Fxllenpythia - Sinner

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@felixtheleech​

It’d been some time since they’d last crossed paths, a few centuries at best and yet Pythia had never forgotten a face, and certainly not one that would seek to call out in later years. Whether he should so readily remember or not - the throes of pain and anguish as the Eye had first tainted the creature he’d become were etched into the unending plethora of memories and even still, finding him now - here in Rome, didn’t shock her in the least. She heard them all; each and every one that called out for her; pleaded for another chance, more power, more everything, and the resounding echo of all of them would see to it that Pythia never fell, but Felix - Dominic - was one she returned to in the depth of his darkest days with an unspoken promise to everything he should ever want - should he ever find the light of day once more. “I was wondering which century I’d find you in again.” As if speaking to an old friend, she predicts the confusion she’ll be met with; such familiarity didn’t exactly paint itself so readily; the fallen all but a voice that belonged within his head.

BENSU SORAL   | 1.02  －  Tuzak

bensu soral in tuzak

"Admittedly, I haven't had a chance to catch much of it." Though, now that she'd been drawn from the reverie of everything else the procession offered. Hesitation lingered for a fleeting moment, forgotten as Uriel switches his juggling method. "Shuffle over,, something tells me I'll never forgive myself if I don't see this." The last two glasses on the tray she held snatched up as she left it behind, offering one to Dionaeia, "I have no clue what this is, it's sweet though, far too easy to drink."

who? @fxllenpythia where? by the clown show

"Amazing show, isn't it?" Dionaeia mentions at Pythia with a small laugh as she sees Uriel juggle. Something about the sight gives her great pleasure, and she has spent way too much time seeing the four clowns do their work rather than enjoy the tragic festivities. Silenus would be proud of the the festivities, she thinks. "I can't seem to look away."

“I’ve seen far worse than your mind,” she states, the edge of humor lingering upon the precipice of her tongue as the corner of her mouth twitches to something that might have otherwise grown to a smile. Nothing about Dominic - in this life or the last was enough to make her shirk away and nor would anything to come. Pythia had seen - felt - committed atrocities far worse, to which there was no true end in sight. Instead, where others saw rot and poisoned beings, worthy of nothing more than to be cast to the depths of sanctimonious punishment, she knew resilience and loyalty beyond all else. The light wasn’t the only place that could curl hope around entwined fingers and draw them closer to the sun.  

Lips pursed as she dug her toes into the warm sand, pivoting in place as he rose to his feet. To some, Selene Carvalho was a fidgeter, never quite capable of remaining still for too long but the serpent that lay beneath simply knew no rest. “We all do when we’re kept from being what we’re destined to become.” And his chains kept him from so much, “What they wish to do won’t fix you. They want compliance and little more. What you’ve become spits in the face of their docile little community they wish to return to and the Eye knows as much; hence why they did what they did.” Haplessly, her tongue slips out across her lip as she narrows hues in reflection of his own, “I know what they’re out to do. I say let them try.” There was little Pythia wouldn’t face; she’d certainly never backed down from a challenge. “What about you, Dominic? If you were to be.. fixed, as you say. What then? What becomes of your anger and rage for the eye? For the senate? For all they’ve done to you?”

fxllenpythia​:

 Proof once more, that those among mortals - humans and creatures alike, remained the hypocritical downfall that would lead to their own ruin. Pythia watched from within his mind as the senate conducted such damning practice that they might otherwise condemn another for. Another wretch among many that she believed highlighted their undeserved coven over this realm. It was certainly enough to draw a sliver of rage into the breadth of her chest. “Not yet, and certainly not if I have anything to do with it.” She muttered as she pulled Dominic further into his own mind - a safe haven where chains did not beguile him.  It felt like years, since she’d done as much for him. Years a captive of the eye had seen her present more often than not within his thoughts, however; his release had been something she needed to see from the outside. A witness to how far they’d twisted him. Admittedly, she’d missed him. “One would think you’d see that I’m not quite done with you yet.” Was he ready? To be both monster and man? His memories returned to him, Pythia knew the collision of the two would warrant a war all it’s own, and yet - “You still have purpose, Dom. When the time is right, I’ll be the one to point you in the right direction.” In her direction.

-

The cell was quiet, most of the prison perhaps empty after the great jail break during Halloween. But the Aspect themself was powerful; this wasn’t the first time he’d met them. Another body, another life. It seemed like a fever dream, one that Dominic was pulling himself out of slowly. At least the burning hunger went away when he saw Pythia, when he saw their form in front of him. “You make me wish I would’ve cleaned up,” it was an attempt at a joke, his humor a bit rusted and jagged now. He looked down at his hands, clenching them together for a moment.

He felt a warm breeze hit his back, sand beneath where he was kneeled on the ground. An illusion, but still a sense of freedom. Perhaps it would hurt more when he was ripped from this fever dream; when the Pythia would fade away, when her voice would be all that was left. “I feel like a fucking mess,” he admitted, pulling himself up to his feet now. She was there, and Dominic idly wondered how long it would be until he was free from the Senate. Until he could stand in front of her once more. “They’re going to try and fix me.” Take the leech out of him; return him to his Mars bloodline, “It’s all I fucking want. I can’t live like this. It’s not living. The Eye – they’re out to get you. The Asphodel.”

NATASHA O'KEEFFE as LANFEAR in WHEEL OF TIME 2.08

One of the flaws of all mortals was their impending ability to lose sight far too quickly. So adept to instant gratification that the eons Python had spent piecing together each path of intentional destruction was so quick to doubt in their minds. Their wishy-washy desires formed of self preservation, rather than the desire to claw for everything they had. One did not seek out the powers of infernal darkness without getting burned in the process. The disappointment was wrought, but that was nothing new. The book was gone, and yet, that didn't dampen Leviathan's spirits. All she had to do was reassess. "Don't I always?" The maniacal leer to her tone is unforgiving. However bad it may have seemed - there are far worse fates to suffer, and the archfiend intends to see it through to the end, over and over again if they must. "Whatever it is they suffered you, Bastien, their forces do nothing but pre-empt their own by constantly fighting it. Regardless, we'll see it through. The books destruction is nothing if not history repeating itself - they're fools to think this would squander our intentions."

where. wherever this hoe be hiding who. @fxllenpythia

The Necronomicon had been destroyed. After thousands of years, he could feel its loss so keenly. As if a piece of himself was gone, lost forever. Which is why he could understand how Pythia may be feeling in the moment. After all their plans had been ripped from their hands, shredded before their very eyes. Bastien had been imprisoned for his connection to the Asphodel, had not questioned his loyalty for even a moment as his mind fractured within his cell. So now, he felt as if he did not know what to do. Did not know what direction to point himself in. "Do tell me you have a plan already forming."

It’s about as much as she suspected, and rightfully, she could have trifled through his thoughts to establish as much, but she’d known Seth for long enough to offer him the courtesy of asking. “How lovely to know that some still hold onto some semblance of common sense then,” anyone who thought to look to the senate was foolish. It only served to curb the realities of the world as it was. Were creatures given the respect they deserved, the world would have fallen to the chaos she so desired to see it in. “And what do you look towards now? Has your outlook and desire for more swayed?” Again, actions speak far louder than words, but she doesn’t intend to be burned by one of her own while the Asphodel stumble closer and closer to their goal. “Is this your way of speaking for him?” Pythia muses with an ounce of amusement, already rather familiar with the vampire that he speaks of. “You wish him to remain.. untouched?” She’d spent some time within the mind of the former leech, undoubtedly, the thought of drawing him into the fold had already arisen in recent memory. “Would he swear to it? Or would you?”

          The Pythia was once an entity in which he worshiped, each sacrifice among the concrete altar providing sustenance for the book in which the Senate and Archdruids attempted to impede. They had separated the book, plucking away it’s spine, the cover, the contents; pulling them to different places within different realms and still, they had failed. Believers such as Seth, practitioners of the infernal magic locked within each book, were the living proof of such potent beliefs that would keep the book from being null and void. Though he no longer had magic adeptly reigned at the fingertips, Seth’s knowledge of what once was, was vast and limitless. She’s to be respected and yet the Criminal laughs at the asinine nature of her question. It’s a fair question though Seth has never been technically rational; the Necronomicon had blackened his soul and the descent which he’d taken within vampirism had only fragmented his mind further, “The Senate doesn’t serve me, I don’t look towards them.” Normally, he’d disregard his progeny and yet somehow, one in particular had found their way back, “I do have one progeny here but the others, well, the only thing we share in common is our bloodline, nothing more.” He thought of Dominic, once branded as Felix the Leech, but said nothing on the matter.