#Michael Langdon X OMC

[themerriweathermage]

Mors Vincit Omnia Pt. 1

In a world where the gods have been reborn into mortal forms, and remade by being turned into vampires, there’s man who believes that he’s the Anti-Christ. Unfortunately for him, he’s sold to the highest bidder, and despite his best efforts, he’s stuck with them. For now.

Series Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith

Forever Tag: @bonjour-rainycity

A/N: Ahh, so it’s been about six or seven months since I’ve written anything for the Twilight fandom and uh, I couldn’t sleep until I got this super angsty series out of my head. Also I don’t know anything about American Horror Story; I got the eleven-minute Youtube rundown of Michael Langdon’s character and his AHS article on the fandom website. That being said, I think it’s a fair point to say that Michael is probably a little OOC.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Mentions of torture, Canon violence (Michael gets turned into a vampire), Blood

The Romanian lords have been plotting their revenge against the Volturi for centuries but nothing can stand against the might of the gifts that they’ve collected and coerced throughout the years. Stefan and Vladimir are nothing against their might; they once had the opportunity with the Cullen’s to bring the Volturi down, but their golden-eyed counterparts wished not for battle, not for the wrath and ruin of those who had hunted them down, not for the fall of a corrupt regime. Now, they have become desperate.

Michael Langdon truly believes he’s the Antichrist and has the powers and prowess to back it up. His exploits aren’t unheard of-- although society as a whole seems to view him as just a charmingly lost soul-- and one has to go through all the right wrong networks to find his true list of crimes. Luckily for two desperate vampire lords, no price was too high and Michael Langdon has become revealed to the world of vampires. By revealed, he means that the witch coven hiding him has quite literally sold him to the highest bidder. He can’t read their minds. He can’t sense their presence. They were two figures shrouded in black who spoke nothing to him and nothing to each other, and for once, for once in his life, Michael felt a sense of unease. He fought for his freedom but they’ve just as soon as bound him in a tongue he doesn’t know, tying his hands behind his back and shackling his feet together. He can feel the power thrumming through the invisible force that binds him.

They would not offer him food nor drink. He walked as they did, slipping in the shadows of forests and cities unknown to him. Michael wasn’t exactly one to be a prisoner, but the harder he fought against the cuffs, the tighter they seemed to bind him, until he’s left dizzy and dazed and doesn’t know his right from his left. And just when it seemed like he was on the brink of passing out, the cuffs loosen and his vision returns. Michael has seen some grandeur in his lifetime, but nothing compared to this castle. It was absolutely immaculate, beautiful and in all its prime for being a castle. Ornate weapons were placed neatly onto the walls, breathtaking marble statues adorning the lobby.

“Good. You’re awake.” One of them slipped his hood down, revealing a man with blindingly white hair and red eyes. “Welcome to Castle Transylvania.”

“Hardly a welcome.” Michael replied, spitting in the man’s face.

“He is feisty; I’ll give him that.” The other one murmured. “Hello, Michael Langdon. You’ve somehow been deluded into believing you’re the Antichrist.”

“I am the Antichrist.”

“Still chasing after that foolish notion.” The dark-haired man purred. “I’m Stefan. This is my coven mate, Vladimir. We think you have something we need.” Michael lunged forward, but the snap of Stefan’s fingers had the cuffs so tight on him again that he was dizzy and dazed, drained of his powers. 

“I wouldn’t, darling.” Vladimir remarked. “Stefan might be the patient one but you don’t want to get on his bad side. You think we won’t torture you, little Antichrist? We’ve been around your kind before.”

“You can try. You may find I don’t break easily!” Michael growled.

“Save your fire for someone you can kill.” Stefan muttered. “You don’t,” He cupped Michael’s cheek in his hand, and Michael tried to bite him for it before Stefan’s fingers pressed back into his jaw like a vice, nails splitting the skin beneath his fingers. Blood stained into his fingertips and began a trail down Michael’s neck. “You don’t,” Stefan purred, getting into Michael’s face, “Want to try me. I’ll break you, Michael Langdon, and believe me, you don’t want that. So save your pretty little spitfire for someone who gives a damn.”

“What do you want from me?” Vladimir chuckled.

“Smart boy. Now you start asking the real questions. We don’t want anything from you; we simply would like to unleash you.”

“A little hard to do with the shackles.”

“Oh, my dear sweet child,” Stefan’s breath whispered into his ear. “We are just getting started.”

#Michael Langdon X OC #Michael Langdon X OMC #twilight #ahs #crossover #Mors Vincit Omnia #cw: blood #cw: violence

[themerriweathermage]

Mors Vincit Omnia Pt. 3

Basil is intrigued by Michael Langdon and decides, in the moment of interest, not to kill him.

Series Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith​ @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth​

Forever Tag: @bonjour-rainycity

A/N: This fic is such a loose interpretation of the headcanons I have that the Volturi Triumvirate are gods that have been reborn and then remade as they were turned into vampires. Obviously, Aro is Apollo. Marcus is Mars. Caius is Janus. But Basil is Mors, the god of death, and anything he touches (bare skinned at least) dies.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (non-graphic), Michael and Basil get really up close and personal really quick (vampires for you)

It’s not hard to find Michael in the mess. Basil worked alone, shrouded in a dark cloak and nearly every part of his body covered, except his face. He silently tracked the paths of destruction, intrigued. These bodies left behind, they aren’t drained of blood; they’ve just been angrily attacked and bled to death, like a wild animal tore through them. By the time Basil has caught up to Michael, he’s sure that the body count was well into the thousands.

Basil settled into a tree, watching Michael kill. He’s found that he doesn’t want to intervene; although whatever Michael was hunting, he clearly wasn’t finding, and the blood was such a waste. But Basil can’t drink from people; he can’t drink from anything living. As soon as his bare skin touches anything living, it dies. He has learned to sustain himself off bottled blood over the years.

“You’re awfully messy.” Basil finally commented. It was true enough. Michael was soaked in blood, but he didn’t seem to mind. His eyes swung around the area before he finally alighted on Basil balanced on a tree branch above him and snarled. “Don’t show your teeth at me.” Basil has an odd lilt to his voice. It was a threat, but he seemed amused, and he made no move at Michael.

“Who are you?” Michael growled.

“My name is Basil. And you, well, you’re a naughty little minx, aren’t you?” Michael growled again, baring his teeth at Basil, not amused by the terms used for him. This one wasn’t like the others. When he taunted the Romanians, they drew out their punishments. Basil, however, pinned Michael’s back to a tree, with his hand on his throat and his knee in between Michael’s legs in half a second.

“I said,” His voice never dropped, “Don’t show your teeth at me.” Michael bared them anyways, expecting to be slapped or even hit. Basil slipped his thumb into Michael’s mouth instead, pressing down beneath his tongue as the newborn vampire yelped in pain, tears springing to his eyes that would not fall.

“If you bite me, it will not be pleasant.” Unlike his former treatment at the hands of vampires, Basil’s voice does not waver. It has stayed monotonous other than his amused lilt in tone. “My coven thinks you cannot be reasoned with, that whoever turned you didn’t teach you the law, and that therefore you must be put to death.” But there was something that flickered in Basil’s eyes and Michael felt like he was drowning in them, darker than his own, almost maroon in color. He removed his thumb from Michael’s mouth and the leather came away wet with venom. His other hand was still on Michael’s throat and his knee still between his legs and he didn't seem interested in letting up the pressure but he was at least giving Michael the chance to plead his case. “So, who are you, newborn?”

“My name is Michael Langdon.”

“Mmm...” Basil’s mouth upturned slightly. “You’re the so-called Anti-Christ.”

“I am the Anti-Christ!” Michael snarled. Basil shook his head, sighing.

“My father is Marcus Agrippa. If you know anything about the military exploits of early Rome and Greece, you’ll know his name. He was turned into a vampire before the so-called Christ was even born, saw the rise of new religion and then saw it die on a crucifix. Of course, it got back up, but guess what? So have all the other gods over the course of millennia-- died, only to be reborn into a new form-- but you don’t see us touting our prowess over the world, and most of the time, our followers aren’t particularly cocks about it either.” Basil remarked. “You’ve been fed a lie your entire life, Michael Langdon. There’s more than one god out there, probably more than one whatever your father is too.” Some sort of realization bled into Michael’s form.

“But I have powers.”

“So did my mother. So does most of my coven. So do I. Welcome to the world of vampires, where gifts make you prized among my people.”

“And yet here you are to kill me.” Michael replied.

“You intrigue me. I said I was sent to kill you; I didn’t say that I would. You possess a certain amount of freedom.”

“I won’t be anyone’s tool!” Michael growled again, spitting in Basil’s face. Not even that got a rise out of Basil, although he did pull his hood back, shaking his long dark hair free of its former confines. He ran his free hand through his hair and wiped off his face.

“You have good instincts. Next time, aim for the eyes.” Michael realized something about that. Next time.

“You intend to let me go.” Michael started. “Why?”

“Because, Langdon, as long as you’re running around free, I’m not under the thumb of my coven. But unlike you, I know how to avoid them. The jig will be up sooner rather than later with them, but you get to wreak carnage and I get a little bit of blessed freedom. Unless, that is, unless you’d rather die here and now?” Basil asked, but he loosened his grip regardless. Hands still pinned Michael into the tree, just now on either side of him, and Basil’s breath was so close that Michael can taste the tartness of the venom on his lips. But Basil won’t come any closer; he only hovered a breath away for a moment, and then Michael slipped beneath his arms, becoming a blur in the forests, and Basil, not one to give up chase, followed in short pursuit.

#Michael Langdon X OC #Michael Langdon X OMC #Mors Vincit Omnia #cw: canon typical violence

[themerriweathermage]

Mors Vincit Omnia Pt. 6

Basil knows his only way to reunite with Michael is in death, and for once, he's unbothered by it.

Series Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith​ @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth​​

Forever Tag: @bonjour-rainycity​

A/N:  Mors vincit omnia - Death Conquers All

Warnings: Suicide, Blood, Canon-typical Violence

Yet Marcus still remained. He doesn’t have the words to explain why he did what he did to Basil.

“You!” Basil panted out in his direction. Michael’s bonds have vanished, in his death; so have Basil’s, but that’s only because Aro got the reaction he was looking for. “You knew how much he meant to me!” Basil screamed it into the silence.

“You’re my son.” Marcus replied.

“But he was my soulmate,” Basil finally sobbed. “You of all people should know what kind of life this damns me to!” Marcus can’t speak around the lump in his throat. The whip he had been so tightly clenching fell to the ground. “I loved him, Father. Even though I could never have him! And now... and now, he’s gone. He’s gone.” Basil wept bitterly, burying his head against Michael’s chest.

“Basil.”

“LEAVE!” Basil screamed. His agony echoed throughout the castle in mournful wails, and no one dared to approach him. Night has fallen before Basil ever moves. His wounds were still raw and they cracked back open to bleed as soon as he moved. But he took the stairs two by two to his room regardless. It has always been pristine; Basil has always been bored enough for it to be pristine. It will do no good in bringing Michael back, but Basil prayed the healing incantation anyways, placing it over Michael instead of himself. He pocketed a small white dagger off of Aro’s belt when he’d lunged to protect Michael, so his wounds don’t matter anymore. Basil wiped away the blood and redressed Michael so that he didn’t have to lay in tattered clothing and eventually even managed to clean himself off. It won’t matter in a few hours anyways but he does it regardless.

Michael’s form was perfectly still, and other than the small scar at the tip of his throat, nothing gave away the trauma that had befallen him. Basil pressed the blade into the palm of his hand, and the first drops of crimson blood fell against the white sheets. His immortality was leaving him, not that he wanted it anymore. He never thought that this fate would be the way to go. He always imagined that he would die nobly, in service to the Volturi, in service to his family. Now what he does, he does out of spite, out of grief. Basil pressed a kiss to Michael’s cheek.

“I will see you again.” Basil whispered. The blade lays clutched in his hands, clutched to his chest and the blood flows quickly, untempered and unhindered from the gaping slits that run from his wrists up to mid-shoulder. The blood loss quickly overtakes him, but Basil has accepted it. Death does not discriminate. In death, he sees Michael and runs to him, reunited.

-

It’s the smell of death that draws guards to Prince Basil’s room. The door is locked, but the vampires break it open only to be greeted with the sight. Demetri nearly doubles over and retches while Felix stands there, petrified. And it isn’t long that word spreads over the castle. The Masters convene at the source, and Marcus... Marcus is horrified. The normally white sheets are stained darkly in a rust brown, and Basil lies there, completely at peace with his head pressed in the hair and his lips pressed against the cheek of his mate, arms slit no doubt by the white dagger in his hands. Marcus buries his hands in his hair and screams-- Didyme is gone, Basil is gone-- he has nothing left. It’s over. He’s twisted the dagger from Basil's hands and buried it so far in Aro’s chest that his hand comes out the other side with the heart speared on it. The Volturi is finished.

It may not have been the Romanian’s original intent but regardless their plan is accomplished. The Volturi is in ruins. Marcus tears it apart. He mounts Aro’s head on a pike in the middle of the throne room, brings in all those loyal to his coven mate, and slaughters them on broadcast to every vampire network. In the end, only Cauis and his mate are left standing in a room slicked with blood. Marcus has taken the lives of his own two most loyal guards and then killed himself. There is no coven left to speak of. Caius can only shake his head; the destruction is phenomenal. “There is nothing left here, only death.” And the scene fades to black, but one last message remains and it flickers across the screen of every single person watching-- mors vincit omnia.

#Michael Langdon X OC #Michael Langdon X OMC #Mors Vincit Omnia #cw: suicide #cw: blood #cw: canon typical violence

[themerriweathermage]

Mors Vincit Omnia Pt. 5

Basil stands on trial for his crimes and expects to be punished for it, but his lack of a reaction to his punishment inspires Aro to turn elsewhere.

Series Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith​ @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth​

Forever Tag: @bonjour-rainycity

A/N:  The ivory blade has a name-- Sanguis. It was forged by Marcus and possesses the power to turn vampires back to mortals. It's part of a trio set-- Sanguis, the blood blade, Mortem, the death blade, and Solani, the poison blade.

Warnings: Torture, Major Character Death

Michael wished that weren’t true. He wished they hadn’t been found. He wished that for all of Basil’s evasion techniques, that one of them had worked. But now, they were standing before the great Triumvirate and all Basil could do was look ahead stonily. His crimes were read from a scroll of rolled paper that was there for show more than anything else.

“Is there anything you have to say for yourself?” Aro asked, smirking. Basil was bound, hands tied behind his back, but he did not dignify Aro with seeing how much it affected him.

“Isn’t it considered the highest of offenses to threaten a royal’s mate?” Basil asked.

“You are no Royal. That title is just for show. Just because you are borne of Marcus does not give you the rank of Master within this coven. You are a Captain and a disobedient one at that.”

“I did only what was necessary to protect my mate.” Basil answered. “Your mistake was sending more after me. You wear their deaths on your hands, but really, I guess you should be used to it. You murdered my mother, after all.” The entire throne room went deathly quiet. Aro was livid.

“What did you just say to me?”

“You murdered my mother.”

“Didyme was my blood!” Aro snapped. “My sister. How dare you accuse me...”

“I invoked my deity. I know the truth. It’s one of the reasons I stayed away.” So, that was the reason for the ritual killing, Michael reasoned.

“You impertinent little...” Aro growled, his very gloved hand on Basil’s throat. Michael snarled and rattled his bindings with this action. “Oh. Oh. ” A delightfully wicked smile edged to Aro’s lips. “Your little newborn pet doesn’t like me touching you. Oh, this makes things so much more interesting. I wonder how he’ll react to your punishment.” Aro gestured to Marcus and the cat o’nine tails laying across the arm of his throne. “Marcus, you can do the honors.” Marcus frowned. His head was reeling with the information that had just been revealed, but other than that, he had been spending his time examining the bond between Michael and Basil, shocked to find that every word Basil said was true. He’d only been protecting his mate. Within the Royal Coven, Basil ought to have had some protection.

“I won’t.” Marcus finally replied. “I won’t do what you’re asking of me. He’s my son.”

“And a traitor, Marcus. He killed six guards.” Aro replied.

“He was protecting his mate.”

“His mate killed an upwards of two thousand people over a month’s time, and Basil let it happen. Basil was sent to stop him, and Basil encouraged him. You know the law; you wrote the law.” Aro pushed the whip into his hands. “Now execute the law.”

So Marcus reluctantly stood as Basil was brought to the center of the room. Basil didn’t even look at him, just stared straight on ahead, right through Aro. “No.” Aro paused the first strike before it descended. “Perhaps you’re right.” Aro changing his mind was never a good thing. “Perhaps I should show some leniency to the members of our coven.” He withdrew a white dagger and pressed it to Michael’s throat. Blood beaded at the tip, sluicing down the front of Michael’s throat. “This one will be trouble if we don’t deal with him first.”

“No!” Basil all but yelled it, lunging for Aro but he was brought down with a sickening crack. His head cracked against the stone flooring with enough force to daze him and Marcus was shaken. Basil was a hybrid; blood began to pool beneath him, and his vision was swimming by the time he could lift his head to see Marcus draw back the whip. Marcus was now faced with a brutal choice; kill his son’s mate or kill his son. He begged for forgiveness and the strike landed true, cleaving flesh from bone from Michael’s back.

The scream that echoed was reminiscent of an animal being tortured. It was born of Michael, but it was also born of Basil, who couldn't even stand to protect him. The second strike came, and then the third, and then the fourth, but the fifth didn't land, because Basil had thrown himself into the path of the whip and let it ruin his flesh. He landed on his hands and knees, half blinded from the blood streaming down his face. He does not have the ability to free Michael from his bonds, but he can hold him, and he cradles his amber-haired mate, his dying mate in his arms.

“Michael. Michael!” Basil pleaded with him to open his eyes and for a moment, they fluttered open. “Don’t you dare give up!” There is far too much blood on his hands, on his gloves, and his fingers only smear it across Michael’s jaw.

“I’m not... I’m surrendering.” Michael whispered. He leaned up, lips claiming Basil’s own, and for a moment, everything was right. But Basil was the god of death, and Michael has walked into it willingly. His head lolled back in Basil’s arms and Basil was broken, gasping out his name in abstract horror.

“Michael? Michael. Michael!” He was screaming by then, shaking his mate and pleading that he would wake, but knowing in his heart that would never again be the case.

“I’d say my work here is done.” Aro purred softly. Never again would Basil step out of line with the Volturi’s directive. He left the throne room, as did most of the others.

#Michael Langdon X OC #Michael Langdon X OMC #Mors Vincit Omnia #cw: torture #cw: major character death

[themerriweathermage]

Mors Vincit Omnia Pt. 4

The tension between Michael and Basil grows. But they're running out of time, because the Volturi's Elite Guard have tracked them down. Basil kills two of his coven mates before he'll let them take Michael and sends the other two back with a message for his coven heads.

Series Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith​ @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth​

Forever Tag: @bonjour-rainycity

A/N:  I’ve taken another bit of Italian from Google Translate Il mio armore - My love Il mio Principe - My Prince

Warnings: Definitely OOC Michael, Basil begins to kill his coven mates

“Why won’t you stop me?” Michael finally asked the question. Basil has been chasing him for the last few weeks but he doesn’t seem interested in actually stopping Michael from utterly destroying the people around him.

“Your destruction is unhinged and I find it very beautiful.” Basil murmured. He was currently basking in a spot of sunlight, his dark clothes soaking up the warmth of the sunlight. His head was thrown back, light glimmering off the exposed skin, making him look rather ethereal.

“So... you don’t indulge in the blood? Do you eat something else?”

“Some vampires can. I’m simply older; I don’t require the same diet schedule that you newborns do. The rules of the ancients are a little bit looser; I can go up to two months without eating and still maintain my strength.”

“So blood doesn’t tempt you.” Basil opened his eyes.

“I didn’t say that. I know how to control my thirst though.”

“What’s it like living in a coven?”

“Boring.” Basil closed his eyes again, though he could feel Michael creeping closer; the scent of blood shifted closer on the wind. “Don’t do it, Michael.” He warned.

“I can’t help that you’ve tempted me.” Michael grumbled.

“I know what you want; the answer is no.” Because I want it too. Basil doesn’t voice the rest of the thought. He opened his eyes again when something warm and wet splattered against his face. There was blood dripping from Michael’s fingers; he’s certainly made a mess of his current meal and Basil sets his jaw because as of the moment, entirely nothing is more arousing than the sight of the lovely amber haired vampire absolutely drenched in blood. “You’re in my light.” Michael was standing over him, blood dripping from his chin, from in between his teeth, and Basil knew that it was intentional, unmistakably intentional. But he ignored the lust, quashing it down.

“Is that all you have to say to me? That I’m in your light?”

“What you want, Michael, I can’t give to you.” Basil replied. “Trust me, il mio amore , you don’t want it.”

“He doesn’t want what?” Jane’s voice chirped through the air. “He doesn’t want what, Basil?”

“Careful, Jane.” Alec’s voice sounded beside her. “Il mio Principe.” A gloved hand seized Michael and pushed him behind Basil’s form, now standing, towering tall.

“He doesn’t want what, Basil?” She asked again.

“I don’t particularly find that any of your business.” Basil replied. “Don’t you get tired of being Aro’s lapdogs?”

“It’s Lord Aro to you.”

“I outrank him.” Basil bared his teeth, fangs coming to light. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Yes, I hear not eating will do that to you.” Jane’s voice grated on Basil. “But I don’t think that’s why. You see, I think you were about to get a little frisky with your target.”

“I could only wish.” Basil whispered.

“So you admit it. Have you been fraternizing this whole time? Lord Aro will not be pleased. You’ve been careless, Basil, and your target even more so.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what Aro thinks. You’d better leave, Jane; you’d better leave now.” Basil warned.

“You wouldn’t dare... Captain.” Jane spat at his feet. “Traitor, more like it.” She stepped forward and Basil tensed, and that was enough to send Michael hurtling past him, teeth bared and nails outstretched. Michael sank to the ground, his screams of agony echoing in the forest and time slowed for half a moment before Jane was shred into pieces across the forest floor and Alec was slumped over. Michael watched the light die from Alec’s eyes and realized then that Basil’s hands were ungloved, and that he spurred through the pain and killed the two vampires that were there to confront them.

“Don’t you get it now? That even the slightest touch could kill you?” Basil asked. His back was still turned to Michael. His head bowed to his chest for a moment. “They will send more.” His eyes locked with the stunned faces of Felix and Demetri beyond the cover of the forest. “They will be met with death. I suggest you choose your alliances wisely, gentlemen.”

“Do you think your Father will let you get away with this?”

“You may bear the message back to my coven that those who come for me, that those who come for Michael, will be met with death.” Basil replied.

“Apollo will come for you.” Demetri murmured.

“Let the Plague-bringer strike. He may not like the results he reaps.” They both backed away, vanishing in the shadows, and Basil picked up his gloves, sliding the leather back on. Michael was still on the ground, stunned, and Basil cupped his cheek gently, fingers stroking down his jaw.

“You’re the God of Death.” Michael finally managed his voice.

“Or so I’m called.” Basil replied flatly. “They won’t lay hands on you. I’ll make sure of it.” He whispered quietly. “I’ll protect you.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think, Michael? I was envious of you, at first. You had all this freedom; for all that I was a Prince, I was stuck in a castle. You’re unhinged and volatile, and the path of destruction you’ve carved is beautiful, and if only I could have such a freedom. I had hoped that by being near you, I could live vicariously through you, but instead... it seems you’ve claimed yet another heart from your victims.” Michael sat quietly with this information.

“Come. They’ll be looking for us.”

#Michael Langdon X OC #Michael Langdon X OMC #Mors Vincit Omnia

[themerriweathermage]

Mors Vincit Omnia Pt. 2

The Volturi have received news of the terror and the havoc that Michael is wreaking on Romania. They have no choice but to retaliate.

Series Tag: @the-reformed-ringwraith​ @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth​

Forever Tag: @bonjour-rainycity

A/N:  It's Basil (bah-suhl) not Basil (bay-sill). Also, I used google translate for Carissima Zia; it's supposed to mean dearest aunt.

Warnings: None

Seven days later, the Transylvanian castle was razed to the ground, vampire lords and all, burning inside of it. Michael has barred every exit-- every window and door is blocked and he let the priceless artifacts inside burn for good measure too. His throat burned but clawing at it did little good. Instead, he took the thirst and slaughtered the town with it, gorged to excess. Instead of releasing Michael onto the Volturi with their revenge, the Romanian lords have accidentally unleashed something much, much more terrible.

The gods can only be born into forms. Mithras, the god of soldiers, looked down on the Earth he’s just ascended from, and frowned. Vladimir had always touted that he was the god of death, but perhaps in all those years, Mithras has never seen it put into action. The vampire part was always good enough for Vladimir to carry out his destruction. He searched Olympia but the temple lay empty. Mors was out there, somewhere, in the vast expanse of Earth.

-

Basil sat in his father’s empty throne. He was mostly alone with the exception of the guard presenting the report. The Romanians were no allies of the Volturi, and Demetri’s report wasn’t unexpected; like all regimes, the Romanian one had risen to power and stood as the ruling body for years upon years. But new laws were written and the failure to comply led the Volturi to victory over their numbers, establishing them as the ruling body, the victors.

“Is there more?” Basil’s voice was always measured. Demetri supposed that the vampire hybrid took after his father in a manner. He merely handed over the tablet where news anchors were at the scene of the Transylvanian castle fire and flipped through the channels. All over Romania, there were incident reports of people being slaughtered left and right. Whoever it was clearly had no care of the law, that is, if they were a vampire. “Confirmed deaths of the Romanian lords?”

“Afton confirmed, yes.”

“What’s the body count on this... creature?” Basil asked. “Vampire?”

“We’re not entirely sure. On both counts, but the death toll is rising rapidly.”

“And you felt it necessary to present it not to the Masters, why?” Basil asked, handing Demetri back the tablet.

“My Prince? You command the guard.”

“This is not a matter for me.” Basil replied. “Take it to the Masters, Demetri.” The guard was stunned, but left Basil to his musing. What a freedom this creature had. He crossed his legs languidly. He was Captain of the Guard, yes, but that didn’t allow him the same freedom he once wished it did. Like so many others, Basil was tied to the Volturi by complacency, but then again, if Aro Volturi lost the god of death, then he would lose one of his key pieces in life’s metaphorical game of chess. Basil couldn’t really complain, at this point, when he was fed three meals a week and was entertained by the endless bickering of his coven mates. The only thing that made him feel anymore was the sight of his father. Basil didn’t sit in his place in the Triumvirate, only choosing the throne when he was alone. It reminded him of his mother somehow, as if he could still sense her presence whenever he sat there.

“Reminiscing?” The voice was feminine. Sulpicia-- his father Marcus’ former coven mate and his dearest uncle’s wife-- leaned in the doorway of the throne room. “Aro wants to see you.”

“Let me guess.” Basil didn’t immediately move. “I’m being dispatched.”

“Doubtful in the way you want it to be; I swear you turn into Marcus everytime more I see you.” Sulpicia replied.

“Death would be a sweet escape to the utter monotony of this coven.” Basil replied.

“Ouch.” Sulpicia muttered.

“Don’t pretend it hurts, carissima zia.” Basil murmured. “When’s the last time Aro let you out of that tower, hm?” He stood, brushing by her on the way down the hallway. No doubt they were convened in the old war council room, and his suspicions proved correct.

“You’re late.” Aro remarked.

“Forgive me for bidding my hellos to your wife.” Basil strolled into the room casually.

“I expect to be obeyed.”

“I’m not your lapdog, Apollo .”

“No, but you are half-mortal so perhaps try minding your tongue.”

“Or what? You’ll cut it out?” Basil asked.

“Don’t tempt me.” Aro hissed between his teeth.

“Aro!” Marcus’ voice cut the room sharply, and then a softer tone followed after. “Basil.”

“Father.” Basil returned the half-greeting half-warning with a greeting of his own in a measured tone, slipping back into his duties as Captain of the Guard.

“Demetri tells us that he briefed you and you directed him to us.” Caius murmured, giving Basil a curt nod. “A smart maneuver on your part, but the end result is unfortunately still the same. A situation like this needs to be handled delicately with only one directive in mind.”

“You want me to go out and kill this creature.” Basil chuckled softly. “So I was right. You’ve summoned me to go out and dispatch it.”

“I highly doubt it can be reasoned with.” Caius replied. “Demetri is monitoring the situation here, but take Jane and Alec with you if you think you’ll be outmatched. We’re fairly confident that it’s some thirst crazed newborn who doesn’t know what the law is or wasn’t taught it, but if you think that will be too much for you...”

“I can handle it.” Basil’s voice was clipped. “Without the guard. They will only get in my way, and unlike Aro, I’m not afraid to get my hands a little dirty.” The onyx-haired vampire bared his teeth at the insult.

“You have orders! Get out!” Aro snapped. Basil hmed, staying just long enough to irritate the hell out of Aro before turning on his heel and marching out.

#Michael Langdon X OC #Michael Langdon X OMC #Mors Vincit Omnia