LANFEAR | The Wheel Of Time - 2.06

THE WHEEL OF TIME ↳ Season 2 ↳ Episode Eight | What Was Meant To Be

"Thank you," she muttered with a rather coy smirk toying at blood-red lips, "I thought to myself, what kind of aesthetic would Enf find agreeable and here we are." The noted sarcasm in her voice was about as telling as how desperately she aspired to gain his approval. Nevertheless, Pythia had always favored Enfenim and his brother. Those that needed nothing from her - nor the book, and still enjoyed the taste of chaos all the same. "You know I'd never deign myself so low as to concede to such a mortal concept." She rolled her eyes, predictably so, "Although, Arak tells me that the dismal hour of your arrival can once again be chalked up to your inability to surpass the opportunity to speak. Perhaps we should offer our vows below your lynched and skinned corpse," the smile she offers is sickly sweet, a taunting venture that she'd not let slip to threat as she pinpoints a rather sharp point upon the arch, "right there, just for you, darling. Make a night of it."

@fxllenpythia location: home sweet home notes: kiss kiss bang bang “Nice place you have here.” Necromanteion had grown beyond any measure it had held before, tenfold. The infernal book grew in power with every passing moment, the more it devoured, the more it hungered. Enfenim had aligned himself with the sprawling city of New Dis, the great forces that amassed within suited him best, but he had not signed his name in the book. Necromancers all covered power over resurrection, bringing people back from the grave had never interested him. “Where should the wedding be-“ he smiled as he gestured towards one of the arches. “This looks like a suitable place for a set of vows.”

“Then do it.” It’s spoken as if she’d drawn it directly from the void within her. It’s empty and holds nothing but callous intent. She would watch him burn for all he’d condemned them to; whether by choice or blind loyalty. Once a revered general among divine armies, Leviathan existed upon the purity of orders. Of war and all that it stood for. Winning conquest was to be rewarded - and ultimately, peace was all she’d wanted. That, and all that was promised to her - to them. All that she’d fought for, stripped from the offering and once again, they were asked to kneel. Did he so easily forget who she’d been? What she’d been without the blood and death? This was not all she was; but it was what they’d forced her to become. “No, you can’t change the past, and nor can I simply forgive and forget.” And now she existed purely out of spite. “ I will never forgive you.” For all that could be said about her - cold, callous and heartless. The spire that each empty emotion was carved from, Leviathan could be all and more but one did not linger so violently in a world that sought to tear her down without first finding a level of care and determination that solidified her desire to accomplish what was necessary. She would not grieve for those given this realm without first understanding how precious it had been; but for all those who fell - who fought to hold and cherish this world, she had never once stopped mourning. She felt that ache with every moment that passed. Hues narrowed at the incessant audacity he had to even attempt such an approach, and meager footsteps drew her closer as she took in the sight of someone she once admired and revered above all, finding no sense of familiarity anymore “ -- You are no brother of mine.”

fxllenpythia​:

“Then I sincerely hope it plagues you. Night and day.” For fault, in her mind, did not lie with she - nor those who had fallen. Rather with their father and all those who sought to use force against them to begin with. “I hope everything you have, falls to the same inferno that you damned us to.” And truly, she would like to see noone suffer more than Michael himself. Perhaps an eternity before, such a confrontation would prickle emotion hot enough for tears to spring to life, for something to catch in her throat, but long gone were her reservations about how she might feel coming face to face with them once more. “I do, because nobody else is willing to.” Willing to fight for what was rightfully theirs - to carve their own fathers betrayal into the flesh of the world poisoned because he saw greater perfection in creatures no more worthy than the dirt they walked upon. “Everything I have suffered - we have suffered, is because of this realm. These people. These creatures that would have Ulthar turn from us. Betray us so fervently. Do not stand there and accuse me of being a puppet when all you have ever done, is bend to the will of another. When was the last time you considered how this realm, and all others, would be if you hadn’t bent the knee in blind faith to one who would never offer you the same loyalty?”

-

“If it would turn you from this course, I’d walk into the fire myself.” Leviathan had destroyed themself for this goal, Sathanas, Astaroth, Leviathan - the list of the damned generals went on. Michael had torn the grace from even more, had returned countless to the cosmosand in that action he’d called himself righteous. His sibling levelled their anger upon him and was justified in doing so, so much pain for one decision, for refusal that their divine father had taken as a slight. The army that had won so much for him had lost its use if they were not willing to serve in complete, blind obedience. “I cannot change the past, Leviathan.” Michael wouldn’t dwell on what could have been or what should have been, all that could be done was to press forward. He’d once begged his father to let him descend upon this realm so that he could cut down the fallen, and if there remained no other course: he would do exactly that. “I’m asking you,” sincerity rang in Michael’s eyes, “as your brother: don’t do this. Walk away.” 

"Get me Augustus' body." It's said without much thought, but neither do her plans grow too bold just yet. With her numbers dwindled - even with the souls of those beyond Rome, Pythia wouldn't strike again without having everything in check - not for the likes of being blinded once more. "Dead or alive." Undoubtedly, the archfiend held some sentimentality towards the former necromancer, but waste not want not. The ties he held were worth splintering in the same ways the Asphodel had been, "And find out where Lucrecia is hiding, I'm not nearly done with her." By choice, or otherwise; Leviathan was the very embodiment of violence; and her wrath would befall all of those who no longer served her purpose. "Kill whoever you have to."

Bastien's birth had only been for the power that his parents could garner, to create a coven where one had not been. He had been taught nothing aside from what he could do for his parents. That is, until Pythia had begun to whisper in his ear. Of the power that he could harness for himself, of the magic that lay dormant within him. It was the greater demon that had guided him to the forest, to the animals within and the visions that he could pull from the hands of the Graeae. And it was since then that his loyalty had been cemented, given over freely and without fault. Even when he had been imprisoned, when he'd been left with nothing but his visions. Even when others had fallen, had felt fear and fled from the ranks of the Asphodel. And even now, as his mind fractured, as a part of it weighed so heavily upon a certain elf, Bastien had remained with Pythia. "Ask of me anything that you wish, it will be yours freely," he affirmed, cementing his loyalty that much further to their cause. To the power that would be Pythia's, and subsequently, his own once a new book had been crafted. Once they had finalized what they had long since been working towards.

@arakhor

"It is done," those upon the summit had played their part, the first piece of all they needed falling into place as she felt the legions of followers and their power run through her, "For now." The assault from above would continue while two of her most trusted missives worked from below; soon the seals would be broken. "I trust you and your brother have filled the cages, what now, can I give you my love?" All those who offered their soul - their power to Python were given that which they desired, even if it was deemed costly, but for the exiled elandrin, she herself would suffer the cost should she need to. "Do you wish to join the Drow in their siege of the forest?"

@bleedingwings​ location: the embassy

The shifting atmosphere within the building as she entered told her that there were enough people within that noticed something different. Whether they were attune enough to process the thought or simply felt the quiet tickle in the back of their throat as they cast hues across the crowd. It mattered little. She was only here for one. Gone were Pythia’s reasons for remaining undetected; passing beneath the inbuilt radar that their brethren were both blessed and cursed with. The coven of Asphodel had announced themselves - brilliantly. And now, Pythia needed to seek out those that would serve in the restructure of Rome and the mortal realm.  The glass poured out before the blonde vessel Sariel had chosen, the brunette slips by, plucking it from the bar top and draining it dry. “A little heavy on the vermouth,” she feels every ounce of fallen that emanates between them. A stark difference to the sickening glow carried by those blessed; the fluorescents of this world only plucked the same strings of an ache within her skull as their prophetic siblings did. “You’re not nearly difficult enough to find anymore, Riel.”

open to: asphodel coven members @senatusstarters​ location: asphodel house

“We won’t be able to hide from them for much longer.” Nor, in her mind, did she believe they should. Given she’d announced their location, invited them to their front door, that still didn’t give rise to the identities of her accomplices. A fickle detail. Alas, the brevity of human life itself undoubtedly increased their need for self preservation, their devotion one of the many threads that kept her here. The moonlight that shone brightly upon the terrace warmed her like sunlight; the depth of night itself enough to bring a near maniacal laugh to her lips. “They’ll try to infiltrate, pick us apart one by one,” a tactful approach that would only parallel all previous attempts to destroy the Asphodel for good; if only they were so attune to the Methodist act of devotion and the level of depravity the coven itself represented.  Still giddy with the meager city wide retribution that had come to pass some months prior, Pythia balanced precarious upon the tiptoes of her latest vessel, turning the page of the Necronomicon as the blood sacrifice of their newest took hold. The blessed wouldn’t be far behind. “They’ve gone far too quite far too quickly, don’t you think?” Enough to whet her appetite just barely.

open to all @senatusstarters

Trinkets. Mere trinkets. The display case of items on offer for the dark arts and blood magic did nothing more than belittle the craft that the most prominent component of her existence revolved around. A dull blade. A crows skull. Undoubtedly, the human behind the counter held onto the idea of a lucky rabbit’s foot or the eye of newt. Lifeless shards of crystal craven beneath her fingertips as she browses mindlessly. “it’s any wonder they make any money here.” Tourism and the naivety of humans however, had proven relentless over and over again. “This is just sea glass,” delicate fingertips scoop up the blue green, jagged rock - smooth edges gone; clearly damaged. “The only thing it’ll bring you is a mouthful of seawater.”

Practical Magic (1998)

augustcavaliere​:

It was true that the further he sank, the more powerful he became, the more twisted the necromancer’s mind ended up being. The siren’s call of the dark arts had beckoned him for an age, each reincarnation under Thetis’ curse had brought him to this. In this life Eren had broken the spell but that it would be too late might as well have always been the druidic mother’s intention. Because for all the lives that August and Eren had lived together, the two of them had never been further apart, now they stood on opposite sides of the coming battle with an obvious end in sight. “Good,” the smirk that followed came across as unnatural, like a snake lifting its lips to try and grin, “I’m looking forward to it.” The drow. Annoying creatures but obviously necessary, the necromancer would have preferred to toil in his lab but if Pythia had a directive for him then he would see it through to completion. “Consider it done.” 

Obedient to a fault, August had never slipped in his plight to serve both her and the Necronomicon, and he’d serve the same punishment as all others. The prospect of losing a loved one, for good, was one she knew well. Eons had passed since the war of the Gods. To see her brethren struck down even then had been a blow - but what followed, in seeing them tear each other down, had left marks unseen upon Leviathan. “How did Eren take it?” One of the many she knew that adored the man, yet still sought to damn him for the life he wanted when the truth came to light. “I shouldn’t need to apologize for the cost we must pay for our plight” She sighs,” the cost of joining me alone drives away those that cannot handle all to come, but were I given the option, I’d have you know that with enough power, all things can be reversed. It’s merely a matter of how long you can be without until a suitable fix is found.”