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Fantasy 𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟'𝕤 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖

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SoulRider said:
He tipped his imaginary hat and walked back to his airship. "Carmine! I require your assistance. We are going to follow Vincent to investigate the matter of the ferals. It will be a grand adventure!"
Click to expand...

Carmine smiled. After thousands of years, killing was quite mundane. It was the artistry that he appreciated these days. And the pure joy of spending time with his lord. He liked this one more than most.

Bowing at Platform, Carmine said, “Of course, my lord.” Rising from his bow, the commander of Wraiths materialized. “Assemble the Hounds of Tindalos, my lord is going on a hunt!”

The Wraith Commander bowed and departed.

The Undersecretary of Military Affairs, SkekAyuk along with a few of the other Skekis. While ship was infested with them as they made the best if most annoying pilots. Bowing deeply, SkekAyuk followed in behind Carmine and the Commander of the Doom Guard as everyone made their way to the command center of the ship.

Along the way, Carmine waited patiently on his lord, chatting casually about logistical necessities and group compositions. SkekAyuk and the others spoke infrequently whenever it made sense.

In the command room, everyone assembled and waited on thier lord to debrief them and outline his needs for the coming hunt.
 
Black Rose second(s)-in-command
Fronter: Kralos, Crimson
Starring: @ gmimperfecti gmimperfecti , @ JJae JJae
​
Even as the demon knew not the answer to all his concerns regarding the meeting, he did not expect to have such a shocking answer. Indeed, he expected, at most, for Beezle to be ill and her second-in-command to be taking her place instead. After all, he knew as well as the others Beezle was known for her hardwork and dedication. A leader who proved herself to be respected amongst the common demons. However she was now dead, gone. And of course, it was the damned ferals who killed her.

Some would say Kralos was emotionless. At least Kralos, the alter, the main guy, didn't emote that much under normal circumstances. But he was now under some really intense pressure. Because he knew the feral demons killed the common people in Haven, the people whose dead, although tragic, wouldn't alter societal order all that much.

And knowing his leader was on the way to the restricted zone because of Beezle's death, and the chaos his death would cause, the chaos among his subjects, the chaos inside himself as he would have been unable to save him. It was so much. So, so much. He wasn't above life and death, none of them were, and those few seconds he was in front Kralos was made painfully aware he could be next, suffering and torture and murder could still be imposed on him, and he would be once again the helpless child he once was.

A intense headache made itself present. His head felt lightweight. "How..." Perhaps what was about to happen to him, to them, looked to a mood swing to any onlookers, but soon it wasn't Kralos speaking. It was Crimson.

Crimson looked at the airship. He had no offensive abilities, and his revolver was used mostly for self-defence. But he would be damned if that airship didn't contain some good equipment. Crimson had no time for jokes, no time for mourning, not as his leader was senseless enough to go headfirst into such dangerous territory. He let his passion control him, and for a second, he put his hand on Cazendra's shoulder.

"The pain you feel after learning about Beezle's death is all-encompassing, but avoiding the death of another leader is necessary to keep Haven a stable, safe place. Next it can be any of us, and it certainly will be Vincent if he goes on his own. Take your choice, follow me or tend to your people while they need it the most. I have already taken mine."

He had no doubt Serpent's Kiss second-in-command had a streak of vengeance to appease right after her leader had died. So as soon as Carmine disappeared into the ship, he was next to follow, searching for both the arsenal inside and for a way to arrive as fast as possible. It was Caz's choice, or anyone's for that matter, to follow behind in his little stowaway adventure.
 




/* ------ left side ------ */




/* ------ tabs ------ */









  • /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
    Nothing outside of you has any power over you. It is you alone who thinks for yourself, who acts for yourself, who lives for yourself. Take full ownership and fly.


    Cazendra Virrer​






/* ------ right side ------ */

Ah, yes. The feral investigation. She would join them sooner or later, perhaps even do her own research. Beezle, Caz remembered, would have gone there instantly. Only for the sheer will to protect her people and everyone else. In her… lifetime, Caz had never mentioned the reports about the murder cases. It would have only brought the female in despair and panic. Now Cazendra had to delay her own investigation even further. With all that was to come… No, she had to find the killer of her friend first. It stood as an utmost priority.
She peaked at the last to arrive- Ravinca’s Second. The best comes last, many claimed to say. Too bad for them that the meeting found a rather abrupt ending. Cazendra irked to turn away as well. She listened to the encouraging words, though Vincent’s had striked true. If she listened, she could still hear it. Prove herself. And she would. First by bringing the unrest and panic to a low level, then by finding the murderer and after that she would work harder than ever to clear the feral issue. What else was there to prove? Perhaps she could seek a talk with each of the leaders in future days. They had to establish new agreements or reinforce old ones at least.

By Kralos invite, she felt tempted to forget the events and focus on this issue. But there was no running away. There was probably panic and hectic at home and she had to resolve this. Many tasks awaited her. This feral investigation had to wait.
Cazendra coughed, “I decline. Well then, I should go now. By any further… issues or questions call the headquarters and I will eventually get to it.” With that, the white haired demoness turned on her heels and strode out of the room. The guards avoided her sight, good. Without so many important eyes set on her, Caz released the tension from her body. Her head no longer held high, her steps faltered. Home, she would go home now.

But was it still her home? Not the way she knew it, anyways. There was no Beezle to pester her with book-shopping tours or cry about a scene in her newest literature. They wouldn’t go on free day specials anymore. No swimming in the rivers, no visiting of any important member for simple things like gossip. Yes, Beezle had been so… gentle. A warm leader with a bright smile. Could… could Cazendra achieve the same?

She pushed the button on the elevator, almost breaking it.

Of course, no one could even begin to reach Beezle’s kindness. Especially not her. She was ruthless, brutal and strategic. Everything Beezle was- was not! So how in hell’s name would she rule? What was her goal? To maintain peace between the clans? To be the new heart for Beezle’s dreams of hope and the future?
Cazendra wandered to the already waiting vessel on the river. Around her the city unfolded. Full of life and somewhat harmonious. Everyone followed their daily schedule or chatted with a friend. Some had shopping bags wrapped around their shoulders whilst others carried their working bags. How would they react to the announcement made tomorrow? Would they fret? Would they spin a theory that Caz had ended her friend’s life out of spite and power-seeking hunger? Oh, she would fry anyone who actually did voice that out loud.
Caz hopped into the boat, wordlessly. It was only a matter of minutes now, considering the speed of the vessel. Minutes until pure chaos would erupt around her. Questions, worries, more questions. She had to arrange a funeral as well! Gods. But she had to do it. Whilst the servants would prepare the ceremony and decorations, Caz would inspect the body further. It probably was in the autopsy already with at least some standard evidence to be made. She wouldn't hesitate one more minute to put her old friend to eternal rest. After all, she deserved to rest in peace.
The demoness stared at the passing city, the passing gate that announced they were already in her territory. A wave of numbness hit her. And when she looked to the empty seats before her, she couldn’t help but to see Beezle there. A little smile pulled at her lips. Right, the female would probably be fuming over the meeting now. No way he just left, she might have said. We came all that way for what? That? I could have finished my work by now!

The smile faded as fast as it came. Beezle was not here and she did not brag about the meeting. Caz was alone in the boat, safe for the driver who silently stood behind her. He probably pitied her. Only that this pity was so damned useless. It didn’t bring her friend back, did it? It didn’t change her situation either so fuck that!
She ragged a helpless breath. That was her frustration speaking. Of course, she appreciated their concerns at some point. Perhaps she just… wanted to feel their sadness as well instead of barely anything. But after all, she couldn’t even speak of Beezle’s death yet. For her, this did just not happen. Any minute now they’d dock onto the harbour and the demoness would come running at her. Her brain laughed at her for that wish, but her heart… it beated for that.
The boat stopped and a guard held his hand to her. Once again, she slapped it away and hopped to the shore. A stunning view. The river kept flowing, even outside the city. The floor was made of white stone, some had engraved small stories on them. One of Beezle’s ancestors had once brought this to life. Even demons had a sense of taste then.

The white haired female fumbled for a cigarette. It was time she finally had one–
“Oh finally!” a green little kobold came running to her. And gone was her cigarette. With a low mumbled row of any curse she could think of, Cazendra snipped her smokes away before Criad had any chance to bicker over it. She cracked her brow at him as he came to a halt before her.
Criad lifted his head, his mouth moving without a sound. She let out a sigh and stroked his head. “I know it’s hard.” Criad, too, often spent time with Beezle. She hadn’t wondered how he was doing all this time–

“I- I don’t know what to say, Cazzie.” The wobble in his voice hinted the answer to her question. “And you had to go to a meeting right away- I- What are those sages thinking? I–”
“It’s okay, Criad,” she gave him a gentle smile and started to walk. Guards kept close to her. They had increased in their number. “I want to inspect the body. Is it in the care of the autopsy group?”

“Yes, I think,” the kobold climbed onto her shoulders and played with her hair. “You never wanted to be this.”
This translated to all of this. Being a leader, being responsible and treated like some sort of queen, who needed all the protection in the world.
For once, Caz had nothing to reply. Yes, she didn’t want this. But Beezle, oh. Beezle would have wanted her to do this. Because other than most, Caz did care about the demons of their clan. She may have had different methods and acted more roughly, but in the end she wanted them all to have an at least semi-good life.

“Schedule a meeting with the press for tonight,” she mustered to say. It was better to drive this conversation to planning and facts rather than… those other things. “The funeral will be taking place this afternoon. Assemble every available staff. I want it to be in the park behind the headquarters. Her ashes will… go down into the pond.” Just like she wanted it.

His tiny hands stopped the fiddling. “You… want to bury her already?”
“She deserves a quick rest, don’t you think? I can find the murder without her body and the autopsy scholars had enough time to take what they need.”
Criad sighed and she could swear to hear his glad little smile. “Even after death you care for her…” It was the last thing he said when he sprinted off again. Caz deliberately decided to ignore whatever that was about and headed into the enormous headquarters.

They were not as massive or impressive as the Twin Towers but they still could catch amazement from anyone who visited. White marble walls reached for the sky, specked with wide windows.
Inside was a tumult she hasn't seen before. Loud talking stopped the moment she stepped inside. All pairs of eyes fixated on her now.
"You are needed for the funeral ceremony," she brought out, her voice oddly montonous. The staff exchanged quick glances. Usually it took one to two weeks but… she didn't want to live with the knowledge of her friend still being unburied. After a few seconds the mass of demons and humans passed her while she ventured inside.

The entire headquarters were so empty she could hear her own steps echoing in the hallways. Two staircases split at the sides of the entrance and lead upstairs but Caz kept heading straight forward. Her body seemed to walk on its own, slowly and careful. She could see the decorated wooden door before standing before it. Earlier she had no chance of investigating the scene in its details.
Her fingers coiled around the handle and… froze. Beezle, dead. A flesh wound, a cut straight into her abdomen region. Blood. The scent of blood.
She begged herself to move. The sooner she entered, the sooner she could leave. It wasn't even the blood or the memory of the dead body that kept her muscles from behaving. No. Deep inside her mind she knew if she entered now Beezle wouldn't be sitting there to greet her. The office would be so utterly, utterly empty. Her hand losened and fell to her side.

Before Cazendra knew it, tears strolled down her face. Ugly sobbing turned into soundles cries. She cowered now, her head bumping against the wood. "Come back," she heard herself whisper, her nails digging into the door. "Please, I— I can't do this without you."
Her throat filled with disturbing sounds of anguish and desperate pleases. Gods, no. She needed Beezle.

Needed her smile.
Needed her kind words.
Needed her babbling about books.
Needed her.
And she never had a chance to tell her all that. She never had a chance to tell her how much she loved that smile, how much she loved her laugh and stupid jokes.
Cazendra folded against the door, bent one leg and just… kept crying. Why. Just why did she leave her? Why would anyone take such precious life anyways!

Thunder cackled in the air beside her.

How could anyone take her life?
Why couldn't she have stopped this?
The same shit happened with her family too. Some rogues, some idiotic humans killed them for sport. They had never done anything wrong! Beezle had never done anything wrong!
Why did it always hit the wrong people?

Her phone vibrated in her purse. She sniffled before taking it out. Reading the text was difficult. She blinked her tears away and wiped her nose dry. Only then the text finally became visible. It was from Criad.


>>The preperations are running full house. Done in three hours.<<​


And she still had to visit the autopsy… Cazendra collected herself once more. The pressure on her heart lifted lightly. Though it would take her a while to enter this office. The demoness dragged herself up. Damn it, she was in the hallways. Anyone could have seen her. She was a leader now. No more of this.
Cazendra locked the office. Only she and, well, Beezle had a key for it. A good system she would carry on. Right… She had to worry for a next Second-In-Command as well. Perhaps Criad could give her a list of potential demons— Later, all that later.
For now she found her way back to the foyer and went left. Following that path lead her to a single door at the end. Once she pushed it open, the cold breeze splashed into her face.

A staircase of black stone spiraled down, down, down. Only candles lit the windowless way to the catacombs. Her own little… playground. Any terroristic demon or rebel with extreme activities found his way down there. The autopsy scholars she hired for the murder cases had their own chambers as well.
She entered through the thick iron door with a scan of her left thumb. With a loud rustle she was granted the entrance. Iron cells lined up beside her. Total isolation for a fewer inmates. Caz ignored the faint whisperes of the slowly insane going demons. Soon she arrived in the scholar's corner. One of them already awaited her.
The male with horns bowed and without uttering a word, he lead her inside. Caz hadn't seen him often, so she guessed he was new. Whilst the newbie ventured inside, her legs refused. She bit her lip and though phantom glue sticked her soles to the ground, she somehow ended up standing in the room.
A table in the middle, the body covered with a blue sheet and magic swirled around it. The head scholar bowed. She wore a mask and a doctor suite.

"Madam Virrer," she greeted her. Yesterday she would have said Misses. Cazendra avoided a deep breath and decided to nod in a greeting. The female gave her a long report of the injury and the possible weapon. A long dagger, it turned out to be. The next thing made her furrow her brows.

"We found traces of poison in her blood. It was already sent to the labatory. We guess it paralyzed her, which would explain her rather weird posture."

"Weird posture?"

"Indeed. If someone," she took a tool and demonstrated a slash along the stomach, "is being hit like this they usually buckle over in pain and fall over or curl." But Beezle laid straight.

Caz thanked them for their work and ordered them to prepare the body to be buried. She debated to get a last glance but… the lips must've gone blue already instead of the usual pinkish tone. Even that felt too much to bear.
In the matter of two minutes, the demoness found herself in her own office again. Only a few hours left until she'd send Beezle on her last journey. They once talked about it— the way their funeral should be. A silly talk, Caz thought back then. That it'd come true so fast…

She had failed, again.

There would be no other time.




/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.




Ah, yes. The feral investigation. She would join them sooner or later, perhaps even do her own research. Beezle, Caz remembered, would have gone there instantly. Only for the sheer will to protect her people and everyone else. In her… lifetime, Caz had never mentioned the reports about the murder cases. It would have only brought the female in despair and panic. Now Cazendra had to delay her own investigation even further. With all that was to come… No, she had to find the killer of her friend first. It stood as an utmost priority.
She peaked at the last to arrive- Ravinca’s Second. The best comes last, many claimed to say. Too bad for them that the meeting found a rather abrupt ending. Cazendra irked to turn away as well. She listened to the encouraging words, though Vincent’s had striked true. If she listened, she could still hear it. Prove herself. And she would. First by bringing the unrest and panic to a low level, then by finding the murderer and after that she would work harder than ever to clear the feral issue. What else was there to prove? Perhaps she could seek a talk with each of the leaders in future days. They had to establish new agreements or reinforce old ones at least.

By Kralos invite, she felt tempted to forget the events and focus on this issue. But there was no running away. There was probably panic and hectic at home and she had to resolve this. Many tasks awaited her. This feral investigation had to wait.
Cazendra coughed, “I decline. Well then, I should go now. By any further… issues or questions call the headquarters and I will eventually get to it.” With that, the white haired demoness turned on her heels and strode out of the room. The guards avoided her sight, good. Without so many important eyes set on her, Caz released the tension from her body. Her head no longer held high, her steps faltered. Home, she would go home now.

But was it still her home? Not the way she knew it, anyways. There was no Beezle to pester her with book-shopping tours or cry about a scene in her newest literature. They wouldn’t go on free day specials anymore. No swimming in the rivers, no visiting of any important member for simple things like gossip. Yes, Beezle had been so… gentle. A warm leader with a bright smile. Could… could Cazendra achieve the same?

She pushed the button on the elevator, almost breaking it.

Of course, no one could even begin to reach Beezle’s kindness. Especially not her. She was ruthless, brutal and strategic. Everything Beezle was- was not! So how in hell’s name would she rule? What was her goal? To maintain peace between the clans? To be the new heart for Beezle’s dreams of hope and the future?
Cazendra wandered to the already waiting vessel on the river. Around her the city unfolded. Full of life and somewhat harmonious. Everyone followed their daily schedule or chatted with a friend. Some had shopping bags wrapped around their shoulders whilst others carried their working bags. How would they react to the announcement made tomorrow? Would they fret? Would they spin a theory that Caz had ended her friend’s life out of spite and power-seeking hunger? Oh, she would fry anyone who actually did voice that out loud.
Caz hopped into the boat, wordlessly. It was only a matter of minutes now, considering the speed of the vessel. Minutes until pure chaos would erupt around her. Questions, worries, more questions. She had to arrange a funeral as well! Gods. But she had to do it. Whilst the servants would prepare the ceremony and decorations, Caz would inspect the body further. It probably was in the autopsy already with at least some standard evidence to be made. She wouldn't hesitate one more minute to put her old friend to eternal rest. After all, she deserved to rest in peace.
The demoness stared at the passing city, the passing gate that announced they were already in her territory. A wave of numbness hit her. And when she looked to the empty seats before her, she couldn’t help but to see Beezle there. A little smile pulled at her lips. Right, the female would probably be fuming over the meeting now. No way he just left, she might have said. We came all that way for what? That? I could have finished my work by now!

The smile faded as fast as it came. Beezle was not here and she did not brag about the meeting. Caz was alone in the boat, safe for the driver who silently stood behind her. He probably pitied her. Only that this pity was so damned useless. It didn’t bring her friend back, did it? It didn’t change her situation either so fuck that!
She ragged a helpless breath. That was her frustration speaking. Of course, she appreciated their concerns at some point. Perhaps she just… wanted to feel their sadness as well instead of barely anything. But after all, she couldn’t even speak of Beezle’s death yet. For her, this did just not happen. Any minute now they’d dock onto the harbour and the demoness would come running at her. Her brain laughed at her for that wish, but her heart… it beated for that.
The boat stopped and a guard held his hand to her. Once again, she slapped it away and hopped to the shore. A stunning view. The river kept flowing, even outside the city. The floor was made of white stone, some had engraved small stories on them. One of Beezle’s ancestors had once brought this to life. Even demons had a sense of taste then.

The white haired female fumbled for a cigarette. It was time she finally had one–
“Oh finally!” a green little kobold came running to her. And gone was her cigarette. With a low mumbled row of any curse she could think of, Cazendra snipped her smokes away before Criad had any chance to bicker over it. She cracked her brow at him as he came to a halt before her.
Criad lifted his head, his mouth moving without a sound. She let out a sigh and stroked his head. “I know it’s hard.” Criad, too, often spent time with Beezle. She hadn’t wondered how he was doing all this time–

“I- I don’t know what to say, Cazzie.” The wobble in his voice hinted the answer to her question. “And you had to go to a meeting right away- I- What are those sages thinking? I–”
“It’s okay, Criad,” she gave him a gentle smile and started to walk. Guards kept close to her. They had increased in their number. “I want to inspect the body. Is it in the care of the autopsy group?”

“Yes, I think,” the kobold climbed onto her shoulders and played with her hair. “You never wanted to be this.”
This translated to all of this. Being a leader, being responsible and treated like some sort of queen, who needed all the protection in the world.
For once, Caz had nothing to reply. Yes, she didn’t want this. But Beezle, oh. Beezle would have wanted her to do this. Because other than most, Caz did care about the demons of their clan. She may have had different methods and acted more roughly, but in the end she wanted them all to have an at least semi-good life.

“Schedule a meeting with the press for tonight,” she mustered to say. It was better to drive this conversation to planning and facts rather than… those other things. “The funeral will be taking place this afternoon. Assemble every available staff. I want it to be in the park behind the headquarters. Her ashes will… go down into the pond.” Just like she wanted it.

His tiny hands stopped the fiddling. “You… want to bury her already?”
“She deserves a quick rest, don’t you think? I can find the murder without her body and the autopsy scholars had enough time to take what they need.”
Criad sighed and she could swear to hear his glad little smile. “Even after death you care for her…” It was the last thing he said when he sprinted off again. Caz deliberately decided to ignore whatever that was about and headed into the enormous headquarters.

They were not as massive or impressive as the Twin Towers but they still could catch amazement from anyone who visited. White marble walls reached for the sky, specked with wide windows.
Inside was a tumult she hasn't seen before. Loud talking stopped the moment she stepped inside. All pairs of eyes fixated on her now.
"You are needed for the funeral ceremony," she brought out, her voice oddly montonous. The staff exchanged quick glances. Usually it took one to two weeks but… she didn't want to live with the knowledge of her friend still being unburied. After a few seconds the mass of demons and humans passed her while she ventured inside.

The entire headquarters were so empty she could hear her own steps echoing in the hallways. Two staircases split at the sides of the entrance and lead upstairs but Caz kept heading straight forward. Her body seemed to walk on its own, slowly and careful. She could see the decorated wooden door before standing before it. Earlier she had no chance of investigating the scene in its details.
Her fingers coiled around the handle and… froze. Beezle, dead. A flesh wound, a cut straight into her abdomen region. Blood. The scent of blood.
She begged herself to move. The sooner she entered, the sooner she could leave. It wasn't even the blood or the memory of the dead body that kept her muscles from behaving. No. Deep inside her mind she knew if she entered now Beezle wouldn't be sitting there to greet her. The office would be so utterly, utterly empty. Her hand losened and fell to her side.

Before Cazendra knew it, tears strolled down her face. Ugly sobbing turned into soundles cries. She cowered now, her head bumping against the wood. "Come back," she heard herself whisper, her nails digging into the door. "Please, I— I can't do this without you."
Her throat filled with disturbing sounds of anguish and desperate pleases. Gods, no. She needed Beezle.

Needed her smile.
Needed her kind words.
Needed her babbling about books.
Needed her.
And she never had a chance to tell her all that. She never had a chance to tell her how much she loved that smile, how much she loved her laugh and stupid jokes.
Cazendra folded against the door, bent one leg and just… kept crying. Why. Just why did she leave her? Why would anyone take such precious life anyways!

Thunder cackled in the air beside her.

How could anyone take her life?
Why couldn't she have stopped this?
The same shit happened with her family too. Some rogues, some idiotic humans killed them for sport. They had never done anything wrong! Beezle had never done anything wrong!
Why did it always hit the wrong people?

Her phone vibrated in her purse. She sniffled before taking it out. Reading the text was difficult. She blinked her tears away and wiped her nose dry. Only then the text finally became visible. It was from Criad.


>>The preperations are running full house. Done in three hours.<<​


And she still had to visit the autopsy… Cazendra collected herself once more. The pressure on her heart lifted lightly. Though it would take her a while to enter this office. The demoness dragged herself up. Damn it, she was in the hallways. Anyone could have seen her. She was a leader now. No more of this.
Cazendra locked the office. Only she and, well, Beezle had a key for it. A good system she would carry on. Right… She had to worry for a next Second-In-Command as well. Perhaps Criad could give her a list of potential demons— Later, all that later.
For now she found her way back to the foyer and went left. Following that path lead her to a single door at the end. Once she pushed it open, the cold breeze splashed into her face.

A staircase of black stone spiraled down, down, down. Only candles lit the windowless way to the catacombs. Her own little… playground. Any terroristic demon or rebel with extreme activities found his way down there. The autopsy scholars she hired for the murder cases had their own chambers as well.
She entered through the thick iron door with a scan of her left thumb. With a loud rustle she was granted the entrance. Iron cells lined up beside her. Total isolation for a fewer inmates. Caz ignored the faint whisperes of the slowly insane going demons. Soon she arrived in the scholar's corner. One of them already awaited her.
The male with horns bowed and without uttering a word, he lead her inside. Caz hadn't seen him often, so she guessed he was new. Whilst the newbie ventured inside, her legs refused. She bit her lip and though phantom glue sticked her soles to the ground, she somehow ended up standing in the room.
A table in the middle, the body covered with a blue sheet and magic swirled around it. The head scholar bowed. She wore a mask and a doctor suite.


"Madam Virrer," she greeted her. Yesterday she would have said Misses. Cazendra avoided a deep breath and decided to nod in a greeting. The female gave her a long report of the injury and the possible weapon. A long dagger, it turned out to be. The next thing made her furrow her brows.

"We found traces of poison in her blood. It was already sent to the labatory. We guess it paralyzed her, which would explain her rather weird posture."

"Weird posture?"

"Indeed. If someone," she took a tool and demonstrated a slash along the stomach, "is being hit like this they usually buckle over in pain and fall over or curl." But Beezle laid straight.

Caz thanked them for their work and ordered them to prepare the body to be buried. She debated to get a last glance but… the lips must've gone blue already instead of the usual pinkish tone. Even that felt too much to bear.
In the matter of two minutes, the demoness found herself in her own office again. Only a few hours left until she'd send Beezle on her last journey. They once talked about it— the way their funeral should be. A silly talk, Caz thought back then. That it'd come true so fast…

She had failed, again.

There would be no other time.
 
Last edited:
Mr. Skull said:
He had no doubt Serpent's Kiss second-in-command had a streak of vengeance to appease right after her leader had died. So as soon as Carmine disappeared into the ship, he was next to follow, searching for both the arsenal inside and for a way to arrive as fast as possible. It was Caz's choice, or anyone's for that matter, to follow behind in his little stowaway adventure.
Click to expand...

Miraculously, Caz found it quite easy to “stowaway” on the ship. Everyone seemed to be looking in a different direction and making it over the gangplank and onto the ship. It was the ship of the line, and there wasn’t much room for luxury anymore. The main compliment aboard the ship were the Skekis, who shambled around manning different components. The massive Doom Guards patrolled the more secure and private areas of the ship.
 
Black Rose second(s)-in-command
Fronter: Crimson
Starring: gmimperfecti gmimperfecti Darkbloom Darkbloom
​
Caz took her choice to stand behind. Such a distaste for vengeance on her part left Crimson baffled, of course there was a time and place for everything, right? But he had taken that into consideration before, Serpent's Kiss new "leader" (as some did not accept that title for her) had work to do, a funeral to prepare, and if she died, the fine thread of order keeping Serpent's Kiss from breaking apart would break. Crimson however had other duties, namely avoiding that for Vincent.

But despite the airship being certainly allied, he did not exactly feel welcome as the distracted crew geared up to sail. And he wasn't welcome, not without the permission of Bloody Moon's higher ups.

Fortunately for him, there was a sort of blueprint hanged on the wall, in order for those aboard the ship to not get lost. And as he imagined in a ship like that, there was an arsenal. However he would need to pass by the command room where Carmine, Asmodey, and the pilots would certainly be. If he was fast enough, he would go unnoticed, but anyone suspecting he was a stowaway would give the alarm and he would need to give an explanation. He would do that later were that necessary, for now he needed to reach "his" guns.

He strode across the hallway, most people either way too busy or way too distracted to truly take note of his presence. If someone stopped him, he would raise to them his ID, identifying him as Black Rose's second and he would say "yes, I'm allowed to be here".

He passed across the barracks. What could possibly go wrong?
 
Black Rose Leader
Vincent Zhao
Mood: Remorseful / Panic
Haven, Contaminated Zone
During his walk towards the restricted zone of Haven, Vincent pondered on the multiple different thoughts in his head, some of his thoughts were of his own questioning of whether he had been out of place when he had spoken up against the Serpent's Kiss' elders regarding how they treated the idea of speaking up about the death of their leader as well as suddenly informing everyone about the new one in command. Surely, everyone was suffering at the moment, and everyone had their own way of showing their suffering, maybe he was being too rude about how he spoke to them as well as how he treated them. Eventually shaking his head to try and clear his mind of his own regrets, Vincent knew well enough that regretting his actions could lead to serious consequences in multiple different ways down the line, he had to stay strong, for himself and for the people of Haven. Even with his regretful thoughts suppressed, his memories of Beezle did not fade with the same amount of ease. Sure, he didn't exactly have the fondest of memories with the leader since he spent a large majority of his time either doing paperwork or simply reviewing daily, weekly and monthly reports on the situations throughout the city. Being all thanks to his training during his childhood by his family. 'Beezle...How could you just let yourself be killed like that...? You were smart, brave, and quick-witted...what could've happened that you were caught off guard like that...?' His mind wandered aimlessly while he walked.

With his clouded mind, Vincent paid little to no attention to his surroundings as he proceeded in the direction of the restricted zone. Passing by the warning signs posted all around him, the obvious sight of less civilization and the increase of boarded up buildings.
Eventually he would end up reaching his destination, the barrier between the rest of Haven and the contaminated zone. Surrounding the massive barrier that stretched out for what seemed like an endless degree were scholars of each of the four clans followed by multiple military guards from the clan of Bloody Moon stationed there as well. These groups were stationed here at all times just to make sure that no random civilians found the barrier and attempted to sneak in as well as stopping any ferals that might be attempting to escape via smashing the barrier.

As Vincent approached the barrier, the head scholar immediately took notice of his approach before scurrying over to attempt and stop the leader from proceeding forward any further. "S-sir Vincent! Wh-what are you doing here? We have everything under control as usual." The elderly female scholar spoke up while her colleagues continued to monitor the strength of the barrier as they have always done. "As of recently, have any ferals escaped this place?" Rather than answer the woman's question, Vincent responded with a question of his own while his one eye focused onto the barrier that stood before him the entire time. The elderly woman on the other hand stared at the Black Rose leader with a raised brow and rather confused expression, almost as though she were questioning his sanity. "H-huh? What're you talking about sir? Of course not, we monitor the barrier on a twenty-four-hour schedule and any ferals that get too close to the edges of the barrier are dealt with immediately by the military personnel here...wait--has something happened sir?" Of course, with being at the barrier at nearly all times, except for the changing of shifts, the thought of knowing all the details around the city was practically impossible.

Rather than go into detail regarding the situation about the recent number of murders spreading throughout the city as well as the death of a leader, Vincent made his way around the scholar while waving his arm over his head as he passed her. "Open the barrier gate and no matter what you hear. Do not open the gate unless you see me returning." With his orders given the elderly female scholar was baffled for a few moments regarding what she was to do before snapping out of her confusion and immediately ordering her fellow scholars to open up the barrier so that Vincent could enter.
After their orders were given and Vincent approached one side of the barrier where two guards had been stationed, the barrier lifted only slightly into the shaping gap of a door to allow him to pass. The two guards dared not to intrude on Vincent's decision to enter the dangerous area and simply stood at attention while he approached and finally entered.

Moments after entering the contaminated zone, the once darkened sky had immediately turned crimson from underneath the barrier, as the gap closed behind him instantaneously. Staring up towards the once white moon now being a deep crimson red, the metallic copper scent of blood filled the air till it had nearly become overwhelming. Shaking his head at the intense smell, he proceeded to make his way through the ruins of the area.
Throughout his trek towards the center of the restricted zone, Vincent brought his gaze towards his surroundings, taking in the sight of the crumbling remains of what were once homes and businesses. Scattered around were either half eaten corpses of ferals or those foolish enough to had snuck their way into the area and gotten themselves killed and eventually devoured. With the number of innocent deaths that littered the zone followed by the danger within the area, sending troops into this place to retrieve the bodies for effected families was too far of a dangerous task, so those who had been killed here were left to rot. While Vincent would normally mourn for the dead if he had the chance, the investigation took priority at the moment.

After several minutes had passed and not a single sight or sound of a feral was seen, Vincent began eventually came to a halt as he began to turn his head from one direction to the next in utter confusion. Normally, this place should've been crawling with ferals and the thought of finding even one was a simple enough of a task, and yet, he hadn't found a single one. Suddenly, with tremendous speed, a humanoid creature came flying towards the leader, catching him off guard. The creature buried its fist into Vincent's abdomen before slamming him into the ground till massive cracks began to form underneath the male. With widened eyes and a violent cough of blood, by the time he was crushed into the asphalt of the ground, the humanoid quickly jumped back while it bounced in place with its fists raised.

Struggling to stand after just one strike, Vincent held a single hand over his wound that was now bleeding profusely. Gritting his teeth, he brought his gaze towards his opponent only to find what appeared to had been a feral whose body was clearly infected by the strange growths of fungus and such scattering its body. However, unlike a mindless one that was the normal case for ferals, this one took a fighting stance that was similar to that of a boxer. "C'mon ya old fart!...Don't die on me too soon now, I want to make sure to make this last before the others get here!" As the feral demon spoke, Vincent was left speechless and in pure shock. The feral was talking. A talking feral. When were they able to talk, how were they able to talk. Questions filled his head to the point that all he could do was stare while attempting to piece together what he was witnessing before him.

"Tsk..fine, you don't want to come at me?! Then you'll die an early death!" In an instant, the creature took advantage of Vincent's shock to sprint forward at its ridiculous speed once more. This time, the creature swung its fist at the leader's jaw sending him flying. Crashing through one building after another, the sheer force of the punch and speed he was sent flying at made it difficult to even hold his head as he went barreling through the large structures until finally coming to a halt inside of an old coffee shop.
Code by Serobliss
 
Asmoday walked onto the air ship with purpose, having the door close behind him. Making his way to the command room, he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye but shrugged it off and kept walking. The Doom guard would take care of it if needed. He got to the command room and updated everyone on the meeting. "Attention! The meeting was... rather intriguing. For one, the leader of Serpent's Kiss, Beezlebub, has been killed." He let the news sink in for a moment before continuing. "The elders of Serpent's Kiss have appointed a new leader in her stead, Cazendra Virrer. While I don't have any problems with the change, Vincent had a bit of an outburst. Granted, he probably knew Beezle the best out of all us leaders."

He walked around the room with his hands behind his back. "That brings us to this matter. We suspect ferals might be getting out of the restricted zone. That's where I saw Vincent heading after the meeting was... abruptly adjourned. There are still leaders talking about things but in my opinion, I believe our time is better spent helping Vincent with investigating the restricted zone. So that's where we're going, everyone. Once we arrive, Carmine and I will go into the restricted zone to look for Vincent. If you have any questions, ask them later. We need to get there as soon as possible." He turns to look at Carmine. "Once you've told the pilots to fly full speed ahead, join me in the waiting room. Everyone back to your stations!" He leaves the command room to go to the waiting room, where it is easier to get on and off the ship when the doors open. He will not be delayed by taking the time to walk from one room to the next when he could be ready to leave immediately when they arrive.

gmimperfecti gmimperfecti Mr. Skull Mr. Skull
 
mood :
Concerned, overwhelmed and confused

location :
Sky Reach Sanctum: Meeting room
outfit :
more masculine appearing on the current day, wearing a white loose poet's style shirt, partially button up with black pants and black slightly heeled boots to match with a black leather harness top over top of their shirt, and layered black belts and silver chains.
mentions :
blue tea blue tea

interactions :
Yuhwa (Leader of Ravinca)
Kuroda
n a o m i

“Eventually.”

It was not the most convincing to Naomi but it also was not the time to focus on that at the time. It had appeared despite their rush to get to the meeting, it was one that didn't last very long and would glance down at their leader. Maybe it was the time to wait for once and see what Yuhwa wanted to do next. Given that a leader had died, it would be unwise for any of them to be alone for the time being. Watching first Karlos leave only shortly followed by Cazendra, Naomi would give the two a small bow of their head, as they pass, now assuming it was time that the meeting was over. For them, it really was a choice of following Vincent, the one who seemed to call the meeting and left to investigate feral, pay their respect to the fallen leader or simply, wait. Waiting didn't seem like the most optimal option so they look towards Yuhwa once again.

"What are the next plans for Ravinca? After all that has happened here. Shall we pay respects to the fallen leader or do you have anything else in mind planned such as investigating the ferals?" They asked in a cool tone, trying to remain calm despite the thoughts running through their brain. The frequency of flashbacks of capturing the ones who help them captive and during the time of being captive have been haunting their mind for awhile, and it was truly bothersome to try and keep on ignoring it. They were struggling as there was only one common theme that kept appearing through everything.

Ferals.

If Yuhwa wasn't going to do anything much as of now, Naomi knew where they wanted to go, a place they might have visited only once or twice before. At the same time, they could also return back to the office and increase security throughout the city, it might be best given what happened, citizens will need and want to know actions are being taken to make sure those within the city are being protected, and that mostly was on the shoulders of Ravinca, though Naomi wasn't sure if Yuhwa would be in such a state to be thinking about this. Again, they might have to take on a few extra jobs on top of their own investigation of Feral and contacts with engineers of Ravinca who keep on experimenting on new technologies that might help them fight these ferals, if they are proposed to might become a bigger threat in the future. Why now? What really killed Beezle? Why are ferals a threat more now than before? What are we supposed to do now?

Thoughts plague their mind, despite Naomi's effort to be present in the situation, Yuhwa, who has worked with Naomi for some time, could see that Naom was in their own head, trying no to show it and doing a pretty okay job at it as well. Doing a good job except that the temperature around them began to drop, steadily but at an alarming rate, water on their skin and clothing beginning to turn into ice.
coded by reveriee.



​
“Eventually.”

It was not the most convincing to Naomi but it also was not the time to focus on that at the time. It had appeared despite their rush to get to the meeting, it was one that didn't last very long and would glance down at their leader. Maybe it was the time to wait for once and see what Yuhwa wanted to do next. Given that a leader had died, it would be unwise for any of them to be alone for the time being. Watching first Karlos leave only shortly followed by Cazendra, Naomi would give the two a small bow of their head, as they pass, now assuming it was time that the meeting was over. For them, it really was a choice of following Vincent, the one who seemed to call the meeting and left to investigate feral, pay their respect to the fallen leader or simply, wait. Waiting didn't seem like the most optimal option so they look towards Yuhwa once again.

"What are the next plans for Ravinca? After all that has happened here. Shall we pay respects to the fallen leader or do you have anything else in mind planned such as investigating the ferals?" They asked in a cool tone, trying to remain calm despite the thoughts running through their brain. The frequency of flashbacks of capturing the ones who help them captive and during the time of being captive have been haunting their mind for awhile, and it was truly bothersome to try and keep on ignoring it. They were struggling as there was only one common theme that kept appearing through everything.

Ferals.

If Yuhwa wasn't going to do anything much as of now, Naomi knew where they wanted to go, a place they might have visited only once or twice before. At the same time, they could also return back to the office and increase security throughout the city, it might be best given what happened, citizens will need and want to know actions are being taken to make sure those within the city are being protected, and that mostly was on the shoulders of Ravinca, though Naomi wasn't sure if Yuhwa would be in such a state to be thinking about this. Again, they might have to take on a few extra jobs on top of their own investigation of Feral and contacts with engineers of Ravinca who keep on experimenting on new technologies that might help them fight these ferals, if they are proposed to might become a bigger threat in the future. Why now? What really killed Beezle? Why are ferals a threat more now than before? What are we supposed to do now?

Thoughts plague their mind, despite Naomi's effort to be present in the situation, Yuhwa, who has worked with Naomi for some time, could see that Naom was in their own head, trying no to show it and doing a pretty okay job at it as well. Doing a good job except that the temperature around them began to drop, steadily but at an alarming rate, water on their skin and clothing beginning to turn into ice.
​
​
 
Last edited:
Sofia's Search
Interacting with: None​
Everything had been going so well. Sofia was enjoying her time finishing up her last mission and was looking forward to reporting back to the Serpent's Kiss leader. Nothing got her going like taking out a high-priority target far away from city limits and exploring the world beyond Haven. Sofia's world outside the walls was always deeply fascinating because she'd never know what to expect. Sometimes she'd encounter strange demons with extraordinary powers and stories, and other times she'd run into bands of hunters or sympathetic humans. People were so weird and unpredictable that there always was something special to find regardless of where she was sent. This time brought many different stories that she couldn't wait to share. At least that was until she arrived to receive the most devastating news she'd heard in decades.

It all seemed to move so fast; the panic around headquarters and the frantic movement around a meeting that was held with the other clans' leadership clearly indicated that something had gone wrong. At first, Sofia had no idea what was going on as guards sprinted back and forth and Cazendra was nowhere to be seen. Worry took hold of Sofia's mind as she had no idea what was going on, but she knew it couldn't be good. As she made her way down the hallway near her office, Sofia took a step back and hid in the shadows when she spotted Caz making her way down the hallway. Judging by the look on her face, Sofia assumed that it would be best not to approach her or even make her presence known. Once Caz was out of sight, Sofia slowly followed her path from a distance to try and figure out what was going on.

As Sofia stealthily followed through the shadowy corridors, sticking to her feeling of Caz's presence in said shadows, she spotted several groups of guards frantically moving up and down the halls. After a couple of minutes, the shadow demon lost track of her objective and finally decided to give up the chase and look for some guard to ask about the situation. It didn't take long for her to spot one particularly anxious-looking guard standing around near Sky Reach Sanctum. The poor demon's face looked like he was on the verge of a full-on panic attack, which tied a knot in Sofia's stomach. After taking a moment to approach from the side, she finally stepped out of the shadows a few feet from the guard. "Hello, there. Sorry to drop by, but you look scared out of your mind." The shadowy figure stepped out with a curious, yet concerned look on her face.

Noticeably startled, the guard jumped back a little with wide eyes and drew his weapon, before realizing who was talking to him and straightening himself out. "Apologies. Something has happened and everyone is on high alert." Despite his best attempts, the guard couldn't hide the anxiety in his voice. "No worries, I can tell that something is up around here. I didn't mean to startle you." Sofia gently put her hands up with a coy smile on her face as she stepped around and in front of the man, who looked more at ease in her presence. "So what exactly happened here? I just got back and really want to report my success, but everyone looks so scared around here it's like the apocalypse." She put her hands together over her stomach and gave him some puppy-dog eyes, trying to coax the information out of him.

He stuttered and shuffled his hands a little, struggling to make eye contact with Sofia before sighing and giving it up. The guard looked around to make sure no one was watching, and leaned in close to whisper in Sofia's ear. "Our leader has been murdered right here and we have reason to believe the killer is still on headquarters grounds." Sofia's eyes went wide and her body and demeanor paused for a moment as a flash of rage and sadness washed over her. She was dead? How could this have happened? Part of her wanted to rip apart any nearby guards for failing to protect their clan's leader, but she quickly restrained those thoughts. As angry as she was, Sofia understood that she needed to focus her rage on whoever killed her esteemed leader.

Sighing angrily, Sofia took a deep breath and walked away silently, not even bothering to say anything. She could hear the guard calling out to her from behind, but paid him no mind. Sofia quickly vanished into the shadows and started darting through every corridor she could, sticking to the shadows to attempt to sense any suspicious movement. Time went by as her shadows failed to pick up any signals that alerted her, and she felt her anger building more and more. Just when she considered changing her methods, she overheard a few people walking by talking about a funeral. A funeral? It's certainly a quick funeral. Maybe I should go there... unless. An idea flashed through Sofia's head and she smiled wide at her sudden brilliance.

If there was to be a funeral, then everyone would surely be moving about to make preparations and to get everything set up. Not only that, but she was sure Caz would have already taken over as the new leader after being such a stellar second-in-command. All of these moving pieces would provide her with a new target to hone in on: whoever refused to move. She made her way through tight and dark corridors yet again, focusing now on any signatures that remained stationary. Only someone who didn't want to be seen would avoid moving with so much going on, and that would prove to be their fatal mistake. She would need to be quick. Whoever this murderer was would probably try to take advantage once everyone was at the funeral to make their escape when no one was paying attention. Game on.
 





















yuhwa aeng



ravinca leader.














alias

hananoami.






nicknames

pretty boy, pinkie, cherry, yunnie.






title

pink spider lily, little trickster, huli jing.






species

demon.






pronouns

he / him.






age

" twenty-five ".






abilities

shapeshifting, shield construction, would / pain transfer.






clan ability

falling yin.















i prefer not to think before speaking. i like being just as surprised as everyone else by what comes out of my mouth. sometimes it ends well, and other times? not so much.







i've lost myself long ago

THE PINKETTE WATCHED THE OTHERS LEAVE, worrying his bottom lip until he drew beads of blood to the surface. His head bowed, fingers absently playing with light strawberry pink locks until he tugged at the strands harshly, drawing a hiss out. His nose scrunched up, blinking beadily to catch the last few sentences from Naomi.

He blinked several times. Huh? His mind whirled until it gradually settled on what most likely transpired. His lips puckering with a hum. “I don’t think I’d be—” Yuhwa shook his head. He wasn’t ready to face Beezle. Not in a coffin. Not yet. He didn’t want to see any of them in those awful things. His poor heart wouldn’t be able to take it. He’d lost enough people as it was. The thought of losing Naomi? The other leaders? He couldn’t stomach it.

His fingers curled into the palm of his hands, creating indents within the porcelain flesh. His breath wheezed past bloodied lips. His mask tilted awkwardly, but Yuhwa paid no mind. No one was here to see his face.

Yuhwa glanced up at Naomi. His head cocked with furrowed brows. “I think its best to have all hands on deck for this. We’re still unsure of what’s conspiring. The thought is certainly worrisome.” His finger tapped his chin, hidden beneath the redden hue of his mask. Something horrible is going to happen. He was already failing as a leader, no doubt the prior leader cursing him from the grave for his stupidity. Yuhwa sighed. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? He doubted there was much hope for him. The male wanted to laugh, shoulders shaking with the inaudible notion.

“We’ll head back to headquarters and see what prototypes the others and myself have built to combat against the ferals and other uncanny enemies that we’re unaware of.” He sighed. The male reaching to thread slender fingers through pinkish locks. The air surrounding him was somber. The usual happy luster that surrounded him was nothing more than a dull flicker, barely holding on the longer he continued to fester within his worries and darkening thoughts.

“I’ll head to the restricted zone to test them out myself.” He added. Yuhwa wouldn’t put the others at risk. He didn’t doubt their abilities, but it would only make Yuhwa worry more. He didn’t like people risking themselves when he could perfectly well do it himself. Why harm more when Yuhwa could perfectly do it?

Even so, he’d just push past his limits. He was notorious for shrugging of injuries. The male waving his hand, grinning sheepishly even if his organs were hanging out. The male would simply shove them back in. Problem solved! Just a few stitches and he’d be fine.

Stitches solved every physical injury. He could vouch for that! It saved him time having to bother the healers. Of course, Yuhwa hadn’t been prone to telling anyone he’d even been injured. He was fine! Honest!

He was more than capable of handling himself, even if his certain abilities were killing him gradually. It was a price he was willing to pay a thousand times over. “We’ll need to update our defenses. Check them. Do something.” He muttered. His tone weary. “Something is killing these people. Ferals or not. We need to make sure something like this doesn’t happen so easily.”

The male bounced on the balls of his feet. His fingers unfurling to tap against his thighs in a non-rhythmic pattern.

“I have … something else to do—” Yuhwa paused. His head whipping to stare at the other with a worried chirp. His body inching closer at the lack of response. He knew how much the other could fall into their own head. It was noticeable in the subtle drop in temperature. Gooseflesh appearing along his skin despite being covered. The material doing nothing to hide his shivering frame. Pretty soon, I’m going to be a strawberry popsicle. He thought humorlessly. I wonder what that’d taste like? His nose scrunched up at the thought. He’d be a good desert for ferals, no doubt. The male radiated strawberries and cinnamon.

“Naomi?” He called. His head cocked, watching the other closely. “Things will work out in the end. I’m sure of it!” His throat vibrated with a purr. The male wanting nothing more than to comfort his second-in-command. He hated seeing them like this. It hurt. His heart thundering against his sternum with a soft keen.

Yuhwa reached out tentatively, fingers brushing attempting to brush against Naomi’s forearm, just below their elbow. Despite the shivers, he remained relatively warm. His head titled, bending sideways to watch the other. “We’ll be alright!” He chirped. His throat continuing to vibrate, letting out soothing purrs. “We’re in this together!” He grinned. His light blue hues vibrating with warmth.

“You think ferals can taste sweets? It’d be pretty boring if they couldn’t, don’t you think? Although what would they need that for? Sad, if you think about it.” He rambled. The male rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He hadn’t realized he’d gone a tad too far.

The pinkette let out a squawk, tumbling backward with a thump against the floor. He groaned, laying sprawled out. His light blue hues narrowing. Did he just—? His lips peeled into a sheepish grin. Uh-oh. He wasn’t too embarrassed.

His light blue hues large, blinking owlishly. He let out a quiet chirp, raising upward into a sitting position. His mask askew, showing a sliver of flesh along his cheek. He let out a loud laugh. “I forgot I was wearing heels.” He mused. The male shook his ankles at the statement, showing his calf-high boots that had a small heel attached. His fingers reached to brush the edges of his mask, glancing up at Naomi with a trill. “Let’s head back, mhm? I have flowers waiting for me.” He waved his arms. His lips curling into a bittersweet grimace. After all, he still needed to visit someone else.

thoughts speech​





i forgot what it's like to be loved.























































you're a little tragedy, aren't you?
























♡coded by uxie♡










YOU'RE A TRAGEDY
THE PINKETTE WATCHED THE OTHERS LEAVE, worrying his bottom lip until he drew beads of blood to the surface. His head bowed, fingers absently playing with light strawberry pink locks until he tugged at the strands harshly, drawing a hiss out. His nose scrunched up, blinking beadily to catch the last few sentences from Naomi.

He blinked several times. Huh? His mind whirled until it gradually settled on what most likely transpired. His lips puckering with a hum. “I don’t think I’d be—” Yuhwa shook his head. He wasn’t ready to face Beezle. Not in a coffin. Not yet. He didn’t want to see any of them in those awful things. His poor heart wouldn’t be able to take it. He’d lost enough people as it was. The thought of losing Naomi? The other leaders? He couldn’t stomach it.

His fingers curled into the palm of his hands, creating indents within the porcelain flesh. His breath wheezed past bloodied lips. His mask tilted awkwardly, but Yuhwa paid no mind. No one was here to see his face.

Yuhwa glanced up at Naomi. His head cocked with furrowed brows. “I think its best to have all hands on deck for this. We’re still unsure of what’s conspiring. The thought is certainly worrisome.” His finger tapped his chin, hidden beneath the redden hue of his mask. Something horrible is going to happen. He was already failing as a leader, no doubt the prior leader cursing him from the grave for his stupidity. Yuhwa sighed. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? He doubted there was much hope for him. The male wanted to laugh, shoulders shaking with the inaudible notion.

“We’ll head back to headquarters and see what prototypes the others and myself have built to combat against the ferals and other uncanny enemies that we’re unaware of.” He sighed. The male reaching to thread slender fingers through pinkish locks. The air surrounding him was somber. The usual happy luster that surrounded him was nothing more than a dull flicker, barely holding on the longer he continued to fester within his worries and darkening thoughts.

“I’ll head to the restricted zone to test them out myself.” He added. Yuhwa wouldn’t put the others at risk. He didn’t doubt their abilities, but it would only make Yuhwa worry more. He didn’t like people risking themselves when he could perfectly well do it himself. Why harm more when Yuhwa could perfectly do it?

Even so, he’d just push past his limits. He was notorious for shrugging of injuries. The male waving his hand, grinning sheepishly even if his organs were hanging out. The male would simply shove them back in. Problem solved! Just a few stitches and he’d be fine.

Stitches solved every physical injury. He could vouch for that! It saved him time having to bother the healers. Of course, Yuhwa hadn’t been prone to telling anyone he’d even been injured. He was fine! Honest!

He was more than capable of handling himself, even if his certain abilities were killing him gradually. It was a price he was willing to pay a thousand times over. “We’ll need to update our defenses. Check them. Do something.” He muttered. His tone weary. “Something is killing these people. Ferals or not. We need to make sure something like this doesn’t happen so easily.”

The male bounced on the balls of his feet. His fingers unfurling to tap against his thighs in a non-rhythmic pattern.

“I have … something else to do—” Yuhwa paused. His head whipping to stare at the other with a worried chirp. His body inching closer at the lack of response. He knew how much the other could fall into their own head. It was noticeable in the subtle drop in temperature. Gooseflesh appearing along his skin despite being covered. The material doing nothing to hide his shivering frame. Pretty soon, I’m going to be a strawberry popsicle. He thought humorlessly. I wonder what that’d taste like? His nose scrunched up at the thought. He’d be a good desert for ferals, no doubt. The male radiated strawberries and cinnamon.

“Naomi?” He called. His head cocked, watching the other closely. “Things will work out in the end. I’m sure of it!” His throat vibrated with a purr. The male wanting nothing more than to comfort his second-in-command. He hated seeing them like this. It hurt. His heart thundering against his sternum with a soft keen.

Yuhwa reached out tentatively, fingers brushing attempting to brush against Naomi’s forearm, just below their elbow. Despite the shivers, he remained relatively warm. His head titled, bending sideways to watch the other. “We’ll be alright!” He chirped. His throat continuing to vibrate, letting out soothing purrs. “We’re in this together!” He grinned. His light blue hues vibrating with warmth.

“You think ferals can taste sweets? It’d be pretty boring if they couldn’t, don’t you think? Although what would they need that for? Sad, if you think about it.” He rambled. The male rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He hadn’t realized he’d gone a tad too far.

The pinkette let out a squawk, tumbling backward with a thump against the floor. He groaned, laying sprawled out. His light blue hues narrowing. Did he just—? His lips peeled into a sheepish grin. Uh-oh. He wasn’t too embarrassed.

His light blue hues large, blinking owlishly. He let out a quiet chirp, raising upward into a sitting position. His mask askew, showing a sliver of flesh along his cheek. He let out a loud laugh. “I forgot I was wearing heels.” He mused. The male shook his ankles at the statement, showing his calf-high boots that had a small heel attached. His fingers reached to brush the edges of his mask, glancing up at Naomi with a trill. “Let’s head back, mhm? I have flowers waiting for me.” He waved his arms. His lips curling into a bittersweet grimace. After all, he still needed to visit someone else.

thoughts speech​
AREN'T YOU?
 
SoulRider said:
He got to the command room and updated everyone on the meeting. "Attention! The meeting was... rather intriguing. For one, the leader of Serpent's Kiss, Beezlebub, has been killed." He let the news sink in for a moment before continuing. "The elders of Serpent's Kiss have appointed a new leader in her stead, Cazendra Virrer. While I don't have any problems with the change, Vincent had a bit of an outburst. Granted, he probably knew Beezle the best out of all us leaders."
Click to expand...

Carmine chuckled, “Some of these leaders come and go like the wind. Seriously, I barely had enough time to learn her favorite drink.“ He shook his head, “I will not allow that to happen with you my lord!” Carmine’s blissful face opened up, his eyes widening, “Even if I have to squeeze every last Featherworm dry, you will live on, my lord!” Carmine chuckled, his eyes turning red as his nose flared, “Speaking of walking health potions…” He raised his forefinger to the earbud in his ear.

“The herbal tea, no the medicinal one, no not the nightshade…well that might be amusing. Okay pair it with the…yes, perfect.” Carmine turned back towards his lord.

”Sorry my lord, I was making arrangements for after the debrief.”

SoulRider said:
He walked around the room with his hands behind his back. "That brings us to this matter. We suspect ferals might be getting out of the restricted zone. That's where I saw Vincent heading after the meeting was... abruptly adjourned. There are still leaders talking about things.“
Click to expand...

Carmine tapped his lip. “I have noticed an increase in mental instability. I find it odd that Vincent summoned all the leaders to a summit for a ten minute conversation and then leapt through a window and showed his powers in such a brash display. It’s quite out of vogue these days. Sure, a couple of hundred years ago where you could burst someone’s body like an over ripe watermelon and get a pat on the back.“ Carmine shook his head and sighed. “Not these days.“ He tapped his lip again. “Shall we invoke Article 2?” Carmine shrugged. “One leader is down and the others are mentally suspect. Ferals are overrunning the city, yadda yadda…” He nodded towards Undersecretary of Military Affairs, SkekAyuk.

SkekAyuk squawked once, ducking its head. “Civil police are no good, no good for this threat. Two legions of Doom Guard backed by aerial support could sweep, SWEEP the whole city clean, my lord!” SkekAyuk nodded, pecking at some idle parasites in its feathers.

“Exactly,” Carmine said, tapping his lip, “And we’ve never been allowed to let the Moon Wraiths on civilians let alone the Hounds of Tindolos. It’s been over a thousand years, and the Bloody Moon’s army has only grown more powerful with the marriage of technology and demonic art.”

SoulRider said:
“But in my opinion, I believe our time is better spent helping Vincent with investigating the restricted zone. “
Click to expand...

Carmine bowed. “Of course, we shall keep Martial Law on standby. SkekAyuk move the military to DEFCON 3 and make preparations for entering 2 should our lord will it.”

“Of course!” SkekAyuk squawked, “Of course!”


SoulRider said:
So that's where we're going, everyone. Once we arrive, Carmine and I will go into the restricted zone to look for Vincent.
Click to expand...

“Oh an intimate exploration, just the two of us! Perhaps we should bring a Hound or two to help flush out the quarry?” Carmine chewed on his lips as a wicked smiled bloomed on his lips. He was reminded of when it used to be legal to release and hunt fugitives, and all the lords of the day would compete over how many hearts they could claim. He sighed, realizing it’d been over a thousand years since he’d last had a hunt like that.

SoulRider said:
If you have any questions, ask them later. We need to get there as soon as possible." He turns to look at Carmine. "Once you've told the pilots to fly full speed ahead, join me in the waiting room. Everyone back to your stations!" He leaves the command room to go to the waiting room.
Click to expand...

Carmine’s eyes widened at the excitement and haste of his lord. Everyone rose and snapped smartly to attention as their lord stood and departed. It took several minutes to organize the local bureaucracy and clarify the chain of command to SkekAyuk. A few of the Skekis were over a thousand years old, and Carmine felt like it took as long to make them passable at military command. SkekAyuk was one of the better ones. Within five minutes all the barracks over the city went on to high alert. The reserve troops and levies were commanded to peak readiness. Military gear and logistics were reviewed and new purchase orders prepared, budgets expedited, and requisitions made. The fleet of air ships took to the sky and declared a no fly zone over the entire city and out to two miles around the city. Courts were notified of heightened readiness and need to impose harsher sentencing. All over an abnormal degree of heightened readiness was declared.

It only took a handful of minutes before Carmine joined his lord. Within the ready room was exquisitely decorated as a proper head-of-state room with ancient artifacts, weapons that his lord appreciated, and even that tattered old book he was reading neatly placed at the head of the table. On the left side two seats down was another place set out for Kralos Featherworm ( Mr. Skull Mr. Skull ). There was a hot cup of nightshade tea, a pot besides it in the finest china with various pastries, each infused with deadly poisons.

Carmine entered, bowed his lord, and stood behind and to the right, watching his lord eat, drink, and read with rapted attention while they waited for Kralos and the arrival.

A full pack of the Hounds of Tindalos appeared from the sharp corners of the ready room. They whined in hatred and fear in the presence of Carmine the Blood Rose, but he paid them no mind. Several approached Carmine and shot their needle proboscis into his flesh, exchanging nightmares and terror. Carmine conversed with them in the Language of Nightmares before turning to his lord. “Shall we take a pair? I was thinking of sending the rest off to mess with Sofia ( RoninN7 RoninN7 ). They get so agitated when shadow demons walk through the soft places of shadows, and it’s been awhile since they got to play with her.”

Screenshot_20171025-110312.jpg
 
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Black Rose second(s)-in-command
Fronter: Crimson
Starring: gmimperfecti gmimperfecti Darkbloom Darkbloom Nothingness Nothingness
​
The barracks seemed empty judging by the lack of any ruckus coming from them. Instead, the rest of the airship seemed to be bursting with activity as the crew prepared themselves for the little adventure they had in front of them. That's it, if they were allowed to disembark on the restricted zone. On one hand, Crimson had no doubt Asmodey and his loyal Carmine were going to investigate along with Vincent. But he underestimated their obvious villainous tendencies. After all, such an imposing airship was a better fit for a tyrant than for a hero. Such a sinister butler cult leader couldn't be up to no good. Not that he was very aware of such stereotypes, but he wasn't aware of how true they could come to be before stepping in front of the command room.

As soon as he heard the mentions of killing featherworms and the poisonous nightshade, he became painfully aware of the fact he, most probably, had been discovered. However, the conversation that followed caused him to furrow his eyebrow.

So, they thought insanity ran rampant across Haven's leadership. For as little he had known Vincent, he knew insane or not, he was a decent leader. But he knew himself, what his mind hid, and how he was but part of a greater system. Did they suspect of his disorder? Perhaps that was the case, perhaps they thought he was unfit for his role. Crimson gritted his teeth just from the thought of it. What would they know!

He was aware such a conspiracy wouldn't be left uncovered to his leader. Part of the conversation was recorded by his phone, at least the one he was quick enough to record.

gmimperfecti said:
Carmine tapped his lip, “I have noticed an increase in mental instability. I find it odd that Vincent summoned all the leaders to a summit for a ten minute conversation and then leapt through a window and showed his powers in such a brash display. It’s quite out of vogue these days. I remember a couple of hundred years ago where you could burst someone’s body like an over ripe watermelon and get a pat on the back.“ Carmine shook his head and sighed. “Not these days.“ He tapped his lip, “Shall we invoke Article 2?” Carmine shrugged, “One leader is down and the others are mentally suspect. Ferals are overrunning the city, yadda yadda…”
Click to expand...

As soon as he had the recording, he silently made his way towards the arsenal. But he knew they were aware of their presence. His unlimited data allowed him to send the audio as an encrypted message to both Vincent and his own assistant. Cloud data storage also was going to keep the information.

However, they so far didn't seem to plan what was technically treason, or any illegal activity, right? Just remove them from their positions. It was a shame how Crimson didn't record the preparations to the food which was gonna be used to poison him.

The arsenal was open once he found it, soldiers retrieving his equipment. He was unaware of the current state of the troops, but not only were the Special Forces whose deployment he had ordered before taking the streets and patrolling now, Blood Moon's military personnel was overseeing both land and sky. Perhaps to the common citizen this looked like a joint operation, but they were working under two different masters. A wrong turn of events could cause issues between the two military forces.

But as soon as one of those masters set foot on the arsenal, he was soon interrogated by one of the guards. "Might I know what's a civilian doing here?" She asked, and Crimson was soon to show Kralos' ID. "You might know me as Kralos Featherworm, Black Rose's second-in-command. I come to assist in a joint operation between clan leaders on the restricted zone."

Perhaps it was technically true. The guard took a look at his ID before thinking about her next move with such an important figure. But soon she decided to go safe. "I must take you before Blood Moon's leader, sir. We weren't informed of such an operation. Please come with me."

Damn. The stowaway adventure didn't last that long.

----
​
Soon the guard located her leader in the waiting room. After a proper reverence, Crimson was left alone with Asmodey, Carmine, and the hounds of Tindalos. In front of him was his seat. However, he looked at them with a defiant look. Such was this alter's nature. So far, they didn't have to know he listened to the conversation they held before.

His eyes traveled from one demon to the other, and then to the food served on the table, at the other side of Asmodey.

"I get a conflicting message from this meeting, Asmodey." He said. "On one hand, I understand I, as a stowaway on your airship, am not welcome. On the other, you seem to have prepared and served the most delightful pastries just for me."

He still didn't seem to take a seat, at least not until he'd be told to by the leader. He knew he wasn't meant to eat that food, lest his death would come sooner than later.
 
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The hounds of tindalos slightly unnerved him, especially the language of nightmares. He had never liked having nightmares, being one of the few things he couldn't stand about life. "Certainly, if we can get them past the guards. I know only leaders and second in commands are allowed in the restricted zone, but I don't know about the hounds." He was almost tempted to pet one but refrained because he didn't want to lose a hand. "Mess with Sofia, you say? As long as they don't cause anyone any harm, that should be fine." He picked up the tattered book and looked through the pages for a few moments before the Black Rose second came along, escorted by one of his soldiers. "Good day, Kralos. If you feel like it, you can sit." He waits to see what Kralos will choose for a moment, and then continues. "When you have a conflict, that means that there are truths that have to be addressed on each side of the conflict. And when you have a conflict, then it's an educational process to try to resolve the conflict. And to resolve that, you have to get people on both sides of the conflict involved so that they can dialogue." gmimperfecti gmimperfecti Mr. Skull Mr. Skull
 




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  • /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
    You didn't go through all that for nothing. Keep fighting.


    Criad​






/* ------ right side ------ */

Fate often hit the wrong people. It had Beezle now in between it's fangs and if he could, Criad would bring her back. He'd never seen Cazendra so… distant. Her voice had a slight whisper to it and her eyes were empty when she had returned from the meeting. It was odd not to see Beezle at her side. Even odder to now arrange her funeral in mere hours.

"Criad, where do the flowers go?" The green humanoid snapped his head to a servant. He blinked a few times as if she had asked him why the moon was created. What flowers- oh! Yes, right. Those flowers. The flowers for Beezle. Criad knew what Caz had in mind. When they were in her office, she gratefully shared that his leader had her funeral already planned. Did she knew she was going to die? Or was it the sheer knowledge and simple logic a leading demon had to consider her head rolling one day?

Criad shook his head, his long ears flapping. "On the trees. Surround the pond with them."
Golden flowers, that grew in the plantage on the headquarters. That plantage was Beezle's playground. Criad wondered if he might take it over from now on or if Caz would bother. Well, at least not now. Clearly.

"Criad, do you know where the thingies are?"

Servant after servant came to him whilst he strolled through the main front yard. A huge and wide circle-shaped yard that granted entrance to every building. It seemed so small with all the staff hoggling it. Another bunch hurried from the main building. He guessed Caz had thrown them out. What did she do in there? Had she seen… Beezle already? Criad desperatly wanted to go inside. It made his bones itch to leave his friend there. Gods, Caz had helped him so dearly and what did he do? Nothing. He did nothing.

"Criad, what are we supposed to do?"

He adverted his sight from the building as the new group arrived. A male with brown hair stood before him, the rest of the servants and guards stood behind him. The goblin took a look around. "Well… you could help the flower-group to set everything up?" He nodded and the moment he turned away, a female behind him popped up. "Why do we bury her already? Why did Ms. Virrer order that? Why is she not here?"
Criad's tongue alone tangled by just listening to her. Not to speak of his head- what would he tell her? 'I don't know'? That would inflict terribly on Caz and him. Ugh, why just why didn't she communicate with him!

"Cazendra and Beezle had a strong bond," he began and regretted it right away. What came after this? "And-" The female's eyes bored into him, into his literal soul. "And uhm-" Now he stuttered! No, no, no.
Criad took a calming breath. Something Caz did practically all day long. "Would you like for your loved ones to not get peace as fast as possible?" She seemed to let that question sink in. Her gaze softened slightly.

"I know Ms. Virrer can do this." Criad tilted his head. Do what exactly…? "I think she will lead us well. All of us believe in her." He highly doubted that but yes. Yes, Caz had any capability to manage a territory. After all, she did that already for the past years! Criad had to smile a little but the female had already scurried after the others. Caz was not alone. She had him and now the people of Serpent's Kiss behind her.
"Criad!" He twirled around to a younger demon. He looked in the age of a child and was still bigger than Criad. What a damn cheek! He tried to not look dissapointed too much. "The others can't find the priest."

Oh, double bubble cheese cake!

How can someone loose a priest. A literal demon. Cazendra would absolutely throttle him if this didn't work out. Criad fadened. What if… he, too, was killed? He shook his head.
No. No, if that was the case someone would have found him already. Which meant the male had to be somewhere else? Or perhaps he was only using the toilett and everyone around his was a damned idiot. Criad favored latest the most.

"I will take a look," he blurted and allowed his little feed to carry him from the main yard. Now that every material has been acquired and found (except for a whole ass demon) everyone tried to set it up as soon as possible. By the way they molved, their numbers… He shot an quick message to Caz before continuing to the priest's residence. It was a little side building attached to the temple. Other than the sages, who protected the scribes and old documents, once a day the priest worked in the main hall of tnhe temple. He was responsible for all the rituals. As he would also transfer the powers of the clan to her. Judging how fast things proceed, he supposed it would be tomorrow right away.
The temple rose before him from the ground. Three towers spiraled to the skies, the one in the middle being the largest and set more to the front. The white building equaled in its meszmerising affect just like the main building behind him. But Criad has seen it a thousand times by now and the stinking scent of the sages brought this whole area to a restricted zone for him. Ah. They barely scrambled from their sacred grounds. He was curious why they arrived so quickly at the scene today.

He drifted to the right, to the priest. At least he, too, disliked the sages. One plus point he gained from Criad's side. But he barely bothered with the temple, just as much as he bothered to knock. The attached temple side was empty. Its white walls dunked into the orange warm light from the countless candles lined up. The corridor led to the rooms in the back. Criad followed.
The demon enjoyed his quiet, little own zone. He also enjoyed to be ancient, apparently. No lamp, nothing. As if Criad had just traveled back in time. He asked himself if Caz could summon her thunder in here. If not, he might have considered to lure her in here and tell her how awful this one perfume from her smelled.
His nostrils flared. The stinging scent of death was not apparent here. A good sign? Perhaps? Ah well, he would see. Just no more disaster, please.

The rooms materialized before him. Criad didn't want to particulary go any further. He poked his head forward and called, "Excuse me? Ehmwy?" Nothing.
Hm. Well, nothing he could do. Where could he get a new priest in a span of three hours- His ears perked. Some sort of growl, just more breath and lower- was that a snore. Criad almost rolled his eyes out of his skull. No way. He came all this way here- The priest was asleep. After this chaos was done, he would kindly hint Cazendra to a few fire-able staff members.
Criad looked through three doors before finding the bedroom in the middle. The male, old and rotting, laid on his side, the back faced to him. The humanoid noticed the two bottles of wine. Nothing for a grown demon, but in cases like this… enough to ignore the reality. Criad sighed and decided to nodge him awake. The male startled slightly but soon relaxed once more.

"The funeral is in three hours. Make sure you are there on time." Criad never saw the demon fighting before. He almost assumed he was… peaceful. Yet again the sages— the sages— gave him an entire building without so much as a single complain. He didn't want to find out why that was.
The errupting groan simply gave him reassurance that the priester had heard him and understood. With that, he returned to the scenes of the funeral preperations.

People bombarded him with all kinds of questions. Where was that, where were those, where did these go. All those details anyone would have overlooked. But everyone, including him, knew Cazendra's current mood. No one dared to impact it more and cause some sort of little apocalypse. He answered each with calmness and a little smile.
As everything began to run smoothly, Criad stole himself away from the scene. Only an hour left now and Caz was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't particulary hard to track the female. He found the white head in her office. But what he saw… Criad closed the door behind him.

Cazendra's hair stood in every direction, her eyes almost popped from her sockets. The entire office had been messed up. Folders, papers, broken glass, a broken lamp. As if there had been a fight. In the middle of all this stood Cazendra Virrer gasping for air. Criad did not ignore the red circled under her eyes.

"I was seconds away," his old friend hushed through her teeth. "Mere fucking seconds. And she died. I am… I failed."
Failure. She often said this word. Though only Beezle knew of her background and she left Criad to wonder what happened outside the city walls. He could only assume that she lost someone perhaps. With care, Criad stepped closer. "You know that is not true."

"How!" She flung another pile of papers around. Cazendra pointed sharply at herself. "How is that not true! I was here, Criad! Right here." And the murder slipped in and out under my nose was the rest of that sentence.

"So? Do we not have guards?"

Cazendra plopped into her chair, her face buried in her palms. "I don't want this. This- I can't—"

"Yes you can. Why couldn't you?"


He saw those caramel, syrupy eyes glancing at him. Criad flawlessy jumped onto the table and sat in front of her. "The murderer got in but not out. After this funeral we can catch him, okay?"

"How... are the preperations going?"

"Nearly finished. You should get ready now. I will come and get you when everything is set, okay?"
Cazendra wiped her face and only gave him a nod. He hoped she could mourn in peace soon. First her closest friend and better half died, then this damned meeting and now the funeral, an investigation and the press- the press!

"Oh yeah," Criad pulled at the collar of his shirt. "The press awaits you right after the funeral. Do you know what you will tell them?"

Again, only a nod. The goblin understood and left her alone for now. Who knows? If Beezle had been still alive, perhaps they would have gone shopping by now. Perhaps Caz would laugh over one of Beezle's stupid jokes.
His own tears haunted him now. In a matter of seconds he batted them away. This would never be again. No more of Beezle's stupid jokes, no more shopping tours and no more book-hoarding. He knew that, he knew— but his heart rejected it. Reality had to be different. It just had to. And once he stepped outside he saw it wasn't. A black rug lead into the gardens behind the main building. Beezle and Cas created their own space back there. The irony that one of them would rest there eternally. Criad hoped Beezle's soul could enjoy the pond a little.


A servant beckoned him to follow her. So far, so good. Everything was set up perfectly. The roses at the tree, the pile of wood stacked before the bond and a few religious relics beside it. Which meant the priest made it… He shouldn't have been confused in the first place. The entire place was filled and fitting. Just like he had imagined it.
The goblin, despite being smaller than everyone, managed to order them all down to seats. All they needed now was their new leader. He fumbled for his phone and had it unlocked. In that very moment his eyes fell on white hair in a dark gown. A jacket and fitting trousers kept in a darkish tone. Talk about the devil herself!

Criad watched Cazendra. She crept around, her eyes fixated on the forest around her. Her eyes glanced to the ground as if she remembered something that blew a strike on her heart. Everyone had turned to her and stood now, greeting their new leader with a bow. Caz chuckled, "No need for that."
And she kept walking, each step another challenge. They looked so forced. Behind her came three other figures.
He reconized the cranky, bent demons right away. His nose crumbled a little, especially as they took Cazendra's left side at the front. An utter silence ruled now. Not even nature dared to even let a leaf make noise.

The same path he and the others came was walked again. This time by Ehmwy the priest. He wore a white gown with golden lines and musters. In his two hands he held a golden ball and in the other a golden dagger. His steps were gracefully and prudent. Shortly behind him followed a coffin. No one carried it but the magic that sometimes flared blue at the sides.
He didn't dare to catch a glance at Caz. Not that his body would have moved anyways. In that coffin laid the friend he'd seen laugh just yesterday. Not even twentyfour hours ago he had talked with her about the terrible tea the kitchen served lately. All that was left was in there.

The coffin floated on top of the wooden pile. In the corner of his eye, Criad saw Cazendra. She may have stood still and soundless, but the slight, barely noticable scent of blood filled his nose. He took a closer look. The female had digged her nails into her hand again, her knuckles already running white.


The priest halted to look at her as well. Cazendra stepped forward and turned to the staff.


"Today we lost a beloved soul," she began, her voice as raw as a stone. "The murder is still on the loose, but there is no escape. We will get revenge, we will get justice for Beezle's death." Agreeing noises errupted from the crowd. "But now we have collected ourselves here to send her to her last journey."
Cazendra turned to the coffin, to the friend that laid inside. "You wished to return to what you have created." The pond and the little forest. Beezle had done all of this. "And here I will follow your wish. May your soul rest and not stay in this world with a grudge."


She got onto her knee, bowing the deepest she has ever gone for. Criad only bowed his upper body and so did the rest. All the eyes were set to the ground now. His ears dropped at the fuming sound of fire errupting. The priest had started the ritual of freeing Beezle's soul. One of the old fashioned traditions the previous leader had strongly believed in. No wonder Caz, who also saw this as nonsense, had actually ordered this.
Criad looked a little bit to the fire. As his eyes wandered, they had to stop at the sages. The eldest did not bow. He watched the fire, watched the body burning to ashes. He grit his teeth but decided to ignore it and pay his respect by looking at the ground.
Until the priest called out some forgotten tongue. Every attendant slowly got up and Cazendra fixated the male. He brought the fire to an end and extracted ashes from the pile with some sort of magic trick. Whilst holding up one hand to hold the ashes, the golden ball came from his pocket. Phantom hands opened it in the middle and the ashes flew inside. Caz approached him and took the lower half with Beezle's… well, remaints?

Criad didn't hold his tears any longer, just like many other staff members. She was gone. That was the final straw, the final act in their world. There was no going back.

The priest offered her the dagger now. Caz took it and slit across her palm. Three precise blood drops rained into the lower ball half. The cutted hand fell to her side, just far away from the golden container in the other hand. The priest closed the ball and gestured to the pond. Caz's stomach raised and flattened slowly before she slowly closed the distance to the water and herself.
She lifted the ball to the skies first before kneeling once more. This time both of her knees struck the ground. Criad saw her mouth moving. Though he didn't made out what she said. He didn't want to, either. That was Caz's personal thing between her and Beezle.
The ball was carefully rolled into the pond. Beezle's grave was her passion and love— the water, the resemblence of her clan power. A reminder who she was, who she were and what she could do. It was her home and sanctum, now for eternity.
The crowd held their breath and expected Cazendra to get up and say something. But Criad could see it. The way her body tensed, her muscles trembled. Caz had no will to stand now and face the clan. He turned to them in her stead.

"We should now give the soul time to settle," he called out to them. After a few exchanged and glances, the staff left in silence. The priest was the first to follow him as well as the two younger (more or less) sages. Criad turned to Caz, only to witness how the elder tried to approach her. With some swift and quick placement of his feet, he put himself in his way.

"Ms. Virrer is busy," he bit out. The sage blinked at him.

"It is only a discussion on what to do next. I will—" He tried to scooch away from Criad. Again, he stepped into his way.

"I didn't know sages had any power over the leader? If Ms. Virrer has any questions or troubles I will make sure to perhaps mention you."

Oh, the sage cursed him inside. Criad could see every word and phrase he would've loved to spit at him in his eyes. After long seconds, the elder turned on his heels and stormed off with a muttering madness. Only now he realized he has been holding his breath in.

Criad looked at Caz, who was still kneeling and staring at the spot the ball vanished at. No, she would talk once she was ready.
He decided to wait at a tree further away. Today he lost one friend, he wouldn't lose another. After all the murderer was still alive and gods knew what his motive was. Sure, in a normal state Cazendra could have helped herself. But this was not normal and Cazendra was not Cazendra.
For hours he waited. For hours she stayed and stared out into nothing.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.




Fate often hit the wrong people. It had Beezle now in between it's fangs and if he could, Criad would bring her back. He'd never seen Cazendra so… distant. Her voice had a slight whisper to it and her eyes were empty when she had returned from the meeting. It was odd not to see Beezle at her side. Even odder to now arrange her funeral in mere hours.

"Criad, where do the flowers go?" The green humanoid snapped his head to a servant. He blinked a few times as if she had asked him why the moon was created. What flowers- oh! Yes, right. Those flowers. The flowers for Beezle. Criad knew what Caz had in mind. When they were in her office, she gratefully shared that his leader had her funeral already planned. Did she knew she was going to die? Or was it the sheer knowledge and simple logic a leading demon had to consider her head rolling one day?

Criad shook his head, his long ears flapping. "On the trees. Surround the pond with them."
Golden flowers, that grew in the plantage on the headquarters. That plantage was Beezle's playground. Criad wondered if he might take it over from now on or if Caz would bother. Well, at least not now. Clearly.

"Criad, do you know where the thingies are?"

Servant after servant came to him whilst he strolled through the main front yard. A huge and wide circle-shaped yard that granted entrance to every building. It seemed so small with all the staff hoggling it. Another bunch hurried from the main building. He guessed Caz had thrown them out. What did she do in there? Had she seen… Beezle already? Criad desperatly wanted to go inside. It made his bones itch to leave his friend there. Gods, Caz had helped him so dearly and what did he do? Nothing. He did nothing.

"Criad, what are we supposed to do?"

He adverted his sight from the building as the new group arrived. A male with brown hair stood before him, the rest of the servants and guards stood behind him. The goblin took a look around. "Well… you could help the flower-group to set everything up?" He nodded and the moment he turned away, a female behind him popped up. "Why do we bury her already? Why did Ms. Virrer order that? Why is she not here?"
Criad's tongue alone tangled by just listening to her. Not to speak of his head- what would he tell her? 'I don't know'? That would inflict terribly on Caz and him. Ugh, why just why didn't she communicate with him!

"Cazendra and Beezle had a strong bond," he began and regretted it right away. What came after this? "And-" The female's eyes bored into him, into his literal soul. "And uhm-" Now he stuttered! No, no, no.
Criad took a calming breath. Something Caz did practically all day long. "Would you like for your loved ones to not get peace as fast as possible?" She seemed to let that question sink in. Her gaze softened slightly.

"I know Ms. Virrer can do this." Criad tilted his head. Do what exactly…? "I think she will lead us well. All of us believe in her." He highly doubted that but yes. Yes, Caz had any capability to manage a territory. After all, she did that already for the past years! Criad had to smile a little but the female had already scurried after the others. Caz was not alone. She had him and now the people of Serpent's Kiss behind her.
"Criad!" He twirled around to a younger demon. He looked in the age of a child and was still bigger than Criad. What a damn cheek! He tried to not look dissapointed too much. "The others can't find the priest."

Oh, double bubble cheese cake!

How can someone loose a priest. A literal demon. Cazendra would absolutely throttle him if this didn't work out. Criad fadened. What if… he, too, was killed? He shook his head.
No. No, if that was the case someone would have found him already. Which meant the male had to be somewhere else? Or perhaps he was only using the toilett and everyone around his was a damned idiot. Criad favored latest the most.

"I will take a look," he blurted and allowed his little feed to carry him from the main yard. Now that every material has been acquired and found (except for a whole ass demon) everyone tried to set it up as soon as possible. By the way they molved, their numbers… He shot an quick message to Caz before continuing to the priest's residence. It was a little side building attached to the temple. Other than the sages, who protected the scribes and old documents, once a day the priest worked in the main hall of tnhe temple. He was responsible for all the rituals. As he would also transfer the powers of the clan to her. Judging how fast things proceed, he supposed it would be tomorrow right away.
The temple rose before him from the ground. Three towers spiraled to the skies, the one in the middle being the largest and set more to the front. The white building equaled in its meszmerising affect just like the main building behind him. But Criad has seen it a thousand times by now and the stinking scent of the sages brought this whole area to a restricted zone for him. Ah. They barely scrambled from their sacred grounds. He was curious why they arrived so quickly at the scene today.

He drifted to the right, to the priest. At least he, too, disliked the sages. One plus point he gained from Criad's side. But he barely bothered with the temple, just as much as he bothered to knock. The attached temple side was empty. Its white walls dunked into the orange warm light from the countless candles lined up. The corridor led to the rooms in the back. Criad followed.
The demon enjoyed his quiet, little own zone. He also enjoyed to be ancient, apparently. No lamp, nothing. As if Criad had just traveled back in time. He asked himself if Caz could summon her thunder in here. If not, he might have considered to lure her in here and tell her how awful this one perfume from her smelled.
His nostrils flared. The stinging scent of death was not apparent here. A good sign? Perhaps? Ah well, he would see. Just no more disaster, please.

The rooms materialized before him. Criad didn't want to particulary go any further. He poked his head forward and called, "Excuse me? Ehmwy?" Nothing.
Hm. Well, nothing he could do. Where could he get a new priest in a span of three hours- His ears perked. Some sort of growl, just more breath and lower- was that a snore. Criad almost rolled his eyes out of his skull. No way. He came all this way here- The priest was asleep. After this chaos was done, he would kindly hint Cazendra to a few fire-able staff members.
Criad looked through three doors before finding the bedroom in the middle. The male, old and rotting, laid on his side, the back faced to him. The humanoid noticed the two bottles of wine. Nothing for a grown demon, but in cases like this… enough to ignore the reality. Criad sighed and decided to nodge him awake. The male startled slightly but soon relaxed once more.

"The funeral is in three hours. Make sure you are there on time." Criad never saw the demon fighting before. He almost assumed he was… peaceful. Yet again the sages— the sages— gave him an entire building without so much as a single complain. He didn't want to find out why that was.
The errupting groan simply gave him reassurance that the priester had heard him and understood. With that, he returned to the scenes of the funeral preperations.

People bombarded him with all kinds of questions. Where was that, where were those, where did these go. All those details anyone would have overlooked. But everyone, including him, knew Cazendra's current mood. No one dared to impact it more and cause some sort of little apocalypse. He answered each with calmness and a little smile.
As everything began to run smoothly, Criad stole himself away from the scene. Only an hour left now and Caz was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't particulary hard to track the female. He found the white head in her office. But what he saw… Criad closed the door behind him.

Cazendra's hair stood in every direction, her eyes almost popped from her sockets. The entire office had been messed up. Folders, papers, broken glass, a broken lamp. As if there had been a fight. In the middle of all this stood Cazendra Virrer gasping for air. Criad did not ignore the red circled under her eyes.

"I was seconds away," his old friend hushed through her teeth. "Mere fucking seconds. And she died. I am… I failed."
Failure. She often said this word. Though only Beezle knew of her background and she left Criad to wonder what happened outside the city walls. He could only assume that she lost someone perhaps. With care, Criad stepped closer. "You know that is not true."

"How!" She flung another pile of papers around. Cazendra pointed sharply at herself. "How is that not true! I was here, Criad! Right here." And the murder slipped in and out under my nose was the rest of that sentence.

"So? Do we not have guards?"

Cazendra plopped into her chair, her face buried in her palms. "I don't want this. This- I can't—"

"Yes you can. Why couldn't you?"


He saw those caramel, syrupy eyes glancing at him. Criad flawlessy jumped onto the table and sat in front of her. "The murderer got in but not out. After this funeral we can catch him, okay?"

"How... are the preperations going?"

"Nearly finished. You should get ready now. I will come and get you when everything is set, okay?"
Cazendra wiped her face and only gave him a nod. He hoped she could mourn in peace soon. First her closest friend and better half died, then this damned meeting and now the funeral, an investigation and the press- the press!

"Oh yeah," Criad pulled at the collar of his shirt. "The press awaits you right after the funeral. Do you know what you will tell them?"

Again, only a nod. The goblin understood and left her alone for now. Who knows? If Beezle had been still alive, perhaps they would have gone shopping by now. Perhaps Caz would laugh over one of Beezle's stupid jokes.
His own tears haunted him now. In a matter of seconds he batted them away. This would never be again. No more of Beezle's stupid jokes, no more shopping tours and no more book-hoarding. He knew that, he knew— but his heart rejected it. Reality had to be different. It just had to. And once he stepped outside he saw it wasn't. A black rug lead into the gardens behind the main building. Beezle and Cas created their own space back there. The irony that one of them would rest there eternally. Criad hoped Beezle's soul could enjoy the pond a little.


A servant beckoned him to follow her. So far, so good. Everything was set up perfectly. The roses at the tree, the pile of wood stacked before the bond and a few religious relics beside it. Which meant the priest made it… He shouldn't have been confused in the first place. The entire place was filled and fitting. Just like he had imagined it.
The goblin, despite being smaller than everyone, managed to order them all down to seats. All they needed now was their new leader. He fumbled for his phone and had it unlocked. In that very moment his eyes fell on white hair in a dark gown. A jacket and fitting trousers kept in a darkish tone. Talk about the devil herself!

Criad watched Cazendra. She crept around, her eyes fixated on the forest around her. Her eyes glanced to the ground as if she remembered something that blew a strike on her heart. Everyone had turned to her and stood now, greeting their new leader with a bow. Caz chuckled, "No need for that."
And she kept walking, each step another challenge. They looked so forced. Behind her came three other figures.
He reconized the cranky, bent demons right away. His nose crumbled a little, especially as they took Cazendra's left side at the front. An utter silence ruled now. Not even nature dared to even let a leaf make noise.

The same path he and the others came was walked again. This time by Ehmwy the priest. He wore a white gown with golden lines and musters. In his two hands he held a golden ball and in the other a golden dagger. His steps were gracefully and prudent. Shortly behind him followed a coffin. No one carried it but the magic that sometimes flared blue at the sides.
He didn't dare to catch a glance at Caz. Not that his body would have moved anyways. In that coffin laid the friend he'd seen laugh just yesterday. Not even twentyfour hours ago he had talked with her about the terrible tea the kitchen served lately. All that was left was in there.

The coffin floated on top of the wooden pile. In the corner of his eye, Criad saw Cazendra. She may have stood still and soundless, but the slight, barely noticable scent of blood filled his nose. He took a closer look. The female had digged her nails into her hand again, her knuckles already running white.


The priest halted to look at her as well. Cazendra stepped forward and turned to the staff.


"Today we lost a beloved soul," she began, her voice as raw as a stone. "The murder is still on the loose, but there is no escape. We will get revenge, we will get justice for Beezle's death." Agreeing noises errupted from the crowd. "But now we have collected ourselves here to send her to her last journey."
Cazendra turned to the coffin, to the friend that laid inside. "You wished to return to what you have created." The pond and the little forest. Beezle had done all of this. "And here I will follow your wish. May your soul rest and not stay in this world with a grudge."


She got onto her knee, bowing the deepest she has ever gone for. Criad only bowed his upper body and so did the rest. All the eyes were set to the ground now. His ears dropped at the fuming sound of fire errupting. The priest had started the ritual of freeing Beezle's soul. One of the old fashioned traditions the previous leader had strongly believed in. No wonder Caz, who also saw this as nonsense, had actually ordered this.
Criad looked a little bit to the fire. As his eyes wandered, they had to stop at the sages. The eldest did not bow. He watched the fire, watched the body burning to ashes. He grit his teeth but decided to ignore it and pay his respect by looking at the ground.
Until the priest called out some forgotten tongue. Every attendant slowly got up and Cazendra fixated the male. He brought the fire to an end and extracted ashes from the pile with some sort of magic trick. Whilst holding up one hand to hold the ashes, the golden ball came from his pocket. Phantom hands opened it in the middle and the ashes flew inside. Caz approached him and took the lower half with Beezle's… well, remaints?

Criad didn't hold his tears any longer, just like many other staff members. She was gone. That was the final straw, the final act in their world. There was no going back.

The priest offered her the dagger now. Caz took it and slit across her palm. Three precise blood drops rained into the lower ball half. The cutted hand fell to her side, just far away from the golden container in the other hand. The priest closed the ball and gestured to the pond. Caz's stomach raised and flattened slowly before she slowly closed the distance to the water and herself.
She lifted the ball to the skies first before kneeling once more. This time both of her knees struck the ground. Criad saw her mouth moving. Though he didn't made out what she said. He didn't want to, either. That was Caz's personal thing between her and Beezle.
The ball was carefully rolled into the pond. Beezle's grave was her passion and love— the water, the resemblence of her clan power. A reminder who she was, who she were and what she could do. It was her home and sanctum, now for eternity.
The crowd held their breath and expected Cazendra to get up and say something. But Criad could see it. The way her body tensed, her muscles trembled. Caz had no will to stand now and face the clan. He turned to them in her stead.


"We should now give the soul time to settle," he called out to them. After a few exchanged and glances, the staff left in silence. The priest was the first to follow him as well as the two younger (more or less) sages. Criad turned to Caz, only to witness how the elder tried to approach her. With some swift and quick placement of his feet, he put himself in his way.

"Ms. Virrer is busy," he bit out. The sage blinked at him.

"It is only a discussion on what to do next. I will—" He tried to scooch away from Criad. Again, he stepped into his way.

"I didn't know sages had any power over the leader? If Ms. Virrer has any questions or troubles I will make sure to perhaps mention you."

Oh, the sage cursed him inside. Criad could see every word and phrase he would've loved to spit at him in his eyes. After long seconds, the elder turned on his heels and stormed off with a muttering madness. Only now he realized he has been holding his breath in.

Criad looked at Caz, who was still kneeling and staring at the spot the ball vanished at. No, she would talk once she was ready.
He decided to wait at a tree further away. Today he lost one friend, he wouldn't lose another. After all the murderer was still alive and gods knew what his motive was. Sure, in a normal state Cazendra could have helped herself. But this was not normal and Cazendra was not Cazendra.
For hours he waited. For hours she stayed and stared out into nothing.
 
Last edited:
mood :
Concerned and overwhelmed

location :
Meeting room
outfit :
more masculine appearing on the current day, wearing a white loose poet's style shirt, partially button up with black pants and black slightly heeled boots to match with a black leather harness top over top of their shirt, and layered black belts and silver chains.
mentions :
blue tea blue tea Nothingness Nothingness

interactions :
Yuhwa
Kuroda
n a o m i
Naomi would be staring blankly at Yuhwa as he spoke, processing the words he was saying but not fully listening, only nodding occasionally until he would have touched him. It was almost instantly that the cold disappeared and everything thawed out once again. They blink as they heard the encouraging words from their superior and the corners of their mouth twitched a little, perhaps a smile but nothing beyond that showed as they weren't quick enough to catch Yuhwa. They would quickly try to react, but given their time, even they weren't quick enough at the moment.

"I...the ferals would be lucky to even get a bite but, I'm sure they would think you are plenty sweet," they said, letting out a huff of laughter, as Naomi would reach down and help the pink-hair leader up, clearing their through now that there were out of their own head, able to fully process all that was said to them before.

"I see. Yes, let's go back. You can...get your flowers and I will check on our engineers and see what they have come up with recently and talk to some head officers to increase security all around. If I might be so bold..." They paused for a moment. Naomi knew this was a bold thing to say but it was for 2 reasons, one good one and one, more selfish reason as well. "I do not think it would be wise for anyone to face feral's alone, even now. Even the fact that the Black Rose leader is out there alone right now is very concerning to me, though I'm sure he is fine. I know you will be too but..." they paused again. It was something the two had in common, caring too much about other people, maybe for different reasons but, still on the same page, though it could get complicated at times. "I'd rather be safe. We cannot risk another leader dying."

It would be much easier if a 2nd in command like myself died first before a leader... they thought, looking down at their feet for a moment before they would start walking to the door. Going to hold the door open for Yuhwa to begin leading them back to headquarters. There was a lot to get done, and Naomi had begun making a mental list of things to do, wondering why Yuhwa had gotten flowers, more so when. Though perhaps that was for another time, still concerned for Yuhwa but, wasn't sure how to properly express such things, other than, plainly expressing what they had to do.

More than anything else, maybe something that Yuhwa wasn't even thinking of is that this death of the leader might be a warning. A warning of something bad, and it could happen to anyone. If someone or something could kill a leader just like that, then everyone was at risk. In short, they must keep an eye on Yuhwa, as strong and stubborn as the pink-haired leader can be, they are prone to accidents and getting into trouble. They would have to be there to protect them. They were one of the few good things to have come into Naomi's life, and they weren't going to let them die, not now. Not now for themselves, but also for Ravinca. Whatever was out there, it must mean its strong meaning, Naomi must train even harder.

Cut back on sleep, and add a nap somewhere mid-day, to add room for more training, perhaps reach out to Vincent about my own ability, ours are rather similar, and maybe he could help make it stronger.

"Also, we have the technology, please try to remember to shoot me a message if a meeting or something urgent comes up."

coded by reveriee.


Naomi would be staring blankly at Yuhwa as he spoke, processing the words he was saying but not fully listening, only nodding occasionally until he would have touched him. It was almost instantly that the cold disappeared and everything thawed out once again. They blink as they heard the encouraging words from their superior and the corners of their mouth twitched a little, perhaps a smile but nothing beyond that showed as they weren't quick enough to catch Yuhwa. They would quickly try to react, but given their time, even they weren't quick enough at the moment.

"I...the ferals would be lucky to even get a bite but, I'm sure they would think you are plenty sweet," they said, letting out a huff of laughter, as Naomi would reach down and help the pink-hair leader up, clearing their through now that there were out of their own head, able to fully process all that was said to them before.

"I see. Yes, let's go back. You can...get your flowers and I will check on our engineers and see what they have come up with recently and talk to some head officers to increase security all around. If I might be so bold..." They paused for a moment. Naomi knew this was a bold thing to say but it was for 2 reasons, one good one and one, more selfish reason as well. "I do not think it would be wise for anyone to face feral's alone, even now. Even the fact that the Black Rose leader is out there alone right now is very concerning to me, though I'm sure he is fine. I know you will be too but..." they paused again. It was something the two had in common, caring too much about other people, maybe for different reasons but, still on the same page, though it could get complicated at times. "I'd rather be safe. We cannot risk another leader dying."

It would be much easier if a 2nd in command like myself died first before a leader... they thought, looking down at their feet for a moment before they would start walking to the door. Going to hold the door open for Yuhwa to begin leading them back to headquarters. There was a lot to get done, and Naomi had begun making a mental list of things to do, wondering why Yuhwa had gotten flowers, more so when. Though perhaps that was for another time, still concerned for Yuhwa but, wasn't sure how to properly express such things, other than, plainly expressing what they had to do.

More than anything else, maybe something that Yuhwa wasn't even thinking of is that this death of the leader might be a warning. A warning of something bad, and it could happen to anyone. If someone or something could kill a leader just like that, then everyone was at risk. In short, they must keep an eye on Yuhwa, as strong and stubborn as the pink-haired leader can be, they are prone to accidents and getting into trouble. They would have to be there to protect them. They were one of the few good things to have come into Naomi's life, and they weren't going to let them die, not now. Not now for themselves, but also for Ravinca. Whatever was out there, it must mean its strong meaning, Naomi must train even harder.

Cut back on sleep, and add a nap somewhere mid-day, to add room for more training, perhaps reach out to Vincent about my own ability, ours are rather similar, and maybe he could help make it stronger.

"Also, we have the technology, please try to remember to shoot me a message if a meeting or something urgent comes up."
 
Black Rose Leader
Vincent Zhao
Mood: Panic
Haven, Contaminated Zone
With the battle waging on for what felt like forever, it appeared as though Vincent was never able to so much as land a single strike upon his opponent other than a few close skims every so often. Aside from that, he was being pummeled and beaten by this one strange speaking feral which had never been heard-of. Unfortunately, Vincent had not brought his weapon with him, believing that the situation would not be dire enough that he would've needed such a thing to deal with a bunch of ferals, considering the belief that they would always remain unintelligent. Of course, with the situation that he was in at the moment however, this clearly was no longer the case as Vincent had to result in attempting to escape whenever possible by heading through the ruins that littered all of the restricted zone. During the fight and the attempts at escape every so often, the lack of other ferals hadn't even come across Vincent's mind although he knew well enough that in the back of his head, he was sure that he was going to be attacked at some point sooner or later from a blind spot.

Eventually, he found his way into an old, abandoned remains of a church just to close the large wooden doors behind him before pressing his back against it and sliding himself down to the floor. Holding onto his left shoulder while wincing in pain, blood dripped from a massive gapping wound on his arm while his arm laid limp in his grip. The cause of this was due to a swiping kick that the feral had sent towards him earlier that was sure to have enough force to do severe amounts of damage elsewhere if he hadn't raised his left arm to block and take the full blunt of the attack, even if it had caused him to break his bones in his arm in the process.
Sitting there, Vincent panted heavily while catching his breath, his pondered on his thoughts of what sort of plan or strategy he could come up with to defeat the feral as the idea of rushing back to the barrier entrance was completely out of the question at the moment. With something this powerful coming after him and if he could barely hold his own against the creature, what would a bunch of guards and scholars be able to do to defend themselves against this kind of a threat.

"Wh..Whats going on...H-How is thi-this possible?...Ferals are supposed to be wild...they're supposed to be--" In the midst of his whispering voice, his statement was immediately interrupted as another voice spoke up from above the ceiling of the building. "Predictable?.." Just as the other voice completed the sentence, the entirety of the ceiling collapsed only to reveal the sight of the feral that he had been battling this entire time. The sight of how quickly the creature found his location and the unexpected arrival caught Vincent off guard to the point that it gave the feral the opportunity to slam its foot into the wound upon the Black Rose leader's abdomen. Immediately after, the creature began to stomp down upon Vincent's wound with an immense amount of force and strength till the entire church began to shake and crumble around the duo little by little.

With the sheer amount of pain that he endured with each and every stomp, Vincent's own consciousness started to fade little by little as the golden color within his eye slowly but surely began to fade into a light shade of gray. Right before he had completely passed out however, another voice spoke up causing the feral to immediately stop its ongoing attack and gaze up towards the unknown voice. "Enough." Being all the voice stated as the male voice came from the top of another building adjacent from that of the church. By the time the feral had seen and noticed who had demanded it to stop, the creature quickly dropped itself down onto his hands and knees before lowering its head down to the floor. "M-Master! I..I'm sorry! I..I hadn't known y..you were around! I..I was just having some fun..wh-while waitin-" As the feral pleaded and attempted to justify its actions, the unknown male figure simply stepped off from the rooftop of the building before walking passed the creature to approach the fallen clan leader.

Squatting down in front of Vincent, the male figure tilted his head while staring at fallen leader. This male feral was much different from any other that had ever been seen before, the sclera of his eyes were pitch black while his pupils were slits, similar to that of a cat's, his hues were a deep crimson that closely resembled that of the crimson moon that lingered over the restricted zone. His hair was jet-black with two curved horns protruding from his head. His clothes were a tattered mess consisting of no shoes, black pants, and an unzipped black hoodie while wearing nothing underneath to reveal multiple large slash-like scars that resembled a mixture of blades and claw marks.
The silence that fell upon the two as they stared at one another was ominous, although the male feral did not speak, it felt as though just his gaze alone was piercing into Vincent's soul. "So, this is the new leader of Black Rose, hm? Hmph. Pitiful." With those being the only words spoken at first, soon enough, the feral male reached a single hand forward just to begin poking his clawed index finger along Vincent's forehead several times. "You shouldn't have come here...especially not alone. I know why you're here...but you will find no answers yet. Trust me. I've tried." As the male spoke, Vincent struggled just to keep his focus on staying awake as just the simple touch of the male's fingertip against his forehead felt like his head was being crushed by several hundreds of thousands of tons of weight every time the fingertip made contact.

In the midst of this, soon enough the sound of another pair of footsteps soon approached. This time, the figure that approached was much slenderer and walked with much more grace. As this second unknown feral approached, they soon placed their smaller hand to pat the top of the male feral's head to get his attention. "So, what're we going to do with him Avvi?" Feminine, this voice was feminine. As the female spoke, the one named 'Avvi' was quick to respond by twisting his head over as he responded in such a way that seemed to show that these two were friends of sorts with one another. Ferals, as friends, yet another phenomenon that had never been heard-of. "Oi! I told you I hate it when you call me that Glumisun! Call me Avaddon!" As the male feral spoke, Vincent had taken the time to recover what little energy he could to attempt and help himself up to his feet even if his legs were still weakened. "J-..Just who are...you?" Struggling to speak while his multiple gashed wounds gushed blood consistently, the two ferals stopped mid conversation just to turn their uninterested looks back upon Vincent once more.

Immediately, Avaddon approached the weakened state of Vincent before placing a hand upon his shoulder as he leaned forward. "You'd best become stronger. Prepare yourself. For if you so much as falter for even a moment, everything and everyone you had ever held dear...will all crumble around you when HE shows." After stating that few words, an instant, Vincent's entire body was rocketed backwards at an intense amount of speed while Avaddon turned his back to walk away and return to his work.
The sheer force and pressure of the launch had been far too great that Vincent was barely even able to raise his head let alone find a way to slow his own body down as he neared the barrier's entrance at an alarming rate.

Meanwhile, back at the entrance to the restricted zone, the scholars had began to detect and incoming lifeform that was approaching their location from within the restricted zone. The speed of the incoming lifeform was unimaginable, believing it was a feral, the guards prepared to defend the position while many of the other scholars had readied themselves to reinforce the barrier as much as needed. However, by the time Vincent's body came into view, the unexpected sight of the leader had everyone in the area in a panic as they inflated a massive cushion that was normally meant to carry large number of individuals at a once to a medical facility in a safer transportation form. Holding it upwards and having multiple staff members of guards and scholars alike behind it, multiple of the other scholars opened the barrier into a much wider form to press the entirety of the inflated cushion against the barrier before Vincent made contact with it.

With the amount of force he had hit the cushion, anyone that stood behind it was immediately pushed backwards and nearly were crushed if it wasn't for the fact the cushion was soft and plush to allow it to just bounce off their frames and land behind them. Laying on the large soft material, scholars and guards surrounded the Black Rose leader only to be in shock and terror at the amount of wounds that now littered his body. Just by the look of his body, it appeared as though Vincent had just gone through a meat grinder as limbs were broken all over, his eyes glazed over and devoid of color, blood poured out from practically every part of his body. "Call for the medical team! Call someone! He's dying! Someone get him to the nearest hospital asap!" With the elderly head of the scholars from earlier calling out to her fellow colleagues, everyone rushed around the area in search of any possible medical supplies as well as scurrying around in search of any form of communication device they could find to get in contact with any emergency services nearby.
Code by Serobliss
 
Sofia's Prey
Interacting with: None (yet)​
Sofia's search took her to every corner of Serpent's Kiss headquarters and she didn't seem to have much luck finding anything of interest. Time after time, signatures would pop up and vanish almost instantly and the demoness was starting to get frustrated. The clock was ticking and she was coming up empty at every turn. Finally, roughly an hour into her search, it seemed as though the funeral preparations were speeding up because everyone was moving at break-neck pace. As wave after wave of demons poured through the hallways, casting oh-so many shadows for her to latch onto, Sofia closed her eyes and focused. With her palm pressed against the wall and her entire body submerged in darkness, she honed her senses and followed a long trail down the corridors. From wall to person, and then from person to person, over and over her senses weaved through and prodded at different signatures.

Found you. Sofia's eyes went wide with a mixture of relief and excited rage as she finally spotted a signature that seemed confined to a single space. The only movement she could detect was what seemed to be pacing back and forth. Trying not to draw too much attention to herself while she moved quickly, the shadow demon ducked and weaved her way through the crowd towards her prey. When she had a strong enough tether, she even managed to sense anxiety and desperation, but not a hint of fear or regret. Oh, I'll make you regret what you did. The pulse and movement got closer and closer: 30 meters, then 20, then 10, and then... In this part of the compound, the crowds of people were practically gone and all Sofia could see was a silver door before her and the feeling of a rapid heartbeat behind it.

Just as her horns began sliding out from within her head and her eyes turned a deep crimson, Sofia had to pause. I'm not even sure this is the actual killer... With a soft sigh, the shadowy demon form retreated back into her feminine body and her eyes turned a pale shade of blue. A small, sharp, spike slowly pushes itself out from the tip of her finger, which she uses to pick the lock to the door as calmly as she can. It doesn't take long for her to get the lock open; after all, she does know this place inside out. A predatory smile curls across the female's lips as she feels the anxiety from within the room dial up considerably and her prey's breathing gets sharper. With one swift motion, her hand swings the door open as she spins into the room, leaning back on the door to close it behind her. "What're you up to? You know there's a funeral and all clan members need to attend, right?"

Her target, a tall and thin, pale man, looks her over with a frustrated look on his face. "Yeah, I was just changing. You got a reason to break into my room or should I have the guards throw you out?" Despite the firmness in his voice, Sofia's shadowy tether relayed to her that he was anything but firm. His heart rate was spiking and he was almost in fight-or-flight mode. "Well I just so happen to have been sent to ask around about said funeral..." She started, smirking and knowing she had this man right where she wanted him. "I'm particularly interested in finding whoever caused the death of our dear leader. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Slowly, her words turned from somewhat sultry to downright venomous and the blue in her eyes reddened a little to create a purple hue. People rarely realized just how quickly their vitals could betray them even when they attempted to keep a straight face, and this man was no different. His heart started pumping blood faster than even Sofia thought it could and she could detect the slightest trembling in his knees.

"Are you accusing me of something? You've got some nerve, bitch; in fact, get the hell out of here right now! You're lucky I haven't thrown you out, but you're testing my patience." This time around, his voice wasn't nearly as stable as it was the last time he spoke, as his jaw quivered a little while he spoke. Sofia loved how quickly the male's façade was falling apart. Not even bothering to keep up her own, she took a couple of steps forward, horns now starting to jut out from the side of her head and the blood-red crimson returning to her eyes. "It was you, wasn't it? You slimy, worthless, piece of shit. And for what?" Something surprising happened to the demoness' prey that took her aback a little: he wasn't scared anymore. In fact, the perpetrator's demeanor changed into something completely unexpected, which was a mixture of pride and anger.

"Y'know what? Yeah! I did that old bag in and I'd do it again!" Razor-sharp fangs started growing out of his mouth, replacing the square teeth he once had, and his skin turned a deep blue color. "She was leading us into ruin! Our venerable and honorable clan was being run into the ground by that stupid bitch you called a 'leader.'" As his voice and attitude grew more and more venomous, Sofia's own rage kept building to a point of near explosion. Her eyes, once crimson, were now a deep, black void and the shadows around her started to dance and swirl in response to her emotions. Despite this, the clearly unhinged man continued his tirade. "We need new leadership, so I'll be going after her second-in-command next. I'm sure she's either already been appointed leader or will be soon, and I'll be damned if I allow-"

Having heard enough, Sofia whipped her kyoketsu-shoge upward, slicing right across the man's face and into one of his eyes. Without giving him a second to recover, she swung the chain around the back of her neck and delivered a second strike, this one digging into his cheek before raking the blade back. On her third attempt, the fanatic demon's sharp, metallic fangs caught the blade in a vice grip and he lunged forward with claws extended toward Sofia's face. Sofia smiled, deciding to yank on her chain to increase her attacker's momentum as he practically flew at her. Expert body control was on full display as Sofia gracefully slid beneath the incoming claws while aiming her elbow directly at the center of her victim's torso. Right before impact, a 5-inch spike jutted out from the tip of her elbow and she thrust it like a Muay Thai fighter right into the upper abdomen.

Without allowing him a moment to react, she retracted the spike in her elbow and drove her fist directly into the man's jaw from below, knocking him out cold. The heavy body above her slumped on top of her, getting blood stains on her top and a little on her head. With a disgusted scowl, she shoved the murderer to the ground, using her shadow to make sure his heart was still beating. I need to get him to Cazendra, and fast. Hopefully this'll make up for my absence at the funeral. Not wasting a single second, Sofia leaned down to tie up the wounded man on the ground, making sure to tie a nearby steel bowl over his mouth to keep those razors in check. Once he was restrained, she treated the wound in his chest, using a nearby blowtorch to cauterize it and ensure that he wouldn't bleed to death. Only a doctor could fully fix him up, but it would be enough to keep him alive for a while.

Sofia angrily picked up the unconscious demon and slung him over her shoulder as she made her way to the main building. Hopefully everyone important is still at the funeral so they don't bother me. It took a little longer than usual, mostly thanks to the weight of the unconscious body slumped over the demoness' shoulder, but she eventually made it there. Knowing the layout of the place, Sofia quickly took a left at the foyer, where she came across a tired-looking guard that just stared at her and the man she was carrying with a confused expression. "Special delivery for Madam Virrer. The less you ask the better." Seemingly exhausted and rattler from the events of the day, the guard just shrugged and opened the door, allowing her to venture deeper.

As Sofia went down the spiral staircase, she could feel the demon she was carrying regaining consciousness slowly. It's safe to say she was glad she was almost there, otherwise she'd have had to knock him out again. As they came up on the door, the guard didn't even bother to question Sofia and just let her through, where she kept walking down a hallway with dark cells and some other people who seemed to be lost in conversation. Just when she heard muffled screams and felt her captive writhe and struggle on her shoulder, Sofia arrived at Cazendra's interrogation room door. "Quiet down!" Sofia knocked the man over the head with a tight fist before pushing the heavy door open. Once inside, she took advantage of the stronger chains and other equipment to fully restrain him. "If you're lucky you won't have to deal with me again, now sit tight and wait here." With an angry, yet triumphant look in her eyes, Sofia stepped out the door and closed it, leaning against it to wait for Cazendra to arrive.
 




/* ------ left side ------ */




/* ------ tabs ------ */









  • /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
    You didn't go through all that for nothing. Keep fighting.


    Criad​






/* ------ right side ------ */

He had slipped down the tree at some point. Whenever Criad looked over to his superior his heart clenched. Caz had settled as well, not moving an inch. An odf calmneds ruled her body. He wasn't even sure she breathed.


Quick steps hurdled over the grass. The green humanoid quickly stood, his face blooming with anticipation. A guard came sprinting towards him. His sapphire blue uniform brandmarked him as one of Caz's chosen staff. He was in her special unit. What was he doing here? Did… did they find the murder?


"Criad-" He tried to catch his breath. A second later he saluted. "Sofia Archer!"


Sofia… Sofia… Sofia- Ah! The scout, who merged to one with the shadows. Caz had always approved her reports with a proud grin. She was a real talent and a little famous for suceeding her missions gracefully.


"What happened?"


"She found the murderer. He is already in Madam's dungeon and-"


He did not get to finish. A streak of white sprinted past them instantly. The guard looked between him and the vanishing figure. Criad gave him an apoplectic grimace before he rushed after her. It took him a minute to reach her but only because the siren had slowed now. Her steps would evoke an earthquake if she kept going like this. Every staff member made sure to step aside and suddenly anything was more interesting than a fuming Cazendra Virrer.


"Caz!" He fumbled at her side, breaking a sweat to keep up with the female. "Caz, what do you deem to do?"


Of course, he got no answer. The way he knew her, she had already pictured ten thousand different ways to punish the culprit. She lead them through the foyer and left to her own playgrounds. Beezle had once established them, as far as he remembered. The guard fell out of the way. Cazendra was a walking storm now and Criad knew there would be nothing to stop her. Unless a Beezle asked her to but… that option became impossible just this morning.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.




He had slipped down the tree at some point. Whenever Criad looked over to his superior his heart clenched. Caz had settled as well, not moving an inch. An odf calmneds ruled her body. He wasn't even sure she breathed.


Quick steps hurdled over the grass. The green humanoid quickly stood, his face blooming with anticipation. A guard came sprinting towards him. His sapphire blue uniform brandmarked him as one of Caz's chosen staff. He was in her special unit. What was he doing here? Did… did they find the murder?


"Criad-" He tried to catch his breath. A second later he saluted. "Sofia Archer!"


Sofia… Sofia… Sofia- Ah! The scout, who merged to one with the shadows. Caz had always approved her reports with a proud grin. She was a real talent and a little famous for suceeding her missions gracefully.


"What happened?"


"She found the murderer. He is already in Madam's dungeon and-"


He did not get to finish. A streak of white sprinted past them instantly. The guard looked between him and the vanishing figure. Criad gave him an apoplectic grimace before he rushed after her. It took him a minute to reach her but only because the siren had slowed now. Her steps would evoke an earthquake if she kept going like this. Every staff member made sure to step aside and suddenly anything was more interesting than a fuming Cazendra Virrer.


"Caz!" He fumbled at her side, breaking a sweat to keep up with the female. "Caz, what do you deem to do?"


Of course, he got no answer. The way he knew her, she had already pictured ten thousand different ways to punish the culprit. She lead them through the foyer and left to her own playgrounds. Beezle had once established them, as far as he remembered. The guard fell out of the way. Cazendra was a walking storm now and Criad knew there would be nothing to stop her. Unless a Beezle asked her to but… that option became impossible just this morning.







/* ------ left side ------ */




/* ------ tabs ------ */









  • /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
    Nothing outside of you has any power over you. It is you alone who thinks for yourself, who acts for yourself, who lives for yourself. Take full ownership and fly.


    Cazendra Virrer​






/* ------ right side ------ */

Found. Found. Found.
Some Sofia Archer had brought a suspect in. Cazendra Virrer was sure if her mind hadn't been occupied with picturing all kind of different methods to make this scumbag suffer, she might have remembered where she heard that name before. Everyone avoided her, except for Criad as far as she knew or cared. The electricity of the building and electric cables came to her, sung to her. Deep inside her watched something with slit eyes, waiting to latch out. And Caz might not stop it today.

In a blink of an eye, the iron door stopped her. She couldn't put her finger on the scanner fast enough. Today this door opened so slow! The sound of the hinges moving, the beast of iron snaking open- faster. It had to go faster. Before it had opened completely, she had already slipped through. The cells that lined up to her left and right were quiet. As if none of the inmates dared to even breathe. Good for them that she wasn't here for them.

Criad stayed silent now, too. He despised her own personal space down here. If he could, he would have cleared every issue with some diplomatic speech or some equally useless shit. In front of her interrogation room stood a female. That must have been Sofia Archer then. Without so much as giving her a nod, Cazendra slipped into the room. Before the door fell shut, she heard Criad saying, "Ah, Miss Archer! Wonderful work. I hope…"

She didn't care. Not when a male stared at her, grinning. He was one damned mess. A bloodly little punk. Wonderful work indeed, Cazendra would thank Sofia later.

"I don't know what you want here. I told the bitch everything already. I did it okay?" He said, nodding as if he talked to a child. Bitch. Seemed like Sofia got on someone's bad side. Cazendra schooled her feautures into a deadly calm. She leaned against the wall, testing the stream of power prowling in her bones. Ready. She was oh so ready. But patience was the key.

Blindly hurting him brought her no satisfaction. At all, she guessed he had prepared for major torture anyway. No, Caz waited for his mask to crack. Judging his tight posture and rather defending posture, he would twaddle all on his own.

"I got in through the window and out the other. One clean slash in her stomach. That stupid excuse of a leader laid dying on the ground," he spat. "Is that what you want to hear? Is it!" Cazendra silently continued to stare at him. Though her jaw tightened slightly. I'm uncultured. The salty drops of sweat cornered the edges of his forehead. "There is nothing more! Okay? I want a fucking reform. This female you called 'leader' would have brought us all to ruin!"

She had to admit he did blubber, but he said nothing in the end. Nothing of worth for her. Cazendra peeled herself from the wall. Like a wolf closing in on its prey, the demoness circled his seat. The male restrained against his shackles, a little at least. He tried to rotate his head with her. She did two more rounds, her eyes frequently working up and down.

Cazendra aprubtly stopped and picked him up. Such a light feather he was. And when she looked into his face, she didn't even see regret or distress. Snorting, she began to tap him and his pockets until her palm landed on a square leather thing. His purse.
Wordlessly she dropped him without a care and took the item. His ID card smiled at her right away. Cazendra turned the little thing a few times and inspected it. He was her age and called Junian Becker. Becker was a prominent name in her territory. A proud merchant, known for the qualities of his goods. He had bakeries in his name all over Haven City. She thought he said his son was long lost? Perhaps he had meant a different lost then.

"Well, Junian Becker," he drew a grimace. "I already know everything you just told me. But I want something else," the sirenical demoness purred. The purse landed somewhere in the room. She placed her two hands on the armrests, bringing her face utterly close to his. Her nostrils flared. The adrenaline in her body shot up by smelling his fear.

"Why."

He squinted his eyes at her.

"Why did your papi disown you, Mr. Becker?" She released him from her closeness and returned to her wall. He had no words left. Not a question he expected. Feel him out, see where he trips, what gets him on the edge. She had to remind herself every passing minute she had to see this meat face.
"It's Junian, okay? Only Junian," he said through gritted teeth. "J-u-n-i-a-n." Cazendra's facials did not fail her as they gulped the grin down. An unhappy son, banished from his father because he had seen the worst in him. She remembered his father. Often he'd visit for tea or to deliver a special book. He once brought her exotic food, too. Becker was known for his kind heart. How often had he wound up to give seeking children shelter. One reason Beezle enjoyed his presence so much.

"Fine, Mr. Becker—"

"Junian. I am no Becker."

"Okay, I will take this into consideration, Mr. Becker." She looked around once more in the room. Aluminium, a textile that kept her thunders inside. Though it was wardened anyways, so it could not break during Cazendra's very calm and collected interrogations. She waved around. "Your cell will be worse, colder. There will be no sun for you, no more moon to rise, Mr. Becker." She didn't try to coax the truth, her circling picked up once more.

The male furrowed his brows, his sweat increasing. "But- isn't felony against a leader punishable with… death?" He sounded desperate, yes, almost hysterical. She had what she needed now. His weakness. This scum was lead inside and told he would die anyway. It is what he was prepared for, Cazendra assumed.

"Oh, not for you." She bent to his ears, a grin now set on her lips. "You will suffer, day and night. Healers will heal you so you don't die. There is an enternity waiting for you here."
When she pulled back, her eyes landed on the fading color in his face. It took him exactly five seconds to realize what she promised him. The male started to rampage against the chains, roaring and crying. "I was told I would die!" He came close to her now. "I WAS TOLD I WOULD DIE. PLEASE— I can't…"
Her teeth changed to those of her sirenical form. Razor sharp, in a line and way more than she needed. The male dropped onto his knees. Eternal pain, that is what she had in mind for him. Eternal fucking pain.

"Who told you that?"

Cazendra placed her foot on his chest. He tried to fish an answer but something kept it in. Her strength on the foot increased until the bones dared to break. Like a pathetic worm he squirmed underneath her. Sofia had worn him out, perfect. "I fuck on you and that Beezle! Many do! It could have been anyone."

"No one," she snarled and kicked him away. The wall bent under the impact, the male's salvia spat on the ground. "No one can enter these buildings easily. And especially not into the Madam's room." Again, more pressure. "Who helped you." Who is the one I have to find?
But he only shook his head now. Tricked and betrayed, he deserved nothing less. Just who? Who would have hired an assassin to get rid of Beezle? Did someone held a grudge?
Cazendra shortened the distance between them and gave him six hard slaps against the cheek. Each time the impact had been loud and disgusting. She pushed over the six times until he bled from his nose before flinging him onto the chair.

"Listen, Becker Junior," Stadning behind him, caz put her hands slowly and elegant on his shoulders. Her voice a no mere whisper against his ears. "You better tell me and I will cut the electro shocks on my part."

"I killed her," he said once more, a stumble in his once so steady words. "I killed her."

She rolled her eyes and took a step back. His screaming errupted short after. For the dramatic flair, Caz had her hand stretched towards him, allowing her power to exit through it. Lighting crashed into the demon and she quickly followed it's lead to keep it from going over to the heart.
Each time she asked who told him she would kill him right away. And for every nonsense, she send him under electricity. His hair had even started to spike up. Each time, his pained roars became more intense.

Beezle's murder. Right here. This… jumping jack had murdered Beezle? No.
No. No. No. The female was weak, yes. But not like that. She could bring rain over the entire clan terrain!
Her neck cracked and she threw the demon to the ground. Whilst sending him smaller amounts of lighting, her fists connected with his face. One or two teeth disconnected with his jaw. The world bled read just like he did.


The sound of the crack of the nose's bone had gone under.
The way his eye had swollen already gone unattended.
Cazendra kept punshing the pinned male. He had Beezle's blood on his hand. Her blood. And he aimed for the goddamned throne. The position of being a leader. Her punches grew more fierce and wild.

Beezle dead. Because of him.

Dead.Dead.Dead.Dead.Dead.

Cazendra got up and slammed the door shut behind her. He would not talk, yet and as much as she wanted to bring him to an end, she needed him. Plus a few duties remained open, still. Outside the female took a long breath.

"So…?"

What now? Tell them or… Cazendra sighed. "Just some nonsense he gave from himself. I will keep going tomorrow. At least he admitted he did it. Call the healers, Criad. Let them heal him. But do not do too much."
She turned to the female, who had proven herself. Caz remembered now. Sofia Archer. She had finished a lot of outside-jobs. A real talent. "I thank you for your gracious help. I will call for you, come to my office then."
With that, her day was almost over. She found the press a little later and gave them a brief summary of the events for the newsletter that'd be shared across the entire city. "Beezle, the former leader, had passed at the hand of a murder their member Sofia Archer had caught mere hours later" Nothing more, nothing less. She promised them to let lighting rain upon them if they changed or added anything. With pale faces, the reporters left again and she returned




/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.




Found. Found. Found.
Some Sofia Archer had brought a suspect in. Cazendra Virrer was sure if her mind hadn't been occupied with picturing all kind of different methods to make this scumbag suffer, she might have remembered where she heard that name before. Everyone avoided her, except for Criad as far as she knew or cared. The electricity of the building and electric cables came to her, sung to her. Deep inside her watched something with slit eyes, waiting to latch out. And Caz might not stop it today.

In a blink of an eye, the iron door stopped her. She couldn't put her finger on the scanner fast enough. Today this door opened so slow! The sound of the hinges moving, the beast of iron snaking open- faster. It had to go faster. Before it had opened completely, she had already slipped through. The cells that lined up to her left and right were quiet. As if none of the inmates dared to even breathe. Good for them that she wasn't here for them.

Criad stayed silent now, too. He despised her own personal space down here. If he could, he would have cleared every issue with some diplomatic speech or some equally useless shit. In front of her interrogation room stood a female. That must have been Sofia Archer then. Without so much as giving her a nod, Cazendra slipped into the room. Before the door fell shut, she heard Criad saying, "Ah, Miss Archer! Wonderful work. I hope…"

She didn't care. Not when a male stared at her, grinning. He was one damned mess. A bloodly little punk. Wonderful work indeed, Cazendra would thank Sofia later.

"I don't know what you want here. I told the bitch everything already. I did it okay?" He said, nodding as if he talked to a child. Bitch. Seemed like Sofia got on someone's bad side. Cazendra schooled her feautures into a deadly calm. She leaned against the wall, testing the stream of power prowling in her bones. Ready. She was oh so ready. But patience was the key.

Blindly hurting him brought her no satisfaction. At all, she guessed he had prepared for major torture anyway. No, Caz waited for his mask to crack. Judging his tight posture and rather defending posture, he would twaddle all on his own.

"I got in through the window and out the other. One clean slash in her stomach. That stupid I'm uncultured laid dying on the ground," he spat. "Is that what you want to hear? Is it!" Cazendra silently continued to stare at him. Though her jaw tightened slightly. I'm uncultured. The salty drops of sweat cornered the edges of his forehead. "There is nothing more! Okay? I want a fucking reform. This female you called 'leader' would have brought us all to ruin!"

She had to admit he did blubber, but he said nothing in the end. Nothing of worth for her. Cazendra peeled herself from the wall. Like a wolf closing in on its prey, the demoness circled his seat. The male restrained against his shackles, a little at least. He tried to rotate his head with her. She did two more rounds, her eyes frequently working up and down.

Cazendra aprubtly stopped and picked him up. Such a light feather he was. And when she looked into his face, she didn't even see regret or distress. Snorting, she began to tap him and his pockets until her palm landed on a square leather thing. His purse.
Wordlessly she dropped him without a care and took the item. His ID card smiled at her right away. Cazendra turned the little thing a few times and inspected it. He was her age and called Junian Becker. Becker was a prominent name in her territory. A proud merchant, known for the qualities of his goods. He had bakeries in his name all over Haven City. She thought he said his son was long lost? Perhaps he had meant a different lost then.

"Well, Junian Becker," he drew a grimace. "I already know everything you just told me. But I want something else," the sirenical demoness purred. The purse landed somewhere in the room. She placed her two hands on the armrests, bringing her face utterly close to his. Her nostrils flared. The adrenaline in her body shot up by smelling his fear.

"Why."

He squinted his eyes at her.

"Why did your papi disown you, Mr. Becker?" She released him from her closeness and returned to her wall. He had no words left. Not a question he expected. Feel him out, see where he trips, what gets him on the edge. She had to remind herself every passing minute she had to see this meat face.
"It's Junian, okay? Only Junian," he said through gritted teeth. "J-u-n-i-a-n." Cazendra's facials did not fail her as they gulped the grin down. An unhappy son, banished from his father because he had seen the worst in him. She remembered his father. Often he'd visit for tea or to deliver a special book. He once brought her exotic food, too. Becker was known for his kind heart. How often had he wound up to give seeking children shelter. One reason Beezle enjoyed his presence so much.

"Fine, Mr. Becker—"

"Junian. I am no Becker."

"Okay, I will take this into consideration, Mr. Becker." She looked around once more in the room. Aluminium, a textile that kept her thunders inside. Though it was wardened anyways, so it could not break during Cazendra's very calm and collected interrogations. She waved around. "Your cell will be worse, colder. There will be no sun for you, no more moon to rise, Mr. Becker." She didn't try to coax the truth, her circling picked up once more.

The male furrowed his brows, his sweat increasing. "But- isn't felony against a leader punishable with… death?" He sounded desperate, yes, almost hysterical. She had what she needed now. His weakness. This scum was lead inside and told he would die anyway. It is what he was prepared for, Cazendra assumed.

"Oh, not for you." She bent to his ears, a grin now set on her lips. "You will suffer, day and night. Healers will heal you so you don't die. There is an enternity waiting for you here."
When she pulled back, her eyes landed on the fading color in his face. It took him exactly five seconds to realize what she promised him. The male started to rampage against the chains, roaring and crying. "I was told I would die!" He came close to her now. "I WAS TOLD I WOULD DIE. PLEASE— I can't…"
Her teeth changed to those of her sirenical form. Razor sharp, in a line and way more than she needed. The male dropped onto his knees. Eternal pain, that is what she had in mind for him. Eternal fucking pain.

"Who told you that?"

Cazendra placed her foot on his chest. He tried to fish an answer but something kept it in. Her strength on the foot increased until the bones dared to break. Like a pathetic worm he squirmed underneath her. Sofia had worn him out, perfect. "I fuck on you and that Beezle! Many do! It could have been anyone."

"No one," she snarled and kicked him away. The wall bent under the impact, the male's salvia spat on the ground. "No one can enter these buildings easily. And especially not into the Madam's room." Again, more pressure. "Who helped you." Who is the one I have to find?
But he only shook his head now. Tricked and betrayed, he deserved nothing less. Just who? Who would have hired an assassin to get rid of Beezle? Did someone held a grudge?
Cazendra shortened the distance between them and gave him six hard slaps against the cheek. Each time the impact had been loud and disgusting. She pushed over the six times until he bled from his nose before flinging him onto the chair.

"Listen, Becker Junior," Stadning behind him, caz put her hands slowly and elegant on his shoulders. Her voice a no mere whisper against his ears. "You better tell me and I will cut the electro shocks on my part."

"I killed her," he said once more, a stumble in his once so steady words. "I killed her."

She rolled her eyes and took a step back. His screaming errupted short after. For the dramatic flair, Caz had her hand stretched towards him, allowing her power to exit through it. Lighting crashed into the demon and she quickly followed it's lead to keep it from going over to the heart.
Each time she asked who told him she would kill him right away. And for every nonsense, she send him under electricity. His hair had even started to spike up. Each time, his pained roars became more intense.

Beezle's murder. Right here. This… jumping jack had murdered Beezle? No.
No. No. No. The female was weak, yes. But not like that. She could bring rain over the entire clan terrain!
Her neck cracked and she threw the demon to the ground. Whilst sending him smaller amounts of lighting, her fists connected with his face. One or two teeth disconnected with his jaw. The world bled read just like he did.


The sound of the crack of the nose's bone had gone under.
The way his eye had swollen already gone unattended.
Cazendra kept punshing the pinned male. He had Beezle's blood on his hand. Her blood. And he aimed for the goddamned throne. The position of being a leader. Her punches grew more fierce and wild.

Beezle dead. Because of him.

Dead.Dead.Dead.Dead.Dead.

Cazendra got up and slammed the door shut behind her. He would not talk, yet and as much as she wanted to bring him to an end, she needed him. Plus a few duties remained open, still. Outside the female took a long breath.

"So…?"

What now? Tell them or… Cazendra sighed. "Just some nonsense he gave from himself. I will keep going tomorrow. At least he admitted he did it. Call the healers, Criad. Let them heal him. But do not do too much."
She turned to the female, who had proven herself. Caz remembered now. Sofia Archer. She had finished a lot of outside-jobs. A real talent. "I thank you for your gracious help. I will call for you, come to my office then."
With that, her day was almost over. She found the press a little later and gave them a brief summary of the events for the newsletter that'd be shared across the entire city. "Beezle, the former leader, had passed at the hand of a murder their member Sofia Archer had caught mere hours later" Nothing more, nothing less. She promised them to let lighting rain upon them if they changed or added anything. With pale faces, the reporters left again and she returned to her office.
 
Last edited:
Sofia's Prize
Interacting with: JJae JJae ​
Even though Sofia was a seasoned clan member, she never spent too much time down in the dungeons. It was a peculiar sight to say the least, though it was certainly fitting for a clan of spies and scouts. A soft, triumphant smile curled on her lips as she heard repeated banging and shouting coming from within the interrogation room behind her. At a time where her clan had lost its revered leader and turmoil was afoot, any small moment of joy was worth clinging onto. Her fingers softly tapped the stone wall surrounding the massive metal door, creating something of a rhythm to keep her entertained. It didn't take long for the sounds of a distant door swinging open and hurried steps to fill the corridor of the underground lair.

Knowing that Cazendra wouldn't waste a second to get into the room, Sofia slid to the right of the door and instead leaned on the wall. Bang bang bang. Her knuckles struck the door to get a rise out of her prisoner. "Make yourself look pretty! She's coming." Sofia's words practically dripped of sarcasm and excitement and she could hear some muffled response coming from within. Her head turned to face down the hallway with a grin on her face as Cazendra was practically gliding like an underwater predator would when it has found its prey. Behind her came a small goblin that was desperately trying to keep up. Deep green eyes briefly scanned Cazendra as she strode into the room and shut the door behind her, before landing once more on the goblin. Criad, I think it is...

Even though Sofia knew most people in the clan, sometimes she needed a second to properly pin a name to a face especially after being out on a mission. "Ah, Miss Archer! Wonderful work. I hope this murderer didn't give you too much trouble." Judging by the sounds coming from within the room, Sofia judged that they hadn't quite gotten to the fun part yet, so she remained glued to the wall. She smiled at Criad and extended her hand towards him, which he took with a tired smile on his face. Despite the goblin's constant can-do attitude, even he showed signs of emotional and physical tiredness, which was understandable given the day he must've had thus far. "No worries, he went down easy," the shadow demoness started, maintaining a courteous tone, "I must ask, however: how's Madam Virrer?" Sofia felt genuinely concerned for Cazendra despite the fact that their relationship had never gone beyond strictly professional.

Criad flashed a sad look, which already told her all she needed to hear. "Caz is... processing the news," the goblin began, a frown wiping away his smile, "she will be okay, though; the clan will be okay, but it was a terrible tragedy." Sofia gave Criad a reassuring nod before her ears perked up at the sound of screaming. A grin flashed across the female's face, which she tried her best to hide afterwards to avoid making the goblin uncomfortable. That's all I needed to hear. Satisfied with the events taking place in the room behind her, Sofia finally pushed herself off the wall and stood next to her temporary companion. "It really is terrible; I still have a hard time believing it myself. However, we will heal and we will become stronger because of this." It was unclear whether Sofia's words of encouragement were for Criad or for herself, but either way they seemed to do their job.

Criad simply smiled up at her and nodded in agreement before the door flung open and slammed shut once more and Cazendra joined them yet again. "So...?" She looked angry, yet very composed. "Just some nonsense he gave from himself. I will keep going tomorrow. At least he admitted he did it. Call the healers, Criad. Let them heal him. But do not do too much." While it was very unfortunate that their captive refused to give up any information on his true motives, at least they knew that it really was him who did it. Sofia straightened herself out when Cazendra turned to address her. "I thank you for your gracious help. I will call for you, come to my office then." With a courteous smile, Sofia nodded her head. "No need to thank me, just doing my job. I'll be there." With that, Cazendra walked away to do what Sofia could only assume was deal with the fallout from the situation.

Sofia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, taking a moment to stretch her arms. Part of her was curious to see how Cazendra had left her prisoner, but she decided to let it be for the time being and she turned to Criad. "Miss Archer, allow me to lead you there!" The goblin outstretched a hand towards the hallway, to which Sofia responded with a nod. Walking at a much slower pace than they had when arriving, the pair made their way up and out of the dungeon and through the main building. "I must say I'm deeply sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. I was a little busy, but I'm sure it was wonderful." She did her best to make some small talk to temporarily stave off the deafening silence that had overtaken Serpent's Kiss headquarters. "Oh, don't you worry about that. It was a somewhat small ceremony, but it was fit for a leader like Beezle!"

With a warm smile, Sofia gave Criad a soft pat on the shoulder to congratulate him for all the work he'd done. Even though she was never much of a planner, Sofia knew that setting up an impromptu funeral couldn't have been easy. Oddly enough, the corridors felt a lot smaller when walking with company, and pretty soon the two were standing in front of Cazendra's office door. "Here we are!" With a smile, the goblin opened the door to lead Sofia into the rustic office. "Thank you so much." Sofia gave Criad a nod and stepped inside, taking a quick glance around at the seemingly endless stacks of papers before looking to Cazendra. "Greetings again, Madam Virrer. You wanted to see me?"
 
Cazzie:





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  • /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
    Nothing outside of you has any power over you. It is you alone who thinks for yourself, who acts for yourself, who lives for yourself. Take full ownership and fly.


    Cazendra Virrer​






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She arrived at her office not a second later. Cazendra Virrer had open reports still and she supposed tomorrow wouldn’t be any less hectical. As fast as things switched up now, it laid on her hand that the sages would be preparing the ceremony already. After all, she had to get the clan abilities somehow.
The female sighed but before she could open her drawer, a little demon peeked inside. “M-Madam Virrer?” If she weren’t so tired, she would have bellowed for him to get out. Caz let out an exhausted ‘Yeah?’. The youngster gulped. He brought his hand up. Some scroll laid in it. Caz should become a fortune teller. The scrolls the sages sent.
“Just put it down there. You are dismissed,” she said before her focus drew back on the open reports. Caz didn’t want to allow her thoughts to aimlessly wander around. They might go in the wrong direction. Instead, she occupied herself with useless requests and worries.
Her door opened once more. But instead of being careful, it swung and almost crashed into the wall. She didn’t look up from the sheet of paper. Criad entered anyways. It was the voice, which did not belong to the kobold that rattled her. Caz glanced up. Whiskey brown eyes landed on Sofia Ar- Archer? Archer it was?

“... You wanted to see me?”​

Yes, but later- Caz managed a subtle glare at Criad. Who simply leaned against the wall and pretended not to see her. Fine. Fine. After all, her day wasn’t nearly done.
The demoness seized the female with her eyes. A good builded demon with long dark hair. A shadow some called her. The dark corners, Caz admitted, seemed to react to her presence. What a fascinating sight. She hadn’t seen someone with those kinds of abilities yet.

“Yes, indeed,” Caz finally spoke. “I had everyone attend the funeral, Archer.”
Sometimes she wondered where that cruel side of her came from. She could have said what she truly implied. Not to scare the young demoness off…
Oh, but that cruel, selfish self of hers.
“Yet you were absent. Clearly a breaking of my orders.” Her voice faded into neutrality. Blatant facts were stated. Let Sofia interpret what she ought to be right. “It made me think you might not take me seriously.”
Criad, who had been relaxed just now, was all tensed up. Caz kept her neutrality although a grin picked at her lips. She let silence sink into the room before she leaned more into her huge leather seat. A relic she once found in a little shop. She may or may have not bought the demon’s entire arsenal the day after.

Her eyes did not move from Sofia. Well, she passed her last test by not crumbling or running away. Caz allowed the grin to take over, though it didn’t really reach her eyes.
“But you did it to catch the murderer. An entire guard troop could not find him, yet you did. It proved your…,” she swirled with her hand, trying to catch the right phrase, “...your talent. Yes.”

She remembered what Beezle had said to her the day at the river. You are talented, Cazzie. Like, really. I see things in you I saw in no one else. Cazendra wondered if her friend had seen the things she saw in Sofia now. Surely, she could have picked anyone or made a contest out of this. But a demon, who had such intense love and loyalty for her leader and clan… Who had enough talent to find a murderer mixed in with hundreds…
The siren got up on her feet in one swift movement. She bulked around the table in order to stand directly in front of Sofia. Neutrality faded into something warmer, softer and yet still sharp enough to cut. Criad, she noticed in the corner of her eye, gaped his mouth slightly. That is why you brought her here, you dumb kobold. Don’t act surprised.

“Sofia Archer,” she began, her voice more of a singing tune. Caz held her hand to the demon who caught the murderer, leaving it in the air as an open invitation. “As a new leader it is clear that the spot as Second-In-Command is now unoccupied. I really hate running a territory alone. In those past hours alone, and in those years you worked outside of Haven, you proved that you are capable of more. And I think your talents would be wasted. The way you beat that guy up? Impressive."
Caz took herself back to the river.
'You are not meant to be a nameless Siren, Cazendra Virrer. And I really hate leading a territory all on my own. Why don’t you help me out as my Second?'
'That, Beeze, is stupid. I came from the swamps, an outsider at best. I am only a random, nameless siren in the end.'
'Well, you are stupid at best. I shall appoint one of the sages then and-'
'N-no! Wait, I wasn't finished yet.'
'Oh?'
'You know, I really hate you.'
'Hm, so you are joining me, yeah?'

“So, why don’t you join me? I, Cazendra Virrer, appointed leader of Serpent’s Kiss, am offering you, Sofia Archer, to take the position as my Second-In-Command.”
She left her hand in the air. Caz knew it was sudden but the sooner this spot was filled, the better. Criad could show her around, help her out the first few months until she got the hang of it. But she wouldn’t force her. No, this was up to Sofia alone.




/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.


 
SoulRider said:
He had never liked having nightmares, being one of the few things he couldn't stand about life. "Certainly, if we can get them past the guards. I know only leaders and second in commands are allowed in the restricted zone, but I don't know about the hounds." He was almost tempted to pet one but refrained because he didn't want to lose a hand.
Click to expand...

Carmine let out a low laugh like the gurgling blood from a cut artery. “Your humility does you credit as a leader to care about such lowlifes as those whom guard. My lord, we are the guards! Say it and it is so. Should those stand before us, they will meet with a Bloody Apocalypse.”

Carmine looked around at glorious construction of the room and the many artifacts. He smiled again as he gazed reverently upon his lord.

“You truly do care for us littlest ant to the mightiest soul.”

SoulRider said:
"Mess with Sofia, you say? As long as they don't cause anyone any harm, that should be fine."
Click to expand...

“A nightmare is a passing fantasy, to be enjoyed, painted in the dark emotions of life but it never lasts.” Carmine sighed before gesturing at a few of the Hounds. They move through each other, exchanging tendrils as if they had no sense of self, which they didn’t. They were quite feral when Carmine first broke them thousands of years ago but some things can’t be bent only broken.

A trio of the Hounds bound off into the sharp corners aches harsh lines of Creation, disappearing at the seams of the ready room while a pair remain. This pair sit on either corner of the ready room on either side of Asmodey.

SoulRider said:
He picked up the tattered book and looked through the pages for a few moments before the Black Rose second came along, escorted by one of his soldiers. "Good day, Kralos. If you feel like it, you can sit."
Click to expand...

Carmine smirked as Kralos was brought in. Even after all these thousands of years, Karlos was so childish at times. It made him want to pat the young demon on his head, but he also really wanted to drain so the blood from Kralos. Both impulses were cruelly pushed down as he calmly waited just behind his lord.

Mr. Skull said:
His eyes traveled from one demon to the other, and then to the food served on the table, at the other side of Asmodey.

"I get a conflicting message from this meeting, Asmodey." He said. "On one hand, I understand I, as a stowaway on your airship, am not welcome. On the other, you seem to have prepared and served the most delightful pastries just for me."
Click to expand...


SoulRider said:
"When you have a conflict, that means that there are truths that have to be addressed on each side of the conflict. And when you have a conflict, then it's an educational process to try to resolve the conflict. And to resolve that, you have to get people on both sides of the conflict involved so that they can dialogue."
Click to expand...

His lord continued to speak such enlightening words. Each time it reinforced this choice to serve the Bloody Moon leader. It took his breath away sometimes.

“My lord bade you to sit dear Kralos, you should heed his polite instructions and partake of these lavish distractions we have prepared.”
 
Sofia's New Chapter
Interacting with: JJae JJae ​
Sofia stood at attention a few feet from Cazendra's desk, keeping a neutral, yet firm gaze on her superior. Her shadows alerted her to the siren's frustration, which was further exposed by a quick glare at Criad. An eyebrow raised on Sofia's face momentarily as a response when she realized that Cazendra probably didn't intend to receive her at that specific moment. He's a sweetheart, but that damn Criad might've gotten me in trouble by jumping the gun. A soft breath was all it took to ease Sofia's mind and focus back on her new leader, whose attention now solely focused on the shadow demoness. Sofia gritted her teeth momentarily when Cazendra questioned her absence from the funeral, which she immediately realized was a clear slight at authority.

Taking a deep breath, the dark-haired female relaxed her shoulders and responded. "My sincerest apologies, Madam Virrer. I know it was an order and what I did was an overstep of my position. I must, however, explain myself. You see, having everyone at the funeral presented an opportunity for the murderer to escape, and I couldn't allow that to happen. My respect for you and your authority has never wavered and will never waver. Regardless, I take responsibility for acting out on my own and ask that you forgive me." Sofia remained firm in her place, offering an apologetic look to Cazendra, but holding strong knowing that what she did was good for the clan, even if it was insubordination on some level. The air was tense and it felt like any spark could light the whole room on fire for a few moments as both demonesses eyed each other.

Finally, Cazendra spoke and broke the tension, causing Sofia's deep green eyes to turn a lighter hue as she relaxed. “But you did it to catch the murderer. An entire guard troop could not find him, yet you did. It proved your... your talent. Yes.” A bright flash of emerald green emanated from Sofia's eyes as she listened to Cazendra's voice. Sofia's face betrayed her inner feelings as her lips curled into a grin. Before she could come up with something to say, her clan leader stood and weaved around the desk to stand right before her. Whatever Cazendra wanted to say was clearly important enough for her to feel the need to stand, so Sofia looked into her eyes and held her chin up, at the ready, like a soldier face to face with her sergeant.

What came next took Sofia by surprise. With a raised hand aimed directly towards the shadow demoness, Cazendra spoke. “Sofia Archer. As a new leader it is clear that the spot as Second-In-Command is now unoccupied. I really hate running a territory alone. In those past hours alone, and in those years you worked outside of Haven, you proved that you are capable of more. And I think your talents would be wasted. The way you beat that guy up? Impressive." Emerald green shifted to amethyst purple in her eyes as pride and gratitude overtook her. She was impressive and she was capable, and it felt good for her to finally be recognized as such. “So, why don’t you join me? I, Cazendra Virrer, appointed leader of Serpent’s Kiss, am offering you, Sofia Archer, to take the position as my Second-In-Command.”

Sofia's lips parted slightly as her eyes remained locked with Cazendra's. The shadows around her swirled and swayed, immediately affected by the excitement and shock in their demoness' heart. She honestly wasn't sure of what to say, but she knew it had to be something along the lines of yes. Without a second thought, Sofia firmly, yet carefully took her leader's hand in her own and smiled. "It would be my honor to join you in leading our clan. I will make good on this prestige you've placed on me and be your sword as well as your shield whenever necessary." It became hard to keep formalities up when she'd waited so long to feel recognized and to feel like she has a place among the leaders of this world. A desire two millennia in the making was finally being fulfilled, and Sofia's professionalism cracked for a moment as a lump caught itself in her throat. "Thank you... I won't let you down."
 
Black Rose Leader
Vincent Zhao
Mood: Unconscious
Haven, Black Rose Territory, New Eden Hospital
With scholars and guards frantically running around the surrounding area in search of whatever medical supplies they could gather up at the moment while multiple scholars attempted to get in contact with an ambulance to transport Vincent, the Black Rose leader continued to lose large amounts of blood overtime. Multiple guards and scholars attempted to put pressure onto his wounds to stop the bleeding to no avail. "M-ma'am! Nothing is working..! Wh-what do we do?!" One of the younger male scholars spoke up in a terrified and panicked tone towards the lead scholar who ignored his negative words and simply continued to press down with both hands onto the massive gapping wound on Vincent's abdomen.
Luckily, it took only a matter of moments before the sound of sirens filled the air as large black vehicle arrived on the scene that had the Black Rose insignia on the sides of it, on the top of the vehicle were flashing lights of white, red, green and blue. Before the vehicle could come to a complete stop, three individuals, two of which were female demons and a male human barged from the back of the ambulance just to rush over to Vincent's sides. With their much higher level of experience and larger variety of equipment, they were quick to wrap up his wounds that almost immediately halted the bleeding while also hooking him up onto a breathing machine as well as a large bag of blood to keep him from bleeding out.

Immediately after, they helped him into the back of the vehicle before speeding off. During the drive, the medical professionals monitored Vincent's heartrate and made sure that his wounds would not oversoak the bandages by keeping large amounts of pressure onto him. The entire time, Vincent's eyesight had become nothing more than red blurry visions as he continued to attempt and keep hold of his consciousness.

The drive lasted several minutes due to having to go through the Neutral Zone to be able to reach the Black Rose territory, either way though, within the matter of several minutes, they had finally arrived at the largest hospital known throughout Haven. New Eden Hospital. The medical facility had about seven massive buildings that were all generally within the same area and were all connected via bridge tunnels that extended from the sides of the buildings themselves. The largest of the seven buildings was the center one that towered far over the other six that surrounded it. Delivering Vincent to the main building through the emergency department, the leader was pushed in on a stretcher while the paramedics were covered in the leader's blood from head to toe. "Someone! Anyone! Help! Our leader is dying!" As one of the paramedics shouted, every single doctor and nurse within the department had swung their attention over in shock and disbelief.

It wouldn't take long before Vincent was taken into the care of nearly every doctor within the emergency department, putting him onto a breathing mask to help keep oxygen flowing into his body. The medical staff made sure to put him under so that if any surgery was needed, they could do so without the concern of putting him through immense amounts of pain that could result in his increased chances of death.
Code by Serobliss
 
POSTS FOR CAZENDRA ( RoninN7 RoninN7 ) // AIREN O'BECHTEL // ALARICK DE VIL
​

  • Hello~ So, in order to get my posts out for all of my characters, I decided to use this format. Please, if you stand in an interaction field with one of the named characters, click on them!
    But feel free to read the others too. Might be funny you know.

    Characters + interactions:

    • Cazendra Virrer: interacted with: RoninN7 RoninN7 // mentioned: n/a
    • Airen O'Bechtel: interacted with and mentioned: n/a
    • Alarick De Vil: interacted with and mentioned: n/a
 
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yuhwa aeng



ravinca leader.














alias

hananoami.






nicknames

pretty boy, pinkie, cherry, yunnie.






title

pink spider lily, little trickster, huli jing.






species

demon.






pronouns

he / him.






age

" twenty-five ".






abilities

shapeshifting, shield construction, would / pain transfer.






clan ability

falling yin.















i prefer not to think before speaking. i like being just as surprised as everyone else by what comes out of my mouth. sometimes it ends well, and other times? not so much.







i've lost myself long ago

[ warning ! the second time skip within yuhwa's post will show signs of abuse ( physical and mental ) although it isn't graphic, but i thought i'd offer a warning if something ( even in the slightest ) is a bit uncomfortable or triggering ^^ ]

THE PINKETTE LET OUT A GIGGLE BEHIND his mask, grinning cheekily despite it being hidden. He stumbled onto his feet with the help of Naomi, head cocked with a hum of agreement. “You think?” The petite male tapped his chin in thought. Who knew how’d he taste to the ferals? His nose scrunched up at the thought, shaking his head with a smack of his lips, creating a small pop. Yuhwa was notorious for saying things out of the norm. It was just him. He wasn’t an average leader, most often questioning how he came into power, but Yuhwa didn’t mind. He was overly enthusiastic.

His head cocked, listening to the other with rapid attention. His light blue hues widening with curiosity and endearment. He hummed, clapping his hands together. “Yes! Flowers! I’ve got an angry grape to visit!” He chirped. Would he add to it? No. Yuhwa had a tendency to forget to elaborate on certain things, too lost in his own mind to realize he’d left anyone behind.

Yuhwa hummed in agreement, his attention shifting to the task at hand. “That’d be great. Hopefully, with the increase … things won’t be so hectic.” He mumbled the last part. His finger slipping beneath his mask to nibble at his nail, lost in thought. What if tightening security wouldn’t be enough? What if that caused them to last out? Would more die? His stomach churned at the thought. He’d hate to think more would die. If so, Yuhwa would be at fault. The pinkette fought back the whimper that wanted to escape, instead letting his canines sink into the flesh of his fingertip.

His fingers skimmed the bitten flesh of his lips, blinking several times. “Did you know that if you bit your finger, it takes the same force as if you were biting into a carrot?” He announced. His mind was a whirling mess of carrots and what ifs.

The pinkette was pulled out of his thoughts at the bold statement, blinking owlishly up at the other. He hummed. “You’re right.” His shoulders slumped. “I guess visiting the ferals will have to wait.” He paused, lips curling downward. “Regardless, I’d rather be there when and if we test them. I don’t feel comfortable sending anyone near that place.”

He let out a whine. His fingers combing through strawberry pink locks. “If only I weren’t the leader.” His cheeks puffed out in a childlike pout. Things would have been different. He doubted anyone would care much if he died then. He doubted he’d survive this long. The male was a walking health hazard to himself, even he’d admit to that.

He sighed. His shoulder briefly bumping into Naomi with a chirp. “Sorry!” He ruffled his pinkish locks with a trill. His body wobbling from side to side. “I might have lost—” He paused. “Nevermind! I didn’t lose anything! I swear!” He waved his hands.

“I wasn’t late this time, though!” He attempted to change the subject. Abort! Abort! Time to go, Yuhwa! He hurried out the door without waiting for Naomi. The male tucking his hands into his armpits with a trill.

His body shivering despite the relatively normal temperatures. He made a mental note to grab one of his thicker jackets, preferably a sweater he’d stolen and downright refused to give back.

Should I remind Naomi to change their clothes? I don’t want them to get sick. He worried his bottom lip. “Peaches?” He called. “Don’t forget to change out of those wet clothes!” He chirped. The pinkette bouncing on the balls of his feet as he hurried off from the other without a second glance.

# # #​

The pinkette hurried into the building he’d grown to call his second home, or as much as a home as it could get. His light blue hues lightening up at the familiar faces of those within the clan. The male bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waved in giddy excitement at being somewhere familiar.

He hummed. His hands tucked neatly inside the sleeves of his jacket as he hurried to his office. The male offering a quick wave to those near as he slipped inside. His shoulders sagged from the weight of what had transpired earlier. His hand reaching to pluck his mask off his face, relishing in the cool air that brushed against soft porcelain skin.

Yuhwa raised a hand, thumb brushing across his high cheekbones. His light blue hues dancing from object to object. “ I hope everyone is doing alright.” He mumbled, biting the tip of his nail. A soft trill escaped his parted lips. His gaze wandering over to the flowers he’d gotten before the meeting, lips curling into a sad smile despite the happy hue dancing within his eyes. “Guess I’m a little late, mhm?” He chuckled.

He slipped out of his puffy jacket, shivering as the cold nipped at his exposed skin, creating gooseflesh. His nose scrunching up at the onslaught of coldness that attached delicate flesh. “Cold. Cold. Cold.” He chanted.

The pinkette dancing around his office in search of a baggy sweatshirt to pull over his exposed frame. His brows furrowing in concentration until a small ah-ha escaped, holding up an old sweater that still smelt of cedarwood, pine, and vetiver. He let out a keen, burring his nose into the soft fabric with a sigh, holding it close to his chest. It was one of the few things he cherished after—Yuhwa shook his head. No need to remember.

He wouldn’t be able to handle the memories, both good and bad.

Why was it that even the wonderful memories seemed to be the most painful?

He slipped it on, allowing it to engulf his slight frame with a chirp. His light blue hues brightening in happiness despite everything that’s happened. It was home. One of the few things he had of him. It still smelt like him, even after so long.

He giggled, arms stretched out to show just how big it was on the male. His arms were swallowed by the large sleeves that seemed to be too long for his arms. The corner of his eyes curled, humor dancing within the light blue depths as he waved his arms, allowing the fabric to flop about.

What? Of course, he was going to act like a child. It was a very Yuhwa thing to do when wearing a sweater bigger than himself. It was a tradition! He couldn’t break tradition, of course.

It hadn’t occurred to him that Naomi might have followed him into his office, not that Yuhwa cared all that much. He didn’t doubt the other had seen his face occasionally.

The male briefly shifting from foot to foot as he danced about his office with no apparent goal in mind. His gaze lingering on the piles of paperwork scattered across his desk to the few parts and current projects he’d been working on. He tugged on his bottom lip, nibbling at the tender flesh until copper flooded his tastebuds, pulling him out of his musings.

Yuhwa blinked several times with a thoughtful hum. His hand raising to brush the pad of his thumb over his bloodied lips, smearing crimson. He snorted. He wondered if he looked like a Geisha with his porcelain skin and blood-painted lips that stung and trembled.

He shook his head, reaching out to wrap nimble fingers around the stems, listening to the crinkle of the thin plastic that contained the flower arrangement. His gaze was downcast, staring at his messy desk. Time to go! He was already late, as it was.

Eunwoo would kill me if he were still alive. Yuhwa would be late to his own funeral, if he could. That part was obvious. The male reached to slip on his face, finding comfort in the familiar weight against his flesh.

“I should make sure security is being strengthened.” He muttered. “I should—” Yuhwa hurried out of his office. The male was quick to flag someone down, bouncing on the pads of his feet. “Sorry to bother you with this task! Remind everyone that no one is allowed to test any of the prototypes until I return.” If things failed, at least I’d be the only one injured. He refused to put his own people at risk. It just wasn’t in his nature to risk the lives of others when he could very well do it himself.

“Oh! I’ll return in half-an-hour! I won’t be long! I promise! I have a few personal matters to attend!” He chirped. “Don’t do anything I’d do!” He shouted over his shoulder with a cackle. The male hurrying along the corridors with semi-grace. “Well! I’m off!” He called to those near him.

# # #​

It hadn’t taken long for Yuhwa to arrive at the graveyard. The resentful energy coating the area in a dingy black hue that only the pinkette could see. His lips curled into a frown, fingers twitching by his side until they curled into the baggy sleeves of his sweater. So much negative energy.

The pinkette didn’t realize his body had absorbed the blackened energy as dark lines appeared along his forearms, inching their way along his neck. His chest constricting with a whine, arms coming to wrap themselves around his slim torso, shoulders hunched over. Damnit.

His frame seemed to hide beneath the large sweater, appearing smaller than he actually was hoping to ward off the steady stream of yin flowing into his quivering frame. His light blue eyes glimmering crimson only for a fraction of a second.

It was sudden. The last wisps of darkness fading into his frame, leaving behind startling black tendrils that remained vibrant along porcelain skin. His frame remained hidden beneath the swell of his obsidian-hued sweater, allowing the familiar scents of cedarwood, pine, and vetiver to flood his senses, calming the male until he could straighten his spine.

The scene was familiar. This moment happening whenever he came to visit his half-brother’s grave. Yuhwa had been thankful for meeting the short-tempered individual, even if their time had been limited to Eunwoo’s sickness taking over.

His light blue hues tinted crimson scanned the rows until they rested on the familiar headstone: Eunwoo Aeng ‘son who had gone too soon.’ He grinned at the small piece of tape with Yuhwa’s horrendous handwriting: ‘My beloved angry grape! Just kidding! I miss you!’ He sniffled, stumbling over to the familiar grave, knees resting in the small divots from constant use.

He sat with legs tuckered underneath him like a cat with its tail curled around its paws, except the obsidian-hued sweater pooled around his meek frame, surrounding him in its delicious warmth. “Hey! Sorry I’m late! Things were hectic this morning, but look! I got flowers! Camellias and sunflowers! Betcha you don’t know what they mean.” He giggled. “I almost got another color, y’know?” He hummed, hugging the flower arrangement to his chest.

He propped the delicate arrangement against the headstone. The pads of his fingers brushing against the stone engravings until they landed on the piece of tape with a chuckle. I miss you. If he had ears, they’d certain be pulled flush against his scalp, brimming with sadness, so unlike his energetic and happy self.

It wasn’t until a force pulled him backward, stumbling over himself with a yelp. His mask askew. He blinked, head cocked to stare at the figure above him. “Eh?” He muttered dumbly. His mind still reeling to catch up with what transpired. His movements lethargic from the sudden tumble to hitting the back of his head against another headstone.

“Never would have thought to see you here fucker.” A voice that sent shivers down the lengths of his spine, chilling him to the bone. His eyes turning owlish at the sight of the red-haired male with eerier green hues.

“Sebastian?”

“Who else, fucker?” He sneered. Yuhwa could feel Sebastian’s boot press just beneath his floating ribs, drawing out a choked huff from the otherwise pliable male. It seemed his body stopped cooperating the second that voice graced his ears. “Paying respects to someone else you killed? My, my. I didn’t expect the leader of Ravinca to be so bloodthirsty. Got anyone else you’ve killed, huh?”

No. Yuhwa wanted to say, but it seems old habits died hard. Sebastian hissed. “Not gonna talk? You’ve always been pathetic. No wonder that dead ass of a fiance killed himself. Probably couldn’t stand the likes of you.” He sneered, digging the wedge deeper, shattering whatever confidence Yuhwa had. The pinkette shrunk into the depths of the obsidian-hued sweater. No. No. No.

“Don’t ever talk bad about him.” Yuhwa sneered. The male finding his voice at the mere mention of his fiance. He didn’t miss the way Sebastian’s face shifted to a look of fury.

“Ah? Not going to stand up for yourself, mhm? Too bad your poor little Junnie can’t come to the rescue. How many times had you begged for him to rescue you while you were in my grasps?” He sneered. “Pathetic little Yuhwa. Can’t even protect himself from the big bad wolf. I wonder what will happen to that dreadful clan under your leadership.”

“You’ll get them all killed. I have no doubt.”

“You’re nothing but a bed warmer.” The red-haired sneered. His boot pressing deeper against Yuhwa’s stomach, surely leaving a bruise against the milky white flesh. He’s right. It was the cold-hearted truth Yuhwa tried so hard to avoid. The inevitable truth that one day he’d destroy all that Ravinca stood for.

Sebastian crouched over Yuhwa’s frame, fingers reaching to curl around Yuhwa’s throat in a loose hold. “It seems you’ve forgotten who was in charge. I’d love to remind you. I bet you’d love that, don’t you my little pathetic Yuhwa. Of course, this is because I love you.” The male grinned, tightening his hold along Yuhwa’s slim neck. His grin widening at the choked whine that bubbled within the pinkette’s throat.

“Or should I expose you as the murderer you are? I’m sure people would love to hear that. Such an exciting event, mhm?” Sebastian eased his grip, his unoccupied hand curling into strawberry pink locks. “Oh, how I’ve missed this.”

Yuhwa grimaced. His own fingers curling around Sebastian’s wrist, feeling the familiar sensation of his power becknocking to be used. The darkness that resided within his compact frame bubbling at the seams, but the pinkette refused to take hold of it, allowing Sebastian to do however he pleased.

His older and newer self raging war within his mind, one side begging him to fling the other off of him while the other told him it’d be all over soon. Yuhwa wasn’t sure what to do. Fight? Give up?

Just his luck. Could this day get any worse? Apparently it can.

thoughts speech​





i forgot what it's like to be loved.





























































you're a little tragedy, aren't you?
























♡coded by uxie♡










YOU'RE A TRAGEDY
[ warning ! the second time skip within yuhwa's post will show signs of abuse ( physical and mental ) although it isn't graphic, but i thought i'd offer a warning if something ( even in the slightest ) is a bit uncomfortable or triggering ^^ ]

THE PINKETTE LET OUT A GIGGLE BEHIND his mask, grinning cheekily despite it being hidden. He stumbled onto his feet with the help of Naomi, head cocked with a hum of agreement. “You think?” The petite male tapped his chin in thought. Who knew how’d he taste to the ferals? His nose scrunched up at the thought, shaking his head with a smack of his lips, creating a small pop. Yuhwa was notorious for saying things out of the norm. It was just him. He wasn’t an average leader, most often questioning how he came into power, but Yuhwa didn’t mind. He was overly enthusiastic.

His head cocked, listening to the other with rapid attention. His light blue hues widening with curiosity and endearment. He hummed, clapping his hands together. “Yes! Flowers! I’ve got an angry grape to visit!” He chirped. Would he add to it? No. Yuhwa had a tendency to forget to elaborate on certain things, too lost in his own mind to realize he’d left anyone behind.

Yuhwa hummed in agreement, his attention shifting to the task at hand. “That’d be great. Hopefully, with the increase … things won’t be so hectic.” He mumbled the last part. His finger slipping beneath his mask to nibble at his nail, lost in thought. What if tightening security wouldn’t be enough? What if that caused them to last out? Would more die? His stomach churned at the thought. He’d hate to think more would die. If so, Yuhwa would be at fault. The pinkette fought back the whimper that wanted to escape, instead letting his canines sink into the flesh of his fingertip.

His fingers skimmed the bitten flesh of his lips, blinking several times. “Did you know that if you bit your finger, it takes the same force as if you were biting into a carrot?” He announced. His mind was a whirling mess of carrots and what ifs.

The pinkette was pulled out of his thoughts at the bold statement, blinking owlishly up at the other. He hummed. “You’re right.” His shoulders slumped. “I guess visiting the ferals will have to wait.” He paused, lips curling downward. “Regardless, I’d rather be there when and if we test them. I don’t feel comfortable sending anyone near that place.”

He let out a whine. His fingers combing through strawberry pink locks. “If only I weren’t the leader.” His cheeks puffed out in a childlike pout. Things would have been different. He doubted anyone would care much if he died then. He doubted he’d survive this long. The male was a walking health hazard to himself, even he’d admit to that.

He sighed. His shoulder briefly bumping into Naomi with a chirp. “Sorry!” He ruffled his pinkish locks with a trill. His body wobbling from side to side. “I might have lost—” He paused. “Nevermind! I didn’t lose anything! I swear!” He waved his hands.

“I wasn’t late this time, though!” He attempted to change the subject. Abort! Abort! Time to go, Yuhwa! He hurried out the door without waiting for Naomi. The male tucking his hands into his armpits with a trill.

His body shivering despite the relatively normal temperatures. He made a mental note to grab one of his thicker jackets, preferably a sweater he’d stolen and downright refused to give back.

Should I remind Naomi to change their clothes? I don’t want them to get sick. He worried his bottom lip. “Peaches?” He called. “Don’t forget to change out of those wet clothes!” He chirped. The pinkette bouncing on the balls of his feet as he hurried off from the other without a second glance.

# # #​

The pinkette hurried into the building he’d grown to call his second home, or as much as a home as it could get. His light blue hues lightening up at the familiar faces of those within the clan. The male bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waved in giddy excitement at being somewhere familiar.

He hummed. His hands tucked neatly inside the sleeves of his jacket as he hurried to his office. The male offering a quick wave to those near as he slipped inside. His shoulders sagged from the weight of what had transpired earlier. His hand reaching to pluck his mask off his face, relishing in the cool air that brushed against soft porcelain skin.

Yuhwa raised a hand, thumb brushing across his high cheekbones. His light blue hues dancing from object to object. “ I hope everyone is doing alright.” He mumbled, biting the tip of his nail. A soft trill escaped his parted lips. His gaze wandering over to the flowers he’d gotten before the meeting, lips curling into a sad smile despite the happy hue dancing within his eyes. “Guess I’m a little late, mhm?” He chuckled.

He slipped out of his puffy jacket, shivering as the cold nipped at his exposed skin, creating gooseflesh. His nose scrunching up at the onslaught of coldness that attached delicate flesh. “Cold. Cold. Cold.” He chanted.

The pinkette dancing around his office in search of a baggy sweatshirt to pull over his exposed frame. His brows furrowing in concentration until a small ah-ha escaped, holding up an old sweater that still smelt of cedarwood, pine, and vetiver. He let out a keen, burring his nose into the soft fabric with a sigh, holding it close to his chest. It was one of the few things he cherished after—Yuhwa shook his head. No need to remember.

He wouldn’t be able to handle the memories, both good and bad.

Why was it that even the wonderful memories seemed to be the most painful?

He slipped it on, allowing it to engulf his slight frame with a chirp. His light blue hues brightening in happiness despite everything that’s happened. It was home. One of the few things he had of him. It still smelt like him, even after so long.

He giggled, arms stretched out to show just how big it was on the male. His arms were swallowed by the large sleeves that seemed to be too long for his arms. The corner of his eyes curled, humor dancing within the light blue depths as he waved his arms, allowing the fabric to flop about.

What? Of course, he was going to act like a child. It was a very Yuhwa thing to do when wearing a sweater bigger than himself. It was a tradition! He couldn’t break tradition, of course.

It hadn’t occurred to him that Naomi might have followed him into his office, not that Yuhwa cared all that much. He didn’t doubt the other had seen his face occasionally.

The male briefly shifting from foot to foot as he danced about his office with no apparent goal in mind. His gaze lingering on the piles of paperwork scattered across his desk to the few parts and current projects he’d been working on. He tugged on his bottom lip, nibbling at the tender flesh until copper flooded his tastebuds, pulling him out of his musings.

Yuhwa blinked several times with a thoughtful hum. His hand raising to brush the pad of his thumb over his bloodied lips, smearing crimson. He snorted. He wondered if he looked like a Geisha with his porcelain skin and blood-painted lips that stung and trembled.

He shook his head, reaching out to wrap nimble fingers around the stems, listening to the crinkle of the thin plastic that contained the flower arrangement. His gaze was downcast, staring at his messy desk. Time to go! He was already late, as it was.

Eunwoo would kill me if he were still alive. Yuhwa would be late to his own funeral, if he could. That part was obvious. The male reached to slip on his face, finding comfort in the familiar weight against his flesh.

“I should make sure security is being strengthened.” He muttered. “I should—” Yuhwa hurried out of his office. The male was quick to flag someone down, bouncing on the pads of his feet. “Sorry to bother you with this task! Remind everyone that no one is allowed to test any of the prototypes until I return.” If things failed, at least I’d be the only one injured. He refused to put his own people at risk. It just wasn’t in his nature to risk the lives of others when he could very well do it himself.

“Oh! I’ll return in half-an-hour! I won’t be long! I promise! I have a few personal matters to attend!” He chirped. “Don’t do anything I’d do!” He shouted over his shoulder with a cackle. The male hurrying along the corridors with semi-grace. “Well! I’m off!” He called to those near him.

# # #​

It hadn’t taken long for Yuhwa to arrive at the graveyard. The resentful energy coating the area in a dingy black hue that only the pinkette could see. His lips curled into a frown, fingers twitching by his side until they curled into the baggy sleeves of his sweater. So much negative energy.

The pinkette didn’t realize his body had absorbed the blackened energy as dark lines appeared along his forearms, inching their way along his neck. His chest constricting with a whine, arms coming to wrap themselves around his slim torso, shoulders hunched over. Damnit.

His frame seemed to hide beneath the large sweater, appearing smaller than he actually was hoping to ward off the steady stream of yin flowing into his quivering frame. His light blue eyes glimmering crimson only for a fraction of a second.

It was sudden. The last wisps of darkness fading into his frame, leaving behind startling black tendrils that remained vibrant along porcelain skin. His frame remained hidden beneath the swell of his obsidian-hued sweater, allowing the familiar scents of cedarwood, pine, and vetiver to flood his senses, calming the male until he could straighten his spine.

The scene was familiar. This moment happening whenever he came to visit his half-brother’s grave. Yuhwa had been thankful for meeting the short-tempered individual, even if their time had been limited to Eunwoo’s sickness taking over.

His light blue hues tinted crimson scanned the rows until they rested on the familiar headstone: Eunwoo Aeng ‘son who had gone too soon.’ He grinned at the small piece of tape with Yuhwa’s horrendous handwriting: ‘My beloved angry grape! Just kidding! I miss you!’ He sniffled, stumbling over to the familiar grave, knees resting in the small divots from constant use.

He sat with legs tuckered underneath him like a cat with its tail curled around its paws, except the obsidian-hued sweater pooled around his meek frame, surrounding him in its delicious warmth. “Hey! Sorry I’m late! Things were hectic this morning, but look! I got flowers! Camellias and sunflowers! Betcha you don’t know what they mean.” He giggled. “I almost got another color, y’know?” He hummed, hugging the flower arrangement to his chest.

He propped the delicate arrangement against the headstone. The pads of his fingers brushing against the stone engravings until they landed on the piece of tape with a chuckle. I miss you. If he had ears, they’d certain be pulled flush against his scalp, brimming with sadness, so unlike his energetic and happy self.

It wasn’t until a force pulled him backward, stumbling over himself with a yelp. His mask askew. He blinked, head cocked to stare at the figure above him. “Eh?” He muttered dumbly. His mind still reeling to catch up with what transpired. His movements lethargic from the sudden tumble to hitting the back of his head against another headstone.

“Never would have thought to see you here fucker.” A voice that sent shivers down the lengths of his spine, chilling him to the bone. His eyes turning owlish at the sight of the red-haired male with eerier green hues.

“Sebastian?”

“Who else, fucker?” He sneered. Yuhwa could feel Sebastian’s boot press just beneath his floating ribs, drawing out a choked huff from the otherwise pliable male. It seemed his body stopped cooperating the second that voice graced his ears. “Paying respects to someone else you killed? My, my. I didn’t expect the leader of Ravinca to be so bloodthirsty. Got anyone else you’ve killed, huh?”

No. Yuhwa wanted to say, but it seems old habits died hard. Sebastian hissed. “Not gonna talk? You’ve always been pathetic. No wonder that dead ass of a fiance killed himself. Probably couldn’t stand the likes of you.” He sneered, digging the wedge deeper, shattering whatever confidence Yuhwa had. The pinkette shrunk into the depths of the obsidian-hued sweater. No. No. No.

“Don’t ever talk bad about him.” Yuhwa sneered. The male finding his voice at the mere mention of his fiance. He didn’t miss the way Sebastian’s face shifted to a look of fury.

“Ah? Not going to stand up for yourself, mhm? Too bad your poor little Junnie can’t come to the rescue. How many times had you begged for him to rescue you while you were in my grasps?” He sneered. “Pathetic little Yuhwa. Can’t even protect himself from the big bad wolf. I wonder what will happen to that dreadful clan under your leadership.”

“You’ll get them all killed. I have no doubt.”

“You’re nothing but a bed warmer.” The red-haired sneered. His boot pressing deeper against Yuhwa’s stomach, surely leaving a bruise against the milky white flesh. He’s right. It was the cold-hearted truth Yuhwa tried so hard to avoid. The inevitable truth that one day he’d destroy all that Ravinca stood for.

Sebastian crouched over Yuhwa’s frame, fingers reaching to curl around Yuhwa’s throat in a loose hold. “It seems you’ve forgotten who was in charge. I’d love to remind you. I bet you’d love that, don’t you my little pathetic Yuhwa. Of course, this is because I love you.” The male grinned, tightening his hold along Yuhwa’s slim neck. His grin widening at the choked whine that bubbled within the pinkette’s throat.

“Or should I expose you as the murderer you are? I’m sure people would love to hear that. Such an exciting event, mhm?” Sebastian eased his grip, his unoccupied hand curling into strawberry pink locks. “Oh, how I’ve missed this.”

Yuhwa grimaced. His own fingers curling around Sebastian’s wrist, feeling the familiar sensation of his power becknocking to be used. The darkness that resided within his compact frame bubbling at the seams, but the pinkette refused to take hold of it, allowing Sebastian to do however he pleased.

His older and newer self raging war within his mind, one side begging him to fling the other off of him while the other told him it’d be all over soon. Yuhwa wasn’t sure what to do. Fight? Give up?

Just his luck. Could this day get any worse? Apparently it can.

thoughts speech​
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