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Sionyx

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Sionyx last won the day on January 17

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  • Country
    US of Argh
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    Central (-6 GMT)

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  • Genres I Enjoy
    historical
    urban fantasy
    mythic fantasy
    swords and sorcery
    scifi
    biopunk
    cyberpunk
    soft boiled crime
    school
    romance
    dystopia
  • RP Limits
    I'm too poly for triangle/lover drama. Don't like horror or zombies, or giant space odysseys with huge galactic federations and such.
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    Er, probably like 500.
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    Let's say within a day.

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  1. That wasn't generally the sort of entrance Tristan expected from Hasan. Then, the hissing and Apollo's clicking answered the unspoken question, and Tristan decided to let that one go. Unfortunately, that was a whole lot of blood, and Sandalio hadn't had sustenance in 20 some odd years... no wonder he backed up. The only bright side to this was that technically, Sandalio was likely weak enough Hasan could defend himself just fine, but that really wasn't the point. "I'll go get the bloodwine," he said. "Just... stay here I guess." Apollo could handle whatever was outside, and Delara could handle the damage to Hasan's wing, and Tristan was going to go retrieve the bloodwine... probably several bottles because he kind of had a feeling that just one wasn't going to cut it, and that made sense. It was nice to be home, back around the scents of the Drago, but apparently something had gone wrong in their absence. Well that made sense; lots of things went wrong in their absence. He just hoped nothing serious had gone wrong. Then again, he figured if anything had, Hasan would've found them instead of the other way around. Anyway, he shuffled around the others and headed down the hall. One good thing about being an entire massive complex full of vampires, there was bloodwine literally everywhere.
  2. I always mess up this URL and what's funny is it's not even hard. Rofl

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Sionyx

      Sionyx

      Eventually I remember how to type it. (My browser's set to remove history and delete site cache and cookies on browser close, so I can't rely on my browser to remember it.)

    3. Kit

      Kit

      I can't possibly rely on my memory like that! Hats off

    4. Sionyx

      Sionyx

      Lol, but I can eventually remember a site URL, but not to eat. xD

  3. It wasn't like Daren had done anything Kassander didn't ask him to. Yet, strangely, or not, if you knew anything about his history with the particular being Daren glamoured into, he had a sudden urge to blast him into the wall, and his muscles noticeably tightened with that instinct. Kassander fought it down. The good news, if there was to be good news here, was Kassander didn't have the energy to, not now. "Marcus," leaked out of him in a whisper, like someone hadn't twisted the cap on a tube tightly enough. "I definitely did not ascend him, I would never have, he doesn't deserve whoever's wings he stole." He hadn't seen him, those cold, bright eyes, in so long, he'd forgotten what they looked like. He used to see them a lot, in his nightmares, when he was younger and still woke up screaming a lot. It was always the look in his eyes, the hard, piercing glint, the lack of any compassion or remote flicker of remorse for anything he'd ever done, that Kassander remembered, but for a few decades, it seemed he'd finally gotten free of it. Daren didn't quite replicate the vicious shimmer in them. Marcus had then, and seemingly still had, if this conversation was anything to go by, a very unhealthy obsession with him, and Kassander couldn't figure out if that was because Marcus had never accepted Kassander as his better, or had never accepted Kassander wasn't his. In the end, maybe the answer was both. Marcus was primitive enough a creature to fall into base instinct that way. It was then, somewhere amid realising that he wasn't really breathing, or focusing on anything, that his breath quickened, and he shoved himself back against the window and curled up right there, focusing on controlling the little bursts of air. Well, he tried, anyway. Controlling your breathing when you were fast slipping into panic mode was harder than it sounded. If he didn't get his muscles to relax, and his breathing to even out, he was either going to pull a muscle, pass out, or both, and neither sounded terribly dignified.
  4. ... knowing his brother, that was probably a flat refusal to deal with it at all. On the other hand, maybe it was for the best. One thing at a time, he supposed. There were plenty of things to deal with, and maybe the towering mountain on the table was threatening to break the wood just fine enough already. Tristan didn't respond verbally, just nodded once. It was long past time they rejoined the Drago, anyway, it was just fortunate they had found who they were looking for and could return triumphantly, and it made perfect sense that was what Sandalio would want at this point. Home sounded like a good idea. He didn't bother warning him, either; it was unlikely that he needed to. The shift in energy was generally enough to figure out what he was doing from. It was a short event, one moment they were standing around the remains of the nightmare cage, and the next, Apollo was softly beeping its hellos. "The layout's about the same," he said. "Very similar at least. Kassander didn't want anyone getting too lost." Getting lost in your own home, technically, was really kind of not great. "And you can ask Apollo where he is, if you want to go there first. ... doesn't seem like Hasan's here." He couldn't sense him, no. Hasan was doing most things around the Drago, now that most of them were looking for Sandalio, and Kassander was only able to manage so much before he needed to rest. Now that they were back, Tristan at least was going to go figure out the current state of things and start helping again. Hasan probably could use the assist by now.
  5. Pisces sun sign, Capricorn moon, Gemini rising/ascendant, in solar system order everything else is: Aquarius, Capricorn, Capricorn, Cancer, Capricorn, Capricorn, Capricorn, Scorpio. Basically the stars all happily aligned to make me a creature of contradictions. cccccc:
  6. Yes, even him. Kassander just sighed, letting Hasan leave, if that was what he wanted to do. It was odd, kind of, to see that small sliver of Sandalio in Hasan. They did have that in common, didn't they? They both loved him more than was logical, and clung to him harder than they should, but then, he supposed it could've been worse. For a moment, he looked awfully tired, and then shrugged, slightly. "Maybe Icarus," he answered. "Maybe he could finish the second Apollo. But he's chasing Sandalio. ... I'm not even sure there's a Sandalio to chase. There seems to be an awful lot I don't know, suddenly." As it turned out, apparently so, and Kassander wasn't sure how to feel about that. On the other hand, he was dying, and maybe it didn't matter how he felt about it. Hmm, daevas could shapeshift, though. Obviously, Daren had seen this Azrael before. "Show me," he said. "This Azrael, you know what he looks like. Maybe that'll help?" Seeing, sometimes, was easier than simply trying to remember who exactly was attached to a certain set of sounds in a certain order, and sometimes there was more than one person that was, further complicating things, and, even better, human features could only be arranged in so many ways. Eventually, yes, people started looking like other people, and Kassander was so old by now, he'd probably met at least ten different people that looked just like so and so. Unfortunate side-effect.
  7. No, home wasn't Italy. It seemed wrong, Tristan understood that. Italy had always been home. Even when the Drago di Napoli did happen to relocate, they always stayed in Italy. From Capua, they'd gone to Salerno, then most recently, Naples, and they had been there ever since then. Of course, one day, Kassander decided, seemingly on a whim, that they were going across the sea to the New World, specifically a land-locked place in the endless expanse of the midwestern United States, and everyone was supposed to believe there wasn't a reason they were doing this, and Kassander was going to be happy with it. And then the Desert Storm came, Sandalio had disappeared, Kassander had started dying, and most days, Tristan really wanted to go back to Italy. Nothing had gone quite this terribly in Italy, and Tristan wouldn't deny being a little homesick. "Luxerion, Nebraska," he answered. "... it's fine if you don't know where that is. We do." And they could, of course, guide him the right way. Tristan made a face, for a moment, thinking, and then said, "you've been gone about twenty years, and... last I heard, no one knows why, but Kassander is dying." Perhaps these were things he ought to get out of the way, before they got there, so that he could do his processing beforehand. Rather than having it dumped into his lap immediately upon arrival, because it was obvious, last he saw their alpha. Kassander was a once-bright candle flame that was steadily spluttering out, and quite frankly, it was painful to watch, and sooner or later, Kassander would collapse on him, as often he did. It was just easier, overall, if Tristan warned him before they got there.
  8. Well, he looked okay. At least, he didn't look like he'd pushed against the cage too much, enough to do notable damage to himself. At the moment, Tristan was going to consider that a good start. Not perfect, maybe, but a good start. Turned out, too, they did have the right nightmare cage. It was about damned time they found him, Tristan was a little annoyed about it, but he was trying not to be. Something like that. When he figured out Sandalio was reaching for him, though, Tristan shuffled over there and unceremoniously hugged him. He didn't say anything, just yet, but neither did he need to, because the way he relaxed and the fact, were Sandalio any smaller, Tristan probably would've completely swallowed him in that hug, that said enough. "Ryan's an idiot," Tristan said, quiet, "and attacked Maharaja amid looking for you. He's alive, but barely." By some miracle, Kassander had managed to save him at the last second from his own stupidity, but, all Kassander had really managed to do was keep him alive; Ryan was still healing, and it was somewhat of a toss-up, if he'd ever wake back up. "And before you bolt off somewhere, home's not Italy, anymore." Yes, it did cross his mind that Sandalio wouldn't know that, and maybe saying that early on was a good idea. You know, before he tried going back to Kassander, whom, last he checked, was in Naples, only to find, Kassander's not in Naples. Tristan could find him again, but that really wasn't the point, no it was not. He really didn't want his brother running off right now, mostly because the after-effects of a nightmare cage took a bit to fully go away, and if he wasn't where Tristan could keep at least half an eye on him, well, he'd seen things go horribly wrong much faster than that.
  9. Yeeeah, no, he didn't. Which was kind of unfortunate, because if he did, he'd have been a lot easier to deal with than he was. Of course, he and Surya had figured something out eventually, but between trying to shield the house and figure out where the fuck Sandalio and Kassandros had ended up, that was more of a mess than it needed to be, and Sati, for his own, was just glad Kassandros had only just died. If he'd been dead any longer, he was quite sure neither of them could've saved him, no matter how much they wanted t- Wait. What? ... you know what, maybe he shouldn't ask right now. He wasn't even sure what he would want to ask right there, nor how much Alex could even answer. Of course, it was also possible his sense of time had gotten skewed, by the nightmare cage, and maybe he'd ended up slurring time periods together. That was... that was very likely, so, maybe it was best if he just left that alone, at least for now. Of course, logically, the daevas wouldn't be quite that afraid of him, perhaps. He was still a vampire, and he'd imagine they'd think him an easy target; vampires usually were, for daevas, and then they met Sati, who was resistant to their light magic and had a penchant for setting their wings on fire. Kassander was probably annoyed by that, but Sati gave precisely zero fucks. It would kind of make sense, if - but Kassander would never - ahhh, he'd figure it out later. "No, no he doesn't," Sati answered. "Can you handle shadow-stepping, or should I walk like a normal person? ... what is a normal person?" He'd never figured that out.
  10. Azrael? They hadn't had an Azrael since the first one, and that was a little over three thousand years ago. Kassander hadn't even been alive back then; well, no, he was alive but he wasn't Kassander. He forgot what his name was, something Greek. Anyway, that wasn't the point. "I have not ascended an Azrael in three thousand years minimum," Kassander stated, his eyebrows furrowed. "The first Azrael was the original daeva of death. Many have followed after him, but, none have taken his name after him. Whoever our current Azrael is, his name was probably different when he was alive." Kassander breathed out, focusing a little, and closed his eyes. The light streaming in through the window flickered with slight golden sparks. ... actually, there was a large chunk of Maharaja he couldn't see into... it was almost like darkness was blocking it, but, if he tried using the shadows, instead, those couldn't see into it, either. That was strange. What was blocking it... at Hasan's words, quite the accurate guess, Kassander peeked one eye open, then the other, and sighed, a bit. Hasan always was fairly intelligent. He supposed, it was really a matter of time, until he figured it out. "Yes," Kassander answered. "I've been experimenting, trying to see... if I could build a modified version of Apollo, that could act as the buffer that moved the life-death cycle, filtering the aura in and back out, but it is a little more... complex, than I first thought, and I have neither the time nor the energy to complete it." Ultimately, he was stuck with this. Either Axel figured his shit out, and Kassander passed the burden onto him and lived, or Axel took too long, and Kassander died. Still, could be worse. Couldn't think of how right now, but. He reached over, taking Hasan's hand for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay, you know," he said. "Everything goes away, someday." Even him.
  11. "Is this surprising?" Tristan asked. "It shouldn't be." Especially if and assuming the one in there was in fact Sandalio; nothing short of divine intervention could really keep that guy away from Kassander too long, and Tristan knew that. So, no, he wasn't surprised the cage was warped. Of course it was. ... Tristan might've done the same thing, really, so he couldn't even pretend like he wouldn't have, even knowing it was liable to shred his soul. Nobody said what happened after that; Tristan probably would've tried to find out first-hand. ... yeah, they were still related. It took a while, not that Tristan was counting, but eventually its sparking stopped, it started to crack, and the cage's frame became more solid and visible. Almost. A breath in, and Tristan built up a load of electrical energy. The shadows at his feet suddenly buzzed with alarm, and shot through the chips in the cage. Backward! they hissed, hoping Sandalio could still hear them. Your brother's insane and he's tossing an electrical ball at it! That could cause collateral damage, and you know, maybe getting shocked was not so great an idea for someone fresh out of a nightmare cage. If nothing else, it might trigger half-wild self-defence instinct, and that could end badly. Only a handful of seconds after they hissed their warning, a loud crashzap! sounded, as Tristan's electricity ball slammed into the corner. The shadows shot upward, spreading across Sandalio's skin in effort to absorb the electrical charge, if any reached him, before it hurt him. The rest of the cage's walls cracked and fell apart, the pillars shattering. Tristan, for his own, stayed right where he was. They learnt a long time ago not to make any sudden movements after busting one of these. It tended to be rather unpleasant. ... he had a headache now... well, yes, he'd probably used too much energy. Oh well, it was broken. That was the important part.
  12. ... oh, he knew this boy did not. For a long moment, it probably seemed like Kassander wasn't going to answer that at all. If one was paying attention, though, he'd gone a bit tense. Unfortunately, the sudden wave of anger just underscored how tired he was, but he'd survive for another few minutes, at least. Long enough to tell this idiot what for. In his head, he mulled over the words, his hands gripping the edge of the nearest board, so tight his knuckles turned white. "Don't," he started, tone very low. Kassander rarely ever raised his voice and this idiot wasn't going to be on the list of things he raised his voice for. "You have no idea what I've been through, the things I've survived, the things I didn't survive, the choices I've had to make, you don't know how much I had to go through to get here. You don't know me, Kaspian, you don't know where I've been. Don't mistaken hard work for dumb luck. You know what your problem is? You just don't want to change. Because when you're off the ice, the roaring in your head gets louder and you never did figure out how to face those demons, did you? Well guess what, ignoring them doesn't make them go away, and maybe it's never crossed your mind, but Alison and Skylar don't want your stupid money, they want you. So how's about you come down off that fucking high horse now and start smelling the goddamn roses. ... and don't talk to me for at least a week. Figure your shit out on your own, you're so determined you know how, then." Kassander didn't even wait for an answer. Whatever graceless rhetoric Kaspian could manage to sputter out in response to that really didn't matter to him, not now. In a week or so, maybe only a few days, he'd be less pissed off. In the meantime, he needed tea, and a nap. With that, he just pushed off the boards, and walked away.
  13. That made two of them, Tristan supposed. By this point, it either worked, or they were back at square one again, and they'd ended up back at square one so many times, Tristan was starting to question if they'd ever even left it in the first place. That was, maybe, a little sad, in a sense, but also he didn't terribly care, by now. It was what it was, so to say. "Yeah, so am I," he answered, and then followed Icarus and the shadow trail right after. It led somewhat in a zig-zag, but, Tristan figured it had to follow where shadow actually fell, and eventually, it stopped. It took him a moment, but, he saw the hazy outline of a nightmare cage, alright. Whether that was the right one, or not, that was in the air. Then, the shadows could probably go into it, the chances of it being the right one were likely quite high. He didn't much like this, but they'd been figuring they were looking for a nightmare cage for a good long time, anyway. It was the only thing that made sense of Sandalio being gone so long. "Well, even if it's not the right one," he said, "we should break it, anyway." Those damned things should just die out. Unfortunately, there was still at least one daeva that remembered how to make them. In any case, Tris didn't waste much more time, backing up a few paces, and hammering it with magic. None of them were a necromancer, which had an easier time breaking these because nightmare cages were very similar to necrokinesis, just perhaps a bit fancier. You ran the risk of damaging your soul breaking it from the inside, and if you weren't a necromancer, well, it was a lot of hammering it with magic until it broke. That usually took a while. Oh well.
  14. On one hand, maybe going home, now, would be something anyone else would've done a long time ago, and Tristan, despite not liking this idea, had thought this several times already. Honestly, it was even somewhat likely, given what was going on with the Drago and Kassander specifically, that Sandalio himself would've told them to go back a long time ago, and Tristan didn't like this, but he tried to remember it. It likely wouldn't be much longer before even he gave up, not because he wanted to, but because he imagined that was what Sandalio would've wanted. He'd have wanted them with Kassander. Whatever was going on with him was serious, serious enough it was steadily killing him, and even Hasan had no idea what the hell it was. That said something, because after Sandalio, Hasan was the Kassander-events lord. Still, they were still out here, and Tristan wasn't sure if he should feel bad about that or not. Mostly, he deigned not to think about it, too much, lest he start questioning his own sanity. Most probably would've given up years ago. Most people weren't an Essair. You knew not stubborn until you'd met an Essair. This was doubly-true in the face of a Spanish Essair. Ask the what? Icarus explained that, after a bit of prompting, though, so Tristan didn't ask. ... didn't the shadows have a habit of knowing things the light didn't, anyway? There was always darkness somewhere; even when there was light, there was darkness somewhere, whereas the light wasn't really in the darkest corners. It stood to reason, the darkness knew things the light couldn't see. ... and why, exactly, had none of them thought of this, oh, maybe twenty years ago? Tristan internally rolled his eyes, more at himself because he knew how darkness worked, thank you, and then watched Icarus. The shadows seemed to get excited for a moment, and then stilled... and arranged into a trail. Tristan looked that direction, and tilted his head. "... haven't we been that way already?" He was fairly sure they had. On the other hand, by now, everything looked like everything else, so maybe they hadn't. He could admit to potentially being wrong.
  15. "And congratulations." He'd said that almost instinctively, and then blinked tiredly, and remembered Daren hadn't been to see his mother, just yet. Oh. Perhaps that was a bit early, then. "... you'll understand later," he added at the end. It'd make sense when his mother had the opportunity to explain what he'd just said. For a moment, there, a very long moment, after Hasan had explained what he was thinking, Kassander looked distinctly unhappy with that idea. If he went up there - and mind you, it wasn't like Kassander was under any impressions Hasan was weak by any means - then he'd be around whichever daeva was doing the feather-shredding and nightmare-caging. He'd already lost Sandalio, and he really wasn't terribly interested in losing Hasan next, but he also understood Hasan was his queen, at the moment. While not happy about this arrangement, it was the most effective for getting answers, and clearly they needed them. He just, wished it didn't mean Hasan went outside of his range. Kassander couldn't protect him while he was up there and Kassander down here, and the chances of anyone letting him go up there with him were slim. Never mind, in this state, Kassander would be a hindrance, not a help. He didn't like this. He liked it even less, remembering he didn't know which daeva it was, thereby had precisely zero insight into what that daeva was capable of. "I hate you sometimes," Kassander tiredly grumbled, sliding down on the windowsill. He wasn't pouting. "I love you too much to let you go, but I need your help too much not to." Ugh, whenever he figured out which daeva this, boy was somebody really losing their wings. "I don't have any other ideas. I've mostly been leaving it alone for lack of any idea what else to do with it. It's not like I even know which daeva this is." That was a bit odd. He should know, so why didn't he? Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it mattered a lot. Who knew.
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