It's Nearly Impossible To Look Beyond The Irony In What Pluto Claims. This, Temporary Essence He Seems

augustcavaliere​:

“No, no we won’t.” The senate would establish order in the city once more, their enemies would align, and then they would come for the coven. The Asphodel had invited them here and whether the senate knew it or not, they’d play right into their hands. “But, who’s hiding?” August asked rhetorically as he fixed his gaze upon the Pythia with equal parts awe and amazement, “I leave tomorrow to perform my final rite, effective immortality, my final pledge to the necronomicon.” The cost was substantial, so many lives would go noticed at a time like this, August had no choice but to perform it elsewhere away from the prying eyes of the senate and the marshals who would stand to intervene.

August had stood proudly at the Pythia’s side along with the Egotist and Lucretia when the Asphodel had proclaimed themselves responsible for the massacre at Halloween and devotedly sided with the architect who’d bring about the destruction of the status quo. Good. The witch had come to Rome to seek vengeance for his disappeared father, but in Erik’s absence he found only dead whispers and broken promises - Pythia had found him as a broken ruined thing and together they’d reunited the shattered necronomicon alongside the others.

There was no act that the witch would not throw himself into on the Pythia’s behalf, where there were some who may have doubted their supremacy August had always known the power behind the figure. From childhood’s hour Python had guided his hand, his blade, his magic, when he was cornered it was blood that had set him free. “The blessed… Their presence.” August had felt their arrival within the city, it was unmistakable. “How can we destroy them?” They had undoubtedly come here to put an end to their plans, to put an end to the Pythia, something August would never allow.

Still, the wickedness in her smile grew. Dripping with venom with the premise of a tantalizing sweetness as movements of a dancer drew her nearer the witch. Undoubtedly, she knew that none of them were so willing to hide any longer. The rise of the Asphodel was monumental; bringing about a world in those she sought after would no longer be forced to remain hidden. A world unto chaos. “Luckily, they’re fools and won’t notice their mistake until they’re already within our grasp.” Fickle, the minds of protectors - too busy with the offence to consider proper defensive strategy. It was, after all, how all else had fallen into their very laps. August had spoken to her many times about the ritual, about all it required and all that could come of it. The greatest of sacrifices to the Necronomicon - to her and the Goddess of True Death. Delicate features relegated his own now, silken tresses shifting as she tilts her head and reaches to brush fingertips beyond his ear, “I’ll be with you.” Regardless of where she was - she would be with all of them come their final rite.

Every so often; the turn of the century would bring to her a being or two that held a special place among those that served. Those that personified every ounce of fury and malice that she carried with her - born of Ulthar’s betrayal and Leviathan’s fury - August Cavaliere was one of those. “The Necronomicon knows’ what’s in your heart, I know you.” Far lesser men had sold their soul in it’s entirety. With frail drive and hollow machinations - but not August. “I look forward to seeing you upon your return.” In helping him to understand the full extent of the power it granted him; all that he could wield and all that he could burn in her stead. For all he’d given, her guidance and protection was deserved. “We’ll have much to discuss.” It was a feeling that he would undoubtedly come to recognize, where one followed - the rest were sure to follow, those tasked with hunting down the fallen and all those that stood in their way would not take lightly to Pythia’s resurgence. “I was wondering when you would begin to feel them. You must remember it, August. How it felt.” Too many would see him as little more than an outreach of her own power; and they’d be right. As long as the Asphodel continued to grow in power; so would she. “They can be banished, given the right tools and those willing to participate.” However, “Destroying one doesn’t come so easily, unfortunately.” Lips pursed tightly together and ran her tongue across her teeth indignantly, “The only way is with a seraph blade, wielded only by the divine themselves.” 

It was a strange thing, to be so connected to so many. To hear so many thoughts and feel the tremor of even their deepest, darkest emotions. However deeply buried they might have been, she felt them, a distant tremor in the base of her skull that she could so easily diminish. To reach out and pull at a single string and watch the entwinement of all who belonged to her and the book unravel within the palm of her hand. Too often, it left her giddy. “Tepiltzin, I was wondering when you’d find your way back to me.” They always did - it wasn’t often that one could experience all that she could offer and find such an infinite way to sever themselves. Greed was a rife poison that lingered in even the most well-rounded of creatures. Without second thought, she moves; each step neither too prominent nor inaudible as she finds herself within reach, fingertips shifting the flesh of his upper lip until she can press the pad of her thumb into the fang that elongates under the will of her own thought, “I’m not sure I like you better this way, but I suppose we shall see, won’t we?” Her vessel bleeds, a bead of crimson growing until it spills onto his lip. Even as one of the fallen, the power she carries stains that of the being she possesses, offering him but a menial taste of what he’d once had. “Is that what this is about? You want to join the band of God-killers?”

          a gift for @fxllenpythia​,

note: kisskiss, love a beca

              The Necronomicon and, tethered by that, the Pythia had once consumed his druidic life. When Seth had come forth a vampire, progeny of Mars, life was so drastically transformed that he thought little of his former proclivities, relished in wreaking newfound havoc with new abilities, lost sight of his former pursuit of necromancy. What worth was it to a vampire? Seth had never once aligned himself with anything or anyone, every ambition or desire claimed was for his own selfish gain, but the Asphodel had killed the First; a God. That was worth it’s weight in gold, it was something he could see his own former smarts within necromancy, his power now as a vampire, embellished by. “Remember me?” He’s emptily teasing, the Pythia had so many under their command, the Criminal couldn’t imagine they’d know each and every one, still there was flattery in recognition and Seth pitifully held out silent hope. He’s casual, like some louche predator despite the fact the Pythia is far more influential and menacing, Seth leans on the wall behind him, grinning as though they’re old friends, “Whatever God is next on the list, I’m interested.”

"You're talking to the great deceiver, and foolishness has never been my downfall before." If the fact that she still stood - eons after she fell, after the plight of the old gods, the first destruction of the book. The greater demon was without a doubt, a plague upon the world of mortals and all those beyond. This was nothing new - rather, a new war, indeed. "Your concern is noted, but I sleep upon silken sheets of blood with the most wretched lovers at my beck and call - perhaps you're merely projecting." Her smile is wrought with tongue and cheek. Petty insults and proclamations do not make her waiver. "Is that what you want, Pluto - do you want to hurt me?" Again, where civil conversation cannot exist, Pythia exerts the goad in a rather childlike manner. "Agree to disagree then, shall we? Until you decide to use that bite for something other than clenching your jaw and brooding in darkened corners at least." A brow rose, defiant in nature, "I know what I want and what I deserve, that's all it comes down to."

"Don't be fooled, Pythia, words can be deceiving," and words can lead to false assumptions. Yes, he'd been all about love and loyalty, of keeping those he held dear safe, simply because of what happened to Cyra and how he'd failed her back then. Now, after the great war, technically but also not 15 years later, he saw Pythia as nothing more than an ambitious creature of immense hatred. What the world had to offer them would never be enough, what they desired would only lead to complete destruction. "I just think you need a good night's rest and get fucked nicely," he wasn't being serious, but a part of him just didn't care. "Kore's gone, I'm not opposed to hurting her allies," the original vampire shrugged. They could probably spew venom at each other for years to come, but Pluto didn't really desire to keep thinking about his captivity, his broken body and soul. "never lost it," in all honesty he was hungrier than ever, "and you? I see nothing can keep you down. How unfortunate."

Natasha O'Keeffe + WHEEL OF TIME S2 Bloopers

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.”

bensu soral in tuzak

“Everything comes with a price,” an utterance that had gone unspoken for so long between them. Python had never seemingly had to warn August of what would come of his venture with her and the Necronomicon. Even still, it was only ever the stout of heart that remained when the truth of such a statement was embedded into the very marrow of harrowed bones. “They’d claw their way down for the ultimate power and yet refuse to pay the ultimate price. Fooling themselves into believing that being mediocre is a good enough gift in return for mindless servitude and laws.” All that the other side offered in her mind would retain the shape of a cage, no matter how she looked at it. Stemming from the very will of Ulthar himself - and his decree that the seraphim were to allow the humans the world promised to them - to protect and serve from above; entwined by the consequence of free-will being their own undoing. 

“More will leave,” she started, “allow some of them to believe they’ve done all they can. The time will come when they will pay what we’re owed.” We; as if everything she’d ever beholden to the world was also given to him. “Were they bold enough to have a single thought of their own, they’d understand that there are other ways.” True death. With no way back - no way to reverse the loss of a soul. A price that none expected, and one she refused to warn them of. She’d needed the numbers to begin with, the souls to grant her the power to invoke such a spell; to bring about the death of a God. Now, their souls belonged to the book - to her, and where they ran, she would always find them. “Narcissus betrayed us. Revealing our location to the Senate. We should pay them a visit.”

@fxllenpythia​ location: Necromanteion notes: finally in his unhinged era

Immortal, with the stained hands of one who’d helped to slay a God, divine ichor had run over the Asphodel and August found that there was nothing quite so addictive. Bebe was gone, Eren was gone, Eric too was leaving. Weak, each and every one of them. There had been a time when he would have counted them as traitors but if their resolve was so fragile then August thought there was little need for them. The Asphodel had grown powerful, the necronomicon was swollen with the divine essence that it had been fed, and whatever had remained of The First was now scattered to the infinite void of the accursed pages. 

August understood what was to come next, demonic freedom, the gates of the Inferno flung open and terror so unspeakable that the world would be reduced to ash. Good. Gods could bleed and they could die and the necromancer looked forward to further staining his hands, this realm would fall, then they would advance onto the next. Elysia would crumble and any who’d stood against them would come to understand the error of their ways. 

“More acolytes left in the night,” August explained, marked fools that thought they could outrun death. “I brought them back.” More fodder for the necronomicon, their souls lined within its dark pages. “Sometimes the best thing a person can do for us, is die.” 

@sethlozano location: necro world

Little more than the corner of Leviathan's mouth gave way to the satisfaction that each night brought forth. While the senate and their forces used the night to recoup, it was undoubtedly where they fared the greatest feat of all. Nothing turned the tides worse than fear and lunacy and as Pythia finds him among her coven, she greets him as an old friend, "Once more, I find myself impressed with your progression," August's depth of knowledge had never disappointed, and when she'd instructed Tepiltzin to source one of her own for an upgrade of sorts on his vampiric existence, the seraphim knew they would not be left hoping for more. "You'll be revered as you once were soon enough, we all will."

"Keep looking," as if he could be distracted by any amount at a time like this. Regardless of what came their way, Pythia would push forward. The battle ahead was truly the equivalent of a sidequest in the grand scheme of things. An offering to her devout. To take what they willed - relinquish what no longer served them all before they could look upon the gates of hell itself. What mattered, was the ritual taking place below them. Drawing the seals that kept her fallen brethren from bringing the world to it's knees with them. "Do not forget to inform me of the Drow. We wouldn't want to let our friends down in the coming days." It was an alliance that Python placed weight in for the time being, every olive branch could become a tangled of thorns without the proper attention. A brow rises to a manicured point and she huffs a breath of laughter, "Keep your secrets then," as much as he could; the greater demon would always see the truth within her most devout just as had whispered to them all over their lives, "I suppose you're going to make me to and ask him myself, hm?"

The visions had come, one after the other of the plans that would give the Asphodel the upper hand. Each new move, each new division that split from the greater body were meant with an assault from the coven. Always one step ahead of them, Bastien could pluck it from the three sisters just as the plan was formed. As if the witch were in the very depths of the Senate's minds. As if he knew their next moves even before they themselves did. "Their numbers are dwindling," he mused, head canted to the side as he peered into the darkness. "They'll continue to advance, hope to reach us before they are wiped away," but his lips curled into a smile, deadly just as he was. That is, until Pythia pressed upon what he himself was still so unsure of. "Levent?" He spoke the name as if it were unfamiliar to him, his eyes opened to peer over at her now. "If I were aware of anything besides his jealousy of my ability to bleach and tone, I would have a fair amount to share." It wasn't necessarily a lie, for Bastien had yet to uncover precisely what frustrations Levent had meant.