holyspirits (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
holyspirits) wrote2025-03-23 03:12 pm
holyspirits) wrote2025-03-23 03:12 pm
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[Tiny hands curled on the edge of the door, peeking through that small opening, Taair catches a glimpse of his parents.
But they are not alone.
A man is holding his mother up by the wrist, her body convulsing and choking and gurgling due to the sword currently impaled through her chest. Blood pours out of her mouth. She twitches, eyes rolling around wildly as if trying to find anything, anyone who could possibly save her. But she only finds Taair with his tiny 6-year-old hands — and then she falls limp. Her eyes remain fixed on him, empty and unseeing.
Taair's father is slumped over the couple's bed. The previously white sheets, hideously expensive, are now stained with red due to the growing pool of blood that is slowly seeping out of the man. There is another man standing near the corpse, wiping the blood off his weapon.
Neither of them have noticed Taair.]
But they are not alone.
A man is holding his mother up by the wrist, her body convulsing and choking and gurgling due to the sword currently impaled through her chest. Blood pours out of her mouth. She twitches, eyes rolling around wildly as if trying to find anything, anyone who could possibly save her. But she only finds Taair with his tiny 6-year-old hands — and then she falls limp. Her eyes remain fixed on him, empty and unseeing.
Taair's father is slumped over the couple's bed. The previously white sheets, hideously expensive, are now stained with red due to the growing pool of blood that is slowly seeping out of the man. There is another man standing near the corpse, wiping the blood off his weapon.
Neither of them have noticed Taair.]
[It's so cold. But the hand yanks him out of the closet and shakes him for good measure. He immediately finds himself staring up at his father's angry face, with Adolphe's mother standing right next to him.
His father says something to him, but he can't quite make it out before the man starts pulling him along, yanking him out onto the boat's deck.]
His father says something to him, but he can't quite make it out before the man starts pulling him along, yanking him out onto the boat's deck.]
[His magic does work. He may start blasting at the bag of bones that chases after him when he turns east.
He should probably take care of it sooner rather than later, too. Because he soon runs into a staircase leading down into some kind of weird, makeshift bedroom.]
He should probably take care of it sooner rather than later, too. Because he soon runs into a staircase leading down into some kind of weird, makeshift bedroom.]
[ ah.
the men - they must be familiar. taair has a growing love for history, even at this age, and he's grown up around these people. soldiers, the king's army - and his father, the king, slumped over on the bed, a splatter of a dynasty on white sheets, on white marble.
he locks eyes with his mother on the sword. reflexively, his hands tighten on the door, like he might throw it open or scream or run to her, but the sight of the light leaving her eyes, nasir family blue, roots him to the spot in silence and utter, abject horror and fright, and all he does is suck in a breath - a tiny, sharp, horrified gasp.
but he doesn't scream.
the world statics out. but he has to run, doesn't he? he has to. he has to run. his memories are a mess of this place, blurry walls and burning buildings, sir leonide's broad shoulder, blurry faces and fire and blood. he takes one step back.
and then another. and then another, a hand over his mouth, his legs trembling. and then he turns -- and he takes off, like a coward. he runs. ]
the men - they must be familiar. taair has a growing love for history, even at this age, and he's grown up around these people. soldiers, the king's army - and his father, the king, slumped over on the bed, a splatter of a dynasty on white sheets, on white marble.
he locks eyes with his mother on the sword. reflexively, his hands tighten on the door, like he might throw it open or scream or run to her, but the sight of the light leaving her eyes, nasir family blue, roots him to the spot in silence and utter, abject horror and fright, and all he does is suck in a breath - a tiny, sharp, horrified gasp.
but he doesn't scream.
the world statics out. but he has to run, doesn't he? he has to. he has to run. his memories are a mess of this place, blurry walls and burning buildings, sir leonide's broad shoulder, blurry faces and fire and blood. he takes one step back.
and then another. and then another, a hand over his mouth, his legs trembling. and then he turns -- and he takes off, like a coward. he runs. ]
[ WHAT KIND OF SEX DUNGON HAS HIS MOTHER BEEN KIDNAPPED TO!!!!!!!!!!!
he whirls and entirely without remorse, summons the hottest fire he can manage. take that!
if that does the trick he'll start carefully tip toeing down the stairs ]
he whirls and entirely without remorse, summons the hottest fire he can manage. take that!
if that does the trick he'll start carefully tip toeing down the stairs ]
[It's hard to say what gives him away.
Could be the that tiny, horrified gasp. Could be his hurried footsteps as turns and runs away. But whatever it is, it causes the men to snap into focus and give chase.
He needs to run. He needs to hide. He needs to do something, because otherwise he will die.]
Could be the that tiny, horrified gasp. Could be his hurried footsteps as turns and runs away. But whatever it is, it causes the men to snap into focus and give chase.
He needs to run. He needs to hide. He needs to do something, because otherwise he will die.]
[It works! The skeleton is no more.
Tip toeing down the stairs, Hawke will find a queen sized canopy bed to one side, a dining room table set up with a romantic dinner for two, and a single ornate chair a few paces away from both of these things. The chair is turned away from him, but just over the backrest, he can see the top of someone's head. Covered in white linen, it's hard to say who it is.]
Tip toeing down the stairs, Hawke will find a queen sized canopy bed to one side, a dining room table set up with a romantic dinner for two, and a single ornate chair a few paces away from both of these things. The chair is turned away from him, but just over the backrest, he can see the top of someone's head. Covered in white linen, it's hard to say who it is.]
[ being an OP mage once again rues the day
meanwhile, he quietly tip toes through the room, careful not to disturb anything until he spots the other person in the room. given that it's not trying to immediately murder him he comes closer, trying to peer at their face ]
Mother...?
meanwhile, he quietly tip toes through the room, careful not to disturb anything until he spots the other person in the room. given that it's not trying to immediately murder him he comes closer, trying to peer at their face ]
Mother...?
[ at this age, only six, taair doesn't want to die. why would he want to? there's a whole world out there to be learned, a whole life to be lived. someday, a kingdom to rule. iria is wonderful and his home, and he wants to know it, and love it, and he wants to live.
so he runs. he runs as fast as his feet can carry him, down the carpets and rugs, ducking around a corner, past priceless family heirlooms and statues. it feels like he's trying to run through water, like all he can see in his tunnel vision are his mother's lifeless eyes and the blood pouring from her chest.
there's - there has to be somewhere he can hide. there's got to be a room open, somewhere?! the handmaids, the palace staff, the guards, someone? he runs, and runs as fast as his legs can carry him, and throws himself into the first open room he can find in desperation. ]
so he runs. he runs as fast as his feet can carry him, down the carpets and rugs, ducking around a corner, past priceless family heirlooms and statues. it feels like he's trying to run through water, like all he can see in his tunnel vision are his mother's lifeless eyes and the blood pouring from her chest.
there's - there has to be somewhere he can hide. there's got to be a room open, somewhere?! the handmaids, the palace staff, the guards, someone? he runs, and runs as fast as his legs can carry him, and throws himself into the first open room he can find in desperation. ]
[It never works out for him, does it? Never did run far or fast enough to count. And it stings, knowing he's doing it alone. Bill had been constant. Bill was a goddamn hero, his hero, all of theirs back in the day. Stuttered like the playing card in the spokes of his bike, but the boy stood tall and proud and brave. Braver than the rest of them. A rallying point for their flagging, mercurial childhood spirits.
And where is he now?
Richie hits the ground and squelches into the filth. Loses his glasses. There's an impossible shape encroaching on him. Impossible thing, beast from beyond the stars, you don't belong here buckaroo but boy you've sure made yourself at home!
He begins to laugh. Madness licks at the edges of his mind. And once more, that impossible, childish trick takes hold — though now it may be a last ditch effort, potent but not potent enough to fight It.]
Halt right there, ye great gruesome beastie! Or I'll fetch ye upside yer backside and yer frontside and yer back again! Ye hear me, ye scuttlin' gobshite! I swayre to Jaysus, I'll turn ye inside out I will!
And where is he now?
Richie hits the ground and squelches into the filth. Loses his glasses. There's an impossible shape encroaching on him. Impossible thing, beast from beyond the stars, you don't belong here buckaroo but boy you've sure made yourself at home!
He begins to laugh. Madness licks at the edges of his mind. And once more, that impossible, childish trick takes hold — though now it may be a last ditch effort, potent but not potent enough to fight It.]
Halt right there, ye great gruesome beastie! Or I'll fetch ye upside yer backside and yer frontside and yer back again! Ye hear me, ye scuttlin' gobshite! I swayre to Jaysus, I'll turn ye inside out I will!
[He runs and runs and runs, and throws himself into the first open room he can find! Just in time, it seems, because the two men chasing after him stomp down the hallway shortly after, completely oblivious to the fact that they missed him.
Taair can take a moment to catch his breath... It seems like he's alone for now?]
Taair can take a moment to catch his breath... It seems like he's alone for now?]
[ hahaha yaay. yaaay!!!
hawke, completely unaware, lifts the veil, and peers curiously. mother are you sleeping.....? ]
hawke, completely unaware, lifts the veil, and peers curiously. mother are you sleeping.....? ]
[ this is why he hits da bricks as an adult it's learned behavior!!! not actually but that would be funny
he throws himself into the room and rushes all the way across from it, far from the door, ducking behind the nearest piece of furniture he can put himself behind and curling up in a ball. what kind of room is this anyway, god....
his hands are shaking and his breath comes in short, desperate pants, but he puts both hands over his mouth and sinks to the floor. death is not something he's ever had to deal with, before. why would anyone ever want to hurt his parents? why would the soldiers and the guards want to hurt them?
the tears come fast, and he just sits there, hidden, hands over his mouth and shaking like a leaf, full of questions and fear, terrified, and tries to make himself smaller and smaller. at least now, he's alone. ]
he throws himself into the room and rushes all the way across from it, far from the door, ducking behind the nearest piece of furniture he can put himself behind and curling up in a ball. what kind of room is this anyway, god....
his hands are shaking and his breath comes in short, desperate pants, but he puts both hands over his mouth and sinks to the floor. death is not something he's ever had to deal with, before. why would anyone ever want to hurt his parents? why would the soldiers and the guards want to hurt them?
the tears come fast, and he just sits there, hidden, hands over his mouth and shaking like a leaf, full of questions and fear, terrified, and tries to make himself smaller and smaller. at least now, he's alone. ]
Edited 2025-03-26 04:20 (UTC)
[Richie reaches into the depths of his childhood and becomes Irish.
The creature recoils, screeching in anger and pain. Perhaps it is racist...? Or perhaps there is something more to it. The spider skitters back, giving Richie a small opening to try and pick his ass off the ground.
But unlike his confrontation with the werewolf all those years ago, this trick isn't as effective as it once was. The spider recovers far more quickly, bearing down on him once again and opening its maw with the intent to tear a chunk out of his throat — before something tackles it.
A moment later, Richie will find himself free from the creature's clutches. It and that mysterious something tumble away, falling into a puddle of nasty sewer water as the spider shrieks, thoroughly pissed off. Amongst its screams, Richie can make out the sound of a very human, very angry man yelling. Beyond just anger, it also sounds like he's in pain.]
The creature recoils, screeching in anger and pain. Perhaps it is racist...? Or perhaps there is something more to it. The spider skitters back, giving Richie a small opening to try and pick his ass off the ground.
But unlike his confrontation with the werewolf all those years ago, this trick isn't as effective as it once was. The spider recovers far more quickly, bearing down on him once again and opening its maw with the intent to tear a chunk out of his throat — before something tackles it.
A moment later, Richie will find himself free from the creature's clutches. It and that mysterious something tumble away, falling into a puddle of nasty sewer water as the spider shrieks, thoroughly pissed off. Amongst its screams, Richie can make out the sound of a very human, very angry man yelling. Beyond just anger, it also sounds like he's in pain.]
[He lifts the veil and peers curiously into his mother's face.
Except it is only his mother's face. The eyes are different. The neck attached to her jaw is the wrong undertone. Even her fingers seem wrong, nails longer than Hawke remembers. She is an amalgamation of different body parts from different women, held together by crude stitches and blood magic.
The eyes that have been shoved into his mother's skull swivel around aimlessly when Hawke lifts the veil. She gasps, a raspy, rattling breath. Blood lazily dribbles out of the parts where one woman becomes another, slowly coagulating with death.
His mother is awake. But is that truly a good thing?
And then the body pitches forward, falling onto his chest.]
Except it is only his mother's face. The eyes are different. The neck attached to her jaw is the wrong undertone. Even her fingers seem wrong, nails longer than Hawke remembers. She is an amalgamation of different body parts from different women, held together by crude stitches and blood magic.
The eyes that have been shoved into his mother's skull swivel around aimlessly when Hawke lifts the veil. She gasps, a raspy, rattling breath. Blood lazily dribbles out of the parts where one woman becomes another, slowly coagulating with death.
His mother is awake. But is that truly a good thing?
And then the body pitches forward, falling onto his chest.]
[ oh maker. ]
Mother?
[ his voice is small, frightened like it hasn’t been since he was young and the monsters he faced only lived in the shadows under the bed.
he holds her, even if everything in his senses rebels against the mockery of humanity that bastard has turned her into. she- or whatever left of Leandra Hawke- is still his mother and he won't deny her this even if he so desperately wants to run far, far away. this failure is something he'll have to live with forever and maker help him if he shies away from it. ]
I'm sorry, I took too long. I'm here now.
Mother?
[ his voice is small, frightened like it hasn’t been since he was young and the monsters he faced only lived in the shadows under the bed.
he holds her, even if everything in his senses rebels against the mockery of humanity that bastard has turned her into. she- or whatever left of Leandra Hawke- is still his mother and he won't deny her this even if he so desperately wants to run far, far away. this failure is something he'll have to live with forever and maker help him if he shies away from it. ]
I'm sorry, I took too long. I'm here now.
[A room for the handmaidens, perhaps. Dark and bathed in shadows. It is the perfect hiding spot for a very frightened, very traumatized little prince.
He cries alone for what feels like an eternity. Nobody comes looking for him. There is simply no one around to help.
Except, at some point, the shadows shift. A pair of slender, white gloved hands appear in the periphery of his vision. Reaching for him slowly and carefully.]
He cries alone for what feels like an eternity. Nobody comes looking for him. There is simply no one around to help.
Except, at some point, the shadows shift. A pair of slender, white gloved hands appear in the periphery of his vision. Reaching for him slowly and carefully.]
[She is cold. And there is a certain smell of rot emanating from some parts of her new body. Clearly, not all the women involved in this horror show were killed as recently as Leandra.
But there's still some lucidity left in her gaze, despite the milky white film that's started to form over her new eyes. With a clammy, trembling hand, she reaches up to cup Hawke's cheek. Her darling eldest son.]
My little boy... [She rubs a thumb over his cheek, gently.] I need you to know... What happened to Bethany... and what happened to me... It was supposed to be your responsibility. You failed us.
[... And with that, her eyes roll backward and she falls limp in his arms. But Hawke has no time to react to this, because the ground suddenly disappears from under him and he finds himself falling down into the abyss once again. Goodbye.]
But there's still some lucidity left in her gaze, despite the milky white film that's started to form over her new eyes. With a clammy, trembling hand, she reaches up to cup Hawke's cheek. Her darling eldest son.]
My little boy... [She rubs a thumb over his cheek, gently.] I need you to know... What happened to Bethany... and what happened to me... It was supposed to be your responsibility. You failed us.
[... And with that, her eyes roll backward and she falls limp in his arms. But Hawke has no time to react to this, because the ground suddenly disappears from under him and he finds himself falling down into the abyss once again. Goodbye.]
[ He's scared.
He doesn't know what his father says, but he's scared and can't make out the words. His mind feels blank, consumed by the fear. He's used to it, but it never gets any better.
Adolphe continues to struggle against his hold, even as he being dragged all the way to the deck. ]
He doesn't know what his father says, but he's scared and can't make out the words. His mind feels blank, consumed by the fear. He's used to it, but it never gets any better.
Adolphe continues to struggle against his hold, even as he being dragged all the way to the deck. ]
[His struggles are in vain. He's just a child and these are two grown ass adults.
Adolphe is dragged onto the deck and then pulled toward the edge of the boat, where his father immediately begins to lift him over the safety railings. Even past the violent crashing of the waves, he can still hear his parents say:]
Why couldn't you be normal? Nobody wants you.
[And—]
We're not wasting any resources on an unwanted child.
[He is then thrown over the edge, into the waves below.]
Adolphe is dragged onto the deck and then pulled toward the edge of the boat, where his father immediately begins to lift him over the safety railings. Even past the violent crashing of the waves, he can still hear his parents say:]
Why couldn't you be normal? Nobody wants you.
[And—]
We're not wasting any resources on an unwanted child.
[He is then thrown over the edge, into the waves below.]
[ there' s no one around to help - right up until there... is? maybe?
he barely registers it at first, wiping his tears with tiny fists as he finally pulls his hands away from his mouth. when taair looks up, though, he sees the gloves and lets out a tiny gasp, jerking his head up to see whatever... or whoever is reaching for him? white gloves. surely, surely that person must be safe. ]
he barely registers it at first, wiping his tears with tiny fists as he finally pulls his hands away from his mouth. when taair looks up, though, he sees the gloves and lets out a tiny gasp, jerking his head up to see whatever... or whoever is reaching for him? white gloves. surely, surely that person must be safe. ]
[He looks up and sees a beautiful woman dressed in white. With a gentle touch, she cups a hand around one of his cheeks and swipes her thumb under his eye, wiping away his tears. She is almost ethereal in her beauty. A divine vision, sent here to save him from his misery.
There is a promise of safety in her arms.]
There is a promise of safety in her arms.]
[ anyone in iria would know this face, let alone a child of the royal family. the ethereal beauty of bishop caris, voice of the hierophant, the one who brings the radiant's light to the nation. normally, he sees her giving church services, or talking kindly to his parents.
there is no reason to be afraid. (even if somewhere, maybe, deep in his core, he knows he should hesitate.)
the tiny baby taair's face crumples against the soft silk pressed to his cheek, and he hiccups, reaching his arms up to be taken to her light, to her safety. ]
L... Lady Caris...
there is no reason to be afraid. (even if somewhere, maybe, deep in his core, he knows he should hesitate.)
the tiny baby taair's face crumples against the soft silk pressed to his cheek, and he hiccups, reaching his arms up to be taken to her light, to her safety. ]
L... Lady Caris...
[She wraps her arms around him in a warm embrace, gently running her hands through his hair to soothe him. He's not alone. He doesn't have to be alone. The radiant has sent someone to save him.]
You're safe now, Taair. [her voice is soft. a welcome break from the horrors he has just witnessed.] Come with me, and you won't have to worry about a thing.
You're safe now, Taair. [her voice is soft. a welcome break from the horrors he has just witnessed.] Come with me, and you won't have to worry about a thing.
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