this is my true freedom
#1
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some powerplay, hope you don't mind mel Big Grin. set on the surface of anathema's territory. hover for translations
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Misery had told Larkspur to meet her and to bring Eris with him. He'd asked of the fertility ritual and she'd just grinned - more heirs to the D'Angelo, more children raised with the faith that would save them - she was more than happy to help. She'd asked for a day or two to gather things, and she'd caught him the previous night to tell him things would be ready. The ritual needed to be done in the light of the sun - the pair belonged to Tak, but they would seek Ankh's blessings for the sake of the children. No one wanted to be born to Tak. You miss your devil-god. Damian's voice, quiet and clear, and she waved a hand idly at the air. "Hush. Today's not the day for you." I'm not going anywhere. But that was part of the luxury afforded by the fact that he was dead and she was not. While she often saw him in the periphery of her vision, he couldn't actually do anything if she wanted to ignore him. Not like in life when he had at times been less than a gentle beast, he was just as much a monster as she was.

Three sacrifices were laid out on a rock in the light of the midday sun. Two of the rabbit's were clearly dead, the fine fur stained with their own blood. The other was still breathing, albeit in a very slow way, and the creature's black eyes were wide and dazed. Misery had tied the rabbit's legs together and shoved it rather full of hallucinogens, sending the rabbit into a half comatose daze. Tak was a hungry, terrible god, and while she would meet his demand of living sacrifice she wasn't going to have the thing be fully aware. Misery knew the fear of that pyre, she had tasted the ash in the air before her twin had loosened the ropes holding her back. The little rabbit would die in the flames but Misery would show mercy. You did none of this for ours. That's why they died. Misery froze for a second, not wanting to remember the interregnum of her faith. But she shook it off, leaning over and pulling a jar of golden dye from a brown leather knapsack and setting it on the rock next to the rabbits.

The fire was catching. She crouched, her right leg quietly screaming in protest but she was too focused on what she was doing and blew on the embers, poking a little more kindling in. The flames began to dance merrily and she stood carefully, a quiet stream of curses escaping her. "Stupid girl, verdammt bein. Stupid alter.". One hand idly touched the inverted cross that hung around her neck, and once more she regretted not snapping Meth's neck shortly after birth. Meth had been a demon visited upon her for her sins. But now wasn't the time to glare and growl over her hatred of her dead daughter, and she just stood, quietly watching the flames and waiting for her son and his chosen to arrive.

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#2
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While rituals had been forbidden from his youth as a child, Larkspur was aware of their purposes. His sister had gone through a similar one to this before he had been chosen for the pyre. Wisteria had never been friendly to him outright, as was the way of the Khalif. Even as children, they had been separated. Though cruel to him around others, sometimes at night she would seek him out. She had feared a great many things, and confided in Larkspur about these. At night, one was not supposed to speak of fears—but she knew he would protect her for Tak, who claimed the boy as his own. She walked between worlds. Neither of them belonged to Ankh. It was a shame, and had caused their mother much distress.

Their own brood had been out for the day. Salvia often lingered around their animals, while Pandemic and Wretch made their own games up. Pandemic had been focusing on the large fire within the central cave recently, though he had been warned repeatedly to be careful around such a thing. Fire still terrified Larkspur in its own way; when Dahlia de Mai had burnt, he had fled.

He walked with Eris quietly, having previously explained the purpose of this meeting with his Aunt-Mother. Eris had wanted more children, and Larkspur would do everything he could to provide these for her. It did not take long to exit the caves and begin trailing Misery through the forest. After so many days of winter, the sunlight felt like heaven against his dark pelt.


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#3
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DERPY POST IS DERP

The Eternians had but one fertility ritual, and Eris did not consider it meaningful. It was irrelevant as many beliefs of her former homeland were, and she had cast it aside, eager to engage in this new ritual. The sable-shaded hybrid had followed Larkspur eagerly, leaving the children in Sirius's care in the caves of Anathema while they made their way above ground. Larkspur did not speak to her as they walked, and Eris remained quiet, keeping her questions to herself as they went. The white-marked man had explained what he knew, and the Tuyul knew she would have to wait for the pallid woman to perform the ritual prior to receiving further questions. In any case, the hybrid woman did not care -- she was ready for anything, whether that would involve consumption of hallucinogens herself or ritualistic sex or her own pain and blood in offering.


The pallid wolf was finally visible in the distance, and Eris had to restrain herself from prancing, a strange and girlish excitement having welled up in her from the moment Larkspur informed her of the ritual and their participation. They continued forward, coming across the older canine slowly. The chartreuse yellow eyes of the hybrid peered to the rock, studying the rabbits with rather close attention. She saw one's motion and determined the other two to be dead, her gaze sweeping over the other things Misery had prepared. The fire, something in some type of jar, and unknown goodies abound within the satchel carried by the elder canine. Eris remained quiet, looking to Larkspur to speak.

hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
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#4
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Out
of Character

ERIS SHOULDA PRANCED :| Ilu both


In Character

Misery had to admit a certain sense of jealousy. They were young and preparing for even more children. She was fairly certain each and every one of her own brood were gone. Poe and Samhain had no doubt perished, she knew with utmost certainty that Meth, Jude, and Rift had died. Three cursed souls, one last to a fire of her own hand, the other to a cruel river, and the third lost to a rusty nail. It all seemed laughable sometimes, but it was the laughter that turned into reckless, mad tears. The children with Anzu had been a mistake - he had been a slow witted, too gentle fool. But they had been left in Khalif long ago, and she thought of them rarely. Little Damien with his golden pelt and bright eyes had been the only one she had kept from that terrible place, his name made him precious to her. Nox was more than likely lost to the pyre, the little black female would have little reason to be spared. But she had made Ahren and Matinee's child the leader in her stead, hopefully Wicca would spare her cousin. The girl was soft that way.

"Lark, Eris." Misery's voice was bright and warm as she called out to them, an easy grin on her face. She would explain the ritual instead of simply performing it - the black wolves of Khalif were rarely allowed to learn the fertility rites. Most of the males were simply held down and forcibly neutered, but she supposed Larkspur's temper and large size had kept him safe. A few swift kicks normally took care of problems for the black females. The female rose carefully, wincing at the pain in her bad leg. She was too old for this shit sometimes, she swore. There's no pain where I am. She would join him one day.

"There's power 'n the number three." Those words were more for Eris than Larkspur, he would know that much. "The livin' rabbit is for Tak, he owns both of your souls. You want to appease him so he doesn't take them while they dream." Tak could snatch a child's life straight from the Mother's womb. He was cruel in many ways. "And the other two are for Ankh. You want her favor. We won't be doin' any offerings to Rah'khir, she has no sway over either of you." They belonged to Tak, the Silver Lady had no interest in them. But they could plead with Ankh and her gentle spirit might grant them another child bathed in white. Or she would whisper gentle words to her silver sister, and perhaps Rah'khir would claim them. "The two of you will be adorned with this," The golden ink was held up and gently sloshed around by her careful hands. "Then you'll throw the rabbits in the fire and repeat my prayer. Then you wait for me to leave before gettin' to business. There are some things I never need t'see Lark do." Misery shuddered, even she wouldn't go there. The unctuous fat of the rabbits would no doubt spark the fires well, but they could ignore the smoke for their rituals. "And for the next two days you need to get to couplin' in the day. Not at night. You wanna try your best to make sure they are conceived beneath Ankh's eye, not the devil-god's. So you leave her be at night, do you hear me Larkspur?" Quiet and scolding, her gold green eyes studied her son firmly.


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