"Get Me Augustus' Body." It's Said Without Much Thought, But Neither Do Her Plans Grow Too Bold Just

3,000 years pass and I'm back to this.

THE WHEEL OF TIME ↳ Season 2 ↳ Episode Eight | What Was Meant To Be

camila queiroz via instagram

Even as the horrid nickname that once adorned her echoed throughout the otherworld, Leviathan was aware of the intrusion. Something within the darkness pulled forth an abyss of silence - a black hole swallowing every sound as she approached. The stringent tendrils of shadow pooled at her feet, hissing, not unlike water to a heated surface, and disappearing completely as she eyed this creature with a warm smile. The absence of light seems to lift slightly, "Better to ask forgiveness, than permission, clearly" Pythia states, indignant call to the fact that he'd already made the assumption. She tilts her head, looking over the stranger and the beasts at his side retain their composure - awaiting a command that never comes. The tone of her voice is rather soft, the glimmer of her jagged edge smile forming in the corner of her mouth, "Foolish of me, to perhaps hope that only good thoughts accompanied the name. Call me whatever you like, if only for a name in return."

@fxllenpythia location: The Otherworld notes: so proud of this ambitious queen

Wow it sure was dark out here. Ganymede had never been to or seen the Otherworld - but was it always so spooky? Everything seemed to be very friendly though, he was accompanied now by a menagerie of very kindly ferocious monsters. "Levi?" Gany called out, a little timid. They hadn't met, but she was always his favourite child. He was looking forward to bringing her home and getting the family back together again. "Oh, good, there you are," he said with a sigh of relief, "your father told me he always used to call you Levi in his head, is it okay if I call you that?"

Reservoir Dogs (1992) ⤷ dir. Quentin Tarantino

One moment, she stands before Vitoria, and the next tendrils of smoke carry her to the alcove the Narcissus once sat. There are a great many followers - or those soon to be, that Pythia listens to, eavesdropping for tidbits of information that would otherwise make it all the easier to twist them to her bidding. It hasn't gone amiss, that Vitoria, like her mother before her, is seeking more information on the world of blood magic. "You continue your search for knowledge," she smirks, all warmth and endearment as she pats the alcove beside her. "Yet you seek it out in the wrong places." Of course, she talks of the Amaranthus - those who may know the touch that blood magic can offer, but never the true gift of it. "You're on the verge of offending me, dear Vitoria. I thought we were friends."

who? @fxllenpythia where? the museum, staff area

There is a little alcove, hidden on the staff area of the museum, that Vee likes for it's emptiness. Hard to find, it is rarely inhabited, so she takes to taking naps or breaks on it when everything becomes too much. With Kaan gone, so it's one of her safety needs, and there is a suspicion raising on her chest that she does not want to acknowledge. So she doesn't, blinding herself willingly in this matter as she looks at the ceiling and exhales. She has time before anyone needs her, so she is considering sleeping, when a chillingly familiar presence approaches her. It is almost like welcoming an old friend, like seeing family after a long time.

Vitória has heard Pythia's voice ever since she was a child, the murmurs encouraging on her exploration of blood magic, their present constant at the back of her head.

Recognizing them it's easy, what comes after? Not so much.

"What do I owe this pleasure to?" She questions, standing up as graceful as she can manage and offering the Archfiend a bow of respect.

A sentiment they'd shared for centuries, undoubtedly. Disappointment was not something he ever offered to her and regardless of where the coming days would lead them - Leviathan would never doubt his desire for survival and all that came with it. "Good, when we're successful, we'll bathe in rivers of blood and all those who banished you will suffer their regret, my love." Already, battle regalia sick with crimson, thousands more would bleed and though the taste of it lingered upon her tongue, it was far sweeter when mottled with the taste of him in the kiss she steals, "It'll all be ours, soon enough."

Arakhor's fingers slide along Leviathan's jaw, this form that they'd chosen a worthy one for the time being. He grinned slightly, autumn magic swirling around them, fueled by blood magic and the noble elven blood that used to run through him. Eladrin needed the boost that this dark magic gave them, and as long as he and his brother survived, then all was well. "Of course. There's nothing that I would rather be doing," he grinned, thinking of all the seraphim that would meet death at their hands. If only there were more within Rome, it would've been a worthy cause. Titania had children here that needed to be killed, one a sorry human and one a spawn from a fiend.

In the end, nothing mattered to her beyond freeing their brethren from the inferno. Lives lost, of the Asphodel or the Senatre forces would all suit her end goal one way or another, the closer they drew to the apex of everything Leviathan would bring to fruition. The world burned, and soon, the gates would open. The disappointment of those within her ranks who sought the moniker of traitor and deserter left a sliver of hurt resting upon her chest that she'd sooner deal with than linger within. While so many damned her to the inferno all over again for all that suffered under her influence, Pythia was only ever guilty of giving people what they wanted. Untold power, influence - the key to immortality. The price to pay was hefty, and those unable to swallow such a blade were better suited as fodder. A weakness that the coven would never tolerate.

Enfenim's presence doesn't shock her; he has always been mischievous. Nosy, and rather impartial to the thought that his brother's place at her side offered him some leniency. Despite the fact that his soul didn't belong to her, he was one among them all the same. Leviathan didn't need to tether the brothers Elandrin to her. As long as the greater demon sought chaos and death, they'd be there. As if the fiery glow of Necromanteion and the stench of death that bled from the battlefield beyond wasn't proof enough. Words spoken against her ear quiver deeply within the corner of a devilish smirk and hues of obsidian glance up at him as he finds a place by her side, "It feels as though it's about time," it seethes through her teeth, in the same way, hot water soothes aching bones, "No matter what they do, they will always lose." People, stability - alliance. It would all disappear within the ash of all that she'd burn around them. "Does this satisfy some semblance of your own desires? The fairy king is tainted, lied to and become new again. It seems as though Ayi'ig did not know all, before that slaughter."

@fxllenpythia location: Necromanteion notes: he said: you're looking even hotter than usual

The destruction was admirable, truly it was. In a matter of time the Allied Senate Forces would breach the walls and begin to pour into the City, that’s when things would truly get interesting. Fighting from the walls had its perks, but after nine days it was stale, Enfenim generally preferred to manipulate from behind the scenes, contrary to Arakhor who was all merciless killing all the time. He’d projected a portion of his consciousness into the mortal realm and watched how so many of his people had started to fall, their pathetic desperation was going to get them all killed. A waste, a hateful waste, if nothing else the exile preferred to be at their side: killing drow and making sure that the fey of significance lived and the fey that were insignificant… Well, died for something at least. 

An empowered greater demon had no option but to be radiant, malevolence and power rolled off of the fallen angel that Enfenim had always known as Leviathan. The liar with many names and faces, the serpent that could find her way through any defence, any plot. Enfenim found Leviathan in her chambers, overlooking the city, his cold hands brushed against her shoulders as he approached from behind. Beautiful and indomitable, winning was her most attractive quality. “How does it feel to be on the cusp of getting everything you ever wanted?” Enfenim asked against her ear before he moved to stand at her side. Loyal to himself first and Arakhor second, he had his own reasons for standing among the Asphodel. All this death was just a plus.

Practical Magic (1998)