Lanfear Wheel Of Time S2 Ep4 "Daughter Of The Night. She Walks Again."

open to: asphodel coven members @senatusstarters​ location: asphodel house

“We won’t be able to hide from them for much longer.” Nor, in her mind, did she believe they should. Given she’d announced their location, invited them to their front door, that still didn’t give rise to the identities of her accomplices. A fickle detail. Alas, the brevity of human life itself undoubtedly increased their need for self preservation, their devotion one of the many threads that kept her here. The moonlight that shone brightly upon the terrace warmed her like sunlight; the depth of night itself enough to bring a near maniacal laugh to her lips. “They’ll try to infiltrate, pick us apart one by one,” a tactful approach that would only parallel all previous attempts to destroy the Asphodel for good; if only they were so attune to the Methodist act of devotion and the level of depravity the coven itself represented.  Still giddy with the meager city wide retribution that had come to pass some months prior, Pythia balanced precarious upon the tiptoes of her latest vessel, turning the page of the Necronomicon as the blood sacrifice of their newest took hold. The blessed wouldn’t be far behind. “They’ve gone far too quite far too quickly, don’t you think?” Enough to whet her appetite just barely.

Perfect. He was - rage and all. She moves toward him, crouching to run fine grains of sand through her fingertips and she truly wonders how he would fare with the horrors done to him without the chaos that consumed him now. “You won’t be caged much longer,” in this cell or in his mind, of that she knew almost completely. “I’ll find you, once you’re free.” Her hand brushes his as she rises once more. Her powers offered the capability of returning him to his bloodline, however, while he remained a prisoner of the Senate, there was little she could do without drawing another into the fold. With time, he’d see the streets of Rome again. “But if you need me, just call.” The corner of her lip twitches into something of a smirk and she casts a wink down at the vampire. The illustrious figure in his mind dissipating just as surely as she’d appeared.

fxllenpythia​:

“I’ve seen far worse than your mind,” she states, the edge of humor lingering upon the precipice of her tongue as the corner of her mouth twitches to something that might have otherwise grown to a smile. Nothing about Dominic - in this life or the last was enough to make her shirk away and nor would anything to come. Pythia had seen - felt - committed atrocities far worse, to which there was no true end in sight. Instead, where others saw rot and poisoned beings, worthy of nothing more than to be cast to the depths of sanctimonious punishment, she knew resilience and loyalty beyond all else. The light wasn’t the only place that could curl hope around entwined fingers and draw them closer to the sun.  

Lips pursed as she dug her toes into the warm sand, pivoting in place as he rose to his feet. To some, Selene Carvalho was a fidgeter, never quite capable of remaining still for too long but the serpent that lay beneath simply knew no rest. “We all do when we’re kept from being what we’re destined to become.” And his chains kept him from so much, “What they wish to do won’t fix you. They want compliance and little more. What you’ve become spits in the face of their docile little community they wish to return to and the Eye knows as much; hence why they did what they did.” Haplessly, her tongue slips out across her lip as she narrows hues in reflection of his own, “I know what they’re out to do. I say let them try.” There was little Pythia wouldn’t face; she’d certainly never backed down from a challenge. “What about you, Dominic? If you were to be.. fixed, as you say. What then? What becomes of your anger and rage for the eye? For the senate? For all they’ve done to you?”

-

That had to be true, didn’t it? His mind was a cavern of broken and shattered walls, and Pythia seemingly navigated it easily. Selene, as she’d told him once. Perhaps the name of the body they chose, but this version was nice. He was always trapped, that’s what they always wanted. When he’d been a pirate, free on the open ocean, no one could hold him down. His soul was gone, but he was a free spirit. If he could’ve turned into a bird and taken flight, he would’ve done that as well. Perhaps Pythia had understood that, too. What would happen to his rage? He liked to think it would all disappear, that his anger would be softened, his bloodline and empathy restored. That cambion had unlocked as much, but Dom was simply a pawn for the Eye at that time.

“The rage stays,” he whispered, his fingers curling into the sand, unbridled fury only hidden by the way he gripped the image in his mind. “They pay. I want them to die.” The Eye had done this to him for decades. Tortured him for so many years, starved him, turned him into the Leech that Rome hated. And he’d been so good at it. He loathed the idea, and now he would make them all die. “And the Senate – I don’t give a fuck about them. I hate everything this city is.”

It was a strange thing, to be so connected to so many. To hear so many thoughts and feel the tremor of even their deepest, darkest emotions. However deeply buried they might have been, she felt them, a distant tremor in the base of her skull that she could so easily diminish. To reach out and pull at a single string and watch the entwinement of all who belonged to her and the book unravel within the palm of her hand. Too often, it left her giddy. “Tepiltzin, I was wondering when you’d find your way back to me.” They always did - it wasn’t often that one could experience all that she could offer and find such an infinite way to sever themselves. Greed was a rife poison that lingered in even the most well-rounded of creatures. Without second thought, she moves; each step neither too prominent nor inaudible as she finds herself within reach, fingertips shifting the flesh of his upper lip until she can press the pad of her thumb into the fang that elongates under the will of her own thought, “I’m not sure I like you better this way, but I suppose we shall see, won’t we?” Her vessel bleeds, a bead of crimson growing until it spills onto his lip. Even as one of the fallen, the power she carries stains that of the being she possesses, offering him but a menial taste of what he’d once had. “Is that what this is about? You want to join the band of God-killers?”

          a gift for @fxllenpythia​,

note: kisskiss, love a beca

              The Necronomicon and, tethered by that, the Pythia had once consumed his druidic life. When Seth had come forth a vampire, progeny of Mars, life was so drastically transformed that he thought little of his former proclivities, relished in wreaking newfound havoc with new abilities, lost sight of his former pursuit of necromancy. What worth was it to a vampire? Seth had never once aligned himself with anything or anyone, every ambition or desire claimed was for his own selfish gain, but the Asphodel had killed the First; a God. That was worth it’s weight in gold, it was something he could see his own former smarts within necromancy, his power now as a vampire, embellished by. “Remember me?” He’s emptily teasing, the Pythia had so many under their command, the Criminal couldn’t imagine they’d know each and every one, still there was flattery in recognition and Seth pitifully held out silent hope. He’s casual, like some louche predator despite the fact the Pythia is far more influential and menacing, Seth leans on the wall behind him, grinning as though they’re old friends, “Whatever God is next on the list, I’m interested.”

Camila Queiroz.

“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?”

fxllenpythia​:

“Don’t you?” A meandered response that truly held no weight - and yet, one in which she intended to make the former alpha consider. A leader didn’t fall without losing out on a future they’d envisioned. Change was as much a poison as it was the gift of freedom, it simply depended on which vein it fled to first. “Is this what you imagined the future of the Arno pack would be? Barking at the heels of the eye’s bitch boy?” Truly - she hadn’t yet discovered what methods had been used on the Lupo’s newly crowned alpha, but she had no doubt that they’d certainly made some effort to wield him to their own benefit. Whatever seeds of which she could plant; she would. “And an alliance with the fey?” Her tongue clicked against her teeth sharply as she turned a haphazard glance in his direction, “It’s certainly… questionable.”

Don’t you? Serkan made no reaction to the question. Whatever plans he had were tossed out the window the moment he had been defeated. If he wanted to do anything now, it would have to be planned very precisely. He was loyal to his pack and always would be regardless of leadership. The Wolf had hardly ever been one, only taking up the mantle because of circumstance. If Ermes had ever defeated him, he would have given up the spot, but he doubted the same respect would have been given as it was to Alek. Which was why he was quick to respond. “I don’t bark at the heels of anyone.” He would follow the new Alpha, but he would not blindly follow anyone. Every decision he made was going to be thought out from now on. “I only align myself with people that are useful. For now, they are useful.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug to cement his point, hands falling into his pockets. “Are you going to just circle around your point?”

For all that might have otherwise gone wrong, the darkness of momentary defeat had drawn Leviathan into the shadows. A place that didn't encompass the same disappointment for her that it did for so many. It was, instead, the same constant that the greater demon personified in the eons since tumbling from grace. The same place that those devoted would always find her. In every abyss conjured within themselves seeking something just a little darker - a little more powerful than the last. "Sentimentality doesn't become you, Tepiltzin." The arch of fondness tepid in the corner of her mouth is difficult to miss, there are few among the ranks of the Asphodel - scattered or no, that exist as far more than fodder. The hit she'd taken in lieu of Lilith's plan remained, and likely would for some time. Inevitable. Tiamat's destruction, while somewhat a surprise, had not been unanticipated. How could it, when the darkest beings in existence were brought together? "Your tenacity doesn't go unnoticed, however. A trait I've clearly overlooked in some of the others."

a starter for @fxllenpythia, where: gurl wherever pythia can be idk

The Criminal had survived countless years in his own solitary selfishness, he'd never needed a coven nor a pack of vampires; the once vampire had abandoned his own progeny countless of times and the Asphodel falling apart was a meaningless factor to him. The destruction of the book, however, Python's departure; that was everything to the liche who held onto so little. Such things were the few personal things the liche revolved upon and he'd not let them fade away into this new world that seemed so hellbent on destroying their path of greatness. "I was beginning to become a touch worried," everything he'd ever conquered in life had been under the direction of the greater demon and there was mild relief to find she did not simply fade away into defeat. They'd been destroyed before, a coven reduced to a slim margin of members, but they'd rebuilt from that, and they'd so do again, eventually.

camila queiroz via instagram

"Get me Augustus' body." It's said without much thought, but neither do her plans grow too bold just yet. With her numbers dwindled - even with the souls of those beyond Rome, Pythia wouldn't strike again without having everything in check - not for the likes of being blinded once more. "Dead or alive." Undoubtedly, the archfiend held some sentimentality towards the former necromancer, but waste not want not. The ties he held were worth splintering in the same ways the Asphodel had been, "And find out where Lucrecia is hiding, I'm not nearly done with her." By choice, or otherwise; Leviathan was the very embodiment of violence; and her wrath would befall all of those who no longer served her purpose. "Kill whoever you have to."

Bastien's birth had only been for the power that his parents could garner, to create a coven where one had not been. He had been taught nothing aside from what he could do for his parents. That is, until Pythia had begun to whisper in his ear. Of the power that he could harness for himself, of the magic that lay dormant within him. It was the greater demon that had guided him to the forest, to the animals within and the visions that he could pull from the hands of the Graeae. And it was since then that his loyalty had been cemented, given over freely and without fault. Even when he had been imprisoned, when he'd been left with nothing but his visions. Even when others had fallen, had felt fear and fled from the ranks of the Asphodel. And even now, as his mind fractured, as a part of it weighed so heavily upon a certain elf, Bastien had remained with Pythia. "Ask of me anything that you wish, it will be yours freely," he affirmed, cementing his loyalty that much further to their cause. To the power that would be Pythia's, and subsequently, his own once a new book had been crafted. Once they had finalized what they had long since been working towards.

augustcavaliere​:

“No, no we won’t.” The senate would establish order in the city once more, their enemies would align, and then they would come for the coven. The Asphodel had invited them here and whether the senate knew it or not, they’d play right into their hands. “But, who’s hiding?” August asked rhetorically as he fixed his gaze upon the Pythia with equal parts awe and amazement, “I leave tomorrow to perform my final rite, effective immortality, my final pledge to the necronomicon.” The cost was substantial, so many lives would go noticed at a time like this, August had no choice but to perform it elsewhere away from the prying eyes of the senate and the marshals who would stand to intervene.

August had stood proudly at the Pythia’s side along with the Egotist and Lucretia when the Asphodel had proclaimed themselves responsible for the massacre at Halloween and devotedly sided with the architect who’d bring about the destruction of the status quo. Good. The witch had come to Rome to seek vengeance for his disappeared father, but in Erik’s absence he found only dead whispers and broken promises - Pythia had found him as a broken ruined thing and together they’d reunited the shattered necronomicon alongside the others.

There was no act that the witch would not throw himself into on the Pythia’s behalf, where there were some who may have doubted their supremacy August had always known the power behind the figure. From childhood’s hour Python had guided his hand, his blade, his magic, when he was cornered it was blood that had set him free. “The blessed… Their presence.” August had felt their arrival within the city, it was unmistakable. “How can we destroy them?” They had undoubtedly come here to put an end to their plans, to put an end to the Pythia, something August would never allow.

Still, the wickedness in her smile grew. Dripping with venom with the premise of a tantalizing sweetness as movements of a dancer drew her nearer the witch. Undoubtedly, she knew that none of them were so willing to hide any longer. The rise of the Asphodel was monumental; bringing about a world in those she sought after would no longer be forced to remain hidden. A world unto chaos. “Luckily, they’re fools and won’t notice their mistake until they’re already within our grasp.” Fickle, the minds of protectors - too busy with the offence to consider proper defensive strategy. It was, after all, how all else had fallen into their very laps. August had spoken to her many times about the ritual, about all it required and all that could come of it. The greatest of sacrifices to the Necronomicon - to her and the Goddess of True Death. Delicate features relegated his own now, silken tresses shifting as she tilts her head and reaches to brush fingertips beyond his ear, “I’ll be with you.” Regardless of where she was - she would be with all of them come their final rite.

Every so often; the turn of the century would bring to her a being or two that held a special place among those that served. Those that personified every ounce of fury and malice that she carried with her - born of Ulthar’s betrayal and Leviathan’s fury - August Cavaliere was one of those. “The Necronomicon knows’ what’s in your heart, I know you.” Far lesser men had sold their soul in it’s entirety. With frail drive and hollow machinations - but not August. “I look forward to seeing you upon your return.” In helping him to understand the full extent of the power it granted him; all that he could wield and all that he could burn in her stead. For all he’d given, her guidance and protection was deserved. “We’ll have much to discuss.” It was a feeling that he would undoubtedly come to recognize, where one followed - the rest were sure to follow, those tasked with hunting down the fallen and all those that stood in their way would not take lightly to Pythia’s resurgence. “I was wondering when you would begin to feel them. You must remember it, August. How it felt.” Too many would see him as little more than an outreach of her own power; and they’d be right. As long as the Asphodel continued to grow in power; so would she. “They can be banished, given the right tools and those willing to participate.” However, “Destroying one doesn’t come so easily, unfortunately.” Lips pursed tightly together and ran her tongue across her teeth indignantly, “The only way is with a seraph blade, wielded only by the divine themselves.”