Seraphimichael​:

Awash with the sense of his own weariness, Pythia struck and drew the very air from his lungs, the heat of hellfire rippling against his insides; it’s a flicker of irritation, but one she doesn’t cling to and quickly it dissipates. “You grow weary of questions, and yet you have barely lived through a single life. Spare me the dramatics, would you?” There’s something buried within the tone of her voice that coveys everything from the inferno; a depth of gracelessness that offers him only one chance to redirect his patience. “No, sparky. I’m not talking out of my ass. Perhaps you’ve not truly thought this through. Does tearing the Eye down not draw all of you directly into their conniving arms, Serkan? You cannot hope to pick them off one by one, there are too many. Destruction of such a far-stretching and interwoven institution does not come easy, and it certainly doesn’t come from one who was little more than a lab rat. All he offers you is anger.” Of which, the wolves already had far too much of. “I’m aware of what they do. I also know that changelings are not exactly a delicacy that is easy to come by, and charging your way into the otherworld is only asking for trouble.” She should know - afterall, the creatures the drow held control over and the asphodel themselves sought to fortify the other realm in ways none would ever see coming. “But, should you require more than a mere handful...” Hues rolled into the back of her skull and a blooming laugh flit from her lips like butterfly wings - soft and gentle, “Were I to make an enemy of you, you’d already be dead so, choke that bark of yours right back down and work with me.”

fxllenpythia·:

“I suppose we’ll see how true that really is, won’t we?” The air of disbelief that caught the edge of each word as purposeful as ever, hues of near obsidian eyeing the wolf as if she wasn’t entirely certain that he wouldn’t bend the knee so readily. “Perhaps you’ll yet surprise me.” Though, she wouldn’t hold a proverbial breath. Useful, he claimed, and she had to wonder exactly where he found such use in the lead of a man none of them could truly know. Torture and callous treatment could change the very molecules of a man; of a creature among them. “My point is, that nothing happens in Rome that isn’t premeditated. Do you believe that your new alpha escaping the clutches of the eye just in time for your little wolf-fest is little more than coincidence?” She didn’t expect such a thought to sink beyond surface level, in truth - she wanted to find out exactly where the former alpha stood. Their alliance with the fey a rather tricky thing to navigate. “You pander to all that must be hard won, instead of seeking the path of least resistance. The hearts of changelings, no?”

A sigh left his mouth at the words leaving her mouth. He was tired of it. There was always someone questioning his choices, always someone telling him he could have done better or that he could still be alpha if he did just one thing differently. Serkan was one for living in the past, but this was one time he just wanted to move past it. He wanted to get rid of the questions. The Pythia was someone he barely even knew and yet here she was questioning his choices. What the fuck was in the air in Rome? He took a second, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he listened to her. “So you think Alek is under the thumb of the Eye? The guy that made it known he wants to tear them down? That Alek? I see you’re talking out of your fucking ass now.” Another sigh. “Changeling hearts make it easier for us to shift. I’m failing to see how that would be a problem.” He shook his head. “Look, burn down Rome for all I care. Just leave us lycans alone. We’ve got no real problem with you unless you make an enemy of us.”

Reservoir Dogs (1992) ⤷ dir. Quentin Tarantino

bensu soral in tuzak

Tuzak (3) | 2022

"It's... interesting," Pythia responds, uncertainty latching onto every nerve ending that impresses upon her that this is the only place she wishes to be in that moment. Ganymede's offer felt like something of a sideswipe, and despite her unlevel footing at the time, she'd been so quick to accept. "Free appetizers? So you're taking them for fools too," Her smile, though usually sharpened at every edge, curls almost gently now, as if appraising someone she didn't wish to skin alive. "Not to worry, it's not the first time and I'm sure it certainly won't be the last." An offhanded promise, that while the asphodel being splintered did undoubtedly dampen some of her plans, it didn't derail them entirely. "But I'm well, and you? I'm sure by now, you've heard about Ulthar and Elysia."

@fxllenpythia location: Applebys notes: dad's home

"I'm so glad we get to do this, I love it here." The lighting, the ambiance, the people. Everyone here was so nice, but then again, everyone here was so nice. "They always give me free appetisers when I ask for them, so you can order whatever you want, it's on me." Ganymede thought momentarily to the way Ulthar had gorged himself on Pythia's siblings, on his kids and felt his chest go tight before his voice went up an octave. "So how have you been? I'm sorry your club got broken up, that must have been hard for you."

LANFEAR | The Wheel of Time - 2.06

“Undoubtedly.” Pythia quips with ripe confidence, “I couldn’t very will bring all this about and not ensure you all received and invite to the main event now, could I?” It was inevitable. As always. Wherever Leviathan went, whatever cracks in the surface of the world she and her following created, they would find her. One way or another. Destruction would remain the only thing that ever brought the seraphim together - for war, nonetheless. An enticing display with an uncertain end. “What are you to do, Uriel? I’ve already been cast to the depths of hell and crawled my way out. Do you truly believe I could not do so again?” As long as the book remained, Levithan would linger in the very folds of the world, forever whispering of the gifts she could offer - the power that would forever tether her to this realm. 

“I daresay by now, you’d have already found a way to be rid of me and yet...” Here she stood. Centuries had passed while she pieced together each and every facet of all that would tether her to her immortal state; void of the dangers that might linger the higher she rose to power. “And yet, you hold onto empty threats in the hope you’ll find a way to stop me. How does it feel? To know you’ve fought all this time, and it will amount to nothing at all.”

fxllenpythia​:

The ruins of the once great house lay before her, a kingdom conquered. One menial, hapless kingdom that would simply pave the way for the next. The familiarity that fluttered through her veins told Pythia quickly that she wasn’t alone - that such solitude was once again interrupted by one of her own. Brother. Such was to be expected now that hiding within the centuries no longer suited. Coming into such power with every soul offered to the Necronomicon only one more reason added to the hundreds of thousands that lacquered her intentions in ichor and poison. Onyx hues flicker over her shoulder, clocking the ancient horse-lord seraphim with a look that invoked invite, rather than indifference. Come; look. At the foolishness of their hope - their blind faith. “Were you lot looking in the right places, you’d have found me long ago.” Whether it be this face, or any of those previous. Pythia always existed, just out of reach and never too far away. “You’re all making this far too easy for me, it’s disappointing.”

☨

If Uriel had the other three with him in the moment, perhaps even Michael, it would be easy enough to annihilate their sister. Ayi’ig and Tiamat were not here. Perhaps the entirety of Rome would be decimated in the process, but such would be the cost of eliminating a worldwide threat. She could never take them all on face-to-face. Even with the power of the Book, they were 4 Blessed Seraphim meant to kill the Gods and their kin; Leviathan was but one fallen Seraphim and greater demon, with a few extra accessories. Yet this was precisely why Uriel knew this would be the only way he’d find her. They were both alone.

And so he could do nothing but look her in the eyes, letting every hint of his hatred show. This was beyond betrayal now; she was not like any of the other Fallen. A greater demon, an abomination meant to destroy all that made this world what it was. Perhaps the best he could get out of this was to bait her; conquest was nothing if not cunning. “You know very well what our presense means here, Leviathan. You’re aware that what you’re doing is equivalent to war with the Gods… Do you truly believe yourself invincible with some little book?” 

@sacrilcgiovs​ Location: Narcissus House. can she go there? today she can idk

Shadow carried her in the same way a mother carried a child, with certain ease that deduced that form and function were entwined, connected in ways that so many others could never be. Darkness and death became her, and while she was certain he was expecting her, she made no effort to conceal herself from him now. She was everywhere, and nowhere. A voice in his head that did little more than linger. A quiet hum that more often than not, unsettled even the most hardy of her followers before too long. “Do you want to play a game, Kaan Narcissus?” It echoed, bounced off of the recesses of his mind, the tail of a serpent drawing it ever deeper into the depths he carried. Of all the things she’d given him, of all the years he’d wandered, thrived from all she’d promised, and yet - his betrayal was no surprise.  Form took hold and boots clicked loudly against hollowed stone of the house of Narcissus as she caught him within her crossfire with near perfect aim. Fingertips curling tightly around his jaw, “Did you hope I would overlook your little.. blight? Was the immunity the senate granted you all that you could ever hope for?” She smiled, and within it, she holds every twisted, sickening truth of the world, the devil in the details. “Was killing a God not enough for you?”

@bleedingwings​ location: the embassy

The shifting atmosphere within the building as she entered told her that there were enough people within that noticed something different. Whether they were attune enough to process the thought or simply felt the quiet tickle in the back of their throat as they cast hues across the crowd. It mattered little. She was only here for one. Gone were Pythia’s reasons for remaining undetected; passing beneath the inbuilt radar that their brethren were both blessed and cursed with. The coven of Asphodel had announced themselves - brilliantly. And now, Pythia needed to seek out those that would serve in the restructure of Rome and the mortal realm.  The glass poured out before the blonde vessel Sariel had chosen, the brunette slips by, plucking it from the bar top and draining it dry. “A little heavy on the vermouth,” she feels every ounce of fallen that emanates between them. A stark difference to the sickening glow carried by those blessed; the fluorescents of this world only plucked the same strings of an ache within her skull as their prophetic siblings did. “You’re not nearly difficult enough to find anymore, Riel.”