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sticksandbones2025-04-11 01:01 am
unheiring) wrote in sticksandbones2025-04-11 01:01 am
Would You Invite Me In Again?
[Late in April, a note hastily appears within the netbooks. The handwriting is both shaky and heavy, and there are parts that almost look as if the pen had tore through the page.]
bar is closed.
[Sure enough, attempting to enter The Watchtower is a futile effort. The door appears to be barred, and a similar note has been left on the door. Peering in through the windows reveals an interior that almost looks ransacked. Keep looking, and you might even spot the spirit that would normally tend bar in his absence. The figure simply stares outside, unseeing but mournful all the same.
Linger any longer, and Polaris might swoop down. She won't attack or chase you off, merely tilt her head this way and that. Something has happened. She doesn't understand what.]
bar is closed.
[Sure enough, attempting to enter The Watchtower is a futile effort. The door appears to be barred, and a similar note has been left on the door. Peering in through the windows reveals an interior that almost looks ransacked. Keep looking, and you might even spot the spirit that would normally tend bar in his absence. The figure simply stares outside, unseeing but mournful all the same.
Linger any longer, and Polaris might swoop down. She won't attack or chase you off, merely tilt her head this way and that. Something has happened. She doesn't understand what.]
1/?
He doesn't remember what followed, or what comfort he tried to offer. The return to the Watchtower passes in a blur. The only thing he does know is that he winds up in his room at some point, and simply... collapses.
He lays in his bed for hours. He has a mind to do so for several more. But something sinister whispers within his mind, reminding him that the last time he lay idle after someone's death, more people had suffered. He would only bring more misery if he wallowed in his own.
And so he forces himself downstairs. He'll open the bar if he must, serve drinks to anyone else who might be grieving. He's worked so hard to claw himself back into something halfway healthy. He can't crumble now, not when he's promised Kiera to never leave her side.
Except, the moment he leaves the stairwell and enters the main room, it quickly becomes clear that he can't do it at at all. He stares for far too long at the spot that Clive had long ago claimed for himself. He remembers the long nights and tender glances, careful and hidden at first, then open and adoring. Every glass topped off, every bowl refilled. And of course, every gentle touch to Clive's shoulders when he'd spent too long hunched over his work.
Now, there was nothing to show for it but an empty space. It has a gravity to it, a weight that threatens to pull him in and swallow him whole. There would never be another loving moment spent there, not between them at least. He thinks of someone else coming to call that space their own, blissfully unaware of the history or loss.
It's too much for him to bare.
He doesn't realize he's screaming until his throat start to hurt. He doesn't realize he's moved until his boot collides with the side of the table, sending it hurtling toward a wall. The chair is knocked aside in the process, but it isn't enough for Luca. He grabs it and hurls it toward another table, feeling no satisfaction as the two collided and a leg broke off.
His breaths come heavy at first. Then fast. At some point, they turn to sobs. He tries to pull himself together, but finds himself unable to gain any sort of leverage against the onslaught of emotion. The weight pulls him to the floor, and for a long moment, all he can do is wrap his arms around himself and weep. He tries so hard not to, desperate to keep it contained. He can't break, not again. Not when he'd just gotten Kiera back.
But when he looks up, he finds his own eyes staring back at him. The worn face of his father, there one second and gone the next. The spirit had always been a warm reminder, a promise that he would never forget his father's face. Now, however, it feels like a mockery of his grief.
He can't take it any more. To hell with his promises, they meant as little to this world as his unspoken love had. He can't stomach this place. His left hand reaches for his right wrist, snatching off the bracelet there. The Phoenix's presence flows back in, its flames overriding the flickering ember that Clive had accidentally put into his heart.
There you are, it calls to him. There is a smugness in that tone, but Luca ignores it. It can act as it wishes, so long as it does what its told.
The bracelet is set on the top of the bar, while the keys to the building are snatched from their post. He slams the door behind him as he goes, then locks it tight. He has half of a mind to throw the keys away and burn the place to the ground, before ultimately deciding not to. The spirit within might have been a cruel reminder, but the building itself was still a home.
No, the only thing that would burn would be the forest. He knows the Phoenix will fight him, just as surely as the trees would. It won't stop him. He turns to the trees and the dim beyond it, and begins to march.
Whatever was out there would pay for what it had taken. That had always been Luca's way, hadn't it?]
no subject
Zahliya spots Luca storming off from his usual perch, and he knows better than to let him go... at least not alone. He can't go alone. So he flies down, cresting into a proper landing position at Luca's side, and grabs onto his wrist.]
What do you think you're doing?!
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I'm going to - [He doesn't exactly have a plan, but the words bubble out all the same.] - burn the beastsdamned place to the ground. Find the false god and kill him myself if I must.
[Only now does he turn to Zahliya. He doesn't meet the gargoyle's eyes, though. They're averted skyward and blinking rapidly. His eyes still burn from his earlier outburst. If he's not careful, he's going to break down right in front of Zahliya, and he won't get anything done if that happens.]
So, let me go.
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[The cutting brutality is fully intentional, not because he doesn't feel the same — if he could have dealt with this situation himself by now, he would have — but because he won't know what to do if he lets Luca go and the man dies for his crimes.]
You don't even know where He is. Are you going to burn Moder's forest too? Are you going to deal with Zonari and the Warden on your lonesome?
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[He doesn't know if the Guardians are subject to the same miserable blessing as those brought back to this world, if they would wake in the Garden should the worst happen. He doubts it. There was a reason Aurora had not simply returned, but had to rely on their efforts. So maybe that was his advantage. He would die, and then come right back.]
No matter how many times he breaks me, I can return. And I will keep there's nothing left of me.
[Maybe it would happen sooner, rather than later. Maybe he could rip these horrible memories, every loving touch and exchanged glance, from his very mind.
And yet, for just a moment, Zahliya manages to soften him. Angry as he is, he doesn't want anyone else to suffer. And Moder had been nothing but kind to not just him, but everyone in these woods. She, at least, deserved better.
But Zahliya makes a mistake in mentioning Zonari. He thinks of the gargoyle woman, and then of his sibling's stupid obsession with her. His mind does the rest, imagining the same stony fingers that hold him in place wrapping around Kiera's neck, killing them. Or perhaps, she might simply appear and take Kiera away, leaving without a trust just as -
He doesn't let the thought finish. His head spins, his chest aches, and all he can do is scream. With the guttural, desperate noise, a wash of flame rushes out from him. It won't hurt Zahliya, but maybe it'll surprise him enough for Luca to wrench away.
He turns to the nearest tree, throat ragged from the first noise, and lets another cry out as his fingers become flaming talons, He rips into the trunk as if it might have been the very cause of all of his suffering. Only once the flames take root does he move to the next.
Zahliya isn't alone in trying to stop him, either. The Phoenix rails against Luca, but the primal and desperate surge of emotion is too much.
He doesn't scream a third time, at least not so wildly, so wordlessly. He turns his head to the sky instead, staring wildly through the trees as he begins to form words.]
Come out, you coward. Before I burn your entire home to the ground! [He scoffs hard enough to scratch at his throat, then spits onto the ground.] Unless you want to send your bitch of a daughter to play instead.
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He does back up, alarmed more at the swiping of flame than he is Luca's tone. He can handle being yelled at — despite being the youngest and most "childish" of the Guardians, despite everything Callan says to him, he's not just some little kid. Still, he can't say he loves the idea of Luca dying repeatedly just because he has a vendetta. He can't say he loves not being listened to.
Suddenly the anger bubbles up to the surface, and instead of being calm and controlled and, perhaps, a touch forceful... it explodes out of him, sparks skittering along his horns as his own control wanes.]
Why is he more important than I am, Luca?!
[It's a feeling that Zahliya can honestly say is foreign to him — he hadn't thought that in the past, and he wouldn't say he's jealous.]
You're willing to die for him, but you aren't willing to stay behind for me?! Wake up! The more you die, the more you feed him, the more the rest of us lose! The more I lose!
cw: self-harm uhhh
And then the Phoenix speaks. Listen to him, you fool, it demands, and suddenly, the fury erupts once more. He whips around to Zahliya, storming across the distance between them. The sparks should make him hesitate. Instead he leans in until they're face to face.
He snarls when he speaks.]
Because at least he tried to save me. [He reaches out, shoving Zahliya once, or at least trying to before turning away once more. The rant doesn't stop.] He didn't know me from anyone fucking else, but he swore to take the Phoenix from me. He tried! And when he couldn't, he found another way.
[He's satisfied with the damage done to the tree he'd been attacking. He moves on to yet another one. It's hard to say if it's the smoke or his own tears that makes his voice so rough, but he doesn't sound pretty either way as he begins hacking into another trunk.]
No one else. Not you, not my own sibling, ever tried to do anything about it. I was rotting away with it, and no one lifted a finger!
[He gouges four lines a piece, one from each hand, before drawing them into himself. Talons plunge into flesh, blood sizzling and bubbling as he cuts down into the bone. If he feels the pain, he doesn't say a thing.]
And it's not just him, either! It's this place! Everything is a cruel taunt from this fucking Beast in the woods. Every day I have to look at my own damn father, knowing I couldn't save him.
I can't - save anyone.
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Callan would call him a child for how he responds to this. "Can't even put up a fight, Little Goat?" He'd say, if he were here to witness the way the hurt flits across Zahliya's features. Of course, the thing that links him closer to humanity is how deeply he feels things, and how much that comment gouges him.
Yes, of course. He's always had issues with his confidence, too, and it apparently takes very little to destabilize it. Had he truly done that badly? Yes, he had, apparently. Was he supposed to know better? Probably, it seems like.
The bursts of green flame die down, and he takes a step back, shaking his head. If he just carefully shuts the emotions off, maybe he can speak as coldly as he wants to, without his voice wavering?]
Right.
Well, since your affections for me were apparently based on my usefulness to you and nothing more, you can consider this clearly one-sided fling over.
[It's wrong of him to pivot on his hooves and take to the sky to leave Luca to deal with the forest himself, but...
Apparently, Zahliya is the most selfish person on the planet. Therefore, he's opting to be selfish, headed back to the Grove to go sulk.]
no subject
Were he in a rational state of mind, he would understand. He had been so cruel, holding Zahliya accountable for something he had never asked for. He can only imagine how it must feel, to watch someone tear themselves apart for another, ignoring their still beating love for the one still there.
But Luca isn't rational right now. As he watches Zahliya take to the skies, the grief he feels only expounds. He had been right to be angry, because he had always been alone. It was only ever a fling, Zahliya didn't care, no one cared.
No one.
No one.
Luca Aurelius, last of his blood, had no one. This had always been the case.
He doesn't even give Zahliya the satisfaction of throwing a final, angry fireball at him. No, he simply turns to the trees, which all but seem to lean into his anguish and drink deep of it. The flames at his fingers sputter out, but he doesn't need them. Three trees burn. If he can't take down a fourth, then he'll scrape his fingers raw and tear his nails loose trying.]
no subject
Part of her wants to roll her eyes. A lot of her doesn't want to entertain Luca's tantruming — she's actually here for your sister, buddy, and the time mage — but Zonari physically cannot resist making a snide comment from where she's currently perched on a strange mount. It is not the Warden this time.]
My, my, what happened to that saccharine moment the two of you shared when you were trying to end my life?
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The forest takes. It taunts. And he is so tired.]
You. [He doesn't hesitate. He doesn't care if his flames waver even as he summons them to his hands, or that his blade had been left behind in his rage.] Leave, now. Never come here or speak to my sister again you traitorous bitch.
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[The fact that she doesn't move speaks volumes. She is not the least bit intimidated by this whole display.]
What do you call it... a one-sided relationship? Was that whole thing you did an act just to motivate him? You're a master manipulator! Well done!
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[If she's not intimidated, then Luca will make her shy away. He casts his arm out in a wide arc, sending a fresh wave of flame toward her and her mount. A second blast follows the mirror her second speech.]
I'm not the manipulator. You're the one that pulls the strings. You're the one that takes. And I won't let you take Kiera.
[He is so very small against the mount she's on, but Luca lunges nonetheless.]
no subject
If Luca gets too close, the horselike thing Will try to stomp him flat with those hooves.]
Take her? [Good stars, this child is issues galore!] I haven't pulled any strings, in fact. We had a deal going, and I'm a woman of my word.
You might singlehandedly make me go back on it at this rate! Try your hardest not to damn the others you claim to care about. I'm the one thing standing between you people and total annihilation, remember?
no subject
But she does make a point. He might not believe that she is single-handedly keeping their destruction at bay, but lashing out at her was only going to get Kiera into trouble. He can stay his hand for that, if nothing else.
He'd be a fool to turn his back on her, but what about this day has been anything less than foolish? He turns on his heel, exposing himself. Maybe he hopes she'll take advantage of it. He wouldn't have to feel guilty if he ripped her throat out in the end. It would have been self-defense.]
The moment you slip, I'll kill you myself.
[For now, he's going to attempt to destroy another tree.]
2/?
And then the flood begins.
He sees the council, both new and old faces in seats he never wanted to take. And in the midst of their meeting, he sees the sharp-toothed grin of the one person Luca never would have wanted to come across again. Alexei he had called himself once. Alazon was the title he had been bestowed. The youngest emissary to be anointed by the Cataegan Queen, her precious scout. River, as he playfully named himself.
Whatever his name or title, it didn’t matter. What did was the fact that he had come to Renova. It was far too close to Luca’s own arrival to be a coincidence. He had followed the Phoenix.
The rush doesn’t stop there. They’re thrown together, no doubt by Alazon’s own machinations. Luca tries to twist his planning to his own benefit, tricking River into killing him by the river late one evening. He succeeded only in invoking his sibling’s wrath, and exposing his secret to her. A promise made, one to keep fighting, to give her a chance to save him.
No one lifted a finger he had shot back at Zahliya. What a fool he was.
And what a fool he continued to be. With each brushed elbow, Luca and River grew closer. As the festival they planned together came to fruition, they would share a dance. Luca would feel some locked away part of his heart begin to bloom.
Only to be shattered.
A dead guard, killed by the same poison that had brought down Cyrus. A warning, it had felt like. And despite both Luca and Kiera’s promises to not investigate, they had. How could they not, when they were both so terrified of the memory. And though his affections had been burgeoning, it was not enough to prevent him from being suspicious of River. Not that he was without his own strange behavior, but those answers would avail themselves soon enough.
Luca, just as he had today, succumbed to his rage. Suspecting the worst in River, he attacked. His efforts were discovered, and though River made no effort to implicate him, the truth would soon ripple outward. He was arrested for the assault, dragging Kiera down in a fury as she tried to defend him. Though a Cataegan ambassador would soon claim the reports were false, the truth was still out there. And River was now missing.
But not for long. River would return, only to reveal to Luca that, like his sister, was a dhampir. Though the Leviathan’s blessing had absolved him of whatever influence the Butterfly might have had, he was still a slave to his thirst. As an apology, Luca offered his blood first, and then his body.
That night, though, they would come under attack. All part of the plan, River had explained. He lured out the killers, and would proudly display them the next day. He was, of course, quick to drag Luca back to bed. Some things were not in his playbook.
It should have been peaceful after that. But as Luca grew more familiar with River’s bed, danger loomed. And one morning, the dam would break. Word of Luca’s attack on River had gotten back to Cataega. Another emissary had been dispatched, Meretrix.
Though River would try to assure Luca that it would be okay, Luca began to lose sleep. Nightmares would plague him, all of them ending with a woman standing over him. She hair the same as his, and stared at him with the eyes he always found in the mirror. He would wake before she killed him, but the dreams would haunt him even into the day.
And one day, he lost control.
The Phoenix broke for the southern border, preferring the company of bloodsuckers than the emissary it seemed to fear. Later, he would be told that Kiera knocked him out, and was forced to seek River’s help. When he arrived, he would carry Luca back.
Luca was just beginning to wake when the Emissary arrived. They were trapped in the middle of the woods, and all the woman seemed to want was Luca. Both Kiera and River were easily warded off, with the emissary successfully reaching Luca. Though she had changed, though her hair was a sickly white and her eyes a haunted grey, he recognzed her. It was the woman who had haunted his dreams.Though she weighed killing him outright, she instead gave him a command.
“Kill it.” And with her words came memory. The path to the Phoenix.
He would fall unconscious again. When he woke, he felt the compulsion of the Emissary within his mind. He marched toward the Phoenix’s lair fearlessly, with her single command keeping the Phoenix from altering his path. Kiera and River, with no other choice, flanked him.
With River’s own watery weapon in hand, he would face the Beast that had tormented him for so long. And he would bring it down, absorbing its power in the process.
The last memory that plays is a simple one, at the gates leaving Aerea. River offered a fond farewell, called back home. He promised to find Luca again, to challenge him now that he was a Beast in his own right.
As the two turned to go for a drink, as the dream began to end, something strange crossed over Kiera’s face.
And then the dream began to shift.]
3/?
Despite it being his dream, Luca can do nothing to stop it. He rails against his mental prison, but can only fall to the ground. Upon the firmament they crash. Beiwe’s horn is cracked, a pain that Luca feels vividly within his own head.
And beside him, the dragon begins to bleed. Somewhere, the memories blur together. Beiwe’s eyes become someone else’s watching a different dragon, far larger and devastating, writhe upon the ground. Where its heart would stop, the ground would rise up and —
Beiwe begs for it to stop.
To her credit, the memory does.]
4/4
His head aches, both from the rock he had hit and the memories surging through them. He sits up, feeling as if only five minutes had past, while still shouldering the weight of three months. He feels… so much, but mostly it’s guilt. Three months, and the outpouring of love from those he had left behind, had done much to ease Luca’s aching soul. It now serves as a balm for his grief, soothing the ache left by Clive’s departure and leaving only the realization of the damage he had caused in its wake.
There’s so much he has to fix, so much he has to talk about.
But one thing stands out. He forces himself to his feet, trudging past Zonari if she waits. If he isn’t stopped, then Luca veers toward the lake. He knows the old bones there, has heard whispers of their origins. And once he finds the skull and its protective carvings, he kneels before it.]
Please. Take this gift.
[The Phoenix had given much, but lessons were not one of them. He can only assume how to do this. But through some struggling, he manages to pull a piece of himself forth. It burns bright as it presses forth, pure fire and energy offered into the bones of the old Guardian.
It’s only one small thing, it won’t make up for the harm he has caused. But he wants to try to make things right. He wants to be a better deity than his predecessor ever was.]
behold, the consequences of your actions
The lake contains one (1) Callan today, who's about to quip about Luca visiting (before the hot goss has reached him, you must understand), but Luca veers toward the bones instead, leaving the shapeshifting Guardian confused.
Luca's phoenix power seems to do very little at first. The old dragon still lies inert in the sediment, long gone, it seems.
...
After a few minutes, whether Luca was on his way out or not, a fiery light sparks in Sehul's eye sockets, and the surrounding earth begins to shake as their skeletal head moves. Then, phalanges pull themselves from the soil, and Sehul's unattached bottom jaw starts to follow suit, attaching to the underside of their skull as bones rearrange themselves.
They do not have flesh. But they are sitting up, the runes carved into the underside of their skull sparking.]
no subject
Vaguely suspicious, especially after his earlier outburst, his eyes rove over the bones. He searches for black ichor. For shadows made manifest. And when he finds nothing, he clears his throat.]
Sehul?
[Can they even speak without muscle to move the jaw, without a tongue to shape words? He doesn't know. But he hopes.]
no subject
They are still trying to pry themself out of the sediment (they are quite a lot buried and missing a toe right now, that they are actively looking for because whoa man what the fuck), but their massive head swivels around to look at Luca.]
You are a new soul.
no subject
I suppose I am. [He cracks a faint smile.] But you are new to me, so that makes us even.
[And since he's a man of manners sometimes, he rights himself long enough to bow.]
Beiwe... is a friend of mine. I saw a vision of the two of you, and... I wanted to see if I could right a wrong that was done to you.
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Beiwe yet lives? Ah... I'm grateful. I feared the worst as I lay dying...
What of her brother? Of Ourania? I know of Freyr's death, but did Moder survive?
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[The breath he draws in is... reluctant. There's so much to be told here, and Luca doubts he's the best person for it. He had been so withdrawn from the rest of everyone's attempts to revitalize this world.]
She and Ourania are largely contained to their own domain. And Ourania is... ailing, from my understanding. As for Beiwe's sibling... [He shakes his head.] He rails against the fabric of this world, and toys with us all. If he was ever a friend to you, then I apologize, but that is no longer the case.
[His brow draws together. The name sticks out, one that he doesn't recognize. He can't tell if that's because of his own ignorance, or if it's something new entirely.]
Moder is well. She tends to us and this land. But... I know not the name Freyr.
no subject
I take it Freyr did not make it, then. [They hang their head.] Freyr was the name of the Sky Guardian. She was struck from the skies in the midst of battle. Moder was merely a baby when it happened... I am grateful she, too, lives.
no subject
[He swallows hard. The losses of late had been steep, hadn't they?]
Just as you now live... more or less. [A grimace forms on his lips.] The nature of my Blessing is still... new. At this level of strength, at least. I will find a way to rectify your current situation, however.
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Are you meaning the lack of scales? It does not necessarily bother me. I will miss eating food, however... I would not be pressed. I am more interested in the stability of this world than I am the ability to eat.
no subject
I can tell you about it, if you wish?
[If he goes back to town, he's going to have to acknowledge his mistakes!]
no subject
[With all their toes on their feet, Sehul shakes their wrist bones out a bit, does a big circle over the dirt they crawled out of, flattens it down like a cat... flops.
There's a clatter of bones and the earth shakes a little.
Dragons is actually cats.]
I am listening.
[They put their head on their bony paws and look Luca in the eyes. Story time!]
no subject
No Wolfie I'm not writing it all out.
But eventually he does finally trail off and give the dragon a look.]
It's... quite a bit to take in, I'm sure.