bow in front of the other. "You're a Dúnedain of the Wild, are you not? But let me guess..." he trailed off, turning away now as he continued to lead the other, "A genasi all the same. No wonder you're interested. Lord Soth was defeated, his dead dragon is dead once more, the beast is put to rest. And while I understand, partially, I can't agree." Zagreus waited now as he got to the doorway of his home, the walls and rooms inside moving to open the pathway for the two of them. "Cowered?" He repeated the word with a grin, and while he could tell that this man easily overshadowed many many people when he entered the room, perhaps Zagreus was a bit too easygoing to be intimidated that quickly. "I don't think a dead thing can cower. Do you?"