LadyRunic

Darke Magyk - Concluded

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Rhys Asher

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Location: Wizard Way

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Ernie looked at Rhys, flabbergasted. "What is it with you and pulling me into alleyways?!" Ernie exclaimed. While he had been genuinely glad to see Rhys last time, this entire routine was getting a bit old. "Ya can't keep doin' this, mate... If I were you, I'd just go talk to Miss Rincewind. She's a bit cold but I think she'd go easy on you," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Especially with that boy of hers always around... Muller or something..."

"I'd pull you into a lovely young widow's bower if one was conveniently on hand, but we work with what we have." Rhys replied tartly, as he steered Ernie along. "And 'Miss' Rincewind's apprentice just threw his little tunic on the ground after coming out of Messenger Rat's office. You don't happen to know anything about that do you?" If he had an eyebrow, which he usually had at least fake ones these days, they would rise in question at the shorter Wizard. "And Ernie, you know I don't look fondly on that woman. Nor she me, I would suspect."

Ernie shook his head a bit. "Honestly, man, I don't reckon she has much of an opinion of you... Not to be rude or anythin' but... It's like she's a big pretty cat, right? And you're just a little worm trying to swim in the Moat. Ya just don't have an impact on her life," he pointed out to his friend. He thought about what Rhys said about the apprentice, before Ernie started to gasp, his chest feeling like it was about to explode. He gripped his friend tightly, his veins bulging. His eyes turned pure black. "Bring me to the Mistress of Chaos," he commanded, but his voice sounded ancient and worn. "I MUST HAVE HER!"

Whatever Rhys had been expecting it wasn't for Ernie to start manifesting this particular being. While he had been about to deliever a blistering lecture to the man about the fact that, he, Rhys Asher was no 'little worm trying to swim in the Moat' it seemed a more damning punishment had come about. One that was certain death. For Rhys knew of no way to stop the Elder God of Chthon, the God of Dark Arts and Chaos Magyk, from taking over the Wizard's body. It would be troublesome to loose the man, but he decided to point this out to the God, respectfully of course. "It would be my pleasure, however you are killing your host. He cannot sustain you it appears. Which is rather troublesome for me." For Rhys had a good idea of who the God was looking for, or at least who he could dump the being on. "I do rather need my inside man, of sorts. There's also the problem if you can survive to reach the Mistress of Chaos." He stated taking a good step out of reach with a polite bow.

Unfortunately, Rhys gave Chthon an excellent idea. His current host was not built to last. He smiled sickly at Rhys. "You will do," he then said, letting go of Ernie. Ernie crumbled to the ground in a pile of dust, before the strange force suddenly overwhelmed Rhys and entered him. It would feel like a parasite had just come into his body. Yet while Ernie had not been strong enough, Rhys was - at least for the time being. You are mine now, Chthon's voice whispered from the back of Rhys' head. Rhys would sense that he was still in charge - at least for now. But when would that change?

The Rogue Wizard cursed soundly as he felt that horrid force overwhelm him and enter into his being. It was as if he had just swallowed a tapeworm. The thought shuddered through him as Chthon whispered that Rhys was his now. While Rhys was firmly against the idea, he did know he had the disadvantage. Something he didn't like at all. "For now. I will be of far more use to you and myself if you let me, and help me, remain alive. For that My Lord-" The Wizard pointed out with cool and icy logical dislike. A bit of sucking up didn't hurt at this point didn't hurt either. "We need more power. Something to augment my strength. Plus there's also the problem of the Sicknesse within me. Unless you can do something about that and I shall take you to your Mistress of Chaos all the faster." The Wizard pointed out as he began to spell to teleport him to the Badlands. Reasoning that if he was fully better- and if this God could manage that it would benefit them both and give Rhys more time to figure something out. Because if Rhys had to admit what he never would? He was terrified.

Chthon laughed inside of Rhys' head. Rhys' hair turned a brilliant shade of white, his pupils becoming red instead of their normal darkened green. Chthon was transforming his host's body. Rhys would no longer feel the Sickenesse - which was all the more a problem. Do you understand now, boy? Chthon taunted.

Rhys studied his reflection in the metal of his blade. "Troublesome. Though I suppose the ladies will find me exotic now." He chuckled softly at the realization. Chthon was the Sickenesse in a sense. The so called disease was a small manifestation of the Elder God. "Oh, I approve... I approve greatly." Finishing the spell to teleport to the Badlands and near the Port Wytches' Safe House. When you had an Elder God, it seemed the Witch Mother was the one to go to.

Do you need help seducing women? I've had a good many in my time. The original Scarlet Witch... Chthon was still just chuckling. When Rhys looked at his reflection, he could see the elder god like a shadow behind him. He was extraordinary lucky - he was a perfect merge with the chaos god. Rhys would then feel extreme hunger. His Magyk would work without a flaw. HUNGRY.

"If I needed help with woman, I'd be the sorry husk you destroyed. " Rhys pointed out with amusement. taking his time wandering towards Fleur's domain. He was getting a feel of sorts for this Elder God, as much as a feel he could get for one. "The issue is we both have things we desire. You require your Mistress of Chaos and life forces. I require to remain living and in control." He didn't trust this being, nor did Rhys really care for what was going on. He didn't like this constant threat. He didn't want this Elder God grasping him, but there was little choice. So he would deal with it. He would do what he could with it, and he would damn well see what Fleur knew about this. And if she didn't know anything... He'd see what this Elder God could help him do.

HUNGRY! the elder god insisted again. It was getting to be unbearable. The more Chthon demanded to be fed, the more it would dominate Rhys' thoughts. At the mention of the Mistress of Chaos, the image of a young looking brunette swarmed into Rhys' mind. He would know that the woman was the granddaughter of Odin, supposedly the product of a union between a goddess and a wizard. It would not, however, be clear if Chthon wished to absorb her and use her as a host - or if he sought companionship.

Rhys cursed soundly as he saw no one in all the Badlands. Which was reasonable. "Dissapear, Reapear, Somewhere else, Take me there, Take me to the alley" Rhys muttered. It would be best to seek out a life force before he reached Fleur, who was in no way that Mistress of Chaos. If he was able to transpot back he slipped through the alleys looking for someone suitable. Someone who he could draw away into a private corner. Spying a child, he smiled at the brat and waved with teasing fingers. "Obscure the child, Scream screen about the brat. Come to me, small one. Heed my Call." He hated what he was about to do, but what else could he do? He's get some wench pregnant, make sure he raised another to replace this one.

The little girl walked over to Rhys, looking up at him. She had one green eye and one blue eye, just like Fayard. However, unlike Fayard, her eyes were partially clouded over. She was blind and looked to be without any family. "Hello?" her small voice called out, not afraid.

Rhys paused, looking at the child. Resting a hand on her head. She had potential, a useful tool for later, if there was a later, for she would have Magyk. "Go You where I Send, Tarry not until the End, Stay you where I Tell, Mark You This and Mark it Well. Spells all on you shall end when you reach Number 13 Snake Slipway. Tell my dear that I've found the answer to our troubles, and remain there yourself. There will be warmth and a bed and food all for you." He whispered to the girl, patting her on the head and sending her on her way. Silently speaking to the God. "She will be of more use later. Either as a tool or a emergency source of life. We are in a city. There will be others we can snap up, plenty of useless pampered sheep." A cold calculation in his voice as he slipped his hood over is hair and sought out a tavern. Keeping sharp eye for anyone he could lure away.

The god growled in frustration, having been denied its meal. The little girl was gone and he needed to be fed. HUNGRY! the god repeated. Its patience was growing thin and it may very well just take control of Rhys at this rate if it was not fed. The god took control of just one of Rhys' legs, not strong enough to do more, and began to drag him out of the alley and into the street, whether Rhys cooperated or not. It was a comical sight, as if Rhys were limping.

THERE! The god spied a group outside of the Gothyk Grotto.

"Agreed." Rhys snarled in annoyance as he was dragged into the street via one leg. Striding towards the group the rogue studied them. Observing the prey. Pausing behind them he chuckled slightly. "My, my. What little children get up to now a days." He smiled at the young adults and grasped one on the shoulder. "Why don't we have some fun?" He offered with a sly smile.

The boy wearing an excessive amount of eye liner grinned at Rhys. "Yeah man, it'll cost ya two crowns," he said. Well, it was the oldest profession after all!

Rhys traced a hand along the boy's chin. "Five crowns each. For all of you, I'm hosting a bit of a party." Rhys crooned as he smiled charmingly at the group. Gesturing them to follow even as he marked their faces.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Richard Laine

Kitchen - Hallway Cells

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Richard blinked and looked down at the small child who had seemingly appeared out of no where. Albeit, he wasn't used to being on the look out for flying children when they weren't at least teenager height. Though he supposed there would be the odd child who could grow or shrink. Child, Richard mused with annoyance privately preferring the term brats. The exception being his sister and perhaps her friend Allison. Though the surprise of a small girl running into him didn't end there as the pixie sprouted fairy like wings and began hovering about him. Questioning firing fast than he could answer them.

Raising his hand slightly, Richard gently scooted her to the side as he continued down the hall and towards the doors leading outside as a far too troublesome could be heard. "My apologies for running into you, small... child." He gritted his teeth against calling her a brat. Though he supposed it wasn't fair as this was a particularly young one. Taking a breathe, he decided the humor the girl. Often when you did they went away or were content enough to be quiet and think for a time. "Richard Laine, is who I am. Though who are you and what are you doing here?" A fair trade and honestly he expected a frivilous answer that would get him no where. Pesky Pixie Brat, the man muttered in his head.

Ayita Dyrkin

Palor - First Floor Cells

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Ayita looked over her feathered shoulder as her eyes blinked slowly at Allison as her friend came into the room. Mary's words slicing into the owl-woman as their 'leader' berated her. Whirling in a blur of feathers, Ayita flashed into her human form. Her eyes snapping with something that wasn't quite human as she stared at the door Marygold had just strutted from like a prideful bitch. Sorely tempted to go after the woman and give her exactly the details of what the plant weaving fungus had said, Ayita paced. Her eyes looking about the room for 'prey', something she could tear into. Yanking the leash on the instinct that demanded she challenge the alpha bitch, amber eyes widened in horror.

"I'm a monster." Ayita whispered finally, sitting down heavily on the sofa. Her head in her hands as she shook with a mix of grief and rage. "Perhaps he was right in going North. Perhaps that where monsters belong." Honestly, Ayita wanted nothing more than to rip into Dean and Marygold's minds and give them the years she had spent surviving. She had tried to explain it to the girl, Sarah, but the girl had only seen the form and not the waves that crashed against her. Rubbing the golden ring on her finger, Ayita looked up at Allison.

"I- I was merely teasing. Playing. Is that not something you- people," Ayita corrected herself firmly. "-do? Is that so barbaric? I did not joke about death or killing but the facts of the hunt! As if they do not do the same when they hunt deer in the forest! They act as though I would actually do- That I would hunt the stupid boy!" A tear slipped from Ayita eye as she stared at the spot it left on her hand in wonder and sorrow. She had never been so frustrated with something, though she had been wounded. It was the helpless rage that she could do nothing about it, that ripped the wild woman open. That those people only saw the creature that ripped the throat out of one human and trampled others. Scrubbing at her eye desperately, Ayita sent the tail end of her thought to Allison. [color=ForestGreen]"... Can't let Brother see... He'll- No, he must not know." Her brother was protective and for even one tear of her's to be shed? Ayita didn't want him and Marygold or Dean going at it.

Darke Magyk - Concluded

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Rhys Asher

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Location: Wizard Way traveling towards Home

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There was a lot to see with so many people rushing to and fro. Now knowing the reason why, Rhys was more tolerant of the concept of patience. While it was indeed irritating, the dark green eyes did catch signs of movement from a nearby messenger rat office. His hand clenched into a fist slowly as he watched the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's Apprentice slip into the throng. Intent on abducting the boy or at least learning something of his habit, Rhys was stunned as the lad tossed the tunic he had been granted per his status on the ground and tramped off with obvious disdain for it. A curious thing that. Leading Rhys to adopt a warm smile that hid the poison beneath it.

Plucking the tunic from the ground he draped it over one arm, a bundle of clothing and nothing for anyone to really pay much attention to. If they did? What of it? He found it on the ground, a fact that was true as the sky was blue. Chuckling to himself, the Wizard noted another figure. Ernie, an old friend if Rhys were to call someone a friend. The least he could say about the other Wizard was the fact that Ernie at least had done nothing against him in his years in the Wizard's Tower under his mentor or now even though the man well knew Rhys was alive. Strolling up behind the man, Rhys looped a friendly arm over the Wizard's shoulders and guided him with the crowd and towards an alley. "Ernie." Rhys greeted amiably in a far better mood then when he had last seen the Wizard. "Mind if I have a word with you? No? How lovely." Overriding any protest Rhys gripped Ernie's shoulder tightly his head close enough to whisper to the Wizard. "I need your help, and it's nothing Darke or illegal. So move your damned feet, it's rather dire." Well, in truth it probably was in some sense but Rhys needed to find the cure and save himself- and his son. He also needed to keep his son from becoming Esmeralda's little pet.

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Skaoi Silverveil

Location: Luna's Room[/center]

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Small, shaking fingers fastened onto Cuyler's chin as Skaoi pulled the burly man's gaze to her own pale one. "My good sir. Please, as you seem to care for the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, fetch her some dry clothes. She will be safe enough under my watch." Skaoi softly said in a unyielding voice. "You mean well but you are just getting in my way." IT was perhaps hurtful and goodness knew Skaoi hated to be rude but it was what was needed to be said to get her patients taken care of. Oh, if she had her newly appointed servant! It was times like these she missed being a noble that would be listened to without question.

While the nobles and the royals had their drama Skaoi was quick to pluck what clothing Myrus and Arya could do without from them and wring them out. It did make sense that some strain of madness ran along the royal line, she supposed. What if how they were here especially! Perhaps some of that madness effected the girl who had been demoted? Skaoi did not like thinking ill of people but the girl was a bit useless and rather airheaded. There was a proper way to do thing and sitting around speaking like a friend to a royal wasn't one of them!Skaoi sighed wearily as she stared at her basket in annoyance, the contents drenched and some of the supplies ruined. Turning to the door, Skaoi poked her head out and fought back a wince as she spotted Lyra flirting with a young man. Perhaps the Queen had a reason to be harsh? "Miss, if you could? It probably would be best if you stopped woolgathering and looking for a potential husband at this moment." She advised softly as to not let those inside hear, an apologetic look in her eyes for the bold statement. But surely the girl would understand she was being indecent. "Could you go to the infirmary and bring me another basket with supplies? Herbs, and the means to make poultices? If you would please?" Skaoi floundered weakly before ducking back into the interior.

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Grimspound

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Location: Port Witch Coven House Upstairs/Malekith's Bedroom

Skills: Charisma, Persuasion, Intuition and Perception

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Grimspound rubbed his jaw slightly as he listened to the others. Burning the house down would be foolish, at least without setting up precautions first, and seeking answers elsewhere seemed the route that Ahote and Arnora were more interested in. Minerva was playing towards the violent side of things, which was something that wasn't going to help them. Ghosts who could Cause things to happen were a problematic bunch and Grimspound didn't really want trouble with spirits. They weren't his favorites, pretty or not. Giving a slight bow to Nera, he smiled at her with a cheeky grin. "Burning down this place would be a waste. Whatever you're looking for Minerva? Ash and fire, surely it would ruin it. Unless what you are looking for can't be destroyed by the flames?" He raised a brow at the smaller woman as he turned towards the door.

Raising a hand to stop whatever she would say, he chuckled slightly. "Keep your secrets if your so desperate to. Or you could share and I might help you more than I am." It wouldn't matter to him after all. There were plenty of interesting things in this town. While Nera was amusing, and a pretty face, Grimspound had other things to consider. Namely books, and tomes. Yet they were paling against whatever that thing was that Minerva was looking for. Catching up to Arnora, Grimspound grinned at her in open friendliness and offered his arm.

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Richard Laine

Kitchen - Hallway Cells

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The clink of dishes stacking nicely on the self satisfied the infamous assassin, as he wrung his hands dry on a towel. He had nothing against them remaining wet but wet scales were different than wet hands. Though he was not so free in his shifting as his sister, he did do it from time to time. Especially when he wanted to go unnoticed. Pulling out his phone to check the device, his face fell into a scowl as the blast thing went to that dreaded blue screen. A bad curse that. He hated seeing that particular shade of blue when it did happen. It meant a load of bills and time he didn't have to spend to get the damned thing fix.

Shoving it back into his pocket with the intent of waiting until their resident Stark was in a better mood to ask her to fix it. While he had set aside the suit jacket for the time he had dressed impeccably in black trousers and a devil's own red shirt, of which he was rolling the cuffs down as he decided to hunt down some other form of amusement. If he couldn't get to his music, well a book wasn't too fun now was it? Aimlessly wandering as he stretched his legs and considered what to do.

Ayita Dyrkin

Palor - First Floor Cells

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Shrugging at Marygold with an absent move, Ayita didn't see why she would not be nice to the younger mutant. She had been merely playing with after all, it wasn't wasn't like she was literally unsheathing some very real claws. A playful tussle with words, the real tussle with said claws she would save for her mater or brother. Those who were more... durable. Though her look of indifference was shattered when Dean snapped sharply and started flickering about the room. Had she ears they would have been laid back as the speedster laid into her. Whatever she had been suspecting it had not been this.

Taking a step back under the torrent of words she felt them stab deeply within her, even as her amber eyes turned from confusion to that awful blankness of someone retreating within themselves. She hadn't been even close to hurting or hunting him! If Ayita had wanted him dead or acting like she was about to kill him then why was she in this human form? She could understand she was still deadly even as a human, but it was not how she preferred to kill. Then again, the young Laine preferred not to kill at all. Turning sharply away from Dean, she leaned heavily in the window listening to the speedster bolt outside. Her back stiff as Ayita clenched her jaw tightly. Perhaps Damon was right to fly north? But what of Richard, Allison and- dare she admit it- Guin? The latter had been scooped under her brother's figurative wing and for some reason that meant her wing as well. Perhaps this was a foolish thought, but it made sense. Then again it had been Richard who raised her.

Her form cracked and groaned as she fought back the urge to shift. To fly away to some remote location and nurse this injury. Tempting as it was, Richard would wonder and she didn't want to cause a rift between him and 'The Puppy' as Richard called Dean. He was fond of the lad though it was more in the sense he found the younger mutant a source of amusement. Like a fond book. With a sigh, Ayita studied the golden ring- worn and old as it was- and gave into the change. The great horned owl remaining perched on the sill of the window however as she puffed her feathers up in agitation. Perhaps she was barbaric after all! Clacking her beak she preen with harsh strokes at her wings, pulling feathers out with a certain viciousness. It wasn't as if she had pretended to be anything other than what she was!

Blood's Jewels (Closed)

Blood's Jewels

“Terreille in Trouble”

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"I haven't eaten yet." Came the rumbled voice of the Warlord of the three Saroth brothers. Gen crossed his arms as he stood in the hall over looking Mikhail and Artemis with a furrowed brow. Bare save a pair of pants, the Eyrien warrior looked for all the world like he had just rolled out of bed which he had. "In fact, I don't think I've been introduced yet Lady. Though, I think Faeril might be interested to know her house has been invaded by a party of strangers?" His golden gaze flickered over to his brother who shrugged slightly. A unspoken agreement to stay out of that battle til their Black Widow woke up. With a potential storm brewing between Faeril and the Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince that could upset the Court that was forming, they didn't need more trouble on their hands.

Belor grinned at Mikhail as the little man turned a cold gaze on him. while he would call it a grin, his brother winced and called it a showing of too many teeth to be civil. "It would be more pleasant to hear if you didn't try to turn the rest of us to ice." Gen drawled in annoyance of the contest that seemed to brewing. Something told him there would be a lot of those in the coming days. "Trust us, Lady Ashkevron does it with far more of an effect that you could hope to match." The Green jeweled man grinned though there was a hint of a threat there. Which was reasonable to the Saroth as he had just woken up to a house full of strangers and Faeril having overworked herself if the presence of another Healer was anything to go by.

Darke Magyk - Concluded

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Rhys Asher

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Location: Wizard Way - Wizard Tower

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It was like he remembered it in those old days before he left. It was the optional term her preferred over fled. Though when you kill your mentor in a blind rage in the middle of the 'upstanding' folk, fleeing had seemed a good idea at the time. Now a days, Rhys wondered if he could have twisted that accident to garner him sympathy and perhaps a higher position. It would not have suited him though. To live and work in this area and forever hear about the ExtraOrdinary Wizard Arya and how she was so grand. It was enough to make him want to snarl and blast something apart in disgust.

Though there was a flaw with his plan. The password had been changed into the Wizard Tower from what he knew it to be and there was no one about to bully the answer from. Erin would be preferable. Though just when he did need the useless worm, said worm was no where in sight. Anger boiling inside of him and he wanted to rip the tower from the ground and let it's ruin lay in the streets. Upon examining the foundation he noted that some odd folk were slipping in and out of the tower like cockroaches. A large even was underway, perhaps their precious ExtraOrdinary Wizard about to step down or something. Give him a chance to strangle her death with his own hands. Though as he looked closely his expression soured. A wedding. Their precious Arya was getting married? All the better time to strike. If he got the cure for himself and his heir? All the better.

Even if he didn't kill Arya he would be able to instill into his heir if the boy lived that hatred. Perhaps the boy would kill the ExtraOrdinary Wizards and leave him with clean hands? It was plausible. Striding back the way he came the man noticed a frantic looking fool come bursting from one of the shops- Botts' Robes for All Occasions to be precise. As the man rushed off to one engagement or other, the rogue noticed a letter fall to the ground. Scooping it up out of morbid curiosity, a wicked smile crossed the man's lips. A wedding between Bruce Banner and Myth the Muse? The doors would be open to the public at five, and the wedding was to take place at sunset. He would be able to slip in easily. Til then... He turned on his heel back to his home to get some better clothes and overlook the plans he had of the Wizard's Tower for the thousandth time.

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Skaoi Silverveil

Location: Luna's Room[/center]

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Skaoi winced when the Queen struck Lyra. It was not overly common to slap a servant in such a fashion, but the Queen was the Queen. What had the girl thought to gain by speaking so out of turn? Had this been the Easter Snow Plains the fate would be harsher for a mere servant. Despite whatever position she had before Lyra had been demoted, she was not doing herself any favors questioning the ruler? They- rulers- did not have friends. They had subjects and that cold wall about them was best to be respected. Best not to draw attention. Though her thoughts were drawn back to her charge, especially when the water in the bowl began to move.

Looking over her should Skaoi gasped in shock as Arya was laying on the ground. Cursing herself for not noticing, the physik gave a small squeal of protest when the water blasted them all. Shivering like a leaf in the middle of windstorm, Skaoi squeezed the water from her clothes and hair in short order and rushed to Arya's side ignoring how indecent she looked. Quickly she worked snapping to the Northman, "Quickly! Get her out of these wet clothes and the boy as well! The wet will do them no good! Someone fetch dry and warm bedding." Setting to work she hurried about the room with the speedy and practiced frantic nature of one trained well in her craft. "Merely stress for My Lady... His Highness is supressing his powers and doing no good for himself in that regard." She muttered softly more to herself than the rest. Trying to use her powers and a mixture of herbs to help the boy with no results.

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Grimspound

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Location: Port Witch Coven House Upstairs/Malekith's Bedroom

Skills: Charisma, Persuasion

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Grimspound smiled as the ghost of Nera Hawthorn took the book. It was by far not his favorite and a paltry gift but sometimes the token was enough, he mused as the book settled beneath the woman. Arnora and Ahote were both speaking as though the woman was being a sneaky little thing, and of course she wouldn't! Right? Puzzling over it for a second he mentally winced at the way his grandmother would twist his ear for falling for a pretty face. There was something subtly off and he of all people should have caught it! Promising to give himself a verbal lashing later- something that often took the tone of his dear granny- his emerald eyes shone with even more interest.

While he didn't think Minerva was right to use force to get her way, he had no quarrel about playing his hand to the woman's game. So he would play along for now. "The dear lady has lived in enough tragedy and you now accuse her?" Though they were well placed and true accusations. "Misstress Nera, what can you tell me about this Amarantha? I have not heard of such a tyrant while I travelled." Grimspound questioned carefully, not implying that she was innocent nor that she was not innocent. He didn't like accusing beautiful women on principal, though he did sense something sneaky that he approved of within this Nera. If only she was not a ghost!

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Richard Laine

Kitchent Cells

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Richard was partly up the stairs, seeing no reason to rush when his phone buzzed. Continuing into the kitchen he began to clean up the slight mess he had made with one hand while the other flicked the message open to a artful phrasing with apple slices and peanut butter. "Children... Never know not to play with their food." Then again, who was he to talk? He liked to play with some types of food. Those tasty morsels who usually squealed back. Pausing against the sink with the remnants of his own meal, the Adder noted that he really ought to get out of the manor and stay a night at a lady friend's house.

Flicking his fingers over the screen, he chuckled to himself at the message forming. "While I am honored by the offer. You're not my type Guin." He half expected Pietro to slug him or Tony to use him as target practice for it, but Richard shrugged it off. Sometimes the best way to deal with a snarly Guin was to agitate her. Give a woman a target and they usually were more than happy to let steam off on it. "And don't tell me you don't like apple slices either? Is it one of those female things that my extensive education forgot to inform me of?" Sliding the phone into his back pocket Richard twisted about to scrub at the dishes, wondering if he'd get a text back or be dodging a speedster or/and a angry brat.

Ayita Dyrkin

Palor - First Floor Cells

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Tilting her dark head, the woman considered the image of a lion running after a gazelle. Her hand uncurling as if she had claws instead of fingers. Mentally she was chuckling with slight amusement at Dean's trembling tone. It was wrong of her of course, but the poor boy was fun to bat at. Like a cat with a very terrified bunny. Mind you, the cat had no interest in this rabbit. He just made funny noises. "They make it sound so novel worthy, don't they?" She looked over at Dean with a smirk her brother wore when someone walked across his line of 'manners appropriate'. "Did you know in actuality a lion would be on that gazelle in a handful of seconds? It's not so slow and picked apart. It's practiced motions, like playing soccer. Except for the ball is usually something's head." The shifter shrugged, pacing towards Dean with a sway to her entire damn body that was far too much like the predators on screen.

Smiling in what could most certainly not be called an 'innocent grin', Ayita draped an arm over Dean's shoulder. Her nails tapping a little rhythm as she dragged them up the boy's arm and to his shoulder. "You see the head had the eyes. Their quite tasty, though the tongue also is full of nutrients." She whispered lowly near Dean's ear as she moved about to partially circle him. Her tawny eyes dropping lower as she stated with her soft voice. "But I must say... The best part is usually the rear or the liver." Pausing the the window she flicked her hand absently at the most likely terrified mutant. "But, yes, you can change the channel. I find this rather pathetic in it's description." Perhaps she had gone a bit overboard, Ayita mused. "What is this 'Big Bang Theory'? I assume it is scientific?"

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

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Richard Laine

Electronics Lab - First Sub-basement Cells

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Richard strode down the steps of the stairs, expertly balancing a plate of apple slices and peanut butter. Perhaps it wasn't really a meal, but a snack could be accepted where a meal would not. Having promised Tony he'd keep an eye on the Stark's resident brat, he was fulfilling it the Adder lied to himself. Though in truth, Richard was worried Guin was over doing things. Not that he would admit it, but he cared for the girl almost as much as Ayita. A thought that made his lips twitch in amusement as he remembered Ayita's outrage when she had admitted her romance with Damon only to have him reveal that he really didn't care as he found Damon worthy of his young sister.

All in all, Richard was getting very good at outrunning women and pissing them off in general. Rapping his knuckles loudly on the door to the electronic's lab, he set the plate on the floor outside. A little note attached reading 'Mind eating these so they don't go to waste? Ayita hates my cooking, and this isn't even cooking!'. It wasn't exactly a lie, Ayita disliked Richard's cooking due to the man's prevalent use of spice. It was more a circle about the truth. Ayita didn't like fruit that was tampered with generally, and skinning and slicing an apple was considered 'tampering'. Turning about he moved to the stairs intent on finding a good book or perhaps dragging some hapless youngster into mischief.

Ayita Dyrkin

Palor - First Floor Cells

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Boots clacked through the palor room as Ayita strode to the nearest window. Casting the window open, she sighed and breathed in the crisp fall air. Fall was by far her favorite season now that she was living amongst humans, and had a mate preparing a suitable den- home- in the North. She hadn't changed all that much over the months, except by being more often seen in her human form. The shifter still hunted from time to time, and used those kills. To let them go to waste was a sin in the eyes of the Alaskan native. If you killed something you used it. The only exception was humans. Bits of feather and beads made of wood, bone and various stones were woven into the dark locks. Underlining the fact she was different from most.

Leaning against the window frame, Ayita bit into the apple slice she had snagged from the kitchen. While she preferred a whole apple, Richard had chased her off with the threat of going North himself. Her gaze looking over Dean with a flicker of irritation and annoyance. Not to mention there was a warning in that look, that if he made Allison cry Ayita would be the one he answered to. The only way that wouldn't happen would be if Allison requested it otherwise. There was Marygold as well, someone Ayita was not to sure of any more. Though it had been a few months, and Damon lived.

She had gone North after telling Richard of the engagement, making sure Damon was settled right and not about to cause a mass migration of some beast or other. It had been a good time. Not overly long, but decently fruitful. Rubbing the gold band on her finger with her thumb she considered flying off into the night. Hunting some small rodent as a owl or cat. Yet it didn't appeal right now to what she truly desired. That crash of waves that had echoed in her blood, the echoing cries of the pod of orca that had come near the shore during her visit. Ayita had wanted nothing more than to dive into the waves and join them. Damon's presence had held her from that form, though she had often gone to the shore to test and resist the call of the waves.

Rolling her shoulder she scooped the remote from where it had been wedged into a cushion of nearby chair. Flicking a few buttons Ayita flipped on the natural geographic channel, before tossing it gently, lest she break something, at Dean. Though if it broke his head she doubted that would damage anything, Ayita though cynically. Casting her amber eyes over Marygold, she considered the woman Richard dubbed as Poison Ivy. Though when he said it, he was far from joking. Leaning back she considered Dean's situation and if the 'puppy' would have enough spine to change the channel as she studied the creatures with a skeptical eye.

Blood's Jewels (Closed)

Blood's Jewels

“Terreille in Trouble”

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In the kitchen Denar considered the odd looking man. He was one of the long lived races with those gold eyes, meaning that his actual age would be in question. If anything, Denar would guess him to be young, not quite in his prime yet but a fighter none the less. As a protected and escort of a Healer he would be. Though despite the fact he was supposed to be on guard duty the Eyrien warrior relaxed slightly as Vaclav ate. Though he was dubious of pancakes for breakfast, preferring sausage or any real meat in general. Steak would be wonderful, yet he was nor brave enough to step into the pantry and risk Gen's wrath if, and when, he was found out. Swirling the coffee a bit as the Warlord questioned about the old woman, who was currently sitting in the palor trying to knit under Denar's gaze when he wasn't paying close attention to the Warlord, Denar hesitated slightly before answering.

"The simple terms is the fact that Mother needs a Healer around often. She was not as old as you would think, but the loss of her two friends- relatives of the Healer here- was hard on her and our father was harder when they were together." He rustled his wings slightly in agitation of the mention of the bastard. "It aged her and not for the better. So, Faeril did what she could but there are limits." The man shrugged not looking like he was going to go into more detail than that. It wasn't his secret to share after all and he wasn't sure about trusting these strangers that much yet.

Belar tucked his wings tightly to allow Artemis to pass. While he didn't like it, he knew better than to interfere with Healers. It was the quickest way to find yourself missing pieces, or that was what Faeril had always threatened. Relieved that Gen at least was sleeping in and getting some much needed rest, he leaned agianst the stone of the door frame. The eyrie itself resembled a series of caverns that had been shaped to rooms. Stepping into the room to allow the Queen and other Healer by he narrowed his eyes at the stranger his friend had been helping. While he knew it was common for Faeril to over do it, he couldn't help the protective instincts of the Warlord Prince that he was. "Lady Fatima." Belar corrected with a firmness to his voice when Mikhail addressed the Queen. He wasn't really one to care, but the last thing they needed when Faeril woke up was a explosion of the Black Widow giving someone the dressing down. Though considering the Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince... That might just happen anyways. Somewhere in the eyrie a clock striked ten in the morn.

Darke Magyk - Concluded

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Rhys Asher

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Location: Home

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He had to smile to himself at Esmeralda's actions. While they could not, for the life of them, stand each other. Apparently it did not apply to the life of their son. A blessing in the long run for the boy he supposed. Though this by no means meant he was going to trust the witch. Trust was something he didn't give anyone, not even Fayard. It was just a weakness he could not and would not afford.

The crowds were of little concern to Rhys. He was used to them and to using them. If anything, a constant stream of people heading in one direction would mask his presence. Stopping by one of the many shops that catered the hungry throng, he was able to place an order for a sandwich and receive in record time due to the smiling charm he graced the serving girl with. That apologetic smile of someone who was in a rush, and didn't want to trouble the staff but needed to move. It also helped he tipped her well for the aid as he moved off.

Steadily he worked the sandwich down to crumbs as he studied the crowd and moved like a man with an easy air and purpose. As if he belonged, which he did. Rhys was a Wizard after all. Why would he be turned away? The man didn't waver from his target. The Questing Pot. The place where he could begin the power play to save his son and more importantly take the Wizard's Tower for his own.

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Skaoi Silverveil

Location: Luna's Room[/center]

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The fever was hardly worrying as of yet, but Skaoi quickly dampened a small cloth and placed it over Prince Myrus's forehead as he laid upon Princess Luna's bed. It was a positively grand room, though Skaoi had seen plenty like it in her time. Sitting demurely in a chair near-by as to be of use if she was needed, she tucked her hands in her apron. It was easy to shrug the ghosts of those who had passed on off. The mass entourage of royals that seemed to be clustered in this room? Not so much.

Keeping her head down and her ears open she stood and began pulling small pouches from the basket upon her arm. There was soothing tea in it perfect for calming down any distraught individual. Which it seemed that her new assistant would need. Skaoi could have told the woman that questioning a Royal was a foolish action at the best of times. Doing in public against a direct order and so blatantly? The pale woman could only wince at the thought of what would await her for such a disregard of propriety. Eastern Snow Plains folk were proper. The nobles even more so.

The girl with the niffler had intrigued the physik enough she had graced the small child with a smaller smile. For all the creature was troublesome, it was slightly adorable. Though as Luna mentioned the drowning a small piece of memory clicked for Skaoi. She remembered hearing the tale of an Old Castle Queen attempting to drown her child. Possessive of her throne and wishing no one to have it after her death. Which sounded utterly foolish. A kingdom needed a ruler to be functional. However, the quiet woman kept her tongue still. Not voicing these facts as it was not her conversation. This was Royal Matters and not for the likes of her to intervene. Standing she moved to the nearby baths to fetch hot water.

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Grimspound

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Location: Port Witch Coven House Upstairs/Malekith's Bedroom

Skills: Perception, Intuition, Sense Magyk, Charisma, Persuasion

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Grimspound smiled at the ghostly woman. She had be lovely in life and she was still lovely in death, the man admitted without shame. Though he did feel a twinge of pity for Nera. To be all alone was a hard thing, even for he. He had grown up in a village where people were tight knit and everyone knew everyone. While he enjoyed the road as a solitary traveler from time to time, it did get lonesome. Pulling the book he had been reading from his jacket and gave Minerva a stern and disapproving look. "Now that is uncalled for and unkind, my dear." He winked at Nera with his ever charming grin and friendly demeanor. While he was aware there was most likely- enough of a chance that he'd bet his grandmother's favorite cane upon it- danger about, he was all for being friendly til the time came to strip away civility.

What worried him was how badly the woman wanted the stone, and how apparent that was. Desperation often was such a troublesome thing. He himself made it a point to not be put in such a situation. Rather he would put others in that situation and play them along like the Pied Piper in the tales his mother told him when he had been far younger. Resolving to keep a sharp eye on his little companion, he offered the book to the ghostly form of Nera. "A common title and by far not the best, but I figure the rest of this material must be getting dull. I, myself, cannot bear to see a fellow reader suffer so." He bowed slightly to the spirit. Such a sad and lonely woman. In such a house and very likely having caused her own death? Who could blame her! Though he got the feeling she was conflicted on something. He smile was firm as he resolved to make the woman quiet unconflicted. "But my dear friend is quiet correct. Could you please tell us a bit more about yourself and this place?" Slashing a look to Minerva he quietly prepared to stop her if his warning was not heeded.