Fantasy 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 — THE STORY

[qunqun]

THE CHIMERA.

scroll

Dante

Fiocchi

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

Drowned rat

OUTFIT

Fancy drowned rat

LOCATION

Bar

MENTIONS

Antarin

INTERACTS

Mypilot

Only Acting — Kero Kero Bonito

scroll

Icarian Cloud.

To reach for silver lined impossibilities amongst thunderous perils

Chapter Two.

Dante officially hated boats. He’d ran into quite a few people he’d pissed off in some way or another at this point, and honestly he was fed up-

Treats you right, stop complaining.

-he couldn’t quit now, though. He had to just take a deep breath, and let the tension melt from his body.

Being stuck in his cabin and waiting to die, though, was not a particularly fun experience as he imagined the sea water filling his lungs. How the dark void would open up and he could so easily free fall into its loving embrace where everything will be finally still.

Until then, nicotine smoke would have to do.

Thrown about and rattled, he climbed out of the cabin with a newfound appreciation of life and its disgusting ability to keep crawling on despite his best efforts.

At least the room that he was given was moderately alright, even if a not insignificant part of him felt like this reprieve was the equivalent of the afterlife’s boring waiting room rather than an actual proper place.

Feeling mildly like a rattled baby, he’d never been one for feeling comfortable stewing in the silence of his own thoughts, so he fixed his hair as best he could. The curls didn't feel like laying flat today after all of that, he would have to live with the physical imperfection of wild locks today.

He sat down with a drink and took a sidelong glance at the guy across the table where he’d sat.

Antarin.

Interesting.

The sullen sulking of a halfdrowned kitten wiped away, the rich heir was back with a charming crookedly perfect smile and a twinkle in his eye that suddenly made him seem all 20 something green years of his age, rather than the slimy 30 something he usually was able to pull off.

“Hey. I don’t think we’ve met. Dante Fiocchi. It’s a pleasure.” A warm extended hand to shake with practiced perfection. Well, cold because he hadn’t managed to fully warm his fingers on the fire quite yet, but warm in the familiar sense. “Did the torrential downpour rattle you as well?”

The slightest dry hyperbole in his voice as he tinged his approach with all sorts of charm.

And not a single fucking mention of contractual language! Look at him go!

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Pepsionne]

THE HUNTSMAN.

scroll

MAGNUS

MOOD

AGGRAVATED

OUTFIT

Black obvs

LOCATION

THE HAVEN INN

MENTIONS

MENTIONS !!

INTERACTS

Gao Ren

BLACK WIDOW — MARTIN PHIPPS.

scroll

DEATH TWITCHES MY EAR

"Live," he says,
"I am coming."

CHAPTER TWO.

“Fuck you,” Ren’s words spit out like acid, intending to burn through whatever fabric of civility had laid carefully between them.

Magnus remained unflinching to the insult and fear fueled apology that soon followed it. His skin was thick to cut, hardened by years worth of vile phrases hurled at him when it became clear he had no intention of delivering mercy.

The bounty hunter’s expression curled into a sneer. Like a dog recoiling to bite, Magnus dodged the gleaming projectile with ease. He growled as he lunged for Ren, blade slicing through thick, quilted fabric instead of flesh and tendons.

He caught the man halfway through a desperate lunge of gangly limbs for the door. They stepped together once, twice, legs carrying them in tandem until the wall met with Magnus’ irritated force. With Ren now pinned against the wall, Magnus leaned forward, teeth bared to warn off further thoughts of escape.

Steel kissed the vulnerable skin of Ren’s throat. A bloom of red sprouted against his tan flesh where the pressure of Magnus’ grip began to lean in with the bite of a kill.

Closer than ever, standing eye to eye with the man--something strange washed over Magnus. What was this feeling? Hesitance? But for what? It wasn’t attraction, it wasn’t empathy. His fingers grew sweaty with the promise of death that clung to them.

Grey fire burned into the bottomless liquid of Ren’s gaze. For some reason, he was searching for something there. An echo, a gasp of air. Maybe it was the storm that had thrown him off balance. He never went this long between kills.

“I’ll allow you a last word,” Magnus growled.

This close up, he could feel the heat radiating from Ren. A reminder of the life he was about to take poured from the man in waves, washing over Magnus’ senses until nausea began to bloom.

The rise and fall of breath and the dark strands of hair it stirred in its wake. The subtle sound of Ren swallowing. A deep cut of shadow emerged from furrowed brows. This bounty was taking too long.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[roxybirdie]

THE MAESTRO.

scroll

鸿參宿

"ALTALUNE"

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

I hate storms...

OUTFIT

BLUE LACE

LOCATION

INN ROOM

MENTIONS

DESERT ROSE, TIBERIUS, NPC

INTERACTS

N/A

TAGS

q r o w , Nifty

DIAMOND — SPG COVER.

scroll

MOONCHILD,

If you are the moon, it's not the sun that reminds you of the light; it's the darkness that makes you shine.

CHAPTER 3.

Their husband wanted them dead.

The polished dagger gleamed under the flickering candlelight. Their nails were like sharp talons and dug into the arm holding the dagger like a raptor seizing its prey. A thin line of blood seeped down their neck. Their iron grip was the only thing holding the dagger back.​

Their darling husband put a hit on their head and hired a bounty hunter to kill them. In retrospect, they should have seen it coming. Viren Goldwyn was an extremely arrogant and pretentious man. After they tarnished his precious vanity, he was out for blood.

Fear threatened to cloud their judgement. Despite their trembling grip, their obsidian eyes sparked with unyielding determination. "Let's make a deal," they announced. They pointedly ignored the sharp blade digging into their neck, threatening to slash their throat open. "I can double the amount of what my husband is paying you. If coin won't sway you, I can offer information on him." Their nails dug deeper.

"You seem like a woman who values intel above gold. If you listen to what I have to say, I'll make it worth your time."​

Deep down, a part of them – foolishly naïve and desperate for their happily ever after – hoped their husband would forget about them. Unfortunately, the Archduke was on a warpath. If he hired a bounty hunter to kill them, he will not rest until they were six feet under.

Slim fingers applied the peachy rouge delicately on their cupid bow lips. "If you refuse to back down..." They raised their ornate hand mirror and tilted their head, studying the soft glossy shade. "I'll play your wicked game of cat and mouse, Viren. However..." Altalune brushed their thumb across their cheekbone. One month passed since they boarded the Leviathan. A few days ago, the mottled bruise on their cheek vanished. Additionally, the bruises on their wrists and ankles disappeared. Unfortunately, their ribs remained tender; the bruises haven't healed completely.

"This time, you'll be the mouse. I will hunt you down until you're six feet under," Altalune murmured. They dipped their fingers in a different compact jar of rouge – the delicate rosy shade complemented their silvery white hair – and applied the cosmetic on their cheekbones. "I'm not the same naïve performer you met in Sirocco. I'll make you pay for what you did to me and my family." They shifted their head from left to right, inspecting the rouge. The delicate color breathed life into their fawny beige skin. "Even if it means making a deal with the devil. At least she listened to me..."

Altalune lowered their hand mirror and placed it on their nightstand. "I hope you rot in the darkest pits of hell, darling husband of mine," they whispered. They ignored the stinging in their eyes. They refused to let the tears fall. "I hate how you made me resort to this. Hiring a bounty hunter makes me no better than you..." They breathed in deeply and exhaled through their nostrils. "This is your price for freedom, Aryon. You said you're willing to do anything to be free. There's no going back now." They carded their fingers through their hair. Braiding their hair calmed them. After a horrific squall left the Leviathan stranded on a mysterious remote island, their nerves were undoubtedly frayed.

"All you can do is move forward," Altalune declared.

A few hours passed since the unscheduled detour. Despite their misfortune, the island wasn't completely empty. For instance, it hosted a massive inn large enough to house the entirety of the Leviathan. Altalune never encountered an establishment capable of housing over fifty guests; every person on the Leviathan was assigned their own room.

In hindsight, it sounded impossible and downright suspicious. Unfortunately, the grueling trip from the ship to the inn – darling Tiberius was kind enough to carry their bags to their room, bless his bleeding heart – left them utterly exhausted.

It was night time. Their paranoia could wait until morning.

Altalune gazed at the window overlooking the sea. "At least I have an ocean view," they muttered. They weaved their fingers through their silvery hair, forming an elegant and intricate waterfall braid. While the heavy thunderstorm subsided, it continued to rain outside. With their back facing the door, Altalune failed to notice a shadow slithering inside their room like a serpent waiting to strike.

♡coded by uxie♡