the truth is in the gallows

[inferus]

WHO: Wrath and YOU
WHEN: first half of August
WHERE: around Taravast especially Beacon/Necromancy District
WHAT: Learning about new magic, gaining disciples, plus whatever else.
WARNINGS: tbd. potential violence, dark emotions.

Necromancy District

Wrath spends much of the first half of August within the Necromancy District, interested in observing their more extreme methods of healing people, and especially interested in learning how to break a curse through magical methods according to what they know. Information is powerful, and he is well-informed about magic, which makes what he knows a commodity. Throughout the month, he slowly conducts lessons and gains three disciples within the district. Heard of his lessons? Want to join in on one?

If others are exploring the District, they may find him in any of the shops or rooms where healing/experimentation is happening that he has managed to trade his way into. He stays near a back corner, observing. Even with his mask on, he gives an aura of being off (otherworldly, angelically attractive, demonically predatory). He primarily observes, but sometimes asks questions, offers a hand in assisting if he has the chance.

He surveys the illicit potions, inquiring to the effects of each, hoping to find one that might cause incompetence. Emilia has many suitors, most of them hapless save for one. Wrath senses dark emotions that would make his brother Lust grin from ear-to-ear. Not trusting this suitor to know the meaning of a safe word, he is on a mission to find a potion that will take him out of the running and teach him a lesson. It is not murder he is looking to do. Yet.

Miscellaneous

You may find him at any of the following:

- Wrath spends time at the Beacon, visiting it several days, asking about it to locals, collecting information about it. It is warded and locked away like an ancient relic, like an item to be observed but never touched.

- Keeping an eye on Emilia di Carlo, but from an appropriate distance most of the time so as not to raise suspicion. Studying her suitors from afar and then being annoyed by their existence, especially when they are the ones who get to dance with her at the parties. Then being annoyed to find himself annoyed. This is fine, and he doesn't care at all.

- Wrath sometimes teleports into secure rooms within the two academies of magic when he thinks he can do so without being seen. This leaves the clear scent of fire and brimstone behind when he does so though he attempts to do so when no one else is around. Others might be sneaking into rooms that he teleports inside of. For the most part, he uses his influence and lessons of his own magic to study visions at the Attaryl school of magic, sitting in on lectures.

- He attends the parties with the air of someone who has been to many before. With ease, he speaks to the nobles around as if he has always been here, playing his role, performing miracles when asked to. These miracles include changing the temperature of the room, lighting fire with a few magic words, or even healing minor ailments. If he sees anyone struggling, he will assume they are part of the group and offer advice on how to keep up appearances if only so they will not be discovered. You are welcome.

[ ooc: hit me up with wild cards freely or simply contact me through pm/plotting post/plurk and I'd be happy to write something else. reminder there is always the potential for being near Wrath to increase angry feelings your character is having if you want to play with that. :) Wrath does not do this on purpose - it's just a side effect of being angry near him. ]

Comments

Party! Please rescue this idiot

[sergeant_slick]

Slick's life has changed a lot in the past few months. First, he was absolutely certain the Separatists were going to kill him, and soon. Then, the Jedi were going to kill him, immediately.

Now neither of those are a problem anymore. And because there was no such thing as mercy in this galaxy, something else had come along to take their place.

Parties are going to be the death of him. Slowly.

"Sir, it's not in my nature to brag," he fends off yet another question about his apparently storied military career. The bugger who'd outfitted him with the medals had done too thorough a job of it, these things were real, and he hadn't a damn clue what they meant, up until locals started chatting him up about how their uncle had been at the Battle of Whereverthefuck, did they know each other? What was it like?

He was just doing his best to be boring. Take his higher-ups back in the army as inspiration--act like a flawless little meat droid, spew some humble nonsense, then try and get the hell out of this corner he'd been backed into.

one rescue from the prince of hell coming up :)

[inferus]

Wrath clearly notices the struggling even from where he stands, engaged in conversation of his own. In this case, he does not blame him for the struggle. It is one thing to take on a role, but another entirely to recall specific details of battles one has never been part of. However, it is also an easy way to be found out, and their group cannot afford to be found out if they wish to succeed.

With ease, he excuses himself from his current conversation, and then steps over in the direction of the others in time to overhear another question being asked about the details of the battle.

"A true soldier of war would never speak on the details of the battles he participated in," Wrath says as he inserts himself into the conversation. "It is a frankly difficult and morbid topic of conversation for a party. War never changes." Regardless of the world it is in, regardless of the century, Wrath would know. There is little he knows better than war. "The medals speak for themselves."

what a savior!

[sergeant_slick]

Oh thank hells, he's got backup. "I couldn't have put it better myself, sir." It gave him just enough breathing room to feel like he had his feet back under him. "This city has enough conflicts to attend to already."

That gets the locals off on a tear about politics, which he's eventually able to excuse himself from. Good thing too, this act was starting to wear on him. Although once he gets a minute alone with his thoughts, it's not just the act that feels like the problem. It was those questions. Treating war like something exciting, like it was a game to spectate on. Was that how civilians were like, back in the Republic? Watching the whole rotten mess as some sort of entertainment, because they didn't have to get their hands dirty?

He's still in a rotten mood about that by the time the party's winding down, but when he spots the man from before, he feels at least a smidge of obligation to say thank you.

"Hey. Thanks for the assist earlier," he keeps his voice low, since there's still a few locals hanging about. "Couldn't get them off my back. I guess I'm going to be reading up on whatever wars these people've been getting up to around here."

[inferus]

Wrath appreciates the man has enough good manners to thank him for it even if Wrath did not help out of the goodness of his heart. He stops briefly at the thank you and merely nods in acknowledgement of it.

"We all have to work together toward our ultimate goal."

If he had left him alone, he might have been found out, and existing among nobles is something he is keenly familiar with. It is all about titles, about genuine politeness, about following the laws and regulations set before them. He is still learning the ones specific to this place as the way they questioned someone of high ranking would not be acceptable in the Underworld.

"A good idea, especially if you can get your information from true soldiers within the battles and not politicians." They paint a different light on it all. He turns toward him, taking a sip from his goblet. "Are you familiar with war in general?"

[sergeant_slick]

Slick nods. This is the first city he's ever gotten to explore by himself, but after this party, he's not sure he likes it much. Though that might not be a 'Taravast' problem so much as a 'people' problem. He honestly doesn't know--he's never gotten the chance to figure it out before.

The question gets a bitter laugh in response. "Raised and enslaved for it. I think I've got the general idea of it, yeah. You?"

[inferus]

Wrath's expression shifts immediately, and his shoulders tighten. There is little he hates more than when choice is ripped away from someone. It sounds as if his choice was ripped away.

"Raised and enslaved for it?" His voice is low, laced with something- something dangerous. It is not the first time he has heard of such a thing. The question draws pause from him. "I know it like one might know their own hand."

When he is not called the Prince of Wrath, he is the Prince of War itself.

[sergeant_slick]

"Yeah. That's what a clonetrooper is." Although nobody here had any idea what he was talking about.

"Don't know how many of us there are, but it's enough for a whole galactic war." There were millions. At the very least. "Indoctrinated and altered to make us not question it. Except they messed up with me, I guess." And just him. Just him. All the lies should've been obvious to anybody who got deployed to Geonosis, seen brothers in shiny new armor get blasted to pieces because of the Jedi. They'd been raised to believe Jedi could do no wrong, and then they'd turned out to be fucking clueless wizards who had no idea how to lead troops, and everybody was stuck with one as their CO.

And still everybody acted like it was great, even guys like Chopper who had half their face blown open. Sure, life was hell now, but they had the Jedi on their side! They couldn't possibly lose!

His face was starting to ache from the tension in his jaw. He took a deep breath. He was still in public. Keep it together.

That moron from earlier must've really gotten to him. "If I get stuck at another one of these parties and some clueless civvie starts asking for exciting stories, they're in for it."

the beacon

[lancifolium]

It wasn't the first time she'd caught sight of the gentleman studying the beacon. In truth, Lily had come to do much the same, often circling it with her notebook in hand, jotting down observations about the structure as she moved.

This was the thing that promised to set everyone's lives back to right and transport them out of this world and back to where things made sense again.

Obviously, she wanted to know everything about it.

That she didn't seem to be alone in that sentiment was intriguing enough to have her amble in his direction early one evening, after spotting him there a few times.

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

[inferus]

Wrath recognizes her as the other person who has been spending time at the beacon, visiting whenever she could, writing notes about it herself. He is disappointed there is not more to know about it.

His gaze moves over to her when she speaks, and he lingers for a moment, deciding what to say. If the rumors of this beacon are true, they should all want to restart it and use it to return where they've come from (should).

"It is." If she is researching it as well, perhaps she has come to conclusions of her own. He steps closer to her even as his dark gaze remains on the object itself. "For an object of great power, I cannot feel any of it even resting beneath the surface."

[lancifolium]

"You can't?" Studying the structure Lily pursed her lips as her thoughts circled back to the mystery the Beacon presented.

"I have hope that there's a library in this city somewhere that might contain a book with answers about this thing." If it had the power to get everyone home, then certainly it was an object of legend.

Turning to look at the gentleman she raised an eyebrow. "If there's no power to be sensed here, then where is it, and what makes it run?" It stood to reason if the man in charge of the city was the only one that could make it go, perhaps there was a key he had a lock to or a switch he could flip.

[inferus]

Wrath shakes his head, studying it carefully. He would think even if it were locked away he would be able to feel it, but he does not know how magic works here. It is different at least in some ways from the magic in his own, and if the object is warded enough, he may not be able to sense anything through it.

"I have asked around to the locals, and they have some answers or at least what they believe to be the answers." A pause then. She has been studying this for some time as he has.

Before he decides how useful what he's found out would be to her, it's important to understand her current knowledge: "How familiar are you with magic?"

[lancifolium]

When questioned on her familiarity with magic Lily was torn between transparency and choosing to be selectively vague. Using magic freely had brought her a fair bit of grief back on the Stairs of Sighs, and since then she had been a bit more cautious, however welcome magic seemed to be here.

"Familiar," she said finally, settling on an answer that was both honest, and entirely noncommittal - he could always mistake her for a scholar of some kind - which made it the safe choice. "Familiar enough to know there's more to it than just this," Lily concluded, gesturing up at the Beacon.

[inferus]

Wrath looks at her and then nods, accepting that for what it is for the moment. It is not as if he has been open about his own knowledge of magic, his own ability to use it. They are both interested in the beacon, and if she has theories beyond what he does, it is useful to share information.

"From what I have heard from the locals, there is a code to turn the beacon's power on once more, but current leadership is not actually interested in doing so. Most of the people here seem accepting of that."

They have no interest in restarting the beacon.

/extra tl;dr for being late

[somebadnews]

There is a correlation between having something constantly on your mind and seeing it everywhere you go. It's like that for Five and the apocalypse, no matter how different the city he finds himself is. He can feel the streets burning before he blinks and reveals the people fully done up in masks that barely show their eyes. The Commission comes next, so fond of their masks that would make it easy for them to slip into this crowd. He has family here now, and with his affliction, it would be so easy for them to take advantage. His thoughts get so tangled up in the possibility that he's ready to attack anyone who approaches him if it just meant releasing some of the agony he's carrying.

Wrath had told him it would get worse.

It could perhaps be a complete coincidence that he continues to see the demon out of the corner of his eye nearly everywhere he goes in Taravast. Mask or not, he stands out in a way that makes him aware of his presence, whether he's in a group or alone surveying the beacon. He's an unknown threat, and that would be enough reason to keep his guard up, but there's likely another reason he gets his attention. There are others who seem to take an interest in Five the way he did, and all of them point towards the same area where the Necromancers gather. And where he notices Wrath is constantly drawn to. They all want answers.

He can appreciate the desire to study something that he doesn't understand, but when it's something inside of him, he's equally unsettled by any offers to help. That's the feeling he gets when men done up like plague doctors look up as he walks through the winding alley to the shop where he saw Wrath enter. Before they say a word, Five disappears in a brief flash of blue, and appears behind a table towards the back of the densely stocked room. He only needs to take one glance to find the demon perusing the various ornate bottles.

There's something ominous about the space, dark and smelling of things he can't quite identify, and he's suddenly not sure that this isn't all a front for some other type of activity. He could ask, but he's the type who likes to see it with his own eyes.

It only takes him a few seconds to gather himself and slip on some casual indifference when he's near. It's difficult to read anything in the dim light with the mask covering his face, so he lifts it as he plucks one of the bottles from a shelf. He looks Wrath over, but soon turns his attention to whatever he just grabbed. Obviously he hasn't been stalking anyone, he's simply here to shop.

"What do these do?"

/happily embraces every word :D

[inferus]

Wrath feels Five before he hears or sees him. The dark emotion and offness of the magic within him is so poignant that it would be impossible to mistake him for anyone else at all. He has thought of him and his problem- his curse as they headed into Taravast. As a city of magic, it is the perfect opportunity for him to find the answers even Wrath does not know. However, as with everything else, it will undoubtedly come with a cost.

With what time he has spent in the Necromancy District already, he is aware of the extreme limits they will go to to solve a problem, to heal, to fight back death itself. If only they knew who he once was... Would they embrace him? Shun him? Want to learn even more from him?

Wrath does not so much as look up as he surveys the stock in front of him. The Necromancy District may very well have a solution to his problem. Is that why he is here?

The mask is not on his face either at the moment if only because he has made connections in the Necromancy District already. They know him beyond the mask. He knows a rare few of them beyond their own too. They sought knowledge in the very same way he has been seeking knowledge.

He turns his gaze toward the small human, and then the potion within his grasp. "...I didn't know you were so interested in potions," said casually himself as he slips the current potion in his own hand back on the shelf, but turns to have a closer look at the one in Five's hand as he waits for his response.

:>

[somebadnews]

Five raises an eyebrow at the word 'potions'. Maybe he expected there to be a more scientific name for them, but that's asking too much out of a shop for necromancers. He hasn't been able to concentrate enough to figure out how it works for himself, and he hates to think how much further he'd be along if he hadn't acted so impulsively months ago. He would like to say he had a firm game plan for how he was going to solve his problem and could trust that he could undo anything he fucked up too spectacularly, but so far he's only admitted that there's an issue and taken the first steps towards trying to understand his options.

That's not the same case for the demon, who already looks right at home. He also doesn't seem all that surprised to see him again. Either he noticed he was being followed, or he expected Five to come around here looking for answers.

Even if he had the time to see what potion Wrath put back, he doesn't know enough about his motives to guess what he might be searching for. The bottle still in his hand is ornate, heavier than it should be for its size, and otherwise indistinguishable from any other on the shelf. It could be a cure or something worse than what he has.

"I don't know the first thing about them." He looks back with a sharp smile, keeping his tone conversational despite the tension surrounding him. He gestures with the bottle, holding it up for him to take. "You seem to though. Can you tell the real from the fake ones they sell to tourists?"

[inferus]

Wrath reaches out to pick it up from Five's hands, feeling its heaviness, seeing how ornately made it is. He pulls it in closer, and there is a hum of magic beneath his touch. Potions are less common where he is from. Magic spells and rituals are used first, but there are a few concoctions they can brew as well. He simply isn't certain how much crossover there is between the two.

"They are all real. The Necromancers are... passionate about their magic. I have no doubt many have side effects or costs of some kind. It appears to be the nature of their more... extreme practices and likely why these potions are illegal."

This is all information he has learned from speaking to the necromancers, from starting to gather disciples here within the district. They want to learn as much as he does.

"As for this one with its ornateness, I imagine it must be making a promise of some kind. Perhaps a creative cure to a disease - a disease, but not a curse." In case Five was wondering.

[somebadnews]

He watches closely as he takes the potion from his hand, mildly curious if he managed to pick out a weapon at random, because he really doesn't know. It's doubtful, but something had to lure Wrath back here. Five bypassed whoever would have tried to stop him at the entrance, so it could be that they're at least more potent than whatever the public can access in the front of the shop. Especially if it's supposedly illegal. — Fortunately magic hasn't humbled him so much that he doesn't think he can easily blink out of any situation that catches him off guard.

When they first met, it seemed like Wrath had a sixth sense about magic, and he was able to draw the truth out of him simply by being right about all of his assumptions. His comments this time are more pointed, made to show that he remembers why Five would be interested, and his smile tightens accordingly. No, his 'problem' hasn't been solved and he's forced to seek other avenues. It's painful how obvious that is. For his part, he can only downplay how much it weighs on him and try to find his leverage.

There's a few beats of measured silence before he responds.

"Well, they are necromancers. They're extreme by nature." Five doesn't ask what kind of cost it would entail, but it stays on his mind. He wound up in this situation by stabbing a cursed body, and there's a part of him that wonders if that's what it will come down to. They can fucking try. "You must be learning a lot if you keep coming back. What did you do to impress them?"

[inferus]

Wrath sets the potion back upon the shelf as he looks down at him, narrowing his gaze, as if trying to get a sense of what Five is attempting to do. It seems their conversation before must have made him paranoid about Wrath, which is only fair. People in his own world are well aware of how wicked demons are - let alone Princes of Hell, which he had all but implied he was when they last spoke.

Much of those stories are exaggerated for effect - to frighten children, frighten young witches especially. He has blood on his hands. He has committed horrible acts, but most of the stories are not entirely true. Some are made up entirely. But he is certain any world that has demons or Hell or the Devil within its vocabulary must have its own stories.

"Call it an exchange of information - much like the one we agreed to when we met, but add magical skill to it this time."

Of course, he has started to begin a following of very young, new Necromancers, wanting to hone their craft.

"They have skills I do not possess, and I have much to offer them in turn."

keeping an eye on emilia di carlo.

[valeas]

Acting is not among the skills Emilia possesses.

Oh, she can sneak around undetected with the best of them when it suits her. In moments of cleverness she's resorted to trickery, most often against Wrath's brothers. She can hide, the way she's been forced to hide most of her life. Contain the parts of herself that were, are, Other. The big and dark and fathomless parts — tells she was not meant for a human world.

But active deception, embodying a role that makes her chafe whenever she must lean into it? Not in her wheelhouse. It's with both nerve and nerves alike that Emilia steps into the latest gala of the season. She's still not used to it, that first moment, that first step — all eyes acutely on her. If there is a moment she considers turning on her heel to run, however, she squashes it. Immediately.

How will she conquer the Seven Circles if she cannot maneuver herself in Taravast?

Practice, she tells herself. This is practice.

Squaring her shoulders and steeling her spine, she descends further into the awaiting court of colors and music. She moves like she is meant to be here. Like she is meant to be anywhere she chooses to be, unbowed. Emilia brings herself to a stop before her first welcomer, and that's when she feels it. A spark of energy scattering across her arm, letting her know he's here, too.

[inferus]

Wrath feels the moment she begins to descend into the court. Even without the tattoo that binds them, he feels like he would know wherever she was in a room at any time the very instant she stepped into it. Their being put on to different teams means they do not see each other as often as before though Wrath watches her room, watches the roof over her room, looks out for her wherever he thinks she might be.

He is helpless to care and to look even when he shouldn't, even when he is still angry at her, even when her choice was not him.

Except as she descends the stairs in the gorgeous dress to enter this party, his gaze is entirely arrested to her, to the sight of her in that dress. He has stopped mid conversation to stare from across the room, aware there is no interacting tonight- not with them squarely on different teams. Still it takes effort to look away even as he feels the awareness of her.

He knows she is aware of him too.

His dark and gold eyes are arrested to her. For at least this moment, he does not look away from her as if there is no one else, and then the person he is speaking to draws his attention back. And Wrath remembers the role he must play, swallowing through the disgust of knowing even if they return home he will have to be in a similar position. Emilia in House Pride, as he sits back and watches.

[valeas]

Emilia's never had these sort of aspirations.

Vittoria had been the one to want a crown, once they were old enough to want for anything. It was Vittoria who'd charmed a room with her effervescence and her vibrancy. Emilia, in turn, burned quietly until quiet was no longer an option.

She asks herself, she does, what Vittoria would do and what she would say. Every step of the way, she wonders and lets it be part of what guides her. In some ways, following Vittoria's footsteps has allowed Emilia to discover her own courage and her own boldness. The understanding there is nothing she will not do to protect what she loves and achieve her ends.

The unwelcome bottom line: if she wants to reach the portal that can return her to her quest, she must first survive Taravast. And so. She mingles. She drinks and she dances. She smiles and she flatters. She tells herself the gooseflesh rising on her skin every now and then isn't her awareness of his proximity. With or with no actual interaction, she feels it, too.

Toward the end of the night, Emilia finds a place to sit in search of reprieve. She won't find it, as she realizes to her growing horror that one of her newfound suitors has every intention of serenading her. Wrath must be so amused at her expense.

[inferus]

It is maddening, having to swallow his frustration and placing on a polite face in the meantime. However, they both must play their roles tonight. They are well aware of it, and she plays her own well from what he sees when he chances a glance here or there, watching her... suitors step over one after the other.

Wrath manages to have one conversation after another, diving into it, putting on the proper face to seem interested and polite. However, he is aware of her helplessly throughout the evening, where she is, the sound of her voice, but he smiles when he should smile, offers commentary when he should, plays his part to a T.

By the end of the night, he has honed his focus in on her once more, despite presenting an air of casualness. Clearly, this particular suitor (of the many) is about to serenade Emilia. Wrath watches, much in the way many others at the party have turned to see except his own gaze is a bit more intense. It would take someone really looking into his eyes to notice.

His expression is one of impassiveness, unreadable as he casually leans against the wall, sipping on his drink.

[valeas]

It's ... sweet.

Harmless-seeming, though Emilia knows better than to trust surface impressions. She was taught a rather cruel lesson the night she stumbled on Vittoria's murderer, and she won't be swayed by a pretty song. But this man's voice is lovely, really, and soon enough those with instruments join in for a proper symphony. Applause and laughter abounds.

A tiny spike of coolness grazes her neck, and it lifts her gaze so that her eyes lock with Wrath's. Not one emotion betrays his thoughts with an expression so inhumanly blank, and it shouldn't surprise her. He's a true gift.

It makes him so effective, doesn't it?

There's a vicious twist to her lips, though it shifts into a smile once her attention returns to her serenader. She takes his offered hand as he brings himself to his feet, and when they walk right past Wrath, she coolly raises her own drink in toast.

[inferus]

Wrath's expression manages to remain neutral enough through it all, through the man's pretty song with beautiful lyrics. He knows better than to think it will have any true effect on Emilia. She has other values, and he always has appreciated exactly what she values and focuses on (what he thought she did before Pride).

He is so schooled in carefully chiseling away his emotions until they are behind a wall of marble, thick and heavy, and his expression reveals nothing. Even as on the inside, his mood sours considerably, especially at the sight of her genuine smile with her hand in the man's.

His shoulders tense and tighten. His jaw locks, and he does not offer up his own glass in toast. It is doubtful anyone would notice, but he is near bristling at this point, and he cannot bring it in himself to pretend as she holds someone else's hand. She will feel this too- the brief bristle of something warm across her tattoo.

Before anyone can pay attention to him instead, he slips out of the party into the hall, seeking fresh air- eventually finding himself in the gardens.