Summary: That special time of year
Adrian adjusted the cast of his neck. His bones were healing even slower than his heart from the manticore menace's attacks. Thus, to ease his broken body, he looked for the one medicine more potent than laughter. "Oh, fort art where is my blade?" Drama! For one day a year, he had a chance to watch a play without any interruptions. For once, he could appreciate it as just a spectator and not as a great director.
Now the only problem the great Adrian Gray faced? It was dull as sin. Just tired cliches thrown together with an old yee spin. He knew storyboards were far and between, but at least make the actors give a performance worth their skill! They were almost as bad as the coven scouts. At least with them, they knew they could die if they didn't follow every note and script to the letter, even if they couldn't find the hidden ones.
"Thou blade which you slain my brother is in thy hands now, you vile cur!" Oh titan, a revenge story. As if this play wasn't by the numbers enough.
"How can art defend thyself against a face such as yours?" Wait, wasn't the whole point the love with his enhanced blade? If it was poly they should have advertised it as such. What next, surprise twist mask of evil? "Egad, if only you weren't tainted by the despicable Mask of Ventura."
"Titan Damn it! Where's the creativity!?" Adrian banged his head against the chair in front of himself. How was it that the only creative people in the world nowadays were criminals? Harpy transformations, fusion magic, bards that could create gornadoes with a few notes, magic paper!
If only he could see that human and devil child in their daily lives. Sure he'd kill them, but teenage angst was the best. He remembered highschool in the gory days. Back when Terra was a violent teacher, Hettie constantly chased boys with scalpels wanting to 'play healer', and that love triangle with Odalia, Darius, and that nobody that was making the abomatrons. That last one was such large gossip he didn't even have to go to the same school to hear about it.
"Oh, I am stabbed, what folly." At least act like you were in pain. Stabs into the stomach were child's play. A stab in the chest or eye would've conveyed that more realistically. Take off the baby gloves and show some real blood! That would at least prove the passion behind the words.
"To kiss the wound gently." If it was gentle then why could he see tongue?!
This was a mistake, there was nothing wild and crazy he could see here. At least, nothing that would keep him invested. Hopefully the others were having just as bad of a day off today.
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Terra once more handed the 'troubled soul' their potion. "Drink it up, it'll clear the headaches right away." Of course she was forced on babysitting duty. Why couldn't they force it on Vitimir, or Adrian? Plant magic didn't even specialize in messing with the mind!
"Thank you Terra, you always know what I need." Every second she spent around that smile was another moment her bloodlust bubbled up inside of her.
Deep down she knew why she was keeping watch over Raine. Terra knew them since they were a sprout and could easily detect when they were being suspicious, and be able to snuff the brat out without hesitation. Problem was that Belos's required Raine to be alive..or it would be the most convenient for them to be alive until the day of unity passed, and Terra couldn't go a single second without wanting to snap Raine's neck for all the trouble they brought into her life.
"Of course, now drink up and I'll go back to tending my flowers." And squeeze a couple of voles to paste to satiate her desire for murder.
She watched them blow on the steam as always, taking a sip. "So much better … what do you put in these anyway?" Raine questioned, smiling at their drink.
"Nothing special. A hint of fire bee honey, shredded jade, susshroom.." And a heaping pile of brain altering drugs to suppress Raine's more 'troublesome traits' as it were. If it was up to Terra, she would've just burned the memories to ash. "I take it you've improved yourself to take on the threats to Belos?"
"I did try out some new melodies, but one of them just ended up acting as a rot spell." Her former sprout nodded. "Don't really enjoy the smell of rotting flesh, so it's a bit of a last resort."
"You really should stop playing it safe, sprout. Holding yourself back never does anyone good … unless you are intentionally doing so, then we have another issue to deal with." Please, give her an excuse to snap their neck.
"Do you really think going full power against the Manticore Menace would be worth the effort, or even work at all in the long run?" Raine asked skeptically. "Adrian made him shapeshift to the point he lost half his brain, but his body still functioned. Not to mention Hettie's been trying for years with no success to wear down the healing factor."
"Ah yes, that does present a problem." Terra smirked as she looked over to the weeds that had somehow sprouted up into her garden. She needed to turn her gardeners to mulch later. "The trick however is to keep digging deeper." She forced the roots of the weeds upwards, gripping them in her hands and tearing it to shreds. "No matter how deeply buried the roots are, every weed can be pulled out. Just like any tree, big or small."
They chuckled. "Careful, at that point you sound like you plan on taking out Belos."
"I'm thorough, not insane." Like she was moronic enough to believe she could take on Belos. If she wasn't trying to actively prevent stirring up the memories, she'd call the cauldron black. "Paradise is a month away. I wouldn't be caught dead doing something so inane and pointless."
"Just looking out for my favorite caretaker." They stood up. "Can I fetch you anything since I'm here anyway?"
"A bottle of Apple blood if you could. This is my one day off and I'm going to take full advantage of it." One day to forget about responsibility, the idiot gardeners, and most of all, insane, troublemaking children. If she ever had to be forced to listen to a child again, she was going to lose it.
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Osran stared off into the stars, rocking in his chair. He understood his fate to die, and had spent his life in preparation for it. He had lived all he wanted to, and left behind no regrets. Every vice taken, every road traveled … Osran was proud to say he had done it all.
Since nearly the beginning of his life, he had a natural inclination towards oracle magic. When he was three years old he was given a crystal ball for his birthday. The first time he used it, he found out every present he would get for every future birthday from then on out.
At first it ruined the joyful surprise, and he avoided it for a while, and Osran was fine with it … until his father died. After that he dove deep into Oracle magic, doing his best to change the course of fate … but it was never enough. His sister caught a curse that shortened her life to one year, his first love left the Isles in a storm, and his mother drowned herself in apple blood.
It was then that all became clear to Osran, fate was unchangeable, immovable, and there was little point … until he spoke with his sister during their last month together. She reassured him he couldn't have done anything, and they spent their time happy … and that's when he understood the truth of Oracle magic. You could not change the inevitable, but you could know its approach, and come to peace with it, preparing yourself for the moment's arrival.
He spent many a decade from then on out using the little time he had left to impart wisdom into those that needed wisdom. A wandering soul lost, a confused child in need of guidance. He roamed the isles, imparting little seed of peace and comfort for those seeking it out, blessed to be blissfully unaware of the end.
Then, fifty so years ago, Belos emerged. Word of a supposed prophet of the titan travels far and wide. Belos preached many a message, that the magic they used was wrong, that only he and he alone could purify it, and save them.
Unbelieving of this, Osran checked into his future … and saw the end of all the Boiling Isles. For the day, he grieved, cried out in despair at this tragedy that would befall the realm. But the next day, Osran set forth on a new mission, one to ease the suffering and bring as much joy as possible for the fifty years they had left.
He walked up to the man himself, and told Belos about everything. He told him how he would win, how the day of unity would come to pass, and how the time travel of one human girl would be the key to his success.
Osran had no high expectations. He figured he'd end up in the pits of the underworld, freezing for eternity at not trying harder … but what was done was done. He donated as much as he could to orphans, helped grant as many wishes of dying patients as possible, rescue the lost and reunite them in their old years … all he could to ease them into the end.
For he was the only Oracle in the Isles to attempt to see past the day of Unity … and thus he and Belos, not even the likes of Kikimora or the Rebellion, knew the true tragedy of the Dragining Spell … for energy could not be destroyed …
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Ebberwolf howled as he tackled his cousin worm. "GRAA!"
"WOOOHH!" Ha, the kidder still had jokes.
"OWOOO!" Ah, now brother wolf wished to join! Thrilling!
" Scraaaaaaaa!" Don't bring up old wounds, sister griffon. And to think one hundred successful hunts would get him some slack for failing one.
"Brrooo." Yes cousin crocodike, he knew it was Crystal Devils invading on territory, but on the plus side they never showed up anymore after that massive invasion. Only one or two stray ones, but never in masses.
"Keeerrr." They all turned to mother Sliterbeast's attempt to calm down the situation.
" Gawaaah." We're all just playing. We won't tear off any limbs. We've learned our lesson with second cousin Kelpie.
"Grrrr." Father Beetagroot said that playing was fine, but leave arguments for later. It was time to enjoy rare moments with family. "Grrr." Although he wanted in on the action too.
" FAAAAAAWAAAAAAH! " Grandpa phoenix, have you been taking your medicine? You're shouting obscenities randomly again. Grandma Vole's been avoiding you for a reason.
" SQEEEEK." That, and you also can't help but try to eat her every five months, that also has put a damper on your relationship.
"Gggrrr." It was wonderful for Ebberwolf to be around family again. Such fond memories flooding into their head and heart. Being dumped into the mud by whoever gave birth to him. Mama slither beast warming him up at night because she initially planned on eating him for breakfast but got too attached. Taking in brother wolf, meeting father Bettagroot, the ever expanding family they all gained and made together. A family that was always ten seconds away from eating each other, but wasn't that what normal families did anyways?
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Mason cracked his neck as another half finished tower came crushing down. After a whole year of making things better, making impossible items, and dealing with chaos, it felt nice to just let loose and crush objects. "Ah, a tower, one with a strong and sturdy foundation. Practically invincible and indestructible." With a single precise blow, he smashed the load bearing columns, and brought the whole building down. "Until now."
He laughed. For as much as his magic was made to build things up, it was quite easy to use it to destroy. Far too easily actually. He understood completely why the likes of the Clawthorne engaged in active chaos. Breaking everything in sight was so addicting.
"Oh, lets go for something a bit more grating." He constructed a small statue. "'Oh, Mason, I need you to do impossible things all the time because I can do anything.' Well how about this for anything!" He crashed the statue of Belos, laughing. Mason was loyal, but it was GRATING to deal with impossible standards like that.
That was such a rush, he needed to do it again with more annoying people. He created several more. "'Ooh Mason, stop dragging dirt everywhere and living like a plebian'. Well not all of us wake up and immediately apply eyeliner everywhere, Darius!" He brought the hammer down and smashed the head into rubble.
"'Oh Mason, why don't we spend all our money drinking all the Apple Blood we can?' Haven't ever heard of saving money, Terra!?" He turned that woman's wrinkly old face into dust. "'Oh, you're such a brute, learn some subtly.' Stop being a highschool drama queen Adrian!" He pile drove his entire body on that statue.
"And Osran!" He shouted, turning to the statue. "... Actually you're pretty chill." He moved on. "'Oh, the emperor is great and grand and perfect'. Maybe try lowering your head to kiss his foot!" Mason swung a hammer down on Kikimora. "'GRRRRGGH! I'm a wild animal, that gives me a free excuse to steal your lunch and shit on the floor!' If it was up to me, I would've put you down years ago, Ebberwolf!" He launched the furry stature into the air.
"And don't think of yourself as so high and mighty, Golden Kid!" He slammed onto the statue, huffing. "... And here people say I need therapy. This is catharsis at its finest." Just bottle up every emotion you have and release it in one charthic moment. What was better than that?
"Ugh, I swear some days I just want to tear down the entire castle and level the whole isles into the ground." He rested on the floor. "If only, if only." Well, If Belos' plans for paradise were to be believed, then he would have all the land he wanted to build…and destroy…however he pleased.
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Vitimir hummed as he worked. "You know, I was never a fan of curses and poisons. Sure information can be gathered, but it just ruins the corpses and makes them hard to study." He explained. "It's why I try to keep every specimen as alive as possible."
"Funny, I actually am quite fond of them." Cutburn grinned as she mixed her vials. "When I was a child, I'd often see my classmates wandering the woods being normal dumb children. Occasionally they would eat a poisoned berry or rub flesh eating moss on them. It was fascinating to watch the agony in action."
Vitimir paused his work. "Remind me why you chose the healing coven?"
"Because the intricacies of how ailments affect the body intrigue me, and undoing that damage is a stimulating challenge I like to engage in…or at least…it was ." The woman growled. "The moment the owl lady's reputation grew, it overwhelmed me with business for sure, but that Clawthorne brat … he drowned me in overtime. I exhausted all my supplies just undoing half the damage he inflicts on the idiots in the Emperor's Coven."
"I thought he just bubbled them and tossed the Scouts into the streets?" He questioned, mixing another vial together. "How is he causing more damage nowadays than the last two invasions?"
"For one, he's not gentle when he bubbles them. And two…it's personal." Cutburn growled. "Everytime that family is involved, the situation escalates. It starts small, with robberies. Then it's musical numbers that destroy entire streets, then it's a basilisk invading a school, then it's a human cutting up limbs, then an invasion of crystal devils, basisiks, need I go on?"
If Vitimir recalled correctly, the boy and his family were actually the ones who prevented the situation from being worse, but simply shrugged in response. Morality was the price of Experimentation after all. "The problem with trying to place a curse on a Crystal Devil is that their body can simply phase through anything too threatening. You'd have to curse the inorganic rock that acts as the core itself."
"And the problem with that is that there's practically nothing I can do that can affect it." Cutburn growled. "From your research, I know that they are weakened by lack of sunlight, but it's not like getting him into a shadowy corner is going to zap his strength. I need something, like a living parasite or leech to constantly prevent continual use of his powers while stopping any more absorption of light."
"You could always use a curse that acts similar to rust." He suggested. "Covering the skin with an unbreakable mold that leeches off of sunlight."
"No, he'll break out of that, if not by his own strength then by outside factors. He has friends with plant magic, abomination magic, illusion, potion, bard, and who knows what else." Hettie grumbled. "I don't just need to break him…I need to eliminate everyone that could possibly help him."
"If it's overkill you want, then try a self sustaining entity." Vitmir suggested. "Something that will feed off the boy's own magic, and constantly spread everywhere without delay." He went into his special cabinet full of rare finds and specimens. "During my last visit to Hexide, I happened to stumble upon the most peculiar sight. A living curse that happened to be trapped inside a pink bubble. Something that clearly the boy did not want released."
"Are we talking about killing whoever gave me sentience? Because buddy, if you are, then I'm all for it." The bubble spoke. "Hang me over to big horned bimbo over there and let's cause a massacre!"
"... Did you put it away because you wanted to preserve the specimen or it wouldn't shut up?"
"It can be both." Vitimir admitted. "In either case, I believe it'll prove to be the perfect baseline for what you're looking for."
"...What do you mean by baseline?"
"It means I'm going to melt you down for your essence to finally perfect my revenge." Hettie grabbed the bubble, holding it over the brewing cauldron.
"So this is it … can I get some last words?"
"Why not?"
"Fuck everyone alive, lets cause a massacare!"
"Eh, not the worst last words I've ever heard." The healer shrugged, before dropping the bubble into the pot, where it popped and the creature boiled alive. "Now … let's test this damage."